When Wolfram settled on the Maoh's bed for the evening, he was not expecting Yuuri to turn to him with shaky determination and downcast eyes.

"Wolf, I…I like you." Wolfram's heart fluttered, and his first instinct was to pull his fiancé to him, but Yuuri's body curved away from him and his hand shot out as if to keep him at bay. "But!" he exclaimed in a high pitch, "it isn't the same way you love me."

His body deflated as if his confession were nothing but hot air. Seeing the sag of his shoulders and conflicted face, Wolfram forced his own body to relax. Normally such a comment would have spurred his anger, yet he understood that this was in fact a confession, an omission. This was not Yuuri's usual claim of liking him as only a friend or of not being "gay." This was something different, something large and real for Yuuri. Wolfram tugged him to his chest, cradling his head against him like a mother would a child. Yuuri's breathing evened out, and his arms came up to press against the middle of his back. There was a noticeable separation between them, yet this was the closest they had ever been. Yuuri was vulnerable and open in his arms.

Neither spoke for a long time. Though Wolfram wished to question him further on the matter, he waited patiently for what Yuuri would give to him freely. They had made progress, and that was what he would grasp at, not his own desires which had trapped them in a game of tug of war so many times before. Yuuri's body trembled slightly, but he did not move away, instead holding onto his nightgown resolutely.

"It's," he began in a quiet voice, before trailing off. Once he started again, his voice was fast, nearly tripping over itself as the words tumbled forth. "You're more than a friend. You have been for a long time—I just didn't want to see it. I didn't want to think about what it meant because then I had to think about myself and what I wanted. I still don't understand what you are to me, but I don't love you—" Wolfram winced internally, letting him continue without interruption—"at least not yet. But this is nice, and sometimes I do want to hold you. I want to feel your arms around me and know your warmth. Friends don't do that, do they? That's how I know it's different. I want you here, Wolf. I want you to be by my side forever. Yet, it's not the same as your love. I don't want to kiss you, I don't want to marry you. Just thinking about it still scares me. I don't even know myself or what I want anymore. All I know is that I want things I shouldn't as just a friend yet don't want things I should if I did love you that way."

Finished, he heaved a deep intact of air, and Wolfram swore he could feel it settling in his chest. The mazoku tightened his arms around his fiancé, rocking him ever-so gently. "It's okay, Yuuri. You don't need to push yourself. Thank you for telling me."

The double-black rose, meeting his eyes. "You aren't mad at me?"

"How could I be when you are speaking with honesty? You are confused—I get it, and it's okay. You aren't pushing me away for once, and that alone makes me happy. You don't have to rush into anything with me if you don't want to. Just—" he paused briefly, donning his tone of arrogance—"don't rush into anything with anyone else, cheater! Until you kick me out screaming, you are mine."

A small smile graced Yuuri's lips. "I'm not a cheater," he replied in his defensive tone.

They sat there smiling, and for once the air between them was light and perfectly easy to breathe in. This wasn't everything Wolfram wanted. He wasn't Yuuri's husband, or even his lover. But there was something new between them—something closer—something stronger—and for now, it would be enough.