The End of the Affair
A/N: Youko/Karasu is such a delicious aspect of the KxK relationship, especially when it's crack. All dialogue is taken from subtitles of the FUNimation DVD, with some tweaking.
Disclaimer: I do not own YYH, nor do I profit from fanfiction.
--
Youko smiled as he effortlessly dodged Karasu's trace-eye homing bombs. All of Minamino Shuiichi's fear had melted away. In fact, now that he was more than a match for Karasu's explosive attacks… Kurama found that he rather liked Karasu.
Honestly, Karasu was one of the better-looking youkai he'd seen in a while, and though he had to watch his step around the volatile crow, he enjoyed Karasu's dangerous aura. Youko loved that edge; he hadn't felt so alive in years.
Shuiichi didn't know how to have a good time. Youko, however, intended to enjoy this match to the fullest.
"Have you heard of the plant known as the Ojigi weed?" he asked, continuing to weave in midair around Karasu's bombs. "It's a perennial from South America, which reacts to vibrations, to being touched, or to flammables by closing its leaves."
His eyes lit up as he talked. He shared a true affinity with his plants: they weren't just weapons for him, but an entire way of life. Karasu had shared his passion (for killing and for Kurama himself), and now it was Kurama's turn. That was what usually happened in courtships, after all; sharing interests and getting to know the other person. Their flirtatious attempts to kill each other only added to the fun.
"The Ojigi weed of Makai is rather aggressive," he went on, his voice trembling with poorly suppressed excitement. It had been a long time since he'd had such a hard time controlling himself, but he knew Karasu had the same difficulty with his urges—after all, he hadn't been able to keep his hands off Kurama the first time they met. He and Karasu were so much alike, Kurama thought complacently, that it was a pity Shuiichi was too small-minded and fearful to appreciate their compatibility.
"It goes after anything that moves or is laden with flammables on its own…" Kurama was getting quite carried away, lost as he was in heady thoughts of ensnaring Karasu in the pliant stems of the Ojigi weed, teasing him with leaves that alternated feather-light caresses with emissions of flesh-eating acid, making him scream...
But Karasu unexpectedly put a stop to Kurama's pleasant fantasies. For Karasu, far from being inflamed by Kurama's impassioned botany lecture, had quickly grown bored. His interest had wilted (in more ways than one). Those elegant features, which had glowed with bloodlust—and plain lust—turned cold, while his violet eyes narrowed. Under the mask, his lips curled into a sneer.
"I have no interest in gardening."
Kurama's lower lip trembled.
Karasu was going down.