KKM Fic
I don't know that I'll ever write anything else for Kyou Kara Maou, but this story wrote itself and wouldn't let me alone until I put it onto paper. I've only seen up through episode 18, so I'm hoping that there isn't anything later that makes this impossible, but for now it works. It's set before the beginning of the show, so no Yuuri yet.
I know there are some on my f-list that watch KKM, so hopefully someone out there will find it to their liking. Not beta'd, sorry. Oddly enough, something I'm quite happy with. Must be my mood.
Series: Kyou Kara Maou
Warnings: NC-17, and fairly angsty
Pairings: Gwendel/Günter
Gwendel stared down at the paperwork in front of him with a sigh. He normally did not mind doing it, but tonight for some reason he just could not concentrate. The stacks of papers that needed signed seemed endless, requisitions for weapons, bills for food, for clothing, for all the things an army needed to function. This was normally the Maou’s job, but as they did not have a Maou at present, it fell to the head of the army. Namely, himself.
Gwendel sighed again, rubbing his forehead with one hand. It had been like this every night for the past week. Getting up, he realized it had grown quite dark in the room while he had been working. The final rays of sunset peeked through the window behind him, and he stared out at the muted oranges and reds painting the sky. It was beautiful, something he rarely took the time to see. It was not that he did not enjoy his position and all that in entailed, but there were times when it became difficult even for him. His brothers would not have stood a chance. Konrad, while a perfect soldier, could not hold his position due to his half-human blood. And Wolfram? The little brat was much too concerned with himself to care about what was going on around him. Sure, he would be very powerful someday with all his training, but Gwendel only hoped he’d learn some humility along with it.
The pile of work was not growing any shorter as he dallied at the window, so he took his seat again. His eyes had become accustomed to the dim light as he had worked, but now that he had taken a short break, he found that the room was too dark to be able to read comfortably. He was reaching towards the light when the door opened and a figure slid in, moving quietly and gracefully. His fingers were stilled on the switch as he recognized the intruder.
“Günter.”
The young mazoku breezed into the room, ever present cloak fluttering behind him. H paused in the center of the room hands on his hips. “A bit dark in here, isn’t it?”
Gwendel smiled wryly and flipped the switch to his desk lamp. A soft circle of brightness appeared, casting the rest of the room into sudden shadow. Surrounded by light, Gwendel could barely make out Günter’s dim form, and it unnerved him. “Won’t you sit down?” He should have been annoyed at the intrusion, but was thankful for the excuse it gave him to avoid his work.
Günter sat, but almost immediately hopped up again, pacing back and forth. Gwendel sighed for the third time that night. He was not sure if he could deal with the other mazoku’s nervousness right now. And he had a good guess as to the reason. “What’s the matter?”
“The matter? Oh, nothing, nothing at all.” It was a bold faced lie, made obvious by the tense way he held his body, the nervous flutter of his hands at his sides.
“Is this about the new Maou?”
Günter whirled around and pressed against the edge of the desk, leaning over it towards Gwendel. “He’ll be here soon. We just got word from the Oracle. Within the week, she said.”
Gwendel leaned back in his seat. “And?”
Günter did not seem to have heard him. “A new Maou. What’s he going to be like? Konrad is the only one that has seen him, and that was years ago. What if he doesn’t like us? What if he doesn’t want to be the Maou?”
Gwendel was not really surprised at the mazoku’s train of thought. He had considered the matter himself recently, but dismissed the thoughts as unproductive. But he knew what Günter was really saying. “What if he doesn’t like you, you mean.”
Günter wrung his hands together. “Yes, yes, that’s it exactly,” he murmured. It was telling of how upset he was that he even admitted it.
Gwendel relaxed with his hands in his lap. Comforting Günter seemed to be in his job description, though he had to wonder how it had gotten there. He was never quite sure why the mazoku seemed to seek him out when he was in need. “Why wouldn’t he like you?”
Günter began pacing again. “Why not? There’s lots of things about me not to like. What if he thinks I’m noisy? What if he doesn’t like the sound of my voice? What if…,” he gasped, “what if he thinks I’m ugly?”
Gwendel was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Of all the things to worry about with a new Maou coming into power - especially considering the mess his mother had made of the position - trust Günter to come up with some of the least important things. “Günter. Günter!” He had to repeat himself before the mazoku turned towards him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re not noisy, you have a pleasant enough voice, and if he has eyes in his head he’s going to know you aren’t ugly.” Ugly was about as far from Günter as one could get. There was definitely something pleasing about his fine features and long beautiful hair. Not that Günter normally needed his ego stroked about his looks.
