Wimp - Oneshot

.

.

.

.

.

I'm standing in the middle of the room with only a pair of cotton pants. I have the bottom half of the pajamas and Yuuri the upper half. Everything's his fault, of course it is.

Any person would be capable of foreseeing a storm just by looking at the sky. At least anyone who pays attention to the nature like you should, and since his tendency is water, he should be even more susceptible to these little signals. But no, he never gets anything. And since mama Jennifer is missing, the clothes hanging outside suffered the consequences too.

My chest is exposed and I'm barefoot. I want to finish arranging some things before resting. To endure a little more cold is not an issue, since tonight we have double blankets and the body heat of two people helps a lot in a reduced space. But there's something bothering me.

Yuuri's staring at me.

I can't see him, but I can feel perfectly how his eyes are fixed on the back of my head since we changed. I would like to think he's staring because he likes what he's seeing, but that's not the case. Although I can't know what he's thinking, I already know him well enough to know that his secretive looks are destined only for women.

The first time we encountered face to face I thought he was only an uncultured scrounger and an opportunist, who was also very rude and insolent despite his good looks. It would've been easy to think he's just a pretty face who expects to get all he wanted with those looks, but in the end Yuuri seems to have too many self esteem issues that I'll never understand. As he says, the difference is because of our cultures. At least I got to understand him better with time, but I'll probably still have a lot to learn.

His innocence gives me peace of mind, but at the same time it worries me a lot. He's never aware of the situations he's in. It's very obvious he'll never get truly involved with some man, but sometimes it's incredible how much he can tempt people just with one or two sentences from his mouth. That I trust in him doesn't mean I have to trust in others. That's why another of my obligations is to protect him from the ones who feel attracted by his good qualities.

But if we're talking about women everything's different. I came to the conclusion that he already understands the position he's in and his noble obligations that bond him with me. But he never gave up his instincts, at least the right to watch. Even when he does it with dissimulation it's easy to notice how much time he spends admiring skirts and cleavages. It doesn't bother me, it's even amusing how he's capable of remaining naive despite everything. Anyways, he knows I know and that he has my silent permission to do as he wishes as long as he maintains his composure.

But sometimes I think it would be nice to be the object of one of these glances. Although I can notice his gazes at other people in secret, I also can notice if he's glancing at me sometimes. Especially when we're in the baths, or changing clothes before going to bed. I don't have any complaint against it.

But right now it's different. There's something that bothers me about the situation. I turn around at once and look straight into his eyes.

—What?

—Nothing.

He doesn't look away like I was expecting him to, and his face has a serious expresion. I don't give up and I manage to make him look away. Only a few minutes later his eyes are again over me, he's displeased about something. It's bothersome when he starts acting like this. I keep looking at him and he feels the need to talk.

—You have more muscles than me... —his voice sounds too soft.

—Ah?

—That you have more muscles than me —he repeats louder and turns at me— Just look...! What's this? It wasn't there before —His index finger stabs one of my pecs repeatedly and makes me incline to look at my body— Definitely, this has, like, one more centimeter than before. What did you do to make it bigger?! No matter how many exercises I do, it's too difficult to develop muscles in this place! Even your arms and your abs are noticeable.

Sometimes I don't know what to think about how much he likes to compete against me in these aspects.

—Well... this month I had more training hours than normal. I suppose you're right —I bend my arm and touch my biceps, I barely notice this action offends him even more. He mimics me, and then he inspects me again.

—It's not fair.

I let out a soft laugh, I can't help it. I walk calmly towards the bed and lay down on it. He follows me without hiding his bad mood. The smile on my face doesn't disappear and I'm not concerned about the way he stared at me. I'm laughing at him and I don't feel bad about it, I've been doing it since the day we met.

I cross my arms behind my head and expose as much as possible. I'm going to exhibit openly what makes him angry a little more.

—If you want you can join the training. It's not usual for a king to train with the soldiers, but being such a rookie, and since they're my personal guards, I'm allowing you to.

It wouldn't be a bad idea for him to endure some real training, not the special treatment Weller gives him. These exercises he practies every day are not enough to gain strength even if they're useful in toning up. Even so, it's good he has an everyday routine. But compared with military training that's only child's play. I don't think he'll be able to overcome the full training, but maybe he'll manage to dig some holes and see what's sweat for real.

—No thank you, I don't need it.

Sometimes he can be so temperamental, but if he weren't like that it wouldn't be fun. He takes his place in the bed roughly turned to the other side, I can see his grumpy face and frown. I extend an arm around him and place my hand over his stomach, he quickly slaps it away. He's being difficult, but I was expecting it. I was even encouraging it.

Playing hard, I get him to turn around. We punch a little while playing until I'm able to sit on top of him, his hands over the pillow and his legs locked by mine.

I laugh, I kiss him, he struggles.

The game is over, he also laughs and lets me do whatever I want, like always.

It's not the first time I have permission to do this. I only have to play by his rules. As long as we're in a place he considers safe and nobody's around, it's okay. At this time his closed room is a safe zone, so I allow myself to steal one more kiss. Yuuri's mood is renewed. I get in the bed again and place his head over my shoulder, burying my nose in his hair.

The comfortable position doesn't last, he leaves me alone to get up and turn off the lights. He takes the bed sheet and his place at my chest again so I can hug him. His hand is over my stomach and he mumbles something about a chocolate bar. I don't know what he's talking about, like always. Something sweet before sleeping would be nice. He already pampered me with three coffees from that shop I like, Star-Bu? But if now he gets something like that for me...

Yuuri, I think you're spoiling your fiance too much.

.

.

.

.

.

The end