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Bloom	By : chayron Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 9095 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I'm not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Bloom
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39
- 40-Part 40
- 41-Part 41
- 42-Part 42
- 43-Part 43
- 44-Part 44
- 45-Part 45
- 46-Part 46
- 47-Part 47
- 48-Part 48
- 49-Part 49
- 50-Part 50
- 51-Part 51
- 52-Part 52
- 53-Part 53
- 54-Part 54
- 55-Part 55
- 56-Part 56
- 57-Part 57
- 58-Part 58
- 59-Part 59
- 60-Part 60
- 61-Part 61
- 62-Part 62
- 63-Part 63
- 64-Part 64
- 65-Part 65
- 18
- 19
- 20
Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.
Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.
A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.
A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.
A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.
A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.
A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.
Bloom
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra
Part 19
Wolfram was pulled out of his thoughts about his and his brothers’ relationships when Athara pulled violently at the bell rope next to the sofa. The sound of the bell echoed from the first floor. The youngest von Ashira had probably been talking all this time, cursing and demeaning Eldara, but Wolfram realized that he hadn’t heard a word of it while being preoccupied by his own thoughts. That was perfect – he didn’t want to hear anything anymore from that poisonous mouth.
When the owner rushed in, about twenty seconds later, Athara rose from the sofa bellowing something, his tongue hardly listening to him as he stumbled over his own words. The owner understood him, though, and, with a nod, disappeared quickly. Wolfram was much too disgruntled to ask or to even care about what Athara had wanted with the man. He stared at his glass, his eyes glazed over with the mess bubbling inside him.
The blond jerked and nearly spilled the contents of his glass at someone’s loud guffaws. Lowering his glass, he looked at the door, which opened to let in two females. He gawked at them while they approached the sofa. Despite the fact that it wasn’t very warm in the building, both of them wore light, short-sleeved dresses with wide necklines. Their long untied hair spilled over their shoulders and down their backs. One was a redhead, the other a blonde.
While he apathetically stared at them, Athara rose to grab the red-haired one and dragged her with himself onto the sofa, making Wolfram bounce. The woman giggled mindlessly, her legs flailing, hitting the corner of the coffee table. She yelped as Wolfram’s wineglass tipped over and started rolling over the table. Wolfram frowned at the spilled glass and reached out to lift it.
While Wolfram was looking for a napkin or a towel to throw onto the puddle, the second woman slid onto his lap. Confused, Wolfram stared at her plunging neckline. As if through a mist, he could hear Athara and the red-haired whore laugh. He peeled his eyes away from the intimidating breasts and turned his head aside. As the red-haired whore unbuckled von Ashira’s belt, Wolfram’s interest sparked but died out as soon as the woman lowered her head and her hair fell sideways to cover the view.
The wet, slurping sounds that followed made Wolfram sickly. The wine was having trouble staying in his stomach, but he wasn’t certain if the cause of his sudden condition was the wine or the mess in his head.
The woman on his lap rubbed herself against him. She had already unbuttoned his jacket and was going for his shirt. Her smell mixed with her sweet perfume made Wolfram shiver in disgust. He grabbed at her hands and pushed her away. She slid off his lap, giving him a seductive smile. Swiveling her hips provocatively, she started unbuttoning her dress. She wore nothing underneath. Her lulling breasts fell out, her cloven crotch now in full view. Then she dove at him, her naked skin causing friction against his clothes, her sweet smell assaulting his nostrils again.
Wolfram pushed the woman aside, rose from the sofa and staggered past her. “I’m going home,” he declared in a slur, brushing the female’s hands off when she tried to hold him. His clumsy fingers groped at his buttons in an attempt to get his attire in order.
“L-let go!” he hissed when the whore grabbed at his arm.
Athara was too drunk and too far gone to care what Wolfram did. He took the red-head’s hair into a firmer hold to keep her head down.
“Let him be,” he croaked huskily.
Wolfram staggered out of the room while the whore sent curses after him. He managed to climb downstairs without stumbling and headed straight for the door leading outside. The doorman went to find his coat. Wolfram flopped down into an armchair in the hall. He turned his head when one of the doors opened, the noise filling the lobby. It was the owner rushing to him. Wolfram looked past him at what was happening behind the door. Three men were fucking a woman. One had his cock in her mouth, the second was fucking her ass and the last one was drilling her crotch. She was grumbling and gargling, and Wolfram wondered whether it was in pain or pleasure. Disgusted, he turned away and staggered to his feet. He reached out for his coat the doorman brought.
“You’re leaving already, Sir?” the owner asked.
