fic: The Accident (PG-13), part 1
Title: The Accident
Author: genkisakka
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Yuuri/Wolfram, Conrad, Gunter
Genre: Romantic comedy
Part: 1 of 4
Warnings: boys kissing boys
Summary: Yuuri just wanted Wolfram to stop hogging his bed...
Author's notes: I actually wrote the first part of this a few years back, came across it a couple days ago and decided it was worth finishing. (I hope. ^^;;)
The first time was an accident. Yuuri would swear to that on whatever holy book was handy.
The young demon king was startled awake that night, as on many other nights, to find himself teetering on the edge of his bed, a split-second away from tumbling onto the floor. The cause of his predicament was a slender, strong foot planted squarely in the small of his back.
That damned bed-hog! Yuuri gritted his teeth and pushed against his erstwhile fiance's offending limb, and Wolfram rolled over with a snuffle that reminded the young king of a basset hound he'd seen once in the park near his home on Earth. Yuuri sighed and leaned back against his pillow, then sat up with a yelp when he encountered Wolfram's shoulder instead. The demon prince had somehow managed to sprawl diagonally across the bed, taking up almost every spare centimeter of mattress space.
"That's it," Yuuri hissed, shoving Wolfram's shoulder. "Dammit, Wolfram, this is MY bed," he whispered as the blond mumbled an inarticulate protest and clutched at Yuuri's pillow. "If you won't share, then get out!"
He loosened Wolfram's grip on the pillow and pushed him to the other side of the bed, losing half the blankets in the process. Yuuri decided he could accept the lack of covers if it meant having more than a sliver of mattress to himself. He closed his eyes and lay back with a contented sigh, burrowing his head deeply into the down pillow as he drifted back to sleep.
Yuuri guessed he'd managed about two uninterrupted hours of slumber before the absence of blankets had him shivering awake just before dawn. He stared blearily at the wall for a second before closing his eyes and rolling over, groping blindly for the numerous blankets he remembered tucking himself into when he'd gone to bed hours before. His hands brushed against something warm and solid covered in a silky fabric. Wolfram wrapped in his down duvet, was Yuuri's grumpy assumption.
"Gimme some covers, Wolfram," Yuuri muttered, tugging at the duvet, which felt a lot lighter than he recalled and wasn't coming loose at all. "C'mon you selfish bastard," he growled, opening his eyes.
That's when he saw that the duvet wasn't a duvet at all, but Wolfram's pink nightgown, which Yuuri had pulled down enough to expose a good bit of the man's bare chest. He pulled his hands back as if they'd been burned and bit back the stream of indignant protests that followed the embarrassing realization that he'd inadvertently groped the fiance that he loudly and continually insisted he'd never wanted in the first place. They ran through his mind with the speed of a bullet train -- I didn't mean anything it was your fault you were stealing my covers again I just wanted them back I told you I don't like men like THAT and I'm too young to get married anyway!
He held his breath, but Wolfram showed no sign of waking. He'd taken over half of Yuuri's pillow, his golden head lying next to Yuuri's own, close enough that Yuuri could count Wolfram's long, dark eyelashes and feel Wolfram's breath ghosting across his cheeks with each light, purring snore the prince emitted. His lips were full and pink, as pretty as any girl's, Yuuri thought, gazing at them as if they were suddenly the most fascinating objects ever.
Yuuri felt dazed, like he'd just fallen off his horse and had the wind knocked from him. The thought wasn't a new one -- Wolfram was certainly more beautiful than anyone he knew, male or female -- but until then it had been a dispassionate observation, like admiring one of Michelangelo's sculptures or Botticelli's paintings during a slide show at school. Now the thought had been given substance, in the form of a pair of lips that Venus herself would envy, laying a hair's breadth from his own. If one of them moved even a tiny bit in the wrong direction, Yuuri thought, then they'd be... they would...
Of course, Wolfram -- that restless sleeper, the one who poked and jostled and shoved Yuuri every which way in his own bed -- of course he would pick that exact moment to nestle closer to Yuuri.
And in that moment, their lips touched. It couldn't have been more than a second or two, a period during which Yuuri forgot to breathe and how to move his limbs and how he absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent did NOT like boys in any way that involved anything more than a brotherly hug or clap on the back.
Then Wolfram's eyes opened just enough to show a touch of green iris, and he smiled sleepily at Yuuri before rolling over and resuming his kitten-like snoring. Yuuri had lay there for a few minutes until his breathing had evened out and his heart had stopped racing, then gotten out of bed and headed straight for the bath. There was no way he would be able to get back to sleep after that... after the...