Günter stood stock still in the middle of the room, frozen in the dim light, his eyes closed. Gwendel saw him take a deep breath, then smile softly. “You’re right. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
He was, but Gwendel was not going to tell him that. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Günter’s eyes opened slowly, dark pools in the shadows of his face, and nodded slightly. “You are right, as usual. How is it that you always know just what to say?” He murmured the last, almost to himself, and the contrast between this calm, controlled mazoku and the one that had entered his room was enough to give Gwendel goose bumps. Times like this it almost seemed as if there were two people living in Günter’s body, which was an unnerving thought.
Not wanting to display how unsettling Günter was when he was like this, Gwendel leaned back over his desk full of papers, selecting one and beginning to read. “I need to get back to work.”
“Of course,” he heard Günter say, then he focused on the words in front of him.
He heard the door click, but it was an abstract sound coming from a long distance away. He was too involved with trying to figure out why the numbers swimming in front of his eyes seemed higher than normal to pay much attention to what else was going on. Which was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his arm.
Gwendel jerked his head up to stare into Günter’s face. He was turned away from the light, and his hair hung down around him, making his features nearly invisible. It was so strange that for a moment Gwendel wondered if he had fallen asleep. But the fingers clenched in his sleeve were all too real, and very warm.
Gwendel swallowed in a suddenly tight throat. Günter acted the part of a fool well and often, but one underestimated him at one’s own risk. Under the guise of an assistant to the Maou was the heart and mind of a soldier. He had seen how deadly Günter could be, but that was not what prickled his skin and dried his mouth. No, that was something far different, but no less dangerous.
“Günter, I-”
He was cut off by a finger laid across his lips. Words floated to him out of the darkness. “No words, Gwendel. You’ve helped me so often, yet you rarely ever let me help you. Let me, now.”
The hand on his arm was already busy with the button on his pants. Gwendel shut his eyes as Günter turned the chair to kneel in front of him. This was not the first time this had happened, though every time he wondered if it would be the last. He was already hard with anticipation when Günter reached in and drew him out, bringing the head to his lips and breathing lightly on it. Gwendel shivered as warm breath rushed over sensitive skin.
There was no love between them except that of comrades and friends, and it was not about lust either, though Gwendel could admit that the beautiful Mazoku appealed to him. It was more about comfort, of the kind one could only get by skin on skin, by the release given through gentle touches and soft mouths. Günter took him in inch by inch, stopping only when he had taken all there was to give. Gwendel felt as though he were floating, anchored only by the heat curling through him and the pleasure of Günter’s actions. He never asked for this, but rarely refused it, knowing that it was often more about Günter’s needs than his own. But he could not turn away from the pleasure it brought him.
Günter was good at this, as he was at most everything he put his mind to doing. It was a skill enhanced by experience and talent, knowing exactly what would bring forth the small sighs that Gwendel had no hope of quelling. The building of pleasure was slow and gradual, bring him to small peaks of ecstasy that left him breathless. He knew what was coming next and did not resist when Günter rose before him, framed in the light of the small lamp. It was only then that he realized Günter was wearing nothing under his robes. Had the Mazoku planned for this all along? He must have, as he drew out a small bottle from some hidden pocket.
Gwendel took the bottle from him and poured some of the slippery contents into his palm, slicking himself thoroughly. Günter only waited long enough for him to close the container and set it on the desk before climbing into his lap and raising himself into position. Their joining was slow and painless, the tide of heat barely covering the feeling of welcome familiarity. Günter stayed motionless for only a moment, then rose and settled, gasping quietly against the rush of gratification.
They moved against each other, the silence punctuated by small cries from them both. Gwendel settled on hand on the sharp bones of a hip, the other he used to bring Günter even swifter to his peak. It did not take them long, despite the unhurried pace, and when it came, Günter rested his head on Gwendel’s shoulder and let himself go, bringing Gwendel with him.
Gwendel relaxed back into his seat, enjoying the first real relaxation he had experience in a long while. It seemed all too soon when Günter stirred, preparing to rise. It was something that broke his own codes, but he could not help himself from reaching to cup the beautiful face in his palm, bringing their lips together in one final act.
Günter drew back and gave him a soft smile, then rose, his robes falling back into place to hide the evidence of their tryst. He was silent as he walked away, but Gwendel heard his footsteps pause. “Thank you,” whispered through the darkness.
