Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Into the Gray	By : Dementian Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kurama/Kuwabara Views: 2206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho and make zero money off of it.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
   Shutting down one’s house and starting up another was an exhaustive affair. Kurama hadn’t realized how much stuff he owned until he was suddenly bidden to box it all, and the result was a slew on long nights where his messy house became exceedingly messier until he simply couldn’t live there anymore. He packed up as few things as he could and moved them into the house above his shop, simply eager to sleep somewhere that wasn’t strewn with papers or books. His new property needed a bit of work before he could truly move into it, and Kazuma had recommended he do repairs before settling in. Kurama took his advice, repairing the walls and cleaning the kitchen thoroughly before he decided it was time to move his actual furniture.
   He rented a moving van and paid his final month’s rent, his mind often constantly residing in the future.
   Yusuke and Keiko wanted to help Kurama move as a repayment for all that Kurama had done during their own move into Yusuke’s. He was admittedly very grateful for their help because both Yusuke and Kazuma were much stronger than him and could lift things that he could not. They even seemed to be making a game out of it, egging each other one as to who could lift more up, while Keiko and Yukina threw out warnings of ‘don’t strain yourself’ that were repeatedly ignored. It was a crisp autumn day, slightly overcast, and by the time that all of Kurama’s boxes were put into the moving van and they were on their way back to the new house, it was nearing lunch.
   Yusuke and Kazuma contented themselves with helping Kurama unpack while Keiko and Yukina left to get pizza from a local joint down the street. It was so strange to see his sofa and his coffee table in this new house, to know that he was going to set up a life for himself here that he might be able to progress into something more. Kurama could envision all the years he might spend in this location. All the memories he might make. It was a comforting notion, despite the fact that Shiori’s illness hung over him like a terrible cloud. If he could simply pretend Shiori was not sick, his life seemed to be coming together. If that one thing wasn’t tearing him apart, all would be well.
   When Keiko and Yukina returned with pizza and beer, Yusuke practically fell onto his knees with joy. It was the simple things that made for the happiest moments.
   Yusuke and Kazuma collapsed onto Kurama’s couch, both of them with their shirts off and sweating as they ate and drink to their content. Keiko and Yukina were likewise quite famished, their bandanas and tank tops an odd change to the usual clothes Kurama saw them in. It was rare to catch Yukina in jeans, and it made him wonder what Hiei might look like if someone were to ever put him such an outfit.
   Probably quite handsome, but Kurama would be damned if he ever told Hiei that.
   “I don’t know how I ever moved without you before,” Kurama remarked, shocked that though they had begun at eight they were now nearly halfway done by noon. Had he been by himself, he would still probably be at the other location straining with furniture. “Your strength is indispensable.”
   “Ah, this is chump shit compared to grandma,” Yusuke reminded him, and Kurama smiled at the memory of Genkai. Her death had been peaceful and her land divided, but thoughts of her brought Kurama back to a time before restaurants and herb shops, a time when Yusuke had been spirit detective and open to adventure at every turn. It was incredible that they had lived through it all (though, to be fair, Yusuke had died twice).
   “Yeah, remind us again of some of the stuff she made you do,” Kazuma jested.
   “Uh, how about balance on a spike for four days with nothing but my spirit energy holding me up?” Yusuke recalled. “Or there was also that time she infused her energy into me and basically tore me apart like a rag down in some nasty ass cave.” Yusuke shuddered. “That was a fun fuckin’ day."
   Kurama laughed, but a buzzing sensation in his pocket made him shift to take his cell phone out. As he picked it up, he noticed the number was unfamiliar to him.
   “Hello?” Kurama asked, rising from the couch and walking a few feet away to lean against the wall. He watched Kazuma and Yusuke bait each other about who had had it worse under Genkai’s training, smiling absently.
   “Is this Shuichi Minamino?” an older woman asked.
   “This is he."
   “This is Nurse Saieto. I oversee the ward where your mother is receiving treatment-“
   Kurama grabbed at the wall, his knees nearly going out under him as a sudden wild panic flared up inside him. If the hospital was calling him then something must have happened.
   “Is everything alright?” Kurama demanded at once. His panicked voice caught Kazuma’s attention at once, and suddenly the room was very quiet as several pairs of eyes were upon him.
   “Your mother is fine,” Saieto assured him at once, and Kurama could not help but let out a small breath of relief, “She’s resting right now, but there’s a man here to see her. He isn’t on the receiving list, and he insists that... he’s her husband. But he’s not. As her legal caretaker, you must decide whether or not he can enter.”
   Kurama looked at Kazuma, his brow furrowing in thought. Shiori’s actual husband was on the receiving list, and also easily recognizable by nurses who cared for his mother. The only person that might call himself her husband was Kurama’s own father, but he had not seen Shiori in many years and had never been able to see Kurama himself. Shiori had been adamant, cutting the pair of them off, and even from his earliest years Kurama could remember Shiori weeping about his father.
   Something painful had occurred there; why would he be visiting now?
   “What is his name?” Kurama asked.
   “Matsuri Saburo... He says he’s your father.”
   So it was his father. Kurama closed his eyes, rubbing his brow again where a slight tension headache was beginning to form. It seemed that his peaceful day was about to take a jolt into the uncomfortable, unfortunately for him.
   His irritation had sparked the concern of both Kazuma and Yusuke who were still watching him.
   “Dude, what the fuck?" Yusuke murmured, perhaps under the impression that the emergency extended to all of them.
   “Baby, you’re scaring me,” Kazuma said, his expression pale as he waited.
Kurama smiled, though it was forced and thin. “I'm on my way there,” he informed Saieto. “Do not let him into her room until I see him first.”
   “Of course.”
   “Thank you,” Kurama said, and ended the call. At once he grabbed for his jacket which lay across the back of the couch, shrugging it on and feeling for his keys in his pocket. Of course they weren’t there. When were they ever where Kurama thought he’d left them? Kurama began to search, venturing into the kitchen where he haphazardly overturned a box of recipes on the counter in order to see beneath it.
   “I have to go,” he finally announced, finding his keys under a stack of mail that had come for him at his now old address. “Don’t worry about anything else, just finish up lunch and let yourselves out--“
   But even as Kurama made a bee line for the door Keiko called out angrily from the floor.
   “Wait!” she demanded, “What-!?”
   Kazuma cut across her, “Who was that on the phone?”
   Kurama looked over his shoulder to find that Kazuma had risen up from the couch, and was watching him anxiously. The pizza and beer was now long forgotten, his attention entirely focused on Kurama.
   “A nurse from the hospital where...” Kurama gritted his teeth, not particularly eager to make this admission, “Shiori is receiving treatment. A man has attempted to enter her room without being on the list of identified visitors. They called me, because I am the one who grants access to her room." He paused, noting that Kazuma’s expression had suddenly started to grow dark. “I need to go see this man for myself."
   “Who is he?" Kazuma demanded; the angry edge to his voice obvious.

   “Technically, he is my father.”
   Kazuma was at the door in a heartbeat, thrusting his arm out so that Kurama could not pass to leave.
   “No!” Kazuma said flat out. Kurama was hardly perturbed, but felt a spark of irritation at Kazuma treating him like a naughty child over something he wouldn’t know anything about. “No, she told me to never let him see you!”
Or perhaps he knew more than Kurama suspected.
Kazuma thumped the door with his fist. “Hell no! You are not going down there! Not alone, anyway!" And at that he bent over to snatch his shirt off the floor, tugging it back over his head. He grabbed his own keys and cellphone, a murderously determined look upon his face.
   “Kazuma, there is really no need--“ Kurama tried to dissuade him, but Kazuma wasn’t listening. “This man could be quite harmless and I would be a hypocrite to deny any man a second chance."
   “I'm telling you!" Kazuma warned again, pocketing his keys and phone, “Shiori told me to never let him near you. She said that he’ll worm his way right into the situation, and then rip at you!”
   "Hang on!" Yusuke demanded from the couch. He too had risen up, and like Kazuma had picked up his shirt from the floor to pull it back on over his head, “Let’s take it easy. He’s Kurama’s dad, not a total stranger. What’s this guy’s name?” Yusuke asked.
   “Matsuri Saburo.” Kurama replied. “I’ve heard his name though I never was allowed to see him growing-“

