author: FurryGreen

rating: Teen Adult-ish

disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maoh. There's that. I always give a blanket warning that most, if not all, of my characters are OOC. Don't say I didn't warn you. And, yes yes, I know my writing has all the gusto of a fifth grader. I apologize if this story is murky and confusing. What can I say? I'm just a hack. ''

Special Note: The section between the two +++'s is memories. eg +++ memory +++

Wicked Game

"What a wicked game you play

To make me feel this way

What a wicked thing to do

To let me dream of you"

The clock chimed nine and Yuuri sighed. He finished signing the document and set the quill back in its stand. He capped the ink, blew on the document, and blessed this wonderful chair he'd had the for thought to bring back from Earth. The carpenters, for all their wonderous skills, hadn't been able to design a chair that was suitible to be sat in hour after long hour.

His office door was crack just enough to allow him to look outside. People bustled about, some with strange packages and objects, other with flowers. He could hear the excited chatter of his people as they discusses what could happen this holiday. He wished sorely that he could mingle with them, but he couldn't. He had a pile of papers to sign.

The Mid-Summer feast nights are his favorate holiday, including those he'd brung back with him from Earth. It was simply beautiful. Candles, flowers, faery lights, good food, sex; it covered all the bases. The holiday was this country's offical good-bye to Summer.

As such, it was primarily a holiday given over to love and love making. Trial marriages, which lasted only a year and would have to be recommitted six months later at the Mid-Winter festivals, were done in excess. Many children were conceived on this holy day and they were said to contain great magic within them.

That was perhaps the most interesting thing, to his japanese mindset. You can read about free love and hear descriptions from various people who live by it (so they say) but until you're proped down in the middle of the mangle, you can't understand it.

All of the "special children" that are convieced on this day are thought to be the doing of holiday. It wasn't a big suprise if little Billy was born with red hair, even if no one on both sides of the parents families had red hair anywhere.

And so, little 'indiscretions' as his father put it to him the day before his own wedding, tended to be over looked. My beautiful Marie wasn't cheating on me. It was the festival who'd taken her over. She was blessed and was only doing what the fae wanted her to do.

The first time he'd heard this explaination, he'd crowed with laughter. Surely this had to be some kind of joke. Gunters' solume face said it was. Why have a holiday that justified being dishonest and cheating on your mate? It sounded frankly horrible.

Further seduction attempts by Wolfram von Bielfield had cemented his distain for it in his mind.

Of course, years later it had been the same blonde who'd changed this ill opinion of his. He smiled, looked down at the bills on his desk, and sighed. He could afford the simple pleasure of remembering that day. It wouldn't take too long, he thought.

He rested his chin on his hand.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" Yuuri tore his gaze from his wife and rung out a wash cloth in the basin next to the bedside. He folded it and placed it on her forhead. He didn't care much if he missed this holiday. It was just a crush of hot bodies in a hot night. He could do without having to fight people off him.

She grabbed at the hand on her forehead and squeezed. "Don't be silly," she said. "You have to go. You have an obligation. I dare say it'll be more fun then sitting in this room."

He opened his mouth to protest but she pressed the issue. "It's uncomfortable with you looming. I need rest and I can't rest with you fretting above me."

He sighed and racked a hand through his hair, unable to keep the grin off his face. "Okay, okay."

Yuuri decided not to dress in the silly outfit that Gunter provided. He'd avoided it each year, yet it always turned up on his bed. He'd even gone so far as burning the slinky, skin tight thing. It was more like a painted on lacy swim suit with how it clung to his body.

He felt it was a decent sacrifice to listen to Gunter's whining lectures about this new culture of his and how he must try to fit in for a week after then to wear that thing.

The castle grounds were decorated with much gusto and flare. The inside, thankfully, had been left mostly undone (to his unseeing eyes as Gunter said, at least. He aparently didn't appricate all the little details that went on in decorating the inside.) You only had to see the bill to appricate the decorations for all their worth.

Outside was full of people, stands full of venders, lacy, various statues, and candles. Many, many candles. The holiday started at sundown and continued until sun up. It wasn't a horrible long length of time, considering the first day started on the shortest night of the year.

He made it out of the room and the castle with only one attempted jumping by some unknown woman. She pressed her breasts, barely conceiled under the skin-tight something she was wearing and tried to whisper alluringly into his ears. Only, she was much too drunk so she screamed rather then whispered and the smell of the alcohol and her perfume made him sick.

Once outside, he was greeted with much the same. Music was played at stragetic points on the castle grounds (and he assumed even more bands down in the main city). The spot he chose to come out in was bad in the way that it let him hear several bands overlap. The throng of people and the music was enough to make anyones head hurt.

