Chapter 13

When they got to the stairs, Wolfram flatly refused to allow anyone—including Conrad, who offered—to pick him up and carry him bridal style. The blond set his jaw and balled his hands into fists. He was a soldier. It was a simple flight of stairs. He could do this. Death glares were shot in all directions to prove his point.

Wolfram's legs moved slowly and with purpose while Conrad watched almost nervously behind a bland smile. His baby brother could be too stubborn sometimes.

Conrad noticed, and not for the first time, that Wolfram's hair was stained a brownish red on one side and his back still held light scars from the wings that pushed through the porcelain skin. Some of the cuts had healed over, but there were still bruises that were purpling on his body. He guessed that Gisela would have to visit with Wolfram a few times, once they got back, to rid his brother of the last of the marks.

The sound of feet stumbling on the wooden stairs caught his ears.

"Wolfram?" Conrad said, and reached for his brother instinctively only to get a "Don't you dare touch me" heated glare.

"Wolfram, I don't think you should," Yuuri agreed quickly but was ignored flat out.

Wolfram continued on. But his legs, he had to admit, were getting heavy. This is so stupid… But I'm not giving up. He was determined to push himself to the limit, if need be, just to show them that he could take care of himself by himself.

The others followed at a shuffle, exchanging uncomfortable glances. Wolfram was slow and breathing hard. When the blond began to chuckle to himself darkly and his body careened into the railing, Yozak scooped the feisty Mazoku up into his arms without a care in the world.

"I could have made it," Wolfram growled against his neck, his eyes closed briefly.

"You could," the spy said back slyly, "but let Trouble enjoy having her 'night-time husband' close by. Okay? She won't have me for much longer."

Wolfram's face went blank at that. Tomorrow… It's definitely going to happen tomorrow. I'll have to say 'goodbye' to her.

Wolfram nodded and whispered, "As you say…" mimicking the spirit's submissive fashion. He knew that's what she would have said if she had the power to do so.

Yozak worried at that and held Wolfram closer as they reached the landing and Murata slipped by them to open the door with the rusty key.

Yuuri had been sitting on his neatly made bed, with covers tucked in so tightly you could bounce a quarter off of it, for the past half hour. The maids had been in while they were away—leaving them a clean, well aired room.

Yuuri's concerned, onyx eyes watched Wolfram. At the first opportunity, the blond had taken a chair next to the window. The curtains were drawn back and he could see onto the street below. But, he seemed to be looking at everything and nothing—slate green eyes stared unblinking at what was unfolding before him.

Tra'va? Can you hear me?

Nothing.

Silence.

He called to her again and felt a stir. In his mind's eye, he could see the outline of the flying fox as she lay sprawled out. With the same stubborn effort that Wolfram had on the stairs, she forced her naked body into a sitting position and wrapped her wings around herself. Tra'va gritted her teeth into a grin. She was proud of herself. She did it.

You seem a little better, huh, Tra'va? At least, he hoped she was.

She nodded tiredly. Her eyes smiled back at him.

I don't know if you realized it or not…but those guys in the green robes...?

Tra'va looked up, extended a hand, and shot the bird with a taloned middle finger. He raised an amused blond eyebrow at that. Well...those morons won't be bothering us… or anyone else… anymore. He felt a chuckle deep inside. You are feeling a bit better, huh? … Anyway, we destroyed their pathetic little hideout… Conrad said that they were working as assassins… with those red stones. So, that little group will be seeing the inside of a jail cell for years to come.

She nodded with a smile and wrapped her wings more tightly around herself.

So, now, we're in our room… Yozak had to give us, you and me, some help getting back. Do you remember that?

His answer was the sweet tingle of desire. Wolfram smiled wryly and tucked a filthy strand of hair behind his ear.

Yes, I thought that you wouldn't mind. Then, the blond lowered his head and continued. Even though I was determined… He sighed at himself. Fine, fine…I was stubborn… again…and I wanted to make it here on my own…But, even then, I didn't complain too much,…when Yozak got us up the stairs.

