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
- 5
- 6
- 7
One Week Out:

The afternoon sun was smooth and reddening steadily as it slipped nearer to the horizon where clouds waited to catch it in a warm blanket. Spring was coming, though snow was still on the ground, and for the first time in a long time Kazuma didn’t need to wear his gloves. With his bare hands un-apprehended, Kazuma could allow his fingers to trail across the flesh of Kurama’s palm, smiling timidly when Kurama curled his slim fingers around Kazuma’s thicker ones. Those beautiful almond fingernails showed no blemish or scar from the pain they’d previously endured; Kurama’s hands were incredible, so strong and yet so elegant. The perfect size and shape to hold a whip. Kazuma could see now why Kurama used one as a weapon.
   Kurama smiled, and Kazuma could not help but feel a huge confidence boost at the thought that though they had both ordered drinks neither of them had taken a sip in the past twenty minutes. They’d been too busy in the corner of the cafe holding hands and simply talking to one another.
   A week had passed since the “train-block” incident as Kazuma referred to it. He’d taken his test the very next day, elated, and his joy had only grown when he’d woken up this morning with an email in his inbox alerting him to his acceptance into the senior class of Architecture and Design School.
   He was going to be an architect and Kurama was holding his hand. Could the day get any fucking better?
   “I gotta admit...” Kazuma murmured in response to Kurama’s last question of ‘how long’, “I... I really liked you for a long time.”
   “How long?” Kurama repeated, smiling as Kazuma blushed a little with a slight snort. There was no point in hiding his attraction now. Kurama knew and even reciprocated. Kazuma delighted himself with playing his fingers over Kurama’s hand, marveling at the shape of his lovely wrist. My god was there anything flawed about him? Kazuma didn’t think so.
   “Since about... a few months after you returned from demon world,” Kazuma admitted.
   “Oh my god,” Kurama scoffed, light shock creeping into his face as he stared at Kazuma with his mouth open. “That was... over seven years ago.”
   “Yeah. Well.” Kazuma could not help but agree. He’d waited far too long. Seven years wasted, and why? Because he’d been full of fear and self-denial. What a crap excuse for missing out on seven years of Kurama. Kurama’s shock was clear upon his beautiful face, his mouth unable to close as he took that knowledge in.

   “You never thought to tell me?” Kurama asked. “Not even once?” The incredulity in his voice could not be hidden. Kurama was genuinely dumbfounded for the first time that Kazuma had known him.
   ‘“I honestly didn’t think you’d like me back,” Kazuma admitted. “I’m not really that... good looking or interesting-“
   But Kurama squeezed his hand, and Kazuma’s heart jolted as a coy grin crept across Kurama’s sweet face.
   “Did I ever say that?” Kurama asked.
   Kazuma blushed.
   “...No,” Kazuma’s voice was more hoarse than usual, and he coughed several times as Kurama suddenly interlaced their fingers, making sure to catch Kazuma’s eyes in his own. Once again, the sun was hitting the top of Kurama’s cheeks and spilling into the deep green of his irises. His eyes were practically glittering.
   “Then don’t put those words in my mouth.” He seemed to know what he was doing to Kazuma as he delicately began to chew on his bottom lip, a new smile curving across his face.
   Kazuma put his chin in the palm of his free hand, shaking his head as he marveled at Kurama.
   Despite the beauty of the scene he sat in, Kazuma’s ears alerted him to a familiar voice as the door to the coffee shop opened and two new customers walked in. He looked over his shoulder, momentarily pulled from his reverie on Kurama to see Takahashi coming through the door with a taller man at his side who held the door open to let him pass. Takahashi was looking about, perhaps for a free table, but when he saw Kazuma in the corner with Kurama his smile suddenly took a dastardly turn and he made a beeline for them both through the packed coffee shop floor.
   “Oh, damn,” Kazuma whispered, grabbing a menu of offered pastries to hide his face behind it.
   Kurama looked up, seeing Takahashi coming over, and shook his head with a sad smile as Kazuma tried to hide his hulking frame in the corner.
   “I think he already saw you,” Kurama murmured, gently taking the menu from Kazuma’s hand and setting it back down. Kazuma returned his chin to his hand, readying himself for yet another embarrassing conversation as he rolled his eyes and sighed.
   “Yep,” Kazuma agreed.
   Takahashi approached their table with a slight jaunt in his walk, his friend behind him and looking quite curious as to why Takahashi was delighted.
   “Well, hello...” Takahashi greeted Kazuma, bright eyes roving back and forth between Kurama, Kazuma, and where their hands were interlaced upon the table. Kazuma turned his chin in his palm to glare at Takahashi, wishing the little twit would bugger off already. Couldn’t he see he was busy?

   “Am I interrupting?” Takahashi locked his arms over his chest, beaming at Kazuma.
   “Yes.”
   “No.”
   Both he and Kurama had answered at the same time, and when Kazuma looked at Kurama, Kurama just shrugged with a sweet smile.
   Just like Kurama to entertain Takahashi with his beautiful presence. If only Kurama was meaner, maybe they could have a moment to themselves.
   “I see...” Takahashi drawled. He looked Kurama up and down, his smile disappearing for one second, “I feel like I know you.” Takahashi murmured, tapping his finger to his chin in thought, “But I have to ask straight away, are you a gardener?’
   Kazuma’s cheeks flushed with blood, and he seethed at Takahashi who seemed to understand just who he was looking at now.
   Before Kurama could answer, Takahashi’s friend spoke up.
   “Minamino?” The man was quite surprised, and so was Kurama as he briefly broke his hold on Kazuma’s hand to shake the man’s own. The pair of them were smiling at each other, clearly already aware of who the other way.
   “Naito. How nice to see you,” Kurama greeted him. When their hands let go, Kurama relaxed back into his chair again though he did not make to hold Kazuma’s hand. Kazuma wished to god Naito had not walked up; but a sudden wave of delight jumped through him as Kurama suddenly ran a finger gently over his hand.
   Kazuma made a move, filled with courage from Kurama’s touch, and resumed their hold. Kurama glanced at him, eyes sparkling.
   So he liked it when Kazuma initiated things, did he? Kazuma would have to remember that.
   “Do you two know each other?” Takahashi asked delightedly, fingering from Kurama to Naito.
   “Yeah, and you know him too!” Naito assured Takahashi, who waited with rapid interest, “Shuichi Minamino was a prodigy back in magnet school. When you transferred he was the class secretary.”
   “Oh, that’s right!” Takahashi beamed in delight, “You were the one who was always facing with Kaito in legacy tournaments!”
   “Indeed, you know me well,” Kurama agreed with a light chuckle. “And to answer your question earlier, yes. I am a gardener.”
   “I see...” Takahashi drawled, looking over at Kazuma and waggling his eyes. His smile was becoming devilish again, as he and Kazuma stared one another down.
   ‘Yes, it’s him!’ Kazuma wanted to snarl at Takahashi, ‘Now go away!’
   “Well I’m Takahashi.” Takahashi said, and for the second time Kazuma’s hold on Kurama’s hand was broken as the two shook.
   “A pleasure to meet you,” Kurama said.
   “I’ve been speaking with Kuwabara for quite some time about feelings he has for someone,” Takahashi was even in tone but there was a smile playing across his face that could not be denied . Kazuma groaned, suddenly happy that Kurama wasn’t holding his hand as he buried his face in both his palms. “I’ve been trying to get him to make a move and get more comfortable with flirting. I’m hoping by seeing you here that means he has?”
   Kurama laughed, and Kazuma could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

