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Ever since Yuuri had travelled to Shin Makoku he had lived a double life.
Schoolboy and then University Student on Earth, and King in Shin Makoku.
He knew it would have to end, he’d need to choose one life or the other. That is what kept him awake at three am in the morning.
‘You’re thinking is keeping me awake,’ Murata said in an annoyed voice and buried his head against his shoulder.
‘Hmm….sorry,’ Yuuri brushed his hands through Murata’s hair. Thick silky strands…very different from Wolfram’s. That thought paused his hands.
‘Wolfram will kill us if he knew,’ he said. Guilt now a familiar friend.
He’d said as much before, and as usual Murata dismissed it. ‘I don’t plan to tell him.’
It was different with Murata. His friend...love knew he was with another man, knew he slept with Wolfram, had for a few years now. Wolfram had been his first.
Wolfram didn’t know about Murata. Murata was who he was with on Earth, Wolfram was his in Shin Makoku – he’d not mixed the two, it was the only thing that kept the guilt to almost tolerable levels. Almost.
‘We’ll have to stop when I finish University.’ He would marry Wolfram.
‘So you decided?’ Murata didn’t even question what ‘stop’ meant. That it meant ending this…part of their relationship together.
‘I think I always had…I just didn’t…’ He couldn’t give up Shin Makoku, he couldn’t give up the good he’d done there, or his friends…and he couldn’t give up Wolfram.
‘I’m not surprised.’ Murata rolled onto his back next to him.
‘Are you coming?’
‘Of course. I am the Sage and I will support you.’
‘We can’t…’ Yuuri paused. ‘We can’t do this anymore, we can’t be together.’
Murata made a chuckle. It sounded cynical. ‘I know, Shibuya.’
If only Wolfram could understand. ‘If…Wolfram could see…then….’
‘I doubt he would. He’s a possessive type.’ There was no judgment there, just a blunt statement of fact.
‘And you aren’t?’ He rolled on his side and looked at Murata, who was looking at the ceiling.
‘It’s not who I am. I enjoy the moments in life that’s given to me, but I have no further expectation than that.’
That actually sounded rather sad.
‘If he did understand…’ He trailed off uncertainty, knowing exactly how naïve he sounded.
‘Then you’d marry both of us?’ There was a slight mocking sound to Murata’s voice.
Now Yuuri didn’t like that. Sometimes he enjoyed Murata’s sarcasm, this wasn’t one of them. There was something about that grated, even in this case, where it was justified.
‘I would…if I could.’
‘Oh…’ Murata said, and gently turned and gave him a small smile and then reached out and grabbed his hand. ‘You are a sweet boy, Shibuya. You need someone just as sweet to be with. I’m not, but Wolfram is, and that’s why you should marry him and be his alone. You need not worry about me. I’ll not regret the moments we had.’
‘Do you love me?’
Murata had distracted him then, and he’d never gotten an answer.
~***~
10 YEARS LATER.
Friday night, barring an emergency or travel, found Yuuri in the Sage’s rooms, having dinner and a meeting. Wolfram suspected the meeting part was them playing silly games or gossiping about the court, like the kitchen maids, but he knew it was time Yuuri valued so he allowed it.
Truth was he also valued time alone, especially when he’d been home from patrol for a length of time, he loved his husband, but the dope could be…exhausting.
It was Wolfram’s job to collect his husband later that night, before midnight. In the early days, he was ashamed to say he’d deliberately alternated times, having been still fearful that Yuuri would would have turned to another and he’d been suspicious of the Sage at first, but his fears were foundless, he’d always find them haggling over a board game, or sometimes drinking, an appropriate distance between them.
‘Ah,’ the Sage said on the couch opposite Yuuri, as he slipped into the common room, he never did knock in the early days and he saw no reason to start now. ‘Your beautiful husband has come to collect you.’
Wolfram scowled at the Sage, but he couldn’t sustain it – it sounded mocking, but underneath was a sincerity he wasn’t used to from others who complimented him. The Sage winked.
There was two empty bottles of wine on the table, they had drunk it, it seemed and that was borne out by the way that Yuuri got up, giving him a quick hug. ‘Heh, Wolf.’
‘So bed?’
‘Of course,’ there was a giggle against his shoulder and he gave Murata, who looked very unrepentant a glare. They usually didn’t drink, or if they did, not that much.
‘Come on.’
