Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Crash dropped him off at home the next morning, too early for either of them, despite the fact that it was less than two hours till noon. He yawned hugely as he opened the door, and wondered if it was worth the trouble to cook something for breakfast or if he should just crawl back into bed. As if to give him an answer, Repede padded in from down the hall, sat down, fixed him with his one good eye, and barked once. Yuri mock-winced at the greeting, familiar enough after years of living together to know when the dog was not happy with him.

"I asked Flynn to feed you. It isn't my fault if you let him forget."

"He was fed just fine," Flynn called from the dining room.

Yuri watched with growing incredulity as Repede got up and went to him, tail wagging. Flynn was seated at the table, already dressed in slacks and a pale blue dress shirt at ten thirty in the morning. He didn't look up from his book, though he reached to scratch behind Repede's ears as the dog sat down beside him, tail wagging. The unexpected solidarity between them as Yuri was simultaneously ignored and stared down was jarring. It felt like he'd just walked into an intervention or something.

Going back to bed was definitely looking like the better option, but he'd never been much for retreating. Besides, he wouldn't ever find out what the strange atmosphere in the house was all about if he avoided it. Better to have everything out in the open. He slung a chair around and sat down backwards, grinning across the table straight at the crown of Flynn's head. He could see the part of his hair, a little point all that blond radiated out from, and he reached across the table to poke it. Flynn swatted his hand away with considerably more force than was necessary and finally looked up, glaring.

"What?"

"Jeeze. Touch-y." He resisted the urge to rub his wrist. It had hit the table pretty hard when Flynn smacked him, and set the cut from Zagi to throbbing. "Who pissed in your cornflakes?"

"Well, what did you expect after you ditched me yesterday?"

"I didn't ditch you, you were hanging with Estelle."

"Because you suggested it after getting us kicked out of ZaFest."

"I didn't get us kicked out—Zagi did. And what do you care if I took off? You get along better with Estelle, anyway."

"That's not the point!"

"So, what's the problem, then?"

"I thought yesterday was supposed to be you teaching me about the music you say you care so much about. My mistake for believing you actually gave a damn."

Yuri stood up, stepped around his chair, and planted one hand on the table and the other on his hip as he leaned in, staring down at Flynn. All the fun had just been drained out of the argument. There were some things Flynn should've learned not to test him on. His devotion to his music was one of them. He'd have thought that night outside Keiv Rock would have shown him as much.

"Sorry your feelings got hurt because our date didn't go the way you'd planned." He saw Flynn flinch at that, was even close enough to see his jaw tighten around whatever response had first risen to the forefront of his mind. Smirking, he straightened up and cracked his knuckles, looking down his nose at the source of most of his irritation over the past three months. "If you want to step outside, I will be more than happy to help you work out some of that frustration."

When Flynn slammed his book closed and stood up, it looked like he was going to get his fight. He was a little tired still after last night, a little sore, but he stretched out a bit, swinging his arms in anticipation and no small amount of annoyance. He'd thought they'd gotten past this. He'd let himself believe Flynn wanted to be friends. Should've known that was a bit too good to be true. It surprised him, then, when Flynn simply picked up his book and stepped past, heading for his room rather than the door.

"You don't get it."

Yuri watched him go, surprised. The slamming of the door jolted him back to normal.

"What don't I get?" He looked to Repede, but the dog had no answers for him, either.

Nearly ready to write the day off and go to bed, a phrase played on base guitar sounded from his phone, alerting him to a text from Judy. He actually fumbled the phone in his haste to pull it out of his pocket and see what was going on. If Judy was headed back to town, there was a chance that she'd make it in time for Dragon Swarm to perform that evening.

|Knock knock. ^-^|

"Fuck, yes!"

He made a dash for the front door, throwing it open to see Judy there with Karol. She walked in past him as Yuri and Karol high-fived in greeting.

"Did you boys miss me?"

"Only if you missed us while you were gone." He was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. "So, the show must go on."

"You didn't think I would let you down, did you? After we've all worked so hard?" She glanced back at Karol who was busily pulling covers off the practice drum kit that took up a corner of Yuri's living room.

"Me? Doubt you? Wouldn't happen. Go ahead and get set up. I'll grab Old Scratch and we can make sure we're ready to own this weekend!"

They played for over two hours, going over the songs they'd talked about for their set that evening, and just enjoying the feeling of making something unique together. He let the music revitalize him and drive away the tiredness his morning had started with. He growled out his frustrations and breathed in the energy of the chords and the strength of the beats. He put his all into the jam session and came out purer because of it, without the irritation from his short talk with Flynn or the drag from a late night. He was ready to go, ready to get back to ZaFest and play for a crowd. He wanted to show everyone what Dragon Swarm could do.