   “Will you quit?” Kazuma growled around his hands, glaring up at Takahashi who just winked at him. Naito was likewise chuckling under his breath, perhaps already aware of Takahashi’s openness.
   “One could say as much,” Kurama answered, a light blush upon his cheeks as he smiled at Takahashi. “Though it is personal in nature.”
   “Good.” Takahashi’s tone was strong and warm. “It was about damn time.”
   “Allow me to be the polite one,” Naito broke across Takahashi, and Kazuma noted that Takahashi was holding hands with Naito- could it be that they were together? “May we join you for coffee?”
   Kurama looked at Kazuma and smiled in question.
   Kazuma shrugged, still rather irritated that their little date was being interrupted (was this a date? Could he call it that and get away with it?), but he knew it would be impolite to decline when there were no other free tables.

   “Sure.” Kazuma said. Takahashi practically skipped back to the counter, his grin unstoppable as he kept casting glances back at Kazuma and Kurama. Naito was behind him, slightly pressed against him as he gave his order to another barista.
   Kazuma noted the hand on Takahashi’s back, the gentle squeeze there, loving and understanding. Takahashi looked over his shoulder, a sweet smile creeping across his face as he tilted his face a little closer to Naito. Naito winked at Takahashi, squeezing his back again.
   They were in love. He could see it now.
   “Don’t start,” Kazuma grumbled with a smile as Kurama wrapped his hand back tightly in Kazuma’s own. Kurama squeezed his hand with a tutting noise in mock disappointment.
   “So, strangers know and I don’t know,” Kurama remarked, his voice light and playful.
   “It-“ Kazuma cut himself off and started again, “I knew him in high school before he transferred.”
   “I see...” Kurama nodded, “And you were going to him for advice?”
   Kazuma flushed, raising as eyebrow sulkily at Kurama as Kurama began to chew at his lip again.
   Kurama knew what he was doing.
   “I was stuck,” Kazuma grumbled. Kurama’s body lurched a little like he was laughing, though no sound came out as he continued to chew on his lip.
   “Did he tell you to write the note?” Kurama asked.
   “He came up with the idea of me... writing you something,” Kazuma said. “I came up with the note.”
   Kurama looked from Kazuma to their interlocked hands, and his free one began to trace patterns upon the goose pebbles of Kazuma’s muscled arm. Those lovely fingers, trailing upon his arm, as Kurama observed his flesh like it was a map he’d been bidden to memorize.
   “Then I like him already.”
Kazuma flushed with pleasure.

One Month Out:
   Kazuma still could not say out loud that Kurama was his boyfriend, but damn if it wasn’t getting hotter by the day. Architecture school, which filled his days with intense delight as he perfected his portfolio and prepared for graduation, was put to a dull back burner every night as he returned home and allowed his thoughts to become entranced in all things Kurama. Kazuma had sat a picture of Kurama on his beside table, allowing himself to look deep into those entrancing green eyes each night as he fell asleep only to wake up to them the next morning. It was pleasing to his senses, and put him in a damn good mood that could only be topped by Kurama himself appearing when Kazuma sent him the text alerting to him taking the metro. They met all about the city, taking walks in the park, getting coffee, even going on a date to the local arboretum on the outside of town that made for toe-curling evening when Kurama had kissed him underneath a dormant cherry tree and caused it to bloom prematurely. Yet it was these moments at night that Kazuma loved best, when it was close to midnight and his cell phone was on his drafting table as he finished up another round of sketches for his senior final. He’d down a jack and coke, allowing the soft tunes of local jazz groups to fill his cramped apartment as he texted back and forth with Kurama. The hours ticked by, his drafting sketches filled up, and Kazuma was sent upon a buzz that could not be diminished.
   This building was coming together piece by piece; Urameshi was going to lose his shit when he saw it. Kazuma could hardly wait.
   Kazuma’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out at once, only to grin.
   “I drove past your apartment and saw your light was still on. What are you doing up?”
   Kazuma looked at his alarm clock on the far bookshelf, noting that it showed the time to be past one in the morning. So Kurama was out and driving around; was he thinking about Kazuma? The thought made him giddy as he answered back.
   “Working on this damn sketch. It’s a surprise. Wanna come see?” Kazuma waited for Kurama’s answer as he finished his jack and coke, looking about his apartment. Now that he thought about it, he probably shouldn’t have invited Kurama over when the place looked like crap; papers were everywhere and cat toys were all over the floor. Kazuma glared at Eikichi who sat curled up on his sofa, a catnip chew in her paws. That damn cat was going to be the death of him. He probably had dishes in the sink to; it wouldn’t be good for Kurama to see that and think he was a slob-
   “Hardly a surprise for long if I see it,” Kurama replied.
   Kazuma chuckled aloud, talking to himself as he texted back.
   “Oh, baby, do you wanna see it?” Kazuma murmured. “Don’t tease me now.”
   “Not for you.” Kazuma replied, “Yusuke.”
   “Now I’m curious. I’ll turn around. Be there in ten.”
   Kazuma cursed, setting his phone down as he looked about his apartment. There wasn’t much he could do in ten minutes but still he tried. He popped a breath mint as he kicked a couple of cat toys back into their respective basket, checking his sink for dirty dishes to clear it of a few plates. His timing was perfect, for when he set the last glass aside to dry he heard the doorbell buzz and wiped his hands clean. His heart danced as he turned down his jazz music (it didn’t help the song was soft to begin with, Kurama would probably think he was trying to seduce him), and as he answered the door he could not help but break into a grin at the sight he found on the other side.
   Kurama in that stupid coat; the one with white fur at the collar that he absolutely loved, smiling at him with his hands lightly tucked into his tight pockets.
   “Surprise for Yusuke?” Kurama greeted him, and before Kazuma could answer Kurama was across the threshold, closing the door behind him as he leaned into Kazuma’s muscular build. Kazuma instinctively wrapped a hand around Kurama’s waist, breathing in the delightful scent of tea tree and gardenia- Kurama kissed him ever so lightly, his lips toying with Kazuma’s soul as he smiled into their touch.
   “Come take a look,” Kazuma said.
   He helped Kurama out of his coat, Kurama stepping out of his shoes as he followed Kazuma into his living room. Eikichi was up, yawning and stretching as she rolled about on the head of the couch.
   “My god, you’ve been busy.” Kurama sounded impressed as he observed all of Kazuma’s paperwork, heading over to couch first as he plucked up Eikichi to hold her tight to his chest. Kazuma wished he had a camera, the sight was so endearing to him; Kurama kissed the top of Eikichi’s head, rubbing her lovingly as she began to purr loudly into his hold. Eikichi had always been a sucker for attention.

