A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, follows, and everything! It really warmed my heart that people enjoyed the story so far! My general policy for now is to reply if anyone asks questions in a signed review, otherwise just know you have my appreciation and love. About the characterizations, I hope you're ready for gradual development and, well, Wolfram being an actual teenager.

Devil's Food

Chapter Two: Vol-au-vent

It's funny, really, how few things you truly noticed about everyday objects. Take wood, for example. It just kind of seemed like some stiff brown stuff that could be made into all kinds of useful things. But when you really looked closely at it, there were actually all these different colors in it, making lines and swirly patterns all over the surface.

Such were Yuuri's thoughts as he stared at the smooth material of the carefully polished counter before him. By his estimate, it must have been about an hour since he'd come to the conclusion that his only safe bet was to refuse to look up at all, and thus started his deep contemplation of the hidden nature of wood. In actuality, only something like three minutes had passed, and he hadn't made any note-worthy breakthroughs into understanding the complexities of life and forestry. He couldn't stare at the swirls any longer, he decided abruptly. They were making his head spin.

The unfortunate boy immediately regretted his decision. When he looked up, his treacherous eyes traced a path right back to what he had dubbed the 'danger zone' of the café.

Said 'danger zone' consisted of a table tucked into the corner of the floor, the only table currently occupied during the business lull. Seated there was his co-worker, Wolfram, the blonde boy most unfortunately blessed with the most breath-taking good looks Yuuri had yet to see in his tender fifteen years. He was currently deeply involved in the slow process of devouring a miniature cake, a decadent devil's food one with heaps of sweet vanilla frosting on top. He and that cake were in a world of their own, as was evinced by the light dusting of pleased pink over the boy's cheeks as he chewed slowly with his eyes closed. Not an altogether dangerous sight, one might think. But, oh, one would be wrong.

The primary issue with this scene lay within how difficult it was to look away. Yuuri was certain that it was totally normal to stare at a sight like that, and didn't blame himself one bit for it. Okay, maybe he blamed himself a little when he'd caught himself staring at the other boy's legs, which were properly crossed and still clad in rather small shorts. That hadn't lasted very long, naturally, because that just wasn't something he'd be caught doing. Except that he had been, and that had been when things got dangerous. The irritable young man across the room did not take well to being stared at, it would seem, although he didn't seem to mind when it was a room full of young girls all ogling him. Yuuri twitched at the memory. Just when he thought he'd made a break-through after fifteen years of never attracting any wanted attention, he'd realized that his dazzling co-worker took away all the glances before he even stood a chance. And, in the spirit of fairness, he couldn't really blame the ladies. It was all Wolfram's fault, with his bright green eyes and angelic golden locks. Not to mention the rest of his face.

Crap, he was staring again. Maybe he wouldn't mind that he was so good-looking quite so much if the boy wasn't so… obnoxious. Yuuri didn't like to think ill of others, but Wolfram had seriously left him no choice. The whole work day so far had consisted of one harsh criticism after another, even though Conrad had told his brother to instruct him. Wasn't the rule one reward for two punishments? And yet whenever the newcomer managed a success, it went without comment. But when he failed…

Yuuri sighed and looked away in defeat. Wolfram, who had been glaring in silence ever since he'd noticed the gaze, returned to eating with a quiet huff. That cake had to disappear eventually, or the poor, misplaced baseball boy was going to lose his mind. At the very least, Conrad had to come back soon to take his mind off of all this. He'd found the older man to be reliably good company, despite his rather… off-beat sense of humor.

At the very least, he was easier company than Wolfram and the other brother. Yuuri's eyebrow twitched at the memory of his first meeting with the imposing man. He had suddenly emerged from the kitchen, opening the door right in Yuuri's face, only to glare at him as if scolding him for having the nerve to dare to put his face in the baker's way. And just how the heck could those three all be brothers? Yuuri's poor head was pounding.

