Chapter 19

Well, I guess, it's the thought that counts. With care, Wolfram lifted his new robe out of the folds of tissue paper. The long, rectangular box had been waiting for him on his bed with a note attached that said, "I got this for you! Just wait and see what else I've bought. Love, Mother." The long sleeved, oh-too-shiny robe was gold silk with stitches around the collar in such a deep purple color, it was almost black. Wolfram slipped it on, tightened it at the waist, and continued to rub a fluffy, white towel across his head. Tepid drops from his bangs fell against his cheeks.

For the moment, it felt good to be alone. "Too much," he sighed to himself.

Wearily, Wolfram sat on the edge of his bed and continued to rub. His eyes drifted to the dinner tray that he placed on his desk.

When he turned down the offer to go to dinner with the rest of them, mainly because the fatigue had finally gotten to him, Gwendal sent a servant with a tray of his favorite foods—including two desserts. There was a green salad with a cruet set with little bottles of olive oil and vinegar. And the meat was medium rare and sliced thin. Wolfram dipped a finger into the bowl of spice pudding, pecked at the berry cake, and forced down half of a sourdough roll. He knew his body was hungry, but he just wasn't feeling it. The bottle of wine and goblet that Yozak left in his room as a present didn't look good, either, even though Wolfram appreciated the gift. Somehow, the two of them had grown closer and it felt nice having someone. But, right now, the last thing Wolfram wanted was to drown his sorrows and then vomit up what precious little he'd bothered to eat. Besides, drinking by himself always made the loneliness worse.

There was a sharp knock.

"You can pick up the tray tomorrow. I'm not done eating," Wolfram lied.

Another knock.

"Did you hear me?"

Another knock.

"Look, I…!" Wolfram huffed to himself and stalked over to the door in a mood. "I said…!" The blond opened it in time to see Yuuri's boyish features change. The eyes turned to slits, his raven hair spilled down to his shoulders, and his frame grew a little. There was a knowing, bad-boy grin that greeted him.

"Maou?" Wolfram breathed. His hand clutched the knob in surprise. Wolfram had seen Yuuri transform into The Maou before, but never this close and never without dire need.

The Maou's smile at Wolfram didn't falter. He folded his arms casually. When Wolfram continued to stare, he leaned against the door frame, holding back his amusement. "If you don't mind…?" He pointed inside the room. Next, he placed his large hand playfully over the white towel draped over Wolfram's hair and gave both a tussle.

That snapped him out of it. "Wait! What am I doing?" the blond muttered in an undertone, admonishing himself. "Please, come in!" Wolfram said, returning the smile. He took a step back and allowed The Maou to enter.

The Demon King took in the room. It was Spartan, militaristic, and cold with the exception of the bed's blue canopy and matching linens. Apparently, the maids had turned down the bed while Wolfram was bathing. They even put a chocolate candy on the pillow.

"I'm glad you came," Wolfram said sincerely, wrapping his arms around one of the intricately carved columns of his four poster bed. The towel fell from Wolfram's hair down to his shoulders—draping them in the damp fabric.

"We wanted to see how you were," The Demon king mumbled as he eyed the tray of food. He also noted that the wine went untouched and the goblet dry.

"We?" Wolfram parroted. Did his family know that The Maou was coming here. Surely, not. The two of them agreed to be discrete about their relationship.

"Yuuri and I," he answered in a distracted tone and picked up the rectangular piece of berry cake. "At the door, you gave the impression you were eating..." He broke off small crumbs of the cake and tasted them impishly—watching Wolfram out of the corner of his eye.

"Yuuri," Wolfram said in a deep tone and narrowed his eyes at the floor.

A small smile played at The Maou's lips as he stepped forward with a broken off piece of the cake. "He cares about you…and so do I."

The blond could feel himself tense up. "I don't want to talk about him." Too much had gone on today. He needed a break from Yuuri.

"Ahem!" The Maou cleared his throat.

Wolfram looked up to a cake and cream-covered strawberry hovering before his eyes held between the thumb and finger of The Maou. "Wolfram, believe it or not, Yuuri has strong feelings for you."

"You're right. I don't believe you." It was curt. He knew it.

Green eyes widened when he felt a large hand on his lower back—reeling him in. The silk robe made the fingers slide against his skin.

