Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
Flynn woke in the middle of the night, not sure at first what had pulled him out of his slumber. A breeze from his open window made him shiver, the cool autumn air slipping over his bare skin in place of the blanket that Yuri had stolen away. Tugging was useless at this point, as Yuri was wrapped up tight as he could be. The only part of him that was visible was the spill of his hair over the pillow.
Too cold to go back to sleep and too cozy to get up and close the window, he dug an arm beneath the oversized pillow Yuri had become and rolled them over, putting Yuri between himself and the source of the chill. He nuzzled in against the radiating heat, smiling against the covers at the complaining grunt from within.
"If you insist on hogging the blankets, I'm going to use you to keep warm," he murmured.
He assumed the sudden jerk from within the cocoon was Yuri attempting to elbow him in the ribs, but he was foiled by his own attempts to keep warm. He'd gotten himself well and truly trapped in the blanket. With a soft laugh, Flynn ran a hand over his shoulder and followed the curve of his arm down to his hand. He traced the shape of Yuri's hip and thigh, familiar with his body clothed or blanketed or bare, and quietly delighted with the reminder that no one else could claim such intimacy.
When a brief bout of wriggling and squirming didn't throw Flynn off or set him free, Yuri quieted down quickly. He relaxed against Flynn and his breathing slowed as he drifted off, completely unconcerned that he had rendered himself helpless. Normally the type to never sleep without a sword within reach, Flynn was both amused and a little touched that Yuri was comfortable enough to fall asleep that way.
He carded his fingers through Yuri's hair, snagging little tangles left over from their ardent reunion earlier that evening. The strands tickled over the back of his hand and caught around the bases of his fingers. He had always found it strange that Yuri kept his hair so long. It was just one more thing an enemy could get a hold of, one more thing that could get in the way during a fight. It took hours to dry and came out full of knots after fighting or lovemaking. Even still, he liked Yuri's hair, liked the way it framed his face and made him look mysterious or wild by turns. He liked it pulled up or tied back or fanned out across the pillows. He twisted some of it around his index finger, considering the silken ribbon spiraling over his skin as he let it unwind.
Slowly, he reached up and wrapped a lock around the base of his ring finger. It was perfect in its impermanence: a symbol of the bond between them that held strong no matter how often Yuri was absent from his side. There was something undeniable and unspoken between them, something that had never needed any of the traditional symbols of dedication, something that was reaffirmed whenever their paths crossed, but never disappeared with distance. He studied the band, watching the dull shine in the dim light as he moved his hand, thinking that Yuri would surely call him stupid over something so silly.
"Quit playing with my hair," Yuri muttered. "I'm trying to sleep. Got a long way to go tomorrow." He yawned and amended: "Today."
With a smile, Flynn kissed the ring of raven hair and let it slip free of his finger.