They decided to break for lunch, and he and Judy set aside their guitars to put something together while Karol hung back, more than happy to drum up a storm until the food was ready. They were going through the cabinets when Flynn came out of hiding. He passed Yuri without a glance and stopped in front of Judy.

"I want to apologize for what I said outside Keiv Rock. I had no right to take out my own frustrations on you."

Judy looked from him to Yuri, not even trying to hide her amusement. "So, he does adorable, now?"

Stifling a laugh, Yuri began pulling things out of the pantry. "Sure. I've even seen him manage happy. We're doing nachos for lunch. Black olive and jalapeno good for everyone?"

He got out a block of cheddar and one of mozzarella and passed them off to Judy for her to grate while he chopped up the olives. The sound of his knife measured out a quick, steady counterpoint to Karol's energetic drumming. Behind him, he could almost feel Flynn hovering in the kitchen, waiting for forgiveness or acknowledgement, maybe. He glanced back and smiled, still buoyed by the energy from practice and no longer bothered by what had passed between them earlier.

"You having nachos?"

"Sure."

"Cool. Grab a pan and the chips." Remembering the one time he'd tried the results of Flynn's cooking, he added: "Corn chips, not potato."

"I know how to make nachos."

Yuri laughed. "Can't be too careful."

"Oh, Yuri, by the way." Judy stole an olive out of the can and popped it into her mouth. "I passed Crash on my way into the neighborhood. Is he still enjoying your piercing?"

He stuck out his tongue and waggled it at her. "A gentleman doesn't tongue and tell."

"Did you mention that we'd be playing tonight?"

"I told him we had a slot, but that I didn't know when you'd be back. I'll text him during lunch. Flynn, you coming?"

"Have you forgotten that the police were ready to escort us out? I doubt they'll be happy to see us back. Besides, I'm a little afraid to find out how you could top yesterday's fiasco."

"And we're back to default mode," Yuri muttered. Louder, he said: "You can't really call that a fiasco. It was just one unfortunate encounter with an ex-roommate."

Smiling, Judy stole another olive. "Zagi and the cops got involved? I did miss a lot, didn't I?"

"Maybe next year, you won't take a vacation around the first week of summer. Anyway, it's fine now. I texted The Don this morning to let him know we can play. He said he'd heard about what happened and he's smoothed things over with the cops. We're good to go."

"I think I'll sit today out," Flynn said.

"Whatever."

Yuri sliced furiously through the last of the olives. He'd finally gotten Flynn to start opening up to metal, but because Zagi had to go and spread his crazy all over the place, Flynn wasn't going to come hear Dragon Swarm the way they ought to be heard. It was frustrating as hell, but it looked like he was just going to have to give up on having a housemate who got it. He wondered how long he could take living in the middle of the cold war that had mostly replaced their open hostilities, and if he'd have to deal with Repede siding against him again. Maybe Flynn would just move out. Asshole.

"I don't think they need to be diced so fine."

Judy was leaning in to peer at the olives that were fast being reduced to their component molecules beneath his knife. He took a breath and got to work topping the chips Flynn had spread over the bottom of the pan with grated cheese, diced olives, and sliced jalapenos. His bad mood had returned, an all too common occurrence when Flynn got involved, but he hoped a little food would get him back in better spirits.

It shouldn't even be bothering him all that much. He'd known since day one that Flynn wasn't into metal, and he'd never had a problem with people like that before. He knew metal wasn't for everyone. That was part of the point. It kept the community small, kept it innovative and like-minded at the same time, as strange as that seemed. He'd always been perfectly happy before that people didn't get into it halfheartedly. It had never been an issue when someone he knew didn't care for, or even outright disliked his music. With Flynn though, it had gotten personal, somehow. He was…disappointed. It really fucking sucked.

He texted back and forth with Crash while the nachos were baking, glad to know he at least would be coming to the show. While he hung around the kitchen with Judy to chat until the timer went off. Flynn made himself scarce again. Yuri was coming to expect that when he was in one of his moods. It was probably better than if the two of them got into it in front of Karol. Joy and Rupert were pretty tolerant as far as parents went, but Yuri didn't want to start testing their limits, not when Karol would be the one caught in the middle.

