Conrad suppressed what he knew was rising from the tingling in his stomach at the sight of Yuuri, completely soaked, waiting to continue his interesting interrogation. The feeling was notable, the want throbbed in his veins, and the water wasn't helping Yuuri's enhanced features dampen whatsoever. He's just as exquisite as when Conrad is sober and tentative, maybe even more so- his eyes blur around the edges and his king takes an ethereal charge around his skin.
For a moment he's stunned, and tries to comprehend what Yuuri's been saying, but he can't really catch his words and begins to loathe having so much intoxicant. His eyes sway a bit to Yuuri's jaw but he brings them back up on instinct.
"The wedding is tomorrow... which is kind of soon, but-"
He's saying something else, and Conrad finally discovers that there is no way in hell he's going to get through this. The way Yuuri's lips melt around his words make it all too difficult to register what is going on; the fluidity of his speech is completely missing, and if grammar ever existed, Conrad can't remember any of it.
Conrad suddenly felt all the more worse for not making a break out the window like Josak had.
For a second, thinking that it might block out Yuuri's face, Conrad closed his eyes, so briefly it's unnoticeable- and only finds Yuuri's voice creating mental images he can't get away from. He can feel the vibration of his tone against his chest, slightly deep yet still high in its boyish semblance. He's so aesthetic and real that Conrad almost swears he's tipping at the weight of his words.
Yuuri moved forward a little bit, hesitant in his steps.
"Conrad? Are you drunk?"
Conrad knew he'd been caught, but something made him want to cover up the stupor he was in anyway and so he blinks, slowly, to emphasize attentiveness, which he fails at, and shakes his head.
"No, Your Majesty, not particularly."
Yuuri raises a brow and cocks his head, looking for any signs of deterrence, but leaves it at that.
"Well, did you hear what I said?"
Conrad pauses, reluctantly giving in. He's never lied to him so blatantly before.
"No, I'm sorry."
Yuuri continued on like he already knew that answer had been coming. It didn't matter that he sounded slightly different, with a hint of cynicism on his tongue.
"Well I was talking about the wedding. For the preparations... Conrad. You're drunk."
The way Yuuri said it made Conrad's vision careen to one side, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been a mere hour ago. He refocused on Yuuri's face, barely nodding.
"Slightly, yes; perhaps if we could finish this conversation at another time-"
Yuuri's eyes flickered for a moment, catching Conrad's attention.
The small king was absolutely reticent as he gazed upon Conrad's features, finally noticing the bits of sweat clinging at browned bangs. He could suddenly tell that his guardian's eyes were just a pinch glazed, glassy and ever-anxious.
Yuuri stepped closer to him, and Conrad didn't even do a single thing to stop him. The boy's skin was supple with the rain, and if he wanted to get closer so Conrad could have a better look, well, than so be it.
Yuuri wasn't saying anything still, but Conrad was slightly grateful for that. Other than making him recognize the growing headache at his temples, the quiet was giving him more time to wordlessly gaze.
It was quiet, but it was back to that blessed agreeable quiet that they had always had before. It wasn't intrusive, nor ambitious. It just sat there, hovering, and Conrad swore that it was only due to the whiskey. Only moments ago, it seemed, was Yuuri turning from him, anger radiating off him in varying shades of intensity. He bit back the horrible swelling of missing his closeness with the boy.
Yuuri visibly shivered a little bit, breaking the string that had held their scrutiny, and in doing so earned Conrad's drunken concern.
"It's raining, Your Majesty."
Yuuri looked at him incredulously. "Yes, it is."
"I'm saying you could catch ill."
Yuuri crossed his arms and hunched a bit to hopefully generate warmth, appalled that their conversations had turned to this.
"You said that as soon as I came in."
Yuuri walked ever closer, a little riled, continuously rubbing his porcelain hands over his soaked arms. His lips were a little darker, which probably had nothing to do with his aggravation but more so of the freezing rain outside, yet Conrad could have been convinced otherwise.