Fortunately, the sound of the bell above the door tinkling distracted the boy from his increasingly painful reverie (his forehead still sported the band-aid that a strangely insistent Wolfram had covered the wound with, even). Warm conversation drifted in, which normally would have been a comfort—but he recognized the voices, and suddenly the hair on the back of Yuuri's neck was standing on end.

"Mom!?" he called out in distress, as surely enough his own mother stepped through the door to the café, a grocery bag held in her arms as she talked animatedly to none other than Conrad.

She turned her bright smile to him instead after he'd called for her attention. "Oh, my little Yuu," she cried as she stepped toward the counter, stars in her eyes. "Your mama just has the best luck, always running into handsome strangers! Although I suppose he's not a stranger anymore. And I had just been thinking that I'd need to drop in to check on you during your first day of work…"

Yuuri couldn't bear to listen to the monologue the whole way through, opting instead to cast a despairing glance towards Conrad. The café's owner was standing just behind Jennifer, his usual easy smile on his face.

"I was quite fortunate to run into your mother, Yuuri," he answered the silent appeal to interrupt Ms. Shibuya's rambling. "And she very kindly offered to help me carry back the emergency supplies we needed."

Conrad must have been one of the few people on earth with a disposition so unshakably positive that even his mother couldn't wear him down, Yuuri mused with a sigh. Now that he thought about it, actually, it was really the 'handsome stranger's' fault that he'd been forced into applying for the job in the first place. Did he have any allies!?

Before Yuuri could come up with something to say, Wolfram cleared his throat from his place at the table. Somehow, it seemed that he had managed to devour the remaining cake in such a small amount of time, even though the process of taking a bite had been so painstaking before. Yuuri's mouth hung open in disbelief, making his usual accidental fish impression. Had that torture been intentional?

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your mother, Yuuri?"

Why would I? And what's with that petulant tone? Yuuri thought, but wisely kept the sentiments to himself. He was starting to get the hang of dealing with his co-worker by now, and had learned that snapping back at him only made things worse. Very, very much worse.

"Oh, um," he stuttered a little, "Mom, this is my co-worker, Wolfram…"

Well, this was awkward. He didn't even know his last name. And for some reason, he had the feeling that would somehow offend the proud boy, but when he looked back to Wolfram, he was wearing a strangely satisfied smile. Yuuri really didn't know what to think.

Jennifer spun around from where she stood by the counter, setting the grocery bag down on it. "Oh my," she exclaimed, sounding positively delighted. "Nice to meet you, dear! I'm happy that my Yuu gets to work with such a fine young man."

Fine-looking, maybe, Yuuri's mind supplied unhelpfully in his best sarcastic tone.

"Thank you, Mother," Wolfram said with an eerily charming smile that gave Yuuri shivers (just because it was creepy to see it on his face, of course). "The pleasure is all mine."

Although his mother was busy cooing with joy over this new discovery of Wolfram, Yuuri's mind was at its limits. "Wait, wait, hold on a second," he shouted all at once, before taking a breath and continuing. "Why are you suddenly all polite!? I haven't seen you like that once since I met you, even when you're serving customers! I mean, they'd practically be throwing money at us if you smiled like that… No, no, that's not the point! Why are you calling my mom 'Mother'!?"

By the time the words were done tumbling out of his mouth, Yuuri was red faced and breathing hard, his accusing finger trembling dramatically as he pointed at the other boy.

"What else do you expect me to call her, when you don't even have the courtesy to tell me her name?" Wolfram scoffed, his arms crossed against his chest.

"You can call me Jennifer," Miko supplied helpfully from the side lines, while her son huffed and puffed, spluttering a little. "Or Mama!"

The silent stand-off (if it could be called that) between the two boys continued for another moment before Conrad's calm voice broke it off prematurely. This was rather fortunate, indeed, since the only likely conclusion was Yuuri's mind simply giving up and him passing out. "Thank you, Ms. Shibuya, for all your help bringing these back. Could I offer you a complimentary pastry for your efforts, perhaps?"

Somehow, Yuuri could imagine a single twinkle coming off of Conrad's perfect teeth as he smiled.