He grabbed a glass of wine from a near by server, drunk it down in two swallows, and then got a second. The alcohol hit his empty stomach almost immediatedly and sent his soring nerves to a gentle, gliding halt. He sighed and purused the gathering.

Magic had been used to send most of the garden's flowers into bloom and still many, many cart loads of flowers had been brought it. They lined the pathways on both sides, all open and in bloom, sending their scent to into a heading contoxtion ripe for this night.

On both sides of him, venders screamed their wares. Three Maoh cookies for one soverne, flowers for your loved one, or try your fate with these pretty gold fish. How many can you catch? Are you smart enough to win this game? Are you man enough to prove you can do this?

The special affects of wine hit him. He stared down at the glass and noticed, for the first time, the herbs that floated on the survice and clung to the glass. He sighed and gave the half drunk glass to a passing waiter, but not before taking a last sip.

Further down the road, he spotted Conrad entertaining some women. Conrad noticed him as well and raised a hand in greeting. Yuuri did the same then hurried down the road. Conrad, himself, nameless girls, possible sex; all possible combinations -- albeit, probably brought on by the wine -- made his head hurt very bad. Some things just didn't belong in the same paragraph.

He paused. What was that? His ears strained. Wait, that had to be Wolfram's laugh. He'd recognize its musical notes anywhere.

He followed the sound, around some turns and corners, until he found Wolfram. He never stopped to even wonder how, exactly, he'd heard him. It was enough just to see him in the moonlight.

Another man, someone Yuuri hadn't seen before, was crowding over him. His index fingers on both hands were tucked under the waist band of his pants, tugging at Wolfram to apparently follow. It angered him and gave him the courage to go up to him and say: "Hey! Wolfram!" His voice was slurred and he felt ashamed for that.

Wolfram's head whipped to his direction. He saw a mixture of annoyance and gratitude play on his face. "Heika," said he, a small smile on his face. He ducked under the strangers arms, pausing to say something. The man didn't look pleased, but Yuuri didn't care.

Wolfram trotted over to him. "What is it that you need, Heika?"

Yuuri wished Wolfram would stop calling him that. It hurt every time. "Jolene kicked me out of the room. You're the first familiar face I've seen," he lied.

He sighed. "Okay," he paused, studying him. "Let's go for a walk then." Wolfram offered his arm, which Yuuri gladly took.

They walked in silence, taking in the night and the events that unfolded around them. When they left that particular path, and he felt Wolfram pull away from him, he started them down the path to the labyrnth. No way was he allowing that stranger stick his fingers down Wolfram's pants.

"Heika," Wolfram said with a slight tang of annoyance. They'd already spent ten minutes in the labrynth. "This isn't how I envisioned spending Mid Summer," he said. "Let me escort you back to the castle..."

"I don't want to go to the castle," he said stubornly.

"Spending my evening /walking/ with the only prude" - Yuuri bristled - "in Shin Madoku isn't what I want."

He allowed Wolfram to stop them and pull them apart. Wolfram walked a few paces away from him, giving Yuuri quite the nice view, and stopped. He paused there, indisivily, before turning around. He was smiling like nothing he'd seen in a long time and he back up until he found a stone pillar cut it half, a perfect perch.

"Unless, of course, you can make it worth my time."

Yuuri smile at the alluring promise in Wolfram's own smile. Maybe it was the wine, he thought. He should probably go check on Jolene... He stumbled over to Wolfram, who had hopped up onto the stone. It made Wolfram just an inch or so higher then himself.

"Yuuri?" The curious, laughing quality of Wolfram's voice set his body aflame. Wolfram framed his face with his hands and laughed. "Okay. One kiss and that's it." His words were slightly slurred and he pressed their lips together in a rather chaste kiss.

Yuuri pulled away confused. "You call that a kiss?" he asked, amusement making him laugh now as well. He captured Wolfram's mouth with his own so fast that he was rewarded with a slight gasp of surprise. Wolfram's mouth was open for the plunder. His tongue dived in and he felt and taste as much as he could in that one breath.

Soon, Wolfram relaxed into his kiss. His hands crept to his hair. He wound those long, thin fingers through his hair in such a way that it was maddening. Jolene had never done that. No one he'd had sex with had ever show that sort of affection.

He broke the kiss to gulp at the hair. Wolfram nuzzled his neck, his whole body panting, and said "Yuuri." To Yuuri heated mind it translated into: "fuck me now!" Okay, who was he to mess with a command like that?

He pushed Wolfram away from him slightly so that he could kiss him again. The third time around was the best of all. The hungry newness of kissing Wolfram was still there but this time it wasn't so urgent. Wolfram's fingers had trailed down from his hair to his neck. They peaked into the collar of his shirt, cool and light. He could imagine how they might feel on his chest, his back, his...

