[Ooh, this was fun. Since these are supposed to be short, one-comment fics, I went with an abbreviated version. Sort of 5+1 sentences, I guess? I hope it works for you!]
infinity in the palm of your hand
The first time, it’s the back of a finger gently tapping against his brow and a familiar voice calling him back to consciousness.
The second time, it’s two knuckles bumping his jaw and a teasing comment on his baseball skills.
The third time, it’s three fingertips pressed to his chin and a gentle assurance that Wolfram would get over the broken engagement.
The fourth time, it’s four fingers and a palm spread shockingly insistent across his cheek and a demand for the Maou to settle for the danger is long past.
The fifth time, it’s four fingers and a palm cupping his cheek in the lightest of touches and a secret yearning whispered to a body feigning sleep.
The first time is born of the fifth. Yuuri can’t bring himself to make it hard, because the custom still seems so very strange and wrong, but it’s hard enough to make his intent clear, hard enough for Conrad’s eyes to widen in shock, hard enough for Conrad to touch his cheek like he can’t believe what has just happened. Then Yuuri presents the ring he’s bought because he needs to do this both ways, for him and for Conrad, after which he rather abruptly finds himself in Conrad’s arms with kisses being pressed to his brow, his cheeks, his jaw, his chin, his lips; and through it all, Conrad’s hands hold him close, burning two steady spots of warmth and strength into him.
no subject
infinity in the palm of your hand
The first time, it’s the back of a finger gently tapping against his brow and a familiar voice calling him back to consciousness.
The second time, it’s two knuckles bumping his jaw and a teasing comment on his baseball skills.
The third time, it’s three fingertips pressed to his chin and a gentle assurance that Wolfram would get over the broken engagement.
The fourth time, it’s four fingers and a palm spread shockingly insistent across his cheek and a demand for the Maou to settle for the danger is long past.
The fifth time, it’s four fingers and a palm cupping his cheek in the lightest of touches and a secret yearning whispered to a body feigning sleep.
The first time is born of the fifth. Yuuri can’t bring himself to make it hard, because the custom still seems so very strange and wrong, but it’s hard enough to make his intent clear, hard enough for Conrad’s eyes to widen in shock, hard enough for Conrad to touch his cheek like he can’t believe what has just happened. Then Yuuri presents the ring he’s bought because he needs to do this both ways, for him and for Conrad, after which he rather abruptly finds himself in Conrad’s arms with kisses being pressed to his brow, his cheeks, his jaw, his chin, his lips; and through it all, Conrad’s hands hold him close, burning two steady spots of warmth and strength into him.