Fumbling with his buttons, Wolfram didn’t look at him. “Yes.” He started checking his pockets and soon found his pouch. “How much- how much do I owe you?” he rasped out, suddenly feeling that the air has become stuffy. His head was spinning madly. He was suddenly very hot.
“It will be better if we step outside, Sir,” the owner said, taking him by his arm and leading to the door. “Nothing, Sir. Your friend is most generous. I will be most grateful if Sir becomes our patron as well.”
“No,” Wolfram said sharply standing on the stairs. He leaned against the metal railing and took a few silver coins out of his pouch. He clumsily pushed them into the owner’s pocket. That should be more than enough for the wine and the pie. “I won’t come back here.”
Wolfram’s head was still spinning but he felt better in the cool air. He could see the owner shivering. Without saying another word, he descended down the stairs and went to find a horse. He found seven in the stables nearby. He grabbed one and dragged it out into the cold night’s air. While the bodyguards stared at him in amusement, he swung himself onto the saddle. Their grins died out at once.
Once Wolfram was on his horse, his only thought was how to return to the castle as soon as possible. He realized he was drunk, and awfully so, but he was already in a frenzy of speed and escape. Something was tearing at his chest and wanted out so much that he felt like screaming.
When Wolfram was galloping past the stables and into the wide road, he heard shouts behind him and that only made him urge the horse to go faster. The guards had not expected he would manage to get onto the horse in that condition, and now it was too late.
It was cloudy, but the night wasn’t very dark, as the thin sheet of snow covered the ground and the light which escaped the clouds reflected off it. The road and trees blurred past Wolfram’s eyes, and he had no awareness how he had covered the distance and rose into the hill. His head only cleared when his way was barred by two guards at the castle gate.
His horse’s sides were heaving in exertion, she was gnawing the bite, froth covered her muzzle. Wolfram rolled off the horse, nearly folding over onto the ground. One of the guards grabbed at the blond’s arms to steady him.
“Sir?”
“Just…” Wolfram wondered why he had climbed off the horse. The distance between the gate and the castle intimidated him. “Just…nothing.” He pushed himself off the guard and tottered forward. Behind his back, the guards exchanged glances. The one who was holding the reins nodded to the other. In a moment, Wolfram felt himself being maneuvered towards the castle.
The blond was climbing the stairs when he heard hooves hitting the cobbles in the yard. His guards had finally arrived. The guard leading him opened the doors for him and let him inside the castle. He said something to the guards in the hall and left Wolfram.
The warmth in the hall made the thoughts in the blond’s head float like woolen clouds. It was quiet in the house, the duke and his sister obviously sleeping at such an ungodly hour. In detached disinterest the blond stared at the two guards who had approached him. One was asking something but Wolfram didn’t understand what he wanted. He waved him off and started heading for the end of the hall. On his way he removed his hat and then started unbuttoning his coat. Once he reached the stairs leading to the second floor, he slid out of the coat and dropped it to the ground. He felt much lighter after getting rid of the heavy burden and started climbing. The guards tattled among themselves then decided to leave him be and returned to their post at the doors in the hall.
Wolfram passed Eldara’s chambers and headed further down the corridor towards his room. A minute later he changed his mind and returned to the duke’s door. He knocked and waited but there was no answer, so he knocked again, much louder this time. Soon the blond heard something crashing and shuffling inside, and the duke’s sleepy and disgruntled voice wafted from behind the locked door.
“Who is it?”
“Me.”
“Me? Who ‘me’?”
“Mrrrmme.”
Wolfram heard Eldara mutter something; it was probably a curse. “Wolfram? Is that you?”
The blond blinked at the door. “How did you know?”
The sound of the key turned in the lock resonated in the empty corridor. The duke appeared in the doorway, trying to tie the belt of his bathrobe with one hand while his other held an oil lamp. He brushed his dishevel hair out of his face and tossed it over his shoulder. Wolfram suddenly seemed fascinated by the flight of the dark violet hair.
“Whoaaa, that’s long,” he muttered.
Eldara gave him a questioning look. “Wolfram, are you drunk?”
Wolfram’s eyes flitted to the duke’s. “Mm… No?”
The corners of the duke’s mouth quirked up in a not amused way. They stared at each other. Suddenly the silence ended as two Wolfram’s guards rushed down the corridor towards Wolfram. They were still wearing coats. Eldara stared at them from the doorway. The duke leaned his shoulder on the doorframe to watch them as they simply stopped at the sight of him and Wolfram. It was obvious that it was the blond had come to him, and they seemed to be awkward, unsure what to do. Eldara averted his eyes to inspect Wolfram in half-light. He was perfectly aware of the blond’s messy appearance: his jacket was unbuttoned, the upper button on his shirt was missing at all.
