Hello! This is a response to a request for a Yusuke/Kurama fic, my very first, so I hope you all enjoy. A big shout out to the requestee: I love and appreciate anyone who is willing to ask for fics!
This is actually one of my favorites on here. No clue why (as Y/K is not my otp) but I just think it works in this one. So yea, don't be afraid to pm me with your requests, because occasionally they turn out like this :)
Disclaimer: I do not own YYH, Yoshihiro Togashi is the mastermind behind this one folks!
He tried to think of it as inevitable. At least that way he couldn't take on all the blame. If it was just going to happen anyway. If it were only a matter of time before they caved when their lives crumbled. The walls were bound to come down eventually, when one of them slipped up and found themselves with each other. Except that Kurama had hoped with all of his being that it could be avoided- the inciting incident. For everything that followed, he would take accountability.
He should have been able to hold it in, to shove the words back down his throat before they escaped his shaking lips, but he had been too hurt and tired and angry to keep himself in check. To keep from letting years worth of secrets and longing and frustration from coming through in that one sentence. It all had, though, and worse yet he knew it had been understood.
As soon as the words left his lips, he knew that it was all over. The mask had fallen. For that one, brief moment that he was granted his mind scrambled. Then, without blinking, the owner of red eyes left his perch on the windowsill. It was seconds before his energy vanished, seconds before the former thief fell to his knees, a soundless sob echoing in his shattering core as he curled in on himself.
Then there was the mission. It had been a cruel joke of fate, really, to put them in close contact for days on end- or at least that was what Koenma had intended when he sent them off. No one had guessed that their fiery companion would refuse to be in the same room as the plant wielder, let alone work with him. No one except for the object of his distaste. He didn't manage to hide his crushed features when the fire demon announced that as long as Kurama was there, he would have nothing to do with their team.
He didn't even have a response to the challenge in those vermillion eyes, the way they begged him to fight back, to call his decision ludicrous, anything except stand back in pained silence. Oh, how the stalemate had somehow shifted between those words and that silence. How embedded in resignation he had to be not to see it.
"We'll be just fine without you," Yusuke had said, putting his hand on the kitsune's shoulder, grounding him. The fire demon found himself at odds with ice. But with that hand the redhead's silent introspection was cut short and he gazed at the detective with weary eyes open and thankful, albeit confused.
Blinded by the detective, he did not see the pain flash through Hiei's eyes before he made a quick retreat.
The remaining two stayed as they were for a moment, Yusuke's brow furrowed in clear anger as he waited for the energy signature of their foolhardy teammate to disappear into the ether. It was then another moment before he turned to the kitsune, who had let the contact linger far longer than either of them were familiar with. There was a shared look, soft and comforting, before the former thief pulled away abruptly, turning his back to the teen and signaling that they had better get to work.
Like he always did when Kurama lead, Yusuke followed.
The mission itself was not overly difficult, but it did take time and careful planning. Without having to say so, both fighters were glad to be in the company of only each other, as a third member would have no doubt made all the waiting involved unbearable. Missions like this were rare, with just the tactician and the frontman, but they passed easily into comfortable silences and, when need be, fighting style. They were never as in sync as the two demons, but Kurama found it refreshing to be around the detective, who threw his everything into their collaboration, even when he complained.
The days that passed as they worked to overthrow a small hoard of demons went by without much fanfare. By the fourth day they had pinpointed the enemy's most vulnerable area, and by the fifth they had taken advantage of it. Both had come out of the tousle with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises, though Kurama couldn't help but admit he had let a few hits land that shouldn't have. It didn't slip past Yusuke's attention; he had hoped that a good old fashioned fight would have snapped his friend out of his internal haze, but even as the smoke cleared and they made their way back into the familiarity of the living world he found him overly distracted.