   “My goodness, you’ve gotten so big, Eikichi.” Kurama’s tone took on a baby like quality, charming Kazuma as he nuzzled his face into Eikichi’s coat.
   “Yeah, she eats well,” Kazuma snorted. “Better than me.”
   “Well, that’s not fair.” Kurama pulled back, still using his baby voice as he tutted to Eikichi. “Why are you stealing all the food? Why, hmm?”
   Eikichi had no answers, still purring loudly.
   “You won’t get any answers out of her. Trust me, I’ve tried. Come check this out.”
   Kurama sat Eikichi back on the couch (who promptly jumped off to trot over to Kurama and rub lovingly against his calves), coming over to Kazuma’s drafting table to observe his blueprints. Kurama sucked in a breath, entranced as he thumbed through the extensive sheets. Kazuma flushed with pride, glad to know that what little genius he had was showing. Hopefully Kurama would think he smart if he saw how well he excelled in architecture. He wanted Kurama to proud of him, to see his talents.
   Even if they were few and far between.
   “So for my senior portfolio, in order to graduate, I have to create a building. It’s my biggest assignment, a massive project that encompasses everything I’ve learned. Since I passed advanced placement, I can go on ahead and start. I’m making Yusuke and Keiko a big, beautiful, restaurant.”
   “Oh, Kazuma!” Kurama gasped as he realized what he was looking at, “This is wonderful!” He beamed at Kazuma, now studying the drawings more intensely as Kazuma laid down a finger and began to trace over the thick white ink.
   “It’ll be three stories. The first floor in the dining quarters, massive kitchen, essentially the public viewing area. It’ll have four patios, and a back drop area where bands can perform.” Kazuma pointed to each feature respectively. Kurama nodded, following every word intently.
   “This is going to be incredible,” Kurama murmured. Kazuma flipped to the next page, allowing the first to drape loosely over the top of his drafting table. These pages were so large, they almost went off the sides.
   “Yeah, I wanna include a fish tank somewhere too. But I’ll get to that later. Second floor, only accessible by one set of stairs, right here,” Kazuma pointed to a back hallway that would be hidden from regular customers, “Has to be triggered by an coding system. Clients... demon and human alike.”
   The keyword was ‘demon’ and Kurama nodded in knowing as he followed along.
   “For his detective work. Perfect.” Kurama flashed a smile at Kazuma, prompting him to continue.
   “Exactly. It’s going to include three rooms, one will be an office, one will be a meeting room, one will be a salon where you can sit down and wait. Now, hidden behind a secret wall will be the final stair case that takes you to the living quarters where Yusuke and Keiko will live. Check this out-“ Kazuma flipped to the final page which would be the third story, “Full entry way, living room, dining room with open access kitchen. A huge backdoor patio that overlooks the outside, it has a pool!” Kazuma added gleefully, fully intending to get Kurama into that pool the minute it was summertime. “Then you have of course their bedrooms, sun rooms, and bathrooms respectively. Not a bad pad to live in, eh?” He pulled back the first two pages, smoothing them out as Kurama simply shook his head in shock.
   Kurama could not stop smiling. He was truly impressed; Kazuma could tell.
   “This... is amazing,” Kurama gloated, wrapping a hand around Kazuma’s waist as another draped ever so lightly across his chest. “Yusuke is going to lose his mind when he sees this.”
   “Yeah well-“ Kazuma shrugged, encouraged by the praise, “Urameshi’s had a hard life. me and Keiko know that well. I wanna give him something, something that he can relax into. Something that can allow him to settle and breathe. God only knows he works himself up when he gets going.” Kazuma shook his head, thinking back on Yusuke in their youth.
   That really hadn’t changed now that he was an adult. Fuck, they were adults. That was shocking. But he was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Kurama was looking up at him with such an adoring expression that Kazuma suddenly forgot to breath.
   “You’re so caring,” Kurama whispered, his breath sweet and ghosting upon Kazuma’s face. Kazuma flushed, stuttering as Kurama’s arm tightened around his waist. His hand pressed more intensely upon Kazuma’s chest, his nose nearly brushing against Kazuma’s own.
   Did Kurama know all that he did to Kazuma? Was he aware of how enticing he was?
   “Well, I mean,” Kazuma mumbled, lost in the moment as he gazed into Kurama’s eyes. “I’m not nearly as good as getting the job done as you.”
   Kurama made a noise of disbelief. “I am hardly as compassionate to the suffering of others.”
   “Uh... you must be talking about a different Kurama, because the one I know is absolutely amazing and can do no wrong.”
   But Kurama’s expression suddenly grew sad, and Kazuma cupped his cheeks at once, thumbing the pads of his fingers over the supple flesh he found there.
   “I’m afraid I must be.” Kurama tried for a small smile. Kazuma just shook his head.
   He kissed Kurama, wanting to show him how much he made Kazuma feel. Yet even as he kissed Kurama, feeling the hand upon his chest begin to slip up and around his muscled neck, Kazuma could not help but speak.
   “I cannot believe I get to kiss you,” he whispered into Kurama’s mouth.
   Kurama smiled, opening his mouth a little, and suddenly their kiss became passionate.
   Jazz drifted soft and slow in the air, the lights of his apartment dim against the dark night just outside the curtains. Here and now, wrapped in Kurama’s arms, he was a different man. He was strong and smart, the hero of his childhood fantasies that even Urameshi could look up to. As he kissed Kurama deep, allowing Kurama to swallow his mouth whole, their hearts began to beat in tandem. Kazuma could feel the delighted dance as he slipped his hands down from Kurama’s cheeks to wrap them lovingly around his back. Suddenly his very existence, his very life, was waiting upon Kurama’s being as he buried a hand in Kurama’s hair and cupped his slim neck. He massaged the flesh there, threading his fingers through the silky dark strands he found.
   ... Kurama pulled him down into the gray.


