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Bloom	By : chayron Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 9167 -:- 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
- 48
- 49
- 50
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 – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.
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 Anonymously Awesome
Part 49
After having made Eldara promise to take part in the afternoon tea party, Wolfram went back to his room. He intended to read one of Gunter’s books. Currently, he wasn’t in the mood for kinky stories. Instead he was thinking something along the lines of military history.
He hadn’t noticed the aquarium at first but stopped on his way into the room to stare at the glass enclosure filled with colorful fish. It had obviously been put on the nightstand while they had been having breakfast.
Surprised, Wolfram stumbled over to the bed and flopped onto it. He frowned at the dull pain in his thigh then raised his eyes to stare at the aquarium and the peacefully swimming fish inside it. There was a little red house and a sunken boat on the sandy bottom of the tank. A few locks and tufts of different water plants were floating upwards from tiny pots. The fish were diving and swimming in circles around them.
Yuuri must have ordered the aquarium and the fish so that he didn’t feel bored or lonely. Indeed, one could spend hours upon hours watching the colorful fish leading their tranquil lives. It must have taken some time to fulfil the order since he was already able to get around well on the crutches and didn’t spend as much time in his bedroom.
Wolfram realized that he was smiling. The grin quickly disappeared from his face. It did feel pleasant, the attention, the thoughtfulness. Was it all really Yuuri though? Or had the king been given advice?
Turning so he would be able to see the swimming fish, the blond lay down on his side. Did it matter?
_ _ _
It was time for tea, but Wolfram was nowhere to be seen. He had also skipped lunch and the maid, who had been sent to call him downstairs, had returned to inform the household that the blond was asleep. Finally, Eldara decided to go upstairs and check what was going on. He knocked and heard a muffled rumble. Interpreting it as a permission to enter, he opened the door. Wolfram was on the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Overslept again?”
“Mnhmnhm?”
“Lunch is over. Everyone’s moved to the terrace.”
Eldara watched the blond carefully leaving the bed. There was something peculiar about him and his timed sleeping spells. It was probably a half-conscious way to deal with the tension. He was obviously reluctant to meet the king.
“Where did this come from?” the duke asked, pointing at the aquarium.
“The King.”
“Right.” Eldara approached the aquarium to take a look at the fish. “Do you like fish?”
“Not particularly,” Wolfram said, taking his crutches and leaning on them. “These are nice to look at, though.”
Eldara nodded, agreeing. It was an ingenious gift, but obviously Wolfram found it too pushy an effort. The duke, however, could understand the king’s desperation. Shibuya of Shin Makoku had finally opened his eyes and realized that having overlooked von Bielefeld was the worst mistake he had ever made.
Wolfram moved towards the door, and Eldara followed him. They went down the stairs and headed for the dining room. The afternoon was sunny and, for the first time this spring, hot. Those who weren’t bound by the dress code regulations were walking around with short-sleeved shirts and blouses. All the windows had been opened wide and a light breeze could be felt in the halls.
The pair crossed the dining room and went to the terrace, which faced the Royal Garden. The household had had lunch and, under Cecilie’s request, from the dining room had moved to the terrace. They were sitting at a round table, waiting for Wolfram to appear. Conrart, though, had excused himself and had gone to the yard to join Yozak and Karela.
At the sight of von Ashira on the terrace Yuuri’s face clouded over. He didn’t find his presence surprising, though. They greeted each other politely and took their seats. After some small talk about the weather, the tea and desserts were served.
The party relaxed in their seats, holding their cups and sipping contentedly as their stomachs digested lunch. The day was so fine that even the conversations petered out, with everyone just happy to quietly bask in the sun and admire the newly-sprouted greenery.
Wolfram took his jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair letting the warm breeze ruffle his cravat and wide sleeves. He felt much cooler in just his shirt. He hadn’t had lunch and now was sorting through various muffins, cookies, and bagels on the beautifully decorated plates.
Gwendal watched his brother stuffing his mouth, chasing down the sweet pastries with tea. Wolfram was barely past twenty and was already flanked by his two ex-fiancés. That was a disturbing achievement. However, it was a given considering his looks. In the past, his innocent, boyish cuteness had attracted all kinds of pedophilic creeps. Now his striking facial features had become masculine, commanding attention by a completely different type of admirer. Wolfram was certainly aware of his beauty, but Gwendal doubted that his brother noticed the full extent of its impact. The soldiers in the yard spent most of their time ogling the blond instead of training properly.
