Hiya, children! Or, actually, I'm hoping you're not children if you're reading this, of all things. Never mind. Anyway, this is my first KKM fic, although I've been a fan of the series for many years. My sis has written a few, but they're all Yuuram, and while I love our little blonde dipwad, I've got my alternative preferences. What can I say? Conyuu has been my fav since I started watching (although I don't think I ever mentioned this explicitly to my sister. I think she'd be a little angry about it).

Well, enough blathering on from me. Please, enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: The writer of KKM is Japanese. What am I? Oh, that's right – I'm French Canadian and Portuguese. Can't get much further away from Japan, now could you?

It was cold. Not your normal 30-degree-weather cold, which anyone could handle, even if your nose and ears complained for your efforts. No, this was negative-twenty-five-degree-weather, which had your spit turning to ice before it even hit the ground (depending on how tall you were, of course). Shin Makoku winters were nothing to sneeze at, even if you were a trained soldier like Conrad Weller was.

Soldiers were specially trained, more often than not, to be able to withstand cold temperatures with extra precautionary equipment, such as a thing which Yuuri might've called a lighter, and a few other things to ensure that fires could be started quickly and without fuss. Typically, if your fire didn't catch in the winter, you were going to be practically an icicle by the time they found your corpse. During the day it was twenty-five below, but at night… Well, let's just say you never wanted to be caught out-of-doors at night.

So, why was Conrad exactly that? Why was he indulging in the one stupidity he never had thought capable of himself? Simple. Yuuri. The boy had heard that Shin Makoku winters were hell, but on the opposite end of the heat spectrum, so what had he done? He'd wanted to go camping. Well, that's not quite how it went. In actuality, he'd heard that there were several border towns losing substantial numbers of their populations to frostbite – people went to bed and simply never got up. He'd declared the need to supply each one of these towns with similar equipment to what was given to the military. After all, there wasn't going to be a war under his watch, so why should his people have to die from exposure to the elements when he had all these extra, super-useful things lying around the castle? Conrad loved the boy deeply, but for the love of everything demonic, couldn't he send someone else to be a little icicle-coated angel? Instead, here they were, the two of them, not counting the fifteen-odd soldiers also camped nearby, in a single tent that, while made of a special heat-trapping fabric, did very little to keep out the cold. Conrad sat on one side of the tent and Yuuri on the other. Lost in his somewhat-rebellious thoughts, Conrad wasn't paying attention to what Yuuri was saying, which was probably a first. Look what the cold did to rational minds!

"-and, I mean, if we've lived through that one mountain-climbing-adventure-nonsense, why is this supposed to be that hard? Japan's winters weren't quite this bad, but we did get some negative temperatures here and there! I don't get why people think that just because I'm silly, I'm incompetent. Just because I'm bad at one thing doesn't mean I'm bad at everything!"

"What might this one thing you're bad at be, Heika?" Conrad asked, snapping back to conversation.

Yuuri shot him a look. "Getting you to call me by name, for one. But no, really, I was going to say I'm no good at being a king."

Conrad raised an eyebrow. Here we go again.

"Gwendal takes care of more or less everything needed to support the country – I'm just a figurehead with some pretty ideals and a pushy attitude. Maybe my ideas have helped out Shin Makoku a little bit, but only because I'm not the sort of person who takes no for an answer, even if it's impossible to acquiesce to my wishes!"

"But isn't that one of Heika's good traits?"

"No, no it's not. I ask too much of people is the problem." Yuuri drew his knees up to his chest, shivering with the cold. "I ask far too much of everyone, but somehow, they're all so amazing at what they do, they manage to do it anyway. It's crazy."

"It's sensible, unlike the hour at which we're still awake."

Yuuri blinked. "Wait, what time is it?"

Conrad pulled a pocket watch from his coat. "Almost one in the morning, it would seem."

"Oh, wow! You're kidding!" Yuuri stretched his legs out and tried to get between the covers of his sleeping bag. "No wonder I thought it was getting colder… I'm going to bed; I had no idea it was that late. Are you gonna pass out, too, Conrad?"

"Heika, that might not –"

"Yuuri."

"… Yuuri, that might not be such a good idea. I'm supposed to look after the fire in the middle of camp. Make sure it doesn't burn us all to crunchy Mazoku crisps in our sleep."

"At least we'd be warm," muttered the little king, eyes already closing. Conrad chuckled quietly. He had a point there.

In the silence, Conrad pulled a small block of balsa wood out of his bag. In the cold like this, he wouldn't be able to carve anything harder than balsa, which was an extremely soft wood, usually used by beginners. Well, truth be told, he shouldn't be using knives at all when his hands were shivering this badly. But sense rarely prevails when one is bored to tears.

