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

"Leave it."

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["Crystal", huh. Well, it makes sense — Yuri's here dancing under an assumed name for the exact same reason Balthus hadn't used his own when he'd signed up for his fights tonight, because this is the Ruby Underground and people don't last long in places like this when they're too forthcoming about the truth. And strangely enough, the idea of being a little bit not themselves goes a long way toward getting him to relax and settle in to the charade, not unlike the way he'd felt that day at the docks when they'd both been wearing their respective monsters. This isn't a Balthus-and-Yuri thing, exactly. "Crystal" isn't Yuri; she's just a costume he's wearing, no different than one of those fancy gowns he dons like armor before he goes out for a night's underhanded work.

So, okay. Maybe he can do the same thing. It's not like he's never entertained pretty much this very fantasy before, albeit in a slightly different setting and slightly different circumstances. And as soon as the thought occurs to him, his body language subtly but visibly changes — he settles in like he owns the chair he's sitting in, poured into it and lounging instead of just occupying it, and angles his chin for just that extra touch of triumph.]

I'm a little more than your average guy, gorgeous. Might be a lot for you to handle.

[It's an obvious, over-the-top boast, but his delivery is impeccable — smooth enough that Jasper starts to laugh, even as he's getting out his phone to pay.

Showtime, you're a riot! he guffaws, the mirth covering up the telltale plink of a satisfactory transaction. There you go, darlin'. A lot more where that came from, if you feel like blessing us with your company a little more.

But behind the swagger, Balthus is watching the exchange carefully, thinking it over — and sure, there's a lot of very good reasons why it's a bad idea to get gold involved between the two of them, but —

But this is a game, isn't it? They're playing characters. And for once, he's actually got the coin in his pocket to be a gentleman for a change.

So he unearths his own phone, crooking a beckoning finger at Yuri when he's able to catch his eye.]

C'mere, you. I'll take the dance, but a face as pretty as yours deserves some appreciation, too.

( Yuri offers Balthus a pretty little laugh: )

Oh yeah? I dunno, sweetheart — I'm yet to meet a man I haven't been able to manage.

( A wink follows as Jasper waves his phone over the plump curve of his ass. The change in his friend is a visible thing: Balthus adjusts his posture, lets himself become a presence as opposed to some guy just tagging along for the ride, and Yuri does his best to ignore the way rubs a twinge of interest between his legs as he turns back to the man behind him. Standing over him now, he leans down to stroke a pink-lacquered fingertip along the line of the Gem's jaw: )

Keep it coming and my company's all yours.

( He purrs, lowering himself as though intending on settling right there on his lap—

But then Balthus catches his eye, crooks a finger at him, and ups the ante of their game.

Much to Jasper's (playful) disappointment, Yuri rises from the spread of his lap and glides over to where his friend has established himself for the evening. Perhaps this is what women (and men, apparently) have always seen when he's been looking for company of an evening: easy confidence; a man who brags because he knows he can back it up; strength and heat coiled into thick muscle just begging to be held onto. )

Showtime, huh?

( Yuri sinks down on to his lap, straddling him easily as he brings a hand up to curl over his shoulder. Balthus looks impossibly good lounging there between his thighs: drenched in neon light each cut and bruise stands out starkly against his skin, and he croons softly as he takes his chin between thumb and forefinger to turn his cheek into the light. The damage isn't terrible — Goddess knows he'd taken far worse beatings at the hands of the Imperial and Kingdom soldiers — but it's enough that it'll still be fun to pretend that he needs a little TLC. )

You want me to help you feel better, baby? I could take real good care of you.

( Heat thrums between them as Yuri swirls his hips over Balthus's lap, before swivelling around in an elegant twist to offer him the curve of his back and the inverted heart-shape of his ass. The lilac strip of his thong just keeps his modesty covered as Yuri rolls his hips back onto him: )

I promise, you'll forget about all those bumps and scrapes while you're with me.

[It's slight, enough so that even Jasper likely missed it from just his short distance away in the neon-lit room — but when Yuri rounds on him and starts his sultry approach, Balthus can't suppress a shiver of interested anticipation.

He's not supposed to, of course; the guy he's pretending to be is a cool character, slick and steady and full of charm. He's seen dozens of dancers pull this same act, and he's been a gentleman through each and every one, but that's what they were to him — dancers. Entertainment. A diversion for a little while, for fun.