   “And I'll tell you why!” Kazuma interjected with a righteous anger, “Because he's a fucking prick, and he down talked your mother and tried to harass her all the time! She told me this! She begged me to never let him hurt you, and I gave her my word; as a man, I won’t go back on it!”
   “Right,” Yusuke sneered, having heard far too much of this ‘I'm a man’ talk in his life. “Well, while we’re here being manly men, this dude is down at the hospital trying to get into Shiori’s room. Maybe we should, I don’t know, go investigate that?"
   Kazuma needed no further prompting. He was out the door in a heartbeat and thundering his way down the stairs. Yusuke watched him go, a hand over his mouth in thought.
   “I swear, I know that name,” Yusuke murmured to himself. “I just don’t know where."
   “You do?” Kurama asked, for he was quite surprised to find that Yusuke might actually know his father. The world was small, it seemed.
   “Yeah it’s... weird,” Yusuke said. Behind him Keiko and Yukina were putting up the pizza, making to leave for the hospital. “Like, I’ve heard it somewhere before.”
   He looked at Kurama and smiled, “I don’t know. Maybe if I see him I’ll figure it out. Either way, I’m involved now.”
   “No--“ Kurama tried to stop him but Yusuke was out the door, following Kazuma down the stairs.
   “I’m going too!” Keiko cried out, right on Yusuke’s heels.
   “Keiko-!” Kurama tried to stop her, but she was much too fast and he didn’t have the energy to fight it. Now it was only him and Yukina left; as she slipped past him through the door she gave him a meek smile.
   He supposed there was no use in fighting it. At this point he had no choice but follow along.
   They took Yusuke and Keiko’s car to the hospital, Kazuma having already headed off on his motorcycle. Kurama was quite concerned that he was going to reach the hospital before them and beat down the doors looking for Masturi, but as they reached the hospital Kazuma was found to be outside waiting for them on a bench. He was still glowering, but at least he hadn’t attempted to take this situation into his own hands.
   It was a quiet day, and the hospital was relatively empty save for long term patients who moved about during visiting hours. Shiori, having a malignant tumor, received treatment on the third floor, and so they took the elevator up (resulting in the most uncomfortable two and a half minutes of Kurama’s life as Kazuma steamed beside him and Yukina looked down meekly at the floor). When they got out on the third floor, Kurama made a bee line for the matron’s desk.
   “Remember, my name is Shuichi,” Kurama warned over his shoulder.
   “Right,” Keiko said, sounding slightly disheartened as she observed how quiet and still this ward was. Despite it being visiting hours, it was difficult to find much energy in a cancer therapy suite. “I wish I’d brought flowers or something.”
   “Nah, she’s not here permanently,” Yusuke consoled her from behind Kurama. “This is just a day thing."
   “Exactly,” Kurama agreed, smiling at Keiko reassuringly over his shoulder. It was incredibly sweet of her to think of Shiori in such a way. “Don’t worry about anything.”
   Yet as he turned back around, he heard Yusuke whisper in Keiko’s ear, “If she were here all the time, Kurama would be, too.”
   It seemed they knew him well.
   Kurama approached the matron’s desk and found her working tirelessly at a computer. When she saw him, she smiled, and pulled away from her keyboard to address him politely.
   “Nurse Saieto,” Kurama greeted her.
   “Mr. Minamino,” Saieto said. “I’m so glad to see you’re here. Your mother wants to speak with you before you see anyone else.”
   Her meaning was clear as she looked at him imploringly. “She said it was very urgent, and, given her state, we didn’t want to cause her any unneeded stress."
   Still, Kurama wondered where Matsuri was as he looked about.
   "Where is he?" Kurama asked.
   “In the waiting room around the corner,” Saieto said, but she kept looking at Kurama in such a way that he knew he ought to see Shiori first.
   Kurama nodded to her, and she relaxed into a smile at once. She gestured to the group behind Kurama.
   “Family?” Saieto asked.
   “Cousins," Kurama lied, knowing full well only family could get inside the ward. “And a wife of a cousin,” he added, gesturing to Keiko.
   “Lovely." Saieto was unperturbed, trusting Kurama after having known him through Shiori for so many years. “Go right on in.”
   And with that, she pressed a button behind her desk that caused the double doors beside her desk to open. Their access free to the ward beyond, Kurama lead the way to Shiori’s day room.
   “So we’re cousins now?” Yusuke joked softly in Kurama’s ear.
   Kurama leaned in, eager for them not to be overheard as they passed by another internal nurses station. “They won’t allow anyone but family in. Shiori will back up the story,” Kurama said, for Shiori had lied before when his step brother Kokoda had brought over his girlfriend at one point. Shiori’s room was closed and dim, the curtains drawn to cast the room in a cool semi darkness as Kurama slid the door open and quietly stepped inside. He turned, stopping the others at the door.
   “Let me handle this.” Kurama murmured softly. He caught Kazuma’s eyes, and noticed that true concern there for Shiori; a good enough reason for Kazuma to come in. The others, however, needed to stay outside. This ward was not a house party; Shiori’s condition was much too frail for horseplay.
   Kurama and Kazuma moved inside, coming around the curtain to find Shiori relaxing in a lazy chair with a thick blanket cast over her lap and legs. She was hooked up to several machines that pumped chemicals through her system, her face tired and drawn as she slept fitfully.
   Kurama reached out and softly stroked her cheek, causing her brown eyes to flutter open. When she saw him, she smiled.
   “Oh, no, you came...” Shiori whispered, her voice hollow and stressed. “I was so afraid-“
   “Relax,” Kurama soothed, letting his hand stroke the dip of her cheek, “I came to you first, as you wanted."
   “Thank God," she said, and she sounded truly miserable as she looked up at him from her chair.
   “Shuichi, tell them he can never come in my room,” Shiori pleaded, her voice frail. “Ever! And do not allow him near you!"
   Tears spilt from her eyes, her emotional state thrown to the wind as powerful drugs pumped through her failing body. Kurama wiped her tears away at once, hating to see them at all. They made a terrible ugly feeling rise up inside of him, as if something murderous might burst forth from his body at any time and take revenge for Shiori’s pain.
   “Stay away.” Her eyes closed again, more tears slipping out. “No matter what he says... Stay away."
   Kurama shushed her.
   “Everything will be fine," he soothed, and for a while Shiori was still.
   “Every time I feel that I’ve closed this chapter in my life... he comes back.” Shiori’s distress only made Kurama angrier, a hot feeling surfacing in his chest. Shiori in pain, in panic, was one of the few things that brought him to his knees. One of the few things that made him realize just how frail he was.
   “I’ll handle it,” Kurama assured her. Far from soothed, Shiori’s eyes snapped back open, and she suddenly reached up to grab his hand tight from where it lay upon her cheek. She was truly afraid; the emotion radiated from every pore of her being.
   “No!” she said. She sounded almost angry at him as she spoke, “No. You stay away from him. He is... awful. He is truly horrible person. A drug addict, and a criminal. A fiend.... I’ve heard rumors.”

   She closed her eyes again, her lips quivering as she tried to keep from weeping, “I never wanted to believe them but you have to understand there is a reason I never let you be alone with him. There is a reason I never let him in the house."
   “Relax,” Kurama said, rubbing her cheek until she was quiet, “Relax...”
   Her other hand lay upon the arm of her chair, close to Kazuma’s side, and suddenly she was reaching up with her fingers to try and touch his hand. Kazuma took her hand in his own, eager to help her.
   “Don’t let him near Shuichi,“ Shiori mumbled, her words slurring as she began to lose consciousness.
   “I won’t,” Kazuma said firmly. “You try and sleep.”
   He fixed the blanket a little better across her bare feet.

   As soon as Shiori was asleep again, they returned to the door where Yusuke, Keiko, and Yukina were waiting patiently. Kurama wanted to know more, to assess the situation further, but he could tell that Kazuma was more determined than ever to protect both him and Shiori from this unknown man.
   In Kurama’s logic, one could not protect from a threat until one understood a threat. Avoiding Matsuri would not ease the problem.

