Passing Acquaintances

Notes: Hugs and cuddles to those who have reviewed so far.
I will update. I promise. Editing is really time-consuming.
On a different note, I would like to make a speech.*clears throat* Canonically, Hiei and Kurama are just good friends. However, this is a *points in upper left hand corner* fanfiction. And frankly, I can make them do and feel whatever I damn well want.
Kurama: *sweatdrops* You're evil.
IR: Don't I know it. I've got plans to take over the world. Wanna see?
Hiei: . . . yes.

* * *

Kurama was exhausted. They had spent the better part of the night scouring the Makai, and the responsibility of leading the two humans through it was suddenly twice as difficult, without the red-eyed fire demon beside him. Of course, their search served a double purpose. Wherever the demon who had attacked Yukina was, Hiei was sure to be. Unfortunately, Kurama hadn't the advantage of a third eye with uncharted psychic powers; all he had to work with was pure instinct. And right now, that instinct was failing him. It was as if his vengeful friend had disappeared entirely.

He honestly couldn't blame Hiei for wanting revenge; he just disapproved of the way he was going about it. To the untrained eye, Hiei's fighting style and his were exact opposites. Kurama's preferred approach was a careful and calculated one, often involving setting intricate and deadly traps for his opponent. Hiei's approach appeared to lack strategy. Rush in, weapon swinging, no holds barred; though Kurama knew from experience that very little about Hiei could be taken at face value. The Forbidden Child wasn't a contradiction; puzzles are never inconsistent. The pieces fit . . . somehow. Kurama had thought several times he'd been close to solving that puzzle, only to find something essential missing. Hiei was hardly predictable, but ultimately, Kurama thought he could estimate his actions better than almost anyone. That didn't stop him from worrying. He could have at least asked for help. But then again, he knew exactly why he didn't ask for help. Dependence, however fleeting, wasn't something Hiei would be drawn into without a great deal of kicking and screaming.

Kurama's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flash of lightning, followed by the heavy rumble of not-so-distant thunder.

"Kurama," Yusuke called, "can you sense anything?"

He hesitated, stretching his senses, and found nothing. "No," he admitted, glancing at the sky, which looked as if it were about to open up at any given second. He looked at his companions, who looked as muddy and exhausted as he felt, scratched by the many Makai plants they had scuffled with in their search through the forest.

"We can't do anything more tonight," Yusuke said, voicing Kurama's thoughts. "The best thing to do is to go back home and get some sleep."

Kurama nodded in agreement. But vague doubts gnawed at his stomach; where was Hiei that he couldn't sense him at all?

When they arrived back in the Ningenkai, they were unpleasantly surprised that it still was raining there, too.

"Well, isn't that depressing?" Yusuke commented, as they stood in the orange glow of a streetlight, preparing to go their separate ways. "I'm going home. I suggest you guys do the same."

"I'm staying at Genkai's," Kuwabara said, his tone seeming to dare Yusuke to say anything about it. Surprisingly enough, the spirit detective just gave him an understanding look, nodding once before walking away.

It was the middle of the night when Kurama was wrenched awake from a deep, dreamless sleep. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, trying to get his bearings. Hiei . . . his ki couldn't be mistaken.

Kurama found him on the slumped on the ground directly below the third story window of his apartment. His breathing was shallow, and the wards on his right arm were charred and torn. But his eyes didn't close until the touch of Kurama's hand promised his protection.

* * *

For the sixth time in the past four hours, Kurama considered investing in another clock. Funny how something that had never bothered him before became something completely intolerable. Was it really necessary for it to mark every second that went past so damn loudly?

Perhaps it was just that was marking the seconds before Hiei, who was sleeping quietly in the kitsune's bed, woke up. Kurama had seen the aftereffects of Hiei's most powerful attack, but it was never quite like this. An expert healer he was not, but he was certain that his state was not a good sign. When Kurama had taken him out of the rain, it seemed the koorime had barely had the energy to draw a breath.

