Hello! This is a giftfic for the lovely ShizukanaShi, who requested a Yusuke/Hiei fic. I hope you like it (though I feel like you're going to hate me by the end). 3 Don't kill me please 3

Yaoi. If you don't know what that means, you probably shouldn't be reading this. Rating in place for a very good reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own YYH. I'm just as shocked as you are, believe me.

"He will never understand your love. He will only understand your desire."

And hell if the fox wasn't right about some things. He hated him for that.

He also hated him for the way his words haunted him long after they were spoken, despite his refusal to reply. There was something in his tone, knowing and hard, that set the youkai on edge, but he moved forward anyway. His goal was within his sights.

It wouldn't have even occurred to him if the damn detective hadn't died. If he hadn't been backed into a corner like Kurama and Kuwabara had, made to reach a potential that none of them had known they possessed. He would never have considered it without the anger that his death, his betrayal, had sparked in him. That, and a well-timed conversation with the fox.

The final battle had been one in which Hiei had been open about his passion, unencumbered by his pride. It had been a willing fight to the death, a final stand, a knowing rally despite imminent defeat. That, he supposed, was what sparked the kitsune's interest. His openness about the detective's value, his distraught at his slaying.

Just days after the boy's resurrection, the fire demon found himself pondering the ways things had turned out. Sitting with his back against the wall in the corner of the kitsune's room, he drifted through unformed thoughts, pulling at bits and pieces of his consciousness to try and extract some sort of greater meaning in his actions. Deeper answers evaded him, slinking away to a part of his mind that he was not ready to examine, a part barricaded with chains around his self-worth. It was just as he was beginning to grow frustrated that a melodic voice breached his thoughts, taking him to a different place entirely.

"You're confused about how you feel toward Yusuke, aren't you?" His eyes opened slowly to find the fox looking at him with mild interest. It was clear the face he wore was painted on. "I don't blame you. I went through the same thing, during the Dark Tournament. I found myself… troubled by it." Hiei had only stared, but his look was imploring enough to get the kitsune to continue, even if was pretending to sound bored.

"You're beginning to wonder if you're in love with him." The fire demon's eyes narrowed, but the look behind them changed. As if faced with an option he had not yet considered, he turned his face away, thinking. The kitsune studied him for a moment, watching as the gears began to turn. "It's only natural. He has saved all of us more than once. In more than one way." Hiei turned his gaze back to the fox, a shadow over his crimson irises.

"Do you love him?" The kitsune shook his head quickly, letting his attention be captured by something past the glass of his window.

"No. But I thought I did, for a while." His voice dropped, a hint of something that Hiei could not identify taking residence in his tone. "Yusuke is an easy target for projection, after all." The fire demon stared for a moment before considering the possibility of a love interest again, missing the meaning in the kitsune's last words.

"Yusuke." He said simply, as if sampling the name, testing. The clouds behind his eyes cleared somewhat, and he folded his hands together, lost again in thought. The fox smiled gently in his direction, but it was gone quickly.

"Will you tell him?" It was Hiei's turn to shake his head, his gaze seeming unfocused. He stood, making for the window and slipping out quietly, throwing a last haphazard glance at his companion before disappearing.

"My actions have always spoken louder." And he was gone, an afterimage in the night.

The kitsune had only sighed, burying his head in his knees.

Confessions were not in Hiei's nature. Neither was romance, nor courtship. It had been all he could do to make it to the detective without completely giving up on the idea. When he found him, smoking a cigarette on a bench somewhere off a beaten path in one of Mushiori's more dense parks, he had simply followed his instincts.

Yusuke didn't expect it when he was kissed. He certainly didn't expect the heated glare that was directed toward him as the fire demon straddled him, knocking the smoking stick to the ground. He didn't expect the tongue probing for entrance into his mouth, or the rough grip on his hair. The usual part of his brain screamed that something was wrong, that this Hiei was clearly an imposter or under some sort of hypnosis, but something new in his blood sung otherwise. It whispered of possession. So he kissed back.

