The Harsh Black of Night
Feb. 26th, 2006 05:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akainagiThe Harsh Black of Night
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
akainagi
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou, Yuuri/Wolfram
Rating: PG-13 for Yuuram groping and Konrad abuse
Word/Prompt: Wait/Epiphany
X-posted:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
wordclaim50 and like whoa
Konrad had always been the consummate soldier. While he had not been without fear (no one who rode into war was free of fear), he had never succumbed to the paralyzing terror of the battlefield. He had never been, like many of his fellows, frozen in horror at the grimness and sheer injustice of it all.
But he was frozen now.
“Yuuri! Not here, hennachokome! Wait! I thought I heard something.” The insistent whisper of Wolfram carried to his ears easily, echoing slightly in the cavernous stone halls of the castle.
The reply was muffled against the other boy’s neck. “Only if you’ll stop calling me a wimp,” Yuuri teased.
Wolfram’s back arched as much as it could with Yuuri grinding him into the wall. The blonde moaned raggedly. Apparently he approved of the King’s ministrations. “Wimp, wimp, wimp!” the Wolfram growled.
Yuuri laughed. “Then I guess they’ll just find us like this, won’t they?” The dark-haired boy fastened his lips on his lover’s ear, first nipping at the soft flush and then sucking tenderly.
Wolfram choked out a moan and clutched at Yuuri’s back so tightly it was like he wanted to blend them into one being. Konrad’s little brother was snaking his hands under Yuuri’s shirt, making it ride up and revealing a back littered with pale, criss-crossing lines.
‘Scratch marks,’ Konrad thought dumbly. Scratch marks that his own brother had no doubt put there in the throes of passion. ‘How long,’ he asked himself furiously. ‘How long has this been going on in front of me?”
Konrad sank further back onto the shadows that concealed him. He felt a fury rising in himself, traveling up his body and settling behind his eyes where it tinged everything an angry shade of red. He wanted to stalk over there and rip the two of them apart. The anger coursed through him, chased by a considerable amount of shame. This was his king. His king and his brother. What kind of man lusted after his little brother’s own fiancé? What kind of loyal vassal lusted after his boy-king? But the anger was there, burning in his gut and behind his eyes, shocking Konrad in its intensity. Konrad’s own image of himself as the benevolent protector and loyal subject evaporated like so much smoke. And when Wolfram gave up all pretense of resistance, bringing a leg up to welcome Yuuri into the cradle of his thighs, something hard and brittle broke in the older man.
He fled. Still, the tender moans and sighs followed him, echoing his head, and giving him no peace. He felt as if the whole of reality had been rearranged in those few short moments.
It’s not everyday you find that you’re not the man you thought you were.
Author:
akainagiFandom: Kyou Kara Maou, Yuuri/Wolfram
Rating: PG-13 for Yuuram groping and Konrad abuse
Word/Prompt: Wait/Epiphany
X-posted:
wordclaim50 and like whoaKonrad had always been the consummate soldier. While he had not been without fear (no one who rode into war was free of fear), he had never succumbed to the paralyzing terror of the battlefield. He had never been, like many of his fellows, frozen in horror at the grimness and sheer injustice of it all.
But he was frozen now.
“Yuuri! Not here, hennachokome! Wait! I thought I heard something.” The insistent whisper of Wolfram carried to his ears easily, echoing slightly in the cavernous stone halls of the castle.
The reply was muffled against the other boy’s neck. “Only if you’ll stop calling me a wimp,” Yuuri teased.
Wolfram’s back arched as much as it could with Yuuri grinding him into the wall. The blonde moaned raggedly. Apparently he approved of the King’s ministrations. “Wimp, wimp, wimp!” the Wolfram growled.
Yuuri laughed. “Then I guess they’ll just find us like this, won’t they?” The dark-haired boy fastened his lips on his lover’s ear, first nipping at the soft flush and then sucking tenderly.
Wolfram choked out a moan and clutched at Yuuri’s back so tightly it was like he wanted to blend them into one being. Konrad’s little brother was snaking his hands under Yuuri’s shirt, making it ride up and revealing a back littered with pale, criss-crossing lines.
‘Scratch marks,’ Konrad thought dumbly. Scratch marks that his own brother had no doubt put there in the throes of passion. ‘How long,’ he asked himself furiously. ‘How long has this been going on in front of me?”
Konrad sank further back onto the shadows that concealed him. He felt a fury rising in himself, traveling up his body and settling behind his eyes where it tinged everything an angry shade of red. He wanted to stalk over there and rip the two of them apart. The anger coursed through him, chased by a considerable amount of shame. This was his king. His king and his brother. What kind of man lusted after his little brother’s own fiancé? What kind of loyal vassal lusted after his boy-king? But the anger was there, burning in his gut and behind his eyes, shocking Konrad in its intensity. Konrad’s own image of himself as the benevolent protector and loyal subject evaporated like so much smoke. And when Wolfram gave up all pretense of resistance, bringing a leg up to welcome Yuuri into the cradle of his thighs, something hard and brittle broke in the older man.
He fled. Still, the tender moans and sighs followed him, echoing his head, and giving him no peace. He felt as if the whole of reality had been rearranged in those few short moments.
It’s not everyday you find that you’re not the man you thought you were.