Kurama was reminded of himself by a quiet stirring, which was obviously deliberate. He turned and met a silent ruby gaze of unusual intensity. Their gazes locked and they stared, in complete silence, for a long time. When the silence became unbearable, the tick of the clock almost deafening, Kurama cleared his throat and stated the painfully obvious.

"You're awake."

Hiei made a soft, neutral sound in the back of his throat, eyes never leaving Kurama. A million questions were burning on the youko's lips, most of which Hiei probably wouldn't answer. If he had indeed unleashed his dragon, how had he managed to make it to his apartment? He usually hadn't the energy to do much but find a safe place to crash. And why come to him in particular? Not that he especially minded.

Restless and unnerved by the fire demon's silent gaze, Kurama got up from his perch on the desk and came a little closer. He moved slowly, as though approaching a skittish animal.

"Are you alright?" he ventured.

"You should know, Kurama. You healed me."

The kitsune sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "That's not what I meant."

Those ruby eyes looked conflicted for a second before hardening again, and silence reigned once more. Usually their silences were of a comfortable nature, but this one was making the kitsune inexplicably nervous. Perhaps it was the way the fire demon was staring at him; his eyes were far from cold, but Kurama thought he recognized that calculating look. Now, if he could only put his finger on it . . . .

The shock left Kurama's head spinning when he found himself flat on his back, with a lapful of suddenly determined-looking fire demon. Hiei certainly didn't look heavy, but hard muscle and a sturdy frame accounted for more weight than Kurama had imagined. He was rather effectively pinned beneath that solid body, unable to move. His eyes opened wide when Hiei's mouth, awkward but demanding, closed on his. Eyes closed tightly, the little youkai probed gently between Kurama's lips with his tongue, seeking surrender. Closing his eyes and opening his mouth to the fire demon, Kurama acknowledged his submission even before Hiei did. Having realized that Kurama wouldn't fight him, Hiei wasted no time acknowledging his victory. Whatever buttons the kitsune had been wearing clattered somewhere on the opposite side of the room, having been efficiently snapped off. A soft noise escaped Kurama's lips as Hiei ran a slightly exposed fang along the nape of his neck, lightly teasing the soft and sensitive skin there.

Afterwards, lying boneless and exhausted beside Hiei, he felt that needs had been satisfied he hadn't even been aware of having.

When morning came, he woke alone, to the sound of the rain beating on his window. He rolled onto his side and tried not to think about what had happened. Of course, the silent implication was clear. As far as either of them were to be concerned, it hadn't happened. He promptly stifled his first reaction and reasoned that it was probably for the best. Yes, he could probably manage to convince himself of that. It had been help in a moment of weakness, never to be spoken of again. It was nothing more, nothing less, and rest assured it was the first and last time.

Cursing softly, throat dry, he struggled to sit up. He winced as vertigo hit him like a blow, making his head spin. When his vision finally cleared, he tried to focus on the clock, making several attempts before realizing he was already late for his lunch date with Shiori. He rolled out of bed, and immediately toppled to the floor.

* * *

"Shuuichi!" a soft voice called.

Turning around, he smiled his brightest smile and savored the little rush of warmth that came with seeing his mother's face. Shaking off his umbrella, he made his way to the table Shori was sitting at, calmly sipping her tea. The café was mostly empty, most likely because of the near-torrential rain that hadn't yet shown signs of stopping.

"You're late," she observed as he sat down, without a hint of reproach in her voice.

"Sorry," he replied, without a hint of remorse.

Her critical eye didn't miss the circles under his eyes, or the slight droop of his shoulders. "Oh, my, Shuuichi, you look tired," she said, voice tinged with concern. "Have you been working yourself too much again?"

"No, not really. I just . . . had a rough night." Well, it was the truth . . . part of it, at least.

She didn't look convinced, but she let it go, something he was infinitely grateful for. "I knew as soon as you moved out you would stop taking care of yourself," she scolded. "Next thing you know, you'll be moving back, claiming you've forgotten how to cook."

Kurama laughed.

