Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Out with the Old, In with the New ❯ Fifth Installment: Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome ( Chapter 5 )

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Me: So I'm halfway through my Subway sandwich when I suddenly remember: this delicious sandwich contains lettuce that could very possible carry the E. Coli virus. So, what does this chick do? Goes for gold and finishes it. If a year passes between this chapter and you waiting for the next, please assume my lettuce had murderous intentions…and that there will be NO next chapter.

Tommy: But before then, she wants to thank some people…

 

To tsukihime: I'm so thrilled to be responsible for your mental decline. I'll be sure to keep up the good work! Ha ha, thank you, your bet has been registered.

 

To wolfram_kyo: First off, love that name…ah, yes! Another one who's mental health is leaving them on account of my story. Well, my life IS complete! Ha ha ha!

 

To General: I'm so pleased with the response I've gotten for this story. Thank you to all my readers, and especially to those who voice their presence.

 

And finally to Hollister. Yes, Hollister, a store that can be found in most malls. I don't know what it sells, clothes, I think, but I don't shop there. The only thing I must thank them is for simply blasting their music so freakin' loud it enables me to be able to drown out what the mall plays, unaffectionately known as “muzak,” and keep my sanity.

 

Tommy: Yes, this grasp of what is left of Herme's sanity is what allows her to continue writing, so please keep Hollister in your thoughts and prayers.

 

Me: Yes, and now without much more delay, the Fifth Installment!

 

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=Out with the Old, In with the New=

Fifth Installment: Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome

 

For the first part of dinner, Yuri was mostly in a stupor. The day's events were replaying furiously in his mind. Now sitting around the dinner table, Yuri thought he'd never had such an awkward dinner. Or at least, not since he had first arrived in the Demon Kingdom. Suddenly remembering that dinner reminded him that that was also the dinner he had “proposed” to Wolfram. Forcing his mind away from the memory, he glanced around the table.

 

No one was talking. Indeed, neither Conrad nor Gunter had spoken since just before the surprise massage Wolfram had booked them. Yuri didn't speak because frankly, he was out of ideas (just how intimate could one become with their food before it became old?), and he was afraid if he opened his mouth Wolfram would get another idea. He had been waiting for Wolfram to start something ever since they returned from the room that had been turned into an impromptu massage parlor an hour ago. But nothin' doin'. Puzzled, Yuri began attacking his steak.

 

Then, it started.

 

“How's your steak, Yuri?”

 

Yuri paused in his cutting to look up at Wolfram, who was waiting for the answer to his question with another wolfish grin on his face. Wolfram was sitting directly across from Yuri in order to better observe everything Yuri did, as well as to improve the impact of any looks he could throw. Yuri frowned inside his mind. **Think quick, think quick, think quick!**

 

Yuri smiled. “It's perfect. Just how I like my meat: big, fat and juicy.”

 

Wolfram blinked and Anissina choked on her drink. *Ding!* Yuri: I

 

Not to be shown up, Wolfram grinned in return. “It is good, isn't it?” he said. “But I think I enjoyed the salad better, even if the dressing kept dripping down my chin. There was so much I could barely swallow it all.”

 

Yuri tried to squirm indiscreetly in his seat. Beside him, Gwendal felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. *Ding!* Wolfram: I

 

As much as she was enjoying the banter thus far, Cecilie felt she had to cut in. “So, how was the massage?” Beside her, Conrad and Gunter immediately blushed.

 

Though both Yuri and Wolfram opened their mouths to reply, Wolfram beat Yuri to the punch. “It felt divine, mother. I must say I rather like the feel of another man's hands on me…” *Ding! Ding!* Wolfram: II “…to massage out the day's stress.”

 

Yuri raised an eyebrow but made his reply to everyone in general. “It was alright, but I like playing baseball better. You just can't beat being around so many hot, sweaty guys all playing together. And I just love holding the long hard bat in by hands.”

 

Everyone turned to stare at their king. *Ding! Ding!* Yuri: II

 

Wolfram couldn't resist. He stared at Yuri through new eyes as he fought down a smirk. He had to admit, Yuri was pretty good at this, meeting him head on to every retort with fine ones of his own.

 

Regardless of Wolfram's personal feelings on the matter, silence reigned at the table while the two dared each other with their eyes. In the corner, the Three began furiously scribbling notes on scraps of paper.