Von Voltaire hummed thoughtfully under his breath. And yet, Wolfram’s appearance had nothing to with his first accidental engagement. It, however, probably had something to do with its long-term duration. He could only guess that it was one of the reasons why the king had felt reluctant to break off the engagement. Von Ashira, on the other hand, would have bedded Wolfram had he looked no better than a monkey. Just to spite him.
Gwendal cast a displeased look towards the duke. Von Ashira noticed his stare and seemed to be surprised by the anger in it. He blinked slowly as if asking what it was about. Von Voltaire ignored him and reached out for his empty cup.
“More tea?” Cecilie suggested while already lifting the teapot and passing it over the table.
Gwendal nodded, taking it. “Yes, thank you.”
“A messenger,” Gunter said, pointing somewhere above the roofs.
Everyone’s eyes followed the gesture and noted a humanoid figure in the sky.
“A kohi,” Yuuri said. He stood up and waved to catch the skeleton’s attention.
In a few moments the skeletal messenger landed on the terrace. It was carrying a small scroll. The skeleton had a purple band tied around its left wrist and a unique brass ring with a coat of arms on one of the bony fingers, indicating it as a von Christ’s property. Gunter pushed his chair away from the table and walked over to take the parchment. He unfolded it.
“Ah,” he said after having glanced at the message. “The von Wardens have just entered the city premises. They should be here in a few hours.” He looked at Wolfram and von Ashira. “As agreed, we will inform them of the changes in the plans and, if everything goes well, send them back tomorrow.”
Wolfram nodded. It was going to be Eldara who was going to spend most time with the guests as Wolfram could barely walk. In any case it was just going to be an outing and dinner with a couple of musicians and singers then a goodbye tomorrow.
Gunter dismissed the messenger and it flapped its bony wings again, rose into the air then dove downwards and soared through the garden, heading for the training yard where it was going to wait for further orders.
“More tea?” Cecilie offered when von Christ returned to his seat.
Eldara watched the brothers and von Christ pass their cups to her. Cecilie started filling them. The duke found it curious that during meals they hardly ever used the help of their servants. They would set the table then leave during the meal. In general, they were rarely called for help.
“No, thank you,” Yuuri said when Cecilie wanted to fill his cup. “I still have some left.”
“Isn’t it tasty?” Cecilie asked somewhat disappointed.
“It really is,” Wolfram assured her immediately. He was on the third cup already; the unusual sweetish taste went very well with the pastries.
Cecilie gave her son a pleased smile. “I was told it was specially picked and dried by thirteen virgin girls in Teriapolis.”
The men looked at their cups. Yuuri had more than half left. He found the taste peculiar. It was bittersweet with a tinge of something that the king deemed unsuitable for tea. Upon swallowing, it seemed to acquire a clammy texture.
“Why thirteen?” von Ashira asked, interested.
Cecilie thought for a few seconds. “I never asked,” she said. “Maybe it affects the taste?”
“Why virgins?” Gunter wondered, taking a large sip of his tea; suddenly, it tasted much better.
Von Ashira laughed. “Finally, someone’s asking the real question here!”
With a snort, Gwendal rolled his eyes. He turned to the duke. “You would certainly be more interested in this tea if it had been picked by thirteen virgin boys, wouldn’t you?”
Eldara grinned at him flirtatiously. “I think my interest would stay about the same,” he said. “However, if it had been you who had picked it, I would savor every drop.”
Frowning, Yuuri looked around uncertainly. Wolfram was trying to fish out a tea leaf from his cup with a teaspoon. Cecilie was inspecting her impeccable manicure. Gunter was pouring himself more tea. He lowered the teapot with a soft clang back onto the table.
“But really,” he said, “why did they have to be virgins?”
With a shrug, Cecilie threw her hands apart.
Yuuri started at the sound of something thumping onto the floor. He turned to see Wolfram lying on the tiles, next to his chair.
“Wolfram!” Yuuri called. Worried, he jumped off his chair and rushed to the blond’s side. “Wolfram, what’s wrong?” he called again, shaking the blond, trying to elicit some kind of response.
“Mmm?” Wolfram hummed, his emerald eyes focusing on the king’s face. He smiled brightly. “I love you.”
Yuuri was taken aback. Amidst the confusion he felt a beacon of joyous light ignite itself inside him. He smiled back at Wolfram. “Really?”
The blond blinked up at him from the tiled floor. “I hate you!” he suddenly spat fervently, his hand slapping Yuuri across his stunned face.
The slap wasn’t strong and didn’t hurt much, it only increased the bewilderment the king felt. Rubbing at his nose, he leaned away from Wolfram. With a sigh, the blond rolled away from the direct sun and under the table and curled up there. Baffled, Yuuri stared at his back.
