Only 1 month until the start of this year’s Fluri Week 🌟
The event will take place from Monday, September 23rd to Sunday, September 29th. Prompts can be found above, as beautifully designed by the amazing @preservedcucumbers.
Art, fic, edits, videos, photo/gifsets - every format is welcome! Entries will be tagged #FluriWeek2019, so please make sure to follow and/or remember the tag in order for everybody to enjoy each other’s works.
Spent all day at work and forgot that it was Saturday oops.
Title: Sick as a Dog
Fandom: Tales of Vesperia
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1888
In Responds to: Fluri Week 2019: Sick Saturday
Characters: Yuri, Flynn, Repede
Summary: Pre-game. Few things can resolve a rocky relationship like sick family.
"Repede, c'mon," Yuri's knees were aching from how long he'd been crouched on the wooden floor, back aching just as much from peering under the bed almost as long. "You need to at least drink."
The dark lump under the bed made a noise that sounded surprisingly like a refusal while also sounding rather pitiful. Yuri growled and sat up so he could bang his head and a fist on his mattress. "Come on, Repede," he gritted out, worry fraying his patience to mere threads, "get out of there!" He'd tried to pull Repede out earlier but the dog had whined and snapped at him, struggling enough Yuri had let go, not wanting to risk hurting him in his already weakened state.
As Yuri was contemplating the effort it would take to move his mattress and flip the bedframe on its side to get at Repede, there was a knock on the door. Both grateful and annoyed at the distraction, Yuri yanked open his door with a barely contained snarled, "What?"
Standing on the other side was Flynn, carrying two bowls on a tray. "I was told Repede is sick. And that I'm supposed to make you eat." When Yuri made no move to do more than stare blankly at him, Flynn pushed the tray into Yuri's abdomen, causing him to take it reflexively. He stepped inside the room, "Where is he?"
Yuri looked down at the tray, recognizing it and the worn bowls as coming from the Comet's kitchen. One was a stew, chunks of potato and carrot floating in a dark tomato and wine-based sauce, the other a clear yellow stock that smelled like chicken. The scent of both made Yuri's stomach grumble. He set the tray aside hastily, some of the stock sloshing over the side. He closed the door and rounded on Flynn who was now crouched in almost the exact same position Yuri had been moments earlier.
Flynn's hair was matted down though the ends curled slightly. It seemed he'd been in the misting rain long enough for it to actually soak in, droplets hanging from his chin and armor, the half-cape sticking against his back. Must have just gotten in from a patrol, though where on the palace grounds he'd be patrolling that would get mud tracking up his greaves, Yuri hadn't a clue.
Yuri felt ridiculously self-conscious, even with Flynn in a more disheveled state than he. Keeping out of Flynn's sight, Yuri ran hands through his hair, trying to tame the flyaways and tangles he'd put in there earlier and surreptitiously dust off his clothes from laying on the floor he hadn't cleaned in who knew how long. Figuring he was as put-together as he'd ever get in this situation, Yuri asked in his most nonchalant tone, "Why are you here, exactly?"
Flynn barely gave him a glance. "I care about Repede as much as you do." He pulled off his gauntlets, holding a hand under the bed while making as soft clicking noise.
"You've been slacking on the child support."
"Really? You want to have an argument about this right now?" There was movement under the bed and Yuri tilted his head slightly to one side. Repede had his face pressed against Flynn's scratching fingers. Traitor. "Have you had anyone look at him?"
"With what money?"
"Do you even know what's wrong with him?" Flynn asked, a bite of irritation in his words at Yuri's flippancy.
Yuri's own mouth twisted as he said, "He'd been eating onions."
Flynn sat upright, expression accusatory. "You know onions are dangerous for dogs!"
"Yeah, I do," he snapped back, "Ted and his friends were sneaking parts of their lunches to him behind my back. I'm not a complete idiot, Flynn." After the uneasy truce that settled between them in the last year, Yuri had expected to feel insulted at the accusation. He hadn't expected it to still hurt so sharply, though.
