(Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television; nor do I own 'The Dance' written by Tony Arata and performed by Garth Brooks.)

A/N: This is not a songfic, though the lyrics will be used to open certain chapters as this fic was somewhat inspired the song itself. Also, please note that there is a bit of lime in this first chapter. As well, this story is Yaoi, meaning male/male love, with lemon in later chapters and a reference to male pregnancy. If you are uncomfortable with ANY of this, please stop reading now and leave. Thank you.

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Prologue

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars alone
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye

He remembered the sweet perfume of roses and the scent of warm, spring earth. He remembered a black velvet sky strewn with the diamond brightness of ten thousand stars. He remembered a soft, red silk mane splayed upon black satin, and alabaster flesh kissed by the full moon that had shone in through the window that night. And he remembered the smoothness of that flesh, and how the lithe body below him melded so flawlessly with his own as he took the gift of the fox's human virginity that Kurama had offered.

He remembered, too, wide, forest-green eyes filled with passion… and something more. Kiss swollen lips and a gentle tenor voice that whispered breathlessly, "Hiei, ai shiteru… ai shiteru…" over and over as their passion climaxed, their union consummated.

Perhaps it was those words, or perhaps it was his own feelings; feelings that not only confused, but above all, frightened him, that led the small fire demon to wait until his lover was sated and asleep before he dressed, and with a last look at the fox, fled into the night.

He had gone back to the safety and familiarity of the Makai – the only place he felt one such as he belonged – determined to rid himself not only of his feelings for the fox but to forget the love Kurama had confessed to him that night as well. He'd tried to deny that confession, reasoning that Kurama was a youko, a race well known for their craft and deceit. They would do anything; say anything to get what they wanted, so it would have been easy for the fox to profess his non-existent love to Hiei if that profession was enough to seduce the hiyoukai to his bed.

And his own feelings for the fox? Che! They were nothing more than a weakness; a liability and distraction he could not afford. Or so the small demon had tried to convince himself.

Yet in the three years since his return, his efforts had proved fruitless. No amount of Mukuro's training or patrolling her borders had yet to erase the feelings he'd tried so hard to subjugate. And the endless nights spent without sleep, those three small words, reverently whispered in the fox's tender voice, forever echoing in his thoughts, had only served to make clear one irrefutable fact: Kurama loved him, and he loved the fox as well.