Eidolon
This is a one-shot PWP story that was inspired by a multi-chaptered story that I haven't written yet. Go figure….
I also wrote this because after reading the 50th fic about Wolfram ending the engagement and running away, Yuuri realizing he loves him after all, and then Wolfram and Yuuri make angst look like an Olympic sport – blah blah, I wanted to give it a shot and see what I come up with. :P
Summary: It's been four years since he last saw him. This one night he will see his king and one desire. And on this one night, he will have him thanks to a simple party game.
Note: takes place four years after episode 80 of KKM Season 3. You should watch the first two episodes to get the context.
Warnings: graphic sex, OOC (but for a purpose) for Yuuri.
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To His Lordship, Wolfram Alistair von Bielefeld of the Bielefeld Territory,
Your presence is humbly requested and greatly desired at the End of Summer Ball and Celebration of His Majesty Shibuya Yuuri, King and Sovereign of the Great Kingdom of Shin Makoku's Twentieth Birthday in the 3045th year of our Divine Ruler Shinou the Great. This special event marks the fourth year of His Majesty's efficacious reign and the formal choosing of the Prince or Princess Consort. As one of the heirs of the Ten Aristocratic Families, you are eligible to present yourself as a viable candidate for His Majesty. This is an exceptional opportunity as His Majesty will choose someone worthy to rule by his side and lead Shin Makoku to more years of prosperity and peace.
The End of Summer Ball is to be held at the Castle of Blood Pledge on the eve of August 4th, 3045. We look forward to your company.
Sincerely,
Lord Gunter von Christ
Lord of the Christ Territory
Advisor to His Majesty, King Shibuya Yuuri of Shin Makoku.
Wolfram read the stiff, gold-trimmed invitation five more times before letting it drop onto the desk in front of his expectant uncle.
"I'm not going," he stated flatly.
"Yes, you are," Waltorana said with finality. "Like it said, you are eligible to be a candidate. And it would be a grave insult to the crown if you didn't go without a very serious reason."
"Tell them you're dying," Wolfram said without hesitation.
Waltorana gave his nephew a mocking look. "I was just there two weeks ago. It was clear I am perfectly healthy."
"Things happen!" Wolfram protested, though weakly. "Tell them I'm dying! They haven't seen me in years."
Waltorana sniffed as he picked up the invitation. "No, you're not and given your history with the king, they'll suspect you're backing out of it."
Why would anyone care….That was exactly what he was doing. It was exactly what he had done.
"Like a coward," Waltorana added disdainfully.
"I'm not a coward!" Wolfram said angrily. "I refuse to go to this…debaucherous event and parade myself around like cattle at a fair just so he can reject me in front of everyone! Just so I can once again show everyone what a desperate, pitiful creature I am! I want to preserve what little dignity I have, thank you very much!"
"All the more reason to go," Waltorana argued, not at all affected by Wolfram's protests. "Show them it doesn't bother you. Show them that your pride isn't so wounded that you can't show your own face at a stupid party."
Wolfram bristled. "This isn't some regular party! It's a contest! I'm going because I think I have a chance at winning the king's favor!" Wolfram snorted. "As if I had the chance! I'll look like an idiot!"
"Then go because you don't want to bring embarrassment to the Bielefeld name," Waltorana said pointedly. "To reject such an invitation is to reject the king himself and that, my nephew, will cause you and me great trouble. I would rather avoid that, to be honest."
Wolfram's jaw clenched. The Bielefeld family had fallen in grace in the past few years – starting with the end of his engagement to the king. Unpopular to begin with, Wolfram's seemingly arrogant annulment of his engagement coupled with his election as a candidate for the crown made him and his family look like opportunistic deceivers. Their relationship with the monarchy and its many supporters was delicate, to say the least.
"The fact that they even invited you is a testament to King Yuuri's desire to maintain the peace," Waltorana added, glancing over the troublesome invitation once again. "Your attendance would be an act of good faith."
"And if he rejects me?" Wolfram asked testily.
Without missing a beat, Waltorana replied. "Then accept your loss with grace. You leave on Wednesday."
* * * * * * * * * * * * E * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wolfram stared at the slowly passing scenery. In just a few hours he would be at the gate of the palace. He hadn't stepped foot inside the capital in four years. Not since that day.
He had never thought he would see Blood Pledge Castle again. His departure had caused such a ruckus that it didn't seem right to entertain the idea of returning. With that one letter ending his relationship to Yuuri, he had burned the bridge that connected him to his immediate family, his status, and that past year of his life. He hadn't dared to show his face out of fear of the rumors and facing his ex-fiancé, whose current regard for Wolfram remained a mystery.
I, Wolfram von Bielefeld, hereby end my engagement to his Majesty, Shibuya Yuuri of Shin Makoku.
With that one sentence Wolfram had confirmed the whispers that he was to replace the king in his absence. He had, in just a few simple words, confirmed that he was a rival to Yuuri's right to the throne and a potential enemy. That was what the gossipers believed and he did nothing to quell their vindictive words. So rumor became truth and he stayed far away from Yuuri and far away from politics, for his ex-fiancé's sake.
So he had lived in relative isolation. He assisted his uncle with running the estate and training the new fire wielders from the military academy. He occasionally corresponded by letter with his brothers, keeping the topics strictly to business. He managed affairs with the surrounding villages and farmlands in their territory. He led the household when his uncle was away on business. He kept busy. And he kept far away from anything that had to do with Yuuri.
He tried to forget. He forced himself to stop thinking about the young king. Those first few weeks were difficult. He had laid in his bed, fighting the urge to run back home, to his family, to Greta, and to Yuuri. He tried not to remember fondly the moments he had with them. He did his best to bury the torturous desire he felt for the beautiful teenage boy.
He told himself it was a silly adolescent crush. What he felt wasn't love. He was merely excited to finally have someone relatively his own age to talk to (in body and mind at least). It was because Yuuri was so unusual in his features that he was obsessed with the youth's looks. Yuuri was simply a novelty and his fixation on their nonexistent relationship was the result of misguided thoughts from a spoiled immature prince.
He knew better now. He was mature.
Wolfram's mind drifted to his fiancé. Twenty years old….he wondered what Yuuri looked like now. He imagined him to be a little taller. Maybe broader in the shoulders. Likely his boyish skinniness had been replaced by the lean muscle of an adult. Perhaps he looked similar his older brother or maybe his Maou form.
Wolfram couldn't say he had changed much physically. Maybe he was a few inches taller. His face had lost some of its babyish-ness. He looked more like his uncle and late father…or more like Shinou, creepy as that was.
He pondered if Yuuri had gotten better with his magic. He had heard rumors that the king no longer summoned the Maou when he used his magic. They said that Yuuri had gone into formal training with the Sage at the Shinou's Temple. His uncle and representatives of Bielefeld told that Yuuri had progressed impressively in his water wielding, reaching milestones that most trainees wouldn't reach for years. They equated it to his immense magical ability. Many equated it to his human heritage that made him develop faster than normal. If the rumors were true, then he was impressed. To accomplish such a thing would require great discipline and ambition.
Was Yuuri even sexier now than he was then?
Wolfram immediately quieted such a thought. He shouldn't be thinking those things. It mattered nothing if Yuuri was still attractive. He was sure Yuuri's facial features had changed now that he was fully an adult, but he shouldn't be wondering if he was attractive. Besides, to think such a thing would only cause him pain.
Taking his gaze away from the window, Wolfram threw his head back against the seat. Oh, how thoughts of Yuuri had caused him pain. Poets wished they could experience the level of angst and pining he felt those first few weeks and months away from Yuuri's side. Looking back on how he was, Wolfram cringed at his own pitifulness. A demon lord shouldn't give in to such theatrics.
But to say he missed Yuuri would have been an understatement. Even now, he had to fight the memories of the adventures he had shared with the young king. He could recall every last detail of every conversation, laugh, and fight they had. He had done so much with Yuuri and he couldn't deny the friendship they built despite their initial hostility. Yuuri's clumsiness, his genuine kindness, innocence – the things that set him far apart from anyone else Wolfram had met, gave the demon ex-prince something to look forward too. Something to call his own.
But, his practical mind told him it wasn't love. They were both too young to know what love was. What silly kids they were. He was.
At least, that's what he tried to tell himself when the loneliness crept up on him at night when he sought sexual release with himself – or some casual acquaintance. The fact that he could only find release if he thought of Yuuri in the most sinful way possible was just a happenstance. Nothing to mull over.
Gods, he wasn't looking forward to this.
