Disclaimer – I do not own or profit from Kyo Kara Maoh. More's the pity. ('lol')

Oh. And nor do I own Tootsie Pops, or profit from them, or even have one to suck on, now that I think about it. (--insert cheesy wink here--)

Rated T for slash/shonen ai/boys-loving-boys. If you like this anime, I doubt you'll mind that so much...

This fic won (with five other fics not written by me, but by other, much more talented people) a contest over at yaoiville. net. Don't ask me how, 'cause I still don't know... ('lol') But I'm very flattered nonetheless. ('grin')

Anyway, enjoy. Peace, all.


Mission: Seduce Yuri Shibuya

by Ghost Helwig


Wolfram was, above all else, a jealous boy.

So naturally, when he saw his fiancé spending far, far too much time with Conrad, his own older brother (whether he openly acknowledged him or not), he had to put a stop to it. But Yuri often 'needed' Conrad (or so he said), and Conrad had a duty to 'protect' Yuri (a fine excuse, particularly when Wolfram himself was there to protect their precious wimp of a Demon King), and so 'breaking them up' seemed indescribably difficult.

But Wolfram couldn't accept that.

After some careful thought and diligent planning, he decided on a plan of action. He had a mission.

'Seduce Yuri Shibuya.'

It didn't matter that he'd never seduced anyone before and that as Yuri's fiancé his claim on the young Demon King was already infinitely stronger than his older brother's. It didn't even matter that he didn't think he was even attracted to Yuri.

This was a matter of pride. Of honor. Yuri was his, and he would do whatever it took to keep him.

He knew he would have to work hard, though. In all the time he'd been sneaking into Yuri's bed at night, Yuri had never once made a move on him. He knew it couldn't be him – no one, male or female, could resist his many charms. So it had to be that something was wrong with Yuri.

Which figured, really. Pathetic wimp.

But the point was, he had his work cut out for him. Yuri could not be easily seduced.

Which suited Wolfram just fine. He never could resist a challenge-

And nothing easy could ever be truly worthwhile.

This plan, however difficult it proved to be, would work. He would succeed in seducing Yuri Shibuya-

If it killed him.

Or, more likely, Yuri.


Mission, Day One

Since Yuri was spending the day in boring lessons with Günter, Wolfram spent the day practicing his swordsmanship against his men right below the room Yuri was studying within. Surely Yuri would grow bored – he often did, listening to Günter babble (but then, who didn't?) – and look out the window. And then Yuri would 'conveniently' see Wolfram enthusiastically practicing down below him, sweaty and glistening and beautiful-

But if Yuri ever looked down from his high perch, Wolfram never caught him at it.

At dinner that night, Wolfram found himself yelling at a very confused Yuri for a good ten minutes before stalking off in a huff. Later, he would not remember what he'd been so angry about. He suspected the mashed potatoes Conrad passed to Yuri might've been involved.

But he wasn't sure.


Mission, Day Two

Another day; more practicing. Wolfram was determined, dammit. He would make Yuri see him. He would make Yuri notice and remember (make him care).

To that end, he deigned to remove his shirt as the day wore on, once he was sure he was sweaty enough for his skin to practically glow under the sunlight.

And maybe the glow would hide his new, semi-permanent blush (who was comfortable being this exposed? Who?). One could hope.

But once again, all was for naught – he didn't see Yuri looking out at him once. And he spent so much time watching for Yuri that his own man bested him no less than four times.

Where was the Demon Prince he'd expected to see gazing out at him longingly, a dumb(er than usual) look on his (cute) face and a suspiciously bright gleam in his (surprisingly gorgeous) eyes? Where was that stupid wimp he happily pushed around at every turn? Where the hell was Yuri, damn it all?

Afterwards, Wolfram was mildly horrified and more than a little flabbergasted when this man, his own trustworthy second-in-command, who'd shown no wildly inappropriate inclinations towards him previously, began flirting with him. Heavily. So heavily, in fact, that two of his other men got offended, and unceremoniously beat the first man down.

When they began to hit on hit on him too (glaring daggers at each other the whole time), Wolfram decided the entire male gender was insane (himself dubiously included, for even allowing this), mentally threw up his hands in defeat, and stalked upstairs to bathe before dinner.