   About an hour later, Kazuma found himself on his couch with his shirt halfway undone, his neck and torso covered with kisses and a dopey grin on his face as Kurama played with Eikichi and allowed her to curl up in his lap. Kurama would stare about his living room every so often, taking in the band posters on the wall and all the records he owned, but his fingers never left Kazuma’s arm, playing along the curves of his muscles.
   Kazuma was started to see that Kurama liked his muscles. It filled him with pride, and he found himself wanting to increase his workout routine in the hope of getting stronger.
   “You have so many posters,” Kurama suddenly spoke up, shaking his head with a light smile. “You really like music.”
   “Well, my dad’s a record producer,” Kazuma explained, enjoying the feeling of Kurama’s head on his chest with his arm wrapped around the back of Kurama’s shoulders. “He signed these guys. I knew them before they were bands. They’re my collection of cool people.”
   Yet Kazuma’s poster collection was not limited to his living room; his best posters were in his bedroom where company could not see them. He wondered what Kurama would think if he knew...

   “They’re not my pride and joy though, I’ll tell you that right now.”
   “What is?” Kurama asked, looking up at him from his chest. Eikichi yawned, changing positions as she stretched upon their laps.
   “... You wanna see?” Kazuma asked. Kurama’s smile was growing again, sensing the playfulness behind Kazuma’s words.

   “I do.”
   Kazuma shrugged, a dopey grin upon his face as he got up from the couch and pulled Kurama along. Eikichi yowled in complaint, clearly irritated at losing her bed. Kazuma sent her an apologetic look, pulling Kurama by the hand down his short hallway to the close door of his bedroom.
   “Okay, well, it’s in my bedroom, so don’t freak out. I have to hide it from company,” Kazuma explained.
   “Oh, dear. Should I be afraid?” Kurama asked, asked Kazuma opened the door. His bedroom was neat, simply because Kazuma was a neat person and he generally kept it tidied up. The poster in question hung upon his far wall, and as soon as Kurama saw it he gasped.
   “Oh my god!” Kurama laughed, slipping from Kazuma’s hand as he walked openly into Kazuma’s bedroom and stared up at the poster: “64th Annual Dark Tournament: Hanging Neck Island... Grudge Match: Team Toguro vs. Team Urameshi!”
   Kazuma had received it as a Christmas present years ago from Yusuke, and had kept it framed in his bedroom ever since. A massive spread, showing the four head-shots of each team member on the top and bottom, faded hot colors promising for a blood bath and an ultimate show down. It was in fantastic condition save for the fact that Kazuma had often used Elder Toguro’s head shot as a dart board so that it was now peppered with holes from his excellent tosses.
   “How did you find this?” Kurama demanded, reaching up to touch the poster in delight, “Look at us... Look at me.” Kurama snorted. “I’m so scrawny compared to the three of you.”
   “Yeah,” said Kazuma sarcastically, looking Kurama up at down; the curve of his backside, the smooth plains of his stomach and thighs, his beautiful dark red hair almost black in the cool blue hue of Kazuma’s unlit bedroom. “When I look at you, I see scrawny.”
   What he actually saw was a fucking supermodel, but he was keeping that thought to himself.
   Kurama smiled at him, but his smile turned into a sneer when he touched Karasu’s headshot. “Ugh. There’s a face I never want to see again.”
   “I can throw darts at him if that makes you feel better?” Kazuma offered. Kurama winked at him.
   “Elder Toguro is covered in holes as well,” Kurama noted.
   “I dart him the most,” Kazuma said vehemently. He couldn’t help himself, he really hated that prick. He hoped he was still rotting in that cave where Kurama had left him.
   “But you don’t dart Bui or younger Toguro,” Kurama said, touching the paper with his slim fingers.
   “No.” Kazuma shrugged, and why should he? As far as he was concerned, the younger Toguro had just wanted to fight the ultimate fight, to die the ultimate death at Urameshi’s hands... and Bui had been a slave.
   “I’m glad,” Kurama admitted, running a finger over younger Toguro’s stoic face. “Bui did not deserve what he received. I’m glad Hiei spared him.”
   As he turned away from the poster, his eyes caught sight of a picture that Kazuma had been hoping he wouldn’t notice.

   She sat upon his dresser, framed in modest black and kept in the shinto way of the dead. An unlit candle sat waiting by her headshot, waiting to be lit when Kazuma would one day get that call.
   It would come when he was least expecting it, or so he feared, the knowledge of his mother’s passing falling upon his shoulders before he could prepare himself for it.
   “Who’s that?” Kurama asked, noting the unlit candle with sensitive care.
   “... That’s my mother.” Kazuma said. He wondered if Kurama would hear the cold pain in his voice, well hidden after years of practice. Kurama walked closer, scrutinizing his mother’s face in the dark: her long face framed by loose copper curls that hung past her shoulders, her haunted dark eyes, lined with nights of unease. Her lips, smooth but firm... Kazuma could remember being a child and feeling those lips upon his brow, holding onto her arm tightly lest she slip away.
   One night, Kazuma had woken up too soon, and reached for his mother.
   But he’d reach on for years, never to know her touch again.
   She’d vanished into thin air.
   “... I don’t know where she is,” Kazuma said. Kurama shot him a hesitant glance, perhaps wondering if the subject was too tender to broach in the youth of their relationship. Still, Kazuma was an honest person and he didn’t mind Kurama knowing. The only people who knew about his mother were Shizuru and Yusuke respectively.
   Shizuru already knew what he knew. Yusuke did not ask out of respect for what Kazuma did not want to talk about.
   “... She had incredible awareness. Incredible. But she couldn’t control it. They diagnosed her with schizophrenia because of all the demons she saw, all the ghosts. She ran away, to keep from being institutionalized. I haven’t seen her in years... sometimes she’ll call. But she’s so far gone, she’s hardly the woman she once was. Shizuru basically raised me. Dad was... occupied. It fucked him up.” Kurama’s frown deepened as Kazuma explained, “He really loved her. It’s weird, I know she’s my mother, but I don’t... I don’t know. She’s more like an old friend I worry about than my mother.”
   Kurama looked down at his carpet floor for a moment before glancing back up.
   “I understand completely.”
   Kazuma sighed, aware of the fact that Shiori, while Kurama’s human mother, was not his actual mother. He wondered who Kurama’s real mother was, and what had happened to her. While he knew about Kurama’s past life as demon, it didn’t really bother him. Kurama had turned over a new leaf, and the Kurama in human form was the Kurama he knew. The Kurama that mattered. Yet before Kazuma could ask Kurama the question of his original parents, Kurama spotted another picture in his room, one that Kazuma had equally prayed for him not to notice.
   “Is that... a picture of me by your bed?” Kurama asked, incredulous. Kazuma’s cheeks flooded with an intense heat as he garbled for words, seeing the intense look in Kurama’s eyes turn hot with pseudo anger.
   Kurama was grinning deviously and it was doing nothing for his nerves.
   “Aha!” Kurama walked over to the picture, mindless of Kazuma’s chitter, “Ah- well- you see-“ Kurama picked the picture up, shaking his head.
   “... When was this taken?” Kurama asked, observing himself upon the brick wall, smiling and laughing gayly with Urameshi and Keiko. It had been a hot summer day about a year ago, and the entire group had gone out for a day in the park. They’d eaten ice cream and lounged about until Urameshi had pulled out a water gun and attacked Kazuma.
   Mercifully, Keiko had brought along several other water guns, and by the end of the outing Urameshi had gotten his damn payback. Ten fold.
   “You took it when I wasn’t looking,” Kurama noted, rather humored.
   “...Yeah,” Kazuma mumbled. “I... You looked so beautiful. God, you must hate me-“ He blushed, suddenly furious at himself. He should have asked for Kurama’s permission before taking the picture, but damnit Kazuma was certain he’d have said no-
   “I don’t hate you,” Kurama corrected him with a terse smile. “But do you really want a picture of me that badly?”

