Chapter 20
"Who was Tasha von Dauer?" Yuuri huffed as he jogged along. Sweat had soaked his hair thoroughly and was trickling down his neck in warm little droplets. It tickled.
Conrad's eyes widened at the name and his hands, which were balled into fists as usual when he jogged, tightened. Yuuri could see it and he noticed that his godfather paled a little. Maybe, Yuuri thought, it would have been better to bring this up when they first started their jog. But, it had taken him this long to work up the courage. And, by the looks of it, he'd pushed a sore spot. Had he known, he probably wouldn't have said anything at all, kept the question to himself.
"Just curious, Heika…"
"It's 'Yuuri,' you know." He gave a reassuring smile. Maybe, that would work.
Conrad nodded. He was waiting for the usual dialogue of "…You named me…" to follow, but it didn't. There was a short, but awkward silence with only the sound of heavy breathing coming from both of them. Somewhere inside, Conrad was trying to buy some time—time to think of an appropriate and respectful response.
Dark eyes regarded him.
Apparently, Yuuri wanted to know right now and had cut to the chase.
"Well," Conrad began cautiously and continued to jog along their usual path, "Natasha von Dauer was a second cousin of Anissina's and a distant relative of Erhard Wincott." He jumped over a broken branch and kept on running at an even pace. But he caught himself frowning at the memories. "A well organized band of human assassins infiltrated the von Karbelnikoff castle…and, she died as a result."
Yes, that part he was aware of. "Wolfram said…she was…um…killed in the garden." The double black decided to gloss over the details. Surely, Conrad knew it all better than he did anyway.
"Wolfram…mentioned her? Really?" Conrad stopped running and stood in one spot, bent over slightly and breathing hard. He was looking up to Yuuri for an answer with his brown eyes deepening with concern.
The double black stopped, too. "You see," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head nervously in much the same way his father always did,"…he kind of…well, yeah…"
Conrad rested his hands on his hips and stared down at the ground for a second. He hadn't been running that hard, but he still felt out of breath. "Sorry, Yuuri… I'm just…surprised…that's all…"
The double black could see Conrad's mind racing—trying to strategize, to determine what would make Wolfram mention this person from his past. And why now?
"You do know, Yuuri, that, back then, Wolfram and Natasha were…" He searched for a word and came up with "together."
Yuuri shook his head at that. He knew. And he was fine with it, really. He gave a brief shrug as an answer and Conrad's eyes widened a little. His impression was that either Yuuri had suddenly matured or that he didn't care.
"Natasha wasn't the only one who died that day. There were several very important diplomats meeting for the first time—probably the whole reason why the castle was attacked in the first place—and one of the lesser nobles died after being thrown off of the castle wall."
Yuuri cringed.
"I know it's difficult to understand, but… Yuuri, they had a higher social standing than Natasha. And her relationship with Wolfram was kept quiet…but everybody knew. So, her death was overshadowed by the diplomats' deaths because they were holding debriefing sessions at the castle. Another round of negotiations with a select group of human dignitaries was to begin the following month. But, obviously, that never happened because of the incident."
Yuuri frowned a little. "You mean, her death is just a side note in some history book that Günter will make me read someday?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
"That's horrible," Yuuri muttered and continued his jog which, at the moment, was more like power walking. "To be forgotten like that."
Conrad was quickly at Yuuri's side. "Well, not entirely."
"Hm?" Onyx eyes glanced at him.
"At the end of every summer, Wolfram visits her grave in the von Karbelnikoff Cemetery. He brings her flowers and burns incense." Conrad wiped the sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose. "And it's one of the few places where Wolfram prays openly."
Black eyebrows pushed together curiously. "How do you…?"
Conrad chuckled in his usual, slightly rumbling, way. "Wolfram goes out on patrols often enough. But, sometimes, he takes the long way home." Then, a smile came to him. "I also suspect that, in future, he'll take the occasional detour to the von Christ lands to meet up with Trouble." He pushed his limp, brown hair out of his eyes. "I realized Wolfram's little habit when he started refusing to let me come along on certain patrols. And, then, his private guard would return to the castle quietly without him." Conrad's features brightened almost boyishly with the words, "Yozak later confirmed it, of course, so that I wouldn't worry."
Yuuri frowned at that prospect. Wolfram's private guard will go to any lengths to help him, huh?
"Is there a problem?" Conrad quickened his pace a little to keep up with Yuuri—who was jogging now.