No, not the kiss -- the accidental lip-touch, Yuuri told himself as he poked at his breakfast. That's what it was - an unintentional collision of lips, he thought, as Gunter gave him his schedule for the day. It was definitely NOT a kiss! Kisses were something two people decided on, not something that happened by accident in one's sleep. Okay, Yuuri acknowledged, so he hadn't been asleep, exactly, but definitely not fully awake. Because if he had been fully awake, he'd have jumped out of the bed and screamed something full of moral outrage at the devious prince who sneaked into his bed and tried to take advantage of him while he was asleep. Except that Wolfram himself had been asleep when he... when they had...
Yuuri groaned with frustration and let his head drop on top of the pile of papers he was supposed to be signing. Gunter immediately stepped forward anxiously, putting a hand to Yuuri's forehead. "Are you feeling ill, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Can I get you anything? Some tea, maybe? Or a doctor?"
"No, no thank you, Gunter," Yuuri replied, waving his hands sheepishly. "I'll be fine, I just... didn't get much sleep last night."
"Would you like me to speak to Wolfram?" Conrad asked him later during their afternoon baseball practice after Yuuri missed three straight pitches and took a fourth square in the center of his chest protector.
"No!" Yuuri squawked, arms flailing. "I mean... it's not his fault, really." He scowled at that. "Well, it is, but..."
Conrad's lips twitched. "Then perhaps I should post a guard outside your bedroom?" he suggested. "To keep out any uninvited nighttime guests?" Conrad managed to keep a straight face, but Yuuri didn't miss the spark of amusement in his godfather's eyes.
"You're enjoying this a little too much," he grumbled.
"I apologize, Your Majesty," Conrad said immediately. This time, Yuuri observed, he couldn't keep the smile off his face.
"You don't sound sorry at all," Yuuri huffed. "And it's 'Yuuri,' remember? It's not right for the one who named me to call me 'Your Majesty.'"
"Very well, Yuuri. Perhaps we should hold off on practice until you're better-rested," Conrad said, patting Yuuri on the shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess," Yuuri said, glumly removing his catcher's mask. Damn Wolfram! He'd ruined Yuuri's favorite part of the day with his stupid bed-hogging and his stupid cover-snatching and his stupid soft lips.
No more, Yuuri resolved that evening in the bath, punching the water for emphasis. If that damned prince tried sneaking into his bed again tonight, Yuuri was kicking his ass right out without hesitation. Then Wolfram would get pissed off and start yelling at him and call him 'wimp' and 'cheater' and ignore him for a few days or so, thus preventing any more accidental lip-touching. And life in Shin Makoku would get back to normal.
~to be continued~
Author: genkisakka
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Yuuri/Wolfram, Conrad, Gunter
Genre: Romantic comedy
Part: 1 of 4
Warnings: boys kissing boys
Summary: Yuuri just wanted Wolfram to stop hogging his bed...
Author's notes: I actually wrote the first part of this a few years back, came across it a couple days ago and decided it was worth finishing. (I hope. ^^;;)
The first time was an accident. Yuuri would swear to that on whatever holy book was handy.
The young demon king was startled awake that night, as on many other nights, to find himself teetering on the edge of his bed, a split-second away from tumbling onto the floor. The cause of his predicament was a slender, strong foot planted squarely in the small of his back.
That damned bed-hog! Yuuri gritted his teeth and pushed against his erstwhile fiance's offending limb, and Wolfram rolled over with a snuffle that reminded the young king of a basset hound he'd seen once in the park near his home on Earth. Yuuri sighed and leaned back against his pillow, then sat up with a yelp when he encountered Wolfram's shoulder instead. The demon prince had somehow managed to sprawl diagonally across the bed, taking up almost every spare centimeter of mattress space.
"That's it," Yuuri hissed, shoving Wolfram's shoulder. "Dammit, Wolfram, this is MY bed," he whispered as the blond mumbled an inarticulate protest and clutched at Yuuri's pillow. "If you won't share, then get out!"
He loosened Wolfram's grip on the pillow and pushed him to the other side of the bed, losing half the blankets in the process. Yuuri decided he could accept the lack of covers if it meant having more than a sliver of mattress to himself. He closed his eyes and lay back with a contented sigh, burrowing his head deeply into the down pillow as he drifted back to sleep.
Yuuri guessed he'd managed about two uninterrupted hours of slumber before the absence of blankets had him shivering awake just before dawn. He stared blearily at the wall for a second before closing his eyes and rolling over, groping blindly for the numerous blankets he remembered tucking himself into when he'd gone to bed hours before. His hands brushed against something warm and solid covered in a silky fabric. Wolfram wrapped in his down duvet, was Yuuri's grumpy assumption.
"Gimme some covers, Wolfram," Yuuri muttered, tugging at the duvet, which felt a lot lighter than he recalled and wasn't coming loose at all. "C'mon you selfish bastard," he growled, opening his eyes.
