#fluriweek2019

It happened more frequently than he would have liked, but he tried not to hold a grudge against Yuri for it all the same. It was already occasionally a point of contention between them. At a moment's notice, a date would be cut short, or sometimes canceled completely for Yuri's work. Well, calling it his work was a little misplaced. If anything, the work Yuri did at night was a departure from the running of the cafe during the day. His night work was something entirely different. After all, with the city of Zaphias crawling with more than its fair share of super villains, Yuri as his alter ego True Knight had his work cut out for him.

They had argued about it before, so even as this particular evening was cut short, Flynn knew there was no point. Yuri was going to do what he felt that he had to do.

Alone, with evening plans canceled, he drifted from one task to another. The dishes were washed, dried and put away. A movie buzzed in the background while he kept himself busy, although as the night grew on, there was really no point. He would have been better off simply going to bed. At the same time, though, he wanted to wait up for the message that let him know that everything on Yuri's end turned out okay, and that Flynn, as a police officer, would probably be dealing with the aftermath of paperwork in the morning. But tonight's message was long coming. It felt like the hours crawled. And so he paced until he heard the telltale sound of one of the windows in the living room being opened.

Flynn walked to meet him, but found himself stunned by the silhouette that was there, a silhouette that was not quite right.

Standing there, clad in waves of black feathers, with the glisten of satin clinging to his form, Yuri seemed to dominate the fire escape, casting a long black shadow into Flynn's apartment.

“What are you doing, Yuri?”

It wasn't that he didn't recognize the costume. It would have been impossible.

“I've found you out then, White Knight.” The smirk that stretched beneath the mask that Yuri wore stopped him cold. He stepped in, as gracefully as one could through a fire escape window, and turned, pressing Flynn against the wall in a smooth motion.

“Y-Yuri?” His voice stuttered, half fear, half excitement.

Havoc's pale hand cupped his face, and the kiss that came next was biting fury, so intense that Flynn felt his knees weaken. Their lips parted, and Flynn was left panting. But Yuri's teasing was no where near done.

“I've got you all alone now. No True Knight around to protect you. What sort of fun should I have with you?” The playful twinkle in Yuri's eyes was clear. Flynn could play at this game as well.

“It doesn't matter. I'll never give into you.”

“Never?” the hum of Yuri's voice made him shiver. The cat and mouse game they played was an exciting change of pace, and he found himself falling into the rhythm easily.

“Never.”

“Well, we'll have to see about that.”

With a lithe motion, Yuri pinned his hands above his head and leaned in, hot breath lingering on Flynn's neck.

“Even when I've got you like this?”

“This is nothing.”

The brush of Yuri's knee up between his legs told them both otherwise. Flynn inhaled sharply, but the sound ended as a moan as Yuri bit down on his neck, teeth in soft flesh. This little bit of role playing and he was already a mess.

“Still nothing?” He could hear the laughter in Yuri's voice, poorly masked beneath the affected tone he took for the role of the villain. “This certainly doesn't seem like nothing.”

He couldn't hold back the growl in his throat or the groans on his lips as Yuri continued, pressing closer, his teeth marking neck and throat and collarbone and chest. The pressure of Yuri against him was unbearably hot even for the little bit of contact between their bodies. He was already shivering with anticipation. But Yuri only, maddeningly, continued, the slightest press of his hips against Flynn's firing off sparks in his brain. The build was gradual, an unusual show of restraint from Yuri, always bright passion and hurriedness. Havoc was slower, methodical, and something about that only made Flynn want to rush forward. Burning blood pooled at the base of his spine and sweat beaded on his brow, and yet beneath the mask, Yuri seemed so cool, calm but intensely aware of what he was doing to Flynn. He seemed to relish that. Now that he was the one of the receiving end of the teasing, he knew just how frustrating it was.

Yuri's name came out from between his gritted teeth, and he stopped mid motion, pulling back and away from Flynn just when he thought he couldn't handle any more. It was almost a relief, although he was still a mess all the same, incomplete, hard, and shaking. But Yuri wasn't nearly done with him, and he knew it.

With a yank, Yuri tore open his shirt, sending buttons scattering across the room. A quick twist and Flynn's hands were bound to a curtain rod above his head.

“I'll make you beg.”

Yuri's smoky voice and bright eyes teased him as he dropped to his knees. How much longer before Flynn really was going to be begging? He was on the precipice all ready, but he knew that no amount of words was going to be the stopping point for Yuri. Not until his game was done. Although his brain was clouded with the pleasure and the need for release, he was enjoying the game just as much.

