Warnings: Sexual situations, and here be more angst.

Summary: Yuuri gets drunk, stuff happens, Wolfram has an unpleasant revelation.

Notes: None this time.

{++++

A couple of weeks went by and Wolfram found himself getting used to his role as Prince Consort. It didn't take long for Yuuri and himself to fall into a domestic and professional routine that was strange and familiar, familiar because it was no different from when he had shared a bed with Yuuri back when they were first engaged. Strange to wear black, strange the way people now deferred to him. There was such a difference between being engaged and being married to the King.

The one good thing was that it took him away from his Squad, normally that would have made him unhappy, but right now he needed to stay away. He didn't know if he could handle spending time with that traitor, as he'd started thinking of him in his head.

And to make things worst he had not been able to talk to his Uncle, the man had left early, even before the strategy meeting and had not informed the King or his nephew of the fact. He had sent a few courier pigeons which had been ignored and this was not the time to leave Yuuri to go after him and demand answers. If it wasn't for Yozak's intelligence to the contrary he would start to suspect his own Uncle just for his evasions, but lack of cooperation could be just as bad when it came to the service of the King, treason in its own right.

Both he and Yuuri had discussed how he was to approach Sir Wagner as the jealous father, but so soon after finding out about his betrayal he found it difficult to fabricate such a situation. He was afraid that if he spent any time with Sir Wagner he would lose it and start beating the man within an inch of his life, and he knew well enough that would not serve the interest of the King, or the welfare of his family. His daughter's safety was paramount, and between them all there was never any opportunity for Greta to be alone with the treasonous soldier.

Domestically he'd found himself getting closer to Yuuri, although they still squabbled but with far less heat. Apart from that one spat where Yuuri had talked to him about Conrad; the wimp was so innocent and oblivious when it came to the affairs of others. Sometimes that naivety was endearing, at other times it made him want to throttle his husband. His husband; how strange.

Despite all the changes he had not forgotten the truth of their marriage; it was not a love match. Fortunately their arrangement was manageable and not as disastrous as he'd feared before the wedding. At times it was almost...nice, even with the underlying tension during nights knowing their relationship had to be consummated within a short time.

Nothing had been discussed about that since their wedding night. Reluctant to bring the subject up with Yuuri he had decided to approach the challenge from another angle. His goal was to get Yuuri used to him physically, bit by bit over time and so far the plan was going well.

He continued to help Yuuri with his outfit every morning and every evening, letting his hands linger. At first Yuuri had stiffened but then he'd become more relaxed at being touched. In their bed he'd offered Yuuri massages, something that wasn't entirely altruistic since he enjoyed touching Yuuri as much as his husband seemed to find the massages relaxing.

After a few nights he'd been able to coach him out of his pyjama top, and with sweet smelling oils had affectionately massaged the muscles in his back, his touch lingering far more then he'd ever do with his men in therapeutic sessions. Sometimes he'd talk to Yuuri about the day, or if Yuuri was particularly exhausted would hum the tune his mother had to him when he was little, sending his husband to sleep.

As the massages had continued he'd started to let his fingers wander. As he straddled Yuuri's thighs he let his hands stray to the small of Yuuri's back, where his pyjama pants were low slung and lightly traced the dip as his back sloped up to his buttocks. At those times he had to resist the urge to squeeze and touch Yuuri's arse, to cup his pert bottom, to tip his fingers into his secret places; or even worst for him to touch himself, since these sessions always turned him on. Yuuri's back was quite a sight to take in by candle light, his shoulders had broadened, the years of practice in sword work and his baseball practice obvious in the contours of his muscles.

In those instances Yuuri couldn't miss how much this was affecting Wolfram, even when the King was exhausted. The way the flame in the candles flared, his affinity with fire affecting the element as the desire grew within him, feeling himself lengthen and grow hard.

No, he couldn't hide his physical reaction from Yuuri, nor did he want to, he had to get his husband used to the idea of sex and his desire.

Yuuri stiffened a little when he first angled his hips forward slightly leaning over to massage the top of his shoulders, the edge of his hardness brushing Yuuri's pyjama clothed bottom. Then he had to resist the urge to thrust forward, to give his hardness more friction but Yuuri never said anything about it, and as the days went by he no longer seemed as nervous about the brief touch of Wolfram's arousal.

