Events
by Maaya
Alcohol
Yuuri isn't used to drinking and admittedly--though he'd never say it in front of Yuuri--Wolfram isn't either. Their drinks aren't even very strong, only a dry wine because that's what's served for dinner and they are both of age by now. And honestly, the Maou is supposed to be able to handle some alcohol, it'd be pathetic otherwise.
At least, that is what Wolfram slurs randomly, depressingly sloshed after his second glass.
Yuuri is a happy drunk, Wolfram an angry. It's an interesting contrast.
Really. Everything is as usual, only brighter. Familiar but concentrated. And it's not bad.
Rain
The weather the next day suits both their moods--grey; rain. After four glasses, the day after is hazy and Wolfram is feeling sick. Yuuri only wants to lie down, stomach not upset at all, luckily. Or perhaps it's unlucky. Wolfram still insists on sharing his bed, and the sour smell of vomit is usually easier to deal with if it's mixed with one's own.
Yuuri is well-aware of the fact that Conrad finds their misery amusing. And Yuuri wishes Wolfram would leave him alone, damn it if Wolfram gets their bed messy.
And still, everything is pretty much usual.
Kiss
Sometime during the afternoon, Wolfram's sickness fades and Yuuri finds that he can stand up without being attacked by that mountain heavy headache he experienced earlier. The rain still hasn't stopped, the castle is cool, but Wolfram pushes himself up and out of the bed with admirable stubbornness, forcing Yuuri to follow unless he wants to be called a wimp.
Wolfram is all about forgetting this embarrassment has ever happened. He snaps at Yuuri's attempts to talk, making Yuuri wonder--why the hell are Wolfram's lips interesting? They probably taste like vomit still.
Everything is as usual. But it's changed.
end