DRESS THE PART

YurixWolfram, PWP, lemon

For gwy

 

 

 

“What does it matter what I think?  It’s your new state uniform, for heaven’s sake.”  Wolfram stood behind his fiancé, hands on hips, examining the other young man’s reflection in the full-length mirror.  He was bored with this, and irritated by Yuri’s indecision.  Yuri twisted to look at himself in his new ceremonial uniform, turning one side, then the other.  He frowned, looking uncertain.

 

“But does it fit properly?  I thought you’d be more help than this.”

 

Wolfram grimaced.  “Excuse me for my design shortcomings.  I have staff to arrange my own wardrobe.  You should have that too.”

 

Yuri flushed.  “No, that’s too embarrassing.  I wanted the advice of… a friend.”

 

Wolfram was still watching the flush, thinking how fetching it looked on Yuri’s pale skin, against his tousled dark hair.  He looked older somehow, in the formal uniform.  Yuri was slender, but he stood with a certain grace; a certain regal bearing.  Wolfram cleared his throat which seemed a little tight.

 

“Perhaps I do have a thought.”

 

“What?”

 

“A thought about you… in that outfit.”

 

Yuri’s eyes narrowed at the sharp tone of the other boy’s voice.  Wolfram wasn’t usually reluctant to give his opinions.  Wolfram had always been indulged, had rarely had to defer to anyone, therefore he always demanded his own way.  Yuri had to admit he found him a strange, infuriating mixture – sometimes he found him ridiculous, sometimes he found him intimidating, and sometimes he found him just totally…

 

Yuri looked up suddenly to find Wolfram staring at him in the mirror.  Had he said something aloud?  The blond young man was frowning at him in a strange way.  Something in the intense blue eyes made Yuri shiver.  It was a disturbingly pleasant shiver.

 

“What is it?”  Yuri was annoyed with himself, sounding so breathless, but Wolfram didn’t laugh at him.  Instead, he stepped a couple of feet nearer until he was standing right up against Yuri’s back.  He put his hands on Yuri’s shoulders.

 

As Yuri watched the blond head against his own dark one in the reflection, Wolfram hooked his fingers under the epaulettes of the new jacket and tugged it down off Yuri’s arms.  Then he slipped a hand round to the front of Yuri’s neck and flipped open the top button of his starched shirt.  His fingers were warm against the other man’s cool skin.  His hand slipped further down inside the bright white fabric, teasing out two more buttons.  Then the third.

 

“Wolfram,” said Yuri, his voice a little shaky.  “I have to get this fitting done -”

 

“Later,” murmured Wolfram.  His voice was unusually hoarse.  “You see, my thought about this outfit is…”  He dipped his head to the pale skin at the junction of Yuri’s neck and his shoulder and he put his lips to it, very gently.  “… that I want to see you out of it.”

 

Yuri flushed.  “Not now,” he whispered.

 

“Yes, now,” Wolfram replied, just as quietly.  He tugged the shirt out of Yuri’s close fitting pants and slipped his hands across the exposed skin of his belly.  Goose bumps ran over the whole of Yuri’s flesh.  He sucked in his breath.

 

“There’s no time for fooling around, Wolfram.”  Firstly, he was embarrassed and worried that someone like Gunter would come in and find them in disarray like this.  Secondly, he was unnerved by the sudden, predatory gleam in Wolfram’s eye.  He really thought he’d explained to him enough times that he wasn’t used to the romantic attentions of a young man like himself, even if that young man was arrogant and possessive and determined in most things he did and…

 

Pretty damned hot.

 

Wolfram’s hand slipped down inside the front of Yuri’s pants.  Yuri groaned, rather loudly.

 

“Oh, but I think this is the perfect time to fool around,” Wolfram hissed in his ear.  “Just watch us.”

