Author's Notes: Sorry that I've been dragging my feet about posting this last act. There is a scene in here heavily influenced by a scene from Reiko Shimizu's Moon Child (vol.10). If you've had the pleasure of reading Moon Child, you'll recognize it. I really couldn't pass up having Yuri do that to Flynn.

"You don't want to date me."

That was the response Flynn got every time he asked. There was never any hesitation or wavering on the subject. That's all Yuri would say about it, and he never explained why. This morning had been no different.

Their evening activities still continued as if things were no different, but Flynn felt differently now than he had before. He now had more of an appreciation for Yuri's body and his movements than he had for the simple feel of him. What had been initially lust was something stranger, something stronger now. It made him feel weak in the knees and made his mouth terribly dry. He had an inkling of what it was, but Yuri didn't seem interested in letting him find out if he was right.

It was so frustrating that even now while they were together at the gym working out, Yuri was acting like nothing had changed at all between them during the past few weeks. Things had definitely changed, whether or not he wanted to admit it. Flynn's talk with Estelle had gotten the ball rolling on Flynn actually seeing those changes. It had been a sudden and eye opening event.

He tried to stay focused on the display on his treadmill. It was hard when Yuri was right beside him, jogging along as he always did. His hair bounced as he moved, and his head bobbed slightly as he moved in time to the music that was coming through his headphones. He was focused. He was always focused. If it wasn't on training, it was on dancing, or cooking, or sex, or something. He seemed always sound in his path. He never seemed to question anything. He knew what he was doing and he did it.

The gears of Flynn's treadmill ground to a stop as his time ran out without him even noticing. Yuri's stopped a moment later and he hopped off with a stretch in his step. Next they would move into the boxing room as had become their habit.

"Yo, Flynn!" A voice called from behind them, and they both turned. It was Hachette and the rest of Flynn's teammates clad in gym gear and carrying boxing gloves. This was not the first time they had shown up here after learning that this is where Flynn trained.

"Hello."

"Up for a match?"

"Sure, I..." Flynn turned to look at Yuri, who had since turned away, his towel draped over his shoulders. "Yuri?"

"I'll see you." He grabbed his water bottle and gym bag and disappeared into the shower room. This was not the first time he had left abruptly after Flynn's team showed up. In fact, he left every time. Flynn questioned it at first, but when Yuri offered up no explanation, he stopped asking. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer from the stubborn dancer.

"What's with your friend?" LeBlanc asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"He's got to get to work," was the only lie that Flynn could come up with. It seemed to satisfy them.

The group of them moved into the boxing room, Flynn lagging behind slightly. Why wasn't this working? Was he doing something wrong? He kept wondering that all the way through the remainder of his workout, straight through hockey practice, and on the way home.

He was hungry and antsy. As he traversed the darkened streets of the city of Zaphias, a place he was quickly starting to enjoy living in, he came upon Tolbyccia Pizza, the first place where he had had anything close to a home cooked meal. In that moment, nothing sounded better than a pizza with the works.

Flynn wasn't sure what he walked into when he entered the pizzeria, but he didn't like the sound of things. Don was in the open kitchen, his hands that had previously always been busy with the tools of his trade were instead balled into firm fists on the counter. He was loud, upset about something, and Yuri was standing there at the counter, being subjected to whatever the topic of conversation was.

"I'm warnin' ya. Stay away from that man. Maybe what he says sounds nice, but I guarantee that he's up ta no good. He means to seduce ya away from where ya belong."

"Take it easy. I haven't agreed to anything yet," Yuri replied, waving his hand dismissively.

"I'm serious, lad. That man is bad news."

"Can I get my pie?"

Don turned, grumbling gruffly as he went back to work.

Flynn took that lull in the conversation as an opportunity to approach the counter and lean up against it a few feet away from Yuri. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

Yuri turned, a brief flash of surprise across his face that melted into his usual smirk. "And why not when I can get the best pizza in town?"

"Flattery won't get ya no where. Yer still on my shit list."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd get some dinner. What are you getting?"