Jennifer giggled, sounding positively delighted. "Oh, you're too kind! I'd be honored. And it's Jennifer, please," she practically purred, stars in her eyes.

Her son buried his forehead into his open palms, counting down from one hundred in his head. Having to witness his own mother flirting was particularly high on Yuuri's list of 'Experiences I would very much like to never have again.' Much to his surprise, while he was attempting to block out the outside world entirely, he felt the weight of a hand drop onto his shoulder. Cautiously, he cracked an eye open, only to see that it was none other than Wolfram, who had made his way over from across the café while Yuuri had been busy pitying himself. The even greater surprise was that the usually irritated boy was actually looking at him with an expression that spoke of sympathy, if not even commiseration. He barely had time to blink, however, before the image and hand both were gone, and he had to wonder if it had just been some angelic vision borne from heaven's sympathy, which just happened to look exactly like Wolfram.

When Yuuri's mind came back down to reality, his mother's brown eyes were shining as she waved at him, her mouth still busily chattering away. "Now, have a good time for the rest of your shift, Yuu! Mama will have dinner ready and waiting on the table when you get back home."

"O, okay," he gulped, grateful that she was leaving of her own volition (he'd never hear the end of it if he forced her out the door). "Thanks, mom."

"Mama, Yuu! Mama," Jennifer tossed over her shoulder as she stepped outside, leaving a slightly bewildered silence in her wake. Yuuri felt vaguely guilty for being so grateful that his mother was gone, although he was still mildly worried about the terribly flirty atmosphere from before. And now that he thought of it, it seemed like Conrad was still smiling in the general direction of the door.

"I hope you two managed the store well without me," he said after a moment of silence, a slightly amused overtone to his voice.

Wolfram, from where he was now leaning with one elbow over the glass counter, huffed, without even bothering to lift his eyes from the collection of cakes beneath. "Of course we did," he answered before Yuuri could pipe in. "For a wimp, Yuuri did learn how to deal with customers pretty quickly."

The way he had said it was completely nonchalant, but now something seemed suspicious about the avid stare concentrated on the line of pastries. Yuuri, for his part, wasn't sure if he had been insulted or complimented. His stomach wasn't sure if it should be roiling with indignant anger or dancing with butterflies. Wait, why would his stomach be doing either of those things? Right, he'd skipped lunch.

"It's not so hard for my first job," Yuuri opted to actually answer Conrad instead, with a sheepish smile. He still felt a little weird about actually getting hired so easily. Didn't it normally take more than one whirlwind day before you were on the team?

"I'm glad, Yuuri," Conrad nodded serenely. He really was like some sort of saint.

There was a moment of silence. To Yuuri, this seemed not like a moment but rather a stretch across eternity during which only the sound of the clock ticking filled the café. Sweating a little, he wondered why it had been so long since customers had come into the shop, anyways. What broke the silence was not a smiling female customer like the boy had been hoping, but rather the familiar tones of Mito Koumon's classic opening theme. And the only source of that could be… his cellphone!? Yuuri jumped, his hands flying up from where they'd been resting on the counter. He wasn't exactly a social outcast, but most of the phone calls he received were from one of two people. His mother had just left, so she was scratched off the list. This only left… his over-protective, paranoid older brother. Goose bumps rose off his skin as Yuuri turned dramatically towards the coat rack his bag was hanging off of in the back corner. The whole bag shook a little as his old phone desperately tried to make the caller's intent known. He stared motionlessly for a few seconds, just listening to his ringtone.

Conrad coughed politely. "You can pick it up, you know," he indicated the general area of the phone with a wave of his hand, "Wolf and I can handle any customers that might come in. Don't worry about it."

Gulping, Yuuri nodded. Now there was no escape route. Even Shouri would have had to understand if he'd been unable to pick up because he was on the job. His mind filled with unpleasant scenarios that may have warranted the phone call, Yuuri trudged on over to the coat rack. He quietly prayed that the caller would hang up during the time it took him to fumble through the contents of his bag, but sadly the phone was still vibrating when his hand made contact with it. Resigned, Yuuri flipped the old, clunky thing open before pressing it to his ear.

