Love
A/N: Once again this is slash….do NOT flame me for it…or go ahead…either way I don't really give a damn.
It started with a tender, cautious touch. A tentative whisper, afraid to be heard. The rustles of sin as satin sheets were opened to admit the source of the temptation. "Youko, please…" A gasp. Silent pleas to be quiet, yet yearning for more. But it was innocent, in a 13 year olds way. Surrounded by sin, they took pleasure and comfort in the only way they knew how. But later, later they learned to like the pain they found outside their little bubble. They began to enjoy it. Realized the way it felt. And soft tender touches turned cruel and sadistic. Soft whimpers turned into harsh, feral moans, and guttural demands for more.
They grew to love the world they had lived in for 500 long years. Loved the stealing, the killing, the sex. The gratification, the satisfaction of doing something wrong. The thrill of escaping authorities, the sweet exhilaration when the realization hits that it is fear that gets you places.
But later, oh so much later, Kuronue is gone, and Youko stuck in a human body, "repenting". Youko, dear, sweet, redeemed Youko, having turned away from his life of crime and passion, gets one wish at the end of his long, long probation. But don't they know? Foolish, trusting, people, that a criminal can never truly be reformed? Don't they know that Youko lives to feel the exhilarating triumph of another heist? Don't they know it'll be Kuronue that he wishes for? Obviously not. Poor, poor fools.
Don't they know how much Kuronue and Youko meant to each other? Don't they know the meaning of love?