Title: Without Knowing It
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Characters: Yuuri/Wolfram
Rating: R
Summery: Someone's subconscious gets busy when he's asleep...

Strong confident hands lead their way teasingly over his body, playing the blonde with almost touches and achingly slow movements. A hot mouth followed, trailing the digits with tongue and teeth, sucking and licking and nipping, pulling the most delicious sounds from his partner's lips. The lithe body began to writhe, impatient and wanting, but was quickly pinned and punished with a few moments brutal nothingness, until finally, he was rewarded with a growing fullness that left him gasping and clutching the sheets.

"M- Maou-sama…"

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Yuuri awoke with a yawn and a stretch, throwing his arms above his head, causing the fabric of his blue pajama top to pull up over his stomach. He was strangely sore, worn in very odd places, which he attributed to the sword lesson Conrad had given him the previous day. Despite the slight discomfort in his muscles, the young king felt extraordinarily relaxed, almost boneless. He wiggled back under the covers, taking pleasure in the lingering warmth and took advantage of this peaceful moment, certain he'd soon be whisked off to another boring history lecture with Gunter or to fill out another mountain of paperwork with Gwendel.

Under the sheets, Yuuri felt something soft and warm. Curious and still only half awake, he poked it with his foot. It was only after it had rolled on top of him that he realized that the object was Wolfram. A very naked Wolfram.

Even though he was the Maou, Demon King and ruler of a proud people, Yuuri felt he had every right to scream like a little girl in this particular situation. And so he did just that.

Wolfram actually had the audacity to look annoyed at the noise, yet still remained stubbornly asleep, nestling closer into Yuuri's chest and mumbling softly. The brunet thought about screaming again, but considering the ineffectiveness of the last one, he settled for pushing the smaller boy off the bed completely. The fact that this revealed Wolfram's nakedness further caused Yuuri to throw the whole lot of blankets and sheets after him.

The blonde glared up at him sleepily. "Wha?"

"You were naked in my bed!" Yuuri yelled, blushing hotly. Somewhere behind a closed door, an eavesdropping maid squealed and ran off to collect on some bets.

"Well, obviously after-" Wolfram stopped abruptly and squinted at his fiancé. "Why are you dressed?"

"I'm not. I haven't taken my bath yet. I just got up and found you naked in my bed. Again! Why are you here anyway? Don't you have duties or something?"

The blonde stared, wide eyed. "I didn't dream that. I couldn't have."

Yuuri turned away as Wolfram cross the room to dress, still in a strange, confused faze. The only thing that seemed truly bizzare to Yuuri, although the incident he woke to was startling, such things were becoming disturbingly par for the course, was the other boy's lack of trademark passion. There was no annoyance or possessiveness or utter indignation at being deprived of what he was entitled to. Instead the Mazoku dressed with quiet contemplation and slight anger, which seemed to be an attempt to cover up the hurt that even Yuuri could see.

After pulling on his boots, Wolfram turned his heel and quickly stormed out of the Maou's room without saying another word. Yuuri sighed and fell back onto the bed. Wondering what had gotten into the other boy.

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The third time in as many days that he was thrown, naked, out of his fiancé's bed, Wolfram was starting to think this was an extremely sick joke that his subconscious was playing on him.

This morning Yuuri had had the forethought to roll him up in the blankets before casting him onto the floor, and the blonde struggled to free himself. The brunet ran to take refugee in the bath as Wolfram worked himself out of the prison of bedding, completely annoyed with the situation he was in.

Every night he was consumed by the most amazingly sensual, pleasurable sex of his life with the man who he'd been finding himself falling desperately in love with but who also continued to remain oblivious and ambiguous in return. Then in the morning, he would find it all a dream, a trick of the mind to torment him further, and it was really starting to piss him off. Where dream Yuuri would worship his skin and revere his nudity, normal Yuuri was scandalized and fled from it. The reality was too harsh and contrasting to bare.

However, when he finally got up, he noticed marks on his usually pristine skin. Red burns imbedded on his wrists, purpling teeth marks scattered cross his chest, and long, thin scratches on his hips were witness to the events of last night and Wolfram left his frustration deepen.

Obviously, Yuuri was molesting him while asleep and then accusing Wolfram of being the pervert in the morning. It was not a complete shock since the king was known for doing the stupidest things, especially out of ignorance.

But then he remembered a detail that he hadn't thought of before. In these nightly escapades, his lover's hair was always longer than Yuuri's normally was, and his eyes were slanted and serious. His manner was confident and controlled, something his fiancé only achieved when her transformed into the Maou.

It seemed impossible and illogical, but also seemed to be the only answer. Wolfram was a little disappointed that Yuuri was not truly making love to him, but was somewhat gleeful that the brunet's subconscious wanted to enough that he actually summoning the personification of justice from within to do it for him.

Finding where his pink nightie had been flung to this time, he smugly folded and put it away. Somehow, he couldn't keep himself from looking forward to the evening.

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Wolfram, Yuuri decided, was losing his mind. The boy had taken to humming softly and blushing for no reason when he didn't think anyone was noticing and even sometimes when he knew they were. Coupled with his strange tendency to go to sleep on the opposite side of the bed, wearing his pink nightie, but wake up cuddling Yuuri and very nude, something was just not right.

He had even implored Conrad to speak with the other Mazoku, but Wolfram had just smirked triumphantly at his half brother and swaggered away.

Finally, Yuuri determined that things were far too out of control when he opened his eyes one morning on top of Wolfram, sans pajamas. The equally naked boy didn't seem bothered at all, hands secured on his shoulder blades, preventing any chance of escape.

"Wolfram! Let me go!" he shouted, struggling slightly, but also trying not to touch anything.

