[Fortunately for everyone concerned, "a quick thing" really does wind up being a fairly quick jaunt for Balthus, in part because the distance is fairly minimal and in part because obviously he's got his reasons for moving fast, even with the remnants of last night's aggressive hangover and, of course, a blossoming black eye from where he absolutely punched himself in the face.
But luckily, he's able to make it to the classroom unscathed, and when he does the nature of his detour is revealed, because evidently he's decided to make up for the whole lack of financial liquidity business by stealing some violets from the greenhouse, free of charge.
A lesser man might've performed a sweeping courtly bow and presented them with a flourish upon his approach, but this is for Yuri, so rather than putting on airs, Balthus proceeds to just put...them on the table instead. Like a reasonable person.]
( By the time Balthus arrives at the underground classroom Yuri has finished what remained of his work, but has since fallen victim to a surge of nerves that appear to have taken advantage of the few minutes of silence. Is this a terrible mistake? Should they really be doing this? Doesn't Balthus deserve better than a guy who's spent the majority of their friendship lying to him?
It leaves him feeling jittery enough to waste a page of parchment on distracted doodling, but he quickly tosses the quill onto the desk before him when he hears footsteps approach from behind. Yuri twists, his heart in his throat as he looks at Balthus from over his shoulder: )
Hey there yourself.
( And ... oh, Goddess, he brought him flowers? He stares at them for a moment before getting to his feet, surprise evident in his expression as he glances up at him. )
... You're really going all out with this, aren't you.
( What was it Balthus had said? May as well commit 100%? Guilt wars with the strange, new sensation of being genuinely touched, and Yuri distracts himself by lifting the flowers to his nose to indulge in their pleasant fragrance. It isn't necessarily common knowledge that violets are his favourite flower, which begs the question: has Balthus really been paying that much attention to him for all this time?
Ignoring the way his ears burn as he lowers the flowers again, lilac eyes search out warm brown ones as his lips quirk into a smile. )
Thanks. They're beautiful, Balthus - I'll take good care of them.
[Let us all prayerhands for our man Balthus von Albrecht, who has bumblefucked his way not only into convincing the most anti-commitment man on earth to take a chance on him, but also on somehow picking the right flowers on sole virtue of "hey, these ones are purple". Goddess bless him.
But at least the walk had done him some good, as he'd spent it mulling over a handful of things that Yuri had pointed out over the course of their conversation. When did he get to thinking about his pal the way he's accustomed to thinking about women? Is it really something like true love, the kind of love that his mom and pops found with each other, that he thinks he's chasing here? Why take his shot now, before he's even come close to pulling his life together? And for that matter, is that the right direction to start heading at all, is trying to make something more of himself — or would it be better to just stay the same, because staying the same is familiar and comfortable already?
It's a lot of thinking. Certainly enough to start throwing gloomy shadows over anyone's mood.
But it all seems to vanish by the time he makes it to the classroom, because he steps in with his shoulders squared and his flowers starting to wilt in his fist, and it's like from the moment his gaze falls on Yuri sitting there, the whole complicated world turns real simple again.
That's just how it is, isn't it? And maybe that's just because, of the two of them, he's never the one getting neck-deep into complications like that. Yuri does complications like it's an art form, pulling strings here and there, crafting masterpieces from the shadows. Maybe he doesn't need to get hung up on complications because he knows Yuri's already doing it for the both of them.
Or maybe he just gets distracted because his good buddy's not exactly hard on the eyes. It could definitely be that, too.]
Hah, I just figured I'd make up a little for the other thing. You know.
[Saying "he figured" anything is a bold claim to begin with, but hey, an effort was made.]
So. You were saying something about shutting me up, weren't you? Well, here I am.
( And that's the thing: Yuri will always do the complications for them. He can't not — not when he's spent his entire life having to think in six directions at once, plan for the worst, then plan for the worst version of the worst — which conveniently lets Balthus off the hook for most of the heavy lifting pertaining to this. It's why his own nerves don't melt away upon seeing the other man, nor does he find them any easier to deal with—
Although right now he's finding they're accompanied by a flutter of warmth that makes it all seem somehow worthwhile.
... Anyway. An effort was made, and Yuri knows enough about Balthus to know that such an effort actually means something from him. This is a man who'll be the first to proclaim that his interests revolve around women, drinking, and punching things, so the idea that he rubbed his two braincells together and came up with 'violets for Yuri' is absolutely worth acknowledging. )
Yeah, well. Consider it made up for.
( Yuri scoffs lightly as he places the violets down on the table, before gesturing for Balthus to take a seat at the recently vacated bench. )
I'm gonna need you to take a seat for this to work work properly.
( For a few reasons, really, the first and foremost being that Yuri is significantly smaller than Balthus. As he'd quite like to be able to look him in the eye for this, he's going to have to bring the man down to his level — something he encourages with an easy smile and a playful little pat against the worn wood. )
C'mon. You know you wanna find out how I'll do it.
[Well, either that or he's walking directly into a trap, but all things considered even one of Yuri's traps will probably still wind up being a nice surprise in the long run. If this is a game they're going to play together, then it only stands to reason that Yuri is going to win; he usually does. That doesn't make it any less fun to go along for the ride, and see what happens on the way.
So, he heads over to the bench and drops himself down onto it, automatically leaning back with his elbows propped up and behind him on the edge of the table, his knees spread wide in the picture of casual reclining. It leaves him comfortable, even as he waits in anticipation; if Yuri wants him arranged differently from what he's defaulted to, he'll just move him, no harm, no foul.]
Anything else you want me to do, or don't do? Just let me know.
( A nice surprise, or ... kind of predictable? They'll soon see.
Yuri moves quick as a whip; Balthus need only blink and find himself with a lapful of his boss, one knee placed either side of his hips as his palms splay against his chest. It brings them much closer to eye-level than they'd been previously, which settles something in Yuri's chest, and makes it easier to get a proper read on that ridiculous, handsome face of his. )
Hm ... ( A hand lifts to cup Balthus' cheek, and the pad of his thumb skims his cheekbone as a frown pinches at his brow. ) You've really never tried anything with another guy before? Not even your old friend — Holst?
