…EXTRA…

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The Days Which Followed

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A folded sheet of paper and a tarnished button were placed back into the end table drawer and closed.

Lightning flashed through the narrow gap in the curtains and Yuuri pulled the covers around his cold shoulders a little bit tighter. Ordinarily, a storm wouldn't bother him, but this one did. His eyes drifted to the door and, with a sigh, he tried to close his eyes and will himself to sleep.

The wind picked up with a raspy breath, suddenly rattling the doors to the balcony and there was a sound like gravel hitting against something. His brain slowly pieced together that there had to be some hail mixed in with the rain. The double black hoped that the local crops would be able to tolerate it. If not, there would be hard times ahead. But he didn't want to think about that. He would cross that bridge if and when he'd come to it. But that was his philosophy about ruling the kingdom—deal with things when they come. Worry never gave an ounce of comfort.

And, certainly, no sleep…which was why he went back to staring at the canopy above his bed.

No good.

He rolled over onto his side. Again.

Through the gap between the bedroom door and the floor, Yuuri could make out feet trudging back and forth in the hallway. A pair made their way forward and the bedroom door opened with a soft, wooden groan.

"Wolf?"

Wolfram, drenched from the storm, entered and made a short, sweeping gesture. The candle on the blond's side of the bed flickered into life. And Yuuri squinted at it.

"Yes," Wolfram said distractedly, blond hair plastered down and uniform thoroughly soaked to the skin, clinging to him.

The double black pushed himself up in bed to see him better. "Wolf, why didn't you take a bath to warm up? You look so miserable right now. You'll probably catch cold if you don't."

"No thanks," he said and reached into the closet. There was a white hand towel in with his wooden bucket of bath things. He took that and dried his limp hair. A good shimmy with it made him only slightly less damp-looking and fuzzy at the tip ends of his hair. "I just really wanted to come home. And when the storm started, half way from the temple, I decided to keep pushing on…moving forward…so that I could sleep next to you tonight." Wolfram shivered and began searching the closet for his favorite pink nightie.

"My pajamas," Yuuri said in the tone that meant "no arguments." He pointed to the dresser. "Take the light blue pair. They're warmer."

The blond hesitated for only a moment—not wanting to take Yuuri's things. Besides, the pair he mentioned had black piping along the edges and was made for a maou, not a consort. But, to Yuuri, he knew, such things were inconsequential at best and seen as silly at worst. Involuntarily, the blond shivered again as he went to fetch the pajamas from the top drawer.

"So, what did Murata want at the temple?" Yuuri asked as his husband shed his clothing. The jacket fell with a distracting, wet "sh-lop" to the floor. "You know, for some reason, it seemed like he wanted to run an idea by you."

Murata had sent a pigeon over to the castle after lunchtime and Wolfram, with a suspicious eyebrow raised, reluctantly agreed to go. After taking tea with Greta, Yuuri followed his husband to the stables, gave a quick kiss, and watched Wolfram leave on his white steed.

There hadn't been a cloud in the sky back then.

Lightning flashed and rain splattered harder.

"So, what…exactly… was it, Wolf?"

Abruptly, Wolfram turned around, still shoving his arms into the pajama top. Then, he stepped widely over the wet pile he'd made, water spreading out lazily on the stone floor. "Let me tell you something, Yuuri," he fumed unexpectedly, making the double black surprised at him, "that bastard can really get to me sometimes!"

"Whoa…" Yuuri was now sitting up fully in the bed, his head cocked curiously. "What happened?"

"That idiot," Wolfram growled, "wanted us to suddenly drop what we're doing and go on a hunt for a book in a stuffy old bookshop somewhere in the von Christ lands because it can teach you a spell on how to trace an enemy by using the astral plane." Stiffly, he began buttoning up the top, but his icy fingers were refusing to work as well as they usually did. "And, you know, he doesn't know exactly where it is, either. So, guess what?" the blond went on sarcastically, "He wants us to all go gallivanting around like we have all the time in the world." Angrily, Wolfram shook his head at that, making his hair frizz even more.

"So, uh…what did you say?" But Yuuri had no doubts about it.

Wolfram's face hardened. "I told him to go fuck himself."

Yuuri's eyes popped open at that. Wolfram rarely cursed.

"Yuuri," Wolfram growled, thinking that his husband was disagreeing with him, "in three days, we are celebrating Greta's birthday. Three! Days!" He counted off on his fingers. "We've got the cake, the flowers, the ribbons, the presents, guests are already arriving…"

"I know," Yuuri agreed in a calming voice, trying to lower the volume a little. But pacifying Wolfram was very hard sometimes.

