A/N: Aside from a quick warning about a tiny hint of lime at the end, I don't have much to say about this one. Hope you enjoy. =)

P.S. It was really weird writing this in the summer, even if Christmas in July is sort of a thing. Sort of a stupid thing, but a thing nonetheless.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

It had been threatening to rain all day, though the sky had yet to make good on that and the roads were still dry. The humidity added bite to the already freezing temperatures, however, and Flynn shivered in his long wool coat as he hurried up the stairs to his apartment. Shifting his grocery bags, he fumbled in one of his pockets for his keys, hands made a little clumsy in exchange for the warmth provided by his gloves.

Gloves would have been something good to include in his gift to Yuri, and he could have kicked himself for not having thought of it earlier. Normally, they didn't bother with presents except on birthdays, but this was going to be their first Christmas together. Maybe they weren't making a really big deal of the holiday, but they had a little two-foot tree sitting in the middle of their kitchen table, a string of lights around the sliding glass doors of their living room, and tomorrow, after he had finished spending Christmas Day with his mother, Flynn was looking forward to coming home and exchanging gifts with Yuri.

He opened the door and breathed in deep. Yuri had been baking for the past two days, and the scents of gingerbread and cookies mingled with the smell of fir. Their kitchen had been accumulating all sorts of sweets, from candied walnuts and peanut butter cookies, to caramel-drizzled popcorn balls and snickerdoodles. Some of it was destined to be taken to the volunteers working at the animal shelter during the holiday, but most of it would be going with Yuri to Estelle's Christmas party the next day. He had mock-threatened Flynn several times to keep his hands off, but both of them knew the sweets were safe.

Although a bit of that gingerbread wouldn't be unwelcome. And those meringues weren't bad.

The music playing from the kitchen shut off abruptly as he set his bags down on the table and began stripping away his cold weather gear: gloves, coat, and scarf. He'd been wearing a thick sweater, too, the fit snug over his turtleneck, and he heard Yuri wolf whistle as he pulled it off. Draping the layers over the back of a chair, he looked up to see Yuri grinning at him, not exactly the picture of holiday spirit in his black tee and jeans, but a welcome sight, nonetheless. He was holding a glass of cola in one hand with a candy cane hooked over the rim. Teasingly, he drew out the candy cane and curled his tongue over it as he slurped the soda off.

"Welcome back. Have fun running around in the cold?"

"Oh, loads. Make anything interesting while I was gone?"

Tinkling the ice in his glass, Yuri dropped the candy cane back in. "Just a peppermint rum and coke." He snorted when Flynn frowned. "Just kidding. Heaven forbid a little holiday spirits get into me."

"We're underage," Flynn reminded him. It didn't seem all that important at the moment. Yuri had tied his hair up into a messy bun, and something about that always struck Flynn as incredibly sexy. He watched Yuri's neck as he turned to go back into the kitchen, staring at thin tendrils of hair against white skin as he followed. When he caught up in front of the stove, he slipped his arms around Yuri's waist, mouth latching onto the back of his neck. He put a hint of teeth into the kiss, knowing it would make him shiver.

"Less than a year left," Yuri reminded him and, although Flynn was sure only one of them had actually abstained from alcohol as they waited to turn twenty one, that thought didn't particularly matter at the moment, either. Not when Yuri was leaning back against him, warmer by far than all the layers he'd wrapped himself in against the cold outside. Stray locks of hair tickled his face and he tasted sweetness on his tongue, smiling at the thought that Yuri was dusted with sugar just like one of his own recipes.

"I think you could use a wash." He tugged Yuri's collar down in order to kiss a little ways along his shoulder.

"I think you're going to be late to your mom's place."

Glancing up at the clock, Flynn groaned and buried his face in the crook of Yuri's neck. Christmas Eve traffic had slowed him down worse than he'd thought, and it probably wouldn't be getting better anytime soon. Even with his overnight bag packed and ready, Yuri was right. If he didn't get moving, he was going to be late.

Grabbing his sweater off the back of the chair, Flynn headed to his room to change. A turtleneck was not acceptable attire for Christmas Eve dinner with his mother. Behind him, Yuri called out about the flour he'd asked for, and Flynn heard the rustling of plastic bags.

"Beneath the marzipan. And don't eat that! It's going with me tonight."

He rifled through his closet, looking for something to wear. He had a pale, silvery dress shirt that his mother had taken a disliking to as it reminded her more and more of her graying hair. He pulled it out along with a midnight blue jacket and a pair of khakis. It wouldn't be nearly as warm as what he'd been wearing, but it would lessen the chill of his mother's disapproval. He put on a tie, as well, for good measure.

In the kitchen, the music started up again, something loud caught halfway between hard rock and heavy metal. The image of Yuri headbanging while kneading dough or rolling out cookies popped into his head, making him smile as he looked around for anything else he ought to be taking along. He really didn't feel like going back out, not when he could practically feel the weight of the icy rain barely held back by the clouds. Bad weather wasn't an acceptable excuse for breaking with tradition, though.

