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Bloom	By : chayron Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 9093 -:- 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
- 55
- 56
- 57
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)
Part 56
Yozak was gathering his clothes from the floor. Karela watched him walking about the room. It was Conrart’s unused room in the castle. Karela wondered if Yozak knew that he knew. He probably did. It wasn’t difficult to guess why Yozak had brought him to Conrart’s bed.
“You’re an idiot.”
Surprised, Yozak turned around; Karela didn’t normally fling similar opinions around.
“And a fine morning to you too.”
“I hope Conrart agrees to go with me to Kardera.”
Yozak snorted. “Fuck you.” He reached out for his socks then his hand faltered, and his head snapped up to face Karela again. “What the fuck is wrong with you all?! Why is he being so victimized, and I have suddenly turned into a bad guy?” He showed his arm, which was still in a sling. “I’m the victim here! He knew the rules beforehand! And now he suddenly plays the wronged lover! As if that’s not enough, everyone suddenly starts tiptoeing around him! Even you! Why? Why is it that no one is asking how I feel?”
“Because everyone knows how you feel!” Karela snorted, rolling his eyes. “These past few days you have done nothing but whine about how wronged you feel. But you know what? No one gives a damn about how you feel because it’s obvious to everyone that you’ve brought this upon yourself on your own!”
Yozak was angrily buttoning his jacket. His jaw was clenched so as not to spill more of what he felt. Besides his anger towards Conrart, he, in fact, felt helpless. He knew that Karela was right. The problem was his inability to set things right. When it concerned Conrart, he just wasn’t able to do anything right.
“I know you’ve been after him since you laid your eyes on him.”
Karela let out a bitter laugh. “Here we go again.” He snorted. “You can think about what a fucking idiot you are while I’ll be fucking him.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Oh, Yozak. You either want him or you don’t. You’ve got only a couple of days to decide on which it is.”
_ _ _
Yuuri appraised himself in the mirror. He had never been very interested in his appearance. Instead, he had always been proud of himself for having saved his parents’ money by not blindly following the latest fashion trends. Or, rather, any fashion at all. His attire used to mostly consist of Shori’s outgrown clothes and, gods bless whoever had come up with it, the universal school uniform.
Nowadays, as a king, he still wore his high school uniform or one of its many variations. The black garment had become his trademark outfit in Shin Makoku and the surrounding territories, thus he continued to wear it. His wardrobe mostly consisted of these black uniforms. However, they had been modified a little to suit his tastes and status. The jackets were longer, embroidered; the buttons silver or gold. He found it amusing but as he was used to them and they were comfortable, he had no reason to go against everyone’s expectations. Recently though, as was always the case when start of the warmer seasons came about, he started questioning the sensibility of always wearing black. Besides, he had noticed that his black attire had no impact on Wolfram.
Yuuri shrugged his black jacket off and took a look at himself while only wearing a shirt. There was hardly any difference since the shirt was also black. Frowning, the king lifted and bent his arm. While feeling his biceps underneath the sleeve, he came to the conclusion that, despite vigorous sword training and riding, he didn’t appear to have grown any additional muscle mass. While Wolfram looked like a grown man, he himself was still stuck in a lanky body of a teenager.
“Shall I wear something different today?” Yuuri wondered.
Conrart, who had been watching him from further away, threw a look at the king’s wardrobe. “Emm…” he drawled while his eyes were scanning the dozens of black clothes in it. “I doubt it would make much difference, Your Majesty…”
“Indeed,” Yuuri grumbled, throwing his black jacket back on. He glared at his reflection in the mirror. “Do you know what color is Wolfram’s favorite?”
“I’m not sure he has one, Your Majesty,” Conrart said carefully. “Perhaps blue. However, I would advise against sending him any more gifts. I’m afraid that they would only make him angry.”
Yuuri shook his head. “No, it’s not about gifts.”
Through the mirror, he stared at Conrart’s reflection. Conrart had sought him out so early in the morning with the desire to talk to him. Yuuri knew what he was going to say since he had already discussed most of the details of his departure with Gwendal.
