What better way to celebrate the winter solstice—erm, I mean holidays, than some yummy, cocoa-flavored Yuuram drabble? Maybe it doesn't exactly taste like cocoa…but it does implied shonen-ai. Wolfram's pink nightdress makes me grin so I decided to make it the plot point for my first Kyou Kara Maou fanfic. And a bit of a character study of Yuuri. Really short but I haven't seen enough episodes yet to have a major inspiration. Feel free to inform me of any mess-ups on my part. I don't shun any comments. Please enjoy the cocoa—I mean, boy love!
I don't own KKM…the bribes don't seem to be working…
Yuuri feared pink.
Not just any sort of ordinary pink, but the frilly, pastel type lurking menacingly underneath his sheets, after a long day of running around playing Maou.
Waiting impatiently for his return, feigning a peaceful doze, and draped in that ridiculously colored material — his fiancé.
Some nights, Yuuri deliberately took the floor in fear of getting teeth knocked out as Wolfram irregularly jerked his limbs around in his sleep.
One of these days, he'd kick Wolfram out of his bed.
What on earth was that brat prince thinking anyway, wearing a bizarre thing like that to bed?
It looked like something a ten-year-old girl would wear...NOT an eighty three-year-old, arrogant boy would throw on so nonchalantly.
But Yuuri supposed it couldn't be helped. It's not like he could change Wolfram's mind about his nighttime habits.
No matter how hard he tried...
One evening in particular, he managed to conquer the feat of staying on the mattress a couple hours into sleep when Wolfram's dressing gown somehow in the middle of the night got tangled in the blankets, leaving a courteous view of pale, bare outer thigh out in the open.
Yuuri wondered as his wide, dark eyes skimmed over the seamless, white arc to how a child that grew up to be a ruthless soldier could retain such flawless skin.
And he wondered why it takes the feel of the hem shifting to respectfully cover the exposed flesh to wake the other boy — thus turning into an argument of whether or not Yuuri was trying to take advantage of his defenseless fiancé — and resulting in several new bruises in his shoulder and his bed-mate grumbling obscenities under his breath as he stole the rest of the blankets.
Sometimes Yuuri really hated pink.