Flynn looked contrite about it, at least. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have accused you of being so irresponsible." He reached back out to stroke Repede's head. "That explains why Ted had been so adamant that I come here, at least."
"Mm." Yuri would probably have to apologize to the kids at some point. He hadn't meant to snap at them as harshly as he had when he realized they'd been accidentally poisoning Repede but seeing his dog weak and shaking and throwing up had rattled Yuri considerably. For an entire night he had thought Repede might die and even now, with the worst of it passed, Yuri still couldn't help the fear that Repede would never get better.
Flynn reached out with both hands, cupping Repede's jaw between them. Then Flynn closed his eyes, a line of concentration forming on his brow, and his hands began to glow a pale green. Repede's ear flickered, making a soft noise of confusion while Yuri stood there, shocked. He watched as the light deepened, struggling to form a glyph before the magic dissipated and Flynn let out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry, Repede," he stroked the dog's head, Repede's tail thumped weakly, "I still haven't gotten the hang of it."
Yuri sat down, back against bed. "Was that a healing spell?"
"An attempt." Flynn stood to grab the bowl of stock. "It's been slow going. Magic is tough to wrap my head around."
Something tightened in Yuri's chest. Only officers were taught magic and even though he knew that was the track Flynn would have to take to fulfill their- his -dream, Flynn had managed to cross that huge gulf between ranks without Yuri realizing it.
What else had he missed since he left the knights? What had Flynn accomplished that he hadn't thought was worth telling Yuri because he was too humble to mention them? Because he was too busy to talk with Yuri that often? Because he didn't want to seem a braggart while Yuri was stagnant? Because their relationship was on the rocks?
"Here, Repede," Flynn said softly, setting the bowl down. "You need to keep hydrated." When the dog made no move to get up and drink, Flynn dipped two fingers in the bowl, letting them soak for a couple seconds before holding them out to Repede.
Yuri held his breath- Repede seemed so fragile these last two days, unable to bring himself to eat and rarely drank -as Repede sniffed at Flynn's fingers. Then gave them a tentative lick. Then again, until every last trace of the stock had gone. "Come on," Flynn said softly, pushing the bowl a little closer. "Have some more." Repede crawled to the bowl, lapping it up slowly. Yuri let his breath out, simultaneously relieved and hurt.
"He always listens to you," he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "Don't know why he came with me." What did Yuri offer him? Freedom to do what he wanted, sure, but it was always one aimless, struggling day after another. With Flynn, Repede would have a purpose, better care, better food. A better life.
"Did it ever occur to you that Repede listens to me at times like these because I baby him when he's hurt?"
Yuri looked at Flynn in surprise. "What?"
Flynn returned that look with one that had a teasing gleam to it. "Sometimes, when you're not feeling well, affection helps you feel better."
"I know that." It wasn't as if Yuri wasn't the same, memories rising up of pressing his face into Flynn's chest as if his best friend's arms would protect him from feverish misery. Of still pretending to be feeling unwell just so he had excuse to curl with Flynn for a little longer.
"You're not exactly an affectionate person, Yuri."
"I can be," he said a tad defensively.
"Not easily. You act like being open and straightforward with your emotions gives you a rash."
"You don't know that it doesn't," Yuri said mostly so he'd have the last word. Flynn rolled his eyes and let him have it. Repede, having had his fill of the stock, crawled out further and pressed his face into Flynn's lap. Flynn made soothing sounds, running his fingers through Repede's fur. Yuri's victory felt pretty hollow in comparison to that.
They sat in silence for a few moments, Yuri not wanting to disturb the scene. He almost felt like an intruder in his own room, watching the comfort and connection between the two as if he'd never been part of it himself. Then Flynn gently shifted Repede's head away, wincing slightly as he moved to mirror Yuri's position against the bed, leaning forward to pull off his greaves, and pauldrons and half-cape. When he settled back, Repede moved around, pressing his body down the side of Flynn's leg, resting his head back on Flynn's lap. Yuri watched as Repede's eyes blinked slowly, barely opening each time as he verged onto sleep.