Fingertips danced over the buckle of his belt, not quite touching him even as he leaned into try the feel the slightest brush. The button next. One tooth at a time, the zipper next. And all he could do was stare down into Yuri's masked face and see that insufferable smirk. Finally, Yuri freed him from the uncomfortable tightness of his clothing and the rush of chilled air made him shiver. Mercifully, Yuri didn't leave him long. The warmth of his mouth drove off the cold and brought another wave of pleasure crashing against his brain.

With tongue and teeth and small, maddening motions, Yuri pushed against him, the bob of his head slow and teasing. Flynn stretched and strained, panting as Yuri dug his fingers into his hips, pulled and pressed down, digging circles into the flesh of his inner thighs. In a clearer moment, he would have been annoyed, but the building just beneath his skin was too distracting to think, too overwhelming to bear. He wanted all of Yuri in that moment, every last inch of him, to tease and taunt him the way he was being treated right now, to draw every little moan and breath out of him until he was just a quivering mess. He wanted to hold Yuri, to run his fingers through his hair, and grab and tug and lead him even the slightest bit, but his bound hands only heightened the sense of Yuri's chaotic control. He tensed, aching for release. The moment as right there. He could almost taste it. He wanted to beg.

The suddenness which pulled Yuri away brought him a moment of starting clarity, but no relief. Flynn sagged, feeling the curtain rod above him bend.

“Don't tell me you're close already.” Yuri looked up at him, chin resting on his abdomen. His hands were so tantalizingly close, making long strokes down the front of Flynn's thighs. “I'm not nearly done with you yet.”  

He head was nearly too muddled with pleasure to play along. But he tried between the hitches of breath in his throat. “You haven't gotten the best of me yet.”

“I love a challenge.” His fingers traced a feather path down the length of his cock and Flynn thought that would be the end of him. But Yuri knew just how to push his boundaries and when to stop.

With ease, Yuri loosened him from the wall, but his hands bound in the twist of fabric. Flynn didn't fight. As infuriating as the teasing was, the excitement of the moment had him just as invested. He let himself be led into the bedroom, and tossed onto the bed, putting up only the barest of a faux struggle when Yuri straddled him, and fastened the bonds to the headboard of the bed.

Yuri's teasing didn't end there. In the moment that they moved, Flynn had been able to pull back from the edge of orgasm, but he knew that wouldn't last. Not with the only thing separating them now that flimsy costume which did nothing to hide how eager Yuri's body was for the climax as well. Even if he hadn't been able to see it, he would have felt it when Yuri ground their hips together again, the friction of skin beneath smooth fabric making his eyes roll back in his head. He wanted more. So much more. And Yuri was only happy to oblige.

A swift motion send the body suit of Yuri's costume to the floor, although he kept the mask and feathered cloak, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. He reached over Flynn, their bodies barely touching as he dug through the nightstand drawer to produce a bottle of oil. He dribbled its contents onto his hand, and canted his hips up. Slick fingers delved into flesh, and the barest moan escaped Yuri's lips as he readied himself. If nothing else had brought Flynn to this moment, that sight of Yuri in only the feathers and the mask and the soft noises from his mouth would have been enough. Under the edge of the mask, he could almost see the faintest flush of Yuri's face.

“Do you want me?” he asked, voice thick with pleasure, still displaying himself for Flynn to see.

“Y-Yes.”

“That's what I thought.”

Every nerve ending in his body was on fire as Yuri took his cock in hand, slick fingers  drawing a moan out of him. Yuri didn't tease too much longer before settling on him, letting out a long, low groan of his own. There were no more words, only heavy, moaning breaths as Yuri moved himself in a rhythmic up and down, his fingernails raking down Flynn's abdomen. It was slow at first, his motions bearing a touch of the teasing that painted the evening. It wasn't long before that dissolved and his paced quickened, hips bobbing erratically as Yuri's own interest in keep up the game was being washed away by pleasure. Flynn arched to meet him and were there bodies met, sparks burst in his brain. Finally it was too much, his senses too overwhelmed to hold back any longer, and he climaxed. Yuri followed seconds later, riding him to his last.

They slumped into the covers of the bed together, both panting, nearly shaking. Yuri fumbled to untie him, a hoarse chuckle in his throat. Flynn wasn't sure what was so funny, but smiled for it all the same for the humor in the air between them. When his hands were finally free, he found the control he had set aside for the surprise role play and pulled Yuri back to him. A  dizzying flurry of kisses passed between them as they both calmed and then they were still.

“Have fun playing the villain again?” Flynn said when he managed to get his voice back. With a tug, he pulled Yuri's mask free of his face, and tossed it aside.

“The fun part was watching you squirm.”

“Havoc had me on the ropes there for a bit.”

“Does that mean you'd be up for another visit from our local super villain?” Yuri waggled his eye brows.

“Any time,” Flynn chuckled.