But whether he's being Crystal right now or not, Yuri is still Yuri, and that's the part that's proving most arousing in the moment. Yuri's looking at him like he's sizing up his next mark, like he's just spotted the tastiest prize in the whole room, and against all odds, the prize Yuri's set his eyes on right now is...him.

Balthus is not, strictly speaking, a skilled actor, and it shows as Yuri settles into his lap; his interest is too genuine, his eyes too soft where they ought to be gleaming. His breath isn't supposed to catch faintly in his throat when Yuri takes his face in his hand and looks his wounds over. He's supposed to be playful and aroused from the suggestive spectacle, and yet the thing that has him feeling like he's ready to eat out of the palm of Yuri's hand is just...

It's just that he's gentle. He's gentle, and he cares.

Crystal is a fantasy shared by everyone in this club right now. Yuri's the one touching his face, the one he locks eyes with and can't look away from.

(He doesn't know it, but Jasper notices. Catches the look on his face and misinterprets it, makes a mental note that the big lug with the powerful fists apparently has a weakness for falling into infatuation with the fantasies that strippers try to sell him.) ]

Barely a scratch. They don't even hurt.

[He licks his split sore lip, enjoying the view as Yuri shimmies on top of him and then phases smoothly into the next move of his routine; of course he wants to touch, terrible etiquette be damned, and ultimately all that supple skin proves far too tempting to resist. He rolls his shoulders back a little, feigning a stretch while he settles back into character, then featherstrokes his fingertips up the side of Yuri's leg from thigh to hip and waits to see if he gets slapped.

His knuckles, too, are already a little red. Even with a pair of gloves on, he'd thrown enough punches tonight to get the skin nice and aching sore.]

Though I'm not gonna say no, if you want to kiss 'em all better.

Oh yeah? A real tough-guy, huh?

( Yuri lets his attention flit back towards Jasper with a playful little smirk: )

You'd better keep an eye on this one, sweetheart. Seems like the kind of guy who could talk himself into a lot of trouble - and no-one would want that.

( No doubt Jasper will interpret Yuri's little comment as friendly flirtation; what would a stripper know about some guy he's only just met, right? Balthus, on the other hand, should be able to understand his words for what they really are: a beautifully subtle threat against the perils of letting "Showtime" take too many punches for the sake of coin.

The pads of his fingertips skim up over his thigh before Yuri can say something that might give their friendship away. Instead, he quickly slaps at Balthus's hand with a chiding little tsk tsk: )

Careful, handsome. If I let every guy with a pretty face break the rules, well ...

( He pushes himself up onto those clear stilettos before easing himself back onto the stage. There's something about forcing Balthus to watch, to wait to touch him that has his pulse thudding harder in his throat, and as he glides back into the hot-pink neon it's with a smirk that's just for Balthus.

No doubt Jasper, Antonio, and Goddess-knows who else will happily pretend that Crystal is thinking of them.

The music melts into something slow, deep, and sexy, and Yuri dips into a dance again. Having been well tipped since he started he opts for a less acrobatic, more sensual routine, using the pole as a tool to flaunt what none of the patrons in the booths are allowed to touch. With Balthus's eyes on him he feels powerful - maybe he likes the idea of the other man kind of being at his mercy a little too much - or maybe this is just the best way he knows to recover from having been caught out.

So much for getting a fresh start and not falling back into bad habits, huh? )

[He chuckles under his breath at the sting of the slap, obediently pulling his hand away and raising it palm-out in a universal gesture of contrition. Yuri's silken words serve as a timely reminder, however, not to let his guard down so easily — as easy as it would be to get lost in Yuri's spell, there are still eyes all over this establishment, and if they're following Yuri, then sooner or later they're going to land on him, too.]

Then I'd have a lot of guys with pretty faces to fight off, wouldn't I?

[But he doesn't try to resist when Yuri ultimately dances away from him again, regardless of the way it only seems to exponentially increase his budding arousal. It's one thing to want, but to be given a taste and have it pulled away again — it's pleasurable torture at its finest, and he can feel the faintest stirrings of their Gembond connection starting to thrum as Yuri makes his way back onto the stage.