"Reconsider…?" The voice was deep, demanding, sensual.

The berry was edged closer to Wolfram's mouth.

"Impossible," he whispered back.

The Maou pressed his lips against the curve of Wolfram's ear. "Think again…search your heart." The plump berry brushed against Wolfram's lower lip and, slowly, he opened his mouth to accept it. The Maou's finger lingered longer than necessary. The blond tasted it hesitantly with his tongue.

The hand on his back stroked him again.

Wolfram chewed, feeling his cheeks burning.

"It's best if you eat, Inamorato." He wrapped up Wolfram in his arms and tucked the blond head under his chin—warm and safe.

"Sorry," Wolfram said, "for worrying you. I didn't mean to."

He felt the weight of the white towel leave him. Then, his green eyes widened as he sensed hands loosening his belt. The material was unknotted quickly enough and, before the blond realized it, his silk robe fell to his ankles with a shimmering sound. Wait! No clothes! I'm na- Wolfram's face flushed as he felt himself being picked up bridal style in The Maou's arms and brought over to the bed. The next thing he knew, he was being rolled over, roughly, onto his stomach.

"Beloved?"

"Huh?" Still slightly dazed.

The blond found the chocolate candy from his pillow being nudged between his lips. Though, Wolfram didn't mind, exactly. After all, it was chocolate and the Demon King had taken a little nibble out of it first.

Wolfram chewed, folded his arms on the pillow, and rested his head down. The Maou, he decided, was probably not much of a talker. He heard the night stand open and close. "Hmmm…nothing here…" The Maou's voice said.

"Sorry, I just moved in," he explained and buried his face further down to hide his blush.

Awkward was bad. He could handle anything other than "awkward." But, he told himself that he hadn't been expecting The Maou this soon. And he certainly wasn't expecting to start their relationship tonight.

"We'll just have to improvise," The Demon King said, going to the dinner tray and taking the salad oil. He held the bottle up to the light and examined it.

Wolfram let his head fall back down on his arms thinking, He's kinky! I didn't think of what he'd like. What am I in for? What's next? The pudding? Am I the meal?

Wolfram felt the bed dip and forced himself to remain calm. This was The Maou—the most respected of his kind. And it was the king who pursued him, not the other way around. It's fine. He loves me and he'd never do anything to hurt me. Yes…I can do this for him… no matter how embarrassing and screwed up and imperfect this night is. But…damn, I wanted…better. For once in my life, I wanted things to go the right way.

"How many times do I have to heal you before your body decides to stop bruising?" Wolfram felt the warm, damp towel being draped across his bare rump.

"Eh?" Wolfram's head popped up only to be pushed back into the pillow by a strong hand. "Oi!" he complained, which got him a firm slap on the butt. The blond winced.

"Hold still or this is pointless…"

The answer was a very put out "humph" from the pillow.

Wet hair was brushed aside.

The green glow coming from The Maou's hands started at the base of the skull and slowly worked all the way down. Wolfram murmured pleasure as his bruises slowly disappeared and the fatigue began to fade. "Hnnn" very quickly became "Ohhh…" in a buttery voice.

"Like it?" The words were spoken softly into his ear.

An appreciative hum was the answer.

Wolfram turned and saw a self-satisfied smirk from The Maou as he retrieved the olive oil bottle. He opened it and drizzled some down along Wolfram's spine.

"Oi! That's cold! And I just took a bath!" he complained as he felt his muscles tighten up.

"Deal with it," came the dark, sexy voice.

Hands smoothed out the oil, caressing him with each sweep and gentle touch.

"You are thin. I can feel the bones."

"Gwendal says the same thing," Wolfram pouted. "I just haven't been hungry lately. I can't help it."

"So, is that what the three of you talked about in Gwendal's office?" he asked, dark eyes focused on his work.

Wolfram nodded his head. "Among other things."

"Such as?" the king said and pressed his fingers into a tight shoulder. Wolfram grunted and answered, "I'm to be Gwendal's liaison for the next two months."

The Maou remained quiet and made a soft circle with his fingers. "And the problem with that would be…?"

"Ouch! Oh, that's tight right there." He wiggled and continued with, "I can't train. I can't be with my men or make my contribution to the protection of the castle. I'll just 'drive a desk' and do what Gwendal says all the time."

