Title: Take Your Medicine

Rating: T

Relationship(s): Kurama/Yusuke

Summary: Kurama and Yusuke participate in some talk therapy in an attempt to heal old traumas and wounds.

Notes: Yet another oneshot that's been sitting unfinished in my google docs. I finally finished so here ya go! Please enjoy and leave some feedback if the mood strikes.

Warnings: Talk of alcohol abuse and child neglect.

"Your mother is the best, Kurama."

Kurama was busily tending to one of more temperamental plants that he had harvested from Makai. It was a bone eating weed that produced a sap-like acid that could burn through any demon's flesh in less than a minute and a human's in less than twenty seconds. It was viewed as little more than a nuisance in Makai, as they were quite small in size, and typically chose to feast on the bones of demonic children after they had unwittingly stepped on one and released the painful secretion. Kurama had secured a seed from one of his many trips to Makai and took to nurturing it in a simple terracotta pot placed strategically in his closet and out of the way of curious human hands.

So focused was he on the plant as it wriggled rebelliously under the influence of his energy, that Kurama almost hadn't heard Yusuke. The moment he registered exactly what had been said, Kurama turned his full attention to the human sprawled lazily across his bed and examined the situation closely.

Kurama had introduced Yusuke to his mother years ago as a close friend and Shiori had welcomed him with open arms, as she did with anyone her son brought home. She was naturally a very loving woman and her affection spread rapidly to everyone around her. There was nothing she enjoyed more than caring for others and when she looked at Yusuke, she saw someone who needed caring for, someone who lacked maternal attention and desperately needed the sort of love that only a mother could provide. Kurama understood that though Yusuke had never said anything before now, and had a strong inkling that he never would fully admit it, Yusuke craved Shiori's gentle attentions. Yusuke's own mother certainly had never been generous with her affection and so far as Kurama had heard and observed from their interactions, there was little in the way of tenderness between them. In fact, if Kurama had to ascribe a word to the relationship, it would be 'obligatory'.

Realizing that Kurama had left Yusuke's comment without response for what would be considered an awkward length of time, he smiled charmingly and nodded. "Yes, she is."

Yusuke rolled over and met Kurama's gaze evenly. "I wish she was my mom, sometimes."

Kurama did not try to patronize the boy by saying that he shouldn't speak that way, that Yusuke should appreciate what his mother had gone through by raising him alone and having to work three jobs to support them. There was justifiable resentment and Kurama would never try to invalidate that by speaking down to Yusuke.

So instead he rose from his spot at his desk, making a brief detour to his closet to put the hissing weed back into it's sealed box, and joined Yusuke on the bed. This was not an uncommon occurrence. Yusuke spent many nights at Kurama's during the week, so often in fact that Shiori kept the guest room made up and prepared enough food to feed an extra mouth, just in case the young spirit detective might find his way to the Minamino household yet again. Yusuke appreciated the gestures, he always ate Shiori's food with gusto, though he rarely took advantage of the guest room. Instead, Yusuke often fell asleep in Kurama's bed, sprawled out like a starfish, while Kurama was working on homework or fiddling with his plants. Their bodies being so close, their warmth mingling so intimately, was a familiar comfort to both of them.

"You're welcome to move in permanently, you know." Kurama said, bringing up an offer that Shiori often made whenever Yusuke spent particularly long stints of time at their home. Kurama understood that Yusuke had, at first, took it as a sarcastic comment, a sign that he was spending too much time there and that he had outstayed his welcome. It didn't take long, however, for Yusuke to realize that Shiori didn't have a sarcastic bone in her body and that she truly meant it. But Yusuke had kindly refused.

Kurama knew this time would be no different and was unsurprised when he felt Yusuke shake his head against him, the boy's cheek rubbing softly across the surface of his chest. "I can't. You know I can't."

Kurama knew that Yusuke felt that he couldn't, but in truth there was really nothing stopping him. Yusuke had graduated high school and was legally an adult. He held down a part time job at the Yukimura's restaurant and spent the rest of his time doing side jobs for Koenma, despite the fact that he was technically retired as a spirit detective and things had remained mostly peaceful. Kurama understood that the only thing holding Yusuke back from making the official move from his mother's apartment was Atsuko herself.