* * * * * * * * * * * * E * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wolfram didn't realize he had dozed off until a servant knocked on the carriage door. Jolting awake, he was led out of the carriage into a bustle of activity. Servants grabbed his luggage and looked after the horses. His arrival was announced and he was greeted at the palace door by a very surprised, but still professional, Gunter. The normally dramatic man said nothing and gave no implication as to what he thought of Wolfram's sudden appearance. He only gave him a formal rehearsed greeting followed by instructions on where he could find his room, the baths, and when he should prepare for the night's event.
He didn't know he was expecting when he would encounter the advisor. He wasn't expecting a lot of fuss, but he thought that Christ might make a little fuss over seeing someone who ran away years ago. It was yet another sign that they had all moved on.
He didn't see Gwendal. No doubt he was locked up in his office handling paperwork. His brother hated parties and did everything he could to avoid them. Wolfram didn't blame him. He was jealous that Gwendal could come up with a legitimate excuse.
He saw no one when he arrived at his rooms save for the over-friendly maids. He finally started to feel a tinge of nervousness when the familiar décor of the palace surrounded him. He tried not to think about how he would explain his presence or converse with his estranged family later that night. He reasoned that the best approach was to just be professional and act like he was nowhere near as anxious as he really felt.
The hours between his arrival and the ball went by too fast for Wolfram. After packing himself into his formal wear, he grudgingly made his way down the maze-like corridors to the ballroom. He didn't even think to how he was still able to navigate the various turns and twists after all these years. It was still second nature to him.
Wolfram caught a glimpse of himself in a decorative mirror. He wore the traditional dark blue of his clan but it was no longer the military uniform he once wore. It was a relatively simple formal jacket with matching pants, with silver embroidery along the lapels and cuffs. Wolfram no longer needed the various seals and pins that showed his military status. It was actually refreshing to not have to shine the medals and arrange them according to etiquette. It was one of the few things he preferred over his previous life.
"My Lord," The doorman greeted with a graceful bow and opened the huge door for Wolfram to enter.
The ex-prince had to blink a few times when met with the bright lights of several dozen fully-lit chandeliers that illuminated the huge ballroom. He was immediately presented with the sound of upbeat music played by an eight-piece orchestra hidden in the corner. The smell of wine, food, and incense permeated the air and engulfed him as he entered into the crowd of people.
His presence was immediately noticed. The other guests began to whisper. He kept his gaze straight ahead, making his way toward the wine table, to avoid accidentally making eye contact with the curious stares directed his way. He could imagine the whispered surprise behind lacy fans and white gloves. He was sure he was the center of the gossip. Everyone was staring at the ex-prince who had the audacity to show his face at a party meant to find his replacement.
He was just getting a glass of wine when he overheard one of the guests.
"So he showed up after all….He's either that bold or that desperate…"
'I haven't decided,' Wolfram thought dryly as he took a sip. He waited for the alcohol to dull the anxious twinge in his chest. He looked around the room. Yuuri hadn't made his entrance yet. The guests were all chatting and sipping their drinks, and occasionally looking at him as if he wouldn't notice. Wolfram sighed. His reasons for coming seemed to grow weaker by the minute and his desire to look upon Yuuri one more time seemed so stupid.
Just when he was thinking he should not have come, Weller called out to him.
"Wolfram!"
Wolfram turned around to see his half-brother approach him with a surprised, yet happy, smile. Though he didn't look a day over thirty, Wolfram noticed the shiny silver strands that highlighted his light brown hair that was now tied at his nape with a dark navy ribbon. He still wore his usual khaki uniform.
"How have you been?" Weller greeted him warmly. If he thought Wolfram's appearance to be awkward, he didn't let on. Instead, he grasped his brother's arms in greeting and stood back to take in the sight.
"I've been well," Wolfram said politely, just noticing Weller's crow's feet. He didn't have those before.
"My, you've grown!" Conrad stated, looking him up and down. "You're almost my height!"
Yes, Wolfram could now make eye contact with his brother without tilting his head back. His entire life he was always petite compared to his brothers. It was thought that he would never grow past five and a half feet. But he got a last minute growth spurt in the last year.
"Gwendal will be pleased to know you're here," Weller continued. "He didn't think you would come."
Wolfram didn't think he would either. "I wanted the chance to see you all and give my regards."
Weller smiled widely. "Well, I can say we are certainly glad to have you here. This is certainly a lovely surprise."
"Where is the king?" Wolfram had to ask. The anticipation in his gut was growing to be a true annoyance.
Weller nodded toward two huge doors on the other side of the ballroom. "He should be making his entrance any minute now."
Any minute. Wolfram's anxiety swelled. He briefly contemplated just turning around and hiding in his room. His mind couldn't pick an emotion. The part of him that wanted to see Yuuri out of morbid curiosity grew louder while the part of him that cursed him for coming here lent its own noise to his already unsure mind.
"I'm sure Yuuri will be happy to see you," Conrad said gently, still taking in the sight of his brother.
"Are you sure of that?" Wolfram asked skeptically. "We didn't exactly leave on the best of terms."
Conrad's smile faded, but he remained positive. "Yuuri is forgiving….much has changed."
Wolfram was about to reply when a deep voice interrupted them.
"So you made it."
"Gwendal," Wolfram nodded in his brother's direction. Gwendal walked up to them with his arms in their usual spot crossed over his chest. Despite his stoic expression, Wolfram noted the glint of disbelief in his gaze.
"You've grown," Gwendal observed, looking up and down Wolfram's form.
"He has, has he not?" Conrad said, boldly grasping Wolfram's shoulder to turn him to face Gwendal directly. "I was just telling him that."
"I must admit, I did not expect to see you here," Gwendal stated, though his tone remained neutral.
"It would've been offensive for me to refuse an invitation from the king," Wolfram said smoothly. He took a sip from his wine to push down his stubborn nerves.
"True," Gwendal agreed. "I admire your bravery."
Wolfram suspected that his brothers fully expected him not to come. Perhaps, they wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't. Gwendal's comment and Conrad's warm welcome implied that they knew his arrival to be uncertain, but were now willing to act as casual as possible. He wasn't sure if he would call it bravery that led him here. He would rather call it masochism.
Before he could stop himself, Wolfram heard himself ask. "How is his Majesty these days?"
Gwendal and Conrad shared a pointed look before Conrad answered. "He has been very busy with the kingdom. He's taken on most of the work these days." Conrad tilted his head at Gwendal. "Poor Gwendal here has little to do with his time nowadays."
"It has definitely been a relief," Gwendal said.
"I can imagine," Wolfram said noncommittally
Conrad nodded. "His Majesty has grown into a competent ruler. He has progressed in leaps and bounds."
So the rumors did hold water. Wolfram couldn't help but feel pride for his fiancé, despite everything. It was good to hear that Yuuri really was growing into his role as monarch.
Conrad gave Wolfram a knowing smirk. "He has lost quite a bit of his wimpiness."
At that, Wolfram couldn't help but smile nostalgically. The thought of Yuuri being less wimpy was novel. Now that Conrad and Gwendal had confirmed the rumors passed on by his uncle and others, Wolfram was even more morbidly curious to see this new Yuuri.
As if on cue, Christ appeared in front of the grand entrance doors and faced the crowd. The music slowed to a graceful halt and everyone turned expectantly and eager to see the young king.
"Lords and Ladies of the Court," Christ greeted with a grand bow. "I welcome all of you to the End of Summer Ball and the celebration of his Majesty's Twentieth birthday. This occasion is of great significance as it heralds our beloved king's fourth year of reign over a prosperous kingdom. Under his rule, we have seen great advances in forming alliances, building our nation, and promoting prosperity and peace across the continent. All thanks to his majesty's efforts."
Christ looked upon the audience with a knowing smile. "In honor of his Majesty's year and as part of our beloved tradition, we are holding a contest to help his Majesty choose his Summer Companion to celebrate with him on this grand occasion. I extend a special welcome to the candidates."
Christ gestured toward Wolfram and the other men and women that the blonde was just now noticing. Wolfram watch them whisper to each other. He had been dreading this moment. From them, Yuuri would choose his Summer Companion. It was the highlight of the evening and a fiercely competitive event as the Summer Companions often became the leading candidate for Royal Consort. Many a noble family choose their best protégés to compete. Only the most beautiful and well-bred were presented to the king for his favor. To Wolfram, it was only slightly more dignified than a cattle auction.