In less than fifteen minutes, he was pulling a pan of cheesy, pepper-laden nachos out of the oven while Judy called Karol in and passed around sodas. With lunch on the table and his band mates digging in, Yuri was left the unenviable task of fetching Flynn. Sighing, he went and knocked on his door.

"Lunch is served. Better hurry if you want some. Karol's really pigging out."

"I am not!"

The door swung open to reveal that Flynn had changed into jeans and a black polo. Although blues suited him, Yuri could really get used to seeing him in black. If he was going to be a moody bastard while they shared a house, he might as well at least be eye candy. He stalked past Yuri without a word, though his demeanor changed suddenly around Judy and Karol, lightening up as he took a seat and helped himself to some nachos. At a loss, Yuri stood just inside the dining room for a minute, watching. Repede came and sat next to him, apparently having forgiven him for the sin of having failed to get away from Zagi before a fight broke out. Flynn was being such a baby over the whole thing. He hadn't been all that upset when it had happened, so why should it be a problem now? Unless he was mad about something else, but Yuri hadn't done anything after that.

The nachos were fast disappearing. He took a seat, setting aside his confusion. He could figure out what the hell Flynn's problem was later when Karol and Judy weren't around.

"We're taking your car down, right, Judy?"

"Yes. Karol's kit is already packed. Unfortunately, I still have some luggage in the trunk, so if you want to ride along, we're going to have to take that out and rearrange a bit."

"If you can squeeze the guitars in, I'll drive myself down."

"You can ride with me."

He whipped his head around to stare at Flynn, thinking he must have heard wrong. "What?"

Flynn swallowed and wiped his hands on his napkin, then met Yuri's eyes. "We can ride down together. I changed my mind about going. I want to see your band perform."

…Obviously, he was never going to make sense. Yuri shrugged.

"Sure. After we eat, I'll get changed and we can go."

There wasn't any feeling in the world quite like the anticipation of walking out across a stage. They were all different—the height and depth, the way they cradled sounds and focused them, the hollowness of his tread over the empty space beneath—but the feeling he got from the few steps to center stage, the knowledge that he was on display, that his band was with him and their hard work and talent were about to be presented to a crowd for appreciation and judgment, that was the same every time. He went slowly, savoring it. Behind him, Karol and Judy were ready to go, eager smiles stretched across their faces, and Yuri grinned back at them. He looked out past the stage lights at the crowd, at the amphitheater alive with movement and crowned with torches that flared up against the darkening sky. Dragon Swarm might have been the last act scheduled to perform, but they were damn sure going to be a good one. Metal's first year at ZaFest was going to end on a high note, metaphorically speaking. Yuri pumped his fist up into the air, saluting the crowd with the horns as he roared into the mic. The sound of his voice grew, rough and deep, before petering out into laughter. He felt good. The energy of the crowd felt good.

"You guys think Zaphias knows we're here?" he shouted. The metalheads answered back as one with a roar of affirmation and assertion. Maybe they weren't always recognized by the mainstream, but this was their city, too. "Let's give 'em one more reminder!"

Karol let it rip on his drums, taking them into the first song of their set. Judy entered into the rhythm on her base, adding layers to the sound, and complexity. The two of them built it up, heavy and fast, playing off each other, complimenting riffs and beats, the sound rolling back and forth like ocean waves, in and out and still growing, something big and looming and ready to change. The melody shifted and Yuri was right there with it on his guitar, part of the song that burst forth from the undercurrent to rise up and be presented on the thrumming, low key tide of notes. He growled into the mic, and let the sound pour forth.

He sang, his voice already gaining some texture from the little bit of growling he'd let tear through his throat. Judy provided backup in a rising and falling scale, her clear voice like a star above the sea as he fell back once more with a growl. Drums and bass guitar took over again, the melody shifting once more, tugging at the audience, notes from Old Scratch plucking at Judy's voice, trying and failing to drag it down. Karol's drumming crashed in between them, and those crystalline notes disappeared, gone into hiding. Yuri and Judy played now to accent that furious beat, and it was like a storm over the sea, like crashing waves and cliffs like primordial guardians, and when it calmed, Yuri sang again of things that endured, of might and struggles and the inexorable pull of what could not be denied. Judy's voice came in low as he sang, skimming along the top of Karol's steady drumming, then leaping to heights he could not reach as his own voice sank into growls. The drums rose in crescendo, their intensity chasing her higher as Yuri shouted the final verses into the mix, guitar straining to be heard over the roar until all sound save Judy's final, ringing note was silenced, and then even that faded into the coming evening.