But Kurama had been down this rabbit hole before, many times, and nothing except hurt feelings ever resulted from it. Thus, he said nothing and began stroking Yusuke's ungreased hair.

Yusuke sighed and leaned into the touch. This was also familiar to the two fighters. Admittedly a more recent comfort that the two partook in.

Kurama had always been attracted to Yusuke, had always found the boy's resilience and strength alluring and his uncontrollable ability to love everyone around him was intoxicating. He was also quite handsome—an aspect that never seemed to hurt. But Kurama had always believed Yusuke to be strictly interested in Keiko. And he had been for several years after their return from Makai. There had even been talk of marriage. But, unexpectedly, the relationship abruptly crumbled and the two separated and eventually officially broke up. It had shocked the entire group, even Hiei who only stopped by in human world one or twice a year, was utterly stumped by the news. Kurama had probed gently, as was in his nature as a cunning fox, to unravel the mystery that was the infamous Yusuke and Keiko break up. It took several months of subtle chipping, but eventually he got the gist of the story and it had not been nearly as dramatic as everyone had been theorizing.

Two different people with two different ideas of how they wanted to live their lives. Yusuke wanted to continue as a fighter, travel between human world and Makai, while Keiko desired a more domestic and strictly human life where she would not constantly be plagued with the fear of losing her husband to some brutal fight that she wasn't privy to. Things had ended amicably. Yusuke continued to work at the Yukimura's and Keiko had gone off to attend a large university in the city. They still talked frequently and the two still attended regular group events without the usual awkwardness that accompanied two ex's being in the same room. It was a relief to everyone, but especially to Kurama, that things had ended so well. Those who came out of painful relationships were rarely prepared to jump into another one after.

It only took a few weeks for Kurama and Yusuke to begin their thing.

That was the best that Kurama could describe it as. It wasn't official, for neither had verbally stated that it was, but it was an unspoken understanding that what they shared was much deeper than mere friendship. And Kurama was fine with that. For now.

"Atsuko is an adult." Kurama had to work particularly hard to make his tone non-confrontational, to not allow any amount of his true irritation to shine through. For he wasn't truly angry with Yusuke, nor even Atsuko. He was sure both mother and son were functioning to the best of their abilities given the unpleasant history they both shared and Kurama understood, better than anyone, what it meant to have someone criticize one's mother, even if it was well deserved in this case.

"She needs me. Who's going to take care of her if I move out? She'll drink herself to death."

There was true fear in that statement and Kurama instantly moved to soothe it away. He had been wrong to try and broach this topic again when Yusuke was clearly so vulnerable—wrong and cruel.

"Shhh." Kurama hushed, "You needn't worry about that right now."

"Sometimes, when I'm here, I pretend that Shiori's my mom." Yusuke snorted, though there was not a trace of humor in his voice. "I pretend like I've known her my whole life and I make up stories in my head about what kind of childhood I would have had with her. Kind of pathetic, huh?"

"There's nothing pathetic about that, Yusuke." Kurama meant it. "I'm sure my mother would be quite flattered."

"She's not my mom, though. My mom's a drunk and my childhood sucked and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's stupid to imagine shit like that. People have had it way worse than me. God, Hiei for instance. He was thrown off a fucking cliff and you don't hear him complaining."

"Believe me, Hiei has done his fair share of lamenting his past and using his fists and sword to dull the pain of it. There is no shame in expressing one's grief, Yusuke. None at all." Then, meaningfully, he added, "Just because someone has suffered more or, rather, differently that does not make your pain any less real."

Yusuke said nothing and Kurama took that to mean that it was time for a more intensive sort of soothing—the kind only a significant other was privy to give. So Kurama leaned over, his crimson hair spreading over Yusuke's frame, and kissed him softly. It was a comforting, tender kiss that was only meant to bring about some amount of calm in Yusuke. He hadn't meant it to go further and he strongly suspected that Yusuke knew that. But Yusuke was a physical being. He desired touch and intimacy when upset. So he leaned further into the kiss, hard, to an almost painful degree, and kissed Kurama passionately. It was the kind of kiss that was done blindly, eyes screwed shut and teeth clanking harshly together.

