FIC: "A Taste of Sunshine" (Kyou Kara Maou)
Well.
After a very long hiatus, I am posting a new fic. (wow, eh? Will wonders never cease.)
Apologies to those waiting for something more in the DC Comics vein, (that will come!) or in the Gatch vein, (that'll come too!) but here's a short story written for the inestimable
jen_in_japan , as a (quite delayed) birthday present. I've just returned from an acoustic English/Celtic fiddle/guitar performance, and a few of the songs would have made a perfect soundtrack to this little piece, so now in my fatigue and in my ears ringing with music, I'm awash with all sorts of Kyou Kara Maou-goodness. (grin)
For those in my flist who might brave a new fandom and read this, I highly recommend this sweet, funny, adventurous, stirring, and often touching anime.
So, without further ado, my (embarrassingly late) ficlet! And Happy Autumn Equinox, everyone! :-)
FIC: "A Taste of Sunshine"
Author: Paxwolf
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: R for some Violence
Genre: hurt/comfort (and Warning: somewhat slashy/shounen-ai)
Pairing: Yuri/Conrad (aka 'Conyuu')
Spoilers: None really, except a tiny reference to a plot point from episode 27,
Summary: Conrad finds a way out of the darkness, with a little help.
Inspired By a piece of lovely Japanese fanart I'd found a while ago, (the artist of which I don't know, I'm afraid) shared here through the images posted below! (it's a bit hard to see - sorry about that!)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Kyou Kara Maou or its lovely characters. But I'm not precisely sure who does. (Geneon in North America, perhaps? And in Japan??) But it's certainly not me, and no money is being made from this piece of fan work.
A.N.: Written as a birthday gift for my friend
jen_in_japan (er, from June). Jen had written for me a wonderful KKM story entitled "No Regrets" back then. This one's not quite so elegant, and only a smidgeon of what I'd hoped for, and obviously very, very late. (sorry, Jen! Happy Belated!) She'd requested a Conrad/Yuri piece at any stage of their relationship. It's also my very first attempt at writing in this fandom or with these characters! (I, um, hope it's not too hokey.) A rough draft of the first bit of this story was previously posted elsewhere as part of a KKM h/c meme, in order to get me jumpstarted. :-) And it's funny - I had fully intended to write this from Yuri's POV, but the story, it seems - and Conrad - had other ideas.
"A Taste of Sunshine"
By Paxwolf
Conrad Weller had often been faced with moments of great darkness in his life, moments where he had thought he would never step within Light again, moments where the darkness, always lingering on the edges, encroached relentlessly, moments where he was chained by that ravenous, all-consuming, terrible Dark, moments where all he could taste was blood and black despair.
The present moment could certainly be counted amongst those times.
He couldn't muffle the gasp that tore from his throat as he curled forward helplessly, folding in over the hot pain blossoming out from his abdomen.
The man on the other end of the weapon shouted in triumph, a red gleam of malicious hatred alive in his eyes.
"Conrad!" he heard Yuri scream, the young Maou leaping to clutch at him. "No!"
He had no time or breath to answer. The narrow blade was quick, thrusting in and viciously ripping out again just as fast. Conrad rotated his wrist even more swiftly in unconscious response, arcing his own blade around, severing the wooden shaft on the forward slice and neatly dispatching its surprised wielder on the backstroke. But it was too little, too late.
The damage had been done.
"Conrad ..."
Conrad could hear the utter terror in Yuri's voice, could feel the tremble in the fingers that were tightening convulsively on his shoulder.
"It's ... all right, Heika," he managed to grate out, and instantly damned himself for his voice sounding much too weak to be all that convincing. He tried again. "It's just ... it's only a scratch."
But he knew without looking that the newest wound was much more than that. The sleeve of the arm that he'd pressed against the deep puncture was already soaked right through, and rivulets of blood were running thickly over his left hand to drip onto the ground below. He wouldn't be able to hide the extent of the damage from Yuri - or their attackers - for long.
He heard the wicked laughter from the commander in front of them, and his right hand contracted reflexively on his sword hilt in a death grip as he heaved a painful breath and struggled back to his feet. The two men he had just slain lay in front of him, while the third one, the one with the long spear who had managed to get in the lucky hit, had collapsed trying to crawl back to the line. At least, he saw with grim satisfaction, not one of the surviving attackers of the most recent concentrated assault had emerged unscathed. Nor had the half dozen others who'd been in the first surprise ambush.
But now their numbers had tripled, and were surrounding Conrad and Yuri on three sides, with only the cliffside at their backs providing any sort of cover.
"Oh come now, little captain," the mercenary commander's mocking voice rang out across the clearing. "There's no way you can possibly defend your precious Maou now. You're fairly knicked, aren't you?" He gave a nasty grin. "It's pretty clear you can't hold out much longer." The man cocked his head in a semblance of gentility. "In fact, milord, you would be wisest to simply give in and surrender."
Conrad stared at the mocking face and something inside him seemed to snap. "Not in this lifetime," he snarled through his teeth, and he straightened with effort, thrusting Yuri behind him again with his bloody hand. He ignored the agony pulsing in his midriff and raised his blade.
"Conrad ..." Yuri whispered, and Conrad could feel the warmth of him against his back, and he drew from Yuri the strength he would need to continue the battle.
I won't fail you, Yuri. I won't let them take you. No matter what!
The commander chuckled again, as his remaining men began to edge further forward. "Well. As brave and foolhardy as I'd always heard, Lord Weller. Your reputation does do you justice!" He made a show of looking Conrad over appraisingly. "It's almost a pity, really, that you are so painfully loyal to the Mazoku, you know. And this despite everything in your rather embarrassingly public history!" He stroked his lip and then laughed, looking around at his decimated forces. "Obviously, I could use a man of your talents."
Conrad didn't waste his strength responding to that, and simply concentrated on keeping the closest mercenaries in view as he shifted his feet to give himself the best balance possible in his rapidly deteriorating condition. He wasn't going to fail this time. He wasn't!
"You're only prolonging the whelp's suffering, you know," the commander said almost conversationally, a vicious smile now etching his lips. "Not to mention your own." He considered Conrad and his stubborn stance for a moment and then sighed. "Listen then. I promise a clean death for you, and fair treatment for him as long as he remains my captive before handing him over to my ... employer." He flicked a knowing look at Conrad before dropping his gaze pointedly to the ground in front of Conrad's feet, where a small pool of blood was rapidly forming. "Be reasonable, Weller."