He dropped his gaze to the ends of his slippers then his eyes touched the ends of Wolfram’s boots and then the trail of wetness and dirt they had left on the carpeted floor. Wolfram stank of liquor, he was obviously having trouble standing straight.
“You are,” the duke stated.
“I am what?”
“Drunk.”
“Ah. Just a little,” Wolfram admitted sheepishly.
Eldara gave him a look. “Alright,” he sighed, backing away from the doorway, “come on in.” It was obvious that something had happened as Athara’s parties usually lasted longer, sometimes all night, and he didn’t expect Wolfram’s return until morning.
Wolfram nearly whooshed into the room. He bounced past the table and into the adjacent room. Eldara stared at his back then turned to the guards. He shrugged and closed the door.
When the duke returned to his bedroom, he found the blond seated on the chaise longue. Eldara lowered the oil lamp onto a small reading table in front of the chaise longue then pulled the chair away from the night table and took a seat in front of Wolfram.
“What happened?” he asked at once because the sooner they dealt with this, the sooner he would be able to go back to sleep.
The blond shuddered and covered his face with his hands. Eldara’s eyebrows rose. Wolfram seemed to be more discomposed that he realized by whatever happened at the brothel.
Wolfram suddenly slid off the chaise longue and headed for the cabinet where behind the glass door he could see a carafe. “It was…awful.”
Silently, Eldara watched him open the door and pull out the carafe and two glasses. It seemed the blond readily believed he was going to join his drinking spree. He wondered if Wolfram would manage to bring the full carafe and the glasses to the reading table without breaking them.
“What exactly?” Eldara wondered as he stood up and walked closer to the blond in case he needed to steady him.
Wolfram lowered the carafe and the glasses onto the table and dropped back into the chaise longue. Without saying anything, he uncorked the carafe. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk. Instead, he simply sought company to drown his distress.
Eldara’s eyes followed the blond’s hand while he was pouring drinks from the carafe into their glasses. Once they were full, he pushed one of them over for Eldara. The duke watched Wolfram take a sip and frown. He lowered the glass.
“Water?”
Eldara nodded. Wolfram stood up, and the duke followed him. He pressed his palm to the glass door of the cabinet when Wolfram was about to open it. “I think water is exactly what you need now, Wolfram.”
The blond turned his head to glare at him. He struggled when the duke took him by his arm and started to force him back to the chaise longue. Eldara paid no heed to his wobbly attempts to free himself and seated him there.
“Tell me what happened.”
The room was spinning now. Wolfram moaned softly and closed his eyes. He felt like he was under water. Eldara looked around for anything he could use as a bucket. His gaze was drawn to the bouquet of dry flowers on the nightstand and he got up to retrieve the vase. When he returned, Wolfram was mumbling something while rubbing at his eyes.
“…s disgusting.”
“Mm?”
Wolfram shuddered. “She tried to take my clothes off.”
Eldara thought that maybe he should have warned Athara of Wolfram’s preferences after all. The fact that Wolfram had had a male fiancé was glaringly obvious, though. He hadn’t expected, however, that Wolfram would have such negative reactions towards women.
Eldara shrugged. “Well, it’s not a big deal.” He chuckled as he tried to calm the blond down. “You’re safe and sound now.”
Wolfram’s mood didn’t improve a bit. He still looked disgusted and was still out of it. “Athara went on and on and on talking….” He groaned. “Your brother’s an idiot.”
“Uh. I don’t think he realized that y-” Eldara started when Wolfram grabbed his hands.
“Gwendal’s everything for me.”
Confused, Eldara stared him. Wolfram was gripping his hands so hard it nearly hurt. The blond looked as if he would start crying at any given moment. The confusion started to clear in the duke’s head. He smiled grimly.
“I miss him so much! Athara… I don’t understand how he could say all that! You’ve…you’ve raised both of them! And Gwendal’s like a father to me! Why’s he saying all that? So much hatred… Conrart… I…” Wolfram let go of Eldara’s hands to cover his face. “Conrart… I wish I could go home. I miss Gwendal. I hate Yuuri! Damn bastard! Both of them!”
Wolfram was babbling almost incoherently now. Eldara wasn’t certain what he should do. Obviously, Wolfram wasn’t very interested in his and Athara’s relationship – it was more a subject of exploration and reflection of Wolfram and his own brothers’. It seemed there was discord in Wolfram and Conrart Weller’s relationship, which kept surfacing despite the blond’s attempts to repress it. Now Eldara was curious since Wolfram never talked about Lord Weller, actually, never even mentioned him. He was as much a taboo as Yuuri Shibuya.
