[ Flynn says it without thinking, his voice finally steady. He hesitates, and then shifts closer, pine needles prickling through his pants. He ignores them, pressing close enough that his knees nudge into Yuri's, that he is firmly in Yuri's space. He wants to be closer. He wants to— he wants to push himself into Yuri's arms like they did when they were kids, wants to shove his nose into Yuri's hair like they did earlier, lean on him, but he's done that enough.
This is as close as he gets. Every cell in his body tells him to get closer but Flynn sits and meets Yuri's eyes and holds up his forearm. The silence stretches, and Flynn's heart is in his throat, and he wants—
he wants—
But he just swallows and says, unsteadier, ] If we're both working on it, then...
[ Fuck, fuck, fuck he's close. He's close and Yuri can't breathe, he can't think, his body wants to move in toward him, to touch him, to press his lips to Flynn's again, but he can't move. He stares up at Flynn, and it takes him a long moment to comprehend what Flynn is trying to do. But then he gets it, and he pushes himself up to his own knees. Their bodies are nearly flush, and Yuri touches his forearm to Flynn's, in the sign they've used since they were eight and their hands were a mess from helping out with cleaning and had high-fived with their arms instead.
Something curls in him, hooking in his gut, and he meets Flynn's eyes and he feels sure, certain, that this is right. ]
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[ Flynn says it without thinking, his voice finally steady. He hesitates, and then shifts closer, pine needles prickling through his pants. He ignores them, pressing close enough that his knees nudge into Yuri's, that he is firmly in Yuri's space. He wants to be closer. He wants to— he wants to push himself into Yuri's arms like they did when they were kids, wants to shove his nose into Yuri's hair like they did earlier, lean on him, but he's done that enough.
This is as close as he gets. Every cell in his body tells him to get closer but Flynn sits and meets Yuri's eyes and holds up his forearm. The silence stretches, and Flynn's heart is in his throat, and he wants—
he wants—
But he just swallows and says, unsteadier, ] If we're both working on it, then...
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Something curls in him, hooking in his gut, and he meets Flynn's eyes and he feels sure, certain, that this is right. ]
Then we're gonna figure it out.