"No, I understand things better…"
Conrad jogged a little harder. "But, I fail to understand one thing, Yuuri."
"What?"
"Why mention Natasha now? Did something happen?" He said the words as though speaking out loud to himself. "On the way back, I noticed that Wolfram was…distant. Something was definitely bothering him and it was more than just physical, I think." He hesitated for a moment and added, "And, with the flowers and the girls… He didn't react the way I expected him to. But, he also didn't want to appear weak. That was plain to see when we were talking in Gwendal's office." He wiped his damp face with the back of his hand. Concern was gripping his chest harder with each step. "Yuuri…You know that if Wolfram needed help in some way, I would be there…right?"
Yuuri shook his head a little. "Nothing happened…exactly…"
"Just reminiscing about the past?" came a friendly voice from behind a tree. It was Yozak. Just how long he'd been standing there, it was impossible to say. The orange haired spy approached them with his hands in his pockets and a casual gait.
"Well…uh…you see…" The double black stammered, wondering how he was going to keep Yozak from joining this particular conversation. He really didn't want to get into it because it was Wolfram's past, not his. And, even now, he wasn't sure what to do about Wolfram. But what he did know was that some part of him needed to see the blond and be next to him. His heart ached for it even now.
Yozak's sky blue eyes met with Conrad's. There was a hint of suspicion. Yozak said loftily, "But to bring up an old love…after so much time has passed…?"
Conrad's eyes said, 'This could be a big problem."
With a relaxed wink and smile, Yozak agreed.
Yuuri looked down at his shoes. "I think this is nothing, really. I was asking for information on somebody Wolfram just happened to mention." As each second ticked by, his face slowly revealed worry. There was a hint of something that seemed like jealousy, too, and confusion about what to do next. By asking the question about Tasha, he'd opened himself up to a lot more questions that he wasn't ready to answer.
The spy could read his emotions only too easily. "If it's any consolation," Yozak said, "she pursued him, became his shadow…and he gradually accepted her feelings." The spy shoved his hands back into his pockets. "But that's the usual way it is with him."
Conrad nodded. "What Yozak means is that Wolfram has had nobles and commoners alike approach him since his Coming of Age Party decades ago. So, that's the norm with him."
"Except in your case," the spy teased. "He'd been chasing after you for years because you never even noticed him." Yozak was about to add something like "What a letdown that had to be, chasing your own fiancé?" followed by a laugh, but one slight glare from Conrad shut him up. "Oh…sorry," he said with a boyish "Oh, my bad" kind of shrug. Just because it was the truth, it didn't mean that he had to say it.
Yuuri nodded at that and mumbled, "No, you're right."
"And, with that," Yozak said with a glance of apology to Conrad, which was easily accepted, "I'll be off." Footsteps softly padded on the jogging trail. He muttered to himself as he walked past Conrad, almost brushing shoulders with, "Gee, I hope I have someone to play cards with tonight. It will be terribly lonely if there's no one."
"Lonely? You?" Conrad said, loud enough to be heard. "Never …"
"There's always a first time," came the amused voice.
Lonely? Is that what I've done to Wolfram all this time? Damn… Right now, I really miss him and it…hurts. I can't imagine feeling this way…for years… Then, Yuuri turned to Conrad, "I don't really feel like running anymore. Can we leave? Go to the baths? I'd like to talk there…and ask you a few things. That will give us another half hour before my lessons."
"Sure."
Sitting on the edge of the tub, Yuuri slipped his feet into the royal bath. The sudden shock of the warmth, pricking in like needles at first, soon mellowed as he got used to it. "I don't know what to do about Wolfram…and me…." Yuuri still had a white towel around his waist and his back was to Conrad. He opened his mouth to say something and then, just as quickly, he shut it. It was embarrassing. No, Yuuri thought, I really need to talk about this. That's why we're here. There was a frustrated huff coming from the double black. He'd try again. "Did you ever feel…?" Desperate to have someone, but felt too uncertain as to the way to go about it…? He smacked a hand over his face. Oh, how can I say that? This is Conrad's little brother we're talking about. And the engagement is broken—over with. He groaned inwardly.
"Did I ever feel…what?" Conrad asked gently, sitting next to Yuuri. He rested a friendly hand on the double black's shoulder to show support.
