Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Parental Guidance ❯ Nowhere Love ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Please Note: NO ONE TAKE THIS FIC SERIOUSLY. I don't like or agree with this pairing, nor do I think that rape in any form is ok.

 

WARNINGS: Basically everything that was mentioned and hinted at in this first chapter but not delivered: YAOI, semi-INCEST, foul language - Get the picture? The way I look at it, if you didn't want to read this stuff you wouldn't have clicked on the title on the stories page in the first place.

 

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Parental Guidance

Chapter 2: Nowhere Love

 

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Kurama was contemplating jumping out the window when the door swung violently open. The old lock had given out.

 

“Shuuichi!” The door crashed back on its hinges, the coats hung on its back preventing the doorknob from punching the wall. Hatanaka's face was red with passion, the whites of his eyes standing out a stark contrast. It has been proven that a human's eyes will first be drawn to the contrast of white on red. Kurama put a hand on the window frame, ready to push off when, “I'll tell Shiori!” Kurama stopped and stared incredulous.

 

Was this his stepfather or a grade school child?

 

Childish or not, the tactic had worked. Kurama had not jumped and Hatanaka was now beside him. Hatanaka's hands were now on the window. Hatanaka was now closing the window. Hatanaka was now cutting off Kurama's only means of escape.

 

Why was he not reacting?

 

Kurama was too dazed by the sudden change, too confused by the fact that his home was rotting away from beneath his feet to move. He just fell down, down, down.

 

“I heard him you know,” Hatanaka teased vilely, pleased that the boy was now all his.

 

“What?” Kurama, for once in his life, understood the human need to `sit down.' He didn't know if he could take all of this standing. He was too wise and upset to be angry and too distracted to be upset and wise. The kitsune couldn't register this human as a threat and yet…was he not trapped; was he not being threatened; had not he been struck?

 

“That boy was in here. I heard you call his name.” Kurama's eyes only narrowed as Hatanaka continued. “I've heard you call his name,” there was a suspicious and gleeful glint to the man's eyes. “Late at night, over and over again I would listen,” Hatanaka's eyes closed in lusty remembrance. Kurama flushed with anger and embarrassment, Hatanaka only perceived a blush. “Don't worry, Shiori doesn't suspect a thing. But I, sleepless and restless, I always wondered what he was doing to make you cry out so.” Hatanaka leaned in, taller and imposing upon the confused teenage boy. Slowly, horribly, his large hands reached up towards that young and pale face. To Kurama, these were the hands of dread itself. He backed away, leaning out of the unwelcome reach. Hatanaka's eyes narrowed. “Why do you avoid me?” The older man stepped forward. “You welcome that brat into your body, but shy from your father's embrace?”

 

“You are no father of mine,” Kurama spat out. “Now leave me alone.” The black of his pupils drowned the peaceful green irises in an angry and devilrous death.

 

Hatanaka frowned, “But…what if I tell your mother?” Green eyes froze in shock and fear as solid as blue ice. Hatanaka was obviously pleased with the result his question had delivered. “What if I tell your mother that her perfect, brilliant and miraculous son was nothing more than a loose-holed faggot, huh? Can you imagine what she would say?”

 

Kurama grit his teeth, “She would not believe you.”

 

“Oh of course she wouldn't, not at first,” Hatanaka smirked. “But in everyone lurks an Othello, she will believe me with time. What will you do then?”

 

“You're not the only one with teeth…” Kurama trailed off weakly, his mind suddenly preoccupied with the cell phone Hatanaka had pulled from his back pocket. With all the maturity and pride of a schoolyard bully, Hatanaka waved the device before Kurama's eyes, taunting him.

 

“Can you imagine if Shiori found out that I had `accidentally' discovered you and that disgusting friend of yours fucking each other?” With melodramatic and purposeful movements, Hatanaka opened the flip phone and placed it to his ear. Eying Kurama, he blatantly pretended to converse with his wife, “I couldn't believe it! I stepped out for a moment to buy tonight's dinner, thinking that it would be nice to sit down and just talk with Shuuichi. But when I got back home and went to check if he had come home yet as I was concerned for his safety, I saw him and another boy…having sex in his bedroom! I've never been so shocked in my life!” Hatanaka held the phone out tantalizingly to Kurama, “I'll I have to do is press `send.”

