TAKE MY BREATH AWAY

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou.

Pairing: Shori/Wolfram (Sholf!)

Parts: 2

Warning: Unapologetic fluff. Ridiculous sap. Some bout of OOC-ness. Some swearing. Implicit smut.

Notes: This is the sequel, of sorts, to my previous Shori/Wolfram fic "He Should Have Known". It also contains flashbacks to the development of Shori and Wolfram's relationship in "He Should Have Known". It's a good idea to read that one first before you jump into this one for better understanding of the story. The story is divided into 2 parts. The second part is already done but needs proofreading and will be posted next week.

Part 1

They were sweaty, sticky and sleeping on sullied sheets. It would have been uncomfortable and yet they didn't mind for they were spent, sated, and spooned against each other in a single bed that was meant for, well, only one person. Needless to say, they were pressed, skin against skin, as closely as humanly possible. It was impossible to tell from any angle where one began and the other ended. It was as if they had been stitched together to make one single entity.

Which was not far from the truth, seeing as they were actually rather glued to one another. The truth was one of them had not yet pulled out of the other; his now softened yet still impressively enormous masculine organ was still wedged firmly inside the other – still so full, so hot, so very welcome – and drenched in a wet mixture of lubricant and his own juice… one he had emitted earlier in the peak of his passion as he reached mutual completion with his beautiful blonde lover beneath him, open and willing.

Actually, his lover was more than just open and willing. He was a very sensual man. The way he responded to every single one of his touches… it drove him mad with want and lust. The softness his skin – smooth, creamy and fragrant – was aphrodisiac to his senses. The small purring sound he made at the back of his throat when his nipples were touched, or licked, or bitten, and the sighs he made was music to the ears. And then that shout, that final shout, which signaled his release… it was the sexiest thing of all.

God bless Wolfram Von Bielefeld, thought Shori Shibuya.

He was so beautiful. So exquisite. So bloody gorgeous. Sometimes it was all Shori could do not to consume him whole. In those moments, Shori just wanted to dominate him, own and possess him in a bond so tight that there was no chance for the blonde to even think about leaving Shori's bed, much less the room or the home they had been sharing in the past two years. Those moments were the ones where Shori usually had to exert a painful amount of self-restraint, lest he shed a tear during their lovemaking for fear of scaring his lover away. After all, it was Shori's habit to take 'intense' to a whole different level when it came to the people he loved.

Luckily, it didn't seem like his Wolf was ready to get away anytime soon. If any, the blond prince was becoming more attached now that he was no longer restricted by the shackles of his so-called engagement to his king, Shori's brother Yuuri.

Wolfram had always craved for attention from his erstwhile fiancé but had never gotten any as Yuuri was always so excruciatingly oblivious and not only a little in denial about Wolfram's deep affections for him. They had been – still were, probably – friends but never lovers. Despite having shared Yuuri's bed for many years, their relationship had always been platonic. How could it not be platonic when there was a sweet adopted daughter named Greta sleeping with them almost every night who served as a way for Yuuri to continue his denial? Shori's heart used to break every single time he saw Wolfram got pushed aside, brushed off, left behind and denied at every turn by his brother. Shori knew exactly how Wolfram had felt; it had been rather like dying from cancer. The disease of longing, loneliness and desperation had started to eat Wolfram from the inside, threatening to completely overtake him, and the only cure that Wolfram had needed was never going to be available. Yuuri would never love Wolfram as much as Wolfram had loved him. And so Shori had decided to launch his Operation Rescue Wolfram.

The first time he had flirted with Wolfram, it had been at a masquerade. They had all been wearing masks, their faces well-hidden and obscured. Shori had chosen a full mask that covered most of his face, including his lips, so that when he spoke his voice was muffled. Yozak had kindly provided him with a baggy costume – the only unused one in his wardrobe because Yozak loved the tight and revealing ones better – and that had served to hide Shori's figure. In other words, he had been completely transformed when he went to approach the blue uniformed knight wearing a demi-masque who had been leaning at a pillar all night long, alternately looking bored and jealous all night long because his fiancé had not deigned to dance with him.

Shori had stalked towards Wolfram purposefully and once he had stood face to face with Wolfram, he said bluntly, "Someone told me the ballroom was chilly. But I thought he was crazy. How can this room be cold when there's such a hot thing like you in it?"