He wondered if he was having the same affect on Yuuri, but he was always on his stomach so he couldn't be sure, and he wasn't ready to offer him chest massages...yet.

Yuuri said nothing when Wolfram excused himself afterwards for a trip to the washroom. There he would take a hold of himself and quickly release the tension with quick efficiency. Without this relieve sleep would be impossible with Yuuri being so very near and touchable. He wondered if Yuuri did the same thing, using the opportunity while he was away, because he hadn't noticed any other time where his husband had masturbated; he certainly had no time during the day.

Come to think of it he really hadn't noticed much when he'd slept in Yuuri's bed when they were first engaged. He'd always thought at the time that Yuuri was too embarrassed and mortified about sharing his bed with another boy, so much so he had suppressed those urges. It didn't help to also have their ten year old daughter sharing their bed, at those times Wolfram had also found his own libido going on hiatus though the underlying urge never went entirely away.

He was at an age where his hormones were at their peak and would be for quite a few decades. When he had moved back to his own bed he'd often pleasured himself before sleep, it was the best way to relax his mind and body and he was no longer accustomed to denying himself when he felt the urge.

Perhaps later on he'd ask for a smaller bed to be brought in and placed against the other wall, across the large room; this would give him more privacy and more time to indulge late at night. If Yuuri heard, then it would be too bad, he was a young mazoku. He had needs and as Prince Consort he'd never have the right to find comfort with anyone else, but he'd go crazy if he had to resort to rough jerking off in the washroom. Wolfram liked to take his time, to satisfy himself slowly but for now that's all he'd have until their relationship was bound.

Apart from the touches with the dressing and the massages, he'd also taken to sleeping closer to Yuuri. Sometimes in the middle of the night he'd woken to find his husband curled around him, one arm flung across his waist. He wasn't certain if Yuuri realised this, but it gave Wolfram some measure of reassurance that Yuuri needed him in some small way, even if it was just for comfort.

Yuuri was always the first up in the morning, by the time Wolfram woke his husband had already done his morning exercises and had come up to get dressed from the baths, damp and smelling clean, where Wolfram, still sleepy would help him with his attire. A few days before Wolfram had hugged him spontaneously one morning, when he looked at him surprised Yuuri had shrugged and mumbled something about how he was so cute in the morning half asleep in his nightgown. He'd tried not to grin at this, smothering the hope that had grown in his heart.

So things between them had gone well; Yuuri now was so very different from the Yuuri that he'd first gotten engaged to, who had always run away from any contact and protested loudly each time. At this rate he hoped things would be resolved within two months and that the tension would dissolve. Then they could come to a more platonic arrangement and he'd finally get his own bed. He ignored the pain that caused him when he thought of that, but he needed to be pragmatic.

So he was surprised when things came to a head far more rapidly, in retrospect his ignorance was a blessing, because the outcome would cause great anguish to them both.

-{

Yuuri decided it was time, if he didn't do it soon he'd lose his nerve and he didn't think he could stand the thought of going through this for the next two months, even worst if they had to do it at the last minute.

In all honesty he hadn't planned that this was to be the night until a few hours ago. In fact he hadn't really thought about it at all, he had an idea that Wolfram would move things along when it was necessary and his mind had shied away from any further details of what that would involve.

A lot of the guests had already left the Castle, and the workload had decreased considerably when Gwendal had announced that Yuuri and Wolfram could take the next day off, such a rare event. He could stay up later then sleep in.

Yuuri didn't like alcohol that much, but Murata and Gwendal had encouraged him to get used to drinking at least one or two glasses a night which was a habit of all the nobles and he'd slowly gotten a small taste for white wine. But even still he had hardly built up any tolerance; one large glass made him light headed and two had him well and truly tipsy. The few times he'd gotten really drunk he had been a happy one, hugging people randomly and falling asleep after a few hours but he couldn't drink too much because it would make him sick, it made him feel good at the time but the next day he always felt sorry for it.

