Day 16, Evening. All Alone With No One to Do
Gunter kissed him. Actually kissed him. Twice if you count the accident time. That was just too weird. That would be like, like, he didn't know, kissing Gwendal. But not, because it's GUNTER. He doesn't really remember much, it was short, he'd pulled away as soon as he'd realized what was happening... mostly purple. Lots of purple. That would have been Gunter's hair, now that he thinks about it.
Though he can't think of WHAT he could have done to encourage it.
Aww, screw it. It's not worth worrying about.
Shaking his head, he closes the door to his room and looks around. It fairly whispers Wolfram's name. He's everywhere in here. From the shirt thrown over the chair to the hairbrush with strands of blonde hair caught in it to the clothes taking up half his wardrobe. It makes him happy.
Dinner was absolutely wonderful, as always. The ladies really outdid themselves. With a loud groan, Yuuri collapses into bed and snuggles into the soft mattress. Long, long day. It’s still a little early to sleep, but he just wants to relax for a little.
His jacket and shirt already discarded onto the floor as he came in, his shoes and socks quickly join them along with his belt that clanks noisily as it hits the chair. Rolling over with a pleased hum, he buries his face into the nearest pillow, breathing in deeply as he closes his eyes.
His pillow smells like Wolfram. ♥ Well, it should, as it’s really Wolfram’s pillow, but it’s his right now for the moment and he hugs it enthusiastically to prove his point, swinging one leg around it as well. No one can take his great smelling pillow away from him, HA HA HA! With a happy little sigh, he wiggles against it and closes his eyes with a peaceful sigh.
………
Mmmm, yeah, a cat-nap maybe. Dozing until Wolfram comes in or it is time to read to his daughters. Just him and his pillow.
……….
He rolls over onto his back with a little grunt, crossing his arms over his head and stares at the canopy-ed ceiling. Why couldn’t he rest? Long day, full stomach, what was he missing? One arm comes back down so that his hand lays gently on his stomach, raising and falling with his breathing as he closes his eyes.
One T-Zhou, twooo T-Zhou, three T-Zhou, fooour T-Zhou…
Nope, not working. He opens his eyes again and slips his hand under the waistband of his pants to scratch himself. Thinking about it now, he has NEVER heard of the Mazoku counting sheep. Maybe they count something else, like sand pandas.
Then again, maybe he was just getting too used to sharing a bed and was unconsciously noticing that that person was not in bed beside him. Or on top of him. Or under him.
His cock twitches in agreement; Wolfram was good no matter what position he chose.
Quickly rolling over onto his side, his cheeks turning slightly pink, he let his mind drift back to the past few weeks. A month ago he wouldn’t have let Wolfram even kiss him. Now they did just about everything that normal couples did. They hadn’t actually made it out on a formal date (which is something he hoped to fix once everything calms down), but sex, they DID have sex.
Cursing under his breath, Yuuri struggles with the button on his back uniform trousers and sucks them off. They sail through the air and hit the bed post where they hesitate a moment before crumpling down, hanging off the bed like a loose tooth. Not that Yuuri notices this, he’s far to busy, his hand down his underwear and his eyes closed.
Slowly, not quite committed to this yet, he runs his thumb down the length, light and fleeting. Almost at once Wolfram’s face comes to mind with the memory of the evening events after the ball; the pawing at each other with youthful enthusiasm, the uncertain and excited exploration. Wolfram had touched him, but with a firmer hand. Yuuri adjusts his grip in attempted mimicry and groans softly, pushing his hips up into his hand and rubbing his face into his pillow. … that smells like Wolfram.
Someone was nice enough to fix up their room after Anissina’s transformation of it into some sort of love nest. But they had left all the … presents in a drawer by the bed, everything neatly lined up and ready for use. He had discovered this on accident a few days ago and had tried to forget about it until now.
Avoiding some of the more phallic-looking … things, he sorts through the little colored bottles of lubricant, selecting one of green glass at random. Bouncing back into the bed and his lovely pillow, he pulls the stopper out with his teeth and pours some of the liquid inside over his palm, breathing in the scent of something hinted with apple and then slides it back on the night stand where it won’t fall. Laying back down on the bed, he pulls his knees up a little and spreads his legs wide, gripping himself firmly again.
Arousal swells within his chest, rushing at him and stiffens his sex so that it arches towards his belly. Squirming a little, he manages to pull the little back scrap of fabric that passes for underwear down his hips until they settle awkwardly at the base of his thighs.
He can see dark green eyes in his mind as he starts to move his hand on himself, beautiful eyes. Up and down, torturously slow along the length, feeling the flesh harden and begin to throb. His breath comes out in short bursts and he licks his lips thickly as he begins to pump in earnest, shifting his hips back and forth with the motion.
A bead of sweat slides down his hairline and settles on his chin before dropping sharply off onto his collar as he takes a moment to caress his balls before returning his attention to his cock. His free hand slides over his chest, imagining a paler, stronger hand, and tweaks his nipples until he’s groaning in earnest. Wolfram had liked him loud too.
Keeping the hand on his cock going, he slides the other down further. Wolfram liked it inside too. He presses his index finger to his opening and gasps loudly, arching into his hand. “Wolfram.” He thumbs over his slit and can nearly feel feverishly burning skin pressed up against him, keening in his ear, hot and damp, and oh god he can’t ever get enough of that prince.
