A/N: WTF why does this thing exist? Hell if I know. I just wanted to do more with Josak because he's freakin' awesome. I've been meaning to write tons more Josak, but just... never got around to it, I guess. Well, okay, so it was supposed to be all about Josak, but I'm starting to think that I don't know how to write fics with Conrad in them and not poke at him all the time. (Because let's face it - the man is hilarious.) Anyway, don't expect much on the pairings front. It's just lots and lots of inappropriate poking.

C&C always appreciated. Happy reading~! (Mwahahaha!)

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a sweet young boy and his frail mother. In her youth, the mother had been an herbalist's apprentice, and it had been as she was gathering medicinal plants on the mountainside one day that she met her destiny.

Destiny, however, was neither a charming prince nor knight in shining armor. Destiny was a wounded deserter; an enemy soldier.

She said to herself as she treated his wounds that they would have nothing to do with each other once he was well enough to leave. He was a man of the Demon Tribe, and they ate souls and polished their swords with human blood. Or so she had heard.

But he had the most endearing crooked smile, and they fell in love nonetheless. She graduated from apprentice to journeyman and set up a hut for herself on the side of the mountain where they lived together, her handsome Demon soldier hiding in the cellar when patients came to call. Seasons turned and returned; it was a blissful time. They had a beautiful child with his mother's blue eyes and his father's charming smile, and all was well until word of their unholy union reached the nearby village.

They came up the dirt path with torches, slings, and arrows. Knowing what had come to pass, the ex-soldier took up arms and charged down to distract the mob, only lingering long enough to claim one last kiss from the healer who mended his body... and the woman who mended his heart.

And so the boy's mother risked life and limb to help her son escape a life of hardship and persecution, all the while weeping for her love's brave sacrifice. Before the guards could come knocking down her door, she stole away in the middle of the night, carrying with her only the clothes on her back and her small son.

As with any mother, she wished for her child only the very best life, and she apologized to him every step of the way as they slowly marched across the mountainous border. No sane human would willing step foot in the land of Demons, but it didn't matter if she was unwelcome. She dreamed of a land that would welcome her son.

It was a beautiful dream, and it persisted through all the hardships presented to her in the months ahead. She held onto hope even as she accepted back-breaking work for nothing but room and board and table scraps.

When she passed, her only request was for her master to care for her son - if not as his own child, then at least as a companion for his own children. And here is where our story begins...

Josak didn't exactly have a good childhood. It was pretty damn shitty, to be honest. When his mother passed away, he was left in the tender care of her employer, who, while seemingly friendly on the outside, was actually quite fond of child labor and also very good at getting around child labor laws.

There were also the spoiled daughters, of course, and oh were they spoiled. Once they discovered Josak's flair for fashion designing, it was "sew this" and "sew that" until he was up to his neck in lace ruffles and practically swimming in sexy sequined halter tops, none of which they would let him wear himself. Every day it was, "Oh. My. Gawd. Josak, where are my new petticoats? Go get them now!"

And so the lovely manservant, pure of heart, waited and waited because one day his prince would come. The most he could do was sneak out to see the prince; maybe dance with him a little before fleeing into the night. That was what the stories said, anyway... Mostly, it was the waiting and being pure bits that led to happily ever after.

Ah, fuck the stories! His prince wasn't going to come to him, not all the way out to the shitty boondocks. It was up to Josak to reel in his own happy ending, and if the only way to get there was by beating destiny into submission, then he would do so. What else were his muscles for, after all?

One day, when the old man lashed his bull whip one too many times, Josak caught it around his arm and just... flexed until his bulging of his biceps snapped the thing clean apart. And then it was "Oh, oh Shinou save me! Get out of here, monster!" and Josak was freed.

"Hey, can I have some cash? I was thinking of heading to the capital since I'm about the right age to enter the military academy... And I was also thinking that it might be about time you paid me for the, oh, half a century of indentured servitude."

