Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Forgotten ❯ Head games ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Wolfram and Yuuri, others mentioned

A/N: I should be working on Nanowrimo. However, as my niece had died mere hours after her delivery, I feel I have a reason to work on whatever the hell I want.

The ball thumped solidly into Yuuri’s glove- a massive improvement over the day before, when Wolfram could only toss the ball in his direction.

“Why do you play this?” Wolfram asked. So far they had just tossed a ball.

“It’s fun!” Yuuri retorted, tossing the ball a little more forcefully. “It’s a competition, it’s exciting, and you learn teamwork!”

Wolfram was a bit skeptical, but he continued to catch the ball and toss it back. He opened his mouth briefly, and then shook his head. “I think I should see a game first.”

Yuuri made a face. “It’s worth it, really! Someday, if I ever get the chance, I am so taking you to a game with me.” He tossed the white ball again, this time a lot more forcefully.

Wolfram rolled his eyes, before yelping as he dodged.

“Hey, trust me a little!” Yuuri pouted. Wolfram growled a bit, more annoyed at having to run after the ball than anything.

Wolfram snapped it back at him, like he was using one of his spells- making Yuuri yelp at the power behind it. His expression was a familiar one- like when he was about to accuse Yuuri of being a cheater, before it faded to a look of puzzlement.

“I guess I do,” Wolfram shrugged, bracing for another toss. Yuuri laughed a bit, guessing that Wolfram had just forgotten whatever it was he was going to say. There was silence for a few moments.

“Hey, Wolfram?” Yuuri found himself asking before he could stop. There was something that he had been afraid to ask. “Why do you dislike Conrad, and humans, so much?”

Wolfram looked at him like he was crazy, opened his mouth, shut it again, and looked thoughtful. Yuuri paused tossing the ball.

“For a lot of reasons, I guess. Though I think it has the most to do with how Dan Hiri Weller- Weller’s father- made mother cry.”

“Eh?” Yuuri blinked.

“I only met Weller’s father once. By then, he was a wrinkled old man. He had left mother years before… I don’t know why. I didn’t know why he was so old. I didn’t know that humans aged so much faster than Mazoku… And mother cried when she found out he had died. She had never stopped loving him, even after he had left and she had married my father. She said that was why she thought so many Mazoku hated humans, because no matter how much you love them, no matter what you do… They will always go before you.”

Yuuri kept his mouth shut. Wolfram wasn’t making too much sense so far…

“I had started to notice that Chisa-Aniue had gotten older faster than I had, but I didn’t know why. That was the night I found out he was half human… And it was also when I realized I didn’t want to ever love a human. Mother cried and cried… It was so much easier to hate them, than to be afraid of loving them. You only get hurt in the end. Conrad was my hero… But I realized then, that he would die so much sooner than I would. It just wasn’t fair, and if I didn’t hate him, I would cry like mother.”

The words were soft, like a child telling of a nightmare. Yuuri felt his throat close up.

“It was easier and easier to hate them as time passed. With the war twenty years ago, all I could do was sit on the sidelines and watch as my brothers fought. Stoffel’s beliefs about humans being lesser ran rampant. It became second nature to believe they were evil. It was so much easier to hate the humans than it was to be afraid for all the people who went to fight.”

Yuuri could barely hear Wolfram as he went on, and he started to see a bit more clearly this person who had been his fiancé. Wolfram had thought with a child’s reasoning- since he’d been a child at the time. He was as much a product of his upbringing as Yuuri himself was...

“It was so much easier to hate Weller than,” Wolfram turned away, and Yuuri could see tears down his cheeks. “It was easier to hate him than to be afraid for him. It was easier to hate him than to hate mother for letting him be sent out on the front lines. It was just… so much easier to hate. I didn’t want to love because I would have so much more to lose.”

Silence settled over the two boys, and Yuuri looked away.

