Disclaimer: I don't own KKM. What you read here is purely a figment of my overactive imagination and for entertainment only. No money is made out of this.

Warning: Slash, yaoi, smut, language. Mature audience only. Extreme angst followed by extreme fluff. The nearly cringe-worthy sort. Dash of pr0n to go with.


That was all he knew. He was on fire. The fabric of his clothing felt far too coarse. It chafed against his fevered, impossibly sensitive skin.

Breaths of air came to him in desperate gasps and as he exhaled, he could feel the warmed air brushing against his flushed lips.

He heard a soft whimper, and it never registered that the sound came from him. He curled up on his side, arms clutched around himself defensively.

No more, please.

Yuuri's eyes were wide with disbelief. He eyed the room's other occupants with an emotion akin to horror.

"You're saying… Wolf…"

The corner of Gwendal's eyebrow twitched. The worry lines permanently etched into his face seemed ever prominent now and the Chief of State looked like he wanted nothing more than to be doing anything but having this conversation right now. Günter looked pale, clasping his hands together and looking, for the first time since Yuuri had known him, like he had absolutely nothing to say. Murata stood by the corner, eyes obscured by the reflective tint of his glasses. Even Conrad looked faintly distressed.

Yuuri's eyes came a full circle and landed finally on the cause of their trouble, the pink-haired inventor. Anissina looked completely unperturbed by the discussion they were having.

"There's absolutely nothing to worry about!" she announced loudly, much to the chagrin of the rest of the room's occupants.

Gwendal's reply was scathing. "Wolfram is lying in the room down the corridor, burning from the inside because of another one of your stupid inventions and you tell me this is no cause for concern?!"

Unfazed, Anissina replied without a single morsel of regret in her tone. "He requested my assistance. It was unforeseen that he consumed the wrong potion. Although I assure you, the effects of this potion are completely reversible."

Yuuri clung on to that bit of information the inventor just revealed. "What do we need to do?"

He'd seen his blond friend lying on the bed in the room not too far away from the one they currently occupied. Wolfram had been reduced to soft whimpers and pained moans after consuming one of Anissina's potions by mistake. Yuuri had no idea why Wolfram would voluntarily consume any of Anissina's potions, but he didn't allow himself to dwell too long on that question. It was far more important to get Wolfram cured of this strange affliction. If he had heard correctly, left untreated, Wolfram would continue to endure unbearable heat until his body gave out.

Anissina paused.

"He needs to have sex."

The effect of this statement was instantaneous. A deathly silence descended upon them. Yuuri wasn't even sure he was breathing. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Gwendal's forehead scrunched up into one big wrinkle. When he spoke again, it sounded like he'd just tasted something foul. "You're saying… that you want my little brother to have sex."

Anissina huffed with impatience. "Well, he can do that or let the heat consume him. It won't physically burn his body, but the heat has other lasting effects. And none of them will be too pleasant for him in the long run."

"Isn't there any other option?" That was Conrad. There was a noticeable frown on his features.

Yuuri would have voiced that thought on his own, but after hearing Anissina's latest information, he didn't trust himself to speak.

"My potions are highly complex and sophisticated inventions that are designed to effectively achieve all intended aims. That the effects are reversible is already a huge undertaking. To have more than one method of reversing the effects would render my inventions useless…"

Gwendal cut Anissina off. "My little brother can't have sex!"

Yuuri winced.

"Lord von Bielefeld is well over the age of a legal adult in Shin Makoku—" Günter added out of habit.

"That's not the point!" Gwendal growled.

"Lord von Voltaire, at this rate, I don't think we have a choice." Murata said, unperturbed, ever the voice of reason.

At this point, Yuuri suddenly noticed all of the eyes in the room on him. He felt an uneasy stirring in the pit of his stomach.

"Why are all of you looking at me like that?" he asked shakily, with a growing sense of foreboding.

Gwendal's eyebrow twitched.

Murata smirked. "Well, Shibuya. Lord von Bielefeld is your fiancé."

Yuuri felt the bottom of his world give way. "You can't mean—"

"Did you not hear the woman for yourself?" Gwendal snapped while Anissina bristled at being referred to as 'the woman'.

"But there's got to be another way!"

Gwendal's eyes grew cold. He took two steps forward in Yuuri's direction, drawing himself to his full height, towering over Yuuri, undoubtedly hoping to intimidate the young demon king into submission.

"Wolfram is your fiancé. If anyone else…" Gwendal looked pained to say the next bit, "does the deed, it would be an extreme insult to the demon king and the country as a whole. And if you don't, then Wolfram will continue to suffer from the effects of the god dammed potion."

Gwendal hardly ever swore. The fact that he was swearing now shocked Yuuri into silence.

Conrad was still frowning, looking more like Gwendal than he ever did. "Gwendal, we can't force His Majesty to do something he does not wish to. I am sure Wolfram would not wish for that either."

Gwendal's eyes snapped towards Conrad's figure. "What are you suggesting?"

Murata was the one who answered. "If Shibuya refuses to sleep with Lord von Bielefeld to cure him, perhaps someone else will. All Shibuya has to do is end the engagement."

There was a hushed silence. Yuuri felt all eyes on him again.

Yuuri had always expected that he would have to end his engagement with Wolfram in the future. But for some inexplicable reason he had never been able to carry through. Initially he'd told himself that he was simply too busy to bother with such a matter of trifling importance, what with the whole incident of the four boxes, and later Small Shimaron and Janus. As time grew on, he promised that he would find time eventually to sit his blond friend down to explain things to him. He would make sure his friend understood that Yuuri held purely platonic feelings for him and would be unable to reciprocate the romantic feelings everyone could see the third son of the ex-Maou held for his king. Yuuri would find the opportune moment to make sure that Wolfram understood that just because Yuuri didn't love him the way the blond wanted him to, it didn't mean Yuuri cared for Wolfram any less.