The duo returned to Yusuke's apartment, their base of operations. Shuichi wasn't expected home for another day, not that he would return looking the way he did, all bruised and bloody, and Atsuko was out of town until the end of the week. For that the detective was grateful; he would've been mortified to have to explain to his mother why he had let his "pretty friend" get so mussed up. Not that he could blame her for her teasing; for some reason when the fox's waiflike looks were pointed out he found himself uncommonly on the defensive. It couldn't be helped, not when red hair begged for fingers to run through it, or when quaking lips left seeming words unspoken. He was having more and more trouble shaking the thoughts away with Kurama in rare form, sulking openly. It was in Yusuke's nature to want to comfort him, but he had kept his distance, worried at what might come out of it. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of the fox's vulnerability, especially since he seemed incapable of hiding it.
His worry was only heightened with the fox's refusal to tend to his own wounds, despite their superficiality. It was unnerving, watching as he sat staring out the window, soft patches of blood seeping through his light clothing. His expression had not changed much over the past few days, somehow both expectant and dismayed at the same time. They had been lucky, the detective couldn't help but think, that the mission had gone so smoothly with just the two of them, seeing as Hiei hadn't swooped in at the last moment to save them as usual. The stretch of his absence had fallen over the kitsune like a dark curtain. Yusuke was determined to lift it.
He couldn't deny how strange it felt to be in the position of the healer-not that he truly had any skills. Still he knelt at his friend's feet, wet cloth in hand, to dab at the open wounds on his arms. The kitsune momentarily snapped back to the bedroom in which they sat, catching the detective's eyes with a raised eyebrow. Yusuke held his gaze while he worked, unconsciously rubbing small circles into the wrist in his hand. The redhead let him, but did turn away before speaking, as if unbothered by their reversal in roles.
"Shouldn't you be getting on to the Yukimura's?" Yusuke's response was to push at Kurama's sleeve roughly, which was slipping down his arm. Though it couldn't have hurt much, the fox still grimaced, seeming more irritated than he normally would at such a gesture. He even tried to pull his arm back, but the detective held fast, returning to his cleaning. The circles also started up after a minute of quiet.
"You're one of my best friends, Kurama," Yusuke said as he stood, the towel in his hand far too red and dirty to be of use as it was. "You should know that being with Keiko isn't something I can do right now." With that, he stalked out, the sound of running water echoing from the open bathroom door. The kitsune didn't look in his direction, knowing that he would return shortly and focused on what he had said. It was true; Yusuke had seemed distant toward his childhood sweetheart since first contact with his ancestor. The fox didn't know why this surprised him so much- finding out that there was demon within him was enough to have to wrap his head around, let alone having been body snatched during his fight with Sensui. Of course he had been distant towards the girl, not knowing if at any moment he could hurt her. For all they knew, the change in him was enough to break their connection, though Kurama believed that Yusuke would acclimate to his new side with some time and training. Still, the thought of the detective distancing himself from his first love sent mixed emotions through the fox. Never had he seen fate tied so beautifully between humans, but it did offer possibilities to be exploited.
It was, by all accounts, the job of a brilliant tactician to weigh the possible benefits of a particular outcome. It didn't hurt that the ache in his chest dulled with the distraction.
Yusuke returned, fresh cloth in hand, breaking the kitsune's silent analysis. Rather than immediately going to work on his other arm, which is what Kurama expected, he only stared frustratedly, earning a series of confused blinks in his direction.
"Tunic. Off." There was another second of silence. "Now." Yusuke said more sternly, intent on seeing action from his companion without having to further beat him to a pulp first.
It was slow, but Kurama moved, sliding his sleeves down his arms and pulling at them from behind. There was, Yusuke noted, a rather large scrape across his collarbone. It was shallow, but if his memory served correctly he had also fallen on it during the scuffle. The inciting blow had been forceful, and the kitsune had been dragged for a distance, covering the surrounding skin with angry burns and coating the torn dermis with dirt. No doubt it pained him to move his arm. Watching the effort that he was taking not to ruffle the undershirt which had started to fuse with broken skin, the brown haired teen's unbidden frustration melted away. There was no reason to be upset with him in the first place- especially since he was only upset since Kurama was upset. The whole thing suddenly seemed childish.
Once the tunic had been removed, which had been equally as exhausting to do as to watch, the kitsune paused, only to be stared at. He didn't wait for the silence to become unbearable, instead sighing exasperatedly to signal his compliance. Yusuke still didn't move, just looked at him concernedly.