“I never really thought of that,” he said, a quirky, humorless smile on his face. “I didn’t really think about how it had to have been for you. You look like you’re my age- well, you did- and it’s hard to remember that Mazoku live so long.” His stomach twisted up. “I’m sorry, Wolfram.”

“For what?” The blond had managed to calm down, but his green eyes were still rimmed in red. Yuuri patted himself down for a handkerchief.

“For thinking you were just a brat.” His smile was painful as he offered the folded piece of linen in his pocket. He stepped hesitantly towards Wolfram. “I didn’t really think you’d have a reason for why you acted like that. I just thought you hated your brother because you were prejudiced against humans…”

More awkward silence, before Yuuri grabbed Wolfram’s hand, and tugged him to his chest, wrapping his arms around Wolfram’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Wolfram.”

He hadn’t considered that Wolfram might be afraid of something. The boy had always been arrogant and brash (if weak stomached). The fact that humans died so soon, compared to Mazoku… What about his own mother? As far as he could tell, his father had lived a normal lifespan… The idea was too scary to contemplate right then.

Yuuri hugged him tightly, taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

Wolfram wondered exactly how this had happened- one minute they were throwing a small round ball at each other, the next, he was confessing his deepest fears to a person he barely knew-

And now he was being held. They were chest to chest, cheek to cheek, in an intimate embrace that had absolutely nothing to do with- anything else.

Wolfram pulled his mind out of the gutter. Sure, the king was utterly gorgeous in an exotic way… And he was so warm, his breath against Wolfram’s neck, and he was offering comfort that he had not had since he had run to his brother’s room as a toddler during a thunder storm.

His own arms curled upwards and around Yuuri’s waist, eyes wide- to Wolfram’s shock he thought he was going to start crying again.

“Yuuri,” he whispered, and dropped his head to the king’s black clad shoulder. Somehow he wanted this. He wanted the king to understand. He wanted Yuuri to hold him. The shield of indifference and annoyance he held over his heart broke.

No memories, but longing gushed out, and he pulled Yuuri even closer. Somehow he’d wanted Yuuri to hold him like this for a very long time.

He was crying, despite his effort to hold it back. The past, the war… To a human, it was a lifetime, but to a Mazoku, it was barely gone.

Yet tears could only last so long. The embrace outlasted that, and Wolfram’s mind went into hiding. He tried not to think about what he was doing, just registered the feelings.

Warm- the other was so warm. His bed had been so cold; this was the warmth he’d missed. Yuuri smelled good. They fit well together- he wouldn’t have to strain if he was to-

Wolfram told his libido to shut up. He was being comforted, damn it, not opening the prelude to one of his mother’s smutty novels.

Okay, maybe Yuuri’s breathing in his ear was speeding up. He felt Yuuri’s hug loosen but their bodies were pressed closely, and his hands were sliding down his back. His own hands were resting right above Yuuri’s backside, and if he just slid down-

He pulled back enough to look at Yuuri, who was looking back at him. Neither had let the other go and the tension was so thick it could be cut and spread.

Wolfram’s eyes fixed on Yuuri’s lips, which he licked and…

They sprang apart like they had been goosed.

“Ah, I think we had better go back, yup… We should.” Yuuri said, nodding emphatically. Wolfram nodded as well, swallowing hard and turning away, very glad for the uniform coat that covered his front. Lusting over your king, especially a young one who… was so cute and cuddly and filled out his uniform so well…

He wondered if his face was as red as Yuuri’s. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

Yuuri’s cheeks burned as they wandered back to Blood Pledge Castle.

The near kiss had been painfully obvious to both of them, and Yuuri was acutely aware of how awkward things were now. Sexual tension was something Yuuri had never dealt with like this- not where it had hit him in both the heart and the groin at the same time and he had been dizzy with the thought of how Wolfram might taste and feel. His previous feelings of denial were trampled by the memory of how Wolfram felt against him.

