[ It feels like a peace offering, which might be exactly what it is. Yuri wouldn't be happy, exactly, to pretend like they aren't friends again. They had enough practice with that back home, Flynn stiffly nodding to him when he was on patrol, Yuri coming up to his room once, twice, to check on him, only to be met with a frazzled Flynn with too much to do, too tired to do more than talk about his day.
He likes the pictures, he likes that Flynn is trying, that having sex that one time, not really by either of their own volition, didn't change things irrevocably, except in Yuri's mind. If Flynn can be normal, Yuri can be normal, too.
To the first picture, he returns one of his own, a cake that he made at the tea shop with a little dog face on it.
To the second, he comes down to sit with Flynn, quiet as the sun sets.
To the latest one, he can't help a laugh ]
want me to break the backs off your chairs? could be a big business chairs for wings
[ Flynn tugs with his wing one more time before huffing and collapsing back against the chair, still neatly stuck in it. The free chairs from the market with the spindle-backs really were a mistake.... but they're so nice. ]
We shouldn't break them, but maybe I should give up on them and we could attempt to find new ones? Once I free myself.
The thing over my head. Hold on
[ Another picture, this one blurry and even harder to read: the top half of Flynn's face, his eyes angled up, and a bright glowing light blowing out the entire top half of the picture. ]
It's definitely not a light. It still glows even when the lights are off. I'd show you but I am actually stuck in this chair. It's circular, and floating over my head.
[ thats more fodder to his "legends are angels" theory. at least he's on his way now, heading toward Flynn's house at the clip he can only do as a panther ]
[ He doesn't answer this time, heading to Flynn's place. He has a smear of flour on his black muzzle when he streaks into Flynn's little lawn and up to his door. But, well. Panthers can't really open doors, so he's back in his human form to turn the knob, only to see Flynn right there, in the front room, with his wings tangled in that chair. He snorts a laugh, leaning back against the door frame ]
[ Flynn looks up, unhappy and a little huffy, though it's hard to hide the little flutter of feeling in his belly just seeing Yuri leaning there, casual as anything. He's... excited to see his friend.
Surely that's the reason for looking over Yuri like it's been a week since he saw him instead of two days. Surely that's the reason for noticing the flour in his hair and the tilt of his smile.
His wings droop a bit more. This is pretty uncomfortable, actually. ]
I don't... entirely know? I was eating breakfast and working on a few of the study questions about it, and when I tried to get up...
[ He arches his back, lifting himself as high off the chair as he can go to show exactly how entangled both his wings are, and flops back down with a huff. ]
The problem is mostly that it hurts quite a bit trying to get them free. Apparently they're delicate.
[ He laughs and pushes himself off the wall to come over and inspect the damage. Except he's distracted for a second by the shine above Flynn's head. His halo is much clearer in person than it was in pictures. He really does look like an angel: the white wings, the shining halo, the blonde hair, a paragon of goodness, that's what Flynn is.
He falters for a step, feeling... worse. Inferior. Terrible for feeling all the things he's been feeling about Flynn. He can't feel them, he can't act on it, not when Flynn is so good, not when he needs to help Flynn become everything he can be.
He apologized. That was making amends for the lightning. He needs to put it to bed. ]
It is bright. [ Is all he manages to say, before he turns his attention to the wings, inspecting the damage. They're threaded through the back of the chair, and shouldn't be too hard to fix. ] Uh, hold on. You mind if I touch them?
[ It really is a problem how aware of Yuri he is. Flynn's been trying to ignore it, trying not to feel the prickle of heat or the narrowing of focus whenever Yuri gets near, but he's been doing a terrible job. On the dock by the lake the other day he hadn't been able to think about anything but the ruffle of Yuri's hair in the breeze or the fact that if he just scooted a little closer their shoulders would be touching. That fact had felt so heavy, so important. It carried a gravity of its own, dragging Flynn's attention back to it again and again.
He'd blinked and the sunset had been over, and Yuri had still been there at his side in the cooling night, listening to the calls of strange birds over the water with his ears perked.
That same awareness creeps over him now:
Yuri is so close, he thinks, and then wonders why the thought is so important even as Yuri shifts closer still. He stares up at him for a long moment, caught in the lines of his face thrown into relief by the light over his own head, and looks away just as Yuri looks down at his face with his heart in his throat. Tension vibrates through him. ]
Not at all. Just be careful of the joints, I think.
[ And then, because that came out a little breathless and strange: ]
[ His body feels hot, with all of Flynn's attention on him. He doesn't know what it means, doesn't know why Flynn would be staring at him like that. He pushes his own hair back, smudging the flour further onto his cheek, and clears his throat, shifting behind Flynn to carefully try and pull the chair out from the tangle of wings ]
Get up, just a little, I'll try to-- [ The features are soft and so, so alive under his hands and he tries not to think about the fact that they're a part of Flynn, as much as his hands or his arms, new appendages that this place has given him.
