yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-07-25 02:51 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-07-25 02:51 am
Entry tags:
142;
Title: Injuries
Characters: Yuri, Flynn
Rating: PG
Set during The First Strike.
Shizotania, as Yuri finds out, gets pretty hot in the summer. As a recruit, he can't slack off and go swimming to cool down, and he can't lounge in the shade and feel the breeze.
So he takes up whatever patrol he can find, offers his help, and sleeps in the cool day then, pretending to be searching another area.
This backfires when Flynn finds him one night, (over)sleeping against a tree. He wakes up to a rough kick to the side, and his friend's voice.
“Wake up, Yuri.”
“...hn?”
He opens his eyes and bam, Flynn's right there, sitting in front of him with a lantern in his hands. So Yuri offers a smile and gets a stern look in return, along with the company of his dearest friend beside him. The lantern goes between them, and Yuri groans.
“I lost track of time while I was resting my eyes.”
“I know what you do out here, Yuri. You're just lucky no monsters have decided you look tasty sitting here alone, and I for one think you should --”
“Did you think I looked tasty?”
“-- what?”
“When you came up.”
The dumbfounded look on Flynn's face is so ridiculous that Yuri can't help himself and laughs, closing his eyes and holding his sides until he's out of breath and pressed against the tree by a flushed, embarrassed Flynn with a knife.
“No, but I did think you looked pretty stupid.”
Easy, easy. Yuri smiles and leans his forehead against Flynn's, breaths mingling. His voice takes on a softer, huskier tone.
“If you didn't think I was tasty looking, then nothing else will. Don't worry so much about me, alright?”
Flynn licks his lips and opens his mouth to protest when Yuri kisses him, slow and experimental. He tears away and stares at Yuri, touches his fingers to his lips and feels himself warm up again. Yuri purses his lips, shrugs, and uses the rough bark to help himself stand up. He doesn't expect to be pushed back against that rough surface (again), lips crashing against his own and hands planted on either side of his face. He doesn't expect teeth to clip at his bottom lip or a tongue to press its way in, exploring and rubbing over teeth. He does expect the grossed out look Flynn gets though, and Flynn breaks the kiss to spit at the ground.
“When was the last time you brushed your teeth, Yuri?”
“A week ago?”
“That's disgusting!”
“What? It isn't that bad.”
“I swear, Yuri, sometimes I wish you were more responsible.”
“Responsible, hm? I'll take responsibility.”
Yuri kisses Flynn again, pushing off the tree and steadying him with arms around his neck, fingers netting themselves in the golden hair. It's back to that slow, teasing feeling, not the hurried, angry one of before. Flynn almost thinks that it's nice, except Yuri's tongue begins a siege on his lips and breaks through to invade, running it along his teeth and humming in satisfaction. It shouldn't be so hard to make out what Yuri says, but it is, so Yuri leans away and smiles.
“Mm, Flynn. Minty.”
“If you brushed your teeth, I'd say the same thing.”
“Picky picky.”
Yuri's mouth is back on his before he has a chance to reply, and Flynn pulls them back down to sitting, shoving Yuri tighter against the tree and knocking the lantern over, fingers tangling themselves with the dark hair and the bark. Lips travel and press lower, down his throat and teeth pull at his uniform, opening it and continuing their trek, slipping down collarbones and shoulder blades. Yuri makes something that sounds like a word, but it's heavily contorted by air and strangled moans. Even in the dead of night, they can't be too careful.
Yuri sees the eggbear before Flynn does; he shoves him off and draws his sword, going at it with the sick grin Flynn knows so well. Flynn can't just stand around, so he draws his own sword and follows. It's a dance marred by bloodshed – not all their enemy's – and when the eggbear collapses the two of them do as well, against opposite trees. Yuri's grin holds back a pint of pain, and Flynn doesn't feel much better, but his priority lies on other things.
“Let me see your wounds, Yuri.”
“What, wounds? Me? I don't have any. You look like you got a pretty neat gash on your side though--”
“I'll take care of it. Come here.”
Yuri steps over, stretching and showing that he isn't hurt in the slightest. Flynn's not impressed; he strips Yuri to the waist himself and checks his top half carefully, fingers ghosting over skin and lips pressing briefly over scratches and bruises. Flynn makes a vexed sound at a larger one but tears the sleeve of his shirt and bandages it up, then lets his eyes wander the sight before him in another quick check. Yuri's sly grin makes him pause though.
“Like what you see?”
“What?”
“You seem to be admiring me pretty heavily there, Flynn.”
“I'm checking for any more injuries, asshole.”
“If you say so.”
Flynn checks him over again, then kisses him and stands up. Yuri blinks, rubs his back (sore and scraped from the tree), and slings his cloths over a shoulder along with his sword.
“We better get back to Shizotania. They're probably missing us.”
“Missing you, you mean. I bet the Captain's plenty glad to have someone like me gone.”
“He likes you, Yuri. Hisca's gonna be worried. Let's go.”
“Fine, fine, fine. But only cause I like you, Flynn.”