"You know what you can do with your 'reason'," Conrad spat, "as your men here can certainly attest." A small grim smile came unbidden to his lips at the flash of darkness that crossed the man's face. Nine of the most skilled fighters were already dead, with several others wounded and out of the fight. But far more were now in place, and his own wound was not ... was not inconsequential. And he was having increasing trouble gaining his breath and fighting back the agony. He gritted his teeth and hefted his sword, facing the slowly encroaching mercenaries. "Your 'hiring practices' ... seem to leave ... a bit to be desired."
The men surrounding them shifted restlessly, although it seemed to take a few moments before the insult filtered through.
"Half-breed bastard!" the nearest mercenary shouted, and lunged at Conrad, double scimitars flashing. "Think you're better than us, do you?"
Conrad barely caught the first blade against his foible, and jerked up his blade, elbow bent above his shoulder to lock the second on the quillon, before leaning back to slide the point of his sword directly through the man's chest as his momentum carried him straight into Conrad's arm. It happened so quickly that Yuri coudn't do more than gasp. The look of shock on the swarthy face opposite him would have almost been comical in other circumstances. Conrad ripped his sword free and raised it again, trying not to notice how it shook slightly. "So, any others who want to end their contract early?"
He would be damned if he was going to lay down his arms in order to spare himself more pain. He was going to take down every last one of these men. He'd do whatever it took to ensure that Yuri escaped, and lived to fulfill his destiny. His own death was of no consequence.
None at all.
"Conrad," he suddenly heard Yuri say quietly in his ear. "You can't do this. I'm not going to let you die for me. I won't. I ... I can't."
Conrad's jaw clenched. He could hear the hoarse terror in Yuri's voice, and felt that warm trembling against him more sharply than his pain. There were so many things he regretted, so many, but none more than ...
"I'm sorry, Yuri," he whispered, his breath hitching slightly, the pain bubbling up from deep within. "I'm so very sorry ..."
"You had your chance, Captain," the commander snapped, all trace of a smile vanished from his dark visage. "You pitiful fool. You will pay a price for cutting into my profits, I promise you." He unsheathed his own massive weapon in a showy flash. "Oh, your suffering will be great indeed." He raised a meaty hand, eyes flat. "Take them!"
And the mercenary army poured towards Conrad and Yuri in a wave of black malice, the promise of death glinting in their blades and eyes.
-----------------
The mercenaries rushed forward and Conrad met the first attacks with deadly force, no longer thinking, just acting and reacting, relying on reflex and training and instinct, nearly all of his conscious awareness focussed solely on Yuri. He had no ground to give; their backs were against the wall. He cut down the first few men who had rushed them in a futile effort to bring them down by sheer weight and numbers, and then there was nothing but the flash of his sword and his body moving in the gory dance that had become the song of his life as he fought them with everything he had.
But the odds were against them from the start, and when yet another mercenary managed to get under his guard while he parried the blades of two others, stabbing a swordpoint deep into his thigh, and another's weapon smashed against his exposed shoulder, he staggered, falling to his knees helplessly, and heard Yuri's scream of denial even as he desperately raised his sword again to knock aside the incoming blows.
"He's done for, boys!" shouted the commander in triumph, and Conrad, seeing nothing but red haze and tasting only the familiar black despair, roared as he surged again to his feet and threw himself bodily at the remaining men in a final desperate attempt to keep them from Yuri.
He scarcely felt the hits he took and struggled with every ounce of his determination and stubbornness and terror and sheer desperation to keep fighting, to keep swinging his sword, to keep himself between their attackers' weapons and Yuri, to keep from losing consciousness as the blood and strength and hope poured out of him until at last he had nothing left to give and he could feel himself falling again, falling, falling so far ...
... falling, falling ... falling such a very long way ... so far away ... so painfully far from Yuri ... and he was fading ... fading ...
No!
He wasn't sure if it was his own voice alone in his head, or one from somewhere outside it, but it thundered in a roaring echoing crescendo ... surely it resounded everywhere throughout the worlds, but his own pain and grief and the horrid knowledge of his utter failure was all he knew until bitter blackness claimed him and he knew no more.
------------------
From a very great distance away, he seemed to hear a voice. It kept calling a name. Not the name he vaguely knew as being a birth name given by parents, but a name dear and somehow familiar to him nonetheless. But he couldn't recall just why it seemed important. Nor who precisely belonged to that name. But it was the voice itself that seemed to lift him up, a voice that made bright light filter in through the black, and it was that voice which drew him inexorably from the darkness, dragging him back to harsh, painful, brilliant light.
But he couldn't follow that voice to discover whose name it was calling, find out who it wanted. He couldn't.
No. He was going somewhere, he was leaving. He had a journey to undertake.
He had somewhere else he had to be.
Yes.
"Conrad ... Conrad ..."
He could not resist that voice.
The voice that wasn't letting him go.
"Conrad ... Conrad ... no ... Conrad ... not Conrad ..." and on and on, the voice called, as if in a chant, and now the voice was clearer, and louder, and the light became brighter, and he could tell the voice was in pain, and hoarse, and wretched. He couldn't let the voice be that, not when it seemed he himself must have something do with it. The voice which somehow he knew, the voice that was ... precious to him, and still he could hear that almost familiar name repeated again and again.
He felt so weak. He was so tired. But the voice would not stop.
"Conrad ...don't go ... Conrad ... not him, please, please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
And he knew he would never let that voice down. He couldn't.
Not ever.
With effort greater than anything he felt he had ever made, calling on every ounce of his will, he forced himself to move, and stirred a little.
It wasn't enough. The voice continued, unabated.
"Please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
He concentrated all of his willpower on lifting his hand, and only managed to twitch his fingers. He couldn't seem to move more than that, no matter how he tried.
And it still wasn't enough. The voice wouldn't stop.
He concentrated on his breathing for a long moment and then, gathering himself, tried to open his eyes.
His first attempt was a spectacular failure. He lay there, listening to the keening voice calling for whoever belonged to that hazy-strange-familiar name, and put more effort into gathering his non-existent strength.
His second try was marginally better, and he slitted open his left eye for the barest fraction of a second before it shut again of its own accord. But in that moment he saw an indistinct blur of darkness blotting out a larger hazy wash of light right above him.
He took another shallow breath.
"Conrad ... Conrad ..." the chant continued, the voice hurting and no, that couldn't be ... "Conrad ... no, no, no ... please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
And with a rush of sensation he abruptly could feel his body again. The numbness vanished and it was with tremendous effort that he pushed back the whimper that threatened to spill out of his lips as the pain poured in and filled every inch of him with white-hot agony.
But it didn't matter. What he mostly he could feel now was the warmth and weight of something across his chest, near where the constant voice emanated, Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ... and he clung to that warmth with all his might.