He got a sarcastic "oh, right" vibe. And he fought a sheepish smile. But, he wasn't sure exactly why he was doing that. Trouble could read his heart like a picture book. There was no hiding anything from her.

I suppose…underneath it all…some part of me wanted to make it up to you… because… I'm sorry, Tra'va. Back there…when you needed to hold the sage… and I wouldn't let you. The blond folded his arms defensively at that and narrowed his eyes out the window. But…you must understand…that he… Wolfram's face hardened. I'm just really angry with him for what he did! No…for what he failed to do…

There was a sympathetic glow coming to him. But it didn't make Wolfram feel any better.

I just…despise the fact that he condoned it. It's not like he didn't know any better. His soul is ancient! He's supposed to have all the answers. He's supposed to do what's right. But, he didn't. From the start, I guessed that he'd almost always side with Yuuri. The sage, as 'Murata Ken' knew Yuuri first. But, still… What happened to me…and how I feel about it…is not trivial. No matter what the sage says, it's not just a matter of 'castle life.' It's MY life.

Wolfram felt arms wrap around him and the soft brush of long, red fox hair.

A part of me wants to let go of Yuuri. The reasons why are obvious. I'll never be his precious person. And a part of me wants to hold onto him so badly…that I crave it. Wolfram chewed his lower lip, holding back the tears that begged to come. It's selfish, though. I know it is. Wolfram's face looked heartbroken and he turned more to the window. Now, The Maou wants me… and I'm not sure about that, either. It's great when I'm with him, however…

He's Yuuri and… not…Yuuri? a voice whispered in his head.

Wolfram frowned at the voice.

I don't think you should be talking to me. Save your strength. Come to think of it, maybe…I should stop this.

The red fox hair tickled against his face as he received another hug. The arms held him firmly in place and there seemed to be the hum of a song in his ears. It was the same song that Tra'va had been singing when they'd first set out for the shrine.

Wolfram could feel a slender body slide into his lap and rest against him. Soft lips pecked at his.

You love me, don't you…Tra'va?

Wolfram felt the answer almost immediately. It was warm. It was intimate, patient, and kind without demands or conditions. The feeling was total acceptance with no past or future. It lived for the now and it lived only for him. Of course, he'd felt Tra'va's love for Murata, Yozak, and, not so oddly anymore, Conrad. But, Conrad was almost her father's twin incarnate. Still, with the others, the emotions had a different flavor to them—none of which caused an ounce of jealousy because he knew that her unique feelings for him suited his soul, and soothed it, more than any experience he ever had.

Forgive them, Tra'va whispered. …Because you need to.

I thought I told you not to speak, he fretted, which only got him an impish glow in return.

She smirked back. He could feel it in his soul, that self-satisfied fox-smirk. I'm a bitch. What can I say?

With Yozak and Conrad downstairs getting food to bring back to the room, it seemed unearthly quiet where he was. The sage's glasses caught the light from the window and sparkled a little. He stood there, unnoticed, by the two other occupants in the room.

Considering his recent apology to Wolfram, and the strong feelings that were probably still under the surface, he decided to keep the double black company instead.

Murata sat next to Yuuri on the bed.

"This isn't good," the double black said, his eyes glued on Wolfram who was still seated by the window.

"Did he get dizzy again when I wasn't looking?" the sage asked, studying the blond from where he was sitting.

Yuuri frowned and said, "no" with the hint of an edge.

"Then…what?" Murata asked lowly, not wanting to draw Wolfram's attention.

The double black whispered in his ear. "Just watch his face. It keeps changing expressions. It's like he's gone mad or something. Maybe, that blow to his head did more than we thought."

