[Fanfic] Expectations and Predictability
Title: Expectations and Predictability
Author: michechu
Pairing: Yuuri x Wolfram
Rating: PG
Warnings: Season 3 spoilers
Summary: Yuuri contemplates the meaning of routine, and how the biggest changes seem to sneak in without being noticed.
Goal: To go where no fanfic has gone before.
Notes: I was half asleep when I wrote this and it shows in the quality of my writing, so I hope you'll forgive me just this once XD
x-posted to kkm_wolframfans
It wasn't unusual for him to be awake at this hour, though Yuuri admitted to himself that sleep would be a long time in coming. He wriggled his toes under the sheets and stretched, content with staring up at the folds of his canopy for the time being.
Winding down was a universal element to a party of any nature, he realized, even one as low-key as the galas in this world. It carried with it the same vigor and excitability as a typical party on Earth, despite the lack of thundering rock music and flashing lights. He was suitably pleased with the fact that his eardrums usually remained unmolested during these events.
The man beside him stirred, but did not awaken. Yuuri felt slightly guilty; perhaps Wolfram's subconscious had registered the fact that the other man was still in an upright position and thus, not asleep. The blonde rolled onto his side with a grand sweep of arms and legs, successfully pulling the blankets completely off of his bedmate.
Yuuri grumbled for a moment about cold toes, but decided against trying to retrieve the tangled silk from his cover-hogging fiance. Wolfram had presented him with his back, a fact which Yuuri would not have been aware of were it not for the bits of blonde hair peeking out from under his manmade cocoon.
His gaze lingered pensively on that small tuft of hair. He had long since gotten used to Wolfram's peculiar sleeping habits, as one would expect after sharing a bed with him for nearly a year. He wasn't particularly astounded by that thought-- it was bound to happen eventually. What had managed to escape his attention, however, was when he stopped fighting.
For the first few months, the pattern was the same every night. The moment Wolfram would fall asleep, Yuuri would find that he'd been robbed of his share of the blanket. In response he would yank them back onto his side again, and a swift kick was usually his reward-- if he was lucky that night, the blonde wouldn't damage a specific part of his anatomy and his hope of ever having children.
He wasn't lucky most nights.
Yuuri groaned at the thought. Surely, he was impotent by now.
Gradually, they had fallen into a much more favorable routine. When Wolfram would take the covers, instead of demanding them back, Yuuri would sidle closer and gently coax them from the other boy. The blonde would mumble in his sleep before relinquishing his death grip and sharing his prize, leaving Yuuri injury-free.
The young king's thoughts wandered back a few hours prior, to the girl he'd met somewhere between escaping a weeping Gunter and trying to find the unending fountain of spirits his guests all seemed to know about. She'd shyly asked him for a dance, and though he knew Wolfram had retired early-- quite atypical behavior for him-- Yuuri found himself declining her request with a slight shake of his head and a gentle smile.
There was the root of his current restlessness.
It had only been a few days after Wolfram had returned from Bielefeld, and news had spread quickly about the Maou and his single status. Although Wolfram had reinstated the engagement, many were still unaware of the fact.
Yuuri had to wonder at the vast difference in the speed of the almighty grapevine. Within a day the entire kingdom knew Wolfram had left Yuuri to his lonesome, but the rumor mill seemed to be absorbing their current affairs quite grudgingly.
A small part of him felt angry at that, but he shook it off.
In his mind's eye, when that girl had asked him to dance, he could see the disturbance in this newfound routine. He didn't dare entertain the thought of courting anyone; things would change, and while his situation was anything but what he considered normal, he was comfortable.
He wasn't in love with Wolfram, but neither was he as dense as he was when he first came to this world. He had known, on some level, that his feelings were slowly shifting.
He could feel the change every time he saw the fire in Wolfram's eyes. If he were to fall in love with Wolfram, Yuuri knew that passion would be his undoing. That unbridled pas--
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft, very unmistakable sound to his left.
He launched himself out of the bed in his incredulity. "What the hell was that?!" It was an unnecessary question.
Wolfram turned to face him, eyes looking down at him blearily. "What are you talking about?"
Yuuri sputtered, outraged. "You're actually going to deny it?"
Wolfram sat up, rubbing his face and glaring down at Yuuri. "You're overreacting." He muttered, confirming what Yuuri already knew.
"Oh, hell no," Yuuri spat, "you did NOT just fart in my bed!"
Wolfram looked absolutely mortified. "The sweet potatoes at dinner upset my stomach!"
So that was why his fiance had made a hasty retreat this evening. Yuuri couldn't help but laugh. It started out as a soft chortle before erupting into an ear-splitting howl.
Once he'd calmed down, he crawled back into bed with an indignant Wolfram. The blonde had turned his back on him again, and inwardly Yuuri worried about the possibility of another attack. The thought made him giggle into his pillow.
Bravely, he scooted closer, tugging gently on the blankets that the other boy still held in a vice-like grip. Wolfram relented as he had come to expect.
The last thought that crossed his mind before sleep was that he would never truly know what to expect from Wolfram.
