Precious Things
May. 28th, 2007 11:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poisonangelTitle: Precious Things
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Characters: Gwendal x Wolfram
Rated R
Author’s Note: I continue to fail at secrets. I wrote this for the Gwendal x Wolfram on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kkm_meme.
Gwendal had a weakness for cute things. It inspired his bizarre collection of misformed knit animals. It made him take every opportunity he could find to "inspect" the local pet shop on official kindom business. And it made him especially fond of his youngest sibling.
Wolfram had always looked like some kind of doll with his messy blonde curls and large, jade eyes set on smooth, soft skin.
When the boy was a youth, tagging along after Conrad, the favored brother, Gwendal couldn't help but admire the boy's adorable face and sweet nature. And then after Wolfram and Conrad grew distant with the kind of rage that can only grow from a deep connection of betrayed love, the boy seemed considerably older even if he was no more mature.
Wolfram was an angry young man. He kept the hurt and sadness inside while the anger and vindictiveness poured out for all to deal with. Gwendal missed his cute, baby brother even if he never spoke of it.
In fact their relationship went greatly untouched. There had been such an age gap and Gwendal had so many responsibilities that the two never really played or rough housed as other brothers might. Their relationship was almost formal and generally revolved around duty once the blonde was ready for a post in the army.
Cheri had taken care to force a promise from Gwendal to watch out for Wolfram. She need not have bothered. The man cared more than he ever let on. In truth, he cared more than he knew.
Gwendal handled Wolfram’s sword training personally one day when his other instructors were away. The boy had a lot of spirit, but it was unfocused. Gwendal pressed every advantage. Wolfram stood no chance and found himself on the other side of a very pointy sword.
Red cheeked and humiliated, Wolfram lay upon his back on the dusty training grounds beneath his older brother. His eyes were blazing furiously and he panted his breaths after the exhausting practice.
Gwendal could feel his pants tighten at the growing arousal within. His face flushed, and he immediately called off practice, saying he had more important matters to attend. He was disgusted with himself for the thoughts and feelings he was having.
And yet, that night as he lay in bed, his hand slid beneath the royal thong and caressed himself. And there in the darkness he made no pretence about what he wanted. His mind’s eye summoned Wolfram in his little blue uniform with gold trim. He kissed those pink lips until they were almost red and undressed him. The boy squirmed between his muscled thighs. Wolfram was pale and nearly hairless and still looking so much like a perfectly adorable doll.
His hips rocked upward, into his hand as he pictured Wolfram bent over a table, his pert ass puckered as he pushed his legs widely apart to accept him. He made such beautiful sounds in his mind as Gwendal climaxed to the scene.
Once his arousal evacuated itself, so did the contents of his stomach. He was ashamed of his desires.
And he pulled away from his family and friends more than usual. Work was an easy excuse with his mother distancing herself from the duties of her rank and no prophesied new maou in sight. He was already known for being solitary and stoic, so aside from a few worried looks from his mother and a couple of annoyed demands from Anissina, the seclusion went almost entirely unnoticed.
At least he thought so.
Gwendal was just finishing another stack of paperwork when his door flung open unceremoniously and Wolfram stomped into his office. Anger and arrogance and something else mixed in his expression and Gwendal narrowed his eyes in annoyance, telling him to leave. But the youth did not leave. He demanded to know why his oldest brother had been avoiding him.
It was just like Wolfram to think everything was about him. And yet, this time he was correct.
The blonde irresponsibly swept the papers from Gwendal’s desk and the older man grabbed his wrist firmly and then the other as it flung around to hit him. He yanked Wolfram around the desk and pushed him against the wall. With a few quick motions, he had those arms secured above his brother’s head, fastened by the tiebacks on his drapes. Navy eyes showing more energy and emotion than they ever dared before.
To this day the older mazoku doesn’t know why it happened. Maybe it was the repressed feelings or the lack of sleep or the way he missed contact with others, but whatever the case, his resolve weakened and he took Wolfram’s mouth against his own. There was no sweetness in their first kiss. It was demanding and bold and when it broke it was immediately reissued by the smaller man.
This only confused Gwendal, making it even more impossible to think straight. So he didn’t think. He just acted out the things his body and mind had been craving since that practice weeks ago. And Wolfram responded just as he had in his fantasies. Why would he do that? He was so perfectly receptive and submissive and those sounds! He made the most beautiful sounds that night and many other nights as well.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Characters: Gwendal x Wolfram
Rated R
Author’s Note: I continue to fail at secrets. I wrote this for the Gwendal x Wolfram on
kkm_meme.Gwendal had a weakness for cute things. It inspired his bizarre collection of misformed knit animals. It made him take every opportunity he could find to "inspect" the local pet shop on official kindom business. And it made him especially fond of his youngest sibling.