He washed his hands of the lot of them. Really.

He held his temper relatively in check with an effort during the meal, a task made infinitely easier by Conrad's conspicuous absence – he was out in the world tonight, patrolling the countryside with his own soldiers, and would be gone for another two whole days at the very least (and if Wolfram inwardly cheered when hearing this, who could blame him? He certainly didn't blame himself).

It wasn't until dinner was over that he drew Yuri aside and asked, as calmly as possible, "How was your studying today, wimp? Learn anything?"

Yuri gave him a look that clearly said he thought Wolfram was insane.

And then Yuri told him – he'd been with Gwendal all day, trying to curb their usual arguing by – of all things – having Gwendal teach him to knit. With a small, proud smile, Yuri asked him if he'd like to see the bunny he'd made. Apparently it was supposed to have been a bear and looked more like a dog, because Yuri had messed up on the ears, and, upon deciding it should be a bunny and not a bear with those long ears, given it a tail (that was far too long and not nearly fluffy enough to belong to said bunny)-

Wolfram stopped listening.

Instead, he threw a book at Yuri's head.

Thankfully for them all (it wouldn't do to have a Demon King knocked flat by his own fiancé; nor would it do Yuri any good to be knocked flat – at least, according to Yuri; Wolfram thought it might do him some good, knock some sense into that empty skull of his), Yuri ducked. Much more unfortunately, Günter didn't – but as he gazed dazedly up at them from his position sprawled on the floor, he proclaimed himself 'proud to take a book for the King' before passing out.

Wolfram left Yuri to clean Günter up. While he felt a bit bad, part of him dismissed the whole thing as only fitting – Günter should've been teaching Yuri that day, not letting him go off and knit with Gwendal. If he'd done his job, none of this would've happened.

When he passed Gwendal in the hall, Wolfram threw a book at his head too, just for good measure.


Mission, Day Three

Perhaps he was going about this the wrong way. Seducing Yuri during the day obviously wasn't working; perhaps a nighttime attempt would have more success. They would be alone then, which was a major plus, and Yuri would definitely have to be there – it was Yuri's room Wolfram always snuck into.

Because it would be just so hard for his fiancé to sneak into his room. Ungrateful, passionless swine.

If Yuri ever wasn't there in his room at night, well... That didn't bear thinking about. Wolfram didn't know what he would do if that ever happened.

He suspected it would involve knives, butter, some of Anissina's more dangerous and crazy machines, and a whole lot of traumatized, apologetic begging on Yuri's part, but he couldn't be sure.

Not that that would ever happen, of course. Really, Wolfram knew he was in no danger of losing Yuri to anyone. Who would want such a loathsome, unfaithful little brat?

Yet, even thinking that, here he still was.

So he spent the whole day readying himself; bathing, thoroughly washing and meticulously drying his hair, cutting his nails and just generally pampering himself. And he was so sore – the hot water did wonders.

Another reason, that was, to switch to a nighttime seduction – too many more all-day work-out sessions in the intense heat, and, as great a shape as he was in, he would pass out (if the heat didn't get him, the exhaustion would). Which would positively shatter the illusion of a perfect, irresistible form he was trying desperately to maintain...

And to be honest, he no longer felt entirely comfortable, entirely safe, falling unconscious in the 'friendly' arms of his men...

If anyone noticed how he spent his day, no one mentioned it to him. Perhaps, he thought, they all (understandably) feared receiving a tongue-lashing or a book to the head.

(In reality, most didn't notice his sudden and uncharacteristic preoccupation with his appearance, and of those who did, only Günter thought anything of it. He debated, briefly, about mentioning his concern to Wolfram, but he at least did fear both a tongue-lashing and a book to the head; so he decided against it. A mistake, as it were, but really just one in a series of many since this Mission had begun.)

So Wolfram waited until Yuri was asleep (he still hadn't gotten Yuri to stop trying to kick him out of his bed whenever he appeared in it, and the last thing he wanted or needed was to start their night with a fight; even a relatively minor one), then crept inside the room. It was dark, darker than he'd expected even though he'd done this so many times before, and he nearly tripped on his way in. Not a good omen.

