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"I'm still surprised you're okay with this," Murata says, his left hand trailing to Wolfram's shoulder while his right plays with strands of blond hair. Wolfram averts his eyes but doesn't move.
"I never said I was."
The corners of Murata's mouth turn up in what Wolfram's come to recognize as an insincere smile. "I get it," he says. "Plausible deniability. If anyone asks, I seduced you and stole you away from Shibuya, right?"
Wolfram doesn't appreciate the joke. He shoots Murata a sharp look and says: "And if Yuuri asks?"
The question catches Murata off guard - or it seems to, anyway, because for a brief moment, his mask slips as his eyes widen a fraction. Wolfram stays still, staring him down, daring him to be honest. The moment stretches on to the point of almost becoming uncomfortable. Finally, Murata sighs.
"Okay, maybe he’s unlikely to buy it, but that doesn't mean we can't try, right?"
"I'm surprised you're okay with the idea of your best friend thinking you tried to steal his fiancé on purpose," Wolfram tells him. Murata's smile loses some of its polish as he lets a bit of honesty seep through to the surface.
"I'm not," he says gently. "I just want to make sure you can still repair your relationship with him somewhere down the line."
A beat of silence passes. Then Wolfram surprises himself by bursting into laughter.
"You're worried about my relationship with Yuuri, even when you just told me you're dying to kiss me?"
"Is that so strange?"
"Well, yes."
Murata doesn't defend himself or launch into an explanation. He just moves his left hand up to cup Wolfram's cheek with a soft fondness that startles Wolfram into finally meeting his eyes. Inch by inch, Murata moves closer until their noses bump. Then he rests their foreheads together. Wolfram's tongue feels like it's glued to the roof of his mouth as he struggles to come up with something to say; Murata beats him to the punch.
"This feels right," he murmurs in the space between them. Wolfram's fingers itch to grab his collar. "But at the same time, I know it can't last forever. So why not set up a plan for what happens when Shibuya inevitably finds out? And why not make sure at least one of us gets a chance to stay on halfway-decent terms with him in the aftermath?"
Wolfram knows he can't argue with that logic, not when Murata’s always going to insist on being the one to take the fall. At the same time, it’s perfectly clear to him that the whole idea doesn’t sit right with him. The tangle of feelings weighing on Wolfram’s chest is fighting his every attempt to put it into words, so he gives up, resting his arms on Murata's shoulders in a loose embrace instead. Then he frowns. Murata's glasses are in the way, and if they're going to do this, they're damn well going to do it right. His left hand comes up and gives a little tug on the side of the offending object.
"Get rid of these," he says. Murata chuckles as he leans back just enough to do as Wolfram asks.
Now there's nothing to stop them from crossing the line between inappropriate flirting and outright cheating. Neither one moves a muscle.
"It's a shame," Murata finally says. "I can't see your pretty face without my glasses, but I can't get this close to you while wearing them."
"You're a shameless flirt," Wolfram accuses with no bite.
"And if I am?" Murata returns.
"Someone should tell you to mind your manners."
"Is that someone going to be you?"
"Maybe."
Murata inches closer. "So you're not alright with being complimented? That's unfortunate. It's really, really easy to compliment you. Not to mention fun."
Wolfram's vision is starting to blur with how close they are to one another, and still he doesn't back down. He tilts his head a little in a challenge.
"Oh, yeah?" His lips twitch up. "Then prove it. Compliment me without mentioning my looks at all."
"You're passionate, and it's infectious," Murata says immediately. "I started reading the novels you talk about because I wanted to know where that passion comes from."
"That's a comment, not a compliment," Wolfram says, but the blush creeping onto his face tells a different story. Murata hums, then tries again.
"I admire how stubborn you are."
This time, Wolfram rolls his eyes. "That's a taunt, and a lie besides. Stubbornness isn't a positive quality - surely you know that after thousands of years of being around people."
"Actually, that depends on the person who’s being stubborn. Sure, someone who wants to conquer the whole world and won't budge from that position isn't great, but that's not what I mean, and it's not who you are." Murata brushes Wolfram's hair behind his ear. "You stubbornly believe in people, even when they disappoint you. That's absolutely a good thing. It's also something you and Shibuya have in common."
Wolfram says nothing. The strange constricting feeling in his chest is getting stronger, sending his heart beating faster. It's guilt; it's desire; it's some strange, roiling mixture of the two. Unconsciously, he leans back a little, which only gives him a better view of the expression on Murata's face. For once, it's not the coy smile that hides what he's thinking - instead, Wolfram’s fiancé’s best friend is looking at him with open affection.
"Did I pass your test? I can-" Murata starts to say. Wolfram cuts him off with a kiss.
After an initial second of surprise, Murata kisses him back, pulling Wolfram against him as he does so. It's a gentle, curious kiss, and it's completely different from anything Wolfram's shared with Yuuri. Unlike him, Murata kisses without hesitation, like there's not even the slightest doubt in the back of his mind about what he's doing, like the wave of guilty feelings that's bound to crash over both of them any moment now will hang in suspension forever. One thing is completely clear: Murata wants him, and he's not afraid to show it.
And what can Wolfram do in the face of such undisguised longing but return it?
Even though both of them are reluctant to break apart, they eventually have no choice as they run out of air. Wolfram breathes harshly. His pulse races in his ears, screaming for more of the rushing feeling that kissing Murata brings, and he struggles to get his thoughts in order.
"Wow," Murata says, a scandalously flirtatious grin twisting his lips. Wolfram shoves at his chest half-heartedly.
"Shut up."