 

Right in from of his nose, Kurama could see his mother's cell phone number on the bright screen, mocking him with its brilliant indifference. Angry beyond words, betrayed beyond feeling, destructive beyond thought - Kurama snatched the phone out of Hatanaka's loose grip and smashed it against the wall with enough force to crush its metal casing. It was an amazing demonstration of strength that momentarily rocked the depraved man back onto the defensive. Kurama's chest heaved and his eyes were beams of sour yellow, “ I will not say it again.” His voice was ground out from the depths of his mind's hell, “I owe you no allegiance. Now leave me alone.” There was one problem with Kurama's conviction, a slight crack that brought a smile to Hatanaka's lips. The trapped boy's eyes flickered to the damaged cell phone and then the door, a small slip of nervousness.

 

“No.” There was finality in Hatanaka's tone, hardness in his eyes and victory in his nerves. He rushed forward. Kurama, trapped in the corner, dove across the bed, pulling his feet quickly out of the man's reach. But Hatanaka tackled him and landed his much greater weight squarely on the slim redhead. Kurama was strong, but with only the physical power of a mortal at his disposal there was little he could do against the bone-breaking bear hug he was engulfed in. He thrashed, kicked, pushed - but his stepfather held on. Quietly in the boy's keen ear, Hatanaka whispered, “Think of Shiori. Hurt me and I'll tell her…almost everything.”

 

Kurama stiffened at the touch of warm breath. His eyes widened and then he went still.

 

“Now that's a good boy.” Hatanaka released the boy only to roughly flip him over so that they were face to face. Kurama's eyes were murderous. Hatanaka ignored the glare. Instead he propped himself up on his left elbow and began caressing that beautifully flinching face. “You're so pretty. I even thought you were a girl the first time Shiori introduced us. You had me so distracted that I missed her say `son.' I remember thinking that you were too pretty to be as perfect as Shiori believed. You couldn't be, not with these eyes, this skin, this hair and this slender body,” each remark was accented by Hatanaka's admiring touch. Kurama's expression never changed. He never reacted, not once. “Then she mentioned that you had never had a girlfriend and I knew.” Hatanaka gave Kurama a promiscuous wink. “I knew you were fucking the boys. You could make anyone want you, but it wasn't until I heard you call his name that I decided I wanted you too.”

 

Kurama had known, hadn't he? The lingering touches, the staring eyes - now that Kurama recalled the past several weeks, how had he not known? He had been too hopeful, wanting to get along with this man despite everything to please his mother. Everything had been for his mother. And not once had he registered this man as a threat, not to this degree. He'd had too much pride in his ability, too much confidence in his safety, and had placed too much trust in his family. His eyes burned.

 

“What do you want? What can you hope to gain?” Kurama had to know.

 

“I want you of course!” Hatanaka gripped fistfuls of red hair and yanked back, drawing a surprised yelp from the teen. Kurama's head was pulled back at such an angle that his eyes ached when he tried to look down at his stepfather. His vision blurred. “I want to make you scream my name like you screamed his.” Kurama's eyes widened. For the first time, he was truly afraid.

 

“Hatanaka don't do this -”

 

“Call me Kazuya.” Hatanaka crushed his lips to his stepson's, forcing his tongue inside before Kurama could react. His tongue was thick and Kurama could feel its every probing movement within him. The kitsune wanted to retch, wanted to bite, wanted to fight, but he couldn't. If he so much as bruised the other man, Hatanaka would fill his mother's mind with the worst of stories. And whether or not it was likely that she would believe him, Kurama couldn't risk that seed of doubt. She was the one person who had ever looked at him with undisguised warmth and love. Kurama would do anything to keep that gaze untainted, absolutely anything.

 

Hatanaka was fondling, touching, searching him - poking, prodding, pinching; all pretenses of gentleness and restraint were gone. He was doing anything he could to make the boy react. He preferred pleasure, honestly wanting to see the lust he knew this sick boy contained, but pain was a very close second. In purposefully causing pain, there is control. “I could drown myself in you,” Hatanaka whispered admiringly. The words went towards his self-satisfaction. He was practically ignoring the life within the squirming figure of androgyny delighting his eyes. “I could be swept up in your little everythings and never know when to stop.”