It was half way through the one glass, a particularly intoxicating vintage when he'd looked over at Wolfram, who'd been watching him happily after dinner when he'd decided that he'd...he'd...his mind still couldn't wrap the thought around the idea, but he'd let Wolfram take him.

He was light headed and Wolfram looked nice, and he could imagine he'd smell nice and it would be nice to be touched and held, the alcohol made it easier for him to admit that. Yuuri rarely admitted this to himself or to others but he was touch starved. His mother had always hugged him as a child, and when he was little his brother had lavished him with hugs and kisses. Since he'd taken up his life in Shin Makoku as King the hugs had been rare and he missed it.

Murata was never really a touchy sort, Günter was but his hugs always made him uncomfortable, Wolfram had carefully given him space, and Conrad, who had always given him hugs or affectionate pats on the shoulder had slowly stopped as the years had gone by, he supposed this was all part of growing up but he missed it, sometimes so much it made him ache.

Wolfram had touched him a lot over the last few weeks, which had filled a hole in him he hadn't realised existed. He'd found himself lapping up the casual touches and the massages or the way Wolfram's thigh would touch his when they were sitting together for meetings, and he'd slowly found within himself a craving for more.

This wasn't what he thought desire was about, he still didn't feel that way, but he wanted to be touched, and he knew that Wolfram wanted far more, he was inexperienced but he could sense Wolfram's desire. He could make Wolfram happy and in return he could get more of that touch and affection. The alcohol made it easy for him to realise this, making Wolfram feel good was something he really wanted.

So when they went up to their room after dinner Yuuri was feeling happy and lightheaded, easy with purpose after four glasses. He giggled a little as he tripped on the stairs and Wolfram caught him before he fell with an exasperated huff.

"You really are an easy drunk Yuuri." He thought he heard him mutter. And when Wolfram started helping him out of his jacket, which this time he did need help with, it was oh so easy to lean in and give Wolfram a small kiss on the cheek. Well that was what he was aiming for, but Wolfram moved his head and he got his lips. Wolfram felt nice, he smelt nice.

Wolfram looked at him a little flustered. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Do I need a reason to kiss my husband?" He answered, and only felt a little strange in saying husband this time; he thought that might be a good thing. Wolfram's face went all soft, he liked that look, and he thought about kissing him again but before he could Wolfram gently grabbed his shoulders.

"Get in," Said Wolfram as he softly guided him to their bed. "Here, drink some of this," Wolfram handed him a glass of water, "I'll go open the balcony door, some fresh air might help."

He watched as Wolfram walked over to the doors which led to the balcony, the smell of rain soaked earth wafted in, as a nice gust of wind pushed the curtains back.

It must be raining, he thought. "I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow." He said out loud. He lay down on the bed; it was nice and warm and closed his eyes for a minute. He drifted a while in that half-dozing state when he felt the bed dip as Wolfram got in on the other side.

"Wolfram, could you give me a massage?"

"Aren't you relaxed enough wimp?" His husband said after a pause, but he leaned over to get the oils anyway. "Take your top off."

In the end Wolfram had to assist him with this too, the buttons weren't cooperating so easily. His head still felt giddy but nice, he hadn't got to the part where he felt ill, perhaps the water would help. Soon he'd ask Wolfram to have sex with him; yes he could use that word easily in this state.

He felt a little nervous but the alcohol made it feel remote, his thoughts a little disjointed, he could trust Wolfram, he knew what to do, a well of affection bloomed in his chest, he could always trust Wolfram. After Wolfram helped him with removing his top he leaned forward and gave Wolfram another kiss, this time he got the cheek and he let it linger a little, the startled noise Wolfram made him so very happy. He tried not to giggle at how absurd Wolfram looked with his mouth open, green eyes huge.

If Wolfram had any thoughts about the kiss, he didn't say as Yuuri lay down on his stomach, the jasmine like smell of the oils permeating the air. This was all very familiar now, and he loved the way the warm oils felt as Wolfram firmly pressed down on the muscles on his back, he drifted in and out as Wolfram started his humming again, he felt Wolfram dip lower past the small of his back.

"Wolfram, if you want, we can have sex now, you can take me." He only stumbled over the words slightly. The hands on his back stopped abruptly. Perhaps Wolfram didn't understand completely. He raised his voice. "I want you to, I'd rather it be this way."

