#yuri and flynn doing all this work and being responsible adults even at home

[goldentigerfestival]

no but listen. i love. domestic fluri.

i am a simple person. i just need them to come home and say "i'm back" while the other is doing whatever their daily business is. i need yuri to have to teach flynn to cook like a normal person bc he can't keep coming home to monstrosities. i need them to talk about their day over dinner and laugh at each other's shenanigans. i need one of them to go to bed before the other some nights with a very comfortable and relaxed "i'm heading to bed now", "okay be there in a bit". i need them to talk briefly in bed before going to sleep on nights they go to bed at the same time or one hasn't fallen asleep yet, and then sleep very close to each other but not always cuddling because they're just perfectly comfortable being that close while still having their "own" space.

i need them to be able to sit in silence and do things around the house near each other without having to always acknowledge each other. i need them past their honeymoon phase where they're so used to each other being around all the time that they're relaxed and it's perfectly normal to just be in the house together. i need them to get to the point where they're like "well damn wait, we've always been this way together". i need them to realize how comfortable and at peace they are with each other's presence that being in the same space is just completely normal.

[hopeisour4letteredword]

Coffee Break

Summary: Flynn gets his chat over coffee, but he and Yuri still can’t help catching on each others’ rough edges.

Part of the Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In series. Link to AO3 in the notes.

The coffee shop is one of Flynn’s favorites. Not his absolute favorite, because Yuri got weird about it and shot him down when he suggested that one. But this place is still up near the top of the list. Not too expensive, either. Hopefully some good food will ease a little bit of the tension from this meet up.

Flynn tries not to fidget as he waits out front. Is his outfit alright? He didn’t know what to wear for this. When he meets his coworkers and classmates, he usually shoots for business casual. But this isn’t a coworker or a classmate, it’s Yuri, and that makes everything paradoxically more and less important. Flynn erred on the casual side, one of his favorite worn t-shirts and a light, comfortable over-shirt, and he’s still irrationally afraid Yuri’s going to show up and call it pretentious.

He’s a little early. He has no right to be anxious that Yuri is a no-show just because he isn’t here yet. Besides, Yuri’s run late for everything before and after they were on the fencing team together in high school, so—

“Hey,” Yuri says, at precisely eleven o’ clock, giving Flynn a goddamn heart attack. Flynn whips around to stare at him. He’s got his hands shoved into his pockets, an untucked button-down shirt and jeans on, and a leash on one wrist that trails down to a panting but cheerful Repede. He looks just as uncomfortable as he did at the veterinary clinic. “Hope you don’t mind a third wheel. I don’t like to leave him home alone if I’ve got a choice, but I can take him b—“

“No!” Flynn says, hastily. As though he would ever be unhappy with Repede. He mentally ushers himself away from thoughts of intimate situations where he actually might prefer Repede’s absence. Those were only ever pipe dreams even at their relationship’s closest, and Yuri barely wants to talk to him right now. “No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll order for you while you grab one of the patio tables for us. Do you know what you want?”

“Just, like.” Yuri scrubs at his face. He seems exhausted. “A black coffee. And a plain croissant, or whatever they have that’s closest. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Flynn frowns, considering his appearance. He has dark bags under his eyes, and he looks a little pale. “Do...you want to take a rain check? Because if—“

“No,” Yuri snaps, then visibly takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I worked late. There’s not really going to be a good time to meet up when that won’t be true.”

“Okay,” Flynn says, carefully. “Coffee and a black croissant—oh, hell, I mean—“

He’s already made a fool of himself. It’s worth it, though, because a solid 75 percent of the tension leaks out of Yuri’s shoulders as he muffles laughter into his hand, a twinkle in his eye for the first time Flynn’s seen in years.

“A croissant and black coffee,” Flynn corrects himself. It’s hard not to smile in return when Yuri grins like that. God, Flynn had almost forgotten how beautiful he is. Pictures have never done Yuri justice. They can’t capture his vibrancy. “Do you want the receipt?”

“Yeah, I’ll pay you back.”

Flynn thinks about announcing it’s his treat, then remembers Yuri’s fight with Schwann at the clinic. “Sure thing.”