“Wolfram, calm down. I’m certain it will be alright.”
Eldara’s calm and soothing voice had an inverse effect on Wolfram. It caused a wave of self-pity and he suddenly felt that he couldn’t control it anymore. Tears sprung to his eyes. He was startled and annoyed and afraid of his emotional turmoil all at the same time.
Disturbed, the duke stared at the blond’s hand-covered face. He could see tears starting to trickle past Wolfram’s fingers and then the dam burst through. Wolfram started sobbing. Eldara moved closer. Uncertain, he patted the blond on his arm.
“Wolfram, calm down. It’s alright. You just need to sleep it off. Everything will seem better in the morning.”
Wolfram couldn’t even find strength in himself to protest. He rolled to his side so that his face was pressed against the backrest of the chaise longue and continued to sob. Lost, Eldara stared at his shaking back then started searching his bathrobe pockets but found nothing. He stood up and went to his bedside cabinet to retrieve a handkerchief from the top drawer. Right now, all he could do for Wolfram was to allow for him to cry himself into drunken sleep. Even if it was under the influence of alcohol, it was still a disturbing sight.
Eldara brought the handkerchief to Wolfram and lowered it near his face. “Here, take it.”
Wolfram turned his tear-suffused face to see what he was being offered. He reached out an unsteady hand to take the piece of cloth then pressed it to his nose. Eldara reclined his head to stare at the ceiling while the blond blew his nose. The situation was somehow…as much amusing as it was troublesome.
It was quiet in the room now, Wolfram’s tears and sobs have finally subsided to calm breathing. He lay so motionless that Eldara thought that he must have fallen asleep. Carefully, he stood up. He thought he should take Wolfram’s boots and upper clothes off but he dreaded yet another cascade of tears in case he woke up. He fetched a cover from the wardrobe and spread it over the blond’s body.
“I dreamt I was having sex with von Sedera,” Wolfram muttered sleepily when Eldara was tucking the cover around his shoulders. The blond rolled over onto his back.
“Uh.” Eldara was taken aback by the unexpected revelation. “Really?” He chuckled, amused. “And how was it?”
Wolfram rubbed at his wet eyes. “I think it’s you I should ask. Mine was only a dream.”
Eldara leaned over the bundled figure to take a closer look at his face. “Wolfram, are you really drunk?”
“Mm? I think so. Why?”
Eldara laughed softly. “Never mind.”
“So how was it?”
The duke gave Wolfram a searching look. “Wolfram?” he asked, unsure when the blond pushed himself up with his elbows. He hesitated, and Wolfram was the one to close the distance between their faces. Clumsily, he pressed his lips to Eldara’s. The duke responded to Wolfram’s tentative nibbles on his mouth by capturing the blond’s lips. They kissed until Wolfram’s elbows gave in. Before slumping back into the chaise longue, he threw his arms around Eldara’s shoulders to drag him down with him. The duke huffed, somehow managing to avoid butting his forehead against the younger male’s. And then Wolfram was kissing him again.
Wolfram was most enthusiastic but he wasn’t a good kisser, and Eldara took over the initiative. Their tongues meshed, Wolfram’s fingers sliding into the duke’s hair, gripping it tightly at his scalp. Blindly, Eldara groped for the cover to push it away from between them. He succeeded only partly, his own body on top of it being the reason. He slid his hand under Wolfram’s shirt, caressing his side and then his stomach, finally, his chest. The blond squirmed under his hand, a needy sound leaving his mouth. The kiss became more aggressive.
The feeling of Eldara’s hands on his skin, sent waves of lust over Wolfram. His breathing hitched, his back arching slightly into the hands caressing his chest and sides. He felt hot and breathless, and all he wanted to do was to press all of himself into the body above him to feel more of it. The other man’s tongue in his mouth made him shiver in lust.
Wolfram was rubbing against him, the blond’s right hand still gripping at his hair. His left hand, though, was stroking his chest. Eldara could feel short but sharp fingernails raking at his skin in feverish need. It soon began groping around his midsection, and he felt it tugging at the belt of his bathrobe.
There was no consideration in Wolfram’s actions, he acted on pure instinct. He rocked his hips against the older male’s, making pleasure course through his body. His impatience skyrocketed when he couldn’t untie the belt even though Eldara had raised his hips slightly off him. He had to let go of the man’s hair to work on the belt with both hands.