"This first night is meant to be light and festive," Gunter continued. "This is the candidates' opportunity to meet the king and win his early favor. And to make the evening more interesting, his Majesty and his Eminence, the Great Sage, have decided to end the evening with a game of chance."
The crowd was intrigued. Wolfram heard the guests whisper excitedly. Usually, the king would simply choose a companion from the candidates. He found it very odd that Yuuri would leave such a choice up to a party game.
"Whoever wins this game will have the honor of spending the rest of the evening with the King," Christ looked upon the crowd roguishly.
This got the crowd even more excited and Wolfram even more nervous. The evening with the king would not be innocent. It was common for kings to choose a companion out of the audience to spend some intimate time with during the Summer Ball. It was a rather raunchy tradition that went back centuries. Wolfram's own mother had participated in such customs and no one batted an eye. As king, Yuuri had his pick of any man or woman of the court and beyond.
But that confused Wolfram. The Yuuri he remembered would never agree to such thing. Yuuri was too shy and too innocent to ever submit to such a thing. Especially if his choices were between men and women. And to leave his choice up to a game was even more surprising. Surely, Yuuri would want the chance to pick a woman.
Wolfram sighed. This was too confusing. Just what had happened in the years he was gone?
Wolfram looked up when Christ spoke again, voice loud and echoing throughout the ballroom.
"Lords and Ladies of the Court, it is my pleasure to announce his Majesty, Shibuya Yuuri, 27th Demon King of Shin Makoku. Join me in welcoming his omnipotent presence!"
With perfect timing, guards appeared to open the huge ornate doors to the ballroom. Everyone, including Wolfram, held their breath in quiet anticipation as the doors slowly creaked open to reveal the young king.
When the king finally entered, Wolfram's mind went blank.
Yuuri entered the room with a smooth swagger that befitted a young monarch. His stature gave off a confidence and ease that Wolfram never would have thought the wimp capable of. His finely polished black boots clicked assuredly against the marble floor. He steadily met the gaze of the guests as he walked into the ballroom to stand before Gunter, who bowed and backed away to allow Yuuri to directly address the audience.
Wolfram's breath hitched. He didn't even hear the applause from the crowd nor thought to join them. Yuuri was…gorgeous. Wolfram's mind tried to take in the entire picture of his now grown ex-fiancé. Yuuri was taller. His shoulders were wider. Yuuri's tight high-waisted trousers showed off his long legs. Wolfram couldn't help but follow the shapely line of Yuri's legs that led him to a firm round backside and an implicit bulge between his legs. Wolfram's eyes swept up a slim torso clothed in a tight embroidered vest over a billowy black shirt. Wolfram's traitorous eyes forced him to take in the small "v" of skin and smooth neck that were left exposed by Yuuri's top. Black, shoulder-length hair framed a stoic face that no longer bore the cherubic features of an awkward teen. Wolfram was looking at a beautiful young man whose very image had captured not only his attention, but that of the entire room.
He watched Yuuri scan the room, taking in all the faces of his guests, his expression betraying nothing. To the demon lord's dismay, Yuuri's eyes caught his and he found himself unable to look away. Yuuri's eyes seemed blacker and sharper than before. Wolfram was reminded of the Maou spirit. Wolfram was taken by how clear and deep they were. They betrayed an otherworldliness that he hadn't seen before. They were no longer the wide-eyed gaze of a child, but the knowing look of an adult.
Yuuri regarded him with an unreadable expression for the briefest of moments. Wolfram suddenly felt vulnerable. Then just as quickly, Yuuri broke the stare and moved to stand in front of Christ to greet the crowd. Wolfram didn't hear what Yuuri was saying as he tried to fight back the long-buried feelings that Yuuri had unconsciously aroused in him. Despite what he had heard, Wolfram hadn't expected that. He thought with years of silence and separation that the king wouldn't have such an affect on him, but it seemed that years of being apart had the opposite effect. His guilty fantasies welled up in him and he took another large swig of wine to push them back down where they belonged. But he still stayed fixated on Yuuri, who spoke to the crowd with a deep, smooth tenor that made Wolfram quiver.
Wolfram just watched as the crowd applauded again and Yuuri signaled for the orchestra to start playing. It was time for the dance. Yuuri gracefully moved across the room to choose his first partner. The other nine candidates shuffled forward to win his attention while Wolfram consciously stepped back. Wolfram froze when Yuuri walked closer to him and was scared for a moment that he would pick him. He wasn't ready for that yet. To his relief – or was it disappointment? – Yuuri moved to the side and picked Adelaide von Grantz, a niece of Adelbert von Grantz, and graciously offered her his hand. Adelaide could barely contain her glee as she took the offered hand and was led to the dance floor.
Yuuri glanced back over his shoulder to catch Wolfram's gaze again as he walked onto the floor. Wolfram stiffened, but Yuuri's face remained pleasantly aloof and he turned his attention to Lady Adelaide.
* * * * * * * * * * * * E * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next hour was spent just watching Yuuri from the sides. Wolfram was struggling to take in this transformed version of the wimp. He watched Yuuri dance with the candidates – male and female - treating each one with total grace and friendliness, every bit the charming gentleman. Wolfram watched the other guests mingle and chat with each other while occasionally glancing at the king as he danced. Wolfram didn't dare wander too close to the dance floor. He stayed distant, aimlessly wandering and chatting with any guests that he recognized. He saw his brothers chatting with some diplomats and decided not to interrupt. He really wished Greta was there. She would have made a nice distraction.
After refilling his wineglass for the fourth time, he returned to staring at Yuuri. The more he watched Yuuri, the more in denial he became – of this new Yuuri and of the uncomfortable feelings he awoke.
Yuuri glided across the floor, leading his partners with complete authority. He was even able to carry on conversations with them. Wolfram had to scoff. Back in the day, Yuuri could barely move in time with the music and here he was doing fancy twists and turns as if it were nothing at all.
Wolfram watched Yuuri choose another candidate – a young man from Karbelnikoff, judging by his ruby-red hair. It seemed that Yuuri would dance with all ten candidates, including him. He had stupidly lost count of how many Yuuri had danced with and now it would be his turn soon.
"Well if it isn't Lord Bielefeld!"
Wolfram turned to see the Sage approach him with a wide smile. "Your Grace."
"Call me Murata," Murata said dismissively. "It's been a long time. How have you been?"
"I've been well," Wolfram said cautiously. He had never been able to fully relax around the Sage. He was too devious and secretive.
"You're a candidate, I see?" Murata grin shrunk to a devious smirk. "Fancy that."
"I'm only here out of obligation," Wolfram said firmly. "It would've been an insult to refuse the king's invitation."
"Of course, of course," Murata said lightly. "But you must know that your presence has caused quite a stir. The guests are all a-buzz."
"Yes, I figured as much," Wolfram rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. He should probably slow down at some point, but he didn't really care at the moment. He needed to suppress his growing lust.
"Yuuri was happy you came," Murata said out of the blue.
"He is?" Wolfram figured that Yuuri would be upset to see him, knowing how their last encounter ended.
Murata gave a nod. "You were the one he looked forward the most to seeing."
"I highly doubt that," Wolfram dismissed such a thought. Maybe Yuuri wouldn't outright spurn Wolfram but he wouldn't be happy to see him.
Murata's smile was indiscernible. "You never know. Much can change and it has changed."
"I can see that," Wolfram sighed, looking back to where Yuuri was still dancing. "He's grown."
"Very much so," Murata agreed. "He has made us all proud with his progress. I barely recognize him from the clumsy teen he once was."
"Me too," Wolfram breathed, still fixated on Yuuri's graceful moves.
"He has blossomed," Murata continued, watching Wolfram closely. "Many have noticed."
That much was apparent. If Wolfram was having such a hard time keeping his thoughts in control then he could only imagine that the other nobility were thinking. Just glancing around the room he could see the licentious looks that everyone threw at Yuuri when the king's back was turned. Yuuri was something to be desired. It made the stakes all the higher.
"Are you looking forward to the game?" Murata asked suddenly, eyes glinting with mischief.
"The game?" Wolfram had forgotten about the game they were to play later. He had forgotten he would have to play as well.
"The game that will determine who gets to share the evening with the king…and his bed," Murata added that last part with an impish whisper.
"I suppose…" Wolfram said uncertainly. Yuuri was now bowing to his partner as the song ended and he stood up and scanned the room for his next partner.
"Well, you should be. Because the game will start right after you dance with the king," Murata said, that smirk returning.
"I dance?" Wolfram said, suddenly nervous. He had definitely forgotten that he would dance with Yuuri.
