A/N: Flynn's room in Aurnion looks like a warm and cozy place for a nap.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
Over the course of five years, Aurnion had blossomed from a rough little haven of a village into a thriving city. To Flynn, it seemed to combine the friendly bustle of the lower quarter with the charm of Halure. The original palisades had been dug up years ago to allow the city to expand, but the shape of the settlement in its early days could still be seen in the curve of a tree-lined lane. He walked along through shade and sun beneath the branches, watching the people passing by, watching for one person in particular.
It was past noon on the second day of a three day festival to mark the town's founding, and the streets were lively despite the revelry that had continued through the previous night and into the wee hours of the morning. The city was garlanded and festooned with sweet-smelling blossoms and bright streamers. Strings of paper lanterns, their candles burned out hours ago, hung between buildings and trees, over streets and around squares, waiting to be lit once more when dusk returned. The table from Flynn's room had been appropriated and set up with the others before the city's monument where they'd been heaped with platters of cold meat, cheese, fresh breads sweetened with fruit or flavored with nuts and spices, fruits, pies both sweet and savory, and delicate little cakes dusted with sugar. Casks of mead and cider sat by to quench the crowd's thirst, and wine would be provided that night when the bonfires were built up again and the musicians began playing for the dancing crowds.
Away from the feast tables, artisans had turned the streets into patchworks where they had set out blankets and sat down to sell pottery, jewelry, woodcarvings, and a thousand other things. Musicians and puppeteers played on street corners, encouraged as much by the air of merriment and the applause as the jingle of the gald they collected. Aurnion's population had swollen with the influx of family, tourists, old residents and new that had come pouring in for the celebration. Flynn slipped through the crowds, a smile on his face as he searched for Yuri.
They had both been up late last night, catching up as they enjoyed the festival. Yuri had procured them a bottle of wine, and they'd retreated to the room Flynn was staying in, the same one he'd used five years ago when he'd watched the heroes who would defeat Duke and the Adephagos depart from that very city. He could remember, when he thought about it, a fearful concern that had made it terribly difficult to watch Yuri go. For the most part, however, Aurnion was a place of warm memories for him. It was a place of true peace between the empire and the guilds. It was where Yuri had returned to him after being all but given up for dead. The very room they'd shared last night had been the one in which he had first spoken of his feelings to Yuri five years ago and been accepted. They had shared their first kiss in that room and, even now, the thought of it made Flynn cover a smile with his hand, fingers hovering over a tickle of memory only barely softer than that first, warm touch of lips. For him, Aurnion was a city of hopes fulfilled. Estellise had named it 'The Light that Melts Away the Snow.' She couldn't have chosen better.
Even after their late night, Yuri had slipped out of bed at the first stirrings in the town outside the door. He'd never been able to resist a festival, and he'd left Flynn his fading warmth between the sheets as he'd dressed hurriedly and strolled out. When Flynn had finally risen an hour or so later, he'd noticed with a smile that Yuri had left his sword leaning against the wall. There had been a time when he had never been without a blade. It was a comfort to know that something in him had eased enough to let him go without.
Flynn spent just long enough at the laden tables to grab a quick bit of cold breakfast. His growling stomach assuaged, he wound his way past individuals and groups, exploring the festival and the goods on offer. He passed a few hours that way, talking with craftsmen and townsfolk, following up on the conduct of the brigade that aided in protecting the town, and listening to stories of how Aurnion had grown. Eventually, he realized that he hadn't seen Yuri since that morning, and began looking for signs of him.
The crowds had only gotten thicker as the sun passed its peak, and it became far easier to move along the very edge of the street. A thin path between the crowd and the people sitting on the grass below the trees along the lane had been left courteously clear through no apparent spoken agreement. Flynn walked along slowly, watching for a glimpse of Yuri, listening to catch his voice over the commotion. He owed Yuri a duel before they left the city behind again that year. It had become a tradition for them.
He was almost past the open square when something hit him in the back of the head. He spun, training taking over where instinct had failed him. Like Yuri, he'd left his sword in the room, but he was only thrown by its absence for a moment, and, in remembering, he straightened and couldn't help but smile at his overreaction. The world had been mostly peaceful for five years. Whatever had hit him must have been an accident. It certainly hadn't been an attack.