The blond pointed in the direction of Shinou's Temple—angry and offended at it all. "They can't tell me what to do… Not The Great Sage, not Shinou, not those blasted temple maidens…!" He approached the bed, eyes shining with passion. "Greta, our Greta, is human. And I know that humans on Earth live until they are eighty or ninety…maybe, one hundred… But, in Shin Makoku, they typically live until they are sixty." He looked down for a second. "Had I been born human, I would be safely in my grave by now."

Wolfram wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. But, this time, Yuuri wasn't certain if it was the cold that made him do that.

Wolfram's voice grew low: "It's not like with the boys. We don't have centuries… We have, maybe, decades with her… Maybe… So, every birthday, to me, is precious and irreplaceable…a time to celebrate that we still have her."

Wolfram fingered idly with the black hoop in his left ear as he spoke—a habit he'd developed not long after he'd gotten it.

One month before the wedding, Waltorana von Bielefeld sent a formal letter to his nephew, the consort-to-be. It had just happened to arrive when the blond was in a meeting with Yuuri, Gwendal, Günter, and Conrad finalizing plans on security for the honeymoon. Instead of the usual pigeon, a majestic trumpeter swan flew through the window and offered up a message on its leg, wrapped in the blue ribbons of the House of von Bielefeld. Once the message was taken, the winged-creature flew through the open window to a more comfortable venue: the castle moat.

Wolfram, gave everyone a quick glance, and then scanned the message, nodding as he went. "Agreed," was all he said.

Yuuri didn't understand the ceremony at the time, but two weeks before the wedding, everyone in the wedding party made a brief trip to Bielefeld Castle. The white chapel was decorated with ribbons, flowers, sticks of burning incense, a blue carpeted isle, and a lone, high-backed chair facing the altar. Yuuri marveled at it all, craning his head to look at the ceiling where bouquets of dried herbs were hanging down, while Günter dutifully guided him by the arm to his official place to stand. The double black turned to the side as he watched Wolfram enter with his mother, in a dark blue gown—which seemed to annoy Waltorana—and his older brothers following a few steps behind. They took their seats (as did Yuuri, as king and husband-to-be). A priestess wearing a shimmering silver and blue gown accompanied by a lavender-haired healer in a white pantsuit came forward, speaking words in Old Mazoku—which The Maou, within, seemed to understand even if Yuuri didn't.

And then, from a brown, woven basket at the front of the chapel, a small bag of ice and a large needle were produced and held up high for all to see.

"What are they doing?" Yuuri quickly hissed to Günter. But, before his advisor could respond, they had taken Wolfram's ear and pierced it. The blond didn't seem to respond. Not even a flinch, head held high. And when a black metal hoop was blessed and brought forth, he waited calmly for them to insert it.

The double black cringed. "Just like that? Ouch, Wolf."

The healer cupped her hands around his ear. Then, a green healing glow shined out from between her fingers and, within a matter of moments, the small, metal hoop became one continuous ring of metal in Wolfram's ear and the hole was healed entirely.

He would never be able to remove it.

"Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld," Waltorana said majestically as he faced his nephew with a glowing pride no one had witnessed in decades, "the circle is complete. You may now stand in the presence of your family and fiancé."

Wolfram stood, chin up and shoulders back.

"Congratulations!" his uncle said, eyes glowing with pride. And everyone in the room clapped. Greta came forward, gave an excited cheer, and tossed a handful of magnolia leaves at him for luck.

Günter sniffed a little into his ivory, lace hankie. "A beautiful ceremony." He turned to the double black. "Now, the von Bielefeld family has officially handed him over to you. Well, technically, his body belongs to you. So, now, the wedding is just a formality…a party, if you will."

Yuuri stared incredulously at Günter. "Why didn't anyone tell me?" He didn't want to feel like he owned Wolfram. He wanted to be together but with something more akin to companionship and equality.

"Oh?" the lilac haired advisor said, sniffing again. "You mean you don't have such ceremonies on Earth? That's entirely too bad."

Yuuri looked to his right and saw Wolfram standing there—lightly fingering his black hoop earring. "So, Yuuri," he asked with a slight hesitation, "do you…like it?" This was more than a question about fashion. Wolfram seemed to feel uncertain about his fiancé's feelings about the ceremony. And, should Yuuri act out now or behave in a way that was unexpected, Wolfram would never be able to live it down.

And he had just been so proud only moments before.

No, this was Wolfram's day, he decided. He wouldn't ruin it.