End notes: While I was writing this, I spent way too much time trying to imagine what a Wolfram fart would be like. I think it'd be the squeaky kind. XD
Author: michechu
Pairing: Yuuri x Wolfram
Rating: PG
Warnings: Season 3 spoilers
Summary: Yuuri contemplates the meaning of routine, and how the biggest changes seem to sneak in without being noticed.
Goal: To go where no fanfic has gone before.
Notes: I was half asleep when I wrote this and it shows in the quality of my writing, so I hope you'll forgive me just this once XD
x-posted to kkm_wolframfans
It wasn't unusual for him to be awake at this hour, though Yuuri admitted to himself that sleep would be a long time in coming. He wriggled his toes under the sheets and stretched, content with staring up at the folds of his canopy for the time being.
Winding down was a universal element to a party of any nature, he realized, even one as low-key as the galas in this world. It carried with it the same vigor and excitability as a typical party on Earth, despite the lack of thundering rock music and flashing lights. He was suitably pleased with the fact that his eardrums usually remained unmolested during these events.
The man beside him stirred, but did not awaken. Yuuri felt slightly guilty; perhaps Wolfram's subconscious had registered the fact that the other man was still in an upright position and thus, not asleep. The blonde rolled onto his side with a grand sweep of arms and legs, successfully pulling the blankets completely off of his bedmate.
Yuuri grumbled for a moment about cold toes, but decided against trying to retrieve the tangled silk from his cover-hogging fiance. Wolfram had presented him with his back, a fact which Yuuri would not have been aware of were it not for the bits of blonde hair peeking out from under his manmade cocoon.
His gaze lingered pensively on that small tuft of hair. He had long since gotten used to Wolfram's peculiar sleeping habits, as one would expect after sharing a bed with him for nearly a year. He wasn't particularly astounded by that thought-- it was bound to happen eventually. What had managed to escape his attention, however, was when he stopped fighting.
For the first few months, the pattern was the same every night. The moment Wolfram would fall asleep, Yuuri would find that he'd been robbed of his share of the blanket. In response he would yank them back onto his side again, and a swift kick was usually his reward-- if he was lucky that night, the blonde wouldn't damage a specific part of his anatomy and his hope of ever having children.
He wasn't lucky most nights.
Yuuri groaned at the thought. Surely, he was impotent by now.
Gradually, they had fallen into a much more favorable routine. When Wolfram would take the covers, instead of demanding them back, Yuuri would sidle closer and gently coax them from the other boy. The blonde would mumble in his sleep before relinquishing his death grip and sharing his prize, leaving Yuuri injury-free.
The young king's thoughts wandered back a few hours prior, to the girl he'd met somewhere between escaping a weeping Gunter and trying to find the unending fountain of spirits his guests all seemed to know about. She'd shyly asked him for a dance, and though he knew Wolfram had retired early-- quite atypical behavior for him-- Yuuri found himself declining her request with a slight shake of his head and a gentle smile.
There was the root of his current restlessness.
It had only been a few days after Wolfram had returned from Bielefeld, and news had spread quickly about the Maou and his single status. Although Wolfram had reinstated the engagement, many were still unaware of the fact.
Yuuri had to wonder at the vast difference in the speed of the almighty grapevine. Within a day the entire kingdom knew Wolfram had left Yuuri to his lonesome, but the rumor mill seemed to be absorbing their current affairs quite grudgingly.
A small part of him felt angry at that, but he shook it off.
In his mind's eye, when that girl had asked him to dance, he could see the disturbance in this newfound routine. He didn't dare entertain the thought of courting anyone; things would change, and while his situation was anything but what he considered normal, he was comfortable.
He wasn't in love with Wolfram, but neither was he as dense as he was when he first came to this world. He had known, on some level, that his feelings were slowly shifting.
He could feel the change every time he saw the fire in Wolfram's eyes. If he were to fall in love with Wolfram, Yuuri knew that passion would be his undoing. That unbridled pas--
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft, very unmistakable sound to his left.
He launched himself out of the bed in his incredulity. "What the hell was that?!" It was an unnecessary question.
Wolfram turned to face him, eyes looking down at him blearily. "What are you talking about?"
Yuuri sputtered, outraged. "You're actually going to deny it?"
Wolfram sat up, rubbing his face and glaring down at Yuuri. "You're overreacting." He muttered, confirming what Yuuri already knew.
"Oh, hell no," Yuuri spat, "you did NOT just fart in my bed!"
Wolfram looked absolutely mortified. "The sweet potatoes at dinner upset my stomach!"
So that was why his fiance had made a hasty retreat this evening. Yuuri couldn't help but laugh. It started out as a soft chortle before erupting into an ear-splitting howl.
Once he'd calmed down, he crawled back into bed with an indignant Wolfram. The blonde had turned his back on him again, and inwardly Yuuri worried about the possibility of another attack. The thought made him giggle into his pillow.
Bravely, he scooted closer, tugging gently on the blankets that the other boy still held in a vice-like grip. Wolfram relented as he had come to expect.
The last thought that crossed his mind before sleep was that he would never truly know what to expect from Wolfram.
End notes: While I was writing this, I spent way too much time trying to imagine what a Wolfram fart would be like. I think it'd be the squeaky kind. XD