"The works. What about you?"

"The same. Why don't we eat together back at my place?" He was hoping to get to talk to Yuri. He was hoping that he could at least get the reason why Yuri refused to date him out of him. Surely, this wasn't a lost cause. Even if Yuri didn't share the feelings that were burgeoning within Flynn, he just wanted a clear answer.

"Sounds good to me."

As soon as the pizza was out of the oven and paid for, they were off back to Flynn's apartment. They ate in near silence. It was unnerving how quiet his apartment was even with the two of them in it.

Yuri stood and stretched, a graceful motion that often sent Flynn's blood racing and his body aching. A few steps took him away from the dinette table and into the living room. He paced for a moment, humming to himself. This was something Flynn had never witnessed him do before. He seemed nervous, almost agitated. For a moment, it was a back and forth, around in a circle, watching his feet and moving his arms slightly.

"Are you okay?"

Flynn simple question broke Yuri out of his concentration and his head snapped over to look at Flynn.

"Oh. I'm just going over the steps for this piece of Carmen."

"Would you show me?"

Yuri face went a shade paler than it already was and he pushed a long black lock of hair out of his eyes. "It's complicated. It requires a partner."

"Oh, it's a duet then?"

He suppressed a laugh, and sighed slightly. "Not exactly. A pas de deux, move for two dancers, usually has both in motion. Jose's dance is different. Instead of dancing together, Jose dances around Carmen. It's the dance of a man who has sacrificed everything for the woman he loves, and whom he eventually kills in a fit of passion."

"So you need someone to dance around?"

"Yeah."

Flynn stood and moved within Yuri's path. "What do I need to do?"

"You? Oh, no. That is not happening."

"Why?"

"You're not a dancer. You have no training."

"But you'll be the one dancing."

Yuri sighed again and rubbed his forehead, still pacing. After a half a dozen steps, he stopped, folding his arms across his chest. "Fine. Stand right there and don't move."

Flynn did as he was told and stood in the middle of the living room, hands at his sides. Yuri took a deep breath, shaking his arms to loosen up before dropping his phone on the table and pressing a button. A song began to play and he strode up to Flynn. His eyes were bright with fire, so similar to what Flynn saw whenever he performed.

He raised his arms above his head, his feet together. He pressed close to Flynn, one arm high as the other wrapped around Flynn. Yuri slid around him, the undulating of his arms, the constant motions distracting as hell. He wanted to follow Yuri's movements, but he didn't dare move and break Yuri's concentration. This was the first time he had gotten a private showing.

Yuri's eyes were always fixed on him, even as he dipped low, and jutted upward to him, his face only inches away. His movements were smooth, graceful, and unhesitating, like a bird dancing to impress its mate. Closer and closer, he drew, his motions becoming more rapid, almost frenzied as he circled Flynn. Reaching in, reaching up, nearly touching but keeping his fingers only inches away from Flynn's skin. He was nearly on his knees, nearly begging.

It stopped abruptly, the music and the motion, with Yuri on his knees in front of Flynn, his eyes closed for the first time, and his hands splayed over his ears. His face was wracked with pain, taut with anguish, and Flynn couldn't understand why. Was it simply the dance, or something more?

Either way, Flynn was very suddenly turned on. The intimacy of the dance, the fire of Yuri's stare, the sway of his body drove Flynn's mind crazy.

Yuri stood after several long seconds, and Flynn caught him by the hand.

"I think you've got it."

Yuri's face reddened a few shades as he jolted back slightly, surprised by Flynn's sudden reaction.

He pulled Yuri forward, pressing their lips together. He waited only a second to deepen the kiss, clasping Yuri tightly against himself. Yuri moaned a tiny bit, but it was enough to put Flynn's nerves on edge. He kissed him again, hungrier than before, but slower. He wanted Yuri. He wanted Yuri badly, but he waited for something of a reply.

Yuri replied to his hunger in kind, and they stumbled into the bedroom.

