Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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Fic, KKM, Say It Like You Mean It

Title: Say It Like You Mean It [Yuuri/Wolfram]
Rating/Warnings: Hard R for what Yuuri thinks is dirty talk. And Yozak.
Summary: Wolfram stumbles upon a conversation that is not for delicate ears, and Murata thinks Yuuri ought to make the most of the situation.
AN: Thanks to ramen_addict for the beta, and to marksykins for having ridiculous AIM conversations with me. And to Yozak, for making sure that I never ever write a KKM fic rated anything less than PG-13.


Say It Like You Mean It

Anyone of proper breeding, especially one with the particularly noble von Bielefelt lineage, knows that eavesdropping is coarse and vulgar behavior. But if you were getting a book from the library and happened to be standing behind a shelf when your fiancé happened to come in the door talking, well, there's nothing wrong with that at all.

Those are just coincidences. Besides, fiancé.

"…know I'm not supposed to," Yuuri was saying, making Wolfram's ears perk. "But that's just the way it is, you know?"

"That's how it is, hn?" The other voice definitely belonged to the Sage, and Wolfram was immediately affronted by how casually he was responding to the Maou's confession of cheating.

"Yeah." Yuuri at least had the grace to sound a little sheepish. The voices were getting closer to where Wolfram was not hiding even a little, but then there was a whump noise as Yuuri threw his graceless halfblood self into one of the chairs strewn about for reading. "I like it."

"That's not surprising, I suppose," Murata murmured, and there was a much more refined whump as he took a nearby chair for himself. Wolfram rolled his eyes because he had been obviously about to use one of those chairs, but went back to focusing on the titles of the books in front of him.

He couldn't help it if his demon hearing was exceptionally sharp.

"You don't think so?" Yuuri was asking. His voice was a little muffled for a moment, then cleared up. "You don't think it's weird that I like it?"

"Sucking it?" Murata asked, and Wolfram dropped a book on his very well-bred foot. Fortunately Murata's voice must have drowned out his melodious yet forceful curse, because they were still talking. "…guess lots of people must."

"I haven't asked that many people, really," Yuuri answered, making them both laugh. The book was still lying on the floor, but Wolfram stared at it stupidly as his fiancé blathered on. "I like the way the ridges kind of scrape at my tongue a little, and then the salt makes it sting."

Oh god. Oh god, Yuuri did? Wolfram's clothes seemed scratchy and hot all of the sudden. They shouldn't burn so many candles in this stupid library, those books were made of paper after all!

"Do you now?" Murata was clearly fighting laughter, and Wolfram felt his cheeks burn. How dare that stupid Sage laugh at Yuuri's preferences! And how dare Yuuri talk about his preferences to the Sage in the first place!

"Ne, Shibuya, but don't you think it's gross when it goes all soft in the end?"

"No! That's the best part!"

"OI!" Wolfram shouted, storming out from behind the shelf. Yuuri yelped and sank into his chair a little deeper; Murata just regarded Wolfram evenly. "Just WHAT do you think you two are doing?!"

"Just talking," Murata shrugged a little, ignoring the whimper from Yuuri. "Want a pretzel stick?"

"A…what?" Wolfram blinked at the bag Murata was holding out, which was full of the big sort of pretzel sticks, ones that were nearly the length of his forearm and a quarter-inch in diameter.

"Pretzel stick," Yuuri said meekly, voice muffled, and Wolfram looked closer and saw that Yuuri had the end of one in his mouth. "Do they have them here? They're good."

"Normal people crunch them," Murata added, shaking the bag a little. "But Yuuri likes to suck on his."

Jaw dropping, Wolfram looked back at Yuuri, who still had the pretzel stick in his mouth. Yuuri quailed a little under the attention, but he kept working the pretzel stick anyway, sliding it back and forth across his lips a little, fidgeting fingers across the bottom of it.

The crack of Murata biting down on his pretzel stick rang out in the library like a shot, making Wolfram start, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

"You okay, von Bielefelt?" Murata asked. "You look a little flushed."

