It was funny, but the few times he’d fantasized about having an extramarital affair to escape, if even for only a few hours, the complete and utter madness that was domestic union with his accidental husband, he’d always figured that he’d go for… well… a woman, quite frankly. Long legs and curvy hips and soft skin and all those other feminine charms he’d never gotten the chance to partake of, that is what flitted about in his fantasies.
Of course, he’d neglected to factor in cross-dressers, and he’d especially forgotten to factor in Yozak.
Everything had been going so normally. Wolfram was reading to Greta from Anissina’s latest children’s short fiction in the garden. Conrad was giving Yuuri lessons in swordsmanship, or maybe it was parade etiquette again, he couldn’t really remember. That wasn’t the important bit, anyway. The important bit was Yozak parading around in a maid outfit, which was not really an extraordinary circumstance; Yozak would often neglect to change out of his ‘work clothes’ once he was finished whatever covert ops he’d been assigned to because, hey, the man liked the dress-up a little and wasn’t ashamed to show it. So. Semi-normal cross-dressing. Whatever. This usually wouldn’t present a problem, except… except…
Except that day it did. And Yuuri still cannot for the life of him tell you whether it was the sway of his hips or the high-heeled shoes or the full, glossed-up lips (though he is sure that the sultry little wink was probably the biggest factor) that set him off, but in any case a casual glance away from Conrad (blah blah swords blah) towards Yozak’s slow sashay across the yard was all took to bring Yuuri’s entire world view—or at least the part concerning our favourite redhead—crashing down around him. For the first time in his many years of cross-dimensional habitation, Yuuri became sharply aware of one startling fact:
Yozak was hot.
This was a shocking realization, as is often the case when one finds themselves looking at an old friend in a newly sexual light, and considering that Yuuri had never once in his life been particularly attracted to the masculine gender his frank and open stare is perhaps forgivable (though Conrad shall probably still tease him about it for years to come). The husband, luckily enough, was for once occupied with something other than watching Yuuri like a hawk, and did not notice the young man’s sudden interest.
But Yozak did.
“Liked what you saw, your Majesty?”
“You hiked up your skirt,” Yuuri groaned. “You hiked up your skirt and I couldn’t stop staring and everyone saw me and they all know where I am tonight.”
“You’re the king of arguably the world’s most powerful country, kid.” Yozak pulled Yuuri onto the bed. “They’re all just wondering why you haven’t slept with half your court already.”
Wolfram stood beside the breakfast table, arms crossed, foot tapping. “Where were you?”
“I had things to do.” It wasn’t even a lie.
“That smell,” Wolfram’s voice was a tight, furious whisper, “have you been borrowing Yozak’s cologne?”
“Isn’t that Conrad’s shirt you’re wearing? It’s too big on you, Wolfram.” Yuuri smiled, fake innocent. “I’ll tell the maids to be more careful with the wash.”
They sat down and ate as if nothing had changed.