No warnings. Sweetness. YuuRam, implied past Shinou/Daikenja. Four years after Yuuri took the throne. It's not meant to be a real story, but a study of a moment and each character's thoughts and feelings in that moment. Or something deep like that. Please enjoy.
An Afternoon Spent Walking with the Royal Couple:
A Kyou Kara Maou Character Study
by vernajast
yuuri x wolfram
+ murata (past shinou x great sage)
Shibuya Yuuri — not the maou, in all his forms, just Yuuri — smiled impishly at Murata before bounding across the field to tackle his young husband — young by Mazoku standards — and he knocked the blond down into the tall grass and wild flowers — pink, orange, violet petals crumpled and tangled in Wolfram's hair — both of them yelping and Wolfram yelling his name in frustration.
Shibuya Wolfram von Bielefeld — on anyone else, a name like that would seem pretentious — gazed up into the face of the black-on-black husband he had pledged his life to and smiled as well — I'll live for you, Yuuri, I'll die for you. — wondering how they had gone three years without touching like this — now they couldn't go three minutes — and secretly wishing he couldn't feel that other set of black eyes on them even now.
Murata Ken — not the Great Sage, not today when they were outside even Shinou's realm of influence — smiled in return, though delayed so it wouldn't be seen, and slid his hands into his pockets — because there was nothing wrong, dammit — watching Yuuri's long black hair mingle with Wolfram's spun gold locks — Shinou's hair twisted around his strategist's fingers and...no — resisting the urge to blink and smear tears on his glasses with wet lashes.