Disclaimer: If I owned KKM, it'd be severely X-rated. Now do you really think I do?
Comments:
My first foray into the KKM fandom. Please R & R. I have only watched till episode 49, so no killing me over anything that happens after that. Anyway, it's set shortly after Yuuri adopted Greta, before Murata Ken came into the big picture. Now I know some people will positively kill me for writing this despite the many WIPs everyone's been bugging me to update. Look, people, I tried, but I couldn't quite find the inspiration to write them, okay? Don't worry, they're not abandoned though. Enjoy this anyway? -;;
italics are thoughts
Dream Me Away From That River In Egypt
"No, you just don't suddenly move into someone's room and expect them to be okay with it!"
"If I've said it once, I've said it a million times! I'm your fiancé; I don't need permission to sleep with you! I have a right to!"
Günther von Kleist choked on his juice at the image that statement wrought in his mind, and quickly grabbed a paper towel from silver holder in the centre of the round wooden dining table to deal with the ensuing nosebleed. The eldest of the three brothers suppressed a sigh and stoically continued with his breakfast. Was this same argument really necessary every morning? If their words were food, just this quarrel alone would feed all of Shin Makoku for a week. He didn't think he could possibly be gladder for the fact that his mother was out on her voyage in search of free love, and Anyssina was always busy in her lab, than he invariably did at this moment every morning. He certainly didn't need anyone to add to his list of migraine triggers.
"It just isn't proper!"
"What's so improper about engaged people sleeping together! Some people cohabitate forever without ever getting married!"
"Well, you can't hold me to eternal retribution over a mistake I didn't even know I was making! I never wanted this engagement in the first place!"
Conrad Weller looked from his younger brother to his king and back again, worriedly noting the blonde's almost imperceptible flinch. Maybe His Majesty had really gone and done it this time.
Yuuri, you idiot… You idiot, you idiot, you idiot…Wolfram von Bielefeld put his fork down to hide the way his hands were shaking with anger… and maybe something more. Was that pain that clenched so tightly at his heart to hear his fiancé's words? "Well, fine then!" He shouted, slamming his hand down on the table hard enough to maybe even leave a handprint on the white linen tablecloth as he rose so violently his heavy wooden chair toppled backwards with a resounding crash. "Since you think it's such a MISTAKE, why don't we just call it OFF, hm!" With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out the door without waiting for a reply he didn't want to hear. You don't know how much you hurt me when you say these things… You don't know how much it hurts…
"Fine!" Shibuya Yuuri answered equally loudly, not taking his onyx eyes off his breakfast. "Best idea I've heard from you in a while!"
Three pairs of eyes shifted their gazes from one to the other arguing party and back again. The Maou simply impaled a sausage with his silver fork and stuffed it into his mouth, apparently impervious to the sudden heavy silence the loud slamming of the heavy wooden door left in the lavish dining hall. Conrad sighed almost inaudibly as everyone except Günther returned their attention to breakfast, the latter worriedly wringing his hands in his lap. Clearly, His Majesty was alone in his oblivion of the quiver in the blond prince's voice as he offered to break the engagement, the brief pause in his step at the king's swift agreement, or the way he clenched his fists before continuing out the door. The brunet had a feeling this argument wasn't going to blow over anytime soon.
"You know, heika, I think you really hurt Wolfram's feelings this time," Conrad began casually as he pitched the ball towards his king during their pre-swordplay-lesson warm-up session later that day.
(Heika- His/Your Majesty)
"Sure explains why he hasn't been following me around today," Yuuri muttered as he deftly caught the ball before pitching it back to his nazukeoya, squinting in the sunlight to watch as the white ball arced up against the backdrop of the clear blue sky.
(Nazukeoya- person who named one)
The brunet remained silent as he caught the ball and pitched it back, waiting for the rant he knew was coming.
"I just don't get him, Conrad!" Yuuri complained, doing the same. "One minute he's upset that I proposed and keeps calling me a wimp, the next he's moved into MY bedroom and getting into unjustified fits of jealousy over the stupidest of things! I can't even get a decent night's sleep with him kicking me off the bed every night, and he can't even take a hint when I lock him out!"
"Come now, for all that his years may indicate otherwise, he IS really little older than yourself, heika. And Wolfram's used to getting everything he wants, so it's only natural that he's rather on the demanding side," the other reasoned.
"Well, he should have said 'no' to the damn proposal at the beginning, knowing full well that I had no idea what I was doing!"
"When you beat him at the duel, you didn't give him a choice," Conrad pointed out calmly.
"It's his fault he demanded a duel in the first place! He could have just asked to call it off!" the young king argued.
"That's not the way the nobility settles such matters in Shin Makoku, heika." The ball passed from one to the other and back again.
"Damn his stupid pride then. It's probably the only reason he waited so long to call it off and keeps trying to impress our engagement upon myself and the rest of world. It'd be just like him to feel that having lost the duel, he's obliged to see this whole ridiculous engagement thing through at the peril of his honour for all time."
"Is it really?"
Yuuri nearly missed catching the ball at that. "Are you seriously implying that he really likes me that way?" he questioned incredulously.
"It's possible," the older man responded evenly. From what he knew of his younger sibling, he was fairly certain the answer was 'yes', but he wasn't about to put words into the blonde's mouth.
