Rating: Explicit for sexual content
Spoilers: From the first season.
Notes: As with many of my stories, Yuuri is around 19 here. This started as a short ficlet in response to a theme prompt, and I suddenly become really fascinated with the idea of these two.
I used English terms as often as I could, but I couldn't think of a good alternative to "Yuuri-Heika", so it stayed.
For these sorts of things, these urges that had nothing to do with love or affection, one had to be careful when deciding what to do. Especially if the person with said urges was the Maou of Shin Makoku.
Yuuri was careful and considerate in his choice, something he could not be accredited to doing many times in his life. It had to be someone who didn’t hold any special affection for him, but it also had to be someone he knew could be trusted. Sadly, that didn’t leave him with too many options, but he at least knew there were two people he could be sure of, and he wouldn’t feel too bizarre with. Maybe.
He later figured he didn’t want to learn about any strange fetishes Gwendal might be hiding, and that decided it for him. The other would be easier to approach on the subject than Gwendal anyway.
And so it was.
They were as different as night and day, in every sense conceivable. Yuuri was vaguely aware of it in the physical sense of coloring and build, his partner considerably light against his own dark features. But he could only fully appreciate the differences, the less noticeable yet more important ones, in the moment that experienced and playful fingers danced across his body. He writhed beneath the larger form, his body unsure whether it felt tickled, inflamed, or something that lay between. His reaction alone made him feel quite inadequate.
“Stop thinking,” a low voice commanded against the rim of his ear as the fingers slid lower, feather-light madness against his inner thigh.
“Please…” he practically whined, body having decided its reaction. He arched upward in hope of just the slightest contact, but the fingers slid away and hid behind his knees to continue their teasing. He tried to remain patient and pleading as his torturer continued to trail down with his tongue in a mimic of the path of his hands, tickling and tantalizing Yuuri’s inner thighs. Just as quickly though the tongue slid away and upward, with lips closing in what Yuuri considered a cruel denial. He was only marginally contented with the alternative given to him--one of those clever hands enclosing around his shaft and beginning a slow, frictional movement--and he managed a half-hearted glare in defiance to the knowing smirk that was hovering just above his face.
Not willing to be tormented so blatantly, Yuuri quickly changed his tactics, shifting to attack the exposed collarbone that was finally within his reach. His tongue trailed across it slowly, dipping into the hollowed crevice before drifting up behind his lover’s ear. His teeth nipped at the sun-kissed earlobe, and his efforts were rewarded with a low groan.
“Yozak,” Yuuri growled, his voice unrecognizable to his own ears.
“Now you’re starting to get it,” the redhead replied smugly. He knew the Maou would be a fast learner.
Yuuri had decided that hidden affairs were hard things to pull off, and despite not being the most moral of activities, he had a new sense of awe and pity for the numerous people on Earth who always made the news for doing such things. His saving grace was the fact that Yozak was excellent at sneaking around, an ability honed by his years as a spy for the kingdom. Yozak made most of the arrangements of the meetings and times and even the plans on how to get Yuuri there without an escort, and all Yuuri had to do was ensure these plans went through. Of course, the hardest part was just that---the odds of detaching Wolfram and Conrad from his side were no small miracle, and they were the individuals who most needed to be kept in the dark about it. It made Yuuri feel quite guilty, but the alternatives would end up hurting someone, which was the last thing he wanted to do. In the end, sneaking around in that way kept everyone at least content and things peaceful.
On one particular evening, Fortune seemed to be smiling on Yuuri: Conrad was away with Gwendal on some matter that had gone over Yuuri’s head when he was told about--something about the way some landowner was interpreting his contract with others who held shares--and Wolfram had been dragged by Cheri as the family representative to meet her supposed future husband. Both were due back at different times the following day, but it was just enough time to give Yuuri a very relaxing evening.
Due to the circumstances, Yozak strolled into Yuuri’s office very casually around the time when Conrad usually came to save him from either Gunter or endless paperwork. Tonight it happened to be both.
“Yuuri-Heika,” Yozak greeted informally, earning him a disapproving look from a Gunter, who had been cut off mid-sentence. “I’ve come to collect you for the night.”
Yuuri managed not to sputter at the double-meaning, and smiled in obvious relief. “Time to go already?”