( Because the way Balthus talks about him, Yuri wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out they'd fooled around in their youth. It'd be encouraging, even, to know that there's at least some kind of precedent for what they're doing; a bit of insurance that Yuri isn't just going to end up a failed experiment for a friend. )
Handsome guy like you ... you'd have just had to flex those muscles and the boys would come running. Believe me, I know.
( He raises an eyebrow, his a curl of amusement touching his lips at his own tongue-in-cheek silliness. )
Edited (You know when ... words ....) 2021-04-09 11:07 (UTC)
[All right, so he's a dope more often than not, but it's true, it also doesn't take a genius to guess that Yuri's next play might be to get closer in a moment like this. Not that anybody could honestly claim to be ready for how fast Yuri can move when he tries, but once there's weight sinking down over his lap, it's pretty natural to wrap a thick arm around the small of his back, instinctively supporting him in place.
And it's nice. It's familiar, too. Women have done this at him before because they're usually smaller than him and he's usually a little drunk at the time anyway and it's always been cute when they do it, and Yuri's not a woman and right now he's sober but it turns out it's cute regardless.]
What's so different about it, really?
[There are probably at least a few things different about doing this with a guy versus doing it with a woman, but even so he finds it doesn't leave him feeling inexperienced so much as just working of a variant of an otherwise familiar situation. Yuri's still warm, and pleasantly heavy in his lap. Still feels good if he shifts his hips. Still feels nice to have someone touch his face with tenderness, too.
Of course, then the topic of his BEST BRO HOLST comes up, and he flusters.]
H-Hey, come on, asking about other guys like that, at a time like this...
[THEY WERE GUYS BEING DUDES THINGS HAPPEN WHEN GUYS ARE DUDES IT DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO HIM]
Anyway, seems to me I've been flexing 'em for a while now, but you sure took your time coming running...
( That arm around his waist is pleasant, to say the least. Balthus is strong — that much has always been obvious — but feeling that strength pressing warm against his body this is markedly different to witnessing it on the battlefield, and Yuri sighs softly as he lets himself settle more comfortably over his lap.
This is ... good. Nice. Easier than he thought he'd be, really, which is a revelation in itself.
Balthus' flustering gets a quiet little chuckle from Yuri, who decides to tuck that embarrassed response away to revisit another time: )
Hey, don't be surprised that I'm checking out the competition.
( He shakes his head, his smile just playful enough to suggest that he might not be entirely serious.
Might. )
You get why I didn't come running though, right? You made it pretty clear how much you love women — I figured if you liked men too, you'd have said something.
( A beat. )
And as your boss, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable around me. I still don't.
Heh. I guess I can see why you'd think that, about the competition. But you really don't have to worry.
[It's thought-provoking, though, to consider his feelings about Holst side-by-side with the ones he holds for Yuri. Equally strong? Of course. But, the more he thinks about it, the more he can pick out the nuances. Around Holst, the relationship is one of camaraderie, with a bond forged so invincibly that it's almost easy to take it for granted, like a part of nature. But when it comes to Yuri, there are...stakes. There's something to lose. If his bond with Holst is a game, then his rapport with Yuri is a wager — the dice roll higher, and he's a lot more cognizant of just what might get swept away with the pot if they don't roll in his favor.
It never really occurred to him, either — not until just now — that Yuri might've seen the wager the exact same way, just in the other direction.]
I guess wonders never cease, though. If even you can think you haven't got a shot with somebody, somehow, then there's really no hope for the rest of us.
[Almost curiously, testing the waters, he brings his hand up near Yuri's face — like he's going to rest it against his cheek, but for the fact that he keeps it hovering an inch or two away. Maybe he's trying to see if he'll get slapped for reaching out. This is still Yuri's game, after all, so he's got to play by his boss's rules.
Assuming he gets away with it, though — it's his thumb that ultimately makes contact, just against the edge of his lip, just enough to smudge his makeup the slightest fraction. Just to see if he's allowed the liberty...or the presumption.]
You won't. I'm comfortable. Except for the part where I'm holding my breath right now, waiting to see what you've got up your sleeve for me.
( The corners of Yuri's lips twitch into an indulgent little smirk as he lowers his voice to a gentle tease: )
Hey, worrying's what I do best, remember?
( ... It's a little strange, actually, to see Balthus' roll slowed by wariness of their situation. Yuri didn't imagine him incapable of softness (far from it, in fact) but he'd presumed him to have a more cavalier attitude towards physical intimacy — although he supposes there's a marked difference between what they're doing now and the flings in which they've indulged prior.
This has the potential to be so much more than a hot mistake.
Yuri tilts his head towards Balthus' palm as his fingertips touch his cheek, the gesture not dissimilar to that of a cat nudging a hand for more attention. No slap yet — no suggestion of displeasure, or a line unwittingly overstepped — and softness melts into Yuri's eyes beneath lowered lashes as he chases that little touch. )
Mm. I've gotta say, I kind of like knowing you're holding your breath ...
( Lipstick smudges, drawing rose-pink against the pale of his skin. Unperturbed, Yuri leans in closer until he can feel the warmth of Balthus' lips against his own, little more than a hair's breath of space between them as he strokes the line of that jaw with his fingertips. )
... Waiting.
( Soft lips catch against Balthus' so gently he wouldn't be blamed for missing it, and Yuri squeezes his thighs against his hips as if to soothe (or further infuriate?) him. )
How patient do you think you can be for me, friend?
[On the other hand, this is shaping up to be...unexpectedly hot, actually. Yuri's light and fast and a good foot shorter than him; even being on top of him like this, he's not really big or solid enough to pin him down properly, but it's also not as though he has to. That's the part that's really something, for Balthus in that moment — the discovery of the fact that he is held in place, but it's not from physical might so much as it is from something much more nebulous.