   “More than anything.”
   Kurama set the picture back down on the bedside table. He raised an eyebrow, elegant and handsome, and Kazuma had to breathe deeply to control his hammering heart.
   “Okay then,” Kurama said as he grabbed Kazuma’s hand and pulled him out of his dark bedroom and once more into the bright living room. Kazuma’s cell phone was still upon his drafting table, and Kurama pressed it into his hands before sitting back down on the couch and allowing Eikichi to settle into his lap again.
   “Well...” Kurama toyed as Kazuma looked from the phone in his hands to Kurama on the couch, “Go on.”
   “Are you really okay with this?” Kazuma was mystified, for he’d never known Kurama to be eager about pictures.
   “If you’re going to have a picture of me, I need to be looking at the camera.” Kurama was smiling, and Kazuma snorted in disbelief as Kurama relaxed into the couch and ran a hand absent-mindedly through his dark hair.
   Kazuma opened up the camera on his iPhone.
   “Just so we’re clear,” Kazuma said, lining up the shot, “Every picture you take is stunning.”
   “If you say so,” Kurama murmured, holding Eikichi close. Kazuma took the picture, unable to keep from sighing as he saw the captured shot.
   “Oh, yeah,” Kazuma said, “I’m framing that one.”

   “Good.” Kurama reached out and grabbing his half opened shirt. Kazuma been so busy looking at his phone that he hadn’t seen it coming and suddenly fell upon the couch with a gasp.
   Their faces were close together; Kazuma swallowed timidly as the tips of Kurama’s fingers touched his bare chest.
   He was going to die on this couch.
   “The other picture was blurry and silly,” said Kurama, grinning mischievously. “Replace it with that one.”
   “Hey, don’t call that picture silly,” Kazuma said, unable to keep from flirting as Kurama’s hands ghosted over his abs. “It made my heart race every time I looked at it.”
   “And the real thing? The here and now?” Kurama asked.
   His hands rested at the waist band of Kazuma’s jeans which suddenly felt far too hot and tight for his own good. Kurama’s nose was touching his own, his lips barely upon his flesh, “What does this do for you?”
   “Nothing compares,” was all Kazuma could whisper back.
   Kurama kissed him languid and deep, and suddenly Kazuma’s lap was full of Kurama as he pressed himself into Kazuma’s chest.
   He didn’t get much sleep that night.