Flynn wasted no time pulling away clothing as quickly as he could, exposing Yuri's flesh to his wandering hands and hungry mouth. Each little moan and noise and squirm only urged him on. He wriggled out of his own clothing with a little help and as soon as they were bare, he slowed significantly. He needn't rush this.

He let his hands wander across the expanse of Yuri's skin. He hadn't noticed before how soft it was, or how lovely he looked with his hair splayed out beneath him, lying underneath Flynn with a slight flush still to his face. His voice was sweet and heady with each moan and sigh. He responded so warmly to each of Flynn's touches.

Flynn traced a long, winding path of kisses down Yuri's chest and abdomen, his hands moving further down to caress his thighs. He wanted every inch of skin to quiver beneath his touch, beneath his lips. For a long time, all he did was kiss and touch, listening to the tiny sounds Yuri made, feeling the touch of Yuri's fingers on his own body. He tried to move things on, to keep the act in motion, but Flynn wouldn't let him. He wanted this to be slow. Their numerous times before this seemed like a frenzy, like it only lasted moments and he didn't want that. He wanted this to last as long as possible, even though his own body was growing impatient with him.

He moved down, looping his arms underneath Yuri to cradle his hips. He teased gently and slowly Yuri's swollen heat with teeth and tongue, listening carefully to the sharp gasp and the heated moan that followed. With that encouragement, Flynn kept it up, taking Yuri slowly into his mouth. Yuri tried to buck up against him, overwhelmed by the warm and wet touch, but Flynn held his hips down tightly.

Back and forth he moved with his lips and tongue, savoring each of Yuri's moans. He stifled each, holding back, digging his fingers into Flynn's shoulders, trying so hard to control himself. Flynn increased the pressure, hoping that he would just let go and enjoy it. He wanted Yuri to stop holding back.

"Flynn..." Yuri's voice sounded so needy, so hungry. Flynn was doing something right. He didn't intend to stop but Yuri's voice uttered out again, almost desperate. "Stop."

He did immediately, pulling back to look at him and place a few more kisses on the low of Yuri's hips. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah." He took Flynn by the shoulders and pulled him up into a kiss. "Don't keep me waiting forever."

Flynn took that as his sign to continue, and fished out the necessary preparations. With slow, gentle motions he got Yuri ready. He took his time, watching Yuri squirm, creeping toward ecstasy with just Flynn's fingers. Flynn was a little ashamed to admit that he liked seeing Yuri like this.

He pulled his hand away as soon as Yuri signaled that he was ready. Flynn entered slow and gentle, feeling Yuri stretch beneath him to accommodate him. He leaned back, head pressed into the pillows, fingers curled tight into their softness. He clamped his legs around Flynn's waist and eased rather quickly. He never seemed to have a tough time of this. After just a moment, he was ready to continue, and Flynn didn't disappoint. The rock of his hips against Yuri was slow but strong.

As the motion grew a little sharper upward against him, Yuri curled up, looping his arms around Flynn's neck. The rough scrape of Yuri's fingernails over the skin of his back and shoulders sent a shiver of pleasure and anticipation up Flynn's spine. He moaned into their kiss and then pulled back to watch Yuri enjoy himself.

The quiver of sweat-slick flesh, the clouded look in those half lidded charcoal eyes, the beautiful sounds coming out of Yuri's mouth all urged Flynn onward, but he kept it slow. Flynn wanted to make Yuri feel the same hot and sweet sensation that Yuri made him feel. He wanted to show Yuri that he was serious. He wanted more than causal sex from their relationship. He wanted to be more than friends with benefits.

With all the fire and passion between them, Flynn couldn't figure out why Yuri kept saying 'You don't want to date me.' He never said 'No' or 'I'm not interested in anything long term.' It was always the same thing, but Flynn knew it was a denial. But he couldn't figure out why. Maybe Yuri's own interests were just for a casual relationship. Maybe he didn't want anything more, but if that was the case, why didn't he just say so?