Yuuri turned to him and saw his godfather's eyes widen for reasons he couldn't fathom. What's wrong…? I don't… He blinked at Conrad. And, then he followed the man's narrowed gaze.
He was staring down at his chest!
Oh my gosh! The hickey! HELL! Yuuri smacked a hand over the purple mark and winced openly. It was sore and, now, it was throbbing a little.
"I…understand…" Conrad said mechanically.
Oh, no-o-o…you don't! Yuuri turned his head away. This was bad! It was very, very bad!
"It's okay, Yuuri," Conrad sighed. He'd seen this moment coming. Over the past two years, when his brother and godson didn't get along, he imagined this day and felt anxious about it. One of them would decide to find affection elsewhere. It was only natural, he decided, that it be Yuuri because he was really too young to settle down. And Wolfram, who had lived decades longer and had more life experience, was the one pressuring for the marriage. But, broken engagement aside, all of the experience in the world would not prepare him for the suffering he'd go through once he realized that all hope was gone—that he'd finally lost the only person he'd ever truly wanted in his life. And Conrad knew that, even now, Wolfram dearly loved Yuuri—whether The Maou was a part of the equation or not.
Conrad understood what the ache felt like—losing someone that you wanted and needed by your side. But, he was also in a bind. Conrad knew only too well that Wolfram would never go to him with this. He might go to Gwendal. But, other than that, he wasn't sure who the blond would confide in. Then, his mind flashed to Yozak. They'd gotten to know each other better as of late. He'd ask the spy for a favor tonight while they played cards.
"It's not what you think it is." The double black laughed nervously.
"No, I'm pretty sure I know what it is. And it is fine, Yuuri." Conrad leaned back a little and cursed himself. Trouble was right. Her words, "I don't envy you," when they first met were ringing in his ears. "If the person who gave you that is here, just be quiet about it. Your engagement to Wolfram is over. So, no one will blame you. But, status and lineage mean a lot. As unfair as that sounds… And you will have more problems than you bargained for if the person who gave that to you doesn't have the social standing to be with a king." He leaned back on his arms and looked at the ceiling. "I'm sorry about that. But it is the reality."
Yuuri's jaw dropped a little. He couldn't believe Conrad would think this. In his mind, he could just see an angry blond pointing and shouting "cheater" and "immoral king!" even if it was Wolfram who'd given him the kiss mark in the first place. This is so stupid, Yuuri thought.
"On the other hand, if the person is on Earth, no one will know for a time—if you're discrete." As a godfather, he felt it necessary to mention that part. But, he knew Yuuri had not been to Earth since they'd come back from their journey. The person, obviously, was in Shin Makoku.
Yuuri rubbed the mark on his chest. He'd kept it because it was from Wolfram and was a "reminder." He didn't want to heal the mark even though he had the power to do so. But, now, the whole situation felt weird, and he couldn't hide how sick he felt inside from indecision.
Seeing Yuuri's reaction, Conrad said gently, "There was a time in my life when I was wild, too. And kind of unruly…"
"I can't imagine people seeing you that way. You're too hard on yourself," Yuuri said with a sad chuckle. He just couldn't picture his godfather with a rep like that.
"It's true, though. Ask Yozak if you don't believe me." He remembered his "old self" and laughed at him. "I suppose every man just has to go through that at some point in his life. It's a part of growing up."
"Really?" Yuuri said, now feeling a bit better about his romantic entanglements on Earth and his feelings for Wolfram. "I never thought of it as a phase."
Conrad smiled at him knowingly. "Puppy love? Yes, you'll probably fall in and out of it a few times. Then, you'll have a better idea of what you want and who you want to be with."
"Fall in and out…of love? And everyone goes through it…'' Yuuri's features took on a concerned look again. Unconsciously, he tightened his fists at the thought of losing Wolfram. Maybe, Wolfram was already slipping away from him. The first step might be that he didn't care anymore. No more verbal explosions and shouts of "cheater." No more races around the castle for simply smiling at the maids. And the second would be feeling tired, detached, of all the things going on around him. After all, Wolfram had made the kiss mark. And the blond that he knew would consider them "together" if he ever got the chance to lay a lip on him. Now, Wolfram gave him the impression that doing such things, while naked and in a bed no less, was nothing. It was a strange attitude coming from someone who had been celibate for years lying next to his dense fiancé.
