Consequences of the Maou\'s Heart

Rated M for foul language, alcohol usage, dark themes, and homosexual sex. If you are not mature enough to deal with these please turn back now. **New Warning: Light Bondage**

Chapter 19


Yuri shook weakly on his bed, the dim light of the waning moon shone over the scene playing out in the Royal Chamber. Blankets plied on the floor alongside Yuri’s usual nighttime attire. Black silk wrapped securely around the Maou’s wrists, holding them together above his head and anchored to the headboard. Two more lengths of silk kept the young ruler’s legs straight and spread as they curled around his ankles and trailed to the footboard.

The air in the room seemed to ghost over his nude body, as if only to remind him of his exposed state. He’d lost track of time, but it seemed he’d been there so long, long enough for night to have past and came again many times over. However the moon remained unwavering and motionless since the moment he’d come to awareness. He’d tried calling for help, but his most frantic cries came out as pitiful whimpers. He’d pulled and thrashed against his bonds, but the silk held tight. He’d even tried to call on the Maryoku that he was just now becoming comfortable using, but his power remained dormant.

None of Yuri’s efforts to free himself paid off. It was shameful, Yuri knew, to be trussed up on display like this, in his own castle none the less. Yet, despite the shame, cold, and pain in his limbs he was aroused. The squirming and struggling had only exasperated the problem and worse yet it had started to hurt. Bound as he was and not a cold shower in sight, Yuri once again started writhing, not to get free but to try and find some sort of relief from his persistent arousal.

It was during this fit of frustrated action that the door creaked open. Yuri froze, sweating and flush from exertion, his face pressed into his arm, unable to stand the thought of someone seeing him like this. He counted the beats of his heart as the door slid shut and soft footsteps trailed towards the bed. The delicate little slaps stopped as bare feet settled next to the foot of the bed, on the side away from his face. Surely the panicked thumps of his heart had to be echoing in the room so loudly that they blocked out the sounds of his audience. Surely anyone would mock such a pathetic king, ensnared and aroused in his own bed. But his visitor didn’t laugh, didn’t snicker, or snort. The silence was painful for Yuri, he began to wonder if there was even anyone really there. He forced his head to stay turned away, as much as he wanted to know that there was someone there, looking would make him realize just who was watching him like this.

“You’re an idiot you know,” a voice seemed to echo from just beside Yuri’s head, causing the Maou to gasp loudly. It was unlike any he had heard before, but it was so familiar. “He’s been waiting for you; it would be rude not to greet him.”

Yuri felt his head turning, not really sure if he wanted it to. The moonlight wasn’t very intense but it was still bright enough to show him the figure watching him. Pale pink fabric fell off even paler shoulders, inviting eyes to travel up a slender neck, only to be sidetracked by tousled blond hair. Yet it was the face that wrought a pained gasp from Yuri’s lips. Tempting cherry lips glistened with saliva even as a tongue peaked out to wet them again. Emerald eyes, darkened with lust, tracked each subtle movement of Yuri’s body as the Maou fought to stay still under the scrutiny.

“You’re still an idiot, greet him.” If Yuri had any of his wits about him, he might have noticed the exasperated tone in the voice.

“Wolfram…,” Yuri whispered, surprised that the name seemed louder than his cries for help earlier. He fought a wave of panic when Wolfram began moving. Two small calloused hands settled on the bed between Yuri’s spread feet.

“Yuri...,” Wolfram’s voice rubbed against Yuri like some tangible desert wind, hot and powerful.

“Ahh… Wolfram,” Yuri panted, hating the way his voice sounded like some loose woman in one of Shori’s dating sims.

“Idiot, tell him what you want, after all you summoned him here,” Yuri turned to tell that irritating voice that he didn’t summon anyone, but found that once again his words slipped out soundlessly. “Tell him.”

“Yuri,” again that burning wind swept over Yuri, drawing his attention back to blond watching him desperately.