Slowly, he edged Yuri to ecstasy, his endlessly gentle moments unwavering in strength, still kissing and caressing and tangling his hands in Yuri's hair. Even as he could see Yuri getting frustrated with him for taking the journey in inches rather than the leaps and bounds like they were used to, he didn't give in. This was taxing on him, too, but he endured. As long as Yuri was enjoying it, there was no reason to rush.

Finally, Yuri's grip on him tightened. He had learned intimately over the past several weeks what that meant. He was close. He was so close that he was completely losing himself. Yuri's fingers raked across his back again, breaking skin and drawing blood. He cried out loud one last time arching against Flynn in all the right ways, his body shuddering and straining in ecstasy.

Yuri flopped back onto the bed, panting, little moans still escaping his lips. He ran a shivering hand absently through his hair, pushing it out of his face as Flynn covered in him in kisses and finished against him.

There was barely a breath between Yuri's finish and recovery from ecstasy and the question that Flynn posed to him once again. "Please date me."

Yuri wasted no time either. "You don't want to date me."

"Why do you keep saying that? I honestly do."

The look Yuri gave him was searing. "You really don't get it at all, do you?" He pushed him away and rolled off the bed. He picked his clothing up off the floor, pulling the pieces on as he went.

"Yuri, wait-"

He didn't. As soon as he was dressed, he was out of the room and the front door slammed behind him. He was left alone for the first night in a long time, and it was quiet and unnerving. Flynn wanted answers, he wanted to follow, but he didn't.

In spite of their strange falling out a few nights before, Flynn still attended the opening show of Carmen, and sat in one of the seats that Estelle reserved for him. The other seat that was hers to reserve was also occupied this time, which was unusual.

The girl who sat there was short, with choppy brown hair and teal eyes. She ignored him completely, and everyone else for that matter, for the contents of a book. On the other side of him, in the two seats that were always empty, was a tall man with slate colored hair, who was dressed sharply. It was strange to see anybody sitting in those seats. They were Yuri's reserved seats, and, in all the performances that Flynn had attended, there had never been anybody there.

The man was talking on his cell phone, jabbering in another language with the person on the other end. Who was he and why was he was in Yuri's reserved seat?

Finally, he snapped his phone shut and slid it into the breast pocket of his coat. His eyes scanned the crowd, but as soon as the first curtain drew back, he was fixed like a hunter on the stage.

The ballet of Carmen was announced and the second layer of curtains furled back, revealing a stage lit in red lights and decorated with tall, wooden pillars. Estelle as Carmen bounded out first and slid into the dance. Confident and sultry, she moved across the stage. She was putting on a display beneath the hot light that bathed the stage and herself in red. After a moment of this display, she disappeared off stage. Her disappearance was quickly followed by the appearance of a male dancer that Flynn didn't recognize, on the other side of the stage.

This dancer, playing the character of Zuniga, took steps that were stiff and militaristic, marching across the stage. Yuri as Jose appeared finally, dressed in a blue military jacket and stood at attention before his commanding officer. As the other dancer approached him, he moved in to follow the march. The two continued the stiff dance. Jose's steps almost mirrored those of his superior, marching and spinning across the stage.

As their dance concluded, Yuri was left on the side of the stage at attention, standing guard, and his commander left. A second later, Carmen was back with her ease and confidence, strutting around behind him. He largely ignored her, and she dipped back behind one of the pillars. She poked out to look at him, smiling, and then slid back. Her leg extended out in a bid for his attention. When that didn't work, she crept back onto the stage, making small clusters of dance on the far side of the stage, taunting and tempting, and slowly, his eyes went to her as she approached once more.

He took a step back as she neared him, regarding her cautiously. Her dance continued, and he tried to resist her charms. In the end, Carmen's grace and charisma won. Their separate dances blended into a pas de deux. Carmen pulled away with a mock kiss as it ended, and they parted ways. Three brightly dressed dancers took their place.

The commander returned before the dancers, dragging Carmen, and threw her at the returning Jose. When they were left alone immediately after, another pas de deux started. Jose was still resisting Carmen's blatant advances, but was once again won over. With Jose completely enraptured by her fiery beauty, she escaped capture.