"Take it, take it! Just don't rape my daughters!"

"Whoa, old man... I thought you knew by now that I don't swing that way."

"PLEASE DON'T RAPE ME!" There was silence after the old man's plea, though it was intermittently broken by a few muffled sobbing hics.

Josak slowly reached for the bag of coin and scooted back so as not to frighten the man any longer. Before he was gone, however, a spark of mischief caught hold, and it was with a teasing wink that Josak blew his rotten ex-slave-driver a big, flirty smooch. Mwah~!

He met a prince far sooner than he would have thought.

Two days after his acceptance into the military academy, Josak wandered out to the courtyard for some fresh air, only to see that a group of students had formed a ring around two combatants. It was Josak's favorite teacher, Lord Gunter von Kleist, versus... some other dude. There wasn't much about that guy that stood out besides his very pissy expression, though Josak had to admit that he was rather handsome. He had a bad-boy air to him, which was attractive if one was into that.

Josak lightly elbowed the girl next to him. "Hey, who's that guy?"

"You don't know?" she hissed. "That's only Conrart Weller, the strongest student in the entire school and second-"

"Whoo! Kick his ass, Instructor GunGun-sama!"

Instructor GunGun-sama proceeded to do just that.

Later on, after Josak had collected his winnings, he vaguely wondered what the girl had been about to say. Second... what? Second place in the Shin Makoku All-Star Youth Spelling Bee? The thought of someone with that sort of dour expression stepping out in front of a crowd and saying, "Pugnacious. P-U-G-N-A-C-I-O-U-S. Pugnacious," was almost enough to make Josak titter like the little girl he was inside.

The next day, he spotted what's-his-name leaning against the outer wall of the boys' dorm. His arms were crossed, and he glared at Josak like a gang leader looking for trouble. He even had a posse composed entirely of sullen looking students who had perfected the art of teenage ennui. They narrowed their eyes challengingly at the newcomer.

Josak wasn't weak by any means. Most people tended not to want to mess with him, if only because he looked like he could snap their necks bare-handed. Granted, he'd never tried, but it probably wasn't too far from the truth. So it was with this in mind that he thought, "Ah, these fucking cowards are gonna gang up on me."

What he said, however, was, "Nice weather today, huh?"

Their broody head honcho slowly pushed off from the wall. At his approach, Josak stiffened and prepared for possible combat.

"You're a new student. I just noticed you yesterday."

No shit, Sherlock.

"You're one of us."

...Bwuh? Yes, I see you've finally noticed that we're wearing the same uniform. What's-his-name Weller continued on, completely unfazed by Josak's impressive jawdrop.

"If you're set on keeping it a secret, just don't let them catch you alone once they start having suspicions about you."

"Er... What about me?"

"About... how you were born this way."

Josak's lucky dress was tucked safely away at the bottom of his bag of meager possessions. He doubted his roommate would want to rummage around in there, but if it came to that, he was sure that he could pass it off as a joke, like something from a costume party. Or a sob story, like the only memento he had left of his equally large twin sister.

He was about to say that he had everything under control, but there was this one niggling thought...

"So, wait a minute, um, C-"

"Conrad."

"Right. So, Conrad... You too?"

"Yes."

"We've got that in common."

Conrad nodded his assent, at which Josak pictured him in an elegant silk taffeta ensemble with lace trim and eye-catching statement jewelry. None of this wretched teal military uniform stuff! Deep blue was definitely his color. He would look gorgeous in it, especially with a demure smile.

Josak was about to ask if he could take measurements just in case of future opportunity, but was interrupted before he could.

The boy at Weller's left, who had been slouched in a position that looked very bad for his back, straightened up and tossed his hair from his face. It promptly flopped back, covering one eye and casting deep shadows onto his impassive features. "He means," the boy spoke lowly, "our human blood."