   “I’m going to speak with the nurse and confide Shiori’s request,” Kurama said. Kazuma nodded, looking over his shoulder.
   They spoke in hushed tones. No one was eager to go above a whisper with Shiori asleep.
   “I’m gonna stay here and guard her room. I don’t trust this guy. He could try to weasel his way back in,” Kazuma warned.
   “Allow me to assess the situation,” Kurama tried.
   “No!"
   "She is a divorcee. She has her own past with him,” Kurama said, though he was starting to get slightly annoyed with Kazuma’s stubborn demands. “He could be completely different. Until we understand him, how can we accept him for a threat?”
   “I'm not gonna allow him to hurt you-"
   “Kazuma, I am not a child," Kurama growled, his anger slowly beginning to bubble to the surface. Kazuma wasn’t backing down, his eyes as fiery as Kurama’s hushed tones, “Do not treat me like one-“
   “Relax,” Yusuke hissed, ceasing the argument before it started. “Both of you. Shit man, people are sick in here."
   Kurama glared at him.
   “Well, they are!” Yusuke said defensively, “Look, let me go with him." Yusuke said to Kazuma, who still looked far from convinced, “We can both check it out. Cool? You stay here, I’ll go.”
   “And I’ll stay with you,” Keiko offered to Kazuma. “We can keep her company.”
   “Sound good?” Yusuke gave Kazuma a hopeful thumbs up. Kazuma did not look happy but, he seemed to be backing off his firm stance.
   Kurama would take any room he could get at this point.
   “I think we are over playing this, but if it will make you comfortable then come on,” Kurama grumbled to Kazuma, tugging Yusuke along out the door. The waiting room was on the other side of the double doors, requiring a nurse to buzz you in if you wanted to see a patient, and as Yusuke and Kurama walked back through to the other side, they hung a left to travel down a long hallway.
   “Man, I hate hospitals,” Yusuke commented, slightly uneasy as he looked around, “Shit, the last time I was in one, a dude tried to slice my face open.” He was no doubt commenting on their time during Sensui’s trial. That had been an exhausting day.
   They took another left, and as they rounded the corner to a deserted waiting room Kurama saw a tall, lean man sitting idly upon a bench looking out at the windows in a forlorn way. He was handsome, with a chiseled face and dark green eyes, but it was his hair that struck Kurama the most. It was dark red, almost black in its color; the very same tint as his own. Kurama had inherited the shape of Shiori’s eyes, but this man looked so incredibly like the human body of Shuichi Minamino that Kurama was put off and suddenly wanted to rethink this approach.

   Was this the right thing to do? Kurama was unsure.
   “Let me go and handle this by myself," Kurama whispered to Yusuke. “Don’t tell Kazum--“

   Yusuke’s face stopped him cold. Where before there had been aloof calm, suddenly there was recognition and fear, a strange mixture that set Kurama on edge. It was a foreign attitude for Yusuke to take, and it made him even more nervous as he saw how Yusuke looked at his biological father.
   Yusuke recognized Matsuri, and he was afraid. But why?
   “Yusuke?” Kurama asked. He reached out to touch Yusuke’s shoulder, and Yusuke jumped, shaken from his reverie.
   “Uh- nothing.” Yusuke gave him a hasty smile, though it was short lived, “I just...had this really weird thought. You wanna go check this out?”
   “Yes," Kurama said, though he was far from convinced that Yusuke was okay.
   “I’ll wait here,” Yusuke said. “You need me, come get me."
   Kurama turned away, wondering what on earth that expression of fear had been about. As he walked towards Matsuri, his defenses were on high and his senses were scanning the man for a threat. He didn’t seem tense or uneasy; he was relaxing quite comfortably in the chair. In slacks and a loose button down, he seemed relatively well put together. Nevertheless it was shocking to imagine that this man was his father, that this man loved Shiori and had been with her.
   Through this man, Kurama had found sanctuary from the judgment of spirit world. He owed him a great deal, though he’d be far from prone to admit that.
   “Matsuri Saburo?” Kurama greeted Matsuri; when he looked up, Matsuri was revealed to have prominent bags under his eyes. Clearly he did not sleep well.
   “Do I know you?” Matsuri asked, rising up. His tone was unthreatening, and his stance was relaxed.
   “I’m your son, Shuichi Minamino," Kurama replied, noticing how Matsuri suddenly stared at him agape.
   Matsuri made several noises conveying his shock and surprise.
   “Shuichi?” Matsuri repeated. Kurama nodded, “I... I can’t believe it! Look at you... You’re so grown up!"
   “Why are you here?” Kurama asked. He noticed the smell of smoke around Matsuri; it seemed that he indulged in cigarettes. He didn’t smell of booze, however, and even wore an aftershave to mask the offensive carbon odor. Matsuri did not seem like an emotionally available man, surprised and happy to see him but still keeping his reactions dulled as he shucked his hands in his pockets and looked away.
   The pair of them could be twins, save for the shape of Kurama’s eyes.
   “I’m a pediatrician in a neighboring prefecture; I heard your mother was in the hospital and that she ... wasn’t doing well. I came to visit her. I know she has a hard time seeing me, I wish every day I hadn’t left her, but... our personalities just didn’t work well together. Your mother was too good for me, a true angel.” Matsuri looked down, sorrowful. “I wanted to see how she was.”
   "She seemed quite determined for you not to see her," Kurama said. He was far from forgetting Shiori's ominous warning.

   “Well, she’s never liked people fretting over her, has she?” Matsuri chuckled. His tone was sincere, his smile relaxed, and little by little Kurama’s nerves were starting to slacken. Perhaps Shiori had been over eager to keep him away; Matsuri didn’t seem so awful up close, “’Course, she always worries about others. Like you.” Matsuri said, and Kurama flushed at the unpleasant thought. “She was so protective over you when you were growing up. My God, that day with the glass jar. That scared me to death."
   Kurama’s jaw tightened, the memory hot and vivid in his mind even now as a grown man. How had Matsuri known about that day? Kurama had been very small, perhaps he and Shiori had still been in good contact back then.
   “Why did I never see you during my youth?” Kurama asked, in an attempt to devoid the conversation elsewhere. He was starting to feel uncomfortable, though not through any fault of Matsuri’s.
   “Well... It was difficult starting my own practice, I couldn’t provide the life that you deserved, that your mother deserved. Her father and I often fought, and I believed back then that she’d be better off without me until I established a firm practice. But when I did, and came back to ask her to marry me, I found out that she was in love with another man. I couldn’t interject on her happiness, even though she was mine. So I left. I never forgot about her though, I often tried to see how she was. Every time she’d just tell me to leave.” Matsuri paused, giving a weak laugh, “We’re an odd pair. We go in circles."
   He didn’t seem too bothered at the concept of Shiori being married to another man. That was a curious notion, indeed. If he wasn’t jealous, then perhaps he was just truly concerned.
   “I couldn’t give her what she deserved, what you deserved. I wasn’t good enough.” Matsuri looked down at this, a glum expression sweeping over his face.

   Kurama felt a stab of regret in this heart. “That can hardly be the truth.”
   “Well,” Matsuri said with a gentle smile, “One day when you’re in love with someone, you might understand the feeling.”
   Suddenly Kurama thought of Kazuma, and of how he’d felt upon the floor between Kazuma’s powerful legs. He'd wanted to push Kazuma to heights of unattainable pleasure then, to adore Kazuma and worship his body-
   “I already am,” Kurama said.
   Matsuri smiled even wider. “Well, good for you. I’m glad to hear one of us is doing something right. Even now after years, my practice isn’t what it should be. It’s so difficult to be a small town doctor now days, especially one that works in Kampo.”
   It shocked him to know that his biological father studied the art of ancient herbal medicine just as he did, and Kurama could not keep the surprise off his face.
   “You study herbs,” Kurama said.
   “Extensively. They’re my passion.”
   Kurama looked away, over his shoulder at Yusuke who was still watching the pair of them warily. Kurama smiled at Yusuke, to let him know everything was alright. When he looked back again, Matsuri was watching with slight unease.
   “Are you alright? Seeing me must be unnerving. I know you’ve had a hard time growing up with your mother without me. You probably felt like you were letting her down, the only man of the house."
   Kurama flushed again; Matsuri had the unnerving skill of knowing Kurama’s weak spots. Perhaps it was a personality trait that they shared, akin to their study of Kampo.
   “Is there any way that I can help you?” Kurama asked, quite guilty as he observed Matsuri’s exhausted state. The poor man must have been working himself to death.
   “It’s difficult to make ends meet, but I can manage-“ Matsuri admitted. Kurama reached into his pocket at once, though Matsuri was shaking his head now.
   “Let me-“
   “No. No, really-"
   “I insist,” Kurama urged. “You’re my father; I want to help you. Whatever occurred between the pair of you is not my business, though for years admittedly I had wondered.”
   Matsuri looked down, ashamed again.
   “I swear,” he murmured softly, “I love your mother, I'm just not the man she deserves. Your step father is a well established business man. He’s good for her, and can provide for her in moments like this. He can give her the security she so deserves.”
   Suddenly Kurama could see many more similarities in Matsuri. He handed over what little cash he had on him, hoping it would help in some small way.

