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[foulplayed]

« mocking.bird » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION Yuri Leclerc ✦ Fire Emblem: Three Houses
RESIDENCE ✦ Emerald District
GEMBOND ✦ Amethyst

"Leave it."

INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST ✧ EXTRA

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[ashenputtel]

[The thing is, he's seen an act like this before, well enough to mark it as having all the trappings of a come-on. Women do this in taverns when they're looking for a tipsy willing man to lure back to someplace quiet for an evening; it's a good way of getting your pockets picked if you're not particularly careful, or too overwhelmed to notice or care. And then sometimes women do this and it's not out of any nefarious ulterior motives, it's just out of teasing pleasure, bypassing boundaries and invading personal space and having a good solid laugh over it because they're daring and beautiful and they can.

He's gone home with women before when they've done exactly this, and occasionally he did leave with his pockets a little lighter, but most of the time it just came about as a natural consequence of a night's entertainment. There are a lot of natural consequences to having someone lithe and beautiful snuggle up in your lap, as a matter of fact, and most of them are — are, uh, happening right now, actually.

But this isn't a come-on, he reminds himself a little desperately, no matter how identical to one it might look. It's just Yuri feeling comfortable enough to be playful, and that's enough. It's enough. It's such a far cry from the keyed-up, tense, distance-creating Yuri whose kitchen he'd wandered into on his first night in Sumarlok. This is a happier Yuri, a more contented Yuri.

He can't ruin that for him now. He can't let stupid notions of his own get in the way of letting him play like this.]

Nah, you're fine. To tell you the truth, I barely even noticed.

[that is a daMNED LIE, BALTHUS VON ALBRECHT

and damn, he almost — he almost turns his head a little, almost tries to get Yuri's mouth to land along his jawline instead of that light brush of nose, but he doesn't. He doesn't think about lips working down the column of his neck and how much he likes it when women do that. He doesn't think about how Yuri's palm is just the slightest bit tacky from sweat or sap or the lemonade cup, he's not sure which, and how it feels like it's sunburning his chest where it presses against the skin.

Cut it out, he reminds himself stubbornly, and makes himself readjust his hold on Yuri with a little more confidence this time, shifting and re-settling him so he's not just squarely atop one singular thigh, or his leg's going to fall asleep and start to ache long before he's ready for this to be over.]

Guess that means your nice fancy sofa's still only the second-best seat in the house, though. Sorry for your loss, pal.

[foulplayed]

( The thing is, Balthus isn't necessarily wrong in his assessment of the situation. This is very much what it looks like when Yuri's in the mood for playful closeness: it doesn't happen very often, nor is it usually as self-indulgent as it is right now, but there have been moments in the past when, say, he's let a hand rest against Balthus's shoulder as he's leant in over a game of cards. Moments where he's fiddled with Hapi's hair, or helped Constance straighten her outfit — anything to weave a little touch into an otherwise helpful gesture.

That's the problem with distancing himself from everyone. Yuri is a tactile person: he likes to touch, likes to be touched, and he likes physical closeness with other people, but he's chosen to strategically separate himself from all that to fit the role he made for himself in the dank halls of Abyss. Touch became a tool that he uses to get what he needs to help his people, not something for him to enjoy simply because he wants to ...

But maybe here in Sumarlok, Yuri can risk a little change.

He lets Balthus reposition him on his lap easily enough — then offers a soft little snort at his friend's comment on the best seat in the house. )

Yeah? I suppose that just means I'm gonna have to invite you over more often.

( Settled comfortably again, Yuri moves the arm draped over Balthus's shoulders so that he can sink his hand into his hair. It's a light little touch — a gentle carding of fingers through the thick, dark locks at the back of his head — but the sensation softens the mischievous pinpricks at the sides of his smile into something undeniably fond. Right now it just doesn't seem to matter that Balthus will be able to feel the honest tenderness in the gesture, or that Yuri's affection for him is radiating from somewhere deep in his heart.

Right now, much like Balthus, he just wants to moment to last. He dips in close enough that his words flare warm against the shell of the other man's ear: )

And hey, I get this seat for free.

( A playful wink as he pulls back. )

I should thank those cute little vines for bringing you all the way here and helping me see sense.

[ashenputtel]

[It's the part when Yuri's fingers rake through his hair, when for a second Balthus forgets how to breathe.

There's something about that touch in particular that abruptly leaves him doubting just how idly playful this all really is anymore — a notion only enhanced by the fact that he can feel the echoes of their connection changing, melting down from something bright and bubbly into a sensation more warm and soft. It doesn't feel like teasing and it doesn't feel like a come-on, even; it's trust, somehow, in the way that he doesn't really let anybody get fingers-deep in his hair like this, but now Yuri's got him by the back of the head and the only thing he can think is that he hopes it stays that way.

It's odd, maybe. His expression doesn't leave him looking quite so much like a deer in the headlights anymore, but his usual bravado is absent, too. He closes his eyes to savor the feeling when Yuri murmurs against the shell of his ear, and when he opens them again, they're soft and reflecting something that ordinarily wouldn't seem to suit the Unrivaled King of Grappling —

He's vulnerable. Open. And so long as his undrawn breath burns away in his chest, he's eerily fine with that.]

Yuri.

[His voice goes low, like too loud a sound might break something.]

Does that mean you'll stay? For a while...?

[foulplayed]

( When Balthus opens his eyes again it's like Yuri has settled onto the lap of a different person — or rather, the lap of someone who looks almost identical to Balthus but for the vulnerability in his eyes. He seems younger, somehow, as though Yuri is getting a glimpse at the kid he buried beneath layers of swagger and confidence; at a young man who just wants to know that there's someone he can count on to remain by his side.

Yuri has already caused Balthus's trust in him to waver once. He won't do that to him again, and that resolve melts into the pulse of their bond. )

Stay where? Here?

( His free hand drifts down to Balthus's knee to give it a little squeeze. )

Sure, I'll stay.

( And perhaps it's just his imagination, but Yuri swears Balthus is now emanating that soft, soothing scent of lavender where he's settled in beneath him. It isn't an implausible thought: the sap from the vines could very well be clinging to his clothes and skin, but Yuri doesn't think much more of it as he sinks his hand deeper into the warm of the other man's hair. His free hand reaches for Balthus's to lace their fingers together again: )

For as long as you want me to, friend.

[ashenputtel]

[To think: all this, just because he didn't want to waste fifty cents' worth of a dollar lemonade.]

Yeah...here. It's not so bad, right?

[He forgets, sometimes, that Yuri is five years older now than he sort of expects him to be, on reflex. He supposes it's an easy enough thing to forget, considering Yuri doesn't look all that different by comparison. If anything, he's gotten prettier as he's grown into his features over the time that passed, but it's all still in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of way. He doesn't show the years he's taken on, and some people would call that a blessing, and from a certain point of view it could just as easily be called a curse.

They're only two years apart in age, now. Closer to being contemporaries, rather than misfits thrown together and held together by a bond forged in shared struggle. It makes it a little easier to feel his age, when he's not so far everyone else's senior.

If only he knew the right words to say that. If only he knew how to express how, just while this exchange lasts, it feels all right to give up a little of the weight he carries around on his shoulders, because for once it doesn't feel like they'll just transfer over onto someone else's if he does.]

I got such a nice view, and all.

[He smiles faintly, giving Yuri's fingers a squeeze in return.]