Come to think of it, it had been one of the cheesiest pick-up line anyone had ever used in both worlds. Shori still cringed with shame when he remembered that episode. Had he been using that to pick-up girls on Earth, he would have been badly rejected. Possibly down on the floor after a major bitchslap on his face (one that would definitely not have counted as a proposal), administered by said girl. And he would have probably died when that girl bash his head with a stiletto. There was no amnesty for cheesiness on Earth.

But back then, he had not been on Earth. He had been in Shin Makoku. Bad pick-up lines did not exist because there were usually no pick-up lines at all. There were slaps and sporks for courtship instead. And Wolfram had only jumped slightly at the sound of a stranger's voice and cocked his head slightly to the side to stare at the stranger in curiosity.

"What do you mean?" he had asked.

"It means, you are beautiful. So beautiful you take my breath away," Shori had blurted out. "And you make me feel."

"Feel what?" His eyes had been green and wide and beautiful.

Shori had gasped at the sheer beauty of those emerald orbs and breathless answered, "Just feel."

Then he had taken off his mask and pushed Wolfram against the pillar and kissed the daylights out of him.

So much for Yozak's costume.

"Why don't you shower first?" Shori murmured huskily against Wolfram's nape.

"Mmmh?" was Wolfram's sleepy response.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Hm."

Shori chuckled against that milky skin that smelled of pillows, vanilla and him. "Eloquent."

The morning light was invading their room, seeping through the curtains. It was not exactly welcome because it was at times like these that Shori remembered that he had an office to go to and a job to do and that he had to leave Wolfram alone in their home for at least seven hours. He also remembered that, as much as he enjoyed the challenges he got from his job, as much as he loved earning money for their comfort, he was going to be without Wolfram for the whole day.

It was harder and harder to leave home to go to work these days because it meant leaving Wolfram behind. If there was anything Shori loathed to do, it was leaving him behind. God knows how many times his lover had been left behind in the past. Shori's stomach churned as he thought about walking out of the door to leave Wolfram in the house. Alone. He just wanted to be with Wolfram all the time.

Shori didn't remember a time when he didn't want to be with Wolfram. Well, there probably was a moment like that in the past, for sure, but he couldn't remember it. All he could remember was that ever since he and Wolfram had begun their secret trysts after the masquerade, being away from the blond signified unbearable heartache. Wolfram had never confessed to having felt the same way but Shori didn't need to hear the words from him. Just the way he clung to Shori every time they had kissed in the shadows of the castle already told him what he wanted to know.

It had been surprisingly easy to court Wolfram, even in secret. Or perhaps it was because it had been carried out in secret that it had been easy. Despite the initial shock that had seized the blond after the revelation of his 'assailant's' identity, Wolfram had been shockingly easy to approach. He had ranted and raged at Shori for a good ten minutes before Shori had shut him up with another kiss. This time, with tongue. Wolfram had moaned and groaned for a good quarter of an hour after that.

A telling discovery, that tongue marathon had been. From there he had managed to draw conclusions on several things, the most important being Wolfram was a fantastic kisser. On a lesser degree, Shori had noted that (this note he had mentally created while swiping the roof of Wolfram's mouth with his tongue), Wolfram was full with pent up sexual frustration and seducing him might just be easier than he thought. To Shori it seemed that Wolfram had not only longed and craved for attention and affection from his loved one, but also physical contact. Once they had parted ways that night with a promise to see more of each other from Shori's part, Shori had made up his mind to woo Wolfram with his touches and kisses. It would have been a good strategy.

Or so he had thought.

The tables had pathetically turned on him because the next time they met and he tried to steal a kiss from the blond, he had been pushed away. Not only that, he had been strongly cautioned by the petit ex-prince that he was to keep his hands and his lips to himself at all times at the blond's presence. Needless to say, he had exploded.

"But why? You certainly liked it enough last night!"

"I did. But I am an engaged man, you oaf."

"So?!"

"So I will not cheat on my fiancé."

"He's been flirting with every woman and their sister at the party! We can kiss! He wouldn't mind!"

"But I would."

"And why would you?!"

"He may not love me. But I love him. A kiss from you would never replace that feeling."

Bile had rushed up his throat. It had taken all of his strength of will to push it down. The effort had nearly resulted in a physical collapse. His Maryoku had gone wonky for several hours after that. Jealousy as he had never known it before had possessed him.