   “Please,” Kurama said; Matsuri reluctantly took it. “I insist. If you... ever need help. You can find me on 8th Street across from Yusuke’s, the new restaurant. I’ve just started a Kampo shop there."
   “No kidding!” Matsuri laughed, pocketing the money, “Wow... we’re quite alike aren’t we.”
   “Disturbingly so,” Kurama agreed.
   Suddenly the sound of Kazuma's voice was upon the air, and Kurama looked quickly over his shoulder to find Yusuke looking back down the hallway from which they’d come He gave Kurama a warning look.
   “You should go,” Kurama urged Matsuri. Matsuri did not need to be told twice, quickly beginning to step away.
   “I may stop by your shop,” Matsuri said with a smile.
   “As you wish,” Kurama said.
   “Shuichi...” His father was quite taken aback, even now after their conversation. “My God, it’s unreal.”
   He quickly turned the corner at the opposite end of the hallway and took the stairs down to a lower level. Kurama’s eyes lingered on the spot where he had whipped out of sight.
   “So?” Yusuke asked from the corner, waiting for a final say. As Kurama turned, only one word could come to mind.
   “Unnerving.” Kurama repeated.
~*~
The day after the bizarre incident at Sariashiki Hospital, Kazuma found himself in a spot of high agitation. It was difficult to imagine what with so much good floating around his life, but Kazuma was pissed. As with so many other times, he found himself angry at Yusuke Urameshi, wishing he could beat the little twerps face in, but instead he was picking out a shirt to go clubbing in as Kurama brushed his hair.
   Fuckin’ Yusuke Urameshi. Kazuma-Got-His-Dick-Sucked party... It would be funny if it wasn’t so disturbingly sad. He wondered how long Yusuke had been cooking such a move up. Probably since the moment he found out that Kazuma and Kurama had taken their relationship to the next level.
   Now they’d been invited out to go clubbing with Yusuke, Keiko, Shizuru, and Yukina. The whole lot of them wanted to drink with Kurama and Kazuma, to have fun and relax after such a stressful few months. The last club experience had been a nightmare in Kazuma’s opinion but Yusuke forswore that everything would be better this time. This time they would dance and make merry. This time they would stay the hell away from Spirytus and drink sane liqueur. This time they would have fun. Kazuma had tried to tell him that they were busy, that they didn’t want to go out drinking, but Yusuke wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He’d demanded Kazuma’s presence, swearing that if he didn’t he would tell enormous stories about Kazuma getting his first blow job from Kurama while he himself had nabbed Kazuma’s first kiss.
   In short, Kazuma was furious as he dressed.

   “Kazu... Let it go.” Kurama smiled from Kazuma’s bed, continuing to brush his hair. It was quite a difficult task; Kurama had as much hair as Shizuru, though it was thicker and more lovely in Kazuma’s mind.
   “I’m not lettin’ it go,” Kazuma growled, running a slight wax through his hair in old habit, “This isn’t funny.”
   “He loves you, and he’s happy that you’re happy." Kurama smiled.
   “Yeah, well, he’s a real sack of shit when he wants to be.”

~*~
   They took the metro back down to the club district, Kazuma lamenting the whole way that he was about to have to walk back into 4th and 23rd.
   It was a Saturday night and the district was wild with activity. People were even partying on the streets despite it being only nine at night. Yusuke had texted them to meet their group inside, taking the same side door as before and asking for the ‘green room’, whatever the hell that was. Frankly, Kazuma had no desire whatsoever to ask anyone anything at all, and so as Kurama lead the way into the nightclub Kazuma hung back with a bitter scowl.
   The guard let them inside once again, and as they were plunged into that same humid darkness the sound of bass began to assault Kazuma’s ear drums. As they emerged onto the second floor balcony, Kazuma looked about left and right for any sight of Yusuke, Keiko, Shizuru, or Yukina.
   He could see no one familiar.
   “I wonder where they are.” Kazuma mused.
   “Well, follow the noises of wild partying and we should be able to find Yusuke,” Kurama joked as he peered about. “Even in a crowd like this, he is his own animal.”
   “I still don't see him,” Kazuma said.
   “Hold on,” Kurama grumbled, stretching out an arm to touch the wall of the club. He closed his eyes, and Kazuma knew that he was sensing for Yusuke. For a minute, they stood in relative calm (or as calm as one could be in such a packed place) until Kurama dropped his hand and pointed a finger to the left.
   “He’s in a hidden room,” Kurama deduced. “If we push on the wall, it should open for us.”
   Kurama did so, and after a moment of peculiar searching his fingers found the hidden door. It swung open and the pair of them slipped into the cramped hallway. It took them down a short flight of stairs, where they took an immediate left at the bottom to find a spacious green room full of couches, tables, and four people.
   One of whom was upon a table, screaming wildly.
   Yukina was on her back, laughing delightedly as Yusuke plundered her exposed belly button with his tongue. Body shots were the call of the hour, a lemon wedge and salt the proof of tequila running through people’s systems. Yukina’s hands were switching from threading in Yusuke’s gelled hair to clap over her mouth when she screamed and laughed. Her lovely pale cheeks were flushed hot pink, her aqua hair spilling all over the table. She’d worn a white top that tied in the back, a dangerously provocative move in such a place. Yukina caught sight of them in the doorway, watching Yusuke’s outrageous display, and cried out.
   “D-Don’t tell my brother!” she laughed hysterically.
   Kazuma wondered what sort of scene would unfold if someone were to tell Hiei that Yusuke had been sucking high grade tequila from his sister’s belly button.
   He had a feeling it would involve a great deal of fire.
   “No, I rather like Yusuke in one piece,” Kurama assured her, sliding onto the couch next to Shizuru and accepting a shot from her at once to throw it back.
   “Hey! It's you!” Yusuke smiled up at them, licking tequila from his lips. Yukina was still giggling feverishly upon the table, and though they touched each other there was no sexual interest between them. Kazuma glowered at Yusuke as he descended.
   Kurama might have agreed to not tell Hiei, but Kazuma was still considering it.
       “Congrats on gettin’ blown!” Yusuke sneered at him, “You can thank me any time you want!"
   “I’m gonna thank you by jamming my goddamn fist down your throat!” Kazuma snarled, grabbing Yusuke by the shirt collar and yanking him close over the table. Yukina squeaked, covering her face, unable to stop laughing at the sight above her as Yusuke suddenly put a knee up on the table and slid right over to Kazuma, grinning maniacally.
   “No-!” Keiko warned from the couch, her eyes flashing. “No fighting t’night! You two need to kiss and make up-“
   “Yeah, Kazuma,” Yusuke said huskily, throwing an arm around Kazuma’s neck. Kazuma took an automatic step backward, resulting in him nearly falling over as Yusuke followed him off the table, “Kiss me?”
   “I’d sooner eat dog crap than kiss you,” Kazuma warned, still quite irritated about this whole club affair, but Yusuke motioned to Shizuru. She grinned, pouring a shot for Yusuke who took it and pressed it to Kazuma’s hands.
   “Shuttup and take a shot,” Yusuke said. “Take a shot. Go on!”
   Kazuma did, just to shut Yusuke up.
   “Are you happy now?” Kazuma demanded, but Yusuke was getting another shot.
   “Another one,” Yusuke demanded. Kazuma had no choice but to accept, throwing the other shot back. Yusuke was taking a shot as well, looking quite pleased with himself.
   Hell, he could probably drink the whole bottle of tequila by himself.
   “How much have you had-?” Kazuma demanded. He could not keep from laughing as Yusuke grabbed the tequila bottle from behind Shizuru’s head where it sat on a high table, pouring them both shots and forcing Kazuma to drink.
   Damnit, didn’t they have a school assembly one time about this sort of crap?
   “Not enough!” Yusuke sneered, throwing back a shot, “Take another!”
   Kazuma did so. Yusuke was, after all, the leader of this outfit. Maybe he ought to let Yusuke take charge tonight... he clearly seemed to know what he was doing.

