"It's orange," Wolfram said, holding the neckline right below his chin again. "Why did you pick orange?"
Yuri shrugged lamely, unsure of what to say. He was unsure of what the answer was. "Well, they were out of pink ones, and..." And he let that sort of hang. Wolfram's eyes softened a little, though they had been unusually soft in the first place. A voice in the back of Yuri's head was warning him to quit while he was ahead, but his stupid mouth wouldn't close. "And I thought I'd try blue like your uniform, but they didn't have the right shade, so, um..." He ran out of things to ramble off and stopped.
Wolfram looked... inexplicably happy. It was mildly unsettling, as Yuri was used to seeing him either neutral or infuriated, but this was better. There was something in his eyes that made them shine, and a soft smile formed on his lips. "Yuri..." he trailed off quietly. "You're such a wimp."
Yuri gathered from his tone that that was Wolfram-speak for 'thank you.'
So he quickly said, "You're welcome," and promptly turned around to hide his growing blush. Lying down, he threw the covers back over his head. It was almost midnight; Wolfram's practice had run late. Yuri still wasn't sure why he had waited, or even why he had bought the gift in the first place. The gift was an orange nightgown. As if on queue, the old, pink nightgown flew over his eyes, effectively covering them.
"Don't look," Wolfram was saying, as the inevitable result of this event registered in Yuri's brain. If the nightgown was covering his eyes, it couldn't be covering Wolfram. So...
"What are you doing?" Yuri suddenly spluttered, shooting back up and around again. Wolfram was in the middle of tugging his new nightwear over his head, his lower half just barely blocked by blankets. For some reason, Yuri's nose chose this moment to begin bleeding. He blushed almost as hard as Wolfram was, hands flying up to clutch his nostrils.
"Changing, duh," Wolfram answered coyly, and then, more furiously, "And I told you not to look!" Yuri turned his head away quickly, though the anger was oddly diluted.
Everything about this night was odd, from Wolfram's strange sweetness to Yuri's nose suddenly sprouting a leak. He kept his hands firmly clamped over it for a second, whilst his fiancé smoothed out some wrinkles and adjusted the shoulders. Then one slipped off and he tilted his head, grinning.
"But the real question is, is this one going to work any better than the last one?" The laugh that followed was freakishly sinister. "Is it going to..." and here Wolfram paused to creep a little closer, now crawling on hands and knees. This allowed the gentle fabric, a little too large for his supple frame, to fall down, thusly, allowing a decent view of said frame. "...Keep me warm at night?"
Yuri backed up until he felt the edge of the bed under his fingers, his gaze never once straying from Wolfram's eyes. They were practically burning holes into his chest. Wolfram's voice was breathy and low.
"I think we should christen it."
Yuri then had exactly enough time to see down to Wolfram's bellybutton through the dropping neckline, catching a glimpse of two pink, perked nipples on the way, before being thrown forcefully off the bed.
His head landed painfully on the cold floor, cushioned only by a barrage of fallen blankets. His legs were pressed up against the bed's edge, his calves still on the surface. His back was arched awkwardly, arms a supporting mess.
Wolfram was equally awkwardly pressed against him, flattened down from head to toe. His nightgown had slid down his body, bunched up at the waist, leaving his legs fully exposed. The orange fabric remained off one shoulder. Wolfram was softly panting.
"Yuri..." Wolfram whispered in his ear, head just to the side of his. The warm breath tickled his skin, and their cheeks were brushing. The warmth was unbelievable; Yuri had to be blushing bright scarlet. Wolfram never finished his sentence.
Yuri had never so much as kissed a girl on the lips, let alone a boy. So naturally, it freaked the hell out of him when he found his fiancé's face directly above is, eyes closing and lips leaning down.
The back of his head was cold and his face was burning, Yuri's back felt sore and his mid-section was numb. The weight of Wolfram atop him was knocking the wind straight out of him. The small, pale hands fisting on his chest were strangely comforting, and the creamy, smooth legs against his own pajama's fabric were doing a number on his brain. His thoughts were all fuzzy and useless.
Then Wolfram jerked back full-force, Yuri still frozen solid.
The handle's turning must have alerted Wolfram, though in Yuri's current state it was no wonder he'd missed it. The door was forced abruptly open, an older man jumping through it. "Your Majesty, I—" He was knocked several steps backwards by an incoming pillow.
"Damn it, Gunter!" Wolfram exploded angrily, reaching up for another pillow and chucking it. He was blushing almost as badly as Yuri. "Get out!"
Gunter dodged the pillow seamlessly, carrying on without pause. "Your Majesty, it's terribly important that you come see these imports fro—"
"Get out!" Wolfram repeated, out of pillows, and therefore resorting to fists. Wolfram leapt off Yuri's chest and dashed for the door, aiming a dodged punch at Gunter and shoving him violently through the frame. The door slammed on Gunter's high-pitched cries of, 'Your Majesty, please!'
When the shock finally wore off, Yuri deflated instantly, head flopping to the floor in a somewhat lifeless manner. "I'll deal with it tomorrow, Gunter," he called, past his still fuming fiancé. "...And you should... you should knock first..." He gave an unsteady laugh, which died off rather quickly.
Then it occurred to him that he was still in pain, so he threw the rest of his body off the bed, feeling it land with a soft 'oomph.' Gunter mumbled something, but seemed to take the hint, if sadly. Wolfram was now stalking back, his otherwise brilliant mood clearly having dissipated.
"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" Wolfram demanded, crawling onto the bed in huff. Yuri felt the blankets tug. "Honestly! Bursting in like that! And just when we were finally..." here he grumbled off, twice as angry as before.
When Yuri regained enough thought process to actually get back on the bed, he found Wolfram facing the opposite direction, curled up and clearly tense. Although Yuri had absolutely no idea what he should do, or even how he felt, he tried to be comforting. Wolfram continued being exceedingly irritated, and answered everything with, "forget it," or, "I don't want to talk about it." The later it got, the louder he shouted.
Yuri finally took the hint, and he went to bed with a sore back and head.
