"I'm hungry."
Kuwabara glances up from his textbook. That's the fifth or so time Hiei has said as much to Kurama, who is also busy with a book. He'd asked Kurama to help him study, but that was just a ruse. He needs help with something else, but damn it, he'd rather not ask while Hiei is around. It's a relief to him, though, to see Hiei acting twitchy and weird, too. Yukina is in a similar sort of funk back home. Shizuru is watching over her while Kuwabara has headed out for… information. He can't exactly go find a book about demon behavior, so Kurama is his next best resource. If only Hiei weren't hovering like a needy bumblebee…
Leaving a finger between the pages of his book, Kurama closes it long enough to turn to Hiei and say, "Mother isn't home. You're welcome to find something in the fridge that will keep you occupied."
Hiei glares at him for that. And now that Kuwabara picks up his head, Hiei does look awfully tired. He's pale and sweaty, fingertips tapping on his thigh where his hand dangles. That or he's twitching. Yukina is the same, only she has the manners to keep her short temper to herself. Mostly. Kuwabara had only needed to ask a few times if Yukina was all right for her to bite back at him. She'd looked immediately remorseful, but it was all the warning he 'd gotten the distinct feeling that although Yukina snapped at him that yes, she was all right, that she really wasn't. For the past few days, her aura has been erratic and unstable. Like she's sick or something.
Her mood has been all over the place, too. Sleeping pattern is different, too, along with an increase in appetite. Hiei is just bad at hiding it, Kuwabara guesses. And although Kurama points out Hiei is free to roam the house… Kuwabara suspects "I'm hungry" isn't a request for something refreshing. He suspects as much because of something he'd overheard through Yukina's bedroom door… He blushes remembering it and slaps at his face to cover up the splash of color.
Nose wrinkled in distaste, Hiei bites out, "Fine," and marches from the room.
It's only once Hiei's annoyed footsteps thump down the stairs and quiet does Kuwabara gather his courage to ask his questions.
"Hiei is acting kinda weird…"
The comment rouses an exhausted sigh with a hint of frustration at the end. Kuwabara watches in silence as Kurama rubs a hand over his face.
"That's one way to describe it, yes."
He relaxes back into his desk chair, Kuwabara occupying the bed, and stares up at the ceiling. And now that Kuwabara has a moment to look at Kurama without the risk of being caught, he realizes the fox is a little less chipper than normal. He looks just as tired and ragged as Hiei. Maybe more so. He's better at hiding it, hair combed and clean, clothes ironed. But his relaxed posture slowly turns into a slouch, something Kuwabara has never seen Kurama do. Urameshi or Hiei, sure, but never Kurama. That being said, Kuwabara recognizes this sort of exhaustion. It is not of the mind, but the sort of bone-deep tired that comes from physical labor. He tries not to remember Yukina locked in her room, music playing but not quite loud enough. Kuwabara clears his throat and meets tired, green eyes when Kurama looks at him.
"Uh… Yukina has been a little… odd, too."
He knows for sure Kurama is a little ragged when he actually catches the flash of emotion over the fox's face. It's a sort of… jump of his eyebrows—surprise—and the barest uptick of his lips—a knowing smirk. Ah, so he's right about those two. That just adds more heat under Kuwabara's collar and confirms his suspicions. He'd rather hear Kurama actually confirm them, though. Kurama is never wrong, but especially when it concerns the twins. Kurama sits up straight in his chair and leans his arms on the desk. It's a relaxed, casual sort of posture that Kuwabara thinks is supposed to throw him off the trail. Not likely.
"You don't say? Odd how, exactly?"
Mouth in a tight line, Kuwabara levels a knowing look Kurama's way.
"Like Hiei just now. Acting kinda bratty, which is not like her. She doesn't usually eat much, but I think Shizuru and I have made two trips to the grocery store this week alone. She stays in her room most of the time, and when you ask her what's wrong, she bites your head off. She apologizes for it, but it's scary to see it." He drops Kurama's stare at that point, unable to meet his eyes to explain this last part. "It's not just that. She, uh, she keeps taking clothes from my room. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. I think she's sleeping with them? She's not a punk like Hiei, so what gives?"