"Fine, I'm fine!" Wolfram barked. "It's just stuffy in here, I'm going for some air!"

Beating a hasty retreat from the library, Wolfram couldn't even remember what he'd gone in there for in the first place.

******

"What was that all about?" Yuuri asked as Wolfram stormed from the library. He jumped when Murata erupted into laughter.

"He must have been a little startled by our conversation," he gasped, taking off his glasses to wipe at his eyes.

"Why?" Yuuri pulled the pretzel stick out of his mouth with a small pop and furrowed his brow. "We were just talking about pretzel sticks."

"Pretend for a minute we weren't." Murata pinned Yuuri with a smirk, polishing his glasses on his shirt. "You like to suck it, and there's ridges and it's salty…"

"And the end is the best part!" Yuuri's eyes went wide with horror as he wailed, "Murata! Wolfram's going to kill me!"

"Why? You like that too, don't you?"

"Murata!" Yuuri's cheeks darkened and he stuck the pretzel stick back in his mouth. "Yeah, but so what? Did you see his face? His eyes were all big and scary, and the vein on his forehead was pulsing again!"

"He liked it," Murata announced, slipping his glasses back on. Yuuri squawked a protest. "Come on, Shibuya, are you blind? He was all flushed."

"Flushed with rage, you stupid Sage!" Yuuri snatched one of the little purple Gwendal pillows off his chair and hurled it at Murata's head. Murata batted it away and smirked harder.

"What was he hiding behind that shelf for then?" he asked. Yuuri shifted in his chair a little. "Face it, your fiancé gets hot for a little dirty talk."

"No way!" Yuuri shook his head, blush spreading a little further. "Wolfram would never do that kind of thing."

"That's exactly why you should," Murata insisted, pulling out another pretzel stick to crunch on. "It might give you the upper hand for once. Unless you like playing the slightly deflowered shrine maiden?"

"It's not that!" Yuuri looked at his hand when he heard the crack and realized he had snapped his pretzel stick into several pieces. He picked up one of the smaller pieces to pop in his mouth and chewed quietly for a few moments. "He's just more experienced than me, is all. He knows what he's doing."

"Shibuya, how many times do you have to do it before you understand the mechanics of the process?" Murata rolled his eyes. "You're the Maou, aren't you? I'm telling you, if you don't start taking charge before you two go the whole way, you'll regret it."

"What do you know about it anyway?" Yuuri snapped. Murata blinked back stoically until Yuuri realized just how stupid a question that really was.

Maybe he did have a point after all, Yuuri admitted grudgingly to himself as he chewed another piece of pretzel. Wolfram liked being in charge, Yuuri thought, and he didn't mind just following his fiancé's lead—what if he did something wrong and hurt Wolfram?—but a little variety wouldn't, you know, kill anybody.

Except maybe him.

"Dirty talk, hn?" Yuuri asked.

"Yes," Murata answered firmly, "but you can't blush like that. You have to be firm, be manly! I know who we should get to help."

******

"No," Yuuri shook his head violently, "oh no, no way!"

"Aw, c'mon, kiddo." Yozak batted curled eyelashes at him and Yuuri grabbed Murata's arm in a bruising grip. "I won't hurt you. Much."

"What happened to being manly?" Yuuri demanded of Murata.

"Yozak's more of a man than your fiancé," Murata pointed out, prying Yuuri's fingers off his arm and pushing him towards Yozak. "Go on, make me proud. I want him with a mouth like a Shimeron pirate by the end of the day, Yozak."

"Understood, Sage." Yozak grinned a little wider and saluted Murata, then patted the cushion next to him on the couch. "Get over here, Your Majesty."

"Yozak!" Yuuri protested when Yozak grabbed his wrist and yanked him down on the couch. "There's no way I can do this. And Wolfram's going to kill me."