“Is he sleeping?” he asked uncertainly.
No one answered. He stood up slowly. There was something very wrong. Cecilie had a thoughtful look on her face. She stood up and bent over the table to retrieve the teapot. She lifted the lid and looked inside.
“I think it might have been just a little too much,” she said.
“You think?” Gwendal wondered while mixing his tea. He was absently staring at the soles of his brother’s boots protruding from under the table. The soft clang of the teaspoon continuously hitting the porcelain walls of the cup echoed loudly in the confused silence. Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes but he could clearly see von Ashira’s hand stroking the inside of von Voltaire’s left thigh.
“What the…?”
Yuuri’s further observations and possible comments were interrupted by something lunging at his back. He yelled in surprise as he was flattened to the floor, face-first.
“Your Majesty, have I told You that You look magnificent today?”
“No, Gunter, you haven’t,” Yuuri grunted out, trying to get von Christ off his back. “And, in truth, I’d rather not hear that from you.” His eyes went wide when he felt von Christ’s hands groping at his midsection underneath his jacket. Gunter was obviously trying to reach his belt buckle. Yuuri changed the tactics and, instead of trying to throw Gunter off, flattened himself to the floor. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.
“I’m trying to prove my love to You, my Majesty!”
Yuuri froze in shock. “What love? Why? I didn’t ask you to!”
“You needn’t ever ask me, my Majesty! I’m always ready to fulfill every wish of Yours!”
Von Christ bodily lifted the lighter man of the tiles and undid the buckle in one expert twist of his fingers.
“What the hell is going on?!” Yuuri yelled, horrified.
“I’m all Yours, my Majesty!” Gunter swore his loyalty to Yuuri’s back while trying to pull his trousers down at any cost.
“Gunter, stop that! Help! Do something!” The king let out a desperate shout. He raised his head towards the indifferent people sitting at the table. “Anyone? Please!”
Cecilie clasped her hands. “Oh, dear. This is not what I had in mind. What do we do?”
“How about you finally help me?!”
“Yes, right, right,” Cecilie muttered, rushing over to Yuuri. She grabbed von Christ’s shoulder, one at first then both of them and tried to peel him off the prone king. Gunter’s iron grip on the younger man’s trousers didn’t lessen one bit. Cecilie tugged harder, and Yuuri’s backside suddenly felt somewhat drafty.
Gunter sputtered in awe at the twin globes. Blinded by the pale moons, he shoved at Cecilie none-too-gently. “Go away, woman! I’m not a violent man, but no one will stand in the way of true love!”
“Are you completely mad?” Yuuri hissed, trying to get to his feet. He almost succeeded then Gunter was on his back again. “Shit!” the king cursed. “Get off me or I’ll give the order to have your hands chopped off!”
“My King! My love!”
Cecilie seized von Christ’s left arm and pulled him away with one strong tug. Gunter stumbled and flopped onto the floor. He immediately jumped back to his feet, anger clear on his face. He grabbed at his side where usually his sword hung. Fortunately, it was missing as he had left his at the entrance of the dining room, like the rest of them. A disappointed growl left his mouth, but he lunged at Cecilie barehanded.
A water dragon slammed in Gunter’s side, tossing him off the terrace and into the air, where he suddenly hung suspended in a bubble of water. The king felt von Christ attempting to summon the air element and cut off the developing link, leaving von Christ helpless. Just in case, he disabled all elemental contracts in the area.
Cecilie rushed to the parapet. Gunter was choking in the bubble of water, his arms and legs flailing wildly about. Before Cecilie could get worried, the bubble with von Christ soared down through the air and landed in the flower bed next to the entrance to the castle. It burst with a loud pop, dousing all the nearby plants. Gunter flopped onto the grass coughing and vomiting water. Cecilie exhaled in relief seeing that there was no danger to his life.
“What was in the tea, Woman?”
Cecilie turned around. “Your Majesty.” With a smile, she tried to soften the ruthless look in the king’s dark eyes but her smile was wasted on him. “Love powder, Your Majesty. True Love powder that I g-” The king’s raised hand stopped the flow of her words.
“If you ever do that again,” the king said, his hand suddenly pointing at the terrace floor below them, “you will end up much worse than he did.”
Cecilie blinked slowly then felt compelled to curtsy. “I apologize Your Majesty. It will not happen again,” she promised.
“Apology accepted.”