‘Sleep well,’ the Sage had said in a singsong voice as they left the room.
Yuuri had been very obedient- had allowed himself to be undressed and put to bed without any fuss, and only a few clumsy kisses, from his husband, to slow them down..
‘Why did you drink so much?’ he grumbled as he did a quick circuit of the room, and check of the window locks, making sure everything was in place and nothing was disturbed.
‘It’s an anniversary.’ Yuuri said with a yawn.
‘An anniversary? Of what?’ He said as he returned to the bed and removed his slippers.
Of the day I decided to stay here?
Wolfram shook his head and crawled into bed next to his husband.
‘I’m glad….’ Yuuri said under his breath and he placed a hand on Wolfram chest. ‘I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m glad you’re my husband.’ It was amazing, how much those words meant to him, even after all that time. Yuuri was always coming out with such sentimental words, and Wolfram think he’d never tire of it.
He curled his fingers around the hand, his eyes feeling wet ‘I’m glad too.’
‘But I wish he wasn’t so lonely,’ his husband said so very sadly. The way he said it unsettled him.
‘Who?’
‘Murata…he’s lonely….’ Yuuri murmured and then started snoring.
~***~
At first, in the early days Wolfram had found the Sage rather irritating. Not so much now, in some ways he’d consider the man an ally when it came to talking Yuuri out of outrageous ideas.
Their combined efforts didn’t always work, but it did more often than not with the Sage’s help, and he appreciated the effort when it didn’t. Wolfram had found over time that he could rely on the Sage as a bit of a strange…well, confidante wouldn’t work, but someone who understood – the person who could often exchange exasperated looks with if Yuuri did something particularly idiotic or wimpish. He’d find himself rolling his eyes only to find Murata give him a sympathetic grin.
The Sage was Yuuri’s best friend first and foremost, but…sometimes, he could imagine that the Sage was a comrade of his too, in the ways of keeping his husband safe from embarrassment and harm.
But he’d never paid too much attention to him, his eyes if not on Yuuri were on the surroundings to keep Yuuri safe.
Today his found himself regarding the Sage.
‘…he’s lonely.’
The man didn’t look lonely. Though, the Sage rarely looked anything other than amused, bored, or sometimes mildly irritated. A hand full of times he’d seen him look furious – but mostly the man was indecipherable, eyes dark behind a perpetual look of vague interest in his surroundings. Which is how looked now in the mid-afternoon meeting. He looked away when the eyes lightened on him, feeling a little flustered at being caught.
He sneaked another look again as everyone packed to leave. As far as he knew the Sage wasn’t with anyone in a romantic sense, but that didn’t mean anything – the man was in communion with the Great One…and even if that wasn’t what a lot of people thought (he flustered at that thought) being alone didn’t mean being lonely. A lot of mazoku were single by choice, there was nothing wrong with that, he himself had been that way, and happily so, for a long time before Yuuri.
Yet, if Yuuri said the Sage was lonely…well…it had to be true. His husband was good at these things, at noticing other people’s pain, and knew the Sage best. But Wolfram couldn’t see it.
‘Could I trouble you for your time, Prince Wolfram,’ the Sage appeared at his side, giving him a charming smile, dark eyes so similar to Yuuri’s yet not. One that, Wolfram had to admit, made him look rather attractive. Not as attractive as Yuuri, of course, nobody was that beautiful, but it did make him catch his breath slightly.
‘OH?’ He tried to act unruffled though he didn’t feel it all. He never was one for hiding what he felt.
‘Yes, I want your advice on some old paintings I found. I have them hanging in my rooms for a few days and I know that you studied art.’
That did pique his interest, art was something of a passion for him, and it had only in the last few years that he’d taken it back up. It really wasn’t something that Yuuri was interested in, though he certainly didn’t mind Wolfram spending the time in the hobby – so it was nice to discuss it with someone who shared that interest.
The art in question was a pastoral scene. The edge of a forest on a large canvas, and the fields beyond with grazing horses and a brook. The style was old, but the colours still so vivid. It really did bring colour to the main room.
‘It’s lovely,’ he said as he studied it. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘One of the nobles donated it, his Aunt had it hidden away in an attic.’
He turned to look at the Sage studying him instead.
‘Do I something on my face?’ He asked in a huff, and then felt like slapping his hand over his mouth, of course he’d been rude to the Sage before, but he was trying – and besides it was him watching before.