 

Yuri stared into the mirror.  His face looked flushed and his pupils were dilated.  His shirt was wide open, his skin glistening with a very fine sweat all the way from his throat to his navel.  His chest was heaving suddenly as if he’d been running. Wolfram’s face was also in the reflection, but his body was half hidden behind Yuri.  The only thing Yuri could see clearly were Wolfram’s long, elegant fingers, which were splayed across his stomach, pressing firmly into his skin, feeling their way across him, making tracks that were alternately white and then flesh-coloured again.  Yuri glanced down and saw the button of his pants was now undone.

 

When Wolfram bumped into him, he nearly apologised, though he knew it wasn’t his fault.  He flung his hands out in front of him and steadied himself against the mirror. He was bent forward, his ass sticking out behind him.  Wolfram’s hands gripped at his waist and Yuri realised the other man was tugging down his pants.  “No, wait,” he gasped, but Wolfram didn’t.  Yuri was balanced precariously against the mirror, and before he could get his feet stabilised again, his pants were in a pool of cloth around his ankles and he was in nothing but his shirt and boxers.

 

“What on earth are they?” came Wolfram’s startled voice. 

 

“Huh?”  Yuri glanced at their reflection, the two heads framed by his arms, rigid against the cool glass.  It was difficult to see anything clearly with his nose this close to the mirror. Wolfram was gazing down with fascination at Yuri’s underwear.  Yuri blushed angrily.  “It’s what I wear.  Is that so unusual?”

 

Wolfram was laughing softly.  “You’ll find out,” he murmured.  He leant against Yuri, pushing him further down and bracing his arms more tightly.  Yuri peered at the reflection again, seeing the blond head bobbing behind his back.  Wolfram’s hands slid under his shirt, hitching it up under his armpits.  Something hot and wet and feeling suspiciously like a tongue ran itself down his bare spine.  Yuri felt his groin twitch with sudden, instinctive desire.

 

“Well, that’s not so unusual,” snickered Wolfram.  Yuri looked down to see a damp patch on the front of his boxers, and they were tented up enthusiastically.  His cheeks were hot with embarrassment but when Wolfram’s hands slipped between his thighs, pushing them further apart, he sighed with pleasure.

 

Wolfram started fumbling around behind Yuri’s hips, but Yuri’s head was hanging down between his shoulders and he couldn’t see much except for their legs.  He watched with fascination as Wolfram’s immaculately pressed pants slid down to the floor, and he stepped quickly out of them.

 

“Like leggings,” grinned Yuri.  “Your underwear.  Like bloomers.”  He could see the starched white cotton cloth clinging to Wolfram’s thighs.  When Wolfram nudged up behind him, Yuri could feel the wet patch on the front of his fiance’s underwear, same as his.  When Wolfram ground his hips against Yuri’s ass, Yuri knew that the other man’s clothing was tented up in just the same way too.

 

Yuri shivered.  “What are we doing?” he whispered.

 

Wolfram laughed again, but softly.  He put his hand in his mouth for a moment.  Yuri couldn’t see what he was doing, but he could hear soft, sucking noises.  Then Wolfram bent to Yuri’s head again, kissing a wet trail from the nape of his neck down between his shoulder blades.  “We’re doing what you wanted,” Wolfram sighed.  “We’re getting this fitting done.”

 

Yuri felt the blond man’s hand slide up the inside of his thigh and probe gently between his cheeks.  He arched back, his whole body shuddering with the sensation of being touched there.  Wolfram’s fingers were warm and slippery with saliva and a finger nudged in through Yuri’s puckered entrance.  Yuri gasped with the alien feeling.

 

“You’ve done this before, right?” hissed Wolfram.

 

Yuri blushed again, but he couldn’t deny it.  Just once or twice; just for experimentation purposes; just because the young nobleman got him so stressed sometimes that he found he needed relief of a very personal kind…

 

“Well, this is just the final fitting,” sighed Wolfram.  “Call it a dress rehearsal.  For the wedding.”

 

“I… wasn’t planning on wearing this uniform to that event…” gasped Yuri.