Murata's eyes turned back to Wolfram for a few minutes in quiet observation. Then, he suppressed the amused face that he dearly wanted to make. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Shibuya. I believe that he's talking to Tra'va. And, if he can do that, it's a good sign. It means she's getting stronger."

Yuuri's onyx eyes widened with the realization. "Oh, that's a relief," he groaned under his breath. "I was worried there for a second."

"Just a second?" The whisper had a teasing quality to it that got him an elbow to the ribs.

Chuckling lightly, the sage patted him on the shoulder and said, "Well, 'worried' or not, you're still not off the hook for that note…you know the one…from Kumiko." Then, he thought about it. "The one you dropped was from Kumiko, right?" His hands laced together as he spoke and he tried not to fidget. "…And not…you know…from one of the others?" The smile ran away from Murata's face by the end of the last sentence.

Yuuri lowered his head; his eyes hidden in the shadow of his bangs. "It was Kumiko's."

The sage continued in a low mutter. "Then it was a good thing for you, Shibuya, that your ex-fiancé decided to behave like an 'ex.' If he'd lost his temper and tried to use his magic in the state he was in…? Well, I'd hate to think of the consequences of that. To run out of magic entirely…you know?"

Yuuri didn't move even though he was still listening.

"Right now, you're lucky." And Yuuri shot him a hard, sideways glance. The sage continued. "No, really… He's just too ill to deal with you on top of everything else…including the stress from his injuries." Then, he pushed his glasses up a little higher on his nose with the tip of a finger. "So, let's just try to keep von Bielefeld in one piece until we can drop Tra'va off at the shrine tomorrow."

Yuuri thought he saw Murata hedge a bit at the last sentence. Onyx eyes locked with onyx. The sage shrugged sheepishly at his own wording and clarified. "Well, actually, it's a bit more complicated than just letting her go off on her own merry way. I've read about spirits transferring from host to host…or host to holy object. If she's this weak, then… it may take more time than anticipated." Murata glanced back to Wolfram's profile. Or, it may not happen at all. In which case, both Tra'va and von Bielefeld won't make it. Their bond is that strong. If one dies, both die.

"I'm taking a bath," Wolfram said, doing his best to run his fingers through filthy, blood and dirt clotted hair.

As much as it annoyed the ex-prince, he'd have to ask for a change of clothes from someone around him. Well, either that or wear a sheet from the bed for the rest of the trip. Nonetheless, there was no way he'd put these rags back on a second time. The trousers that he was wearing had rips and tears in them up to the thigh. And he didn't even want to think of washing his black g-string only to have the silly thing drip dry in the bath or outside the window all night long. He'd just toss everything he was wearing in the trash.

Conrad handed Wolfram a small wooden bucket that had a bottle of shampoo, a bar sandalwood soap, a razor, a bottle of lotion, and a thin, blue washcloth inside. "Use this," he said throwing a folded white bath towel on top, "…only I want you to take a shower, not a bath." A pair of maroon pajamas and some white boxers from the sage found their way on top of the white towel. Murata grinned with a shrug, but it went unnoticed as confused green eyes locked on Conrad.

"Shower?"

Wolfram glanced down at the pile he was holding and then back to Conrad. "I can take a bath if I want to," he complained in almost a low growl. He was in his eighties. He did not need an older brother to tell him when he could and couldn't take a bath.

"It's really better to take a shower," Yozak chimed in.

"Of course," Wolfram grumbled, "you'd take his side." He motioned his head at his brother.

Yozak shrugged. "It's just that if you pass out in the bath, you could drown. The shower is really a better choice for now."

"Unless you want me or Shibuya to join you," Murata chirped. It went beyond teasing. He looked only too eager to join him.

That perv, Wolfram thought to himself and heard a girlish giggle inside his head. And you're a perv, too, Tra'va, if you think I'm going to go for that.

Spoil sport, came a whisper.

The blond wasn't sure how Tra'va managed it, but she flashed an image of deep kissing Murata in his head—complete with every touch, embrace, and sensation. Everything, right down to the still minty taste from the toothpaste the sage had brushed with. What fun we had… Remember? was whispered at him.