There was a silence for beat. And then Wolfram spoke.

"Are you sure Yuuri? You know what this means?"

-{

Wolfram couldn't believe that Yuuri had asked this from him, in such a forthright way, or as forthright as Yuuri could when it came to sex. But he had to make sure that Yuuri knew exactly what he was asking Wolfram to do with him, to do to him.

"You want me to penetrate you Yuuri?" He really hated using such a technical dry word with so little romance, but it was the quickest way to make Yuuri understand what this would mean. As if sensing his need for full consent Yuuri answered, sounding nervous but clear, his muscles underneath him tense.

"Err yeah. I want you to. That is, if you want to?"

It was clear that Yuuri was a little drunk, and it occurred to Wolfram that he'd drunk that much deliberately, maybe he had this planned from the beginning. He didn't think Yuuri was too far drunk, or he'd never consider going further, but that was always something that he'd plan, to get Yuuri tipsy and relaxed beforehand. The first time was always scary, he remembered well enough.

He frowned; he didn't want to fuck Yuuri. Perhaps if he kept going he could give him a chest massage and crawl on top of him, and well...he didn't think Yuuri would protest too much. But he'd take this slowly, no point in scaring him.

"If you want me to stop at any time, just let me know...at any time Yuuri." He didn't want Yuuri to feel obligated to satisfy him, if this was aborted then there would be no harm done other than a little frustration on his part, he'd allow that there might be a few attempts before they got it right.

"Yeah okay." He heard Yuuri softly.

He continued massaging, his finger kneading lower; he leaned forward, just so Yuuri could feel him, half hard. So very slowly he pulled Yuuri's pyjama pants down until his entire backside was revealed. He paused slightly to admire his husbands bottom, muscled and yet soft and he slowly place his hands on both cheeks, Yuuri flinched slightly but then settled, he looked up to see Yuuri hiding his head in the pillow.

He found himself getting harder, the thought of sinking his shaft into Yuuri flashed through his mind, then he thought about climbing onto Yuuri's lap, watching Yuuri's face as he impaled himself on his cock, he'd never seen what Yuuri would look like erect. Suddenly he wanted to, oh so badly. He wanted to make Yuuri feel good, to be the first person to make him lose control, this was something he wanted to savour as if...no, because it would probably be the last time he'd get the chance.

Nobody else will ever have this Yuuri, he thought, and he felt a little smug about that. He moved his fingers, grabbing both globes firmly as he rubbed them a little roughly and then softly, the oil making the glide of his fingers smooth. Another image hit him of leaning over and licking inside the crease, of finding those secret places inside, but he stopped himself, he didn't think Yuuri would ever want that, ever. He paused thinking about what he would do next, perhaps he'd ask Yuuri to roll over, but he discarded that thought, instead his caressed Yuuri's hips and with one smooth and quick motion moved it underneath to stroke Yuuri's shaft.

Yuuri's reaction was sudden and violent as he rolled away into a half sitting position, clutching his pillow to cover himself as he faced Wolfram, his eyes lowered.

"You don't have to touch me, just...just take me." He explained hastily, his voice shaky, but if Yuuri wanted to hide from him it was too late, he already knew.

"You don't want me!" His voice came out as much more of an accusation then he wanted, and he cursed himself for it as Yuuri shoulders flinched, almost as if he had hit him. But he knew, Yuuri wasn't aroused by the massage, he probably never was.

His stomach was so tight it was hard to breathe. He couldn't do this. He couldn't force himself on someone who didn't want him physically. The evidence was clear; Yuuri was so disgusted with Wolfram that he couldn't even get aroused at his touch. Wolfram was probably too...repulsive, too male.

He had to get out of the room, he had to get some distance, he felt so irrationally angry and hurt and this wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all for him to feel this way and it wasn't fair for him to take it out on Yuuri but he couldn't control how he felt. He had to leave before he said something that they would both regret, he started to get up but Yuuri grabbed him roughly.