Who was this Conrad? Why was the voice not letting him go?
He forced his eye open a crack again, and tried to focus with all his might on the dark shape hovering over him.
"Conrad ... please ... Conrad ... don't take him, I need him ... please ... please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
Conrad? It sounded ... the name was ...
He was Conrad, he suddenly realized with a start.
I am Conrad.
He marvelled for a moment. That voice ... it was callling for him, as amazing and wondrous and impossible as that suddenly seemed. And the voice, it belonged to ...
He gasped aloud.
Yuri.
It was Yuri. Yuri was calling him. Yuri was calling his name.
Yuri was calling him back.
---------------
It took an entire day for Conrad to be strong enough to try walking. Even with Yuri having recovered his own strength, both from what he knew Josak privately called 'Maou-ing Out' and thus saving them both, and from using too much of his own precious energies in healing the worst of Conrad's injuries, it took a long time for them to begin the journey home. And even then, their progress was painfully slow, with Conrad forced to lean on Yuri every step of the way. Yuri oddly didn't seem to mind in the least, however, and seemed more than happy to be a crutch for Conrad. And Conrad for his part couldn't help but marvel at how much Yuri had grown without his really noticing in the past half year; Yuri was nearly of a height with him now, and his musculature had begun to fill out. His physical strength seemed more than up to the task of supporting Conrad.
Conrad distracted himself from his ongoing pain by casting his mind back to those first hours after he had finally awakened fully from the battle to find Yuri keening over him, their enemies scattered and dead all around them, a wide swathe of destruction in a large circumference from the place where he lay.
At his tremendous effort upon regaining consciousness, Conrad had finally managed to stir a bit more, and then to whisper Yuri's name.
Conrad dragged his injured leg forward another few steps, feeling Yuri's arm tighten around his waist, and closed his eyes, remembering.
"Yuri ..."
Suddenly the endless repetition of his name ceased and Conrad could hear the breath catch in the throat hovering over his chest. He forced open an eye again to peer blearily up at the vague head-shaped blur above him. He tried to speak again. He was sure it came out as an incomprehensible croak. "Yuri ... are you ...?"
"Conrad!"
And suddenly Yuri was embracing him, and crying, and laughing, and pressing tear-wet cheeks against Conrad's neck, and hands were gripping his arms and shoulders tightly enough to bruise.
"Conrad, Conrad ... I thought I'd lost you ... I was so afraid ... I thought I'd lost you again ..."
Conrad had to swallow twice before he could make any more words come. "No, Yuri ..." he said, damning the weakness in his voice. "You'll never ... lose me." He tried to lift a hand to lay against Yuri's cheek, but his arm dropped, trembling, before he'd managed to raise it halfway. "Didn't I ... promise? I'll never ... leave you all alone ... again."
Yuri sat up slightly and looked down at him with a strange, unfathomable expression on his face, and his black eyes seemed to grow even more dark until Conrad felt he could fall into that gaze as large as a universe, full of stars and light and endless possibilities. Then Yuri let out a strange choked sound that might have been a laugh but sounded more like a sob, or something part way between, before crushing Conrad in his arms again. The hug had more than a desperate feel to it and rather hurt, though Conrad would have given his left arm again before voicing a complaint about it.
"Yuri ..."
But Conrad couldn't say anthing more as the pain flared searing hot and stole his breath for words clean away. Yuri's worried face swam in and out of view as he gasped, fighting to contain the hurt, and not to reveal just how much to Yuri.
"Conrad, I can't ..."
"It's ... all right ... Yuri ..." Conrad managed to get out. "I'm ... alive, thanks ... to you."
And he knew it was true. Yuri had saved his life, in more ways than one.
Yuri had saved him.
Yuri had saved him, as always.
And although the sadness suddenly crashed over him in its usual drowning wave, Conrad smiled slightly as he remembered that moment, the moment that shone so brightly in his mind, and in his heart.
"What was that smile for?"
He jerked back to the present with a start, and looked over at Yuri, who was eyeing him with a slightly bemused, slightly concerned expression. He shook his head.
"Just thinking, Heika." Yuri rolled his eyes at him, putting on a mock frown, but before he could speak, Conrad corrected himself. "Yuri."
Yuri smiled, satisfied, then glanced over at Conrad with a playful tilt to his eyes. "You know I prefer the name that you gave me to my title, Conrad. Or would you really prefer me to call you Lord Weller everywhere we go?"
No, Conrad reflected, he certainly wouldn't want that. Not when there was such power and magic in names, especially in Yuri's use of his.
"Or ..." Yuri suddenly said, uncertainly, "I could call you Conrart, like your brothers do, if you ... if you'd rather ..."
"No!" Conrad blurted out and then caught himself, and shook his head. "No, Yuri, I ... I prefer you to keep calling me as you will. It ..." But here it was Conrad's turn to falter. How could he explain that he loved that Yuri had a special name for him that was his and his alone?
Yuri was smiling. "There you go then. No formalities. Just Yuri and Conrad it is."
Conrad's mouth went suddenly dry at the thought, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, to regain perspective. "All right," he said carefully.
"And so ... that look you had?" Again, Yuri sounded so unsure.
As if Yuri could ever say or do anything to possibly offend him.
Conrad stopped and Yuri did too, and he turned to fully face Yuri who still steadied him with surprisingly strong arms. "I was once again realizing how very lucky I am to have you in my life."
Yuri smiled shyly, a delighted smile beginning to appear like the glimpse of sun edging out from behind clouds. "That's funny, Conrad. I was just thinking the same about you."
This time the delight was entirely on Conrad's part.
Perhaps the sudden onslaught of emotion was more strain than he'd thought on his physical strength, for quite suddenly his knees were buckling and his legs simply folded beneath him and he was helplessly falling again. Falling ... until Yuri caught him. And then Yuri was lowering him gently to the ground as his body seized with pain, each half-healed wound demanding his undivided attention for several precarious seconds.
"Conrad!"
He bit his lip and shook his head fiercely, willing the pain to subside enough for him to speak.
"Conrad," came Yuri's worried voice again. "Conrad ... are you okay? ... I wish ..." His voice faded slightly.
Even with his considerable will applied to the effort, it still took some time for Conrad to muster enough control to talk again, Yuri's hands tightening over his, until the pressure and warmth of that hand pulsed in stronger beats than the pain.
"Conrad ..."
He focussed on Yuri's voice, and his touch, and that brought a steadiness he didn't think it was possible to gain.
He opened his eyes, and forced a tired smile onto his lips. "I'm all right, Yuri."