"Humph," the blond came back with. But, it was aimed at Tra'va. Wolfram's cute, pink lips squished together as though he'd been sucking a lemon. He clutched the wooden bucked a bit tighter. "I'll take a shower, then," he relented. "But I want to be ON MY OWN!" He met the eyes of everyone in the room with a pouty blush on his face.

Then, as he reached for the knob, he heard Conrad add, "Just leave the bathroom door open ajar."

"Eh?" Wolfram said, turning back with a hand on his hip.

"Just in case we need to come in and help your naked body off the floor." Yozak finished his words with a brief "goodbye" wave.

Wolfram ignored the new image in his head. Curse you, Tra'va.

He glared at his brother. "But, I'll freeze with the door open!"

Conrad laughed easily. That sounded like the baby brother that he was used to.

Wolfram's dull green eyes still had not left him. They were wide. "And anyone could just walk in!" Even with one hand holding the bucket, Wolfram managed to continue his protests with a variety of ridiculous, overly exaggerated hand gestures to emphasize his point.

"I'll guard the door," Conrad said soothingly.

"And I'll join him," Yuuri added.

That got an unreadable expression from Wolfram. It was cold and unflinching. But, beyond that, the look was an enigma to the double black. And, some part of Yuuri felt hurt at that. He was no longer able to tell what the blond was feeling from just looking at him. Worse yet, the blond wasn't willing to say.

"I give up."

With shoulders rounded slightly, Wolfram walked through the door. He really needed to get a break from them.

Maybe the shower would help.

A pair of ragged, almost shredded, trousers smacked into the wall and fell down into the trashcan below. It was quickly followed by a thong that had been stretched and released like a slingshot.

Wolfram eyed the tub longingly. It was small but very deep. And he loved the idea of just sinking up to his shoulders and letting all of his problems soak away in the heat. Sadly, his brother would have none of that. But, he understood why and felt Tra'va agreeing with the group. So, he was out voted.

A bruised hand reached out. The blond turned on the shower, folded his arms against the shower wall, and rested his head against his arms. He let the warm water from the shower head cascade down to his shoulders and back. It felt good. Briefly, he convinced himself that all he had to do was stay in the shower for the rest of his life. It would be great until his hands and feet got all pruney.

Just outside the door, Wolfram could hear the low rumbling of two voices. True to their word, Conrad and Yuuri were waiting for him. But, at the moment, it felt like they were sentries instead of companions. And, now that Wolfram really thought about it, he still couldn't peg Yuuri as a companion. He didn't know what he was anymore.

Wolfram leaned his head further into his arms. The water splashed around his feet and tickled a little. Tickling reminded the blond of his time with The Maou and that sneaky, but most pleasurable, blade of grass. The blond was certain that The Maou knew he was in here, right now, naked and with the warm water running. He quirked a smile at that. Maybe it was a good thing that Conrad was outside the door after all. Someone had to guard his honor while he was in the shower. Oh, that thought amused him. He'd been alone with Yuuri countless times and nothing ever happened between them. And The Maou had always been the perfect gentleman. But, a devious, evil little part of him tore at his soul, demanding that special "maou" attention. And, it would be fun to see that wild black hair and those passionate eyes so close again. But, then, his smile faded.

Let's face facts… No matter how much time I spend with The Maou, he will, eventually, leave, and I'll wind up with Yuuri. And, if Yuuri doesn't want me…he'll be disgusted by what he finds. Could I live with half of a lover? What kind of life would that really be?

A sigh echoed.