Dear God, it's not like Günther's not bad enough alone. The black-haired boy shuddered at the thought. "Well, the engagement's off anyway." He turned the shudder into a shrug.
"It doesn't have to be. It's not officially off yet."
"Huh? What do you mean 'not officially'? How is it official?"
"When you backhand your fiancé across the right cheek," the captain replied, smiling indulgently as always. "The betrothed parties can, of course, verbally declare the engagement on or off at will, but once a proposal has been made and the option of retraction denied, the breaking of the engagement will only be set in stone when the custom of reversal is performed."
The young king's mouth formed a silent 'oh' as he marvelled at the sheer weirdness of his kingdom's customs.
A long silence passed between them as they tossed the ball back and forth between them.
Finally, Conrad asked, "Heika, do you really regret proposing to Wolfram?"
"What—of course I do! We're both guys, and I'm pretty sure I like girls! I'd NEVER have slapped him had I known what I was doing! And stop calling me 'heika', nazukeoya!"
The older man caught the ball his king had pitched with somewhat more force than usual, digging his heels into the sandy ground. "Well, good thing the engagement's off then," he said quietly. "I think it's time to start the day's swordplay lesson."
"What—of course I do! We're both guys, and I'm pretty sure I like girls! I'd NEVER have slapped him had I known what I was doing! And stop calling me 'heika', nazukeoya!"
Wolfram stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of Yuuri's voice. He had been about to ask Yuuri if he seriously wanted to break the engagement and to perform the custom of reversal if such was the case. Just as he was going to turn the corner into the corridor that opened to the courtyard where he knew Conrad would be training Yuuri in swordplay at that time of the day, the king's words had turned his legs to lead and rooted them to the cold stone floor of Blood Pledge Castle. He shook his head bitterly as his vision blurred. How could he ever have thought he had it in him to face the custom of reversal? He scoffed softly, feeling icy claws clench painfully around his heart and pierce it. If he listened hard enough, he could probably even hear it bleeding. He drew a shaky breath, and slowly began to drag his leaden feet back to his own room.
You're so sure you like girls, huh? Fine then. Go find that girl of yours, now that I'm not going to stop you anymore. See which girl would want a wimp like you. Maybe I'll just go find Elizabeth and share the great news of my renewed freedom with her. The blonde prince stepped into a bedroom that was at once familiar, yet foreign. How long had it been since he had last slept in this chamber? He flopped down gracelessly onto the soft pastel pink quilt covering the four-poster queen-sized bed with a heavy sigh. Who am I fooling? If you fall, I'll fall with you… What part of that don't you get, Yuuri? Suddenly very tired, he kicked off his shoes and snuggled under the warm quilt, burying his face in the soft feather pillow. Shortly, he drifted off to sleep, wrapping the blankets more tightly around himself in an unusually cold bed.
"Your Excellency! Your Excellency!" A man cried, bursting through the study's heavy wooden doors.
"What is it, Dorcas?" Gwendal von Walde asked, not looking up from the stack of paperwork on the wooden desk before him.
"It's Sir von Bielefeld, Your Excellency!" the bald soldier answered loudly and stiffly as always.
Indigo eyes rose to rest on the other at the mention of his youngest brother's name.
"He's nowhere to be found, Your Excellency!" Dorcas continued in the same voice. "Lasagna also said a bag and some of his clothes are missing, and his white stallion is gone from the stables too!"
Gwendal frowned as he felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Looks like Yuuri had really gone too far this time, and judging by what he knew of Wolfram's personality, he should have figured something was amiss when the blonde hadn't shown up for meals the previous day. "Get some of the men into a search party. He can't have gone all that far yet," he ordered.
"Yes, Your Excellency!" Dorcas yelled, running off to obey.
The eldest of the three brothers shook his head as he returned his attention to the kingdom's paperwork. Trust Wolfram von Bielefeld to do something so childish and stupid at a time when the humans were preparing for war. Hopefully, he had the sense to go in the direction of their newfound allies. He was definitely going to have some very stern words with the blonde when he was found.
"Well, well, look what we have here…" a man leered in his drawling bass. "If it isn't a pretty little Mazoku noble… How nice of you to come visiting alone…"
Emerald eyes glared up defiantly at the burly brunet bandit. The man's face was scarred and his hazel eyes were cold and hard. He appeared to be in his late thirties. Human. Wolfram's soft lips curled in obvious disdain. "You'll pay for this," he warned.
The outlaw laughed condescendingly. "And what would your Mazoku friends do, huh? Collapse on us and hope they crush us with their weight? Or can you not feel the density of the houseki deposits in the ground beneath us, little demon?" The other thugs in the small, smelly, dirty, stuffy and damp room joined in his laughter.
Of course he could. How else had he been captured so easily? Damn. He should have known better than to wander so near to Svelera. "Ch'," the blonde scoffed. "You'd best hurry and kill me. This won't stop my king."
"Kill you?" The brunet crouched down before him to tap his left cheek with two fingers. "Oh no, that would be far too much of a waste. No, we're gonna sell you to Big Shimaron for a reward, and let them handle that. As for your famous king, what makes you think he'll even come for you anyway, hm?"