"Oh. Oh, you were talking about that." Whoops. Josak chided himself for not having seen this coming. After all, there were too many brown-haired, brown-eyed students here for Weller's clique to be anything other than the punk-ass human outcasts. Ha! To think for a moment that they could all have been budding fashionistas like himself...

"Yeah, man. No one will mess with you if you tell them you're with us, 'cuz we've got Conrad. None of those pureblood assholes can even land a hit on him. Well, except Instructor GunGun-sama."

Conrad threw his minion a look. His minion hunched back in on himself, melting into the shadows of the wall from whence he had risen.

Then he rose again, like a vampire that didn't know it was supposed to stay down after getting hosed down with holy water, three stakes pierced straight through the heart, and decapitated with a garlic-rubbed katana made of pure silver in broad daylight.

"Conrad's also, like, a prince and stuff. For serious. It's okay to mooch off of him - he's loaded."

Prince Conrad's eyes glinted in a very pissed off manner. He turned to his disobedient minion and said, "Geoffrey, you're taking Ryan's place as my sparring partner for today."

Ryan gasped. He looked up. His plain brown eyes lit up with plain brown joy at the prospect of making it through the day without getting his ass thoroughly kicked. Josak noted that Ryan was remarkably good at being brown, as was everyone else in the immediate vicinity. He briefly wondered if his own bright and fruity locks would darken if he spent time with them. Was the brown contagious?

But then Conrad smiled as well, and it was a wretched smile. It was as wretched as an angry lion with blood smeared all over its toothy maw. With a practiced flip, Geoffrey hid behind his hair just a little bit more.

Josak's eyebrows rose as he watched the scene with amusement. "So," he said. "I can hang with you guys? And put my drinks on the royal tab? Sweetness."

Their friendship blossomed, delicately sweet as the first blush of spring upon the land. And soon, they were in love...

Or not.

Josak had had high hopes for Conrad after finding out about the prince thing, but he soon found out that Conrad wasn't exactly boyfriend material. For one, he was pining over an unrequited love. And two, his sense of humor was wretched. This was, as far as Josak could tell, the main reason why he was always so angry - because if he joked, it gave people ulcers.

Their other friends were either straight, or not quite to Josak's tastes. Like Geoffrey, whose hair-flipping and blood-sucker aesthetics were a major turn-off that not even his nice bubble butt could make up for. There was also Ryan, who was cute until you found out that he had a thing for big bear daddies. Literally. As in sand bears. The furry kind with the claws and teeth and underground burrows.

The rest of the student body was out of the question once they noticed he had started hanging with the halfies. The fabulous Josak was having no luck with love. He pouted at Conrad one day and said, "You suck at being my Prince Charming, you know that?"

Conrad just shrugged and said, "I never applied for that position," and continued sharpening his sword.

Presently, Conrad was leaning against a tree trunk outside their dorm, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Some people thought this was scary, like babies and stuff. Conrad was always making babies cry at a glance, but Josak didn't think this look was scary at all. It sort of lost its impact once one got used to it. It was too bad that the prince didn't have the kind of face that could really make scowling work, Josak thought, so rather then being menacing, he now appeared to Josak to be more like a pouty kid who was giving his parents the silent treatment because they wouldn't let him get a lip piercing.

"Yo, Conrad, 'sup? You being emo again?"

He received a scoff-and-eyebrow-raise combo in response. Ah, body language... One of Josak's greatest assets (besides his heavenly biceps) was his observational ability, especially being able to interpret what wasn't being said.

Case in point, Conrad had actually meant, "Why the fuck do you care? Get off my case, man. But just so you know, I totally have the right to be emo, okay? I'm, like, supposed to be the resident bad boy here. You know, the one that the girls can't resist? And yet Julia actually dumped me for that musclebound bastard. I mean, what the fuck? I loved her! And he has a really nasty double chin! My life sucks. Everyone hates me and my dad is dead. And then my little brother spit in my drink, and my mom just had to go embarrass me in front of the whole town by making me go shopping with her and hanging off my arm the whole time. Pretending I was her boy-toy! She even giggled and half-molested me when someone asked if we were going out! Jeez, mom, is it so hard to tuck your boobs back in? I hate my family. I hate my life. I hate the unresolved sexual tension I have with Instructor GunGun-sama, and how he keeps saying that my sword is too inexperienced to win against him. God, I need to get drunk."