Four Months Out:
   The construction of Yusuke’s restaurant was extremely difficult to undertake without Yusuke getting wind, and frankly Kazuma was terrified that his best friend was going to find out before the surprise party in three months when the building would be complete. Backed by school funding and spurred onward with Kurama’s love, Kazuma worked like a devil through the night to get the restaurant ready but was constantly under stress as deadlines began to push. He was building at incredible speed, breaking records (or so his professor’s praised) but Kazuma thought nothing of it. He wasn’t trying to impress, he was just hyper focusing... and the image of Yusuke’s eyes lighting up when he saw the restaurant kept him motivated well into the night.
   At present, he stood amid the chaos of the first floor, going over design changes as he waited patiently for Kurama to bring him lunch. Spring had finally arrived, and he now could go without coat and gloves when taking Kurama out to dinner or to the movies. Three months ago, Kazuma had been quite unsure of their relationship and what it meant, but as time wore on and their connection intensified, Kazuma was certain he could call Kurama his boyfriend. The concept baffled him, utterly delighted him, and he could not keep from smiling when he heard Kurama’s voice echoing across the as-yet empty first floor as he stepped through the plastic dividers and skirted around the construction workers laying down dry wall.
   “Here I am, bag boy!” he called out to Kurama, whose hands were full of plastic bags as he stepped around newly finished dry wall to join Kazuma at the mobile drafting table. Kazuma looked about, finding them alone for the moment, and quickly kissed Kurama before he lost the chance. Kurama smiled, setting a bag down upon the table as Kazuma rolled up his edited plans, and ran a hand over Kazuma’s cheek. His fingers touched lightly upon the dark skin under Kazuma’s eyes, and he could not keep from kissing Kurama’s fingertips as they strayed past his mouth.
   “My God,” Kurama murmured, “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
   “Uh, I haven’t,” Kazuma admitted, digging into Kurama’s bags with gusto to pull out his soup and salad. He ate with ravenous hunger, and Kurama soon joined him with his own salad. They were momentarily silent as they ate, sharing their lunch time in happy peace.
   “Oh bless you, you beautiful sweet angel,” Kazuma gushed, so glad to be eating after such an exhaustive day. Kurama laughed, a hand over his mouth as he chewed with a cheery smile. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping this shit from Yusuke. He’s a devious asshole!”
   “Well,” Kurama laughed as he popped a crouton in his mouth, “I could have told you that.”
   “Course you could, you’re the smartest most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. Me on the other hand, I’m screwed-“
   But Kurama kissed him, and Kazuma paused as Kurama put a wary finger over his lips.
   “Don’t say that about yourself.” Kurama warned, “You’re far better than me.”
   Kazuma kissed him back, winking as he dug back into his salad.
   “Oh!” Kazuma cried out, suddenly quite excited as he remembered the latest installment to Yusuke’s future restaurant. “Guess what came today?”
   “What?” Kurama asked.
   “Fish tank wall!” Kazuma raised his hands to the ceiling before crashing them back down, “Boom, baby!”
   Kurama burst out laughing.
   “I’m going to go pick out fish today and you are coming with me!” Kazuma cried out, pointing to Kurama as he said it.
   Kurama just continued to eat his salad, shaking his head and far from impressed at Kazuma’s grand gesture.
   “You do not need me to pick out fish.”
   “Yes, I do!” Kazuma corrected him at once, forcing Kurama to abandon his lunch as he pulled him close. Kurama resisted at first, but his smile was giving him away as he struggled against Kazuma’s chest, yet more laughter bubbling up from his throat. Kazuma soaked it up. “Because, my beautiful sunfish, you are the most glorious creature ever to exist and I want you to help me pick out the fish; your beauty will reflect in the fish you pick, and my fish tank will be- just like you- glorious.” Kazuma kissed Kurama lightly upon the eyelids.
   Kurama was still shaking his head.
   “You compliment me far too much.”
Still, Kazuma would not be deterred, an arm sneaking around Kurama’s back to rub soothingly at the base of his spine.
   Another reason to love warm weather and the return of spring - Kurama was wearing thinner shirts.
   “No. I don’t. I compliment you exactly the right amount. You know why? Because you’re wonderful, and there is literally nothing you could ever say to change my mind. Sorry, baby. Just the way it goes.”
   Kurama squinted at him as though he had spoken in another language. “Baby?” he repeated dully.
   “Baby,” Kazuma confirmed, now deciding on the spot he would call Kurama ‘baby’ as much as possible. He kissed him gently with each repetition, feeling the curve of Kurama’s lips as he began to smile again, “Baby, baby, baby.”
Seven Months Out:
   In the final month of his project, with very little left to do besides design work, Kazuma found himself skipping meals more and more as he tried to push his artistic signature into every inch of Yusuke’s restaurant. With money left over from his carefully maintained budget, Kazuma had installed a bar in the back of the restaurant. It was exciting to imagine the times he might share with Urameshi there in the near future, and he giddily awaited the coming weeks when he would finally open the restaurant to the public. The hiring process had been easy, simply because so many demons owed Yusuke favors and were looking for work. Now all he had to do was get Keiko’s parents and Atsuko to help him avoid Yusuke and Keiko for a few days while he had their stuff moved out of their apartment.
   The plot was thickening and Kazuma loved it.
   Kurama had convinced him to take a Friday off, simply because he was exhausted and in need of a home cooked meal. It turned out Kurama was a fantastic cook (Kazuma was far from surprised), and as he approached Kurama’s apartment with Kurama carrying bags full of groceries for that night’s meal he could not help but feel excited. Kurama was always nervous about Kazuma seeing his apartment, claiming it was horribly messy, and so they’d usually hung out at his own place to avoid Kurama’s fears. Kazuma was certain Kurama was overthinking things; he was such a perfectionist that surely his house would reflect it, yet as they approached the door and Kurama fished for the key, he gave Kazuma a pained look.

   “Now, I warn you,” Kurama said, searching two pockets in turning before finally finding his keys and pulling them out. “It’s terribly messy.”
   “Yeah, yeah, I doubt it.”
   Kurama sighed, looking quite put out as he slid the key into the lock and let them inside.
   “Oh, wow,” Kazuma laughed, “I don’t doubt it anymore.”
   Kurama’s apartment was crammed with books, papers, plants, and unfinished projects that caused Kazuma to giggle uncontrollably as they toed off their shoes and Kurama closed the door behind them. Kurama flushed irritably, grabbing Kazuma’s bags from him to head down the hall into the kitchen. Kazuma followed at once, eager to soak it all in. Kurama’s kitchen had apricot colored walls, and plants were everywhere upon the counters and on the sill where sun shown through threadbare curtains. Kurama touched each plant with care, and Kazuma leapt back in alarm as one of the plants suddenly uncurled to reveal a fanged mouth that hissed and crooned with delight at Kurama’s return.
   “Nice plant you got there,” said Kazuma, pointing at the creature as its black tentacles began to sway in an unsung rhythm. “It friendly?”
   “It’s a baby.” Kurama smiled at the nervous look on Kazuma’s face. “It’s just teething.”
   “Oh great, I’ll get it a pacifier,” Kazuma joked, eager to keep as far away from that plant as possible. He was certain it was going to leap out and bite him at any minute, judging from the way saliva dripped down its fangs and into the dark soil underneath.
   Kurama set to work, chopping vegetables as Kazuma began to follow instructions on a sauce recipe. They fell into an easy pattern, able to work well with each other’s movements as Kazuma followed Kurama’s orders.
   “Now, you do realize I’m supposed to be doing the work,” said Kurama as Kazuma began to fill a pot with water for noodles.
   “Trust me, you are,” Kazuma replied, setting the pot upon a stove eye and turning it on. “I have no idea how to cook. I’m more or less your slave.”
   At this, he threw Kurama a wink over his shoulder. Kurama blushed, unable to hide the laughter upon his face as he began to pull up his-
   Kazuma’s heart momentarily stopped at the sight of Kurama pulling his thick hair into a bun. He’d never seen such a stunning sight, and was mesmerized by the tendrils of dark red that suddenly fell to frame Kurama’s face.
   Damn. Kurama was gonna have to put his hair up more often.

   “You stir the sauce, then,” Kurama ordered. “I’ll take care of the vegetables.”
   Kazuma did exactly as instructed, praying he could somehow work the phrase, ‘wear your hair up all the time’ into their conversation.
   When Kurama added noodles to the boiling pot, he paused to give Kazuma a kiss. There was something domestic and warm about the gesture that moved him. Here they were, making a meal together, like they might do if they shared a home.