Gunter opened his mouth to voice what was likely a protest, but he was cut off by Yozak once again. “I’ve been assigned by both the Captain and General von Voltaire to be on watch of His Majesty in their absence. I hope there is no objection to that, General von Kleist?”
Gunter had little to say to this, trusting Gwendal and Conrad’s judgment in the case of the Maou’s protection, although he was more than a little disappointed; he had been hoping the lack of the three brothers would allow him to monopolize just a bit more of the Maou’s time than he was usually allotted. Under normal circumstances he would have given more of a fight, but Yuuri gave him a hopeful look that squashed all protest. “No, I have no complaints. Have a pleasant evening, Your Majesty.”
But Yuuri was already halfway out the door with a careless wave and a cheerful “goodnight, Gunter!” that echoed through the long hallway. Yozak followed behind, but only went so far as the third hallway before calling Yuuri back.
“Your Majesty. It’s this way,” Yozak pointed, and when Yuuri gave him a puzzled look, he was kind enough to elaborate. “We don’t have to use the spare room tonight. My room is this way.”
“Ah, you’re right,” Yuuri grinned as he stepped back to Yozak’s side. It was all still a little awkward for him, although he was much more at ease after a few times; a couple of weeks had passed since the first very embarrassing request that had been made out of sheer desperation.
They made it to the room without being seen and Yozak switched into the second phase of the plan: getting the Maou to ease up on his awkwardness and relax. A different tactic was used each time, and Yozak was grateful that Yuuri was rather easy-going once he was settled; prudes were not really his forte.
As they entered, Yozak quickly walked to his chest, where he pulled out two equally ridiculous-looking feminine outfits. “Which will it be for tonight, Yuuri-Heika?” he questioned with a cat-like grin spread across his face.
“For you or for me?” Yuuri countered easily, already used to Yozak’s methods. While they were predictable, they worked; Yuuri’s smile was calm and open as he stepped away from the door and began to look around Yozak’s room.
“Ehh…well, I was thinking for me, but now that you mention it, I do recall you looking quite appealing in a maid’s outfit a few years back.” Yozak watched with interest as Yuuri stepped toward the bed and automatically began to remove his clothing.
‘Not good,’ he observed silently, placing the frilly garments down and crossing the short distance of the room before Yuuri even turned to see the other man move.
“They look like outfits Greta would wear, so I don’t think that’s going to be--oof!” Yuuri’s breath was knocked out of his chest as his back met the bed. His head almost cracked against the side wall, but Yozak’s hand was there to cushion the impact.
“The lesson for today is that sex should never become routine. When you start taking off your clothes yourself, it means your partner’s not doing his or her job,” Yozak supplied as he shifted the young king onto his knees, facing the wall. Disoriented, Yuuri complied willingly and he found himself pressed between Yozak and the back wall before he could utter a word.
“Ah, I didn’t mean to--”he began to say, but the apology concluded in a harsh exhale as the coolness of the stone wall touched met his chest. He leaned his arms against the wall despite the cold, resting his forehead against them in an attempt to gain a little balance. The chill was replaced by a shot of heat as he felt Yozak against his back and already touching him feverishly. The initial shock and disorientation from seconds before melted away to make way for the familiarity of lust, and Yuuri willingly followed Yozak into the spontaneity of the moment.
Yozak allowed himself to get lost in his movements, having stripped away all thoughts of lessons or duty or even rank as he continually drove into the other male with quick and forceful thrusts. At that moment he didn’t care that the young man was his king, didn’t care who he was to anyone at that moment but his lover. He didn’t even care about who Yuuri might be thinking about, or what that person might even--
‘Stop thinking,’ he reminded himself while giving a particularly forceful tug with the hand that was circling Yuuri’s shaft. Yuuri cried out in response as he came, the sound muffled against his arms. He pressed his hand against Yuuri’s hip, half-conscious with the fear that he was going to leave marks this time as he finished off with a final thrust.
When the haze of desire lifted from Yozak’s mind, he chanced a glance at Yuuri to make sure he hadn’t stepped over the line. But Yuuri’s lips held a smile while he continued to gasp for any air that would come to him.
“Thank you, Yozak,” he murmured when he had calmed. “You forgot for a little while.”