Murata chuckled a little at Wolfram's sudden apprehension. He nodded his head to the space behind Wolfram. "Yes, it's your turn now."
Following Murata's line of vision, Wolfram turned around to see Yuuri standing there quietly waiting for him. Wolfram was momentarily struck dumb as Yuuri stood before him, in all his glory, with his hand extended and a gentle smile on his face.
"Lord Bielefeld," Yuuri's charming voice caressed every syllable of Wolfram's surname. "Would you honor me with a dance?"
This was the first time he had seen Yuuri this close and he was struck again but how much Yuuri looked just like his Maou form, maybe slightly softer features. Yuuri exuded the underlying power of his other self, but softened with his natural charm. Dark eyebrows and thick lashes framed even darker eyes that sparkled in the chandelier light as they waited expectantly for Wolfram's reply. Full, pink lips stayed in an inviting smile as Wolfram forgot his words.
"My turn already?" Wolfram almost slapped himself for saying something so vapid. Clearly, the alcohol was starting to kick in.
Yuuri tilted his head to one side, looking slightly amused. "Well, you are the last one."
"Ah well, yes of course," Wolfram awkwardly looked for a place to set his wineglass down and, finding nowhere nearby, shoved it at a very entertained Murata. "Can you hold this, please?"
"It would be my pleasure," Murata grinned as he took the glass.
Returning to the still outstretched hand, Wolfram gave a slight bow before taking it. "I would be honored to dance with you, your Majesty."
"Excellent," Yuuri smiled and led Wolfram out onto the floor. The other dancers parted for the king and all watched closely as the king took his ex-fiancé's hands for a waltz.
Wolfram felt every gaze on them as Yuuri led them through some simple steps and then they were circling across the floor. He could hear the other guests' whispers, but the heat and smell of cologne radiating off Yuuri overwhelmed their shallow gossip. Wolfram's breath hitched when Yuuri's arm encircled his waist and pulled him closer. He could hear Yuuri's rhythmic breathing as they danced to the soft music.
Feelings he wished long dead resurfaced with a vengeance as Wolfram took in Yuuri's handsome face. It was as if he hadn't left. The love and desire he tried to kill years ago rang in his ears and drowning out the music and sounds of the party, aided by the wine-induced buzz he was now feeling.
Yuuri, for his part, stayed quiet and occasionally glancing around to make sure they didn't hit another couple – or maybe he was nervous as well? Wolfram couldn't really tell. Yuuri had apparently learned how to make a good poker face from Gwendal. He kept his expression warm and neutral as he led them along.
Wolfram couldn't take it. They had to talk somehow to dissipate the awkward silence. "How are you?"
Yuuri almost looked surprised that Wolfram would talk first, but he quickly recovered and smiled graciously. "I'm well. How are you? It's been a really long time. What have you been up to?"
Wolfram talked about what he had been doing to keep himself occupied during the last four years. Yuuri politely nodded and asked questions when appropriate. Neither one of them was willing to acknowledge the tension that was continuing to grow between them as their dance went on.
"Are you nervous about the game?" Wolfram asked suddenly during an awkward pause in their small talk.
Yuuri gave a half shrug. "A little. But I'm well aware with what it means and what will happen."
This genuinely amazed Wolfram. "I didn't think you would agree to such a thing, knowing that outcome."
Yuuri gave a short laugh. "Neither did I. But there's nothing to worry about. It's just one night."
"You realize you won't just be talking?" Wolfram pointed out boldly. He had to be sure Yuuri knew what he was getting into.
Yuuri laughed. "Yeah, I know. I'm not a dumb kid anymore." Wolfram stiffened when Yuuri's arm around his waist tightened and pulled him flush against Yuuri's chest. He froze when Yuuri's expression became hooded and a sly twinkle appeared in his eye. He could feel Yuuri's heat through their clothes and he felt Yuuri's chest rise and fall against his own with each breath. An unwanted tingle coursed through his body when Yuuri leaned in close until their breaths mingled.
"Are you nervous?" Yuuri's voice was husky, throwing the confused demon completely off his game – not that he had any to being with.
"No," Wolfram said stubbornly, though Yuuri's proximity was intoxicating. "I'm well aware of the game. I doubt I'll win though."
"Don't be so certain," Yuuri whispered smoothly, his breath tickled Wolfram's face. "You never know."
Yuuri's hand on Wolfram's hip slowly slid down his side, caressing his hip and then his thigh. His fingers left warm trails in their wake that awakened the nerves underneath Wolfram's skin and made them tingle in a most traitorously pleasurable way.
Wolfram's heart sped up. Yuuri was close enough to kiss. His black eyes captured Wolfram's green ones. Stormy darkness compelled Wolfram to lean in and close the gap. He pursed his lips to fight the impulse but kept his gaze locked with the king's. Those dark eyes bade him, seduction hiding behind feigned innocence and etiquette. Wolfram knew better…and so did Yuuri apparently. Yuuri let his hand drag back up to its proper place at Wolfram's side, though not before skimming over Wolfram's own bottom. If it were anyone else, Wolfram would have been insulted at such forwardness. But with Yuuri, he was just confused and enticed.
"Much has changed," Yuuri's whisper was low and hypnotic, bringing Wolfram further under the spell and forcing his own emotions and body to betray him.
This wasn't Yuuri. There was no way it could be! The Yuuri he knew would never look at him with come-hither eyes and a tempting smile on his face. The Yuuri he knew would never know a lick about seduction.
But before Wolfram could respond, the music ended and Yuuri pulled away, all signs of flirtation gone and replaced with decorum. "It's time for the big finale, Wolfram," he said, that sexy smirk still in place. "Best of luck."
Yuuri led a silent Wolfram to the edge of the dance floor as servants brought in a large table and punch bowl and set it up on a makeshift platform at the far end of the ballroom. The guests all excitedly gathered around the platform, eager to see this game commence.
Christ appeared beside the table and announced to the guests. "It is time, Lords and Ladies! The king's companion for the evening will be chosen with a game of chance. The rules are simple. There are ten raisins. Nine are dark and one is white. Whoever chooses the white raisin is the winner. If the king is pleased, he accepts the winner by eating the white raisin. The winner will have the honor of being the king's companion for one night."
Christ waited for the eager whispers to die down before continuing. "This is a simple party game meant to excite and intrigue. The king wants it to be light. The party will continue after the game and the king and his companion will spend the rest of the evening together," Gunter paused to look at the crowd pointedly whose whispers had risen to a cacophony as they all contemplated who would be the winner and become the king's lover for the night.
By now, the servants had filled the punch bowl with brandy. Another servant appeared with a jar filled with the raisins. Wolfram couldn't see the white one at all. The servant holding the jar shook it to mix the contents and then carefully cast them into the liquor. The servant stepped aside as yet another servant appeared with a lit candle and skillfully set the surface of the liquid aflame.
The lights in the ballroom were lowered, making the bowl cast a large pool of light from the flames. The guests gathered as close as they dared.
"Will the candidates please approach the platform," Christ called.
One by one, each candidate from the Ten Aristocrats lined up with five on each side of the table while Yuuri moved to stand behind it, the blue flames casting him in an ethereal glow.
"Lady von Grantz," Christ turned to Yuuri's first dance partner. "You may start the game."
Lady Adelaide slowly stepped up to the flaming bowl. She stared nervously at the flames and glanced up at Yuuri, who stood directly on the other side from her. The king gave a reassuring smile.
"The trick is to just dip your hand in and pull it out quickly," he offered politely.
Adelaide nodded and after a moment's hesitation, quickly dipped her hand into the flames and pulled out a raisin. The audience hushed when she slowly opened her hand to reveal a dark raisin.
Adelaide and her entourage gave a collective sigh of disappointment and she quickly moved aside for the next candidate.
One after the other, they each gave it a shot. One after the other, they each picked a dark raisin much to their disappointment and that of the audience, who altered between cheering the candidates on and booing in disappointment when they lost. Wolfram waited nervously for his turn, spending his time watching as Yuuri encouraged and flirted with each candidate, making them laugh and some blush before they tried their hand at winning the king's company for the night.
As each person lost, Wolfram felt a mix of dread and anticipation in his gut. Each time a person lost, they would drop the raisin back into the bowl, making the game equally difficult for all. His rational mind tried to argue that his chances of winning were slim even if they continued to take multiple turns. And besides, what would he do if he won? Surely he and Yuuri wouldn't spend the night embroiled in passion. It would probably just a long awkward silence. So he told himself he didn't want to win.