Jose's dance alone was much different from his earlier dance. The stiffness was gone, a freedom there instead. But there was pain, too: The impassioned pain of a man who was in love.

The intermission pulled Flynn roughly back to reality as the curtain dropped. The man beside him reached for his cell phone once more, but stopped as he caught sight of Flynn.

"Oh, hullo." His smile was as sharp as the rest of him and instantly marked him as untrustworthy. "You must be a friend of the prima ballerina, ja?"

"Yes."

Out of the same breast pocket, the man pulled a business card and handed it to him. "Here is my card. My name is Yeager."

The card read his name and below, a profession along with a phone number and email address.

"You're-"

"A talent scout for the Dahngrest Ballet." His phone began to ring a second later. "Ah, excuse me." He flipped open his phone and went back to chatting.

The Dahngrest Ballet was the largest in the world, famous for their exceptionally talented dancers and their perfect and high budget performances. They were world-renowned. What was a talent scout for them doing here?

"I wish he would just shut up," the girl beside him grumbled.

"He is rather chatty."

"That's putting it mildly."

"I'm Flynn. Are you a friend of Estelle's?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Name's Rita. You must be her cousin then."

"That's right."

The intermission ended before they could continue the conversation, and Flynn's eyes were fixed once more on the stage. Escamillo, the bullfighter, came and did his dance on stage, flashy and proud, strutting like a peacock for Carmen. She danced with him briefly, impressed, but in the end, she pushed him away.

Jose returned to the stage, and almost instantly a battle ensued between him and Escamillo. He drove the bullfighter away, and turned his attentions Carmen.

Another dance erupted between them, movements like a pair of birds in a mating dance. It was a dance of passion, of longing. The fire between them grew even hotter, but she pushed him away, too, and stood in the middle of the stage, motionless and defiant.

That's when Jose's dance began, the same one that Flynn had witnessed a few nights before while Yuri was practicing. But this dance, embodying the pain of a man in love, was different. The movements were the same, the same pleading and anguish, the same steps, but something was strange. This what not what Yuri had shown him. The feeling was gone, and his steps were cold and blank.

No one else seemed to notice this, but Flynn wasn't paying attention to the rest of the audience. His eyes were transfixed on Yuri, and the rest of the ballet passed with barely the blink of an eye. In fact, he only realized that it had ended when Rita called to him. The rest of the audience had already gone.

"Hey, hurry up. You want to go meet up with Estelle, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

They headed out of the theater and down a hall to were the backstage door was, as well as the dressing rooms.

Yeager was there, talking to Yuri, who was still in his loose white shirt and black tights from the finale. They seemed cordial. Yeager shook hands with him and gave him a business card. After a few moments of chatting, Yuri broke off the conversation in favor of changing, and Yeager passed them without a word.

That's when it hit Flynn. No talent scout would come unless they had a reason, and the reason had been Yuri.

Panic rose hot in his throat, leaving a sliver of a metallic taste lingering on the back of his tongue. Yuri was leaving. He was going to move far away to be famous and he was going to leave Flynn behind. Flynn wasn't sure why that scared him so much so suddenly, but it did. Yuri was one of the things he had really come to enjoy about living in the city. And he knew that his interest and feelings for Yuri extended far beyond a casual lay.

"I'm sorry that took so long." Estelle broke the strange silence that settled over them as she came out of one of the dressing rooms. She was wearing standard street clothing and smiling. "I'm so glad that you could both make it."

"I-It's nothing." Rita's face reddened a shade, and then five shades darker as Estelle slipped her hand into Rita's.

"How about we go get something for dinner? I'm starving."

"What about the opening party?"

"No one would notice if I skipped out," she chuckled. "Come on. It'll be fun. Let's wait for Yuri, too. I'm sure that he'd like to come along."

"I'm not hungry. You guys go on without me," Yuri said from the doorway of the other dressing room. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were occupied with the floor.

"Don't be a party pooper, Yuri!" She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward them.

He cracked a bit of the smile, crooked and half-hearted. "All right, all right. I'll go."

