[Fic] [Round 039] The Non-Sex Mantra [PG-13]
Author: tigersilver
Title: "The Non-Sex Mantra"
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Yuuri, Wolfram, Yuuram
Theme/Prompt(s): Baseball, nosebleeds, dragons
Word Count: 1,079
Warning(s): Fluff. Be glad I didn't write a poem.
The Non-Sex Mantra
“Take your hands off me, you ass! What if someone comes in?”
“Huh. Right. Like they would, Wolfram. I think they kinda know enough not to walk in when we’re in bed together. We’re engaged, for Chrissake!”
His head was thumped, forcefully. Through the ringing in his ears Yuuri heard Wolf harrumph again.
“Your mother, this morning.”
Thwack!
“Your brother, ten minutes ago.”
Thwack!
“What are you saying, idiot? It’s like one of your roadways here, with all these people whizzing in and out! And I’m not going to be shamed by you, Shibuya Yuuri, not again - you keep your grabby hands to yourself!”
“What are you saying?! I just touched you! All over, with my hands and my mouth and my-“
“Stop right there, Yuuri! Don’t even say it! I’m warning you now-“
“Ah, come on, Wolf. Just a little?”
“No! I can barely look your father in the eye over breakfast as it is! Just stop, Yuuri! Hmph!”
There was a short silence, while Yuuri huffed and then rearranged himself, back to Wolfram, preparing to sulk.
It stretched on and on and felt vaguely uncomfortable after a while, enough so that the blonde actually felt compelled to apologize.
“I’m…sorry, Yuuri. It’s not that I don’t want to-“
“Baseball!”
“What?”
“Pochi!”
“Yuuri? Are you alright? And it’s Liesel, by the way.”
“Nosebleeds!”
Wolfram sat up very fast, thoroughly disconcerted, one hand snaking to land on Yuuri’s brow where it was buried in his pillow, muffling his odd shouts, the other grasping the Maou’s shoulder tightly, shaking him hard. His rapid motion made Jennifer’s borrowed nightgown sag most of the way down one pale shoulder, providing a nice view of a trim waist and the beginnings of slim hips, bound with the thin silk cords of the traditional Mazoku nobleman’s undergarment.
“What in Shinou’s Name is wrong with you, wimp? Why are you screaming nonsense?”
“Shut up, Wolf-chan. I’m busy. Don’t bother me.” Yuuri wisely turned his head and shut his eyes again as he half-groaned, half-whispered:
“Thongs!”
“Yuuri!” Wolf was shaking him in earnest now, terribly afraid his poor wimpy fiancé had finally snapped under the pressure of planning their wedding.
“No! Not thongs!” Yuuri sat up, neatly evading the rough hand on his shoulder, and waved a sudden and admonishing finger in Wolfram’s startled face.
“I can’t think about underwear right now, Wolf-chan.”
“O-kay…?”
“But I can think about the Fly-Bone Tribe!” the Maou announced triumphantly. “All clickety-clack! And Adelbert - I can think about Adelbert, too.”
Wolfram shook his head in confusion and then cocked it to one side in curiosity. He’d determined to his own satisfaction his fiancé didn’t have a fever. Yuuri didn’t seem to be foaming at the mouth, either, that telltale sign of madness, so what else could possibly be going on? And-
“Why Adelbert, of all people?”
“’Cause he’s not sexy, of course! Greta! Greta’s cute but she’s not sexy, at least not yet-“
“Grr! If I ever catch her being ‘sexy’, Yuuri, then I’m not going to care if she’s our cute little daughter, she’s going to stay in her room the entire time she’s a teenager!”
“Right! You’re absolutely right, Wolf-chan! Positively! We can’t allow our darling girl to end up like your sexy mother, can we? Nope! Her room it shall be, with Yosak guarding her, till she forgets all about that stupid girly stuff!”
“So, you’re with me on this one, Yuuri?”
“Damn straight, I am!”
Determined and completely in tune with each other, Yuuri and Wolfram shook hands over it, being the stalwart gentlemen and overprotective fathers they totally were. A companionable silence descended between the two of them after this hearty agreement. By this time Wolfram was tired enough to yawn - a delightful little curl of pink tongue half-masked by the flash of white teeth - which instantly reminded the Maou of an adorably sleepy kitten. The blonde stifled another, gradually easing down onto the heaps of pillows Mama-san had piled all over Yuuri’s somewhat Spartan bed, allowing himself to luxuriate in the exhaustion he often fell prey to in Yuuri’s world.
Yuuri groaned under his breath in equally stifled reaction and forced himself not to look at the skin exposed by the fallen nightgown, the long elegant line of Wolf-chan’s ribcage, the delicate indentation of his navel-
A muffled curse split the silence, startling Wolfram, and he groggily lifted his remarkably long lashes to peer at Yuuri.
“Damn! Paperwork! Treaties! Agreements! Liens and deeds and contracts! Gwendal and Gunter and piles of paperwork, more than I can even imagine! All over the desk, spilling onto the floor…”
“Whaaat? Yuuri, what are you talking about?” demanded a now mildly irritated Wolfram, his concern for his fiancé the only thing keeping him of this side of Morpheus’s border. “What’s wrong?”
Yuuri dragged his greedy eyes away from the source of his hard-on by the simple act of turning his entire body and shuffling himself back under the covers, snapping off the dim bulb of the bedside lamp in passing.
Sulkily, he refused to answer. Wolf-chan had looked so awfully inviting there, with his nightgown loosened and his soft hair mussed, those moist lips just barely parted. By Shinou’s Blade, didn’t he damned well realize what he was doing to his love-starved fiancé? Screw being interrupted! No one would dare walk in on them if they made enough noise!
“Meat pies!”
“Yuuri?”
“Wolf-chan, you don’t get it, do you? I swear, you’re so difficult sometimes. Etiquette lessons!”
” Huh? What are you talking about, Yuuri?”
“I am practicing my mantra here, Wolfram. Leave me in peace if you’re just going to sleep!”
“Mantra? What mantra?”
“My ‘non-sex’ mantra, that’s what! What else am I supposed to do if you’re that tired, eh? It’s not like I’m going to force you or anything!”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. ‘Oh.’”
“Yuuri?”
“Sandbears! Just shut up, Wolfram!”
“Darling…”
The hand that had shaken the Maou earlier was remarkably gentle this time around, fingertips trailing like feathers down the buttons of Yuuri’s blue pajamas, easing them open with the softest of sounds. The Maou tensed beneath them, barely breathing, all the non-sexy words forgotten altogether in the wash of heat that followed that drifting hand.
“Ah.”
“Yuuri, thongs. Nightgowns,” whispered Wolfram, in a voice dripping honey. He pressed his warmth against Yuuri’s spine and sighed into the Maou’s twitching nape.
“Bed, my love. Our bed.”
“Ah!”
“Lover. Best friend. Fiancé.”
“Wolf-chan!”
END
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