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A Marriage of State	By : Niko Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 2727 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or any rights to its story, characters or plot. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 9
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Chapter Nine

Outside the areas dressed and prepared for the entertainment of guests were long halls of stately rooms set aside for the overnight comfort of royalty and dignitaries whose needs were too great for an inn to manage. As they walked behind the attendant, Wolfram saw guards of Gwnedal's olive regiment posted outside twin doors, keeping vigilance over the empty room of the Shin Makoku king. He was sure the guards recognized him but their steely faces looked through him as they walked past, eyes meant only to observe threats. Not too long before that would have been his room. With the taste of Yuuri's kiss still lingering on his lips, Wolfram walked faster to match his husband's stride and retreated into their own room flanked in Trebic red.
The room was simple but masculine with a large bed and thick blankets of baby blue for warmth. There were dark wood accents and heavy chairs around the fireplace whose hearth was being attended to by a young girl in a white apron. It was cozy, certainly warmer than the gardens and halls. Soon the flames took hold with a snap and crackle over the cut logs and the young girl bowed and left, door closed and world left outside of the princes' chamber. Wolfram dropped into the seat of a chair unceremoniously and began to remove his boots, delighted by the warmth even at the restlessness in his gut. His pulse had yet to steady with his heart still fluttering madly in his chest. He could blame the cold for the slight tremble in his fingers as they struggled with the thick laces of his boots, at least.
Alfgeir sighed loudly as he pulled his chair across from Wolfram's, the wood giving a warning creak as his heavy body plopped into it. He stroked his beard, watching Wolfram in the firelight. "I don't blame him. You look beautiful tonight."
Wolfram paused for a moment then pulled his left boot off, tossing it aside to begin on the right. "I'm sorry," he said, head bowed.
"Don't be. You know I don't mind."
"I do." Wolfram threw his last boot to join the first, socked feet stretched out before the flames. "I don't accept this kind of behavior from you, I certainly don't accept it from myself."
The ginger man chuckled. "You take everything so seriously. I have to say I like that about you." Alfgeir leaned across, giving Wolfram's knee a pat. "I wonder if you will still be as stubborn when I'm grey and wrinkled and you're still beautiful."
"I vowed as much and I am a man of my word.”
“I know you are, pet. I’m not accusing you of anything.” He leaned further and kissed his cheek, coarse beard scratching lightly at his face as he rose from his chair and stretched, walking over to their chest of clothes brought in off their ship.
The fire kicked off sparks as it bit into the wood, flickering brightly as it danced with its smoke in an arc towards the flue. Under the shadow of the tall back of his armchair, Wolfram placed his face in his hands and leaned over his lap, unable to keep the fight from his thoughts as it played over and over again in his mind. Yuuri yelling, Yuuri grabbing, Yuuri pleading, Yuuri kissing, Yuuri holding him not like he held his friends but with strength and determination. It was what he’d always wanted but never been ready to receive. Loving Yuuri was as normal and natural as the beating of his heart--as was being rejected by him; Yuuri feeling anything for him was purely fantasy. But Yuuri had kissed him first, had kissed him back. Running his fingers through his bangs, Wolfram pulled on his own hair, keeping a frustrated scream inside behind teeth clenched shut.
---
Yuuri felt as though every eye in the place was on him as he walked inside, patches of snow still dampening his hair as he held tight to Gwendal's jacket. Even guests who's backs were to him gave him the distinct impression of watching his every move with critical stares. They knew. Everyone knew. When he got home Shori would know and his father and mother and the entire baseball team as well. Everyone living and dead in every corner of the known universe had just seen him kissing another guy. Yuuri's face burned red as he ducked into the collar of the borrowed jacket like a turtle retreating into his shell. It wasn't very manly but thus far his man-meter was waning and couldn't sink any lower. He'd been confused and panicked, it was a spur of the moment thing that meant absolutely nothing. Thinking on his feet was generally not his best, outcomes fine but means generally getting through on a thread. A kiss to get someone to be quiet was just as effective as a slap, surely. It didn't necessarily mean he was interested in Wolfram like that.
But then there was Wolfram's kiss. That hadn't been in a panic, hadn't been to stop the fight or change the subject. It had been a real kiss and it had felt... Yuuri's fingers ghosted over the still sensitive flesh of his own lips. Of course, it made sense. Boys and girls had the same lips, it worked the same way, just because he enjoyed kissing didn't mean he liked another guy. It just meant he hadn't cared that it was Wolfram's lips on his or his body pressed against him or his tongue-
-oh. Oh no. Yuuri walked faster through the halls, nearly running as he slid around corners, avoiding other guests with mumbled apologies for nearly split drinks or crashes. He stumbled over the tassels on rugs and pushed off the walls until finally coming to his own room, doors held open for him by men well paid for a mostly uneventful job. He slowed down so as not to alarm them, smiling a little too big as he nervously laughed his way into his chamber, closing the door behind him. He threw Gwendal's jacket over the back of a chair as he held on tight to the upholstery, staring down at himself in shock and disbelief.
