Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Title: Misinterpretation
Author: Orenda
Theme: 23. Like an art piece
Pairing: Yuuri/Wolfram
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own KKM, nor am I making any money off of the characters, so please don't sue me.
Summary: Just because you're expecting one thing doesn't always mean that it will happen that way…

"YUURI!"

As soon as the dark haired boy-turned-king heard his name being called out from down the hallway, he knew that he'd been caught, and escape was not most likely an option. But having to remain still in one pose for a good portion of the evening with Wolfram and a room full of those smelly disgusting paints was not his idea of fun. Thoughts ran through his head of different excuses he could use – but he'd already finished his studies with Gunter for the day, and Gwendal and Conrad both had other important business that needed to be attended to. Perhaps he could insist that he needed to spend some time with Greta before it got dark…

But then Yuuri was pulled out of his thoughts as a pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and started to pull him down the hall, causing him to squeak in protest. "W-Wolfram… I'm not sure I have time to-"

Unfortunately for Yuuri, the blond didn't seem to be listening to his complaints at all, content to continue to drag Yuuri to his intended destination. "I've been waiting for you all day, and as your fiancé, I have the right to spend some time with you!"

As much as he wanted to, Yuuri couldn't seem to find any other good enough excuses to protest, and he groaned half-heartedly as he found himself giving in to the blond prince's demands. Part of him was flattered that Wolfram had such a strong desire to paint him. But Yuuri also couldn't help but wish that the outcome of said paintings looked better than the strange blobs of color that Wolfram usually produced. Well, there was always hope that with enough practice, the artistic ability of the Mazoku prince would improve.

However, as Yuuri was dragged into the room, he noticed that a couple of things were different. First of all, Wolfram had no easel set up in the room, no canvas that would normally be there when he would be painting. And then, much more noticeable was the giant white tarp that was spread across at least half the length of the floor. But finally, the other unusual part of this setup was the little jars of paint that stood in a line along the edge of the tarp on the floor, rather than Wolfram's palate full of colors.

Yuuri paused, realizing that he was now out of Wolfram's grip, and stared at the display in puzzlement. "Wolfram...?"

Click. Yuuri turned his head, only to find that Wolfram had locked the door behind them.

Instead of answering to the look of his king's face, Wolfram remained completely serious. "Stand over there."

He was pointing directly to the center of the tarp. Yuuri started to argue and demand what was going on, but the look his fiancé gave him told him that there was no room for complaint, nor did Wolfram seem willing to reveal anything just yet. With a great reluctance, possibly brought on from the locked door, Yuuri sighed and moved over to stand in the indicated spot.

It was Wolfram's next demand that truly floored him. "Now take off your clothes."

"W-Wolfram!" Despite the fact that Yuuri tended to be oblivious to a lot of things, he still managed to turn bright red at the request.

"Just do it," the blond insisted, still looking quite serious, "Or shall I come over there and help you?"

The young Maou's blush burned even greater, and he glared at his fiancé. "And why should I? I don't see you taking off your clothes…"

Wait… why did he just say that? Now he was certainly doomed for sure…

Wolfram stared at him for a moment, and then rushed footsteps announced his approach to Yuuri's side. Yuuri attempted to back away, but the hand that suddenly wrapped around his arm prevented him from taking more than a step backwards. He started to squawk and fight in protest, his mouth starting to form in the shape of the other's name…

…But then something happened that he didn't expect, something that he wasn't quite used to. Wolfram quickly silenced him with a kiss.

And what was going on exactly?

Before Yuuri's brain could interpret all that was going on and respond, Wolfram had already pulled away again, still holding his arm as those large green eyes of his looked away.

"Yuuri… please? I want to paint you…" The words were so quiet that were breathed into his ear that he wasn't quite sure that he'd heard them right. And in that very brief moment, he couldn't help but notice the desperation in Wolfram's voice, the faint traces of insecure doubt that he rarely showed to anyone… And most of the fight left Yuuri in that moment.

"W-Wolfram, you just… a-and you… and I… I mean us, um…" Yuuri took a deep breath, which didn't seem to calm his nerves much. "Why are we locked in here again with a tarp?"

"I told you… I'm going to paint you. Those," Wolfram pointed to the jars lined up on the floor, "are body paints. Don't worry, wimp, they aren't toxic…"

…Wolfram hadn't been kidding about this, had he? Yuuri blushed all the more, realizing how literal the prince had been all along and he'd never noticed.

"Hey, I'm not a wimp! B-But Wolf…" After another deep breath and a sigh, he paused, noticing that Wolfram was looking like he was about to give up and storm out of the room. And well… Yuuri didn't like seeing Wolfram like that. The blond was strong, demanding, controlling… those things he understood and expected. It was this other side that confused him, the part that didn't make sense to him.

So despite his better judgment, after another moment's hesitation, he started to remove his shirt.

Yuuri was rewarded with surprised wide eyes, but they were sparkling, and even though he tried to hide it behind a serious face, it was easy to tell that this made Wolfram beyond pleased.

"Just… don't take too long, okay? I don't want to be standing around here freezing!"

Wolfram smirked, but chose not to answer as he reached for a dark blue jar.

Some time later, there were faint whispers spreading down the hallway from the gossiping maids. Strange noises were apparently coming from the locked up study, sometimes louder than others, and they didn't stop until well into the night when most of the castle was asleep.

No one ever really found out what happened though, so it was really all up to interpretation.