"Did you ever think it a possibility," Flynn said softly, startling Yuri out of his trance, "that Repede is difficult with you when he's sick because he doesn't want to disappoint you?"
Yuri's brow furrowed. "What do you mean disappoint me?"
"By being a burden."
"He's not like that with you."
"I'm not his partner."
He rocked back slightly because, when Flynn put it like that, it made sense. There'd been many a time in their past that Yuri would downplay an injury or hold in his emotions to keep Flynn from worrying, from thinking of Yuri as weak or pitiable or burdening Flynn with his own issues. And he knew Flynn had done that to him and it would drive the both of them mad whenever they caught the other doing it but they always did. Because Yuri never wanted Flynn to think badly of him.
But could a dog understand such abstract concepts?
Repede whined, moving his head to stuff his snout between Flynn's arm and side, as if to hide his face.
Repede was a smart dog, seemed to understand what Yuri was saying or feeling. And even if he didn't... Yuri couldn't let what Flynn said go so easily. He slid over, arm brushing against Flynn's and Flynn moved his away so Repede couldn't hide behind it.
"Hey," Yuri said in the gentlest voice he had, "I'm not going to be disappointed in you. I'll never be disappointed in you." He ran a hand over the length of Repede's head. "No matter how sick or injured you get, you'll still be my partner and I'll always have your back."
Repede made a soft sound but he laid his head onto Yuri's lap, shifting his body to nuzzle tight into the space between both men. His eyes closed but his tail still wagged periodically, weakly. When Yuri looked up, Flynn was looking at him with a soft expression that Yuri didn't know how to respond to. The best he could do was lean in until they were pressed shoulder to shoulder, all while ignoring the heat threatening to creep over his cheeks. Sometime, after Repede's tail slowed to a halt and the only sound was a soft noise as he exhaled, Flynn shifted until he could rest his head on Yuri's shoulder. And Yuri, wanting this moment to last a little longer, pressed his cheek to Flynn's hair.
Fluri Week 2019 - Thrill Tuesday AND Thirsty Thursday
Title: Aperitif
Description: That’s right a c-c-c-combo prompt! And it’s NSFW! My on going Blue Plate Special AU, taking place after Soup of the Day. Flynn gets a visit from someone he didn’t expect to see again.
Warnings: NSFW, Role play, light bondage, minor orgasm denial?
It happened more frequently than he would have liked, but he tried not to hold a grudge against Yuri for it all the same. It was already occasionally a point of contention between them. At a moment's notice, a date would be cut short, or sometimes canceled completely for Yuri's work. Well, calling it his work was a little misplaced. If anything, the work Yuri did at night was a departure from the running of the cafe during the day. His night work was something entirely different. After all, with the city of Zaphias crawling with more than its fair share of super villains, Yuri as his alter ego True Knight had his work cut out for him.
They had argued about it before, so even as this particular evening was cut short, Flynn knew there was no point. Yuri was going to do what he felt that he had to do.
Alone, with evening plans canceled, he drifted from one task to another. The dishes were washed, dried and put away. A movie buzzed in the background while he kept himself busy, although as the night grew on, there was really no point. He would have been better off simply going to bed. At the same time, though, he wanted to wait up for the message that let him know that everything on Yuri's end turned out okay, and that Flynn, as a police officer, would probably be dealing with the aftermath of paperwork in the morning. But tonight's message was long coming. It felt like the hours crawled. And so he paced until he heard the telltale sound of one of the windows in the living room being opened.
Flynn walked to meet him, but found himself stunned by the silhouette that was there, a silhouette that was not quite right.
Standing there, clad in waves of black feathers, with the glisten of satin clinging to his form, Yuri seemed to dominate the fire escape, casting a long black shadow into Flynn's apartment.
“What are you doing, Yuri?”
It wasn't that he didn't recognize the costume. It would have been impossible.