“Wolf…Please,” he forgot to be surprised at the return of his voice when Wolfram started crawling sinuously onto the bed. He was sure that his heart would explode each time one of those hands dipped the bed slightly on their owner’s path forward. When Wolfram finally stopped his hands rested on either side of Yuri’s waist, arms straight holding the weight of his body off Yuri. That treacherously pink fabric caressed the insides of Yuri’s thighs every time he shifted even the slightest bit. And oh God, Yuri thought, the neck of Wolfram’s night gown opened wide enough he could see the line of the blond’s body. His eyes roamed over that tone slender chest, down Wolfram’s tight firm stomach, and finally rested on the hard column of flesh that seemed to sway ever so slightly with each breath Wolfram took. Yuri couldn’t look away, he knew it was wrong, but the undeniable proof of Wolfram’s attraction sent a fresh wave of arousal through the bound king.

“Haven’t figured out the game yet? Idiot.” The sound of that increasingly annoying voice was nearly enough to take Yuri’s eyes away from the picture of wickedness in front of him, nearly.

“Wolf please… Off,” even Yuri wasn’t sure what he was asking for, part of his mind was yelling that he wanted Wolfram to get off of him, but the larger part knew it was something much less innocent. Wolfram smiled, almost as if he could hear Yuri’s thoughts as much as he could his words. He slid backwards a bit earning a desperate whimper from Yuri. As he moved his nightgown bunched up uncovering his pale legs to the moonlight.

Another whimper from Yuri had him crawling to cover the double black again, nightgown hitched up to his waist. Instead of stopping where he was before, Wolfram crawled further. His own legs spread wide to rest a bare knee on either side of Yuri’s hips, and all that bunched fabric piled on Yuri’s arousal. The sensation of something finally touching him caused Yuri to buck upwards urgently. With another devilish smile, Wolfram began pulling the gown up and over his head. Each fold of fabric caressed Yuri’s hardness as it flowed upwards. By the time the pink garment cleared Wolfram’s golden locks; Yuri was panting harshly and thrusting into the air wantonly. Wolfram let his hands settle back onto the bed on either side of Yuri’s heaving chest.

“Yuri,” again Wolfram’s voice blew over Yuri’s skin, so hot that the Maou wondered if it alone would set him aflame.

“Wolf I need… I need… Ah!” Yuri cried out as Wolfram allowed his legs to spread even wider, sitting heavily on Yuri’s lap. The blond’s arousal caught between their bodies, the sensation sent a minor surge of panic through the Maou. However, the location of his answering hardness let loose a swell of pleasure that cut through any panic. He felt himself nestled against two firm globes, that his mind helpfully informed him had to be Wolfram’s ass. But the sensation was off, Yuri may not always be the most knowledgeable person but he knew this wasn’t quite right and struggled to put his concern into words, “W...w… wet?” Wolfram’s only reply was that same hungry stare and his tongue flicking out to wet his lips again.

“Heh, I thought I told you he’s been waiting for you. What kind of midnight guest comes un……prepared,” the voice’s laughter echoed briefly as images flooded Yuri’s mind. Flashes of scenes like he’d seen in his mother’s manga during his childhood, boys on their knees, faces pressed to the ground as slick fingers worked in and out of unmentionable places. Only it wasn’t nameless pretty boys in his head, it was Wolfram with a self-conscious blush as he stretched himself wider with his own graceful fingers, biting his lip to keep in any lustful moans. Yuri wasn’t so successful in keeping his own noises in check and let out a plaintive groan.

“Oh God, oh God. Wolf… ah Wolfram please, please hurry,” Yuri panted as he started struggling against his bonds again, straining to touch the man who was torturing him so pleasurably. Wolfram responded by slumping down till they lay chest to chest and reaching behind him to gently grasp Yuri’s member. Yuri kept up a steady stream of begging babble as Wolfram guided the tip into himself, leaning back as it went deeper till it could go no further. Once again Wolfram stopped, head flung back, one hand supporting his balance while the other still lingered where their bodies joined. Yuri’s eyes focused on the engorged flesh jutting out from a nest of blond curls and the tiny bead of fluid gathering at the very tip. His own tongue darted out in mimic of Wolfram’s earlier action, wondering if only for a moment what such a thing might taste like. The moment dragged on and Yuri found himself trying to thrust up into that mind rending heat, but Wolfram’s battle won strength easily surpassed Yuri’s own. No movement could be had unless the blond willed it so. The silence of room left Yuri’s ears ringing as he tried to remember why the quiet was bad.