A small duffle bag sat by his door, packed with books, pens, and paper, a change of clothes for the morning, and his toiletries. His cell phone and wallet were safely tucked into his pockets. On his desk was the wrapped gift he'd gotten his mother, and he scooped it up along with the duffle and turned out the light.

In the kitchen, Yuri had moved on from baking to cleaning up and was scrubbing industriously at a pot. Flynn resisted the urge to go over and lean on him and ask for an excuse to stay a few more minutes. Instead, he picked up his scarf and wound it back around his neck. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the music.

"I'm on my way out. I should be back tomorrow in time for dinner."

"'Kay. I'll save you some peppermint bark." Yuri flashed him a quick smile as Flynn wrinkled his nose.

"Say 'hi' to Estelle for me."

"Will do."

He'd been half-hoping that Yuri would be in the mood to chat, or need something else from the store, but it seemed there wouldn't be any further delays. He put on his coat and picked up his things. For a moment, he stared at the small box of marzipan, wondering when he had started to feel like a guest when he went back to the house he'd grown up in. Hovering near the door, he watched Yuri bobbing a little to the beat of the drums as he washed, oblivious to Flynn's hesitation. There was really nothing for it but to go and hope things went better than they had last year. He opened the door and stepped out into the damp, clinging cold.

In the parking lot, everything he saw seemed to be fading to grayscale, the color leeched away by the coming storm and falling temperature. It didn't improve his mood, and he sighed as he arranged everything on the passenger seat before walking around the car and getting in. He slid the key into the ignition and sat back in his seat. Sometimes, having to do the right thing really sucked.

It shouldn't be such a chore to visit his mother for the holiday. He saw her nearly every weekend, so why should one extra visit feel so taxing? It wasn't as if she even paid him much mind. Christmas Eve for her was simply one more chance to rub elbows with her social circle over a catered dinner. She probably wouldn't even have a chance to miss him during her soiree. These days, she seemed to use his status as her son as a sort of accessory, putting on the mantle of motherhood when it suited her, and leaving him tucked away in his apartment the rest of the time. Even their Sunday lunches were secondary to whatever else was on her schedule, and subject to being cut short without notice.

Would it really be so bad to switch his plans around this year? To spend Christmas Eve and the morning after with Yuri, and then have dinner with his mother on Christmas Day?

He pulled out his phone and sat staring at it. It felt almost like a betrayal, but his mother had people coming over to spend the evening with. Yuri would be by himself again if Flynn left, and that just didn't sit right. He hadn't given it much thought before they had moved in together, but when was the last time Yuri had spent Christmas Eve in good company? He was practically family, and had been for years. The two of them ought to have dinner together—Yuri had been baking all day, so they could go out to give him a break—maybe ride around afterwards to look at the lights. They'd get home late and keep each other warm on a cold winter night.

|Sorry, Mom. I can't make it to dinner tonight. Something came up. I'll see you tomorrow, instead.|

He sent the text and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, a smile spreading across his face as he hurried out of the car. Even the sharp iciness of a few scattered drops of rain on his face wasn't anywhere near enough to dim his sudden enthusiasm. He raced back up the stairs, shoes drawing creaky protests from the old wood. Again, he fumbled his keys trying to get in, though from excitement rather than the thickness of his gloves. At the sound of the door, Yuri didn't even poke his head out of the kitchen, probably just assuming he'd forgotten something. With the radio blaring and the water rushing from the faucet, it was the easiest thing in the world to sneak up on him. Grinning, Flynn spun him around, sending sudsy water from the bowl he'd been washing splattering across the floor. The candy cane from Yuri's soda was sticking out of his mouth, his lips puckered around it.

"Let's go out."

The candy cane bobbed as he maneuvered it to the corner of his mouth. "Huh?"

"I want to go out. With you. Tonight."

"Don't you usually spend Christmas Eve with your mom?"

"I think it's time to start a new tradition."

"What brought this on?" There was suspicion in his expression, in the tilt of his chin, but there was also a smile tugging at his lips.

In answer, Flynn kissed him, ignoring the peppermint-flavored stickiness and slipping his hands over Yuri's where they still held the bowl.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked as he eased back. He licked his lips and watched Yuri grin as he crunched down on the end of the candy cane. The crook waggled as he chewed.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," he said, turning back to the dishes awaiting his attention, "but I was planning on just hanging around here tonight—after I deliver some of this stuff to the shelter, of course."

"Please?" Flynn kissed the back of his neck. "My treat."

Yuri elbowed him in the ribs. "Not the point. Being lazy is my tradition. Why should I have to change my plans because you cancelled yours?"

He sounded serious, which usually meant that there wasn't much Flynn could do to change his mind. There was, however, one surefire way to at least give him a chance against Yuri's stubbornness.

Smirking, he slipped a leg in between Yuri's and knocked him off-balance. Caught unaware, Yuri would have gone crashing straight down had Flynn not braced his fall. He didn't want him hurt, after all. He only wanted to annoy him enough to get him to agree to a match. With Yuri half in his arms and half on the floor, Flynn leaned over him, grinning cheerfully.

"Fight you for your evening."