But now…

Now he could end the engagement, yes. But he was going to end the engagement so that someone else could have sex with his blond friend. To save Wolfram's life. Because Yuuri couldn't stomach the idea of having sex with wolfram himself.

Yuuri swallowed. He wondered why it was so difficult to say what he had to say next. "If I…" he paused, the words felt impossibly heavy on his tongue. "If I end the engagement, who will…?"

The question hung in the air. Murata was the one who responded again, although Yuuri couldn't fathom what the look in his eyes meant. "Does it matter, Shibuya?"

Yuuri turned to stare at the floor. It shouldn't matter. He knew it shouldn't. But somehow it did. It bothered him. This was Wolfram they were talking about. And here they were, discussing Wolfram's sex life like it was some commodity to be traded. He couldn't bring himself to answer.

"I suppose the fact that it's Wolfram means half the room's occupants already don't fit the criteria," Murata continued. His tone was blank, without inflection. "Gwendal and Conrad for obvious reasons." Gwendal looked like he'd swallowed a cow and even Conrad had an uneasy look on his face. "Anissina because Wolfram's well, Wolfram." It was common knowledge now which team Wolfram batted for. "Günter…" The lavender-haired man paled considerably at having his name even be on the list for consideration. Murata smirked. "I suppose not."

"Which leaves you and me," Murata said, sounding far too pleased for Yuuri's liking. "And since you expressly stated your stand, I believe I'm the only one left."

Yuuri let out a distressed groan. "We shouldn't be doing this. Wolfram's not some… We're discussing this as though it's nothing. As though no one wants him. This is Wolfram! It's his future and his happiness! Sex should be something done out of love. He should have the right to choose the person he wants…"

But Wolfram had chosen. He'd chosen Yuuri. Yuuri fell silent again when he realized what he had just said.

Murata pushed back his glasses. "I can assure you that Wolfram is not undesirable. In fact, I believe Gwendal and Conrad would agree with me when I say that half of his own personal guard would do anything for a chance like this." Gwendal looked murderous at the mere idea of common soldiers touching his little brother. "And you're perfectly right. Wolfram should be able to make his choice. And we all know who his choice would be." He looked pointedly at Yuuri.

Yuuri's cheeks flamed.

"I don't…" he began hesitantly.

"Oh no one's expecting you to do anything, Shibuya," Murata announced cheerfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "In fact, if you break the engagement, I'm more than willing to stand in. Lord von Bielefeld is quite attractive."

Yuuri let out a very audible gasp. The rest of the room's occupants reacted visibly too. Gwendal looked ready to pull Murata apart limb from limb. Conrad was frowning again. Günter's eyes were wider and rounder than Yuuri had ever seen. Only Anissina looked faintly amused. As though she had no part to play in these events.

Yuuri had always thought that Wolfram was uncannily beautiful for a boy. Pretty would be a better word. The way his bright emerald eyes shone and lit up whenever he was particularly excited, the way his golden locks framed his pale face was undeniably attractive. Yuuri remembered the first thought that ran through his mind when he saw Wolfram. Pretty boy. It hadn't changed. But to hear it from his earthen friend now, knowing fully well what Murata intended to do on this knowledge sent a spike of something shooting through his veins.

"No!" he shouted. He didn't realize how loud it sounded till he found everyone staring at him yet again. Whatever feelings which possessed him to shout fled him and he stuttered, "I mean… I… let's not rush into this. There has to be another way."

It wasn't the solution. It wasn't even a good enough explanation. But at the point, it was all Yuuri could do to stop the confusing swirl of emotions that had steadily worked itself into a whirlpool since he found out about his blond friend's predicament.

"There has to be another way." Yuuri repeated. Although he didn't know who he was trying to convince. The others or himself.

Wolfram's fever had not decreased. Instead, it had spiked throughout the day. As Yuuri changed the wet cloth against his forehead for the hundredth time, he was forced to see that his blond friend could not wait any longer.

The ex-prince whimpered. The sound made Yuuri's heart clench painfully. A thin layer of perspiration coated the demon boy's skin. Pink splotches coloured Wolfram's cheeks and Yuuri could hear his friend's labored breathing through flushed red lips. The pink nightie the blond wore had been replaced with a white one Anissina had made. It was of a translucent quality and the material was supposed to lighten the unbearable friction against Wolfram's skin as the young demon shifted restlessly on the bed in his potion-induced stupor.

The material couldn't hide the body it clothed. Yuuri's eyes swept over his blond friend's figure. It looked almost lewd. The translucent fabric hung off Wolfram's shoulders, loosely covering his chest and ended just barely past pale white thighs. It accentuated the blond's curves; the small waist and pert arse. Sitting there and watching Wolfram like this, Yuuri could have been fooled into thinking this was a girl he was keeping watch over.

But Wolfram most definitely wasn't a girl.

Yuuri knew he shouldn't be hesitating. He knew the consequences. Gwendal was still furious at him for sitting on it and not doing anything, making his little brother suffer. Conrad hadn't said anything. But he didn't need to. Yuuri knew how much he cared for Wolfram. It couldn't be easy for Conrad to see his younger brother suffering either. He knew for certain that he couldn't stomach the idea of having sex with another man. He liked girls, dammit! But the idea of breaking the engagement… of giving Murata free reign to do what Yuuri himself wouldn't do to save Wolfram… and the fact that he would have to explain all that to Wolfram after the boy recovered… There was no way Yuuri could face Wolfram after that kind of betrayal.

A barely audible whisper reached his ears. Yuuri looked down in surprise to find Wolfram clutching at sheets, in obvious discomfort. The second time Wolfram said something, Yuuri caught it.


It frightened Yuuri that at a time like this, Wolfram was still thinking of him. He had always known that Wolfram cared about him. Occasionally, at the oddest moments, Wolfram would even use the dreaded 'L' word in reference to their relationship. But Yuuri refused to give it any thought. It wasn't normal. Love between two boys… physical intimacy… it went against everything Yuuri knew and believed in. But here was Wolfram, caught in some place suffering from delirium, and the only thing that spilled from his lips was one word. Yuuri's name. Over and over again like a mantra.