   Suddenly, Kazuma’s stomach flipped as he saw Yukina climb off the table. For one second he got a view of the side of her breast and it was something he really wished he had never seen. But she was sitting in Shizuru’s lap before anything indecent could be exposed; they kissed, Shizuru’s arm coming around Yukina’s waist in a firm and protective embrace.
   “Shit, I might just need it.” Kazuma glowered.
   “That’s the spirit!” Yusuke egged him on, relaxing back onto the table. “Now I realize what your problem was last time!”
   “Oh yeah?”
   “You weren’t partying with me! And!” he added, jerking a thumb over at Kurama, “You were drinking Spirytus.”

   Shizuru made a face, looking rather impressed at Kurama.
   “Damn Kurama, you know how to party,” Shizuru said.
   “I ball hard,” Kurama joked.
   “I want to ball hard!” Yukina sat up straighter in Shizuru’s lap. She seemed quite eager to find Spirytus and drink it.

   “No!” The word came from everyone, and Yukina bit her lip meekly as she shrank down a little in Shizuru’s lap.
   “Spirytus is off limits, little girl!” Yusuke warned, “Tonight we are gonna party long and hard... and I intend on you staying awake for all of it.”
   Yukina beamed delightedly.

   It was impossible for them to stay away from the dance floor. They went downstairs as a group, drunk from tequila and spinning in a laughing haze. The dance floor was packed tight, bodies moving all around them, but with the group together they could hold their own and protect Yukina in the middle. It was a wild, sweaty affair, but Kazuma didn’t care. The bass reverberated through his system, suddenly filling his breath. His very flesh sizzled with the rhythm, his hands seeking out Kurama’s body; and without any preamble they were grinding together. Kazuma was oblivious to any other company they kept. This was nothing at all like his first club experience where they had stayed only an hour and ended up going home to a massive fight. Kazuma was shocked when he pulled out his phone to snag a photo and realized it was past midnight.
   When they returned in a sweaty heap to their private room, they ended up drinking even more. Yusuke was determined to find out who the better drinker was between he and Kurama and suddenly the table was a battle ground as Yusuke and Kurama threw shots back.
   “You think you can take me, red riding hood?!”
   “Careful, Yusuke. I can turn into the wolf whenever I please-“
   “Coulda sworn you were a fox demon!”
   “Do you know what foxes do when they are cornered, Yusuke?”
   “Uh, lick their fur?”
   “They bare their teeth!”
   It turned out neither of them could beat the other.
   It was strange, to observe difference between them as they got drunker. Kurama could barely stand but his speech was as articulate and calm as ever. Meanwhile Yusuke was impossible to knock down, his knees locked and his legs firm but his speech largely unintelligible. Half the time he burst into laughter mid-sentence, slurring his words as he threw wild hand gestures around. Kurama collapsed onto the couch, laughing as Yusuke made a tower out of their shot glasses and demanded Kazuma ‘peer review’ his ‘architectural design’
   What came out was “‘K’zuma ge’ over her an... peer review thiz delicious design-!”

   Yusuke had no choice but to fall onto the couch when Keiko pulled him down. Perhaps she was trying to get him away from the shot glasses. The tequila was nearly gone now (though to be fair, they’d all drank from it).
   Kazuma watched Yusuke squirm in Keiko’s hold, remarking that Yusuke’s architecture design was in danger of falling over if he kicked out at the table.
   “Hey-hey!” Yusuke beckoned to him with a slur, reaching into his jacket with slight difficulty. He was trying to pull something out, and laughed wildly as Keiko reached underneath his shirt. She was kissing his jaw, peppering his skin with affection. Yusuke could barely concentrate.
   “Come here,” Yusuke said, and Kazuma stumbled back over to the couch, collapsing on Kurama’s other side. “I gotta show you... why I really called us here.” Kurama was drunk, smiling blissfully, and suddenly Kazuma could not help but wrap an arm around the back of Kurama’s neck as he pulled him into his side. Being drunk was nice, but having Kurama pressed up against him was even nicer. He sought each pleasure he could, chasing after golden glows like a dog would cars as Yusuke finally pulled a large envelope out of his jacket. How long had he had that in there? What an old place to keep a letter... and why would he bring one to a party? Shizuru and Yukina were watching with interest as Yusuke tried to undo the seal on the envelope with slight difficulty. It took him longer than usual, and when he finally did he pulled out several waxy pictures.
   “Look!” For a moment he held them up high, but before Kazuma could see what the photos were of Yusuke suddenly snatched them back to his chest.
   “Wait! I change my mind,” Yusuke blurted out drunkenly. Keiko giggled, trying to pull the pictures away from his chest, “I gotta explain first.”
   “Oh my God, you’re so indecisive,” Keiko chastised him, but Yusuke just held the pictures tighter to his chest.
   “No, no, lemme... explain." He paused as she kissed him, breaking into a laughing fit as her fingers dancing over his chest tickled him, “No! Wait! Okay-“ Yusuke plunged ahead, still grinning as Keiko’s fingers hovered over his chest, “So, like, I don’t rule Raizen’s territory or nothing but... I make sure everything’s cool; like I’m not braggin’ or nothing but they do still consider me their boss.”
   “They always will,” Kurama said slowly. “They’re very... loyal to Raizen.”
   “I know, it’s sad.” Yusuke lamented before breaking off into a snort, “Those bald bastards. Anyway!” he continued on, “So I was talking with them a few days ago, just... checkin’ up on shit. And I asked Hokkoshin, I said, I need you to do me a favor. Cause they’ll never deny me anything!”
   “Oh dear,” Kurama said, unable to suppress a snicker.
   “What did you make that poor man do?” Keiko asked, her voice slow and loose from alcohol.
   “So I tell him, I say-...” Yusuke had to break off, because he was starting to laugh again, “I say, ‘I need you to go to the Alaric for me’.”
   Suddenly Kurama's eyes snapped open. He sat up, Kazuma’ hand falling slightly to the middle of his back as he looked warily at Yusuke. So much for being blissfully drunk.
   “... Yusuke,” Kurama said in warning, his tone sharp, “What are those pictures of?”
   Poor Keiko was confused. “What’s the Alaric?” she asked.
   “That's where Hiei lives,” Kurama explained.
   And suddenly, Kazuma absolutely had to see the pictures.
   “Yusuke!” Keiko cried out, she smacked Yusuke’s chest hard, the slap resounding across the room. Yusuke hissed in pain, but he was smiling wildly, “Did you harass Hiei? After everything he already endured?!"
   “Lemme see the pics!” Kazuma begged, “Oh please, please tell me they’re embarrassing!”
   “The reason we are partying tonight!” Yusuke said with a drawl before throwing the pictures face up onto the table, “Is because all is well. I have confirmable proof."
   There were four copies. Kazuma grabbed one at once and held it up close. Drunk though he was, he could tell they were of Hiei and a woman...
   ... Who was kissing him.
   Kazuma’s mouth dropped.
   She was not a typical kind of pretty, but she was pretty none the less. She was about Hiei's height, and well toned with muscle. Half her face was marred with scars, causing her to have to wear a glass eye covering as well as a strange metal piece over her ear. Yet the unscarred half of her face was lovely and sharp. Her good eye was closed, her lips firmly upon Hiei’s.
   Her arms were wrapped lovingly about him, one normal and about his shoulders. The other was robotic, a clear mechanical limb that held him tight by the waist. She wore the clothes of a fighter, and her auburn hair fanned about her face in the high wind of where ever they were. Kazuma had never seen a picture of Hiei looking so happy, of looking so... calm. Hiei’s hands were threaded through her hair, anchoring to him as his mouth plundered her own. It was the kind of kiss romantic movies tried to capture, the kind of kiss that could only come from loving someone entirely.
   Kazuma had kissed Kurama in much the same way before.
   “Hot damn,” Shizuru spoke up, holding Yukina close as she observed her own copy of the picture. “That's a reason to party!”
   “... Mukuro?” Kazuma asked, looking up at Yusuke expectantly.
   “Yep.” Yusuke grinned, and he made a vertical line to divide his face in half with a finger, “See what I mean? Kinda... right down the middle.”
   Kazuma looked down at the picture again. For some reason, he couldn’t look away.
   “... She’s... really pretty,” Kazuma murmured.
   “Well,” Kurama said, and Kazuma smiled at the jokingly touchy tone, “I’ll try not to take offense.”
   “No, no, no!” Kazuma laughed, before he could stop himself he kissed Kurama on the cheek, not caring if his sister was sitting feet away and watching. “No one’s more beautiful than you, baby! No one!”
   Kurama grinned, and Kazuma could feel the heat coming from his cheeks.
   “But we gotta- we gotta frame these pictures or something!” Kazuma urged, shaking the waxy paper at Yusuke. Yusuke was barely paying attention. Keiko was kissing his jaw again, her hand tracing the muscles of his abdomen. “We gotta have pictures of Hiei in our homes!”
   Shizuru was smiling at Yukina in such a way that he had never seen her smile at anyone before. Yukina looked truly happy, holding her picture tight. It seemed she would never let it go, nuzzling it weirdly.
   Shizuru placed the softest of kisses upon Yukina’s nose. Yukina’s face scrunched into a grin.
   “You can’t have someone in your family and not have a picture of them!” Kazuma said to Kurama, who was looking up at him so adoringly that Kazuma wished he could kiss him again.
   He stole a second kiss, and Kurama suddenly began to chew on his lip as he grabbed the back of Kazuma’s shirt.
   If only they were alone.
   Hell, if only Shizuru wasn’t sitting at the table; Kazuma might be willing to kiss Kurama in front of Yusuke but not Shizuru.
   “Tell you what!” Yusuke broke off, sitting up straighter to grab their overturned shot glasses. He took the bottle of tequila, noting it was nearly gone, and poured them all a shot.
   “To Hiei and Mukuro!” Yusuke toasted.
   Kurama grabbed his shot glass at once, throwing his back with a smile upon his face. Kazuma followed suit.
   He was framing this picture. He had to.