Hiw own fingers worked deftly at untying his silky shirt. He broke the kiss again to smother and tast a trail down the side of his neck. He buried his head in the softness there, enjoying the smell. Roses; he smelled like a valley of roses in bloom on a warm summer day.

Wolfram began to slid off his perch then, leaning his full weight on Yuuri. His leg went around his hips and Yuuri had to push him against the stone seat to keep him in place. His hands were full of Wolfram's ass as he ravished the perfect skin of his chest.

With his senses overloaded, Yuuri's tight grip slipped. It was only an inch, but it was enough to cut Wolfram's arm on the rough stone. They pulled apart, Wolfram muttering soft explicides under his breath.

Yuuri knew at the moment the mood was over for this night at least and he couldn't help up feel bitter about it. "Here," he said gruffly, turning the blonde around so to examine the wound. It was bleeding profusly and he ashamed for his early annoyance.

He put his hand over the wound and a soft glow emintated from his palm. Once he couldn't feel the tall-tell heat that he always associated from wounds, he pulled a handerhif from his pocket and wiped the blood away. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his hand still gripping Wolfram's arm.

Wolfram pulled away. "No," he said shortly. He looked away, as if ready to flee.

Yuuri didn't want him to go yet. He searched for something, anything. "Why don't we get something to eat? Drink?"

Wolfram studied him for several moment before shaking his head. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep," he said, before walking away.

He watched him leave and it was another week before he was able to corner him. "Look Wolfram," he said to the angry blonde, "we need to talk about this!" The sleepless nights were taking their tole on him. And whenever he did manage to sleep, all he dreamed about was Wolfram.

Wolfram tilted his head and smiled ruefully. "There isn't anything to talk about."

He should've expected this response but somehow it caught him off guard. What was he expecting? He'd hardly seen the Prince all week. He didn't want to say the blonde had been avoiding him, it just seemed like he was never at the places their paths usually crossed in the course of a day.

Instead, Yuuri reached for the once injuryed arm and studied it. "Ah, that's good," he said to himself, letting the arm drop. He stared at the fiery blond for a moment before saying, "How can you pretend nothing happened?"

"Nothing did." Wolfram turned away. "It was just a couple kisses..."

"You deny that there was something between us?"

Wolfram turned fierce eyes up to him. "Suddenly, after how many years, there's something between us?" He sneered. "We kissed. That was it."

"Wolfram!" He grabbed his arm to prevent him from storming off. "I'm sorry for the past! I can't change it." He left the arm fall from his hand and turned his back on Wolfram, slighly embaressed. "But I don't want to loose that feeling. I think... I know we should persue it."

Wolfram was quiet for such a long time that Yuuri feared he'd somehow slipped away. When he turned to him, he felt a vague sense of apprehension at the light in his eyes.

"Persue it, huh?" he repeated. He stalked slowly to him, stopping less then an inch away. It took all of Yuuri's willpower not to kiss him. "You want me. Fine. You can have me." He paused. "You can have me when you divorse Jolene and marry me. I refuse to play the role of a whore."

Yuuri froze.

After a moment, a sad smile crept on his face. "See how much you want me? I don't want to discuss this with you again. Ever again." With that, he left.

The memory faded slowly. He returned to the few good minutes in which they had been together. Nothing had happened since then and he seriously doubted anything would happen afterward but it was much more barible then paperwork.

No, he had to focus. He couldn't be distracted by nudy thoughts of Wolfram. He'd never get out of here that way.

He hit his head on the solid oak desk a couple times before resting his forehead against it and groaning. This was Hell and he'd never escape it.

Something clicked and he turned his head up to the door. As if by some sort of magic, Wolfram was there, leaning up against the door with a devilish smile on his face. He made a big show of turning the key in the lock and depositing it in a pocket.

Yuuri blinked at him. He was dreaming. He didn't know how he knew it, but there was no doubt.

"I was worried," Wolfram breathed, looking worried for a moment. His face cleared and he walked over to him. "I'm sorry."

Yuuri mouth went dry and he shook his head. He found his voice had escaped him.

Wolfram walked to him in slow, measured steps. That smile, the innocent guilty one, turned into something much different and much less innocent. Yuuri opened his arms to the blonde and helped him to settle on his lap.

"I've missed you," he murmured against Yuuri's lips. He closed his eyes when Wolfram kissed him. "I was hoping I could convince you to come to bed." He paused to pout. "You work too hard and never spend any time with me..."

Yuuri laughed. It didn't quite come out as such. It was more like a harsh cough. "I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing his shoulder. He pressed his face against the soft curve of his neck. He could smell that faint tinge of wild flowers clinging to his skin. "Are you naked?"

