Kyo Kara Maoh, "Beautiful," Josak/Conrad, hard R
First story I wrote today at work, and I rather like it. You can blame-or credit-wicked_pistil for the bunny ... she's my KKM girl, makes me love this series even more than I did already.
I'll call this a companion piece to " In Memory Of," which you really ought to read first. It'll explain a bit better something in the middle of this story.
Enjoy! ♥
Beautiful
by Mistr3ss Quickly
Conrad Weller has never had any interest-romantically or sexually-in women. Never. He's never wanted to kiss or touch a woman. Never wondered what a woman might look like without her clothes on.
He's loved women, certainly. He adores his mother, loves to greet her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek when he returns from a long journey or a wearying battle. He rather likes Annissina, enjoys watching her torture his older brother and Günter with all the enthusiasm and insanity she had as a child. And of course, his feelings for Susanna Julia-where widely misconstrued to be something other than what they truly were, and are-undeniably ran very deep, and to this day, weigh heavily upon Conrad's soul.
For women, Conrad feels deep affection, high respect. Not at all the kind of love he glimpsed between his mother and father when he was young and had sneaked away from Gwendal's care. Not at all the kind of love he later witnessed between his mother and Wolfram's father, old enough to know what he was seeing, young and immature enough to be angered by it.
The love Conrad feels toward women is beautiful. Soft and deep and warm, like his mother's embrace, like Susanna Julia's laugh. Pure and fragile and beautiful, like the flowers his mother grows in her garden, named for each of her sons.
~*~*~*~
The love Conrad feels towards men differs greatly from the sort of love he feels for women, so much so that Conrad refuses to even consider it "love."
The love he feels for men is hot and filthy, hard and rough. The love he feels for men tastes of sweat and earth and blood, of desperation and fear and adrenaline, the heat of battle clinging to strong muscle and scarred skin, even in the quiet darkness of his tent.
For men, Conrad feels burning, maddening lust, a ferocious possessiveness that earns him both a reputation on the battlefield and a warm body in his bedroll, Josak's teeth pressing hard at his throat, Josak's hand tugging insistently at his cock. Conrad feels desire and curiosity, watching as the soldiers around him undress to bathe in the short breaths they take between battles. He feels jealously and desire when the soldiers reciprocate, glancing just a bit too long at Josak's strong body as the man shamelessly reveals it, at Conrad's own battle-marked skin, pale from days spent wrapped in leather and steel, hidden from the warmth of the sun.
Conrad loves his men and fights for them, defends them and mourns them, returning home to the solace of his mother's embrace with the agony of their deaths weighing heavily upon him.
~*~*~*~
The first time Conrad sees his second-in-command dressed in women's clothing, he's inebriated and fascinated, confused and aroused and thrilled. He touches Josak's powder-soft cheek with his sword-calloused palm and kisses Josak's lips, tasting lipstick for the first time, bitter and waxy.
Josak leans into his touch and sighs, just as Julia did, years before, when Conrad would go to her and comfort her, keeping her company in Adalbert's absence.
Josak bites him on the ear and growls Captain, just as he's done for the past years he's served and loved under Conrad, nude and sweaty and delicious in Conrad's tent.
Conrad whimpers and melts in Josak's arms, kisses the man until he's got more lipstick on his mouth than Josak's got on his own. Then Josak pushes him backwards and presses him down onto the bed, pins him with seemingly no effort, dipping his head down between Conrad's legs to smear lipstick on other parts of his captain's body.
Conrad admires him and worships him and comes for him, harder than he's ever come before.
~*~*~*~
"You look happy," Cheri says, one afternoon when her son comes to see her at teatime, his smile reaching his eyes, not simply curving his lips as it usually does. "Has something good happened?"
Conrad hums softly and shakes his head, taking the cup his mother offers him and sipping his tea, serene as Cheri studies him.
"You're certain?" says Cheri. "Because if I'm not mistaken, Conrad, you have the distinct air of a man who's fallen in love."
Conrad sets his cup down, laughing. His mother is beautiful in the afternoon sunlight, her hair glowing around her like an angel's halo, her eyes glinting like a mischievous sprite's.
"Do I, now?" he says. "Well. I wonder."
Cheri squeals delightedly and takes Conrad's hand in both of her own, clasping it against her breast. "Oh Conrad," she gushes, "I knew it, I just knew it! Oh I'm so happy, my baby's finally fallen in love. Tell me, tell me! What's she like? Is it someone I know? How long have you known her? Is she beautiful? Will you marry her?"
Conrad chuckles and draws his mother's hands to his lips, kissing the back of each. He thinks of Josak, the man's unruly red hair and piercing blue eyes, Josak's wickedly crude sense of humor and devastatingly deep sense of loyalty. He thinks of Josak's strength, Josak's kindness, Josak's irreplaceable presence in his life.
He thinks of how Josak might look, dressed in a wedding gown, and blushes, releasing his mother's hands and crossing his legs, concealing his body's reaction to his thoughts. Thoughts of Josak pushing him down, pinning him and kissing him and taking him, consummating their relationship amidst the hush of silk, the rustle of satin, strong and beautiful and like nothing else Conrad has ever encountered, in this world or the other.
