"Since when am I a barber?"
"Shut up. You've got long hair, you know how to deal with it."
"But the point is to have it short again, yes?"
"Shut up."
Kurama shut up. Yusuke stalked along silently next to him, angry that he should have to spell out the real reason he wanted to go to Kurama's house and hide from everyone else--including Keiko, Keiko who was clinging to him like a child, Keiko whose energy suddenly felt so... wrong. It should be obvious to Kurama, and to Keiko too--hell, to anyone with a brain. There was only one person hanging around the city who'd ever made the transition between demon and human, and seeing as how it was a friend of his it would have been really stupid of Yusuke to not get all the advice he could, now. Before his head exploded.
Everything was different. Everything. Yusuke kept blinking and squinting because his eyesight had dimmed; he also kept taking large, deep breaths to smell all the million scents he'd never been aware of before. Before, when the change had actually occurred, he had been able to think of nothing but fighting Sensui; he hadn't even cared that his heart wasn't beating. Now, he could feel the emptiness in his chest keenly.
The smells were too distracting. He could smell not only himself and Kurama, but everyone they had touched in the last week, even past the scents of those they had just been with, and he could smell the detergent from Kurama's clothes and the seeds hidden in his hair. He could smell Kurama's blood and sweat and he could hear the absence of his heartbeat as well as he felt the lack of his own. And it was like a stranger was walking beside him.
And another stranger walking inside him.
Yusuke wouldn't have been surprised if Kurama had led him somewhere unknown, somewhere new and strange--he would have welcomed, in fact, the knowledge that he really had slipped into an alternate dimension. Kurama's house, with its welcome mat and the wind chimes by the door, was much too normal and too human to exist any longer. Yet here they were walking up the steps, Kurama remarking casually that his mother didn't appear to be home yet. Once they stepped inside, Yusuke stopped to concentrate on the new scent--overpoweringly normal, banal, safe. Bizarre.
"Go up to my room," Kurama prompted him softly. Yusuke jumped slightly, realizing he had been looking around with a mystified air, like he had never been in this house--no, in any human house before. "I don't want my mother to come home and find a tattooed ruffian getting a haircut in the kitchen."
Yusuke obediently went up the stairs, only then realizing how difficult it might be for Kurama to have Yusuke at his house, at this time of night, in this condition. But then again, Shiori knew Yusuke--he'd even spent the night here a few times when his mom was drinking too hard--but would Shiori recognize him, now? Probably not.
Kurama followed Yusuke after a moment, carrying a bar stool from the kitchen and a few towels. He quickly spread the towels out on the floor, and Yusuke didn't wait to be told before setting the stool on top of them and sitting down. Kurama retrieved a pair of scissors from his desk. "Are you sure about this?"
"What?"
"You don't seem to have thought about it much. I can't exactly glue it back on once it's gone."
"I'm sure," Yusuke said darkly. "It weighs like ten pounds." And it isn't mine.
"Alright." Without further preamble, Kurama gathered the thick mane into a ponytail with one hand and began snipping with the other. Yusuke waited to feel the relief that would come with having it gone--but though his head lightened considerably, the tension didn't lessen.
Kurama then began attacking his remaining hair with a brush. "Ow!" Yusuke squawked, trying to push him away. "What are you doing?"
"If I cut any more while it's all tangled like this it will turn out crooked. Now hold still and let me finish, because right now you look like a hedgehog on crack."
Yusuke burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he nearly fell off the stool; he laughed so hard it hurt and tears started streaming down his face, and he knew it hadn't been that funny but he couldn't stop. And then he wasn't really laughing anymore but he was still convulsing and the tears were still coming, but he wasn't really crying either. He was caught in between laughing and crying and he really wished he could stop, but he couldn't.
A glass of water materialized in front of him. Yusuke took it and managed to drink a few mouthfuls, and found that the act of swallowing cut through the convulsions. He focused on the water for a moment, until he had more or less gotten his breathing under control, before glancing up. Kurama was regarding him compassionately. Not the kind of look you gave a stranger, or someone untrustworthy--the kind you gave a friend. He's not the one acting weird, Yusuke realized. I am.
"Funny joke," Yusuke said weakly. His voice was hoarse.
"Not really. But I'm glad it broke the tension. You were about to go off like a stick of dynamite."
Now that Yusuke thought about it, he did feel much better from laughing. Shaky, but calmer and closer to normal. "Yeah, I guess so."
Kurama moved back behind Yusuke and started brushing his hair again, but this time he was gentler about it. "Now I know why you want it short," he commented. "Your hair's impossible."
Yusuke appreciated Kurama's attempt to lighten the mood, but it wasn't what he wanted. He was suddenly ready to talk. "Kurama--when you became human, how disorienting was it?"
"Incredibly," Kurama replied, without hesitation. "But you have to remember, I was not only changing species but inhabiting an infant's body. I had to wait to find out how much of what I hated I would grow out of naturally, and how much I could counteract with demon energy, and how much I simply had to live with."
"What did you hate most?"
"I can't smell anything." Kurama gave his answer so quickly Yusuke knew he'd already known it. "Not unless it's practically under my nose."