‘Not at all.’ The Sage said in a mild voice. ‘I’m glad for your advice, but I have to confess the main reason I invited you here was so I could talk to you privately.’
‘You have absolutely no shame,’ Wolfram said.
‘Not really,’ Murata admitted and put his hand out in a gesture of peace. ‘I’m just wondering why you were staring at me earlier. Was there something you wanted to ask? Or to talk about.’
‘No,’ Wolfram snapped.
Murata quirked up one eyebrow. ‘Nothing? I hope everything is fine, you don’t have any worries with Shibuya?’
‘Not at all.’ He felt trapped by the Sage gaze. ‘It’s just…’ he faltered, but the Sage waited patiently for his response. ‘Yuuri last night, he was drunk.’ Murata blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘He was worried about you.’
Murata gave him a small smile. ‘Shibuya worries about everyone.’
Which was true, and he didn’t know why he was bothering saying anything at all. ‘He said you were lonely,’ Wolfram blurted out.
There was a fleeting frown and then Murata gave him a cheerful grin. ‘Well, you know how he is, he still finds it difficult to understand other ways of living. He’s happily married, so he’s worried that if I’m not, then I must be unhappy.’
That was certainly true. But then again, Yuuri never said such things about Conrad or Yozak who were also unmarried and single, and he cared about those people too. But it was really hardly his place to pry, he’d already gone further than proprietary allowed
‘Now about this painting,’ the Sage directed him back to the wall and the subject was dropped.
~***~
Yuuri never said anything further on the Sage, and neither did Wolfram bring it up. But he couldn’t forget it, though things continued as normal, with the usual weekly meetings, travels and of course Friday night.
Now that he was looking, he could see that the Sage did stand apart from Yuuri’s circle. Rarely socialised other than with Yuuri, or sometimes sharing a drink with Yozak. Maybe he was lonely?
He didn’t understand why the Sage need be alone. He was handsome, anyone with eyes could see, and intelligent, he had a certain charm that should have had many flocking to his side. He was popular at dances, but he never danced with the same person twice and nobody especially seemed to catch his eye.
Knowing this, had led him to Murata’s side often during balls, to talk, and sometimes to dance. If Murata noticed anything he didn’t say, and Yuuri didn’t seem to mind. Of course it did cause some gossip, but people gossiped always. Once Wolfram had stopped to talk to the gardener about planting new flowers for the next summer which led to rumour he was sleeping with the burly man. Yuuri had found that one exceptionally amusing, Wolfram not so much.
It didn’t bother him that there were rumours about him and the Sage, especially since it never bothered Yuuri and it was entirely false.
And he enjoyed Murata’s company. He enjoyed it, maybe a little too much..
~***~
Wolfram had long ago given up the idea that his life was wholly his alone, and it didn’t mean it in the sense of sharing his life with Yuuri, or his duty to the kingdom and his men– more so, in the idea that his choices were his alone, and not bound by fate, or by the will of the Gods…or in his case Shinou.
He still liked to delude himself of his own choice, but ever since Yuuri had arrived the series of events and incidences that had let him to this point, even to good things like marrying his husband, seemed to come from somewhere else, someone else.
There was no point moaning about it, whether or not his life was ruled by destiny or his own decisions Wolfram had to act as if he had some power, otherwise he may as well go seal himself in the tower and never leave again.
But…after the events of today, months later when he’d had the luxury of thinking about it, he was sure that the events had not just been a series of coincidences. Wolfram didn’t believe that anyone like him could be that unlucky, or …maybe that lucky, depending upon how one looked at it, or when.
‘You smell nice,’ he declared to Yuuri as he crawled up into his lap. Yuuri made a small squawking sound and tried to push him off, but Wolfram wasn’t having any of it but he didn’t see why not, he felt fantastic, and Yuuri smelt so nice.
‘Is there an antidote of some sort?’ Yuuri asked.
‘Only time,’ the Sage replied. Oh the Sage was here too. He’d almost forgotten, he’d been dragged back to their guest room after he tried to crawl into Yuuri’s lap during negotiations. ‘The herb is particularly potent with fire users and was in the icing in the chocolate cake. Ludlin spice make mazoku is a bit like an aphrodisiac and an intoxicant, it removes inhibition and impulse-control, but it won’t be long before he knocks him out. He should be fine by morning.’
Wolfram understood exactly what Murata was saying, entirely, but it seemed immaterial to him. Entirely irrelevant.