The glare Yuri shot him as he squirmed his way loose was withering, and he dropped a few inches to land with a thud on the linoleum.

"Go move the table, jerkoff, so I can kick your ass before I finish the dishes."

Humming "Deck the Halls," Flynn once more slipped off his coat and scarf and hung them over the back of a chair. He stripped down to his undershirt and stepped out of his shoes as he stretched. It wasn't going to get as interesting as the sparring matches they had in their judo class, but there wasn't really any reason to get serious over such simple stakes. Picking up the coffee table, he set it in front of the sliding glass doors. That was when Yuri hooked an arm around his neck and got the fight started.

While Flynn had been careful in the kitchen, Yuri had no qualms about being rough and had him on the floor in no time. Usually, their living room bouts involved a little more grappling before they lost their footing, but for once, Yuri wasn't trying to draw things out. He aimed an elbow at Flynn's gut, and only a quick roll to the side kept the blow from landing painfully. They dissolved into a chaotic flurry of movement, struggling to get away and get a grip and pin each other down. Every now and again, he would catch a flash of Yuri's grin, bright and sharp. It kept him from worrying that he should have left well enough alone, and he threw his all into the fight. As long as Yuri was enjoying himself, it was fine. A free night for him was a rare prize for both of them, and he didn't want to waste it.

Though Flynn had a slight edge in terms of strength, Yuri was just that little bit quicker. He managed to slip around and get his arms up under Flynn's from behind with a triumphant shout. Some of his hair had gotten tangled in the mix, and Flynn grabbed it and pulled, looking for some leverage to make him let go. So far as he knew, there was only one activity during which Yuri liked having his hair pulled, and fighting wasn't it. He yelped and twisted, trying to get free.

"No hair pulling!"

Flynn didn't get a second warning. When he didn't comply immediately, he felt teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of his neck. The sensation made him gasp—Yuri didn't usually bite him during fights—and he flinched, knocking the back of his head against Yuri's. There was a soft groan from behind him, and suddenly his arms were free. Yuri punched him in the side and tackled him as he tried to turn around.

The fight wasn't going to last much longer. Once they hit the point where they were rolling across the floor in a thrashing tangle of limbs, it was only a matter of time before Flynn got a grip and pinned Yuri down—which wasn't to say he wouldn't take a few good hits before it was over. The heel of Yuri's palm connected solidly with his cheekbone, nearly knocking him away, and he was certain that he would be spotted with bruises in no time. It was easily worth it, and when he managed to wrap Yuri up in a bear hug of a hold and settle heavily on top of him, the victory brought an enormous grin to his face.

"I win."

Yuri was still struggling, jerking to either side or trying to wriggle his way out of Flynn's grip. It wasn't going to work, and it only took him a minute or so to realize it. He went still but didn't relax, annoyance warring with amusement in his smirk.

"All right, all right. I get it. You gonna let me up?"

"I don't know," he said, pretending to consider the question. "I'm kind of comfortable here."

There was a glint in Yuri's eyes that promised retribution later if he kept at it, so he gave up teasing and got carefully to his feet. Even as Yuri was picking himself up, Flynn reached out a hand.

"Are you all right?"

"You always ask me that."

He ignored the helping hand and turned away, heading back to his kitchen. He was probably perfectly fine. Neither of them had been fighting completely seriously, and Yuri wasn't the delicate type by any stretch of the imagination. Still, Flynn caught him rubbing his left wrist, and he remembered that their skulls had knocked together pretty solidly. On his way into the kitchen, Yuri gave him a point on their scoreboard, and Flynn leaned up against the wall next to it, watching him as he went back to the sink to finish the dishes. If Yuri was anything more than bruised, his movements didn't show it, and Flynn relaxed a little.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Where do you want to go for dinner?"

"There's this place called the fridge. It's a little small, but it's got a great selection."

"Yuri."

"Just kidding. Jeez." He looked back over his shoulder as he scrubbed. "I've gotta take some of this down to the shelter before we get food, and most restaurants will be closing early tonight. Dragon's Palace will be open, though. You in the mood for Chinese?"

"That sounds wonderful. Should I make a reservation?"

He'd turned away as soon as Flynn had agreed. "They won't be all that busy."

"All right. Is there anything I can do to help, then?"

"Yeah, sure. Go through those tubs on the counter and put a little from each into a plastic bag. I need two popcorn balls plastic wrapped, and tin foil on those pumpkin bread loaves."

"You made pumpkin bread?" How had he missed that?

"Just this morning, while you were out last minute shopping. I made an extra one for us."

"You're too good to me."

"Yeah, yeah. Just be glad I'm too lazy to go shopping for real presents for people."

As he began wrapping up treats according to Yuri's instructions, Flynn had the futile wish that he wouldn't talk like that. He knew well enough that Yuri cared about his friends, and that his baked gifts weren't about saving time or money. Yuri had grown up baking holiday gift baskets with his grandmother. Carrying on the tradition was one way he honored her memory, whether he would admit it or not.