"Hello," he dredged out, practically cringing in preparation for a verbal onslaught from the other line.

Much to his surprise, a much quieter voice responded. "Shibuya?"

It was Murata Ken's voice. Yuuri's eyebrows shot up in surprise before he smiled, deeply relieved. So it wasn't exactly normal for his friend to call out of the blue, but it meant he'd at least avoided his older brother another day. "Murata! Hello!" he answered all too cheerily, silently praising the other boy as his savior from the frightening brother-complex.

If he noticed the sudden change in tone, the caller didn't mention it. "I was wondering where you were. I didn't see you along the normal route!"

"Ah," Yuuri sucked in a breath. It had become a sort of routine since the beginning of the school year that the two met up along the way home. Just earlier that year, Murata had been innocently making his way by the park when he'd met Yuuri outside of class for the first time—and nearly had his nose flattened by a stray baseball. The bare miss, only avoided by an epic dash on Yuuri's part, had been a bit of a catalyst to making them into actual friends. It figured that they would only become close after graduating from the class they'd shared and going into separate high schools. "I was just in a rush," he explained quickly, not wanting to go into any further detail.

"I see," Murata said evenly, and yet to Yuuri it sounded like a clever shroud concealing the fact that he already knew everything behind the excuse. He probably did.

See, Murata was certainly his friend. Yuuri knew that much. At least, he thought so, most of the time. But he had also figured out fairly quickly into their friendship that the boy was a bit…eccentric. This did not make him any different from all of the other people close to Yuuri, but it did mean that he was not particularly eager to introduce him to the rest of the bunch. It was bad enough that he had already befriended his mother… Yuuri shivered a little, before tuning back in to the phone call.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "You didn't call just for that, though, did you?"

"Ah, you saw right through me!" Listening to his friend's voice, Yuuri could visualize all too easily the dangerous smirk he could get, and the way his glasses somehow managed to reflect light specifically when he was plotting. "I actually was wondering if you were free this Saturday, after school."

Now that hadn't been the evil master plan Yuuri had anticipated. He blinked, glancing sideways at his phone as if it could transmit his suspicion to Murata on the other end. Actually, knowing Murata, he probably could guess already just how Yuuri was eying his phone. "I guess I am," he answered, before he'd actually had time to think it through. A second later, he remembered that he now had a job—a fact he had managed to forget while standing in his very workplace. His free hand flew up to slap his own forehead as he groaned.

"Oh, come on, it's not so bad hanging out with your old buddy Muraken once in a while, is it?"

"It's not that," Yuuri gritted out miserably. "As long as it's not Sea World again, I guess…"

"Nope, no dolphins this time!" Murata's sunny voice answered. "I was actually hoping you'd come to my school's festival. They're really desperate to get more people to come and support the event, and my class president's been begging everyone since the start of the school year… plus, she's a real looker."

Yuuri sighed at the waggish tone in his friend's voice. Sometimes he really wondered about the other boy. "Fine, fine," he sighed. "I'll see you there, then. I have some stuff going on the rest of the week, so I might be in a hurry after school still…"

He dragged off, hoping Murata wouldn't pursue the obviously dubious excuse. It was only really half an excuse, anyways. Relief flooded him when Murata just said, "Sure thing, Shibuya! Tell Mama I said hi!" before hanging up.

Yuuri only realized how tense he'd been when all the tightness released from his shoulders at the sound of his phone clicking shut. It felt something like just barely touching base before the ball made contact with the catcher's glove.

"Sorry about that." He shot an apologetic glance at Conrad as he headed back to the counter, even though from the sounds of it a single customer had still yet to appear.

Conrad just shook his head, the usual grin on his face. "Hardly a problem, not during a dead hour like this."