But Wolfram was determined, dammit. No backing out or losing confidence now. Not for him.

So he slipped onto the bed, maneuvered quickly under the covers. Yuri was hogging them all, as usual. But he couldn't afford to be distracted by that just now...

Instead, he slithered closer, the bed dipping under his weight, and Yuri's sleeping form might roll towards him if he wasn't careful-

Finally, he was settled in, and somehow Yuri was still sleeping – the wimp could sleep through anything. Which was both good and horrendously bad, when it came to Wolfram's big plan, but wimps were only as they were made, and he couldn't ask (wouldn't ask?) for Yuri to be any other way.

He reached out a hand to gently caress Yuri's cheek, and his fingers were trembling so violently that it was a minute before Wolfram realized that Yuri's nose was scrunched up, an obvious expression of distaste. Wolfram frowned – stupid Yuri, doesn't know what's good for him – and leaned closer, leaned over Yuri, intending to brush those drawn lips with a kiss that would hopefully remind him of how lucky he was to have Wolfram as his fiancé-

When Yuri sneezed. In his face.

And he kept sneezing. He woke himself up sneezing, while Wolfram, startled and disgusted, had fallen backwards off the bed, taking the covers with him. He was struggling out from between the abruptly tangled blankets when Yuri, nose quickly reddening and an absolutely annoyed look on his face, shot him what was, for Yuri, a very cold glare.

"Did you bring roses in here?" Yuri sneezed again, twice, before he got the sentence fully out – then had the audacity to glare reproachfully at Wolfram, as though this was all his fault. As though he was the one with snot all over his face.

"Of course I didn't, you idiot," he shot back. "Do you see any roses in this room?" He waved his free hand to indicate the room at large; his other was still occupied with wiping his face clean using Yuri's discarded shirt. It was Yuri's snot all over him, after all, and why couldn't the Demon King learn to pick up after himself anyway?

"I did," he added when Yuri had remained silent but for a few more hardy sneezes, "bathe in Mother's best rose-scented bathwater however, and I sprinkled on some of her most expensive rose cologne, as well. Roses are the flower of love and passion, after all." All said with a glare at Yuri, because he knew damn well that roses were only of such an importance on his world, and he bet Yuri wouldn't even notice that he'd bothered to learn one of that backwater world's stupid customs...

Sure enough, when Yuri answered him, it wasn't to comment on his knowledge of earth and all its strange ways.

"Oh no! Ah man, I'm allergic to roses. Now I have to bathe and get this stupid stuff off me - hey!" He leveled a very knowing look at Wolfram, who found himself blushing just on principle. "What were you doing so close to me, anyway? I told you to – to–" The rest of his words were followed by a series of sneezes so intense, he was literally moved back on the bed by a few inches.

And that was when Wolfram decided he'd had enough.

He grabbed Yuri by the arm and, ignoring his weak protests, hauled him off the bed and out of the room, taking the long, familiar corridor that followed at as brisk a pace as he could set, with such an unwilling partner to drag along. Really, you'd think he was dragging Yuri off to be one of Anissina's guinea pigs...

Which, after this ridiculousness, didn't actually sound like such a bad idea, as punishments went.

They were finally there, at the huge bath Yuri so dearly loved, and before Yuri could protest (or even react at all)-

Wolfram pushed him in. Clothes and all.

He came up spluttering, half-incoherent with surprise and irritation. But Wolfram ignored him. Instead, he lowered himself into the water, not bothering to undress first – after all, his clothes needed cleansing if Yuri was to stop sneezing tonight, and anyway, he hadn't yet the confidence to parade naked in front of his fiancé...

Who was looking at him funny, and after a moment, Wolfram realized why.

His sleeping gown, so light and airy and comfortable at night, was not meant to be worn in water. The cloth became rather transparent. And, even worse than that (if that were possible), it was floating up, lying practically on the surface of the water.

He'd been so distracted (ironically enough, by thoughts of his own modesty) that he hadn't even noticed; but Yuri had. And though Wolfram expected Yuri to tease him, even as he struggled to drag the gown under the water Yuri remained starkly quiet – but for a strange wheezing sound he'd never heard Yuri make before, that was more embarrassing than almost anything about this situation.