 

Conrad coughed then. “Ah, yes, you always did favor the heavier types of bats, Yuri,” he said, trying to alleviate the situation. Rather than alleviate, however, it elevated and Yuri found himself inexplicably blushing while Wolfram snickered.

 

*Ding!* Conrad: I

 

Gunter blinked repeatedly while he stared down into his plate. Both Cecilie and Anissina were leaning forward with anticipation to see where this was heading. Gwendal began scoping out possible emergency exits, and Conrad looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him up at that very moment. It seemed, however, that the Fates were total bitches because Conrad was forced to play privy to what happened next. Yuri looked up at Wolfram and was annoyed to see the smug look he had plastered all over his face. Something stirred in him and it made him want to wipe the grin off of Wolfram's face, any way he could.

 

“Yes, I've always loved baseball,” Yuri told Conrad, “though my parents didn't always approve. My father once tried to get me to play that stupid game Ludo, but I never could get into it like some people can. You have to sit or lay around, playing on a flat board, it's real slow, and it poses no challenge. I mean, *anyone* could play it.” Then, he paused and looked directly at Wolfram as he spoke. “Know what I mean?”

 

There was not one person at that table, or even in that room, that didn't catch on to what Yuri meant. Least of all, Wolfram.

 

Wolfram blinked.

 

Then he blinked again. And again. The words Yuri had spoke, with all of their double-entendre, were finally soaking into his brain. How dare he? How dare that pathetic wimp hit so far below the belt like that? Wolfram was angry at the little idiot. He was embarrassed because he was just all too certain everyone else also understood Yuri's double-speak. He was...at a loss?

 

Wolfram opened his mouth and...nothing. Wolfram suddenly and unexplainably found himself without a single thing to say. His eyes widened as the silence dragged on. The others began to turn and look at Wolfram. They were all waiting for something that was obviously not about to make an appearance. And then, Wolfram stood up.

 

“I'm finished,” he said simply, and left the room.

 

Yuri blinked.

 

And then he blinked again. And again. Had Wolfram just given up? The maids rushed forward to remove the plate that Wolfram left behind, obviously understanding Wolfram's statement to mean he was done with dinner. Yuri, however, heard the other meaning. Wolfram was giving up without further adieu, eh? This in itself was shocking. Everyone in the room thought as much. Wolfram had always been the most outspoken of everybody. He had *never* left without some sort of retort, witty or otherwise. But now, he was “finished.”

 

He had given up and Yuri had won. Won the round, won the battle, won the war. But now in the newfound silence, Yuri began to feel that in winning he had actually lost.

 

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Wolfram left the dining room and walked down the hallways with the utmost of dignity. He was the very picture of “grace in defeat.” That is, until he got to his room. Once he had closed the doors behind himself, he stood in the very center of the room and paused. He breathed. In and out. He breathed...

 

“Arrggh—SHIT!” he shouted. Wolfram felt so insurmountably pissed off that his body temperature began to rise as the heat of his anger pulsed through him. Now overheated, Wolfram began stripping off his clothes, nearly popping off his buttons in his furious haste. He kicked his breeches away with great feeling and tore off his shirt at the same time, flinging it carelessly in any direction.

 

And there, standing in his underwear, is where Yuri found him.

 

Yuri froze, half-way inside, and Wolfram froze, half-way turning to see who would dare intrude without knocking first. The two stared at each other, the blushes rising in their respective faces.

 

**Bloody. Fucking. Hell.** Wolfram thought. **Why is HE here?** It was then, and only then, that Wolfram realized he had *not* returned to his own room, but Yuri's. It seemed he was so used to sleeping in this room with Yuri now that his feet had carried him here unconscious of the grave mistake they were making.

 

And now, here he was! Standing nearly naked in front of the one person he most intensely disliked in the world at the moment. No, not even Conrart's record was *this* bad in Wolfram's Mental Blacklist File Cabinet. And now, even worse, robbed of his pretense of teasing Yuri, Wolfram found he suddenly felt self-conscious.

 

Being royalty, Wolfram had grown up in an environment in which nursemaids attended to most everything, including bathing, and he had never before felt embarrassed. Naturally, he had eventually begun bathing on his own, and while he didn't usually run around in the buff, if he had had to strip in front of others it was no big deal. Besides, Wolfram knew he had a nice-enough looking body. Plus, he had undressed in front of Yuri before, this morning (was it only just this morning?) with great relish, so...