About twenty minutes into his carving, which was starting to take the shape of something still yet unrecognizable, Yuuri started to toss and turn a little. Conrad wasn't sure if that was the norm, since he didn't sleep in his king's room (but oh, how he'd like to), but either way, he figured, it was probably an unconscious attempt to cause friction and get warm. But the boy kept turning, muttering so quietly that the soldier wasn't sure he'd heard anything at all. The mutterings weren't comprehensible words, but they did seem to be getting a tiny bit louder each time. Did His Majesty talk in his sleep? What sort of thing would he say? Conrad was a little interested, because Yozak was a sleep-talker, too. The man had said some exceedingly interesting things in times past, and it was always a laugh to share them come morning.

But as the minutes passed, it became apparently that this was different than Yozak's ramblings about what colours of lipgloss coordinated best with the little cocktail dress he'd picked up in the town over.

Although Yuuri was the type to sleep on his stomach, tonight he was on his back, his arms bent up towards his head. Conrad had to crush the desire to brush the boy's hair out of his face, that stunning face, but surely looking was fine? Looking at a boy about a fifth your age wasn't creepy or anything, was it? Conrad was no pervert. Oh, who was he kidding? Of course he was. He was a man. A man who had fallen face-first for a sleeping not four feet away. He would be having dirty thoughts by the cartload before morning.

"...rrrhdrr…" Yuuri half-muttered, half-growled. What on Earth did that mean?

But it came again. "Hr…rrhder… nngh…" A little more understandable, but not by much. By now, he was writhing a little under the sleeping bag's covers. "Oh, God…" Yuuri breathed, arching his head back and whimpering into a low moan.

Oh no.

Oh, no no no no no no. No.

"Harder! Nnghhaaaah…mmm…"

Good God, why now? Of all times, really, why now? Stuck in a tent with a Yuuri who was probably dreaming about his betrothed in a very loud way. Oh, Goddamn. Conrad seriously considered going outside and punching a hole in the ground. Or a tree. A tree would do nicely. Maybe the pain, combined with the cold, would help to bring him back to his senses before he jumped his godchild and raped him, or something equally stupid like that. But then, a single thought blazed through Conrad's head that turned his blood as cold as the air outside.

The soldiers. All fifteen-odd of them. Could they hear what their king inadvertently said in his sleep? What if they got the wrong idea? Like, a really wrong idea that would have Wolfram charging down with a pike, all ready to have Conrad's head mounted on it and paraded around the town? And poor Yuuri… he'd get the worst of it. Conrad had noticed Wolfram's interesting habit of beating up his fiancé before glaring at whomever Yuuri had been simply talking amicably with mere moments before. For some reason, Yuuri was in the wrong twenty times more than anyone else at all times. Conrad had thought privately to himself that the relationship was a little dysfunctional, but had never voiced these thoughts aloud. Odds were that he'd only thought such a thing because he wanted the ridiculous engagement to end. But what could come of that? What was Conrad supposed to do, swoop down like a hawk and sweep Yuuri off his feet into another romance when the boy so clearly had no interest? Please. At least his little brother and little king had a better relationship than he had thought, if one was dreaming about the other in such a way. But oh, the jealously stung.

At this point, Yuuri was tossing a little more, his legs scrunching up a bit. The moans were also louder and a bit clearer. Once again, Conrad's concerns went to the hearing capabilities of the soldiers encamped nearby. Should he try and stifle the boy's moans? And if he should, how to go about it? There a few ways he could think of, but most of them were considered… ahem, inappropriate. Especially when the recipient was engaged to the initiator's younger brother.

But the kicker had yet to come.

"Aaah… Ooooh, God, please don't stop… nnnngh!" The moans were higher pitched, halfway between a whimper and a scream. It was the sexiest thing Conrad had heard to date, and that included all the times he'd walked in on people in the linen closets at Blood Pledge Castle. For some reason, people always thought that linen closets could muffle any sound. Not true. It had become purely habit to throw the door open whenever he passed one, just to hear the belated shrieks of embarrassment and smile. "Ee… eee… eyaaaaaaaaaaaa…" But this was different. Conrad tried crossing his legs, bringing them up, anything to crush his… er… reaction. "I… I luuuuuohmygooood…"

Conrad's eyebrow twitched up. What was that there?

"…I… nnngh…. I love… you…"

The world turned black. All this… for Wolfram? Why couldn't it have been Conrad Yuuri was dreaming about? Why did Wolfram get all the best things in life? It wasn't fair, it just wasn't! Conrad needed love as much as the next guy, and didn't he treat his Heika far better than his little brother had? Hadn't he always been there, every minute of every hour of every day of every year? It was bullshit. He'd been pining for a taken man. Stupidity. That's all it was. Temporary insanity. There wasn't a chance in hell of his little dreams coming true now. Not that that was a new thing to a Lion of Ruthenberg. Dreams getting trampled was practically an every-day occurrence. It was on his to-do list every week. He supposed he should've been grateful that this dream lasted as long as it had, but on the other hand, it made the sting so much more painful. Why had it entertained hope if there had been none? Why had Yuuri always come complaining about his fair fiancé to Conrad when things got rough? Why had fate been stringing him along for all this time? Two decades of it, to be exact. Well, give or take.