"Pfft!" Yozak waved off Yuuri's concern over his physical welfare. "You don't know much about Wolfram, do you? He wants you to be more dominant! Haven't you seen the way his eyes sparkle when you yell back at him?"

"Why does everyone think that's sparkle?!" Yuuri howled. "That's not sparkle, it's homicidal fury!"

"Eh, I heard about that library thing, he's totally hot for it," Yozak said dismissively, folding his arms. "Say 'cock'."

"How do you know about that?" Yuuri flushed as the rest of Yozak's words sank in. "Wait, what?!"

"Go on, say it." Yozak stared him down expectantly.

"No!" Yuuri tried to edge away, but the couch was too small and he just ended up bumping knees with Yozak.

"Why not? You've got one." Yozak shrugged. "I've got one too. Cock. See, it's no big deal."

"I'm not saying that!" Yuuri snapped.

"You could call it something else if you wanted," Yozak offered, putting an elbow on the back of the couch and leaning his chin on his hand. "Dick, pecker, the red bearbee, the demon sword…"

"I'M NOT SAYING COCK!" Yuuri screamed, fists clenched and cheeks white with frustration.

There was a moment of silence as the word 'cock' echoed off the ceiling a few times.

"There, was that so bad?" Yozak inquired smugly. "You aren't even blushing." Yuuri, panting for breath a little, glared at Yozak.

"If I say 'cock' a few more times, can I go?" he asked.

"No." Yozak's smiled widened. "Say 'nipple'."

******

"There you are!" Wolfram exclaimed when Yuuri finally slunk into their room that night. "I thought I'd have to come pry some shameless floozy off you, you cheater."

"Who the hell would you have to pry off of me?" Yuuri asked, unbuttoning the top collar of his uniform with relief.

"I'm sure I don't know," Wolfram sniffed, turning a page in the book he'd been reading and settling a little against the pillows. "But Doria said some pervert was yelling dirty things on the first floor this afternoon."

"That so?" Yuuri mumbled, bending over to take quite a few more seconds than were necessary to tug his shoes off.

When he straightened back up, he took a long look at Wolfram that made his breath stutter just a little. Wolfram's hair was still damp from his bath, curling against his neck in twists of dark gold. The pink nightgown was resting precariously on one shoulder, moving slightly with the rise and fall of Wolfram's chest, baring a shifting patch of smooth skin. The nightgown clung to Wolfram's body, down to where one of his legs was bent a little to rest the book against, making it ride up not quite high enough for Yuuri to get a look at anything good.

Look, Yozak had said, you think Wolfram's a knockout, right? Just looking at him makes you want him, much less touching him? Just tell him that. All dirty talk is, is telling somebody how much you want them. In graphic and explicit detail. And say 'cock' a lot.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri swallowed, coming around the side of the bed to stand next to Wolfram.

"Hm?" Wolfram turned another page. Yuuri took a deep breath and took the book out of Wolfram's hands.

"I want you."

"What?" Wolfram looked up, frowning. "What are you talking about? Give me back my book."

"No." Yuuri fought rising panic as Wolfram glared harder and put the book behind his back. The damn thing was heavy. "I want you. Right now."

"Yuuri, you're being weird!" Wolfram snapped, but Yuuri noticed the red creeping over Wolfram's cheeks and the way Wolfram's fingers were twisting in the blankets with new comprehension. "Stop it right now and give me my book back!"

"No." Yuuri let the book hit the ground with a satisfying wham, smirking at the way Wolfram's jaw dropped a little. "You look really good, Wolfram."

"What are you saying embarrassing things for?" Wolfram's cheeks were burning underneath Yuuri's palms as he pressed his hands to Wolfram's face to hold him still and kissed him.

This was the most dangerous part, Yuuri thought as he cautiously climbed onto the bed without breaking the kiss and threw a knee over Wolfram's lap, because Wolfram was right on the edge of the bed and could easily toss Yuuri off with some serious force. But Wolfram barely moved, other than his breath hitching in his chest, and Yuuri let one hand slip down to nudge the nightgown a little more out of the way so he could rest fingers against Wolfram's bare shoulder.