“*Sigh* You stopped and so did he, he’s always followed your word to the end.” Realization swarmed over Yuri and he started babbling meaningless words. He was rewarded by Wolfram working his hips deliberately. Hips no longer held down, Yuri began bucking up in a tenuous rhythm with Wolfram’s sure movements. Even the most steadfast convictions that what they were doing was wrong stayed silent in the face of such pleasure. Pleading and begging the Maou turned himself over to his bodies desire, Yuri kept talking even as he approached his long awaited climax.

“Wolf…Yes oh God yes. Please, so good. Oh God I’m close, I’m gonna ah! Wolf I Lo… AH!” Yuri screamed wordlessly as felt himself spilling into Wolfram, searing wetness splashed onto his stomach as Wolfram’s untouched member erupted with the blond’s own climax.

The room swam as Yuri rode out the waves of pleasure his joining with Wolfram produced. As the rhythm of his heart slowed to a more typical pace, Yuri glanced up to take in his former fiancé’s visage, fully expecting a satisfied smirk to match the lust filled one he’d received earlier. The melancholy resignation that graced the blond’s face alarmed Yuri greatly; surely Wolfram would be glad they’d finally been together.

“Yuri…,” Wolfram sighed, his voice no longer rushed over Yuri like some great furnace. Instead it reminded him of a late autumn breeze, the chill of winter already making it’s self known. Yuri was reminded that his arms were still bound over his head as he attempted to reach out and console Wolfram. The blond shook his head sadly and turned to stare at the sky visible through the windows. When the moonlight started to shine through Wolfram’s skin instead of on it Yuri began to panic.

“Wolfram!” He struggled harder against his bonds than he’d done since he first noticed them, the silk ties stayed strong and began to cut off circulation to the Maou’s wrists.

“Were he’s going your words will hold no sway over him,” again the voice piped up.

“What?! No! Wolf please stay! I need you with me, please!” Yuri pleaded as Wolfram’s increasingly translucent figure ignored his cries.

“He’s past hearing you, maybe actions could speak for you, but then again you’ve never been good at that with him. Unless you wanted him to think you didn’t want him around then you’re just wonderful at it.” Yuri turned to snarl angrily in the direction that the voice seemed to be coming from, only gasp at the sight awaiting him. Illuminated by the moon, a figure stood dressed in a familiar black uniform. Shoulder length hair whipped around caught in an intangible wind, black cat slit eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“You….you’re…,” Yuri stuttered.

“I’m you, well the non idiot version anyway. So easily distracted,” Yuri turned as this new version of himself pointed back toward the window. The boy almost looked out the window, till he realized there was nothing in front of him.

“Wolfram? Wolfram. Wolfram!!” Yuri thrashed helplessly screaming Wolfram’s name over and over again till it lost all semblance of words and became a mindless wailing.

Yuri woke up screaming. A quick glance out the window revealed the predawn lightening of the sky. Out of breath and frantic, Yuri tried to make sense of what was going on. He’d had another dream; the wetness in his pajamas was proof enough of that. But were as the others always left him satisfied or lustful, this one left him trembling with panic. The word ‘idiot’ echoed through his mind as Yuri hurriedly dressed, he needed to be somewhere, he needed to do something, he needed…Wolfram! An image of the blond popped up in Yuri’s mind along with the remembrance of his imminent departure. Running his fingers through his hair, Yuri glanced down into the courtyard. Wolfram and the others were already there and getting ready to leave. Cursing under his breath, Yuri dashed out of the room. But with every step he took, doubt filled his mind. Why was he so worried about Wolfram because of a stupid dream? Still the blond was leaving, Yuri ignored the twinge of foreboding that shot through him at the thought, and Yuri needed to see him off properly. With that in mind, Yuri jogged down the last flight of stairs and ran into the courtyard.