It's breathtaking how this dance and the one from when he'd first began his routine feel like night and day — where before he'd been performing, this time he's showing off. And maybe it's arrogant to think that this time Yuri's shifted from trying to be everyone's fantasy to just being his specifically, but damn if the pulse of his blood and the heat in his pants don't seem to think so, anyway.

You know, I think she likes you, Jasper remarks from the next seat over, and Balthus doesn't really want to take his eyes off of Yuri even for a second, but he makes himself do it anyway, long enough to tilt his head and slide his gaze to the side, flashing a sly and rakish grin at his new friend.]

Damn, don't I hope so.

[He says, under his breath but just loud enough for Jasper to hear him over the music, and lets his attention drift back to Yuri's dance again.

It would be rude to just allow all of his desire and attraction and fascination pour out through his ruby into the slender thread of connection they seem to perpetually share; Yuri's dancing, and this is his job, and something like that could be distracting and disruptive.

But he almost thinks he tastes something of Yuri's emotions too, in return — distant and glowing like light filtering down through water, a subtle siren's song that urges him to watch and want and wait — and he does, he does, he does.]

( Working the rest of his shift without showing Balthus clear favouritism is more difficult than he'd thought - but somehow he manages it. More people crowd his stage as the night goes on, and the money gets better as more drinks are consumed, until two o'clock finally rolls around and Yuri gives a final twirl before gently touching down on the stage.

He doesn't announce that his shift has ended - in no small part because it wouldn't really be safe for him to do so. The last thing he wants is to put himself in a position where anyone might try and wait for him: not everyone is as respectful as Antonio, Jasper, and Balthus, and Yuri's already seen someone get hit with a ban after getting overly handsy and trying to pull "Crystal" from the stage.

Yuri doesn't want to end up slitting the throat of someone who's willing to part with huge handfuls of Currents just to watch him ride a pole, and he'd rather not lose a well-paying job because some useless sack of skin thought he'd be an easy target.

Violet eyes search for Balthus's as his final song draws to an end. It's difficult to convey "hey, I'm finished, wait for me outside?" in what ends up being a single, careful glance, but he hopes it's enough to at least get the other man thinking that he was trying to tell him something. He switches out with one of the other dancers - a spunky Gem called Citrina - and makes a beeline for the changing room, where he doesn't think twice about throwing his leggings and sweatshirt on over the top of his skimpy costume. He uses his phone to tap a message to Balthus as he slips into his sneakers: )

Meet me out front.

( This is about speed, not elegance, which is why his makeup remains put as well, and he only just remembers to grab his bag from his locker before making his way out back and around to the front of the club. It'd probably be best for both of them if they don't linger too long in sight of the establishment; his employers have a pretty lax "don't ask, don't tell" when it comes to their dancers going home with johns, however it probably wouldn't look great to do it in plain sight of the business. )

I'll wait a minute, then I'm gonna have to go.

[He really wasn't expecting to spend his whole night in a club, when he'd first let Jasper convince him to drop in for a drink and a dance or two. But introducing Yuri into the equation changed everything in the blink of an eye, and as the night wears on, Balthus finds himself sitting and watching as much for the sake of being present for Yuri in general as for the sake of his own satisfaction. He keeps to the act — tipping where he's prompted, flirting with other dancers when they come by, being partial to "Crystal" but careful not to let his preference start to look like a fixation.

Then the shift change rolls around, and Yuri catches his eye before he darts off the stage; it's a signal, clear as day, and so Balthus isn't altogether surprised when a text message pops up a minute or two later with a better expression of Yuri's intentions.

He times it carefully — waiting until Jasper is distracted, then winking at a passing dancer and sending him in his friend's direction, waiting for him to get preoccupied before rising from his chair, clapping him on the shoulder, and bidding him a lucky rest of the night. Deception may not always be Balthus's strong suit, but a timely escape? Now that's where he's basically an expert.

By the time he weaves his way outside, he's probably right on the verge of Yuri's implicit time limit, so rather than waiting or looking around for him, he simply lets himself be seen before heading off down the street himself. There are quiet alleys dotting the path along the route he'd taken from Knuckledusters to the club, and at the first one he reaches, he slips out of sight into it, idling there to wait until their departures are separate enough that it only looks like they left around the same time, and not necessarily together.]