Working in silence, the two of them got the kitchen set to rights and the goody bags packed. While Flynn donned his shirt and winter-wear once more, Yuri carefully tucked all the little baggies going to the shelter into a plastic grocery bag. He even had a little package of dog treats with Repede's name on the gift tag to include. With all that ready, he went to go get dressed. For him, that translated into beating the flour off of his t-shirt and pulling on a bright red hoodie with the shelter's logo on the back, a leftover from last year's donation drive.

"It's pretty chilly out. Are you sure you don't want another layer?"

"You'll keep me warm, right?"

The smile he wore as he stepped in close to help with Flynn's scarf was not suggestive of any sort of warmth-sharing activity that ought to be carried out in public. Flynn shook his head, unable to hold back a smile of his own. Tonight wasn't about that sort of thing. He just wanted to spend Christmas Eve together with Yuri. In one way or another, they'd both been spending it alone for years. It was time that changed.

"Ready to go?"

"Sure."

For someone who had been set on staying in for the evening, he was quick out the door and seemed in decently high spirits as he jogged down the steps. Flynn locked up and followed him, watching as Yuri paused at the bottom of the stairs, breath issuing in wet, white clouds as he looked out over the parking lot. The light escaping from behind the gray clouds overhead was strange, clear and dim at the same time, and not even the bright red of Yuri's hoodie was spared its dulling effect. Beyond him, sat row upon row of cars, empty and bleak. Their windows and windshields reflected the world in stark black and white, pale sky past shadowy light posts and the looming apartment complex.

The cold numbed his ears before they were off the sidewalk, and he could feel it reaching through his dress shirt and undershirt, pressing up against him and spreading over his skin in waves of goose bumps. Yuri zipped up his hoodie almost to his chin—something nearly unheard of for him—and shoved his free hand into his pocket. When he turned back, his eyes were the brightest things in the parking lot, two points of shining cheer in the glum afternoon.

"Quit dragging your feet. I've got people waiting on me."

"I thought you didn't like cold weather. What's got you so excited all of a sudden?"

"You are going to meet Repede."

Flynn knew of Repede, of course. The dog had been just a puppy back when Yuri began working at the shelter, and the two of them had apparently taken an instant liking to each other. Yuri talked about Repede like he was another human friend, and Flynn had caught him scheming about ways to hide pets from the managers of their apartment too many times to count. Being able to bring Repede home would have meant the world to him, but the complex they lived in didn't allow pets, and there was nowhere nearby that was pet-friendly, affordable, and had openings. If that changed, Flynn was sure Yuri would be packing them up to move in a heartbeat.

As he slid into his seat, he watched Yuri transferring the overnight duffel and boxes of gifts to the backseat. There was excitement in the way he moved and in the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and Flynn couldn't help thinking that it was sort of cute how much Yuri was looking forward to introducing him to someone he considered a friend. He couldn't hold back his grin over it as Yuri got into the car, moving Flynn's tossed-aside phone into a cup holder.

"What?" Yuri demanded. His smile had gone crooked, and maybe he thought it was a little silly to be so eager, because the question sounded almost like a challenge, like he was daring Flynn to tease him over it.

"Nothing."

He couldn't dim his grin though, and Yuri was staring at him and probably wouldn't particularly like hearing what had him so amused. 'Cute' wasn't normally a word that could be applied to him, after all. Flynn put the car in reverse, very carefully watching the empty parking lot behind him so that he wouldn't have to meet Yuri's eyes.

"I'm waiting."

"I'm driving, so you have to promise that you won't hit me."

"Fine. What's so funny?"

"Sometimes, you can be surprisingly cute." When he pulled up to the stop sign at the exit from the lot, Yuri punched his arm. He'd pretty much been expecting it. "You promised you wouldn't do that."

"You aren't driving, you're stopped. Ass."

Yuri was smiling as he slumped down in his seat, and his hand was curled loosely on the center console, practically an invitation. As he pulled out onto the road, Flynn let one hand fall from the wheel to settle over Yuri's, twining their fingers together. A little squeeze and a tiny smile in profile were all he needed in response.

It didn't take them long to reach the shelter, and Yuri was unbuckling and trying to grab the food and climb out of the car practically before Flynn had the key out of the ignition. He wished that, just once, Yuri would wait for him when they went someplace together. Pointing out his habit of rushing ahead had failed to effect a change in his behavior, however, so Flynn had had to let it go. He knew Yuri didn't mean anything by it, that he just wasn't the type to sit still for long. It was just a little thing, anyway, nothing too important, really, and he put it out of his mind as he watched Yuri disappear into the shelter several steps ahead.

Pausing on the sidewalk, he looked up at the sky. He'd thought he felt a drop of rain hit his hair. Reflexively, he held out a hand, though he wouldn't have felt anything through his gloves. There had been a bit of drizzle as they'd started out, but even that hadn't lasted long. The clouds were getting darker and, even though it was still only mid-afternoon, the sun would be setting soon, taking with it what little light and warmth penetrated the gathering storm. They were in for a dark, cold, wet night, and Flynn hoped they could make it to dinner and get back before the worst of it started.