"Stop looking so worried, Wolf," Yuuri said as he brushed blond hair away so that he could see the small earring better. "This is really kind of cool."

"Then, you're really fine with it?" he asked quietly, hope rising in his voice.

Hope. He could give Wolfram that.

Black eyes met uncertain green ones. "Yeah, I am."

A shiver.

Wolfram stood before him, fingering the black hoop in his ear—his mind occupied. The consort blinked back into the moment when Yuuri pulled away the covers and said, "Get in. You're still shivering and I don't want you sick. So, no arguments…get in. Okay?"

The blond nodded, noting that Yuuri was now on his side of the bed. "I still think your best friend is a total prick, though."

"Yes, yes," Yuuri soothed, pulling the blankets over them both. "And, to make things easier, I'll have a talk with Murata tomorrow…explain everything." Yuuri raised himself up on his elbow, leaned over, and raked his fingers through damp, blond hair and then grasped his fingers around the hoop which was frigid to the touch, slowly warming it. "And, after that, if you want…I'll go looking for the book with him and you can stay here."

"No way," he breathed as a shiver. "I'm coming…just not now. Not this week." He shifted in the bed so that he could look Yuuri in the eye. "Get it?"

"Yeah, I do," the double black agreed, gently pushing Wolfram onto his back. He was half on top of him, trying to spread as much warmth from his body as he could give. "Y-Yuuri?" Wolfram's face softened, looking up into him—green eyes, deep and liquid—so full of emotion. The blond wrapped his arms around Yuuri's neck, arching up and into him. The double black's mind flicked to the days before their wedding. They still had little more than a kissing relationship back then. For some reason, it seemed to satisfy both Wolfram and The Maou within himself. Soft touches and wrapping an arm around the other's waist gave the greatest comfort most of the time. But, Yuuri secretly worried about what to do on his wedding night. He suspected that he'd feel the same way even if Wolfram had been born a woman.

Simply not knowing could be a terrifying thing, he soon discovered. The double black feared "awkward" more than he feared failure. And avoiding well-intentioned advice from Gissela, Lady Cheri, and—worst of all, Conrad (Gulp!)—didn't help matters. Yuuri had to make sure that, before the wedding, he was never alone with any of them. And that was tough.

Sneaking into the "adult" section of the library late at night was no easy matter, either, but was his best chance of learning what he needed to know without making an unexpected, and unwelcomed by Wolfram, trip to Earth. On the first night that he'd tried it, Yuuri noticed three books on the shelf that seemed good but not scandalous. Mastering the Loving Basics Part II, Anatomical Positions and Mazoku Magic: Getting the Greatest Pleasure, and Winning the Heart, Body, and Soul. Yuuri really liked that last one. Yes, a good title. He'd read it first.

He cracked open the book and began thumbing through it. "Oh, joy," he murmured sarcastically, "it's got pictures." He furrowed his brow as he twisted the book in his hands to an odd angle to see better, "What is this? Yoga?"

"Yuuri?"

The double black put a hand to his chest, heart thumping way too hard. Oh, Hell! He had no idea that Wolfram had followed him and no idea what, exactly, his fiancé would do now.

Wolfram, wearing his white bathrobe to cover up the pink nightie, suddenly appeared before the desk. His hair was disheveled and he stifled a yawn. "Yuuri? What are…?" The blond turned his head to the side, reading the titles of the books. His eyes grew wider and wider with each one. He picked up Anatomical Positions and practically choked on his saliva just from reading the purple, glittery cover. "Yuuri…what the hell?"

Instinct told him to cower back into his chair. "Well," the double black began nervously, feeling as though he'd just been caught with porn. And it wasn't porn, exactly. He was just seeking advice from experts. That was all. And his wedding was coming up. And people do those kinds of things on their wedding night, don't they? Nobody has a platonic wedding night, right?

Yuuri shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. And The Maou gave a hearty laugh from within. "Shut up," he hissed.

"What?"

"Uhhh…nothing?" the double black gritted his teeth into a pained grin.

Wolfram tossed the book back onto the desk like a Frisbee and folded his arms defensively. "Were you trying to see what you're in for…so you could talk yourself out of it? Or even the wedding…?" He fingered the hoop in his ear.

Yuuri frowned and stood up from the desk. "I was just curious. Can't I be curious?" What was wrong with that? It was the truth. "It wasn't like I preferred these etchings over you." He gestured to his small collection of books.