They left the theater for the bustle of the city at night and walked to Tolbyccia Pizza. Don congratulated them as they ordered and they sat down to a hot cheese pizza and a few cold drinks.

Flynn wanted to talk to Yuri, to ask him what was going on. He wanted to know if his suspicions were justified. Was Yuri planning on leaving the Halure Dance Troupe to work in the Dahngrest Ballet? Was he really going to leave them all behind? Was he really going to leave Flynn behind? But his lips felt glued shut and he never got around to bringing it up. He hoped that after dinner, he could catch up with Yuri, but nothing panned out right. Yuri left first, disappearing in the dark streets, and Flynn was left to walk home alone in the end.

He was a little relieved when he found Yuri at the gym the next morning, but there was hardly a word said between them when Flynn still had so much that he wanted to say. Why had things suddenly become so terribly awkward and when had it started?

Yuri was pummeling the sandbag like he did every day, but this was different. His focus was so narrow that he didn't hear Flynn try to talk to him, and if he did, then he simply ignored him. He knew that Yuri could get in the zone and drown out anything else, but there was something distinctly different about this focus.

When Yuri paused to take a breath and start a second assault, Flynn tried to get his attention.

"Yuri, I-"

"Yo, Flynn!" A voice called from across the gym and drew their attention. It was Flynn's team again, headed by Hachette.

Yuri didn't even acknowledge him this time before making himself scarce. He didn't even bother to pack his gym bag before leaving. Hachette and his teammates were left staring at Flynn, faces wearing confusion and concern.

"Everything okay between you and Yuri?"

"Uh, what? Yeah. Everything's fine. Why?"

"Because I've never known him to be so cold."

"Wait. What?" Flynn was taken aback. "You mean, you know Yuri?"

"Yeah. Didn't he tell you? We went to high school together," Hachette explained. "You two are together, right?"

"Uh-" A cold weight settled uneasily in his stomach. How did they know? He avoided their eyes.

"I mean, I'm just assuming, but I've known since high school that Yuri was gay. He just never made a big deal of it."

"So... you all knew?" He was waiting. For the boos, for the taunting, for the abuse. He knew it was coming. It was so readily given the first time. He just wished that they'd get it over with so that he could move on with his life. This was unbearable. This was not how be wanted his secret coming out.

"Well, yeah." Hachette said that like it was no problem at all, and Flynn felt his body subconsciously flinch backward.

Any time now.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you're one of the team," LeBlanc added, leaning against him with one huge arm.

"That's right!" Another teammate said from the back of the group.

"You're still one of us no matter who you like."

The coldness receded and the warmth filling up his chest was almost too much to bear. There was pure sincerity in their voices and their broad, friendly grins reassured him further that this was okay. He didn't need to hide and he didn't need to be ashamed. For the first time, he didn't feel that overbearing guilt of this secret weighing on him.

"Thanks," was all he could muster through holding back the well of emotion.

"No problem, man. You're one of us, after all."

"I guess that's why Yuri never stuck around," Hachette added.

"What do you mean?"

"He was probably worried about outing you."

Suddenly, everything made sense.

Even hours of practice did little to clear his head. Any dance he could think of, even those beyond his skill level, even the most basic, he used to block the burning in his brain. But nothing did any good. Covered in sweat, feet bruised and bloodied, Yuri headed home.

Yeager's offer was looking better and better. In the Dahngrest Ballet, his hard work and dedication would at least be a little better recognized than it was here in Zaphias. He didn't care about being famous. He just wanted a little recognition. Didn't everyone who ever worked hard at something they were passionate about? He would be able to travel the world and dance for all manner of people. And best of all, he wouldn't be here anymore.

Friends.

He was so sick of that word. Sick of people who were ashamed to be seen with him. Sick of people who lied to others to hide him. Flynn wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. There would always be people who were like that, and he would always end up gravitating toward them. It was just the way it was.

