Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Wolfram's Bruise ❯ Wolfram's Bruise ( Chapter 1 )

Wolfram's Bruise

One-shot

Written by: Chocho

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyo Kara Maoh! or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Summary: As Wolfram reads a story to Greta, she notices a strange mark on Wolfram's neck

Warning: m/m sexual content, anal, OOC (?)

Inserts: “Why me?” by Robby Syruws (student from my poetry class)

A/N: No, you're not imagining things and no, I'm not lost. Yes, I am writing a KKM fanfic. This is my first one. Usually I write Gravitation fanfics, but I had this idea for a story and decided to go with it.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

He was so hot. The place where they were joined ached pleasantly. As he was rocked, in his delirium he forgot to close his mouth and continually gasped.

 

“Yu…ri!”

 

“Wolfram,” his partner cried out above him.

 

“Nn…! Ah…! Ah!” the demon prince panted wildly.

 

Yuri's rhythm changed. He began to speed up.

 

“Uh…!” Wolfram clasped his king's shoulders, his fingers clawing at Yuri's back. Wolfram's legs were bent; one of his knees was pointed at the ceiling while the other one hugged Yuri's hip tightly.

 

Something was happening. Wolfram could feel it.

 

“Yu…ri…Yuri! I…”

 

“I love you…Wolfram…” Yuri grunted. With a final thrust he climaxed, spilling his essence deeply inside of his fiancé and soon to be husband.

 

“Ah…ahhh!” Wolfram's grip tightened on Yuri's shoulders as his orgasm swept through him, coloring his vision. It bowed Wolfram's back, arching him off the bed. His head was flung back. Green eyes glazed over in passion, stared blankly at the shelf behind the bed as he emitted all of the heat that had been building up inside of him at once.

 

Panting heavily, Wolfram lay in a boneless heap.

 

The added weight that collapsed onto Wolfram was delicious. He hugged his arms around Yuri, holding him tightly against him. They lay in comforting silence in each others arms as they tried to slow their racing hearts and relearn how to breathe.

 

After a while, Yuri propped himself up in a half pushup motion with a grimace and rolled off of Wolfram. He collapsed on his back onto the bed besides Wolfram with a groan. His whole body ached, but he languished in the exhaustion that swept through him.

 

Yuri knew they had to change the bed sheets and wash up before they fell asleep, otherwise they were going to pay for it in the morning, or more accurately, he was going to pay for it when Wolfram woke up covered with a thick layer of dried come all over him, but fatigue took a firm hold of Yuri before that thought was even half finished.

 

He was half aware of the bed being jostled as Wolfram snuggled up against him. Before long, soft snores permeated the night as the demon king and his consort gave into the demands of the night.

 

*

 

(The Next Morning)

 

“`D'ya ever have an awful day/Where nothin' ever goes your way?'”

 

Greta giggled from her seat on Wolfram's lap. “It rhymes!”

 

“Yeah, it sure does,” Wolfram agreed.

 

Once again, Yuri had been hulled off by Günter right after the breakfast dishes had been cleared away. Apparently he had several stacks of papers that had to be signed before lunch. Then he had his studies and after that he had his sparring lessons with Conrart.

 

There were supposed to host Mr. Heathcrife and his daughter Beatrice for dinner that night, but they had sent word by carrier pigeon that they would not be able to arrive until the next morning, at the earliest, because of a sudden storm that was brewing off the coast of Cavalcade. So, instead, Günter had decided that “His Majesty should get a head start on other matters of state”.

 

While they waited for Yuri to finish, Wolfram and Greta were killing time by reading a book that Yuri had brought back with him the last time he journeyed to Earth. It was called “Why me?”.

 

“'Well this is one of those days for me/It was the worse I say, times three!/It started when I fell out of bed/And sprained my toe and hit my head'.”

 

Greta giggled at the picture that showed a little boy, who had apparently fallen out of bed, on the floor rubbing a large bump on his head. There was a single tear in the corner of his eye. “That's funny.”

 

“`D'ya ever have an awful day/Where nothin' ever goes your way?”

 

Greta giggled again.

 

“`I spilt the juice I tried to pour/And watched it drip right to the floor/On my knees to clean it up/I wonder how I missed the cup?'”

 

The illustration this time showed the boy at the kitchen table looking incredulously at his empty cup that sat in the middle of a pool of what had to be juice. Greta laughed.

 

Wolfram snorted. Were all Humans this clumsy? He thought of Yuri and realized he had his answer.