The shelter smelled of animals, disinfectant, and soap, an unpleasant combination that would cling to Yuri after a day spent volunteering. There was no one in sight when he walked into the reception area, and the place was strangely quiet, despite the muffled noises of the residents coming from one of the back rooms. He was alone in a small waiting room, facing a counter with a receptionist's seat that had been pushed back and left sitting crookedly a couple feet from the desk. There was one other door which led further into the shelter, and Flynn opened it and looked through. Beyond were half a dozen more doors in total, all closed save the one at the far end of the hallway through which he could see a few empty cages. He could hear the animals more clearly, and the smell of the place hung heavy in the air. There were still no signs of people.

"Yuri?" He took a couple steps down the hall, not sure if he was allowed to be back there. "Hello?"

He heard footsteps a few seconds before a woman wearing scrubs decorated with little dogs in Santa hats emerged from the far door, walking briskly toward him.

"I'm sorry, but we aren't open for business today."

"No, I came with Yuri. He was bringing by some food."

She frowned a little. "Yuri's here? Becky will have taken him to see Repede, then. Poor thing."

Opening up a door on the left, she motioned him through. Inside, the walls were lined with cabinets and old posters about pet health: shots, ticks, and dietary advisements. There was a metal-topped examining table in the center of the room, the bag of Christmas treats forgotten atop it. Behind that, Flynn could see Yuri kneeling near a corner, the red of his hoodie a bright splash of color against the drab gray-green paint. Another woman was next to him—Becky, presumably—her scrubs patterned with cartoon cats tangled in Christmas lights. As Flynn came around the table, he saw what they were focused so intently on.

A large dog lay nearly motionless on a thick pile of blankets, its fur stirring with shallow breaths as Yuri gently stroked its paw. Fresh bandages were wrapped around its head, completely covering its left eye.

Flynn knelt down next to Yuri. That had to be Repede. Bracing his hands on his knees, he leaned forward a little more, trying to get a good look at Yuri's face. Softly, he asked: "What happened?"

"Wolf, one of the dogs that came in recently, is pretty bad tempered. He got loose when Becky was taking him out to clean his cage. Dina had Repede out, so he was able to keep Wolf from hurting her, but…."

"He lost the eye," Becky said quietly. One of her hands was resting on Yuri's shoulder, the other was stroking gently along Repede's side. "Aside from that, he ought to be all right, but we're waiting for the anesthetic to wear off. We'll know better what sort of shape he's in once it does."

"Sorry, Flynn," Yuri muttered. "I need to stay till he wakes up. If you want to go home, I can call you when—"

"No, it's fine. I understand." He knew Repede was important to Yuri. Whatever plans they had could wait until he was reassured that the dog would be all right. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Becky smiled tiredly. "Do you know how to fix a broken coffee maker?"

"No, but I know where the nearest coffee shop is."

He got orders from the women and headed back out into the cold. Yuri barely seemed to notice when he left, and Flynn tried not to think about the troubled look in his eyes as he sped along the slowly emptying roads. He barely made it to the coffee shop before it closed, and he ordered something for Yuri as well, something he knew he would like, as much cocoa as coffee, loaded up as it was with chocolate and cream. He wasn't sure what else he could do to make things better.

He was back at the shelter less than twenty minutes after he'd left. Dina was waiting to let him in and lock the door behind him. They took the drinks to the room where Repede still slept, and the four of them sat down on the floor around the bag of baked goods. Yuri and the women talked between mouthfuls, recounting stories about Repede and the other animals, and even some of the people they'd dealt with. Most of their recollections were funny, but there was a strained sense of anticipation over the conversation, and with every lull, all eyes would turn to Repede. At some point, Yuri wound up leaning heavily against Flynn and, though he did notice surprise in the looks they got from Becky and Dina, neither of the women questioned him about their relationship, not even when he slipped an arm around Yuri's shoulders.

They waited for nearly two hours before Repede began showing signs of waking. Yuri was across the floor and beside him at the first twitch of his paws, one hand on the dog's shoulder as he watched anxiously and murmured to him variations of 'Good boy' and 'Easy there,' over and over. By the time he'd come around enough to be feeling the effects of his injury, Dina and Becky were moving in to check on him, edging Yuri out of the way from where he'd been trying to keep Repede from pawing at the bandages. He hovered behind them while Flynn busied himself cleaning up the food and coffee cups. Finally, Dina patted Repede carefully and stood up.

"He's coming out of it just fine. I gave him something to help with the pain, but I think he'll be all right."

"Good, strong boy," Becky cooed. Next to her, Yuri knelt once more by Repede, offering him a hand to sniff. His smile when the dog weakly licked his fingers was immensely relieved.

They stayed for a little longer after that until Dina practically chased Yuri out of the shelter with assurances that she and Becky had the situation under control and that there was nothing more he could accomplish by hanging around. The next day, she would be in again to feed the animals and check on things, and Yuri would be more than welcome to come back and see how Repede was doing then. She made sure to thank him for the food and to pay Flynn back for the coffee before ushering them both out the door.

The storm had finally broken while they were inside, and they dashed through the light fall of freezing rain to get to the car. Running a hand over his face, Yuri slumped in his seat with a sigh. He looked worn out.

