Disclaimer: I claim no rights to Yu Yu Hakusho, or any related characters or merchandise, and make no profit from the writing or distribution of this work of fiction.
If there is one thing Yusuke didn't expect about being King, it's that the job is actually rather boring. It consists mostly of waiting, and of listening to other people – well, other demons, in his case – complain about their problems. Which, of course, he's never really cared about, anyway.
And the goddamn seats are always uncomfortable, he grumbles internally, shifting. He's the self-proclaimed master of the elegant sprawl, but the effect here is somewhat ruined, as he can't seem to find a position that keeps the arm of the throne from digging painfully into his back.
He's so preoccupied with trying to get comfortable – and, really, hasn't anyone ever considered putting fewer angles on these stupid thrones? – that when the soft voice drifts from the shadows to his left, he starts in surprise.
"You called, my lord?"
"Fuck!" Yusuke swears, and then curses again as the stone seat attempts to bury itself in his spine. Gentle laughter precedes the pale form that slides from the darkness.
"Apologies, my lord," Kurama says, making absolutely no effort to seem sincere.
Yusuke glares at him, rubbing sullenly at his lower back. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" he snarls, then mutters – as an afterthought – "And don't call me that, either."
"He shouldn't be able to surprise you like that, anyway, lord," comes the snide response – from the right this time – prompting another jerk, curse, and bruise from Yusuke, who gives up and stands, disgusted.
"Can't you two ever use the door?" he demands, turning his glare on Hiei. "And stop calling me that!"
"It's a proper title, my lord," Kurama protests. "After all, you've won the Tournament several years running, now."
Yusuke grimaces. "Yeah, about that…"
He catches Hiei rolling his eyes, and Kurama arching a delicate eyebrow, and attempts to explain himself. It goes – well, honestly, about as well as he expects it to. Which is not at all.
"There's a Committee meeting coming up," he begins, and that's all right, but then he finds himself taking an abrupt tangent.
"Well, 'Committee orgy', really," he babbles nervously, "but who's keeping track, right?"
"Yusuke," Hiei interrupts impatiently, and he's incredibly relieved that Kurama chooses that exact moment to have pity.
"You need an escort."
"Well…" Yusuke says carefully, "more a Pet, really."
Hiei doesn't even try to conceal his disapproval, and Yusuke really can't blame him. A Pet is nothing more than a glorified slave, after all – designed to be a measure of its Master's strength. The stronger the Pet a demon can tame, the stronger the demon.
Committee meetings have never been anything more than excuses for making showy displays of power, and Yusuke knows enough to realize that the Committee's starting to think he can be overthrown. He needs to prove that he's still the favorite contender to take the Tournament this year, and showing up with a Pet of the power levels either Hiei or Kurama have will make a powerful statement, indeed.
"All right."
Hiei blinks in surprise. "What?"
"Why not?" Kurama elaborates, shrugging. "He is King. It is not my place to deny the requests of our lord."
Yusuke scowls, displeased.
"Our lord and friend," Kurama amends, with a placating smile, and Yusuke subsides, satisfied.
"'Why not?'" Hiei repeats incredulously. "You would lower yourself to the status of Pet for nothing more than Yusuke's request?"
Kurama only shrugs again.
"This is ridiculous. There is absolutely no reason for this. Yusuke's easily the most powerful contender," Hiei reasons, "and everyone knows it. No one else even comes close to the kind of power he has."
"Shura," Kurama interjects softly.
"Yomi's pipsqueak?" Yusuke asks. The last time they saw him, he was no more than a kid. But, come to think of it…when was the last time anyone saw him, anyway?
"Not anymore," Kurama informs them. "Rumor has it that Shura's become quite the competent young warrior. He's quickly becoming the odds-on favorite to dethrone you, my lord."
"Huh," Yusuke muses. Hiei says nothing, just rolls his eyes, turns sharply on his heel, and heads down the hall.
Figures he'd use to doors to make his exit, Yusuke considers, amused. You get all the added drama of slamming a door behind you.
"Be that as it may," the fire-demon tosses back, sounding absolutely disgusted, "I refuse to have any part in this fiasco. I'm nobody's Pet."
"I still need a bodyguard," Yusuke calls after him, grinning.
"And?" Hiei retorts, not pausing for an instant.
"I'll pay you," Yusuke tries, with one last ace tucked up his sleeve.
"I don't care," Hiei answers, but Yusuke's fairly certain he didn't just imagine that tiny stutter in the fire-demon's determined stride.
With an exaggerated sigh, Yusuke plays his trump card. "More than Mukuro."
Hiei pulls up short, one hand on the double doors to the throne room. "So," he observes mildly, without turning, "you've managed to learn something during your time as King."
"I'm not stupid," Yusuke responds, shrugging. He's already won, and he knows it. The rest is just for show.
"Double."
That gives Yusuke a moment's pause. "What?"
"Pay me double what Mukuro's promised," Hiei elaborates – rather unnecessarily, as Yusuke already knows what he means. He considers it briefly, then grins.
"Deal."
Hiei barks a laugh and turns, smirking. "Agreeing without hearing a price, and with no attempt to haggle? Perhaps you haven't learned quite as much as I thought, lord." Yusuke just shrugs again.
"Fine, then. Congratulations: you've just bought yourself a bodyguard." And with that, Hiei's gone.
Yusuke watches the double doors to his throne room swing slowly shut and marvels at how easy it is to manipulate someone. Well, once you know what you're doing, at least.
As if on cue, Kurama drapes his arms around Yusuke's shoulders and across his chest. "So," he asks softly, "how angry do you think he'll be once he figures out you're paying him with gems I lifted from Mukuro's treasury?"
Yusuke considers this. "About as angry as he'll be once he figures out that you've been working for me since I came to power. Oh," he adds, as another thought occurs to him, "and once he figures out that this was all your idea."
Kurama winces. "I may need to begin making contingency plans," he muses, and Yusuke can practically see the gears in his mind kick into overdrive.
"Hey," he demands, taking the fox-demon's chin in one hand and crushing their mouths together hungrily, all teeth and tongue and panting breaths. When he finally breaks away, Kurama's lips are swollen, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glazed. Yusuke likes the image. "After this damned Committee meeting."
At that, Kurama smiles, and Yusuke forgets to breathe. No one should have the right to look so alluring.
"Will I need the leash and collar, my lord?" he asks demurely, turning to leave. His tail brushes across Yusuke's groin, and Yusuke can't quite stop the resultant groan from escaping his throat.
"Yeah," he mutters breathlessly, reaching out for the fox-demon. Kurama evades him easily, coyly.
"As you wish, my lord," he says, the submissive tone colored with subdued laughter, and as he exits the throne room, his lover hard and wanting behind him, Yusuke's left wondering just who is manipulating whom.