Nothing's stopping him from eliminating that fraction of space between them. Nothing's keeping him from raking a hand through Yuri's hair and catching him by the back of the head and kissing all the breath out of him, instead of staying still and holding his. But maybe the line between boss and bedmate can stand to...ah, be a little more blurry than it might've been otherwise. He's always preferred partners who aren't pushovers, anyway.]
Tell you what. You can do what you want with me —
[This close, it's impossible to ignore how the rest of the makeup Yuri wears really plays up the color of his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up in a crooked, rakish grin.]
( That grin catches Yuri's breath in the back of his throat. It's the kind of roguish expression that suggests the owner is trouble — but then Yuri knows trouble, knows Balthus, and knows that whatever bad boy tendencies he might have? They're going to work perfectly with his own. The realisation that they might actually be suited to one another pulls a chuckle to his lips, where it melts away between them before he speaks again. )
You wanna mess me up, huh?
( Yuri leans back just enough to slide a hand to the centre of Balthus' chest, the pads of his fingertips resting light against firm muscle as he feigns a moment of contemplation. )
Alright, but you should already know that I don't deal in half measures. If you say you're going to mess me up—
( This time when he leans in Yuri lets their lips connect. Kissing him is unexpectedly easy; he'd expected a flutter of nerves, perhaps, or even a stomach-deep clench of hesitance, but when Yuri's lips meet Balthus' it simply feels like coming home. His heartbeat jumps in his chest as he eases further onto his lap, his thighs spreading that bit wider until their bodies are pleasantly flush. When they part again Yuri's too-hot gaze drifts down to the curve of Balthus' lips — now smeared with a sheen of rose-pink that just barely catches the light.
It strokes at something unusually possessive deep within him, and lifts his lips in an easy smirk. )
[Kissing Yuri has got to be one of the best decisions he's ever made in his life, and Balthus isn't even sure he can claim credit for it happening in the first place. But if he can, then it was definitely a great decision — one that really only leaves him wondering why he never did something about it sooner. Think of all that time he'd wasted on not kissing Yuri when he could've been, y'know, kissing Yuri. A real damn shame, that's what it is.
But that just means he'll have to make up for lost time, doesn't it?
He's learned not to lick his lips after people with painted mouths kiss him, despite the instinct to run his tongue over whatever's left clinging to his lips in the aftermath. He keeps them parted instead, seeing how Yuri is examining his handiwork and unable to help admiring his own in return. It works out for both of them, maybe, like marking their own territory in these subtle ways: Yuri leaving lipstick on him, while he makes his own mark on the former perfection of Yuri's makeup.]
Knowing you, you'll be even prettier after I do.
[Is he allowed to call Yuri pretty, he wonders? Yuri is, objectively, but — well. If pretty isn't the right word, then he'll just run through his whole vocabulary until he finds the one that works.
With Yuri's weight shifted, keeping his arm around his back for support feels a little unnecessary, so he takes the opportunity to move his hands and grip him by the hips instead, fingers splayed into the slender narrows just above the jut of his hipbone.]
So you can bet on it. Can't have you thinking I'm not a man of my word.
Sorry this took a hot minute, Noct event kicked my ass!
( Yuri has a complicated relationship with praise. On the one hand he goes to great lengths to keep his appearance in tip-top condition: he's spent good coin on underground healers to ensure injuries never become scars, and he doesn't doubt that Balthus has seen for himself just how much of Yuri's chaotic clutter is made up of beauty treatments. His appearance has acted as both armour and weaponry in his attempts to navigate the world; men call him pretty, women call him darling, and Yuri tries not to roll his eyes as he pockets their coin.
It gives him a moment's pause when that word falls from Balthus' lips. Balthus isn't a noble snake, or an opportunistic merchant, or someone who thinks his worth is only skin-deep. This is a man who has followed him into battle without question — a man who Yuri knows he can trust with his life — and that little lick of praise melts liquid warmth into the very bottom of his stomach.
This is the first time in a long time that it's actually felt kind of nice. )
I guess there's only one way to find out.
( Not that there's ever been any doubt about Balthus' size, but his hands feel hot, large, and good when they settle there against Yuri's hips. It stirs something low in his gut that makes him feel oddly smug perched as he is across his lap: all those muscles, all that strength, and yet he's evidently doing his very best to remain on his best behaviour.
It's surprisingly endearing.
Yuri kisses him again, sultry this time, and lets his fingers slide through dark hair before settling splayed against the nape of his neck. )
Mm. C'mon, tough guy.
( Teeth glint through a feline grin as he leans around him to reach for his flowers, which he gently taps against Balthus' chest before lifting them to his nose again. Violets. Honestly, if this thing works out between them, Yuri will have to tease him relentlessly about how they were fated from the get-go. )
Take me to bed. Let's see if you really are a man of your word, or whether I'm gonna have to rethink all this.
Oh, I won't let you down. Actually, you got me thinking...
[There's a lot that's gotten him thinking, actually. Not the deep, headache-inducing thinking of trying to untangle complex problems rife with hidden implications, but a more natural, cause-and-effect kind of thinking that suits him well on a battlefield. And in that respect there's certainly a lot to think about, like the way Yuri's prolonged kiss and the implications of what's to come already have him getting hard beneath the comfortable pressure of Yuri's weight in his lap. There's the taste of color smudged across his lips, the faint scent of fresh-picked violets from nearby. Then there's Yuri playing the coquette game with him, batting his eyes, hiding sharp teeth behind an inviting smile, and somewhere around there it starts to really hit him:
Yuri's tough as nails, too. Not that he didn't know that before, but now he's starting to really recognize it in the context of sex, and that's it's own whole world of possibility.