 

The buttons on Kurama's tunic, so artfully undone by Hiei, were clumsily fumbled by Hatanaka's indelicate touch. The man couldn't be angry or frustrated, though. He was finally getting his prize, this perfect creature was underneath him and unable to do anything about it. Each button was something to be enjoyed and he relished them, as if he was unwrapping a gift from the sadistic gods above. No, nothing could make him unhappy tonight.

 

Kurama squeezed his eyes closed at the sensation of a hand sliding down his chest in smooth sweeping motions then slip underneath his back. Fingers probed at the sensitive skin of his lower back, massaging in furious fascination. Suddenly Kurama was roughly pull upwards into Hatanaka's body, their bodies held forcefully together. Kurama's eyes widened in surprise. In that brief moment, he glimpsed the flushed and sweating face of his stepfather, eyes rolling in the blissful heat of their two bodies. There were tears waiting for their moment behind Kurama's eyes, but his anger was stronger than his shame and held them at bay.

 

Hatanaka had been waiting for this for far too long. The boy was simply everything he'd imagined: hot, sensual, supple and oh so sensitive. Shuuichi could try and resist, but every time Hatanaka would brush a nipple or pinch a delicate fold of skin the boy would jump or flinch or start. The little, almost concealed gasps were like little wisps of air, fanning the flames of his passion and desire.

 

Tense and breathless, Kurama was slowly lowered back down to the bed's comforter. His arms were carefully guided free of their sleeves, and then he was shirtless. Throughout everything, he could not panic. If Hiei sensed his danger, Kurama had no doubt that his little lover would be crashing through the window, blade in hand, before he had time to take another breath. Calm, Kurama…just remain calm.

 

It was a curious thing. Hatanaka had never been with someone of his same gender, had never even desired to be with another male. Each action was new, each moment was an exploration, and he had the perfect specimen at his disposal! Now the pale and lean chest was laid bare before him and he could not keep himself from playing. Hatanaka leaned forward. His hot lips brushing the tender skin, watching as Kurama bit his lower lip, eyes averted. He gave the pert nipple an experimental lick and watched, fascinated, as Kurama involuntarily arched into his mouth. Emboldened, he clamped down hard and sucked on the sensitive flesh. His hand began teasing the other nipple, all the while watching his stepson's reaction.

 

It was too much; Hatanaka was hurting him! The man was ruthless in his naiveté. Kurama's lower lip was swollen from his own teeth, and his eye muscles ached at how tightly they were clenched shut. Sweat had broken out across his forehead, but he would not cry out like Hatanaka wanted. He would not make a sound for this man. Hatanaka may have stolen his body, but his pleasure, love, and thoughts now belonged to Hiei.

 

Eager fingers suddenly slipped beneath Kurama's waistband, combing the patch of coarse red pubic hair. Hatanaka didn't want to rush this, not this long-awaited tine with his Shuuichi. He had the whole night. With the tips of his fingers he began stroking and teasing Kurama's shaft with feather light touches. Kurama refused to make a sound. His cock was hardening at the disgusting acts, and he gasped with each gracing touch, but there was neither passion nor lust within his body. No light shone from his eyes. Hatanaka was too preoccupied to notice. This was about him finally possessing his stunning stepson. The boy beyond what little bit of skin and tissue Hatanaka was fondling at that moment hardly even mattered.

 

Slowly, in an odd attempt to be alluring and even sexy, Hatanaka pulled Kurama's pants down his body, making a point to remove each ankle and foot in its own turn. He did the same with the boxers. Now at Shuuichi's feet, Hatanaka suckled the artfully crafted toes. Each was perfectly proportioned and wonderfully round and tasteless in his mouth. Shiori enjoyed this, maybe her son would too. He began dipping his tongue in the webbing between each toe, licking up to the tip and enjoying the slickness of the nail.