Cecilie smiled brightly at him. There was something flirtatious in her gaze, and the king realized that his trousers and underwear were still down, pooling on the floor around his ankles. Fortunately, his long, white shirt was covering his manhood. The king saw something in the woman’s eyes that implied that she wouldn’t mind getting the shirt out of the way. He chuckled. Pulling his trousers up and buttoning them, he cast a look at the rest of the table. Von Ashira was on von Voltaire’s lap, straddling him and the chair. The king wasn’t able to see well but it was obvious that the two were engaged in some lewd play with their mouths and tongues. The lapels of their upper clothes flapped around while their hands and fingers explored each other vigorously. Von Bielefeld slept on under the table, completely unaware of what was going on above him.
The king walked over to von Bielefeld’s unmoving body, squatted down and pulled him out from under the table. He hefted the blond into his arms, stood up and with one last look at von Ashira and von Voltaire, left the terrace.
Wolfram was heavy. The king huffed while climbing up the stairs. He wasn’t used to weight like this; his half-Human and half-Demon body was quite useless. He adjusted his grip on Wolfram and the blond’s eyelids fluttered open. The emerald eyes, full of honest confusion, stared up the chandelier on the ceiling then concentrated on the king’s face.
“Yuuri?”
“No.”
“Mmn?”
The blond blinked, seemed to think for a moment then fell asleep again.
Shinou chuckled. He finished climbing the stairs and headed for Wolfram’s room. It took him a few moments to lower the handle then he pushed the door open with his foot. He headed for the bed, lowered the blond’s upper body onto the covers while still holding on to his legs. Wolfram’s boots didn’t come off easily but he finally managed to remove them and arranged them neatly next to the bed.
The blond looked serene on the blue bedcover. His relaxed face, slow breathing and sprawled limbs were the incarnation of innocence. The purity of this moment was nothing but illusion. The king was thinking about von Bielefeld and von Ashira on this same bed enjoying the pleasures of sex. He reached out for the blond’s cravat and undid it. The small buttons on the shirt posed no trouble either. The king touched Wolfram’s throat then slid his hand downward over the bare chest. His fingers reached the belt buckle and he thought about undoing it but stopped there. Instead, he brushed over the blond’s lips, wondering how kissing them would taste. Regretfully, it wasn’t the time yet.
Shinou leaned away from the bed, straightening up. He rounded the bed, sat down on the other side, took his boots off and climbed into it. With an exasperated sigh, he settled down next to Wolfram’s side. Ever since the fateful engagement slap on the blond’s cheek, he had always considered Wolfram his and found Shibuya’s thoughts concerning the blond infuriatingly pathetic and ridiculous. It had taken a lot of time but not much effort to shift Shibuya’s feelings. Shibuya was a hopeless romantic. It was probably due to his virginal inexperience. Shibuya had urges just like every man, but he mostly considered and accepted them as something ethereal, not something that was supposed to be fulfilled. Shibuya was also very traditional and innocent in his views of courting.
The king turned his head sideways. The blond’s profile looked regal from this angle. Shinou had often thought that the blond’s looks reminded him of his own forgotten features from long ago. He had been just as handsome, if not more so. But that had been a long, long time ago. Was this narcissism? Maybe. And maybe that’s why Wolfram’s clean-cut features made Shinou want to pinch the blond’s pointy nose. It was frustrating. Physically, Wolfram was right here, but in all other senses he could have as well been on another planet.
Shibuya had always had a soft spot for Wolfram, so it hadn’t been difficult to make him think that there was more to it. There wasn’t a clear boundary where Shibuya’s consciousness ended and his own began. Shibuya was the dominant one in their world but their emotions and desires often intersected, mixing until it was difficult to tell which one they had originated from. He was mostly dormant, only catching a glimpse of ever passing life here and there. The more he watched, the more he wanted to interfere, and he knew he had no right to. Just sometimes, very rarely, he manipulated Shibuya to do what was right, to do what he wanted. Actually, to do what they perhaps both wanted, but Shibuya had no balls to.
_ _ _
Yuuri woke up to movement next to him. Still half-asleep, he raised his head and, upon seeing nothing but darkness, tried to understand where he was. There was a crash and a curse then a crash again. Suddenly, there were several flashes of light and the darkness was dissipated by floating balls of flame. When Yuuri’s eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that he was in Wolfram’s room. The blond was huddled on the floor, still cursing. He was clutching at his toes that he had obviously hit on the leg of the table.
Confused, the king stared at the blond’s back. He remembered the series of awkward incidents on the terrace, but neither had memories of entering Wolfram’s bedroom nor of climbing into the bed.
“Is everything alright?” Yuuri asked.