The Maou, kneeling next to Wolfram's body, shifted a bit and reached for the other shoulder. "You'll learn the way the castle is really run. You'll spend time with your older brother. And, above all, you'll see that you are more than just a pretty face or a strong soldier. You're very bright, insightful."

Not convinced, Wolfram said, "Are you sure you're not just saying that because I'm too thin…too sickly to do my duty?"

Hands began to massage Wolfram's shoulders with a bit more force. "Intelligent men are very appealing, you know." A slick finger dipped from neck to collarbone.

Wolfram smiled at that and felt his heart beating hard.

The king turned his attention to the back and pressed a fist into a stubborn muscle that refused to obey him. Immediately, the blond's body crumbled. Wolfram moaned openly and rubbed his damp locks against the pillow. It felt so good—almost to the point of pain—and The Maou was merciless when he found a tight muscle. Wolfram kicked his leg a little when the feeling annoyed him—which got him another hard slap on the butt.

Wolfram gasped at the sting.

"I told you not to move," the king admonished, drawing spirals all the way down with feather light touches.

Pale fingers dug into the sheets. "Yes, sir," Wolfram groaned, wanting to rub his sore tushie. He was certain that it was cherry red by now.

"That should be, 'Yes, my love.'"

Wolfram smiled into the pillow. He hadn't said words like that to anyone in a very long time.

Fingers raked down from the shoulders to the small of the back.

Heavenly. It was heavenly. He tilted his head back with eyes closed.

"Feel better?"

"Yes, my love," he whispered. He meant it.

The word "good," was followed by The Demon King's attention being shifted to Wolfram's right arm. "Now, I want you to think about something," he said over the blond's latest moan of appreciation. "I want you…I want…us…to give Yuuri a second chance."

You want…what? Wolfram turned his head from the pillow. His face showed surprise and pain. The Demon King couldn't blame him—and wouldn't—for what he was feeling. It was honest, if nothing else.

"Just try to be friends with him…without regrets…and to be open to more should it happen… That's all I ask."

The blond tugged his arm back with a frown coming to him. "You're asking a lot." His tone sounded broken. "I don't know…" He bit his lower lip at the thought of the request. "I don't even know if it was one… or many… girls that he had on Earth..." Then, he shook his head at that, the idiocy of it. Was it all really Yuuri? "Then again…the engagement was all in my mind, though…right? I knew what he was saying by ignoring everything. In the end…I suppose…it's really my fault."

The Maou rested his raven locks against Wolfram's. "No more accusations...from anyone… Just try." He smoothed a warm, wide hand over Wolfram's back as he did so.

"Why?" A sad whisper.

"I want us…all of us…to be happy…if it's possible." A slick hand stroked Wolfram's cheek. "Either way, you have me for the rest of your life."

"Forever?" Wolfram almost growled the word because he was certain that he didn't believe in "forever" anymore.

The Demon King cocked his head to one said, analyzing the pained, stubborn profile. "In the fullness of time, Inamorato, you'll come to understand that it is true." Then, the dark eyes narrowed. "Now, give me your other arm."

He tickled Wolfram's side and got a reluctant smile—even though the blond was fighting against it.

"…Arm…please…"

"Or?" Wolfram challenged a bit in a bratty tone.

"Or…I'll take away your towel… And I thought I would allow you a little male modesty while I do this." The butt got slapped again. "…Especially when I turn you over and work on the other side…"

The blond gritted his teeth until the sting subsided, "When this is over with, you might have to heal me there from all of your spanking."

"Promises…promises." A playful smooch on the nose followed. "But, you know some part of you likes it…a lot." He rubbed the tender, towel-covered cheek.

Wolfram grinned to himself and held out his right arm for his lover to take. The Maou circled the bed with a knowing stride and took the thin arm. He poured a small measure of oil on it. The kneading of the skin continued. "We really should buy you some massage oil. You're starting to smell rather tasty."

Tasty? "You know," Wolfram said honestly, "I feel a little foolish right now…but…" He cut his eyes at curious black ones and then turned away. "I kind of thought that you…um…wanted…to…" His voice trailed off.

There was a deep laugh, full of mirth. "Do you have any idea how much self-control it's taking me right now just to massage you and let your body recover?"