‘Lord Weller and Voltaire are smoothing any misunderstanding from Wolfram’s behaviour, I should go help. I’ll just leave you two-‘
‘No!’ Wolfram said and he got up, he was a bit wobbly on his feet but it didn’t stop him from grabbing onto Murata, enough that he fell into his arms. ‘I like your smell too. I want to kiss you.’
‘Wolfram!’ Yuuri said outraged and he was grabbed from behind but he wasn’t going to let go of Murata. In fact, with Yuuri’s arm around his waist and Murata in front it felt fantastic, he was the meat in the double-black sandwich and he giggled at that and managed a sloppy kiss on Murata’s cheek (he was aiming for the lips) before he was pushed back against Yuuri.
A small part of him was telling him that what he was doing was wrong, very wrong, but that small voice was distant. He wanted a kiss. He wanted more, he wanted…an image came to him of being naked on the bed, Murata would kiss him, and Yuuri would suck him off.
‘I want you both,’ he declared. ‘I want a double-black sandwich!’ Yuuri made a pained noise.
‘Come here,’ Yuuri pulled him back and down onto the bed.
That wasn’t very fair, didn’t they understand how much he wanted? And he knew by how flustered Murata was he wanted him too. ‘Don’t be a wimp, wimp! I want you too, I want both of you.’ And to prove his point he latched onto Yuuri’s neck trying to pull him down into the bed. ‘I want to be fucked.’
‘How much time before this wears off?’
‘A couple of hours,’ Murata said sounding a little breathless. ‘Throwing him under cold water might help. I’ll leave you to it.’
‘No,’ Wolfram said, but Yuuri didn’t want let him get up so he called out after the Sage who was at the door. ‘I don’t want you to be lonely...you don’t have to be lonely, we can both love you.’ It seemed like a very practical thing. If Murata was lonely, then he could have them both, Yuuri cared about him and was his only friend, and Wolfram had become to be fond of him.
Besides. He shuddered in delight, he’d get two double-blacks in bed with him and his cock was hard at the thought.
Yuuri shushed him, and he didn’t have the strength to resist, and by the time he was able to look again Murata was gone.
‘You’re such a wimp, wimp!’ He said again, he let the tears of frustration fall as Yuuri pushed shoved him under a cold shower. Didn’t Yuuri want Murata to be happy?
~***~
‘You look exhausted.’
Murata had knocked on the door gently a few hours later.
‘I spent a few hours fending him off,’ he sighed. ‘I’m definitely never going to let him eat food in the Small Cimmaron court again.’
‘I think Fluerin was able to smooth things over with the ambassador.’
‘Oh…God,’ Yuuri covered his face and then looked up at Murata who looked pretty tired himself. ‘Will he remember?’
‘Probably. The herb doesn’t instil forgetfulness.’
‘He’s never going to forgive himself,’ Yuuri wanted to crawl into the bed next to the slumbering Wolfram and stay there for another few months with him, asleep. But eventually they would have to show their faces and he wasn’t looking forward to how humiliated Wolfram would be.
Yuuri sighed again and sat down in the guest room chair. A thought occurred to him and he looked up at Murata. ‘You said it removes inhibitions…does that mean he-‘
‘I wouldn’t read too much into it, Shibuya.’ Murata shook his head.
‘No…but…-‘
‘How many fantasies do you have that you’d have no intention of acting out in reality?’
Murata had a point. ‘But…it’s just not like Wolfram…’ He couldn’t imagine Wolfram wanting that, even as a personal fantasy. It just…wasn’t how he saw Wolfram. IT wasn’t who Wolfram was. Wolfram didn’t keep secrets.
‘You can never tell…don’t take it personally. It doesn’t mean anything.’
‘But…’ the thing was, he wanted it to mean something. ‘Murata…I want-‘
‘It doesn’t mean anything. Let it go, Shibuya. Be grateful for what you have. My advise, don’t bring it up again, let Wolfram keep his dignity.’
‘But I can’t unhear what he said, Murata.’ He rubbed his eyes again.
‘Shibuya, don’t.’ Murata’s voice sounded pained and Yuuri looked down at the floor, too afraid to see Murata’s face.
‘Wimp!’ Wolfram’s voice echoed in his head. ‘I know….I know. Murata…sometimes I wish…I wish…’
This time he looked up at Murata’s face. Murata’s face looked pale, but composed.
‘I know.’