That's when he saw that the duvet wasn't a duvet at all, but Wolfram's pink nightgown, which Yuuri had pulled down enough to expose a good bit of the man's bare chest. He pulled his hands back as if they'd been burned and bit back the stream of indignant protests that followed the embarrassing realization that he'd inadvertently groped the fiance that he loudly and continually insisted he'd never wanted in the first place. They ran through his mind with the speed of a bullet train -- I didn't mean anything it was your fault you were stealing my covers again I just wanted them back I told you I don't like men like THAT and I'm too young to get married anyway!
He held his breath, but Wolfram showed no sign of waking. He'd taken over half of Yuuri's pillow, his golden head lying next to Yuuri's own, close enough that Yuuri could count Wolfram's long, dark eyelashes and feel Wolfram's breath ghosting across his cheeks with each light, purring snore the prince emitted. His lips were full and pink, as pretty as any girl's, Yuuri thought, gazing at them as if they were suddenly the most fascinating objects ever.
Yuuri felt dazed, like he'd just fallen off his horse and had the wind knocked from him. The thought wasn't a new one -- Wolfram was certainly more beautiful than anyone he knew, male or female -- but until then it had been a dispassionate observation, like admiring one of Michelangelo's sculptures or Botticelli's paintings during a slide show at school. Now the thought had been given substance, in the form of a pair of lips that Venus herself would envy, laying a hair's breadth from his own. If one of them moved even a tiny bit in the wrong direction, Yuuri thought, then they'd be... they would...
Of course, Wolfram -- that restless sleeper, the one who poked and jostled and shoved Yuuri every which way in his own bed -- of course he would pick that exact moment to nestle closer to Yuuri.
And in that moment, their lips touched. It couldn't have been more than a second or two, a period during which Yuuri forgot to breathe and how to move his limbs and how he absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent did NOT like boys in any way that involved anything more than a brotherly hug or clap on the back.
Then Wolfram's eyes opened just enough to show a touch of green iris, and he smiled sleepily at Yuuri before rolling over and resuming his kitten-like snoring. Yuuri had lay there for a few minutes until his breathing had evened out and his heart had stopped racing, then gotten out of bed and headed straight for the bath. There was no way he would be able to get back to sleep after that... after the...
No, not the kiss -- the accidental lip-touch, Yuuri told himself as he poked at his breakfast. That's what it was - an unintentional collision of lips, he thought, as Gunter gave him his schedule for the day. It was definitely NOT a kiss! Kisses were something two people decided on, not something that happened by accident in one's sleep. Okay, Yuuri acknowledged, so he hadn't been asleep, exactly, but definitely not fully awake. Because if he had been fully awake, he'd have jumped out of the bed and screamed something full of moral outrage at the devious prince who sneaked into his bed and tried to take advantage of him while he was asleep. Except that Wolfram himself had been asleep when he... when they had...
Yuuri groaned with frustration and let his head drop on top of the pile of papers he was supposed to be signing. Gunter immediately stepped forward anxiously, putting a hand to Yuuri's forehead. "Are you feeling ill, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Can I get you anything? Some tea, maybe? Or a doctor?"
"No, no thank you, Gunter," Yuuri replied, waving his hands sheepishly. "I'll be fine, I just... didn't get much sleep last night."
"Would you like me to speak to Wolfram?" Conrad asked him later during their afternoon baseball practice after Yuuri missed three straight pitches and took a fourth square in the center of his chest protector.
"No!" Yuuri squawked, arms flailing. "I mean... it's not his fault, really." He scowled at that. "Well, it is, but..."
Conrad's lips twitched. "Then perhaps I should post a guard outside your bedroom?" he suggested. "To keep out any uninvited nighttime guests?" Conrad managed to keep a straight face, but Yuuri didn't miss the spark of amusement in his godfather's eyes.
"You're enjoying this a little too much," he grumbled.
"I apologize, Your Majesty," Conrad said immediately. This time, Yuuri observed, he couldn't keep the smile off his face.
"You don't sound sorry at all," Yuuri huffed. "And it's 'Yuuri,' remember? It's not right for the one who named me to call me 'Your Majesty.'"
"Very well, Yuuri. Perhaps we should hold off on practice until you're better-rested," Conrad said, patting Yuuri on the shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess," Yuuri said, glumly removing his catcher's mask. Damn Wolfram! He'd ruined Yuuri's favorite part of the day with his stupid bed-hogging and his stupid cover-snatching and his stupid soft lips.
No more, Yuuri resolved that evening in the bath, punching the water for emphasis. If that damned prince tried sneaking into his bed again tonight, Yuuri was kicking his ass right out without hesitation. Then Wolfram would get pissed off and start yelling at him and call him 'wimp' and 'cheater' and ignore him for a few days or so, thus preventing any more accidental lip-touching. And life in Shin Makoku would get back to normal.
~to be continued~