Another small projectile glanced off his shoulder. He saw it this time as it rolled away, a small, green apple from one of the trees he walked under. He looked up, searching for precisely where it had come from, and found Yuri perched where branch met trunk, watching him with a wicked grin.
One more apple was sent flying Flynn's way, then Yuri stuck out his tongue, leapt lightly to the ground on the other side of the trees, and took off in a dash. His head start lengthened as Flynn had to excuse himself and pick carefully around the people picnicking in the dappled shade before he could follow.
Yuri let out an exuberant shout as he dodged around the scattered people in his path, and Flynn couldn't help but laugh in response. He watched Yuri catch up a young girl in his arms, swing her around as if in a dance, and then spin her, handing her off to Flynn and darting away once more. He steadied the girl, fumbling a hurried and grinning plea that she excuse him and his impetuous friend, then left her giggling with her friends after barely a pause in his chase.
Other people weren't the only obstacles, and Yuri's course was sending him straight toward the food. Aiming right at the tables, Yuri planted a hand and leapt easily over the full platters and baskets, as graceful a creature as Flynn had ever seen. On the other side, he paused just long enough to toss a grin over his shoulder and snatch up a cake before he was off again. Called by that grin and encouraged by the joy riding the air, Flynn put on a burst of speed and lunged forward, sliding beneath the table. He came out with a roll and was on his feet without a thought.
Laughter trailed Yuri as surely as the banner of his hair, but his lead was diminishing. Flynn barreled into him at the door to his room, catching Yuri up in his arms. He saw Yuri's hand upon the doorknob, felt the wood swing inward away from his shoulder, and then they were toppling forward, too wrapped up in each other and in the laughter that shook them to feel the impact as they fell to the floor.
Briefly, Yuri fought with him, trying to draw him into a wrestling match now that their race had reached an end. He gave it up easily enough as Flynn rolled onto his back, hauling Yuri over top of him and pulling him close for a kiss. Yuri's mouth was honey-sweet from the mead, and laced with the sharpness of the tiny apples he'd been snacking on. Flynn could just barely reach the door with his outstretched foot, and he gave it a kick, satisfied to hear it click shut.
The kisses they shared weren't enough to hold back the bubbling spring of laughter. They kissed haphazardly between bursts of mirth, brushing each others' cheeks and brows as often with soft exhalations as with lips. Yuri laughed against Flynn's neck, teeth scraping his skin but lacking the pinch of his love bites. He rocked their bodies together and huffed another muffled laugh as Flynn's fingers grazed his sides. When he glanced up and their eyes met, he fell once more to laughing, and Flynn with him so that he hadn't the strength to hold Yuri to him as he rolled to the side.
When calm found them after long minutes of dwindling laughter, Flynn levered himself up onto an elbow and studied Yuri. He was sprawled on the floor, framed in a thick, buttery yellow fall of afternoon sunlight from the skylights. His clothes were rumpled and pulled askew, his hair spread across the honey-colored floorboards. His eyes were closed, but a smile still brightened his face, and he drew deep, satisfied breaths that seemed to carry with them the peace of the suddenly quiet room.
The moments spun out around them, mingling the brightness of the sun-drenched room with the heat of the chase and the warmth of their closeness. A thought was all it took for Flynn to roll onto his side and be able to rest an arm over Yuri. The sunlight poured its warm weight over his skin. He felt the rise and fall of Yuri's breath, the faint beating of his calming heart. The wood beneath him was worn smooth and warmed by sunlight. Yuri smelled of honey and apples and fresh bread, sweat and dust. Flynn kissed his cheek and heard a soft laugh in response.
Time crawled by as the heat of the sun and the sweetness of the moment infused them, left Flynn drowsy and content. He stretched out to stroke Yuri's shoulder, feeling the movements of his hand as slow and smooth as pouring honey. He wasn't sure how long they lay there before he spoke.
"We shouldn't fall asleep on the floor."
"I've slept in worse beds." His voice was low and sleepy, softened with the smile that still bowed his lips. "Here." Bidding Flynn to lift his head, Yuri slipped his arm beneath it. "Now you've got a pillow." He settled in a little closer, stroking lazily over the top of Flynn's arm where the sun kissed his skin. "Better than a blanket."
"We'll be stiff when we wake up." He kissed Yuri's temple, and grinned at the snickers that met that remark.
"We can take care of that when it happens."
The feeling of completeness that had settled over him added wisdom to those words. Flynn sighed and settled in for a nap.