Kurama once again rubs a hand over his face. His palm even catches a sigh that slips out his mouth. They both feel Hiei loitering down in the kitchen, hopefully not listening to this. At least, Kuwabara hopes he's not.
"Kuwabara… forgive me is this is too forward, but it's been a frustrating couple of days, and I haven't slept." The fox takes a breath and then drops his hand. He looks more tired than ever, now. "But have you tried sleeping with Yukina?"
Kuwabara's blush climbs up from his neck, over his cheeks, and meets his hairline. Maybe that's not what Kurama means, but…
"You mean, uh, like next to her?"
Face painfully neutral, practically dead inside, Kurama amends his question with, "No. Have you tried fucking her?"
His imagination never could quite match Kurama's mellow voice to the harshness of the word "fuck." It echoes in his ears a few times before he manages to cobble together a response.
"N-no, of course not! We're not like that, um, I love her of course but…"
The more he sputters, the higher Kurama's thin eyebrows lift up. Kuwabara's rambling doesn't mean much to him, and he probably knows Kuwabara isn't adverse to such a thing. But Kuwabara has always imagined his first time with Yukina as something… nice and pleasant. Perfect. Nothing so casual like Kurama makes it out to be. If anyone else were to say it like that to him, he'd be upset about it. But as Kuwabara sits there and tries to work out an appropriate explanation, Kurama sighs again and rests his head on a fist.
"I assume she's been in this… mood for the past week? And it's been worse recently? The previous three days or so?"
"Yea…"
Kurama's other hand rises up to join the first, and his fingers lace together to support his chin.
"Any idea why I suggested intercourse may be the solution to your problem?"
He'll pass out from how hot his face is. Kuwabara leans away from Kurama's knowing look and avoids meeting his eyes. He can almost see whiskers poking out of his face, waiting for Kuwabara to stumble across the explanation himself.
"I… guess it has something to do with her…"
He sees the grin Kurama attempts to holds back.
"Yes? Go on."
Scowling, Kuwabara points out, "She's not an animal, Kurama, you know what I mean. Like… demon mating season or something. It sounds awful when I say it like that, but that's what it is, right? Her energy is all over the place and she's eating a lot. That must mean Hiei…"
"Is in a similar predicament, yes." Kurama gestures to his face with a brief twirl of a finger. The bags under his eyes are more noticeable when he smiles. "Hence why I haven't slept in a day or so. To spare you the gory details."
Kuwabara grits his teeth to try and stop his blush from glowing brightly again.
"So, like, why is this happening? She's lived with us for a few years, now. It's never happened before."
Kurama shrugs and then leans back in his chair. Below, they hear the whistle of a kettle. Kuwabara wonders what Hiei's doing that requires hot water. And why he hadn't just heated it himself…
"I have some thoughts on that. I met Hiei when I was younger, and he too did not exhibit such… cyclical urges."
Kuwabara blanches at that, but Kurama continues.
"I suspect that the Koorime amongst themselves have no such fertility cycle. They reproduce asexually, if you recall. And when I first met Hiei, he had no drive to nest, which is what Yukina is doing with your clothes by the way, and no drive for other things. But the longer he stayed here and around me, the more he fell into a pattern. It may be that Hiei and Yukina are sensitive to the hormones of other creatures, human and demon alike. And when around hormonally driven creatures, they eventually find a cycle of fertility and infertility."
"Sounds reasonable."
Kurama shrugs.
"It's just a theory."
"You'd know better than me," Kuwabara admits. "I thought she was sick at first, but… Well, the whole clothes thing and other stuff…" He blushes again and seeks to drive their conversation away from that and asks, "What about that nesting thing you mentioned. What is that? Why is she doing that?"
"Comfort, mostly. If she's taking your clothes, then she finds the smell of you comforting. It has other purposes of course. Making a safe place for her, mixing her scent with yours."
Kuwabara scowls at that and mutters, "She's not a dog, you know."