He had been about to hurt something – preferably himself – at that statement when Wolfram then extended his arm and reached out for his arm. His arm had suffered a brief but firm reassuring squeeze before the hand that had given it to him dropped to the owner's side.

"I just… I just don't want you to think I'm some kind of a trollop," the emerald-eyed Mazoku had begun. A brief pause later, he finished off, "I respect you. So I want you to respect me as well."

Shori had known then and there exactly why he had fallen in love with Wolfram Von Bielefeld.

Eventually they both woke up from their slumber. Wolfram didn't want to use the bathroom first. He needed a moment to relax his sore muscles. As Shori turned on the tap in the shower and washed himself clean of the evidences of his night of lust with Wolfram, the blond lied down on the bed and did the best he could to rest his overworked derriere. Shori was not a brute although he was terribly dominant in bed and exceedingly possessive but Wolfram could always do without the soreness in the morning after. Then again, last night, had it not been his own voice that demanded Shori to be a little rough? Well, all right, not just a little rough. He had wanted it hard and fast for the first two times, after all, and he had been adamant against letting Shori pull out. So obviously this morning he was reaping what he had sown.

Wolfram could hear Shori's off-key humming in the shower. What the heck was he trying to sing anyway? Wimp, Wolfram thought affectionately. Then he almost knocked himself in the head for using Yuuri's nickname on his brother. Only Shori's sudden bellow containing the actual song lyric of that tune he had been abusing earlier stopped him from inflicting harm on his skull. Shori was singing in a foreign language. He was singing in English.

For a Japanese, Shori's English was flawless. Not that Wolfram knew what English exactly was. He was still relying on Anissina and Murata's translation device on Earth. But he had heard from Sharon and Rodriguez, Shori's colleagues, that Shori's English was flawless. So was his German. And his French. And his Mazoku.

Oh, Shin'ou… his Mazoku is sexy.

Wolfram found three things from Shori that was more appealing above his other qualities. One, his glasses. Two, the way he looked in his business suit and tie. Three, his slightly accented Mazoku pronunciation. And he remembered exactly the first time he had seen Shori exhibiting all of these excellent traits at the same time.

By then, Wolfram and Shori had been dancing a careful waltz around each other. They had been spending time in each other's private company but always sat or stood two feet apart from each other. Ridiculous, of course, but necessary. Wolfram would have never cheated on Yuuri. Ever. It was not that he had been blind to Shori's charm. It was not that he had not wanted to taste Shori's lips again. It was that he had made an oath of a sort to Yuuri. As a soldier of Shin Makoku to his king, as a betrothed to his intended and as a friend to another.

If you fall, I will fall with you.

To cheat on Yuuri would have been a scandal. Scandals would have dragged Yuuri down, lowered the respect the unusual raven haired king had so painstakingly earned from his subjects, allies and even enemies, and destroyed not only both of their reputation but also their families' heart. When Yuuri was down, Gwendal, Conrad, Gunther, Yozak, Greta, Anissina, Cecilie, Gisela, Ulrike, Dacascos, Doria, Sangria, Lasagna and even Adalbert would be down as well. Yuuri's influence was that far-reaching. Wolfram had not wanted to become a catalyst for Yuuri's downfall.

To cheat on Yuuri would have ruptured the harmonious relationship of the Shibuya brothers. And their relationship with their parents. Shori loved Yuuri with all his heart. Yuuri would lay down his life for Shori. Not that they would ever confess that to each other while they were still living and breathing. But their parents knew – had always known – how it worked between Shori and Yuuri. Wolfram had envied them for this brotherly bond of theirs and refused to ever become the knife that cut that bond apart.

So he had proceeded with caution.

That caution had been shattered the moment Shori had shown up from the fountain unannounced in time for Greta's birthday party. No one except Ulrike and her guards had been at the shrine. They had not expected him so dry clothing had not been available. Shori had come to his niece's birthday party wearing his business suit. That had become tight and clung to his body like a second skin and shaped his lean, mean physique due to the dampness of the fabric. His eyeglasses had been hanging precariously on the edge of his nose (his descent from the horse had not been all that smooth) when Wolfram caught sight of him. Then he had opened his mouth and greeted his hosts in perfect Mazoku in that ridiculously sensual baritone of his.

"Hello, everyone. Sorry to show up unannounced. But I believe my niece is celebrating her birthday?"

