I haven't read the KKM manga or novels, unfortunately, so most of what I write is based on the anime. I generally try to exclude filler, as I can't stand it in Naruto and I can't stand it in KKM. This isn't my best piece, but I had to stop poking it with my pencil. I was afraid it would poke back.

No warnings. YuuRam fluff. I actually prefer Wolfram/Yuuri, but it didn't happen that way here.

Goodnights
by vernajast

yuuri x wolfram

"Wolfram?" Yuuri whispered it, half-intending to awaken his bedmate...and half-afraid that he would.

With a soft sigh, he pushed up on an elbow and lit the candle beside the bed as quietly as possible. He rolled back to face Wolfram, bowing his dark head in consideration. He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth. He furrowed his brows when he didn't like the answer his mind continued to present him (Wolfram had recently insisted this expression was reminiscent of Anuie on a good day). Idle fingertips teased a blond curl encroaching over onto his pillowcase.

Yuuri knew he was stalling, but he just couldn't help feeling nervous.

He released his lip and would have taken to absently chewing the inside of his cheek instead if Wolfram hadn't startled him by abruptly shifting in his sleep, shivering, and rolling just a little closer to Yuuri, the nearest source of warmth. The nightgown had slipped down over one pale shoulder, blond hair spread out tousled and loose across the pillow Wolfram had somehow managed not to knock off of the bed for once.

Yuuri was sure that he would move again soon, so the young king leaned down as quickly as possible and brushed a kiss across his fiance's lips before flopping back onto the bed beside him. There.

He could hear Wolfram's even breathing, the occasional soft snort, and the radiation, comfortable warmth of a body against the back of his own arm (which he immediately pulled closer to himself the moment that thought crossed his mind). His heart was thudding against his ribcage, and Yuuri fisted the sheet beneath him in sweaty palms, counting slowly to ten and trying to get everything under control.

That was the only reason for this bizarre nightly ritual, wasn't it?

Every night for the past month he had awoken, trembling and panting beside the blond bishounen, unable to calm himself enough to go back to sleep. He wasn't even sure what was waking him exactly, except...he knew it was something he feared...

He had only discovered the "cure" by accident on one of those nights when he was staring up into the darkness and waiting to either fall back asleep or watch the sun rise (it was always a coin toss as to which would happen first).

The answer to his problem had been literally dumped into his lap three weeks ago, when all was quiet in Blood Pledge Castle, and Yuuri was sure that he was the only person still awake. In the stillness, he found himself recounting the silly, happy moments of his day-picking flowers with Greta, a game of catch with Conrad-in an attempt to fall back to sleep.

Just when he was losing hope, Wolfram suddenly whimpered a little pathetically between breaths and muttered Yuuri's name. The darkness of the room hid his face and Yuuri couldn't be sure if Wolfram was actually asleep or not, so he whispered Wolfram's name...and was rewarded for his concern with an arm and leg draped unceremoniously across his torso.

After several failed attempts to push Wolfram away, Yuuri was forced to give up, and he grumbled up at the frilly canopy for several minutes, bemoaning his luck at having a grabby male fiance (That doesn't mean a grabby female one would be okay, either!), and then...

He woke up.

He was shocked to find he had slept for the rest of the night and into the morning, and for the first time in a week it didn't feel as if he was peeling himself up out of the bed or manually forcing his muscles to move. He felt good. It was only later after studying the facts that he simultaneously realized and dismissed the fact that his contact with Wolfram was the only change.

The next night, Wolfram seemed to be having a nightmare, and on instinct Yuuri reached over and pushed blond hair from his friend's eyes, whispering calming sounds of reassurance. Pulling his hand back with a faint smile curving his lips, Yuuri whispered, "Good night," and drifted back to sleep without another thought.

When Yuuri awoke the third night, he was sure he had been having a dream. It seemed like nothing in hindsight, but it had disturbed him enough to shake him from sleep. He lay there in the darkness waiting for morning, still beside a soundly sleeping Wolfram, and yet decidedly alone.

The fourth night, Yuuri remembered some of the dream, but it only confused him.

It's dark, too dark to see my hand in front of my face. And even if I can't see them, I know there are four walls and a locked door hidden somewhere out there. Someone is crying. I've heard that sound on other nights, in other dreams, but until now I've never known who was so upset. It's...me.

I'm kneeling in the middle of the room, hugging myself like I used to do when I thought Shori was mad at me. Even though the room is dark, I can still see myself sitting there, and it's really strange that I don't think to question it, I guess. The whole dream is weird like that. I'm upset, reaching out toward the door and crying. And scared.

An involuntary shudder at the fearful memory and Yuuri was burrowing down into the blankets. He didn't even realize when he rested his forehead against Wolfram's arm and fell into a fitful sleep, and by morning, the blond was already out of bed.

On the fifth night, the dream was...worse.

There are voices-"Don't know what 'is problem is; you're nigh on pretty, ya are."-I'm sure I can hear them. And someone on the other side of the door is screaming. I can't call forth the Maou's power. I can't break the new bindings on my wrists. I'm helpless. I can't save you. I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do.

He awoke with tears in his eyes, breaths coming in raspy deep gasps, and he didn't hesitate to roll toward Wolfram and grasp a pink-clad arm tightly against his chest.

They were critical moments, he knew that, though he still wasn't sure exactly how or why. What he had done each night-reaching out to Wolfram, growing bolder and bolder until some part of him looked forward to it, until he dared to steal a kiss-what he was doing went against everything Yuuri had been taught was normal and decent.

Nevermind the fact he was the king of a demon race in an alternate world, using majutsu to bring peace and carrying around the soul of a dead woman...

Nevermind the fact that his mother and father, even his brother, seemed to have no problem at all that Wolfram was male...

NeverMIND the fact that Shinou INSISTED he should listen to Murata when the former Great Sage told him it wasn't without historical precedence... (Yuuri didn't like to think about them like that!)

He frowned and started to get up, ready to roll out of bed and take a walk on the balcony to clear his head, when he felt a hand beneath the comforter grasp his own, fingers lacing together and holding tightly.

Wolfram was staring up at him, a peculiar expression on his sleepy face.

"You even kiss like a wimp."

[ .end ]