 

“My thoughts exactly,” replied Wolfram.  “This look suits you much better.”  He slid another finger in and twisted the pair of them inside Yuri’s ass.  Yuri moaned, even more loudly.  He tried to focus on the reflection in front of him, but his eyes were blurred.  He looked down and watched Wolfram’s other hand tug his boxers down to his knees.  His cock reared out in front of him, bobbing up with pleasure at being released.  A thin drizzle of pre-cum hung down from it, glistening.

 

Yesss…” groaned Wolfram behind him.  “A much better look.”  Yuri saw the blond man’s eyes over his shoulder, hot and wide.  Wolfram kept up the fingering, but he started to pull his own briefs down his legs.  Yuri felt the heat from Wolfram’s groin up against his ass, and tightly muscled thighs against his own; then he felt the unmistakable nudge of Wolfram’s cock, sliding between his buttocks.

 

“That’s never going to fit!” he cried. 

 

“You wanted my sartorial advice,” Wolfram grunted.  He slid his fingers out, leaving a sudden empty chill inside Yuri’s channel.  “So I’m telling you it’ll fit perfectly.  It was made for you.  Made to measure.”  He bent his legs, slipped both hands round Yuri’s bent waist to hold him securely, and pushed the tip of his cock into Yuri’s entrance. “–if a little tight!” he groaned.

 

Yuri yelped, his body finding the invasion both thrilling and shocking.  He peeled a hand off the mirror and reached back instinctively to grip Wolfram’s hip.  He tugged the blond man into him even further, and his ass pressed back against Wolfram’s groin.  They started to rock in an awkward but desperate rhythm.  Yuri had to put both hands back on the mirror, in order to maintain his balance.  Wolfram’s thrusts lifted him up on to his toes then back down, again and again. 

 

“Let it loose, Yuri.  Let loose that demon side of you…”  Wolfram was panting.

 

Yuri’s head dropped down and his forehead brushed against the glass on every up thrust.  His breath misted it, leaving a round, opaque patch that slowly melted away each time.  Then as Wolfram pulled back, Yuri focussed on their reflection, seeing the bare skin shining with sweat, the wild look in both pairs of eyes, hearing the wet slap of flesh on flesh.  It made him growl in the back of his throat.

 

He braced himself on one hand again and pressed back forcefully against the penetration.  Wolfram was groaning behind him, panting in the same rhythm as his body ground against Yuri’s.  Yuri dropped his hand to his painfully swollen cock and began to stroke.  He saw the flicker of his hand’s movement in the mirror; he felt Wolfram’s thrusts suddenly slow and deepen.  The blond man made a strange gurgle and his fingers dug into Yuri’s hips as he climaxed.  Yuri tried to see the whole of Wolfram’s expression but he only got as far as the half-closed eyes and the strange grimace of his fiance’s mouth, and then he felt his own climax race up through his dick and burst forth, spitting his cum on to the mirror itself.

 

There was a sudden lull with nothing but their panting.  Then Wolfram shifted slightly and his softening cock slid out of Yuri.  He straightened up, but he kept his hands on Yuri’s waist, supporting him. 

 

Yuri sighed.  He flexed his sore ass and felt a dribble run down between his cheeks.  He pushed himself off the mirror and stood there, swaying slightly.  Wolfram rested his chin on Yuri’s shoulder and the two of them looked at themselves in the mirror.  Both almost naked, chests heaving, legs shaking, faces flushed with post-coital satisfaction.  They smiled wearily.  Wolfram ran a gentle hand down Yuri’s belly and nudged affectionately at his sticky, but now limp cock.

 

“A very regal bearing indeed,” he murmured.  “You don’t need a uniform for that.”

 

Yuri grimaced.  He moved his legs gingerly, feeling a whole bunch of muscles complain. “Whatever you say, it was hardly a perfect fit.”

 

Wolfram snorted.  “No need to worry about that!”

 

Yuri frowned.  “Huh?”

 

Behind him, Wolfram dropped a hand to his bare buttock and gripped it possessively.  “You’ll grow into it!” he laughed.

 

 

End