Shin Makoku's king could never really hold a negative emotion for too long however, and his pulsing annoyance succumbed quickly to a silent countenance.
Conrad quietly pined for the boy in front of him, absolutely taken by the distinguished attributes that set Yuuri's face aglow. He was so quiet and even- he couldn't even be completely angry with him, after all he'd done. Why he hadn't careened to the side from the mere exhausting act of staring at such a raw work of art, he didn't know. All he wanted was for Yuuri not to say anything anymore, and for him to love him in his own way he had done before all this had happened. He wanted to play baseball in the rain if his king would allow him, and never touch whiskey again- maybe even make Yuuri beam and laugh if he could, if he was only permitted-
Yuuri's eyes were as soft as they ever were as his hand came out and pressed slightly at Conrad's rumpled sleeve.
"Here, lean against something."
He quietly led Conrad to the very beam Josak had cockily taken rest at mere moments before, and made sure the drunken man could lean against it completely balanced.
For a moment Yuuri's face contorted strangely, and he stepped away from Conrad's frame as if to get a better look. He tapped at his chin as if he were a dean interrogating a student; the kind that already knows the kids been accepted, but enjoys just a bit of teasing.
"You know, you don't really look like yourself in here. I don't think I've ever seen you so disheveled."
Conrad, who had always made it a point to be presentable before his king, was slightly irked.
"I didn't intend for you to find me, Your Majesty, I apologize."
Yuuri's funning jests suddenly halted, and his eyes softened to a different degree of silence; his hand hovered, uncertain, over his chin. It led any wandering eyes to the small, decadent curve of his lower lip before he spoke again.
"I guess I knew that already."
There was no point in trying to hide the disappointment in his black eyes. No point in Conrad pretending he didn't see them, either.
In a desperate attempt to lift them again, he tried to keep Yuuri's attention and threw all of his miserable self loathing to the side for a moment. Both of them didn't need to be alone.
"However, I would love to be in your wedding."
He thought it might work, like all the times before. At the evenings when Yuuri had been upset, Conrad's gestures and silent adoration had proved sufficient for whatever Yuuri craved to feel. If he had been down from a courtly decision, Conrad's catching arm could easily wrap around such a problem, could make it seem altogether insignificant...
Yuuri blinked this time and remained motionless.
Conrad waited for the, "We both know that's not what I came here for," or the, "You have the nerve to actually take me up on the offer?" but Yuuri said nothing to ease his tensions. He just waited, seeming to assess the situation; eyes scanning the lantern's light that had been long ago left on a board of wood across the stable.
Conrad waited breathlessly for him to speak.
"The court recital is at ten... they told me to have a witness. I didn't want to bother Murata or Josak or... well, you either. But I thought... maybe, to make things..."
Conrad was wincing but Yuuri wasn't looking at him. He suddenly rushed to have the direction of their encounter change.
"Have you met her?"
Yuuri looked up in surprise. His hair was still noticeably wet, but he seemed to be warming up. It still glistened from the lantern's warm wick.
"I've only seen her for a moment. Her names Beverly."
Conrad nodded curtly and tried to envision what sort of woman would be worthy of taking Yuuri's hand in marriage. Would she have brown hair? Brown eyes? Certainly not. He didn't have to think long to decide it wasn't the best way to spend his energy.
He could tell Yuuri was completely uncomfortable talking about it anyway, regardless if Conrad could imagine what she looked like or not. Yuuri's cheeks had tinged a bit, paling in comparison to the color of his mouth; highlighting the white of his eyes.
"She's nice. She's a little quiet...but pretty. I'm not sure if she even likes me, though. I mean, Gwendal sort of recommended her, and I didn't really want to force anyone, but she said she understood and you weren't there and-"
Yuuri stopped, finally chewing on his lip.
"Conrad..."
He could taste the tone in Yuuri's voice.
Would it be so bad, just to take something for yourself? Just this once?