"Hmm?" Lazy green eyes opened and immediately narrowed. "Oh, you're the wimp again."

"Don't call me that! And let go!"

The blonde relinquished his hold and rolled onto his side away from Yuuri, but not before the brunet caught sight of a large hickey on his neck.

"Where did you get that?" Yuuri's blood suddenly ran cold and his voice was strangely despondent.

"That you're a wimp? It's just obvious." Wolfram was burying himself back into a pillow and immediately started to snore lightly.

Yuuri grabbed him by the shoulder and pointed at the offending mark. "No, that. Where'd it come from?"

The blonde squinted at the angry face of his fiancé, appearing to have forgotten all about the fact that he wasn't wearing any clothes. "You," he responded, his mind still too groggy to realize that having this conversation was probably a bad idea.

The brunet frowned at him. "I did not! You constantly accuse me of cheating, but you're the one… having some sort of….. SORDID AFFAIR!"

Wolfram snapped to a sitting position, the accusation burning through him, and waking him up completely. "I have NOT! It was you, you stupid, indecisive, transforming, oblivious wimp!"

"I'm not a wimp! And I make decisions all the time! I'm the King! And what does transforming have anything to do with you sneaking around and letting some… SEXUAL DEMON latch onto your throat?"

The Mazoku stared incredulously. "Everything."

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It took a full week of accusing glares and whispered gossip before Wolfram finally broke under Gwendel's interrogation. Talking about his sex life was definitely not something he wanted to do with his eldest half brother, but the situation seemed too ludicrous to continue as it was. Yuuri was clearly never going to realize his feelings or desires or whatever it was that caused his nightly actions, and the chance of the evening seductions ever stopping looked slim. In fact, they were becoming more intense and the blonde was getting more eager to have some of that emotion run into the daylight as well.

Gwendel had been quite calm, despite the spontaneous twitching of his right eye, and suggested that Conrad explain the situation to his Majesty. Wolfram had refused, not wanting to involve the half human particularly because of his ambiguously close relationship to Yuuri. In the end, they compromised that both men would be present, and both privately thought this might be necessary anyway to restrain the King from jumping into the nearest body of water in hopes of returning to the other world.

Still, with Gwendel's wisdom now in control, Wolfram allowed himself a little hope that things would work themselves out. If Yuuri wasn't being a wimp, that is.

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Being told that your body is acting of its own accord in order to molest one of your friends while your mind is asleep, is a little disconcerting to say the least. Especially when said friend is a boy.

It had been explained to him several times, by both Conrad and Gwendel, but Yuuri still couldn't get his mind around it.

"So, I've been transforming into the Maou thing at night and having hot gay sex with Wolfram… and I can't remember it the next morning because I never remember anything when I'm in that form?"

"Yes." Gwendel looked more grim than usual and Conrad looked amused.

"So, when I yelled at Wolfram was sleeping around, I was wrong because it's actually me, even though it wasn't."

"Yes."

"I'm the sexual demon he's been having the sordid affair with."

"Yes." Gwendel's eye was twitching again and Conrad was trying very hard not to smile.

Yuuri looked between them, with desperation. "Why?"

Gwendel coughed and signaled to Conrad. The commander smiled, humoring him slightly. "Maybe you find him attractive but don't know how to deal with it because he's your friend and a boy?" he suggested.

He shook his head violently. "No. I don't like boys."

"You didn't like boys." Conrad nodded sympathetically. "But some part of you does now."

"Just accept it and move on. We've got more important things to do, like governing a country." Gwendel was already digging out another stack of papers and Yuuri hadn't realized the day could get any worse until he spotted them.

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It had been a month since he first found Wolfram naked in his bed, and as much as he had tried to ignore the situation, it kept escalating.

Now, everywhere he looked was another sign of his accidental seduction of Wolfram. A love bite would be just visible above the collar of his uniform, scratches and bruises appeared on the inside of his wrists when his sleeves lifted, the suspicious white goo he'd find on the sheets, a slight limp was in the blonde's step, and Yuuri suddenly couldn't look at the other boy without thinking of what his body was doing without him.

It all seemed incredibly unfair that they were having what appeared to be some amazing sex and Yuuri couldn't even remember participating in it. He thought about claiming that Wolfram was taking advantage of him, but it looked as if it was the other way around, so he stayed silent.

One night he locked Wolfram out of his room and Yuuri found himself waking in the prince's private bedchambers with rather suspicious bounds tied to the four posters and remnants of chocolate on his tongue. He didn't dare try that scheme again.

And as Wolfram became increasingly chipper and positively rumpled with lack of sleep, Yuuri brooded and scowled until jokes about him rivaling Gwendel emerged, which only made the brunet angrier.

Additionally, knowing that he was only envious of himself, made it all the worse.

But it was now clear what he had to do.

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Wolfram, humming softly, practically skipped into the Maou's room. He had showered and changed into his peach nightie, ready for another night of passion.

Initially, he had rather liked the burning annoyance that Yuuri had acquired, letting him know exactly what he was missing, and reveling in not being the jealous one for once. However, it was getting a little old and seeing his fiancé upset wasn't something he'd counted on.

Yuuri hardly even spoke to him anymore, storming off to scowl and glare, and Wolfram genuinely missed his company. The night was the only time they ever interacted now, and although it meant a lot to him, the brunet didn't even remember it, so it felt a little empty. He would trade it to get normalcy back in an instant.

However, when he turned towards the bed, he found a sight that shocked him to the core. Yuuri was there, naked and ready for him. His Yuuri, the wimp that he was, blushed but looked determined.

"Well, are you coming not?" he said with forced confidence, wringing his hands nervously.

Wolfram beamed. "I better be."