Conrad glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Did Wolfram know that you had… someone? Is that why he broke the engagement so quickly?" Then, he looked at Yuuri directly. "Wait… He knew…and let you go so that you could be happy. That's the only answer." Conrad's blood ran cold. Wolfram. Wretched. Abandoned. He'd known, somehow, and chose the only way out that would preserve his dignity and give the illusion that his heart could take it.
The double black couldn't deny it even though Conrad had the details all wrong. He felt ashamed.
"And, now, The Maou wants Wolfram and you…don't." Conrad whispered it to himself, thinking out loud. That had to be it because Murata and Yozak had filled him in on some little "tid bits" of information.
Yuuri felt a stab. "It's…complicated." The less said, the better until he could talk to Wolfram again. Yuuri crossed his arms defensively. Inside, he felt himself wanting to just crawl away to somewhere where he could sleep this feeling off. He wasn't sure what to call it. But, whatever it was, it made his soul feel heavy, cold, and dark.
Yuuri kicked his feet in frustration. Then, he inhaled sharply when a wide hand seized his forearm and shook slightly with it in its tight grip. "Yuuri…Wolfram didn't mention Natasha to you because…" His brown eyes darkened ominously. "He didn't say…that he wanted to join her….?"
Onyx eyes widened at the thought. "No! Of course not!"
"Are you certain that he didn't want to die?" Conrad could feel his heart beating hard, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. There was something reminiscent of the battlefield in this moment and it hurt. Conrad's fingers stiffened. It seemed forever before his godson spoke again.
"If I thought that," Yuuri said with an edge of panic in his voice, "would we be sitting here…talking?" He cringed to block out the hideous image in his head--Wolfram's grave. "Besides, Wolfram is proud. He'd never fall on his sword or set himself on fire. Taking his own life would be weakness. And you just said that he doesn't want to be weak."
"Sorry," Conrad said and let go of Yuuri's arm. "I'm just…worried about him. That's all." His hair was sticking to the back of his neck and he pushed it to the side. "I want what's best for you both. And, if that's not each other…" He finished with a shrug, downcast.
Yuuri lowered his head, too, but was rubbing his sore arm from where Conrad had gripped it. "I can't move forward like this."
"Just remember… Take all the time you need." Conrad placed a brotherly arm across Yuuri's shoulders, but his tone sounded sad.
"That's the problem, Conrad. I don't have time anymore." Not from Wolfram and not from what The Maou said, either. Then, it came to him. He would follow Trouble's advice after all. Yes, he would. "Now, I know what I need to do next." And I have a goal.
It had been two days since he last saw Wolfram in the hallway with a stack of files for Gwendal's meeting with the nobles, which was annoying, to say the least, because there was no time to talk. The blond, walking at his brother's elbow, nodded politely and continued on.
Now that Yuuri was here, he had to admit that sitting down to dinner was uncomfortable for just about everyone in the room. Conrad and Gwendal exchanged looks with Günter. Gisela simply blinked with a frown, but continued to chat with an overly enthusiastic Lady Cheri—which was just like her when things were rough, cover it up with happiness. Murata Ken waited happily, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes when they met up with the double black's.
When Wolfram arrived, he traded seats with Greta—who, not understanding the symbolism, was thrilled to have a father on either side of her. She took the seat eagerly and stared at her Papa Wolf with a dreamy glow in her eyes. Wolfram nagged her into eating her vegetables and praised her for her table manners. She was "the perfect princess" in his opinion. And she giggled.
"I've been wanting to ask… What did you do to your hair and eyes?" Greta said with a wondrous look. She reached up to touch a wheat-colored strand. His glossy locks seemed to be full of the khaki lowlights.
The conversations stopped around them. Somewhere, a spork hit a plate. There was an eerie silence that Wolfram chose to ignore.
"It's a little different, isn't it?" Wolfram said nervously. His mirror was a constant reminder that his looks had changed. Luckily, the sunny blond roots were coming back. So, it was easy to see why she thought it was hair dye.
"When can I do that to my hair? I want to make it pretty, too!" She turned to Yuuri, pleading. "Please, Daddy Yuuri! I want to look like Papa Wolf."
Yuuri pruned up at the very idea. His daughter was not ready for hair dye. Nope. "You have to get a little older before you're ready." Then, he gave her shoulders a light hug. "For now, you're beautiful the way you are."
"We'll work on him," Wolfram chuckled into his salad and took a big bite of lettuce.