"Yuuri?" Wolfram demanded shakily when Yuuri began trailing lips over his cheekbone. "What are you doing?"

"Your skin's so warm and soft," Yuuri murmured into Wolfram's ear as he thumbed Wolfram's collarbone, and there was no mistaking the tremble that rippled up Wolfram's spine. He nipped Wolfram's earlobe lightly. "I want to taste it."

"Yuuri!" Wolfram shoved Yuuri off, but Yuuri caught at Wolfram's waist so that he rolled as well, and they came to rest with Yuuri flat on his back and a seething Wolfram looming over him. "What the HELL has gotten into you?"

"Eh…" Yuuri laughed a little, cheeks darkening. "Well, you know, earlier when you thought I was talking about…you seemed to…to like it. So I thought you might like it if I…you know, talked a little."

"Well I don't like it!" Wolfram shouted, his own blush spreading down under the top of his nightgown. "That’s…that's coarse! Proper people don't talk about that stuff! Do you think I'm some kind of whore that you can talk to me like that?!"

"Wolfram!" Yuuri exclaimed, hands tightening on Wolfram's waist. "Of course not! I…" The promise to never do that sort of thing ever again was hovering on Yuuri's tongue when Wolfram shifted against him, and something very hard pressed up against his thigh. "Wolfram…"

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Wolfram demanded, but his voice sounded strained. Yuuri arched just the tiniest bit against Wolfram and saw Wolfram's pupils dilate, Wolfram's erection rocking harder against his thigh.

"You liar." Yuuri chuckled a little, yanking Wolfram down to shut him up with a kiss before he could shout anything else. He let Wolfram move back just far enough to say, "You do like it."

"I don't!" Wolfram struggled, but Yuuri's grip was too tight. "Let go of me!"

"Wolfram…" Wolfram kept trying to shake off Yuuri, and finally Yuuri rolled them back over so that his weight was pinning Wolfram from the waist down. Seizing Wolfram's wrists, he pushed them down on either side of his head. Wolfram managed to get one knee up, just barely missing something of vital importance to the proceedings. "Stop it!" Yuuri ordered.

Wolfram stopped. He stared up at Yuuri with wide green eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"There isn't anybody else here," Yuuri said. "So what's it matter if I tell you that I want you?"

"Yuuri?" Wolfram ran his tongue over his bottom lip and looked away. "It's embarrassing, you idiot!"

"You think I'm not embarrassed to say that stuff?" Yuuri let go of one wrist to turn Wolfram's chin until he was forced to look at Yuuri. "But that's stupid, isn't it? You know I want you, why shouldn't I tell you?"

"Proper boys aren't supposed to like that," Wolfram mumbled, and he scowled when Yuuri laughed.

"Where I come from, proper boys aren't supposed to like boys," Yuuri said, kissing the corner of Wolfram's mouth. "But when it's just us…if it's you, Wolf, I think that's okay."

"Go back to the other sort of embarrassing stuff," Wolfram squirmed under Yuuri a little, "I liked that more."

"Oh, did you?" Yuuri nuzzled the underside of Wolfram's jaw and let one hand drop to push the bottom of Wolfram's nightgown up a little higher against his thigh. "Why don't you tell me how much you liked it?"

"I…" Wolfram clutched at Yuuri's shoulders and arched against him as Yuuri pushed the nightgown out of the way entirely and slid one knee in between Wolfram's legs. "I…Yuuri, I can't…"

"Try saying 'cock' first," Yuuri laughed against Wolfram's throat, blushing a little himself as Wolfram rocked against his thigh. "Like 'I really want to touch your cock' or 'your cock is so hard' or something like that."

"Yuuri, you jerk!" Wolfram moaned, shoving palms against Yuuri's shoulders. "I'm not saying any…any of that stuff! Take off your stupid shirt so I can touch you!"

