He won't tell precisely when it started, or rather, when he started to be certain of these things. He notices the way Conrart looks at His Majesty, the way he speaks to him and of him, the way he is around the boy, and --

It's a petty thought, really. A needless waste of his time. But Gwendal has caught Conrart that one time lean down inappropriately close to His Majesty, their shoulders touching, and he couldn't help but think, 'Fool.'

+

The trick is to walk ahead of the group so they don't see his face when he looks at... things. Things like the white, pig-shaped balloons sold at the corner, or the furry brown cat tiptoeing atop a wall. Still, out of habit, he tries not to stare too long and willfully fights down the urge to smile. And he keeps this up that every few minutes he has to rub his forehead, pinching the tight folds between his fingers.

Earth, as much as Gwendal's loath to admit, is very much a trying place.

When they stop for some drinks, His Highness comes to him with a tall plastic cup of cold beverage. "A slushie, is what we call this," His Highness explains, handing him the drink. "You don't want to suck on the straw too quickly, though."

"If I do?"

"Well, there's enough ache in your head as it is."

Gwendal snaps his gaze up. The Great Sage doesn't meet his eyes and just sips on his own drink, a small, knowing smile around his straw.

"Hn."

A young girl skips by, drawing Gwendal momentarily to the yellow pompoms bouncing down her knitted cap and --

He tugs his attention away --

only to see His Majesty and Conrart, sipping on their drinks, standing together a little off to the side. Gwendal can't see Wolfram anywhere close by, but the scene before him goes down too fast he barely has time to pause and look around for him:

His Majesty says something to Conrart. Then Conrart opens his mouth, but it's not to say something back. It's to close his mouth around His Majesty's straw and take a sip of His Majesty's drink. After Conrart releases the straw, His Majesty takes it right back between his lips. Whatever look that is that they share, Gwendal finds it all too intimate for his taste.

When Wolfram comes into view and yanks His Majesty away, Gwendal is confident enough at this point to believe one thing: if nothing else in Shin Makoku or on Earth truly mattered, the engagement least of all, Conrart would -- Conrart would kiss --

Gwendal stops before he ends up revolted out of his mind. Instead, he frowns at his cup of slushie.

His Highness turns back to him. "Is there something the matter, Lord von Voltaire?"

"When is there not?" he mumbles around his straw.

+

It's almost impossible to go to sleep, above all, when he can smell it. It's so faint it may as well be not there, but it is. He breathes in and he smells it, this raw, fevered scent -- something he's come to know but by circumstance, and certainly not by choice. He knows it as distinctly Conrart, undeniably human.

Back, back in the day, whether they clashed swords under the sun or lay together on their mother's bed, their head on either side of her chest as she hugged them all night in a new fit of loneliness, Gwendal would catch a whiff of it in some way. He knows that scent of Conrart all too well, that frail half of him that is not mazoku.

From where he lies on the floor, Gwendal glances up to the couch where lies Conrart. In the soft black of the night, he sees Conrart's hand curved over his...

Gwendal looks away, frowning. It's hardly his first time to see Conrart touch himself, but it's a rather appalling sight somehow when Gwendal knows, and not that he merely thinks he knows, who is presently in Conrart's thoughts.

He hears a slight shift on the couch.

"Gwendal? Are you awake?"

"Hn." Still frowning, Gwendal raises his eyes.

Conrart slides his cheek over to the edge of his pillow so he can look back at Gwendal. The drapes allow in enough moonlight to show the thin smile on Conrart's face, as well as the hand that now lies on his thigh.

"Wolfram dropped his trinket in the fountain earlier," Conrart says. "He seemed just saddened by it, so I lent him mine. I hope you don't mind."

"... It is just a toy."

"His Highness said you wouldn't leave the claw machine until you got me the purple one."

"Hn."

"Thank you, Gwendal..."

While Gwendal will never doubt his sincerity, something has to be amiss when Conrart says those words and he sounds more apologetic than grateful.

He reckons Conrart has seen him see them.

In light of this, Gwendal comes to a decision. What he really ought to give Conrart is something more than just cute, or purple. He starts with a piece of his mind. "This is my first and last word on this foolishness. Wolfram is exceedingly dogged. He is not going to want to part with His Majesty. On the other hand, His Majesty does not have it in him to hurt anyone. Even someone he likes less than you. If you do not wise up soon enough, I could make things easier for you now and cut your head off right here."

Conrart's smile opens up, and under his breath, there's a gentle sound of mirth. "Ah, Miko would not appreciate the bloodstains."

"Her name is Jennifer. Go to bed." Then Gwendal turns to lie on his side, his straight back facing the couch. When he exhales, he can feel the heat of his breath extending into the dismal warmth around them.

"Do you miss home, Gwendal?"

"Of course not," Gwendal says, almost snappily. "Not yet." After all, they've barely been away a day and a half. And it's been a very short day and a half, too; not nearly enough time to... see more things... or watch more of the dancing penguins on that television machine --

He shakes his head, harshly, because this has to stop before he finds himself torn between wishing to stay on Earth and wanting to bring home every winsome thing he can to stuff his shelves, or Greta's arms, with.

It's after a while that the living room settles back into silence. ...somewhat. When Gwendal inhales again, he smells it again -- sweat on Conrart's skin, heat from deep within him. He listens to Conrart gasp out His Majesty's name. And then he closes his eyes, finally, placing all his trust in Shinou's will.

END