[Fic] Untitled [Wolfram/Yuuri, R/NC17]
Untitled (for now)
Pairing: Wolfram/Yuuri, Yuuri/Wolfram
Rating: Very Hard R, maybe NC 17 just to be safe?
Warnings: Masturbation...uh--hand job?
Notes: Little plot bunny that wouldn’t leave me alone. I don’t presume to know this pairing well, so any concrit is more than welcome.
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Wolfram is in the middle of a dream where he cannot summon his fire. He is unsure of just why he must summon it, but he keeps trying until the floor below him begins to rock back and forth ever so slightly. He grounds his heels into the ground, intent on the task at hand and determined not to be distracted, moving floor or not. Suddenly, the light sway becomes more prominent, and the scene in his mind shifts. He is now on a boat, the waves lightly crashing against the side of his craft and causing the boat to tilt back and forth. The familiar feeling of nausea arises in him and he digs his fingertips into the bottom of the boat, grasping fistfuls of soft, pliable wood. He stares at the wood for a moment, bundled in his hand as though made of silk, and then it dawns on him: he must be dreaming. And as quickly as that realization is made, he is pulling himself into consciousness, his eyes slowly opening to see the darkness of his bedroom.
Except there is still a sway in movement beneath him and he is still clutching the sheets to steady the movement. The movement is slight--too slight to be a quake, for sure--but it is disturbing his equilibrium. He shifts his body to identify the source, and while doing so he hears Yuuri make the tiniest noise possible. His eyes are wide and awake now, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile.
Is Yuuri--?
He shifts a bit again, and Yuuri must hear him this time because everything goes completely still and quiet. A minute passes by without sound, and then Yuuri slowly exhales a held breath, confirming Wolfram’s thoughts. Indignation rises in him--Why didn’t Yuuri wake him up? Since he didn’t, who the hell is he thinking about?--but it is replaced quickly by an altogether different heat when Yuuri makes another muffled sound against what he guesses to be a pillow.
Mind made up, he pulls himself closer to his bedmate, causing stillness again. But this time he continues forward until he is against Yuuri’s side, breathing against the Maou’s ear. His arm slides forward, over Yuuri’s hip and captures Yuuri’s hand and hardness in his grasp.
“Yuuri,” he murmurs tenderly against the dark strands of hair against his cheek.
Yuuri jumps at the contact and shouts, causing Wolfram to muffle his cry by pushing his face into the pillow.
“Shh, you idiot, do you want everyone to come running?” he whispers harshly, removing the pressure on Yuuri’s head and allowing the young man to breathe again. This time there is no shouting, just a returning whisper as Wolfram removes Yuuri’s hand completely and replaces it with his own.
“Wolfram…I wasn’t--” Yuuri begins, but then he is leaning his head back into the crook of Wolfram’s neck, softly moaning against his throat, and all protest is forgotten. Wolfram tries not to focus on the sounds Yuuri is making or how close their bodies are pressed against one another, instead closing his eyes and focusing on pleasing Yuuri. When he has succeeded in doing just that, he slides away reluctantly, giving Yuuri the space he needs to catch his breath.
“What about you?” Yuuri asks, turning over once he has composed himself. His hand reaches out, but the tone of his voice is one of strained hesitancy and it makes Wolfram capture that hand and place it back on the mattress.
“I’m fine,” he promises, and he is: This new show of trust is testimony that they are becoming just a little bit closer, and that is satisfaction enough.
For now.
Pairing: Wolfram/Yuuri, Yuuri/Wolfram
Rating: Very Hard R, maybe NC 17 just to be safe?
Warnings: Masturbation...uh--hand job?
Notes: Little plot bunny that wouldn’t leave me alone. I don’t presume to know this pairing well, so any concrit is more than welcome.
----------
Wolfram is in the middle of a dream where he cannot summon his fire. He is unsure of just why he must summon it, but he keeps trying until the floor below him begins to rock back and forth ever so slightly. He grounds his heels into the ground, intent on the task at hand and determined not to be distracted, moving floor or not. Suddenly, the light sway becomes more prominent, and the scene in his mind shifts. He is now on a boat, the waves lightly crashing against the side of his craft and causing the boat to tilt back and forth. The familiar feeling of nausea arises in him and he digs his fingertips into the bottom of the boat, grasping fistfuls of soft, pliable wood. He stares at the wood for a moment, bundled in his hand as though made of silk, and then it dawns on him: he must be dreaming. And as quickly as that realization is made, he is pulling himself into consciousness, his eyes slowly opening to see the darkness of his bedroom.
Except there is still a sway in movement beneath him and he is still clutching the sheets to steady the movement. The movement is slight--too slight to be a quake, for sure--but it is disturbing his equilibrium. He shifts his body to identify the source, and while doing so he hears Yuuri make the tiniest noise possible. His eyes are wide and awake now, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile.
Is Yuuri--?
He shifts a bit again, and Yuuri must hear him this time because everything goes completely still and quiet. A minute passes by without sound, and then Yuuri slowly exhales a held breath, confirming Wolfram’s thoughts. Indignation rises in him--Why didn’t Yuuri wake him up? Since he didn’t, who the hell is he thinking about?--but it is replaced quickly by an altogether different heat when Yuuri makes another muffled sound against what he guesses to be a pillow.
Mind made up, he pulls himself closer to his bedmate, causing stillness again. But this time he continues forward until he is against Yuuri’s side, breathing against the Maou’s ear. His arm slides forward, over Yuuri’s hip and captures Yuuri’s hand and hardness in his grasp.
“Yuuri,” he murmurs tenderly against the dark strands of hair against his cheek.
Yuuri jumps at the contact and shouts, causing Wolfram to muffle his cry by pushing his face into the pillow.
“Shh, you idiot, do you want everyone to come running?” he whispers harshly, removing the pressure on Yuuri’s head and allowing the young man to breathe again. This time there is no shouting, just a returning whisper as Wolfram removes Yuuri’s hand completely and replaces it with his own.
“Wolfram…I wasn’t--” Yuuri begins, but then he is leaning his head back into the crook of Wolfram’s neck, softly moaning against his throat, and all protest is forgotten. Wolfram tries not to focus on the sounds Yuuri is making or how close their bodies are pressed against one another, instead closing his eyes and focusing on pleasing Yuuri. When he has succeeded in doing just that, he slides away reluctantly, giving Yuuri the space he needs to catch his breath.
“What about you?” Yuuri asks, turning over once he has composed himself. His hand reaches out, but the tone of his voice is one of strained hesitancy and it makes Wolfram capture that hand and place it back on the mattress.
“I’m fine,” he promises, and he is: This new show of trust is testimony that they are becoming just a little bit closer, and that is satisfaction enough.
For now.