A/N: Uuuhhh...sorry it took so long to update? I've got school and lots of reports to make out and send off. v.v; The life of a high schooler has tackled me down like old man winter, not to mention the lovely distraction of RPing, and the anxiety of the last episode coming out...ah! Spoiler, most sorry! -zips mouth- Well, I hope this works out as funny as I plotted it in my mind... And I'm sorry for the suckof it, but...eh. XD I just kinda...slapped it together when ideas strike me.And, why, yes, I do come up with these titles on a random whim, thank you...

Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own Kyou Kara Maou! If I did... -pervy thoughts-

Chapter 4: Clean Up This Mess NOW!

Thoughts were racing through his mind as he stared up at the pretty blonde kid who was currently growling in a very homicidal sort of way, using a spare napkin to wipe the remainders of what had once been a very good iced frappucino. The loss of which Yuuri had no time to mourn, because there was the all too abrupt separation between the young King and his heterosexuality to contemplate. Why would Shouri do this to me? A nasty tempered princess, okay! A not too comely girl, or even a girl like our mother! Those things would be fine! But a BOY!

Yuuri could think of a million other things he'd rather be engaged to, rather than a boy. Especially a very pretty boy, dressed in girl's clothes, and who looked very much like he was going to kill him. Yuuri had every right to be angry, in his opinion. After all, he was a king. He was a ruler, and he should've had a say in this in the first place! Not only that, but it was unfair to the boy before him - his f-...f-...f-...his...well, the one Shouri said he'd m-...m-...the one in front of him, dammit! - because the way he glared spoke volumes of how irritated he was and how badly Yuuri would surely be killed when the honeymoon came.

Not like there was going to be one, anyway.

And yet, immediately after his outburst and this Wolfram wiped his face clean and angrily tossed the soggy napkin to the side, Yuuri felt all his indignity and disbelief drain a little. Maybe he felt bad for spitting in his face. After all, it was rude, bratty prince or no.

Or perhaps it was just because Yuuri had a strange inkling that if he at least didn't apologize, he wasn't going to be leaving this coffee shop in tact.

"S-sorry..." Slowly, he pulled himself upright, and ducked his head in a fashion similar to a guilty puppy.

The green-eyed prince continued to scowl a bit longer, before he sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes sassily. Yuuri took this a sign that all was well, and he could rightly jump on the train heading straight for that big river in Africa. "You're joking, though! You've got to be! My brother KNOWS I'm not - well, that I... I don't like boys! Well, friends are fine, but not as - as - as - well, to marry! I mean, after all, its ridiculous and--"

A well-thrown napkin, cold and smelling thickly of mocha hit Yuuri in the face and stopped his rambling.

"I do NOT joke! I'm a Fallen Angel, wimp, and I'll have you know I speak only the truth! That...that man set us up, along with my own brother!" And Wolfram still felt the sting of betrayal for that.

The harsh reminder of their opposing races - and the wars that went along with such memories - hit Yuuri much harder than a brick. The black-haired boy had the grace to look down a little, but not for the reason Wolfram had assumed. Bad things were happening now, in their original world, and many political reasons weighed on this marriage. For a moment, Yuuri pondered if risking the land for his future love life was worth it. Immediately, he decided it wasn't. If marrying Wolfram was going to bring peace to their lands, he'd do it. And he'd just about decided that he would look the boy in the eye, and tell him that he was fine with it, when a sudden flash and brown hair and a rich voice whispered in his mind. A request, to go through with this not for the sake of duty, but for the sake of the heart.

Wolfram sure had a kind brother, Yuuri surmised a bit belatedly, as he finally lifted his eyes to look at the prince before him. He probably wouldn't mind being engaged to Conrad right about now...