"I can smell everything. And it's driving me insane."
"You'll adjust quickly enough."
"It's not just you and me, I can smell everyone we were just with, on our clothes I guess. And it's not just that I can smell them, I can smell how scared they were and that's not possible, is it? That I smell how they felt?"
"Of course it's possible. An individual's scent changes in response to their emotions; it's not just intimidation when a demon announces he can smell your fear. Of course--" Kurama paused for a moment like he wasn't sure he should say what he was thinking, but then he went on. "You never smell of fear. Not even when I know you're frightened. You just don't give it off."
"I thought you said you couldn't smell it anymore."
"I can't." Kurama put down the hairbrush and picked up the scissors. "But I can read facial expressions and body language as well as ever, and I remember what people look like when they smell of fear."
"So--you can tell what someone smells like just from looking at them, even if you can't smell it anymore? That's impressive."
"Not really--I'm reading the body language of other demons as much as anything else. Hiei, for example, never looks like he's smelling fear when he looks at you."
"So you can tell what somebody looks like when they're smelling fear, too."
"That's an emotion as well."
Yusuke decided to see how much he could figure out from Kurama's scent. They were quiet for a moment as Kurama snipped away at his hair and Yusuke concentrated. He could definitely tell which of the dozens of scents around him was Kurama's--there was something about it that screamed alive, present that was different from all the cold traces. And even if there hadn't been, there was just the slightest edge of familiarity to it. It smelled like Kurama, and that was all there was to it. If a smell could be green, then this was--a hint of the plant life Kurama used as weapons, but beyond that still soothing and growing, somehow. Healer.
Yusuke wondered if he should ask the next question that came to mind--but he'd been blunt and random up until then, so why not continue? Kurama wasn't easily offended, and he seemed calm right now despite what they'd just been through. "How come you smell like a healer but not like a fighter?"
"The situation."
"Huh?"
"Because I'm not focused on fighting right now. My scent would change if someone was here I didn't want to be."
"I can't tell much from your scent."
"You picked up that I was non-aggressive, and that's probably the most important distinction any demon can make. But you may have to teach yourself the finer points through association."
"I can't hear your heart beat, either." This was possibly the most frightening of all the changes--even though Yusuke knew they were both alive, countless media sound effects had conditioned him that a beating heart meant life and the absence of one meant...
"It's not." Kurama's tone suggested that he didn't think he should have had to point that out."
"But how does the blood keep moving?"
"Different animals' hearts beat at different rates. My heart is beating fast enough for a demon."
Yusuke hesitated again before speaking the next question that came to mind--but there was no point in being polite anymore. "I--you remember that time I came up here and you had cut yourself and were bleeding all over the place?"
"Yes."
"I understand what you were talking about now."
Kurama didn't say anything for a moment; the only sound was the snip of the scissors. "Well, I suppose if you feel that will help you get to know this body, I'm in no position to stop you," he finally replied, studying the haircut as he spoke. "Yusuke, I really wish you didn't wear so much gel all the time, I can't remember what your hair looks like without it."
Yusuke frowned at Kurama's attempt to brush him off. "That's not what--I meant, I understand about demons wanting to--wanting to taste someone's blood."
"Ah." Kurama made a few more cautious snips at the back of Yusuke's hair. "Well, just remember what I said about the connotations. You don't want to go around randomly biting your friends."
"I know that--I mean, I remember that, it's just--I don't know. It came on so suddenly. I mean, I can smell your blood, I didn't know I'd be able to smell it. I--I guess I just wish I could taste someone's blood once without it being a fight or a big deal or anything, just to know what it's like."
Kurama sighed. Still standing behind Yusuke, he held his arm forward over Yusuke's shoulder, holding the scissors but not like he meant to use them. "You truly are remarkably unsubtle."
Yusuke turned his head to glance at him uneasily. Kurama nodded towards the scissors. "Once. Because I do understand some part of what you're going through, and because you understand how rude it is to ask and you're asking anyway, so it must be important to you. So we'll put aside convention for the moment but for this one time only, do you understand?"
Yusuke continued to wear a bewildered expression, not having expected Kurama to acquiesce so easily. Kurama gave another sigh, this one short and exasperated. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on Yusuke's shoulders. With his hands only inches away from Yusuke's face, he drew the longer blade of the scissors across his left palm, leaving a deep red line in its wake.
The effect was immediate, and overpowering. The scent of blood, so near to him, just barely welling up from the flesh--Yusuke found himself out of control of his body for the second time this night. But it wasn't like before, when someone else had been calling the shots; this time it was a primal, instinctive reaction, his body overwhelming his brain. Kurama won't mind, he knew this would be irresistible and he did it anyway, was Yusuke's last coherent thought as he seized Kurama's wrist and brought the wound to his mouth, sucking on it harshly.