It's easy once Flynn gets up, and Yuri carefully pulls the chair out, feeding his wings through the middle, avoiding the little curves of wood in the middle of the chair. ] There you go. Yeah, man, save those chairs for people without wings.
They're new, so the bar is low, but Flynn wasn't expecting the shiver of feeling, the absolute narrowing of his awareness down to Yuri's long fingers delicate in his feathers, pressing gently, folding and pushing down so the long bones slip through the back of the chairâ
He shivers, involuntary, goosebumps racing along his skin. Yuri is saying something, he should-he should look up, do something, say something.
"without wings," he catches, and looks up at Yuri with words caught on his lips and his eyes wide, his wings flexing out to the sides. ]
[ And this? This is why being around Flynn is so hard. He looks at Yuri with those eyes, with the flush on his cheeks, with an expression that Yuri doesn't care to try to understand. He doesn't want to have to deal with this, and here Flynn is, looking flushed and beautiful and angelic and Yuri releases his wings, looking away with a sigh. He pushes himself up and settles a hand on his hip ]
Yeah. Don't know if I'll be around to help next time.
[ It's a bit like cold water rushing down his neck. Flynn swallows, his wings dropping all at once, feathers brushing the chair as he pushes himself to his feet beside Yuri. The air around them feels hot and stifled even though his kitchen windows are open and a quiet breeze is flowing through the house. ]
[ Flynn sucks in a sharp breath, his wing fluttering under Yuri's fingers, leaning into the touch entirely without his permission. This has to stop, doesn't it?
He has to figure out some way to be normal, because that's what they both wanted to do, and if he can't even keep his word to Yuri of all people, then what good is he? He's going to drive Yuri away all over again, acting like this. So, then, what next? Be normal. He nods a bit to himself.
The smile he pushes onto his own face isn't exactly fake, but it's a little strained. ]
It's possible they'd just leave me like that. They seem to enjoy that kind of thingâit was a spirit who sold me these chairs. Perhaps she just didn't realize?
[ It's so damn weird. Yuri hates that smile, and looks away from him, feeling decidedly unwelcome here. Maybe he shouldn't have come-- but then Flynn would still be trapped in that chair.
It's like this: one day, they have the best time, they hang out together and laugh and talk, and the next, there's this tension that Yuri can't shake. He doesn't like it, he doesn't know what to do with it ]
Maybe. I guess they're all with the fox... or made by her? I don't know. Hate to think they're just here to fuck with us.
[ Flynn made this weird and he is going to make it not weird again, damn it. He sucks in another breath through his nose, steels himself, and turns properly to face Yuri, flour-smeared and stiff. ]
Well, I suppose itâs moot because you did help. You didnât have to stop cooking to come over, though.
Hey, I came over. It's fine, you don't have to [ what, Yuri? He doesn't have to what? ] do that.
[ It's all so weird, and he reached up to rub at the flour again ]
It's fine. I was done. [ At least, the cakes were out of the oven. They have to cool anyways, and the spirits seem very lenient about what constitutes a shift ] What were you studying?
[ Wait. Flynn pauses. Looks at that smear of flour, looks at Yuriâs averted gaze and his stiff shoulders. Back to the flour.
Slowly, Flynnâs brain kicks into gear. ]
Yuri, where were you baking?
[ He hasnât seen much of Yuriâs house but heâd made Yuri show him the progress on the window and then the inside of his house, the other day, and it had been⊠small. ]
You do smell pretty good, but maybe when theyâre finished.
[ Naturally Flynn realizes only after saying this that itâs weird to notice how Yuri smells-like vanilla and spices-but he powers onward with his cheeks hot. ]
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He likes the pictures, he likes that Flynn is trying, that having sex that one time, not really by either of their own volition, didn't change things irrevocably, except in Yuri's mind. If Flynn can be normal, Yuri can be normal, too.
To the first picture, he returns one of his own, a cake that he made at the tea shop with a little dog face on it.
To the second, he comes down to sit with Flynn, quiet as the sun sets.
To the latest one, he can't help a laugh ]
want me to break the backs off your chairs?
could be a big business
chairs for wings
what thing?
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We shouldn't break them, but maybe I should give up on them and we could attempt to find new ones? Once I free myself.
The thing over my head. Hold on
[ Another picture, this one blurry and even harder to read: the top half of Flynn's face, his eyes angled up, and a bright glowing light blowing out the entire top half of the picture. ]
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could get stools
a light? you could just move
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It comes with me. Wait,
[ Now it's a video, the same angle, of Flynn moving his head back and forth. Sure enough, the light is following, emanating from behind him. ]
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what is it? it looks like a light
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[ thats more fodder to his "legends are angels" theory. at least he's on his way now, heading toward Flynn's house at the clip he can only do as a panther ]
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At least it's dimmer when I'm trying to sleep. I can't even touch it. My hand just goes through it.
