Yuri rolled his shoulders and groaned. He was getting better at fighting, yeah; he was also sadly getting used to being black and blue. Flynn was a pretty good student; teacher, not so much. His 'lessons' consisted of speaking about precisely how it was he was beating Yuri's ass- while demonstrating at the same time. Learning 'swordwork' was just as much fun, and usually naturally led to the unarmed kind.
It started off well enough: Flynn would pick up a stick and get into position, Yuri would do his best to copy him... and that's about where it started going downhill. Yuri couldn't quite get the forms and motions when Flynn went through them, which meant he unerringly got the greater portion of the bruises while he tried to block and parry, but through emerging skill or sheer dumb luck, he managed to get his own fair share of painful hits in on the blonde. 'Training' only lasted as long as their tempers did before they tossed aside the sticks and settled things the good old-fashioned way.
His wounds weren't at all salved by the fact that he hadn't beat Flynn to date. It would have been enough to just give up on it if he hadn't actually felt himself improving. Every time they went at it, it was just a little bit easier than the time before, his stance a little more natural, his stamina a little greater. He'd discovered -much like he'd been trying to teach Flynn for months- that he didn't have to perfectly imitate Flynn. Flynn's style worked well for him, but it was all wrong for Yuri, and Yuri had given up on trying to copy it because he wasn't Flynn. He was more slender, and he didn't have the physique to go toe-to-toe against the blonde and come out on top; it just wasn't possible for him.
So slowly, but surely, he had been developing his own style. He moved around a lot more than Flynn, looking for weak points while Flynn's method was to wait out his opponent as they wasted themselves against the bastion of his strength. Flynn was straight forward and powerful, so Yuri countered with agility and stealth. The closest he had come to a victory was when he'd twirled his 'sword' over his shoulder while he ducked beneath a swing of Flynn's that would undoubtedly have put him down hard if it'd hit, and Flynn was so busy focusing on where the weapon had been he'd forgotten to keep track of where Yuri himself was. He'd still lost, but the margin by which he was losing was getting narrower every time they went at it.
Which, while satisfying, really didn't do much for his screaming muscles. Yuri whined pathetically as he laid down on the bed, really not caring if he took up more than his share because dammit, this was all Flynn's fault anyway. His shoulders throbbed more than anything, and he couldn't even feel his arms. The constant vibration and strain of blocking Flynn's hits- and while he certainly wasn't pulling any punches either, Flynn hit harder- took a savage toll, not helped by his own style which had him constantly rolling the sturdy stick across his shoulders and upper back for his own moves.
If Flynn wanted his half of the bed, he was just going to have to roll Yuri over his own damn self- for that matter, he'd have to boot the kitten to the foot of the bed if he wanted his pillow, too. Lord help him if he actually wanted under the blanket. Instead of wrestling him out of the way like Yuri half expected, Flynn-
He raised his head the two inches he could, trying to see over his back, "Are you sitting on me?" Oh, good, he still had the energy to feel indignation.
"Just... trust me for a bit. Take off your shirt."
"Flynn, if I had the energy to get undressed, do you think I'd still have my clothes on?"
Blue eyes rolled and the blonde helped him peel off his top- wrestled off his shoes and socks for him, too; bless him. Yuri's head flopped right back on the pillow as his arms fell limp beside him again, "...Ow..."
Yuri really couldn't work up the energy to care about why Flynn wanted to sit on him, more power to him if he thought he could get sleep like that because Yuri sure as hell wasn't- "Oh my god, what are you doing?" He moaned in bliss.
"My mom used to do this for me when my teacher worked me too hard and my muscles locked up."
"Bless her soul. Oh, god~" Yuri felt too good to care how that sounded and too tired to hold in his shameless moan as Flynn's fingers hit a knot that had been bothering him for forever. "If you stop I'll- I'll... well, I haven't figured out what yet, but you'll regret it. Oh! I'll make you cook for yourself."
Flynn's laughter shook his whole body pleasantly as he worked his way up from the small of his back, "I'll remember that." and take the threat seriously, because if ever there were a cruel and unusual punishment, it would be Flynn's attempts (and many, many failures) at cooking. He didn't think Yuri was that cruel, but better safe than sorry. Flynn worked at a particularly bad knot, "How could you even move with everything this knotted up?"
"I can't feel anything but pain lately; what's a little more?"
Flynn's hands stilled for a moment, "Have I really been hurting you, Yuri?"
He cracked open an onyx eye and looked back to catch Flynn's guilty expression, "I'll survive. I always do." That had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say.
Flynn looked devastated, "I'm so sorry. I'l-"
"If you even think of going easier on me I'm rolling over and tossing you to the floor."
Sky blue eyes blinked at him, "...What?"
"You're training me, Flynn, and that training might save my life one day. Don't you dare pull your punches, nobody else ever will; and if I can take what you dish out, I'm not worried about what anyone else can do. It hurts, yes, but hurt is infinitely better than dead."
Flynn flinched at the last word. He set back to massaging out Yuri's kinks, "I don't ever want to hurt you, Yuri."
The dark haired boy sighed, "Flynn... Pain is a part of life." he let out a small yelp as Flynn hit a particularly sensitive spot and the blonde frowned, using his knuckles to work out the knot until the muscle relaxed and Yuri sagged in relief, "But there are times when it's healing, too; that saves from greater pain." And Flynn was subjected to one of those special looks Yuri had that was somewhere between a soft smile and a self-satisfied smirk.
Flynn was about to open his mouth to argue when the reality hit him upside the head. Here he was painfully digging into Yuri's back to rid him of the stiff muscles that would hurt him more down the line if left untreated. He thought about it more as he continued his task. Yuri always did that; took something that was bothering Flynn, even something small, and turned it into this huge life lesson that he'd carry with him as long as he lived. How was it possible for him to be so wise and knowledgeable? Flynn knew he was older, but the years Yuri had spent on the streets before they'd met sometimes made him feel like Yuri had already lived an entire lifetime without him, forced to learn those things on his own. And nothing hurt Flynn more than that thought, that Yuri had already gone through so much he shouldn't have had to.
He sighed and tried not to let it worry him, "Where do you-" he stopped, blinked, then smiled and shook his head. Yuri's whole body was limp in sleep, his face relaxed against the pillow under his cheek. Flynn brushed the other boy's hair away from his face, "How do you do it all, Yuri...?"