Yuuri pushed open the door a tad more and peeked in—just to make sure that Wolfram was taking his shower. Yuuri heard the splashing and told himself that he was sure that the blond was enjoying it. But, once Yuuri's eyes were able to look past the clouds of steam and the transparent shower curtain, he noticed the lithe, blond figure leaning, with arms folded, against the shower stall. The angelic face was hidden. The water pushed his hair back in flowing waves. Then, it moved down the shoulders and off of his back. The porcelain skin was bruising up again on his lower back and the deep gashes were little more than pinkish scratches crusted over with scabs.

The double black could hear Wolfram saying quietly to Tra'va, "Why did The Maou bring me back…only to live like this?" He straightened up, bowed his head into the spray, and ran his fingers stiffly through his matted hair. "But…I'll endure it…as always…"

Wolfram approached the bed closest to the window. As he did so, he passed Murata and said a quiet "thank you for the clothes" without making eye contact. Wolfram got a happy glow from Tra'va for the manners. And, in his head, the blond gave the spirit a quick and very stern reminder that "manners" were not her strong suit. The elfin chuckle that returned to him made Wolfram lighten up a little.

The sun was beginning to set—which was not Wolfram's usual bedtime. Quite often, he would stay awake until the wee hours of the morning. This was especially true if he decided to wait up for Yuuri. But, right now, Wolfram was exhausted. And he didn't particularly care about the time.

Wolfram curled cutely, very much like a kitten, on top of the covers. The sage's maroon pajamas fit him to a "T" and made his bright blond hair look radiant. It did not go unnoticed by the others in the room. But Yuuri was bothered by two things. The first was the fact that the blond was wearing "boy sleepwear," instead of the usual silly nightgown that made Wolfram look ridiculous—and terribly, terribly human. …And kind of sexy, he thought. Tra'va wearing just the boxers didn't have the same kind of gut reaction for him that the nightie did. The other thing that disturbed him was what he heard Wolfram say in the shower. I really have hurt Wolfram, he thought. And I'm not sure how much more he can take.

Wolfram, feeling a bit cool, sat up and pulled all of the bed covers back. He snuggled in and turned on his side, facing the window. He stared out, unblinking once more. Only, this time, Tra'va had decided to get some sleep, too. Some part of her didn't feel quite right. Despite her best efforts, she wasn't able to hide that fact from Wolfram anymore. But, when he asked her about it, she simply projected a feeling of drowsiness, and he got the hint.

The others munched quietly on the bread, cheese, and fruit that Wolfram flatly refused the moment he returned from his shower. From time to time, eyes gently drifted in Wolfram's direction. They mumbled about other things and discussed packing tonight to be ready for their journey tomorrow. But, all in all, the concern was still there and hung heavily in the air.

When it got late enough Yuuri and Murata took the bed in the middle. Conrad took the far bed. But, around 3 AM, he would switch with Yozak and would be guarding the door.

When Yuuri and Murata agreed to share the bed, both glanced at the blond to see if there would be any words of protest, of jealousy followed by the word "cheater." Wolfram, his eyes closed now, slept quietly with his arms wrapped around himself. But it wasn't a deep sleep, Yuuri knew, because the blond stayed on one side of the bed without moving.

Murata started snoring first. Yuuri's bent arms were folded behind his head. They propped him up higher off the pillow. He turned his head slightly to the left and could see the sage's profile as only a faint outline in the darkness. Beyond him was Conrad. To his knowledge, Conrad never snored. The man was a quiet sleeper who liked to shove the covers roughly around his neck and shoulders when he settled in. Maybe he felt cold in the night. Yuuri could never quite tell.

The double black stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. He was feeling too much…and too little. When he'd left this very room to find Wolfram and Yozak, he had no idea that he'd end up with an injured and bleeding Wolfram in his arms. Then, his memory faded as The Maou shoved him aside and took over. After that came the apology to Wolfram. He cringed at the thought as he replayed that scene in his mind over and over. Yes, even now, he still had the note from Kumiko. Yuuri had to admit to himself that he kept it because it was fun to read it and re-read it. The note was special. It was the kind of attention that he thought he'd always wanted from a girl. And, while it wasn't exactly his first love note in the last eight months, it was, most certainly, the most "forward" or "bold"—at least, from a Japanese viewpoint. And Kumiko had waist-length, shiny black hair that fell like a black curtain. Her eyes were so brown that they were almost black. And her nose wrinkled just before he'd kiss her by the last bookcase in the public library. Yes, making out was always fun with her. She'd play the prude at first, with minor protests. But, quickly enough, she was more than willing to take over and pin him down. It was cute, he thought, remembering her flushed face.