 

Kurama's feet were ticklish, something Hiei often took merciless advantage of, and he was helpless to prevent his quivering with each movement of that repulsive tongue. As defense, he let his mind wander. He couldn't prevent his body's initial reactions and reflexes so it was pointless to try. Kurama was too old and too well schooled in the rituals of sexual abuse to blame himself or become angry and upset. Time and experience had taught him to ride it out and not become caught up in the false passion, though his stepfather's awkwardness made that the least of his worries. He still had his speech, though. Hatanaka would not gag him, as he was too determined to hear Kurama scream, in that the kitsune was confident.

 

“Hatanaka - uh.” Glaring green eyes rolled back in his head. For a second, he lost himself. A hot and overly excited mouth had descended upon his dick. Kurama's fingers played across his stepfather's head, grabbing at his short hair and holding him in place.

 

Hatanaka remembered when Shiori did this to him. It was hard to learn by feel, but he was trying. A satisfied smirk quirked the corner of his mouth when he felt the pressure on his head. He obliginly took Shuuichi in as far as his throat would allow, trying hard not to gag.

 

Reason fleeing, Kurama bucked up into the older man, begging to be taken again and again and again. Hiei forgive him….

 

Thrilled, Hatanaka gripped Kurama's hips for all he was worth, holding the boy steady as he willingly allowed his stepson to fuck his mouth. This was what he wanted. He ran his tongue along the swelling vein on the underside of Shuuichi's cock; pulled away to bob only on the head, dipped his tongue into the slit (Kurama's eyes squeezed tight, moaning and arching his back until Hatanaka thought he might split himself in two); and then deep throated and sucked with all his pent up want and anticipation.

 

Kurama's whole body tensed, a small cry of pleasure and surprise escaped his lips. In Hatanaka's mouth, the older man could feel the boy tense, the vein throbbing and pulsing, the whole cock moving with the vein's beat. Not knowing exactly what to expect, Hatanaka puffed out his cheeks slightly and let his mouth be filled with his stepson's cum. It was, honestly, not the best sensation or taste. Perturbed, Hatanaka spat it out on the floor.

 

Gray shadows of thought clouded the kitsune's mind for several moments. His nerves were singing the Holy Grail, and his whole body ached from how long he had been perfectly tense. The thoughts unpleasantly condensed into a discomforting image of reality. He had been turned over onto his stomach. The comforter of his bed stared uncaringly back at him.

 

“I wanted to take my time with you. Tease you until you came to me, night after night. I'm sorry my son that I was only able to get us one night together. Can you forgive me?”

 

“No…” Kurama spoke not to the words, but to the touch he felt a second before he was pierced. Hatanaka was naked, lying almost on top of Kurama. His left arm was underneath Kurama, lifting and supporting the boy's upper body. With his right, Hatanaka was violating his stepson. One finger, so far, had been pressed all the way inside the handsome teen, tickling and stretching.

 

Kurama was helpless, his breath ragged and his mouth hanging open in pure fearful misery. Empty, alone and utterly forsaken, Kurama could hear Hatanaka's every hitching breath so close to his heightened ears. His body instinctively fought against the intrusion: his muscles tightened and clamped down on the unwelcome digit, he squirmed, he tried to pull away - despairingly knowing that each move he made only further pleased his wicked stepfather.

 

It's just like fucking a woman, thought Hatanaka. Except for those muscles, how tight and secure. He was moaning just thinking about how this would feel…truly feel. Lust driving him faster; he spit on his hand, wiggling his fingers about until a second finger was wet and ready. This may have been his first time with another guy, but it didn't take a brain surgeon to figure it out.

 

The fingers inside Kurama were scissoring, pulling him apart. He wouldn't give in; he wouldn't relax. Hatanaka had said Kurama couldn't deny him, but had said nothing about Kurama making this easy.

 

Hatanaka reveled in the struggle. There would be no fun in so easy a claim. This was all part of the game. He inserted three fingers.

 

“Ah!” Shit!

 

“There we go, Shuuichi.”

 

Frustrated with his momentary lapse, Kurama clamped back down, gritting his teeth. He eyes were pressed shut against the comforter.