"Would you rather just go home?"

"Hm? No. You won. Let's go get food." He buckled up and offered a wan smile. "I'm getting pretty hungry, anyway."

Although Repede would be okay, the situation was out of their hands. There wasn't even much that he could do for Yuri except try to take his mind off it and maybe get some good, hot food into him. They'd both probably feel better after some dinner, and Flynn's stomach agreed with that plan as he started up his car.

The Dragon's Palace was across town and, although the most direct route would take them through the city, Flynn chose to go the back way, following little streets through neighborhoods and past parks and small businesses. As they passed the first of the houses where the lights of a Christmas tree shone from inside, Flynn spoke softly into the quiet that had fallen between them.

"Yuri's side."

He had been looking out his window, maybe watching the rain-blurred world pass by, maybe just staring into space, but the turned to Flynn at that, confused. "Huh?"

"Do you remember when we were kids and Dad would take us to see the holiday light shows? When we drove back afterward, we'd play Spot the Lights, and we'd call out—"

"My side," he finished. He smiled a little and looked out at the road in front of them. "Flynn's side."

On the driver's side, they passed by a house with multicolored lights twinkling down the railings of the porch and sparkling in every drop of rain collected by the windshield. A glowing snowman waved to them as they drove by. They settled in for the ride, only speaking to point out displays of Christmas cheer, be they as extravagant as an entire yard decked out in lights and figures, or as simple as candles glowing softly in windows. Flynn's favorites were the houses where he could pick out the outline of a Christmas tree lit up within. The sight of that familiar shape filled him with a warm nostalgia and memories of childhood: a bushy fir filling their house with its scent, decorating the tree with his parents while seasonal music played in the background, waking up Christmas morning to find a full stocking on his pillow and presents waiting under the tree. His childhood traditions seemed to emanate from those homes filled with happy families, turning them into points of love and light in the darkness and making the whole world seem less cold. He wondered what Yuri thought about them: if he could sense that warmth as well, or if he just thought the lights were pretty, or if he thought the whole thing was cheesy.

They left the last of the neighborhoods behind and Yuri turned back to his own window. Perhaps he was only imagining it, but Flynn thought he could see disappointment in the way his shoulders slumped. Maybe they could go look at lights again another night. Many of the houses in the area would keep them up until New Year's, anyway.

Just as Yuri had promised, Dragon's Palace wasn't busy. For being one of the few restaurants that stayed open on Christmas Eve, it was practically dead. They had a plastic wreath on the door and some lighted pine garland around the hostess stand, but aside from that, it hardly seemed like the holidays inside. Then again, it didn't really seem like the holidays outside, either. Yuri had stripped off his hoodie just inside the door. The rain soaking into the hood and shoulders had turned patches of it a deeper red, and had even seeped through to dampen Yuri's t-shirt in places.

A waitress showed them to a booth and gave them menus. Flynn ordered a pot of hot tea, perfect for the weather, and folded his coat and scarf to set them down on the seat next to him, tossing his gloves on top of the pile. They argued good-naturedly over what to get for dinner as Yuri added half the sugar packets on the table to his teacup. In the end, they chose dim sum and a dish of mixed meat and vegetables served with rice. As they waited for their food, Flynn leaned against the back of the booth, cradling his teacup for the warmth it radiated.

"Do you want to stop in and see Repede tomorrow before we go to Estelle's party?"

Yuri looked up at him, surprised at first, before a grin spread across his face. "You're going?"

"If her invitation still stands. You don't think she'll mind, do you?"

"She'd be more upset if you didn't show up." His smile faded a little. "But, yeah. I think he'd like that. Besides, you didn't really get to meet him."

"Any friend of yours…." By all accounts, Repede was a very good dog. Even Flynn was beginning to regret that they couldn't adopt him.

"So, how'd your mom take the news that you're ditching her tonight?"

Oops. He had completely forgotten about that. "I don't actually know. I, ah…I sent her a text message, but I haven't checked my phone, since. I think it's still in the car."

Yuri snickered. "Oooo. Someone's in trouble."

"Shut up. I'm a grown man—"

"Not for another few months, Mr. We're Underage."

"—and I can decide for myself how I'm going to spend the holidays."

"Don't come complaining to me when she grounds you."

After that, they set aside talk of worries and obligations. They retold funny stories from high school, mentioned what courses they were considering for the spring semester, and talked about the next round of judo classes that would be starting soon at the Y. When their food came, they fought playfully over choice pieces, chopsticks snapping over the plates, and Flynn had to hold back laughter so as not to disturb the few other diners.

They quieted down through their meal, though their smiles lingered even as the check was delivered along with a pair of fortune cookies. Yuri snapped his open and broke into a full-on grin as he read what was printed on the little slip of paper.

"What's it say?"

"Tell you in a minute." He popped half the cookie into his mouth, smirking around it as he chewed.

Flynn checked his own fortune, a silly line about no star being too distant to follow, and shook his head. Those things got worse every time.