But instead, it was this blonde. This blonde who sat with his back straight, arms crossed stiffly before his narrow chest which was puffed out just a bit as if to emphasize his indignity. And though his head was turned to the side, nose quite high in the air and wavy golden curls tossed back and out of his face for the moment, even Yuuri could notice that the blonde seemed nervous. He was a bit too straight, that just made every occasional shift stick out that much more. That made the way he constantly cracked an emerald eye open and then quickly closed it and tried to play it off as if nothing ever happened by just sniffing in disdain. For a fleeting moment, Yuuri couldn't help but realize the boy really was doing justice to the Fallen Angel race. After all, angels are supposed to be beautiful complete with their own radiance and holy light, right? And even if Wolfram's light was coming in through the window, Yuuri couldn't help but at least admit to himself the boy was stunning like that. For a swift second, Yuuri wondered how Wolfram would look with his wings out. And then it hit him that Wolfram didn't even have them now. Which was odd, as he was sure that Angel could not retract their wings at will. Then he decided, after this mess was cleared, he'd ask Wolfram if he could see the other boy's wings. After all, if Wolfram was this pretty without them, then with them, he would be a positively breath-taking sight.

Not that it'd make Yuuri any more attracted to him, because he just did not like boys!

And Wolfram continued to frown; though subtle changes in the boy's features had eventually turned that frown into a pout of disappointment.

Yuuri decided that Wolfram must've disliked him. This marriage wasn't going to work out.

And besides, Yuuri didn't like boys. No matter how pretty. He told himself that several times, before launching quickly into another campaign to convince anyone listening - namely the blonde before him - that this had been a bad idea from the start. No matter that he was trying to get along earlier.

"...And you don't like boys either, right? So why are we engaged? It makes no sense! Why did Shouri do this to meee? I mean, you're pretty true and... And that's another reason why we can't go through this! I mean, think of how I'd feel! Being married to a boy that far cuter than I am! My inferiority complex would grow! You'll get more girls! Hell, you're pretty enough to be a girl and then you'd get more boys! Not like I care but--"

And that was about all that Wolfram could take. The long ramblings, the blonde could tolerate. And though it did frustrate him that Yuuri simply could not pick up on the few hints Wolfram tossed out that he was just the slight bit willing to go through with this - for duty and honor, mind you - it was only further adding to his frustrations when Wolfram realized he wouldn't mind. After all, he was supposed to. Not only was he sullying his bloodline with that of the demon king, but also it was a man and Wolfram...

Well, Wolfram never really swung either way, if he reflected on it. As a child, he'd watched his mother go through men without ever really settling, and seen the hidden loneliness in her eyes. Her boys were her only solace, but work kept her from seeking them, or vice versa. But he knew that his brothers all had different fathers, and all it took was for a little mind power to connect the dots. His mother could never settle, and that was why her marriages failed, or why she left of her own accord. Her feelings were never very strong for the suitors she took, and that was the cause of her pain. Wolfram decided he did not want to suffer in that way, and learned the lesson his mother should've. If ever Wolfram were to find a potential spouse, he'd cling and leech and never let go, letting his passion burn forever. In return, Wolfram decided he wanted everything his mother should've been: complete and utter faith, trust, and undivided love.

Which, was Yuuri continued to ramble on, Wolfram was finding severely lacking in his new fiancé. The boy couldn't even say the word after learning of their engagement, especially when he was the one who seemed to eager for it in the first place! And suddenly, he's rejected? Suddenly, Yuuri decides that everything he seemed to want so badly just wasn't what he was looking for, merely because of gender! Wolfram would not take that sitting. And he most definitely wouldn't take Yuuri's random accusations of cheating - when they weren't even officially a couple in the first place, but let's ignore that detail - not to mention his wild throwing of insults and compliments in a neat little ball.

And so, Wolfram stood up abruptly, causing the chair to clatter noisily to the ground. He didn't care that they seemed to have garnered an audience at this point. Let that hairless freak at the counter or those businessmen stare at them. Wolfram would not stand for this insult. Instead, with one hand in a tight fist at his side, he jabbed his other in Yuuri's direction, a finger pointing accusingly right in his face.

"CHEATER!"

And Yuuri promptly shot back, "...eh?"