Alley's clear. Come find me.

( The alley, then.

Yuri swipes through to his work app as he heads to their meeting place just to see whether Balthus's presence there tonight was a help or a hindrance - and fortunately for the both of him, the sum of his take-home tips is more than enough to both reimburse his friend as well as cover some home costs. A relieved smile touches his lips as he palms his phone back into his bag, before rounding the corner into the alley where Balthus is waiting for him. )

... Hey.

( That their situation is kind of unusual isn't lost on Yuri. The last time he'd seen Balthus in person he'd sucked his dick off the side of a dock, after which they'd had an unexpectedly honest conversation via text message about his past and a possible future. If asked what he'd have expected after that he probably wouldn't be able to come up with much of an answer - however he's pretty sure it wouldn't have involved Balthus finding out about his evening job.

... However.

All that aside, he'd still felt Balthus's desire for him through the pulse of their connection - hadn't he? His friend had watched the show, frittered away his earnings, and all with an easy smile on his face, as though there was nowhere else he'd rather be than at the foot of Yuri's stage. That alone is enough to warm Yuri into spinning this out a little longer - and he tosses Balthus a little wink before slipping his arm into the crook of his elbow. )

So.

( The corner of Yuri's lips lifts into a little smirk. )

You gonna walk me home, Showtime? I might let you kiss me goodnight if you do.

[It's funny how Yuri can appear in the mouth of a dark alleyway in sweatpants with the same panache as he'd sauntered onto a stage bathed in lavender and neon, and he's just as enticing in the former setting as in the latter. Maybe even a little moreso like this, because back at the club "Crystal" had been everyone's and no one's all at the same time, but Yuri only came here to meet up with one guy in the moonlight shadows.

Funny too how he's shorter without the heels and the height that the pole has afforded him, but it hasn't impacted his presence in the slightest. Yuri wears different masks and faces and moods, whichever one he can weaponize best at any given moment, but he's never any less the boss no matter who he's being in the moment.

Well —

No, that's not altogether true, is it?

Because he's caught a glimpse of another Yuri now, too. The one who tries not to want people (he makes them all want him) and who thinks he's not worthwhile (a prize they all can't afford) and who once got his heart broken by a careless word (so he says what they want to hear and never means a word of it).

That Yuri goes somewhere else when the one he'd watched all night tonight is on display.

All of a sudden, he finds himself thinking that that's the Yuri he really wants to kiss right now.]

Sorry, gorgeous, but it's about time you let me call the shots for a while.

[What's useful is that Yuri has already linked their arms, so he's a little trapped to begin with. And Balthus is physically just bigger than him, and bulkier, and right now he's not the advantage of initiative so he's faster, too.

Fast enough to pull them around and get Yuri between himself and the wall, and reach down just far enough to scoop him up by the undersides of his thighs and press him up nice and high where Balthus can look up at him a little.]

Trust me...?

[...he says, after the fact and mostly in the hopes of not getting a knife to the throat, but then he's surging up and claiming Yuri's pretty lipsticked mouth the way he's wanted to all night, and if he winds up with a cut throat for it after all, well — then at least, what a way to go.]

( It would amuse Yuri to find out how regularly Balthus worries he's going to end up on the business end of a dagger. He'd thought it was painfully obvious that, of all the people who've shown up on Noctium so far, he's the person in which he's already placed by far the most trust — even more so since touching on Pieter, Yuri's heartbreak, and what the future could look like for the two of them.

Does Balthus really think he'd get a blade in the gut for hoisting him up against a wall?

Does he really think he'd earn a swift execution for looking up at Yuri like he hung the moon and stars?

One hand splays against Balthus's cheek as he surges up to catch his lips in that urgent kiss — the kiss that Yuri knows he's been waiting to give him ever since they locked eyes across a puddle of neon lavender. He can feel the hot beat of his pulse somewhere in his throat as his free hand clings to his friend's shoulder, momentarily forgetting about the cut on his cheek, the split in his lip, and the various other scrapes and bruises he's likely squeezing.

They can deal with those later.

It's a messy lip-lock — deep, ferocious, the result of a night of teasing for the both of them — and Yuri groans low against Balthus's mouth as they hold tight to one another. He knows there's no chance of him falling; not only is he pinned, but Balthus can lift much more than Yuri's own slight weight, and so he slides his palm down the other man's shoulder to curl over the bunch of his bicep.

