Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Sunshine ❯ Buds ( Chapter 2 )

Sunshine II

 

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

Pairing: Conrad and Wolfram, others mentioned

A/N: Here, I will attempt to start the incest part. This is extremely hard because Conrad is like a wall half the time when I try to write him- prying into his personality is difficult. You really have no idea what is going on behind that smile of his. This time, when I write him… Its going to be slightly perverted. Woot.

 

//Conrad rode ahead of the Ruttenburg Division, never looking back at Blood Pledge Castle.

He had to ask himself, once more, why he was doing this. The damned leading the damned to a battle they could not win.

This was a fools' mission. It was a fool's hope…

Instead of leading the charge, he watched. He watched as his friends walked, one by one, to get slaughtered.

Then it was his turn to hold the blade.

He watched behind his own eyes as he slaughtered his friends, screaming at his betrayal. Yozak looked on in disbelief. Gwendal was so startled he could say nothing when he died-

Julia smiled, but then she always smiled…

His arms trembled as he fell, watching, wishing that it was his turn next. He hadn't deserved to survive. He should have-

“Shh… you're all right. You're safe,” a familiar voice murmured. Small hands patted his face. “I'ts just a dream.”

Conrad didn't want to look away from the slaughter he had caused, but the small hand directed his gaze away. The face was covered in shadow… but the blood turned to flower petals, falling from the sky in a blue rain. Conrad clung to the warm comfort offered, as the nightmare faded away.

It had been such a long time since a warm body had been next to his. His face buried itself in the soft hair, pulling the small form close.

His mind noted the scent- tears, sweat, and flowers. The body was not soft but very pliant, skin velvety under his hands.

There was something he should have remembered.

A soft gasp- familiar, for some reason- and a shift, and the body was gone, leaving the bed cold again.//

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Light hit Conrad's closed eyes, startling him awake. Yet he came awake instantly and completely, his old reflexes still sharp after two years of living as a civilian.

It felt odd to wake up in his old room after so much time away- he had not traveled as often once his father had died.

His old clothes had not changed… Someone had taken very good care of his room while he was gone. The clothes were neatly hung and pressed. A fresh bouquet of “Conrad stands on the Earth” was in a vase on his dresser.

Morning sounds in the castle could be heard all around him- from the bustling of maids to the cheerful cursing of soldiers as they gathered for practice and…

There was a creaking at his door, and two wide green eyes met his.

“Weller-kyo!”

Still using my title and not my name? Conrad grunted softly, having been dressing when he heard the door open.

His eyes drifted down Wolfram's form, noting any changes. His little brother had gotten older, even if it was barely four years locally. He was still blond and lovely, getting taller, the cute roundness of his face stretching out to reveal that he was delicately fey…

Conrad swallowed uncomfortably, hiding his sudden confusing discomfort behind a bland smile. (Rodriguez had told him on more than one occasion he looked like a pot smoker. Conrad had not asked. He didn't want to know.)

The youth in front of him was petulant. “Four years! Where have you been for four years?” he demanded, stalking up to him and poking his chest. “You never wrote! They never told me what you were doing just that you were away!”

Conrad's eyes fluttered a moment, somehow relieved that Wolfram still had the spirit to be mad. He recalled their last meeting and…

(Had Wolfram missed him?)

“Mother was a wreck, you jerk! Gwendal got more wrinkles! Who do you think you are, leaving like that? I don't care who you were doing an errand for! You could have let people know you were alive!”

He had missed him.

Wolfram's rants and ravings… He couldn't outright say he missed Conrad- to be associated with Conrad during the war was asking for trouble… But this…

“And what are you smiling about?” Wolframsnarled, with one last ferocious jab to the chest- and Conrad caught his finger, his smile still firmly in place. Yet it edged into understanding and compassionate. He had, maybe, understood something that went on underneath his little brother's temper…

Wolfram's hand had changed, he noted. It was definitely more powerful, though still fine boned and long. Rough calluses lined most of it… His little brother had been working on his swordsmanship, it appeared.

Looking down at Wolfram, he blinked, caught off guard. He couldn't ever say what it was, exactly, but the light played over Wolfram's eyes, caught in his hair, and Conrad's felt as if a fist had landed in his gut. His heart stopped and he forgot how to breathe, cold prickling his skin as he looked down, and he realized something.

Wolfram is beautiful, he thought. My god.

“Weller-kyo? Are you all right?” the blond asked, peering up at him, the edge lost from his voice.

“Its nothing,” he said, and he meant it. There was nothing wrong, nothing at all. He was just admiring his brother in a purely aesthetic sense. He could admit that his brother was beautiful. There was utterly nothing wrong in that. After all, the boy did take after their mother, one of the most beautiful women in Shin Makoku.

He really didn't suddenly want Wolf-

Conrad wouldn't let himself finish that thought. Instead, he told himself to remember Julia, or Yozak, or anyone else with whom he had ever had even a vaguely romantic interest in, instead of this…

No, no, no. Not his little brother.

“Are you sick? You didn't bring back any diseases from where you had been, had you?” Wolfram's eyes narrowed. “I'm taking you down to Gisela, Weller! You can't get the entire castle sick!”

He is worried.