By the time Yuuri was back in place, he noticed that a certain blonde had been oddly silent on the matter, when his usual pattern was to immediately chime in with some sort of double-edged comment. When he looked to where Wolfram was still standing, he was met with a fierce green glare (and wow, he couldn't wait until those eyes were no longer quite so impressive to look at, although something told him it would take a while to get used to something like that). Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask what he'd done wrong, though, his co-worker had pushed himself up off from the counter and stomped his way over to the back door. It slammed behind him, but that was about the only sound in the café for the next minute.

"Well," Conrad started eventually, seeing Yuuri's confused dismay, "he has a lot on his mind."

That didn't really help. Yuuri grumbled a little, dramatically slumping down on the counter. "I give up! No matter what I say or don't say, I make him angry. Don't you have any advice, Conrad?"

"Regretfully, I don't, Yuuri." He'd said 'regretfully,' but Conrad was still smiling as he regarded the lamenting newcomer. "But you've already managed to get along with him quite well, it seemed to me."

"What!?" The expression practically exploded forth from Yuuri's mouth. He looked at Conrad as if he had just told him that he was from Mars, or actually a member of some demon race, or something. He practically had. "If that's getting along…"

"He has his own ways of expressing himself," Conrad answered with all too much mirth in his voice. There was also a certain sense of finality emanating from the statement, almost a warning that he wouldn't speak any more on the subject.

Although he grumbled a little more, tossing his head to the side to look imploringly at his employer, Yuuri didn't ask about Wolfram anymore. That didn't mean that he didn't have some other concerns left to voice without delving into that territory, however. "I've been meaning to ask, though… who was that lady from yesterday, um…" he trailed off, testing a few different names against his memory, before declaring triumphantly, "Anyshina!"

Conrad chuckled heartily at his guess, but somehow it sounded kind enough that Yuuri didn't even feel offended. "Anissina," he corrected once he'd gathered his wits. "She's Gwendal's childhood friend, actually."

"Ehh!?" Yuuri found himself calling out for the second time in that conversation alone, straightening up from where he'd been slouched over. "That grumpy ponytail guy has someone like her as a childhood friend?"

His shoulders rising and falling as he laughed quietly, Conrad nodded. "He does indeed. Her family's been friends with ours for a few generations now, back in Germany. She's just visiting for now, to keep an eye on us men."

"Germany!" Yuuri's mouth hung open in an 'o' shape as comprehension dawned. So they were all from abroad, then. "But then…" he dropped into a contemplative silence as the cogs worked in his head. One question in particular kept popping back up. "How do you all speak such perfect Japanese?"

"Didn't you notice?" Conrad was clearly trying to conceal his mirth, but his smile betrayed him. "Wolfram has a bit of an accent. He probably thinks you've already noticed it. He's quite self-conscious about it, but it can hardly be helped. He's the only one of us who didn't spend a good deal of his youth here."

Yuuri grabbed hold of a few clusters of his hair, cradling his head in his hands. He tried to re-play Wolfram speaking in his mind, but his memory hadn't picked up on any flaws in the other boy's Japanese at all. As a matter of fact, the only flaws coming to mind were personality flaws… "He sounds fine to me," he muttered quizzically at last. "I really don't get him… or any of this!"

Conrad chuckled a bit more as Yuuri threw his hands up into the air with a strangled cry of defeat. "We've all had to move around quite a bit," he offered as a consolatory explanation. "But, hopefully, things should settle down for him at least, now."

"Maybe he'll stop yelling so much, then…" Yuuri muttered, half to himself.

"You should go back there and talk things out with him," Conrad gestured to the door, his tone encouraging. "He'll be happy, I'm sure."

Yuuri laughed a little, suddenly feeling awkward. "Does that mean he'll hit me?"

Conrad's laughter soon joined in, but once it subsided, he looked very much serious about the matter. Gulping, Yuuri eventually resigned himself to the task. After all, he'd probably been judging his co-worker too harshly, thinking he'd just led some spoiled life as a rich and beautiful kid. But it wasn't in his nature to be spiteful over material advantages like that, and he really did want to get along. He nodded decisively before peddling around, and only then did he remember what he'd needed from Conrad from the start.