 

...So what was his problem now? Was it because he hadn't been expecting Yuri at all? Was it because Yuri seemed so startled? Was it because Yuri was staring? Was it because it was Yuri? Or was it...

 

Wolfram took a deep breath before speaking. “Either come in or get the hell out, but whatever you choose, close the gods-be-damned door!”

 

Yuri blinked and it seemed to be the key to unfreezing him. He came inside (it was his own room after all!) and closed the door behind him. The sound of the door closing in the faces of the curious guards was the last sound to be heard for a few very long moments. Neither of them moved, unsure of which direction would cause the least amount of damage. Then someone made a small sound. Yuri glanced up at Wolfram, and Wolfram at Yuri. It was apparent neither was certain who had made the sound, for all they knew they could have both made a sound. In any case, Yuri smiled an odd and confused smile at Wolfram and then began walking towards the dresser that held their nightclothes. He didn't pass any closer than four feet from Wolfram, but it was close enough.

 

Yuri paused and turned to look at Wolfram. “Damn, you're hot.”

 

If Wolfram hadn't been so shocked, he would have laughed. “EXCUSE ME?!”

 

Yuri's face flushed the moment he realized what he had said. “Ah, no! I mean your body's hot!”

 

At this point, Wolfram's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

 

Yuri raised his hands, waving them as if in this way he could magically erase the words that hung in the air. “What I mean is—I mean your temperature, your skin feels hot even from over here!”

 

Wolfram calmed down but was still a bit wary. “My skin?”

 

“Yeah, like you have a fever or something.”

 

“Well, I don't,” Wolfram said, lamely.

 

“Oh.” A moment. “Then...why are you so hot?”

 

The corner of Wolfram's mouth and an eyebrow quirked. He had to look away from Yuri before he began grinning. Oh, he could think of a million answers to that simple question. Apparently, Yuri was thinking along the same lines.

 

“I don't mean that way!” Yuri said quickly.

 

Wolfram frowned at him. “Really?”

 

“Of course not!” Yuri said, annoyed. “Why would I?”

 

“Considering your behavior from today aside?” Wolfram asked sarcastically with an eyebrow raised. “I. Don't. Know!”

 

“My behavior?” Yuri repeated. “*My* behavior? I wasn't the one acting like a—”

 

“`Like a' what?” Wolfram interrupted in a cold voice. **Finish that sentence,** he dared Yuri in his mind. **Finish it.**

 

As per usual, Yuri was oblivious to the masked threat. “Like an idiot! You said a lot of things today that *no one* should say, in or out of the bedroom!”

 

Wolfram felt a new surge of heated anger flow through him. “I beg your pardon? Wasn't it *you* saying something along the lines of `Boy, your hands feel so good in all the right places' during the massage? I thought Conrart was going to faint!”

 

Even though Yuri could clearly remember the incident, it felt like something from a movie. Or at least, something someone else would do. Certainly not him. He refused to blush. “Yeah, well, you were saying the same things! Plus you were...moaning—” Against his will, Yuri began to blush. “—or, groaning...uh...and—and what about your little reading session during my ballgame, huh?”

 

Wolfram, apparently, had decided to delight his mother, posse, and the suddenly growing crowd by a Read-Out-Loud session of the Demon World's literary equivalent to the Kama Sutra. It was without a doubt the raunchiest story Yuri had ever heard. And even worse, he couldn't seem to be able to forget the way Wolfram's lips looked as he formed the naughtiest words Yuri had ever heard spoken aloud.

 

No, forget naughty, most of them were just through the roof. Though he certainly knew them, Yuri had never found reason to use the words Wolfram seemed to be uttering without reserve and in the combinations or the way that the author of that stupid book meant them to be. Things like “tower of power,” “honey bump,” the “rivulets of his liquid excitement,” the “pulsating python of passion,” or the “throbbing spear of destiny.” And especially the one he'd never, ever forget: “purple headed womb ferret.” What the hell did that mean anyways?!

 

“What about it?” Wolfram said. “I was just providing a relief to the boredom of simply lying around.”

 

“You could have provided it inside!”

 

“Why?” Wolfram asked, feigning innocence. “Everyone was outside.”