Yuri knows that Balthus has him. Yuri does trust him in this, and his lips curve into an easy grin as he licks into his mouth and squeezes his thighs around him. )

Mm.

( Goddess, but being with Balthus feels incredible. It had felt good that day at the lake when their Gems had been helping things along, but there's something about knowing this is them — it's all them — that leaves Yuri all but trembling with anticipation. When they're forced to part for air he finds himself panting softly against his mouth, his lipstick ruined and his kiss-flushed lips smiling as he drops his head back against the brickwork. )

Couldn't wait, huh?

( Yuri looks down at him from beneath the fan of his lashes as he tucks a lock of hair back behind Balthus's ear. )

... If it's gonna be like that, I suppose I could let you call the shots from time to time.

I already waited. For hours.

[There's one thing that no glamorous dancer fantasy could possibly live up to in reality, and it's all the faint little noises Yuri makes when he's held up and treated right. All those guys dreaming of "Crystal" don't get to hear the huff of his breath when he pants for air, or the rustle of fabric where it scrapes against brick. They don't get the scratch of painted nails through his hair, along his scalp. They don't get the whisper of fingertips over his skin or the way Yuri groans when he's kissed the way he likes.

He gets that. He gets it because he's Balthus von Albrecht and he's kissing Yuri Leclerc, and this is pretty much what they are to each other anyway, except with a whole lot more sex layered in that they hadn't been having previously.]

But I wouldn't mind hearing where you learned to dance like that, among other things, so why don't you do the explaining and I'll stick with the kissing.

[After all, with his head tipped back like that, Yuri's throat is practically an invitation, and he's got some residual lipstick on his mouth that would look awfully pretty smudged over it. What is he supposed to do, not take advantage of it?]

( Balthus's stubborn little I already waited gets an affectionate chuckle from Yuri, who pulls a hand through his hair properly as he nuzzles in closer to press his lips against the front of his throat. Again, it seems suddenly ridiculous that it's taken them this long to realise that they could have be doing this — that it could be another way for them to show each other that they're wanted, needed, and cared for. )

Ah—

( The hand at Balthus's bicep tightens momentarily as his lips flutter over his pulse. He's sensitive there — his throat has always been a spot he's liked to have kissed, bitten, even sucked — and those lashes slide closed for a moment as he )

I take classes in the city. I've— mmh, I found out about pole dancing not too long after I arrived here, and since I was Claude's Dancer back home ... I figured why not transfer those skills?

( He tilts his head a little further, encouraging the hot trail of Balthus's lips. )

Turns out I'm pretty good at it.

[It doesn't even feel...all that different, shockingly. How laughably easy it is to dovetail hungry kisses and soft groans with their usual banter, and merely make understandable allowances for an interjected gasp here and there. They could be having this conversation in a quiet kitchen over beers, or they could be having it in this dark alley amid writhing and sighs, and it all still feels as natural as breathing.]

Yeah, well. You've always been the enterprising type.

[He kisses his way across Yuri's neck, following the curve until he finds the thrum of his pulse, and settles in comfortably to nibble and lick until he decides he needs his mouth again, and then he just tilts his head and rests there, breath washing hot over the reddened skin while he idles.]

Caught you looking my way more than a few times, too. Did you like that I was watching you?

So you noticed, did you?

( Balthus's teeth graze over his pulse-point and this time Yuri does shiver atop him, his thighs pulling tense as a twinge of heat curls into the root of his cock. This isn't usually the kind of thing he does in an alley — or rather, it hasn't been the kind of thing he's done in an alley since he left the streets of Enbarr — but telling Balthus to stop?

Goddess, no, there isn't a chance he's going to do that. )

Yeah, I liked it. They didn't—

( Yuri exhales softly, his smile a dreamy little thing as he massages the pads of his fingers into the back of Balthus's neck while he catches his breath. Having him rest there against his throat is no less intimate than having his lips working over tender skin, and a less urgent, more tender warmth unfurls low in his belly as he touches his lips to the other man's temple. )

All of those eyes on me, but none of them looked at me like you did. It made me want to see how much I could make you want me.