   “To fucking and fighting!” Yusuke cried out for another toast. Once again Kazuma had to take the drink.
   Shit, fighting and fucking had brought him the greatest pleasures of his life.
   “To you gettin’ your dick sucked!” Yusuke added with glee! Shizuru laughed aloud, raising her shot glass high.
   “URAMESHI!”
~*~
   After the club, Shizuru and Yukina went home; Shizuru had to work the next day, but there was something in the way that she kept a hand on Yukina’s bare back the entire time as they walked off that made Kazuma feel certain his sister wasn’t thinking of sleeping. It was so fucking weird to imagine his sister having sex that he had to suggest they go for a walk just so he could get his damn mind off of it. There was a park nearby, full of little vendors selling heart-attack food that sang a siren song to Kazuma in his drunken state.
   There was something about a hot dog with chili when he was drunk at three in the morning that just seemed so damn right.
   They headed towards the park, with Keiko skipping about on the street and dodging through the pedestrian traffic. Kurama was right behind her, for some reason delighting in the park as soon as he saw it. Kurama’s natural instincts were beckoning to him as much as the fast food was calling to Kazuma, and as soon as they entered the park Kurama removed his shoes to sit barefoot in the grass. Keiko was happy to collapse beside him, wanting to show him a trick she’d learned in grade school involving a blade of grass that you blew between your teeth. Kazuma bought a hot dog from a vendor who looked at him with slight concern as if to ask ‘what the hell are you doing up this early?’ while Yusuke settled for a huge batch of fries that he munched on with gusto. The pair of them leaned against the brick wall, eating as fast as they dared while watching Keiko and Kurama play in the underbrush.
   “So what was it like?” Yusuke asked, licking the salt off his greasy fingers.
   “Crazy," Kazuma murmured; he knew exactly what Yusuke was talking about. All topics were close to sex with Yusuke, “He is... the best. In the entire world."
   “Nah, can’t be better than Keiko.” Yusuke shook his head.
   “You wanna bet?” Kazuma teased, “I bet you money, hands down, Kurama is better than Keiko.”
   “Alright.” Yusuke suddenly had a maniacal grin, “We’ll have to have a little competition. They can suck our dicks at the same time. We’ll see who comes first.”
   “You are disgusting!” Kazuma laughed; Yusuke just shrugged with a blissful grin, eating fry after fry. Kazuma finished his hot dog and tossed the greasy wrapper into a nearby garbage bin, making a basketball shot that Yusuke rolled his eyes at.
   “Man..." Kazuma sighed. Something had been on his mind since Kurama had given him a blow job, and suddenly with Yusuke beside him he felt brave enough to talk about it. Who else could he talk to about such things besides Yusuke. He was far too embarrassed to talk to Kurama. “I feel like there’s something.... blockin’ me.”
   “Aww, hell,” Yusuke grumbled, “What now?”
   Kazuma chewed on his lip as Yusuke licked more salt from his fingers.
   They eyed one another.
   “... Be honest with me?” Kazuma asked.
   “Always.”
   “If I sucked a dick would that make me gay?”
   Yusuke did not look at him with disgust or irritation, instead mulling Kazuma’s words over in his mind. It seemed he understood Kazuma’s question, despite how queer it might have sounded.
   “No,” Yusuke said as he munched on a fry. “No, that would not make you gay.”
   “What would make me gay?”
   “You being afraid to suck a dick because you don’t wanna look ‘gay’,” Yusuke mocked quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “People keep saying ‘gay’ like it’s some stupid slur, but some of the strongest dudes I know are gay." At this, Yusuke nodded to Kazuma and Kurama over in the grass.
   Kazuma blushed.
   “You can’t be afraid to suck a dick,” Yusuke urged him. “I’m not afraid to suck a dick! I’ve sucked a dick!”
   Yusuke clapped a hand over his mouth, quite shocked at his drunken admittance. Kazuma could barely believe his ears either, and gaped at Yusuke as he slowly started eating fries again. Yusuke was trying hard not to meet his face; his eyes suddenly dark and haunted instead of gleeful and bright. Kazuma would have thought for certain Yusuke would be bragging, insisting he’d sucked a dick better than anyone else alive, but suddenly Yusuke’s mood had shifted.