"Yuuri." It came out as a pained moan this time.

Yuuri cursed inwardly. His healing magic had had no effect on Wolfram. Neither had Gisela's. They were running out of time.

As if on cue, the door to the Royal Chambers opened noiselessly and the Great Sage stepped in. He walked towards where Yuuri was sitting on the bed.

"Anissina and Gisela sent me," he said by way of explanation. Even though Yuuri didn't need one. He knew full well why Murata was there. "It's been almost eight hours since Lord von Bielefeld took the potion. Gisela says any longer and there could be lasting effects on his mental capacity."

Yuuri had heard this before. But he clenched his fists nonetheless.

"This isn't supposed to happen," he said finally, wiping away a bead of perspiration that trickled down the side of Wolfram's flushed cheek.

"No it isn't," Murata agreed. "But if we don't do anything…"

Yuuri clenched his fists harder. "Why does it feel like you're too willing to do this?" he bit out angrily.

Murata didn't rise to the bait. The Great Sage seldom ever lost his temper. And definitely not now when it was obvious how distressed Yuuri was.

"Shibuya," the Great Sage asked seriously. The usual teasing demeanor was completely gone. "Do you want to do this yourself?"

"No!" Yuuri replied instinctively.

Murata raised an eyebrow, but did not comment.

"I mean…" Yuuri was lost. "I'm not gay. I can't do it."

"You can't," the Great Sage repeated, sounding bemused. "Has it escaped your notice that I am male as well? Does gender really matter that much to you, Shibuya?"

"Yes!" Yuuri snapped, frustrated. "Yes it matters! This… this isn't normal!"

Murata stared back at him in the eye. Then he seemed to make up his mind. Yuuri watched Murata unbutton the top button of his black uniform and climb atop the bed.

Yuuri backed away. "What… what are you doing?"

"What you're too afraid to do yourself," the Great Sage replied, eyes flashing with a strange light in them. There was no love lost in the manner he spoke to the demon king then. "Leave Shibuya, even I'm tired of your excuses."

Then, almost as an afterthought, he cast a look back at Yuuri. "Unless you'd rather stay… to watch."

Yuuri flinched. But even as Murata turned his attention back to Wolfram, Yuuri couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him. He saw Murata stroke Wolfram's cheek and saw the double black lean forward to press a gentle kiss to Wolfram's fevered lips. Yuuri hadn't even realized that he had taken a step forward, fists clenched. All he could feel was a strong, nameless emotion, so overpowering, so overwhelming, as he continued to watch. Murata's hand slipped past the flimsy fabric and caressed Wolfram's creamy thigh. Yuuri's chest constricted.

And then he heard it. So soft. But unmistakably Wolfram.


Before he had a chance to think, Yuuri was flying across the space between them, knocking Murata out of the way. He embraced the blond in his arms. "Don't," Yuuri growled. "Don't touch him."

Murata sat up from where he landed on the ground and straightened his askew glasses. "Shibuya?" he asked wonderingly.

Yuuri still had Wolfram in his arms. "I can't give him up. I don't want to. He's delirious and he's Wolfram and he's so sick but he's still calling my name!" The demon king's tone was frantic. "I can't give him to you. He loves me." Yuuri's voice was pained. Saying it out loud made it seem so terribly real. But deep down inside, he knew it was true. "I can't betray him like that."

Murata looked up at Yuuri. "What does it matter if he loves you? If he's not cured, he's going to die sooner or later."

There was a long pause.

"Then I'll do it."

Murata stood up. "Shibuya, think about what you're saying. Think about why you're doing it." There was a steely look in the Great Sage's eyes.

But Yuuri had made his decision. "I know what I'm doing."

For a moment, they stared at each other.

Then Murata smiled. It was a Ken Murata smile. A smile that Yuuri was familiar with. "Well, it's about time."

The door clicked shut. Yuuri had laid Wolfram back on the bed. The blond's face was completely flushed. His blond locks were matted against his cheeks, wet with perspiration. Yuuri brushed them back gently.

"Wolf," he whispered, trying to rouse the other boy. "Wolf, wake up."

He shook the other boy gently.

"Yuuri?" Wolfram's voice was weak, but he had at least opened his eyes.

"Yes," Yuuri answered. "It's me." He reached out and touched Wolfram's cheek.

Wolfram whimpered in response to the touch. "Yuuri," Wolfram breathed. His voice was still unsteady, and Yuuri had no idea of how conscious the blond really was. "It's burning. Your hand… it's cool."

Yuuri steeled his resolve. "Do you trust me, Wolf?"

Bright emerald eyes stared back at him. And though the effects of the potion meant that those green orbs were slightly dilated, Yuuri still saw them for what they represented. Unwavering trust. How could he ever have been so blind to it?

Not giving himself a chance to hesitate any further, Yuuri leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Wolfram's. He felt the bump of soft, yielding lips beneath his own. The blonde moaned faintly under the kiss, his hands coming up to wrap around Yuuri's neck and twine through his hair.

There was a soft gasp. Yuuri didn't know who it belonged to, but he felt Wolfram's lips part and he responded. It was as though something inside Yuuri snapped. He kissed back with the fervor and passion of a drowning man. In his mind's eye he could still see Murata kissing Wolfram. And somewhere deep inside screamed mine. Yuuri let one hand reach up to tangle in Wolfram's incredibly soft blond hair, holding the other boy's head as he ran his tongue across Wolfram's lower lip experimentally.

Wolfram moaned exquisitely.

Yuuri felt his control break. He let his free hand slip under the translucent clothing Wolfram wore, caressing the expanse of smooth, pale thigh beneath, thrusting his hips forward as he straddled the blond.