 

With a hint of mischief, Hatanaka pulled his fingers free. Kurama held his breath, knowing what was to come next. He flexed the muscles in his lower half even tighter. Hatanaka spat on his hand again, using it to lubricate his own shaft. Then, with a glint in his eyes that would have made Kurama very wary had he been in a position to see, Hatanaka reached down with his left hand and tickled the bottom of Kurama's feet. Kurama gasped, losing the breath he had withheld. And in that second, Hatanaka shoved in.

 

“Oh god,” Hatanaka moaned. It was like fucking a woman, but at the same time so very different. It wasn't as wet or as soft, but it was oh-so-much tighter. The friction was remarkable. Not knowing any better, Hatanaka gave his stepson no time to adjust to his presence. Each stroke was slow at first. Kurama winced with every motion. His stepfather's size wasn't enormous, and for that Kurama was incredibly grateful. But nonetheless it was dry and rough. He felt nothing but awkward pain. He wanted so much to pull away and hide under the pillows, but the older man wouldn't let him.

 

Hatanaka was moving faster and faster, pumping to his heart's content. The boy was everything he had imagined. The smooth skin and tightly muscled back far surpassed Shiori. His silent shudders and barely audible gasps were better than any groan or cry she had ever given him. Even the teen's angry indifference was ambrosia in his veins. Every moment he registered just whom he was fucking he was sent to new heights of passion and wanton desire. The curve of his spine, the narrow waist and heaving chest - the heat was building, burning inside him - he moved faster, harder; their hips were banging together almost painfully. Something in Shuuichi changed, Hatanaka had hit something buried deep inside the boy. A strangled moan reached his ears and then it was all abandon and brightness and ecstasy.

 

“Shuuichi!”

 

Kurama shuddered in pain and exhaustion, waiting for Hatanaka to ride down from his orgasm and finally pull out of him. Cold sweat coated his entire body in a terrible sheen. A shower, he needed a shower of purging saltwater.

 

“Oh Shuuichi,” Hatanaka breathed. He fell on his elbows and spoke right into Kurama's ear, “Oh Shuuichi, why didn't you tell me that you were this good. I would've taken you ages ago.” Pulling himself out and leaving that young body was the last thing on Hatanaka's mind, but his own tired limbs were demanding otherwise. Reluctantly, he slid himself free and collapsed onto his side.

 

“You got what you wanted. Now get out of my room,” Kurama refused to look at his stepfather.

 

“But Shuuichi…”

 

“Get out!”

 

“Fine,” half pouting and half chuckling, Hatanaka dragged himself off the side of the bed and drearily stumbling out the door, gathering his clothing as he went. He shut the door behind him, but not before retuning to place a chaste kiss on his stepson's still bare ass.

 

Still too shocked and unsure of what to do next, Kurama simply lay there and tried to think.

 

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Every inch of Hiei's skin crawled - whether with anger, passion, or disgust he knew not. Shrill notes rang through his head and his hand was surprisingly numb as it crushed the branch it gripped.

 

Kurama was a fool. The fox's actions had been too sudden, too desperate to warrant credibility. As if a pretty please from those equally pretty lips would be enough to send Hiei on his merry way - it wasn't. Suspicious, Hiei had only pretended to leave. He had sped far and fast away only to dampen his ki and then retrace his steps to his lover's home. Hiding in the shadows within the thickly leaved tree, Hiei had watched everything. Now he was breathing hard, hovering and waiting, and, above all, watching.

 

Kurama lay upon his bed, still and lifeless as a discarded doll. His eyes were open wide but unseeing, cunning gaze turned inward. Then, through the sensation of blood trickling down his thighs, he felt it…a whisper against his aura and a fleeting image across his mind, Hiei. The feeling grew stronger and stronger until it clouded his mind and then, slowly, cautiously, disbelievingly, Kurama rolled to gaze over his shoulder. Fear! Red eyes out of a child's horror story, glowing in the inky darkness of a very black night, stared unblinking.

 

They moved at the same time. Kurama half rolled-half leaped off the bed, snatching the comforter off and wrapping it around his exposed body in one motion. But Hiei was faster. The demon had stabbed his fingers into the windowsill, shoving the window up against the will of its locks, and pounced on Kurama, slamming him against the far wall by his throat. Stunned and gagging, Kurama managed a level gaze, classifying his inability to breath and the black edges on his vision as second priorities. Kurama had expected the attack. I am NOT going to be killed over a misunderstanding.