"Oh, wait!" he called out loudly, seemingly out of nowhere, before turning back to his boss. "Could I take a day off this Saturday? I know I already asked for the late shift on Thursday, but just this one Saturday…" Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, clasping his hands together in an apologetically beseeching motion.

When Conrad 'hmm'ed thoughtfully, Yuuri thought he was doomed. He opened his eyes cautiously, only to see that the usually serene man was frowning contemplatively. He gulped.

"I suppose we could manage," Conrad answered eventually, sounding reluctant. "Since you did agree to work so many hours on such short notice, it only seems fair."

With a relieved smile, Yuuri did a little celebratory dance (which just consisted of stepping back and forth a few times while swinging his arms). "Thank you, Conrad! I'll make it up to you by getting along with Wolfram from now on," he said, and wished it hadn't come off as quite so much of a joke.

Conrad seemed to take it as one, anyways, if his amused smile was any indication. "Good luck," he called after Yuuri's retreating form as he bravely stepped into the back area of the café.

What he saw once he stepped into the only partially lit little hallway surprised him. Wolfram was standing there, leaning against the door to the kitchen, seemingly engrossed in typing away on his cellphone. His skin looked particularly pale with the odd lighting from the electric screen. It took Yuuri a moment to realize that he was staring, and also that a strangely cute little creature was dangling from the foreign, expensive-looking cellphone. The phone-strap looked almost like a teddy bear, but with butterfly wings—no, that wasn't quite right. It seemed more like a bee than a butterfly, for some reason he couldn't place. Yuuri figured it was some mascot figure popular with Europeans. He had to admit that it was cute.

Suddenly feeling a little awkward at his entrance going totally unnoticed, Yuuri cleared his throat politely. Wolfram's head immediately snapped up, his eyes wide. Within the next second, the phone had been slammed shut and shoved into the classy bag Yuuri hadn't even noticed before then, which was hidden away with the spare uniforms.

"Wait, if there are spare uniforms, why are you still wearing the shorts version?" His mouth moved to voice the question as soon as the implication set in, without giving him time to remember his real purpose. Yuuri cursed himself only once it was already too late.

Wolfram huffed before replying all too quickly, "I'll have you know, that you happen to have received the rest of the pairs of the regular length pants in my size!"

"Well, sorry for being the same size," Yuuri mumbled petulantly, returning the glare he got in response.

"Did you come back here just for something trivial like that?" Wolfram spat out, looking severely irked. "What does it matter to you what I wear, anyways?"

"No, no!" Yuuri cried, shaking his head as he reminded himself not to get caught up in bickering again. "I wanted to ask you what was the matter, actually."

Now that seemed to throw Wolfram for a total loop. He stared at Yuuri for a moment before coloring slightly, although Yuuri thought it might just be his imagination in the poor lighting. "Wh- what?" he asked after a moment, his mouth twisted uncertainly.

"You got upset and ran back here earlier, didn't you? What happened? Did I do something?" Yuuri lifted his hands up in a gesture of surrender, smiling his best peace-maker smile.

When he saw Wolfram's reaction, Yuuri thought he might understand the other boy just a little bit. If he believed Conrad, at least, Wolfram was happy that someone had thought of him—and maybe a bit embarrassed, and then that embarrassment turned into anger. It seemed far-fetched to Yuuri, especially since it really looked like Wolf was just pissed at him. (Oh no, he'd have to be careful not to call him 'Wolf' out loud; Conrad's nickname for his brother was accidentally catching!)

"Who says it has anything to do with you!?" Wolfram exploded all at once, his body turned away defensively, with his arms crossed over his front.

"Oh, I did kind of notice it," Yuuri was speaking before he could stop himself again, a proud smile on his face. "But it's only when you start talking too fast because you're mad, I think. Most of the time your Japanese sounds totally natural!"