Conrad felt himself smile for real this time, and Wolfram backed off, turning his head to the side.

“I'm perfectly fine, Wolfram,” he murmured, and Wolfram turned around, clearing his throat.

“All right then- mother wants us all to have breakfast together,” he said, voice oddly high. Conrad blinked. “Be there in half an hour or we'll eat without you. Stupid human,” he added the last bit, attempting to sound scathing, and Conrad blinked again as the door slammed at the boy's departure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Conrad did his best to avoid Wolfram for the next several weeks; of course, he told himself that it was because he was busy getting used to Shin Makoku again.

Not that it was difficult to stay busy.

There were always troops to train, people who would challenge his swordsmanship as the best in the country.

The morning was clear and bright; he and most of the other soldiers had discarded their jackets before the sun was too high.

There had been an uneasy peace since the end of the war; largely because the young men of Dai Shimaron were mostly dead and it would be a while until a new batch of humans were old enough to fight.

It made Conrad sick at times. He hated how prejudice on both sides caused so much death. Yet he was so good at dealing that death.

We have hope now, he reminded himself, with Julia as the next Maou, or rather, Yuuri.

His eyes flicked to a spot of gold in the shadows, as he disarmed his latest opponent.

Wolfram was standing there, leaning against a wall, and looking away so hard he might as well have been staring.

Conrad had to stifle the sudden urge to laugh.

“You could have waited for me,” Wolfram murmured, and Conrad wondered how to translate that in Wolfram-speak. He never seemed to mean exactly what he said.

“I'm sorry,” he heard himself say politely. There wasn't much else he could do. He knew Wolfram couldn't ask to join- and with a shock- he didn't want to send him away.

Wolfram tossed his head, and came over, drawing his sword. Conrad glanced over him with a careful eye.

His stance was solid, though very influenced by Gunter's technique. That must be who he annoyed into teaching him, Conrad thought. His little brother was nothing if not stubborn.

Flicking his own sword into a guard position, he narrowed his eyes, watching Wolfram dart in, striking quickly.

He had improved, Conrad thought, admiringly. Not quite an adult yet, but still good… He fought down the fierce pride in his little brother that came with that thought. He refused to let anything show on his face. Wolfram, on the other hand, let everything show. His fierce concentration, his exhilaration as their wills and swords collided, his worry when Conrad had no holes in his defense as he probed.

Conrad felt like a tutor, watching as his student was examined.

“Stay focused, Wolfram,” he said patiently, letting the more energetic boy wear himself out.

He disarmed Wolfram- but instead of giving up, his little brother dived for the sword and rolled to his feet, attacking again, locking the hilts of their blades downwards.

Conrad frowned. Wolfram had to know he couldn't win…

Yet he wouldn't give up.

The soldier leaned down. “Yield, Wolfram.” He was barely straining, while Wolfram was grunting with effort.

“No.”

“Wolfram,” he said, frowning, a split second before Wolfram leaned in, pressing their lips together.

Conrad's eyes bulged, the blade dropping from his suddenly nerveless fingers, lurching backwards.

“What are you doing?”

Then Wolfram's blade kissed his throat.

“Winning,” he replied, and Conrad stared down at his shit eating grin.

That little…

Turning away, he put his practice blade on the weapons' rack, grabbing a towel and walking away. He refused to keep looking at him.

“Hey, Weller!”

Conrad groaned. He couldn't deal with this…

“Weller-kyo!”

He sped his feet, but he refused to run. He couldn't let Wolfram know that the reason he couldn't stay was because (he kept feeling Wolfram's lips on his) he couldn't stand to see Wolfram's smug face.

“But,” he could hear steps as Wolfram caught up to him. “Weller-kyo!”

Why did his little brother have to sound so disappointed?

“You're technique has improved,” Conrad finally stopped and turned around. He wished he could indulge in the indignity of biting his bottom lip. Wolfram was flushed, green eyes sparkling and his hair in disarray, making his fingers itch to push it back. His shirt had gotten quite mussed during their spar, opening enough to give a glimpse of pale skin. He should look away but since he wasn't bothered by what he saw, he didn't need to. Right?

He hated to kill that proud look, but he needed to hear the bad.

“You are still too impulsive- and you need to learn real technique,” Conrad tried not to spit the words. “That was a foolish risk. It was dishonorable, cheating, and faulty. What if I hadn't reacted? You would have been gutted.”

“But you did- and its not like I would use it every time, or on anyone else!” Wolfram was agitated because Conrad wasn't happy.

Conrad grunted.

“And there was no other way I could have beaten you. Aren't you-“ Wolfram swallowed, and Conrad felt his heart lurch. Wolfram still wanted his big brother's approval, and his big brother wanted…

Nothing, because he was still firmly refusing to believe he wanted anything else.

“Wolfram- you can't rely on cheap tricks.”

His eyes went huge. “It was my first kiss! That was not a cheap trick! Dammit, I tried hard to think of a way I could beat you!” he shrieked, whirling and running down the hall.

Conrad stopped dead in his tracks as Wolfram ran off.

His brother was childish and immature- but still.

His first kiss?

Pressing his hand to his lips, Conrad shuddered.

 

To be continued.