Voiceless

Title: Fantasies

Pairing: Wolfram X Yuri

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: It’s their honeymoon people…

Summary: Check Warning

Chapter Number: #38

Author Note: Exams…viruses…illnesses…lack-of-inspiration…relatives…need I say more? My apologies for the delay. Please enjoy this romantic chapter as an apology for my delay. I haven’t forgotten you, I’ve just been lazy…I mean busy

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They had been given a beach house of sorts to stay in. It was made of stone, had only one floor, but was spacious and was filled with anything and everything they’d need for the duration of their stay. There was food; there were clothes all ready put away and organized. They had books to read incase they became bored, and the bathroom was positively overflowing with soaps, perfumes, and shampoos. There were two bedrooms in the house, one large and the other small. Wolfram opted to take the smaller of the two and Yuri allowed it for the simple knowledge that, no matter what, Wolfram was going to end up in his room one way or another.

“I can’t believe that I fainted,” Wolfram grumbled for the third time since they’d arrived at their own private house, discounting the countless times he mentioned it before they arrived, and on the way, and before they even left the castle…before he even left the room after waking up. “That’s something they’d all expect from a wimp like you!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Yuri insisted. “At least no one caught it on tape.” He ignored Wolfram’s half annoyed stare and continued observing the waves that lapped lazily against the shore. It was so cliché, he thought, being on a beach for his honeymoon.

“I fainted within minutes of becoming the husband of the Demon King! It’ll go down in records and I’ll be the laughingstock of the entire kingdom! Maybe-maybe even the entire world!”

“You won’t be laughed at on Earth,” Yuri commented, offering the hot-tempered blonde a smile.

“Yeah, if you can keep from telling everyone that is.” Wolfram fell down onto the couch, reclining against one of its arms and stretching his legs out to cover the entire surface.

“Oh, come on,” Yuri said tiredly. “Why would I do something like that?”

“Because you get such a kick out of it,” Wolfram huffed. Yuri didn’t answer, but smiled as he watched Wolfram stew in his own embarrassment. It was both cute and refreshing in its own little way. Refreshing because it was nice to see Wolfram’s head so clear that he could only find one small, meaningless thing to worry about, and cute because…well, just because. It was endearing to see Wolfram’s eyes possessing only embarrassment and the slightest traces of bliss beneath the pointless mortification. “So what do we do now?” Wolfram asked after several minutes of silence. Yuri shrugged and looked back at the scenery, or so it appeared. In the reflection of the glass he could see Wolfram stand slowly and move towards him with his hands hidden in his pockets.

“I don’t know,” Yuri answered casually as Wolfram moved to stand beside him. “We could eat, I guess.” Wolfram hummed in reply.

“I could go for that,” he answered, his eyes filling with calm as he watched the sky above the water turn a shade of lavender.

“But then what?” Yuri asked. It was strange for him to have free time, and as the day turned to night there was little to do on the island that retired early. There was no work to be done, no one to save, no emotional distress in his fiancé/husband to correct, no consoling to be done, just time to spend with Wolfram and the other devices present within the house.

“Sleep?” Wolfram suggested, turning his eyes to look at Yuri’s reflection in the glass. Yuri met his reflected gaze and smiled.

“Alright, but you have to help me cook something.” Wolfram made a face, but followed his husband as he walked towards the small kitchen.

“Fine. What did they leave for us?” They scanned the contents of the room. Vegetables, fruits, a note saying that the butchers opened early, bread, butter, cutlery, water, and alcohol.

“Feeling in the mood for a salad?” Yuri asked, staring at option and frowning, wondering if it this was someone’s way of informing him that he needed to eat healthier or that he was getting fat. Wolfram grabbed a fruit off of the counter and bit into it.

