As I said before this is the original, angsty ending. The beginning of the chapter is on the previous page.

Please: For the sake of the author, if you make a request with a specific outcome in mind, let us know before we start a fic. Authors who take requests do so because we are happy someone likes our work, and because we want to make our audience happy. It's hard to do that if we don't know what you want, and even harder when we start something with our own ideas in mind. (Basically, if the happy ending wasn't as well done, I'm sorry, I already had this written!).

I hope you all like it either way- and I'm so happy I got to take on this project!

Ending 2: Angst

There was a pause in which Hiei looked for answers, for hidden meaning in his words, but there was none to find. The end came with a swift blow, one that he could not have prepared himself for if he'd seen it coming.

"You're not the only one I'm leaving behind."

And there it was, the difference in their feelings. He had always known, somewhere deep within him, that the other would not grow to share in his predilection, but it crushed him nonetheless. The air in his lungs refused to return as Yusuke refused to meet his eyes, focused on a spot on the stained carpet that held sudden intrigue to him. The hi youkai could only stare, dumbfounded and hurt as the finality of that statement became clear. He was not the one the detective loved. That place was held by another.

He didn't fight it; even if he had wanted to there was nothing that he could do. Their entire tryst had been just that: a heat of the moment romance spurred on by nothing more than desire. He couldn't even call it romance; they had never done anything outside of the walls of that small, dingy room. With a twang of pain, the fire demon faced a possibility that he had not seen before.

It had been an experiment, all of it. It had been a way for the detective to test his boundaries, to define what he thought of as human and what he thought of as demon. It had been a sick test of what it meant to be a Mazoku, of what it meant to hold such desire. Hiei had only been a pawn, a safe bet through which the other could pour all of his frustration and confusion over his new demonic self, free from worry. It had been a measure in security that he had chosen Hiei, a convenient coincidence that it was then that the fire demon realized his feelings and decided to do something about it. For all he knew, it could have just as easily been Kurama.

The whole thing suddenly felt painfully orchestrated.

He had fled after that, not bothering to gather up the rest of his clothes after slipping into his loose pants and collecting his sword. There was no point, really. What were materialistic belongings when you didn't possess a heart? It was all he could do not to kill someone, not to take his anger and hurt out on the entire human population for the selfish deeds of one man. Of one half breed.

Perhaps this is what it meant to be part demon.

There was only one place he could go, after facing such foreign suffering. He showed up late, for lack of what else to do, his confinement to Ningenkai never having felt so incredibly suffocating before. For the first time since he could remember, the window was locked when he knocked, a testament perhaps to how long it had been since he'd paid his friend a proper visit. It opened quickly enough, the owner of the room rushing to be of service as soon as he saw the look the fire demon wore. Hiei wanted to be furious at him, both at the fact that he had been correct and that he looked unfazed even though no words had been spoken, but found himself too emotionally exhausted.

Kurama could only watch as Hiei stood in the center of the room, half dressed, his arms crossed over his chest as if he were holding himself. He didn't look at the redhead, his eyes darting around the floor as he tried to find something to hold his attention, but being too trapped in the presence of his mind to do so effectively. They stayed like that, one looking for something in the other's demeanor and the other trying desperately to find something to ground him, before Kurama took a careful step forward.

"You understand now, don't you?" The fox didn't falter as he was met with a fiery glare, one that he knew could not be used to hurt him. "That he's not the one you love."

Hiei almost stepped back, finding the other's words and movement and the mere look of him suddenly overwhelming. Why had he come here? Gloating fox. Insufferable bastard. There was something in his eyes, though, that spoke of more than victory.

Something was about to happen, something in him was on the verge of snapping, and Kurama was walking a very, very thin line. He bit his lip, a sharp fang breaking skin as he did. His arms were shaking with the force that he gripped them. Slowly but surely, the kitsune was moving into view. Overcome, he tunnelvisioned.

"Hiei," the fox pleaded, reaching out to lift the other's chin but stopping, settling on ghosting his fingers over the other's neck instead. It earned him a shiver. In that one moment, nothing was clear anymore. "This isn't love. This is torture."

And then the fox made his mistake, as far as Hiei was concerned, in leaning down to press a chaste kiss against bloodied lips.

The moment he snapped was a blur to the fire demon. One moment he was trembling, attempting to stand as still as he could while the redhead became everything he could see, and the next the plant wielder had been thrown against the wall, sinking down onto the bed and leaving a bloody smear as he went. There was a dizzying flurry in which the other's clothes were ripped from his slackening body, Hiei's pants going along with them, and then suddenly he felt body heat.

There was violence, but it was allowed freely. Kurama didn't fight as Hiei lashed out, returning each gruesome bite with a bruising kiss, turning every twist of his arm into an intertwining of fingers. When Hiei pushed into him he screamed, but it was more out of shock than anything, his arousal as obvious as Hiei's. There was none of the gentleness that Hiei felt victim to, none of the pity or the shame, just pure anger and desire. Kurama took it all, urging him on, begging for more despite the rough treatment. This, he whispered, low and broken, was love.

It wasn't until afterward, when Hiei had found his release and his anger had dissipated, when he looked down at the beautiful body that he had maimed, the blood and bruises that were enough to make even him cringe that he thought about his feelings. That he even considered, for a moment, that perhaps Kurama had been right, and he had been incredibly stupid. He looked at Kurama, who had long since passed out from the force and intensity, and questioned why he had never seen it before.

And Hiei wondered how long he had survived without knowing what it was like to be inside him.

Thanks for reading and even more thanks to those who wished me luck on my exams (they're finally over, cries). I'd like to apologize if the sex was gratuitous in this story, I honestly don't know where the inspiration came from but it happened and I can't take it back. Nice reviews make me smile!