“I've found you out then, White Knight.” The smirk that stretched beneath the mask that Yuri wore stopped him cold. He stepped in, as gracefully as one could through a fire escape window, and turned, pressing Flynn against the wall in a smooth motion.
“Y-Yuri?” His voice stuttered, half fear, half excitement.
Havoc's pale hand cupped his face, and the kiss that came next was biting fury, so intense that Flynn felt his knees weaken. Their lips parted, and Flynn was left panting. But Yuri's teasing was no where near done.
“I've got you all alone now. No True Knight around to protect you. What sort of fun should I have with you?” The playful twinkle in Yuri's eyes was clear. Flynn could play at this game as well.
“It doesn't matter. I'll never give into you.”
“Never?” the hum of Yuri's voice made him shiver. The cat and mouse game they played was an exciting change of pace, and he found himself falling into the rhythm easily.
“Never.”
“Well, we'll have to see about that.”
With a lithe motion, Yuri pinned his hands above his head and leaned in, hot breath lingering on Flynn's neck.
“Even when I've got you like this?”
“This is nothing.”
The brush of Yuri's knee up between his legs told them both otherwise. Flynn inhaled sharply, but the sound ended as a moan as Yuri bit down on his neck, teeth in soft flesh. This little bit of role playing and he was already a mess.
“Still nothing?” He could hear the laughter in Yuri's voice, poorly masked beneath the affected tone he took for the role of the villain. “This certainly doesn't seem like nothing.”
He couldn't hold back the growl in his throat or the groans on his lips as Yuri continued, pressing closer, his teeth marking neck and throat and collarbone and chest. The pressure of Yuri against him was unbearably hot even for the little bit of contact between their bodies. He was already shivering with anticipation. But Yuri only, maddeningly, continued, the slightest press of his hips against Flynn's firing off sparks in his brain. The build was gradual, an unusual show of restraint from Yuri, always bright passion and hurriedness. Havoc was slower, methodical, and something about that only made Flynn want to rush forward. Burning blood pooled at the base of his spine and sweat beaded on his brow, and yet beneath the mask, Yuri seemed so cool, calm but intensely aware of what he was doing to Flynn. He seemed to relish that. Now that he was the one of the receiving end of the teasing, he knew just how frustrating it was.
Yuri's name came out from between his gritted teeth, and he stopped mid motion, pulling back and away from Flynn just when he thought he couldn't handle any more. It was almost a relief, although he was still a mess all the same, incomplete, hard, and shaking. But Yuri wasn't nearly done with him, and he knew it.
With a yank, Yuri tore open his shirt, sending buttons scattering across the room. A quick twist and Flynn's hands were bound to a curtain rod above his head.
“I'll make you beg.”
Yuri's smoky voice and bright eyes teased him as he dropped to his knees. How much longer before Flynn really was going to be begging? He was on the precipice all ready, but he knew that no amount of words was going to be the stopping point for Yuri. Not until his game was done. Although his brain was clouded with the pleasure and the need for release, he was enjoying the game just as much.
Fingertips danced over the buckle of his belt, not quite touching him even as he leaned into try the feel the slightest brush. The button next. One tooth at a time, the zipper next. And all he could do was stare down into Yuri's masked face and see that insufferable smirk. Finally, Yuri freed him from the uncomfortable tightness of his clothing and the rush of chilled air made him shiver. Mercifully, Yuri didn't leave him long. The warmth of his mouth drove off the cold and brought another wave of pleasure crashing against his brain.
With tongue and teeth and small, maddening motions, Yuri pushed against him, the bob of his head slow and teasing. Flynn stretched and strained, panting as Yuri dug his fingers into his hips, pulled and pressed down, digging circles into the flesh of his inner thighs. In a clearer moment, he would have been annoyed, but the building just beneath his skin was too distracting to think, too overwhelming to bear. He wanted all of Yuri in that moment, every last inch of him, to tease and taunt him the way he was being treated right now, to draw every little moan and breath out of him until he was just a quivering mess. He wanted to hold Yuri, to run his fingers through his hair, and grab and tug and lead him even the slightest bit, but his bound hands only heightened the sense of Yuri's chaotic control. He tensed, aching for release. The moment as right there. He could almost taste it. He wanted to beg.