"We should tend to that before it gets worse. I'll help you get the shirt off slowly, okay?" He moved to sit on the bed next to the redhead, not quite sure how best to begin.
"Yusuke, I am a fully grown adult," Kurama began, his tone asinine at first, but losing its edge as soon as he found it. "I do not need to be coddled." The detective grinned at him, swallowing a joke about how that sounded like something Hiei would say. The timing just wasn't right.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not coddling you. Consider it a poor attempt at payback for all the times I've woken up healed at your place." His hands found the edge of the blood splattered shirt, but wavered. "Just tell me what to do okay?" The kitsune nodded, leaning back with both hands behind him for support, arching slightly. He motioned at the wet cloth with his head, raising his knees and spreading his legs to give the detective better access to the site. Yusuke swallowed, scooting closer, a mix of anticipation and worry and something that he knew should not have been feeling passing through him all at once.
"Try and soak around the wound. It should help separate the fibers from it, but you'll have to go very slowly." There was a hint of a smile in his voice, and it sent the detective aflutter. "I'm not quite sure where I end and cloth begins, I'm afraid."
"Yeah, well you never do take your clothes off, so that's not surprising." He had meant for it to come off with his usual trademark grin, but the comment ended up sounding forced somehow. Thinking about his words had made him hesitate again, and he pulled back a bit to meet the kitsune's eye with apprehension. "Are you okay with this? I mean, with me undressing you and all else?" The response he received was laughter, and though it wasn't what he had expected he did find it a relief to know that he could lighten the other's mood, even if only a little.
"Relax, Yusuke. I'm no maiden being disrobed by a villain. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation as to your lack of seeing me undressed." The detective took this for permission, raising the hem of the shirt to test the boundaries of the wound and see how far it had stuck. It was a full minute before he realized that while yes, Kurama was right, he didn't leave out the possibility that he had orchestrated his constant clothed-ness. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the revelation, earning a snicker from the redhead in question. Without further procrastination, Yusuke gently pressed the towel to the edge of the wound.
Kurama hissed quietly, his face scrunching up slightly as the detective dabbed, seemingly lost in his work. In truth he was desperately trying to focus on his task, but it seemed so much harder with an unobstructed view of his partner's pale torso rising and falling evenly, hitching ever so slightly when Yusuke pressed the towel to him. He worked from the bottom of the wound to the top, boldly resting his hand on the kitsune's bare chest when he wasn't using it to try and peel the article from him centimeter by centimeter. It was a painfully slow task, or at least it felt that way, what with Kurama's gentle but pronounced breathing, the heat of his skin, the caution that the detective displayed in tending to him. Their focus was solely on each other, something that neither of them was used to. The air between them seemed unusually thick, though Yusuke couldn't figure out if it was tension, awkwardness, or something else. He didn't try to decipher it, his attention already split between not hurting the kitsune and admiring the way never seen muscles contoured his stomach.
After minutes that felt like hours, the detective began to pull the shirt from the redhead's torso without meeting overly painful resistance. In truth, he knew that Kurama could handle the pain. Maybe he was coddling him but it only seemed natural, the protectiveness he felt in tending to the other's wounds. That thought was pushed aside with a swell of pride as the two separated, a line of contaminated water running down the kitsune's chest from the saturated cloth. The teen couldn't help but grin triumphantly as he lifted the shirt to the fox's neckline, exposing most of the rest of him and what remained of his wounds.
"Well what do you know –"
The detective found himself cut off as he lifted his head from his somewhat crouched position to find himself nose to nose with the kitsune. Soft, warm breath blew over his face as he realized their proximity, the hand that had been holding the other's shirt up now pinning it gently in place. His eyes fluttered closed without his say so, overwhelmed by the sudden implication that lay between them. There was no room for thought of should or should not, the detective's nerves flooded with swallowed longing. How long it had been there, pushed back to the corners of his mind, he was unaware. The intensity that he felt it told him more than enough.