 

Moments passed and neither moved nor blinked.

 

Sensing his victim was near to passing out, Hiei loosened his hold but continued to stare with wrathful judgment. His vice-like fingers quivered slightly. Hiei didn't know what he felt.

 

“Satisfied?” Kurama asked, his voice raspy from the pressure on his throat.

 

“Hardly.” Hiei's demeanor remained unchanged. Kurama rolled his eyes in exasperation. Hiei's hand tightened.

 

“How long?” Kurama choked out.

 

“I never left.”

 

“Good.” Kurama visibly relaxed. His body slumped. Startled, Hiei let go to catch the falling kitsune. He wasn't willing to put an entire body's weight on the thin neck. With contrastingly loving care, Hiei laid the boy gently on the bed then wrapped him in the dropped comforter.

 

“My love…” Hiei whispered, stroking that soft face. Kurama lay limp, surrendering to the one he could trust. Internally he was simmering in anger. Hiei had been there and had done nothing! But Hiei had also understood Kurama's urgency. Yet that was not Hiei's true reason for holding back; oh no, it was nothing so romantic as that. This was demon love - suspicious, curious, always testing - and something he could no longer simulate. His demon self crooned, while his human self screamed.

 

“My demon,” Kurama smiled, pained. “I should have known, you fucking hypocrite.” He spoke with animosity, but neither reacted to it. This was ritual. “My life was not in danger therefore you sat by and watched in order to judge my strength. And now you touch me with such a loving caress. How cruel.”

 

“Settle. I was not disappointed. You have never disappointed me.”

 

“Then why keep testing me?” Kurama bit back.

 

“It is my nature.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Silence spread thickly through the room. Kurama was pensive. Hiei was carelessly curious.

 

“What do you plan to do?” Hiei asked. Kurama shot an annoyed glare towards the infuriatingly demonic man.

 

“I will…take away his leverage over me - tell Mother about you and me, but Hatanaka can still tell mother whatever he wants about me. I doubt she'll believe him, but I can't risk the tension that his lies would bring upon this family…”

 

“Why do you bother?” Hiei interjected.

 

“What?”

 

“You still call this unit you live in a family?”

 

“Yes,” Kurama challenged. “I do.”

 

“And you will leave your mother at the mercy of a man she obviously knows little about. Interesting… Don't you fear for her precious safety? Where is your over protective nature now? Remember, this is the same woman for whom you would give your life.” Hiei was snide, calculating. It was fascinating to see his fox at such a moral crossroads. How strong his human conscience had seemed. Maybe this humanity thing Kurama was so insistent on was nothing more than a shiny plastic coating over his broken morals.

 

Kurama sighed, rolling exhaustedly to lie on his back and stare straight ahead at the ceiling above. “Hiei, think.” Kurama's contemptuous tone brought a frown to Hiei's cocky mouth. “Hatanaka attacked me because I am the unclosed edge of this family. If I were not here then he, his son, and my mother would complete a traditional and loving family unit. My presence is the constant reminder of my mother's imperfection in Hatanaka's mind. Sure, he's a sick and twisted bastard for his handling of the situation, but he obviously would not hurt his son nor will he ever lay a hand on my mother as long as I exist for an outlet, someone to blame. To him, I am not her fault. Hatanaka wants me to shrivel away out of existence so that his son is the only son. It does not help that I am beautiful and brilliant. To conclude, she is in no danger. Besides, Hatanaka and Shuuichi's presence in her life means that I can back away from her. I will always watch out for and love her, but, at this point, she is Hatanaka's responsibility, and he has made it very clear that he accepts her as his charge.” Kurama paused, eyes bright, and turned his head to gaze at Hiei, “You know, I could bypass having to tell Mother anything…”

 

“You expect to reason with him?” Hiei scoffed. “If you're dumb enough to walk into his hands again, I reserve the right to burn down this house and rid the world of a few more idiots.”

 

“Hiei, you harm a single hair on anyone living within this household and I will never speak to you again,” Kurama snapped, his eyes narrowing threateningly.