"Yuuri, please."

The way Wolfram moaned made Yuuri's blood race. Wolfram said Yuuri's name as though he revered it. It was the most erotic sound Yuuri had heard. He grinded his crotch against Wolfram's, releasing a moan of his own against Wolfram's lips. Yuuri had no idea if Wolfram even knew what he was asking for. Probably not. But Yuuri felt Wolfram's heat seep through the other boy's skin, his fingers burning where they made contact. And he couldn't stop.

Fumbling with the waistband of his trousers, Yuuri finally found the buttons. But he was too far gone to maneuver the delicate things through button holes and settled instead for popping them off one by one, slipping the black fabric of his trousers past his narrow hips and releasing his straining erection.

It wasn't until he felt his hot throbbing flesh within his own hand that realization came crashing down on him. He was fucking hard. For Wolfram. Somewhere, the god of irony was laughing at him. So much for being straight.

The blond in question arched his back to press insistently up against Yuuri's hard torso, snaking one hand between their bodies, finding Yuuri's pulsing hardness. Yuuri groaned before he could stop himself. How could Wolfram even think about pleasuring Yuuri now?

Yuuri had expected this to be difficult. At first he hadn't even considered the option. But when he'd driven Murata from the room, he was forced to face what he was about to do and now… Now he was being swept off his feet and his mind was blown. It was all he could do not to come too early. That wouldn't help Wolfram at all.

Yuuri was kissing Wolfram again. It was hot and sinfully good and Yuuri couldn't breathe but he didn't care. Not really. He barely even made out the litany of whispers from Wolfram, pants between consecutive kisses of yuuripleasedosomethingpleasetouchyuuriyuuri.

This was what it felt like to lose his mind, Yuuri thought belatedly.

He pushed Wolfram further up the bed, eliciting a glorious sound from the blond. He wedged his knee between the blond legs, forcing them apart. "Wolf," he gasped as he felt delicate hands stroke his length. Yuuri felt himself leaking pre-cum all over and he bit his lip to suppress another groan when Wolfram fondled his sac.

Wolfram stared up at Yuuri with dark green eyes. Yuuri had never seen them this dark before. So dark they almost seemed to mirror his black. "Yuuri," he breathed, completely trusting. And Yuuri knew he'd never seen anyone so beautifully flushed before.

How could he ever have even contemplated giving this to Murata?

A flare of jealousy surged through him and drove Yuuri to crush his lips against Wolfram again. As the blond moaned (the sound sending a tendril of pleasure curling through Yuuri's spine and down to his groin), Yuuri took the opportunity to slip a pre-cum coated finger into the boy.

Wolfram hissed, his beautiful eyes falling shut as he tensed against the intrusion.

Yuuri trailed kisses down Wolfram's neck as apology. But even as he did so, he pushed another digit inside.

Wolfram was so tense and tight with just two fingers in him. Yuuri couldn't even imagine that he could fit. Wolfram had fallen silent. And his hands on Yuuri stilled. Anxious, Yuuri gripped the other boy's hand and pushed it up and above his head, holding it there. He pressed a tender kiss against Wolfram's forehead. "Breathe, Wolfram," he reminded the other boy.

The answering hitch of breath from Wolfram was shaky, but it was there. Yuuri waited a beat, hard and leaking and quite possibly going mad. "Wolf?" he asked finally. He nudged his groin forwards, removing his fingers as he aligned his erection against the cleft of Wolfram's arse.

"Please, Yuuri."

It was all the encouragement Yuuri needed. He pushed himself halfway inside the blond before he remembered to stop.

Wolfram let out a cry. When he looked up at Yuuri, there was unmistakable fear. Close to panic.

Yuuri felt bile rise up in his throat. "I'm sorrysorrysorry," the words spilled from his lips. Even through his desire, Yuuri's black eyes were wide with worry.

Then he heard it.

"Wimp," Wolfram gritted. His eyes were screwed shut, but he slowly opened them to stare at Yuuri. "Don't stop." It was then that Yuuri realized what the fear represented. "Don't you dare stop."

Yuuri nodded, relief flooding his veins. He pushed against the hard ring of muscle clamping around him as he spoke. "I'm almost there, Wolf. You have to relax for me." At first, nothing. Yuuri pressed against the impossibly tight orifice, unable to push forward. But then slowly, he felt Wolfram give in to him.

Yuuri groaned as he felt deliciously hard muscles envelop him. Overwhelming heat. He was completely sheathed inside the blond now.

Wolfram let out a small whimper.

Yuuri held on to him, starting to move as gently as he could. "It'll get better," Yuuri promised softly.

Wolfram nodded and Yuuri reached down and began to stroke Wolfram's cock gently. Yuuri was pleased to find that Wolf was still hard. Yuuri fisted him with an uneven rhythm, firmly until pressure built up and Wolfram arched up and moaned incoherently. Yuuri could catch his name in there somewhere. But the moans melded into an endless plea for release. Yuuri too was lost.

The demon king pounded into unimaginable heat, cock buried inside with each thrust. He rocked his hips forward in time to the movements on Wolfram's cock. Faster and harder and deeper.

And then he was coming. Long and hard. Yuuri's eyes fell shut of their own accord and white hot flashes appeared behind his eyelids as he emptied himself inside the blond beneath him. Wolfram himself came shortly after. In spurts, soiling the sheets and that flimsy translucent clothing and splattering cum on Yuuri's black uniform. But Yuuri found, as he collapsed bonelessly on top of Wolfram, that he really, really didn't mind.

The last thought he had before he gave in to the darkness was that it hadn't taken very long for him to come at all.

Yuuri put the last of that day's paperwork away. Vetted and signed. He sighed, rolling back his head and rubbing sore muscles where he could reach them.

Across the table, Günter smiled. "Thank you for the hard work, Your Majesty."

Yuuri nodded and smiled too, tired but satisfied with himself.

