Chapter Four, Part I

Notes: This chapter is broken up into two parts, since I need a flashback in the middle. I know this part is short, sorry. I really struggled with what I wanted the boundaries (if any) to be with Conrad and Yuuri at this point of the story.

Murata leaves as soon as the message is conveyed to the pair. It is not dire, but there is reason for concern. The peace treaties between the two Shimaron kingdoms and Shin Makoku are up for renewal in the upcoming weeks, and already word is spreading that the king of Dai Shimaron is going to reject the renewal. As a result, Shin Makoku is on guard, not yet planning for immediate action but ensuring they are prepared for anything. While the new king of Dai Shimaron is nowhere near as reckless as Belal, he has shown he continues the trend of having no qualms with sacrificing some of his people to play a political game.

But it is not a game Yuuri is willing to play with his own people or anyone else's. He instructs Murata to ensure that Gwendal does not send any word to Dai Shimaron just yet. Yozak would be sent to gather as much information on the atmosphere as possible, and then return within a couple of days.

Yuuri calculates the time difference between Shin Makoku's days and Earth's and decides that he will be returning much earlier than anticipated. Returning to the castle two Earth days from then would bring him and Conrad back just in time for Yozak's report. He would decide what to do from there, but there was a great chance that he would end up going to Dai Shimaron for some negotiations.

'So much for baseball solving problems,' he thinks grimly. He is lying on his stomach, randomly tapping out a soundless song against his pillow while he thinks of different things. Beside him, Conrad is sitting with his back against the headboard, eyes intent on a book. His elbows are beginning to ache in protest from supporting his weight, but he thinks lying down completely will somehow be an invasion of Conrad's bed. Of course, last night was easily considered an invasion of that very same space, but Yuuri is now visibly awake so excuses are no longer reliable. So he continues to let his arms support his upper body weight while his mind flits though different things.

"Hey, Conrad?" he finally speaks, taking the opportunity to shift his weight onto one arm as he turns to his protector. "If I ask you something, do you promise to answer honestly?"

"Of course, Yuuri." The book is laid aside, quickly forgotten.

Yuuri pauses, feeling a little embarrassed. But his has to know. "Do I look like a girl?"

Conrad suddenly bursts into laughter, as he is apt to do at the strangest times. Yuuri is really not impressed with the man's sense of humor.

"Oi, don't laugh! Of course I'm going to ask when everyone keeps trying to dress me as a girl!"

But Conrad continues to laugh, and in an unguarded, unthinking moment, Yuuri is pushing himself up, his palm against Conrad's clothed chest. He dips his face down to allow his eyes to meet Conrad's laughing ones.

"I'm serious," he croaks.

Conrad stops, but is still smiling as he brings his palm up to Yuuri's cheek. "Of course you don't. Just look at you."

At the contact, Yuuri becomes aware of what he has done. He knows he should pull away now, return to his bed and go to sleep. Instead he tilts his head into Conrad's touch, finding comfort in the palm cupped against his warmed skin. "I don't know what to do," he admits, and this could be his response to any number of things on his mind.

"You will do what is best, as you always do." He opens his eyes at the sound of Conrad's voice, soft and sure. Conrad's other palm comes to rest upon the untouched side of Yuuri's face and together they guide and tip until Yuuri feels Conrad's lips against his own. It comes as sweet assurance, because although this kiss is one of comfort, it reminds Yuuri that his feelings are not misplaced, for naught, or unreciprocated.

Conrad does not move again until Yuuri responds and deepens the kiss. He acknowledges Yuuri as the one to call each move as it is made; the Maou is, after all, the one who has made the self-inflicted rules for them. They are silly to even Yuuri himself-cheating is cheating be it through a thought, kiss or copulation-yet he tries to justify it by stopping when there is much more to want.

The buttons on Conrad's shirt are frustrating him, caused by his clumsiness rather than by any fault of theirs. The bottom button remains fastened when Yuuri has enough space to slide the garment down Conrad's arms. It pools around Conrad's hips and is forgotten as his fingertips touch welcomed planes of skin and muscle. He feels Conrad's hands mimicking his actions on his own shirt, though it is a more graceful rendition of the same act. He is focusing on his discovery of that same scar from early that morning, his lips and tongue retracing the familiar path and extending up the length of Conrad's neck. Conrad moans, a sound so slight and rare because of his own reservations that it drives Yuuri crazy when he manages to elicit it from the man's lips. Encouraged, he presses on to the earlobe and circles around the outer rim of the ear.

"Yuuri."

The voice is strained, and the hands that steady his hips are gripping too tightly to be a voluntary hold. Yuuri realizes that he has been grinding against Conrad, causing the desired friction that would lead to…the breaking of a rule. Yuuri drops his head into Conrad's shoulder and listens to the erratic rhythm of their breathing.

After a few moments of steadying himself, Yuuri takes a deep breath and locks himself in the bathroom. The cold shower does nothing but enhance his misery, and it is a long time before he feels enough control to return to the room.

He passes Conrad's bed without a glance and slides into his own. He hates this and knows one day soon it will need to end, one way or the other. But for now he goes to sleep miserable and unsatisfied, yet without having broken either of his two rules.