Yuri stared at him, his own mouth downturned at the corners and a deep sorrow in his dark eyes. "I hate that you got hurt because of me." Yuri swallowed hard. "If I hadn't rushed off alone ..." His eyes squeezed shut. "I hate that you were almost killed because of me."
Conrad sighed. "First of all, that is my job, Heika. I have sworn to protect you. You are my friend, but you are also my charge. And I am your bodyguard, your guardian, your soldier, your knight, yours, Heika ..." yours in every way that matters ... "yours to command." He'd managed to stop himself before he babbled even further inanely onwards, even as he heard Yuri draw a sharp breath. He cleared his mind, and tried to get back on track. "To command in everything but that which would endanger you. If it makes you feel any better, I too acted with a certain lack of good judgement on my part." He winced at the thought of what Gwendal was going to say. "I ought to have brought a contingent of my men with me when I came after you."
"But ..."
"No, Yuri." Conrad gave a wry smile and reached up and touched Yuri gently on the cheek. "Yes, you are the Maou. Yes, that makes you a target. But no, you are not responsible for every bad thing that happens in Shin Makoku. And most importantly, what happened here wasn't because of you. It was not your fault." He met Yuri's gaze levelly. "It was those mercenaries, and especially the man who hired them, who are to blame." He clenched his jaw. "They were going to take you. And I could never allow that to happen. No matter what I have to do, no matter what I have to sacrifice." He closed his eyes at the thought of what had almost happened.
"Conrad ..."
"I would ... I would give everything I have, everything I could ever have, my own life a thousand times over, to save you, Yuri. And I will always be there for you. Always." He didn't dare look up at Yuri as he heard another intake of breath, sounding shaky and trembling. He felt more than a little tremulous himself. "I made a promise to you, Yuri. And I meant it, with all of my heart." His voice dropped away as again, against his will, the vow he'd made on that fateful day spilled out helplessly in a falling, eddying whisper. "I ... will never leave you all alone again."
He swallowed hard and tried to quell the shivering he could feel deep inside, listening to the sounds of Yuri hovering above him. He hadn't said at all what he wanted to, what message he longed to share. He had always been good with the gift of words, but now, for the life of him, he couldn't express what he really wanted to, what he ached from the bottom of his being to really say.
Yet another failure. He was lost in this too. He was hopeless.
But he had to try. Yuri deserved nothing less. He opened his mouth and took a breath to prepare to make the attempt, however hopeless it might be.
But Conrad couldn't say anything more at all as his breath was stolen clean away again, but this time not by pain, but as he suddenly found his mouth covered by Yuri's own, and the startled gasp he gave did nothing to deter Yuri from pressing even harder against him, kissing him with more intensity and passion than Conrad had ever been kissed in his life.
Kissing.
Yuri.
Yuri was kissing him.
For a long second Conrad couldn't grasp what was happening.
Yuri was kissing him. Yuri was kissing him.
Conrad's heart seemed frozen in his chest, his brain had stuttered to a complete halt, and his own astonishment threatened to overwhelm him, and he was suddenly supremely sure that this was all a dream.
Or that he really had died after all and this was some ghost of an afterlife wish, fulfilling his long-denied and buried heart's desire in a way reality could never, ever do.
No.
The thought suddenly hurt beyond what he thought his capacity to hurt could be, and Conrad could feel his heart on the verge of shattering. If he was dead ... then he had broken his promise after all. And Yuri ... Yuri was alone.
Some sound must have escaped his throat then because suddenly the dream-Yuri broke his kiss and lifted himself up to gaze worriedly down at Conrad's face.
Surely the Heavens-sent version of Yuri wouldn't look so completely terrified as he did right then, would he?
"Conrad ... I'm so sorry ...!"
Conrad realised through his shock a need for air, and he gasped again, lungs exploding as they greedily gulped in oxygen, ignoring the searing fire in his side as the motion tore at his healing wound. Surely he wouldn't need to breathe if he were dead ...
"Please, please forgive me! I didn't mean ..."
Yuri's eyes were wide with fear and for a long moment Conrad could only blink up at him.
"I'm so sorry, Conrad, I'm sorry, pretend I didn't do that ..."
Pretend? Pretend that that incredible moment, that moment of shining realization, that moment of the bright, bright burst of hope, had never happened?
Never. Conrad shook his head, a smile beginning to blossom on his mouth beyond his control. Not in this lifetime.
"Yuri." Yuri kept talking over him, apologising profusely. "Yuri," Conrad said again, more firmly.
Yuri didn't seem to hear him, immersed in his terror. "Conrad, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, but ... but you said ... and you just looked so ... so ..."
"Yuri!" Conrad reached up and grasped Yuri's face between both of his hands.
Yuri stopped breathlessly, but looked on the verge of babbling more apologies, tears glimmering at the edges of his eyes. Conrad couldn't bear to see Yuri so afraid, so anguished one instant longer, and he knew no way to extinguish that fear save one, and he took it.
He smiled the gentlest smile he could, hoping that the irrepressible happiness that he knew must be ablaze in his face wouldn't further scare Yuri, and drew Yuri's face down to him until their mouths met once more, and he poured all of his love and hope and joy into the touch, letting Yuri know without cumbersome words just why he had nothing to be afraid of.
For a moment, it was Yuri's turn to freeze in surprise, and then, still awash with amazement, scarcely daring to believe it was real, he felt Yuri melting into him, and returning the kiss with even greater fervour than before.
When at last they broke apart, breathing hard, and staring at each other with a thousand things being spoken in their gazes and pounding hearts and soaring spirits, something had inexorably changed.
And for Conrad, that change was palpable. He could feel the very air charged with sparkles of brightness, of rightness, and everything dark and ugly in his heart and soul and life seemed to vanish, replaced by the sun and beauty of Yuri's heart, brought on by his actions, his giving of himself to Conrad just as surely as Conrad had long ago given his own self to Yuri.
"Conrad ..." Yuri breathed, staring down at him with his gaze filled with whole universes of possibility.
"Yuri ..." Conrad responded, distantly surprised a coherent name even made it to his lips.
Because just then Yuri's smile had burst forth, sunny, brilliant, shining, and utterly the most beautiful thing Conrad had ever seen, and he knew he had truly been saved, in every way that mattered.
The bitter taste of despair had miraculously faded, to be replaced by the bright, sweet, glorious taste of sunshine and hope, and for the first time in a very long life, Conrad Weller broke completely free from the darkness that had shackled him for so long, and led by Yuri, his king, his friend, and at long last his love, finally stepped into Light.
---------------------
(this below is the art that originally inspired me! Lovely, no?)