He leaves Yuri to pick a table and goes inside to order. Croissant, black coffee—Flynn almost orders him a large, because he looks like he needs it, but then feels guilty about making that call when Yuri’s going to be the one shelling out the extra money—and for Flynn, soup in a bread bowl and an iced tea. He loiters until the order is ready, watching Yuri through the glass shopfront. He’s slumped bonelessly into his chair, head lifted off the table just enough to look at something on his phone. Repede lounges in the shade under the table at his feet. Now that Flynn’s looking at both of them together, it’s a little disconcerting how healthy Repede is in direct contrast with how wrecked Yuri seems. Flynn shakes himself out of his thoughts long enough to collect the tray with their food and take it outside.

“So,” he says. Yuri grabs his coffee off the tray without looking before Flynn can even put it down all the way. His phone stays out until Flynn is all the way into his seat. “What’s new with you?”

Yuri shrugs. His gaze flickers up to meet Flynn’s, then back down to his croissant. “I told you, not a lot. Same routine as usual.”

“What about your new roommates?” Flynn presses.

“I don’t know what to tell you about them.”

That’s fine. Flynn works out enough to carry this conversation for a long while. Yuri will probably loosen up once Flynn can get him going. “Well, what are their names? What do they do?”

“Judy and Estelle, they’re the ones with jobs. Judy bartends and waitresses. She’s a real livewire. She does kickboxing and capoeira on the side. Estelle’s got a part time at the local library, and Hanks is a little soft on her, so he’s been giving her a little money for helping with tutoring at the community center. She’s pretty good at it, he’s been trying to get her to start her own gig. Made her draft some flyers and everything.”

“They sound fun,” Flynn says, a little wistfully. He wonders if Judy gets to spar with Yuri. He misses being able to do that. He wouldn’t mind meeting this Estelle, either—ever since Miss Estellise went missing, he hasn’t had anyone to discuss fine literature with. For a fleeting second he wonders if maybe, possibly Estelle is Estellise. Surely, though, someone would have said something to the police by now if that were true? Flynn had a meeting with Alexei just last week, and he said she was still missing. “How’d you meet them?”

“Judy and I used to work together. We both got fired for not putting up with a customer’s bullshit.” Of course they did. That’s Yuri all over. “We stayed friends after that, and she moved in a while ago after... stuff. Her business, not mine to tell. Estelle and I met at the community center. She needed a place to stay so I’m putting her up until she sorts herself out.”

“That’s very kind of you.” And just as typically Yuri as the way he got fired. He never could look away while somebody needed help and he might be able to provide it. Yuri shrugs off the praise. “You said there are others?”

“Karol and Rita,” Yuri says. He knocks back a long swig of coffee. “School kids. Twelve and fifteen. Babies, really. Technically, legally speaking, Judy and I are fostering them.”

“Didn’t Schwann—I mean, Dr. Oltorain, he said you’re in a two-bedroom apartment. They let you foster with five people in a two-bedroom apartment? How old is Judy, to be their second guardian?”

Yuri opens his mouth, starts to say something, and then closes it. This process repeats another couple times. Flynn remembers, with the beginnings of dread, that this is Yuri’s usual response to inquiries where the answer is possibly illegal, definitely not great, and sure to disappoint Flynn.

“Yuri...”

“I don’t want to lie to you, but...”

“Yuri, honestly.”

“You asked for it. Rav—Doctor... man, what the fuck is his name? All-terrain?”

“Repede has had the same vet for his entire life. How do you not know his name?”

“I know his name, just not that one.” Yuri gives him a deeply aggrieved look, like Flynn is the unreasonable one here. “He let us pretend we were living with him for the inspection.”

“He what?!”

“I didn’t want to tell you because you obviously respect him, but you asked.”

“That’s—God, that’s not even fair to the kids!”

“You’re right,” Yuri says, visibly losing patience by the second. “It’s so fucked up of me to let the kids—who chose this, I’ll point out—decide that they’d rather live with young adults they trust in temporarily less-than-ideal circumstances instead of, you know, going back to  abusive households or a fucking orphanage or something.”

“Children don’t always know what’s best for them—“

“And adults don’t always listen enough to know what’s best for them, either.”

“Other people in their lives can help make that call!”