He managed to finish their lunch date, trying to respond normally despite the fact that he felt like his head would hit the table any given second. He didn't really remember making it back to his apartment after he kissed his mother lightly goodbye, but once inside, he didn't even make it to his bedroom. Good thing he had a couch.

He woke to a loud ringing noise. What could have possessed him to set his alarm? But wait . . . he wasn't even in bed . . . . He flung his arm over in the general direction of the ringing, barely registering that it was the phone. Unable to reach it, he just lay there, arm outstretched, and listened as the answering machine picked up. His own voice sounded through the apartment.

"You have reached the residence of Minamino Shuuichi. I'm unable to answer the phone right now, so please leave your name and number and I will return your call at my earliest convenience." He chuckled a little. He'd always hated phones; they were little more than an irritating waste of time. It wasn't surprising that Hiei felt the same way.

He dimly heard a voice he thought he recognized as Yusuke's, but the voice on the other end of the line had barely made it through the first sentence before Kurama was again dead to the world.

* * *

He knew he was dreaming, because he was in his fox form. He was always in his fox form in his dreams, a quirk that dated back to when he was just a pup. Perhaps because it was the form in which he felt the most free. And now, flying through the forest, tails streaming out behind him, the feeling was strong. It was night, and the damp clung to his fur. There was one difference, in the dream. He was not alone. It appeared he was, but he soon detected a shadow matching his every step. He wasn't too alarmed. A hunter wouldn't run alongside him; it had to be a companion. A swift one at that; it was rare someone had to stop occasionally for him to catch up. They were headed somewhere; where he didn't know. But he didn't much care, with the wind in his fur, the night stretching before them. That is, until they stopped.

Hearing a hiss of pain, he examined his friend more closely now that he was more than a blur in the trees. He was . . . hurt. Kurama whined softly, sitting back on his haunches. After a few tense moments, he ventured to approach slowly, but was suddenly thrown back by a sharp cuff on the ear.

"I don't need your help," came the cold and familiar voice.

And then he was truly alone.

He surfaced to a warm pressure against his lips, the sensation strangely out-of-odds with the cold feeling as he'd watched his best friend walk away. But that had only been a dream, hadn't it? Hiei was here, now, and it was so much easier to just forget the uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong, even if he didn't know what it was. It was so much easier to surrender, than demand explanation.

* * *

When he woke next, he found himself in his bed again. Confused, he tried to focus on the clock and failed. He was sure he would have remembered getting up and going to bed, but all he seemed to remember was Hiei's touch. Everything else faded into the background, as reality sometimes blurred so it was hard to distinguish from a dream.

For so long, his only awareness was of the rain, a quiet voice, the way his back ached, most likely from lying on the couch for so long. It appeared this was a rare moment of lucidity. He didn't know how long he'd been in that half-conscious state, whether it was minutes, hours, or weeks.

A tantalizing smell teased his senses briefly, and he turned his head into the pillow beside him, searching out the elusive scent. It was only vaguely identifiable; the smell of a burning match, of a candle-flame after it had been blown out. It was a familiar smell. Suddenly the scent went from merely teasing to overflowing his senses, and he felt the fire-demon's equally familiar ki, though he couldn't seem to focus on it. He dimly remembered that he was ought to be saying something; responding, protesting, anything but just lying there. This was hurting him, and he needed to say . . . wanted to stop . . . .

Hiei leaned all the way over and buried his face in the nape of the kitsune's neck. Then he whispered something behind his ear, a ghost of a breath against heated skin.

I'm sorry.

So Kurama lost himself in the now-familiar touch until it was gone, and a very different voice whispered in his ear.

"I'm going to enjoy making him watch you suffer."

* * *

I'll give you two guesses as to what's really going on, and the first one doesn't count. It's probably really obvious. I have been told, after all, that my storylines are really, really simple. ^_^;;
Compliment? Well . . . in an backhanded sort of way . . . ^_~

Writing this chapter gave the expression 'like pulling teeth' a new world of meaning to me. If you can figure out why, then . . . well, you're way ahead of me.