Wolfram’s head snapped around to face him. “No!” he hissed. “It hurts! I feel sick! I want to go to the bathroom! Where are my crutches? And why are you in my bed? Was it you who undid my shirt?”
Yuuri blinked at Wolfram’s angry face then his eyes slid towards the blond’s chest. The shirt was more or less in place now, but, indeed, he had a vague recollection of touching Wolfram. “Yes, I think it was me.”
“Fuck you, asshole! Help me get to the bathroom!”
Yuuri stumbled out of the bed at once. “Yes, of course.” He pulled his boots on and approached Wolfram, who was balancing on one leg while trying to put as less stress as possible on the injured one. Awkwardly, Yuuri wrapped his arm under the blond’s shoulders and steadied him. Wolfram’s warmth and pleasantly familiar scent enveloped his senses. Through the poorly buttoned shirt, Yuuri caught a generous glimpse of Wolfram’s bare chest and suddenly felt grateful for this moment of opportune intimacy. His own thrill, however, made him feel embarrassed. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I searched for the crutches?” he muttered.
“I can’t wait!”
“Right.”
They left the room and headed for the nearest bathroom. It was late evening so candles and oil lamps had been lit here and there. Wolfram recalled his fire element. He couldn’t understand where the day had gone and why he felt so sick. He soon felt that his feet were freezing and only then noticed that he had left his room in socks. Irritated, he leaned even more of his weight on Yuuri. He was half-limping and half-hopping and his thigh still hurt. He cursed under his breath.
“I’m sorry about the shirt. I don’t really know how it…”
“Shut up.”
Yuuri closed his mouth. He didn’t really care about the silly shirt. He was more worried about not knowing what exactly had happened and not remembering more of what Shinou had done while in control of his body. He had known that Shinou was interested in Wolfram but there was an unwritten rule between him and Shinou that they had never broken until now: never do anything drastic while acting as the other. There was no characterization of what “drastic” entailed, but Yuuri was worried that maybe that was exactly what Shinou had done while sharing Wolfram’s bed.
The bathroom was occupied. Wolfram knocked on the door impatiently.
“Taken!”
It was Gwendal’s voice, and Yuuri looked at the door hopefully.
Wolfram huffed irritably. “Hurry up!”
A series on strained grunts were heard from the inside of the bathroom then Gwendal’s voice wafted through the door again, “Go to the first floor!”
“I can’t wait!”
“I don’t think standing here will do any good,” Yuuri said, tugging Wolfram away from it. The blond’s pale face was worrying him. It seemed that he was about to throw up. It had to be that accursed True Love powder.
They managed to reach the other bathroom on the first floor without any incident only to discover that it was also taken.
“Who’s in there?” Wolfram demanded while knocking violently on the door. “Let me in!”
“Wolfram, is that you?”
“Eldara? Let me in!”
“Err… It’s sort of an emergency in here.”
“It’s an emergency here too!” Wolfram shrieked indignantly. “Open the door!” He slammed his fist against the wood while trying to hold everything in and horrified by a very high probability of himself starting to squirt from both ends.
Having had food poisoning a few times himself, Yuuri knew what Wolfram was going through. The same thing was clearly happening to Gwendal and von Ashira. True Love powder appeared to have strong side effects. Hoping against hope, Yuuri half-carried and half-dragged the blond to the servants’ quarters. The bathroom there was also locked.
“Go away!” Gunter moaned when Yuuri banged on the door. “Leave me be! Leave me here to my misery! Oh woe is me!”
His complaints and pleas were suddenly accentuated by the sounds of explosive diarrhea that made Yuuri retreat from the door in revulsion. Wolfram became even paler if that was possible.
“...ing ta hurl…” he rasped out suddenly.
And he did. Yuuri managed to get him only as far as the kitchen back door. He kept hold on Wolfram to help him balance while the contents of his stomach splattered all over the wooden doorstep. Yuuri frowned at the stench. He held the blond until he was done heaving and spitting.
“Feel better?”
“No,” Wolfram moaned. “The bathroom! There is an outhouse next to the soldiers’ barracks!”
“Right.” Yuuri opened the door and, stepping over the puddle carefully, guided the blond outside. “Why don’t you just squat down behind that bush?” he suggested as the outhouse was on the other end of the yard. It was, very likely, dirty and Wolfram was only in his socks.
“The outhouse!”
“Alright.”
The outhouse was thankfully unoccupied and Wolfram locked himself inside. Yuuri retreated to a safer distance. In a few moments, the blond demanded the king bring a basketful of paper and when he had, told him to go away.
TBC
- 48
- 49
- 50
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