Caution be damned. Wolfram had marched into the guest room that had been assigned to Shori, locked the door behind him after he had entered and thrown himself at a still damp Shori Shibuya. That had been their third kiss. The second that had made good use of both of their tongues.

"The shower's free," Shori announced suddenly, breaking Wolfram's nostalgic concentration, and showed up in the room already partially dressed.

Wolfram tried to hide his disappointment at seeing the trousers covering Shori's long legs and the shirt that hid his muscular arms. But then he remembered his soreness and realized that it wouldn't do for him to be caught staring longingly at Shori's body. Who knows what the oaf might do to him and his delicate backside if he realized he was being admired?

Fortunately, Shori was focused on dressing up and paid little attention to Wolfram as the blond trekked to the bathroom and closed the door for a shower. He was still on the process of brushing his teeth when he heard the bedroom door open and then close, signaling Shori's advance to the kitchen. Wolfram smiled. It meant, by the time he finished showering, breakfast would be ready.

Reading a German-language newspaper had become Shori's new habit ever since he started working at Bob's company. Wherever he was in the world – except when he was in the other world – he would always make time to read a German-language newspaper. It didn't mater where which country it came from, as long as it was in German.

He read the paper as he was making toast, frying eggs and sausages, turning on the coffeemaker and cutting up fruits. He read it as he set the table. He continued to read it until the halfway point as he sat down and sipped the coffee. He started to read the second half of it after he had cut up his sausages. He read it all the way through to the end waiting for Wolfram to show up.

Then Wolfram showed up. He was wearing a pair of Bermudas and an oversized T-shirt that definitely did not belong to him for breakfast. The T-shirt was Shori's, of course. No doubt about that. As if Wolfram would ever wear anything else at home.

"Is that the one I bought in Paris?" Shori asked, giving Wolfram an appraising look.

"It says Tokyo University, Shori. Even I know how far apart Tokyo and Paris are," Wolfram replied with a shake of his head. Once he was close enough to his lover, he tapped on the bridge of Shori's spectacles. "Someone needs to have their eyes checked!"

The taller man snorted. He grabbed Wolfram by the waist and pulled him to sit down on his lap. Wolfram made himself comfortable there without complaint. There was a reason why, out of the two chairs available at the table, only one was ever really used.

"What time are you coming home tonight?" Wolfram asked as he reached for a slice of apricot.

"Maybe seven. Perhaps even sooner. It depends–" He had to stop because Wolfram turned around and offered him half of an apricot slice. He opened his mouth to let the apricot in and chewed. Once he had swallowed, he continued, "–on how long my conference with the New York office is. It shouldn't take long. I'll be home soon."

"All right," Wolfram replied. He did not really understand the nature of Shori's business but he knew it was important to have this conference activity done. Shori would be home at the end of the day. That was the important thing.

As if sensing a small bout of insecurity on the blond's part, Shori tightened his hold around Wolfram's waist and said, "I'm going to miss you all day long."

"Of course. I'm addictive," Wolfram said, both proudly and teasingly.

No truer words had ever been said. Once again overwhelmed by the fact that the object of his addiction was here with him, he spun his lover around and seized his lips for a proper good morning kiss.

They made a mess of the dining table and their breakfast with that kiss. Wolfram's hair and Shori's shirt were an absolute mess afterwards but Shori was running late so there was no time to change. He could probably cover it up with his jacket or tidy up in the car on his way to work. If all else failed, he could just buy a new one somehow. Wolfram, on the other hand, had nothing to worry about since he didn't have work, school or training to do. In this world, Wolfram had no other obligations than to make Shori happy. Since Shori was happy with Wolfram just being in the same dimension, he really had no need to do anything whatsoever.

He used to hate being idle. He still did. But Shori's scent wafted up from the fabric of his T-shirt and struck Wolfram's nostrils and all he wanted to do now was lie down on the big couch in their living room, hugging yet another Shori-scented object (namely, the cushion pillow that always smelled of Shori's shampoo) and rest there until Shori came back from work. By then he would have conserved enough energy to keep him going through the night, where he was sure they were going to do something fun and adventurous again like last night.

Stretching out there on the sofa, Wolfram let out a contented sigh. He began to yawn not long afterwards. He hugged his Shori pillow tighter and started to close his eyes. If his former mentor, Suzanna Julia, could see him now… she would have probably blasted him off for sleeping again less than an hour after he had woken up. Then again, Suzanna Julia was not there, was she? Neither was her reincarnated soul. Nothing to worry about, was there?