It was at once worse and more wonderful than the time he'd gotten into his mom's alcohol. The intoxication was much deeper, and much quicker to hit. Kurama's blood didn't taste salty or coppery like Yusuke'd always known blood to taste--it tasted like Kurama, of course, but more than that it tasted dark and wonderful and like fighting and like sex too, even though Yusuke'd never had it he suddenly knew this was exactly what it tasted like. Kurama's life force was coursing through him and it was like Yusuke controlled him somehow, like if he tried he could make Kurama do anything he wanted, like he could control him use him take him enjoy him possess him--
The stool crashed to the ground as Yusuke surged to his feet, grabbing Kurama. There was some sort of struggle. Yusuke didn't know any more than that--he wanted more, there was a struggle, someone resisted, he was stronger. The newly acquired instincts of his body took care of the rest, and the next he knew he had pinned Kurama with his front against the wall, standing so close behind him that their bodies were pressed together. Yusuke bent his head without thinking and bit down on Kurama's neck; more blood poured into his mouth. He relished the feeling it gave him, control and lack of control simultaneously--control of the other, and lack of control of himself.
He pressed harder against Kurama and felt the tension in the other boy's body. It didn't matter. He felt himself start grinding against Kurama's ass, desperate for some release of the tension that was building in him, and at the same time he reached forward to palm Kurama's groin, wanting to be in possession of him. He bit the other boy's neck again, frustrated that the blood flow had slowed. With his free hand he grabbed a fistful of red hair, intending to pull Kurama's head to the side and give him more room to bite--
A sharp stinging in his palm pierced the haze he was in. Yusuke blinked, wondering what had happened, and glanced at it to find two puncture wounds gently trickling blood. When he had grabbed Kurama's hair, he had closed his fist over the rose hidden there. Or rather, over the thorns.
Yusuke didn't know if it had been a coincidence or if Kurama had manipulated the rose to be in his way, but it didn't matter. The realization that he had been attacked by the rose whip overpowered the intoxication of the taste of blood. Yusuke didn't have time to let go of Kurama; the fox felt his grip falter and had vaulted out of his grasp and to the other side of the room before Yusuke could release him. When Yusuke turned to face him, the rose was in Kurama's hand.
Yusuke leaned against the wall, gasping. There was a bloody smear right next to where he was resting his head, from where Kurama's left hand had pressed against it. Yusuke looked at it, and then at Kurama, whose neck was still bleeding freely. The wound looked terrible, much too terrible to have been made with teeth alone--and yet looking at it was stirring something in the pit of Yusuke's stomach, reminding him that he had made it, to claim him, to hold him down--
Yusuke closed his eyes, shaking, and pressed his back harder against the wall to make sure he didn't move from it. A calm voice cut into his inner turbulence. "Yusuke. You need to leave."
"Kurama, I didn't--I didn't--"
"You don't need to apologize, Yusuke." Kurama didn't sound angry--how could that be? And yet, Yusuke understood now what Kurama had said earlier about circumstances changing scents, because there was no trace of the healer to Kurama now. He was prepared to fight. "I'll admit I didn't anticipate this, but I should have, and there's nothing to forgive. But now that I'm bleeding so freely it will happen again. If I consent to it you'll never stop resenting me, and if I don't consent you'll do it anyway. The only option is to split up. I wish I could help you through this; believe me when I say I intended to. But you can't be near me tonight."
Yusuke took a few deep breaths, numbly trying to shove down all the urges he was experiencing--the urge to do violence, yes, but also the urge to cry with the misery of what he'd just done, and the selfish misery of being tossed out of the place he most wanted to be and knowing he deserved it, and an urge for Kurama that was so muddled up that Yusuke couldn't tell if it was platonic or sexual or possessive but it didn't matter; Yusuke knew the first step he took towards Kurama would be the last before he was surrounded by thorns. He was dangerous.
Just as he had feared.
Yusuke took a last deep, shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, because it wouldn't ever matter how many times Kurama denied his need to say it.
"You're forgiven," Kurama said calmly. The rose stayed where it was--still a rose, but ready to turn into a weapon at half a second's notice. Yusuke supposed he ought to be grateful that Kurama hadn't summoned the whip yet--it was nothing but a show of good faith, since he could sense the slight trembling of Kurama's muscles, his absolute readiness to strike. He was just trying not to hurt Yusuke's feelings.
Yusuke focused on nothing but his own movements, carefully peeling himself from the wall and putting one foot in front of the other, moving slowly and ruthlessly monitoring his body for the slightest tremor, the tiniest impulse to go back to that tantalizing smell of blood. "I'll call you when I'm--okay," Yusuke managed to say over his shoulder.
"Please do." Kurama's voice came from a few feet behind him; Yusuke did not look back as he began to descend the stairs. He'd seen more than he cared to of that wound. "Yusuke--please be safe tonight."
"'Kay," Yusuke replied numbly. He wanted to say something else--something, anything more concrete than that small apology. But nothing was concrete tonight; everything was shifting and anything was possible, and he didn't know if their relationship would or even could recover from this but there was nothing he could do about it except to take Kurama's advice and leave. He heard Kurama draw breath to say something more, but Yusuke hurried to the door and let himself out before he could hear it.
A/N: This scene is the main focus of the story, but there will be one more installment because I'm too nice to leave them like this. :)