Yuri had gotten too comfortable. He had let this go on too long and go too far. He had gotten too used to Flynn, to the warmth of his arms and his bed. But there was still more to it than that. Deep down, Yuri couldn't bring himself to endanger Flynn's career, his passion, just because Yuri might have wanted to be more than friends. It just wasn't right.

He had long ago come to terms with what he was. He didn't care anymore what people thought about his career and his sexuality. But he also knew that not everyone would come to it so easily as he had.

He had the key to his apartment out as he rounded out of the stairway, and he caught glimpse of something white and rectangular. It was an envelope, its corner stuck behind the number six that marked his door. On its front was his own name in Flynn's handwriting, handwriting much neater than it should have been for a hockey player. Yuri plucked it down with a sigh. At this point, he was tempted to just throw it away, regardless of its contents. Flynn just didn't get it.

Yuri threw the envelope onto his kitchen counter as he passed through into his living room. He flopped down on the sofa, half glad that it didn't smell like Flynn anymore. Once alone in his cold, empty apartment, Yeager's offer was even more tempting. The pros of going outweighed the cons significantly. It was a once in a lifetime chance.

He sighed again and struggled to get comfortable. After a half an hour of tossing and turning, he pulled himself off and paced back into the kitchen. The envelope was still waiting on the counter for him. He spent a long moment just staring at it, wondering what it was, why it was here, but it just lay there. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he ripped its flap and peeked at the contents.

There was a note inside, along with a ticket for a hockey game. The note was simple and concise. Please come see me play tomorrow night.

For a long time, he just stared at the ticket and the note. It was too late now.

Yuri pulled his cell phone out of his hoodie pocket and dialed. He pressed the phone to his ear, listening impatiently as it rang. After just a moment, the other end of the line crackled to life.

"Guten tag, Yeager speaking."

"Yes. This is Yuri Lowell, with the Halure Dance Troupe. We spoke the other night."

"Oh, ja, the magnificent Jose from Carmen. I hafe bin eagerly expecting your call."

"I've made my decision."

Making it through to halftime was grueling. Right now, the Zaphias Knights were a little ahead, thirteen to eleven. They were struggling against their opponents, the Mantaic Brawlers, and Flynn felt like he was a big part of that struggle. He was feeling low. It was half way through the game and he had yet to see Yuri. Had his realizations been too late? Had Yuri already left without saying goodbye?

Flynn watched the clock as it ticked down to the time that his plan would be thrown into action, whether or not Yuri was there. If Yuri wasn't there, Flynn was, at the very least, setting himself up for a huge disappointment. But this is what it had come to, and all he could do was hope.

"Don't worry so much, man." Hachette pulled out his mouth guard, and lifted his facemask a bit. "See?" He pointed up into the bleachers.

He didn't want to look at first, but finally he did, scanning the crowd and found Yuri sitting there. Yuri's eyes were on the ice, although he looked less than enthusiastic. The weight on Flynn lifted a tiny bit. Even if his plan didn't work out, at least he was there. He would just have to make it through the game, and his confidence was renewed the tiniest bit.

He could do this. He couldn't afford to fail.

It wasn't that he disliked hockey. Yuri just wasn't a huge fan of sports. He tried to keep his interest in the game, mostly because Flynn had specifically invited him, but he honestly had little idea what was going on. A black puck was knocked into one goal or the other, but the violence that abbreviated these scorings seemed to be the true purpose. It was pretty barbaric, but in the sort of way that Yuri could get behind. It was pretty interesting at least as far as the violent aspect went.

But why had Flynn invited him?

Even without an answer, he kept watching and waiting. His decision was already made. Nothing Flynn could do at this point could change that. It was the right one. It was the one that was the best. He had to assure himself of that.

A hush fell over the crowd, and then a strange buzz that wasn't the cry for one of the teams or for violence. It was excitement, and suddenly, every eye in the bleachers, in the whole rink was on him.

Yuri looked up and around, everyone still watching him. It was much different than being on stage. This was sudden and uncomfortable. His face felt hot, and then even hotter as his eyes caught the monitor over the ice. In the pixilated LED screen was his own face. His eyes were locked on the screen, and thankfully after a moment, his picture faded out in a cheesy animated effect. The text that replaced it wasn't of much comfort.