"I'm…" I'm his fiancé. "I'm sure he will," the prince declared with as much certainty as he could muster, pushing aside the pain the thought brought him. That wasn't theoretically true anymore. Indeed, was he really so sure Yuuri would come to rescue him? No, this was Shibuya Yuuri they were discussing. The overly kind-hearted boy-turned-monarch would have gone to rescue anyone, even a human stranger he'd never met. That he would come, at least, was beyond doubt. That it would be for the reasons Wolfram would have done the same had their situations been reversed was beyond highly unlikely.
"Well, he'll just add to our reward then."
The blonde Mazoku spit in his captor's face at that, fighting the weakness in his limbs to struggle against his bonds.
"Stupid, insolent demon brat!" the burly man growled angrily, wiping his ugly face off with his sleeve. "Beat him!" he ordered the men holding the prince down.
"Right away, Nebeltoph-sama!" they replied gleefully, brandishing whips and wooden sticks as their leader stalked out to clean himself.
The door had scarcely clicked shut when the blows had begun to rain down upon him, the hard wooden bars leaving a deep bruising pain and the whips cutting mercilessly into his delicate skin. Wolfram bit his lip after the first cry of pain; he hadn't the strength left to scream. He tasted blood in his mouth when a particularly hard blow hit him in the upper back, and wondered if he'd die of internal bleeding at that rate. Well, maybe death wasn't such a bad thing as opposed to having to face the cruelty of Yuuri's indifferent kindness when he came to save him. No matter who it was, the new Maou would treat them all equally kindly… and knowing there was no love behind that gentle concern in his obsidian eyes would just rip the blonde's heart out again. He felt consciousness slipping away from him as he collapsed forward to the filthy cement floor, the pain somehow seeming very far away.
"Yuuri…" he whispered hoarsely. And then, everything went black.
"I'm coming with you."
"Me too! I'm going too!" Greta chirped, her short wavy brown locks bobbing as she bounced on her heels.
"No, heika, just stay behind. It isn't safe for you in human territory nowadays," Günther protested, not adding the silent 'with me' in his thoughts.
"I have to go, Greta. You don't. Stay and keep Günther-san company, will you? Make sure Anyssina-san doesn't kill him before I get back?" Yuuri asked his adopted daughter with a smile.
She pouted even as the advisor in question sparkled brilliantly at his beloved monarch's apparent concern for his well-being.
"We'll bring him back for sure," Gwendal assured the young monarch as he climbed onto his brown stallion.
"See? We'll definitely bring Wolfram back."
She paused, still pouting, but finally relented. "Okay…"
Yuuri smiled happily at her, and gave her a pat on the head, before turning to Gwendal, looking serious. "It's my fault he ran away, isn't it?" Yuuri countered, looking away guiltily. Maybe he had really gone too far this time. Wolfram had never ran off like this before, and truth be told, he actually rather missed the blond prince's spoiled brat behaviour and crazy jealous fits now that the other wasn't following him around. He appeared to have gotten used to the annoyance; he kept half expecting the possessive yelling whenever he even spoke to one of the maids around the castle. "I don't want to be the kind of king who runs away from his mistakes and shirks off the responsibility of making amends onto others." Well, that and the fact that the idea of staying here alone with Günther fills me with great apprehension, he added silently.
Conrad smiled indulgently. "Well, since you put it that way…"
Günther clasped his hands together and practically glowed. "Ah, heika! You've again dazzled me with your strength! You're turning into a wonderful king, Maou heika!" he gasped.
Yuuri quickly clambered onto his black mare to avoid the strangling hug he knew was coming. "Do we know where he went?" he asked, sheepishly changing the subject to bring his violet-haired advisor back to Shin Makoku.
It was Gwendal who answered him. "A messenger pigeon arrived half an hour back. Yozak says he spotted Sir von Bielefeld in a village near Svelera, when he was on his way back from said city. It appears that the brat's been captured by human bandits." Sir von Walde's tone showed just what he thought of his youngest brother's folly.
His other brother's brow creased slightly in worry. "The ground near Svelera is filled with houseki deposits."
Houseki deposits. The new Maou's eyes widened in alarm. He remembered the effect the houseki had on all the pure-blooded Mazoku. Wolfram… The blonde was probably in a lot of pain right now. And it was all his fault. "We… We'd better hurry."
The party rode off in the appropriate direction, led by their suddenly very worried king.
"Wolfram."
The blond noble cracked an emerald eye open at the sound of a familiar wimp's voice. The bed was soft beneath his body, and the room dim, illuminated only by the bright moonlight shining in through the large window he was facing. The bed? Last I remembered… I was… Warm arms wrapped around his waist suddenly, cutting off his train of thought, and then soft kisses were being pressed to his jaw. He closed his eyes to savour the sensation, when he suddenly snapped back to his senses and jerked away, roughly pushing the black-haired king away from him as he scrambled to the far corner of the bed he'd been sharing with the monarch ever since shortly after the fateful slap. "What in Shinou's name do you think you're doing!" he very nearly shrieked.
The other blinked at him, seemingly confused and frustrated. "I don't get you, Wolfram. Isn't this what you've always wanted?"