Neither of them was sure who moved first, or if they moved together, but suddenly the space between them was no more. The change had been subtle, but there was nothing to contest the slight, delicate touch of lips pressing against each other. Both fighters halted their breath, lingering in a space of paused time, barely touching. Their separation was just as modest, a slow parting that left their faces touching, eyes still closed. It was then that Kurama let out a trembling breath, and Yusuke took that as invitation enough to press their lips together again.
The tension in Kurama's shoulders began to melt away and he leaned further back, letting Yusuke rise to his knees and take his mouth from above. Though it was Yusuke that pressed forward, it was the fox who took the lead, languidly showing the detective that with his age came unparalleled skill. Each kiss melded into one another, and though neither could tell where one ended and the next began, both became more frenzied the longer they remained connected. Feeling blissfully suffocated, Yusuke broke away, his focus shifted to the wet, interfering article of clothing which he was still dutifully holding away from the kitsune's wound. Kurama took no time in figuring out his objective, lifting his arms over his head without prompting as the detective pulled, throwing the shirt into the corner of the room unceremoniously. The fox gave him no moment of reprieve, pulling him down by his own shirt so that he was straddling the redhead, who flopped gently against the bedspread. Their mouths connected again, but it was moments before the detective felt a tugging at his chest and pulled back.
"You too," Kurama's voice was husked and out of breath, making the detective want to groan at the sound of it. "Fair is fair, after all." Yusuke grinned wickedly, prolonging his strip tease to appreciate the rare sight in front of him.
Kurama was a mess. His hair was splayed out in all directions, one arm tossed over his head carelessly while the other lingered suggestively at his hipbones, tracing idly. Yusuke was almost shocked at how masculine he managed to look with half-lidded eyes and kiss bruised lips, but there was no denying it when his muscles tensed at each of his movements, a mixture of blood and dirt caking his skin from here to there. Even his face, which usually went untouched, had a feathering of debris. Then there was his smell, all sweat and iron from the numerous cuts, the scent of freshly cut grass hidden under the fight and arousal. Yusuke was tempted to lean down and lick clean his neck, itching for a taste of earth, but composed himself enough to rock their clothed hips together and smirk.
"If you think that's fair, then fine, but you're crazy. This is one hell of a treat." He watched as the kitsune fought the urge to stick out his tongue, then pulled his own shirt off, leaving it to join its ruined comrade on the floor. Kurama's lips parted as Yusuke leaned down again, but he teasingly pulled back before giving him the contact they both craved. Calloused fingers from years of fighting traced the outline of the burns on his chest, his other hand massaging around the kitsune's navel while he played.
"Should we take care of this first?" He was surprised when Kurama pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth, growling as he did.
"Perhaps you thought it was a request when I said not to coddle me, but it was a warning. One more time, Yusuke, and you'll find yourself underneath me instead." The detective shivered at the thought, taking the redhead's tongue into his mouth both to silence him and concede. The idea wasn't at all detestable, but he listened all the same, wondering just how far the kitsune was implying that they were going. There was no end in direct sight, not with a hand twisting forcefully in his dark hair, or the small nips that were being placed at the corner of his mouth, each of which he took as invitation to grind into him in an agonizing circle.
This time his action earned him a gasp, the fox beneath him pulling back to gain leverage on his neck. Yusuke's mental, self-important grin was immediately interrupted as Kurama took to gentle bites along his pulse, then over his jugular, soft enough to give the illusion of submission to an onlooker but forceful enough to make any coherent thought that the detective had fly far, far away.
Suddenly, the fact that both of them were still wearing some form of clothing became too much to handle. The detective had been toying with the button of Kurama's pants with no avail for some time, but his repeated failures had him pulling away almost desperately. Kurama gave a halfhearted chuckle, though by his face he was in just as much of a hurry to get them off. Yusuke took care of the fox first before retreating to the edge of the bed to rid himself of his jeans, a highly frustrating task. Once again, as he climbed over the plant wielder, he found himself in awe of his human appearance.
He broke from his appraisal as the kistune's shin met with his side unceremoniously. As hard as he tried to look miffed, Yusuke could have sworn that Kurama was blushing.
