Title: Sunny Side Up
Fandom: KKM
Pairing: Yuuri/Wolfram
Timeline: Set the morning after the events in ep. 17. Very, very vague spoilers; but you don't really need to know what happened to appreciate the fluff.
Summary: The most precious of life and love is in the small moments; although, these two have yet to realize that.

"Oww..." Yuuri rubbed his eyes against the glare of the sun through the curtains, and wondered why his neck felt so sore. It seemed that he was always waking up in some kind of pain or other since he'd ended up in this world...

Then the events of the previous day caught up to him, and he winced before resignedly massaging the complaining muscles. With Günter latched on to him like that, and Wolfram yanking on Günter, it was no wonder he felt like someone had taken his head, rammed it through one of the gaps between the posts lining the stair-rail and then pulled it right back out again without any particular ceremony.

Although, it had felt good to be found, Yuuri mused, the morning sunlight warm where it fell against his cheek and making him feel rather like flopping right back into bed and snoozing till noon. But of course, there was still too much to be done. He had his duties as Maou to consider, after all--although, now that he thought about it, perhaps studying could wait till later. Maybe after he'd solved another case. Or something. Anything.

Dark eyes blinked, and his fingers stilled where they had been absently tugging at the collar of his nightshirt--came to rest on the expanse of empty, sun warmed sheet beside him. Yuuri blinked a few more times, then abruptly began patting and poking himself, in all the usual places where he might have been sore every other day but wasn't today, because the spot beside him on the bed was utterly devoid of any traces of a pink-nightgown-wearing fiancée who might elbow or kick or scratch him or all three in the course of the night.

Ordinarily--ordinarily?--he would have been jumping up and down with excitement at having actually stayed on the bed the entire night without getting a new bruise in some weird, incomprehensible place, but instead Yuuri just frowned and slid off the bed, padding a few paces towards the door in his bare feet without quite knowing where he was going, then stopping. Where was he going, exactly? He wouldn't be able to find Wolfram in the castle if the latter had woken up much earlier than him--an unusual occurrence in and of itself, because the blond rarely woke up before noon unless Günter was giving the wake-up call--he would probably get lost, actually, because despite his having lived here for some time, now, the castle seemed to have a strange tendency to change in subtle, indefinable ways that baffled his sense of direction to no end (not that Yuuri had much of one in the first place, but he could at least tell which way was out most of the time, yes?).

What was he doing, anyways? He should be taking advantage of this opportunity to have the entire bed to himself! That thought put all other thoughts, Wolfram-related or no, out of Yuuri's head like so many bits of windblown fluff. Snickering just a little gleefully to himself, the newest king of Shin Makoku turned, clasping his hands at the sight of the big, four-poster bed, elegant velvet curtains spread and tumbled sheets just inviting him to...

"OW!"

"... What do you think you're doing?"

Yuuri's head poked up from where he had taken a running leap to sprawl spread-eagled onto the springy bed, off which he had bounced from his landing amidst the sheets straight onto the floor on the other side, with a fairly noticeable thud. Tears had sprung to his eyes from the force of the impact, and added to the pathetic picture he made as he sniffed up at Wolfram, who merely stared at him from the doorway as though he'd just grown several new appendages and done pirouettes naked around the castle grounds on top of that (he shuddered a bit at the thought, mostly because he couldn't think of anyone but Wolfram who might actually be outraged by that).

The creak of the door closing jerked Yuuri quite handily out of his daze, and next thing he knew Wolfram was at the other side of the bed, raising one eyebrow disdainfully at the ruffled black head that continued to blink bemusedly at him. "... Well?"

Yuuri just blinked again, then grinned at him sheepishly, rubbing his aching rump as he hobbled to his feet. "Ehehehe... Ano sa... I didn't think the bed would be that springy."

"Mataku..." Wolfram dug his fingers into his bright yellow hair and shook his head violently in a familiar gesture of exasperation. "Kono hennachoko..."

"Don't call me that!" Yuuri responded automatically, before leaping onto the bed with just as much carelessness as ever, lifting his head and snuffling about with his nose in the air. "Mmm, what's that smell?"

Wolfram gave him a look of pure disbelief, and although Yuuri would normally have protested that condescending glance, his attention was drawn by the clink of silverware and a sudden warmth wafting against his hands. His eyes followed the line of Wolfram's body where the latter had just leant over the bed, down his arms, to where his hands... had just put down a tray in the general disarray that was the sheets. A tray that gave off the loveliest little curls of steam from gleaming dishes that contained everything from jam to scrambled eggs. And everything looked delicious. Yuuri's mouth was already watering by the time he looked up again. "For me?"

"No, for my other idiot fiancé who has bright ideas about pouncing mattresses in the morning," Wolfram grumbled, sliding onto the bed beside him. "Of course it's for you. You were sleeping like a felled boar and about as loudly, so I figured I might as well get our breakfast."