They finished the cookies and got up to leave. As Flynn had his hands full pulling his coat back on, Yuri leaned in close. "'Fortune favors the brave,'" he said, holding up the little paper. Before Flynn knew what was happening, Yuri's hands were wrapped around the lapels of his dinner jacket, holding him in place for a kiss.

A pointed cough interrupted them almost immediately, and they broke apart to see an older man in a booth across the aisle glaring disapprovingly at them. Yuri blew a raspberry and turned his back on him as he grabbed his hoodie.

"Well, I guess it didn't say good fortune," he muttered.

Despite embarrassment heating his face, Flynn still had to bite back a laugh at that. They split the check at the register and walked out into an utter downpour. There was no awning to protect them, and after a second of being stunned into stillness by the sudden drenching, they made a break for the car, Flynn clutching his coat closed around him, and Yuri draping his hoodie over his head and back like a cloak. They were soaked in moments and, though Yuri was laughing breathlessly as they hopped into the relative warmth of the car, Flynn knew the cold would be setting in fast, particularly since Yuri was down to a wet t-shirt, his hoodie now a sodden pile tossed into the back seat. There would be no detours through residential neighborhoods on the way home. They needed to get back to the apartment and into some dry clothes.

Although he cranked up the heat as high as it would go, he could hear Yuri's teeth start to chatter. Despite that, he still heard a shaky "My side" every now and again as he drove them toward home. The only reason he wasn't shivering himself was that his thick, wool coat did a decent job of holding back most of the rain.

The downpour did not let up the entire way back, and the lot at the complex was mostly full. They were facing another drenching run through the storm. He glanced over at Yuri who forced a smile past his shivers.

"R-ready to b-b-book it?"

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Flynn slipped his arms free of his coat, rocking until he could pull it out from under him. The rain hadn't penetrated the inner lining so, although the outside was wet, inside it was warm and dry. He passed it to Yuri, helping to get it over his shoulders in preparation for the dash to the stairs, and ignoring his urging to stop fussing. Every time he felt the touch of cold, wet t-shirt fabric, he shivered. Yuri's fingers were icy and shaking as they straightened the coat, and Flynn caught his hands up, cupping them together and blowing over them.

Though it would only take them a minute or two to reach the haven of their apartment, he was more than happy to share some of his warmth to brace Yuri for one last plunge into the December storm. He hadn't expected Yuri to yank his hands free and lean across the console, hadn't expected the kiss pressed to his lips or the grip on his scarf holding him close. He took Yuri's face in his hands, cheeks cool under his palms, hair like icicles slipping over the backs of his fingers. Yuri hummed a little, lips vibrating like shivers as he pressed in closer, seeking something in the deepening of the kiss—warmth or comfort, love or sex, maybe all of those things, maybe none.

Flynn let a hand slip down. Yuri's neck was barely warm beneath his fingers, his arm where Flynn ran his touch back up beneath his sleeve was clammy. Even the kiss, insistent as it was, felt chilled by the weather. His hand skimmed down over Yuri's chest, thumb flicking over his nipple and making him flinch. At the first touch of fingertips over the bare skin of his hip where his shirt had ridden up, Yuri shivered and pushed himself further off his seat, closer to Flynn. He could take Yuri in his arms, strip away his wet things, warm him right there in the car with nothing but the heat of their bodies….

With no small effort, Flynn managed to pull back. He resettled the coat over Yuri's shoulders and smiled, a little sheepish that he'd nearly let himself be carried away.

"That should be enough warmth to get you going."

"Stingy. Bet I b-beat you in!"

He was out the door in a flash, gasping at the driving rain and racing across the asphalt. Snatching up his phone, Flynn chased after him, shoes splashing through puddles and sending up sprays of water to soak his pants. Yuri made the steps first, of course, but not by much. Their footsteps pounded up the stairs, water coursing off them in streams. As the reached the landing, Yuri stumbled into the wall next to their door, wide-eyed and shaking with cold or laughter, Flynn couldn't tell which. He dropped his keys twice before getting them into the lock, and the two of them tumbled inside in their rush to get warm.

"F-f-fuck!" Yuri went straight to the thermostat and dialed it up.

"Go get changed. I'll put on a pot of coffee for us." He dropped his phone and gloves on the coffee table before taking his coat back and hanging it up behind the door along with his scarf.

"N-none f-for me. Go-gonna have c-cocoa."

"Dry clothes. Now."

It spoke to how cold Yuri was that he didn't argue further. Though his dinner jacket and dress shirt hadn't been spared the rain after all, Flynn was still dry enough to get a pot of coffee on and start some water boiling for the cocoa before he went to find his own change of clothes.

A thin turtleneck and jeans worn soft with age worked wonders against the chill, but he paused before leaving his room. His gift to Yuri was wrapped and hidden in his closet, and he went to retrieve it. He'd move their tiny tree onto the coffee table. They could warm up on the couch and open gifts together. It wasn't a white Christmas, which would have been nice, but the rain still made being home feel plenty cozy. Pity they didn't have a fireplace….