They were walking shoulder to shoulder so they wouldn’t have to look at each other, making it easy for them to ignore each other. Though he guessed that Wolfram was as painfully aware of the person he was walking with as he was.

Their arms brushed- and both sprang apart again, walking on opposite sides of the road, yet still very much aware that the other was there.

“Um… What did you plan to do tonight?” Yuuri heard himself ask, and nearly covered his mouth with his hand. What was he, crazy?

Yuuri didn’t want to part with Wolfram just yet. He was scared witless- he could feel sweat soaking through his uniform every time they looked at each other- but it was a good kind of scared. Now that he wasn’t fighting the idea, he remembered how much he had enjoyed holding the beautiful blonde. He had also noticed that Wolfram did not object…

The other guy was steadily looking elsewhere still, yet they had drifted together again, and Yuuri wondered what else he could dare tonight without dying of embarrassment. The hug had been spontaneous, but the near kiss had been too much, and now...

Taking a deep breath, he swung his arm a bit, hoping… and his fingers caught Wolfram’s. He let them stay hooked together because he was still too shy to hold Wolfram’s hand.

Wolfram’s head swiveled around immediately. Yuuri was afraid to crane his neck around to see his expression, but he could hear Wolfram’s breathing hitch.

The fingers tightened with his, before carefully creeping up to wrap around his hand. Yuuri still refused to look, but he smiled. Since he wasn’t the one initiating (exactly) he wasn’t quite so embarrassed.

“I had nothing really in mind,” Wolfram replied, sounding breathless.

Yuuri swallowed. “I know you don’t like it but… could you sing again? Or play the piano?” Yuuri’s shoulders hunched, in fear of an angry refusal.

“You really liked my singing?” was the tentative answer.

“Yes!” Yuuri turned to face him without hesitation, forgetting that they weren’t supposed to look at each other. “That was beautiful! I had no idea you could sing- I was nearly in tears!”

Yuuri’s heart fluttered. Wolfram’s expression was open and soft, nervousness lurking in his wide eyes.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Wolfram was blushing now, and Yuuri swallowed hard.

Its amazing how once Murata hit me with the possibility, it was easier to believe Wolfram was attractive. Even if I did say he was beautiful when we met…

“I did. I hope you keep it up.” Yuuri squeezed Wolfram’s hand- and this time they didn’t spring apart as they arrived back at Blood Pledge Castle.

“All you have to do is ask, Yuuri.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

Wolfram looked down, and was surprised to see he was not walking on air as he strode down the hall.

Yuuri had asked him to play for him that night… They had held hands on the way home… They had nearly kissed…

A goofy grin planted itself on his face. This new Maou was confusing and he made little sense, with his tossing balls and weird games, but when they had had fun. He could talk to this young man, he was kind… Wolfram put his hand over his heart. It had been a long time, if ever, since he had felt it race like this.

He passed the portraits of the Original King and the Great Sage, and paused before them briefly. It had always unnerved him much they looked alike- in his mind, he was Wolfram and only Wolfram should look like Wolfram. He shouldn’t have the face of some scary dead guy with a lot of power and after-death employment.

After so many years of seeing the portrait- his whole life in fact- he usually passed by without a glance. Yet for the moment, he wanted to contemplate.

“Ah, Sir von Bielefeld!” a voice chirped, and Wolfram twisted to see the smiling visage of the Great Sage, also known as Murata Ken.

“I was hoping to talk to you for a moment,” the Great Sage said, his eyes hidden behind the glare of his spectacles and his lips smiling. Wolfram felt a chill go down his spine for some reason and his heart raced without warning-

Wolfram shook his head, looking around. He was still looking up at the portrait of the Original King and there was no one in the hall but himself.

Smiling and humming a faint tune, he continued on to the dining room.

To be continued.

A/N: I buried my niece today. I’m fairly sure I’m not going to be able to do nanowrimo now, so I’ll keep with this for a while longer.