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How'd you manage that?
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Surely that's the reason for looking over Yuri like it's been a week since he saw him instead of two days. Surely that's the reason for noticing the flour in his hair and the tilt of his smile.
His wings droop a bit more. This is pretty uncomfortable, actually. ]
I don't... entirely know? I was eating breakfast and working on a few of the study questions about it, and when I tried to get up...
[ He arches his back, lifting himself as high off the chair as he can go to show exactly how entangled both his wings are, and flops back down with a huff. ]
The problem is mostly that it hurts quite a bit trying to get them free. Apparently they're delicate.
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[ He laughs and pushes himself off the wall to come over and inspect the damage. Except he's distracted for a second by the shine above Flynn's head. His halo is much clearer in person than it was in pictures. He really does look like an angel: the white wings, the shining halo, the blonde hair, a paragon of goodness, that's what Flynn is.
He falters for a step, feeling... worse. Inferior. Terrible for feeling all the things he's been feeling about Flynn. He can't feel them, he can't act on it, not when Flynn is so good, not when he needs to help Flynn become everything he can be.
He apologized. That was making amends for the lightning. He needs to put it to bed. ]
It is bright. [ Is all he manages to say, before he turns his attention to the wings, inspecting the damage. They're threaded through the back of the chair, and shouldn't be too hard to fix. ] Uh, hold on. You mind if I touch them?
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He'd blinked and the sunset had been over, and Yuri had still been there at his side in the cooling night, listening to the calls of strange birds over the water with his ears perked.
That same awareness creeps over him now:
Yuri is so close, he thinks, and then wonders why the thought is so important even as Yuri shifts closer still. He stares up at him for a long moment, caught in the lines of his face thrown into relief by the light over his own head, and looks away just as Yuri looks down at his face with his heart in his throat. Tension vibrates through him. ]
Not at all. Just be careful of the joints, I think.
[ And then, because that came out a little breathless and strange: ]
...thank you.
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Get up, just a little, I'll try to-- [ The features are soft and so, so alive under his hands and he tries not to think about the fact that they're a part of Flynn, as much as his hands or his arms, new appendages that this place has given him.
It's easy once Flynn gets up, and Yuri carefully pulls the chair out, feeding his wings through the middle, avoiding the little curves of wood in the middle of the chair. ] There you go. Yeah, man, save those chairs for people without wings.
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They're new, so the bar is low, but Flynn wasn't expecting the shiver of feeling, the absolute narrowing of his awareness down to Yuri's long fingers delicate in his feathers, pressing gently, folding and pushing down so the long bones slip through the back of the chairâ
He shivers, involuntary, goosebumps racing along his skin. Yuri is saying something, he should-he should look up, do something, say something.
"without wings," he catches, and looks up at Yuri with words caught on his lips and his eyes wide, his wings flexing out to the sides. ]
Umâyes. They're... I should. Get new ones.
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Yeah. Don't know if I'll be around to help next time.
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...right. I do need to learn to rely on myself.
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Yeah, or you'll be walking around with a chair on your back until some spirit takes pity on you.
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He has to figure out some way to be normal, because that's what they both wanted to do, and if he can't even keep his word to Yuri of all people, then what good is he? He's going to drive Yuri away all over again, acting like this. So, then, what next? Be normal. He nods a bit to himself.
The smile he pushes onto his own face isn't exactly fake, but it's a little strained. ]
It's possible they'd just leave me like that. They seem to enjoy that kind of thingâit was a spirit who sold me these chairs. Perhaps she just didn't realize?
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It's like this: one day, they have the best time, they hang out together and laugh and talk, and the next, there's this tension that Yuri can't shake. He doesn't like it, he doesn't know what to do with it ]
Maybe. I guess they're all with the fox... or made by her? I don't know. Hate to think they're just here to fuck with us.
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Well, I suppose itâs moot because you did help. You didnât have to stop cooking to come over, though.
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[ It's all so weird, and he reached up to rub at the flour again ]
It's fine. I was done. [ At least, the cakes were out of the oven. They have to cool anyways, and the spirits seem very lenient about what constitutes a shift ] What were you studying?
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[ Wait. Flynn pauses. Looks at that smear of flour, looks at Yuriâs averted gaze and his stiff shoulders. Back to the flour.
Slowly, Flynnâs brain kicks into gear. ]
Yuri, where were you baking?
[ He hasnât seen much of Yuriâs house but heâd made Yuri show him the progress on the window and then the inside of his house, the other day, and it had been⊠small. ]
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[ Naturally Flynn realizes only after saying this that itâs weird to notice how Yuri smells-like vanilla and spices-but he powers onward with his cheeks hot. ]
But, no, I meantâdo you have an oven?
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Yeah, uh. No, I don't. I was baking at the tea shop.
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