And what all those possibilities and all that thinking eventually narrows down to is, Yuri's almost definitely going to kick his ass twenty different ways before tomorrow comes, and he's almost definitely going to relish all of them, and so it only stands to reason that if Yuri is deep trouble, then Balthus might as well have the fun of getting into trouble himself, before it inevitably comes back to bite him in the best possible way.
Like how, if he grasps hold and stands up, taking Yuri with him — not particularly difficult, even from a less than ideal point of leverage — that's going to put Yuri in his arms, held up by his strength alone, and without a particularly good foothold as a result.
Which is why he's starting to grin as he does it, hoisting them both up, but rather than starting the walk toward the dorms, he lingers a minute, supporting Yuri on one arm while the other dangles free. For the moment.]
Maybe I can't wait that long.
[And now his free hand comes up, hooking fingers beneath the fabric of Yuri's collar and nudging it out of the way enough that he can duck in and lave his tongue against the newly-bared skin of his throat before covering it with his gloss-slick lips instead.]
( Yuri clicks his tongue at thinking, if only because he has to somehow acknowledge their ongoing joke regarding Balthus putting his brain to use. This time, however, that's the full extent of the tease, in no small part because he's lifted onto his friend's hips a moment later as he rises to his feet. One arm drapes around Balthus' shoulders while his other hand curls over his bicep: )
Yeah?
( And if his reply seems a little breathless? Balthus would do well to keep it to himself. It's been a while since a guy hoisted him up with one arm, is all, and there's something utterly delicious about being held with such an effortless flex of strength. It makes Yuri want to kiss Balthus until his head spins with it — until he's weak in the knees and fraying around his edges — but all of a sudden there's a hot, slick tongue stroking the front of his throat and all of his plans just ...
Stutter.
Yuri tilts his head for that questing mouth, his own dick flushing with warmth as he crosses his ankles behind him. It gives him a little more leverage, and just a little more control where he'd otherwise be at Balthus' mercy, and he chuckles softly as he rolls his hips to grind himself against him. )
You really think I'd let you fuck me in this dusty old classroom?
( He would — he will, at some point in the future, but Balthus doesn't need to know he's that easy just yet. If he's already sussed it out? Well. He can keep that to himself, too. )
I'm kind of insulted, friend.
( For all the little chuckle that follows would suggest otherwise. )
[His chuckle rumbles somewhere in the vicinity of Yuri's neck, surrendering his con before it ever had the opportunity to become long. All the little erotic things Yuri does — the suddenly airy quality in his voice, the way he angles his head, the way his legs press in around Balthus's torso to claim an advantage where he'd previously had none, classic Yuri — come together in a cascade that goes straight to his dick, not that it needed any help getting interested to begin with.
So it looks like he's got an answer to the question of whether or not he's exclusively into women, then, huh, and the answer is a big resounding "nope". He's just as into it when it's Yuri writhing on him and pressing laughter close to his ear. He's actually probably more into it when it's Yuri than he's been for a lot of his partners, because they didn't come with that added layer of mattering like his boss does.
It's a little tempting to pull his lips back and set his teeth against Yuri's neck right now instead, to dance around the prospect of biting instead of kissing — but he'd never leave a mark without being invited to first, for all that the idea of being possessive is awfully attractive. He makes do with a compromise, sucking lightly at his neck in a suggestion of the same, but not hard enough to do damage.]
I'm just saying, you can't blame a guy for trying.
( A shiver rolls the length of Yuri's spine when those lips close over his throat. Part of him is reluctant to give Balthus the satisfaction of knowing the effect it has so easily — he should be making him work for it, not giving it away — but there are some things that can't be so easily disguised. Yuri's breath leaves him in a soft huff as he lifts a hand to Balthus's jaw, which he grabs tightly, before guiding his face up and away from his neck like he really is in trouble. )
Uh-huh.
( Amusement quirks Yuri's lips as he places his forefinger over Balthus's mouth. Here comes that trouble he's been worrying about. )
Well I hate to break it to you, but it's not happening.
( Yuri knows this guy. He knows that if given an inch there's a very real chance that he'll go ahead and take a mile, and Yuri doesn't want him to get too distracted by ideas of "trying." Experience has taught him that there's no better way to get he wants than by withholding what his partner wants — so if Balthus wants to taste him?
Balthus will have to wait.
An easy smirk settles on his lips as an eyebrow bumps up towards his hair: )
[Well, damn. Mark one down on the "things he didn't realize he was turned on by until just this moment" list — Yuri gripping him by the chin like an owner taking a misbehaving dog's muzzle in hand is...unexpectedly, uh, something, all right. Something enough that a stupid little noise rattles around in the back of his throat when he's pulled away and made to look at him, mouth still partly open from where he was interrupted in his work.
There's a rhythm to it, like a good and satisfying fight. He pushes, and Yuri pushes back. He acts out and Yuri wrests him back into place. He scores a point and Yuri scores one back. It's familiar — and even if he winds up on a losing streak, which he probably will in the end, it's not as though Balthus von Albrecht has ever let a pesky little losing streak get in the way of his playing.]
Well, aren't you bossy.
[But he starts walking anyway, because yes, he sure is going to carry Yuri through the corridors of Abyss balanced on his hip and hanging off him like a particularly determined koala, because it's nice and he likes it and nobody's actually going to see them but the risk of it is kind of fun anyway.]
All right, all right. Off to bed it is. I'll treat you right.
( Balthus thinks he's bossy, huh? Yuri just smirks, leaning up so that his lips brush against the shell of his friend's ear: )
Trust me: you don't know the half of it.
( But he might, by the end of the night.
Those lips skim down over Balthus's jaw to the hot skin of his neck as he moves them out onto Chrysalis Row. At this time of night there's usually only the guards to worry about: loyal rogues employed to make sure no-one sneaks down into the town below the surface. Yuri doesn't pay them a second thought as his teeth scrap over the front of his throat, where he sucks softly — gently, even — just to lean into the tease. )
So, what will "treating me right" look like?