Conrad couldn't have stopped himself with the sort of determined look Yuuri had, the alcohol in his veins, the sweet drops of rain falling off Yuuri's cheeks. He liked to think they were desperate tears, for him alone, and that he could stop them if he tried to. With so many things working against his better judgment, Conrad saw his last seconds of opportunity running away with him, and he couldn't ignore the pleading way Yuuri had called out to him, dismantling his isolated demeanor. He wanted to wipe his eyes, wanted to rebelliously act out a night before a man's wedding; and he didn't care if anyone felt any other way.
He paused.
What was I thinking? Whiskey?
Yuuri came closer until Conrad's shadow, cast from the lantern, covered one of his coal eyes.
"Conrad..." he repeated, "You really don't have anything to say?"
How easy it was to give into temptations of greed or flesh. How far would he really fall if it was just this one night? Wasn't Yuuri right? Wasn't Yuuri's ardent eyes enough to make a man crush and fold and want and need?
If he commanded it, I wouldn't have a choice, right?
It was his last chance before the alcohol took him completely. Never mind that it had been wearing off for a good twenty minutes.
"I'll attend your wedding. I'll be there, Yuuri."
If he asks it of me, then I've made up my mind. He can have it.
"Please..."
It must have been the way his voice slightly cracked and deepened, or the way he had forgotten to use formality for Yuuri's title. It could have merely been the cause of Conrad speaking of weddings with Yuuri's name in the same breath, or confusing Yuuri's begging for something else. God knew the main reason was because Yuuri's eyes had softened to such a quiet need, such a devastated public desire- and at that instant, every inch of Conrad's soul wanted to claim him. It rushed him in an entirely novel sensation and swept to his roots. His fingers tingled, like catching a curve ball in a glove, or racing for a pop fly that would never be caught; and he almost shielded his eyes in anticipation of watching Yuuri slide into home, safe.
It was over since the beginning. How could I have won this? This game had had it's ninth inning long before he had locked himself up in self pity. Why it had taken him this long, he would never, ever know. He had known from the way Yuuri breathed next to him while running, from the way he gave him his own fork at dinner for the lack of utensils in the kitchen. Alcohol? A deterrent! Oh, and only to think that it had cleared his vision and mind in so short of seconds, to allow him a warrant for what he really should have been batting for the entire time.
Wolfram could wait! The others could wait. Weddings could be canceled and reinstated, and hell, if it was the whiskey talking, then God blessed, allow him to have a few more moments in such clarity and single mindedness.
Conrad had always been a strong man, but he knew when to lose- and if winning the prize had only needed a little loss to whiskey, and how could I regret this? Having him? then he would just go ahead and forfeit.
Conrad's arms, seconds after Yuuri had uttered his plea, wrenching him from his state of limbo- between desire and loyalty- reached around his small limbs and grazed his lower back. He easily bunched his fingers and brought Yuuri close to him, ignoring the surprised yelp in one fell swoop, and didn't take any longer with turmoils and desires. His face easily reached down to the height Yuuri had attained at nineteen, nearly to his chin and-
They seamed together. Yuuri's lips were as soft as they had been in the hallway, as soft as they had been when Conrad had been confused and completely stupid. His mind didn't even begin to describe them. Silk was nothing when his own lips were pressed against this.
For a moment Yuuri's eyes widened in ambiguous horror- God only knew what he could have been thinking of. Smashed between Conrad's chest and arms he grunted from the sudden weight, attacked by the sour stench of the alcohol, barely able to breathe.
He was yelling, "Wait!" trying to free his arms, wincing and exerting himself to get free from the tan uniform that had so easily disregarded him days ago-
Yuuri managed to get in a few words just as Conrad's skilled mouth opened to pry at his bottom lip.
"Ungh, Whiskey? Conrad, please stop-"
Conrad was pushing again and Yuuri couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He had been right all along- right about his own feelings- spot on with Conrad's... but the man was drunk. Drunk.
This doesn't make any sense. He's lied to me... again.
Conrad's fingers suddenly slipped to the skin of his back, and he arched a little forward, stringing his eyebrows together from the effort it took not to sound out.
