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Written for a prompt at areyougame. A little late though, this was due for yesterday.
The prompt was Flynn, if only it were so easy.


Yuri: Idealistic, sarcastic and gorgeous, he's Flynn's oldest friend. He's also currently resting on Flynn's bed as if he has all the right in the world to be there. Flynn stops in the doorway, his heart in his throat. The room is dim though, and Yuri looks preoccupied enough that he's no need to worry about being noticed just yet, though he still tenses.
Yuri's naked on the bed, pale skin startling in the darkness of Flynn's room. They've shared a room long enough that Flynn has seen Yuri in many states of undress. Though that doesn't exactly explain why Flynn's suddenly finding it a lot harder to breathe.


On the bed Yuri's head is tilted back, exposing the line of his throat to the moonlight. As Flynn hesitates, eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light, he realises exactly what Yuri's doing. Yuri shifts slightly, making the bedclothes rustle, then Flynn watches wide-eyed as Yuri starts to touch himself. Soft strokes at first, slender fingers brushing over erect nipples then curling around his cock.


Flynn's first instinct is to leave; the scene in front of him is too intimate, something he shouldn't be witness to. It would be much easier, Flynn thinks, to leave now, to take himself away from everything he's never allowed himself to want. Though a soft moan from the direction of the bed catches his attention. Flynn hesitates; Yuri's still clearly unaware of his audience, and Flynn doesn't want to leave just yet. It can't hurt to watch, just for a moment.


Yuri's beautiful like this, eyes half closed and lost in his own pleasure. Flynn has given in pretending, to himself at least, and settled back against the doorframe to watch the scene in front of him. Yuri's strokes are faster now, his eyes almost fully closed and his lips parted slightly. He looks wanton, and Flynn has never wished so hard that things could be different, never wanted so much to do something he shouldn't.


But Flynn has heard the rumours the knights pass around, rumours of men with Captain Cumore's preferences and he's seen, enough to understand just how well something like that is welcomed (or not ) within an organisation like the Imperial Knights. Cumore himself is lucky, he's risen through the ranks to a point where his preferences are no longer an issue, Flynn has known many others less fortunate who have fallen by the wayside. A career in the Imperial Knights has been his dream for so long he's become almost immune to what he has to sacrifice to achieve that. He'd not previously allowed himself to consider that one of those might be Yuri.


A moan from Yuri draws his attention back to the bed. Yuri's close to his climax now, flushed and tense, and Flynn wants to step forward, to join Yuri on the bed, and ...what? Offer to help? Claim Yuri for his own perhaps, but it's not so easy. Even if Flynn could risk a career with the knights before it starts, he's no guarantee that Yuri would want any part of this.


As Flynn watches he presses the heel of his hand to his pants. The light pressure is simultaneously too much and really not enough, but as he watches Yuri writhe and gasp on the bed it's everything. Suddenly it's all he can do to keep himself quiet in the shadows of the doorway, as his mind superimposes images onto the scene in front of him. Yuri on the bed, beneath him, soft and willing in the quiet of their room. Everything he's wanted but denied himself. He pictures Yuri, arching into him, heat and pleasure between them. The images come easily, fueled by Yuri's presence only metres away, and it takes Flynn several seconds to calm down enough to realise he's not being quite as quiet as he'd thought.


Oh.


On the bed Yuri's eyes fly open, meeting Flynn's shell shocked expression directly. It must be wishful thinking, but Flynn is sure he sees an invitation. He bites his lip against the desire to say something in response- yes or no , either would be a bad idea. Then Yuri arches off the bed and moans, and it's Flynn's name on his lips. Suddenly it's no longer an invitation Flynn sees, but an order. One he doesn't have the willpower left to refuse.
Yuri grins at him, pupils blown wide and Flynn smiles wryly back, as he steps forward, out of the shadows of the door to jeopardise every single plan for the future he has made.

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May 2014

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