Together they'll live, love and fall. Fifty sentences regarding the relationship between the royal couple. Yuuram.
a/n: written for the livejournal comm 1fandom, where one has to write fifty sentences using a theme set for a fandom of their choice. This was seriously the hardest writing challenge I've done (and I won Nanowrimo this year) so yeah. I acknowledge some ooc-ness here 'cause in some of the sentences I picture Yuuri and Wolfram older as an already established couple. They're still the same guys we love though.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou.
The heat of his touch, the white of his face and the scent of his sweat mixed with some unplaceable exotic fruit only served to heighten Yuuri's lust.
Wolfram hadn't expected Yuuri to become the centre of everything he lived and fought for, but the wimpy Maou had crawled into his heart.
Gunter had fainted before Yuuri had a chance to explain about the glue, and how it had not played any role whatsoever in the royal couple's bedroom activities.
The last time Yuuri had greeted Wolfram with a hug after returning from Earth, the latter pulled back and complained that his uniform was now wet.
Every girl in Shin Makoku knew the Maou's face, but Wolfram still accused Yuuri of lechery whenever one would so much as wave to him.
When Wolfram broke down, Yuuri was there beside him.
The Maou's arms felt like home.
"I wish there was some other way to do this," muttered Yuuri, squeezing the water out of his clothes for the hundredth time and ignoring a certain smirking blond, "I'm not a fish."
Wolfram heard himself telling Yuuri to leave as though from a distance; he could not quite connect the painful churn of emotions that flooded his head to what was spilling out of his mouth.
The acceptance of his feelings only served to increase Wolfram's ego tenfold.
Wolfram blushed when the Maou brought justice, because the water snakes were just so horrendously tasteless.
Sometimes he woke during the night, huddled close in a sleepy embrace and wondered dimly when the line between life and a dream had become so fine.
Yuuri suggested Wolfram see a specialist for his 'sleep-fighting' - Wolfram suggested the Maou was becoming 'wimpier.'
Enough was enough, thought Wolfram, and he pressed his lips against a surprised and unsuspecting Yuuri's firmly.
Yuuri, caught in the unfortunate position of being between Wolfram and a bucket during their most recent ship voyage, didn't think he would ever forgive Wolfram for what happened next despite any of his morals and preachings.
The royal couple's relationship had become something of a metaphor for politics in Shin Makoku - there were ultimatums, fierce negotiations and when all else failed, wars.
Teaching a little girl etiquette was hard, aknowledged Wolfram, but it didn't help that Greta's other father was goofily sticking chopsticks in his mouth and imitating a walrus behind them.
Regardless of what anyone else said, Wolfram knew he didn't demand "too much" and that the castle servants were all just incompetent.
Never before had somebody invoked so much compassion on Wolfram's part.
Of all his eighty years life experience, the hardest times were when he thought his love was unrequited.
Anissina's most popular novel was actually a heavily mutilated portrayal of the royal couple's turbulent relationship, but nobody else made the connection.
He couldn't stand being far from Yuuri.
The month of May marked the anniversary of Yuuri's coronation, celebrated traditionally with a royal wedding (but nobody told him that beforehand).
"They assume I bottom, because you're the king," said Wolfram, poking his husband in the side, "but you're hardly any better built than I am, wimp."
He wrenched him away from the chattering girls with a look on his face that suggested a particularly painful punishment was in order.
Yuuri brought hope to a nation with none.
The first time his mother had left her perfumed shampoo in the royal bathroom, a royal misunderstanding had caused him to become engaged - the second time, there had simply been bath sex.
Wolfram wasn't much better at using pastels than paint, but it did smell a lot less unpleasant.
The last time Wolfram had painted a portrait of Yuuri, the king hadn't whined once - but Wolfram supposed this was more to do with the wimp being gagged and tied than an act of actual appreciation.
In the months that Wolfram had thought Yuuri would never come back, he'd never felt so alone.
Yuuri followed his chosen path and never needed to look back.
"We need a fire - get wood!" urged Yuuri, nodding at Wolfram who was clearly wondering if the King was going senile.
He'd only ever been the ex-Maou's third son - a boy of fortunate looks and background but very little additional value; love - no, Yuuri - had made him somebody.
Yet here was somebody who saw past the pretty face and the pure bloodline and he'd be lying if he denied it disconcerted him.
Yuuri shivered in fearful anticipation for when Wolfram returned to the bath and discovered the King had been inconveniently transported to Earth, especially considering what his husband had gone to get.
"He's a hero in the eyes of the nation," said Wolfram proudly, "but I know he's really just a wimp."
"Idon'tknowwhattodo," uttered Yuuri in one short breath; Wolfram smiled in response and Yuuri had suddenly never felt so afraid.
It didn't really matter that they were both male, thought Yuuri, because something that felt this incredible could not be wrong.
Yuuri had tried to pretend he had past experience when it came to kissing, but couldn't fool Wolfram, who almost immediately declared himself Yuuri's teacher.
Yuuri's fingers wandered curiously across Wolfram's bare chest.
"Ah, well things are different here in Shin Makoku," said Conrad, understanding the meaning of Yuuri's splutter exactly, "mazoku men are able to bear children - did you not gather that much from your studies?"
Wolfram's skin was so smooth Yuuri actually found himself asking if the blond used moisturiser, to which he was hit over the head in reply and never given a proper answer.
It took Yuuri a couple of years to realise that - as King of Shin Makoku - he had more authority over Wolfram's troops than Wolfram did and could order them to promptly disappear whenever he wanted a private make out session with his husband.
Wolfram would make damn sure Yuuri never strayed, even if it meant his maryoku was nearly always running low.
Wolfram always got what he wanted and Yuuri's love was no exception.
"In preparation for your forthcoming wedding, your Majesty, I've prepared a detailed overview of all the laws we set by marriage in Shin Makoku," said Gunter, whose nose had not stopped bleeding since entering the king's office; Yuuri scanned briefly at the first page of what looked to be a hundred page manuscript - "Wolfram has the right to castrate me in the event of my infidelity?!"
Green were his eyes, blue was his uniform and red was the colour of his face and the subsequent fire summoned after Wolfram caught Yuuri "flirting" with an heiress.
Visiting Earth was always a tiring experience for Yuuri, between trying to separate his husband and his mother at all costs and explaining to the former how every electrical appliance in the kitchen worked.
Yuuri spent several sleepless nights trying to figure out where he'd stay after his sixteenth birthday, not realising he'd already made that decision a long time ago.
He was in a stormy mood when he set the castle on fire.