It was around ten at night and Yuuri busied himself with some last-minute puffing of pillows and straightening of his (or their? He wasn't sure anymore) bed sheets. It wasn't that Lasagna, Sangria and Doria slacked off in their most important cleaning beat (oh, no! They'd all have committed suicide simultaneously if they saw what Yuuri was doing now and what it meant to their sense of pride in their work). It was more force of habit than anything. It was not like his mother would be checking up on his tidiness here.
Once satisfied, Yuuri slid between the sheets and sighed as he felt the cool fabric soothe his tired body. He'd bathed in hot water just a few moments before, and this change in temperature hit the spot. Today had been uneventful, though the atmosphere in the castle had seemed charged with happy excitement, but he didn't make too much of it. People were more often than not very happy to know he was around or when his stay lasted more than a week, and it had been more than three months since he'd arrived. But really, who was counting?
Wolfram then walked into Yuuri's bedroom. He was already dressed for bed (having changed in his old room prior) so all he had to do now was to join his betrothed on the mattress. That was all well and good (Yuuri was used to him by now after all) except for… well, Yuuri couldn't really put a name on it. All he knew was that something was up and that he, king though he was, was out of the loop. And that just simply would not do. But how to get it out of Wolfram… Maybe if he asked the blond prince about his day he could then ease into the idea. "H-hey Wolf! How was your day?" Inwardly Yuuri wanted to add "Toast anyone lately?" but he knew from painful first-hand experience that if the answer was no, he'd be toast.
Wolfram just gave him a small, sad smile. "Funny you mentioned 'your day.' Yeah, my day was okay, thanks." He turned over with his back facing Yuuri.
When he didn't find the answer amongst images of greeting maids, nodding in acknowledgment to guards, complimenting the cook and passing Conrart the salt, Yuuri drew a blank.
"Today is my birthday," Wolfram said simply.
Yuuri's heart dropped into his stomach. Or at least it seemed as if his digestive acids were what was eating away at it. Then Wolfram turned around to face him and verdant eyes made no less stunning by the lack of emotion in them entered Yuuri's line of sight. At that moment, Yuuri knew he had messed up. BIG TIME. Yuuri scrambled for an answer, but his panic-fried neurons could not force one. Finally from someplace deep down his mouth found "What would you like? Even half the kingdom is yours for the asking." Yuuri then heard Wolfram make an "oomph" sound he probably intended to be a snort but which came out as if he'd just been punched in the stomach.
Yuuri felt helpless. Especially when the blond demon finally heaved a sigh in defeat, sat up and hugged his legs, putting his chin between his knees.
Yuuri crawled so he was in front of Wolfram's feet, tucked his own legs beneath him and bowed low before his friend in a Japanese atama sageru. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," the Demon king said into the sheets, not daring to raise his head. If he did, he would have seen Wolfram copying the foreign gesture to apologize in return.
"I'm sorry too," Wolfram answered softly, his words muffled by the silk. "I'm sorry for following you around all the time, for calling you a cheater when you have no real commitment to me, for expecting that you'd remember things like birthdays and anniversaries…" Wolfram sighed again. "I'm sorry that I've been trying to make this unrequited love a relationship," he tried – and failed -- to conclude brightly.
For a second Yuuri found it almost impossible to put his weight back on his hands to raise himself up. He thought that if he could have ruled the world slumped on that mattress as he was, he would have. That way he would not have had to notice Wolfram's shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his body. That way he wouldn't have seen the unchecked tears falling from Wolfram's eyes when he finally raised Wolfram up by slender, sinewy shoulders. That way he wouldn't have known that Wolfram was crying because of him. That way he wouldn't have had to admit to himself that this was not the first time that had happened.
Wolfram put his hands on Yuuri's arms and made the king let go of him. Yuuri didn't miss the small wince Wolfram made at himself for being seen in a moment of weakness before he righted his posture and sat properly as befitting royalty. "Yuuri, there is one thing I'd like to ask of you for my birthday if your offer still stands," Wolfram said warily, his tone contradicting his regal pose.
Yuuri instantly brightened. "Anything! Even to half of the kingdom!" Suddenly, giving away chunks of his realm seemed like nothing if it would make Wolfram happy, even though said dominion had grown considerably as kingdoms and territories annexed themselves to Shin Makoku through the Mazoku-human alliance.
Wolfram bit his lip, eyes pleading, and held out his arms expectantly, like a small child wishing to be carried. Yuuri gulped. The sight burned into the backs of his eyelids for him to see until the day he died. "I would like a hug," Wolfram begged in a whisper. "Just for a few moments and I won't try anything... Would that be okay?"
Yuuri nodded, too stunned to speak. The next second Wolfram embraced him, and Yuuri's arms found their home around Wolfram's body before his mind even told them to move.
Yuuri felt Wolfram smile against his skin. For a moment Yuuri wondered if he could heal the heart that beat weakly against his own, probably bruised and battered from the many times he denied it. He felt the breath in Wolfram's sigh as it swept over his shoulder, as well as the softness of Wolfram's cheek nuzzling him over the soft fabric of his pajama top. Yuuri knew then that Wolfram was probably desperately trying to commit the feel of it to memory, saving it for the worst of bad days. Not for the first time tonight Yuuri felt like the biggest jerk in the two known worlds.
The floodgates broke.
Yuuri took care to move just enough away from Wolfram's comfortable captivity of him to let his black eyes desperately search the other's green ones. Suddenly an old rhyme Gunter had been teaching him made sense.
The best romances commence like a breath.
Not all loves begin past the jaws of death.
Most love stories start more softly than snow.
Most start when both cannot let go.
Finally Yuuri said, "Is it okay if I don't let go?"
das Ende (und ein neuer Anfang...)
The End (and a new Beginning...)
Thanks bunches to my wonderful beta DayStarsMom. This fic is dedicated to her cats. I hope they patch up their differences at a much more respectable hour next time so their humans can get some sleep.
Oh yeah -- Kyou Kara Maou! (Maruma, God Save Our King!, and whatever-else-have-you) is not mine.
No singing on this one either. -atama sageru- Maybe next time, yes?