And yet, to his dismay there was a weak yet vocal part of him that wanted to win. A part made up of the desire he still harbored for the king that had revived in the past few hours now that it had seen what a beautiful young man Yuuri had become. Salacious images danced across Wolfram's mind and he quickly pushed them away but they were stubborn. They showed him what could be his for the rest of the night, becoming more detailed and heated as he watched Yuuri flirt with the candidates.
His turn was next when the candidate from Christ stuck his hand in and when he saw the dark raisin he gave a dramatic huff that reminded Wolfram of Gunter and dropped the raisin back into the bowl with a pout. The audience gave a reassuring applause and then went silent when they realized it was the dishonored Bielefeld candidate's turn.
The moment had come. "Lord Bielefeld?" Christ called Wolfram over.
Wolfram slowly walked over to the bowl. The audience didn't clap or cheer him on like they did for the others. They were completely silent. He didn't dare look at the other candidates or the crowd that seemed to encroach upon him the closer he got to the bowl and Yuuri. He caught eyes with the king and noted that Yuuri watched him with curiosity…and something else that he couldn't quite pin down. He would say it was desire, but he wouldn't dare let himself think that.
"Good luck," Yuuri whispered, all flirtatiousness gone and left behind contrived neutrality.
Wolfram just nodded as he carefully watched the blue flames on the brandy surface. He wasn't at all bothered by getting burned. A little alcohol flame wouldn't do anything to a seasoned fire wielder. He could almost say he had an unfair advantage as he wouldn't have to avoid being burned.
But lest someone complained, Wolfram decided to just dunk his hand in and be quick about it. Looking into the fire, he rolled up his sleeve and then dipped his hand into the brandy. The flames licked at his arm but he didn't feel it as he felt the wrinkled textures of the raisins beneath his fingers. He felt around for just a moment, chose a raisin, and yanked his hand out.
Yuuri stared at Wolfram's closed fist. Everyone around them held their breath. Wolfram could feel the raisin in his palm squeezed between his curled fingers. He almost didn't want to open his hand and yet, Yuuri's captivated stare bade him to see…just to see.
He slowly opened his hand. Both he and Yuuri leaned in to see the outcome.
It was too perfect. It was just his luck. Right there, siting innocently in his hand was the white raisin. The crowd gasped and then applauded the winner. The candidates looked on in disappointment.
Wolfram just stared at it. Was this seriously happening?
Wolfram broke out of his trance when another hand took his own. He watched in a trance as his open hand was brought up to Yuuri's waiting mouth. A pink tongue poked out between full lips and curled around the brandy-soaked raisin, deftly licking it up into the king's mouth as soft lips kissed Wolfram's palm.
Wolfram held back a gasp. The feel of Yuuri's lips and tongue on his palm went up his arm and straight to his libido. Yuuri's mouth against his sensitive palm felt deliciously torturous. When Yuuri looked up, the older man was caught in the sensuous look as Yuuri darted his tongue out again to lick up little droplets of brandy from his hand. Yuuri held Wolfram's gaze as he teased calloused skin with his tongue, taking great care to make sure that not a single drop was left of the brandy. Wolfram was mesmerized by the sensual act. He didn't realize that they were still being watched by an equally entranced audience.
Yuuri straightened, but not before letting his tongue drag along Wolfram's palm and finger tips, stopping to suck his middle finger on the way before standing up, looking at Wolfram through shaggy bangs. Wolfram just stared open-mouthed and frustratingly aroused.
"We have a winner!" Wolfram heard Christ announce to an astonished crowd. "The king has chosen Lord Bielefeld to be his companion!"
The guests didn't bother to hide their astonishment and for some, their disgust. It didn't make sense for Yuuri to choose his ex-fiancé. It was too flawless in execution. Surely the game had been rigged, but how? They continued to discuss and conspire as Yuuri took Wolfram's hand again and led him to face the crowd and then lead him back onto the dance floor to continue the festivities.
Wolfram barely registered what was going on. All he could think about was the feel of Yuuri's lips on his hand and how he wanted to feel it again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * E * * * * * * * * * * * *
The party ended way before Wolfram anticipated. Really, he spent the evening blindly following Yuuri and engaging in mindless chatter as they danced, talked, and drank with the guests well into the night.
He didn't realize how late it was until the toll of the clock tower signaled that it was midnight. It was time to join the king in his private rooms. Wolfram was led away by a small army of servants, who brought him to the baths and helped him prepare for the night. He was scrubbed head to toe, rubbed with luxurious scented oils, and then dressed in a silken robe and loose trousers before being led to the king's bedroom. Wolfram noted that Yuuri wasn't there yet and sat down in a nearby armchair to wait.
His mind was in chaos. Inside his head, several voices argued back and forth as to what he should do. The part of him that still desired Yuuri had grown in strength since the game and was now demanding that he stay. This could be his chance! Did he not want to experience what it would be like to have Yuuri as his lover? Even just once? He was disgusted to admit that he had fantasized about returning to Blood Pledge and winning back Yuuri or Yuuri coming to him and begging him to return to his side where he belonged. His fantasies always ended in a night of passion where he would feel Yuuri with every inch of his body and join him as he had wanted since the moment he first met the young monarch.
The other part, the rational and bitter part, said that he was a stupid self-abuser. His fantasies were just fantasies. He was only causing himself more pain. Coming here was a mistake. He should just leave as quietly as possible to go home to Bielefeld and never return. Yuuri and the love Wolfram had for him were a disease, and an addiction that Wolfram had to escape.
But what would it hurt? He would be hard pressed to say that Yuuri hadn't regarded him with desire. His husky voice, seductive smile, and erotic touches gave it away. Wolfram had seen that before in other men who sought his affection. There was no mistake.
Wolfram shook his head. He was clearly deluding himself. He was projecting his own desires onto Yuuri. He was mistaking playfulness with seduction and friendliness with desire. Yuuri probably thought it was all a joke. He had never taken Shin Makoku's customs and traditions seriously before, why would he now? That whole display was probably just a ruse.
But Yuuri wouldn't go that far, would he? He practically made out with Wolfram's brandy-covered hand in front of an entire crowd and took great care to make sure that Wolfram watched him. That wasn't simply going along with tradition. There was purpose in the way that tongue traced the creases of his palm and licked his skin clean. It was a promise of what could come.
Much has changed. Yuuri's words echoed in his head. Yes, much had changed. It was more than just adulthood and maturation. Yuuri had changed, but in a way that both intrigued and frightened the long-suffering ex-prince. He thought himself free from his obsession but it was clear that Yuuri's grip on him hadn't weakened as much as he once thought – or hoped.
Wolfram heard the door open and he immediately stood, his inner turmoil set aside for this new predicament. Yuuri casually walked into the room. The young king was now dressed in a very loose shirt that was unbuttoned down to his waist that showed off more of his toned chest. When he came closer to Wolfram, the demon noted the small patch of dark hair on his chest that added another level of masculine sensuality that reminded Wolfram yet again that this Yuuri was different from the one he remembered.
Yuuri oozed sensuality, from his exposed chest, tight-as-skin silk leggings, loose tendrils of hair, bare feet to his piercing black eyes. Yuuri looked to Wolfram liked an incubus come to steal his life force after ravaging him.
"Wolf," Yuuri smiled at him. Wolfram had forgotten Yuuri's nickname for him. No one called him that except the king.
"Your Majesty," Wolfram said quietly, reverting back to etiquette.
Yuuri gave a small chuckle. "We're behind closed doors. You can call me Yuuri, okay?"
"Yuuri," Wolfram acquiesced. It felt good to say Yuuri's name openly.
Yuuri was quiet for a moment and then spoke up. "I'm….really happy that you came…"
It was different to actually hear Yuuri say it rather than someone tell him he said it. "You are?"
Yuuri nodded. "Yeah….It's been a long time. It's not the same without you here."
"I've thought of you as well," Wolfram said before he could stop himself, looking away from Yuuri and into the fireplace. The flames cast the room into an orange glow and Wolfram felt the heat rise between him and the king.
Yuuri looked at him curiously. "Is there something wrong?"
Wolfram cursed himself. "No, nothing's wrong."
"It doesn't seem so," Yuuri pressed. "You've been staring at the fire a lot. Am I that boring?"
"No!" Wolfram said a little quicker than he meant to. "It's just….it's been so long."
Yuuri sat back with a knowing smile. "Yes, it has. I have to admit, it feels bizarre to be talking to you in person after all these years."