   “Every time I kiss you it makes me giddy,” Kazuma said, unable to hold back the grin spreading across his face. Kurama continued back to his own counter space, resuming his vegetable chopping with care. “I’m so dumb.”
   “You are not dumb,” Kurama warned him, his voice taking on a warning edge momentarily as he continued on, “You are very smart. Do not say that about yourself.”
   As Kurama finished with the first round of chopped vegetables, he momentarily paused to wash his hands and pull out an apron from one of his many drawers. When he put it on, Kazuma could not help but laugh at the black writing across the front: “I’m not old, I’m just well seasoned.”
   “Ha!” Kazuma pointed in glee as Kurama scoffed and turned away so that he could not see it anymore. “I love it; where did you get that?”
   “Yusuke thought it was very funny two Christmas parties ago.” Kurama’s tone was dry, showing his own feelings on the matter.
   “I think it’s funny too,” Kazuma said. “It’s perfect. And you are well seasoned. You’re like...” He paused in thought as he stirred the sauce, “the perfect seasoning. Anything you touch is wonderful.”
   Kurama looked down with a creeping blush, his fingers dancing lightly upon the chopped vegetables upon his cutting board. “Kazuma, you seem to think all the answers lay in my hands.”
   “They do,” Kazuma confirmed. Kurama shook his head in objection, but Kazuma carried on, “You’re a genius, and you’re loving, and you’re funny... and you’re aware. You always know what to do. If there was a crisis right now, you could fix it in a heartbeat. That’s just how cool you are.”
   Kurama chopped with a little more vigor, his tone taking on a stern edge. “Let us not forget that I manage to lose my car keys ten times a day. My apartment is a disaster. I’m scatterbrained, my mind is frequently everywhere except the place I need it to be--”
Kazuma waved a hand to dismiss it all.
   “Bah, that I can take care of.” Kazuma thumbed his chest with pride. “I’m good like that.”
   “I know you are,” Kurama agreed with a smile. Kazuma flushed at his next words, “I am thankful for it. I’ve... been rather out of sorts without you.”
   “Well, relax.” Kazuma abandoned his sauce and noodles to approach Kurama from behind with a kiss upon his cheek. “We’re together today,” Kazuma murmured into the shell of his ear, feeling Kurama shudder against him. “Nothing can touch us.”
   Kurama’s smile became genuine as he lowered his gaze. Kazuma could hear his breath pick up a pace, his fingers running experimentally over the smooth handle of his chopping knife as if... distracted.
   Kazuma kissed him again, and returned cheerily to his sauce.
   By the time that the noodles were done and drained, the sauce was nearly complete, yet as he looked at the recipe Kazuma could not help but feel a little lost.
   “Hey, Kurama, how do I “reduce” the sauce?” Kazuma wondered aloud.
   Kurama never missed a beat, still chopping the final tomato as he spoke, “Boil it until it thickens, thereby ‘reducing’ the amount of water.”
   “Right,” Kazuma said, turning the eye up at once to bring the sauce to a boil, “That’s pretty obvious I guess.” He laughed. “I’m stupid.”
   The atmosphere changed, and Kazuma’s heart leapt into his throat suddenly when he heard a rough ‘ahem’ from behind. Sensing danger, Kazuma looked over his shoulder to find Kurama glaring at him with his knife clenched tight in his hand.
   Kazuma instinctively took a step back.
   “You are not stupid,” Kurama ground out, his voice deadly soft. Those normally sweet and calm green eyes burned with warning that the path he had just chosen was a dangerous one “Do not say that about yourself.”
   Kazuma brought up his hands at once in surrender.
   “O-Okay,” Kazuma agreed, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, grinning nervously, “You don’t have to threaten me or anything.”
   Kurama’s glare vanished as he followed Kazuma’s gaze to the knife clenched in his hand. He set it down quickly, his expression neutralizing. He smiled at Kazuma, looking mild and kind, but Kazuma could feel the tension beneath the quiet.
   “I apologize,” Kurama said.
   “Don’t worry about it,” Kazuma said with a laugh, momentarily turning his back to Kurama in order to adjust the heat on the stove, as the sauce was now boiling feverishly. He stirred it gently, eager not to let it burn.
   Without warning, hands came from behind as Kurama wrapped his arms about Kazuma’s waist. His heart skipped a beat as Kurama turned him around. Kazuma nervously gripped the counter, but Kurama’s face was full of concern.
   “You are not stupid,” Kurama said, quietly, firmly.

   “Okay,” Kazuma agreed for a second time, knowing full well he was stupid despite what Kurama said. Kurama shook his head, unmoving as he suddenly removed his hands from around Kazuma’s waist to take his face in his hands. Kazuma’s burning cheeks must have been hot under his fingers.
   “No,” Kurama said sternly. “You look at me and you say it back to me.”
   Kazuma grinned, trying for a joke. “You are not stupid,” he repeated.
   Kurama narrowed his eyes and warning bells rang in Kazuma’s head.
   “... I am not stupid,” Kazuma corrected himself immediately, his voice so low and hushed that it barely graced the air.
   Kurama leaned in and kissed him gently upon the lips, pulling back far too soon.
   “Say it again.”
   “I am not stupid.” Kazuma began to grin, realizing Kurama’s tactic as he swooped in for another quick kiss. Once more he pulled back.
   “Again,” Kurama whispered, his voice husky and sweet. His gaze was smoldering.
   “I am not stupid.” Kazuma said it loud and clear, looking Kurama dead in the eyes. “I’m fuckin’ smart. Now kiss me, baby.”
   And so Kurama did.

   Dinner was a prolonged affair, the pair of them kissing far too often to efficiently eat their meal. When they were finally finished, they moved to Kurama’s living room which was packed full of books spread upon every inch of available counter space. Kazuma was shocked to find a familiar basket sitting upon Kurama’s coffee table. It was empty, save for a pair of weather-beaten black boots that looked ready to fall apart and an empty box of American candy.
   “Hey! It’s that basket Keiko pulled together that had Hiei’s stuff in it.” Kazuma approached to finger the tops of the boots, wondering why they belonged to. Could it be-?
   “Are these Hiei’s boots?” Kazuma asked in wonder, picking one up to feel how light it was. Christ it was nearly worn to the bone.
   “Yes, they are,” Kurama said, picking up the boot’s partner to observe it with a sad smile. “The night Hiei got drunk he was utterly delighted by our gifts. He loved your shoes. He wore them out. And Keiko’s scarf. And the soap and candle he took with him.” Kurama added. smiling gently at Kazuma, “He loved all of it, especially your boots.”
   Kazuma grinned. “Twerp,” he muttered warmly under his breath.
   “Quite.” Kurama laughed softly. “But he left the basket. Not that I blame him.”