'Will you date me, Yuri?'

He froze. This wasn't happening. Flynn hadn't done this, but this theory was proven wrong.

Flynn's hulking, padded form skidded out onto the ice, and he turned to look up at Yuri. He pulled off his facemask and helmet, tossing them to one of his teammates.

"I love you!"

The heat crept down his neck as the crowd cheered. Yuri couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or angry, but it sure felt like both. His legs wobbled as he urged them to stand. They never failed him. They weren't going to do it now just because of something like this. Words of retaliation were hot in his mouth, burning holes in his tongue, desperate to be spoken.

"Play your goddamn game!"

Flynn smiled. Yuri had grown too used to that smile. It was infuriating and lit up Flynn's whole face. He liked it too much.

Yuri ducked back down in his seat, pulling the hood of his coat over his head in a failed attempt to hide from the rest of the audience in the hockey rink. He folded his arms over his chest and hunkered down and was glad as soon as the buzzer signaled the start of the second half.

Not the response he had hoped for, but one he should have expected. The fact that Yuri even showed up, and that he hadn't left immediately right after Flynn's little stunt was enough for him.

Even without a proper answer from Yuri, without knowing how he felt, Flynn felt better. The weight on him was gone, and one way or another, everything was going to be okay. He got his head back in the game.

The buzzer called out again and again, ringing for their victory. When he was in the zone, the game just flew by. It felt like no opponent could touch them, like the puck gravitated to them, like the whole of the crowd was crying out for them to win. The score was no longer near even. He couldn't remember the last time the opposing team had gotten a goal in and he couldn't remember the last time that he felt so alive.

It was an overwhelming victory for the Zaphias Knights: thirty to eleven. He was sore when it was all over, but it had been worth it. The adrenaline pumping in his veins started to fade as he left the shower, still getting congratulations from his teammates. But it had been a group effort.

They left the locker room together, and waiting just outside was Yuri. His pale face was still flushed. He started toward Flynn as soon as he saw him, steps hurried and braced with anger.

The rest of his team took a step back, leaving Flynn to fend for himself.

"Yuri, I can-"

Yuri didn't let him finish. He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward, pressing their lips together in a move that surprised Flynn for its harsh and sudden nature, but he didn't mind.

He pulled back and Flynn felt a smile start to cross his face, when Yuri caught him by surprise again. Yuri's fist collided with his stomach, hitting a bruise left forming from the game, and knocked the wind out of him. With swiftness that he had forgotten, Yuri's arm was clamped around his neck, the opposite hand gripping Flynn's belt. He crouched at his knees and sprung up, pulling Flynn right off the ground, and putting him squarely on his back behind him.

While the blow from Yuri's suplex had him reeling, he could hear his teammates cheering. He looked up at Yuri, who hadn't moved, save to glare down at him.

Hachette said something about leaving the two of them alone, and with their departure, he would have to fend for himself again. Not that he was doing a very good job.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Yuri's voice was much calmer than Flynn anticipated.

"I'm being honest."

Yuri sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I know about the talent scout. I... I don't want you to go. I mean, I won't stand in the way of your career, but I just-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"What?"

"It wasn't worth it. I like living here. Besides, moving is a huge pain."

He felt that smile at the corner of his lips again, spreading fast and far until his cheeks nearly hurt.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not staying because of you." His face went a shade darker.

"I love you."

"I heard you the first time. Either way, you better get up. I'm hungry."

Flynn stood, "Hungry?"

"You said you wanted to date me, right? Well, let's go on a date."

He couldn't smile any brighter than he already was.

Flynn was worried when he moved to this town. He had felt alone in a strange new city, interacting with people he had never met, but now he found that this concern had been unwarranted. The people he met and the things he had learned in several short weeks had made such a difference. He learned that the people who mattered cared about him. His career was looking promising. He wasn't alone anymore. He had Estelle. He had his teammates. He had Yuri. That was the best he could ever ask for.