"No, it doesn't matter, I want you to do this Wolfram, I can't...I don't...I, Wolfram, we have to do this, I don't mind, I want this." Yuuri looked up at him sincerely, his eyes wet with unshed tears, one hand still holding fast on his wrist, the other clutching the pillow that covered his lap. This was so very wrong.

"How can you want this, this is something that has been forced on you...I can't," a memory hit him, "This is why you wanted me to fuck you." He hated himself when the word made Yuuri flinch again. But it all became so clear.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered harshly, he was close to tears himself.

"I didn't know how, I didn't...Wolf, it's not you it's not-

"I don't want to hear it, I can't, I'm going," this time Yuuri didn't try to stop him as he yanked his arm free of the King's grip. He didn't look back.

-{

This was one of the few nights since he'd started his affair with Yozak that he was alone, and Murata was finding it difficult. He pulled his hair tie out and let his hair fall free, dragging his fingers through the strands roughly to massage his scalp.

"I better get used to it." He said to the empty room. Yozak was often out of the country and it was only his supervision of Sir Wagner's surveillance and certain other nobles which had kept him in the capital for such a long period of time.

He looked at the books scattered across his work table, ancient texts he'd managed to unearth with von Christ's help from the Castle archives, almost every single bit of information on oracles and divination and the insane ramblings of seers and prophets he could find.

The vision of the battle and Wolfram's fall had visited him twice more and he knew it was something he could not ignore. He still couldn't understand why he was getting them without Shinou's help, he knew his talents and he was never naturally an oracle. He'd been reluctant to speak to Ulrike who did get visions infrequently, knowing this would encourage her belief that Shinou was still out there. But if he didn't make any progress he may not have any choice, Ulrike might know something he didn't...unless, perhaps he could speak to Ondine first.

He closed the book he was reading, making sure to bookmark it for later. Still too early for bed, it was only after midnight and if went to bed he'd only stare at the ceiling uselessly. Perhaps if he got himself a cup of tea to settle himself down. He shivered as a cool draught came through the room; he got up and pulled the night robe tightly about him as he closed the window, listening to the pattering drops of rain against the pane, driven by another gust of wind. It was too early for the rainy season, maybe this would mean the river would flood and Yozak wouldn't be able to leave for a while. A foolish notion.

He was just about to make himself some tea when he heard the sharp knock at the door. Who was here at such a late hour? With foreboding he opened the door.

"Sorry to disturb you, Your Eminence." It was the Captain of the Shrine Maidens. "But the King has arrived seeking your audience."

"It's fine, please bring him up." He set the jug on the fire hearth to boil, no matter the crisis and he'd imagine there had to be one tea was always the best way to handle it, especially on a cold rainy night.

There was very little time for him to get dressed; he should have asked if Shibuya had come alone, oh well. When he saw Shibuya at his door he felt ashamed for concerning himself about such insignificant matters when his school friend was so obviously distressed.

"Sorry...sorry, Murata, it's just, I needed to talk to someone."

Shibuya was soaked through, his hair and jacket wet. "Stay there." He instructed his confused friend and went into his room and pulled out a large robe and towel, returning quickly he handed them to Shibuya.

"Go into my room and change out of your clothes and put this robe on." He told Yuuri gently.

"No it's fine –

"Don't be silly, Shibuya, you're shivering and you'll be no good if you catch ill. We can sit next to the fire and get warmed up. Hang the wet clothes on the rack behind the door." Yuuri nodded miserably.

By the time Shibuya had returned the jug was boiling and he carefully removed it. It was times like this that he missed having a microwave, that and a laptop with internet. Reading old books by candlelight wasn't as romantic as those period films made it out to be, especially if you were short sighted.

He placed the jug on the hot plate and carefully poured it out into the cups while Yuuri settled himself on the sofa. Murata had found a couple of nice sofas to place in front of the fire, whoever had lived in here before had been fond of hard back chairs which he had replaced. The ascetic life had never been for him unless necessity dictated it.

"Be careful, it's hot." He murmured as he handed the cup to Shibuya.

They sat there for a while. Murata giving his friend furtive worried looks although it was plain that Shibuya was far too gone in misery to notice.

"Murata, I'm sorry, I didn't...I needed to talk to someone and you were the only person who I could, it's...I don't know how to... Wolfram is so upset with me."