Yuuri regarded him closely. It was the first time since they got back that he'd heard Wolfram sound amused without a hint of worry or remorse, and it was also the first time, in awhile, that Wolfram had acknowledged his presence besides that brief smile in the hallway while his arms were full of file folders.
"Wolfram?" Yuuri said and got a vague "Hm?" from the blond. Nonchalantly, the double black stroked the place on his chest where his hickey was fading. Even through the material, it was slightly tender when he did it. "Then, I guess, we have a lot to talk about."
"Do we?" Dark green eyes flashed a fierce spark to communicate his insistence that they keep their moment alone secret—but, for appearance's sake, his face wore a thin smile.
"Consider it a 'reminder'…?" Yuuri returned with a thin smile of his own and dug into his salad, too. And, for once, he didn't care that it had sassy little chunks of tangerine in it.
"This was what I wanted to show you."
The voice was familiar and the double black stopped in his tracks.
"I'd say…"
Just hearing it put him in high spirits.
"…Right at this point…"
Yuuri walked into Gwendal's office and stopped inside. He folded his arms against his chest and watched Wolfram, his "Wolfram," at work—standing dutifully next to Gwendal and pointing down at the forms spread across the large, wooden desk.
"See? Yuuri Heika keeps approving these when he doesn't mean to because the form is confusing. Just look at how it's worded. I can design another one, giving clearer instructions, and have it on your desk by tomorrow morning."
Gwendal frowned down at the papers, but nodded—seeing his brother's point. "I understand what you mean by that.... But we've been using these forms for thirty years…"
"Anything that's easier to read will be great!" Yuuri said enthusiastically. He approached the pair, who were surprised to see him, with a wide grin.
Wolfram stood upright and cocked his head coyly to one side, letting the early morning sun that was streaming through the window caress his face. "I thought that would be the reaction."
"Well, if it is a help to Heika…" Gwendal grumped and gave his king an even look.
"It will," Yuuri brightened. "Wolfram's great at organizing." Wisely, he omitted the part about him organizing the king's bed chambers and insisting upon clothes always being tossed into the hamper. Still, the image of undressing and getting ready for bed played in his mind. Wolfram's skin had an ethereal glow to it, and there was a cute little dimple on his…
Yuuri raked his hand through his hair and pushed the mental picture aside for the moment.
The blond blushed at Yuuri's complement and tried to busy himself. "I'd better take these," he muttered, bending at the waist slightly to snatch a thick stack of papers with one hand, "and file them."
"Impressive," Yuuri said almost blissfully at the bent over view before him and got another hard stare from Gwendal that seemed to say "That's my brother. So, back off."
Yuuri forced confused, rounded puppy eyes. He'd learned to do that from Greta—which gave the administrator the impression that he might have been wrong after all. Maybe his mind was in the gutter and not his king's—which was, according to reputation, beyond the double black as the "Straight-As-An-Arrow-Clueless King."
"My liaison is quite efficient, granted." He coughed into his fist and added. "You'll be seeing the benefits soon."
"Eh?" The double black didn't quite get it. But Wolfram did and grinned openly. "Oh, yes… These…" With his left hand, he scooped up a towering stack of papers.
"You have to file those, too. Right, Wolfram?" The double black's tone was almost teasing. It was great to be with Wolfram again.
Dark green eyes danced. It felt terrific until he heard the words, "Oh, no. These papers go to the maou's desk."
The smile melted like a snowball in a volcano. "Wait! What did you just say?" His onyx eyes bugged out at the sheer size of the stack.
"Apparently, my liaison is far more skilled at paperwork than I anticipated," Gwendal said, puffing his chest out. Wolfram lowered his head behind the paperwork tower to hide a devious smirk. "So," the administrator when on, "you can have all of your documents ready in a more timely manner."
"But! Wait!" Yuuri called to Wolfram as he disappeared out the door. "G-w-e-n-d-a-l," Yuuri whined with a river of comic tears running down his face, "that stack is huge! I'll bet no one even sorted through it for priority. Worst of all, that has got to be at least two days of work!"
"Sort? Of course someone did…" He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Someone always goes through the documents so that your time isn't wasted."
"Oh, really?" He frowned, disbelieving. He knew what "normal" was. And that was not it.
Gwendal smoothed back a strand of hair and muttered in an amused tone, "In this case, it was Wolfram."
The knife twisted inside of Yuuri for the briefest second.
"This is revenge, isn't it?" the double black muttered darkly.