“Not really,” he said whilst chewing. “But fruit is fine.” He gestured to the rest of the produce that rested on the counter. “Eat something, Yuri. Otherwise you’ll get sick.” Yuri complied, grabbing the same fruit as Wolfram, taking a bite, and realizing at once that it was a mistake. The bitter fruit left him ridiculously thirsty, but he felt obliged to finish it after Wolfram kept asking if he liked it, coming to the conclusion on his own that he didn’t, and then scolding himself for not telling the service that set the place up to leave the vile fruit out.

“We’ll just have to go to the market tomorrow and get what we need,” Yuri said, trying to chase away Wolfram’s sudden glum. “It’ll be our first time in public as a couple,” he added, watching Wolfram’s eyes light up. “Well, aside from the wedding and our trip here.” Wolfram blushed slightly and grabbed another fruit off of the counter and began eating it slowly. When Yuri’s eyes passed over his shoulder and out the window, Wolfram turned to regard the view as well, feeling content.

“Do you want to go sit by the water?” He asked. Yuri nodded, grabbed a different fruit off of the counter and they moved towards the back door which faced the beach and the open view of the sunset.

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They’d shared a kiss, a brief and gentle one, but that was when things changed. What had been calm became serious, what had been relaxing became borderline traumatic. They’d parted at the conclusion of their small kiss, their lips touching less than they had at their wedding, and in that fragment of time Wolfram’s eyes met Yuri’s and saw them change. The pupils narrowed and he’d panicked. He’d pulled away from Yuri’s arms which had encircled him just as he’d always secretly dreamed about and cried out. Not loud enough to attract attention, but loud enough to pull Yuri back to the surface.

He couldn’t explain it, Yuri hadn’t known that it had happened and Wolfram became uncertain whether it had simply been a trick of the light. Either way, he began to wonder what he had started by marrying Yuri without formally asking the maou. Didn’t he deserve a say? And if he did and it had been denied, didn’t he have the right to interject the sweetly intimate moment? He had forgiven the maou for what he had done; he’d had to in order to be able to regard Yuri with the same loving eyes as he had before.

The more he thought the more he couldn’t bear to look into Yuri’s confused eyes. Those eyes burned, those eyes made him think. A rape turned to passion on another night under different circumstances. What right did he have to marry Yuri? His mind kept flashing to them, both of the nights he spent with Yuri’s other side. It was a lie for Yuri to say it didn’t bother him! If that was a lie, what else was? He wanted to run, but it was an island. There was water too broad to swim across. He was trapped.

“Wolfram, you need to relax,” Yuri said, grabbing the blonde’s hand when he tried to stand to run. “You’re scaring me. What’s the matter?” But if it was all a lie, then why was there love as well as concern in Yuri’s eyes? There was no way to feign that much love.

The past needed to be forgotten. He’d forgiven the maou for the torture, the maou would forgive him for sharing his love with his alter ego. Maybe there would be pain, and maybe there wouldn’t. For Yuri, Wolfram decided, he would have to be strong. He wanted to be. He refused to allow himself to be chased away once he’d gotten so close to the fruit of his happiness. He would have to forget. Forget everything before that moment except for what made him love the man he was with.

“I want to go back inside,” Wolfram said with forced calm. “It’s getting dark and I’m…tired.” He had to think. He’d almost said afraid, but he didn’t feel afraid. If anything, he felt like he should be afraid, but wasn’t anymore. Like he’d been afraid because he’d been told to be. Like feigning surprise when the secret has been leaked. When he was with Yuri he didn’t have to fake anything. He hadn’t from the start, not even politeness, and somehow Yuri still loved him.

“Okay,” Yuri said, getting up from his seat on the ground. “It’s getting chilly anyway.” Wolfram smiled and walked with Yuri into their home and had an overwhelming sense of matrimony. It was like being just a couple. Not a noble couple, not like the Demon King and the prince. He felt average for the first time and, in all honesty…he liked it.

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“What does this ring mean?” Wolfram asked as they lie together on the bed. It wasn’t a large bed, certainly nothing like the ones they had at home that left room for at least two rows of four people. No, this one had just enough room for one row of two and possibly half of a person severed down the middle. The sheets were a dark blue, Wolfram noted. A better colour to disguise stains.