“Yeah, they did. Do you think Raven helped us get custody because we’re inept guardians?” Yuri slams a hand against the table top. His coffee sloshes dangerously in its cup. “Do you think Hanks would let me do this if he thought it was an unlivable situation? Do you think I haven’t looked at the apartment and wondered if this is really fucking okay? I don’t want them to have to live like this, Flynn! But if Karol isn’t with us, he’ll be with someone who hits him! I’m not alright with that! If Rita isn’t with us, she’ll be self-isolating and self-destructing with some stranger she hates who doesn’t care as long as she’s not actively causing them trouble and they still get a paycheck! I’m not just going to sit on my ass and watch that happen because my apartment is small right now!”

His volume gets higher and higher as he talks, until he’s almost shouting at the end. He’s on the edge of his chair, hackles raised, hands clenching the edge of the table. Flynn watches him, frozen in place. Yuri’s chest heaves for breath for a moment, until he collapses backwards into his chair, throat working with a hard swallow. When he talks again, it’s quieter.

“We’re... we’re working on it, alright? We’re trying to find a new place. Between me and Judy and Estelle, we should be able to upgrade to a three-bedroom, if we find a cheap one that isn’t also, like, filled with asbestos or some shit.”

“I had no idea,” Flynn says, softly. “I shouldn’t have—I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Yuri says, wearily. “Yell at Yuri first, ask questions later. Standard procedure.”

“You know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?”

“I’m not—you know I’ve always respected your ability to follow through in hard situations, but sometimes it’s just... I worry about you.”

“You have a weird way of showing it,” Yuri mutters.

“You never listen to me when I try to be more subtle about it!”

“When the hell have you tried to be subtle about it?!” Yuri props an elbow on the edge of the table so he can sink his face into his palm. “You never ask questions before you flip out on me, you never go ‘hey, maybe that’s not a great idea, could you explain why you’re doing it that way?’ You just jump straight down my damn throat to chew me out! Sometimes shit isn’t so clear cut, alright? I know it’s my own fault for putting myself in these situations in the first place, but sometimes you have to make a hard call.”

“I—“ Flynn rubs his hands over his own face, breathing through gritted teeth. Only Yuri has ever been this infuriating. “Why does it always have to be you? You’re always the one making the hard calls. Why can’t you let somebody else take the heat for once? Why can’t you ever give yourself a break?”

“How am I supposed to know anybody else will follow through? I can’t leave that to chance.”

“Of course you can’t.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not trying to! How are you so determined to defend the value of human compassion and so cynical about other people at the same time? It makes no sense.”

“Are you seriously asking me why I’m cynical about the foster system?”

Flynn winces.

“Look, a lot of people are good. Karol and Rita and Judy and Estelle, they’re good. The people who would have power over them if I backed down and let things happen, they’re shit-tier, awful people. This isn’t, like, commentary on humanity. These specific people suck.”

“So get some good people with power involved.”

“Like who?”

“Like—I don’t know, like Schwann. Why couldn’t you live with him for real?”

Yuri laughs, but it sounds a little hysterical. “Flynn, Schwann Oltorain is an alcoholic.”

“What? No.”

“I told you, Judy and I see him a lot at our bartending jobs. Too much.”

“That’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not. If it was, I’d let him take Karol. Karol likes Raven. But I think nihilistic drunk and childcare don’t really mix. So Karol stays with me until Judy can bully Raven into attending some AA meetings.”

“He never acts drunk or hungover at the clinic.”

“So what? A high-functioning alcoholic is still an alcoholic.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as—“

“Raven agrees with me.”

...There wasn’t really a way to argue with that.

“Can I... I just want to try to explain myself.”

“By all means.” Yuri crosses his arms.

“You’re... I know it’s been a long time since we talked, but you’re still my best friend, you know that? I get it if you don’t feel that way about me anymore, but... It just feels like you’re always taking the risky moves to protect everyone else and it keeps blowing up in your face, over and over again. And I do worry about you, I really, really do. And I respect that you want to help people, and I respect that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself in the process, but it feels like you take bigger risks than you need to, sometimes, and that freaks me out.”

Yuri sighs. “What’s the smaller risk I could be taking, here?”