"Your Majesty," Günter began hesitantly after awhile.

Yuuri stared at him. He knew his lavender-haired advisor well enough by now to know the signs that meant Günter had something to say. "What is it, Günter? Feel free to speak your mind."

"You must understand that I am extremely pleased with how hardworking you have been these few days. But I feel that I must ask this: Is there something bothering you?" Günter's tone was gentle, unassuming. And Yuuri knew his advisor was nothing but concerned for him.

Still, how was Yuuri to explain why he was immersing himself in work so that he didn't have to think about anything else to Günter? It was hardly behaviour fit for the demon king.

"I'm fine, Günter," Yuuri replied, trying to keep his tone light. "Don't worry."

Yuuri's teacher eyed him for a moment, but thankfully decided not to push the matter. Finally, he smiled and said, "Well then Your Majesty! Let's head down for dinner! I hear there's a wonderful spread tonight. Nothing but the best for our dearest demon king!"

Yuuri laughed, relieved now that Günter wasn't trying to puzzle the explanation for his sudden enthusiasm for paperwork.

He followed the cheerful man down to the Great Hall where they had their meals.

Gwendal was sitting next to Greta, silent for the most part. Greta burst into a brilliant smile when she spotted Yuuri and waved him over to sit next to her, calling his name excitedly. Conrad nodded genially from his seat at the other side of Gwendal, a small smile on his face. But Yuuri's eyes automatically snapped to the empty seat next to his own.

He frowned.

That was the fourth day running Wolfram hadn't joined them for dinner.

As though reading his mind, Conrad said, "Wolfram's tired from a day of training. He's asked the maids to bring his dinner to his room."

Yuuri nodded, but didn't trust himself to speak.

Beside him, a little of the light in Greta's cheerful eyes went out.

"That's just like the Selfish Prince," Günter huffed impatiently.

Gwendal said nothing, but Yuuri was certain he saw the older man's eyebrow twitch.

They descended into an awkward silence.

Yuuri speared his steak a bit harder than necessary.

Dinner passed relatively uneventfully. Yuuri made sure to ask Greta about her day and what she learned from Anissina (dubious science theories and reading more of the inventor's strange stories). But the distinct lack of noise over the table, of a familiar voice calling him 'Wimp' made the whole affair seem dull, monotonous. Yuuri hadn't realised how quickly time passed when Wolfram was around.

When he was done with dinner, he led Greta to her bed, read her a bedtime story and tucked his daughter in. Returning to his own Royal Chambers alone was more difficult than he remembered.

Since That Incident, Yuuri had woken up the next morning to find his blond fiancé conspicuously absent from his bed. Yuuri half expected the blond to show up at random times for the rest of that day, to call him a wimp, to call him a cheater, or to generally be loud and heard and impossible to ignore. Yuuri had found himself looking forward to seeing Wolfram. But it didn't happen. Even till the moment Yuuri climbed into bed, Wolfram never returned.

And it didn't happen for the next three days either. Tonight was the fourth night since That Incident already, and Yuuri had not even caught a glimpse of his fiancé.

At first Yuuri decided not to confront Wolfram. After all, The Incident was a big thing. For the both of them. It was understandable that Wolfram felt awkward and didn't feel like seeing Yuuri. Yuuri himself wasn't too sure what to say to Wolfram, or how he was supposed to act around the blond from now on. Yuuri decided to allow Wolfram his time. If the blond didn't feel like sharing a bed with Yuuri now, Yuuri would give him the courtesy of privacy. Yet as the days wore on, it was becoming glaringly obvious that Wolfram was avoiding him. And it didn't seem like the blond had any intention of stopping any time soon.

When he finally changed into pyjamas and slipped into bed, Yuuri found himself hating the fact that when he pressed his face into what he always thought of as Wolfram's pillow, he could no longer smell Wolfram's scent.

The bed was cold that night. Like it had been for three consecutive nights before.

"Conrad, do you know where Wolfram's room is?" Yuuri asked in one breath.

His guardian caught the ball in his glove and stared at Yuuri for a while.

"It's on the third floor, the fifth room down the corridor," he said finally. But instead of throwing the ball back to Yuuri like he was supposed to, Conrad stopped and walked towards Yuuri.

"Your Majesty, may I know why you're asking this?" Conrad's voice was gentle, but there was an emotion in it that Yuuri couldn't quite place.

Yuuri faltered. "I…" He searched for a good answer. "I think I should talk to him."

But Conrad prodded some more. "What will you say to him?"

"I… don't know." It was pathetic. But it was also the truth. Yuuri had not thought this out carefully. He only knew that he couldn't allow Wolfram to continue avoiding him like this. He missed his blond friend. And it was ridiculous that they lived in the same castle but never saw each other at all.

Conrad was silent for a while. "If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?"

"It's Yuuri, Conrad. And of course you can," Yuuri responded automatically.

"Wolfram's very confused," Conrad said gently, although Yuuri thought he could detect a tinge of sadness in his voice. "He's someone who's very passionate, who feels strongly about things. Things are black or white with him. There isn't a middle ground. He doesn't understand that other people may not be as clear about their feelings as he is."

Yuuri winced. Conrad was referring to him.

"His feelings for you are especially strong. And what happened five days ago went against everything he thought love should be. Now he has no idea what to think." Conrad placed a hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "He's afraid, Yuuri."

"He's afraid… of me?" Yuuri asked in a small voice. But the thought of Wolfram staying away from him forever because Yuuri scared him was too much for Yuuri to bear. Yuuri could feel the beginning of self-loathing creep into his consciousness.

Conrad shook his head. "He's not afraid of you because of what you did, Yuuri. He's afraid of why you did it."

Yuuri didn't get it. His confusion showed on his face.

Conrad smiled. But it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Whatever you do, Yuuri, think about why you're doing it in the first place. Then you'll be fine."