 

Yuri didn't believe that for a second. “You're just screwing with me,” he said

 

“Not yet,” Wolfram replied, haughtily.

 

“Oh, so we're back to this now, eh?”

 

Wolfram raised an eyebrow. “Back to what?”

 

“You know very well `what!' This game of yours where you pretend to be so experienced in everything! Just cut it out, will you? We both know you're really not.”

 

“Not?” Wolfram asked in the frustrating voice he used when he was pretending.

 

Yuri growled in frustration. “Look, if I jumped on you right now you wouldn't have a clue what to do!”

 

This time, Wolfram didn't back down. “Are you?”

 

“What?”

 

“About to jump on me?”

 

Yuri blinked. “No!”

 

“Then what does it matter?” Wolfram asked angrily. “You'll never know what I am because you'll never try! That's all it is with you, never wanting to try!”

 

“That's not true,” Yuri said quietly.

 

After all the shouting they had done, the softly spoken words fell strangely like a sudden silence. The two at them stared at each other as if from a great distance.

 

Then Wolfram said, “Is that so?”

 

Yuri didn't reply. This conversation felt as if it were heading dangerously close to a subject he didn't want to discuss, now, later or ever. Wolfram recognized it, as well, and he felt suddenly tired as he realized that Yuri wasn't about to make any life-changing decisions anytime soon. Furthermore, he felt like an idiot for arguing with the wimp in nothing but his underwear. Turning around, he walked towards the dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out his nightgown.

 

“What are you doing?” Yuri asked then.

 

Wolfram scowled at him. “What does it look like? I'm getting ready to go to sleep.”

 

“Here?” Yuri asked surprised.

 

Then, Wolfram felt pissed off again. “Where do you think, stupid? It's not like I *meant* to come here, I thought I had went back to my room!”

 

Yuri frowned at the name-calling. “Then why are you still here?”

 

For the same reason Wolfram wouldn't leave the room, he also wouldn't tell Yuri the answer to his question. It was, in fact, pride that kept him in there. Had he gone to his room in the first place, that would've been fine, but now that it was generally known that he was back in the Maou's room (for by now, surely, the guards had informed the Three, who had informed everyone else, “everyone else” eventually including his brothers, mother, Anissina and Gunter) he could not, on pain of losing face, leave. Nothing would make him leave. To avoid Yuri of his own accord was one thing, to be sent away, and actually obey the order, was simply beyond the pale.

 

Wolfram sighed and slipped the nightgown over his head. “Look, just shut up, get into your nightclothes, and go to sleep.”

 

“Don't tell me what to do!” Yuri shouted as he began to undress. “Uh, even though I'm gonna do it...but it's not because you told me to!” he added when Wolfram gave him a look.

 

Then, silence followed. It was so quiet the sound of their breathing seemed like a tornado, F6. There in the large bed, made to feel even larger by the distance between them emotionally, Wolfram and Yuri lay: tense, and as straight as possible, as close to their respective edges as possible. Still, it was hours before either of them fell into sleep.

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Author's Note: Extreme thanks to my sister, affectionately known as Kyo-koneko-chan! ha ha, last time I called her that, she said, "Shut up." Ha ha ha! In any case, thanks for helping me write the dinner banter, kid. Thanks for being a pervert in the night! I luvses you, Kyo! <333

Tommy: *Appalled at the Over-Heart Usage and Decides to Press On* Also, thanks goes out for ScherzandoXX, simply for sharing a long and incredibly funny list of euphemisms in that one thread.

Me: “Don't tell me what to do! Uh, even though I'm gonna do it...” This is what I tell my parents when they tell me to do something.

Tommy: F6: The Fujita scale, measures the force of tornadoes and hurricanes. An F5 is about as bad as it gets, but as it turns out, there IS a higher level, the F6, which stands for “Inconceivable” tornado. The Mistress chose it cuz of The Sicilian in The Princess Bride always saying, "Inconceivable!”

Me: Well, folks, we have one vote for Wolfram by yami_no_miko and one for Yuri by Tsukihime. But who won?

Tommy: Does it matter? We don't have a prize for them.

Me: Um...self-satisfaction at being right?

Tommy: *Shakes Head* A prize would've been better. Anyways, join us next time for the Sixth Installment: Mind Over Matter.

Me: Until then. *Dramatic Theatrical Bow*

 

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