Chapter Text
Wolfram walked to the baths, alone, undressed, alone, and slipped into the warm water, alone. It’d been about five or six weeks since Yuuri started coming up with excuses not to bathe together. Wolfram had counted the days, at first, but after the first couple weeks it all started to blur together.
When they first got engaged, he’d been baffled by Yuuri’s desire to spend time naked and alone and wet together without having sex. Over time, though, it became a routine he looked forward to- a precious moment in their busy lives for just the two of them, warm and intimate with no pressure to be anything more than what they were.
And somehow he managed to fuck that up.
Things were going so well, too. Yuuri had become a lot more affectionate these past few years, cuddling with him every night, hugging and holding hands with him in public. But bathing together was the one thing Yuuri was always comfortable with, from the very start, so if he didn’t want that anymore, what did that mean? Was there something Yuuri wasn’t telling him?
Suddenly his train of thought is derailed by the familiar smell of the shampoo he’s using. “Shit,” he mutters, trying to put the bottle down as quickly as possible and accidentally knocking it over, breaking it and spilling more of its contents on himself. “Fuck.” How did the bottle even get here? Did his mom sneak it in somehow? He’ll have to remember to give her a piece of his mind next time he sees her.
Not that she would listen.
He’ll just lie low today. He’s seen what this perfume could do- hell, he’d practically tried to kill Yuuri the last time he encountered it. Whatever Yuuri was feeling towards him, good or bad, those were Yuuri’s feelings to have. He’d take that, take the real Yuuri, over some hyperbolic version any day.
Besides, even if it’s far from perfect, he likes their relationship. He likes the peaceful rhythm they’ve found. Better not to disrupt things. Better to avoid Yuuri until the perfume wears off.
—
Yuuri dashes across the hallway he saw his fiance duck into. Wolfram is a lot of things, but stealthy isn’t one of them. He’s clearly been avoiding Yuuri all day, and Yuuri needs to know why.
Whatever it is, they should just talk it over! They’re fiancees, after all. They’ve been through way too much together to hide things from each other. Well…except for certain things that are just way too scary to talk about. But besides those things!
He catches up to Wolfram pretty easily and grabs his arm. Wolfram pulls away, though, and Yuuri doesn’t let go (Yuuri is a lot of things, and stubborn is one of them), and Wolfram’s back lands against the wall and Yuuri lands against Wolfram and- oh.
Wolfram’s face is inches from his, and suddenly Yuuri is seeing that face in more vivid detail than he’s ever seen it before. Every fleck of green in Wolfram’s lake-bottom eyes, every faint sun-kissed freckle on his cheeks, every strand of honey-blond hair is in high definition.
His hands are on Wolfram’s shoulders, and his fingers start to curl involuntarily, gripping Wolfram’s shirt. Has Wolfram always smelled so good?
Wait. He knows that smell. His fingers start to grip Wolfram’s shoulders more tightly. “Who were you with?” he asks, the question coming out more forcefully than he intends.
Either Wolfram is wearing it for someone else, or he’s been with someone else who was wearing it. Yuuri isn’t sure which would be worse.
Wolfram inhales sharply. “It’s not what you think,” he says, attempting to squirm out of Yuuri’s grasp.
“Don’t lie to me,” answers Yuuri, not loosening his grip. “Who were you with?”
“No one!” Wolfram shouts, and suddenly stops struggling, letting Yuuri pin him. His head dips back to rest on the wall, exposing the long line of his neck.
Yuuri suddenly has to resist the urge to pin him down even harder. Why isn’t Wolfram fighting back? He needs an answer, a resolution, he needs Wolfram to push him back and grapple with him and wrestle him and-
“It was an accident,” Wolfram says, tilting his head forward to look directly at Yuuri but otherwise remaining still. “It was in the bath for some reason, and I didn’t realize what it was at first.” His voice is steady, his green eyes locked onto Yuuri’s. “You know I would never betray you.”
“You’re telling the truth?” Yuuri asks, uncomfortably aware of how breathless and desperate his voice sounds.
“Have I ever lied to you?” Wolfram asks in reply.
Surely there must’ve been a time, right? But Yuuri can’t think right now. All he can do is let the sudden tidal wave of relief wash over him. Wolfram is his. Wolfram’s face, still inches apart from Yuuri’s, is flushed, his body still pliant under Yuuri’s grip. He looks so vulnerable, so helpless in Yuuri’s arms and- fuck. How long has he been hard?
Before he knows what he’s doing, he presses himself even closer to Wolfram and grinds their hips together, moving a hand behind Wolfram’s head to grasp his hair. Wolfram lets out a small whimper, and Yuuri can feel Wolfram growing hard against him as Wolfram’s hips twitch slightly. This is really happening, Yuuri thinks, and presses their hips together again.
Suddenly, though, Wolfram’s eyes snap back into focus, and he starts struggling out of Yuuri’s grip. “Stop,” he pants, “We can’t do this.”
“Seriously?” Yuuri asks, feeling the anger seep back into his body. “You don’t want me?”
“Not like this,” Wolfram answers firmly. “You’re compromised. If you feel this way tomorrow, maybe…”
“I want you now,” Yuuri replies, “And I can make my own decisions.”
So can I,” Wolfram says, his green eyes flashing dangerously. “Let go of me.”
Yuuri releases him, shame suddenly replacing his anger. He takes a few steps back, still slightly out of breath.
“There’s an empty room in the soldier’s quarters,” Wolfram says, managing to look cold and aloof even with his clothes rumpled and his hair disheveled. “I’m sleeping there tonight. Don’t follow me.”
Yuuri watches him walk away, and then collapses on the floor, puts his head in his hands, and sits there for a while, taking in deep, shuddering breaths until his thundering heartbeat returns to normal.