   Kazuma regarded Kurama, and was suddenly struck at how lovely he appeared. Maybe it was the wine talking (he’d had two glasses during dinner) but he suddenly found himself enraptured by the image of Kurama holding that silly boot.
   “What?” Kurama asked, noticing Kazuma’s gaze.
   “You look so beautiful tonight.”
Kurama scoffed, setting down the boot and looking away so that Kazuma could not see the heat beginning to creep back into his cheeks. Still, Kazuma knew it was there. Kurama was beginning to chew on his bottom lip, always a sign of a blush to come.
   “Kazuma, your affections are greatly appreciated but--“
Kazuma would not listen. He caught the hand that Kurama threw out, pulling him in close to wrap his other about Kurama’s slim waist.
   “Don’t.” The word effectively silenced Kurama, who was now blushing in abandon, his lips slightly parted as he focused his gaze about the vicinity of Kazuma’s throat. “Don’t you start. You’re perfect and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

   “And you?” Kurama whispered, his hands suddenly creeping up Kazuma’s arms to trace along the muscles beneath the thin fabric.
   “Me? I’m just me.”
   “No,” Kurama disagreed softly. Kazuma felt Kurama squeeze his biceps appreciatively. He suddenly realized Kurama had had two glasses of wine as well, and wondered if Kurama was finally going to speak his usually guarded mind. The thought made his heart pound in his ears.
   “I’ve always admired your physique.” Kurama’s voice was a whisper, a ghost upon the air just as Kazuma’s had been earlier during the ‘sauce fiasco’.
   Kazuma grinned.
   “You wanna see my… physique?” Kazuma asked playfully.
   Kurama laughed, suddenly embarrassed as he covered his mouth with a careful hand, “I have.” Kurama’s voice was light and teasing, “Plenty of times, in battle.”
   Kazuma was feeling incredibly brave, bolstered by the wine in his system and Kurama’s sweet smile as he let go of Kurama to reach up to the buttons of his shirt.
   “You ain’t ever seen it like this.” He cast the shirt aside, noting with glee that Kurama’s eyes widened as he took the sight in.
   “No, I have not,” Kurama admitted, his voice quite hoarse from sudden strain. He laid a hand nervously upon Kazuma’s chest and ran his fingers down, unable to hide his smile as he felt the muscles there.
   And suddenly, as Kazuma regarded the curve of Kurama’s collarbone as it dipped below his pressed white collar, he realized something awful.
   He’d never seen Kurama shirtless. Not once, not ever; all during the Dark Tournament and even during their battle with Sensui. Kurama had always kept his shirt on.

   “... I wanna see you,” Kazuma whispered, his hand upon Kurama’s cheek as Kurama’s eyes widened again.
   “See--?” The question was cut short as Kazuma kissed him deep, bringing their bodies close together. He could have sworn he caught the slightest chuckle as Kurama pulled away slightly, deft hands reaching for his own shirt buttons. Kazuma’s mouth found Kurama’s neck, sucking at the pulse there.
   “Kazuma- ah!” Kurama gasped.
   So Kurama liked him kissing his neck then? Well then... that would have to happen much more often.
   Kazuma dragged his teeth ever so gently across Kurama’s neck, sucking deeply upon the skin there as Kurama writhed beneath him, buttons flicking open as he finally finished with his shirt and laid a hand gently upon Kazuma’s bare chest. . Kazuma rubbed his bare back and waist pulling back as Kurama threw his shirt upon the ground-
   “There. Now we’re even.”
   Kazuma could not look away, utterly enraptured by what he saw before him.
   Kurama was not incredibly muscled like Kazuma nor was he tanned like Urameshi. His slim form was smooth but dotted with the pale indentions of healed scars; a particularly thick one lay near his navel, as if Kurama has been pierced by a sword.
   Kazuma did not know which sight was more captivating: Kurama with his hair up, or Kurama shirtless. If he saw both at the same time he might just have a heart attack. Mercifully Kurama had taken his hair back down after they got finished preparing dinner.
   “What’s wrong?” Kurama asked, confused at the blank expression upon Kazuma’s face.
   “I’ve just... never seen you shirtless before.”
   “That can’t be true.” Kurama laughed.
   “It’s, uh, definitely true.” Kazuma thought back, certain his memory was accurate, “We even joked about it once, Urameshi and me. During the Dark Tournament.”
   “Kurama’s hiding a pair of tits!” Kazuma could hear Urameshi’s childish sneer ringing in his ears, “Why doesn’t he just take off his damn shirt? Give the girls something to scream about, that’s what I say!”
   “Like you were hiding boobs under there or something.” Kazuma explained. Kurama was smiling, unsurprised at the remark.
   “That does sound like Yusuke.”
   “It was dumb. We were just scared kids.”
   His hand was moving of its own accord, and suddenly he found himself touching Kurama’s bare chest. He felt the heart pounding beneath the skin, going so damn fast- was Kurama nervous?
   Kurama was looking down at where Kazuma was touching him, as if unsure of what would come next.
   But Kazuma held no answers, unable to keep from smiling as he stroked the smooth skin beneath his fingers.
   “Wow,” he whispered.
   He couldn’t stop himself; he grabbed Kurama tight in a bone crushing squeeze. Kurama made a choking noise, the air pushed from his lungs as Kazuma pushed them tight together with his balled fists behind Kurama’s back.
   “I can’t believe I actually get to hold you,” Kazuma murmured into Kurama’s hair. Kurama could barely move, only able to stroke up and down Kazuma’s bare back with his fingertips. The movement made Kazuma shudder.
   “Is it so shocking?” Kurama managed to say as Kazuma pulled back to kiss his neck feverishly.
   “Yes!” Kazuma pulled back a bit further to kiss Kurama’s cheeks as his hands roamed over Kurama’s bare chest and back. He was like a kid in the candy store- he couldn’t stand it! “You gorgeous creature; I am not worthy of you,“ he said in a rush, his voice hot with need as he returned to Kurama’s neck, exactly where he’d been kissing earlier before Kurama removed his shirt.
   “Kazuma—“ Kurama began, sounding pained, but Kazuma wasn’t listening. His mouth trailed over Kurama’s skin, now hot and slick with saliva. Soft tendrils of hair tickled Kazuma’s nose as his lips found the soft lobe of Kurama’s ear and closed on it gently. In such close proximity, the scent of the man in his arms overpowered him in the best possible way, both earthy and sweet. Trailing soft kisses against the underside of Kurama’s jaw, Kazuma reveled in the vibrations of sound that rumbled in Kurama’s throat. They signaled the last vestiges of protest collapsing into a strangled moan as he shuddered against Kazuma, knees quaking. His arms tightened around Kazuma, who was happy to support both their weight as he continued his fervent exploration.
   Christ, Kurama even tasted incredible.
   “K-k-“
Kazuma had never heard him stutter before.
   They were collapsing onto Kurama’s couch, falling upon the firm pillows, legs tangling as their skins merged to become one living being. Kurama was beneath Kazuma, pinned into the couch as Kazuma pressed a trail of kisses down his abdomen. Despite his lack of experience and his horrific self-confidence, Kazuma took Kurama’s nipple into his mouth and was rewarded instantaneously with a soft cry as Kurama balled his fists upon Kazuma’s bare back.
   Fortune favored the brave.
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Into the Gray