[ For a second all Flynn can do is stand there. He doesn't remember the last time Yuri did something like this in a public place. Not with so much desperation and naked worry, not with all that feeling welling up and spilling everywhere. He makes a startled little oof sort of noise, wraps his arms around Yuri out of reflex to keep them both up, and then drops them again with another little dismayed sound. ]
No, no! I don't know whose it is, you don't need to worry about it— Yuri, your shirt—
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No, no! I don't know whose it is, you don't need to worry about it— Yuri, your shirt—
[ It is a MESS now ]