"Eh?" He glanced up with surprise. "Oh!" He lowered his face again. Then, it's not because my looks haven't returned.

Strong hands massaged Wolfram's lower back in slow circles. It felt a little too hard but, oddly, delicious. He wanted to kick his feet again, but settled for a purr.

"But, when you love someone, you put them first—their heart first, their dreams first, their health first." He drew a heart in olive oil on Wolfram's back and the prone body shivered a little at it. "You do what's best for them because your heart craves it; and unselfish love is the only gift worth giving."

Wolfram propped himself up on his elbows and stared up at The Maou. His eyes grew a darker shade of green.

The next morning, Yuuri woke up with Wolfram beside him. It was the vague sort of "normal" that his soul gladly accepted. His eyes narrowed, squinted up. The canopy wasn't one that he recognized. The mattress felt small and kind of lumpy—not the usual. The room reeked of olive oil and, for some reason, his pajamas felt odd.

Yuuri let himself snuggle into the pillow and his nose went directly into sweetly perfumed locks that smelled of sunflowers. Wolfram. It had to be him. How Yuuri missed that warm glow and the scent that came with his presence.

The double black blinked a little. With a sleepy groan that started out as a hum, he rolled over in bed a little.

"Wolfram, I'm glad you're here," Yuuri mumbled sleepily. He had no idea how this had come to be. But, it didn't matter. Glad in his heart, he'd go back to dreamland.

Shifting again, the double black felt himself spooned against the other body—which woke him up a bit more. Never before had he slept that close to Wolfram. He'd seen Trouble and Murata doing it, and felt jealous pangs, but he'd never done it with the blond. It felt surprisingly good—comforting—after so long.

The morning sun was streaming through the windows. They needed to get up and back into their routines. Yuuri's hand reached for Wolfram's shoulder to shake him awake and found the shoulder cold and bare. The blond shivered.

The nightie slipped down, huh? I guess, we could stay here a few more minutes to warm up, he thought with eyelids getting heavy again. Yuuri reached for the covers and pulled them higher over the narrow shoulder. Underneath the fabric, his hand slipped lower.

Bare skin.

It felt slick. That's…odd… Yuuri's hand slid easily along Wolfram's chest, ribs, waist—lower still …

"Oh my gosh!" He bolted upright and the covers pooled around his waist. "Naked!" he choked.

"Hnnn…" Wolfram grunted, waking up a little. "Maou… Can you keep it down? Let me sleep…" A snore snuck its way in before he added, "Last night was great, though…"

The double black blinked at that and himself. He realized that his "pajamas" were not pajamas at all but the black uniform that he always wore around the castle. But, now, the shirt and pants were coated with—he fisted the uniform at the chest and pulled it away from his body, then gave it a good sniff—olive oil! He looked down at the nude figure next to him. Rattled as he was, Yuuri had to admit that Wolfram's body looked much better than it had the day before. And the blond had a beautiful, glossy sheen to him that made him positively glimmer.

What did we do? Yuuri thought, trying to imagine any way possible that the situation could be hentai, but it wasn't coming to him. He decided that something did, in fact, happen between them and that he was either too naïve or too stupid to figure it out. He had heard of stories where one partner was naked and the other partially clothed. But, this? He tested his collar. It was buttoned up to the top. He ghosted his zipper. Zipped.

"I'm cold," Wolfram complained—hand reaching weakly for the comforter.

Yuuri nodded, grabbed the edge and covered the pale body up to the neck. Shakily, he cuddled up next to Wolfram to keep him warm. But, as he did so, he was also afraid that one mistake would lead to a scene like last night with the blond leaving suddenly with his box of possessions.

"I guess, I've come this far and I don't know exactly what I did. Or, rather, what The Maou did. And I know that The Maou did something." Then, he covered his eyes with his hand. Great, now I'm talking to myself out loud.

"Maou," Wolfram whined, "shush."

The double black glanced at the snoozing form again and remembered Tra'va's parting words to him. They were saddling up the horses and the fox woman tugged at his sleeve and took him aside.

"What do you want?" Yuuri said, happy that things with Wolfram were finally going the right way.

"Wolfram is going to need time to heal from his wounds…and from everything. You understand what I mean by 'everything,' right?"

The onyx eyes widened a little.

