Summary: Wolfram is having a craving. However, he knows that if he is caught giving in to it, his carefully maintained 'image' will be ruined. ONE-SHOT ficlet
Such a stupid thing! Of all things, why this? He was a soldier, for Shinou's sake!
So why was he having this stupid craving?
He grumbled to himself. He couldn't help it. The taste was sweet, the texture was moist and warm, and, in its entirety, completely heavenly—
There he went again. He really had to stop doing that.
He cursed Yuuri for doing this. Never, not once, had he ever had problems with this until that wimp of a Maou showed up.
Somewhere down the hall, he heard a clock strike two in the morning.
No one would be up. He wouldn't get caught; and he could always say he heard something…
He left his room. Yes, his. He and Yuuri had had an argument earlier, and Wolfram had childishly gone off to his room. He'd admit to that. But Yuuri had started it.
Wolfram slipped down the halls, a silent phantom in his usual pink, frilly nightgown. His feet barely made a noise against the marble floors.
He reached his destination, and slid the door open. His object of desire was nearly at hand.
He had it in his sight—ten feet left—five—three—
Wolfram practically jumped out of his skin. He spun around, seeing the last person he wanted to see at the moment.
"Y…Yuuri," he greeted awkwardly. He had to come up with an excuse for coming here so late at night. Quick.
Wolfram's wimp smiled brightly at him. "Look, sorry about earlier… I was out of line. That girl was being a little too friendly… I thought about it, and I was being rather naïve. Forgive and forget?"
Wolfram nodded once, frozen in place.
"Oh," Yuuri said, as if it were an afterthought. "I came down for some of this," he said, holding up a piece of Wolfram's sought-after prize. "My eyes are bigger than my stomach, though. How about we share it?"
Wolfram's mouth watered at the thought. But his image and pride got the better of him. "Sweets are for wimps and children," he sniffed.
Yuuri shrugged, and took a bite of the chocolate cake that Effie, their new maid, had made earlier.
Wolfram gulped, but sat down next to his wimp. "Better not tell anyone," he muttered.
Yuuri smiled and promised he wouldn't. He slid the plate between them, and handed Wolfram another fork.
And so, the couple sat, sipping on a glass of milk (Wolfram periodically stole sips from the glass Yuuri had poured for himself when the Maou wasn't looking) and eating a shared piece of cake.
Soon enough, all that was left of the chocolate wonder that was a slice of Effie's masterpiece were a few crumbs on the plate, and a smudge of frosting on Wolfram's lips.
Yuuri smiled sleepily. "Hey, Wolf?"
"Yeah?" Wolfram asked, discreetly slipping their dishes among the other dishes the maids would have to do in the morning.
"Come back to bed with me? It's sort of cold tonight…"
Wolfram felt a blush heat up his cheeks. He didn't reply.
When Yuuri went back up to his room, Wolfram accompanied him.
As the blonde and the double black slipped under the covers, Wolfram noticed Yuuri smiling over at him. "What, wimp?" Wolfram asked, unnerved.
"You have frosting," Yuuri muttered sleepily, "right here." He leaned in and kissed Wolfram, his tongue poking out and licking the sugary treat off Wolfram's lips.
Wolfram turned a bright cherry red that would probably put said fruit to shame.
Yuuri yawned, and closed his eyes. He pulled the blonde closer to him, and soon fell asleep.
Wolfram closed his eyes, satisfied – more than one craving had been satisfied that night.