Yuuri tugged at his own raven hair, running his fingers through the knots in it. Yes, he'd gotten a bit more confidence from being king and, back on Earth, that confidence was really paying off. In fact, it was more than good. It was desirable in his culture when mixed with something that appeared to be humility. He no longer approached girls sheepishly. He was self-assured and friendly—picking up a book for one girl when she dropped it in the hall. Less was more when it came to flirting, he realized. And when he smiled, he made direct eye contact for just a second longer than necessary. It was enough to make girls turn away, hands covering their blushing cheeks, but then turn right back with a slight grin to see if he was still looking.

Making them do that was—fun.

Yuuri turned his head and glanced at Wolfram. His smirk faded. Now, it wasn't fun. And he had no idea where he stood with Wolfram. The double black knew what The Maou had planned. And he knew that the blond in the bed next to him could be very stubborn, indeed, when he chose to disagree. However, Yuuri also understood that Wolfram had a kind of immediate submission to whatever The Maou wanted. He'd grown up with the concept of a king ruling the land and the people who belonged to it. And while the blond once had a begrudging toleration (bordering on respect) for "The Great Sage," Wolfram had an overpowering desire to be everything he could to "The Maou." Pleasing him was the priority.

Wolfram moaned a little and his right hand found its way to his left shoulder.

Yuuri watched him quietly, not moving.

A blond head was thrown back into the pillow and the body arched upwards. In seconds, Wolfram was awake. The covers were thrown off and he was sitting upright in the bed hissing at the pain in his shoulder. It was slowly creeping up, Yuuri could see, by the intense rubbing that Wolfram was giving it.

"Damn," Wolfram muttered, his head lowered as he squeezed the muscles in the hopes that they'd stop. They didn't, though. Instead, his shoulder began to ache and the pain was spreading into his chest. "Just stop," he gritted out.

It was a terrible way to wake up. And, although he'd been awakened by pain many times in his life as a soldier, waking to an overwhelming cramping feeling made him pathetic, helpless. Even now, he had to stay quiet or he'd wake everyone else in the room. If he did, he'd be the center of attention, again, in a bad way. "Wolfram the Weak" was not what he wanted to be—ever. He'd embarrassed himself enough from "the stairs" incident.

The blond's breathing was short, choppy. He just had to ride out the pain and to get his body to stop doing this.

Flump.

Wolfram's head shot up.

"What the…?"

From behind him, warm hands with stubby fingernails worked their way into the muscles of Wolfram's left arm. Before closing his eyes with relief, he noticed that there was another pair of legs behind his own—sitting behind him in much the same way he noticed Yozak sitting behind him on the horse earlier.

Wolfram took a pained, trembling breath as the hands worked down the arm and, then, back up it to his neck. The blond dug his fingers into his thighs, knuckles white. "Hurts," Wolfram said, not sure if he was speaking to himself or not.

Wisps of raven hair were in Wolfram's peripheral vision. Black…hair…

Green eyes looked to the bed to his right. Based on the shape of the body, it seemed that the sage was still there, sleeping quietly. In the bed next to it, Conrad was still there with the blankets bunched around his neck.

The fingers on Wolfram's back moved down. They were rougher, almost demanding, almost—painful.

Wolfram could smell the scent of the black hair when it caressed his cheek as the body leaned against him. He knew that it was Yuuri.