Kurama indulged him for a time, matching Yusuke's fervor and kissing just as ferociously. But eventually, Kurama slowly started to take control of the situation again, placing his hands flatly against Yusuke's chest and steadily decreasing the amount of force in their kissing until it slowed to a halt and Yusuke merely laid in his arms, panting.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Because that's not what you need right now, Yusuke."

"What do you know." The boy snorted, voice tinged with hurt at being rejected.

"A lot, actually." Kurama snarked, "And I know that you don't need passion right now. You need tenderness."

"Way to make me sound like a fucking pansy." Yusuke grumbled, but his body's tension had practically evaporated.

"Don't sulk. You're far too old."

"You're a real ass when you want to be, you know that?"

"Because I wouldn't have sex with you?"

"Yes!"

Kurama chuckled, "Yusuke, you're using sex as an outlet for your pain."

"And what the hell is wrong with that?!"

"I'd rather not be used as a faceless body for you to let out your frustration with." Kurama answered so flatly that it could have been mistaken for some sort of deadpan humor. But that had always been Hiei's realm of expertise.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

Kurama watched, highly amused, as Yusuke flushed a deep red in what he could only assume was embarrassment. "I'm not angry with you, Yusuke." It was important that he made this clear. "I want to talk about these things with you rather than allowing them to build up like this. It's not healthy."

"Are you taking psychology this semester?"

"Stop trying to deflect and steer this conversation away from the topic at hand."

"I don't want to talk about it. What good is it to talk about shit that's over and done with?"

"Pain that is shared is pain that is lessened." Kurama explained easily, because he truly believed it was that simple. In the beginning, at least. Kurama recalled the moment of relief he'd felt when he was able to share his own past with Hiei—the first person in his human life that he'd been able to divulge his secret to. It had been liberating. "That's the first benefit."

"Any others?"

"Numerous."

Yusuke sighed, long and exhausted. The sort of sigh that should never come from the lips of a boy so young. "It's hard. I don't even know where to begin."

"From the start. What is your first memory?"

"I broke into mom's alcohol cabinet." He smiled fondly at the memory. "I was a little shit, always getting into things and causing trouble. I was always meant to be a rebel, that's what my mom always says. But that's the first solid memory I have of ever doing anything bad. I was like three, I guess."

Kurama nodded and began a steady rhythm of patting against Yusuke's stomach, feeling how the muscles there tensed as he relayed his story.

"Mom used to care about child safety back then, I guess. She kept all the liquor locked up in this cabinet in the kitchen and I always got a good whack in the head whenever I went near it. I think that kind of enticed me more than it discouraged me." He chuckled, "Anyway, she left it unlocked one day and I started digging around in there while she was napping. I broke a bunch of crap and she came running in, screaming her head off. That was also the first time I got stitches, now that I think about it."

"It must have been traumatic." Kurama observed.

"Eh, not really. Anyway, she stopped locking up her supply and I lost interest without the challenge. I think maybe she was onto something there."

"You're mother was very young when she had you." Kurama knew this based solely on the fact that he knew how old Atsuko was now.

"Yeah, fourteen. Her parents kicked her out and she had to move in with my dad and his family."

The mention of Yusuke's father was startling, but Kurama schooled his expression instantly. Yusuke had never mentioned his father, not once. And Kurama had never asked, believing it to be a sore subject.

Kurama voiced his surprise gently, "You've never mentioned your father before."

Yusuke shrugged. "It's never really come up. He's nothing special."

Kurama considered pressing for more, but he knew it would not only be considered rude, but unhelpfully nosey. So he waited Yusuke out, continuing his gentle caresses.

It didn't take long for Yusuke to break. "He's kind of a deadbeat, you know? Like, I remember him being there in the beginning, vaguely. I remember him and my mom fighting constantly, about money, about sex, about booze. Anything and everything turned into an argument and eventually he got tired of it and left." Yusuke sighed, "I mean, he wasn't the worst guy on the planet. He'd visit every few weeks the first few years and he always sent my mom money to help out, though that would always piss her off." Yusuke laughed bitterly, "She was always the 'I don't need a man' type of woman."

