Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

That Human Connection	By : Artemick Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1944 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters and make nothing off this story.

Chapter List
- 1-That Human Connection
- 1
               Kurama heard footsteps in the hallway, without the front door having opened. He ignored it. Twisting up his hair, flat to his head, he fixed it in place with a clip and shouted, “No one’s here, Hiei. Would you like some eggs?”
                “Please.”
              Kurama spun at the voice. Prince Koenma wandered into the kitchen. He took stock of the room, putting the pacifier into his pocket.
              “Quaint,” Koenma announced, and sat down at the end of the table. He patted the table cloth with his hands. “How have you been?”
              Kurama’s upper lip flashed in a snarl. He let go of the counter, forcing his shoulders down.
              “Don’t be cold.” Koenma tilted his head, examining the young man. He flicked a finger towards him. “Your hair looks good up.”
              Kurama lifted his chin slightly. He said nothing.
              “Well? Is the kitchen open?”
                “I have class.”
                “Class,” the prince chuckled, picking up a napkin. He flipped it open onto his lap. “Yes, what a shame if you were to miss a day of that. Your future would be a complete wreck.”
                There was a hiss from the skillet. The butter was spitting. Kurama moved and turned the stove off. He knew how resourceful Koenma could be in looking for tortures. He hoped not to inspire him.
                The prince laughed. “Cute. Look at you. Playing house.”
                “It’s not a game. I'm very serious about it.”
              “I’m not your social worker, checking to see how you’re adjusting.” He scratched his lip slowly. “Well – I suppose I am, actually.”
              Kurama waited.
              “This is a good joke. You, here.” The prince snorted, leaning back. “Flowered wallpaper. Ha.”
              "My train will be here in eight minutes.”
              “Stay.”
              “I have to attend my classes in order to graduate. Schools aren’t meritocracies and science isn’t an intuitive field - I can manipulate plants but that doesn’t tell me how I can - there is diligence. Rules. I can’t stay. I have to attend.” Kurama gestured at the kitchen. “I…have invested a lot in this life, however plain it seems to you.”
              “Ah, the little delinquent needs structure to his life. I get it.” He tapped his nose and narrowed his eye with a sly grin. “You want discipline after all Yoko’s hedonism.”
              “I was never a hedonist. I was successful then at whatever I choose to apply myself to,” Kurama closed his satchel and moved it from Koenma’s reach. “And I will be successful now.”
              Prince Koenma eyed at Kurama’s hand. “Is that a dish towel you’re flinging around?”
              “I’m washing – “ Kurama stopped. He sighed and put the cloth on the counter. “What are you here for?”
              “I was in the neighborhood. Out for a walk. Stretching the legs.”
              Kurama stared. “Really.”
              The prince nodded.
              “An interdimensional stroll through my kitchen?”
              The prince shrugged.
              Kurama turned around to the sink. “Get out.”
              In an instant, the prince pressed his body flush to Kurama’s back. His hands came up, one circling Kurama’s throat, the other rising under his shirt. He inhaled deeply, the bridge of his nose pressed against the back of Kurama's left ear.
              Kurama’s cock twitched. The glass he was holding pinged against the bottom of the sink and split up the side.
              “I’m here. Inside your locks and wards. And you’re still proud.” The heat of his breath rolled over Kurama’s skin as he laughed, making the young man flinch. “You’re still rude to me. What makes you think I’m less powerful outside those rooms than inside them?”
              “This…is vile.” Kurama stopped, hissing as the prince jerked his jaw up with his hand. “Get off- “
              “Quiet.” The prince fingered Kurama’s lips, pressing his skull back into his cheek. Kurama could hear the vibration of his voice through the bone. “If you didn’t like me…” he slipped his hand into Kurama’s slacks. Holding the boy’s hips, he danced, swinging his weight from one foot to the other. “You would fight me.”
              Kurama pushed his arm around, shoving his elbow into the prince. He moved down the counter, leaving Koenma standing behind.
              “What?”
              “I would like you to leave. Please.”
              The prince cocked his chin up. “You would like me to leave?”
              Kurama reached across his chest, rubbing his arm. “I…would respectfully ask that you allow me to go to my class, which I have already committed to attending.”
                “You don’t remember how much pleasure I gave you that long night?”
                Kurama sneered. “Is that how you remember it?”
                “No. But I can say the word, and that will be how you remember it, fox.”
              Kurama froze; the instinct of a rabbit in night.
              The prince drawled on, “I hope you appreciate the great, great respect I am showing you right now by allowing you to keep your original memory. Your dislike. Your fear and disgust is my gift to you – however it may inconvenience my pursuits, at least you have your will.”
                The speech took the air out of the room.
            Kurama picked up the glass in the sink and stared into it.
                He had no doubt that the prince had the power to remake reality, down to the structure of his memories. He wasn’t even sure the prince hadn’t done it before. There was no proof. But Koenma had given him something of interest: knowledge that he, Koenma, wanted genuine approval. In some way, he even appreciated who Kurama was. Perhaps that made the sex more appealing for him, to dominate someone difficult…
                Kurama began talking, as he gathered up his jacket and bag. “I want to go to school, Koenma. I want the life you gave me. The – the trains and canned drinks and exams are fine. They’re plain and I like them; I never had them before. It was always thick blood and engraved goblets with Yoko, everything too rich to have any taste, and after a while, that extreme - even extreme luxury and pleasure - you tire of it. I tired of it.”
                He squeezed the handle of his bag. “Thank you for your visit.”
                Koenma stood, too tall in the human room. He seemed lonely and miserable.
                “Please, help yourself. To anything.” Kurama said. He bowed, very deeply. Then he moved backwards out of the room.
                Scurrying to the front door, he slipped out of his house shoes and into his loafers, then bolted out the door. It jammed on him, locked.
                For one horrid instant, he thought he was locked in, that the prince had done it. But then Kurama realized that the prince has simply not had the need to use a door, and never unlocked it to begin with.
                Scared to turn around, he hurried down the street as though a glance back would turn him into a pillar of salt.
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That Human Connection