   “Whose?” Kazuma asked as he mentally ran through every man they’d known together. Could it be a schoolmate? Or maybe someone Yusuke knew that Kazuma did not? Kazuma could remember being young and seeing Yusuke hanging around some dangerous looking men... their arms covered in elaborate family tattoos and their eyes shaded. They’d been cheery to Yusuke, all of them joking and sleazing about, but... something had been off. Kazuma’s father had always warned him flat out to never associate with men like that. Had always been sure to put himself physically in front of any gang member that tried to sweep Kazuma up in their lull. Yusuke’s father had been a no-show, a figure Kazuma had only seen twice in his life. Sharp chinned and sunken eyed, mean as a snake... a spitting image of Yusuke if Yusuke sold his soul to the devil.
   There had been no one to defend him. No one to block him from gang members or urge him into the house when the streets got dark.
   That sort of life seemed wild and fun when you were watching it from afar. Up close it was a nightmare.
   “... It was a long time ago.” Yusuke was trying to shake Kazuma’s concerned gaze, trying to appear aloof.
   It wasn’t working.
   “... How long ago?” Kazuma asked, his nerves apparent in his voice. Yusuke didn’t answer him, instead taking a swig of coke and looking away.
   “Long,” Yusuke murmured.
   A sudden cold wind blew through the park, boding the return of winter. Kazuma leaned a little into Yusuke, and Yusuke leaned back; the pair of them kept warm together. Over by the bench, Keiko was too busy braiding flowers into Kurama’s hair to care about the wind. Her bubbly mood was infectious, making Kurama smile pleasantly.
   For a brief moment, Kazuma caught Kurama's eye. It was strange, to remember Kurama’s mouth upon him in this moment when they were in public. He suddenly realized how indebted he was to Kurama, how much he wanted to do back to him.
   “... Don’t tell Keiko about that.” Yusuke said, bringing him back into the present. Kazuma had never heard Yusuke hold back from a sexual exploit, and it only served to unnerve him more. He could sense something dark in Yusuke’s mind, something nasty that didn’t belong there.
   “You’re scaring me,” Kazuma told him. Yusuke flashed him a cheesy smile, but it was weak and did little to sooth him.
   Kazuma watched him carefully.
   “Damn, I’m glad I... have control over my life, now. You know?” Yusuke said. Kazuma nodded, “I hate... feeling like I can’t control my life. I hate it so much.”
   Yusuke leaned into him a little more, “I looked at you when I was younger, and I saw someone who was always in control. I liked that.”
   “Well,” Kazuma scoffed, “I’ll take that as a massive compliment. I didn’t really control anything. I just rolled with the punches. That was your influence on me.”
   Roll with the punches... why not? If Kazuma was able to touch such a beautiful man, why not seize the situation to the fullest? Why be afraid? Why hold back?
   Yusuke was smiling at him, perhaps already knowing what Kazuma was thinking about.
   “I think I’m gonna try and... return the favor tonight,” Kazuma said, quite nervous.
   “Go for it.” Yusuke said, tucking his hands into his armpits as he leaned against the brick wall.
   But Yusuke’s voice was far too soft, and it kept making Kazuma nervous. He watched as Yusuke glanced at Keiko, only to look away and back down the opposite side of the ally. It was as if he was ashamed; it was so out of character Kazuma wanted to smack him just for old time's sake.
   He nudged Yusuke, making Yusuke smile.
   “Yusuke... that’s behind you," Kazuma said, “You know that right? You know you’re in charge now, right?”
   “Yeah,” Yusuke said, but there was a hollow edge to his voice Kazuma didn’t like.
   Kazuma looked back at Kurama; Kurama was watching him with slight interest. He kept on getting distracted by Keiko braiding his flowered hair.
   “Do you wanna pound my face in?” Kazuma offered to Yusuke.
   “...Nah,” Yusuke whispered. But as he smiled at Kazuma, Kazuma knew he’d said exactly what Yusuke needed to hear. It put the control back into Yusuke’s hands, and gave him the ability to inflict pain if he so chose. It was a very strange way to bring comfort but... it fit for them.
~*~
   “Well,” Kurama sighed, tossing his hair wildly about as he let his keys slip from his hands. “That was far too much fun. I may have to request a second outing.” He looked down at the picture of Hiei and Mukuro, wandering unsteadily around the bare apartment with interest.
   “Where shall we put it?” Kurama murmured aloud, “What about here?”
He made to set the picture above the mantel in the living room but missing it by a good six inches. The picture floated to the floor, but Kurama did not seem to notice.
“We could put all our pictures here,” Kurama said thoughtfully.
   Kazuma’s mind was still heavy with thoughts of Yusuke. He was suddenly thinking about how lewd Yusuke could be, about how he made such brassy and ugly sexual comments with ease. He could talk about eating his wife out in front of other people and never bat an eyelash. He was so open with his sexuality, so aware of who he was in it... was it just a part of his extroverted personality or was it something more? Who had told Yusuke that it was okay to make such lewd comments in his youth? Or God forbid had someone introduced him to that lifestyle before he was ready-?
   The thought made Kazuma want to pound in a complete stranger’s face, to bring vicious and cruel right to such a disgusting and low wrong. It was almost as if someone had done the damage to him instead of Yusuke.
   Kurama was heading into the bedroom. Kazuma followed him.
   “Urameshi said something to me tonight," Kazuma said as Kurama took up a hair tie and spun his hair into a loose bun.
   “I saw you two talking by the hot dog stand. He seemed sad,” Kurama said.
   Kazuma set his keys onto Kurama’s dresser, navigating around the boxes to shuck off his jacket in a corner pile where Kurama’s own jacket lay. There was no point in being neat when there was nowhere to put things. As soon as Kurama was unpacked, it would be a different story.
   “...I think something bad happened to him,” Kazuma murmured. His drunk mind wanted to do several things, including talk to Kurama about what Yusuke had said. Yet he couldn’t, not when Kurama’s tight black jeans were clinging so awfully well to his hips. Kazuma could not keep his eyes off Kurama’s backside, its delicious curve beckoning to Kazuma in ways that were inhuman.
   “What?” Kurama asked, looking over with slight concern. Kazuma shook his head.

   “I don’t know,” Kazuma admitted. “I’m gonna want to talk about it tomorrow when I’m not drunk. Are you drunk too?”
   “A little,” Kurama said, smiling vacantly even as he nearly tripped over an opened box of clothing.
   “Good,” he mumbled, hoping that Kurama being drunk would make this easier on him, “Cause I’m on a mission.”

Kurama was shedding clothes, flushed from their insane night out. As he attempted to pull his shirt over his head, he smacked himself in the face and snorted in drunken amusement. He continued to laugh as he tripped over his pants, half-hopping and half-stumbling about in an effort to extricate his legs. Kazuma watched every move, entranced by the vision before him, his gaze constantly straying down to Kurama’s thighs. When Kurama finally managed to remove his pants (with helpful support from the bedroom wall), Kazuma suddenly found himself incredibly nervous as he realized what he wanted to do, what he knew he needed to do to get over this fucking hump in his head.
   He had to suck Kurama’s dick. Tonight.
   The idea both thrilled and terrified him at the same time as he remembered every moment in his youth when a kid would get beat up for being ‘gay’ or a ‘faggot’. Kazuma had learned to defend himself from an early age, far too sensitive for some of the older bullies’ tastes; they’d quickly learned he was not a ‘faggot’ when Kazuma had knocked them flat on their asses. He’d barely been out of elementary school and fighting for his life; what a world they lived in. It had been so strange, to sit on his father’s lap and weep into his chest when he had been told earlier that day that boys didn’t cry, that real men were far too strong for such displays. His preconceptions of what men were supposed to be like were shattered when Kazuma’s mother had vanished.
   He could remember his father on his knees, screaming into his hands as the police tried to console him, tried to explain to him that they would find her.
   They never had.
   Takahashi had paid the price of being openly gay in high school, having to transfer in the middle of his sophomore year when the beatings became so bad that he was afraid of going to school. His parents had not been understanding, had only moved him because he’d managed to snag a scholarship to Kurama’s high school.
   Kazuma had always been afraid of what it meant to be gay, the sounds of Takahashi’s pleads and screams haunting his sleep as of late.
   But Yusuke Urameshi, the strongest man he’d ever known, had been on his knees before another man. Yusuke Urameshi, wild and proud, unbreakable in his madness, had been able to blow a guy without losing his masculinity. Why could Kazuma not do the same?
   He knew he had issues. He knew he had to face them. Who better to face them with than Kurama?

   Shit, Kurama had sucked his dick. That didn’t make Kurama any less of a man to Kazuma. Kurama could kill a bitch with what could be considered ‘extreme gardening’ by some. Kurama could put you on the floor and make you beg for death; that hadn’t changed with him blowing Kazuma. Why couldn’t Kazuma make the same move? He could turn it into an act of simply giving Kurama pleasure, of bringing Kurama to orgasm as a ‘thank you’ for the other day, but....
   No. No. That was all he had to do. Focus on Kurama, not himself.
   Kurama was watching him, a pleasantly curious, trance-like expression upon his face as he saw the look of terror Kazuma undoubtedly wore.