Yuuri… It couldn't be… He wouldn't… He HAD said he liked girls… It has to be an impostor, Wolfram thought frantically. Yeah, an impostor. But just as he was about to shout for the guards, he looked at his (former?) fiancé again. Really looked. No, it was most definitely Yuuri, he decided. No one else could get that balance of melancholy and determination just the purely Yuuri way it reflected in his midnight eyes. No one else could ever manage that somewhat demanding look with a sheepish wimpy smile still on his face, the juxtaposed combination of shyness and lust, as the black-haired youth reached out to pull him closer.
"Wolfram?" the other enquired with mild concern as a warm hand closed around his wrist. Yes, he was certain it was Yuuri now; no one else could or would say his name with that foreign accent from the young king's home world. "Is everything…" He tugged gently at Wolfram's wrist. "Come back?" he tried, whispering the words tentatively.
The blonde bit his bottom lip uncertainly. Yuuri had to be playing games with him. It couldn't be real. He felt anger well up at the thought. Anger and pain. "Stop it! Bad enough that you've dishonoured me for life! Now you want to destroy all vestiges of pride and self-respect I have left! Get away from me; just.. just stay away!" he yelled, roughly shaking the other's hand off and swiftly sliding off the bed to storm his way out the door. Never mind that he was only dressed in a nightgown; the safety of his own bedroom was just down the hall. His eyes stung as his feet padded over the warm fur of the wine red carpet, and he blinked fiercely. Damn. He wasn't about to cry in front of that bloody wimp. He slipped into his slippers, and prepared to run for it.
"Wolfram, wait."
He lunged for the door. Even indifferent kindness or sympathy he could tolerate. This was beyond cruel. It was a sick, sick joke.
"That's an order," Yuuri called out, his voice high-pitched from anxiety as he quickly moved to follow the prince, now frantic enough to use his power as the Maou. Just when he'd decided that maybe he'd give their relationship a shot, so they could stop arguing and hurting each other. Just when he'd realized how utterly beautiful his fiancé looked sleeping in the moonlight beside him as he awoke here, and suddenly wanted to give him a chance. Just when he'd finally come to terms with the fact that being gay wasn't absolutely impossible, Wolfram was suddenly being difficult. He really didn't get the guy. As the blonde paused momentarily, debating whether or not to obey, Yuuri quickly grabbed him around the waist to keep him leaving before he could finish considering. "Wolfram…"
"Don't. I can't believe you'd even stoop to using your power to play this sick and cruel joke on me." Damn, all chances of leaving gone now that it was the Maou's order that he stay, and disobeying meant treason and further dishonour, and he couldn't even stop himself from crying in front of the wimp. Shit. He squeezed his eyes shut, hopefully against the tears that threatened to fall, but failed to keep the drops of saline from falling. "Just don't." He relaxed, leaning into the embrace as the other buried his face in flaxen strands to inhale the scent of cinnamon and bergamot. It was just too cruel, but the Maou's orders were absolute, and running away was no longer an option. Maybe he could just pretend for a while, make believe it was love just for tonight.
"I'm not playing a joke on you. Do you really think so badly of me? Why are you suddenly being like this, Wolfram? I… I just thought… m-maybe we could try this… whole e-engagement relationship out… 'cause I… I just… I just suddenly realized how b-beautiful you looked lying there asleep…" Yuuri's soft voice stammered in sad confusion and trailed off in mild embarrassment behind him, muffled slightly by his hair.
"I… I thought…" he continued in the same bewildered, dejected tone. "I thought that maybe… maybe it was possible, so… I mean, sometimes I know this is supposed to happen, but then it's usually hard for me to understand why it upsets you so much when it doesn't, 'cause back where I come from, this kind of thing is taboo, and I just never thought it was possible to like another guy before… and then suddenly I'm told that I have to be king in this new world where it's supposed to be normal, and engaged to another guy before I've even had time to process the myriad of new information piling onto me… all because I hit someone the wrong way and then picked up the wrong piece of bloody silverware… not to mention that one of my mentors can't pass a day without his nose bleeding over some imaginary vision of me doing things I don't even want to think about… I…" He shook his head in frustration.
"Wolfram, I… I've only ever been an average dorky high school kid whose only talent, if that can be counted as one, is playing baseball… I don't know how to be a king. I've never even been on a date before, let alone have a girlfriend… I don't know how to deal with suddenly having a fiancé with a jealous wife syndrome. I always thought I'd grow up, become an ordinary salaryman working in some generic company, marry an ordinary girl, and start a normal family with two kids to teach baseball to… the next thing I know, I've been flushed down the TOILET into a world where everyone says I'm supposed to be the great king of the powerful Mazoku, but I don't feel any different and I just don't know how! I… Wolfram? Are you…" Yuuri asked, his ramblings forgotten in his concern at the sudden sniffle from the blond boy. "What's wrong? What did I do? What did I say? Why are you crying?" he questioned further anxiously, stepping forward to look at the prince, onyx eyes filled with apologetic concern.
"I'm not crying, you wimp, dammit," Wolfram denied fiercely through gritted teeth, clenching his fists and turning away to hide his tearstained cheeks. Thank you very much for breaking my heart and then making me feel like a total insensitive unreasonable jerk about it, he thought bitterly.
"I'm sorry! Whatever it is that I said or did; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm sorry… Wolfram?" The young monarch inched closer. "I want…" He leaned up to press a soft kiss to the fair-haired youth's smooth cheek, gently chafing away the moist and salty trail there, before blushing shyly. "I… W-will you let me try?"