"If you want my advice," she said with a hand on her hip, "which, come to think of it, you probably don't…" Tra'va chuckled to herself. "Give him some space and some time to sort out his feelings. Don't smother him."

Yuuri turned to look at Wolfram, who was tightening his saddle. His skin looked bruised, his hair a strange color of blond that he didn't recognize. "You may be right."

Yuuri turned back to Tra'va and saw that her mouth was hanging open. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"I can't either," he said with a small laugh and a hand behind his head. "But, you know him better than anyone else. I'll admit that."

That earned him a small smile.

"And, Yuuri…one other thing…"

"Hm?" he said, head tilted slightly.

"Win his heart all over again."

Yuuri narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Why would I have to do that?" He put his hands in his pockets shyly and kicked the ground a little. "Wolfram already has…feelings…"

"But, he doesn't trust you or himself anymore," Tra'va said wisely, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. "And, even now, you still have that love note in your pocket."

The double black's fingers touched the paper in his right pocket and cringed a little at that.

"Do the right thing, Yuuri," Tra'va said with a warm hug goodbye that almost unnerved him, "whatever that 'right thing' happens to be…for Wolfram."

The double black let go of the memory.

Still in the bed together, Yuuri now held Wolfram in his arms a bit closer to his body. He could see it now. On the return trip, he'd gone from someone who cared to someone who came across as "cold." That's how Murata saw it and, he was certain, that's how Wolfram saw it, too. Once again, he was too literal in the advice given to him. "Giving space" and "abandoning" were cousins at best and he had to learn the difference pretty quickly if he wanted the future he was hoping for.

Wolfram rubbed his head against the pillow and mumbled something in an undertone that wasn't coherent. But, Yuuri didn't care. It was nice. This moment, however it came to be, was nice. But, he was still curious as to what went on that he didn't know about. No, it was more than simple curiosity. It was eating at him.

"Wolfram…uh…" Yuri whispered gently. He could feel his face getting warm.

"Hm?" Green eyes opened and looked at him blearily.

"Wolfram?! Your eyes!"

Still thick-headed, nothing sinking in just yet. What's he saying?

"Your eyes are dark green now!" Yuuri cupped the face and stared down into it, clearly loving everything that he was seeing. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Yuuri?! Oh, Great Shinou! It's Yuuri! His body froze. I'm in bed with Yuuri!

Wolfram could feel his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment and the way Yuuri was squeezing so hard to get a better look. Fully awake and heart pumping hard now, it was a bit of a revelation to realize that he was in bed—naked!—with Yuuri. He had drifted off with The Maou next to him but he should have known better. He kicked himself mentally over that one.

"Dark green!" he blathered. "It's not the usual color that it was before. But, dark is good!" He hugged Wolfram's head to an annoyed "muvpheed" sound that seemed undignified, but he didn't care.

"Thanks," Wolfram said, squinting and rubbing his blond hair with one hand once he was freed. "I didn't know."

It was such a thrilling thing to see after all this time. "Just one more look," Yuuri said excitedly and pushed Wolfram onto his back by his shoulders. Unfortunately, Wolfram's body was still slick with oil and his hands slid off the shoulders entirely. Yuuri was now on top of Wolfram—hands bracing himself at either side of Wolfram's shoulders, and his right leg was between Wolfram's, and hips pushed against each other.

Wolfram.

Naked.

Under him.

"I…ummm…" was all that Yuuri could say. His lips were dangerously close.

Frozen, the blond looked up into onyx eyes. "It's okay." The words were barely a whisper.

Images of Wolfram leaving flashed in his mind again. Now he was here with the blond. Giving up that nagging little voice that said "be straight laced," Yuuri lowered his forehead against Wolfram's, his face softened. "Last night, did… did The Maou…kiss you?" He'd start with that.

Wolfram thought back on it. The Maou did peck him on the nose with a chaste kiss.

"Um…yeah…kind of…"

Yuuri nodded at that. Of course he did. That and probably more, Yuuri reasoned logically. It's not as if we've never done this before, either…but, at the time, he thought he was in the dark with The Maou… Yuuri closed his eyes. The double black lowered his mouth and pressed his lips against Wolfram's. Yuuri could feel the blond gasp as their lips touched.

Underneath the double black, Wolfram's mind went blank at the sensations. He never would have guessed that Yuuri had the guts to even try this.