“What do you mean?” Yuri asked, taking Wolfram’s hand into his own and observing the blonde’s wedding ring. He’d been twisting it around his finger continuously since they’d moved into the bedroom on a silent command. They both knew what they were supposed to be doing, but were also aware that neither of them knew how to carry through with the task.

“Well, when it’s with yours…yours bends—see?” Wolfram pulled off his ring and grabbed for Yuri’s. Once both were in his hands he placed them together, just as Yuri had at their wedding, showing how Yuri’s ring’s path altered when Wolfram’s pressed against it. “What does it mean?” Yuri regarded him with unhappy eyes that glistened with a bit of wonder and a fair amount of confusion. Wolfram knew what the rings meant to him. It signified how he had made the Demon King go out of his way to assuage his spoiled and needy demands.

“What does it mean to you?” Yuri asked, forcing Wolfram to meet his gaze even though the blonde seemed set against it. “Come on, tell me.”

“It means that…you changed for me,” Wolfram said softly. When he spoke it, generalized it, it didn’t sound bad, but the more he dwelled on it, the more poisonous the words became. “That I forced you to bend against your will so that you fit with me.” That I cut the wrong puzzle piece to make it complete the picture, even if it wasn’t right.

“Wow,” Yuri said, taking the rings and separating them. “How do you get that out of these?” He asked with a soft laugh that made Wolfram’s face turn red. “Really, they’re completely identical rings, and that’s why they fit together so well.” Making sure to keep his eye locked on the ring that had originally been his own, Yuri switched the position of the rings so that his, which had been on the left side, moved to the right, giving the illusion that it was now Wolfram’s ring that was being altered to fit the demands of Yuri’s. “See? They’re interchangeable.” He separated the rings and dropped Wolfram’s back into his hand and slid his own ring back onto his finger with a soft smile.

Wolfram could think of nothing to say. He’d considered spitting out that it was quite cheap of the Demon King to purchase such simple rings that they each had exactly the same one and follow the statement with an inquiry about why he didn’t just purchase one ring and insist that they share, but didn’t want to. All he could ponder was how, when their positions were switched, it appeared that he was the one who was forced to change for Yuri, and he guessed that he had. Well, he wasn’t forced to, but it seemed that way sometimes.

After a moment he decided to accept Yuri’s interpretation. The rings were just symbols of how two similar things should become part of a set. A pair. (Though he didn’t like the identical aspect, he found himself harboring many of his own unique and beautiful traits and skills that the Demon King hadn’t even the smallest hints of.)

“Interchangeable,” Wolfram echoed. “But that makes that question harder to answer,” he said with strange undertones of an emotion Yuri didn’t know if he wanted to guess at. Those eyes narrowed in a mischievous fashion making them look far too much like Lady Celi’s.

“Really, Wolfram?” Yuri asked, becoming flustered a looking away as the blonde leaned closer to him and rested his head on his shoulder almost heavily. “You have to follow up my attempts to reassure you with a statement like that?” Wolfram just hummed in reply.

It wasn’t that he was enjoying making attempts to be seductive, he was just tired of dodging the issue. They were going to gave to figure it all out sooner or later and he was tired of avoiding it. One of them had to take charge and he knew that Yuri wasn’t going to do it. Given their circumstances, Wolfram would have been surprised if Yuri wasn’t terrified of making the first move. After what had happened between him and maou he had to be afraid initiating anything because there was always the chance that he, Wolfram, was still not fully recovered, that he was afraid, that he wasn’t ready to do that and would feel pressured if Yuri asked.

He didn’t like playing the role of a lusty newlywed, but someone had to! Someone had to break the tension and damn it Wolfram would not let the night end it ruins because Yuri was too much of a wimp!