Wolfram felt a pang of guilt again. "I know…"
"I've missed you…"
Yuuri's calm admission struck Wolfram. "You did?"
Yuuri looked away into the fire, momentarily reminding Wolfram of the shy boy from years ago. "Very much. I wanted to…..reach out to you, but the timing was never right."
Wolfram looked down. Yes, the ramifications of his departure had made contact with Yuuri difficult, if not outright impossible, simply for the fact that they had inadvertently become political rivals. Those that supported Wolfram were vocal about their mistrust of the half-breed king. Those that supported Yuuri were quick to label Wolfram and his family as potential traitors. For either of them to try speaking to each other would have caused unneeded tension from Yuuri's supporters and Wolfram's own – though he never asked for their support.
"But, I almost did and I always wanted to," Yuuri added. "If it weren't for other things…"
But Yuuri wasn't the kind of person to let such things stop him. "Why didn't you do so anyway? You were never one to allow politics to influence you."
He didn't mean to come across as accusatory at Yuuri's actions, but it was unlike him to just accede to anyone.
If Wolfram's question offended Yuuri in anyway, he didn't let on. "I almost did," he replied after a long pause. "But the situation was too precarious to be impulsive….And I understood why you left."
Wolfram was other shocked and tentatively relieved. So much of his time had been spent worrying and fearing that Yuuri's lack of action in the face of such a dramatic event was a sign that the king was truly angered at Wolfram's abandonment or worse - that he never really cared at all.
"Yuuri, the engagement…."
"Was an accident," Yuuri interjected, fixing Wolfram with a mysterious expression that left him quiet. "I knew that, you knew that. Everyone knew that. However, it was still an engagement that was never properly addressed and we suffered for it. You suffered for it."
Yuuri reached out to take Wolfram's limp hand and held it, staring at the other man's fingers laid across his own. "I didn't realize how much… until you left."
Wolfram watched his hand in Yuuri's. He had given up or lost everything. His career, his dignity, his status, - all for Yuuri's sake. Rationale would say he should feel resentment, but whatever resentment he felt was killed out by the sense of loss he felt at no longer being at Yuuri's side and by the want he felt for the young man before him.
Yuuri stepped closer to Wolfram. He could smell that cologne on Yuuri, duller now that he had changed clothes. He could feel the heat from Yuuri's body emanating from him as he came within inches of Wolfram, who just continued to stare dumbly at the slowly growing smirk that formed on Yuuri's face.
"You haven't changed one bit, you know?" Yuuri said. "You look just the way I always remembered you."
"You've certainly changed," Wolfram replied.
Yuuri looked genuinely curious. "Really? How so?" Yuuri reached out to trace Wolfram's arm with his hand, leaving tingles in his wake.
"Everything…." Wolfram could only mutter that single word.
Yuuri gave a soft laugh at that and a knowing nod. "Yes….a lot has happened in four years. I'm not an awkward kid anymore."
"I can see," Wolfram said dreamily, looking over Yuuri's form that oozed sensuality. The room suddenly felt warmer and he could feel the thickness of the air between them. "You've….changed….I feel like I've missed out."
Yuuri was so close, Wolfram could feel his breath on him. They were just short of touching. Despite himself, Wolfram's eyes fell to Yuuri's lips and watched as they pulled into a sexy smile. Wolfram felt his own mind and body betray him as Yuuri pinned him right where he wanted him with just the darkness of his eyes and Wolfram's own longing.
This grown Yuuri….handsome Yuuri…dangerous Yuuri – placed his hands on Wolfram's waist and pulled him flush against him. Wolfram instinctively placed his hands on Yuuri's chest, feeling the pulse beneath s a well-shaped chest. A stray finger felt the exposed skin of Yuuri's chest and Wolfram dreamily noted how soft it felt. What was wrong with him?
"Much has changed…." Yuuri whispered before finally closing the distance.
Wolfram's faint gasp was swallowed by Yuuri's kiss. It was gentle and searching. Yuuri quietly asked for Wolfram's consent with just the gentle pressing of their mouths together. Whatever dissent he might have felt weakened as he opened himself further to Yuuri's embrace. Encouraged, Yuuri tightened his hold on Wolfram and deepened the kiss and Wolfram wrapped his arms around Yuuri's neck.
"I shouldn't do this…" Wolfram whispered when Yuuri finally gave him a chance to breathe.
Yuuri simply smiled, not letting go of Wolfram. "And why not?"
"I've tried for so long to let you go," Wolfram confessed, hating his own weakness but being unable to do anything about it. "I had to leave. It was for your sake and mine. I wanted you more than anything else, but I could never have you. I was going insane….but-"
Wolfram's tangent was cut off by Yuuri's kiss. The long-suffering demon prince's thoughts were momentarily jumbled by the caress. He was leaning against Yuuri now. His entire being was in conflict with itself. He couldn't stand it. He had missed Yuuri so much. He still loved him as intensely as he had before. His rational mind screamed at him that this was wrong. He was only torturing himself. Yuuri was a heartless bastard who only wanted to dangle that forbidden fruit in front of him, to use his own feelings to torment him – as he always had.
"Yuuri, stop!" Wolfram protested, pulling his face away from Yuuri's.
"Why?" Yuuri countered, all flirtatiousness gone and replaced by solemnity.
"Stop doing this to me," Wolfram whimpered, gripping at the folds of Yuuri's shirt. Strangely, he found comfort in Yuuri's unwavering embrace. It gave him a foundation to hold on to as he tried to quiet his raving thoughts.
"You still love me," Yuuri stated suddenly. Wolfram looked up at him in surprise.
Yuuri gently tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind Wolfram's ear, fixing the other man with an all-knowing gaze that burrowed deep into Wolfram's already weakened psyche.
"You always have," Yuuri continued, cupping Wolfram's cheek in his hand. "You lied awake at night, trying to convince yourself that it never mattered. You want to think that it was just a teenage crush, that was nothing but a shallow fixation that you would eventually get over. You even tried to speed up the process by taking on one lover after the next. But the more you try, the worse it gets. I know…. It's been the same for me too."
The same? "How would you know this?" It was impossible. They hadn't spoken for years. How could Yuuri so confidently describe his feelings when they had only just reunited?
Instead of answering, Yuuri slowly guided Wolfram backwards. The ex-prince allowed himself to be led until he felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the huge bed. He didn't even think to protest or say anything as his mind went blank under the intensity of Yuuri's unwavering gaze. He didn't even think to protest when Yuuri made him plop onto the bed and lean back until he was situated on a luxurious duvet as Yuuri crawled over him, trapping him.
The desire and yearning inside him reawakened with a strength that Wolfram hadn't felt before and his resolve quickly died. He then realized that what little resolve he thought he had upon arriving at the castle had never existed.
"I know you better than you think, Wolfram von Bielefeld," Yuuri whispered against the pulse in Wolfram's neck, sending a shiver down the other man. "I know what you want. And I want to give it to you. I want to give you everything you deserve."
"You exist just to torture me…" Wolfram whispered, shivering as Yuuri's lips grazed the sensitive skin of his throat.
He felt Yuuri grin against his skin and then the king pulled away to look him in the eye. "I could say the same for you, Wolf…"
Yuuri brazenly began to pull apart Wolfram's thin robe, exposing his skin inch by inch. Wolfram bit the inside of his lip when calloused fingertip ghosted over pert nipples. He could feel the strength of Yuuri's muscles as the king straddled him between toned thighs as he sat up straight to take in the sight of Wolfram laid bare before him. Wolfram couldn't move. His mind was too far gone in alcohol and desire to think straight. The last of his rational mind died when Yuuri opened his own shirt and let the fabric slide down his arms and to the floor. Wolfram's mouth watered at the sight of defined abs and a strong chest with dark nipples proudly erect in the firelight. He wanted to trace his fingers over the chiseled muscle, but he was rendered motionless as this deadly incubus trapped him under his spell completely.
"When you left, I wanted you back so badly it hurt," Yuuri's voice was low, husky, and hypnotic. "I missed your nagging, your temper, - I even missed you sleeping at my side."
Wolfram gasped when Yuuri's hands ran down his torso, leaving heated trails in their wake. Yuuri's voice resonated through Wolfram's intoxicated mind. "Before long, I was desiring you. No man or woman could satisfy me. Even if we never touched. I already knew there'd be no comparison."
"None," Wolfram breathed. Yuuri's words echoed his own feelings. His desire alone for the king dampened whatever meaningful enjoyment he could get out of his off-hand lovers. Though he and Yuuri never kissed, much less made love, his love and lust for the king negated realism.