A sudden shyness settled down upon him and he found that he couldn't run his hands under the soft silk robe. He pried his face away from his neck and looked up at Wolfram.

Wolfram blushed prettily. "I'm not that bad..." The smile he gave him made Yuuri feel difference.

It was that pretty, creamy outfit he'd worn that Mid-Summer long ago, minus the pants. He grinned and kissed Wolfram, who felt and tasted as he did then. Maybe the Gods weren't so cruel if they were to give him such a nice dream.

--

Yuuri groaned and peeled his head off the desk. He looked around the office. He was alone, as he should be. Suddenly the Gods didn't seem so wonderful if they'd make him wake up at such a wonderful part in the dream. He stretched his neck until he heard a crack. He repeated this with the rest of his body, leaving a long, leasurious stretch for last. He allowed himself to enjoy this before the self-pity set in.

It was light out and his stomach protested loudly. It was half-past eight the clock said. He stood and, after a moments hesitation, left the office. He could finish them later. It shouldn't take him too long, he told himself.

He closed and locked the office door behind him. Turning towards the dining room, a small something plowed into him with a soft ompth and sniffle.

He gropped the wall for support and having done so, turned and knelt to the thing that tried to topple him. "I'm sorry Chris," he said, tenderly patting the little boy on his head. The boy turned large, wet eyes onto him. He sniffled, caught between wanting to cry but wanting to be a big kid more. "Where does it hurt?"

Chris pointed to his knee. A very faint pink blush spread there. Yuuri kissed it. "There. All better?"

Another sniffle and he nodded. "Doesn't hurt," he said, though his bottom lip still wobbled. "Oh! Mama told me they were looking for you. It's breakfast!"

Yuuri chuckled and patted his angry stomach. "Yes, I was just going there." He stood and grasped the little boys hand.

Chris chattered nonstop about this and that on there way to the dining room. He only caught small snipets of what the child was saying. Something about a birthday and his mother. The rest could've been the meaning of life for all he understood. He didn't have the heart to stop him and have him repeat what he said.

Chris let go of his hand once they reached the dining room and darted to Wolfram, calling a joyous "Mama!" as he ran. He was scooped up in his mothers arms and told what an wonderful little boy he was.

Jolene studied him from the far side of the room before walking over to him. "You fell asleep in your office?" She pressed a hand against the indent on his cheek. "How's your neck?"

He grabbed her hands and lowered them from his neck. He really hated these public signs of affection, though his wife seemed to love them. He saw the slight look of pain cross her face. "I'm fine," he said softly, bending to kiss her on the cheek.

Wolfram walked over to him with a quarky grin on his face. "Up working all night?" Chris was now contenting himself to playing with the string that kept the front of his shirt together. With one good tug, the child could probably open it.

Jolene's arms slipped around his waist. "It appears so," she said and he could feel the tight smile that played over his face.

His normal response would be to throw something flippant back but from experience he'd learned Wolfram would ignore him for days. He did this so effortlessly, as if it wasn't more then a half-thought to do so and he had to be reminded to talk to him again. He limited himself to: "You know how that goes..."

Gwendle and Rex happened to come in then, cutting off whatever response Wolfram may have had. Rex crossed the distance to him and took Chris from his arms, frowning. "You shouldn't be carrying him," he said.

Wolfram blushed, suddenly bashful, and Yuuri asked: "Why? Pregnate?"

He murmured something under his breath, still blushing, and Chris smiled. "We were planning on waiting a bit before we told you all."

Was this ironic humor? Yuuri thought. He supposed what Rex really meant was that Wolfram had wanted to wait and he hadn't. He'd probably only agreed to wait until some convient time to taunt him with it.

Jolene's hands fell from his waist and she flung her arms wide. "That's great!" she explained, pulling Wolfram into a tight hug. "Too bad it happened now though. It would be a shame to miss out on the faery wine." She sent a deferring glance to him.

He didn't reply. Instead, he went to the dining table and sat down. The rest chattered for a minute before taking their place. He smiled at Jolene, who seemed thrilled for it. What struck him as being truly ironic was that the one big, main, unfailing, and utterly uncomprimising reason for him to not marry Wolfram was because he'd wanted a family and a litter of children. And here he was, married to a barren woman with the one person he truly desired popping out children like clockwork with another man.

The End

To be honest, I don't like this but it didn't leave me alone. The idea hit me between after writing the prolouge and starting the first chpt of New Old Times. I promised I'd think about it after chpt 1 was finished but it took hold of me and wouldn't let me go. Maybe now I can move on and write more of New Old Times.