The next few minutes were pleasurably awkward, Yusuke being inexperienced in lovemaking and Kurama being uncharacteristically impatient. Where Yusuke asked for direction, Kurama sought quick release. When Yusuke tried to prepare him, Kurama answered with a nasty bite under his ear. Though neither was getting what they aimed for immediately, it took them both great efforts not to laugh at the other's persistence.
For a moment, they forgot that they had been abandoned.
Without warning or precedence they found their rhythm, losing the control they had that allowed their light banter and falling into a different level of communication. Yusuke had let his head fall into the crook of Kurama's neck, his eyes closed and face contorted in sensual agony as he moved, somehow managing to keep a steady pace without falling over the edge. Kurama had wrapped his legs tightly around the detective's waist, making sure that even when Yusuke sped up and lost his steady tempo that they were connected. The sounds that he was making were driving the detective crazy, each gasp, moan, and whisper of a language long lost adding fuel to a fire that was rapidly burning out. Even if there had been a way to prolong it, the pair found themselves drowning in the sensations that they inspired in each other, shutting out everything but the need and heat and desperation that had managed to build up until it all became too much.
It wasn't until Yusuke found himself so close to the edge that he was almost over it that he reached for the fox's arousal, trying to bring him to the same place at the same time. Kurama immediately went into overload, babbling a string of incoherent please and yes before his words were lost to Yusuke's tongue, which had found its way back to his mouth. The fox arched dangerously as they kissed, one hand pulling roughly at the detective's hair while the other fisted in the soiled bedspread, hips and body seizing in a frenzy. He whimpered as he came violently, all of his muscles tensing at once, though it didn't stop the teen above him from fucking his mouth and his center. He followed moments after, driven so wild by the tightening around him that he wasn't even sure he could stop, hips snapping, mouth moving, shooting indefinitely. When his final wave of orgasm hit, it was Yusuke's turn to cry out, as if pained by the singing of his nerves. Kurama was kissing him now- his lips, his cheeks, his eyes, anything that he thought would ground him as he held himself up on shaking arms, trying with a single scrap of awareness not to collapse on his comrade's injured chest. The fox helped as he could, guiding the detective onto his side so that they were lying face to face, though Yusuke hadn't managed to open his eyes yet. Brown irises peeked out when the redhead nuzzled his nose, closing again as they engaged in a long, slow kiss.
Neither of them spoke, too exhausted for words and truly not caring for them either way. Despite the fact that his wound had opened considerably, Kurama seemed happy to stay put, his breathing ragged as he sought out the detective's mouth with his own again and again until one of them lost consciousness, the fox tucked into the detective, the detective wrapped around the fox. Neither of them fought sleep, knowing that when they woke something would have changed. In any case, consequences were not meant to be dealt with in the waking hours of the morning.
Kurama was unsure of how much time passed before he found himself awake, alert for no apparent reason. Yusuke was still curled around him, his breathing even, sleep keeping him dead to the outside world. Carefully, so as not to wake him, the kitsune untangled their limbs, moving to the edge of the bed. With a last, light brush of the detective's hair, he sighed. How moments so peaceful always seemed to attract interruption.
Though he doubted it had woken him, his chest ached with the need for at least a proper cleaning, if not treatment. It took a bit of adjusting to the dark room to find the cloth that Yusuke had so haphazardly tossed aside, but find it he did. The kitsune stood slowly, listening to the creak of the bed as he moved and the soft pitter patter of a sprinkling rain outside. Still naked, he knelt in the center of the room, collecting the dirtied towel. It was not until he moved to stand that he noticed the third presence in the room, knowing then that it had been responsible for his awakening.
The slightest of breezes passed through the open window, sending a chill through the kitsune, though the cold was only a part of it. Red eyes and green were caught in a stalemate, Kurama not daring to stand or speak, waiting for a move that was not his. When it came, the illusion of contentment shattered unblinkingly.
Almost silently, the words which had so slyly escaped the fox slipped past the lips of their accidental audience.
"Even after all you've done, I hate myself for still loving you."
And he was gone, leaving the kitsune to tend to his wounds silently for fear of waking the detective.
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