Wolfram didn't respond. Growing determined, another kiss followed—pushing the blond into the pillow with the cutest "meh" sound that Yuuri had ever heard. He pressed himself against the slick body.

Wolfram was impressed with the way that Yuuri could do it. There was a skill and confidence behind it all. Some nagging, jealous part of him knew that Yuri had practiced with someone—probably a lot of someones. But, at that moment, he was certain that Yuuri wasn't thinking about any of them. For once, he had Yuuri's full attention and his affections—a living fantasy. Gently, he placed his arms around the double black and, with hesitation, arched up a little to deepen the kiss.

The double black turned his face away. "Better stop," Yuuri mumbled and Wolfram raised an eyebrow to that.

"For your sake or mine?" he asked, breathing hard.

Yuuri laughed sheepishly. "Both…I guess…"

Wolfram gave a suspicious nod. Maybe, this was the way his new life was going to be—fall asleep with The Maou and wake up with a smooching Yuuri who would easily pretend that nothing happened as the day progressed. Yes, that would be just like him.

"What?" Yuuri asked, feeling the mood darken.

"It's okay," he shrugged. "What I mean is, it's okay to pretend this never happened. The kisses, you know?" Wolfram's smile was faint, barely there. He was giving the double black a way out.

"Maybe, I don't want to," Yuuri said, lowering his face to stare at the dark green eyes again. It was such a relief to see them.

"Then, should I give you a reminder?"

The look was almost playful again but slightly mischievous. Nevertheless, it made Yuuri happy. "Sure, you can give me a reminder." After all, you nag anyway. It will be good to hear that again, too. I've missed it.

In the span of a second, Yuuri found himself tipped over onto his back, the covers tangled around them, and Wolfram smiled at his chance to use some of his military training on Yuuri in bed.

Slim, nimble fingers found the stiff collar and began to unbutton it.

Pop.

Pop.

He would toy with the button briefly with the tip of his finger before popping it through the material, opening the jacket a little more as he worked his way down.

"Not afraid, are you?" came the sexy voice above him.

Yuuri could feel his heart beating wildly. He'd asked for this. He knew it. "N-No," he said in a tone less than confident, "I'm not afraid."

"Hmm… That's good," came the whisper as the buttons continued to be freed past mid-chest. A cold feeling settled on his skin. The nude blond looked down hungrily, the comforter barely covering his hips. Fingers tightened against the shirt. The cloth on the right was pulled aside and a feral Wolfram whispered harshly. "Last chance," he said, "I'll let you go."

Onyx eyes stared back into green. Yuuri's eyes caught it. He saw an emerald spark in them and hope flooded into him. "No, I can handle it. Don't let me go."

In response, Wolfram thought he could see dark slits in Yuuri's eyes, but they quickly blended back. "As you wish…"

The double black felt slim fingers circling his wrist, holding it down against the mattress.

Wolfram pulled the oil-slicked material back with his hand and said, "This is your reminder of this morning. So, you can't deny it…even to yourself." He pressed his lips to the tan skin and sunk his teeth in lightly into the chest. Yuuri cringed a little as the teeth sunk in further and he sucked at the tender flesh. Then, a gasp followed. Wolfram's tongue darted at the spot. Yuuri closed his eyes and turned his head away, breathing hard with the twisting sensation that was coming to him. It was wet and felt too good. Another gasp. He had to fight to keep from thrashing under Wolfram.

Then, it stopped.

Wolfram was lying on top of him in a contemplative sort of way, admiring his work. The small hickey was purpling nicely.

"That's a…" Yuuri looked down at himself with a bit of surprise.

"Reminder," Wolfram finished for him. "But, don't worry. It doesn't mean that I've marked you as mine or that we're a couple."

Yuuri's face fell at that. That's exactly what he thought a hickey was.

Wolfram folded his hands together on top of Yuuri's chest and rested his chin down on them. "We just woke up together and had a bit of fun. That's all."

Wolfram tucked a wheat colored strand behind his hear. No more promises and no more disappointments. I'll expect very little from you, and you won't be able to hurt me anymore. If we drift apart again…just like on the trip back home from the shrine…at least, I'll have this morning and this moment...and The Maou. For all my life, it will be enough.