And so he carried on sleeping and dreamt of the first time he realized that it was Shori he truly wanted and not Suzanna Julia's soul carrier, his fiancé, Yuuri.

There had been a rebel uprising in the countryside, specifically in the Von Grantz territory, several weeks after Greta's birthday party. It had not been anything major. Truth be told, it had only bee a small skirmish between civilians in a fairly secluded area. The parties involved had been small and the type of hostility being carried out had not led to any number of casualties. But, still, a rebellion was a rebellion and Yuuri had vowed to not overlook minor issues that occurred in lesser Shin Makoku cities and wanted something to be done about it.

Seeing that the current leader and rightful heir to the Von Grantz aristocracy was a rebel himself and had not deigned to set foot inside the kingdom, and taking into consideration the fact that the Von Grantz territory bordered the Von Bielefeld's land, it should not have been any surprise when Wolfram had volunteered to lead the cavalry, his own regiment, to settle the uprising. The reactions of the participants of the conference had varied but they had basically told Wolfram one thing: they had not trusted him.

Gunter had used euphemisms to say that Wolfram was 'reckless'. Gwendal had been more direct in saying, "Your troops are not sufficiently trained. Let Conrad handle this." Conrad, as it turned out, had not agreed with Wolfram but had said instead, "Let me help you. You can't do this alone." His mother had embarrassed him by being teary-eyed at the prospect of her youngest son 'riding alone to a dangerous war without Conrad and Gwendal' and begged him not to do it. Then she had said that if he insisted on going then perhaps he should consider taking both of his brothers as a back-up. Anissina had sealed the whole deal by raising her eyebrows patronizingly at Wolfram.

Wolfram had been mortified to realize how none of them had had enough faith in him. Within moments of hearing their reactions, he had tried to rationalize their reactions to the fact that most of them were his 'family'. So perhaps the reason why they had objected to his proposal was because they were worried about losing a family member. He had then turned to the one person who was NOT related to him by blood: Yuuri.

"What do you think, Yuuri?" Wolfram demanded. "Do you also think that I shouldn't go? That I can't handle this alone?"

Yuuri had stared at him contemplatively after he had finished the question. Hope had flared in his heart that perhaps Yuuri could be objective about his proposal. He had continued to stare at Yuuri expectantly until finally the king spoke up. And when he did, that hope had come crashing down.

"I don't think you should, Wolf," Yuuri had said seriously, "Leave this to Conrad. You promised Greta that you would spend more time with her, didn't you? If you leave and don't come back on time, she'd be disappointed. I would be disappointed too because you were the one who told me that we need to spend more time as a family."

Wolfram remembered the fury that boiled in his gut after the king had finished his sentence. He had told himself then that it was impossible. Had Yuuri truly thought that he was incapable of taking care of military matters efficiently and return home punctually? Had Yuuri truly believed that his only purpose in their lives was to make Greta happy and cater to their adopted daughter's happiness? Had Yuuri truly believed that just because he wanted to serve his kingdom it meant that he was going to forget and neglect his duties as a father?

He had left the room in anger and in tears after the meeting was done (the decision had been made; Conrad had been instructed to deal with the situation). While everyone else had then proceeded to the dining room for supper, he had run all the way to the stables and cried in his steed's stall, on top of his steed's hay, with only his loyal steed as company. He had hated himself for crying but the anger and disappointment had really burned. It had hurt. A lot.

A few hours later, Shori had stridden inside the stable. By then, Wolfram had calmed down a bit but still wanted to sulk some more. He had not particularly wanted to see anyone and definitely not the brother of the King Who Did Not Trust Him. Wolfram's first thought had been that Shori was there to rub more salt on his gaping wound. After all, Shori was as bad as Gwendal and Conrad when it came to protecting his own younger brother. Wolfram seriously could have done without anymore mollycoddling and patronizing from all these people and had been about to brush his admirer off when suddenly Shori burst into the stall and grabbed Wolfram by the collar of his jacket.

"Get up, you wimp," he had said through gritted teeth.

Wolfram had been taken aback by the rudeness of this man who claimed to love him. Once he had been on his feet, he had eyed Shori warily and asked, "What do you want?"

"I want you to get on your horse and lead your troops to the location of the uprising. Your cavalry is already waiting outside and they are wondering where you are."