“I’m not even talking about this specific problem, it’s just. In general. I’m more worried about the pattern. I don’t know, get the bigger apartment first before you adopt the kids?”

“If I left the kids where they were, they’d still be getting abused while I got my shit together,” Yuri says. The fight has gone out of him again, and he just looks tired. “Besides, they’re the ones who kept showing up. The whole reason we bothered to put the paperwork through was so we wouldn’t get charged with kidnapping.”

“Jesus, Yuri.”

“I’m flattered, but no, I’m still regular old Yuri Lowell.”

Flynn snorts despite himself. “There’s nothing regular about you.”

“I’m gonna pretend that’s a compliment.”

“Good, that’s how I meant it.”

“Uh-huh. Can we change the subject now?”

“Yeah, okay.” Flynn stirs his soup a little, eating a spoonful while he thinks. It’s gone lukewarm in the time he and Yuri were arguing. “New roommates, apartment shopping... Is anything else new with you?”

“Well,” Yuri says. He’s staring down into his coffee. “Estelle had me do some tests, and it turns out I’m dyslexic. Probably. So that’s something.”

Flynn feels his face fall as he processes the news. How many years did they go to school together? Twelve? Thirteen? And he never once guessed, none of the times Yuri complained that reading was just a confusing jumble of words, none of the times Flynn watched him sit down and force himself to read something two, three times before he could glean enough information from it to answer whatever questions he needed to.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” he says. He starts to reach across the table, then hesitates, then makes himself finish the action. His fingertips glance over Yuri’s wrist, just above his bracelet. Yuri’s eyes flick to his hand and stay there. “For—for not noticing, and for how hard that must—“

Yuri snorts. “Hard? It’s not like it’s doing me any harm now. I’m a dropout. You don’t exactly read all that much in the service industry.”

“Are you joking?” Flynn asks, incredulously. “Do you really think this had nothing to do with you dropping out?”

Yuri finally looks up at that, his mouth set in a grim mockery of a smile. “I mean, speaking as the one who dropped out, I’m pretty sure it was just because I blew my chance, man.”

“You’re impossible.”

Yuri shrugs. He’s done it so many times during this conversation that Flynn is starting to hate it a little bit. “Sure.”

“Can you take this seriously? Please, Yuri.”

“You used up all of my emotional honesty tokens on the last topic.”

“I really hate it when you do this.”

“Do what?”

“You get so flippant whenever you get fucked over. This is exactly why I worry about you. Would it kill you to let yourself be mad about it for once? To let me be mad for you for once?”

“If we get mad about the injustice of fate or the universe or whatever, we’ll never stop being mad. We’ll just burn out.”

“You’re already always mad.”

“Yeah, but sustainably.”

“...Elaborate.”

“I’m mad at societal systems, not the universe. We can do something to change societal systems. It’s productive anger.”

Flynn sighs, taking his hand away from Yuri’s arm to run it through his hair. As though societal systems have nothing to do with Yuri’s learning disorder and academic issues? Of course, Yuri never applies these things to himself. Somehow it only counts for other people. Flynn doesn’t know why it surprises him anymore. “Okay. Sure. Productive anger, I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m done with talking about myself,” Yuri says, abruptly. “What about you? What’s new with you? How’s vet school?”

“It’s good,” Flynn says, reflexively. It’s just Yuri. Flynn doesn’t need to persuade him that he deserves his place there. “Hard,” he admits after another beat. “It’s a lot to keep up with.”

“Yeah, it’s like... med school lite, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think that’s a very good way to describe it, but I haven’t been to med school, so I guess I don’t know. You would hate it, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s not really breaks, on a day-to-day level. And you start by covering anatomy with a lot of dissections.”

“...Ouch.” Yuri’s face twists into an uncomfortable moue. He always did hate dissections in high school. It’s cute, in a way, knowing that his big heart is behind it. Flynn doesn’t miss the discrete way he shifts in his seat, either, presumably bumping his legs against Repede to reassure himself. Repede makes a sleepy whuffling sound. “How about friends? Roommates? Hot dates?”

“No roommates,” Flynn says, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve got some study buddies from my classes, but we don’t do much together aside from classwork. It’s hard to have any kind of social life outside academia in vet school. Classes and labs and studying take up so much of my time... and now the clinic, too.”