( And maybe, just maybe, Balthus will feel the beginnings of a smirk curling against his brow. )

I'd say it paid off in the end, hm?

Hhh...the only time I looked away was to make sure none of those other guys were getting any wise ideas.

[A lesser man might be getting tired, fighting ten rounds of battle and still holding up a pretty little minx against an alley wall for an extended period of time with his bare hands, but that's why lesser men don't earn themselves the title King of Grappling, now do they.

Besides, Yuri isn't the only one sighing when their heat and urgency melts a little into tenderness, and he'd sooner let his arms fall from his shoulders than sacrifice even a single moment of the way Yuri's fingers stroke and soothe at the nape of his neck. Pausing to breathe reminds him of his collection of little aches, the sting of his cut lip and the throb of the bruises beneath his skin, but that scattering of sharp sensation pairs well with the smoother weight of Yuri's affection, and he can't help but want to bask in it for as long as he can.]

If I could've kept you in my lap the whole night, I would've. Nice and safe.

[He chuckles after a moment, low and warm, and huffs against Yuri's throat.]

I mean you, keeping me safe. You're cute when you get worried, you know that?

( Yuri just scoffs, for all he knows there's not much point in trying to deny it. He was a little worried for Balthus when his new friend let slip what he's been getting up to - but he also knows that he's a man who's more than capable of taking care of himself. Still, there's no real way to prevent his stomach from dropping when he sees his friends with injuries he wasn't there to prevent, but he's at least self-aware enough to know that he can't micromanage everything all the time.

... Not here, anyway. Not when he's already told Balthus he wants him to have the opportunity to take more control over his own life. )

Yeah, well. Someone's gotta look out for the tough guy.

( ... But that doesn't mean he can't gently warn his new business partners to keep his best interests at heart, and his smile is all wolf as he ever so gently fists up a handful of Balthus's hair. Yuri tilts his face up towards him so he can look at him properly, his lipstick smudged and his cheeks pink from kissing: )

And your safety's a number-one concern of mine, pal.

( Ah, but slotting their lips together again is easy. Yuri kisses Balthus deeply — Seiros, but it doesn't seem to get less dizzying — and indulges in a playful nip of his lower lip as he pulls away again. )

... But you know, there's nothing stopping me from spending the rest of the night in your lap.

( Their lips brush again, open and damp, but Yuri doesn't let it turn into another kiss just yet. )

How about it?

Aw, Yuri.

[He ought to offer up some kind of offhand, cocky remark, but it's hard not to lose sight of that notion while he's busy relishing the warmth of Yuri's affectionate care. He's used to never taking anything for granted, of maintaining skepticism when it comes to people implying security and offering protection. But Yuri looks out for the people he cares about, and he never hurts harder than those people can bear to take — and he has a bad habit of learning all of a guy's weak spots and using them in moments like this, tugging his hair, holding his gaze, tempting him with passion all over again.

He knows his smile is crooked and a little kiss-stupid when it warms on his lips, blossoming in the wake of Yuri's indulgent attention. He probably looks like a love-drunk idiot, and he doesn't altogether care, because he feels like he's more himself than he's ever been and he's far too busy to be thinking about appearances at a time like this.]

You already took all my money, you bastard, so I hope you're doing this one on the house.

[He laughs, bright and content. Before they'd hashed things out between them, he might've been reluctant to crack a joke like that, unsure of how it might be received.

But it's exactly the sort of wisecrack that he would make to Yuri under any other circumstances, and that's the important part of just being themselves — is that they still get to just be themselves.]

Or maybe in the house. Your house?

( Crooked and a little kiss-stupid is right, but Yuri's beginning to wonder whether he doesn't think Balthus might be at his best this way. There's something about that giddy softness in those dark eyes — that adoring expression, like a man bewitched — that makes Yuri feel like this is something he could do for the rest of his life, and his smile softens around the edges as he slides his hand along the cut-glass line of his jaw.

Yeah. That big, silly, radiant smile? It's the kind of smile a person would fight for. )

On the house? Do I look like a charity to you, von Albrecht?

( But now Yuri's laughing too, his free hand balling into a small fist that he thumps into Balthus's arm. It's good to joke with him like this — good to finally be able to talk and tease each other about whatever they please — and all of a sudden Yuri feels a little foolish for how hard he worked to keep the other man at arm's length.