"It's Josak," he tells his mother, reaching for his cup of tea. "Josak Gourrier."
The most beautiful man I've ever loved.
I'll call this a companion piece to " In Memory Of," which you really ought to read first. It'll explain a bit better something in the middle of this story.
Enjoy! ♥
Beautiful
by Mistr3ss Quickly
Conrad Weller has never had any interest-romantically or sexually-in women. Never. He's never wanted to kiss or touch a woman. Never wondered what a woman might look like without her clothes on.
He's loved women, certainly. He adores his mother, loves to greet her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek when he returns from a long journey or a wearying battle. He rather likes Annissina, enjoys watching her torture his older brother and Günter with all the enthusiasm and insanity she had as a child. And of course, his feelings for Susanna Julia-where widely misconstrued to be something other than what they truly were, and are-undeniably ran very deep, and to this day, weigh heavily upon Conrad's soul.
For women, Conrad feels deep affection, high respect. Not at all the kind of love he glimpsed between his mother and father when he was young and had sneaked away from Gwendal's care. Not at all the kind of love he later witnessed between his mother and Wolfram's father, old enough to know what he was seeing, young and immature enough to be angered by it.
The love Conrad feels toward women is beautiful. Soft and deep and warm, like his mother's embrace, like Susanna Julia's laugh. Pure and fragile and beautiful, like the flowers his mother grows in her garden, named for each of her sons.
~*~*~*~
The love Conrad feels towards men differs greatly from the sort of love he feels for women, so much so that Conrad refuses to even consider it "love."
The love he feels for men is hot and filthy, hard and rough. The love he feels for men tastes of sweat and earth and blood, of desperation and fear and adrenaline, the heat of battle clinging to strong muscle and scarred skin, even in the quiet darkness of his tent.
For men, Conrad feels burning, maddening lust, a ferocious possessiveness that earns him both a reputation on the battlefield and a warm body in his bedroll, Josak's teeth pressing hard at his throat, Josak's hand tugging insistently at his cock. Conrad feels desire and curiosity, watching as the soldiers around him undress to bathe in the short breaths they take between battles. He feels jealously and desire when the soldiers reciprocate, glancing just a bit too long at Josak's strong body as the man shamelessly reveals it, at Conrad's own battle-marked skin, pale from days spent wrapped in leather and steel, hidden from the warmth of the sun.
Conrad loves his men and fights for them, defends them and mourns them, returning home to the solace of his mother's embrace with the agony of their deaths weighing heavily upon him.
~*~*~*~
The first time Conrad sees his second-in-command dressed in women's clothing, he's inebriated and fascinated, confused and aroused and thrilled. He touches Josak's powder-soft cheek with his sword-calloused palm and kisses Josak's lips, tasting lipstick for the first time, bitter and waxy.
Josak leans into his touch and sighs, just as Julia did, years before, when Conrad would go to her and comfort her, keeping her company in Adalbert's absence.
Josak bites him on the ear and growls Captain, just as he's done for the past years he's served and loved under Conrad, nude and sweaty and delicious in Conrad's tent.
Conrad whimpers and melts in Josak's arms, kisses the man until he's got more lipstick on his mouth than Josak's got on his own. Then Josak pushes him backwards and presses him down onto the bed, pins him with seemingly no effort, dipping his head down between Conrad's legs to smear lipstick on other parts of his captain's body.
Conrad admires him and worships him and comes for him, harder than he's ever come before.
~*~*~*~
"You look happy," Cheri says, one afternoon when her son comes to see her at teatime, his smile reaching his eyes, not simply curving his lips as it usually does. "Has something good happened?"
Conrad hums softly and shakes his head, taking the cup his mother offers him and sipping his tea, serene as Cheri studies him.
"You're certain?" says Cheri. "Because if I'm not mistaken, Conrad, you have the distinct air of a man who's fallen in love."
Conrad sets his cup down, laughing. His mother is beautiful in the afternoon sunlight, her hair glowing around her like an angel's halo, her eyes glinting like a mischievous sprite's.
"Do I, now?" he says. "Well. I wonder."
Cheri squeals delightedly and takes Conrad's hand in both of her own, clasping it against her breast. "Oh Conrad," she gushes, "I knew it, I just knew it! Oh I'm so happy, my baby's finally fallen in love. Tell me, tell me! What's she like? Is it someone I know? How long have you known her? Is she beautiful? Will you marry her?"
Conrad chuckles and draws his mother's hands to his lips, kissing the back of each. He thinks of Josak, the man's unruly red hair and piercing blue eyes, Josak's wickedly crude sense of humor and devastatingly deep sense of loyalty. He thinks of Josak's strength, Josak's kindness, Josak's irreplaceable presence in his life.
He thinks of how Josak might look, dressed in a wedding gown, and blushes, releasing his mother's hands and crossing his legs, concealing his body's reaction to his thoughts. Thoughts of Josak pushing him down, pinning him and kissing him and taking him, consummating their relationship amidst the hush of silk, the rustle of satin, strong and beautiful and like nothing else Conrad has ever encountered, in this world or the other.
"It's Josak," he tells his mother, reaching for his cup of tea. "Josak Gourrier."
The most beautiful man I've ever loved.