Through a haze of shattered nerves, Wolfram thought, so that's how to shut him up? But even inside his own head, the joke failed to amuse him.

Finally he got the gown under a semblance of control, and he tried to hide his blush by fiddling nervously with the soap. He expected Yuri to move now, to do something, to begin this stupid, ridiculous process of cleaning off the scent he'd researched so carefully just the night before-

But when he looked up, Yuri was still looking at him. No – staring. With a stupid, slightly open-mouth look on his face. He appeared to be nothing more than a really stupid fish. A very wet, raggedy one.

Wolfram rolled his eyes, and quickly made his way over to Yuri's side, wading swiftly through the water. Yuri's eyes followed him, but his mouth stayed silent; his voice appeared absolutely gone until Wolfram reached out a hand to offer him the soap-

"Don't touch me!"

The cry, though obviously not meant as an insult (that was something in Yuri's defense; he very rarely insulted anyone), lanced through Wolfram. He wasn't even sure quite why it hurt, but he knew that it did, oh it did...

It must've shown on his face. But Yuri, though he looked obviously unhappy upon realizing what he'd done, couldn't seem to do more than make a few upset, apologetic noises-

And it wasn't enough. It really just wasn't. Because Wolfram was the one always giving, always trying, always forcing Yuri to open his stupid wimp eyes and see him-

And then, suddenly, he was doing something he swore he would never do, not for anyone or anything.

He was telling Yuri. Telling him everything.

In his own, unique, Wolfram way, of course.

"You wimp! You faithless, spineless, inconsiderate jerk! I spent the past three days trying to get you to see me, and this is what I get? You don't want me to touch you? I'm your fiancé!"

He paused to gasp for air, and Yuri somehow found his voice, found himself hastily replying, "c'mon, Wolf, calm down. Why do you take this engagement thing so seriously? It just-"

"Because I love you, you stupid jerk!"

Yuri froze. And Wolfram was left standing there in the water, still as a stone, mouth agape just the tiniest bit.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to be feeling – this. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he wasn't supposed to feel exposed like this when he'd said these words a million times before (but not like this; never quite like this)... it wasn't supposed to hurt, dammit.

But it did.

He wrenched around; it felt safer, somehow, showing Yuri his back. Safe enough that, since he was already doomed, already damned, he could say the rest of what he needed to say.

"You never take this seriously," he muttered petulantly. "It's always an annoyance to you, silly Wolfram with his marriage ideas. But you are my fiancé, Yuri, and I – I've accepted that. I've made my peace with it. I've-" even grown to like it a bit "-been very tolerant of your flirting and noncommittal attitude up 'til now, despite my... feelings."

Any amusement Wolfram could feel emanating off of Yuri when he'd called himself 'tolerant' had dissipated, but Wolfram felt goaded by it anyway – goaded into speaking the rest of his thoughts aloud, goaded into shoving into Yuri's face all the things he'd never intended to reveal... the things he hadn't even been really aware he was holding inside him.

Is that making him vulnerable, too, showing him these things? Or will he laugh after this is said and done – laugh, and call me a fool?

But no... Yuri might not approve, but even Wolfram knew he wouldn't judge. It just wasn't within him.

And despite his embarrassment and shame, Wolfram was suddenly glad their positions weren't reversed, because he knew, in Yuri's position-

He would've laughed. Probably a lot.

"I know you don't... for you, this is just a strange custom from a strange place, and I know you – I bet you think, when the Great Demon Kingdom is finally settled, you can just go home, marry some pretty girl; and this'll all just be like some fantastic dream of yours."

Though Wolfram couldn't see it, Yuri's dark eyes had gone very wide - but now they narrowed; it was a look so intense, it really should have signified anger, some great, towering rage. But Yuri just gave one desolate sneeze, and still said nothing.

"But this isn't a dream to me, wimp," Wolfram went on, adding the insult as more of a comfort (to them both; whether Yuri – or he himself – was willing to acknowledge it or not) than out of any real malice. "I don't get to go home; this is my home. And you will be my husband. If you really find the concept so revolting," and here, Wolfram found he couldn't quite breathe, "then for the love of the Great Demon Kingdom, Yuri..."