If this is what it's like for Balthus to really know him ...

Maybe this moment what their friendship has been waiting for. Maybe now they'll be able to support each other in the ways they've deserved all along. )

C'mon, put me down. I'll see how I feel when we get back to my place — maybe you've got a little luck left in you yet.

( Balthus, you're getting laid. You're getting so very, very, laid, and then you're getting all your money back in a one-off payment that Yuri probably won't mention unless asked. )

[HELL YEAH HE'S GETTING LAID, TEN ROUNDS UNDEFEATED AND HE'S IN FOR TEN MORE.]

Well, hey, when the dice are rolling your way, you don't stop rolling.

[But he does step away from the wall, easing Yuri back down until his sneakers touch the concrete like he's a priceless work of art and not a man, and before he can get away entirely, Balthus brings his hands to hold Yuri's face and bends to press a surprisingly affectionate kiss to his forehead.]

You did great up there tonight. Not that you didn't already know that, but hey. Someone oughta tell you anyway.

[And rather than linking arms, he opts instead to sling one of his around Yuri's shoulders, drawing him in close and snug against his side for the walk back home.]

Thanks, B. I'm up there around three nights a week, so any time you feel like swinging by again ...

( Yuri tosses a wink up at Balthus as he settles in for the walk home, his own arm slung around the other man's waist as they make their way back to the Emerald District. It's kind of funny, really, that the Underground feels so much more like home than the gleaming city of Sumarlok - but then he supposes as much is to be expected, considering where he's lived for the last five years.

They chat as they walk: Yuri asks after the ladies at the spa before giving Balthus a quick run-down of the Gems he's met working at the club, but around twenty minutes of shooting the shit sees them heading across the driveway to the glass-panelled door of Yuri's home. )

... Hey. This was nice.

( He says lightly, as the lights in the foyer rise to an amber glow in response to the front door being unlocked. There's a soft 'thud' from his bag as he slings it onto the lilac chaise while toeing out of his sneakers: )

It's been kind of hard to find a moment to just have a catch-up, huh? What with everything else that's been going on.

( A soft smile touches Yuri's lips as he closes the distance between them, one hand reaching for the front of Balthus's shirt so he can tug him down for another playful little kiss. )

Mm. Take me upstairs, handsome.

Mm. This felt a lot like old times, actually. You and me, burning the midnight oil.

[You know, he's never really seen much benefit in shirts, but the way Yuri grabs onto his and uses it as leverage is precisely the kind of thing that could turn his opinion right around. But aside from the kisses — which are definitely welcome, but relatively new — this little cadence of Yuri's is familiar, too. He's seen it from the vantage point of his mattress often enough, Yuri rolling in late and scattering belongings like a tree shedding leaves while he works his way towards flopping down into bed himself.

It's a dance he already knows the steps to, so he falls into it easily himself. His own bag joins Yuri's on the chaise, and his boots get kicked off in the relative vicinity of the door; beneath the more reliable lamplight of the foyer, he lifts his hand and flexes it experimentally, checking for damage to his knuckles or anything he might've missed between the adrenaline and the trickier neon of the club.

Nothing too bad, all told. He'll ache a little bit tomorrow, sure, but it'll help him sleep. So will the sex that they're definitely going to have as soon as he gets Yuri upstairs, which reminds him that he really ought to get on that.]

We're not still playing like we were at the club, are we? I seem to recall Crystal making me some promises she's yet to deliver on.

[Without preamble, he bends and scoops Yuri up in a princess carry, absently making sure the door is shut and locked behind them before heading for the stairs as bidden.]

Something about making me forget all my aches and pains?

( Yuri lets himself be scooped up into the cradle of Balthus's arms with an amused chuckle. )

You're thinking you didn't get your money's worth, hm? Don't worry — she doesn't make promises she won't keep.

( Soft lips brush against Balthus's jaw as he takes them up the stairs, easy as anything, before pulling back just enough to point along the hallway to his room. He's fortunate that his friend is used to the way he lives: Satan shoes lie discarded around the mirror in commemoration of outfits un-chosen, and his vanity is a mess of half-opened palettes, cotton pads, and lipsticks, for which he really needs to invest in some kind of storage. In the corner, a satin gown lays draped over the back of the chair, and his bathrobe spills across the floor in a crumpled heap just in front of a half-open wardrobe.