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Gwendel with his thoughts. He turned his chair to the window and stared out into the night, wondering why, with the warmth of the other Mazoku still on his skin, he had never felt so alone.
I know there are some on my f-list that watch KKM, so hopefully someone out there will find it to their liking. Not beta'd, sorry. Oddly enough, something I'm quite happy with. Must be my mood.
Series: Kyou Kara Maou
Warnings: NC-17, and fairly angsty
Pairings: Gwendel/Günter
Gwendel stared down at the paperwork in front of him with a sigh. He normally did not mind doing it, but tonight for some reason he just could not concentrate. The stacks of papers that needed signed seemed endless, requisitions for weapons, bills for food, for clothing, for all the things an army needed to function. This was normally the Maou’s job, but as they did not have a Maou at present, it fell to the head of the army. Namely, himself.
Gwendel sighed again, rubbing his forehead with one hand. It had been like this every night for the past week. Getting up, he realized it had grown quite dark in the room while he had been working. The final rays of sunset peeked through the window behind him, and he stared out at the muted oranges and reds painting the sky. It was beautiful, something he rarely took the time to see. It was not that he did not enjoy his position and all that in entailed, but there were times when it became difficult even for him. His brothers would not have stood a chance. Konrad, while a perfect soldier, could not hold his position due to his half-human blood. And Wolfram? The little brat was much too concerned with himself to care about what was going on around him. Sure, he would be very powerful someday with all his training, but Gwendel only hoped he’d learn some humility along with it.
The pile of work was not growing any shorter as he dallied at the window, so he took his seat again. His eyes had become accustomed to the dim light as he had worked, but now that he had taken a short break, he found that the room was too dark to be able to read comfortably. He was reaching towards the light when the door opened and a figure slid in, moving quietly and gracefully. His fingers were stilled on the switch as he recognized the intruder.
“Günter.”
The young mazoku breezed into the room, ever present cloak fluttering behind him. H paused in the center of the room hands on his hips. “A bit dark in here, isn’t it?”
Gwendel smiled wryly and flipped the switch to his desk lamp. A soft circle of brightness appeared, casting the rest of the room into sudden shadow. Surrounded by light, Gwendel could barely make out Günter’s dim form, and it unnerved him. “Won’t you sit down?” He should have been annoyed at the intrusion, but was thankful for the excuse it gave him to avoid his work.
Günter sat, but almost immediately hopped up again, pacing back and forth. Gwendel sighed for the third time that night. He was not sure if he could deal with the other mazoku’s nervousness right now. And he had a good guess as to the reason. “What’s the matter?”
“The matter? Oh, nothing, nothing at all.” It was a bold faced lie, made obvious by the tense way he held his body, the nervous flutter of his hands at his sides.
“Is this about the new Maou?”
Günter whirled around and pressed against the edge of the desk, leaning over it towards Gwendel. “He’ll be here soon. We just got word from the Oracle. Within the week, she said.”
Gwendel leaned back in his seat. “And?”
Günter did not seem to have heard him. “A new Maou. What’s he going to be like? Konrad is the only one that has seen him, and that was years ago. What if he doesn’t like us? What if he doesn’t want to be the Maou?”
Gwendel was not really surprised at the mazoku’s train of thought. He had considered the matter himself recently, but dismissed the thoughts as unproductive. But he knew what Günter was really saying. “What if he doesn’t like you, you mean.”
Günter wrung his hands together. “Yes, yes, that’s it exactly,” he murmured. It was telling of how upset he was that he even admitted it.
Gwendel relaxed with his hands in his lap. Comforting Günter seemed to be in his job description, though he had to wonder how it had gotten there. He was never quite sure why the mazoku seemed to seek him out when he was in need. “Why wouldn’t he like you?”
Günter began pacing again. “Why not? There’s lots of things about me not to like. What if he thinks I’m noisy? What if he doesn’t like the sound of my voice? What if…,” he gasped, “what if he thinks I’m ugly?”
Gwendel was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Of all the things to worry about with a new Maou coming into power - especially considering the mess his mother had made of the position - trust Günter to come up with some of the least important things. “Günter. Günter!” He had to repeat himself before the mazoku turned towards him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re not noisy, you have a pleasant enough voice, and if he has eyes in his head he’s going to know you aren’t ugly.” Ugly was about as far from Günter as one could get. There was definitely something pleasing about his fine features and long beautiful hair. Not that Günter normally needed his ego stroked about his looks.