He was greeted with a devilish grin from the administrator behind the desk. "I'm sorry, Heika. I didn't quite hear that." It was insincere, every word. When Yuuri's face twitched in response, Gwendal added, "If there's nothing else…?"
Yuuri pursed his lips together and left the office thinking, Oh, there will be something else. And I'll do my best to make it happen.
The double black's hand patted the lunch tray—searching for a crustless sandwich from the small stack that Sangria had made for him. He took a sip of the green tea that he'd brought back from Earth while reading through what seemed to be the fiftieth confusing document from the "leaning pile of paperwork" threatening him on the edge of his desk.
The door opened and closed without so much as him looking up. Maybe, there was a knock that preceded it. He didn't really care.
"I'm a little bit busy," Yuuri said offhandedly as he nibbled the edge of his sandwich. This one's fried egg and tomato. Not bad, really… Footsteps came. "Too much to do… Sorry about that." He took a bigger bite, chewed, and swallowed without really tasting it, all the while underlining something that was written in an illegible hand. What was that word, anyway? Aw…and it would have to be the last word in the sentence…the verb!
"Yuuri Heika."
"Hmm…" His eyes narrowed at the document. They seemed to want permission to excavate on the royal lands near Shinou's Temple. That would be a "no" in his book. Oh, wait… Murata's the one who put this request in. So, I guess, it's okay with Shinou after all. Just going through the motions of asking, eh? Fine… Then, I don't care, either…
"Yuuri Heika?"
The blond stood before the desk and leaned over a little, trying to get his attention.
"Wolfram?" Yuuri blinked up. It was as though the young man had just materialized in front of him. "I'm sorry," he said with a smile coming to his face, "I didn't hear you come in."
"Obviously," Wolfram stated with his arms folded across his chest.
"I didn't mean to ignore you." The double black put down the remains of his sandwich. It was rude to be the only one eating. In fact, just the concept made him uneasy.
"I came to see why you didn't come to lunch. Usually, you're quite happy to skip out on this," he gestured to the stack of papers. "But…maybe, I was wrong about you… You're working hard."
Yuuri smiled a little and said, "Wrong about me? Ah…well…I don't know about that…" He got a confused look for that one. Then, the double black went on. "With the forms you're designing, I should have an easier time of it, though."
"Of course," the blond agreed with a nod.
"So," Yuuri said with his onyx eyes peering up with warmth in them, "I never really told you 'thank you' for doing that." He got up from his chair. His body was stiff from sitting down in the same position for three hours straight—since his last break to go down to the kitchens and request his lunch be brought to him.
It almost hurt to move. Nonetheless, Yuuri circled the desk to be with Wolfram and stumbled over his own feet.
A pair of hands caught him around the waist and pulled him in. The body was lean, masculine, and all too familiar.
"How long have you been sitting behind that desk?" he demanded to know. Green eyes were annoyed and there was the most adorable pout.
Shyly, Yuuri rested his arms on Wolfram's shoulders and saw a slight blush coming to the blond. "It's not important…how long I've been there." He shrugged a little. "I've got work to do…and I'll do it…just like you." No matter how dull it is. But being with you now, like this, has made it all worth it. Yuuri lowered his head a bit, feeling shy all over again for saying what he felt. He could feel Wolfram's concerned stare.
"This isn't like you." A pale hand with narrow fingers fought back black bangs. The palm was slightly cool. Yuuri closed his eyes and pressed into the heavenly feeling. Wolfram was touching his face! The gesture and concern made him happy.
Wolfram's mouth turned down at the edges. "I can't tell if you have a fever or not."
"It's not important," Yuuri said, letting his arms slide down over Wolfram's shoulders and over his arms. Gently, Yuuri rested his chin on Wolfram's shoulder. The warm, summer fragrance of sunflowers came back. Today, the hair smelled like jasmine. He must be trying a new shampoo. It was then, that the double black noticed Wolfram's neck was red. He squinted at it. He leaned back and looked again. Wolfram had blushed a deep tomato from his face down to his neck. Briefly, Yuuri wondered how far the blush actually extended down. He tried to peek down the stiff collar. No luck.
"I…um…" was all the blond could say.
"Problem?" Yuuri asked with false innocence. He knew very well what the issue was. And it was great to see Wolfram off balance.