After a very long hiatus, I am posting a new fic. (wow, eh? Will wonders never cease.)
Apologies to those waiting for something more in the DC Comics vein, (that will come!) or in the Gatch vein, (that'll come too!) but here's a short story written for the inestimable
jen_in_japan , as a (quite delayed) birthday present. I've just returned from an acoustic English/Celtic fiddle/guitar performance, and a few of the songs would have made a perfect soundtrack to this little piece, so now in my fatigue and in my ears ringing with music, I'm awash with all sorts of Kyou Kara Maou-goodness. (grin)
For those in my flist who might brave a new fandom and read this, I highly recommend this sweet, funny, adventurous, stirring, and often touching anime.
So, without further ado, my (embarrassingly late) ficlet! And Happy Autumn Equinox, everyone! :-)
FIC: "A Taste of Sunshine"
Author: Paxwolf
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: R for some Violence
Genre: hurt/comfort (and Warning: somewhat slashy/shounen-ai)
Pairing: Yuri/Conrad (aka 'Conyuu')
Spoilers: None really, except a tiny reference to a plot point from episode 27,
Summary: Conrad finds a way out of the darkness, with a little help.
Inspired By a piece of lovely Japanese fanart I'd found a while ago, (the artist of which I don't know, I'm afraid) shared here through the images posted below! (it's a bit hard to see - sorry about that!)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Kyou Kara Maou or its lovely characters. But I'm not precisely sure who does. (Geneon in North America, perhaps? And in Japan??) But it's certainly not me, and no money is being made from this piece of fan work.
A.N.: Written as a birthday gift for my friend
jen_in_japan (er, from June). Jen had written for me a wonderful KKM story entitled "No Regrets" back then. This one's not quite so elegant, and only a smidgeon of what I'd hoped for, and obviously very, very late. (sorry, Jen! Happy Belated!) She'd requested a Conrad/Yuri piece at any stage of their relationship. It's also my very first attempt at writing in this fandom or with these characters! (I, um, hope it's not too hokey.) A rough draft of the first bit of this story was previously posted elsewhere as part of a KKM h/c meme, in order to get me jumpstarted. :-) And it's funny - I had fully intended to write this from Yuri's POV, but the story, it seems - and Conrad - had other ideas.
"A Taste of Sunshine"
By Paxwolf
Conrad Weller had often been faced with moments of great darkness in his life, moments where he had thought he would never step within Light again, moments where the darkness, always lingering on the edges, encroached relentlessly, moments where he was chained by that ravenous, all-consuming, terrible Dark, moments where all he could taste was blood and black despair.
The present moment could certainly be counted amongst those times.
He couldn't muffle the gasp that tore from his throat as he curled forward helplessly, folding in over the hot pain blossoming out from his abdomen.
The man on the other end of the weapon shouted in triumph, a red gleam of malicious hatred alive in his eyes.
"Conrad!" he heard Yuri scream, the young Maou leaping to clutch at him. "No!"
He had no time or breath to answer. The narrow blade was quick, thrusting in and viciously ripping out again just as fast. Conrad rotated his wrist even more swiftly in unconscious response, arcing his own blade around, severing the wooden shaft on the forward slice and neatly dispatching its surprised wielder on the backstroke. But it was too little, too late.
The damage had been done.
"Conrad ..."
Conrad could hear the utter terror in Yuri's voice, could feel the tremble in the fingers that were tightening convulsively on his shoulder.
"It's ... all right, Heika," he managed to grate out, and instantly damned himself for his voice sounding much too weak to be all that convincing. He tried again. "It's just ... it's only a scratch."
But he knew without looking that the newest wound was much more than that. The sleeve of the arm that he'd pressed against the deep puncture was already soaked right through, and rivulets of blood were running thickly over his left hand to drip onto the ground below. He wouldn't be able to hide the extent of the damage from Yuri - or their attackers - for long.
He heard the wicked laughter from the commander in front of them, and his right hand contracted reflexively on his sword hilt in a death grip as he heaved a painful breath and struggled back to his feet. The two men he had just slain lay in front of him, while the third one, the one with the long spear who had managed to get in the lucky hit, had collapsed trying to crawl back to the line. At least, he saw with grim satisfaction, not one of the surviving attackers of the most recent concentrated assault had emerged unscathed. Nor had the half dozen others who'd been in the first surprise ambush.
But now their numbers had tripled, and were surrounding Conrad and Yuri on three sides, with only the cliffside at their backs providing any sort of cover.
"Oh come now, little captain," the mercenary commander's mocking voice rang out across the clearing. "There's no way you can possibly defend your precious Maou now. You're fairly knicked, aren't you?" He gave a nasty grin. "It's pretty clear you can't hold out much longer." The man cocked his head in a semblance of gentility. "In fact, milord, you would be wisest to simply give in and surrender."
Conrad stared at the mocking face and something inside him seemed to snap. "Not in this lifetime," he snarled through his teeth, and he straightened with effort, thrusting Yuri behind him again with his bloody hand. He ignored the agony pulsing in his midriff and raised his blade.
"Conrad ..." Yuri whispered, and Conrad could feel the warmth of him against his back, and he drew from Yuri the strength he would need to continue the battle.
I won't fail you, Yuri. I won't let them take you. No matter what!
The commander chuckled again, as his remaining men began to edge further forward. "Well. As brave and foolhardy as I'd always heard, Lord Weller. Your reputation does do you justice!" He made a show of looking Conrad over appraisingly. "It's almost a pity, really, that you are so painfully loyal to the Mazoku, you know. And this despite everything in your rather embarrassingly public history!" He stroked his lip and then laughed, looking around at his decimated forces. "Obviously, I could use a man of your talents."
Conrad didn't waste his strength responding to that, and simply concentrated on keeping the closest mercenaries in view as he shifted his feet to give himself the best balance possible in his rapidly deteriorating condition. He wasn't going to fail this time. He wasn't!
"You're only prolonging the whelp's suffering, you know," the commander said almost conversationally, a vicious smile now etching his lips. "Not to mention your own." He considered Conrad and his stubborn stance for a moment and then sighed. "Listen then. I promise a clean death for you, and fair treatment for him as long as he remains my captive before handing him over to my ... employer." He flicked a knowing look at Conrad before dropping his gaze pointedly to the ground in front of Conrad's feet, where a small pool of blood was rapidly forming. "Be reasonable, Weller."