 

As he turned the page, his daughter's inquiring voice broke into the silence. “Hey, Wolfram?”

 

“Yes? What is it Greta?”

 

“Uhm, what's that on your neck?”

 

Keeping a finger in the book to mark the page, Wolfram glanced at Greta. “Where?”

 

Greta pointed at an ugly, dark, circular mark that was partially covered by the collar of Wolfram's jacket. “Right there.”

 

Wolfram touched where Greta indicated.

 

“It looks like a bruise,” she said innocently.

 

Wolfram gasped. His eyes went wide. He clasped a hand over the bruise and jumped to his feet, spilling both Greta and the book to the castle floor.

 

“Ow,” Greta cried. Rubbing her sore behind, she lifted her head and saw Wolfram making a hasty retreat out of the library. “Wolfram?” she called after him.

 

*

 

At the sound of hurried approaching feet, the words died on Conrart's tongue. He had been speaking with a group of the castle guards about new patrol parameters that were going to be instituted by Gwendal in the next few days. He stepped away from the men, dismissing them back to their posts, and glancing down the hall, spotted Wolfram racing towards him.

 

“Wolfram?” Conrart questioned.

 

Wolfram rushed past him in a blur of color without a word. His left hand was clasping the right side of his neck and he had a flustered expression on his face.

 

“I wonder what's gotten into him.”

 

He looked over his shoulder when he heard movement behind him and saw Greta standing in the open library doorway.

 

“Greta?”

 

“Hi, Conrart.”

 

“Do you know where Wolfram took off to in such a hurry?”

 

“No.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Greta shrugged. “I just asked him about his bruise.”

 

Conrart raised an eyebrow at that. “A bruise?”

 

“Yeah,” Greta nodded. “We were reading and I noticed a bruise on Wolfram's neck, so I asked him about it.”

 

Conrart glanced at his younger brothers retreating figure. “I wonder.”

 

Greta looked up at her uncle. “Was he hurt, Conrart? Will he be okay?” she asked.

 

Conrart chuckled. “Oh, don't worry, Greta. He'll be fine.”

 

*

 

When the words on the legal document he was supposed to be going over started swimming, Yuri set the pen down next to the ink well and resting his elbows on the desk, pressed his fingers into his tired eyes.

 

“This sucks.”

 

Sometimes he really did not like being king. All this paperwork was so tedious and redundant and all this legal mumbo jumbo just confused the hell out of him. He was steadily becoming better at his role as King, but he still had a lot to learn. And that was why he relied upon those around him for help, especially Günter, but his aide had been “volunteered” temporarily by Anissina. Yuri wished the man luck. He was going to need it.

 

Sighing heavily, Yuri wondered what time it was. It felt like he had been at this forever.

 

Dropping his arms, Yuri leaned his head back against the top of the chair and shut his eyes. Forcing himself to relax, he slowly felt the tension ease out of his body.

 

An image of Wolfram's grim face popped into his mind and he wondered what his hot headed fiancé was doing. He could just picture the demon prince scowling and muttering angrily to himself, and anyone who had the misfortune of being nearby, just what a wimp the Demon King really was. The image was so vivid and so Wolfram that it brought a smirk to Yuri's face. He chuckled lightly.

 

But his laughter was cut short as the office doors unexpectedly burst open.

 

Nearly jumping out of his skin at the explosive intrusion, Yuri's eyes popped open with a startled gasp. His head flew up. Speak of the devil. “Wolfram!” he breathed. He placed a hand over his racing heart. “You scared me half to death!” he accused.

 

Wolfram, not appearing apologetic in the least, stormed into the office.

 

Yuri gulped nervously. He wondered what it was he had supposedly done this time. “You know, I was just thinking about you.”

 

Wolfram's step faltered. He blushed, but shook himself. “As well you should be,” he snapped at Yuri. “But we have others matters that you should be dwelling on,” he said as he stepped up to the desk.

 

“What's that?” Yuri asked.

 

“This!” Wolfram tugged down the collar of his uniform jacket.

 

Yuri blinked stupidly at the dark mark on his fiancé's neck. It took him several long seconds to realize just what it was he was supposed to be looking at. “Wolfram, is that a-?”

 

“You know damn will it is!”

 

Yuri blushed. “I'm sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He had never really seen one before and he had to admit that he felt a sense of pride when he saw the mark that adorned Wolfram's neck and that he had been the one to put it there. He knew it was barbaric, but Yuri loved the idea that this mark branded Wolfram as his.