Catching sight of Flynn staring wide-eyed from just beyond the mosh pit, Yuri's grin was specially for him as he shouted his elation into the mic. That, he thought, is how metal is supposed to be heard.

For the second song, Karol set the beat once more, his playing so fast and the tone of it so low that it was like a rolling peal of thunder. When Judy joined in on bass, adding depth and richness, it became the rumble of the earth itself. Tremors in the form of quick riffs plucked from Old Scratch ran through the beat, but it held strong and steady for the time being, and Yuri drew breath to add vocals.

He kept his voice rough, trading melody for something raw and guttural. Lines were punctuated with barely intelligible growls accompanied by a faltering of the rumble from Karol and Judy, and followed by small eruptions from his electric guitar. There was a flow in those notes, but it remained largely buried…until Judy's playing shifted, picking up the rhythm. She was right there when Yuri's guitar sounded out again, bolstering it, helping it break through to the surface of the song. Karol's drums boomed and clattered around them, taking up hints of the melody before reforming and smothering it once more. The drums grew louder, heated and furious, but the pressure was building. Judy and Yuri played back and forth to each other ever faster, boiling beneath the beat, straining to break through. The lyrics, barely rising above the fracturing rumble of drums, called to the melody, and when guitar, bass, and drums synchronized, Yuri roared to welcome forth the eruption.

Freed from the heaviness of the opening beat, the melody of the song surged forth in a rush. Karol's drumming broke apart, a chaotic crash and rumble that was eventually caught up and pulled into the newly emerged rhythm. Lyrics were left behind as the instruments became the only voice among them, the notes gathering and rising, drums feeding off guitar feeding off base feeding off drums in a molten flow that poured over the crowd. Gradually, their playing slowed, cooled, until the song closed with a cymbal clash like a hiss of steam.

Yuri looked back at Karol and Judy, grinning so wide his face ached with it. They were on fire, at the absolute top of their game. They were why Yuri would always insist that Dragon Swarm was easily better than Parrotoxin. Zagi's band was about Zagi. His black-suited, goggles-wearing band mates were only there as a backdrop for his own skills. Dragon Swarm celebrated the talents of all three of its members. Each of them worked hard for every show, and put everything they had into each note they played. That was the difference. It wasn't about technical skill. It was about the musicians. It was about the music.

Dragon Swarm played one more song and an encore, and by the time they left the stage, Yuri was well into a performer's high. He slung an arm around Judy's shoulders and ruffled Karol's hair, grinning uncontrollably. Estelle led her girlfriend Rita and Flynn over to the stage as they began breaking down the drum kit. Crash and the Capels made their way through the departing crowd as well, and the whole group of them got the instruments packed up to carry them back to the car.

Yuri was in the middle of everything, praising Karol's performance to his parents and taking compliments with tongue-in-cheek arrogance. He could have done laps up and down the amphitheater steps, but he settled for bouncing among the group slowly making its way out of the park, talking about how well things had gone at ZaFest, what he'd missed on Saturday, and what they ought to do next year.

Flynn griped about having been knocked into the mosh pit. He'd been shoved around for a while, and when he'd finally managed to make himself heard, shouting politely to be allowed to slip past and get out of the way, he'd been picked up and crowd surfed back to the edge where he'd retreated to the safety of the tiered seating and stayed there through the end of the show. Yuri swooped in to jostle him, poking him in the ribs and teasing him about whether he'd gotten a bit bruised up. Flynn shoved him off, fighting back a smile, but Yuri only closed in again, joined by Karol and Crash to form a mini mosh pit that hustled him back and forth as they made their way up the sidewalk.

At some point during the walk, it was decided that they would all head down to the Black Hole Bistro for an after party, a plan Yuri's stomach loudly agreed with. They split up temporarily at the parking garage to get the instruments stowed away in whichever car would get them taken back where they belonged. Estelle, Rita, and Crash followed Karol and his parents back to the parking garage to help with the drum kit, and Judy left the boys at Flynn's car to put her gear away.

Although the walk had cooled him down a bit, Yuri was still in high spirits, and leaned against the side of the car, swaying a little as Flynn got the doors unlocked. The question was on the tip of his tongue, held back only by his uncertainty about the answer he would receive. He fought briefly with himself, fading adrenaline warring with doubt until a rising irritation over his indecision had him thrusting the words between them.

"What did you think?"

Flynn didn't answer right away. He hit the button to unlock the back doors and shooed Yuri out of the way to get them open and let him slide his guitar case onto the seat. The slam of the door was loud in the garage, and Yuri found that he was beginning to have trouble keeping up his expectant grin as Flynn considered him. He tucked his hands into his pockets, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

"Well?"