He turned back, met those dark eyes with a defiant gaze.

"...let me go."

Yuri stayed so silent for so long, Wolfram had the fleeting idea to try and drown him, just to see if he was still alive, or at the very least, awake – but he knew better than to expect a quick answer to this complicated thing he had just laid out...

Only it wasn't complicated, which actually made it complicated... Which was really stupid, in Wolfram's opinion, but then, so many things were.

Yuri licked his lips nervously, running one wet hand back through his soaked and tangled mop of dark hair – and to Wolfram's bemusement and annoyance, Yuri's hand got stuck there. He moved that last bit closer, helped untangle those long fingers from Yuri's wet hair, trying not to feel how close they were, how Yuri's skin seemed to get warmer and closer with every breath...

Somewhere along the way, he realized abruptly, inwardly wide-eyed from the shock, I was the one who got seduced.

"I thought..." Yuri began hesitantly, voice tearing Wolfram out of his thoughts and back into their current predicament. (Where he didn't want to be, because frankly, it was really annoying by then, all those serious Yuri-induced thoughts and stuff.) "I thought you... I thought you didn't want me to leave you. Your pride, or something like that."

As the full ramifications of Yuri's words sank in (he first wonders, can I really? Not should I – can I?), Wolfram could feel something inside him drop down into his feet. Could've been his heart – or his blood, or his lungs, or a deadly blood clot, for all he knew. But he tried to answer Yuri's question 'honestly' (while still lying by pretending everything was fine; an irony, that, and one he could sincerely appreciate), even while it silently killed him...

This was so stupid.

"Of course I don't want you to, fool," he muttered. "My honor demands that I marry you. But if you're truly... unhappy, with the arrangement, then I... I suppose I have to honor that."

Dammit, wimp, stop making me spell this out for you.

It was starting to get really cold, somehow; so cold, in fact, that Wolfram was amazed Yuri's sneezing was slowing down. It didn't seem quite right... none of this did.

And slowly but oh-so-surely, it was pissing him off.

"Wolfram," Yuri finally said, and Wolfram could smell the excuses coming, "it's not that I – well-"

"I've been flirting with you for three whole days without you even noticing, idiot," Wolfram snarled, voice 'glaring' in much the same way as his eyes, "so don't give me any lame justifications."

Yuri's black eyes flashed dangerously; instead of fearing or dreading the intensity in that gaze, Wolfram relished it.

Passion, after all, could be found in far more forms than just what lovers did between the sheets.

...not that he'd know anything about that, of course.

His fiancé was such a prude.

But before he could smile stupidly at the thought of Yuri, red-faced and furious with him, the gleam in Yuri's eyes took on a whole new glint - and for the first time ever, Wolfram couldn't read every single thought going on in that empty head of his.

So it was a total surprise when Yuri grabbed his arm and dragged him from the bath. Even more surprising was Yuri actually taking him into his bedroom.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

And here he'd thought Yuri's constant flirting was caused by fears of 'inadequacy'.


Mission, Day Three... Later (But Not Quite Late Enough To Be Day Four)

Yuri seemed pretty worn out; he just laid on the bed half-under the covers Wolfram had halfheartedly pulled over them both, eyes slowly glazing over and the stupidest, most annoyingly self-satisfied look on his face.

It infuriated Wolfram to no end. So he kissed him.

...there was a connection between why one caused the other, but he could no longer remember what it was.

The kissing invigorated Yuri a little, and once he was leaning up, hands twined through Wolfram's half-dry hair, Wolfram felt quite ready to push him (sort of gently) aside, so they could talk. Yuri made a small, annoyed sound – and the subsequent bout of blushing kept him quiet long enough for Wolfram to speak.

"If you wouldn't mind telling me, Yuri," Wolfram began hotly, "just what the hell was that?"

Yuri blinked up at him, then murmured, "Oh no, are we gonna have the 'talk' now? The one where you ask me where this is going? Because we're already engaged, so I don't know what else you could possibly want from me-"

"Not that 'talk', idiot." When Yuri opened his mouth again, Wolfram quickly blurted out, "Or the sex one, either! I think we've covered that..." And now, it was his turn to blush. Stupid Yuri, it was all his fault...