Wolfram's mouth hung open in disbelief, his cheeks suffused with color. "Wh… what…!" he half-choked out, and for a moment Yuuri was afraid he was going to pass out. He didn't, however, and actually only seemed to transfer more of his energy into getting angry. "Are you simply looking for criticisms to give me? Do you think I don't already know that I have an accent…! You, you…"

If he kept breathing like that, Wolfram would surely pass out, Yuuri thought. "No, no!" he cried defensively, waving his hands in what was hopefully a calming gesture. "I just meant that you hardly have an accent at all. And anyways, you're the one looking for things to criticize me on all the time!"

Something about that seemed to at least partially pacify Wolfram. If things kept up at this rate, Yuuri could already sense that soon enough he'd have a 'Wolfram anger meter' worked out in his mind. Right now, he'd guess that Wolfram had just dropped from a 10 to an 8. At the very least, he'd gone from 'yelling' to 'pouting,' it seemed.

"Was that your girlfriend on the phone?" he snapped after a lull of silence.

Yuuri almost thought he'd misheard. "Wha…?" His mouth hung open, totally flabbergasted as he was. Now that had truly come from nowhere. "That was…" Actually, the thought of Murata as his girlfriend was positively hysterical. Even the thought of him having a girlfriend was kind of funny, as much as he hated to admit it—he'd never even gotten a prank love letter before. He was laughing before he knew it, clutching at his abdomen as he shook with peals of laughter.

"What!?" Wolfram shouted, his hands on his hips as he directed a fierce glare at his co-worker, who still hadn't managed to stop laughing. "Are you making fun of me?"

Just as he looked to be making to flee, Yuuri held out his hands in a gesture for Wolfram to stop. "No, no," he managed to breathe, calming down from the fit of mirth. "That was just a friend from school. He's a guy, anyways. Although I don't get why it matters…"

He still couldn't help but smile, although he really wondered why Wolfram looked so embarrassed. Maybe he didn't have a girlfriend himself, and the thought that someone like Yuuri did hurt his pride. Something about it wouldn't have surprised Yuuri. He was like a little scruffy dog while Wolfram was some… majestic lion or something.

"It doesn't," the blonde huffed, not looking Yuuri in the eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn't a lion, but rather one of those fluffy little dogs that were always getting pampered by their rich lady owners, yet still never stopped yapping.

A Pomeranian, Yuuri decided, barely managing to keep it to himself. A yapping Pomeranian.

"Anyways," Wolfram was saying as Yuuri contemplated dog metaphors, "I was thinking that you'd better give me your number. Knowing how your mind works, you could very well forget to even come in at all, and you'll need me to remind you."

Yuuri blinked at Wolfram, who was for all appearances completely serious about this. He looked mighty haughty, too, but he did seem to be blushing a little. For his part, Yuuri wasn't sure if he should be insulted or complimented, but he decided not to even think about the complimented option (after all, why would he feel happy about a guy asking for his number?).

"Um," Yuuri managed to say before Wolfram's phone was pushed into his fingers, which wrapped around it before he could think about it too much. "Okay, I guess," he laughed awkwardly as he stared at the menu for a second. None of it was written in Japanese, but since he could read roman characters, at the very least, it was fairly easy to figure out how to put his name and number in there.

When Yuuri had stopped typing, Wolfram all too quickly plucked the phone back out from his fingers, checking the new information with a satisfied smirk. "Great," he said as he pulled his bag out to drop the phone back in, "now I'll be able to check in on you when business demands it."

"Right, right," Yuuri laughed awkwardly, sweating a little. The excuse seemed odd, even to someone with as thick a skull as his, but he didn't want to risk commenting on it. He quietly hoped that Wolfram wouldn't end up sending him barrages of texts throughout the day, berating him for random behaviors of his choosing. Actually, hopefully he wouldn't use the number at all.

Okay, so maybe he didn't quite hope that. He kind of hoped that he did end up using it, just a little. So that we can become friends, of course, Yuuri thought with a smile. It just wasn't in his nature to have such a tense relationship.