Disclaimer: I don't own Yuu Yuu Hakusho, or any of its characters. Those belong to Yoshihiro Togashi-sama, who made a lot more out of them than I ever could have. ^^;; I just do fanfiction for fun, and earn no monetary rewards for writing it. Reviews are, of course, worth as much as silver.

Title: In My Dreams
Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho
Pairing: KuramaxHiei, HieixKurama

Warning: Implied shounen ai (just fluff ^^;; )
Author: Kita Kitsune
Date: Sunday(sun-day!) February 10, 2008
Miscellaneous Notes: Just a little nothing-fic that I felt like writing in the early morning hours when I'm supposed to be catching up on sleep for the school week ahead. x.x Happy Valentine's Day, if I don't get another out before then~? . Saa…

Misc. Notes (Saturday, April 18, 2009): Hi, everyone~ I found some time and decided to post a few of my stories on AFF on this old account. :3 When I get time I'll put the fics I -can- put on here, on here. ^^;;; Ehe. Don't expect too many chaptered stories, though. Enjoy the fic~

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Love exists in many ways.

Some of the best are unspoken…

And yet—the winners are always those actions that play dear to the heart.

Like the strumming of a long-lost melody of the soul.

For two hearts that have forgotten the wistful joy of being physically near…

: : :

He didn't suppose he would ever become used to Hiei's sleeping habits.

The room was cool, quiet… dark shadows played across the floor, as well, moonlight dancing over the polished wooden boards, falling over the disturbed blankets and sheets like ghostly feathers—and highlighting the equally pale features of the sleeping figure beside him. The little koorime was beautiful, like this… truly, his features held a peace to them, of sorts, something that almost seemed innocent. The Jaganshi's breaths were easy and soft as they escaped gently into the sheet beneath them—Hiei had always rejected the idea of a pillow. This had never been a spoken statement, but in the morning, when Kurama would wake, the koorime's pillow would be shoved to one side of the bed, nearly falling off as the little demon was curled into a ball on his stomach, unconsciously taking up as little space as he could.

For now, though—the youkai was curled beside the redhead, one forearm lying just centimeters from his face, the countenance pressing one cheek to the covered mattress beneath. His elbow was bent comfortably to accommodate the curled position, knees drawn up—one just below the other, but not completely. Another of those small, strong hands was pressed flat under the Jaganshi's chest, Kurama assumed, as he couldn't spot the appendage from his point of view. Messy ebony bangs streaked with white fell into the softly-featured face, and a slightly rosier hand moved to brush them away from the closed orbs, just lightly.

A small, faint murmur echoed from the back of Hiei's throat, at the touch—perhaps in his subconscious he had felt the contact, and the koorime's head even tipped gently into the movements of Kurama's fingers—slight as they were—against his skin. Even to this endearing scene, the auburn bangs shielding the wakeful one's own sight from view prevented one from detecting the kitsune's reaction—his face remained impassive enough to do his previously demonic self apt justice, as well. Those larger, warmer digits traced down the koorime's cheek just barely, fingertips merely skimming the surface now and then, when they dared.

It was amusing, to say the least. Here he was, so careful, with this one… so very aware of how Hiei would react to too-affectionate gestures, and thus resigned to adopt a course of action where the Jaganshi would not suffer from his own amorous tendencies. The kitsune withdrew his fingers, noting the barely-discernible frown that marred the expression of his companion. For a few minutes the kitsune merely studied the reposed features of his bedmate—before then quietly shifting the covers from himself, tugging the sheets up over the sleeping one beside him. A momentary purr-like noise resounded from Hiei's throat, at that, and the little demon snuggled into the warm coverings.

What happened next was entirely Kurama's fault, and he should have seen it coming.

Strong, willowy arms reached out to pull the Jaganshi close, grasp tightening over the small, delicate—but notably hard and muscular—form as he pressed his sleeping partner's face against his chest, hands drawing to meet in fists behind the demon's shoulder-blades, but not clenching into any fabric. Jade eyes had snapped shut long ago, and the redhead could feel from within him his own throat constrict as he pressed his nose into the spiky-soft strands beneath it, inhaling subtly to catch the other's wild scent of pine and ash. Kurama would almost swear that his limbs were shaking—and yet Hiei was still asleep, still blessedly oblivious to the way the kitsune was almost trying to pull him into himself, safely tuck the little spitfire away into his chest so the koorime would never leave him alone, again.

Kurama didn't blame Hiei for his absences. No… now was not the time to think of that. For now, Hiei was in his arms, and safe, and reachable… The koorime would be gone, tomorrow, and they would be parted for another few months, perhaps a year, limited to only the messenger orbs that would be sent back and forth. That quiet knot in the redhead's throat only grew, at the thought, and he swallowed silently to try and dislodge the tight lump that had claimed its residence at the start of his esophagus. Those arms around the Jaganshi slowly lost their tautness after what might have been an eternity—although, if Kurama had cast a glance to the clock that took up residence beside the bed, he might have known it had only been a half-hour. Swallowing a sigh, an exhale that had wanted to escape… the kitsune tried to tempt sleep, sliding quietly down until he could curl against the other's chest, resting his forehead against the dear Jaganshi's clothed collarbone. Hiei was clad only in an old, worn shirt of Kurama's… as he was wont to wear when he visited the kitsune, as Kurama always took it upon himself to toss the koorime's intensely-worn clothes into the wash as soon as his visitor stepped inside.

Here, the sigh escaped… and somehow, the redhead felt drowsier. With the dull human ears he possessed, he couldn't hear Hiei's nucleus pulsing beneath his skin… but the warmth and scent of the other youkai was enough to perhaps soothe his tormented mind into a state of tranquility that might grant him sleep. Nearly asleep—it might have been hours after he'd drifted off, he couldn't know—a faint warm pressure on his eyebrow elicited a murmur from the sleeping fox, the nearly-unfelt action jostling him to a vague moment of wakefulness that he wouldn't remember when the morning fully came. All he knew at the moment was that something light had touched him, there, and made his sleep-fogged brain hazily contemplate tipping up into the touch, if it was what he assumed… But, all too soon the instant of coherency was gone, and he remembered nothing more, falling back into dreams of which he would later half-assume that the kiss had been part of.

Only in his dreams was the world so perfect and content…

~*~End~*~