   “Just- just- no,” Kazuma spluttered.
Kurama’s smile fell, to be replaced with mild concern.
“Don’t, it’s not-“
   “Is something wrong?” Kurama asked. Kazuma could hear the nerves in Kurama’s voice, the fears so recently quelled starting to come back. Kazuma would not have Kurama thinking he’d done something wrong just because Kazuma was afraid of sucking dick.
   “I gotta... I gotta do this,” Kazuma blurted out. “I gotta get the fuck over this mental block. I gotta suck your dick.”
   Kurama burst out laughing, having to grasp at the wall to steady himself. But his laughter faded quickly when he caught a glimpse of Kazuma’s face and realized he was not trying to be funny.
   “What- Kazuma, are you serious?” Kurama demanded. “What on earth did Yusuke say to you?”
   “I got like- mental scars, man!" Kazuma snapped. He pulled his shirt off over head, tossing it in the corner of the room. “Scars from middle school. If you sucked a dick you were a fag and fags got the shit beat out of them. And I... I didn’t wanna get the shit beat outta me!” Kazuma was rambling, “But, Urameshi beat the shit out of me anyway, so I learned how to toughen up and then I think I got strong enough to challenge him, but I never stopped being afraid. I never stopped worrying that I wasn’t man enough, that I wasn’t strong enough- but I am strong enough!" Kazuma growled. Kurama’s eyes were calm upon him, but he was listening raptly.
   “I am a strong man; strong enough to please you.”
Kurama smiled at Kazuma’s words.
   “I’m gonna please you. Right now.” Kazuma’s heart was back to its race-track method as he dropped to his knees, grabbing Kurama by the backside and pulling him close. Kurama’s eyes widened significantly; it seemed that he had no idea what to think.
   “That’s a very moving speech, but are you sure?” Kurama asked, hands finding Kazuma’s shoulders as he steadied himself. “As much as I agree with your sentiments, you certainly don’t have to touch me in that way to please me-“
   “Yeah, but you sucked my dick,” Kazuma pointed out.
   “Well, I wanted to.”
   “Well I want to too, buddy!” Kazuma poked Kurama hard in the stomach with a finger.
   Kurama laughed, recovering from the poke with as much dignity as he could. “Do you really wish to do this?” he asked.

   “Yeah!” Kazuma said, suddenly feeling quite excited at the prospect. If he stopped treating it as some sort of punishment and started looking at it as a game, he could see himself winning. He could bring Kurama to his knees, just as Kurama had brought him to his knees. Maybe he wouldn’t have as much skill, but damnit he wouldn’t be lacking for enthusiasm!
   “Are you sure you want to, or are you-“
   “Shut up. I’m suckin’ your dick,” Kazuma snapped. He could feel the powerful heat radiating from the apex of Kurama’s thighs. He knew how to please himself, he could surely do the same for Kurama. Yet as he bravely reached forward and pulled Kurama’s length from the confines of his briefs, Kazuma suddenly faltered.

   He had no fucking idea what to do next.
   “I don’t know how but I want to pleasure you,” Kazuma said, quite embarrassed in his admittance. Kurama just smiled.

   “Remember what I did?” Kurama asked.
Kazuma groaned as he fisted Kurama’s cock, feeling the soft flesh stiffen at his touch. He nestled his face onto the smooth flat planes of Kurama’s stomach. “Vividly,” he grumbled.
Kurama laughed a little. “Do that,” he advised.
   “Okay.” Kazuma said, licking his lips. This was easy; he could do this. He just didn’t need to think while he did it.
   Fuck, this was going to be difficult.
   “And if you get stuck or scared,” Kurama murmured, “I’ll help you.”
   “Only you can give instructions while getting your dick sucked,” Kazuma tried for a joke, but the words were weak in his mouth. He knew what he had to do, as he stroked the smooth, now fully erect length. He knew what it physically took, and that he was capable of all of it... but dammit, what if he was shit at it? What if Kurama didn’t like what he was doing, and told him to stop? What if Kurama rethought their whole relationship because of it-?
   An icy dread began to fill his stomach.
   “Just... relax,” Kurama seemed to see the fear on his face, even from the weird angle that he now could view Kazuma from. Kurama reached out to softly put Kazuma’s ginger hair, stroking it sweetly as he buried his fingers deep into his locks. “You get so uptight, so afraid of things that will never happen. Relax.”
   Kurama wouldn’t leave him, even if he was horrible at this. Kazuma willed himself forward, closing his eyes-
   Kurama’s gasp frightened him, a sharp and deep breath emitting from Kurama’s mouth as Kazuma took his length in his mouth. He remembered how Kurama had made to stroke him as well, so he wrapped a hand around the base, positioning himself a little better as he used his other hand to support Kurama behind his back. At first it was a question of understanding what Kurama liked, of listening to the tiny breathes and moans that came first as the deep musky scent of Kurama’s body filled his nose and a salty tang swam in his mouth. He realized as he swirled his tongue that Kurama hitched a breath every time he licked the underside of his cock. If he pushed his tongue just right, and then used his thumb to add more pressure, Kurama made a tight noise and his fingers clenched in Kazuma’s hair.
   So that was what he liked. Kazuma had no other weapons in his arsenal... he was gonna abuse the hell out of this one.
   As he continued the assault with his tongue and thumb, he could feel a sweat beginning to appear like a light film upon Kurama’s back. Kurama’s flesh was hot and pounding in his mouth, blood rushing to his lower regions as Kazuma held him tighter by the waist. Kurama’s knees, already unsteady to begin with, were beginning to quake.
   Kazuma felt a burst of confidence: He was making Kurama weak kneed while giving him a blow job.
   Kazuma pulled back for a moment when he realized that he was practically holding Kurama up (not that he minded) and looked up to see an incredibly seductive sight: sweat had coated Kurama’s face, making long strands of red hair stick to his cheeks. His eyes were hooded and glazed, his lips lightly parted as he panted. It seemed he had no idea where he was, as if control was slowly slipping away.
   “Maybe you should be sitting?” Kazuma asked.
   Kurama nodded weakly and stumbled backward onto his bed, shuddering as Kazuma leaned over his lap to gently blow across his wet, hardened flesh. Kurama barely suppressed a whimper, but Kazuma still heard it, and smiled at Kurama as he returned to his prior assault.
   Kurama let out a deep moan, the first true noise of the whole encounter, and buried his hands tight in Kazuma’s hair.
   Kazuma had no idea if certain forms or movements were considered better blow job etiquette. He did not know if he looked attractive, here between Kurama’s legs with his shirt off and a dick in his mouth. All that he knew was that he loved Kurama, and that he wanted to bring Kurama heights of ecstasy he’d never known before. If a certain move made Kurama moan, he was gonna use it. If Kurama had a fantasy he wanted to act out, Kazuma would take the main role. It was just that simple.
   “St- stop now, or I’m...gonna...” Kurama could barely speak, his words wavering, voice jumping octaves only to settle into a low groan.
   Kazuma knew what Kurama was trying to say, but he didn’t care. He’d gone way too far at this point to get scared. If he was man enough to suck a dick then he was man enough to swallow.
   Kurama suddenly threw back his head, exposing his long pale throat as he cried out- a hot fluid filled Kazuma’s mouth. It was so unexpected that he didn’t have time to swallow; he ended up choking. His eyes burned as he wiped his mouth, feeling incredibly foolish as he held onto Kurama for dear life.
   He laid his face upon Kurama’s thigh, utterly embarrassed. Kurama was weak, unable to articulate his feelings but still running his hands through Kazuma’s hair. Kazuma was certain that he had done horribly, certain that he had just given the worst blow job in the history of blow jobs-
   “I sucked,” Kazuma whispered bitterly into Kurama’s thigh.
   Kurama just stroked his hair, his hands straying to his shoulders to massage the muscles there. “Wasn’t that the point?” Kurama tried for a joke.
   Kazuma looked up at Kurama, not knowing whether to laugh along or beg for a merciful punishment after such a ridiculous performance. Yet Kurama was smiling at him, flushed but pleased, his green eyes filled with mirth.

   “If you had truly been terrible, why on earth would I have orgasmed?”
   Kazuma flushed; Kurama’s logic was difficult to beat.
   Kurama leaned down and kissed him upon the forehead. The action was cool and sweet, Kurama’s hair suddenly tickling his back as his long locks spilled down Kazuma’s broad shoulders.
   “You’re gorgeous,” Kurama whispered into his skin.
   Kazuma blushed.
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Into the Gray