They never spoke about it. There really wasn't much of a chance to, between the kisses and destroyed clothing and mind numbing fucks. There was an undeniable force between the two, a magnetism that kept them within each other's grasp when they were together and that drew the fire demon to his window when they were not. The days that passed were blinding, disorienting, burning. Hiei couldn't help but wonder how he had lived without this sort of intensity before, how he had spent his nights in near uniform celibacy, how he had drowned out all thoughts of physicality. He wondered how he could have survived for so long without the other inside him.

There was no tenderness in it, no mercy. They bit at each other, clawed, reveled in the screams and panted out mantras of more. Hiei completely drowned in it, the detective showing a side of himself that he knew no one had ever seen before. It pleased him, knowing that he had been the only recipient of such violence, of such pleasure. It was all he could do sometimes to just hold on, to ride out the wave that Yusuke caused but never seemed to crest, to keep his eyes from fluttering closed. In these moments, he was thankful that the boy wasn't human; it would have been such a disgrace to be brought to such rapture by no more than a man. Yusuke was no such thing: he was a Mazoku. He was a king.

Yusuke fucked him like it was punishment for capturing Keiko all those years ago. He tore into the smaller body with no remorse, bent him double, relished in every scream and wail that made it past usually cold lips. He ripped through pale skin with inhuman nails, always leaving the sheets stained with mutual completion and murky patches of blood. He never meant to be so rough, but Hiei could take it, could take every ounce of lust and rage and what else that he pounded into him. And love every second.

What sent Yusuke over the edge was the difference between the stoic façade of the day and the body that writhed underneath him at night. Hiei was nothing like he imagined, nothing he could have put into words before their first tryst. It had been a shock that first night, after dragging him to the lonely apartment after the kiss in the park, to find such need behind the three foot wall of bullshit that Hiei pretended was the truth. It was utterly intoxicating: the way he'd moan the detective's name, the voice that had quieted over the years growing loud and high in his ecstasy, the way he begged. It only spurred him on when the youkai's face contorted in a beautiful mix of pleasure and pain, his eyes deepening in color when he didn't avert his gaze. It was all the detective could do not to come when Hiei rode him, not to flip him onto his stomach and press his face into the mattress. Even when he did, Hiei gave as good as he got.

It was after a particularly exhausting session, one that left them both so covered in sweat and semen that they literally stuck to the sheets, that Yusuke caught the fire demon staring, a look in his eyes that the other hadn't seen before. He raised an eyebrow and Hiei looked away, hating himself for being caught. The detective sat up, running a hand through the white mess that coated his stomach, and turned to the other.

"What?" Hiei didn't meet his gaze, instead pulling himself up and finding his footing before limping to the bathroom, sore all over and most likely with a twisted ankle from Yusuke's rough treatment.

"Nothing."

There was no more said as the door shut, sounds of water and slow washing echoing in the small space. Hiei sighed, grumbling to himself as he stood in a stream of warm water, fingers scraping against his insides as the detective's completion dripped down his legs.

His mind was on the fox, a string of curses running through his head at the memory of their last conversation. It had only been a few weeks since he and the detective had begun their nightly rendezvous that he had thought to visit the redhead that had given him the idea in the first place. As he expected, the kitsune had asked about it, but Hiei had found himself uncommonly uncomfortable at the thought of discussing it with him. Kurama had stared at him for a long time, silent and contemplative, before he offered his piece of unwanted wisdom, his voice as cold as ice.

"Be careful, Hiei. Even your heart is prone to breaking."

He didn't give an answer, but as Hiei turned to leave the sensual alto caressed him again, quiet and dangerous.

"He will never understand your love. He will only understand your desire."

Keep a look out: there's more of this to come! Also, other requests are on their way: I'm on a break and this just practically wrote itself.