Wolfram had always looked like some kind of doll with his messy blonde curls and large, jade eyes set on smooth, soft skin.
When the boy was a youth, tagging along after Conrad, the favored brother, Gwendal couldn't help but admire the boy's adorable face and sweet nature. And then after Wolfram and Conrad grew distant with the kind of rage that can only grow from a deep connection of betrayed love, the boy seemed considerably older even if he was no more mature.
Wolfram was an angry young man. He kept the hurt and sadness inside while the anger and vindictiveness poured out for all to deal with. Gwendal missed his cute, baby brother even if he never spoke of it.
In fact their relationship went greatly untouched. There had been such an age gap and Gwendal had so many responsibilities that the two never really played or rough housed as other brothers might. Their relationship was almost formal and generally revolved around duty once the blonde was ready for a post in the army.
Cheri had taken care to force a promise from Gwendal to watch out for Wolfram. She need not have bothered. The man cared more than he ever let on. In truth, he cared more than he knew.
Gwendal handled Wolfram’s sword training personally one day when his other instructors were away. The boy had a lot of spirit, but it was unfocused. Gwendal pressed every advantage. Wolfram stood no chance and found himself on the other side of a very pointy sword.
Red cheeked and humiliated, Wolfram lay upon his back on the dusty training grounds beneath his older brother. His eyes were blazing furiously and he panted his breaths after the exhausting practice.
Gwendal could feel his pants tighten at the growing arousal within. His face flushed, and he immediately called off practice, saying he had more important matters to attend. He was disgusted with himself for the thoughts and feelings he was having.
And yet, that night as he lay in bed, his hand slid beneath the royal thong and caressed himself. And there in the darkness he made no pretence about what he wanted. His mind’s eye summoned Wolfram in his little blue uniform with gold trim. He kissed those pink lips until they were almost red and undressed him. The boy squirmed between his muscled thighs. Wolfram was pale and nearly hairless and still looking so much like a perfectly adorable doll.
His hips rocked upward, into his hand as he pictured Wolfram bent over a table, his pert ass puckered as he pushed his legs widely apart to accept him. He made such beautiful sounds in his mind as Gwendal climaxed to the scene.
Once his arousal evacuated itself, so did the contents of his stomach. He was ashamed of his desires.
And he pulled away from his family and friends more than usual. Work was an easy excuse with his mother distancing herself from the duties of her rank and no prophesied new maou in sight. He was already known for being solitary and stoic, so aside from a few worried looks from his mother and a couple of annoyed demands from Anissina, the seclusion went almost entirely unnoticed.
At least he thought so.
Gwendal was just finishing another stack of paperwork when his door flung open unceremoniously and Wolfram stomped into his office. Anger and arrogance and something else mixed in his expression and Gwendal narrowed his eyes in annoyance, telling him to leave. But the youth did not leave. He demanded to know why his oldest brother had been avoiding him.
It was just like Wolfram to think everything was about him. And yet, this time he was correct.
The blonde irresponsibly swept the papers from Gwendal’s desk and the older man grabbed his wrist firmly and then the other as it flung around to hit him. He yanked Wolfram around the desk and pushed him against the wall. With a few quick motions, he had those arms secured above his brother’s head, fastened by the tiebacks on his drapes. Navy eyes showing more energy and emotion than they ever dared before.
To this day the older mazoku doesn’t know why it happened. Maybe it was the repressed feelings or the lack of sleep or the way he missed contact with others, but whatever the case, his resolve weakened and he took Wolfram’s mouth against his own. There was no sweetness in their first kiss. It was demanding and bold and when it broke it was immediately reissued by the smaller man.
This only confused Gwendal, making it even more impossible to think straight. So he didn’t think. He just acted out the things his body and mind had been craving since that practice weeks ago. And Wolfram responded just as he had in his fantasies. Why would he do that? He was so perfectly receptive and submissive and those sounds! He made the most beautiful sounds that night and many other nights as well.
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-29 02:43 am (UTC)Good work. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2007-05-29 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-04 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-04 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-06 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-06 08:50 pm (UTC)I don't usually do sequels, and I don't think this one is going to be an exception. But thanks for reading!