Waiting for You
Feb. 22nd, 2006 01:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akainagiWaiting for You
Author: AkaiNAgi
Rating: G
Pairing: Kyou Kara Maou, Yuuri/Wolfram
Word/Prompt: Wait/Angst
X-Posted:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
wordclaim50 and like whoa
If there was a reason to hate Yuuri, besides the fact that he was an incurable wimp and an incorrigible flirt, it was because he had forever ruined for Wolfram the pleasure of sleeping in his own bed.
The boy whose sleeping habits had once been likened by his fiancé to a “comatose rock with epilepsy” glared at the adjacent empty pillow. The moonlight shining through the window illuminated the stark white bed linen. The blond burrowed under the covers. It was better down here, warm and dark. He didn’t have to look at the gaping void on the other side of the ridiculously large bed he usually shared with his king and fiancé. Didn’t have to see that there was no inky-black head on the pillow next to him.
Yuuri had been gone for the better part of a month, transported by swirling waters back to his own world. Right now, Wolfram told himself, Yuri was happily living a full life without him. Probably flirting with anything on two legs. Glad to be cut free from the troublesome fiancé he unwittingly had saddled himself with. Of course he wouldn’t give a thought to the boy who was lying, a world away, spending another sleepless night thinking of him. And why should he? Yuuri had never made a secret of the fact that he would dearly love to be rid of his betrothed. Wolfram was too clingy, too jealous, too loud, and, above all, not a girl. And even if he could change his jealousy, his volume level and his possessive nature, he could never overcome the fact that he was a man.
Why did he continue to torture himself like this? Why hang on when would never have Yuuri, not in all the ways that mattered. It was becoming too much; this giving and never getting, wanting but never having. Wolfram curled tighter under the covers. His eyes burned behind the tightly squeezed lids. From lack of sleep. That was all. He wasn’t crying. Certainly not because of some wimpy, adulterous king, betrothed or no. He wasn’t curled under the covers, pining for unrequited love. And he wasn’t so lost in his misery that the sound of his door flying open made him come a good foot off the bed.
Not at all.
It was times like these he was glad Yuuri had browbeaten him into wearing bedclothes again. It wouldn’t do to have Gunter see him stark naked, even if Gunter himself was standing in his doorway wearing a diaphanous nightgown that made Wolfram's sleepwear look unisex by comparison.
“What! What is it? Are we under attack?” Wolfram barked. Soldier instincts taking over, he was already out of bed, his heart beating fast, his body poised for a fight. Or if not a fight, at least giving Gunter a good pounding for disturbing his nocturnal brooding.
Gunter’s face took on a blissful expression that could only mean one thing. “Our beloved Heika has returned to us!” the man crooned.
Wolfram’s heart leapt in a totally different way. Yuuri. Yuuri was back. Back from the other world. Back to his throne. Back to his fiancé. Back to his bed.
Me, Wolfram thought viciously as he bodily shoved Gunter out of the room and began hastily yanking on his clothes. He’s coming back to me.
And as he grabbed his sword and sprinted through the castle, he thought of the nights to come, with a soot-colored head next to him on the pillow, soft breathing beside him and grumpy black eyes glaring at him in the morning. He grinned.
His life, which had been on hold, was beginning again.
Author: AkaiNAgi
Rating: G
Pairing: Kyou Kara Maou, Yuuri/Wolfram
Word/Prompt: Wait/Angst
X-Posted:
wordclaim50 and like whoaIf there was a reason to hate Yuuri, besides the fact that he was an incurable wimp and an incorrigible flirt, it was because he had forever ruined for Wolfram the pleasure of sleeping in his own bed.
The boy whose sleeping habits had once been likened by his fiancé to a “comatose rock with epilepsy” glared at the adjacent empty pillow. The moonlight shining through the window illuminated the stark white bed linen. The blond burrowed under the covers. It was better down here, warm and dark. He didn’t have to look at the gaping void on the other side of the ridiculously large bed he usually shared with his king and fiancé. Didn’t have to see that there was no inky-black head on the pillow next to him.
Yuuri had been gone for the better part of a month, transported by swirling waters back to his own world. Right now, Wolfram told himself, Yuri was happily living a full life without him. Probably flirting with anything on two legs. Glad to be cut free from the troublesome fiancé he unwittingly had saddled himself with. Of course he wouldn’t give a thought to the boy who was lying, a world away, spending another sleepless night thinking of him. And why should he? Yuuri had never made a secret of the fact that he would dearly love to be rid of his betrothed. Wolfram was too clingy, too jealous, too loud, and, above all, not a girl. And even if he could change his jealousy, his volume level and his possessive nature, he could never overcome the fact that he was a man.
Why did he continue to torture himself like this? Why hang on when would never have Yuuri, not in all the ways that mattered. It was becoming too much; this giving and never getting, wanting but never having. Wolfram curled tighter under the covers. His eyes burned behind the tightly squeezed lids. From lack of sleep. That was all. He wasn’t crying. Certainly not because of some wimpy, adulterous king, betrothed or no. He wasn’t curled under the covers, pining for unrequited love. And he wasn’t so lost in his misery that the sound of his door flying open made him come a good foot off the bed.
Not at all.
It was times like these he was glad Yuuri had browbeaten him into wearing bedclothes again. It wouldn’t do to have Gunter see him stark naked, even if Gunter himself was standing in his doorway wearing a diaphanous nightgown that made Wolfram's sleepwear look unisex by comparison.
“What! What is it? Are we under attack?” Wolfram barked. Soldier instincts taking over, he was already out of bed, his heart beating fast, his body poised for a fight. Or if not a fight, at least giving Gunter a good pounding for disturbing his nocturnal brooding.
Gunter’s face took on a blissful expression that could only mean one thing. “Our beloved Heika has returned to us!” the man crooned.
Wolfram’s heart leapt in a totally different way. Yuuri. Yuuri was back. Back from the other world. Back to his throne. Back to his fiancé. Back to his bed.
Me, Wolfram thought viciously as he bodily shoved Gunter out of the room and began hastily yanking on his clothes. He’s coming back to me.
And as he grabbed his sword and sprinted through the castle, he thought of the nights to come, with a soot-colored head next to him on the pillow, soft breathing beside him and grumpy black eyes glaring at him in the morning. He grinned.
His life, which had been on hold, was beginning again.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-22 05:29 am (UTC)I think the sleeping arrangement is one of the nicer touches in the relationship. I was getting scared for a while, because there was like twenty episodes where I didn't see Wolfie in the bed at all! I was beginning to think he gave up! And then one day they panned down and you saw him hanging off the end of the bed, half on the floor. To which I said: HOPE LIVES!