Yellow

My first-ever Franz/Albert fic. Not beta-ed. No plot whatsoever. Just something about yellow dresses and… the something else's that go with it. Heheh.

Albert crossdresses. You have been forewarned.

Gankutsuou belongs to all the people it should belong to by the rule of law. And that's that. Sad thing, innit? -Sighs.-

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Albert giggled softly as the silken ruffles tickled his feet.

Oh, if only Franz could see him now.

He shifted as the silk clung to his skin—who said wearing women's clothing was comfortable?—and he took a few more steps, slow and unsure, but with a certain gait. It wasn't long after that Albert was skipping to the beat of his own little waltz, the dress flowing about him like a yellow-colored breeze.

Albert didn't even hear the knock on the door, nor the hum of the wood against carpet as it was pushed open.

"Albert, what are you doing?"

It was only then that Albert was shaken from his reverie, and he jumped, terrified. There, by the door, Franz stood frozen in shock, and disbelief, and… what was that, amusement? Albert stared into Franz's bright, blue eyes, and thought he saw something indescribably intense, which he immediately dismissed as a playful trick of the mind.

Albert knew, by the way that Franz's shoulders were shaking, that the man was near to hysterical laughter. Albert pouted, tanned cheeks washed with a deep, rosy blush.

It never even crossed Albert's mind how endearing he looked at that moment, with that yellow summer dress, and the boyish, innocent face, which always seemed to sparkle with life and a certain Albert-esque charm… add the sensual curve of the hips, the small, trim waist, and the entirety of his lithe prepubescent body.

"Albert, you…" And Franz was at a loss for words. This was the most awkward situation he had ever been in. He couldn't deny, though, that he was enjoying every minute of it. He enjoyed every minute he had with Albert, so to speak.

"So what if I'm wearing Mama's dress?" Albert defended haughtily, in an attempt to uphold whatever dignity was left of him. Darn Franz just had to show up at the wrong time. Darn himself, too, for wanting Franz to show up at this wrong time.

Franz didn't reply, or even move, as if transfixed on the doorway. He was now looking at Albert thoughtfully, which made the latter squirm with discomfort, and, this he thought with a secretive smile, happiness at being Franz's center of attention.

They lapsed into silence, resorting to just staring at each other, then hanging their heads in embarrassment, while all the time, scuffling their feet nervously. For a moment, Albert considered slamming the door at Franz's face, for being such a jerk by not saying anything, and not doing anything. He hated Franz for being the serious boy that he was even at such a time, while he, he was going out of his bounds just to get some fun out of him, and to put some life into their relationship which, as of late, was becoming sedate, and almost distant.

Of course, this was a stupid thing to cry over. But Albert, being Albert, found Franz's reaction a bit too overwhelming—he just knew Franz was disgusted with him now, though he couldn't explain why the blonde boy wasn't running away, tearing at his hair—and Albert was all too suddenly wrenched with sobs, the kind that makes your heart plummet to the ground in guilt, his snot in danger of running down his nose.

This alarmed the blonde greatly—Franz, you insensitive moron!—for time had taught him how Albert has always taken things seriously, especially feelings, and Franz knew that Albert must've read his behavior all wrong. He loved the dress. Oh wait, no, he loved the dress on Albert. Normally he would've have chuckled, how naïve and immature they were, but there was his sobbing best friend to be comforted, and in no time did his strong arm snake around the boy's shoulders, the other round his waist, his hand resting at the crook of his hip. Albert's head fell almost instantly against Franz's chest, as if it was really where it should be, and they stayed like that for a few minutes, and some more, because both of them didn't really want to let go, as they found the position just warm and cozy for their liking.

"You know, Albert…" Franz began, as Albert's sobs subsided into sniffles. "I really do like the dress."

Albert was smiling now. "'It's kinda weird. It wouldn't fit into place, and it feels tight around the tummy," he complained.

"Well, we'd have to do something about that, yes?" Albert completely missed the wicked glint in Franz's eye, but he did see the lazy, satisfied smile that had crossed the boy's lips. Albert felt like he would burst—he had never felt so happy before, and he laughed, and Franz did that as well, yellow silk about them in waves, their honest friendship, and perhaps something a bit more sweeter, warming them like all the shared summer days.

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I never meant it to end sappy. Augh, ewwwwness. -Sweat.-