"I've waited for this moment," Yuuri's low growl betrayed his own growing arousal. The king leaned over to all fours, looming over Wolfram. He leaned down until their foreheads touched, Yuuri's hair making a curtain around them, trapping them in the moment. "I can't let it go. I can't let you go…"
"Damn you!" Wolfram hissed as his arms encircled Yuuri's shoulders. The king took the words right out of his mouth.
Yuuri gave Wolfram an absolutely devilish grin. "Damn it all…" he conceded and claimed Wolfram's mouth.
The kiss sucked the very air from Wolfram's lungs. Yuuri was unrelenting. Their kiss was far from gentle. It was fierce and embodied the forbidden desire they had felt for years for one another. Wolfram's fingers clawed at Yuuri's shoulders, bringing the king closer to him, nearly melding them together as tongues and teeth fought to claim was rightfully theirs all along.
A strong hand snaked behind Wolfram's head, tangling in his hair and roughly yanking them apart and leaving Wolfram's throat vulnerable to sharp teeth. The blonde man gasped when Yuuri nipped at his skin and sucked the minute pain away. Wolfram couldn't stop the traitorous moan that escaped when Yuuri bit down onto his Adam's apple. His moan was cut off when Yuuri moved up to recapture already swollen lips.
Yuuri's tongue entangled itself with Wolfram's, glancing and gliding over the ridges inside the ex-prince's mouth. While his tongue swallowed every gasp and moan, his hands traveled along Wolfram's sides over heated skin. Wolfram arched his back to bring himself closer to Yuuri's touch. His robe was completely yanked off of him and thrown to the floor to join Yuuri's.
Yuuri paused to admire Wolfram. "You intoxicate me, Lord Bielefeld…"
"Your Majesty…" Wolfram breathed, attempting to be coy, and his nerves quickly being replaced by lust-fueled confidence. Yuuri's look of lust mixed with adulation gave Wolfram a boost of pride in that he could have such an effect on his ex-fiancé even after so long.
"Give yourself to me. Let me give you the pleasure you deserve," Yuuri ordered heatedly, before crashing his lips into Wolfram's once more.
Wolfram grabbed the roots of Yuuri's hair, pulling him in with his mouth. He needed to feel Yuuri's flesh against his own. Long legs drew up and wrapped around a slim waist, crashing bare chests together. Lips never parting, Wolfram grabbed Yuuri and flipped them both over, switching control.
Hardness. Heat. A telltale lump between both their legs. Wolfram grinded down on Yuuri's clothed erection. Both of them moaned in unison as their arousals rubbed against each other, dampening the thin cloth between them. Wolfram sat up to pull Yuuri's waistband down. With a slight smile, Yuuri helpfully lifted his hips to let the waistband slide down. He watched Wolfram carefully, anticipating what was next.
Wolfram wrapped his hand around Yuuri's erection. It felt heavy and solid in his grip. Little pearls of liquid leaked out of the tip when he slowly began to pump it with his hand. Yuuri's shaft and Wolfram's hand were soon covered in the slippery pre-cum. Yuuri's breath hitched when his thumb ghosted over the tip to coax more out. Yuuri laid before him, aroused and desiring only him, eyes closed, savoring Wolfram's touch. How many times had he imagined this?
Yuuri's fingers were cupping his still-covered dick. They gave it a gentle squeeze and Wolfram moaned at the pressure. "Take it off," Yuuri ordered as he reached over to remove it himself as Wolfram was too caught up in the sensation to move quickly enough for the king's liking. The air felt cool on Wolfram's now exposed erection. Yuuri grabbed it, mirroring Wolfram, and stroked it up and down, feeling the tight ridges along the shaft.
Wolfram lost his concentration, bracing himself against Yuuri's toned chest as Yuuri expertly stroked him until he was ready to burst, leaking onto Yuuri's fingers as they gripped and stroked hot flesh. Wolfram felt his thighs begin to tremble when another hand joined the other to cup and squeeze his sac. Wolfram's head fell back as he savored Yuuri's touched, eyes fluttering and hands gripping Yuuri's torso, trying to hold onto reality.
Wolfram felt the bed shift, half-opened eyes watched Yuuri slowly sit up until Wolfram straddled his lap, not once faltering in his ministrations. Yuuri leaned in to capture another kiss, this one gentler – distracting. It eased Wolfram into submission. Yuuri kept leaning until Wolfram was arching backwards. The ex-prince's back hit the bed and his head hung over the mattress. Wolfram was now looking at the fireplace upside down and Yuuri was out of sight, he could only feel Yuuri shift his position and spread Wolfram's legs far apart. Wolfram's legs trembled when Yuuri left trails of nimble bites along his inner thighs, gradually working their way to Wolfram's groin where his arousal twitched in anticipation as Yuuri's cool breath drew near.
Wolfram gripped the edges of the mattress, still watching the inverted flames of the fireplace, the dizziness only adding to the sensation, placing him under hypnosis. He willingly submitted when a hot, wet mouth engulfed him with powerful sucks. Yuuri's lips wrapped around his base, tongue mimicking the earlier movements of his fingers, but with more suppleness. Yuuri set a rhythm, moving up and down, gradually increasing speed and suction. Wolfram began to moan and squirm, feeling every jolt of pleasure travel through his body, mixing with his fragile mind hanging upside down, which left him euphorically disoriented.
"Y-Yuuri!" he somehow managed to choke when Yuuri added hums that vibrated up Wolfram's shaft. He groaned when Yuuri increased speed, devouring him like a starved man, sucking the salty, clear liquid. Wolfram let go of the bed to bury one hand in Yuuri's hair, forcing himself deeper down Yuuri's throat.
Suddenly, Yuuri pulled away with an audible pop and Wolfram immediately missed the wet heat. Yuuri roughly flipped Wolfram over, making him kneel on all fours. The sudden movement left Wolfram incredibly light-headed, which added to his exhilaration. He couldn't form a coherent thought, his sense were reduced to Yuuri's touch. He shamelessly arched his back, presenting himself to Yuuri like a bitch in heat. Yuuri eagerly obliged, spreading firm mounds part to reveal that tight bud. The demon swore when Yuuri's talented tongue inserted itself into his opening, twisting and turning inside him. Nails dug into soft skin to keep the squirming prince in place while Yuuri prepared him.
Wolfram hardly noticed the soft pop of a cork. He barely noticed Yuuri expertly using one hand to uncork the bottle of oil and coat his fingers. He didn't even notice when the bottle was carelessly thrown aside with a clank. He only noticed when two fingers prodded at his most private part. He gasped and then spread his legs wider, welcoming the intrusion.
"That's it, Wolf," Yuuri whispered roughly behind him. "Open yourself to me." Yuuri curved his fingers inside Wolfram a certain way and the blonde convulsed in raw pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream when Yuuri mercilessly grinded into that nerve-bundle.
"Wanted…..so long…" Wolfram said breathlessly.
"So long," Yuuri echoed, kissing the small of Wolfram's back. "Only you..."
To be taken like this. To submit to Yuuri like this in ways he had only thought to be imaginary. Other fantasies streamed across his vision, aided by Yuuri adding another finger and then another, showing Wolfram what he could have. Positions, places, fetishes – would Yuuri let Wolfram dominate him? Take him the way he was being taken now? It went against social norm. A lower noble like him could never usurp the king in such away, but that's what made it so tantalizing. To have Yuuri submit to him the way he submitted, sounded so delicious. The things he could show Yuuri. He didn't want to be just a simple submissive. He could give Yuuri as much pleasure as the king was giving him now.
Yuuri suddenly removed his fingers. Wolfram almost protested at the loss until something thicker prodded at his entrance. He trembled at the anticipation of being joined to his estranged love in the most intimate way possible. He felt the heat from Yuuri when the king leaned over flush against his back, grasping his waist, gently positioning himself, him and his cock at Wolfram's entrance asking for permission.
"Tell me what you want," Yuuri whispered into Wolfram's ear, the brush of his lips making Wolfram shudder. "Tell me what you want from me."
What he wanted. He had wanted so much. But nothing more than Yuuri's desire…and his love. So many years spent repressing old feelings, denying himself the ability to wish or dream of that one moment when Yuuri would claim him for his own, of that one moment when Wolfram could say Yuuri was his and no one could argue. To take Yuuri in….
"I want you," Wolfram admitted to himself as much as Yuuri. "Please…"
He was rewarded with a gentle nuzzle followed by a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Anything..."