A glare from Wolfram was his only answer as the blond stalked out of the room, disgruntled. And Yuuri, for the first time in their relationship, felt heartsick at that. Was Wolfram mad? Disappointed? Dissatisfied with those answers? It was impossible to tell. And then Yuuri realized, in what seemed to be a reoccurring epiphany, that his once determined fiancé had doubts. But not just about the wedding. But about how serious he was concerning their future together.

Maybe, they had not built as much trust and understanding as he'd thought.

But, instead of staying away from the library, Yuuri did just the opposite. He decided to study more, to study harder. For once, he wanted to learn.

From one book, Yuuri found out that most fire wielders had stubborn natures, short tempers, and fiery spirits. (No big surprise there.) They were supposedly sexually aggressive and promiscuous, too, and many erotic novels had been written about them. Water magic, when used against them in battle, could not only do major physical damage but sap their emotional strength as well. Another book preached that fire wielders and water wielders should never marry. They were simply too different. (Yuuri decided to flat out ignore that piece of advice.) While still another old tome that Yuuri felt The Maou had drawn him to in the library encouraged handholding, gentle kisses on the knuckles, and tender words of admiration when the chaperone wasn't looking. In the marriage bed, the person who was higher in status would always be the instigator and would always be the "lion." Yuuri had no idea what was meant by "lion," so he decided to let that go. Besides, he had his own general notion about the way things should be between them.

The royal wedding was, as Günter had predicted, a beautiful party with bright pink roses from the garden, blue and black ribbons, piles of presents, and a gigantic seven tiered cake covered in white frosting roses. A fine celebration of two becoming one. But Wolfram had been Yuuri's a full fortnight before that. The black hoop in his ear was noticed by everyone who admired him at the reception. It was a clear indication that he was successful—for von Bielefelds always marked their achievements with jewelry of some sort—and that, by the black color, he belonged to the country's maou.

With an unwavering voice, Yuuri had said, "As maou of Shin Makoku, I take thee as my spouse" and the ring was placed on Wolfram's finger. But, as they readied Yuuri's wedding ring to be placed on his finger, Wolfram had just enough time to play with his small hoop earring with a smile coming to him.

And Yuuri thought it was cute.

But, the wedding night made Yuuri more than anxious. He was on edge and could feel his heart thumping in his chest unmercifully. It was hard to take. To make things worse, Wolfram had been talking to him casually- as though it had been a typical night. Nothing special. He'd hung up his blue dress uniform on hangers and was in his black thong, now, searching in the closet for something to wear to bed.

Back still turned to him, the blond had been saying something—talking to him—but the words were slipping through Yuuri's mind like sand. Yuuri, dressed in his new pajamas, forced himself to focus. This was not the way to be.

He blinked up into green eyes. Far too close to him.

"Are you okay, Yuuri? I was saying 'thank you' for the new ring you gave me. The Maou's Tear ring that was wrapped up in bows on the dresser, you know?"

The double black leaned away, surprised, until he noticed the ring Wolfram was showing him on his forefinger. He'd placed it on the same hand as his wedding ring. Wolfram wriggled his fingers and his new jewelry caught the light and shined.

The Maou's Tear ring. A gift from The Maou himself. Yuuri felt a bit of smugness from within and a "Thou art welcome."

"Uh…Yeah…"

Yuuri put a hand behind his head and chuckled to show that he was fine. No big deal. He could handle tonight. He'd managed to speed read a few books at the last moment and he thought he had the basic theories of "How to do it" down. But, now…in practice…

"Okay," the blond said flatly, but knowing that Yuuri really was not okay. He pointed to the bed. "By the way, The Great Sage has given you a wedding gift. He said to open it tonight so…"

On the royal bed, which was decorated with red rose petals on the shimmering, satiny-white sheets, there was an oversized box. It was wrapped in pale blue paper with a black bow on top. The young king eyed it suspiciously. This was from Murata, after all. As he came closer, he noticed a card. With trepidation, he opened the envelope with Wolfram peeking over his shoulder. Never mind that it was written in Japanese and the blond couldn't fathom the words. It was probably curiosity that made Wolfram stand by his elbow right now.

"Well?" he asked and Yuuri swallowed thickly.

"It says…uhhh… 'A gift for you but the Royal Consort should wear it'. I don't know what that means, though."

Wolfram, still only in his black thong, sat on the bed with a bounce. A large box—a big present—was such a curious thing. He had to know what was inside. "May I open it, then?"

An uneasy smile. "S-Sure."

Slim fingers gently unfolded the paper out of respect for the gift and The Great Sage, Yuuri's best friend. The crinkling of the paper was about to drive Yuuri insane but he held himself in check, waiting, until the white gift box was gently slid forward.