Josak briefly considered leaving Conrad's broody emo ass behind, but then he thought about it some more and decided that it wasn't such a good idea to lose a friend over something like this, especially since friendly faces were in short supply for those with human blood, and especially since he owed a lot to Conrad. And besides, one could never have too much ale.

"Hey. Wanna go grab a pint?" Josak asked.

Conrad's other eyebrow rose up in surprise even as he gingerly nodded.

Why yes, Josak thought, his mind reading was indeed impressive. His smugness about the situation lasted throughout their walk to the bar, and then grew into tipsy smugness.

Conrad was much easier to talk to after the liberal application of alcohol. It was a fine balance, though, between a loosened tongue and death threats. This line lay somewhere around the sixth pint, after which he had been known to promise a swift end to anyone who made blind jokes about his ex-girlfriend. He would also attempt to go through with this, though more often than not it involved a lot of stumbling and furniture being cleaved in half.

Usually this "someone" who had to dodge Conrad's drunken martial arts was Josak, and it was a good thing that Conrad usually forgot about his escapades the next day, or Josak would end up as the prince's designated sparring partner for all time. "Sparring partner" meant, of course, "pincushion". Because Conrad had a lot of unresolved anger/sexuality/mommy issues, which he channeled into an unhealthy love of smoldering at people and stabbing things with his sword.

"You really need to get over her." Josak's eyes followed the bobbing of his friend's Adam's apple as he chugged down the fifth pint.

"Mmph," Conrad eloquently replied.

"Seriously. She's like, what, fifty years older than you?"

"...Sixty-five, but in Mazoku years."

"So she's about thirteen years older than you in human years."

"..."

"Give it up, man. No one wants to feel like they're dating their own son. Um, except your mother."

"Don't talk about my mother!" Conrad's fist slammed down on the cheap alehouse table.

"Okay, okay, nothing about your mother. Why don't we talk about the queen instead?"

Conrad paused for a moment, scrunching his brows as if deep in thought. "...Yes, that's fine." He groped around for another drink, but Josak expertly switched the last glass with water and motioned to the serving wench not to bring them any more. With an unbalanced shrug, Conrad gulped down the water instead.

"Right, so... I hear she's holding a ball soon."

"I hate balls."

"Tch. That's such a waste, man! You have access to all these balls, but you say you don't like them? Meanwhile, here I am, not gettin' any lovin' at all..."

"Balls are..." Conrad gestured unsteadily, trying and failing to find the words in his drunken state. "Balls are... fluffy."

"You mean furry? Ryan would like that, wouldn't he. You should invite him."

"Huh?"

Josak snickered at Conrad's confusion, which only confused him even more. He stared into his glass of water and mouthed "Furry balls?" to himself.

"Ahem. What I meant was, can you sneak me in? I'll go all out and do the total diva thing. It'll be a blast, I swear."

"If you were there, I... perhaps... I could come to like balls..."

Aww~ Josak thought it was adowwable that the academy's resident badass was so slow on the uptake when he was sloshed. And he was so sweet, too, proclaiming his feelings of epic bromance for all to hear. Josak was tempted to give Conrad's "sword" some more "experience" in preparation for the next "duel" he had with their beautiful instructor... Why, if it wasn't one of those things that friends just don't do to each other, Josak would have taken him upstairs right now and done the nasty.

"Well, then. I should crash that party."

A slow smile spread over Conrad's face. "You should crash that party."

"Hell to the yeah."

They cemented their plan with the sign of the unbreakable vow: the bro-fist.