The noble slid his eyes shut, and swallowed thickly, but did not resist when the other tugged him by the wrist in the direction of the bed with a whispered 'come back?'. He could never refuse his king anything. He sat down on the soft mattress, still refusing to look the other boy in the face. "Tell me," he began quietly, even as a hand slipped under his pastel pink nightgown to trace a caress up his inner thigh. "If we do this… and you realize that you're… you can't… What are you going to do?"
Yuuri paused, his hand stilled. He hadn't quite thought about it. "I… I don't know," he confessed sadly. "I… Well… Whatever you think is best, I suppose… If marriage will save your honour, I'll still marry you… and maybe get a second wife on the pretence of potentially needing an heir or something… I…"
"Stop. Shut up," he interrupted, grabbing the dark-haired boy's wrist to bring his hand higher up, pressing the tentative fingers to his perineum, biting back a gasp in response to being touched for the first time in such an intimate place. He couldn't bear to hear another word; he didn't want to know. The young king's inquisitive fingers curled experimentally in a stroking motion against the sensitive flesh through the tight black thong traditionally worn by the nobility of Shin Makoku, eliciting a shuddery whimper from his flaxen-haired partner who cursed his body's treacherous response. "Just… Just touch me," he bit out with a moan of mixed pain and arousal, his grip around the other's wrist tightening enough to hurt. When Yuuri pressed in again, he had to repress a sharp cry of passion, the speed with which his blood had gushed downwards leaving him very hard and slightly light-headed. This was so not the way he'd imagined his first time.
Pain. Everything was tangled in a mind-numbing haze of pain as he cracked open one green eye. He tasted blood in his mouth, felt dust covering his parched lips from the dirty cement floor he was sprawled on. The air smelt dank, and the stench of sweat, blood, tears, urine and semen permeated it. It vaguely registered through the pain that he was covered in the same fluids, and was immediately filled with a sense of grave disgust. He couldn't move… even being conscious was an unspeakable agony. They'd probably broken some bones, caused some internal damage, and maybe… did worse after taking his clothes and before dressing him in these dirty rags. He didn't want to think about it. The houseki all around was causing him additional suffering by suppressing his maryoku; he couldn't even heal himself.
A dream… Heh. I should have known. It was all too good to be real… The wimp would never… Wolfram thought bitterly, sliding his eye shut again. Shinou… What did I ever do to deserve this?
Shibuya Yuuri awoke with a start to the sight of unfamiliar surroundings. He was mildly disoriented before recalling that he was in an inn en route to the village Wolfram was supposedly in. The sheets and his clothes were drenched in sweat thanks to the dream he'd just had. His pyjama pants were also a mess.
Oh, shit.
He was certain he'd never be more thankful that no one else was in the room than he was at that very moment. He couldn't imagine waking up in the state he was in next to Wolfram. It would entail far too many embarrassing explanations. Even the thought of telling the blonde he'd just had a wet dream about him made him blush tomato-red. But all things aside, he rather regretted the fact that it had all been a dream. Just when he'd finally told Wolfram everything he'd ever wanted to say, it wasn't even real. The only benefit of the dream was that it had effectively solved his sexuality dilemma. Maybe he wasn't really gay, but he now knew that he definitely could like his fiancé that way. The young king slid off the bed and tugged his pants off, using it to wipe himself clean before tossing it aside and returning to the bed. He sighed. He seriously owed the blond prince an apology.
Bandits scattered as Conrad's men charged into their village. Upon hearing of the location, they had chosen to take more of Conrad's soldiers as they were half-human and had no maryoku. Thus, they would be unaffected by the houseki all around the area. Gwendal and the few members of his personal guard that had come along hung back, surrounding Yuuri, who rode between the two brothers as usual. As per Yuuri's orders, they only attacked when the opposition did so, but since the outlaws started attacking them on sight, things soon escalated into a full-fledged skirmish.
Naturally, the bandits were no match for Conrad's better-armed, better-trained, and war-hardened militia. So it was that they equally naturally resorted to threat. When they arrived at a clearing in the middle of the village, a burly brunet who appeared to be the leader of the thugs stood in the centre, flanked by some of his men, with a long sword in his hand —Wolfram's sword, they all recognized at once— pointed at the throat of… it's owner.
Yuuri stared in abject horror and shock at his fiancé. The semi-conscious blonde was covered in bruises, cuts, blood and dirt, and looked like he could barely breathe, let alone move. The bunch of thieves had clearly taken his clothes as well, judging by the torn rags on the prince's body. His mouth went dry at the sight, even as his blood ran cold. There was shock, and a kind of panicked terror. He was fairly certain the bratty Mazoku noble was going to die if nothing medical was done immediately. He felt very far away from everything; it just couldn't be real. And then there was rage, pure unadulterated rage, mind-numbing and ferocious in the intensity of its inferno burning his blood and soul.