"That's a start, I suppose." Yuuri bit Wolfram's throat lightly before sitting up to fight with the buttons of his uniform. He thought Wolfram would sit up and help him, snapping off a few buttons with his usual impatience, but Wolfram stayed right where he was, hands laying next to his head, breath quick, watching Yuuri with a gaze that made goosebumps prickle over his arms. Wolfram's nightgown had been pushed into a tangle halfway up his chest.

"What?" Wolfram asked when Yuuri didn't press back against him immediately after tossing his uniform jacket aside, but instead continued looking down at Wolfram for a few seconds. Yuuri didn't answer, but reached down to untangle the nightgown and pull it over Wolfram's head, tossing it in the same direction as his uniform. "Yuuri, say something."

Yuuri opened his mouth, but then after a second of silence shook his head.

"Oi," Wolfram pushed himself up on his elbows, "what happened to you telling me what you wanted?" Wolfram gave a surprised little gasp when Yuuri fell on top of him suddenly, palm hot against his chest and teeth sharp against his ear.

"It's just," Yuuri said, voice rough, "you're so…I mean, geez Wolf, you're gorgeous. I can't decide what I want."

"Cock!" Wolfram blurted, going bright red when Yuuri froze. Wolfram buried his burning face against Yuuri's shoulder and pushed against him. "Yuuri, please…"

"Yes," Yuuri laughed, wrapping one arm around Wolfram's waist and dropping the other to push Wolfram's Mazoku thong enough out of the way to wrap his hand firmly around Wolfram's length. "You should tell me," Yuuri breathed into Wolfram's ear, "if you want it, you know, slower…or faster…or tighter…"

"Yuuri!" Wolfram wailed, digging his fingers into Yuuri's shoulders so tightly they were sure to leave marks, but Yuuri couldn't say that he exactly cared as he continued murmuring suggestions into Wolfram's hair until Wolfram came hard and sweet over Yuuri's fingers.

"Hmm?" Yuuri asked, sucking one of his fingers clean, when Wolfram muttered something unintelligible against his neck.

"I said," Wolfram let go of Yuuri and flopped back against the bed, "I hope you don't want me to say that stuff to you. Cause I'm not that sort of guy."

"What I want you to do will keep your mouth busy anyway," Yuuri replied, letting the finger slip out of his mouth and grinning at the renewed blush across Wolfram's features.

********

"Well that," Yuuri loomed over Murata at the breakfast table the next morning, "failed utterly."

"Oh?" Murata eyed the mark on Yuuri's throat and went on buttering his toast. "It doesn't look that way to me, Shibuya."

"Don't you know what you've done?" Yuuri demanded, flopping down into the chair next to Murata and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "Now he wants to hear how great he is all the time! He woke me up at three in the morning to make me repeat a bunch of junk I said about the luster of his skin!"

"I heard," Murata said blandly, but before Yuuri could ask what that was supposed to mean, Doria and Sangria bustled up to the table and bowed to Murata.

"About the situation with the pervert who's loose in the castle, Great Sage!" Doria said, clasping her hands.

"We haven't caught him yet, Your Highness!" Sangria said. "But we think he may be trying to infiltrated the Maou's bedroom!"

"Oh?" Murata inquired while Yuuri's mouth worked wordlessly.

"He was heard near there in the dead of night last night!" Doria reported. She pulled a pad of paper out of a pocket. "Shouting even more obscene things than before, such as 'I want to throw your knees over my shoulder and—' "

"Ah, I understand," Murata interrupted hastily, eyeing Yuuri's expression.

"Don't worry, Your Highness," Sangria said, "we've got the situation well in hand! We'll be searching the entire castle today to locate the pervert!"

Both of them bowed again and scuttled off. Murata went back to his toast without comment.

"I hate you," Yuuri hissed at Murata, hand clenched around his juice glass. "Oh god, how I hate you."

"Whispering sweet nothings to anyone near you, aren't you?" Wolfram demanded sharply from behind Yuuri, making him slosh juice all over his shirt. "You cheater!"
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