Yuuri's initial gentleness gave way to roughness fueled by desire. Wolfram gasped when Yuuri's impaled him completely in one swipe. He was only given a moment's quiet before Yuuri pulled back and slammed into him again. Not wasting another moment, Yuuri set a steady pace that left Wolfram rocking and moaning eagerly.
Feeling Yuuri inside him was amazing. Yuuri's hands on his waist, digging in almost painfully, was amazing. The sound of Yuuri's rhythmic grunts and appreciative moans were amazing. The feel of his thick, hot cock moving in and out without falter, was incredibly amazing. When Yuuri's tip hit that special spot inside him, Wolfram lost all ability to think. He clenched his muscles and arched his back, pressing his bottom into Yuuri, urging him deeper and deeper.
"So breathtaking," Yuuri panted behind him. "My Wolfram."
His Wolfram. In the throes of passion, Yuuri had finally claimed him. Finally anointed as Yuuri's. No longer just an accidental fiancé or inadvertent rival, he was Yuuri's.
Yuuri was his. "My Yuuri…" he ventured, needing to hear more.
Yuuri obliged. Wrapping his arms fully around Wolfram's torso, he breathed. "Yours. Always your Yuuri."
Those words gave Wolfram almost as much elation as feeling Yuuri inside him. Without hesitation, Yuuri continued to drive himself deep into Wolfram, sending them both closer and closer to the edge.
The steady rhythm set by Yuuri quickly gave way to hectic rutting. Yuuri sat back on his heels, pulling Wolfram to sit upright in his lap and driving him even deeper onto Yuuri's cock and hitting that nerve ending full force. Nails digging painfully into his sides, adding delicious pain that accentuated the pleasure, Yuuri slammed Wolfram into him over and over again. Wolfram drove him on with loud moans and pitched screams, urging the king to ruin him. He needed to feel Yuuri's unbridled lust the same way he had felt his for too long – far too long.
"Keep going!" He gasped the millisecond he felt Yuuri falter. "Don't stop! I need more!"
"Wolfram!" Yuuri growled, the blonde's words urging him on and breaking what little control he must have had left.
Wolfram gripped the sheets, bracing himself against Yuuri's violent thrusts that rattled to his core. The burning strain in his legs and back coupled with the bursts of sheer pleasured frenzy, rendered him insane. Pain. Pleasure. Heat. Growls. Breaths. Moans. Yuuri's words of desire. His existence broiled down to that one moment in Yuuri's embrace. The center of his king's attention and desire.
He couldn't hold on much longer. He could feel his end building a knot inside him. He was seeing stars.
"Yuuri!" he tried to warn him. He was giving out.
"Let it go," Yuuri hissed, impossibly thrusting harder and deeper to bring Wolfram to that edge. "Give in."
"I-I!" Wolfram gasped, coming to that very edge, just needing that one last push.
Sensing his need, Yuuri wrapped a hand around Wolfram's since-neglected cock and roughly stroked it in time with each forceful thrust.
That was all it took. Wolfram arched back in a silent scream, eyes clenched shut as his climax tore through him. His vision went blank and he fell back against Yuuri, who continued to thrust. His member coated Yuuri's waiting hand with spurts of white liquid.
"Damn! Wolf!" He felt Yuuri reach his end as well, feeling his insides coated as Yuuri swore under his breath and moaned. Wolfram squeezed, demanding every last drop, reveling Yuuri's peak. Yuuri continued to hump him as the waves of pleasure swept over them, savoring every last sensation.
Once his euphoria subsided, Wolfram shuddered as his body finally gave out. Yuuri caught his slumping form, whispering sweet nothings and total filth as he held the whimpering demon. Wolfram sighed when Yuuri trailed little kisses along his sweat-soaked shoulder and neck and nipped at his earlobe. He giggled tiredly. It tickled.
Wolfram felt Yuuri soften, still inside him but he was in no hurry to part. Neither was Yuuri, who managed to shift them until he was sitting comfortably in Yuuri's lap and they leaned against the headboard. Yuuri lazily ran his hands over Wolfram's body, paying special attention to swollen nipples and spent cock. They sat in silence, simply enjoying the afterglow and being in each other's presence after so long.
"I've missed you so much, Wolfram," Yuuri's barely audible voice broke the heavy silence. "So much…"
Yuuri hugged Wolfram close. The demon reached up to hold Yuuri's arms that enclosed him almost desperately. "I missed you too."
"When I knew you were coming. I wanted so badly for you to win that stupid game," Yuuri chuckled softly.
"I didn't want to win, at first," Wolfram admitted, absently playing with Yuuri's fingers still clutched around him. "I didn't think you'd ever want me."
"I figured you'd think that," Yuuri acknowledged. "I don't blame you…things…didn't go as wanted."
Wolfram shook his head.
"I didn't realize until you were gone how much I wanted you or needed you," Yuuri nuzzled Wolfram's hair. "I couldn't do anything."
"Oh, Yuuri," Wolfram sighed, understanding all too well what he meant.
"Don't leave again," Yuuri hugged Wolfram tighter. "I know I'm just a selfish wimp…but I have to ask."
Wolfram couldn't help but smile despite himself. "As long as you acknowledge that…"
Yuuri gave a soft chuckle, but then became serious again. "Please stay…"
"Yes…" Wolfram breathed, telling the bitter voice inside to shut the hell up. He had wanted to hear those words for so long. He wasn't going to ruin them with his own hesitation. He finally had what he always wanted. It would be stupid to say no.
Feeling tired, Wolfram sank into Yuuri's chest as the king showered him with more kisses.
"My Wolfram…"
Sleep overtook him. "My Yuuri…."
I love you…
* * * * * * * * * * * * E * * * * * * * * * * * *
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the arms of his love, but in his own bed back at his family lands.
Confused only for a second, Wolfram groaned loudly in frustration and shoved the heels of his palms into teary eyes, trying to push that cursed dream back inti his psyche where it belonged but refused to stay.
"Damn it!" He growled, blinking owlishly at the bright sunlight that peeked through the curtains. "Stupid! Stupid!"
He continued to grumble and swear, sitting up and staring around his room as images of that dream slowly faded. He ran his hand through messy hair, breathing deeply to calm himself.
That was more real than all the other times. None had ever been so lucid and tangible. No day dream or nighttime fantasy that he had created over the years could match to that one. He could still feel everything. Every touch and kiss. He could still hear every sweet-nothing and lustful word. He could feel every ounce of love and desire for that one man. It was too real.
He glanced to his side. No one-time bedmate to distract him this time. He was all alone in his huge bed with only unfulfilled desires and unrequited affection.
Wolfram frowned at himself in disgust. "I used to have some pride…"
A sharp knock on the door alerted Wolfram. "What is it?" he barked.
"Alice, your highness," said the undisturbed maid, long-used to her young master's morning grouchiness. "It is past breakfast. I've been sent by Lord Bielefeld to bring you food and a special invitation."
That piqued his interest. "Come in, then!"
Alice opened the door and carried in the silver tray with expertise. She set down the food on a nearby table to curtsy and then handed the still-in-bed Wolfram a neatly folded letter.
"It's an invitation?" he asked, taking the letter from her."
"The End of Summer Ball," she explained. "His Highness, Lord Bielefeld, has required you to attend."
Wolfram stared blankly at the invitation for a moment and said wryly. "Much has changed..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * E * * * * * * * * * * * *
Eidolon:
(definition)
An apparition; phantom.
An ideal; an idealized person or image.
Dream; fantasy; mirage; illusion
Damn it! EB, why you gotta use a stupid story trope like that?
Because the fic is named for a fancy word for "dream"!
Also, please take this one-shot as an apology gift for not updating Memories of Sand or Syrena in way too long! Forgive me! Jack off to this in the meantime. I purposefully gave you lots of material to work with!
You all should be noticing a pattern by now: Long dry-spells between my multi-chaptered fics usually means a PWP one-shot is coming! Lol!
I thought it would be interesting to portray Yuuri in a very different light. This story stemmed from the question: What would Yuuri be like if he embodied the desires/fantasies of those around him, especially Wolfram? What would Wolfram fantasize about with Yuuri?
This question also serves as the premise for an upcoming multi-chapter fic that this very long one-shot is a preview of. This plot device has been floating in my head for months – I would even say it was one of the earlier story concepts I created for KKM.
A special thank you to the new Yanni album Sensuous Chill. Listen to that if you want inspiration for romantic erotica…or make a baby. It helped me write this fan fic. Lol.
Thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW. It's always a treat to hear from you all!
Love, EB