"You know what you can do with your 'reason'," Conrad spat, "as your men here can certainly attest." A small grim smile came unbidden to his lips at the flash of darkness that crossed the man's face. Nine of the most skilled fighters were already dead, with several others wounded and out of the fight. But far more were now in place, and his own wound was not ... was not inconsequential. And he was having increasing trouble gaining his breath and fighting back the agony. He gritted his teeth and hefted his sword, facing the slowly encroaching mercenaries. "Your 'hiring practices' ... seem to leave ... a bit to be desired."
The men surrounding them shifted restlessly, although it seemed to take a few moments before the insult filtered through.
"Half-breed bastard!" the nearest mercenary shouted, and lunged at Conrad, double scimitars flashing. "Think you're better than us, do you?"
Conrad barely caught the first blade against his foible, and jerked up his blade, elbow bent above his shoulder to lock the second on the quillon, before leaning back to slide the point of his sword directly through the man's chest as his momentum carried him straight into Conrad's arm. It happened so quickly that Yuri coudn't do more than gasp. The look of shock on the swarthy face opposite him would have almost been comical in other circumstances. Conrad ripped his sword free and raised it again, trying not to notice how it shook slightly. "So, any others who want to end their contract early?"
He would be damned if he was going to lay down his arms in order to spare himself more pain. He was going to take down every last one of these men. He'd do whatever it took to ensure that Yuri escaped, and lived to fulfill his destiny. His own death was of no consequence.
None at all.
"Conrad," he suddenly heard Yuri say quietly in his ear. "You can't do this. I'm not going to let you die for me. I won't. I ... I can't."
Conrad's jaw clenched. He could hear the hoarse terror in Yuri's voice, and felt that warm trembling against him more sharply than his pain. There were so many things he regretted, so many, but none more than ...
"I'm sorry, Yuri," he whispered, his breath hitching slightly, the pain bubbling up from deep within. "I'm so very sorry ..."
"You had your chance, Captain," the commander snapped, all trace of a smile vanished from his dark visage. "You pitiful fool. You will pay a price for cutting into my profits, I promise you." He unsheathed his own massive weapon in a showy flash. "Oh, your suffering will be great indeed." He raised a meaty hand, eyes flat. "Take them!"
And the mercenary army poured towards Conrad and Yuri in a wave of black malice, the promise of death glinting in their blades and eyes.
-----------------
The mercenaries rushed forward and Conrad met the first attacks with deadly force, no longer thinking, just acting and reacting, relying on reflex and training and instinct, nearly all of his conscious awareness focussed solely on Yuri. He had no ground to give; their backs were against the wall. He cut down the first few men who had rushed them in a futile effort to bring them down by sheer weight and numbers, and then there was nothing but the flash of his sword and his body moving in the gory dance that had become the song of his life as he fought them with everything he had.
But the odds were against them from the start, and when yet another mercenary managed to get under his guard while he parried the blades of two others, stabbing a swordpoint deep into his thigh, and another's weapon smashed against his exposed shoulder, he staggered, falling to his knees helplessly, and heard Yuri's scream of denial even as he desperately raised his sword again to knock aside the incoming blows.
"He's done for, boys!" shouted the commander in triumph, and Conrad, seeing nothing but red haze and tasting only the familiar black despair, roared as he surged again to his feet and threw himself bodily at the remaining men in a final desperate attempt to keep them from Yuri.
He scarcely felt the hits he took and struggled with every ounce of his determination and stubbornness and terror and sheer desperation to keep fighting, to keep swinging his sword, to keep himself between their attackers' weapons and Yuri, to keep from losing consciousness as the blood and strength and hope poured out of him until at last he had nothing left to give and he could feel himself falling again, falling, falling so far ...
... falling, falling ... falling such a very long way ... so far away ... so painfully far from Yuri ... and he was fading ... fading ...
No!
He wasn't sure if it was his own voice alone in his head, or one from somewhere outside it, but it thundered in a roaring echoing crescendo ... surely it resounded everywhere throughout the worlds, but his own pain and grief and the horrid knowledge of his utter failure was all he knew until bitter blackness claimed him and he knew no more.
------------------
From a very great distance away, he seemed to hear a voice. It kept calling a name. Not the name he vaguely knew as being a birth name given by parents, but a name dear and somehow familiar to him nonetheless. But he couldn't recall just why it seemed important. Nor who precisely belonged to that name. But it was the voice itself that seemed to lift him up, a voice that made bright light filter in through the black, and it was that voice which drew him inexorably from the darkness, dragging him back to harsh, painful, brilliant light.
But he couldn't follow that voice to discover whose name it was calling, find out who it wanted. He couldn't.
No. He was going somewhere, he was leaving. He had a journey to undertake.
He had somewhere else he had to be.
Yes.
"Conrad ... Conrad ..."
He could not resist that voice.
The voice that wasn't letting him go.
"Conrad ... Conrad ... no ... Conrad ... not Conrad ..." and on and on, the voice called, as if in a chant, and now the voice was clearer, and louder, and the light became brighter, and he could tell the voice was in pain, and hoarse, and wretched. He couldn't let the voice be that, not when it seemed he himself must have something do with it. The voice which somehow he knew, the voice that was ... precious to him, and still he could hear that almost familiar name repeated again and again.
He felt so weak. He was so tired. But the voice would not stop.
"Conrad ...don't go ... Conrad ... not him, please, please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
And he knew he would never let that voice down. He couldn't.
Not ever.
With effort greater than anything he felt he had ever made, calling on every ounce of his will, he forced himself to move, and stirred a little.
It wasn't enough. The voice continued, unabated.
"Please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
He concentrated all of his willpower on lifting his hand, and only managed to twitch his fingers. He couldn't seem to move more than that, no matter how he tried.
And it still wasn't enough. The voice wouldn't stop.
He concentrated on his breathing for a long moment and then, gathering himself, tried to open his eyes.
His first attempt was a spectacular failure. He lay there, listening to the keening voice calling for whoever belonged to that hazy-strange-familiar name, and put more effort into gathering his non-existent strength.
His second try was marginally better, and he slitted open his left eye for the barest fraction of a second before it shut again of its own accord. But in that moment he saw an indistinct blur of darkness blotting out a larger hazy wash of light right above him.
He took another shallow breath.
"Conrad ... Conrad ..." the chant continued, the voice hurting and no, that couldn't be ... "Conrad ... no, no, no ... please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
And with a rush of sensation he abruptly could feel his body again. The numbness vanished and it was with tremendous effort that he pushed back the whimper that threatened to spill out of his lips as the pain poured in and filled every inch of him with white-hot agony.
But it didn't matter. What he mostly he could feel now was the warmth and weight of something across his chest, near where the constant voice emanated, Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ... and he clung to that warmth with all his might.