“--Eh?”
“Hurry up!”
Characters: Yuri, Flynn
Rating: PG
Set during The First Strike.
Shizotania, as Yuri finds out, gets pretty hot in the summer. As a recruit, he can't slack off and go swimming to cool down, and he can't lounge in the shade and feel the breeze.
So he takes up whatever patrol he can find, offers his help, and sleeps in the cool day then, pretending to be searching another area.
This backfires when Flynn finds him one night, (over)sleeping against a tree. He wakes up to a rough kick to the side, and his friend's voice.
“Wake up, Yuri.”
“...hn?”
He opens his eyes and bam, Flynn's right there, sitting in front of him with a lantern in his hands. So Yuri offers a smile and gets a stern look in return, along with the company of his dearest friend beside him. The lantern goes between them, and Yuri groans.
“I lost track of time while I was resting my eyes.”
“I know what you do out here, Yuri. You're just lucky no monsters have decided you look tasty sitting here alone, and I for one think you should --”
“Did you think I looked tasty?”
“-- what?”
“When you came up.”
The dumbfounded look on Flynn's face is so ridiculous that Yuri can't help himself and laughs, closing his eyes and holding his sides until he's out of breath and pressed against the tree by a flushed, embarrassed Flynn with a knife.
“No, but I did think you looked pretty stupid.”
Easy, easy. Yuri smiles and leans his forehead against Flynn's, breaths mingling. His voice takes on a softer, huskier tone.
“If you didn't think I was tasty looking, then nothing else will. Don't worry so much about me, alright?”
Flynn licks his lips and opens his mouth to protest when Yuri kisses him, slow and experimental. He tears away and stares at Yuri, touches his fingers to his lips and feels himself warm up again. Yuri purses his lips, shrugs, and uses the rough bark to help himself stand up. He doesn't expect to be pushed back against that rough surface (again), lips crashing against his own and hands planted on either side of his face. He doesn't expect teeth to clip at his bottom lip or a tongue to press its way in, exploring and rubbing over teeth. He does expect the grossed out look Flynn gets though, and Flynn breaks the kiss to spit at the ground.
“When was the last time you brushed your teeth, Yuri?”
“A week ago?”
“That's disgusting!”
“What? It isn't that bad.”
“I swear, Yuri, sometimes I wish you were more responsible.”
“Responsible, hm? I'll take responsibility.”
Yuri kisses Flynn again, pushing off the tree and steadying him with arms around his neck, fingers netting themselves in the golden hair. It's back to that slow, teasing feeling, not the hurried, angry one of before. Flynn almost thinks that it's nice, except Yuri's tongue begins a siege on his lips and breaks through to invade, running it along his teeth and humming in satisfaction. It shouldn't be so hard to make out what Yuri says, but it is, so Yuri leans away and smiles.
“Mm, Flynn. Minty.”
“If you brushed your teeth, I'd say the same thing.”
“Picky picky.”
Yuri's mouth is back on his before he has a chance to reply, and Flynn pulls them back down to sitting, shoving Yuri tighter against the tree and knocking the lantern over, fingers tangling themselves with the dark hair and the bark. Lips travel and press lower, down his throat and teeth pull at his uniform, opening it and continuing their trek, slipping down collarbones and shoulder blades. Yuri makes something that sounds like a word, but it's heavily contorted by air and strangled moans. Even in the dead of night, they can't be too careful.
Yuri sees the eggbear before Flynn does; he shoves him off and draws his sword, going at it with the sick grin Flynn knows so well. Flynn can't just stand around, so he draws his own sword and follows. It's a dance marred by bloodshed – not all their enemy's – and when the eggbear collapses the two of them do as well, against opposite trees. Yuri's grin holds back a pint of pain, and Flynn doesn't feel much better, but his priority lies on other things.
“Let me see your wounds, Yuri.”
“What, wounds? Me? I don't have any. You look like you got a pretty neat gash on your side though--”
“I'll take care of it. Come here.”
Yuri steps over, stretching and showing that he isn't hurt in the slightest. Flynn's not impressed; he strips Yuri to the waist himself and checks his top half carefully, fingers ghosting over skin and lips pressing briefly over scratches and bruises. Flynn makes a vexed sound at a larger one but tears the sleeve of his shirt and bandages it up, then lets his eyes wander the sight before him in another quick check. Yuri's sly grin makes him pause though.
“Like what you see?”
“What?”
“You seem to be admiring me pretty heavily there, Flynn.”
“I'm checking for any more injuries, asshole.”
“If you say so.”
Flynn checks him over again, then kisses him and stands up. Yuri blinks, rubs his back (sore and scraped from the tree), and slings his cloths over a shoulder along with his sword.
“We better get back to Shizotania. They're probably missing us.”
“Missing you, you mean. I bet the Captain's plenty glad to have someone like me gone.”
“He likes you, Yuri. Hisca's gonna be worried. Let's go.”
“Fine, fine, fine. But only cause I like you, Flynn.”
“--Eh?”
“Hurry up!”