“I thought two men had it easier.”
Conrart gave the king a confused look. “Your Majesty?”
“Relationships between men. I thought they were supposed to be easier.”
Conrart didn’t want to get involved in a discussion where he would be forced to take sides. If at first he had always done his best to support Yuuri, now he wanted to stay neutral. The king, however, was giving him a questioning look, compelling him to answer.
“Mm… If one is looking for a nightstand, then probably yes. Being in love, however… I think it’s messy no matter who is involved.”
“Is this why Yozak is being so messy?”
The unexpected question made Conrart wince. His face reddened both in embarrassment and anger. “He’s not being messy. He’s being a retarded horseshoe.”
Yuuri couldn’t help chuckling. He motioned at the table. “Let’s take a seat.”
Conrart nodded and quickly walked over to seat himself on the opposite side of the king, who was still standing. “Thank You, Your Majesty.”
Yuuri seated himself as well. “Shall I fine you a silver every time you call me that?”
A restrained smile flitted over Conrart’s face. “I don’t earn so much, Your Majesty, to be entering such an agreement.”
“That’s the whole point of it, Conrad,” Yuuri said, giving him a serious look, which made Conrart’s smile disappear. “You are one of my closest friends, not a mere bodyguard. You and, let’s be honest, Gwendal, are always trying to keep your distance from me. You probably think that you’re doing it for my sake. Nonsense. What I need most are friends. And yet, as I said, for some reason everyone thinks that putting me on a pedestal and staring at me from afar makes me happy. It does not. It makes me lonely.”
Conrart listened to this complain and plea silently. He had often felt guilty for treating Yuuri familiarly. Of course, he had always known that Yuuri longed for a closer relationship yet it felt wrong. He thought he had no right to bask in the king’s exclusive affection or receive special treatment. He had also wanted Yuuri to be free of any influence.
“I’m sorry.”
Apparently that was all Conrart had to say to him concerning his request, and Yuuri sighed regretfully.
“What was it that you wanted to tell me?” he asked.
“Mm… Yes. I’m leaving tomorrow for Wiederhaal but…mm…” Conrart trailed off. This had sounded much better in his head. Once uttered, it was going to embarrass him.
“…But everyone, especially Yozak, is supposed to think that you’re going to Kardera,” Yuuri finished for him.
“Errm… Yes.”
Yuuri gave him a look, and Conrart lowered his eyes to stare at the white as snow tablecloth.
“I’m having a hard time believing that he’ll buy it,” Yuuri said. He shrugged. “But it’s up to you. Personally, I think that there’s quite an unhealthy trait of running away amongst the men of your family.”
Conrart offered the table cloth a wide smile. “Indeed. Quite cowardly, isn’t it?”
Yuuri shrugged again. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. He had no right to judge. It was a coping mechanism and, considering how well it had worked out for Wolfram, not a bad one.
“I want to apologize that I won’t be by your side as I have promised.”
Yuuri waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. We are still in peaceful times and there’s no danger to me at all. Besides, it’s only temporarily. I’d say to treat it as a vacation, but it will obviously be far from that.”
Conrart nodded.
“Let’s go for a spar after breakfast. I’ll be missing those. Gwendal is way too strict. I end up with bruises all over my body.”
“You can always ask Wolfram,” Conrart suggested.
“I have a feeling that he would reject the idea.”
“I doubt it. But you might end up with even more bruises.”
“Mm…maybe not quite yet as he hadn’t fully recovered.”
Conrart chuckled. He doubted it would make any difference.
In fact, Conrart had no idea how Wolfram would react. To be honest, he was relieved that this, for now, was the last spar with the king. Erections was quite a common thing during training and spars as the adrenaline, excitement and bodily contact made men react. Recently however, Shibuya had beaten all records. It was easy to understand the reason behind it, but that didn’t make the atmosphere any less awkward. They didn’t talk about it. Actually, they always pretended that nothing happened, but it was there – the elephant in the room.
_ _ _

The yard was full of men who were getting ready to travel to the port. A two days’ journey awaited them. The duke was already in the carriage, discontent that he was being made to wait.