Who was this Conrad? Why was the voice not letting him go?
He forced his eye open a crack again, and tried to focus with all his might on the dark shape hovering over him.
"Conrad ... please ... Conrad ... don't take him, I need him ... please ... please ... Conrad ... Conrad ... Conrad ..."
Conrad? It sounded ... the name was ...
He was Conrad, he suddenly realized with a start.
I am Conrad.
He marvelled for a moment. That voice ... it was callling for him, as amazing and wondrous and impossible as that suddenly seemed. And the voice, it belonged to ...
He gasped aloud.
Yuri.
It was Yuri. Yuri was calling him. Yuri was calling his name.
Yuri was calling him back.
---------------
It took an entire day for Conrad to be strong enough to try walking. Even with Yuri having recovered his own strength, both from what he knew Josak privately called 'Maou-ing Out' and thus saving them both, and from using too much of his own precious energies in healing the worst of Conrad's injuries, it took a long time for them to begin the journey home. And even then, their progress was painfully slow, with Conrad forced to lean on Yuri every step of the way. Yuri oddly didn't seem to mind in the least, however, and seemed more than happy to be a crutch for Conrad. And Conrad for his part couldn't help but marvel at how much Yuri had grown without his really noticing in the past half year; Yuri was nearly of a height with him now, and his musculature had begun to fill out. His physical strength seemed more than up to the task of supporting Conrad.
Conrad distracted himself from his ongoing pain by casting his mind back to those first hours after he had finally awakened fully from the battle to find Yuri keening over him, their enemies scattered and dead all around them, a wide swathe of destruction in a large circumference from the place where he lay.
At his tremendous effort upon regaining consciousness, Conrad had finally managed to stir a bit more, and then to whisper Yuri's name.
Conrad dragged his injured leg forward another few steps, feeling Yuri's arm tighten around his waist, and closed his eyes, remembering.
"Yuri ..."
Suddenly the endless repetition of his name ceased and Conrad could hear the breath catch in the throat hovering over his chest. He forced open an eye again to peer blearily up at the vague head-shaped blur above him. He tried to speak again. He was sure it came out as an incomprehensible croak. "Yuri ... are you ...?"
"Conrad!"
And suddenly Yuri was embracing him, and crying, and laughing, and pressing tear-wet cheeks against Conrad's neck, and hands were gripping his arms and shoulders tightly enough to bruise.
"Conrad, Conrad ... I thought I'd lost you ... I was so afraid ... I thought I'd lost you again ..."
Conrad had to swallow twice before he could make any more words come. "No, Yuri ..." he said, damning the weakness in his voice. "You'll never ... lose me." He tried to lift a hand to lay against Yuri's cheek, but his arm dropped, trembling, before he'd managed to raise it halfway. "Didn't I ... promise? I'll never ... leave you all alone ... again."
Yuri sat up slightly and looked down at him with a strange, unfathomable expression on his face, and his black eyes seemed to grow even more dark until Conrad felt he could fall into that gaze as large as a universe, full of stars and light and endless possibilities. Then Yuri let out a strange choked sound that might have been a laugh but sounded more like a sob, or something part way between, before crushing Conrad in his arms again. The hug had more than a desperate feel to it and rather hurt, though Conrad would have given his left arm again before voicing a complaint about it.
"Yuri ..."
But Conrad couldn't say anthing more as the pain flared searing hot and stole his breath for words clean away. Yuri's worried face swam in and out of view as he gasped, fighting to contain the hurt, and not to reveal just how much to Yuri.
"Conrad, I can't ..."
"It's ... all right ... Yuri ..." Conrad managed to get out. "I'm ... alive, thanks ... to you."
And he knew it was true. Yuri had saved his life, in more ways than one.
Yuri had saved him.
Yuri had saved him, as always.
And although the sadness suddenly crashed over him in its usual drowning wave, Conrad smiled slightly as he remembered that moment, the moment that shone so brightly in his mind, and in his heart.
"What was that smile for?"
He jerked back to the present with a start, and looked over at Yuri, who was eyeing him with a slightly bemused, slightly concerned expression. He shook his head.
"Just thinking, Heika." Yuri rolled his eyes at him, putting on a mock frown, but before he could speak, Conrad corrected himself. "Yuri."
Yuri smiled, satisfied, then glanced over at Conrad with a playful tilt to his eyes. "You know I prefer the name that you gave me to my title, Conrad. Or would you really prefer me to call you Lord Weller everywhere we go?"
No, Conrad reflected, he certainly wouldn't want that. Not when there was such power and magic in names, especially in Yuri's use of his.
"Or ..." Yuri suddenly said, uncertainly, "I could call you Conrart, like your brothers do, if you ... if you'd rather ..."
"No!" Conrad blurted out and then caught himself, and shook his head. "No, Yuri, I ... I prefer you to keep calling me as you will. It ..." But here it was Conrad's turn to falter. How could he explain that he loved that Yuri had a special name for him that was his and his alone?
Yuri was smiling. "There you go then. No formalities. Just Yuri and Conrad it is."
Conrad's mouth went suddenly dry at the thought, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, to regain perspective. "All right," he said carefully.
"And so ... that look you had?" Again, Yuri sounded so unsure.
As if Yuri could ever say or do anything to possibly offend him.
Conrad stopped and Yuri did too, and he turned to fully face Yuri who still steadied him with surprisingly strong arms. "I was once again realizing how very lucky I am to have you in my life."
Yuri smiled shyly, a delighted smile beginning to appear like the glimpse of sun edging out from behind clouds. "That's funny, Conrad. I was just thinking the same about you."
This time the delight was entirely on Conrad's part.
Perhaps the sudden onslaught of emotion was more strain than he'd thought on his physical strength, for quite suddenly his knees were buckling and his legs simply folded beneath him and he was helplessly falling again. Falling ... until Yuri caught him. And then Yuri was lowering him gently to the ground as his body seized with pain, each half-healed wound demanding his undivided attention for several precarious seconds.
"Conrad!"
He bit his lip and shook his head fiercely, willing the pain to subside enough for him to speak.
"Conrad," came Yuri's worried voice again. "Conrad ... are you okay? ... I wish ..." His voice faded slightly.
Even with his considerable will applied to the effort, it still took some time for Conrad to muster enough control to talk again, Yuri's hands tightening over his, until the pressure and warmth of that hand pulsed in stronger beats than the pain.
"Conrad ..."
He focussed on Yuri's voice, and his touch, and that brought a steadiness he didn't think it was possible to gain.
He opened his eyes, and forced a tired smile onto his lips. "I'm all right, Yuri."