No, not Yuuri, the blond thought. It's The Maou. Whenever I'm in pain, The Maou comes to me.

Wolfram smiled a little to himself, sensing a particularly hard muscle softening. I don't know how he knew I was hurting, but this feels great. He allowed his whole body to relax into the feeling. Hands found Wolfram's shoulders and began to dig in, then moving across to the chest. The blond held back a moan of pleasure.

He's done so much for me. One good turn deserves another…

Wolfram twisted, doing an 'about face' in the bed. He quickly wrapped his legs around the waist of the figure and pulled the warm body into an embrace by the shoulders.

Flustered, the body stiffened against him, and Wolfram dipped his fingers into black, shiny hair. He closed his green eyes briefly at the silky touch.

"Maou, I'm sorry. Did I surprise you?" Wolfram whispered in a sexy tone. He stroked the black hair again. "Thank you for doing that. I was hurting…badly. But I'm not very good at admitting such things, though…" It was followed by a gentle, feather light kiss against the neck. "But, to you…I can…because you desire me." The blond, deciding to be a bit bolder, gently sunk his teeth in and sucked a little at the skin. Almost immediately, he heard a sharp intake of breath. The blond smirked inwardly at that.

Wolfram leaned his warm cheek against the wet spot he'd just made. He whispered, "I know you want me, Maou. You've said so over and over." Wolfram wrapped his arms tighter around the shoulders, pressing their chests together, and felt arms wrapping around his waist. "And I've thought about it. The things you've said to me… I really have considered it."

Wolfram could feel tears coming to him. He was supposed to be glad to say these things to The Maou. He really was. But some part of him wanted to cry, too. The tears. He tried to hold them but they were brimming over. With a subtle gesture, he rubbed one away with the heel of his hand.

"When we return to the castle, I'll move back into my old room. And, behind closed doors, I'll be anything that you want. I'll be your 'inamorato,' 'beloved,' or whatever pet name you choose for me next." He stroked the dark hair again, slowly—down to the ends, rubbing his fingers and thumb together. "And we'll let Yuuri have his life and be happy." In a cub-ish fashion, Wolfram rubbed his golden locks into black ones. "I'm just not what he needs. I know that now. So, I have to give up on him."

Wolfram, even in the dark, could only make out the general shape of a face. He placed both palms on either side and, finding the mouth, kissed the lips shyly—which was his way. "Since you want me so badly, I'll be anything you want…behind closed doors…quietly." He kissed the lips again.

"But, Maou, promise me this…"

Wolfram wrapped his arms tightly around the shoulders. "…Promise me…that you'll never slap me…" He pressed his face against the warm neck and felt the tears coming to him, a warm rill between them both. "And promise that you'll never tell me…you love me…even though you've promised to teach me what love is…" Wolfram closed his eyes tightly, pearl-like tears coming down. He could say the rest. He knew he could. "And, if you can do that, I'll gratefully accept you as my lover...whenever you want."

Warm hands clutched Wolfram's back, fingers digging into the pajama top.

"I'll make you happy, Maou," the blond whispered against his lips followed by a deep kiss that he thought The Maou would prefer. He leaned back and added, "You'll see…very happy. I know I'm what you want most…but, for the life of me, I can't understand why…"

In the darkness, the strong form crushed the blond tightly against him. But, I'm not The Maou!

Yuuri's eyes were wide, unblinking, as he rubbed soothing circles against Wolfram's back. The blond was sobbing a little, his head resting on the double black's shoulder.

The double black kicked himself. He was the only one who could ever make Wolfram cry. And he'd been doing it a lot.

For The Maou…for me…Wolfram is willing to give up so much. …Love… …Marriage… …A family of his own…with honor. I know he wants those things—badly. He's willing to live alone and wait for The Maou to come to him…when he feels like it… While I move on with my life…

Yuuri shook his head angrily at that, his jaw set. This was worse than anything The Maou had planned.

It's not a relationship. It's an affair…