( Sliding his tongue over his pulse point, Yuri cards his fingers through the hair at the back of Balthus's head the way he might stroke a favoured pet. He's confident enough that Balthus doesn't need help supporting him that he relaxes for the ride, his ankles still locked but his thighs softening enough that he slides an inch or two down towards his crotch. )
Are you gonna lay me out like a lady — kiss my ankles and worship my tits?
( But there's laughter in his voice, bright and amused, as he dips in to nip at the spot where Balthus's neck meets his shoulder. )
Or are you gonna beg me to let you put my face in the pillows and have me that way?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ashenputtel) wrote2021-04-04 06:21 pm
no subject
( It's a little bit funny ... this feeling inside ........ )
I almost wish you were here, just so I could shut you up myself.
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[ i'm sorry yuri this is what you've signed on for, this dumbass ]
only almost? 'cause i may not have all the gold, but distance is one thing i can easily fix.
no subject
Well then, you'd best get fixing. I'm finishing up some work in the classroom - fortunately there's no one else hanging around at this hour.
Join me?
no subject
no subject
Alright. I'll be here, whenever you're done.
no subject
But luckily, he's able to make it to the classroom unscathed, and when he does the nature of his detour is revealed, because evidently he's decided to make up for the whole lack of financial liquidity business by stealing some violets from the greenhouse, free of charge.
A lesser man might've performed a sweeping courtly bow and presented them with a flourish upon his approach, but this is for Yuri, so rather than putting on airs, Balthus proceeds to just put...them on the table instead. Like a reasonable person.]
Well, hey there.
no subject
( By the time Balthus arrives at the underground classroom Yuri has finished what remained of his work, but has since fallen victim to a surge of nerves that appear to have taken advantage of the few minutes of silence. Is this a terrible mistake? Should they really be doing this? Doesn't Balthus deserve better than a guy who's spent the majority of their friendship lying to him?
It leaves him feeling jittery enough to waste a page of parchment on distracted doodling, but he quickly tosses the quill onto the desk before him when he hears footsteps approach from behind. Yuri twists, his heart in his throat as he looks at Balthus from over his shoulder: )
Hey there yourself.
( And ... oh, Goddess, he brought him flowers? He stares at them for a moment before getting to his feet, surprise evident in his expression as he glances up at him. )
... You're really going all out with this, aren't you.
( What was it Balthus had said? May as well commit 100%? Guilt wars with the strange, new sensation of being genuinely touched, and Yuri distracts himself by lifting the flowers to his nose to indulge in their pleasant fragrance. It isn't necessarily common knowledge that violets are his favourite flower, which begs the question: has Balthus really been paying that much attention to him for all this time?
Ignoring the way his ears burn as he lowers the flowers again, lilac eyes search out warm brown ones as his lips quirk into a smile. )
Thanks. They're beautiful, Balthus - I'll take good care of them.
no subject
But at least the walk had done him some good, as he'd spent it mulling over a handful of things that Yuri had pointed out over the course of their conversation. When did he get to thinking about his pal the way he's accustomed to thinking about women? Is it really something like true love, the kind of love that his mom and pops found with each other, that he thinks he's chasing here? Why take his shot now, before he's even come close to pulling his life together? And for that matter, is that the right direction to start heading at all, is trying to make something more of himself — or would it be better to just stay the same, because staying the same is familiar and comfortable already?
It's a lot of thinking. Certainly enough to start throwing gloomy shadows over anyone's mood.
But it all seems to vanish by the time he makes it to the classroom, because he steps in with his shoulders squared and his flowers starting to wilt in his fist, and it's like from the moment his gaze falls on Yuri sitting there, the whole complicated world turns real simple again.
That's just how it is, isn't it? And maybe that's just because, of the two of them, he's never the one getting neck-deep into complications like that. Yuri does complications like it's an art form, pulling strings here and there, crafting masterpieces from the shadows. Maybe he doesn't need to get hung up on complications because he knows Yuri's already doing it for the both of them.
Or maybe he just gets distracted because his good buddy's not exactly hard on the eyes. It could definitely be that, too.]
Hah, I just figured I'd make up a little for the other thing. You know.
[Saying "he figured" anything is a bold claim to begin with, but hey, an effort was made.]
So. You were saying something about shutting me up, weren't you? Well, here I am.
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( And that's the thing: Yuri will always do the complications for them. He can't not — not when he's spent his entire life having to think in six directions at once, plan for the worst, then plan for the worst version of the worst — which conveniently lets Balthus off the hook for most of the heavy lifting pertaining to this. It's why his own nerves don't melt away upon seeing the other man, nor does he find them any easier to deal with—
Although right now he's finding they're accompanied by a flutter of warmth that makes it all seem somehow worthwhile.
... Anyway. An effort was made, and Yuri knows enough about Balthus to know that such an effort actually means something from him. This is a man who'll be the first to proclaim that his interests revolve around women, drinking, and punching things, so the idea that he rubbed his two braincells together and came up with 'violets for Yuri' is absolutely worth acknowledging. )
Yeah, well. Consider it made up for.
( Yuri scoffs lightly as he places the violets down on the table, before gesturing for Balthus to take a seat at the recently vacated bench. )
I'm gonna need you to take a seat for this to work work properly.
( For a few reasons, really, the first and foremost being that Yuri is significantly smaller than Balthus. As he'd quite like to be able to look him in the eye for this, he's going to have to bring the man down to his level — something he encourages with an easy smile and a playful little pat against the worn wood. )
C'mon. You know you wanna find out how I'll do it.
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[Well, either that or he's walking directly into a trap, but all things considered even one of Yuri's traps will probably still wind up being a nice surprise in the long run. If this is a game they're going to play together, then it only stands to reason that Yuri is going to win; he usually does. That doesn't make it any less fun to go along for the ride, and see what happens on the way.