Third floor corridor, the fifth room down. Yuuri followed the instructions and walked down the aisle with no small amount of anxiety. What would he say to Wolfram? What could he say?

This was it. The fifth room. Yuuri stood outside the door, one hand raised. After a moment's hesitation, he knocked.

There was no answer.

Yuuri tried the door. It was unlocked.

Pushing open the door, Yuuri stepped into the room.

The sight that greeted him wasn't quite what Yuuri had expected.

The room was spartan, barely furnished apart from a small single bed, an empty desk and a solitary cupboard. There was nothing in the room that even suggested that it was the living quarters of the demon king's fiancé. Holding his emotions in check, Yuuri walked forwards, towards the desk, running fingers over the edge of it.

He found a drawer. And on impulse, he opened it.

Inside, he found a few items. But what caught his attention was the stack of pictures. He reached for it and gingerly held them up to examine closely. They were pictures of him. Some of them contained Greta. But out of the five pictures, four contained Yuuri. In those pictures, Yuuri was always smiling. Some of them were clearly taken on Earth. Miko must have given them to Wolfram some time without Yuuri knowing. It was almost eerie how well his mother got along with Wolfram.

He placed the pictures back in the drawer. Where was Wolfram?

Suddenly, the door to the room swung open. The blond in question took a step in before he looked up and saw the uninvited visitor in his room. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, freezing in mid-step.

The next second, Wolfram was running out the door.

If it hadn't been obvious that Wolfram was avoiding him before, it was painfully clear now.

Yuuri sprinted after his blond fiancé. "Wait! Wolfram!" he shouted as they sped down the corridor.

But Wolfram showed no signs of slowing. Angered, Yuuri bellowed, "Stop now! It's an order!"

As though the words were direct commands to his legs, Wolfram stopped. But Yuuri could see from the set way of his shoulders, how tense they were, that it took every ounce of control for Wolfram not to flee. This confrontation must have been what he was dreading.

The familiar sense of guilt crept into Yuuri's gut again and settled there.

He grabbed Wolfram's wrist and tugged it so that Wolfram had to turn to face him.

Wolfram wouldn't meet his eyes. His fists were clenched at his sides and he still looked ready to bolt any moment.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri began. Now that the momentary anger had completely vanished, Yuuri found himself once again at a loss as to what he was supposed to say to his friend. "I didn't mean to order you around. I just… why are you running away from me?"

Wolfram was staring at his feet, head bowed low so that Yuuri couldn't even begin to guess what the blond was thinking. Still, Wolfram made no sound.

"Wolf?" Yuuri tried again, his voice soft. Hoping to coax some response out of his blond friend. He couldn't ever remember wanting to hear the blond's voice as much as he did then.

Wolfram stared at Yuuri's hand were it held his own wrist in a firm grip. He tried to wrest his hand out of Yuuri's grasp. Failing, he bit out, "Let me go."

Feeling another irrational prick of anger at how uncooperative Wolfram was being, Yuuri snapped, "No. Not until you talk to me."

Their loud exchange had drawn the curious stares of several maids and some of the guards. Yuuri looked at the closed expression on Wolfram's face and knew that he wasn't going to get anything out from Wolfram if they stayed in the corridor. He pulled Wolfram none too gently back into the blond's small room and closed the door behind them, strategically placing himself between Wolfram and the door.

Wolfram stood two feet away, arms folded in front of him. And he still wasn't looking at Yuuri.

"There's nothing to talk about," Wolfram said quietly.

For as long as Yuuri had known Wolfram, the blond had always been expressive and vocal about his thoughts and opinions. The only times he'd seen Wolfram behaving like this—quiet and subdued—had been when the blond was possessed by Shinou or forced into a corner by his Uncle Waltorana. Yuuri decided he didn't like this silent Wolfram. This quiet boy, a mere shadow of the friend he'd grown to care for and rely on.

"Tell me why you're avoiding me," Yuuri demanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

Wolfram closed his eyes slowly, as though it physically pained him to answer Yuuri. Determined, Yuuri took a step closer to his blond friend only to have Wolfram take two steps back, until the bed came up behind and gave Wolfram no more room to run.

"You know why." There it was again, that subdued tone.

But Yuuri didn't know why. Not really. "If it's about That Incident, I'm sorry, I had no choice—"

Wolfram's bitter laugh cut Yuuri's apology short. "Of course you didn't. How could you? You're Yuuri and you'd never be able to let me suffer. You'll never be able to resist saving me, even if it means you have to fuck me."

Yuuri flinched at Wolfram's choice of words. "Wolf—"

"No, Yuuri, you listen," Wolfram didn't give Yuuri a chance to speak. Yuuri watched him carefully, and he thought to could see the other boy shaking. Barely perceptible, but there nonetheless. Whether it was out of anger or some other emotion, Yuuri couldn't tell. "I'm not blaming you. It was my fault entirely for hoping that Anissina could help me— In any case, it doesn't matter now. I'm leaving tomorrow."

Panic rose in Yuuri. He breached the distance between them in two quick strides and gripped Wolfram's shoulders. "What?" he choked, voice tight. "Where?" When all Yuuri wanted to do was scream whywhywhy.

"Bielefeld," Wolfram answered without pause. "My Uncle's wanted me back for a long time now. I've run out of excuses to say no to him. Don't worry, I'll call off the engagement before I leave."

Yuuri fought the overwhelming urge to smash something hard against the wall. And then Yuuri realised what Wolfram was really saying.

"You're not coming back." It was a statement, not a question.

Wolfram let his silence confirm Yuuri's suspicions.

"No." Yuuri was beyond furious, even though he'd tried not to be. He couldn't believe how calm Wolfram was about this whole thing. Informing Yuuri without so much as even looking at him that he was leaving. Forever. "I'm not letting you leave."

When Wolfram spoke again, his voice was strained, and more tired than Yuuri's ever heard. "I can't stay here anymore, Yuuri. Don't ask that of me, please."