"You heard me! I said you were a CHEATER! I come all the way here, only to be accused of being too girly and you claiming to have OTHERS on your mind, and get REJECTED! Have you no shame, wimp? Have you no sense of tact, no sense or honor, no nobility running through your filthy blood?" As he talked, the blonde rounded the table, his fist clenching and unclenching, finger still pointed at Yuuri.

Yuuri stared cross-eyed at the digit before him, his mind shutting down completely as the blonde ranted. For a brief second, Yuuri figured people were getting the wrong idea, and opened his mouth to try and calm the blonde down, explain to him they were making a scene and people were definitely not thinking rightly about the two, and they should just talk things out. And by talk things out, he meant he'd bring up more points on why they shouldn't be engaged, Conrad's words most definitely included, and have Wolfram utterly agree with him.

Instead, Wolfram was already standing and coming closer to him. Obsidian eyes lifted, looking up at the pale ones on the face of the angry feminine teen. They sparkled and shone - and though most would've found it rather attractive, Yuuri could only see the murder in them. Wolfram, he concluded, was going to rip him apart and drink his blood. If angels like him did drink blood. He'd rather not find out. And so, Yuuri did the most sensible thing anyone in his position would've done.

He bolted.

Years of training in baseball - his love of the sport having been spurned the moment his father told him about it when he was younger, of his days back when he'd first met their mother on this planet - were starting to pay off. All he had to do was think of this situation as a game in the ninth inning and he wad running home for the last score. And the blonde that yelped the moment he scrambled to his feet and took off, was nothing more than a large baseball, with jaws and viciously sharp teeth gnashing, waiting to devour him if he ever stopped.

If that mental image remained in his head, Yuuri doubted he'd have stopped even when he reached Egypt.

What Yuuri didn't count on was the blonde boy being just as fast and agile as he was. He'd barely made it out the door, the violent chiming of the silver bell at the door's corner more like a death knoll in his ears and startling a very concerned Conrad, when Wolfram was upon him. Pseudo-willowy arms wound their way around his neck, making Yuuri bend backwards painfully, awkwardly, the back of his head knocking into Wolfram's shoulder as the grip tightened. Pressure on his windpipe caused him to gag, and he flailed about helplessly as Wolfram squeezed, as though he were trying to remove Yuuri's head from his neck by sheer force of will.

"Wolfram!" came a shocked cry, and then there was more pressure, causing the clueless boy-king to see bright spots before his eyes, before it gradually gave way. Yuuri quickly snapped up then bent over, coughing and sputtering as he fought to regain his breath. Behind him, he could hear the agitated growls of a familiar voice almost sounding as if restrained and struggling. When Yuuri ventured a look over his shoulder, he saw that Conrad had come to his rescue. The brunette had the blonde by the wrists, bodily placing himself between the killer and his victim. When Yuuri could rightfully breathe, he whirled about and quickly sought to plant himself on the farthest side of Conrad, still a little red, still slightly out of breath, and more than a little sore.

"He's crazy!" Were the first words out of Yuuri's mouth.

Wolfram's heated looks suddenly doubled, and Yuuri found himself eeping and ducking further behind the safety of Conrad. Neither boy noticed that the man seemed far more amused than he rightfully should've been.

"Only when he's passionate about things," came the soft reply.

"Passionate? He's not passionate - he's full on...on...crazy!"

"Shut it, CHEATER!" Wolfram tore his hands from his brother's grip, glaring at the both of them.

How dare that stupid King insult him when Wolfram was the one who should be. After all, the king had toyed with his feelings! Honor, he mentally corrected himself.

And Weller! That bastard was clearly up to something. He could see it in the relaxed way the middle son took to this kind of thing. It was as though he could see through Wolfram, and knew the blonde much more than Wolfram knew himself. And he highly distrusted the fact that Weller had used the word 'passionate' to describe his attitude at the moment. Wolfram damn well knew 'passionate' was just being polite, unless Conrad knew an ulterior motive, one that Wolfram had been battling with himself and...