*****
For the first time Murata understood why Yuri so often stood in terror of his former fiancé. The blond radiated aggravation in his direction, the very picture of an angered god. Apparently the young Maou had taken Murata seriously and not informed Wolfram that he’d be having company on his journey. Dawn was just breaking, but it seemed that the entirety of the castle was not only awake but watching the courtyard, though none dared to actually enter the yard. The audience was likely the only reason Wolfram hadn’t taken to berating the Sage to within an inch of his life. Prying his eyes away from the certain doom written in Wolfram’s expression, Murata took in the two guards that would be accompanying them. A tall brunette secured the straps on his saddle bags and offered a quick nod when he noticed the Sage’s interest; Wolfram had referred to the young man as Edward. The other soldier sat astride his horse limply, a wide yawn split his face as his ran a calloused hand through his pale green hair. The man’s name eluded Murata.

“Simon! Quit your slouching!” Wolfram’s frustration had found an easy outlet.

“Ah Captain, but it’s so early.” Simon’s voice echoed through the courtyard, petulant whine and all. Murata smiled faintly at the resulting tirade and made note of the man’s name. The sensation of being watched crawled up the double black’s spine and he turned to see Edward staring at him.

“Ah ha, nice morning isn’t it,” the only response Murata received was a slight nod. The sage motioned for the man to come closer, “He’s doing that on purpose,” he pointed at the other soldier, “Isn’t he?” Again a nod was the only response, but this one was accompanied by a slight smile. The man mounted his horse and turned away from the Sage. Curious, Murata thought, Wolfram’s men seemed well suited to calming down their commanding officer.

“And if I catch you behaving so foolishly again, you’ll regret it in ways I can’t mention in polite company.” Simon paled slightly, he knew Wolfram would be in a bad mood but this was worse than expected.

“Yes sir,” Simon saluted, “I understand.”

“Well now that that’s settled, are we ready to go?” Despite the small amount of light given off by the freshly rising sun, a ray still managed to cross the Sage’s glasses obscuring his eyes from view. Murata was perversely glad for this when the former prince turned to glare at him again.

“If you still insist that your presence is necessary, then yes we are… Geika,” Wolfram’s voice sent minute shivers down Murata’s spine, “I trust you’ve packed for an arduous trip?”

“Ha, of course. This is hardly my first excursion into the unknown. Sure you don’t need to say anymore goodbyes? You’re going to be gone for… quite some time.” Murata couldn’t help but be surprised that no one had come to wish the blond a safe journey. Surely at least his brothers would want to see him off?

“My goodbyes are as taken care of as they will get,” Wolfram huffed arrogantly, unwilling to admit that he’d nearly been unable to sleep the night before between his guards and his brothers attempts at well wishing. Even Greta slipped out of bed to throw in her two cents.

“Ah, well then let’s head out,” mentally Murata cursed the unpredictable nature of Celi’s sons. Unsteady breathing and rushed steps reached the Sage’s ears and he fought to keep a smirk off his face, at least some people are still easy to read.

“Ha… Wolf… Wolfram… *pant* Wait a second!” Yuri slumped forward, hands braced on his knees, clothes eschew and mismatched. Clearly the young monarch hadn’t planned to be up and about this early. Upon catching his breath Yuri continued, “Wolfram! Were you really going to leave without saying anything,” he paused before whispering the last bit, “to me?”

“Heika,” a sour look found its way onto Wolfram’s face as he stared at the unkempt state of his ruler, “I was under the impression that everything was in order. More communication seemed superfluous.” From their perch above the courtyard the castle maids gasped in tandem, Wolfram sounded so cold and Yuri looked so hurt!

“Wolf… I … We’re… We’re still friends… right?” Wolfram could feel his eyes softening as they took in Yuri’s pitiful countenance.

“Of course Heika,” Wolfram started.

“It’s Yuri Wolfram. Heck, call me a wimp if you want, just… just not Heika. It sounds wrong when you say it.”