“What?” Wolfram purred. “Am I not allowed to ask?” He leaned on Yuri further, enjoying the warmth accompanying the closeness and forced his mind to block out any doubts he had. Anytime a question would bubble to the surface—what if Yuri doesn’t want this, doesn’t want me?—he blocked it. Any doubts—he really did this just to quiet me—he forced them out in the form of kisses along the line of his husband’s jaw.

“Y-you’re allowed to ask,” Yuri stammered, forcing distance between the touchy-feely blond and himself by holding him at arms’ length by his shoulders. “It’s just—”

“Awkward?” Wolfram asked, pursing his lips in the pouting way he saw his mother do so often. Being the son of a sexy woman paid off, whether she was a queen or a simple peasant. He learned a few tricks over the years and they seemed to be working on his love.

“Well no, but…embarrassing—stop that!” Yuri pulled Wolfram’s straying hand away and pushed it back towards the demon’s own body extracting a huff from the man who turned his head away sharply, his blonde hair swaying on the air unfairly.

“Oh, Yuri,” Wolfram breathed with false ecstasy, falling forward so his head landed on Yuri’s chest.

“Don’t you ‘oh, Yuri’ me!” Yuri grumbled. He allowed Wolfram to remain that way and encircled his body with his arms and pulled him closer, extracting a contented sigh from his growth.

“Then ‘oh, Wolfram’ me,” the blonde said, looking up and winking lecherously. Yuri grumbled and then let out a sigh.

The entire situation was uncomfortable, and that was all Yuri could concentrate on. Wolfram had long since abandoned acting like himself and he didn’t feel right attempting to pull him out of it. If this odd behavior was Wolfram’s defense mechanism in regards to sex then he had no right to tear it down. All he needed to do was figure out what had to be done would be done and then things could go back to normal…at least he hoped. But he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Well, he did, and Wolfram was already showing the role he was willing to play very well, but Yuri still had his doubts. He didn’t know the first thing about being suave and seductive, and to just ambush his partner didn’t seem right either. At least Wolfram knew how to be flirtatious about it!

But Wolfram already knew what was going to happen to him. He wasn’t a naïve, sheltered virgin unaware of male anatomy and in need of reassurance about what was to go where. If he’d ever been that innocent, the maou had stolen it from him. And when it came to secondary virginity…the maou had stolen that too.

So he should just make a move…kiss him, wrap his arms around him, hold him so close that both of them have trouble breathing…and then?

That was the problem! He knew he couldn’t let Wolfram go on planting kisses all over his face and running his hands in places that weren’t exactly desired at that precise moment alone for much longer. Wolfram was playing the role of the female, but what if he didn’t want to? What if he was just doing it because he felt that he didn’t have another choice? What if, behind eyes coated with nothing but lust, there was nothing but fear. Fear of the pain that was going to ensue. Fear of being rejected if he wasn’t good enough. Fear of being abandoned if he petitioned for any other position.

“Don’t you…want me, Yuri?” Wolfram asked abruptly, pulling away and replacing the seductive expression on his face with one of pain.

What could he say to that?

Nothing.

He could say nothing to him that would fix that look.

If he said “of course” like he wanted to, Wolfram would expect him to add on another statement to explain reasons why he wouldn’t have him. And if he didn’t speak to add on, Wolfram would believe him to be hiding it. If he said anything it would ruin it. Wolfram would get self-conscious, he’d have to. It was in his nature.

If he said anything at all the night would spoil.

He couldn’t speak, he had to act. So, he kissed him. He wrapped his arms around Wolfram tightly and held him so close that both of them have trouble breathing. He listened to the instructions in his mind and to the quiet and short gasps that Wolfram emitted in the short moments when their lips weren’t touching. After that, Yuri had to do what was necessary.

He had to close off any questions that came to mind. What if Wolfram didn’t want—then why was he moaning and looking at him like that? With those eyes that were just begging for it? He moved so Wolfram fell back against the pillows. They were white pillows, soft pillows, that made a nice contrast to the dark sheets. The whiteness helped illuminate all of the colour in Wolfram’s face. The yellow hair, the green eyes, the thick black lashes, the reddened cheeks. He was beautiful.