Yuri stared at him, his own mouth downturned at the corners and a deep sorrow in his dark eyes. "I hate that you got hurt because of me." Yuri swallowed hard. "If I hadn't rushed off alone ..." His eyes squeezed shut. "I hate that you were almost killed because of me."
Conrad sighed. "First of all, that is my job, Heika. I have sworn to protect you. You are my friend, but you are also my charge. And I am your bodyguard, your guardian, your soldier, your knight, yours, Heika ..." yours in every way that matters ... "yours to command." He'd managed to stop himself before he babbled even further inanely onwards, even as he heard Yuri draw a sharp breath. He cleared his mind, and tried to get back on track. "To command in everything but that which would endanger you. If it makes you feel any better, I too acted with a certain lack of good judgement on my part." He winced at the thought of what Gwendal was going to say. "I ought to have brought a contingent of my men with me when I came after you."
"But ..."
"No, Yuri." Conrad gave a wry smile and reached up and touched Yuri gently on the cheek. "Yes, you are the Maou. Yes, that makes you a target. But no, you are not responsible for every bad thing that happens in Shin Makoku. And most importantly, what happened here wasn't because of you. It was not your fault." He met Yuri's gaze levelly. "It was those mercenaries, and especially the man who hired them, who are to blame." He clenched his jaw. "They were going to take you. And I could never allow that to happen. No matter what I have to do, no matter what I have to sacrifice." He closed his eyes at the thought of what had almost happened.
"Conrad ..."
"I would ... I would give everything I have, everything I could ever have, my own life a thousand times over, to save you, Yuri. And I will always be there for you. Always." He didn't dare look up at Yuri as he heard another intake of breath, sounding shaky and trembling. He felt more than a little tremulous himself. "I made a promise to you, Yuri. And I meant it, with all of my heart." His voice dropped away as again, against his will, the vow he'd made on that fateful day spilled out helplessly in a falling, eddying whisper. "I ... will never leave you all alone again."
He swallowed hard and tried to quell the shivering he could feel deep inside, listening to the sounds of Yuri hovering above him. He hadn't said at all what he wanted to, what message he longed to share. He had always been good with the gift of words, but now, for the life of him, he couldn't express what he really wanted to, what he ached from the bottom of his being to really say.
Yet another failure. He was lost in this too. He was hopeless.
But he had to try. Yuri deserved nothing less. He opened his mouth and took a breath to prepare to make the attempt, however hopeless it might be.
But Conrad couldn't say anything more at all as his breath was stolen clean away again, but this time not by pain, but as he suddenly found his mouth covered by Yuri's own, and the startled gasp he gave did nothing to deter Yuri from pressing even harder against him, kissing him with more intensity and passion than Conrad had ever been kissed in his life.
Kissing.
Yuri.
Yuri was kissing him.
For a long second Conrad couldn't grasp what was happening.
Yuri was kissing him. Yuri was kissing him.
Conrad's heart seemed frozen in his chest, his brain had stuttered to a complete halt, and his own astonishment threatened to overwhelm him, and he was suddenly supremely sure that this was all a dream.
Or that he really had died after all and this was some ghost of an afterlife wish, fulfilling his long-denied and buried heart's desire in a way reality could never, ever do.
No.
The thought suddenly hurt beyond what he thought his capacity to hurt could be, and Conrad could feel his heart on the verge of shattering. If he was dead ... then he had broken his promise after all. And Yuri ... Yuri was alone.
Some sound must have escaped his throat then because suddenly the dream-Yuri broke his kiss and lifted himself up to gaze worriedly down at Conrad's face.
Surely the Heavens-sent version of Yuri wouldn't look so completely terrified as he did right then, would he?
"Conrad ... I'm so sorry ...!"
Conrad realised through his shock a need for air, and he gasped again, lungs exploding as they greedily gulped in oxygen, ignoring the searing fire in his side as the motion tore at his healing wound. Surely he wouldn't need to breathe if he were dead ...
"Please, please forgive me! I didn't mean ..."
Yuri's eyes were wide with fear and for a long moment Conrad could only blink up at him.
"I'm so sorry, Conrad, I'm sorry, pretend I didn't do that ..."
Pretend? Pretend that that incredible moment, that moment of shining realization, that moment of the bright, bright burst of hope, had never happened?
Never. Conrad shook his head, a smile beginning to blossom on his mouth beyond his control. Not in this lifetime.
"Yuri." Yuri kept talking over him, apologising profusely. "Yuri," Conrad said again, more firmly.
Yuri didn't seem to hear him, immersed in his terror. "Conrad, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, but ... but you said ... and you just looked so ... so ..."
"Yuri!" Conrad reached up and grasped Yuri's face between both of his hands.
Yuri stopped breathlessly, but looked on the verge of babbling more apologies, tears glimmering at the edges of his eyes. Conrad couldn't bear to see Yuri so afraid, so anguished one instant longer, and he knew no way to extinguish that fear save one, and he took it.
He smiled the gentlest smile he could, hoping that the irrepressible happiness that he knew must be ablaze in his face wouldn't further scare Yuri, and drew Yuri's face down to him until their mouths met once more, and he poured all of his love and hope and joy into the touch, letting Yuri know without cumbersome words just why he had nothing to be afraid of.
For a moment, it was Yuri's turn to freeze in surprise, and then, still awash with amazement, scarcely daring to believe it was real, he felt Yuri melting into him, and returning the kiss with even greater fervour than before.
When at last they broke apart, breathing hard, and staring at each other with a thousand things being spoken in their gazes and pounding hearts and soaring spirits, something had inexorably changed.
And for Conrad, that change was palpable. He could feel the very air charged with sparkles of brightness, of rightness, and everything dark and ugly in his heart and soul and life seemed to vanish, replaced by the sun and beauty of Yuri's heart, brought on by his actions, his giving of himself to Conrad just as surely as Conrad had long ago given his own self to Yuri.
"Conrad ..." Yuri breathed, staring down at him with his gaze filled with whole universes of possibility.
"Yuri ..." Conrad responded, distantly surprised a coherent name even made it to his lips.
Because just then Yuri's smile had burst forth, sunny, brilliant, shining, and utterly the most beautiful thing Conrad had ever seen, and he knew he had truly been saved, in every way that mattered.
The bitter taste of despair had miraculously faded, to be replaced by the bright, sweet, glorious taste of sunshine and hope, and for the first time in a very long life, Conrad Weller broke completely free from the darkness that had shackled him for so long, and led by Yuri, his king, his friend, and at long last his love, finally stepped into Light.
---------------------
(this below is the art that originally inspired me! Lovely, no?)