"Three days," Wolfram muttered, "I spend three days trying to seduce you, and what works? Giving you an allergic reaction." He looked over the boy sprawled in bed beside him, looked at the messy dark hair and the laughing smile, and rolled his eyes. "Wimp."

Yuri shook his head from side to side, his hair sliding on the pillows and getting even more disheveled. "That wasn't it, Wolfram," he said quietly. "I just... you said you'd been flirting, when all I could remember of these last few days was you yelling at me, and I thought... well, if I'd known you'd been flirting, I probably would've, y'know... flirted back." He laughed, and though it could've been insulting, it simply struck Wolfram as being very, very warm.

"You just really, really suck at flirting, Wolf."

"Oh, like you'd be any better," he replied irritably – stupid Yuri, thinking he could be won over by a few pretty words, when his pride was at stake. Or thinking that hand sliding up his thigh was doing either of them any favors. Or like it would lead anywhere, when he was this pissed off. Or-


Mission, Day Three... Still

I may suck at flirting, but our Demon King is becoming really, really good at distracting me.

Yuri sneezed just as Wolfram was leaning in for another kiss, and it was another five minutes of cleaning his face and ranting incoherently before Wolfram allowed Yuri to come near him again.

The idiot.

"I thought you didn't like me," Wolfram finally told him, just as they were settling back in bed together. He felt Yuri shift uncomfortably beneath him, and quite kindly allowed Yuri a few minutes of silence in which to finish settling in to a good position. (But so help him, if Yuri didn't answer him soon-)

"I didn't, at first," Yuri admitted, and Wolfram had to restrain from biting his conveniently placed arm. "But then, you... I always thought, y'know, love is love, whoever you love. And you were so adamant about us marrying, I had to look at you, and..."

Wolfram waited, he waited patiently for what was, to him, a good long while (three minutes, tops), but Yuri still didn't say anything. And when he chanced a glance at the face of the boy holding him, Yuri's eyes were quickly glazing over, his eyelids were half-closed...

"Yuri!" When the heated whisper didn't rouse him, Wolfram poked him in the side; hard. "Yuri!"

Yuri's mouth opened, and finally, finally, Wolfram was going to hear the admiring words of love he so (not-so-secretly, if you knew him) longed to hear-

"How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? Let's find out. One... two... three. Crunch! Three..."

Wolfram stared, open-mouthed. Then, when a teasing smile began to pull at Yuri's lips (he's asleep my ass), Wolfram yanked the pillow from beneath Yuri's head-

And soundly began to beat him with it.

He wasn't sure what this 'Tootsie' stuff was all about, but it sounded dirty.

His conviction that it was, in fact, something nasty was only compounded when, after he yelled "Are you saying I've got a Tootsie Pop? Or that you do?" made Yuri laugh so hard Wolfram was forced to stop wildly beating him, for fear that he would choke.

Not that that wouldn't have been rightfully earned, but now that Wolfram had Yuri, he wasn't going to let him go. Even if he was a wimp and an idiot and hopeless besides.

That, after all, was no surprise.


Mission, Day Four

As it turned out, the mission was a brilliant success – but it was not without its casualties.

For a whole two months, Günter flinched whenever Wolfram had a book in his hand.

And during that time, Conrad spent so much time smiling knowingly at them, that both Yuri's and Wolfram's (remaining) modesty went down the drain when Yuri broke under the pressure of one pair of sparkling blue eyes, and blurted out their sexual activities at the dinner table one bright, unforgettable evening. Thankfully for all involved, Wolfram managed, amid much catcalling and cheers, to drag Yuri from the room before too many details could be given. (Poor Günter, who collapsed upon hearing Yuri's outburst, never did seem to recover from that evening, though.)

But the very first casualty was discovered on that fourth day. Yuri, having slept pressed up against Wolfram the whole night, awoke itching from head to toe – and covered in a dark red, inflamed rash. Apparently, the roses had not been washed off completely.

And explaining to Günter how Yuri had come down with such a rash... as it turned out, Wolfram was getting good at causing Günter to faint. It was really such a shame that Yuri was still absolutely no good at catching him when he did.

-o-o-THE END-o-o-