Water, Water Everywhere, Pt.2

It was requested, so it was done. Here's part two (a sequal, if you will) to Water, Water Everywhere.... Knowledge of that story isn't absolutely necessary, but it helps. This is more angsty than I usually write, but that's not a bad thing, I think. Anyway, on to the story!

Water, Water Everywhere...Part 2


The better part of the journey back to the castle was undertaken in silence. Eventually, Murata spoke. Yuuri was glad for the distraction; the bumpy ride was in direct conflict with his attempts to overrule the hardness that still raged in his trousers.

"You know, there'll be a welcoming committee waiting for us," Murata said, much more cheerfully than any sexually frustrated teenager should.

Yuuri groaned unhappily. "Is there any way we can bypass it?"

Murata's smile held just a hint of mischief. "Well, there are several options, but one comes to mind as particularly right for the occasion. Although I have to say, it does flout the seriousness of affairs of state."

"Whatever, Murata. Just do it."

****

Wolfram ran down the hall, irritated that he had let time slip up on him and now was late to meet Yuuri when he got back. Though he was not paying attention to where he was going, Wolfram was nonetheless surprised when he ran into something that was too soft to be a wall.

"Wolfram, are you all right?" Wolfram looked up into concerned and slightly amused brown eyes.

"Conrad, has Yuuri gotten here yet?"

Conrad nodded. "He arrived about a half hour ago, but rushed past us, saying there was an urgent matter he and Geika had to discuss. Gunter was very disappointed, I'm afraid."

Wolfram furrowed his eyebrows. That was very unusual. And even so, he should be including the others in the meeting, not just scheming with Geika.

"I'm going to find him," Wolfram announced, shaking blonde hair out of his face.

"Actually, I was just going to ask for your assistance. Gwendal and I are preparing for a scouting party, and wanted your input."

Wolfram scrutinized his brother for any hint of underlying motives. Finding nothing but mild inquiry in Conrad's eyes, he begrudingly agreed, making note to henpeck Yuuri later for not coming straight to him when he got home.

Conrad peered down the corridor from the corner of his eye. He saw light streaming from under Geika's door. He wanted Yuuri to be happy, but...either way, someone was going to be hurt. Giving a mental sigh, he headed toward Gwendal's office, his younger brother in tow.

****

"Really, Murata. I thought you'd...mmm..have a more delicate plan."

Murata smiled as he nipped lightly at Yuuri's nipple. "A direct approach is sometimes the best strategy."

"Well, you're the Strategist." Yuuri arched his back as Murata worked his way down Yuuri's stomach, using both tongue and teeth to tease and worry at Yuuri's sensitive skin.

"But still, a frontal assault?" Yuuri managed between moans. "What if Conrad and Gunter noticed?"

"Neither will say anything," Murata replied, dangerously close to Yuuri's hard member. Yuuri could feel his warm breath against his skin and shivered.

"Please, Murata," he breathed, bucking his hips for emphasis. Even as Murata took him into his mouth, Yuuri felt a hint of guilt tugging at the back of his hazy mind. What do you want, a voice in his head whispered. I...really don't know what I want. Except for this, with Murata, for as long as he'll let me have him.

The voice was soon silenced, overtaken by sheer want and desire. For what seemed like too short a time, there was nothing on Yuuri's mind but the pleasure and care with which Murata was touching him, licking him, engulfing him. Yuuri's senses were dazed, overwhelmed with odours; the smell of Murata, his sweat mingling with Yuuri's own, the look in his eyes, so different from anything he'd ever seen on his friend's face before.

And then he exploded into Murata's mouth, crying out his name softly, his orgasm made even more intense as he locked eyes with the black haired boy above him.

Not wasting a moment, he sat up, pulling Murata down beside him.

"Yuuri," Murata said, almost as a sigh as Yuuri lowered himself
to Murata's cock, never breaking eye contact. He watched Murata as he licked and sucked, tongue teasing the purple head, and groaned deeply at the sight of Murata's head tossed back in abandon, his parted lips, each laboured breath, dark eyes assuring him that he was doing well, despite his lack of experience. And in that moment, as clear as day, he knew. This was what he wanted, had never known or dreamed he wanted, but nevertheless, did want, terribly.

Yuuri felt Murata tense up and seconds later, nearly choked on the thick, bitter stream of semen that poured down his throat. Swallowing as best he could, he pulled a face at Murata, who just grinned at him.

"Sorry I didn't have time to warn you," Murata muttered huskily, taking gulps of air.

Yuuri shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

"No, it's fine. I kind of wanted to taste you anyway."

Murata groaned, and pulled Yuuri up, brushing his lips lightly against Yuuri's.

Confident in the decision he'd made, Yuuri returned the kiss, banishing all thoughts of uncertaintly and worry, and moved into Murata's arms.

Long after Yuuri had fallen asleep, Murata remained awake. He knew this relationship (or whatever it was) with Yuuri would lead to heartache for either him or Wolfram, and he also knew that whichever happened, Yuuri would hurt too. He cared too deeply about them both for it not to affect him.

Murata considered putting an end to it all. He could easily leave the room, smiling and joking in the morning like nothing ever happened. He had done it before, smiled through the pain; it was nothing new. The Daikenja had experienced it with Shinou, Christine had experienced it with Julia. It would be no different between Murata and Yuuri.

But still, just once, to have it go right would be so...

"Wonderful," he whispered to himself.

He would stay where he was, holding the Maou of Shin Makoku in his arms, and he would be there when Yuuri woke up. He'd face whatever his fate was in this lifetime, and he'd bear it with the grace and dignity with which he had borne it before.

In his sleep, Yuuri sighed happily, his black hair mixing with Murata's own, slightly different shade of black.

And in the hall, outside Murata's door, Wolfram cried.