Conrad's onslaught quickly led him to pushing off the wood he had been leaning on, planning to take this to a more comfortable spot- but forgetting about the whiskey, he only succeeded in stumbling to the side with Yuuri tightly in one arm, the other desperately trying to keep both of them up on another beam he had ungracefully tripped towards.
He grunted once, half from the effort and half from finally succeeding to ease Yuuri's lips open, and quickly maneuvered to hold both sides of Yuuri's body securely.
Yuuri suddenly sounded like he was trying to talk, and Conrad wanted to listen, he really did, but the sweet, lingering scent of his breath was a bit too much to take in, (regardless of having a wonderful amount of it the day before) and he answered by tasting the salt of his lower lip instead.
Yuuri finally hitched and shuddered, vaguely whimpering as heat poured from Conrad's body. He leaned into Conrad's touch involuntarily. Conrad grunted at the sound and lifted his arm to grab the boy's shoulder, promptly knocking the forgotten lamp from its perch and not giving a damn if all the hay burned and the whole stable turned to ash.
"Wait-!"
Yuuri's cry was smothered before he could finish, the lamp's glass shattering at their feet.
Managing to free an arm, Yuuri tried flailing his wet sleeve at the small fire beginning but a foot away from them, and had a deep feeling that it wasn't helping.
"Conrad-!"
Conrad's foot quickly stomped out the flames, his hands continuing their work. Yuuri sputtered in disbelief.
"I said wait-!"
But it was easier for a wet shirt's buttons to come undone than to listen. Easier than Conrad had imagined it would be, at least. They slipped with his fingers and revealed smooth, pink flesh, and he prayed that, even though he was as eager as ever, that he would be able to stop himself if he had to. Yuuri's hair kept leaving drops over his uniform, and he knew he'd have to send for another one in the morning thanks to wrinkles. But it didn't matter. Nothing did. His lips were nearly numb with effort, but he couldn't stop grasping the taste he had refused to indulge in days ago.
Yuuri was gasping for air, gasping sounds that almost sounded like his name, kissing him back in a rush, sobbing- Conrad couldn't tell. All he knew was that he wanted it to go on for as long as God allowed it to. He wanted to kiss away those past few days- he wanted to keep going until tomorrow was over, until the whole castle was in a panic, looking for their runaway groom, until everyone gave up and they were finally left to themselves-
Yuuri finally broke away from Conrad's mouth, gasping, pushing away and finally-
Conrad realized that he was livid.
"Stop!"
Yuuri was looking at him in an angry stupor, wiping his dampened mouth, getting out of his embrace.
"Conrad, what are you doing?"
His hands were still lightly touching Yuuri's sides, his eyes abandoned, confused. He spotted how swollen Yuuri's lips were, and the whiskey died down a little bit.
"Yuuri..." His voice was unbearably scratchy.
"I came here to start over! Not have you restart this again!"
For a moment, everything fell into place for Conrad Weller. He saw the wedding plans fulfilled, saw himself yelling at Yuuri in the hallway- his lips began to burn like the first time, ached- he could hear the painful hate seeping in and finally could see Yuuri, devastated- instead of willing.
"Oh God Yuuri, I'm sorry..."
He took a step closer, reaching, and Yuuri took a step back.
His eyes were watery, but it was harder to tell since the closest lamp had been destroyed. His fists were clenched, and he shrunk from Conrad's touch like it was acid.
"I...I came here, so you can stay with me in some way- some other way."
Conrad stood still, staring.
"You didn't want me, and that's fine."
Yuuri's eyes collapsed at that and looked away, ashamed, no longer scared to speak openly of feelings he had already displayed on a silver platter for the man. Conrad, however, felt the knife slice in him and twist, tasting the irony of it all.
"No, Yuuri, that wasn't-"
Yuuri pushed away from him and looked completely away. Rain was indistinguishable on his cheeks as his eyes flooded.