With a smile, Flynn slipped past him and began the walk back to the street. "You don't need me to tell you that you're good."

Yuri overtook him and turned around, lacing his fingers behind his head and walking backwards.

"No, but I'd like to hear it anyway." He grinned, liking the way Flynn's smile went a little crooked when they were getting along.

"If I get into metal—don't get excited, I said 'if'—it will be because of you."

"Ha! Karol's gonna be psyched!" He didn't miss the frown that flashed across Flynn's face, nor the fact that his smile, when it returned, wasn't quite so amused. "What?"

Flynn shook his head. "Nothing. Where's this restaurant we're going to?"

The Black Hole Bistro was a hidden gem in downtown Zaphias. Down a flight of concrete steps, it was below the beaten path, with only a small sign to indicate that it existed at all. It had been one of Yuri's favorite places to eat for years, featuring a small but eclectic menu and big portions. The group trickled in from the street and was shown to a large booth in the back. Yuri wound up sandwiched between Flynn and Crash, and found himself pulled in two directions as they both kept asking questions about the menu. He knew Crash was familiar with the food, and figured he was only asking to poke fun at Flynn. It got old quick, though, and he snatched the menu out of his hands and smacked him on the head with it before scooting a little closer to Flynn.

"Let me see that." He grabbed one side of the menu Flynn held and pulled until it was centered between them. "Try the pork tenderloin," he said, pointing. "You'll like it."

"Thanks."

"Sure."

After that, dinner was a blur of conversation and laughter and good food. Yuri was starved after everything he'd put into the performance and even gave Karol's growing boy appetite a run for its money as he wolfed down his own dinner and half of Crash's fries. He even packed away some of Flynn's pork, though the offer to share had surprised him. Never one to turn down free food, however, he'd helped himself and put it down to a sign that things were going to work out between them. The night was just getting better and better.

Gradually, the euphoria faded away, leaving him tired but satisfied and slumping against the back of the booth as he slurped a milkshake and let the chatter wash over him. Plates were cleaned and the bills had been passed around when Crash rapped his knuckles against the side of Yuri's head.

"Not crashing, are you? That's my thing."

"Nah, I'm good."

Crash let his hand drop, the backs of his fingers just barely brushing against Yuri's cheek before settling on his shoulder. "You wanna…?" He jerked his head toward the exit and they shared a grin. It had been a great night so far. Be a shame to let the fun end too soon.

"Sure."

As they started to slide out of the booth, Flynn reached out and caught Yuri's wrist.

"Wait. Your things are in my car."

"It's just Old Scratch. He'll be fine till tomorrow."

Flynn's grip eased up a bit, but he didn't let go. "What about Repede?"

"You mind taking care of him for me again?"

"No, but—"

"So, we're cool? Night's winding down, everyone's headed home. I'm not going to get back tomorrow and be accused of ditching you, right?"

That did the trick. Flynn dropped his hand and turned away, though from the look on his face, Yuri could guess he'd be hearing about that later. He got up and headed for the register with Crash. Flynn was definitely a weird one. Maybe he was just annoyed over being expected to care for Repede. It wasn't like it was that big a deal, but then, it wasn't his responsibility, either. Whatever. They'd work it out later. He and Crash paid their tabs and left.

Yuri got home early the next morning, figuring Flynn might not be in such a pissy mood if he didn't have to give Repede breakfast, too. He was quiet as he came in, thinking that it was possible even Flynn would take it easy and sleep in during summer break. He was wrong. The house reeked of a strange mix of spices, and he could hear running water and voices from the kitchen. Apparently, Flynn had tried to make himself some breakfast and was chatting while he washed the dishes. He had his phone on speaker, sitting on the counter next to the sink as he scrubbed out a small frying pan.

"…just bothered me," He was saying as Yuri came in.

'Crash is a little silly, but he's a good person.' Estelle's voice sounded tinny from the miniature speakers.

"I know, I just…. I don't like him. He was practically in Yuri's lap at dinner. Besides, don't you think it's rude how he keeps pulling Yuri away from his friends?"

'Yuri and Crash are…well….'

"I know. What does Yuri see in him, though?"

'Flynn…it sounds almost like you're jealous.'

The noise Yuri's keys made as they hit the floor was jarring over the steady rush of water into the sink. He stood frozen as Flynn whipped around, eyes wide and mouth agape. Suddenly, his weird behavior made a lot more sense.

Well. That was going to make things awkward.