Finally, everyone was ready, and the party moved out. From his spot near the barracks, Yozak watched the soldiers file through the gate. They were too far away for him to distinguish Conrart’s face, but Yozak thought that he could recognize his figure amongst others – there was a certain slouch to the man’s shoulders that usually indicated that he was under stress.
Yozak watched the party until Conrart and the three other soldiers from the Allied Forces had passed the gate. Cursing under his breath, he turned around and headed for the barracks. He knew that Conrart wasn’t going to Kardera. All of them were taking him for a fool. Yozak didn’t know where Conrart was going but it definitely wasn’t Kardera.
Yozak wasn’t certain how he felt about this misleading show. He was amused, but he was more upset than amused. He was angry too, with both himself and Conrart. It was him who had driven Conrart to this cowardly escape. The man hadn’t even managed to break up with him face to face. Indeed, this was what von Bielefeld had been trying to tell him – this time he had driven Conrart into a corner. He had driven himself into a corner as well. If only they could share a corner and stay in it together.
With a shake of his head Yozak entered the barracks. If Conrart expected him to chase after him, he was wrong. It was all over. And it was for the best.
_ _ _
And this was the end of the stupid affair. With a troubled sigh, Eldara leaned back into his seat and drew the curtains over the carriage window. He should have used the opportunity and enjoyed the view of passing streets, houses and people since later there would be nothing to look at, only trees, trees and some more trees. But he didn’t feel like it at all.
The duke still didn’t quite understand what he had expected to come out from his and von Voltaire’s relationship. It had to have been something huge since even now he was half-expecting von Voltaire to chase after him, to stop the carriage, throw the door open and…possibly propose to him and then fuck his brains out. He wouldn’t even care if all of that happened in a different order.
Well, one could always dream.
Eldara sighed again. If only it were that easy. In the end, both himself and von Voltaire were relieved by his departure. Now, all they had left were bittersweet memories. More bitter than sweet, in fact.
oOoOo_Several Days Later_oOoOo
Yuuri’s mind still wasn’t set, but there was no time to lose. Still, several more seconds passed as he continued to stare at the door leading to the royal baths. Finally, he steeled himself and pushed it open. Just as he had hoped and planned, Wolfram was alone. At some point it was Conrart who used to help him bathe, but now the blond was well enough to do it on his own.
The king closed the door softly and headed towards the bench where Wolfram was sitting. It was warm in the baths, the hot vapor spreading all over the chamber. It was half-light, with only a few oil lamps hanging from the ceiling and on the walls. Wolfram was sitting with his back to the door and Yuuri had wanted to surprise him, but the blond had felt his presence before he approached. He turned around, alert, but at the sight of Yuuri, his shoulders relaxed. He gave the king a curious look and nodded in acknowledgement.
Yuuri was wearing his usual black garments. His fingers clumsily tumbled through the buttonholes while he shed his jacket and shirt. Wolfram didn’t even bother pretending not to stare and Yuuri nearly fell over while taking his trousers off. He hobbled around on one leg then finally got rid of them. He arranged his clothes on a nearby bench. With only a short towel wrapped around his midsection, he went to get one of the large bowls that were propped against the stony wall near the entrance. Then he approached Wolfram, who was washing himself with a sponge. The king put his bowl down and poured in some hot and then cold water until he got the temperature right. He seated himself next to the blond. He soon figured out that he had forgotten a sponge and soap and had to get up again.
“Um. Want me to wash your back?”
Wolfram gave him another curious look. He had finished washing and was certain that Yuuri could see the soapy suds covering him. What he needed now was a good rinse and he would be done.
“Sure.”
It took a few moments for Wolfram’s brain to register his positive answer. Yuuri, however, had accepted it at once and tugged at the sponge in the blond’s hand. Wolfram didn’t let go, and Yuuri gave him a confused look. With a low chuckle, Wolfram pushed it into the younger man’s hands. What he needed was a good rinse, but what he wanted was a good fuck. It was as simple as that.
