Wolfram glared out the window at the sight of Yuuri playing what he called ‘baseball’ with Conrad. That was all they ever did, just stand there throwing the ball back and forward with oversized leather gloves on their hands. He didn’t understand the appeal of such a game, for it seemed rather monotonous, or why Yuuri couldn’t teach him how to play so that they could do it together.
It seemed that the only one Yuuri wanted to be around was Conrad. Everyone always wanted Conrad. It appeared to be that somehow the middle brother had become the favorite with all of Shin Makoku, including Wolfram’s fiancée. If Yuuri were to come to him and say he was leaving for someone else, the prince wouldn’t even need to ask who it would be.
It was then that Gunter entered the scene he was observing. Wolfram stifled his laughter at the sight of the silver haired man dragging Yuuri away from his god father and towards the library. As long as Gunter was there to do it, Wolfram would not have to become the enemy. Yuuri wouldn’t have to know.
However, it was later, at dinner, when he would make that same mistake. Not that it was intentional, mind you, but Wolfram had a way of saying the wrong things at the worst times…
Yuuri poked at his meat, he wasn’t hungry. Too many thoughts were bubbling over in his head to leave any room for hunger. Whether it be worrying about Greta’s cold or trying to stop a war, he was always drifting off. When Conrad took notice of the king’s dissatisfaction, he moved to make amends. “Does the food not please you, your majesty?”
“No…,” Yuuri spoke softly, “its fine… I’m just tired.”
“I don’t see why,” Wolfram snorted. His brothers looked shocked, their cold glares making him aware of his mistake. Yuuri was trying, and he knew that, perhaps even better than anyone else, but everything that burst from his mouth only made matters worse. It was just that, sometimes, insulting Yuuri was the only way he could get the king to acknowledge his existence.
“Wolfram!” Conrad interjected in unison with Gunter. “Apologize.”
“WOLFRAM, he is your king!”
“I’m his fiancée!” Wolfram spat, so tired of being looked down upon by others.
“You don’t deserve to be.” The room went silent as Conrad said this; it was so uncharacteristically cruel of him to say. Even Yuuri went rigid, watching as Wolfram’s façade of anger broke away to an expression he couldn’t recognize.
“It’s not like you would understand, Weller!” He thrust his fists unenthusiastically on the table and ran off, angry tears burning his eyes.
It was late when Wolfram returned to his bedroom from his haven in the rose garden. That was where he always went to think things through. Slowly he turned the knob and stepped in to what he found to be a pitch black room. The only light was the pastel glow from the moon streaming in through the open curtains.
Cautiously he closed the door behind him, thinking that perhaps Yuuri was already asleep, but he would find quiet the opposite. A movement in the darkness caught his eye. “Yuuri?”
There was silence for a moment, as if Yuuri was trying to gain the courage to speak. The curtains swirled eerily as a small breeze whistled through underneath the window. “Take off your clothes.”
Another moment of silence, then Yuuri’s voice became softer and more desperate, “please, Wolf.”
“I don’t under-,”
Reluctantly Wolfram gave in, somewhat frightened. This wasn’t like Yuuri at all, and worse he couldn’t see where he was. Slowly he undid the buttons of his jacket, gently unclasping the chain around his neck and undoing his belt buckle. He then it fall to the ground in a small crumpled heap. Gradually the rest of his clothing follow until all of his body was revealed to the cold night air. He shivered nervously, awaiting his next instruction.
“Come into the moonlight,” Yuuri murmured.
Guardedly, Wolfram did so. As the pale glow washed over his body, he heard an almost inaudible gasp from his left, so that’s where Yuuri was.
“Kirei,” Yuuri murmured, stunned by Wolfram’s beauty. Shyly he began to move around within the darkness, trying to see his fiancée from every different angel, yet remaining hidden.
Tempted to follow Yuuri with his eyes, Wolfram restrained himself, somehow sensing that there was a reason the boy did not want to be seen. Therefore he remained still, like a statue being examined by an onlooker.
Bit by bit Wolfram regained his confidence, “are you going to touch me, hennachoko?”
There was a longer pause and the shuffling of the king’s feet died out within the right hand corner of the room. “I can’t.”
Wolfram was confused, “of course you can, I’m right here…”
“I would taint you.” His voice was weak and broken as he said this. “Because of….I can’t.”
What couldn’t he say? What didn’t he want him to know? Part of Wolfram’s heart shattered at the realization that Yuuri still didn’t trust him. “You’re so unfair, Yuuri, you never let anyone help you.”
“I won’t make you tell me why, but…I want you to trust me, like you trust Conra-Weller.”
Tears welled up in Yuuri’s eyes at this confession. He hadn’t meant to hurt Wolfram. “I do trust you, Wolf. But, you’re something I can never have. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Everyone always says sorry! I hate that word. I want to take care of you, Yuuri, to protect you. If someone hurt you I’ll-,” he stopped as a soft piece of cloth was tied over his eyes, plunging him into darkness. “Yuuri…”
“Do you still want me if you can’t see me?”
“Of course, Yuuri, I am not that shallow.” Wolfram was surprised, but seemed to be catching on. Yuuri was caving in slightly.
“You would keep this on while we made love?”
The prince stood dumbfounded for a moment. Yuuri wanted to make love with him? It was a dream come true, even if it had an odd twist. If his fiancée didn’t want Wolfram to see his body, than he would have to go along with what he wanted. It was definitely something significant if it could make Yuuri act this strangely. “Yes, hennachoko.”
To his surprise Yuuri made no audible response, just tentatively pressed their lips together, almost testing the other man to see his reaction. Wolfram nearly jumped at the new contact, but soon regained himself.
“Wolfram…kirei…,” Yuuri sighed as he stroked his fiancée’s pale cheek. His voice was soft a childlike as he hesitantly he guided the future queen’s hands to the buttons of his linen nightshirt; shyly helping him in discarding it. A fire had started within him, and it longed only for Wolfram.
Once the article of clothing had been taken care of, they paused, the king not quite ready to lose the rest of his attire. It was then that Yuuri led them to their bed, crawling softly over the coverlet to the decorative pillows where he lay in anticipation. He chuckled faintly when Wolfram had settled himself over him.
Their first touches were clumsy and uncertain, more so for Wolfram who was blindfolded. Yet he began to memorize every small detail of Yuuri’s body. It was odd to be dominant over his fiancée; nevertheless the prince had learned to expect the unexpected with his king.
At long last Wolfram located Yuuri’s lips. It was going to be difficult taking someone without his sight. The kiss started innocent, broken intermittently by soft gasps and nervous giggles; then grew more passionate. Wolfram began coaxing Yuuri on, feeling his fiancée’s usual strength returning. When the boy pressed his tongue to Wolfram’s pink lips the prince took the signal and allowed it to enter, exploring the luscious cavern of his mouth.
Just then there were voices in the hallway. The lovers froze, unsure of whether or not they had been detected.