"Sorry, sorry. I'm just a little in awe."
"Do you ever stop flirting?"
"Do you want me to?"
Wolfram doesn't have an answer, so he settles for rolling his eyes, much to Murata's delight. The air between them feels like it's alive with something unnameable. After a beat, Murata cups Wolfram's chin, and then they're kissing again. And again. And again.
Murata’s hand is tangled in Wolfram’s hair, holding him in place and tugging lightly. The rest of the room fades out alarmingly quickly; Wolfram’s mind is completely blank, the space where his thoughts should be taken up completely by the burning need to make this moment last for as long as possible. Every place where their bodies touch is ice-fire, burning past their skin straight through to the bones beneath.
When Murata tries to break the kiss to say something, Wolfram pulls him back in, and Murata eagerly lets him.
It's only when a bird outside lets out a particularly loud cry, startling them both, that they snap out of whatever trance had locked their thoughts away. Wolfram realizes belatedly that at some point, they'd ended up on his bed. One of the buttons on Murata’s shirt is undone. Something about the sight of it kicks Wolfram's mind back into gear; the wave of guilt from before comes down with thundering force.
Wolfram buries his face in his hands.
Clearly, Murata feels it too, because he clambers off the bed and sits on the floor, facing away from Wolfram. He fumbles for his glasses. Silence settles between them, heavy and awkward, and neither of them make any attempt to break it.
Once his breathing has evened out and the redness has eased from his face, Wolfram pulls himself into a sitting position. He doesn't dare to glance down at Murata. In his mind's eye, he sees the door swing open and pictures Yuuri standing there. His stomach clenches in an imitation of seasickness at the thought.
"I should go," Murata says evenly, standing and making to head for the door. Wolfram darts out a hand and catches his wrist before his rational side can stop him.
"Stay," he says, though he's not sure what compels him to. "Please."
There's a long second's pause while Murata hesitates. Then he steps back, sits on the edge of Wolfram's bed, and laces their fingers together.
"Okay."
This time, the silence is more comfortable. It doesn't stretch for as long either, because a moment later, Wolfram's clearing his throat.
"So, now what?" he asks. Murata raises an eyebrow.
"That's up to you. If you want to take this further-"
"I can't betray Yuuri like that," Wolfram cuts in. Murata nods.
"Right. In that case, I'll back off-"
"But I don't want you to." Wolfram laughs humorlessly. "I know it's selfish, but... You can't just leave. Not after kissing me like that."
Murata shifts, moving to sit closer to Wolfram, and Wolfram mimics the gesture. Their shoulders press together as they both stare out into the room.
"So I can't leave," says Murata, "but if I stay, I can't have you. Is that right?"
"More or less," Wolfram says.
"I don't think I can sit here forever next to someone as stunning as you and just twiddle my thumbs, you know."
Wolfram clicks his tongue. "Again with the flirting? You're terrible at picking the right moment-"
"But I'm good at kissing," Murata interrupts with a wink, and Wolfram splutters out a few choked syllables.
That's the thing - it's true, but it's not the whole story. Yes, Murata had kissed him well (with all the skill of someone who’s done this for thousands of years), but that hadn't been what had shattered Wolfram's self-control so soundly, if temporarily. On the rare occasions that they'd kissed in the past, Yuuri hadn't been bad or anything. But this...
"Yeah," Wolfram says after a pause, hoping he can convey the depth of his thoughts behind the simple words. "Yeah, you're good at kissing."
"Better than-?"
"Yes."
Murata lets out a low whistle. "No contest, huh?"
"Look," says Wolfram, "you're every bit the flirt I used to think Yuuri was. The difference is that you do it on purpose."
"And that makes me a better kisser?"
"Shut up, I was getting to that part."
Murata grins, and Wolfram can't quite fight a smile of his own. "I guess I always thought you didn't mean it," he continues. "But after tonight, well... it's... You do like me."
"Yes, Wolfram, I do like you. Is that a bad thing?"
Finally, Wolfram turns his head, only to find that Murata's already looking at him. From what Wolfram can tell, he's asking in earnest. Wolfram takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
"No. It's not a bad thing at all. It's just that I've been trying to convince myself that Yuuri likes me for so long, it's weird to think that I don't have to do anything for you to feel that way." The blush is creeping back onto his face; Murata, for once, recognizes that this is hard for Wolfram to say, and doesn't tease him. Instead, he runs the back of his hand along Wolfram's cheek.
“For what it’s worth, he does like you,” Murata tells Wolfram. “He’s just-”
“- terrible at showing it?”
“Yep. It’s almost cute.”
Wolfram makes a face. “Are you seriously flirting with Yuuri at me? Never mind, don’t answer that.”
They both laugh, and Wolfram’s struck - not for the first time - by how easy it is to talk to Murata. If it weren’t for the ache in his chest that gets worse the longer they go without physical contact, Wolfram feels like he could while away the days just talking to Murata.
As if reading his mind, Murata takes Wolfram’s face in his hands and rubs his thumbs along Wolfram’s cheekbones. Wolfram’s stomach clenches with anticipation.
"I know you just said my timing is bad," Murata says, "and I know that talking about your fiancé isn't exactly the best way to set the mood, but do you think I could kiss you again?"
" Yes ," Wolfram sighs. Murata doesn't waste a moment, pulling him in and kissing him slowly. Tomorrow, they can regret this; tomorrow, Wolfram can look in the mirror and wonder when he became someone that would go behind Yuuri's back like this. Right now though... Right now he doesn't have to think about that. This moment, here with Murata, is all he has to think about, and the oncoming storm will just have to wait.