His underwear slides down to his knees as he moves his hand faster, turning his face into the pillow and breathing in the heady scent of his fiancé that lingers there as he pants wildly and his heart pounds against his ribcage.
“Wolfram,” he moans, pulling harder at himself as he races towards completion, “Oh god, Wolfram.”
Though he can't think of WHAT he could have done to encourage it.
Aww, screw it. It's not worth worrying about.
Shaking his head, he closes the door to his room and looks around. It fairly whispers Wolfram's name. He's everywhere in here. From the shirt thrown over the chair to the hairbrush with strands of blonde hair caught in it to the clothes taking up half his wardrobe. It makes him happy.
Dinner was absolutely wonderful, as always. The ladies really outdid themselves. With a loud groan, Yuuri collapses into bed and snuggles into the soft mattress. Long, long day. It’s still a little early to sleep, but he just wants to relax for a little.
His jacket and shirt already discarded onto the floor as he came in, his shoes and socks quickly join them along with his belt that clanks noisily as it hits the chair. Rolling over with a pleased hum, he buries his face into the nearest pillow, breathing in deeply as he closes his eyes.
His pillow smells like Wolfram. ♥ Well, it should, as it’s really Wolfram’s pillow, but it’s his right now for the moment and he hugs it enthusiastically to prove his point, swinging one leg around it as well. No one can take his great smelling pillow away from him, HA HA HA! With a happy little sigh, he wiggles against it and closes his eyes with a peaceful sigh.
………
Mmmm, yeah, a cat-nap maybe. Dozing until Wolfram comes in or it is time to read to his daughters. Just him and his pillow.
……….
He rolls over onto his back with a little grunt, crossing his arms over his head and stares at the canopy-ed ceiling. Why couldn’t he rest? Long day, full stomach, what was he missing? One arm comes back down so that his hand lays gently on his stomach, raising and falling with his breathing as he closes his eyes.
One T-Zhou, twooo T-Zhou, three T-Zhou, fooour T-Zhou…
Nope, not working. He opens his eyes again and slips his hand under the waistband of his pants to scratch himself. Thinking about it now, he has NEVER heard of the Mazoku counting sheep. Maybe they count something else, like sand pandas.
Then again, maybe he was just getting too used to sharing a bed and was unconsciously noticing that that person was not in bed beside him. Or on top of him. Or under him.
His cock twitches in agreement; Wolfram was good no matter what position he chose.
Quickly rolling over onto his side, his cheeks turning slightly pink, he let his mind drift back to the past few weeks. A month ago he wouldn’t have let Wolfram even kiss him. Now they did just about everything that normal couples did. They hadn’t actually made it out on a formal date (which is something he hoped to fix once everything calms down), but sex, they DID have sex.
Cursing under his breath, Yuuri struggles with the button on his back uniform trousers and sucks them off. They sail through the air and hit the bed post where they hesitate a moment before crumpling down, hanging off the bed like a loose tooth. Not that Yuuri notices this, he’s far to busy, his hand down his underwear and his eyes closed.
Slowly, not quite committed to this yet, he runs his thumb down the length, light and fleeting. Almost at once Wolfram’s face comes to mind with the memory of the evening events after the ball; the pawing at each other with youthful enthusiasm, the uncertain and excited exploration. Wolfram had touched him, but with a firmer hand. Yuuri adjusts his grip in attempted mimicry and groans softly, pushing his hips up into his hand and rubbing his face into his pillow. … that smells like Wolfram.
Someone was nice enough to fix up their room after Anissina’s transformation of it into some sort of love nest. But they had left all the … presents in a drawer by the bed, everything neatly lined up and ready for use. He had discovered this on accident a few days ago and had tried to forget about it until now.
Avoiding some of the more phallic-looking … things, he sorts through the little colored bottles of lubricant, selecting one of green glass at random. Bouncing back into the bed and his lovely pillow, he pulls the stopper out with his teeth and pours some of the liquid inside over his palm, breathing in the scent of something hinted with apple and then slides it back on the night stand where it won’t fall. Laying back down on the bed, he pulls his knees up a little and spreads his legs wide, gripping himself firmly again.
Arousal swells within his chest, rushing at him and stiffens his sex so that it arches towards his belly. Squirming a little, he manages to pull the little back scrap of fabric that passes for underwear down his hips until they settle awkwardly at the base of his thighs.
He can see dark green eyes in his mind as he starts to move his hand on himself, beautiful eyes. Up and down, torturously slow along the length, feeling the flesh harden and begin to throb. His breath comes out in short bursts and he licks his lips thickly as he begins to pump in earnest, shifting his hips back and forth with the motion.
A bead of sweat slides down his hairline and settles on his chin before dropping sharply off onto his collar as he takes a moment to caress his balls before returning his attention to his cock. His free hand slides over his chest, imagining a paler, stronger hand, and tweaks his nipples until he’s groaning in earnest. Wolfram had liked him loud too.
Keeping the hand on his cock going, he slides the other down further. Wolfram liked it inside too. He presses his index finger to his opening and gasps loudly, arching into his hand. “Wolfram.” He thumbs over his slit and can nearly feel feverishly burning skin pressed up against him, keening in his ear, hot and damp, and oh god he can’t ever get enough of that prince.
His underwear slides down to his knees as he moves his hand faster, turning his face into the pillow and breathing in the heady scent of his fiancé that lingers there as he pants wildly and his heart pounds against his ribcage.
“Wolfram,” he moans, pulling harder at himself as he races towards completion, “Oh god, Wolfram.”