Yuuri lathered up the sponge and pressed it to Wolfram’s back. He felt awkward while brushing with it over the blond’s neck and shoulders. It was uncomfortably quiet in the baths the only the sounds being those of the wet sponge sliding over Wolfram’s skin. It had seemed so natural when Wolfram used to offer to wash his back for him. Now, Yuuri wondered what kinds of thoughts used to go through the blond’s head back then. They had probably been about the same as his.
“Thanks,” Wolfram said when Yuuri had pressed the sponge back into his hand. Their fingers touched, and he looked up. Yuuri, though, was already reaching for a pitcher and, without a word of warning, doused him with water from his own bowl. Wolfram sputtered and rubbed at his eyes. “Hey!”
From behind, Yuuri pressed his cheek to Wolfram’s. He could feel him tense up but the blond didn’t move away. He turned his head and pressed his lips to Wolfram’s cheek then moved his mouth lower, along the column of his neck. He could feel the rigidity of the other man’s body. Yuuri could hear his breath quicken. Or maybe it was his own. Nibbling on the skin, he reached the dip between the neck and shoulder. He bit down lightly, and Wolfram moaned. The sound made the king’s eyes widen in surprise. Wolfram’s reaction pulled at his groin.
Yuuri moved his mouth away and gave a soothing lick to where the light imprint of his teeth was visible. He inhaled loudly. His breath was coming out in short, excited puffs. He had never thought that he could ever be so overwhelmed by lust. It was even more incredible that he was reacting like this to a man. His whole body was tight like a spring. He pressed his nose to the blond’s shoulder and inhaled again. His sense of smell wasn’t as sharp as that of purebloods’ but he could smell soap and something that was purely Wolfram. The whiff tugged at his groin again, raising the towel even higher.
The king dropped the pitcher into the bowl and took a grasp of Wolfram’s wet shoulders. Leaning over the blond, he glanced down between his legs. Wolfram was just as hard, his towel tented as well.
Not managing to contain himself, Yuuri slid his hand into the blond’s hair and tugged his head sideways and up. Their eyes met and held for a few moments. The dazed look in the other male’s eyes made Yuuri grip his head firmer.
Wolfram didn’t resist when the king’s mouth covered his. It didn’t even occur to him to resist. Several minutes ago he had more or less decided to go with the flow and was now overwhelmed by another bout of Yuuri’s boldness. Yuuri, who used to flinch at his very touch, was about to lay him flat on the bench. It was a strange feeling. Yuuri was a little more competent than he remembered. He was obviously taking his kissing lessons seriously. Wolfram added more strength into the kiss.
Their position was uncomfortable, and Yuuri started pushing the blond down until he was almost lying along the bench, only his legs dangling over the edge. They stared at each other, their faces betraying their lust. Yuuri shoved at the blond’s chest and his back hit the planks. He leaned over him and brushed his towel upwards to get it out of the way. He was aware of Wolfram’s eyes following his every move. Wolfram still had doubts about him being able to have an intercourse with a man. Yuuri hadn’t been so certain either. Wolfram’s erection, however, didn’t do anything to make him feel less turned on. It was the opposite – the proof of the other man’s arousal was pleasing. More than that – it was fueling his own lust.
Yuuri suddenly found himself thinking about von Ashira and Wolfram, about how they had sex, how von Ashira pleasured Wolfram. The image of the two fucking on the blond’s bed had been haunting him way too long. The thoughts both turned him on and made him incredibly jealous. He wrapped his hand around the blond’s cock. The smooth hardness, and the warmth of the skin reminded him of his own. He squeezed more firmly, and Wolfram shifted on the bench while giving him and uncertain and questioning look.

“Sorry,” Yuuri muttered, blushing; he had gotten too carried away.
Yuuri relaxed his grip a little bit and stroked a few times. His own penis was reacting to every stroke and the feeling in his hand. He could feel that his cheeks were burning but he was beyond embarrassment. If anything, the awkward shyness that he felt was making him reckless. It was mixed with lust and he wanted to explore, to feel more, to do more until Wolfram gave himself to him just as he had given himself to von Ashira. He wanted it, he wanted to fuck Wolfram. Now he realized it as clearly as never before.