So, he heads over to the bench and drops himself down onto it, automatically leaning back with his elbows propped up and behind him on the edge of the table, his knees spread wide in the picture of casual reclining. It leaves him comfortable, even as he waits in anticipation; if Yuri wants him arranged differently from what he's defaulted to, he'll just move him, no harm, no foul.]
Anything else you want me to do, or don't do? Just let me know.
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I always do, don't I?
( A nice surprise, or ... kind of predictable? They'll soon see.
Yuri moves quick as a whip; Balthus need only blink and find himself with a lapful of his boss, one knee placed either side of his hips as his palms splay against his chest. It brings them much closer to eye-level than they'd been previously, which settles something in Yuri's chest, and makes it easier to get a proper read on that ridiculous, handsome face of his. )
Hm ... ( A hand lifts to cup Balthus' cheek, and the pad of his thumb skims his cheekbone as a frown pinches at his brow. ) You've really never tried anything with another guy before? Not even your old friend — Holst?
( Because the way Balthus talks about him, Yuri wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out they'd fooled around in their youth. It'd be encouraging, even, to know that there's at least some kind of precedent for what they're doing; a bit of insurance that Yuri isn't just going to end up a failed experiment for a friend. )
Handsome guy like you ... you'd have just had to flex those muscles and the boys would come running. Believe me, I know.
( He raises an eyebrow, his a curl of amusement touching his lips at his own tongue-in-cheek silliness. )
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And it's nice. It's familiar, too. Women have done this at him before because they're usually smaller than him and he's usually a little drunk at the time anyway and it's always been cute when they do it, and Yuri's not a woman and right now he's sober but it turns out it's cute regardless.]
What's so different about it, really?
[There are probably at least a few things different about doing this with a guy versus doing it with a woman, but even so he finds it doesn't leave him feeling inexperienced so much as just working of a variant of an otherwise familiar situation. Yuri's still warm, and pleasantly heavy in his lap. Still feels good if he shifts his hips. Still feels nice to have someone touch his face with tenderness, too.
Of course, then the topic of his BEST BRO HOLST comes up, and he flusters.]
H-Hey, come on, asking about other guys like that, at a time like this...
[THEY WERE GUYS BEING DUDES THINGS HAPPEN WHEN GUYS ARE DUDES IT DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO HIM]
Anyway, seems to me I've been flexing 'em for a while now, but you sure took your time coming running...
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( That arm around his waist is pleasant, to say the least. Balthus is strong — that much has always been obvious — but feeling that strength pressing warm against his body this is markedly different to witnessing it on the battlefield, and Yuri sighs softly as he lets himself settle more comfortably over his lap.
This is ... good. Nice. Easier than he thought he'd be, really, which is a revelation in itself.
Balthus' flustering gets a quiet little chuckle from Yuri, who decides to tuck that embarrassed response away to revisit another time: )
Hey, don't be surprised that I'm checking out the competition.
( He shakes his head, his smile just playful enough to suggest that he might not be entirely serious.
Might. )
You get why I didn't come running though, right? You made it pretty clear how much you love women — I figured if you liked men too, you'd have said something.
( A beat. )
And as your boss, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable around me. I still don't.
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[It's thought-provoking, though, to consider his feelings about Holst side-by-side with the ones he holds for Yuri. Equally strong? Of course. But, the more he thinks about it, the more he can pick out the nuances. Around Holst, the relationship is one of camaraderie, with a bond forged so invincibly that it's almost easy to take it for granted, like a part of nature. But when it comes to Yuri, there are...stakes. There's something to lose. If his bond with Holst is a game, then his rapport with Yuri is a wager — the dice roll higher, and he's a lot more cognizant of just what might get swept away with the pot if they don't roll in his favor.
It never really occurred to him, either — not until just now — that Yuri might've seen the wager the exact same way, just in the other direction.]
I guess wonders never cease, though. If even you can think you haven't got a shot with somebody, somehow, then there's really no hope for the rest of us.
[Almost curiously, testing the waters, he brings his hand up near Yuri's face — like he's going to rest it against his cheek, but for the fact that he keeps it hovering an inch or two away. Maybe he's trying to see if he'll get slapped for reaching out. This is still Yuri's game, after all, so he's got to play by his boss's rules.
Assuming he gets away with it, though — it's his thumb that ultimately makes contact, just against the edge of his lip, just enough to smudge his makeup the slightest fraction. Just to see if he's allowed the liberty...or the presumption.]
You won't. I'm comfortable. Except for the part where I'm holding my breath right now, waiting to see what you've got up your sleeve for me.
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( The corners of Yuri's lips twitch into an indulgent little smirk as he lowers his voice to a gentle tease: )
Hey, worrying's what I do best, remember?
( ... It's a little strange, actually, to see Balthus' roll slowed by wariness of their situation. Yuri didn't imagine him incapable of softness (far from it, in fact) but he'd presumed him to have a more cavalier attitude towards physical intimacy — although he supposes there's a marked difference between what they're doing now and the flings in which they've indulged prior.
This has the potential to be so much more than a hot mistake.
Yuri tilts his head towards Balthus' palm as his fingertips touch his cheek, the gesture not dissimilar to that of a cat nudging a hand for more attention. No slap yet — no suggestion of displeasure, or a line unwittingly overstepped — and softness melts into Yuri's eyes beneath lowered lashes as he chases that little touch. )
Mm. I've gotta say, I kind of like knowing you're holding your breath ...
( Lipstick smudges, drawing rose-pink against the pale of his skin. Unperturbed, Yuri leans in closer until he can feel the warmth of Balthus' lips against his own, little more than a hair's breath of space between them as he strokes the line of that jaw with his fingertips. )
... Waiting.
( Soft lips catch against Balthus' so gently he wouldn't be blamed for missing it, and Yuri squeezes his thighs against his hips as if to soothe (or further infuriate?) him. )
How patient do you think you can be for me, friend?