"It was whatever it was. It's done. I wanted you to at least... want to stay with me, or near me, or- you sent me away! Away to someone else! And now you kiss me, kiss me like you can't... live without me."
He was beautiful, the dim light barely gracing his hair, his top buttons askew, his cheeks pink.
"You're confusing me even more, Conrad."
Conrad had seen Yuuri serious many times in his life, but he had never seen him so down trodden. His voice laced with desperation and thick, thick blackness was all it took for Conrad to completely lose it.
"Yuuri-"
He stopped when he noticed the boy not looking at him still, and turned him around to face him.
"Yuuri, I don't want you to get married. Does me saying that make it all right?"
Yuuri peered at brown eyes for along while, scoffing as he retorted, "Yah, and that's the whiskey talking. Wonderful."
He pulled abruptly away from the hands that grasped him, his voice a little thick with tears.
Conrad watched as that wonderful vision escaped him, his sight slightly off, vainly trying to scan Yuuri's face. Waiting, waiting to see if he would let him in like he always had.
Instead there was nothing, and Yuuri's eyes were truly black.
"I'm not a toy. Not something for you to play with when you're drunk."
Yuuri turned away and Conrad nearly cried out, barely grabbing his arm in time before he could run off. He grasped the cloth tightly and yelled everything he had never said in his mind, trying to string them into words, declaring and testifying every feeling- every hidden feeling- he had ever felt. If Yuuri could have seen his thoughts, he would have seen himself- miles of himself- picnics, dancing suits, fields and suns and letters- his mother's curry beneath him in a bowl that made his smile steam brighter, Christmas with grateful looks of being saved from ridiculous attachment wings- cayenne pepper dirt from the baseball field smeared across a cheek, fireworks and tears and struggles and years and years of love that struggled just as much (more?) as a king did.
But Conrad only mustered a violent calling, a "Yuuri, I-" that folded back onto his tongue, and couldn't even nearly express the colors in his core.
Yuuri gave him one last glance, already as hurt as he would allow himself to be. His eyes were a case-hardened shell as he waited.
Conrad knew it was now or never, and as the alcohol ebbed, and the guilt seeped in his lungs and veins, he blamed it on the only thing he could.
"You should never forgive me."
Yuuri stopped, and the rain flecked off of the stable's walls, dripping into puddles as Conrad waited. His heart thudded as it pumped with nothing but the sheer will of a soldier that doesn't know if he'll see the sun. It hurt his chest as he sat there, feeling the intense scrutiny Yuuri was giving the water seeping from the bottom of the door. Small lips quivered a bit and Conrad could taste the lingering texture in his mouth; bittersweet and divine.
Yuuri's fists relaxed and blood flowed through them again.
"I understand." He said, and buttoned his shirt, waiting alongside the man that had always been there. He slid the door open and didn't leave, knowing that- whatever he decided would happen for the rest of the night; be it lenient or justified, Conrad would never let him walk back to the castle in the rain alone.
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Yay! Finally, a new chapter! Hopefully that filled some of the achin' my readers are feeling! :)
First, my routine thanks to all of my readers for staying so well committed! And an even GREATER thanks to all of my reviewers! An I love you to- sweetsally, aida135, bantal empuk, sayuri2023, Freakingcage7, PheonixShadow, tezuka, Sea Queen, Rodick, pheecat, Vanimelde, Miss Plague, rowbean, Shippygirl, Le-Red-Knight :), astiga0802, Nezumi Nanashi, OwlSun, chris, Violet Garnets, Meany and Katie!! Thanks so much for your encouraging words!
Well I really hope this chapter was worth the wait. I wanted to finally make Conrad feel a slap to the face, Ha! Yes :) The story will really start to pick up in the next few chapters! It's'a comin' people! Until then, please continue to support me and this story! Also, please continue to ask questions ;) They will be answered... eventually. I'm not sure how much longer this story will be, but it's sure as heck not close to done yet! I hope I'm not lengthening my stay by continuing to update. ;A;!!
Well anyway, enjoy!