“As you wish… Yuri,” Wolfram felt as though he had to choke out Yuri’s name and the blonde steeled himself before continuing, “Unless there is something you needed to add, we were just about to head out.”

“I uh…,” suddenly acutely aware of his rumpled state and not so subtle audience, Yuri blushed and averted his eyes from Wolfram, “I just wanted to tell you good luck and please stay safe.” Murata noted that Wolfram’s men seemed oddly uncomfortable at Yuri’s sentiment.

“Ah, I see. Thank you for your concern Hei… Yuri. However, I assure you it is unneeded. Our journey will surely go as planned. We really must be on our way… goodbye Yuri.” The Maou focused his eyes back on Wolfram, the blond made it sound so final.

“It’s not goodbye Wolfram, it’s see you later.” The sight of Yuri standing there with such a determined look on his face sent a wave of nostalgia through Wolfram and unable to speak he offered a tiny smile to Yuri. Murata barely resisted planting his face in his palm as the word ‘idiots’ echoed through his mind. Within minutes, Wolfram and his traveling companions made their way through the gates of Covenant Castle. Yuri and the other more inconspicuous witnesses were struck by the image of Shinou’s descendent and the Great Sage riding side by side. For a moment no one spoke, of course the moment didn’t last and before the hour was out there would be a new betting pool on whether or not Wolfram would be returning with a new double black fiancé. Unlike the tittering maids, Yuri could only take in the scene with a sense of unease. Something just didn’t feel right to the young Maou, Wolfram was meant to stand at his side not Murata’s, not anyone else’s.


*****

Murata sighed heavily, at the rate things were going he’d be walking funny for days.

“Tired already Geika?” Wolfram smirked faintly at Murata’s clear discomfort.

“Hah I suppose it has been a while since I’ve ridden like this,” Murata allowed his eyes to narrow as he offered Wolfram an annoyed smile. The two guards on either side shared a nervous grin; even they were starting to get tired from the intense pace Wolfram had set. Since they had left the castle early that morning Wolfram had only allowed them to stop when the horses needed it. The sun had already passed it zenith several hours ago and the men preyed their commanding officer had a particular destination for the evening, else wise they could foresee riding long into the night. Murata had outlined the basic path they would be taking and despite Wolfram’s annoyance at the Sage’s planning, the group was following Murata’s directions.

“So gentlemen,” Murata let a small leer grace his face as he glanced at Wolfram’s guards, “Does your Captain usually ride you so hard?” Simon and Edward made choking noises as they tried to think past the indecent thoughts Murata inspired.

“Murata,” Wolfram growled each syllable out slowly.

“What? I’m only enquiring about your staying power. You look like a man who could do it all day and night… riding that is.” Murata couldn’t help but think it was just too easy to rile up the blond.

“Argh! Sometimes I really don’t understand why so many people listen to every word to say like it was gospel, when half the things that you say are INDECENT!!” Wolfram turned in his saddle to shout at the unruffled double black.

“Ah the passion of youth, how I miss it. Though my body may be young my soul is weary,” Murata brought a hand up to his forehead to complete his distressed look, “If only I was fit and ready like your men, I’d be able to satisfy your demanding pace.”

“You… you… YOU HEDONISTIC EXCUSE FOR A SAGE!” Wolfram struggled to draw a calming breath, he’d expected Murata to resort to this type of teasing but it was still infuriating. “We’re stopping for the night at the next town, so stop harassing my men.” Only years of practice kept the other soldiers from breathing a sigh of relief. The rest of the ride was a quiet affair; they paused once for Murata to done a simple tan hooded cloak and a pair of green contacts. They may not be headed into human territory but double blacks always attracted far too much attention. It wasn’t till they were entering the town that Murata decided to pipe up again.

“So do you intend to wear your uniforms the whole way?” The blue uniforms were attracting a bit of interest, or maybe it was the pretty boy dressed in one.

“Humph only till we get outside of normal patrol areas, after that they’ll be more of a hindrance than an aide.”

“My my an officer of the crown hiding away his uniform. I thought you’d be offended that I even asked,” Murata was honestly a bit surprised at Wolfram’s answer, he’d always assumed the blond was too proud of his position to shy away form it unless ordered to.