Did he look like this for the maou?

He ignored the question like he was supposed to. Of course he didn’t look like that for the maou! These were the eyes he reserved only for his husband! His husband!

The maou was not his husband!

He couldn’t have him. It was Yuri’s body and even if another mind was attempting to share it, that was all it could have. It could use his body, but not his husband. Wolfram was his now. He wouldn’t share. No matter what, even if his life depended on it Wolfram was not going to be with anyone else.

Even if Wolfram wanted to.

If he wanted to do that he could leave. He could just…just leave.

Yuri ran kisses down Wolfram’s throat, listening to the noises that the blonde made was making the questions and the doubts easier to forget. This was his husband, this was his honeymoon. It wasn’t his shirt that he was pulling off, but it was his husband’s chest that he was touching. The only question that remained after that was why the man wasn’t in that cute nightgown. It would’ve made things so much easier.

No buttons to unfasten, no need to have to move from between his husbands legs to pull the meddlesome clothes away and toss them across the comfortably small room. He should’ve been wearing that nightdress. He hadn’t realized before how oddly becoming the garment was, now that all he could picture was Wolfram wearing it.

He guessed it was alright to be having fantasies about his lover while preparing to make love to him, but wasn’t it always better that have the fantasies come true? It wouldn’t be hard, just tell him to go put it on. But that would be awkward. How would he word it without making Wolfram uneasy? If he just said “Hey, put your nightdress on” wouldn’t Wolfram think he was implying that he was done with what they were doing and no longer had any interest in relieving him of the burden burning between his legs.

He’d have to save that fantasy for later. The next night maybe? The same night? The next morning? At dawn? The very instant the sun started to consider rising? Did it matter? No. All that mattered was that, when he placed his hand between Wolfram’s legs the man gasped, his eyes fluttered and then started begging.

That wasn’t right. It was cruel to make him beg, because when he begged his eyes looked uncertain. Like he thought that, for sure, Yuri was going to get up and walk out and he had to plead with him not to go, to carry on, to please, please, please.

Oh how he hated it. One moment Wolfram had been in control, and the next he was reduced to begging. He’d gotten rid of the Demon King’s shirt at the same time the Demon King had ridded him of his pants and now he was left begging. But it felt good, he had to. The warmth that radiated from Yuri’s hand to his most sensitive flesh wasn’t something he wanted to let leave. They hadn’t said much to each other and Wolfram feared that Yuri might falter—might believe that he had taken it too far and hadn’t given Wolfram a say.

Well Wolfram had a say, and his say was saying to keep going. If it stopped he was going to die, he was so certain of it. So what could he do? He had to consider his own pride? Begging like this was humiliating, even if it made Yuri stroke him with so much affection. Couldn’t he find something better to say than pleads? Than the Demon King’s name?

Of course! There were commands. Stop asking and order!

“Take me,” Wolfram said, his voice like glass in Yuri’s ears. He sounded mad and, sure enough, when Yuri looked down to his eyes from a lock of golden hair that he was considering petting, he looked mad too. He’d lost his patience, which was so much like Wolfram that Yuri thought he might laugh. The charade was over and it hadn’t even lasted long. “I know you know how,” Wolfram added, reclining his head back farther exposing more of his throat and less of his angered eyes.

Yuri placed his mouth on the side of Wolfram’s neck and simultaneously tugged the man’s undergarments away extracting a long sigh that faded into a frustrated groan. Wolfram raised his hips, but with Yuri’s body too far above him to press against he dropped them back down heavily and made a sound too much like a growl making Yuri abandon his returning idea to ask Wolfram to please put on the nightdress.

He ridded himself of his remaining clothes while trying to keep Wolfram occupied before he could become any more impatient and demanding. Being glared at, commanded to act, and a growled at was enough to make Yuri hasten his pace. Maybe Wolfram hadn’t been looking for much more after being kissed, hugged, and held. He just wanted made love to, he didn’t care about what came between holding and the rest.