The crotch of his trousers was tented, a very familiar heat fueling an automatic response through his pulse. He was turned on, not fully hard but quite piqued. He thought he had left such embarrassments behind him with puberty, the random flashes of arousal with no source or direction. Not that it had exactly been random, not that he couldn't name the source. Not that he didn't know exactly what had made his head swim, heart jump in his chest and, apparently, loins awaken. He rested his head on folded arms, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself. Still part of him denied it, screaming like a child that it was just part of being a guy and didn't mean anything, that Wolfram's feminine face had him confused, that his thin body wasn't necessarily unmistakable for a flat chested woman's, that this happened to lots of guys after having their first kiss, that his worrying and anxiety were manifesting in new ways to try and find relief. The simple answer was just too simple: he was attracted to Wolfram.
It wasn't too far a stretch. He'd always thought he was beautiful, had never denied that the mazoku prince possessed physical traits that were admired. It had never made a difference before how beautiful the brat had been but he wasn't that same brat anymore. The beautiful face had a beautiful heart and soul slowly chiseled out from under the ugly rough of prejudice and hate. Somehow a lovely man had become simply a lovey person no longer judged by gender and Yuuri's pulsing arousal was proof enough that some very primal part of him did not care in the slightest that below the belt a similar proof of manhood hung. While the thought made him nervous, it did not help in the dismissal of his persistent erection.
He raises his head and looked around the room, giving the door a long, quiet check as the shadows blocking the light below it staid stationary at their post. Slowly he moved his hands, removing them from the back of the chair to see to the removal of his belt, careful of making any sound for fear of being caught. He undid the buttons of his fly, biting his lip as necessity caused his fingers to press against his wanting. The black bikini cut panties were becoming somewhat painful though he had to admit they did a better job than boxers at containing the unexpected. He pulled the strings loose on one side, the black cloth flapping over and out of the way, letting his erection slide free.
Biting his bottom lip he wrapped his fingers around his cock and ran his thumb up to the head, drawing the foreskin taut as he rubbed it. Wolfram was uncircumcised as well. He'd seen but hadn't really been looking at his fully naked body as he laid frozen in his coffin shaped coffer. Cold as it had to be, he wouldn't pass any judgement. The body had been no different from his own, though. If he could touch himself like this, would it really be so...
Yuuri laid one arm back over the top of the chair, leaning his forehead against it as he let out a long, shaky breath, hand moving up and down along his own flesh. He imagined Wolfram's hand in place of his own, knowledgeable but curious fingers feeling along his body in ways Yuuri hadn't thought to touch. Wolfram's lips on his, his neck, maybe even-
-Yuuri trembled, stifling a moan as he bit at the insides of his lip, body warm with the cold of the snow forgotten. Wolfram probably would if he asked him to, maybe even if he didn't. Yuuri could almost imagine the hot breath and moist pressure against his lips being pressed against him there. It was almost enough to finish him off. He felt a little weird thinking about his friend as he touched himself but it had been thoughts of him in the first place that lead to the abuse. Wolfram's kiss had been like a fever, a contagion passed on and growing stronger with every minute.
The fever broke with a grunt, spilling against his palm and he leaned heavily into the chair for strength. He kept Wolfram's name against his tongue, waiting for the race of his pulse to die down as his breath came in long, trembling sighs.
For months Wolfram had been at his side or running to find him, laying beside him in his bed and reminding him at ever turn that he was there for Yuuri, to be Yuuri's, to love him and protect him and walk the dangerous path beside him no matter where it lead. At any other time, he could have pulled Wolfram aside and kissed him and Wolfram would have been there to accept his feelings. Yuuri wasn't sure whom he was more mad at that it would never be that easy again.
Standing straight, Yuuri waddled with his pants below his knees to the trash bin, finding a bit of crumpled paper inside to wipe his hand off on before pulling his clothes back in order and visiting the wash basin to scrub away the residue. He'd only been standing there a minute before the door opened, Gwendal marching in to Yuuri's white faced panic.
"G-Gwendal.. H- Uh, you're jacket. It's on the chair. Thank you."
Gwendal spared it a brief look, nodding slightly as he verified its presence. "It seems the general belief is that you and Wolfram were having an argument over custody of Greta. Anyone who thinks they saw otherwise is either remaining silent or is limited to myself and Prince Alfgeir."
Yuuri swallowed hard, not sure how observant the older man was or if there were any clues to observe. "So, what does that mean? What happens now?"
"Nothing happens. We board our ship in the morning and sail home."
"Without Wolfram."
Gwendal nodded slowly, eyes averted. "As was the plan."
The king clenched his fists, not feeling in the least bit relaxed anymore. "Why am I the only person who sees just how wrong this is?!" he asked, unable to keep his voice steady with his time running out.
Gwendal stood perfectly still, haunted eyes looking past him for a long time before. He looked ancient and wise, taught by pain and grief rather than books. Slowly he turned his back and stepped towards the door. "You're not the only one who loves him," he said over his shoulder. He pushed the bedroom doors open and left, his guards closing the door behind him for the king's continued safety.
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A Marriage of State