“Sometimes…,” a far away look flashed into Wolfram’s eyes, “Sometimes the best way to serve one’s country isn’t as a soldier on a sunlight battlefield, but as just another unfortunate shadow lurking in the night.” Murata opened his mouth to question what exactly Wolfram was talking about when Simon’s horse reared up slightly, drawing Wolfram’s attention. “Soldier?” Wolfram questioned firmly.

“Ah sorry Captain, a cat darted out in front of her, I’ve got her calmed back down now.”

“Well make sure you keep her that way, it wouldn’t do to injure one of the civilians because you couldn’t keep your horse in check.”

“Yes sir!” Murata stared at the soldier in annoyance; there weren’t any cats around that he could see.

“Fine, the inn is just ahead; hopefully they’ll have some space available.” They were in luck the inn did have a number of rooms open. After a quick discussion it was decided that Murata and Wolfram would share one room and the others would share the adjacent room. They took dinner in the inn’s tavern, Wolfram and his men playing the hard working soldiers enjoying a night off while Murata observed the trio. It was odd, Murata thought, he’d been sure that away from the castle Wolfram would start showing signs of depression at the very least. Yet there he was laughing and carrying on with his men like anyone would. He wondered if perhaps the blond hadn’t been as attached to Yuri as he’d thought, or a least maybe his condition wasn’t as grave as it seemed.

It didn’t take long to finish their meal and they headed up the inn’s well worn stairs to their rooms. Murata continued to turn the puzzle that was Wolfram von Bielefeld over in his head as he nodded a good night to the soldiers. It wasn’t till he was alone with the usually fiery blond that he noticed the former prince’s steps become heavy and uneven. It seemed to take great effort for Wolfram to reach one of the beds in the room and promptly fling himself upon it.

“Tired?” Murata accepted the not so playful glare he received in response. “You’ll only exhaust your self sooner trying to keep up a pace like the one today.”

“Sore already?” Wolfram asked mockingly as Murata forced his face to remain neutral, apparently the blond had noticed his slight limp from the ride. “Don’t worry, one more good day of riding and we can slow down as much as you want.” As he spoke, Wolfram sat up slowly and slipped off his boots.

“If we are just going to slow down why ride like chased men for two days?” Murata watched as Wolfram turned away from him and shucked his blue jacket, laying the sturdy fabric out at the foot of his bed. The moonlight spilled into the room from a partially uncovered window, lighting the blond’s features even as it cast shadows all around him. Perhaps if the double black had been born simply Murata Ken then the sight might have inspired him to write sappy poetry concerning angels, moon nymphs, and love; however, all the Great Sage could see was the shell of a man that had accepted his fate horrible as it may be. Murata opened his mouth to tell Wolfram that he didn’t need an answer when the blond spoke.

“We should be outside the area my men and I usually patrol by tomorrow night… it will be easier then.” The information tumbled around in Murata’s head for a few seconds before the meaning clicked. They’d be outside their patrol area and outside of the area where Wolfram would be recognized on sight. Needing to know what else he could pry out of the blond, Murata prepared to rile Wolfram.

“So running from the rumor mill is it? Never thought I’d see the proud Lord Bielefeld running from a few gossiping housewives.” The comment certainly sparked a flame in Wolfram as the soldier leapt off the bed to point angrily at Murata.

“Now see here! I’m not running from any busy body with to much time on her hands. I… *cough*” Wolfram’s rant was cut short by a round of short wet coughs that left him staggering backward as he covered his mouth.

“Shit, Wolfram!” Murata rushed to the blond’s side, worried that his aggravation had set off the fit. It passed as quickly as it started, leaving Wolfram sitting on the edge of the bed with his hand still covering his mouth. “Are you alright?”

“I…,” Wolfram’s voice came muffled through his fingers, “I think so.” The words were at odds with the panicked look in Wolfram’s eyes and the hand that still lingered over his mouth.