Clearly, no one expected to see Wolfram like that. Conrad and Gwendal had barely gotten over their shock and trauma at seeing their brother in that condition when the bandit leader began speaking. "You will all pay us what--"
He never got the chance to finish his sentence when he was rudely and horribly interrupted by a powerful bolt of lightning. Well, no one expected Yuuri to snap that quickly either. Humans panicked upon seeing their leader burnt to a crisp. Even the Mazoku ran for cover this time as the sky darkened ominously and thunder rumbled fiercely. The force of their king's wrath could be felt in the violence of his maryoku as Yuuri's hair lengthened and he floated off his black horse towards where the leader's ashes still lay in a neat pile. Normally kind black eyes grew hard and catlike, and even his posture and bearing changed completely. The Maou's true nature was out now, and he was positively livid.
"For your own selfish greed, you incur the suffering of others. Taking from the weak to indulge your own desires, you have left many helpless in your wake. It is not my way to take lives, but your actions are unforgivable!" the deep voice thundered with fury. The lightning bolts began raining down even before he had finished speaking.
"Wait, heika, Wol--" Conrad started to warn, only to notice that the matter had already been taken care of. The now completely unconscious blonde prince was encased in a shield of pure maryoku, well-protected from the lightning storm around him. Well, that's new, thought the half-blooded prince with a small smile. The Maou's never done shielding before. Suddenly, he felt very much like chuckling despite the severity of the situation. Even the ending to his speech was different today. Normally, Maou heika has no choice. Now it's considered unforgivable. Conrad didn't think anyone would be backhanding anyone across the right cheek anytime soon.
Monarch in question eyed his handiwork from above with a look of sadistic satisfaction as the lightning bolts burned the word 'Justice' into the ground after they were done making short work of all remaining thugs. Evidently pleased with himself, he hovered slowly back to the ground, and declared justice served before all the maryoku routinely vanished abruptly, and his hair returned to its original length. Conrad rushed forward to catch Yuuri before he collapsed forward as usual, but stopped short as somehow, Yuuri managed to stagger over to Wolfram's side, drop to his knees, and carefully reach out to touch the blonde's cheek.
"Wolfram?" he asked gently. "Are you alright?"
The prince stirred slightly at the light touch, cracking open an unfocused bloodshot emerald eye to look up at his fiancé, not really seeing, but recognizing the other boy's presence anyway. Somehow, he found a small smile on cracked parched lips for the other. "Yu-Yuuri…" he whispered hoarsely.
The dark-haired boy blinked back tears, and tried very, VERY hard not to tell his suddenly not-so-annoying spoilt brat of a fiancé that if this was what would happen every time he refused to marry him, he'd marry the blonde a million times over, knowing that Wolfram would definitely take it the wrong way anyway. Not knowing what to do as relief flooded his system at seeing the other alive and too exhausted to bother thinking on it, he simply offered the other a relieved smile before finally giving in to fatigue and passing out beside him.
The bed was soft beneath him, and the brown woollen blankets were warm. Yuuri blinked up at the dim yellow light illuminating the bedroom, experiencing the mild disorientation he always felt when waking up after turning into the Maou. The white ceiling and room's austere layout was familiar. They were in the inn they had stayed in on the way to rescue Wolfram again. Wolfram. He turned to find the blonde lying beside him, still unconscious. He had clearly been cleaned up and given some form of preliminary medical treatment, but it would be another day before they arrived at Blood Pledge Castle where he could see Gisela.
He sat up slowly, not wanting to wake the prince, and reached out to tug the blankets back so he could see the extent of the remaining injuries. He blushed slightly upon realizing that doing so would entail unbuttoning the other's shirt a little. He undid the first three buttons carefully so as not to wake the sleeping blonde. From what he could see, the cuts and bruises had begun to heal, but somehow, he knew that the internal damage the injuries had caused were probably worse, and had been aggravated by the prolonged lack of medical help. The houseki even prevented him from using maryoku to heal some of his wounds.
The young king wanted to laugh at himself at the thought that Wolfram was still beautiful in this state, looking especially cute in his brother's much-too-big white button-down shirt. It really wasn't the time to be admiring the blond prince's beauty. He shook his head ruefully; he was hopeless. Just how had he ever managed to fool himself about his feelings for his fiancé?
He lay down again, not bothering to button the shirt, and reached for the other's hand. After that pink frilly semi-translucent thing he called a nightgown, he really didn't think a few buttons would make any difference to Wolfram. Taking it in his own carefully, he let his fully-recovered maryoku flow into the other in the healing magic Gisela had shown him. He slid his eyes shut, and was rather fascinated by the fact that he could almost see the energy, Wolfram's a fiery red, and his a cool blue, both working on healing the damage done to the prince's body. Instinctively, he reached out for those strands of red light with his own power, caressing them with his mind, and watched them shimmer more brightly for a moment.
Slowly, he slipped a strand of his own maryoku into the pulsing flow, the thread of blue sliding in amongst the red. Gradually, he added more strands, even beginning to blend the red and blue threads of light together. He marvelled at the ease with which the blonde's maryoku had accommodated and adjusted to the presence of his own, and poured almost all of his substantial maryoku into the healing spell, watching in fascination as the pulse of healing energy glowed the spell's brilliant green then. He squeezed the delicate hand in his own affectionately, suddenly feeling tired all over again. Pushing more power into the spell, he fell asleep again, the blonde's hand still in his own.
"Wolfram von Bielefeld."