He could think of a few things that had gone wrong, but he didn't want to embarrass his friend any further by guessing.

"Why is that, Shibuya?" He asked gently.

It was another length of time before Yuuri answered his eyes downcast.

"I wanted to be with Wolfram, I wanted to...to consummate our marriage, but...Murata, there is something wrong with me." The last few words were said in an anguished whisper as if it had taken effort to say them. Murata knew how embarrassed Yuuri got when it came to sex, in school he had made crude jokes to get a reaction out of the boy he had been, but as he'd grown older he'd still held onto that prudishness, even living in Shin Makoku, which was a much more open society than his childhood home.

"I take it things didn't go well?" He prodded his friend when the following silence dragged on. Yuuri had put his cup down and was now staring into the fire, one hand wrapped in the cloth tie that held his robe shut, twisting it back and forth in agitation.

"No, I couldn't, I wasn't able to, Murata, I'm not interested...I don't..." Shibuya struggled with his words but continued his voice still low and distressed. "It's not just Wolfram, it's everyone, I haven't...it's not...there is something wrong with me." He repeated. It was apparent that Yuuri was unable to express exactly what was making him so miserable. Murata decided it was best he make a guess although he'd always had suspicions.

"You find it difficult to get sexually aroused?"

Yuuri nodded miserably, his shame palpable.

"Shibuya, have you ever had an erection?" There was no way he could sugar coat that question, it was necessary to know if he wanted to help his friend.

"Yeah, when...when I hit puberty at first, but then it stopped."

Inside Murata sighed in relief, if that was the case it was less likely that his friend was entirely asexual. There was nothing wrong with that but it would make things complicated being married to a man with a strong sex drive and something told him that Wolfram's passions ran high.

"Did you masturbate then?" Yuuri nodded again, still not looking at him, seemingly fascinated with the cloth tie that was now knotted around his fingers.

It was like pulling teeth, but he had to be patient. Before he thought of another question Shibuya continued, tentatively at first, but faster as the words spilled out of his mouth in a desperate stream of consciousness.

"It stopped after I got engaged to Wolfram, at first I thought it was because he was sharing my bed...and that was hard. It gave me little time for myself but then the urge went away...it took me a while to notice, what with becoming King and chasing after swords and flutes and adopting a daughter." Shibuya laughed humourlessly, just a step away from hysteria.

"Before that, were you attracted to anyone?"

"Yeah, I mean, not anyone in particular, just actresses and singers...and...base err others." Murata raised his eyebrow.

"But after," Yuuri added hastily, "It wasn't that I didn't notice when people were attractive or good looking, it's just...I didn't feel it, and after a while I stopped remembering what it felt like. It's hard to miss something you can't remember wanting in the first place. Sometimes...it was almost peaceful."

Looking back at Shibuya's behaviour this explained so much, his awkwardness over talk of sex, his evasion of flirtatious behaviour, the way he was oblivious to other people's body language or affairs that were going on around him. Without any sexual desire he didn't have the experience to understand this and he didn't know how to ask for help.

"Shibuya, do you want me to help you solve this?" He asked his friend gently. He didn't want to interfere unless it was necessary and only if Yuuri wanted it.

"Can you? I thought this wasn't something that could be put right." For the first time he looked at Murata and shrugged resignedly his face still unhappy. "I just wanted to know how I could get Wolfram to accept this...but it's not fair for him, I know it's not."

"I don't think your situation is natural, Shibuya, I can't say for certain, but I have a feeling this might..."

He stopped when there was a sharp knock on the door. He was certainly popular tonight.

"Excuse me for a second." Yuuri nodded dully and returned his gaze to the fire. The knocking at the door continued impatiently. I'm coming, he though irritably.

When he opened the door he was confronted by another wet visitor who walked into the room without so much as a greeting, "Your Eminence," Prince Wolfram burst out before he could say anything. "I want you to dissolve the marriage...Yuuri!" Wolfram broke off, his eyes widening as he noticed his husband standing there; he had stood up at Wolfram's entrance wretchedly resigned.

"Come on in, Bielefeld." Murata said in a dry tone. "It seems we have a lot to talk about."