Yuri didn’t mind, it was less to worry about. But, when he finally pressed against Wolfram’s opening, everything swam back. Wolfram inhaled sharply, but it didn’t seem to be from anxiety or pleasure. His eyes looked worried for a moment, and then, after catching Yuri’s uncertain gaze, darted away.

“Wolfram,” Yuri started, feeling sick to his stomach. “Are you sure that—”

“Just don’t hurt me,” Wolfram said, his eyes turning back at Yuri’s looking firm. “Because if you do I’ll strangle you with my necktie and be a widow by dawn.” He winked, and that was the end of it. Yuri knew that if he said more, Wolfram would get upset while, at that moment, he was just reserved.

“Alright,” Yuri said, smiling softly and placing a kiss on the side of Wolfram’s mouth before pressing against him harder. The blonde exhaled heavily and stared past Yuri and up at the ceiling, his face contorting with many different things until, at last, that part of it was over. The worst and most graceless part was finished.

There was no room left for second thoughts because, when that part of his body was surrounded by so much heat there was no turning back. Yuri was only burdened with the question that, if Wolfram asked him to stop, would he be able to? When Wolfram finally made eye contact, with eyes filled with lust and affection, Yuri was sure that if it was asked of him he could comply easily. When Wolfram’s eyes lost the affection and lost the desire Yuri would have nothing to go on with.

He wasn’t the maou. If Wolfram looked hurt he’d stop. He wouldn’t disregard Wolfram as if his body were simply a tool used to give him pleasure. Wolfram was more than that.

So, when their eyes met Yuri knew that it was safe to move. He had to go slowly, but it wasn’t hard when Wolfram’s legs were wrapped so firmly around his waste that he nearly seemed to be the one in control. If he wanted Yuri still then he crossed his legs in a fashion that had him pinned, if he was to move than his hips moved with him. It wasn’t long before the previously quiet pants turned loud, Wolfram making the most noise—as was his nature.

Wolfram could think of nothing else. When Yuri’s hands touched him they were Yuri’s hands. He didn’t think of the maou, he didn’t see him in Yuri’s silly, confused eyes. When Yuri thrust into him at the speed that he wanted he felt only Yuri. He felt love. He felt no tears and no pain that he didn’t welcome happily. With Yuri’s hand pumping him and his body shifting in perfect harmony with the body above him what else was there to dream of? Maybe if Yuri had on…that wig. The odd coloured one he wore when he pretended to be a human.

Why did that make him moan so loud? It really was a weird colour, but when he wore it he looked…better. He looked…less like the Demon King. Someone that was supposed to be of a higher status than himself. He was a Lord, but Yuri was a King. If Yuri wore that wig and was a human wouldn’t that make Wolfram the one in charge?

Why was that thought so appealing? Combining it with the feelings of motion inside him, he began panting harder and faster, making Yuri wonder if he was about to hyperventilate and pass out. But before a repeat of their wedding could occur, a shutter raced through Wolfram’s body that turned his breath to a jagged moan.

Yuri pressed their lips together firmly, letting one hand caress the blonde hair he’d been admiring and the other to run quickly up Wolfram’s length in time with his own thrusts into the intense heat of his noisy lover’s body. Wolfram began kissing back heavily, pressing his tongue against Yuri’s lips and then tongue once the king opened his mouth to allow it.

So what if he wasn’t wearing that wig? When he closed his eyes he could see it and that made all of the feelings stronger. Repeatedly he was able to pin down Yuri’s tongue. He was stronger than the king—he was the Lord and Yuri was just a human. He was the one with the power, even if the human was atop him. As the hand enveloping his length began to move faster, he began to loose himself in the human’s touch. Especially when a bold thumb traced the weeping tip and swirled around it excessively.