"Aniue," the blonde acknowledged quietly. He could walk now, although he was still in some pain. He suspected that his quick recovery over the last two days had something to do with the fact that Yuuri seemed to be sleeping a lot recently, and generally always when he wasn't asleep himself. He felt touched that Yuuri would use up his maryoku that way several times a day, and promptly cursed first himself, then the king in question. Dammit, why be so nice when you don't really care? It only hurts more, he thought bitterly.
"That was the most irresponsible thing you've ever done in your life!" Gwendal began his rant. "Do you have any idea how dangerous hostile human territory is these days? You should know better than to run off on your own like that! You've endangered not only your own life, but Maou heika's as well. Do you know how many assassination attempts Conrad and I stopped on the way to save you! You know his life is a loss you can never repay." Even if you are my brother, he added mentally.
Wolfram's eyes widened slightly at that although he kept his gaze on the floor. Yuuri nearly died saving me. "I… I was irresponsible, emotional, irrational, arrogant, and foolish," he confessed softly. "I'm prepared to receive any punishment." Why are my eyes stinging? Dammit, I shouldn't care so much. He doesn't care. Why die for someone who won't do the same for you, Wolfram? He blinked fiercely, and bit his lip to fight the tears that were threatening to well up again.
"You're pretty good at analyzing your faults, as always. Very well, you…"
"No!" Yuuri burst into the room, yelling. "You're not punishing him for anything!"
Gwendal's eye twitched. Conrad, you told him. I just know you did. It was just totally Yuuri to interfere. He never punished anyone. No, not even the assassins who tried to kill him. Hell, he'd even adopted one.
"Let it be, Y-heika," the blonde interjected quietly without looking at the young king, forcing himself to use the formality. "I was irresponsible; I deserve it."
The word sounded foreign to his ears. Wolfram had never addressed him as 'heika' before. It was always either 'wimp' or 'Yuuri'. It felt hollow somewhere inside. "You… You haven't recovered completely. Punishment will worsen your injuries," he protested, keeping his tone even.
"There are many different kinds of punishment, heika," the other countered, wishing the dark-haired boy would stop with his false affections. Stop leading me on if it's not love to you. Don't you know you're only salting the wounds?
Was it his imagination or did Wolfram's voice sound shaky today? "Fine, have it your way," he agreed, taking a step towards his fiancé. "Only it'll be postponed till you're medically fit for it. All punishments are taxing. Otherwise they wouldn't be punishments. Oh, and I'll decide the punishment later on," he added as an afterthought. Well, better me than anyone else. It's my fault, after all. He shouldn't have to be punished. He didn't really cause any real harm…
"Stop it…" Wolfram clenched his fists, a drop escaping his eyelid. "Stop it! Stop pretending to care!" He looked up at Yuuri angrily, tears falling freely now. "You like girls, don't you! Well, go find one! Break the damn engagement for good, and stop making my life harder!"
Yuuri blinked. Then, in one quick movement, he grabbed the blonde by the wrist, and dragged him out of Gwendal's study. "A private word in my room… and that's an order," he added before the prince could protest. He led the other along the few corridors between the study and his room, and locked the door behind him as he entered. Catching the blonde as he stumbled from a sudden burst of weakness and pain, he unthinkingly reached up to brush away the tears on the fair-haired boy's cheeks.
"What do you want now?" Wolfram whispered softly, wishing he had the strength to stand without the monarch's help, so that he wouldn't need to be in such close proximity with said king. Yuuri helped him to the bed, and he sat down on the pastel blue quilt, leaning against the mahogany bedpost and silently cursing his own weakness as he avoided obsidian eyes. "Just break the engagement, and get it over with. You don't--"
A backhand across the right cheek and a slap across the left one in quick succession cut him off abruptly. "Fine, that engagement is over. Now, Wolfram, will you marry me?"
The blonde just stared at him gaping, stunned speechless. A long moment of shocked silence later, he finally managed, "But… didn't you say… you like girls..?"
Yuuri nodded. "Yeah, but I love you. See… I've finally figured things out," he explained with a shy sheepish smile.
I love you. Those three words were going to ring in his mind for all eternity. "Shinou-sama…" he whispered, sliding his eyes shut slowly. This had better not be a dream. The last one was bad enough; I don't think I could bear to wake up from this one.
The dark-haired boy moved without thinking then, swiftly pressing his lips inexpertly to his fiancé's, which parted easily to him. Reaching up to cup the prince's cheek in his hand, he tentatively slid his tongue into the other's mouth like he had learned from a recent dream. Wolfram tasted of the pork steak he'd eaten for brunch. He had to break off the kiss to giggle at the thought.
"No, I… You…" he tried to explain through the giggles as his flaxen-haired fiancé glowered murderously at him. "No, don't misunderstand. It's just… I… You… Pork steak," he managed at last, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks.
It finally clicked in the other's head what he was laughing about, and most of the heat left the emerald green gaze, leaving a rather miffed Wolfram. "What, you ate that thing you call 'tong-cart-zoo' as well, and I'm not complaining, you wimp!" he protested indignantly, half-heartedly giving Yuuri a light punch to the shoulder.