The suddenness which pulled Yuri away brought him a moment of starting clarity, but no relief. Flynn sagged, feeling the curtain rod above him bend.
“Don't tell me you're close already.” Yuri looked up at him, chin resting on his abdomen. His hands were so tantalizingly close, making long strokes down the front of Flynn's thighs. “I'm not nearly done with you yet.”
He head was nearly too muddled with pleasure to play along. But he tried between the hitches of breath in his throat. “You haven't gotten the best of me yet.”
“I love a challenge.” His fingers traced a feather path down the length of his cock and Flynn thought that would be the end of him. But Yuri knew just how to push his boundaries and when to stop.
With ease, Yuri loosened him from the wall, but his hands bound in the twist of fabric. Flynn didn't fight. As infuriating as the teasing was, the excitement of the moment had him just as invested. He let himself be led into the bedroom, and tossed onto the bed, putting up only the barest of a faux struggle when Yuri straddled him, and fastened the bonds to the headboard of the bed.
Yuri's teasing didn't end there. In the moment that they moved, Flynn had been able to pull back from the edge of orgasm, but he knew that wouldn't last. Not with the only thing separating them now that flimsy costume which did nothing to hide how eager Yuri's body was for the climax as well. Even if he hadn't been able to see it, he would have felt it when Yuri ground their hips together again, the friction of skin beneath smooth fabric making his eyes roll back in his head. He wanted more. So much more. And Yuri was only happy to oblige.
A swift motion send the body suit of Yuri's costume to the floor, although he kept the mask and feathered cloak, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. He reached over Flynn, their bodies barely touching as he dug through the nightstand drawer to produce a bottle of oil. He dribbled its contents onto his hand, and canted his hips up. Slick fingers delved into flesh, and the barest moan escaped Yuri's lips as he readied himself. If nothing else had brought Flynn to this moment, that sight of Yuri in only the feathers and the mask and the soft noises from his mouth would have been enough. Under the edge of the mask, he could almost see the faintest flush of Yuri's face.
“Do you want me?” he asked, voice thick with pleasure, still displaying himself for Flynn to see.
“Y-Yes.”
“That's what I thought.”
Every nerve ending in his body was on fire as Yuri took his cock in hand, slick fingers drawing a moan out of him. Yuri didn't tease too much longer before settling on him, letting out a long, low groan of his own. There were no more words, only heavy, moaning breaths as Yuri moved himself in a rhythmic up and down, his fingernails raking down Flynn's abdomen. It was slow at first, his motions bearing a touch of the teasing that painted the evening. It wasn't long before that dissolved and his paced quickened, hips bobbing erratically as Yuri's own interest in keep up the game was being washed away by pleasure. Flynn arched to meet him and were there bodies met, sparks burst in his brain. Finally it was too much, his senses too overwhelmed to hold back any longer, and he climaxed. Yuri followed seconds later, riding him to his last.
They slumped into the covers of the bed together, both panting, nearly shaking. Yuri fumbled to untie him, a hoarse chuckle in his throat. Flynn wasn't sure what was so funny, but smiled for it all the same for the humor in the air between them. When his hands were finally free, he found the control he had set aside for the surprise role play and pulled Yuri back to him. A dizzying flurry of kisses passed between them as they both calmed and then they were still.
“Have fun playing the villain again?” Flynn said when he managed to get his voice back. With a tug, he pulled Yuri's mask free of his face, and tossed it aside.
“The fun part was watching you squirm.”
“Havoc had me on the ropes there for a bit.”
“Does that mean you'd be up for another visit from our local super villain?” Yuri waggled his eye brows.
“Any time,” Flynn chuckled.
Both of them completely worn out, they let sleep claim them. When Flynn woke in the morning, any trace of 'Havoc's' presence was gone as he expected it would be. The villain would return, and he certainly hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