The tip end of Wolfram's pink tongue darted from the corner of his mouth in anticipation as he opened the box and fluffed away the paper within.

Yuuri almost fainted when Wolfram pulled out a pair of black cat ears, a long tail, leather short-shorts, long gloves, and a net halter top. The blond placed each article of clothing across the bed and, then, laughed at them.

He gave his new husband a double take. "What's the matter?"

Yuuri gave him a blank stare.

"Yuuri," Wolfram said, resting a hand against his hip in a knowing way, "this is clearly a wedding night joke. It's tradition here."

"It…is?" The double black felt only a bit better at that.

Wolfram nodded at it and seemed to mirror Günter for a second, when he was lecturing on the history of Shin Makoku and felt that his information was absolutely right. "Plus, seeing a cat on your wedding day is considered good luck. Their eye-shine was once considered to be the highest level of magic possible…a legend now, of course."

The blond almost reverently returned the costume to the box, but not without pretending to try on the cat ears. He noticed a smile coming from Yuuri and decided that the traditional "wedding night joke" really did break the tension between them. And that felt good.

With the box on the dresser, the blond turned and asked, "Do you want to go to bed now?" He took Yuuri by the hand, leading him in the right direction. "You're probably tired. You've had a long day."

The double black walked stiffly behind his new spouse. And some part of his mind was still trying to accept that he was no longer single, would be forever married to his favorite fire Mazoku, and that this was his wedding night.

Oh, yeah…and Wolfram was a guy.

"Those black silk pajamas look good on you," the blond said with a side glance. "I think I'm just going to stay as I am for tonight." Wolfram took Yuuri to his side of the bed, pulled back the covers, and practically tucked him in like a child with one of the kisses that Yuuri seemed so fond of—a ticklish kiss on the nose.

He wrinkled at it but smiled.

Then, Wolfram walked around the bed to his own side, got in, and smiled. "It was a beautiful wedding," he said a little dreamily. "Mother did an excellent job."

"Yeah," Yuuri agreed.

And, with that, Wolfram rolled over onto his side, snapped his fingers, and the room went dark.

The bed felt bigger than usual. A little lonely, really. The double black found himself frowning a little at that. Wolfram had made this entirely too easy for him. No expectations. No demands. And no encouragement, either. Worst of all, all of his studying would go to waste—all of it for their sakes—if he didn't do something.

Just pluck up the courage.

And, so, he did.

Yuuri crawled across the bed and spooned up next to Wolfram, getting a surprised, "Y-Yuuri?" in the dark. The double black placed his arm behind Wolfram's head, making a pillow of it and making the blond raise his chin. Receiving a fluttering kiss as he did so. It grew into something more relaxed between them, more intimate than the other kisses they'd shared before. And, as they did so, Yuuri felt the need to explore—which Wolfram granted—to allow as much or as little affection as Yuuri was capable of giving. And Yuuri soon realized that his fears of Wolfram, of being close to him, were all unfounded. Wolfram was never a sexual deviant or was aggressive in bed. He would never have hurt in a way like that.

Being together mattered. Being held mattered—even if it was just holding hands. Or like, on this night, something more.

Lightning flashed through the window again, illuminating the pale features of the blond lying with him. Wolfram's arms were still placed around Yuuri's neck, fingers laced together. Green eyes grew soft once more. Damp hair fell away from his face. He arched upward, lips parted slightly. The hint of a pink tongue.

And shivered.

Yuuri chuckled to himself, pulled Wolfram into a tight embrace, and said, "You're exhausted and freezing cold. Come here." And, with that, he lightly pushed Wolfram down and rolled his body half on top of the blond. Yuuri's finger traced a small heart against the pajama top.

A soft peck on the cheek.

Yuuri closed his eyes, content now with a sigh proving it to Wolfram, and all too soon, sleep took the double black. Soft, even breaths.

Wolfram felt neither disappointment nor anger that his intentions were rejected. Then again, in a way, it wasn't rejection so much as it was a postponement. Yuuri was doing what was best. Wolfram knew that. And, with gratitude, the blond melted appreciatively into the warmth that Yuuri offered from his body. The fire wielder in him craved it, nuzzled close, and drank in the feeling, for it was offered out of love and affection.

A wry smile. Finally, by some miracle, he had it. Love. And Shibuya Wolfram vowed to never take it for granted.

This was why he'd traveled through the miserable, freezing rain. For this. For a warmth only the two of them could make. That only the two of them could share with each other. And that feeling made everything worthwhile.

He was so insanely lucky.

"Thank you, Yuuri."

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-THE END-