It was then that Yuuri realised that Wolfram was indeed shaking. Trembling, really. And Wolfram was paler than Yuuri's ever remembered seeing before. There were dark circles under the blond's eyes, marring his perfect features. Wolfram looked haggard, as though he hadn't slept in days, which Yuuri suspected to be the truth.

He's afraid, Conrad's voice echoed in Yuuri's mind.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Wolfram. "Don't go," Yuuri pleaded, voice breaking. "Let me be selfish one last time. Don't leave me, Wolfram."

He heard Wolfram's breath hitch and realised that his shirt where Wolfram had hid his face was wet. "Why do you do this to me?" Wolfram cried softly.

Shocked, Yuuri pulled back and stared. Wolfram's eyes were wet. There were tear streaks down his cheeks. Wolfram hurriedly wiped his tears away, but Yuuri had seen them, and it hurt to know that he was the cause of those tears.

"I'm sorry, Wolfram. Don't cry." It was pathetic, but it was all Yuuri knew how to do. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Wolfram said, struggling to keep his voice even. "It's not your fault you feel the way you do. Or that I forced you to sleep with me." His tone was thick with self-loathing.

But all Yuuri had caught was that last bit. Or that I forced you to sleep with me. He felt dread curl in his stomach.

"Wolfram, you didn't force me to do anything. If anything, it was me—"

"No, but I didn't give you a choice either. When I drank the potion and suffered from its effects, you had no choice but to sleep with me to save me. I remember every bit of it, Yuuri, how I begged you to fuck me—" Yuuri blushed fiercely. "How much I wanted it." Wolfram's voice was choked. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that, but it did anyway. I forced you to make that decision." Wolfram looked up at Yuuri then, and Yuuri felt the resolve in those emerald orbs. "I foolishly went to Anissina for help, thinking that she could give me a potion to make myself more attractive to you. But I couldn't even do that right. I drank the wrong one and you had to sleep with me.

"But you did it because you didn't have a choice. Because you'd never forgive yourself if anything happened to me. And if I continue to stay here, you'll force yourself into a loveless marriage when you know that I can never marry anyone else now that I've slept with you. I don't want to force you, Yuuri. I've only ever wanted you to be happy."

Yuuri shook his head. No. This was all wrong. Wolfram had it all backwards. Yuuri was the one who should be apologizing. Yuuri was the one who had hurt his friend so terribly and so deeply. He was the one who drew up imaginary barriers when he couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was in love with his best friend.

"You're wrong, Wolf," Yuuri said firmly. Things were clear to him now. "I'm happy with you. I will marry you. I want to marry you."

Wolfram, far from looking convinced, looked like he didn't know whether to punch Yuuri or run away. "Stop it! You don't mean that. You're only saying this because you feel you have to do this!" Wolfram's voice was frantic now, struggling to free himself from Yuuri's grip. "I don't want you to marry me because you pity me!"

"Wolf, listen to me—"


"Dammit!" Yuuri cursed. And then he did the only thing he could think of to calm the blond.

He kissed Wolfram.

It was hard and bruising at first. He held Wolfram captive and pressed their lips together with crushing force. Wolfram fought him every step of the way, hurling fists against Yuuri's chest, pushing Yuuri away. Yuuri held on, knowing somewhere inside that if he didn't, he would lose Wolfram. A world without Wolfram scared Yuuri more than he thought possible. Wolfram wouldn't be by his side, with his expressive eyes, with his beautiful smile, with his jealousy and his insecurity and the pictures of Yuuri he hid in his drawer. Wolfram, who had done nothing wrong except to love Yuuri faithfully, deeply and unconditionally. And who had been hurt so badly in the process.

If you fall, I'll fall with you.

He wasn't going to let Wolfram down again.

Slowly, very slowly, Wolfram stopped struggling against him. Yuuri wrapped his arms around the blond's waist, still not willing to risk Wolfram running away from him. But he convinced himself to pull their lips apart just a fraction to whisper against Wolfram's lips. "I love you, Wolfram," he breathed. "I love you so much the thought of you leaving terrifies me. I want you and I need you and I hate myself for hurting you so much.

"It's true I didn't want to sleep with you at first. But you're wrong that I didn't have a choice. I had a choice. I could have broken the engagement and allowed someone else to do it. I didn't. I couldn't. And it wasn't out of pity either. When I saw Murata touching you, I hated myself. When I heard you say my name, I completely lost it. None of that was because I felt obligated to save you, Wolf. I felt that because I'm in love with you and I can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else. I know that now."

Yuuri knew it for the truth the moment he spoke it. And he knew he'd finally said the right thing when he looked at Wolfram and saw the light return to those verdant eyes.


"Will you forgive me, Wolf?"

Wolfram searched Yuuri's eyes with his own for a long while. He must have found what he was looking for, because he finally smiled a genuine smile.

"Wimp," Wolfram whispered, rubbing wetness from his eyes.

It was better than any forgiveness Yuuri could have gotten.

"I can't feel my stomach," Yuuri announced in a strange tone.

Murata didn't even spare Yuuri a glance. "I can assure you your stomach is still very much in place between your diaphragm and your liver." He continued to arrange the red sash against Yuuri's black coat.

Talk of organs made Yuuri feel even worse than he had before. "Something's wrong with today's breakfast," Yuuri declared. "It keeps trying to jump out of my mouth."

"That's anxiety talking, Shibuya." Murata was unsympathetic. Though he did spare Yuuri a glance this time, even if it was only to smirk. "Who would have thought this day would come, huh? You, married."



"Shut up."

The sage laughed and patted Yuuri's shoulder. "It's your wedding day! You should be happy!"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," the demon king replied, pale.

"That's not advisable, Shibuya," Murata pretended to consider it seriously. "Getting married in vomit-covered formal attire isn't very awe-inspiring, even if you are the Maou."