"…I love you… Con… rad."

Conrad froze in his seat, both literally and metaphorically, his internal, self-deprecating rant cut short. What had Yuuri just said?

"I love you… so much. Gyaaaaah! Oh, sweet Jesus… please…. harder! I love you, Conrad…" and with that, Yuuri let out a small, pure scream of ecstasy, twisting and arching under the covers.

Fuck this shit, Conrad decided.

He got up from his seat, walked all four feet to the object of his many similar past dreams, straddled to boy's hips, and kissed him soundly. Yuuri moaned and leaned up into the man above him. Their lips melded like they'd always been one being, and the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns erupted in Conrad's stomach, or so the poet in him claimed. He pulled the wrists of the boy below him above his head, continuing to taste him all he could. Yuuri might wake up soon, but maybe that wouldn't matter. Maybe things would work out for the best. He slowly licked Yuuri's lips, pushing a little, asking permission to make it a deeper kiss. Yuuri opened his mouth to the larger man without fuss or delay, surprising him, but not for long. Dear God, this was something else. Coherent thoughts fled Conrad's mind, his sanity mooning him and promptly jumping out of the seventeenth-storey window. He wasn't too sad to see it go, to be honest. But it was Yuuri's laughter that brought him back to his senses.

"… Yuuri, if you were awake all that time, why didn't you say something?" he asked.

The boy was still laughing. "Oh, I said plenty, I think. It would appear that you did, too. Hey; I was cold and needed some warming up."

Conrad shook his head, smiling gently. "This is exactly why you wanted to come with us on this trip, isn't it?"

"Oh, Conrad, my love, you flatter me. If I could think that far into the future, you would've been jumping me in my sleep a fortnight ago."

"It took effort not to, Yuuri-Heika."

"I'm still unsure as to why you held back."

"Oh, it was difficult, but my little brother might've had something to do with it."

Yuuri frowned. "Thought as much. We still have to talk this over with him, you know."

"Good point," Conrad said, frowning a little now himself. "Couldn't we send him a messenger pigeon a week or so before we get back, so he has some time to cool off?"

Yuuri tried to hide a smile and failed. "Actually, I don't think he'll be all that scandalised. He's probably smart enough to have been watching the signs and knowing what they mean."

"Doesn't mean he'll be less angry, though."

"True. Perhaps we can convince him of the merits of polygamy if all else fails."

Both men smiled at each other, foreheads touching. Somehow, their fingers had become intertwined, still suspended over Yuuri's head. Conrad nuzzled the boy's pitch-black hair, kissing him softly on the cheek. He giggled, turning his face so as to kiss his retainer properly.

"So… does this mean we're going to be getting married, eventually?" Conrad asked.

"Oh, it was the plan. But Conrad… whatever you're comfortable with, I'm comfortable with. I swear to you that much, at least. I'll stick with whatever you need."

"We don't have to talk about this now, Heika."

"Yuuri."

"Yuuri. Right. But the point is that it's very cold outside. It's very late. I'm very tired and I'm not going to be able to stop a raging fire if indeed one starts up. I want to stay in here, where it's somewhat warmer than the air out there. I wish to stay here where you are. I'm going to pass out hugging you in about ten minutes, and if you have any problems with this, you may take them to my supervisor. That is all."

"But Conrad… I'm your supervisor."

"Exactly. Now Yuuri, I mean this with all the love and affection I have to offer, which is quite a substantial amount – shut up and go to sleep. We can talk in the morning."

Indeed, they passed out in less than ten minutes, holding each other closely until the morning light decreed the day of new beginnings.

(A/N): And that's that, I suppose. I'm done. Just a really quick drabble that I whipped in an hour and a half or so. I dunno. Tell me if it's worth something, I guess. I'm not intending on continuing this one, so nobody ask me to make it anything more than a one-shot.

I want to join the Conyuu community on Livejournal, but I don't really know how to navigate the site at all. Can anyone help? (Yeah, I realise that this has nothing to do with anything else here, but I really need the help and I know some frequenters to the community probably troll the ffnet world in search of Conyuu fics, so I suppose I'm asking for their help.) Thanks in advance!

I haven't proofread any of this, so if you find anything, please tell me so I can fix it!

Y'all know the drill. Review fast or die slow. ^^