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[On the other hand, this is shaping up to be...unexpectedly hot, actually. Yuri's light and fast and a good foot shorter than him; even being on top of him like this, he's not really big or solid enough to pin him down properly, but it's also not as though he has to. That's the part that's really something, for Balthus in that moment — the discovery of the fact that he is held in place, but it's not from physical might so much as it is from something much more nebulous.
Nothing's stopping him from eliminating that fraction of space between them. Nothing's keeping him from raking a hand through Yuri's hair and catching him by the back of the head and kissing all the breath out of him, instead of staying still and holding his. But maybe the line between boss and bedmate can stand to...ah, be a little more blurry than it might've been otherwise. He's always preferred partners who aren't pushovers, anyway.]
Tell you what. You can do what you want with me —
[This close, it's impossible to ignore how the rest of the makeup Yuri wears really plays up the color of his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up in a crooked, rakish grin.]
...so long as I get to mess you up, too.
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( That grin catches Yuri's breath in the back of his throat. It's the kind of roguish expression that suggests the owner is trouble — but then Yuri knows trouble, knows Balthus, and knows that whatever bad boy tendencies he might have? They're going to work perfectly with his own. The realisation that they might actually be suited to one another pulls a chuckle to his lips, where it melts away between them before he speaks again. )
You wanna mess me up, huh?
( Yuri leans back just enough to slide a hand to the centre of Balthus' chest, the pads of his fingertips resting light against firm muscle as he feigns a moment of contemplation. )
Alright, but you should already know that I don't deal in half measures. If you say you're going to mess me up—
( This time when he leans in Yuri lets their lips connect. Kissing him is unexpectedly easy; he'd expected a flutter of nerves, perhaps, or even a stomach-deep clench of hesitance, but when Yuri's lips meet Balthus' it simply feels like coming home. His heartbeat jumps in his chest as he eases further onto his lap, his thighs spreading that bit wider until their bodies are pleasantly flush. When they part again Yuri's too-hot gaze drifts down to the curve of Balthus' lips — now smeared with a sheen of rose-pink that just barely catches the light.
It strokes at something unusually possessive deep within him, and lifts his lips in an easy smirk. )
I expect to be messed up.
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But that just means he'll have to make up for lost time, doesn't it?
He's learned not to lick his lips after people with painted mouths kiss him, despite the instinct to run his tongue over whatever's left clinging to his lips in the aftermath. He keeps them parted instead, seeing how Yuri is examining his handiwork and unable to help admiring his own in return. It works out for both of them, maybe, like marking their own territory in these subtle ways: Yuri leaving lipstick on him, while he makes his own mark on the former perfection of Yuri's makeup.]
Knowing you, you'll be even prettier after I do.
[Is he allowed to call Yuri pretty, he wonders? Yuri is, objectively, but — well. If pretty isn't the right word, then he'll just run through his whole vocabulary until he finds the one that works.
With Yuri's weight shifted, keeping his arm around his back for support feels a little unnecessary, so he takes the opportunity to move his hands and grip him by the hips instead, fingers splayed into the slender narrows just above the jut of his hipbone.]
So you can bet on it. Can't have you thinking I'm not a man of my word.
Sorry this took a hot minute, Noct event kicked my ass!
( Yuri has a complicated relationship with praise. On the one hand he goes to great lengths to keep his appearance in tip-top condition: he's spent good coin on underground healers to ensure injuries never become scars, and he doesn't doubt that Balthus has seen for himself just how much of Yuri's chaotic clutter is made up of beauty treatments. His appearance has acted as both armour and weaponry in his attempts to navigate the world; men call him pretty, women call him darling, and Yuri tries not to roll his eyes as he pockets their coin.
It gives him a moment's pause when that word falls from Balthus' lips. Balthus isn't a noble snake, or an opportunistic merchant, or someone who thinks his worth is only skin-deep. This is a man who has followed him into battle without question — a man who Yuri knows he can trust with his life — and that little lick of praise melts liquid warmth into the very bottom of his stomach.
This is the first time in a long time that it's actually felt kind of nice. )
I guess there's only one way to find out.
( Not that there's ever been any doubt about Balthus' size, but his hands feel hot, large, and good when they settle there against Yuri's hips. It stirs something low in his gut that makes him feel oddly smug perched as he is across his lap: all those muscles, all that strength, and yet he's evidently doing his very best to remain on his best behaviour.
It's surprisingly endearing.
Yuri kisses him again, sultry this time, and lets his fingers slide through dark hair before settling splayed against the nape of his neck. )
Mm. C'mon, tough guy.
( Teeth glint through a feline grin as he leans around him to reach for his flowers, which he gently taps against Balthus' chest before lifting them to his nose again. Violets. Honestly, if this thing works out between them, Yuri will have to tease him relentlessly about how they were fated from the get-go. )
Take me to bed. Let's see if you really are a man of your word, or whether I'm gonna have to rethink all this.
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[There's a lot that's gotten him thinking, actually. Not the deep, headache-inducing thinking of trying to untangle complex problems rife with hidden implications, but a more natural, cause-and-effect kind of thinking that suits him well on a battlefield. And in that respect there's certainly a lot to think about, like the way Yuri's prolonged kiss and the implications of what's to come already have him getting hard beneath the comfortable pressure of Yuri's weight in his lap. There's the taste of color smudged across his lips, the faint scent of fresh-picked violets from nearby. Then there's Yuri playing the coquette game with him, batting his eyes, hiding sharp teeth behind an inviting smile, and somewhere around there it starts to really hit him:
Yuri's tough as nails, too. Not that he didn't know that before, but now he's starting to really recognize it in the context of sex, and that's it's own whole world of possibility.
And what all those possibilities and all that thinking eventually narrows down to is, Yuri's almost definitely going to kick his ass twenty different ways before tomorrow comes, and he's almost definitely going to relish all of them, and so it only stands to reason that if Yuri is deep trouble, then Balthus might as well have the fun of getting into trouble himself, before it inevitably comes back to bite him in the best possible way.
