Title: The More Things Change
Rating: T. Just a swear word or two and some implications.
Summary: Moments in the very long love life of a fox. Oneshot. Youko KuramaxYomi, KuronuexYouko Kurama, KuramaxShizuru.
Disclaimer: Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji Television, Studio Pierrot and Funimation own the rights, not me.
AN: This is a pretty unimaginative storyline and I wouldn't be surprised if it's been done before (I haven't read YYH fanfiction in years), but it was a theme I wanted to run with and YYH seemed to fit the idea.
Watch out for deliberate vagueness and a shifting POV.
***
Thinking about it, he had known the goat longer than he had known his own family. Then again, that was hardly an accomplishment, considering Kurama's early family life. At least, the small part he could remember of it.
But getting back to the subject at hand, they knew everything about each other by now, he was certain of that. Kurama knew about the scar behind Yomi's left knee, the one they had gotten on their second heist when running away from that angry youkai merchant (and that would be one day he would remember fondly for many years to come, most vividly when he felt that hunter's bullet rip through him). Yomi knew about that special spot behind Kurama's left ear, the one that made his leg twitch when you scratched it even if he would never admit it (and his second in command had threatened, or was that teased?, a handful of times to tell the rest of the men about that; the response was always a smack on the head).
By now, Kurama knew he probably considered Yomi his closest friend, and the closest he had ever come to a real lover. Or maybe the impetuous bastard had been promoted to lover by now, not that the young silver youko would have been able to tell the difference based on past experience. Kurama had one night stands, not deep and emotional attachments, but he also had an idea that sleeping with Yomi felt different. Yomi had always felt different, even if it was another thing he would never admit.
Which was what made what had to be done, and what was going to be done tomorrow (he had already paid the man, there was no stopping it), harder than he thought it would be.
They watched each other warily, their breaths coming out in puffs of smoke on that cold winter in the dead of night.
His goat leaned in, claiming a tender kiss from a decidedly untender youko.
"One day, Kurama," he whispered, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, even if they were completely alone under the canopy of barren trees, "we'll have a kingdom of our own, you and me. Just watch, we'll make it happen together."
Kurama frowned, his long silver hair glistening in a sliver of moonlight.
***
Kurama frowned, his long silver hair glistening in a sliver of moonlight.
"Enjoy it while you still can, that's the last time you're getting anywhere near my ass." A perfectly fine spring morning was going to be happening in two hours and Kurama was stuck inside buck naked and belly down on a rickety old bed in the back of a seedy tavern. His tail plumed above him like a puff of smoke, twitching every so often to noises from the room upstairs.
"Don't look so pissed off, you grump. It sounded like you were having fun last night." He poked Kurama's bared butt to make his point.
Kurama winced, tossing over a withering glare. Amber eyes narrowed to slits.
"Kuronue, I swear to whatever god is paying attention at the moment, when I can sit up again, I'll fucking kill you."
Kuronue just smirked, bending down to steal a kiss. Kurama turned his head to the side, being stubborn as usual.
"You wouldn't kill me. When I'm gone, who's going to make you scream like that?"
That frown deepened. "Don't get any ideas just because you're the only demon I've let screw me so far," Kurama sniffed. His nose went in the air in a way he probably didn't intend to be somewhat cute. Like a petulant child, as always, as he probably ever would be knowing him. "There's always someone else willing to take your place."
The bat lifted a gentle hand and stroked his love's hair fondly. And his love, despite himself, leaned into the caressing hand.
He had been the one to overcome the proud youko. It was time to enjoy the spoils of victory.
Lowering himself down to the bed, he nuzzled the silvery pale territory he had rightfully conquered.
"How much do you love me, Kurama."
***
"How much do you love me, Kurama?"
The question was asked in deadpan around a smoldering Lucky Strike.
Kurama looked over, tearing his eyes away from a gull lazily wheeling over the water. Shizuru, as usual, was unreadable, always her detached, blasé self. "Why do you ask?" he teased. "Are you feeling insecure?"
That just earned him a glare. It reminded him of someone he had known a very long time ago.
"It's an honest question. You've been a youko for a long time, who knows how many other girls you've smooth talked."
A puff of smoke floated out over a small rocky beach, carried by a warmed breeze. It was far enough from summer to bring lightweight jackets, close enough to summer to lay those jackets off to the side.
An old brown loafer on a restless foot kicked at the side of the concrete barrier wall they were sitting on, the long wall that followed the road along the coast. Kurama had meant to drive the two of them out to a bayside restaurant after work, but for some reason, they had ended up here instead. Not that either of them minded. It was cheaper this way, and with Kurama saving up for an apartment and Shizuru not finding much money in freelance psychic investigation and waitressing at the moment, it was probably for the best.
A chuckle bubbled up in him. It felt good. "And none of them have been a thing like you, Shizuru, I can guarantee that." It was true, what he was saying. He wasn't the youko he had been before, just like she wasn't some random girl on his path to gold and glory. Now he just had to get her to see that.
Shizuru glanced back, a wry note finally breaking through her voice. "If I'm not like the other girls, you can't just turn those big, green puppy dog eyes on and expect me to fall at your feet with all your sweet nothings. So don't try it."
What he had said before was definitely true, she had just proved it for him. His Shizuru was the first woman he'd met who was entirely impervious to the charm he'd always been told he had.
His Shizuru. It felt good to think that, even if it wasn't true and never would be true, even if they stayed together for the rest of his human lifespan. She just wasn't that kind of woman, but then again, he'd known that from the beginning. He could say for certain that was why he loved her.
She sighed, but it was a sigh of affection rather than resignation, at least he hoped. "You're a complicated guy, Kurama, you and your baggage. I must have been insane to think this was a good idea."
He turned his head. She sat there, eyes narrowed in thought, cigarette firmly lodged between lips beginning to turn up into a hint of a smile, in a loose pink t-shirt that matched the sky.
She looked so beautiful in the setting sunlight. He wanted to kiss her.
AN2: This, at least the third part, was actually inspired by an offhand comment. Ages ago, I heard a guy say that he would not want to be with a girl who had had a large number of boyfriends in the past. When asked why, he said it was because whenever she'd say, "I love you always," he'd wonder how many other guys she had said that to before him. When she would say that to him, would it just be a lie like all the other times? It made me think of Kurama and his ridiculous lifespan. He's been around longer than most countries, how much baggage do you think he's carrying around?
Also, I think I need a beta.