 

Hiei raised an eyebrow mockingly, “Whoever said you have to speak.”

 

Kurama opened his mouth to respond, but could think of nothing to say. That had hurt. He gazed down and away, refusing to look at Hiei, and fell silent. Hiei didn't know what to make of his suddenly sullen fox. Tact had never been his expertise and emotions even less so. Both remained silent. Kurama mentally shook himself, but still refused to face the other demon. “That was in bad taste, Hiei.” Hiei didn't respond - Kurama hadn't expected one. Several more moments passed in tense silence. Then Kurama suddenly turned quietly bitter eyes on his love, “If that were true, how are you any different from men like him?” Hiei's eyes widened, surprised, and Kurama chastised himself for his emotional leak. “Never mind, forget I said that.”

 

“I will,” Hiei's voice was surprisingly stern.

 

“…It's just…oh fuck, never mind. Ignore me. My self-control seems to be waning,” Kurama said with some voyeuristic fascination. “A moment please, Hiei.” Kurama pushed himself up on his elbows, only then remembering that he was naked under the blanket. Without a word, he rose and proceeded to dress. He didn't look at Hiei the entire time. Complete and utter exhaustion came abruptly over him in overpowering waves. He felt the strange sensation behind his eyes that would indicate tears if he could cry. Instead he felt empty, drained, and ready to forget the world in sleep for several days.

 

“Hiei…You're getting no sex tonight so you might as well leave. You have satisfied your cruel curiosity already.” Kurama paused. “You are being no comfort and I am in no mood to tolerate your harshness.” He finally looked up to face the small demon man. “Sorry…Hiei…I need you to leave.”

 

“No.” Hiei's tone was flat.

 

“…”

 

The two men stared each other down for several moments. They were held frozen by the intensity of the moment. Kurama wanted nothing more than to collapse into a warm embrace, but he couldn't break down yet. A shattering of his stoicism was what Hiei was trying to manufacture. Sure, love was shared between them, but a person would be sorely mistaken to believe that this meant they were kind to one another. Pushing and shoving, prying and piercing - they were constantly trying to discover a crack. No demon would tell another living soul of their weaknesses. In the demon world, love and hate were very much alike.

 

“If I leave,” Hiei began, “you will run to Yusuke. He's so charmed by you that he won't even ask `Why?”

 

“And?” Both men knew that Kurama was slipping, but the redhead wasn't going to give in. How he wanted them to just be normal! Mind games were half the fun, but even Kurama had difficulty seeing how this was still a game. He wanted to be done with it, but he would lose Hiei if he said so. “Tell me, Hiei,” Kurama spat out, “what is so terrible about cherishing the love and protection Yusuke is willing to give me?”

 

“You prefer his adoration to my respect?”

 

“Right now, you're respect is hard to distinguish from your disdain. I would give my life if I believed it would please you! But I will not forsake the life that I do have. Respect? I've had your respect since the day we first met! You will never have a right or reason to revoke that. But tell me Hiei, when did you choose to revoke your love?”

 

“I-“

 

Kurama cut him off, growling. “Get. Out!”

 

“No! You're mine! Mine! Not that bastard half-breed's - I will not allow you to keep throwing yourself in his arms!” Hiei was livid. No one ever told him what to do.

 

Kurama's voice was suddenly dangerously low, “I am no one's.”

 

Hiei shook his head violently, rising up from the bed, “You. Are. Mine.” Then, he was gone. Kurama dashed to the window just in time to see Hiei disappear from sight.

 

“Fuck you!” Kurama punched the wall angrily, “God damnit!” And now his hand hurt like hell.

 

His arm fell limply to his side and his shoulders slumped. Minutes passed in silent desolation then, abruptly springing to life, Kurama grabbed a jacket and left his room. Hatanaka was waiting for him outside in the hallway. “Lovely boyfriend you've got there.”

 

“Shut up!” Kurama brushed roughly past him.

 

Hatanaka began laughing, “Don't be out too late Shu-chan.” Kurama halted at the appalling new nickname. Every fiber of his being cried for him to kill this man, but he forced a false calm and, without a word, went down the stairs and out the door.