There was one way to salvage his pride in this situation. To prove to Yuuri that no, he did not have control over him and that no, Conrad was wrong. Wolfram was not what they all thought he was. He was not, did not, could not, would not, absolutely never in...

And that was, of course, to lunge at the boy king. Conrad was once more surprised by the sudden attack and the sheer ferocity in it, and though he could've easily swooped down to stop his younger brother, he made no move to. Merely, he stood as he was, turning slightly to watch with slowly growing amusement, as children did as children normally do. An impromptu game of ring-around-the-Conrad was held as Yuuri yelped with alarm and quickly took off, running around the brunette in an attempt to keep any part of the man between him and his vicious new bride-to-be, who was on his heels and seemed intent on widowing himself at an early age.

"Get BACK here, you sniveling coward!"

"And get KILLED? No way!"

Conrad couldn't help the rich chuckle to escape his throat. "Now, now, let's not spill any blood Wo-"

"CHEATER! I'll show you to humiliate me like this, to think you could do something so heinous as-"

"I did NOTHING! What are you TALKING about? Ack--no, no, don't grab me--yargh!"

A hand had grabbed his wrist, and the grip was strong enough to bruise. In that moment, Yuuri panicked. He was caught, surely, and cornered. If he did not act quickly, he would surely have his head twisted off, and he rather liked it on his shoulders. After all, it was the only head he had. He had to get Wolfram off, now, before something rather life-removing happened to him and--

It was the work of but a moment. A moment full of fear and hilarity, in hindsight. Yuuri's hand had struck like a snake, whipping out whacking the nearest thing that was Wolfram that it could. To Yuuri's quickly dawning horror, as he saw the blonde's head turn to the right abruptly.

Oh, shit.

Wolfram's head snapped to the side, his skin burning and tingling. The shock from the blow had him stumbling back a little, hand releasing it's hold on Yuuri's wrist, blinking eyes he wasn't aware were full of tears from the sharp pain in his neck and left cheek. When Wolfram reached up to gently touch the red cheek, slowly turning to stare at the offender, bright green eyes met with coal dark ones, which were widened in terror. Wolfram pointed ignored that.

"...Y-Yuuri..." The voice wavered, somewhere between astonishment, disbelief, humiliation, and ah, yes, a slight tinge of elation. Wolfram would not explain why at this moment, even if he'd been threatened to a death of being trampled by a riot.

And Yuuri in response made to open his mouth and protest this. After all, slapping one's left cheek with an open palm was a statement of finality. A claiming kind of gesture, that was treated with the grave solemnity of a funeral. Surely a situation like this, though, there'd be forgiveness and an easy way to wriggle out of tradition? And just as his jaw dropped open, Conrad, who'd been acting as a wall between the two, laughed. He slowly stepped away from his old position, opting to stand to the side and tilt his head a bit as he continued to laugh merrily, shoulders shaking.

This was certainly not how he imagined things would go, but it was certainly close. The fact that he was nearly right, or that it'd happen completely in this way, Conrad wasn't sure which was funnier.

Wolfram blushed. It was hard not to, when your brother was finding so much hilarity in your situation, as well as... Some part of Wolfram felt smug, felt tiny and yet large, felt so completely and utterly filled with rejoice that Yuuri had finally made up his mind. He gave a spare moment to wonder since when had he seen Weller seem so happy in all his life, especially since...

But that gave way to the utter anger when Yuuri immediately tried to protest.

"It--it was-"

Yuuri's voice died on his lips when Conrad's hands gently came to rest on both younger male's shoulders, his laughing tapering off into low chuckles, shoulders and head still shaking. A gentle pressure was applied to them both, before a smile of utter warmness and finality was stamped all over his face.

One Yuuri knew that said, his love life was over, as he knew it.

One Wolfram knew that said, he'd be wearing a lot more skirts and pink. And maybe even, the wedding dress.

All fears were sealed, in six simple words in one dreaded sentence; said with the utmost casuality that it should've been scandalous.

"Congratulations on your engagement, Your Highnesses."