Wolfram, meanwhile, wasn’t certain whether this was a dream or reality. Recently, he had been deprived of sex, which had made his imagination conjure several sexual fantasies involving himself and Yuuri. His thoughts had kept wandering in that direction whether he had wanted it to or not.
The abstinence made Wolfram’s body respond more sensitively than usual and crave more of the younger male’s touch. The hungry look on Yuuri’s face made him breathless. Even in his wildest dreams he had never imagined Yuuri look at him like that. Yuuri wanted to fuck him, and the need was probably overwhelming. The king, though, obviously wasn’t certain how to accomplish that. Wolfram didn’t feel like helping him out. There was something in the back of his head nagging at him not to encourage Yuuri.
Wolfram was grunting softly with every up and down motion. He was obviously close now, and Yuuri upped the pace. He stared at the blond’s face, curious about his reactions, the sounds he was making. Wolfram wasn’t meeting his gaze, staring at the ceiling at first then, when he started really feeling it, closed his eyes. The blond neither encouraged him nor discouraged him, letting him do with his body what he wanted. Yuuri took that as a good sign, especially since his caresses were obviously receiving a positive feedback.
Wolfram came soundlessly, not managing to relax fully even for a second, always aware of the king’s presence, and, even more of his hand on his cock.
His palm was sticky and Yuuri slid off the bench to wash it off in the bowl. The most of the blond’s sperm had spurted out on his stomach and chest and now was glistening there in indecent puddles. With his hand, Yuuri brushed over the blond’s stomach to wipe it off but his attempt only smeared it all over his sides. Wolfram chuckled at the uncanny mess the king had made. The dark-haired male gave him a sheepish look and bent down again to wash his hands off. Then he leaned over the blond again. He was painfully hard. He wanted Wolfram but was confused about how to go about it.
The door to the baths opened and then closed with a loud thud. At the sight of a silhouette appearing in the baths, Yuuri leaned away from Wolfram. With the towel Yuuri had discarded earlier Wolfram covered his limp manhood.
The sight of his flushed, half-seated brother and the shifty king made Gwendal stop in his tracks. He cleared his throat then turned around and headed back to the door.
“You could have locked the door,” he muttered accusingly.
“There’s no lock,” Wolfram informed him.
“Then just do that in your chambers,” Gwendal grunted, discontent, and then shut the door.
Embarrassed to his bones and feeling incredibly awkward, Yuuri stared at the closed door. Then he looked back at Wolfram, who had flopped down back onto the bench. The realization of what he had done hit him full force, and the king’s face turned so red that even his ears shone like embers. The blond was staring up at him with an amused and questioning look, and Yuuri suddenly wasn’t able to handle it. He stood up, grabbed his clothes and, with an awkward gait caused by his disappearing erection, left the baths.
Openmouthed, Wolfram raised himself on his elbows then sat up. A ball of painful regret and betrayal settled in his chest. He had known that this was a bad idea. Yuuri was going to pretend that nothing had ever happened. He had known it would end like this but it wasn’t making it any easier. He cursed loudly.
The sound of the door opening made Wolfram look up in its direction. Slowly, Yuuri entered. From that far away Wolfram wasn’t able to see his face but he had a feeling that the king was still blushing like mad.
“Did you forget something?” Wolfram asked, his voice dripping with venom.
Yuuri was tempted to answer something about his boots by the bench but contented himself by shaking his head. He wished Wolfram could understand how troubled he was. He approached the blond and sat down on the bench next to him. He was mostly dressed already, only his jacket unbuttoned and his feet bare. Wolfram couldn’t help glancing down between the king’s legs – he was down.
“Well?” Wolfram prodded.
“I’m very sorry. I don’t know why I ran away. It was somehow…overwhelming.”
Wolfram rolled his eyes. How selfish. Had it ever occurred to Yuuri that he had been as overwhelmed or maybe even more?
TBC
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Bloom