Warning: There is no plot. None.
This is, unfortunately, not what it looks like. I WISH IT WAS.
Wolfram glanced down on the note in his hand for the tenth time. Hard as it was to believe his eyes, there could be no mistake. That was the Maou’s handwriting, but the request it phrased was. . . unusual, to say the least.
The Mazoku prince tried to stop his confusion from showing as he made his way to the bedroom Yuuri (unwillingly) shared with him. It made no sense. Yuuri should be in the midst of a conference with the king of Francshire, not scheduling an unexpected rendezvous with his fiancé in the middle of the day!
Still, hope flared within him as he strode through the castle hallways, at the thought that Yuuri wanted to see him, for once.
Before he knew it, he was where Yuuri had commanded he be.
Unconsciously, he took a deep breath, and pushed the doors open.
To his surprise, Yuuri was already there, leaning upon a column of the four-poster bed that was nearest to the door. He looked up at Wolfram’s entrance, and smiled.
“What is the meaning of this, Yuuri?” demanded Wolfram, as he closed the distance between them. “You’d better have a good reason for –”
What he was going to say next fled his mind entirely, by way of an opportune mis-step by Yuuri as he approached. The Maou’s foot was suddenly where it hadn’t been before. Wolfram tripped, and took Yuuri with him as they fell upon the covers.
“Sorry,” said Yuuri, not looking in the least repentant.
“Get off me, henachoko!” stormed Wolfram. Being summoned to their bedroom in the middle of the day by his wayward fiancé was one thing. Being pinned to the bed by said fiancé was entirely another.
And as Yuuri didn’t seem to be inclined to move at all, Wolfram opened his mouth to repeat his demand. But at that exact moment, Yuuri shifted, and somehow that simple movement made Wolfram’s breath catch in his throat and realise just how close to Yuuri he was.
Under his fiancé upon the massive bed, Wolfram felt as if his face was on fire.
“Yuuri,” he began to say, but he was interrupted by a horrified gasp from the doorway. A quick glance confirmed his worst fears – he and Yuuri had suddenly gained an audience, and that of the king of Francshire, his sister-advisor Laila, both his brothers, a semi-hysterical Gunter, and a cheerfully smiling Murata.
If Wolfram had felt his face was on fire before – well. This particular situation was worthy of nothing less than an inferno.
“Your Excellency!” he started, feeling he owed the king of Francshire an explanation. “It’s –”
“Exactly what it looks like,” finished Yuuri.
Wolfram turned to stare at his fiancé, shocked speechless.
“I am very happy with my fiancé –” At this, Yuuri paused to gaze down upon Wolfram and smile. “And I take exception to any attempt to prove otherwise.”
“And if you wouldn’t mind,” Yuuri continued, locking his fingers with Wolfram’s, “Close the door behind you.”
Over the sound of receding footsteps came the unmistakeable sound of a bolt being shot.
“Now,” said Yuuri, with a look in his eyes Wolfram had never seen before, “Where were we?”
For lacewood and shaorankun:
(the letter for lacewood! [letter fic omg. xD] and I didn't mean for ConYuu to make Jen sad! T_T )
It was a cold, clear day when a streak of white that was not a snowflake darted across the skies and deposited a tiny roll of parchment, tied in blue-gold ribbon, in the palm of Yuuri’s hand. The pigeon landed on Yuuri’s shoulder and cooed as Yuuri unfolded the crisp parchment, and a letter in his fiance’s small, neat hand unfurled.
“You idiot,” said the letter, without preamble, “What do you think you’re doing? You should be working on the treaty with Caloria, or focusing on the negotiations with the slave traders, or deciding where to stop for the night, rather than wasting your time writing to me!”
But Yuuri could almost hear Wolfram’s voice as he read those words, and the insult passed over him like a cloud shadow in high wind. The sentiment made him grin, and he continued reading the letter, unaware of the smile slowly spreading across his face.
“If you’ve forgotten all the things you should be doing, you should come right home and I’ll slap some sense back into you. If I don’t do it, who will? Henachoko.
Anyway, Gunter wants me to inform you that the Shimaron envoy has returned to report on the talks with King Belial. Hahahue wishes to inform you that you are mine. I am merely reporting her views, not stating my own, which are that you belong, always, to the people, as a good king should. Gwendal says that the fortifications on the city walls are almost complete, and he expects them to be ready within the week. Anissina’s newest disaster has made the tables talk.
Your daughter misses you. I’ve been reading to her.
I hope I don’t have to remind you that a king’s place is with his people, and only upon the high roads of adventure when absolutely necessary. Stop wasting time writing to me. The faster you are done with what you have to do, the faster you’ll be home.