Yuri flicks a piece of croissant at him. It lands in Flynn’s soup. This is the asshole Flynn is too hung up on to date other people. “If you’re that busy, you shouldn’t—“

“Don’t you dare tell me I shouldn’t be spending time with you,” Flynn warns him. It comes out a lot sharper than he means it to; Yuri’s eyes go wide. He won’t take it back, though, not when he can see in Yuri’s face that he guessed correctly. “Working with Schwann, and getting to see you again—it reminds me why I’m doing all this work, you know? And I have to know what you’re up to if I’m supposed to keep up.”

“You, keeping up with me?” Yuri snorts. “I think you’ve got that backwards.”

“You’re already helping people in the real world,” Flynn says. “I’m still in training.”

“You don’t exactly ignore people in need either, dude.”

“Take the damn compliment.”

“Oh my God, fine. Stop trying to kick me, you’re going to hit Repede.”

“You’re such a pain.”

“I’m a fucking delight,” Yuri says, solemnly, then breaks into a proud grin when Flynn throws his head back and laughs.  “Come on. You really haven’t made any friends at vet school? None?”

“The first year of vet school is hard!”

“Wow. That’s just sad.”

“I’m hoping to join some student organizations or sports clubs next semester, when I’ve got my feet under me.”

“...You think you’d go back to fencing?”

Flynn chews on his lip. “...I don’t know. It might feel wrong, without you and Coach Niren and the rest of the team.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you...”

“Still miss him?”

“Yeah.”

Yuri wordlessly holds up his wrist. Flynn doesn’t need further elaboration on the worn-down bracelet. He remembers just as well as Yuri when Niren passed the leather cords out to the team on the bus to a tournament. Hisca and Chastel taught them all how to do the braiding so that the bracelet size was adjustable. Yuri’s didn’t turn out half bad, but Flynn’s is lumpy and misshapen. It doesn’t adjust as much as it’s supposed to.

“I’ve still got mine, too,” Flynn says. He fishes it out of his pocket. His keys are connected to it. “We can’t have accessories during labs and I wouldn’t want to get all that junk on it anyway, so...”

Yuri smiles crookedly. “Yours will last longer than mine, then.”

“Maybe.” It’s already in better shape than Yuri’s. “You’ve got Repede, though.”

“Repede isn’t just a reminder of Coach and Lambert,” Yuri says, defensively. Repede stirs at their feet at the mention of his name. Flynn reaches over to pat Yuri’s arm in placation.

“I know, I know. Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“...You ended up with any pets of your own yet?”

“My current apartment doesn’t allow it... my lease is up soon, though. I’m hoping to move somewhere that lets me have a dog.” It would be hard, taking care of a dog and keeping up with vet school, but maybe it would help him with his work-life balance.

“Ha. We could do play-dates with your dog and Repede.”

Flynn feels his eyes crinkle up with his grin. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

They just smile at each other for a second. It’s still a little awkward, not quite as smooth as their conversations used to be, but Flynn already feels lighter than he has in months. Yuri looks a hundred times better than he did when he showed up. He nibbles at his croissant instead of just poking at it, and he’s relinquished his death grip on the coffee cup. Flynn opens his mouth to say something disgustingly sentimental—

And a loud beep makes them both jump about a foot in the air. Flynn forces himself to relax while Yuri curses and scrambles for his phone. Repede lurches into motion below the table, hackles raised. “Shit, sorry, I set a timer—goddamn, have we really been talking that long? I’m supposed to pick Rita up—“

“Oh, no, are you late?”

“Not yet, that’s what the timer’s for. Hey, do you need a ride anywhere? I can drop you off—”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to delay you—“

“You’ll delay me more by being wishy-washy. Yes or no, Flynn?”

“Yes,” Flynn says, firmly. “If you could drop me off at the clinic, that would be great. Where are you parked? I’ll bus our table while you get the car warmed up.”

Yuri waves a hand vaguely to the east and sprints off with Repede before Flynn can ask him to elaborate. Flynn rolls his eyes, but he still can’t wipe the silly grin off his face. Classic Yuri. They haven’t solved any of their problems yet, not for real, but maybe... maybe this time around, they’ve got a shot at it.