Günter stood stock still in the middle of the room, frozen in the dim light, his eyes closed. Gwendel saw him take a deep breath, then smile softly. “You’re right. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
He was, but Gwendel was not going to tell him that. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Günter’s eyes opened slowly, dark pools in the shadows of his face, and nodded slightly. “You are right, as usual. How is it that you always know just what to say?” He murmured the last, almost to himself, and the contrast between this calm, controlled mazoku and the one that had entered his room was enough to give Gwendel goose bumps. Times like this it almost seemed as if there were two people living in Günter’s body, which was an unnerving thought.
Not wanting to display how unsettling Günter was when he was like this, Gwendel leaned back over his desk full of papers, selecting one and beginning to read. “I need to get back to work.”
“Of course,” he heard Günter say, then he focused on the words in front of him.
He heard the door click, but it was an abstract sound coming from a long distance away. He was too involved with trying to figure out why the numbers swimming in front of his eyes seemed higher than normal to pay much attention to what else was going on. Which was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his arm.
Gwendel jerked his head up to stare into Günter’s face. He was turned away from the light, and his hair hung down around him, making his features nearly invisible. It was so strange that for a moment Gwendel wondered if he had fallen asleep. But the fingers clenched in his sleeve were all too real, and very warm.
Gwendel swallowed in a suddenly tight throat. Günter acted the part of a fool well and often, but one underestimated him at one’s own risk. Under the guise of an assistant to the Maou was the heart and mind of a soldier. He had seen how deadly Günter could be, but that was not what prickled his skin and dried his mouth. No, that was something far different, but no less dangerous.
“Günter, I-”
He was cut off by a finger laid across his lips. Words floated to him out of the darkness. “No words, Gwendel. You’ve helped me so often, yet you rarely ever let me help you. Let me, now.”
The hand on his arm was already busy with the button on his pants. Gwendel shut his eyes as Günter turned the chair to kneel in front of him. This was not the first time this had happened, though every time he wondered if it would be the last. He was already hard with anticipation when Günter reached in and drew him out, bringing the head to his lips and breathing lightly on it. Gwendel shivered as warm breath rushed over sensitive skin.
There was no love between them except that of comrades and friends, and it was not about lust either, though Gwendel could admit that the beautiful Mazoku appealed to him. It was more about comfort, of the kind one could only get by skin on skin, by the release given through gentle touches and soft mouths. Günter took him in inch by inch, stopping only when he had taken all there was to give. Gwendel felt as though he were floating, anchored only by the heat curling through him and the pleasure of Günter’s actions. He never asked for this, but rarely refused it, knowing that it was often more about Günter’s needs than his own. But he could not turn away from the pleasure it brought him.
Günter was good at this, as he was at most everything he put his mind to doing. It was a skill enhanced by experience and talent, knowing exactly what would bring forth the small sighs that Gwendel had no hope of quelling. The building of pleasure was slow and gradual, bring him to small peaks of ecstasy that left him breathless. He knew what was coming next and did not resist when Günter rose before him, framed in the light of the small lamp. It was only then that he realized Günter was wearing nothing under his robes. Had the Mazoku planned for this all along? He must have, as he drew out a small bottle from some hidden pocket.
Gwendel took the bottle from him and poured some of the slippery contents into his palm, slicking himself thoroughly. Günter only waited long enough for him to close the container and set it on the desk before climbing into his lap and raising himself into position. Their joining was slow and painless, the tide of heat barely covering the feeling of welcome familiarity. Günter stayed motionless for only a moment, then rose and settled, gasping quietly against the rush of gratification.
They moved against each other, the silence punctuated by small cries from them both. Gwendel settled on hand on the sharp bones of a hip, the other he used to bring Günter even swifter to his peak. It did not take them long, despite the unhurried pace, and when it came, Günter rested his head on Gwendel’s shoulder and let himself go, bringing Gwendel with him.
Gwendel relaxed back into his seat, enjoying the first real relaxation he had experience in a long while. It seemed all too soon when Günter stirred, preparing to rise. It was something that broke his own codes, but he could not help himself from reaching to cup the beautiful face in his palm, bringing their lips together in one final act.
Günter drew back and gave him a soft smile, then rose, his robes falling back into place to hide the evidence of their tryst. He was silent as he walked away, but Gwendel heard his footsteps pause. “Thank you,” whispered through the darkness.
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Gwendel with his thoughts. He turned his chair to the window and stared out into the night, wondering why, with the warmth of the other Mazoku still on his skin, he had never felt so alone.