Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou, and man, if I did, there would be a lot of wicked games between our gorgeous Wolf and that wimpy excuse of Maou.

Rating: PG

Warnings: References to cross-dressing, and well Murata.

Summary: A meaningful conversation between Yuuri and Murata about Yuuri's current denial and Wolfram's choice of clothing.

Pairing: Yuuram

Author's note: Wow! This is my first fic for kkm and english isn't my language, so forgive me if it's a little weird. And please feel free to tell me my mistakes. Gosh! Now I want to write something like Wolf beating Yuuri to death for all the wimpy things he did...Ok, back to here. It's something that was on my mind for quite time and turned to be a gift for my friend, Mayu, You're a sadist. xD

Two persons are sitting side by side on the sand.

"Shut up!" One hissed.

"No" Was the happy reply.

"Hell! Just shut up! I'm the king!" One of the double-black shouted.

"And I'm the Great Sage. So it's the same." Now, it was pretty obvious. If anyone had asked him.

"..." Silence. The King rolled his eyes.

"Say, you liked it." The one wearing glasses finally said.

"..." No answer came.

"Ok, you don't need to answer." He teased.

"..." A little child ran past them laughing his lungs off.

"Cause I know you like how good they fit on him..." He said, his eyes travelling down the red bikini and see-through dress that Lady Chery forced on her third son. 'Wow~! He's soooo beautiful just like me when I was at his age~!'

Poor Wolfram, he still being a good child for his mother.

"No, I don't." The king tried to keep his calmness. Yes, Yuuri keep this in mind! But his eyes betrayed him and he was soon staring at Wolfram who was peacefully playing cacth with his daughter at the sea. The way he smiled, the faint pink on his cheeks, the way his clothes clung to his body with those waves crashing on him...

Calmness wasn't really how his body was felling right now.

"Yes, you do." And his friend, doesn't seem to like that idea too.

"No. I don't." He shot a threatening glare.

"So, you can say that you don't like his nigthgown too? You know, a lot of them are gifts from Lady Cheri."

It explained all the frilly pink ruffles, laces, the almost see-through of them, and why they hung off those pale shoulders, always seeming too appetizing, just like when Wolfram called him to come back to bed or-

"No. I don't" He repllied, trying to hide from the way of his thoughts.

"Yes, yo-" But he was interrupted.

"No. And it's final" He added.

"Ok then." The Sage just shrugged.

A few minutes in a pregnant silence.

"Shibuya..." Murata called.

"What?" It couldn't become worse. Inspire Yuuri. Yes, relax. You can do this...

"You really don't like them, right?" This was more a statement than a question.

"Yes." He sighed.

"So, you don't mind if he likes, right?" The Sage said pointing at a rather tall and handsome man who was aproaching to Wolfram looking to him in way, that well, the same way Yuuri himself looked to him when was thinking things like the ones he was thinking before.

"Wolfram..." The Maou snarled while getting up muttering things like 'Damn brat, damn nightie and his fucking red bikini.' And then went marching towards - to beat - that man who was trying to steal his fiancé.

"Ok. Now I think he really dislikes them." Murata thought pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, the sunlight giving them a suspect glint which just set with the mishevous grin on his face.


What do you think? This was good or a complete lame?

Do a little brat happy, review~!

I hope you enjoyed!