"I think…you should…" He began to untangle himself from his king. If someone should enter, it would look bad—mostly for himself. Yuuri, being single and of a higher status, would be okay. And, somehow, in his heart, that felt totally unfair. The blond tried to shrug off Yuuri's arms.
Maou! Yuuri called in his mind. Help me again, here. I almost had Wolfram where I wanted him to be. But, he'll avoid me after this. I just know it. Help me… like you did the other day…going to Wolfram's room. I know I'm asking a lot. But this is important and I know you want us to be together…all three of us. I'm really trying here…
A second ticked by. Then, it came. The answer was a deep laugh that only the double black could hear.
"Hey," the blond practically hissed with hard tugs, now, to back it up, "you need to let me go. We can't do this." Yuuri was spacing out and that annoyed Wolfram. But some part of him was concerned again. Yuuri wasn't acting normally. Why did his face just blank out like that for a second?
The arms held Wolfram tighter. "Let you go? Request denied," Yuuri said with his face close to Wolfram's. There was a possessive look that seemed unnatural to the generally "clueless" double black. A knowing smile came. The blond swallowed hard and watched him transform. The eyes became dark slits, the body grew slightly taller and widened more at the shoulders. Black hair fell to his shoulders, tickling Wolfram's face along the way. There was a cool, blue haze around him that swirled in a slowly opening spiral at their feet.
"Maou?" Wolfram breathed. He sensed the pressure of one hand sliding ever so slowly to the small of his back. It stroked a soft little pattern that Wolfram could feel through his jacket.
"We have a reminder for you, too." The voice was Yuuri's and The Maou's—entwined. Wolfram had never heard their voices like that before.
"We?" He almost squeaked it.
"Yuuri and I… You didn't give Yuuri the chance, you know." The head tilted slightly to see what the blond's reaction would be.
Wolfam's heart drummed in his chest. He couldn't believe that Yuuri would change into The Maou—now?—at this moment in time. Once again, there was no danger that he could perceive. The only problem was Yuuri getting too close—again—and giving him false hope.
"The reminder, of course, is this…" The Maou fingered Wolfram's antique neckchain in a smooth, sensuous movement against the cravat. There was a slight weight to the neckchain that Wolfram never noticed until then. With two quick motions, it was off and lying on the desk beside them with a rolling-rattling sound against the wooden tabletop. The cravat was next. When did he untie that? Wolfram wondered vaguely, surprised he could even shift his eyes from his king. Their lips were so close. All one of them had to do was move a little and then… A finger dipped into his collar. It stroked the skin between the dark blue material with gold piping and his pale neck, taking in the firm but soft texture.
Wolfram couldn't breathe. He really couldn't. He could hear the top three buttons being pushed through and feel the material being stretched back. Determined fingers gripped the white shirt. The material ripped, with a harsh sound in his ears, but he didn't care.
"You belong to us," came the husky voice as lips whispered against where his neck and shoulder joined. "Never forget that." Teeth sunk in and Wolfram gasped at the pressure. Fingers traced patterns across his back and a tongue darted at the spot, saliva dripping down in little rills before the next bite came down on the same place. Wolfram leaned his head back and felt the arm around his waist tighten. The fingers clinched into the dark blue material—almost pulling it away from his neck savagely. Another darted tongue followed by another nip. Wolfram rested his hands at The Maou's waist, refusing to let them tremble.
Lips against his skin. His body felt warm. Wolfram moaned. He couldn't stop himself. His head was still tilted back. Still breathing hard, clinging to The Maou.
A vague thought floated. What if he doesn't stop?
The door knob rattled with a single knock.
"I'm back and looking for our favorite little prince. Seen him arou-," Yozak said as he entered the room and then stopped in his tracks, rooted to the spot. What he saw took his breath away.
The aura was dark and dangerous. Slowly, The Maou turned to the spy with slitted black eyes that were hungry, feral. He had Wolfram clutched in his arms. But it seemed that the white uniform shirt had been torn away at the collar and was hanging limply. Folds of shredded white material fluttered with the movement of the spiral of energy at their feet.
Getting caught was mortifying for Wolfram. He tucked his face into the side of The Maou's neck with a tearfully whispered "damn it." This had never happened before. So, he didn't know how to react. And, worst of all, he was certain that Conrad would learn of this in an instant.
"Wolfram," The Maou said huskily as he wrapped the blue uniformed soldier closer to his body, "is a little bit busy at the moment. Come back later."
It was an order, not a request.