Wolfram’s body clenched tightly, increasing the heat and increasing the friction that had Yuri going mad. It was everything, positively everything good. There was warmth, love, pleasure, so much pleasure and satisfaction. There was no way the maou could have seen that look in Wolfram’s eyes. The look he had before his eyes clenched shut and his throat tore with the only moan that Wolfram had attempted to suppress as the warm seed spilled into Yuri’s unprepared hand—that look was beautiful.

Even if the maou had seen it, it wouldn’t have made sense to him. He could never understand that type of beauty, beauty born from consensual actions. He had upstaged the maou, except he was quite sure the maou had seen him in that nightdress.

Just picturing him in that gown again, sticking to him tightly because of his sweat, showing off his hipbones that were so nicely shaped. Who needed lingerie when the sweat made the formerly shapeless dress show off the curves? And what if he pulled it up slowly, just until showed a tiny glimpse of what Yuri already had in his hand?

With a final thrust his vision was shattered as Wolfram’s lips stifled his climactic moan—it was all the blonde demon could do to distract himself from the unpleasantness of the sting.

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After a long while, Yuri finally mustered the energy he needed to pull away. Wolfram sighed with what could have been the remnants of pleasure or relief, Yuri wasn’t sure, and then turned onto his side stiffly.

“Hey Wolfram,” Yuri pressed after several minutes of silence during which he was certain that the blonde was trying to use to go to sleep. Wolfram answered with a long, irritable groan, but didn’t move. “Did you bring your nightgown?” He got another groan as an answer, but it sounded positive. “Can you put it on?” Wolfram grunted, sat up swiftly and looked at Yuri in a softly murderous way.

“What for!?” He shouted. “Is something bothering you!” Yuri shrugged.

“I just want you to put it on, that’s all.” Wolfram stared him in the eyes for a long time before finally registering that he was serious.

“You’re such a wimp. It’s in one of the drawers. If you go get it I’ll put it on.” Wolfram grumbled to himself and watched, as if humored, as Yuri sifted through their dresser drawers hastily until pulling out the long, pink nightdress and tossing it to him.

After he’d pulled it on, only slightly unsettled by Yuri’s staring eyes, Yuri looked him over as if he were a statue in a museum and then turned out the lights before crawling back into bed.

“Hey Yuri?” Wolfram pressed after the Demon King began to pull him close into an embrace while lying on the seemingly burning sheets.

“What is it?” Yuri asked, nuzzling Wolfram’s damp hair gently.

“You don’t happen to have that wig you wear when we go to the…human territories, do you?” Wolfram asked sleepily, followed by a yawn.

“I don’t think so,” Yuri answered uneasily. “I might…why?” Wolfram didn’t answer. “Why?” Yuri shook him by his shoulder and got a loud groan as a response. “Wolfram!”

“I’m sleeping!” The blonde cried, shoving Yuri away hard and snuggling, instead, with the pillow that didn’t shout at him.

Sighing, Yuri laid close to Wolfram’s body, but waited until he was sure the man was asleep before scooting closer and draping an arm over his body to pull him closer.

He liked this…the closeness, the love, the warmth, the marriage, the house. The dress was a nice touch, and not wearing that itchy wig was a nice touch too, what was that about?

It was Wolfram, Yuri decided, so who knew?

FIN

~Alice Von Wonderland

Closing Note: This took way too long, I apologize, but it’s a very long chapter and there were so many distractions. I’m ending the fic here, no more needs to be said. Sure, the maou could have some epic appearance, but he’s no longer needed. He did his job of forcing the two together through tragedy. He has no protests.

I do hope you enjoyed reading this. I spent more attention on this fic than I did with any of my other stories. I did my best to keep things in perspective, trying to avoid an entirely AU OOC disorder. Though, I hope the nightdress and wig were a nice touch. I don’t know why the lemon in this is so drawn out…so drawn out. I had a lot I wanted to say and I think I picked a bad place to put it, but you know me. I can’t just do a lemon. There has to be meaning!

Regardless,

Good night…

Until I write a new story…

Alice Von Wonderland