That did not surprise Kurama in the least. When every man had done nothing but disappoint or abandon her, it was no surprise that Atsuko had written everyone off and decided to take on the world alone.

"Anyway, after a while, the visits sort of stopped and turned into yearly birthday cards. I haven't actually seen the guy in years."

Kurama nodded "It sounds like he too was young and ignorant. He didn't understand the opportunity he was missing out on."

Yusuke snorted, "What opportunity? The way I see it, he got out before things got real messy. He missed all the times my mom would come home shitfaced, and the times we had got kicked out of our apartment for not making the rent, and all the Christmases where our only present was that we got to eat that day, and the countless times my mom lost her job, and all the times I got suspended or kicked out of school for being a shit, and a crapton of other things that any sane person would be grateful they escaped."

"He missed the opportunity to be a father to a great man." Kurama said, sincerely, seriously, and unwaveringly.

Yusuke was speechless for a moment and seemed to be considering Kurama's words carefully. Kurama knew that it was in Yusuke's nature to ward off painful topics with humor and self-deprecating comments, it was a defense mechanism that Kurama recognized and respected. There were appropriate times to allow Yusuke to laugh his way out of a serious conversation and then there were times like this, where it was necessary that Kurama be firm and push more than usual. Sometimes, in order to heal, pain was an unfortunate necessity.

"That's a lot of pressure you're putting on me. A great man? I think you've given me too much credit." Yusuke gave Kurama a smirk, but his voice was calm and lacked the usual humor that would accompany such a statement.

"No, it is you who does not give yourself enough credit, Yusuke." And that hurt Kurama, perhaps more than it did Yusuke, who truly did believe that he was a failure. It hurt Kurama that after all this time, all these years later, Yusuke still didn't see himself the way that Kurama did, the way that all their friends did.

"Maybe." There was an air of finality there. A line was being drawn. This was territory where Kurama was not welcome.

"Maybe." Kurama agreed, if only because he realized that he was coming dangerously close to permanently shutting down any further conversation on the matter. Kurama learned a long time ago to pick and choose his battles, it had saved his life many times during his Yoko years. Right now, the wound he was poking at was still too raw, but drawing attention to it was the first step in beginning to heal. Kurama would work on it with him. But for now, in his opinion as a healer and as someone who bore his own past traumas, it was alright to let this matter rest. "My initial point remains true."

"And what was that again?" Yusuke asked flippantly, though Kurama could see genuine humor returning to his eyes.

Kurama smirked rested his lips on Yusuke's head, "That you are welcome to move in." Yusuke opened his mouth to argue, Kurama cut him off quickly before he could spew the same recycled excuses. "I'm not saying to abandon Atsuko completely. You are still her son and she is still your mother. I would never suggest that." Kurama soothed, "But you must also consider your own health and happiness. Perhaps a little distance will do the both of you some good."

"Yeah, but—"

"Don't make a decision now." Fingers found their way from Yusuke's hair to the base of his neck, Kurama enjoyed the soft warmth there, and scratched lightly with his fingernails. Yusuke scrunched up at the sensation, but was practically purring after the initial shock wore off.

"That's not fair." Yusuke grumbled as he leaned into Kurama's tender touch. "You can't do that everytime you want to shut me up."

"Ah, but it works so well."

"D-don't be an ass."

Kurama leaned over, hair tickling Yusuke's cheeks, and gave a fox-like smile. "Kiss me."

"Hell no! Not after you made me spill all that shit. You think you're so sly, but I know you, Kurama." There was no true anger, but Yusuke did so love to pretend like there was.

"Let me make it up to you, then." Kurama placed three chaste kisses on Yusuke's forehead. "The choice is yours."

"Again, no fair! Using your kisses to-to—" Yusuke paused when Kurama landed another three sweet kisses on his cheek. "Ah, fuck it. Kiss me."

And Kurama did just that.