"Hey!" Yuuri sweatdropped at the comparison, but the food had put him in good humor, so it was said half-laughingly as he salivated over the delectable spread. "So, what are we waiting for? Itadakimasu!" No sooner said than done; somewhere around half a moment later, several rolls of bread and most of the jam had disappeared, and crumbs were scattered conspicuously over Yuuri's cheeks. He sighed and took a moment to pat his rapidly filling stomach; ahhh, this was the life. Indeed, one fit for a king. The initial feeding frenzy past, Yuuri turned to his startled fiancé with bright eyes. "Did you make all this, Wolfram?"

The blond threw him a distinct Look. "Do I look like kitchen staff to you?"

He gulped and quickly backtracked, one hand sneaking protectively towards his meal; Wolfram had been known to actively (and violently) give vent to his anger on more than one occasion, "Er...! I--I didn't mean it that way!" His eyes fell on the tray still groaning under the weight of the remaining dishes, the carefully arranged plates of bacon and butter... He imagined Wolfram's disgruntled mutterings as he stomped up flights of stairs carrying it--he could have just had a servant bring it, but the blond had evidently elected to prepare it himself. The young Maou's smile was softer when he looked up again, a warm curve of the lips touched with sunshine. "But hey, thanks. It's delicious."

Wolfram wrenched his eyes away abruptly, turning pink, and Yuuri could only grin--it was amusing, albeit disconcerting, how easily the prince blushed, sometimes. "If I'd waited for you to get up, I would have starved to death!" Wolfram retorted roughly, before grabbing a bread roll and stuffing his face--although he remembered his manners a moment later.

They went through the tray at breakneck speed, Yuuri mostly out of appetite and Wolfram mostly out of embarrassment, but when pretty much all was eaten and done, that left the two of them sitting in relative silence on the bed, their stomachs full and their eyelids heavy under the late morning sun. Yuuri reached out with lazy fingers and snagged the dessert dish, twin slices of blueberry cheesecake beaded with shining moisture and topped with foamy, fluffy mounds of whipped cream. He licked his lips in anticipation--and froze, when he felt a pair of warm arms slip over his shoulders and wrap themselves around his neck, a pointed chin dig itself snugly into his shoulder. He could only choke and sputter, "Wh-Wha--!"

A rustle of sheets, and Wolfram was suddenly so close Yuuri could smell the tang of orange and spice in the golden hair pillowed against his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a hint of silvery lashes and a quivering afterimage of deep, deep green that pulled at him like the echoing darkness down a well; like the calling that always brought him to this world. "You owed me one, Yuuri," Wolfram murmured, his voice low, and then his growl dragged like warm fingers of sun down Yuuri's back, "After yesterday; Günter hogged you all to himself!" With that, the blue-clad arms tightened convulsively, Yuuri was suddenly flailing for air, and the world righted itself again with a quasi-tangible pop.

"Waaah! Wolfram, not so hard, you're choking meeee..." Ever mindful of his fiancé's well-being, Wolfram merely clung tighter, reminding Yuuri remarkably of a well-dressed limpet. He gave a half-strangled, exasperated sigh, and placed his hands over the arms encircling his throat. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? But Günter is really hard to get off when he's like that, you know that!" Kinda like you. And I wish you'd stop acting like we're married! he wailed silently inside his head, although by now Yuuri had the good sense not to actually say that, especially with Wolfram's thumb pressed ominously against his pulse point. "So, can I breathe now? If you don't let me go soon I'm going to suffocate, and you wouldn't want a dead fiancé, would you? Although technically we shouldn't be engaged because I never agreed to it in the first place..." The lack of air was making Yuuri begin to forget his common sense at this point, but Wolfram nevertheless relented and loosened his grip, pulling back a little but leaving his arms draped carelessly over Yuuri's shoulders.

"Hennachoko." He sighed, his breath warm in Yuuri's ear. "I suppose you can be forgiven... this time. Just don't let it happen again!" His fiancé squeaked in agreement, at the same time that the door creaked ajar, and after that there was only the frantic rustle of sheets and the chaotic tinkling of china and silverware, even as Günter poked his head in the door with a big smile and sparkling eyes that widened at the sight of his king.

"Heika! You're awake!" He spared a peevish glance at Wolfram's blond head sticking out from behind Yuuri's shoulder, but nevertheless strode over to the bed with his customary pomp and flair and a flourish of his cape, and, with all the gentlemanly grace he felt was only His Majesty's due, gathered up the tray that had ended up topsy-turvy somewhere in the sheets. "I hope you're ready to pursue your studies with all your might today! But what am I saying? Of course Yuuri-heika would take his studies seriously! Haha!" And he was gone with a swish of cloth and a flick of long lavender hair before anyone could break the lingering silence.

And if the bed was in complete disarray, and both Wolfram and Yuuri were a little flushed and rumpled around the edges, no one was saying anything about it. After all, what His Majesty did in the bedroom was His Majesty's own business...

ende

Started: July 1, 2005
Finished: July 5, 2005

First KKM fic... Written on a whimsy because I was craving some fluff for these two. Was supposed to be a drabble but managed to mutate on me, as fic often seems to do these days. n.n;;; Heh... I don't write much humor-ish stuff. I think it shows.

Anyways, here's to hoping it was somewhat a good read. n.n; Feedback, por favor. :D Thanksu.

--Fyredra