It took Wolfram some time to even realize that his hands were gently being pushed away every time he would take hold of the belt. Seizing fistful of Eldara’s hair again, he opened his eyes to see what was amiss. The duke winced at the demanding grip. The blond tried to force his head down for a kiss, and Eldara tried to pry his fingers out of his hair. Confusion appeared on Wolfram’s face but he didn’t let go. Finally, the duke consented to lowering his head and kissing him. Now Wolfram’s fingers left his hair and slid down his shoulders and over his shoulder blade. Eldara gathered his hair in his left hand and lifted it out of the blond’s reach while breaking the kiss and bending backwards. Panting lightly, he took Wolfram’s wrists in his hands and gently pried his fingers away from the lapels of his bathrobe. Not letting go, he lowered the blond’s arms down onto the cover.
“I think you might regret this tomorrow,” Eldara rasped out softly. He applied more pressure when Wolfram tried to free his wrists. “Wolfram, listen to me,” he repeated trying to sound more stern. “You aren’t thinking clearly. If you want to continue this when you’re sober, I won’t say ‘no’, but now it’s…it’s not a good idea.”
Wolfram stared up at him, his face flushed, pupils dilated, his chest heaving. Eldara wondered if Wolfram would remember any of this in the morning at all.
“L-let go.”
Hesitant, the duke released the blond’s wrists and slid off the chaise longue. Wolfram didn’t pursue him but his hands slipped under the cover. There was no mistaking their occupation.
Eldara turned away to avoid the demonstrative temptation. He brushed over his long hair in jerky movements, trying to get the mass in order. He wondered what he should do. Sleeping in the same room with Wolfram was out of the question. The thought of returning him to his own room in this state made him cringe – the gossip would spread like fire.
The duke grabbed a pillow and the covers from his bed and dragged everything out into the next room where he dropped them onto the sofa next to the window. He stood silently for a few seconds, trying to get his bearings back then returned to close the doors separating the two rooms. Soft grunts wafting from his bedroom made his hands falter on the doorknobs. He couldn’t believe that he had Wolfram masturbating in the other room. It was probably about the same time when he closed the doors that the blond climaxed.
If he wanted to get at least a wink of sleep, he would have to follow Wolfram’s example. He wasn’t very coherent either, his head was playing only a supplementary role now. The only thing in the center of his perception was the ache between his legs. A way out from this situation would have to be found tomorrow.
---
Eldara was awakened by a servant knocking on the door, asking whether he would be down for breakfast. After sending the servant away, the duke threw on his bathrobe and went to his bedroom to see how Wolfram felt. The blond’s face was ashen and there were two large vomit stains on the carpet, next to the chaise longue. The handkerchief he had given Wolfram lay about on the floor. Eldara could bet he knew what kind of stains were on it.
The occupant of his bedroom seemed to be asleep and Eldara decided to leave him be for now. He wanted to leave the room, but then the blond shifted, turned to his side moaning and retched. With a frown on his face, Eldara turned away. He crossed both rooms and opened the door to the corridor. Just as expected, there were three Wolfram’s guards, including Fajdal. A few steps away were his own captain and a guard. The duke gave Wolfram’s guards a mirthless smile.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Your Grace.”
Eldara motioned for his captain. “Could you ask my doctor to come, Captain?”
“Right away, Your Grace.”
Eldara nodded. “And it would be nice if somebody cleaned the stains off my carpet. Thank you, that would be all.” He averted his eyes to Wolfram’s guards, who seemed to be very concerned. “No, it’s not von Bielefeld’s blood. However, keeping in mind how much that carpet had cost me, I’d almost prefer it.”
“Can we see him, Your Grace?” Fajdal asked, already moving forward.
The duke walked past the doorway, letting him pass. “By all means, Captain. But it’s best you don’t move him around; he doesn’t feel well.” Wolfram was probably mostly naked under the cover as well, but that wasn’t the information Eldara wanted to share with others.
Fajdal was taken aback by the sight in the duke’s bedroom.
“It’s probably alcohol poisoning,” Eldara said, what he presumed, was pretty obvious.
“He galloped all the way back from the town to the castle, Your Grace,” Fajdal told him. “Just took one of the horses and sped right back without waiting for his escort.”
The duke gave Wolfram one more look. Maybe this was much more serious than it seemed. Wolfram was still supposed to avoid straining activities. In any case, there was nothing he could do for him now. He motioned at the carafe on the reading table. “It’s water in case he wants something to drink. My doctor should come within half an hour. Until he comes, I’ll leave His Highness in your care.” He went to his wardrobe to get his clothes. “If you need me, I’ll be having breakfast downstairs.”
Fajdal bowed his head. “Yes, thank You, Your Grace.”
TBC
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Bloom