Like how, if he grasps hold and stands up, taking Yuri with him — not particularly difficult, even from a less than ideal point of leverage — that's going to put Yuri in his arms, held up by his strength alone, and without a particularly good foothold as a result.
Which is why he's starting to grin as he does it, hoisting them both up, but rather than starting the walk toward the dorms, he lingers a minute, supporting Yuri on one arm while the other dangles free. For the moment.]
Maybe I can't wait that long.
[And now his free hand comes up, hooking fingers beneath the fabric of Yuri's collar and nudging it out of the way enough that he can duck in and lave his tongue against the newly-bared skin of his throat before covering it with his gloss-slick lips instead.]
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( Yuri clicks his tongue at thinking, if only because he has to somehow acknowledge their ongoing joke regarding Balthus putting his brain to use. This time, however, that's the full extent of the tease, in no small part because he's lifted onto his friend's hips a moment later as he rises to his feet. One arm drapes around Balthus' shoulders while his other hand curls over his bicep: )
Yeah?
( And if his reply seems a little breathless? Balthus would do well to keep it to himself. It's been a while since a guy hoisted him up with one arm, is all, and there's something utterly delicious about being held with such an effortless flex of strength. It makes Yuri want to kiss Balthus until his head spins with it — until he's weak in the knees and fraying around his edges — but all of a sudden there's a hot, slick tongue stroking the front of his throat and all of his plans just ...
Stutter.
Yuri tilts his head for that questing mouth, his own dick flushing with warmth as he crosses his ankles behind him. It gives him a little more leverage, and just a little more control where he'd otherwise be at Balthus' mercy, and he chuckles softly as he rolls his hips to grind himself against him. )
You really think I'd let you fuck me in this dusty old classroom?
( He would — he will, at some point in the future, but Balthus doesn't need to know he's that easy just yet. If he's already sussed it out? Well. He can keep that to himself, too. )
I'm kind of insulted, friend.
( For all the little chuckle that follows would suggest otherwise. )
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[His chuckle rumbles somewhere in the vicinity of Yuri's neck, surrendering his con before it ever had the opportunity to become long. All the little erotic things Yuri does — the suddenly airy quality in his voice, the way he angles his head, the way his legs press in around Balthus's torso to claim an advantage where he'd previously had none, classic Yuri — come together in a cascade that goes straight to his dick, not that it needed any help getting interested to begin with.
So it looks like he's got an answer to the question of whether or not he's exclusively into women, then, huh, and the answer is a big resounding "nope". He's just as into it when it's Yuri writhing on him and pressing laughter close to his ear. He's actually probably more into it when it's Yuri than he's been for a lot of his partners, because they didn't come with that added layer of mattering like his boss does.
It's a little tempting to pull his lips back and set his teeth against Yuri's neck right now instead, to dance around the prospect of biting instead of kissing — but he'd never leave a mark without being invited to first, for all that the idea of being possessive is awfully attractive. He makes do with a compromise, sucking lightly at his neck in a suggestion of the same, but not hard enough to do damage.]
I'm just saying, you can't blame a guy for trying.
[He's going to get himself into so much trouble.]
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( A shiver rolls the length of Yuri's spine when those lips close over his throat. Part of him is reluctant to give Balthus the satisfaction of knowing the effect it has so easily — he should be making him work for it, not giving it away — but there are some things that can't be so easily disguised. Yuri's breath leaves him in a soft huff as he lifts a hand to Balthus's jaw, which he grabs tightly, before guiding his face up and away from his neck like he really is in trouble. )
Uh-huh.
( Amusement quirks Yuri's lips as he places his forefinger over Balthus's mouth. Here comes that trouble he's been worrying about. )
Well I hate to break it to you, but it's not happening.
( Yuri knows this guy. He knows that if given an inch there's a very real chance that he'll go ahead and take a mile, and Yuri doesn't want him to get too distracted by ideas of "trying." Experience has taught him that there's no better way to get he wants than by withholding what his partner wants — so if Balthus wants to taste him?
Balthus will have to wait.
An easy smirk settles on his lips as an eyebrow bumps up towards his hair: )
Dorm. Now.
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There's a rhythm to it, like a good and satisfying fight. He pushes, and Yuri pushes back. He acts out and Yuri wrests him back into place. He scores a point and Yuri scores one back. It's familiar — and even if he winds up on a losing streak, which he probably will in the end, it's not as though Balthus von Albrecht has ever let a pesky little losing streak get in the way of his playing.]
Well, aren't you bossy.
[But he starts walking anyway, because yes, he sure is going to carry Yuri through the corridors of Abyss balanced on his hip and hanging off him like a particularly determined koala, because it's nice and he likes it and nobody's actually going to see them but the risk of it is kind of fun anyway.]
All right, all right. Off to bed it is. I'll treat you right.
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( Balthus thinks he's bossy, huh? Yuri just smirks, leaning up so that his lips brush against the shell of his friend's ear: )
Trust me: you don't know the half of it.
( But he might, by the end of the night.
Those lips skim down over Balthus's jaw to the hot skin of his neck as he moves them out onto Chrysalis Row. At this time of night there's usually only the guards to worry about: loyal rogues employed to make sure no-one sneaks down into the town below the surface. Yuri doesn't pay them a second thought as his teeth scrap over the front of his throat, where he sucks softly — gently, even — just to lean into the tease. )
So, what will "treating me right" look like?
( Sliding his tongue over his pulse point, Yuri cards his fingers through the hair at the back of Balthus's head the way he might stroke a favoured pet. He's confident enough that Balthus doesn't need help supporting him that he relaxes for the ride, his ankles still locked but his thighs softening enough that he slides an inch or two down towards his crotch. )
Are you gonna lay me out like a lady — kiss my ankles and worship my tits?
( But there's laughter in his voice, bright and amused, as he dips in to nip at the spot where Balthus's neck meets his shoulder. )
Or are you gonna beg me to let you put my face in the pillows and have me that way?
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