Wolfram had spluttered. "WHAT?! How… what?! How could they– wait, did you–"

"Shut up, Wolfram! Listen to me!"

Steadying Wolfram onto his feet, he had grabbed the slender shoulders of his secret object of affection and said, "I was spying on your meeting. I heard what they said. I hate it when they patronize you like that. I was waiting for your explosion and tell them otherwise but you ran away instead. I couldn't bear to see you succumb to their condescension like this. What you need to do is leave tonight and get there before Conrad does. Conrad needs more time to gather his soldiers and won't be ready until the day after tomorrow at least. You, on the other hand, have been preparing your troops to go as soon as you get permission. If you go now and deal with the situation, you can show them that you are a capable soldier and that you are worthy of your title as a knight of this kingdom.

"I have taken the liberty of informing your lieutenant that your plan of leading your regiment there would remain unchanged despite the king's decision. I've also spoken to Gisela. She's going to come with you and provide medical assistance. You have very loyal men, Wolfram. They did not hesitate to grab their weapons and prepare their horses when I told them you were leaving tonight. They believe you would insist on going. And I insist that you do. Because I know you can. And because I know you will be able to deal with everything and come back in time for Greta's bedtime story tomorrow night. Go, Wolfram. Go now. And then come back to us."

Wolfram had been speechless for the next five seconds. Emotions had run through his whole being in quick succession: shock – disbelief – gratitude – happiness – pride – love. Once he had managed to overcome all these overwhelming sensations, he had stopped wasting time. He had launched himself at Shori and captured the taller man's lips in a mind-blowing kiss. Then he had released Shori and run outside to meet his troops, Shori's laugh accompanying his departure.

In the end, Shori had been right. Wolfram had only needed twenty four hours to deal with the whole situation. After having ridden all through the night to the Von Grantz territory, they had arrived there at dawn, just in time to prevent another outbreak of hostility between the opposing civilian parties. The sight of soldiers bearing the royal military emblem, led by a powerful fire elemental Mazoku from the influential Von Bielefeld aristocracy who entered the would-be battlefield with his head held up high and a hard, fiery glint on his eyes, had been enough to effectively dampen the hostile spirits of the militants.

Before noon, they had captured the men responsible for having sparked the controversy that led to the uprising. Then he had sent a pigeon post to Adalbert Von Grantz, telling him in more ways than one that he was an irresponsible lout and quite possibly a coward for not returning to his kingdom to take care of the citizens of his land. He had demanded that the 'old blond geezer' to get over himself and return at once to Shin Makoku to take up his responsibility as the leader of the Von Grantz territory and that if he did not, Wolfram would personally barbeque him alive. Before sunset, a reply from Adalbert had come, promising his return and that Wolfram could expect him to report to duty within a week's time. Satisfied, Wolfram had instructed his lieutenant Friedrich and a group of five of his most capable soldiers to stay put until Adalbert returned. Wolfram had then got back on his horse and started his journey home so that he could keep his bedtime story schedule with Greta.

They had all been waiting for him at the castle gate. He hadn't bothered being humble about his success. He had relished in the dumbstruck faces of his brothers, mother and fiancé. He had walked up to Gwendal, saluted him in the military style and drawled out his verbal report.

"The suspects had been apprehended. My soldiers are putting them behind bars as we speak. I have interrogated them and everything will be in my report. You can expect them tomorrow at your desk. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bedtime story to relate to my daughter." Turning to Yuuri, he had asked, "Are you coming with me, wimp?"

He had left them standing there with their jaws slightly hanging. Yuuri had hurried after him and they had both gone to Greta's room. Right after Yuuri had entered the room, announcing noisily to Greta that Wolfram had come back safely, Wolfram had found a hand grabbing a hold of his arm. Wolfram had turned to the side and found Shori staring at him intently. The older Shibuya brother must have followed them inside from the courtyard.

"Just so you know," Shori had said in a voice that had been unmistakably dripping with lust, "I am going to be thinking about you and your annoyingly smug attitude when I pleasure myself tonight."

Releasing Wolfram, the bespectacled man had then taken a step backward and smiled beatifically at Wolfram. "Good night, Wolfram. Sweet dreams."

As Shori walked away from him down the hallway, Wolfram had come to the realization that the Shibuya that he wanted was not Yuuri. It was Shori.

End of Part 1. To Be Concluded in Part 2.