Yuuri groaned. "I just... What if he bails, Murata? What if I want to bail when I see him?" Yuuri nervously chewed on his thumbnail.

Murata smiled. "That's not going to happen."

"What if he really doesn't want to do this?"

"Do you not want to do this?" Murata asked, raising one eyebrow.

"What? No! Of course not," Yuuri protested.

"Well then that's settled then, isn't it? He loves you, and you love him. Anyone can tell that." Murata rested a hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "You just have to walk down that aisle and make it official."

Yuuri sighed, the tension finally leaving his shoulders.

"Now, let's go over the ceremony," Murata said, stepping back to give Yuuri a final once over.

"I stand in front with my father and Conrad, since he's my best man." A glance at the sage had Murata nodding reassuringly, motioning for him to continue. "Then Greta comes with a lit candle, which represents the will of the Original King, followed by Gwendal, Wolf's best man and the ring holder—"

"And then Wolfram comes with his mother and we have the ceremony, which I will be conducting," Murata finished, straightening the dangling gold ropes on Yuuri's shoulder. "From there it's basically follow along, very easy."

The sage paused, his glasses glinting in the light.


"I feel a little regretful."

Yuuri raised elegant black eyebrows.

"I should have slept with your fiancé when I still had the chance."


Murata's answering laugh was enough to make Yuuri forget his previous anxiety completely.


Just before Yuuri could get his hands around his laughing friend's neck, there was a soft knock at the door and Conrad stuck his head into the room. "Your Majesty, it's almost time."

Yuuri reminded himself to breathe as he followed Conrad out to the Main Hall.

The Main Hall was filled with people.

Yuuri could see Miko and Shori seated right at the front. Shouma was already waiting for him in front on the raised platform, looking proud. Miko was waving excitedly, a brilliant smile on her face, her light yellow dress elegant yet simple. Shouma and Shori wore similar navy blue tuxes, and Shori was looking grumpy as usual. But Yuuri wasn't fooled for a second. He knew his family was happy for him.

Yuuri glanced down the aisle at the doors on the far end of the Hall.

Greta appeared in the doorway just like she was supposed to, looking resplendent in her pale blue dress. Her smile was brighter than the flame she carried, and she took utmost care to walk down the aisle at the exact speed they'd rehearsed many times before.

When she came to the table, she laid the candle on top carefully and ran to give Yuuri a quick hug around the middle before stepping aside.

Gwendal was next. He was wearing formal robes, not the usual uniform, but they were dark green all the same. He passed the rings to Murata and placed a heavy hand on Yuuri's shoulder. For once, there wasn't a single wrinkle etched into the older man's forehead and Yuuri thought he spied a small smile too.

Yuuri forgot to breathe as he waited next.

Here it comes.

The entire assembly turned to stare at the open doorway where Cheri and Wolfram should be standing.

Only there was no one there.

Yuuri literally felt his heart drop into his shoes. It was over, they were done, Wolfram had bailed. Decided that Yuuri was too wimpy to marry after all.

Then suddenly, they were there.

Lady Cheri was dressed far more elegantly than Yuuri had ever known her to. Her flowing blond her cascaded down her back and she stole the attention of most of the men in the Hall with her ample bosom and even more ample jewelry. But Yuuri only had eyes for the other blond beside her.

Wolfram was dressed in robes of ivory, a contrast to Yuuri's own ebony. The color was to signify the fact that the prince was becoming royalty. It was a colour reserved for the Royal Consort.

Yuuri had known from the moment he'd first laid eyes on Wolfram that the blond was attractive, but it was nothing compared to the way he looked right now. It wasn't the crisp white vest and poet sleeves of his shirt, or the snug fit of seamless looking trousers. It wasn't the brilliant blue of his brooch, the only bit of color he wore, or the faint scent of a flower wafting the short distance between them.

Wolfram was, quite simply, breathtakingly beautiful.

He was smiling, too, really smiling at Yuuri, his green eyes dancing with joy.

Cheri bestowed a huge kiss on each of the lover's cheek before retreating to her seat in the front row, Greta following to perch herself on her grandmother's lap.

"Yuuri, Wolfram, please join left hands and look at one another," Murata requested, watching with a broad grin as the lovers did as told.

"I thought you had run," Yuuri told Wolfram in a low voice when Murata began the ceremony.

"I'm not the wimp in this relationship," Wolf replied fondly, smiling with his eyes.

Yuuri chuckled a bit, watching as Gwendal put their rings on their hands.

"Do you, Shibuya Yuuri, take Wolfram von Bielefeld as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold, to love and to honour, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

Yuuri suddenly felt his throat constrict. He swallowed nervously. "I do."

Murata asked the same question to Wolfram.

"Do you, Wolfram von Bielefeld, take Shibuya Yuuri as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold, to love and to honour, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

Yuuri felt Wolfram's hand clasp his own. "I do."

Beaming, Murata raised a hand to address the seated audience.

"If anyone present has any just cause as to why these two should not be bound in matrimony, may they speak now or forever remain silent."

The dark-haired teen didn't trust himself to look at the candle burning on the table; instead, he kept his gaze on Wolfram's brilliant emerald eyes. He could feel himself shaking, and Wolfram squeezed his hand again reassuringly. The blonde let a smile slide across his face, and Yuuri remembered why he was doing this at all in the first place.

Yuuri smiled back and squeezed the pale hand in his in return.

"I now pronounce you lawfully wedded husbands," Murata's voice cut through the silence, and when Yuuri finally tore his eyes away from Wolfram, he saw Murata with a genuine smile on his face.

The candle was still burning bright.

"You may kiss the blushing groom," Murata declared, smirking at the couple.

Before Yuuri had a chance to puzzle who exactly that meant, Wolfram pulled him close and planted a long, passionate kiss on his new spouse.

A deafening cheer rose from the assembly, but Yuuri and Wolfram were lost in their own happy place.


A/N: Loved it, hated it? Leave me a review all the same!