Just as quickly though, they fell into their usual roles: Yozak gathering up their clothes and handing the Maou his garments while Yuuri was ever attentive to any sound coming from the other side of the door. Yuuri knew Yozak would be aware of an unwanted presence well before he would, but it made him feel better to be on alert.
Noticing Yuuri’s usual apprehension surfacing, Yozak the Diligent Servant stepped in once again. “We should get you back to your own room, Your Majesty. General von Voltaire and the Captain are due back very early in the morning, and I have no doubt Conrad will be checking up on you as soon as he arrives.”
Yuuri started, the name sending a spark through the young man. It reflected across the Maou’s face for a brief moment and then settled into a contemplative glare.
“Hey, Yozak…who do you think would be the worst person to walk in?” Yuuri stared at the door, his eyes reflecting the different scenarios playing in his head. “Gunter would be so hysterical the whole castle would hear him, and that would be a really ugly scene.” It was a horrifying notion, but Yuuri’s lips turned up in the smallest hint of amusement at the picture the imaginary Gunter made.
Despite the uneasiness the subject brought, Yozak humored his own thoughts. “Von Bielefeld would make quite a spectacle too, I imagine.”
“Wolfram would run in with his sword swinging and aiming for both of our heads at the same time,” Yuuri supplied automatically, and the smile lessened.
“Well he doesn’t frighten me like he does you, Your Majesty.”
“Wolfram doesn’t scare me, Yozak.” Yozak noticed the mood of the room shift completely then. The smile had disappeared completely. “Not in the way you think, anyway.”
The silence that followed was heavy, both thinking about the exact same thing--the next possible person--the very same person.
“I think Conrad would be okay. I would have to explain it because he’d be a bit shocked, but he’d be okay,” Yuuri breathed, a voice that sounded soft and hollow as it bounced off the stone walls of Yozak’s bedroom.
“He would kill me. Or worse, never speak with me again,” Yozak countered, realizing too late he might have let a little too much slip. He grinned, hoping to lighten the mood and also hoping Yuuri was as clueless as usual. “But I know how to plan these out, so we don’t have to worry about anybody trying to lop off our heads, right?”
But Yuuri wasn’t as clueless as people took him. He could read someone when they gave him the right material to work with, and just because he feigned ignorance much of the time didn’t mean he didn’t know what was going on; it just meant he thought he was doing what was best for everyone.
“I’ve put you in a bad position, Yozak… I’m sorry,” Yuuri said simply. In choosing Yozak, Yuuri had thought that he would avoid hurting anyone. But now it seemed to him that he had hurt someone anyway, and perhaps there was no way to avoid such things.
“It’s not a big deal,” Yozak tried to back-pedal. Yes, the Maou was certainly a quick learner. “This is about you, not me.”
The words were spoken with plain honesty, not meant to be harsh or critical, but they cut through Yuuri the way most of Yozak’s words did. Yozak had always been good at putting Yuuri in his place, from the time he had tested him with the stone that held Morgif’s power until that moment. It unnerved Yuuri in the worst way, because it touched a sore spot; it was always about him, even when he tried so hard for it not to be.
He told himself this whole charade was about others and their feelings, and on some level that was true. But it was all the more about him and his choices.
The avoidance of choices.
He slipped his shoes on, tying them up even though he would take them off only a few minutes later in his own room. He got up quickly, but there wasn’t much point because Yozak would be following him to his chambers to stand watch. There was no way to run away from his shame, yet Yuuri felt that somehow having a door between Yozak and him would ease the tension creeping in his shoulders.
They walked to the Maou’s door, and Yozak gave it a once-over before stepping back into the hall and leaning against the far wall-- his post, and his signal to the Maou that everything was in order.
“Goodnight, Yozak.” Yuuri managed to let the words roll off his tongue, relief at feeling the door to his chambers against his palm. In just a minute the tension would be released and he could go back to normal.
“He would be okay, for you, Your Majesty. He would accept what you would say. But you still wouldn’t want him to walk through that door,” Yozak challenged, eyes blue and piercing as he dealt Yuuri what he was best at serving the Maou: his honesty.
“Stop thinking, Yozak,” Yuuri muttered darkly, shoulders stiff and unyielding as he closed the wooden door with a click of finality.
It was the last night they met on those terms.