“Oh sorry I couldn’t understand you,” Murata forced a cheery tone into his words as he sat down next to Wolfram, “Maybe you should try talking without something in the way.” For a long moment Murata was sure Wolfram wouldn’t move his hand simply out of spite. However, Wolfram let his hand drop ever so slowly, causing to Murata to curse when he saw the blond’s palm. Thick half congealed blood sat ominously on the pale skin of Wolfram’s hand. Murata cursed again when he looked up to look a Wolfram’s face. A fine spray of blood surrounded the dark smears of the stuff from where he’d held his hand against his face.

“I… ah,” Wolfram mumbled as he stumbled to his feet and made his way to the washstand in the corner of the room, “That’s… It’s happening sooner than I thought.” As the blond poured water in the basin, Murata stared at him aghast. The water tinged pink as Wolfram rinsed his hands. In his previous life Murata had witnessed several people suffering from Mausetot poisoning; coughing up blood was a sign of highly progressed corruption.

“You… you really shouldn’t be traveling like this. You’re just going to make it worse.”

“Worse?” Wolfram turned sharply, blood still staining his face, “Worse! I’m a walking corpse; it doesn’t get much worse than that.”

“But you don’t have to be,” Murata held out his hands in a calming manner, “We’ll turn around in the morning, Shibuya will marry you and everything will be,” the crash of Wolfram flipping the wash basin on to the floor cut Murata off.

“Don’t you say it! Nothing will be ok, not for me. I’m going to die and Yuri will find some conniving slip of a woman to warm his bed. I’ll not be married out of pity or guilt. I’ve spent enough of my life being pitied or hated. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll wait around to see when Yuri’s pity turns to resentment and revulsion.” Wolfram ranted, letting out some of the anger that had been plaguing him.

“Wolfram,” Murata let the name slip from his lips as gently as he could manage, “I don’t think Shibuya even has the capacity for hate, sure he may balk at some things, but he really does care for you.”

“Hah I know he cares,” Wolfram spit out the word like a curse, “just like he cares for Aou or Belar or every idiot who has tried to assassinate him. He’s already made it clear that he has no desire to marry another man, let alone me.” Wolfram seemed to deflate, sinking to his knees.

“You love him?” Murata sighed at the ‘what the hell do you think’ look Wolfram turned his way. “Ah …” Silence reigned for a few moments as Wolfram stared at ground crossly.

“I,” Wolfram started angrily, before taking a deep breath in attempt to calm himself and starting again, “I never wanted to… to love him. I never wanted to love anyone; love is a useless burden that never rewards as much as it takes.”

“You can’t control your heart like that, as advantageous as it would be to do so.”

“Don’t you think I know that,” Wolfram hissed out, whipping around to glower at the Sage, “I’ve watched mother throw herself at men for decades and I’ve been doing the same damn thing with... with Yuri. Shit, we went through all that, the boxes, Shinou, Soushu, Yuri leaving then coming back and it still ends like this,” Wolfram’s shoulders slumped as he finished and trudged back to the bed, blood still adorning his face.

“You never know the end until it’s already past, that’s one thing I’m sure of, so you can’t really say this is how it ends yet.” Murata spoke slowly and steadily as he cleaned up the mess from the water basin and dampened a cloth from the still standing pitcher. “There are plans and forces out there that not even I, in all my sage-ly wisdom, can even hope to understand.” Taking the cloth in one hand and gingerly cupping Wolfram’s chin in the other, Murata wiped the specks of blood away from the blond’s mouth.

“But what happens when you stop being needed for those plans?” Wolfram whispered, averting his eyes, “I’ve got a feeling that I’ve finished my usefulness.” At a loss for any helpful bits of advice, Murata pulled Wolfram into a protective hug. He nestled his chin into blond waves as Wolfram’s repressed sobs shook both their frames. A storm of curses at so called higher beings floated through Murata’s mind as Wolfram fought against his emotions. He was going to do whatever he could to keep Wolfram alive, he hadn’t been able to save Shinou, but he’d save Wolfram, if only to spite fate.

*****
AN: Well I hope ya'll enjoyed that bit of porn/comedy/depression. See ya next chapter!!