Catching a glimpse of his laptop where it sat on his desk, he grinned suddenly and set the gift down on his bed while he powered up the computer. He could hear Yuri move from his bedroom to the bathroom before the whirr of his hairdryer switched on. He didn't use it often, but Flynn knew he would be a few minutes trying to make sure the rainwater in his hair wouldn't undo the good dry clothes had done him. Quickly, he pulled up Google and, just as he'd hoped, his search returned a host of results. He shut the laptop and brought it and the gift out to the living room.

It was the work of moments to set up his computer on the coffee table and plug it in. He placed the tree between it and the gift, and left it there to go shut off the burner as the kettle began whistling. Yuri would want to make his own cocoa, so Flynn poured himself a mug of coffee and went to make himself comfortable on the couch. He was just getting settled when the hairdryer cut off and Yuri emerged from the hallway.

He paused next to the couch, staring at the setup on the table. He's switched out his sodden jeans and t-shirt for loose sweats and an overlarge sweater that hung off him without layers to fill it out. In addition to that, he had draped an old, brown fleece blanket over his shoulders.

"Is that a video of a fireplace?"

"YouTube," Flynn explained proudly. "The kettle's ready."

Yuri pulled a small box from beneath his blanket and tossed it to Flynn. "Merry Christmas. Open it up."

He didn't stay, choosing instead to fix his drink. Tearing away the paper, Flynn opened up the box and went still.

He barely remembered the day he'd pointed out the gold-accented silver wristwatch to Yuri. They had been at the mall for some reason, and they'd passed by a jewelry store. The display in the window featured the watch, one that Flynn had been admiring for some time, but hadn't felt he could splurge on. He'd said something to Yuri, or Yuri had seen him looking and asked. Either way, he'd practically forgotten that they'd talked about it at all. Yuri must have started saving up the day he'd seen it.

As Yuri came back in, mug clutched in his hands, Flynn set the box down on the table. He let Yuri sit down before carefully, one hand over the cocoa to be sure it didn't spill, leaning in close to kiss him. Yuri's mouth was hot and sweet, already flavored with the steaming contents of his mug, and he reached up to catch a lock of Flynn's hair, pulling him along as he sank back against the cushions. He licked his lips when they broke apart, smiling impishly.

"You're welcome."

"Open yours."

He waited impatiently as Yuri took a long sip of cocoa before picking up the box on the table. Taking the opportunity when Yuri leaned forward, Flynn rearranged his blanket, draping it over both of them as he opened his gift. The paper was ripped away and crumpled on the floor in no time, and Yuri opened up the nondescript cardboard box and pulled out the contents.

"Oh, sweet!"

They'd always spent a lot of time visiting each other's houses as children, but Flynn had been lucky enough to have an SNES and a host of games to go along with it. The two of them used to play for hours, and, just a few weeks ago, Flynn had come across one of the old systems for sale at a decent price in a store that sold used games and refurbished equipment. He'd bought it along with a few cartridges that day, knowing Yuri would get a kick out of owning a little piece of their childhood. Watching him look through the games, face alight, Flynn knew he'd done right by picking something fun rather than practical.

"Glad we agreed to exchange Christmas gifts?"

"Thinking about doing it again next year?"

"I think we should make all of this a tradition."

"What, the tree and the fireplace video?"

"Everything. The lights, dinner…keeping warm on a cold winter night."

Yuri laughed, but he leaned against Flynn as he set the box down and picked up his cocoa. "Shut up and drink your coffee."

They settled in together and watched the dancing flames on the computer screen as the warm drinks banished the last of the chill. When their mugs were empty and set aside, Flynn took Yuri's hand in his, playing with the way their fingers intertwined, rubbing his thumb over the ridges of knuckles, trailing the tips of his fingers over palm and wrist. He lifted Yuri's hand to his mouth, dusting the backs of his fingers with soft presses of his lips until Yuri slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him down.

They stretched out on the couch, draped in the old blanket and wrapped up in each other. Little movements set off sparks of heat and friction and caused Yuri's sweater to ride up, leaving Flynn to warm the exposed skin of his stomach and chest with kisses. The fireside crackle issuing from the speakers was soon lost beneath soft gasps and quiet moans muffled only by chocolate-flavored kisses. He should have known that Yuri wouldn't be content simply sitting close and warm, but he couldn't really complain about the direction things had taken.

As things heated up between them, articles of clothing were tossed or kicked aside. They were left covered by nothing but the blanket when Flynn's phone rang.

"It's for—" Yuri broke off with a gasp, arching up into Flynn's touch.

"Occupied. Send it to voicemail."

He let his teeth scrape lightly down Yuri's neck. Hands fumbling between them, he dropped wet kisses across collarbone and shoulder as Yuri groped single-handedly for his phone. The noise cut off mid-ring and Flynn bit down on the flesh at the crook of Yuri's neck. Their hips ground together just right as he bucked, and Flynn groaned at the feel of their bodies pressed flush against each other. Hearing his name slip from Yuri's lips in a way he never wanted to hear from anyone else, Flynn smiled.

Oh, yes, he thought, as they clutched each other close and moved together with pleasurable purpose. They would definitely have to make all of this part of their new Christmas tradition.