 

“You'd better be, Wimp!” Wolfram crossed his arms over his chest with a `humph'.

 

Yuri watched Wolfram silently. He cocked his head to the side. “…Hey, Wolfram? Don't you think that's strange?”

 

“Huh? What're you babbling about now?”

 

“You're getting awfully upset over something as simple as a hickey.”

 

Wolfram dropped his arms and growled lightly. “And like the stupid wimp that you are, you aren't taking this seriously at all!”

 

“`Seriously'?” Yuri repeated in amusement. “Wolfram, it's just a hickey.”

 

Wolfram was scandalized. “`Just a hickey'? `Just a hickey'? You obviously don't grasp how serious this situation is!”

 

Yuri sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. Wolfram was such a prima donna. “Jeez, Wolfram. You act like having a hickey is a sign of the Apocalypse, or something.”

 

Wolfram's face went bright red. A strangled cry was torn from his lips. He sped around the desk and slapped his hands over Yuri's mouth. His eyes wide in panic, he glanced over his shoulder at the open office door. “Will you stop saying that word, you fool!” he hissed. “What if someone hears you?”

 

Yuri was taken back. He forcibly removed Wolfram's hands from his mouth. “So?” He did not understand the problem.

 

“`So'? You wimp!”

 

Yuri searched Wolfram's face studiously. “…Wolfram. Does it embarrass you?”

 

Wolfram went still. “Huh?”

“The hickey. Are you ashamed of it?”

 

That got Wolfram angry. “Of course not!” he snapped. “How can you ask something so vulgar?”

 

Yuri's eyes went hard. “What I'm supposed to think, Wolfram? You come storming in here all upset about a love bite on your neck!”

 

Wolfram blushed. “You're not supposed to think anything,” he snapped, through his embarrassment. “You're supposed to know that if word gets back to Gwendal that you deflowered his little brother before we were properly married, he's going to castrate and disembowel you and use your guts for garters!”

 

Yuri went pale. He gulped.

 

“Not to mention what Günter'll do when he finds out about `this kind of behavior before' we're `bound by matrimony'!” Wolfram turned his back to Yuri and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

How could Yuri not comprehend the severity of this situation? For someone who was supposedly the Demon King, Yuri was pretty out of the loop.

 

Truthfully, he could care less what Günter thought about them having pre-marital sex. What he and Yuri did in the privacy of their bedroom, or wherever they happened to be at the time, was none of Günter's business. Günter's job as the King's Aide had nothing to do with Yuri and his sex life, but his brother was a horse of a different color. Gwendal might not look it, but he was very over protective of his younger siblings, especially after the debacle that had occurred with Conrart last year. And if Wolfram knew anything about Gwendal, the Commander-in-Chief would think nothing about harming the Demon King if it meant protecting the honor of his little brother.

 

Besides, how could Yuri even think that he would be even the least bit ashamed of the “bruise” on the neck? Yes, he was a little embarrassed by “it”. He would admit that much, but not in the way that Yuri was thinking. If anyone saw “it”, then they would know instantly what “it” was and how “it” came to be there and what the two of them had been in the midst of doing at the time of “it's” creation. It was embarrassing in that regard. Their sex life was nobody's business. It was not something up for public display.

 

Moreover, if his men were to see it, there was no way they would take him seriously as their Commander.

 

Wolfram jumped when he felt arms wrap around his waist. He glanced over his shoulder. “Yuri?”

 

Yuri embraced Wolfram from behind. He pressed his lips over the hickey on Wolfram's neck in a brief, chaste kiss. “I used to complain when you acted so protective of me,” he said softly.

 

A red flush brushed across Wolfram's face. Sometimes he did not like that Yuri had come to be able to read him so easily.

 

Pressing their cheeks together, Yuri tightened his arms around Wolfram. “But I think it's kind of sweet.”

 

“Wha-!”

 

Wolfram's cry of protestation was cut short by a soft press of lips against his. His lids fluttered closed and he melted into the kiss.

 

*

 

With a smile, Conrart turned from the scene and noiselessly shut the office doors. Now, how to break the news to Gwendal without any blood being spilled.

 

 

 

***OWARI***

 

 

 

A/N: So, how'd I do? Unlike some people, I actually do like Greta so I made sure she was in the story. And as for the over-protective older brother, that's me all the way. I'm the oldest of six. Anyway, until next time!!