The young king laughed a bit more, nestling close to the other to rest his head on the blonde's slender shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of the cornflower blue suit the other always wore against his cheek. How many times had he woken up screaming in shock with his head on the prince's lap? He shook his head slightly at himself. "I'm not a wimp, nor was I complaining," he responded gently, tilting his head up to press a chaste kiss to his beautiful fire demon's chin even as an arm wound around him. "And it's 'tonkatsu'. If you're gonna say it, at least don't butcher it so badly."
(Tonkatsu - deep-fried breaded pork fillet, Japanese cuisine)
Wolfram chose to ignore that, and they sat for a while in comfortable silence. Then the dinner bell rang. Yuuri slid off the bed, and held a hand out to the emerald-eyed boy invitingly.
"Dinner?"
Wolfram smiled slightly, and reached for the other's hand. Another bout of weakness overtook him suddenly as he stood, and he felt his knees buckle. In an instant, Yuuri's arms were around his waist to support him. He swore. This was ridiculous. Out of the blue there was a familiar warmth. The dark-haired boy was healing him; it felt pleasant, and he inched closer to rest his head on his beloved's shoulder, closing bright green eyes as he buried his face in the smooth black cloth. "You really were healing me every time I slept, weren't you?" he asked quietly.
"You expected me to watch you suffer or die?" came the equally quiet response.
"No, you would have done the same for anyone."
"Note that I left Geigen Huber to Gisela," Yuuri muttered.
"Thank you." Even if this is the last time you treat me special.
The monarch smiled. "Feeling up to dinner?" he invited again, ending the healing spell temporarily.
Wolfram nodded, and they left the chamber, Yuuri keeping his right arm around the blonde's waist just in case as they made their way to the private dining hall. Everyone was already there when they arrived, Conrad smiling indulgently as always, Gwendal with his fixed mask of stoicism, Günther practically glowing with happiness, and Greta already in the middle of a running glomp towards them. Yuuri smiled and caught his adopted daughter in a hug as she laughed cheerfully.
"Wolfram's back!" she chirped, joy in every word.
The new Maou nodded. "Have you been a good girl, Greta?"
She giggled. "Well, Günther-san is still alive," she pointed out, barely above a whisper.
Her adoptive father chuckled slightly at that. "True," he agreed, giving her an affectionate pat on her head as she turned to hug Wolfram instead.
"Heika, it appears that the leader of the bandits was Mazoku," Conrad began conversationally.
That effectively cut off Günther's fanboyism as the violet-eyed man turned to more serious matters. "We found this in his ashes." He showed the king the half-centimetre-wide platinum ring he had placed in the small box he was holding even as the boy flinched at the mention of the ashes. It was adorned with two kinds of jewels, an emerald green one cut in a square slightly wider than the metal band and set between two smaller squares of sapphire blue gems. "The Maseki on it protect the wearer from the effects of houseki and inhibiting houjutsu. We're going to put it in the treasury with all the other magical items you've brought back, heika."
Houseki? Inhibiting houjutsu? "No, wait. I have a better use for it." Everyone watched questioningly as he took the ring from the little box, and looked at it for a moment. Then he turned to Wolfram. "Back where I come from, it's customary to give someone a ring when you propose to them, and… And by accepting the ring, they accept the proposal." He blushed beet red, but valiantly continued. "I don't think there could be a better or more suitable ring for you than this one." He looked away shyly. "Um, well, you didn't really answer my earlier question…"
Wolfram just stared in silence, obviously flabbergasted. "I… Oh." His green eyes glistened with immeasurable happiness then. "Well," he said primly, straightening and looking away as he extended his hand. "I suppose a wimp like you really does need me to protect him all his life…"
"Um," Yuuri began, still not looking directly at Wolfram, and turning redder if that were even possible. "It's supposed to be worn on the left hand."
It was Wolfram's turn to blush this time as he extended his other hand. "Just get it over with, you wimp," he muttered, embarrassed.
The dark-haired boy slid the ring onto his fiancé's fourth finger. As expected of a magical ring, it immediately shrunk to fit its new wearer's slender digit. The pair shared a bashful glance, and blushed some more. It was Greta who broke the somewhat awkward silence. "Yay!" she shouted happily. "Now may I call Wolfram 'mother'?" she chirped the question cheekily.
"You certainly will NOT!" Wolfram retorted indignantly, much to everyone's mirth.
"Well, actually, you can for a week," Yuuri corrected.
The blonde gave him a chastising look, which he conveniently ignored.
"I was supposed to decide his punishment," he continued. "Well, there it is, Wolf. Your punishment will be having Greta call you 'mother' for a week," he announced way too cheerfully, in Wolfram's opinion, to more laughter from everyone else.
"Well, shall we begin dinner, heika?" Conrad asked with his ever-indulgent smile, when everyone had finished laughing at both the sudden nickname and the chosen punishment.
Yuuri nodded. "Yeah, I'm hungry," he agreed, and took his fiancé's left hand in his right one to lead him to the round dining table.
Everyone took their seats around the table, and the maids began serving the first course of the meal. Wolfram glanced at Yuuri when he felt the other give his hand a brief affectionate squeeze. The dark-haired boy smiled warmly at him, and suddenly, just as everyone began eating their delicious dinner, Wolfram thought that everything was right with the world.
-Owari-
So what do you think of my first one-shot and the first fic I've written that managed to stay below the R rating? XD Please review!