The bed in the centre of it all is an over-the-top, four-poster thing — but it appears as though Yuri at least went to the trouble of making it after he got up for the day. It's scattered with pointless cushions in various shades of burgundy, purple, and red, the whole look finished with what looks to be a crumpled camisole set sticking out from beneath one of them. )

... Ta-dah.

( A fingertip tilts Balthus's face towards him again so that he can steal another sultry little kiss: )

How about you get nice and comfortable on the bed, Showtime, and I'll show you what I meant.

[It's such a stupid nickname — even for a guy who self-styles as the Ultimate King of Grappling, which is saying something — that he can't help but laugh when Yuri teases him with it, accepting the kiss before lowering him down to his feet. If he hadn't been invited onto the bed outright, he probably would've hesitated to just climb up on his own; all the pillows and strewn-about clutter make him inclined to tread gingerly, unable to tell if he's inadvertently wrecking something important, or just treating the mess as it deserves.]

Bet you can't guess where they came up with "Showtime".

[Or probably he can; if anyone could arrive at the right conclusion, it's likely Yuri. But it's still a way of filling the air as he gets up onto the mattress, letting his long legs dangle over the edge while he leans back on his hands.]

This all right? Just tell me how you want me.

( Yuri just tosses Balthus a smirk as he dims the lighting to a soft amber glow, before moving towards the bed in the same slow, easy glide that brought him to his friends lap back at the club. He loses the leggings as he goes; peeling out of them is easy, and the hem of his sweatshirt skims low enough that his modesty remains preserved. )

I'm gonna go with ... because you're pretty good at making a spectacle of it whenever you knock someone clean out?

( It's a warm, affectionate tease, and he strokes the backs of his knuckles along his friend's cheekbone before easing forwards again. Yuri puts a knee on the mattress beside Balthus so that he can settle over his lap, pale thighs spread and their hips flush but for the few layers between them. )

And this is perfect. In fact, I'd say I've got you right where I want you.

( His hands move between them to curl around the hem of his sweatshirt, which he pulls up and off over his head in a practiced, fluid motion. The removal of the shapeless garment reveals what Yuri had been hiding underneath: the pretty purple straps of his stage outfit cling to the smooth lines of his body, but this time his hair is a mess, his lipstick is ruined, and he's a feast for the eyes of one man as opposed to a club full of hopefuls.

A lazy swirl of the hips is all it takes to rub them together, and the corner of Yuri's lips lifts into a smirk that flashes sharp as he drapes his arms over his friend's shoulders. )

You can touch me all you want, now.

[Somehow, he never put two and two together that Yuri probably didn't change out of his stage outfit in his haste to leave the club, but rather just covered over it with his sweats and hit the streets in a hurry. Why it didn't occur to him, he can't rightly say — it just makes logical sense, for one thing, and it's no different than what any other athlete would do under the same circumstances. But somehow it stays a surprise, and an arousing one at that, as the sweatshirt comes off and Yuri's weight settles down in his lap like a challenge.

The warmer yellowish light flatters Yuri, Balthus muses. It reminds him of candlelight, softer and more golden than the harsh blue-white fluorescence that the majority of Sumarlok seems to prefer. More like home, like being back in the sparse but familiar comfort of Abyss. It helps him to unwind, as he unconsciously releases another layer of tension he hadn't really realized he'd even been holding.]

Yeah, you got it. Funny, isn't it? People thinking I'm the one good at putting on a show.

[He shifts his weight, adjusting to keeping himself upright with just one hand while the other arm slips around Yuri's waist. When he starts to rock his hips up in response to Yuri's teasing — too slow to stoke arousal from a smolder to an open blaze, but enough to keep their hips pressing together, enough to keep Yuri moving in his lap like the suggestion of a dance all in itself — his intentions don't take long to become clear.

Lazily, his lips find their way to Yuri's throat again, wanting to coax those same pretty sounds of approval from his throat like he'd done in the alley. He doesn't usually take foreplay so slow, truth be told, but — well, maybe he just wants to savor a little.]

Tell me you wanted this all night. That you wanted to drop the act and just come be with me.

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