Kurama pays his upset no mind and explains, "It's an instinctual thing. Her instincts are different than yours, Kuwabara. She's just doing what feels right. We do it too. We find comfort in our personal spaces, amongst our friends and family, favorite food. Once you see the parallels and boil it down to an emotion, of just finding comfort, it doesn't seem so odd." He smiles and adds, "Humans are animals, too. We just like to think we're not."
"I guess you're right. But… How do I help her, then? I can't stand seeing her so miserable. She doesn't deserve this."
Like a fern unrolling in the sun, Kuwabara watches a smile ever so slowly tug at the corners of Kurama's lips. Eyebrows high again and with that almost-grin, Kurama sits silently and watches Kuwabara squirm. His mellow voice saying "fuck" echoes once again in Kuwabara's ears, and even a dizzying shake of the head can't silence it.
"She will go back to normal soon," Kurama says while looking down and away from Kuwabara's furious blush. "But… it would be easier if you helped her along, so to speak."
"Don't bother being coy now!" Kuwabara stabs a finger in Kurama's direction. "You started this conversation telling me to sleep with her! 'Help her along,' yea right."
"Actually, what I said was—"
"I know what you said!" Kuwabara nearly shrieks. If he hears Kurama repeat his words… "And what I'm saying is that's not possible. She's… we… Our relationship isn't like that, okay? And besides, I can't just take advantage of her! Only a coward would do something like that. The lowest of the low!"
Kurama objects with a sympathetic smile and, "She's completely aware of what's happening around her. I understand your worry over consent, it's a noble thing, but if she agrees, then you aren't taking advantage of her. Not only that, but even you being close to her would help. She's chosen you as the person she wants to be near. If not, why wouldn't she just take Shizuru's things instead? She's chosen you, but she either doesn't know how to proceed or won't for fear of upsetting you."
"Okay but…" Kuwabara pauses for a second to push down the flutter in his heart over Yukina choosing him. He's loved her for so long, now, and yet barely has a grasp on how she feels for him… "Say… say that I do help her. Does she even know what she's agreeing to?"
Eyebrow flicked high, Kurama asks with a grin, "Do you?"
"I think?" Kuwabara admits with a wince. "Is it like… will it be bad? Is she really in that much, uh… distress?"
Kurama leans forward with narrowed eyes, grin still knowing and teasing, and says, "I haven't slept in a day or two, Kuwabara. And Hiei has been here for a week."
Hiei storing into back into the room saves Kuwabara the embarrassment of blushing or making any sort of noise to Kurama's indecent suggestion. Face thunderous and teeth bared, he marches to the bed, grabs Kuwabara by an arm, and drags him up.
"Hey! What gives?"
"You need to leave. Now," he snarls up at Kuwabara's look of outrage.
Kurama remains in his desk chair, covering an awful smile with his hand. He watches Kuwabara struggle against Hiei's iron grip on him. The disturbances in Hiei's ki have been growing ever since Kurama had to clean up his bedroom and make it presentable to others. He couldn't have Kuwabara know right off the bat about the twins' conditions, how he's been holed up in here with Hiei, nearly insatiable, for two solid days. Hiei had objected to opening a window to air the room out, almost foamed at the mouth while Kurama picked up all the clothes and put them back in the hamper. They'll be spread around the room again once Hiei returns, keen on making the room comfortable again.
The front door slams downstairs—Hiei hadn't thrown Kuwabara through it or out a window, how civil of him—and Hiei returns just as foul as when he'd left. His first victim is the laundry basket, which he flicks the lid off and then chucks the clothes around. Most land on the floor, some on the bed. The bedroom is in a right mess again, and Hiei is only just getting started. He smacks at the arm of Kurama's chair to turn him around. Once Kurama's legs are free of the desk, Hiei fists both hands in Kurama's shirt and straddles his thighs. Kurama leans back from his pinched, blushing face when Hiei arches forward.
"Someone's in a mood," he mutters.
Hiei twists the front of Kurama's shirt tighter in his fists. A thread pops somewhere, and Kurama imagines he can hear Hiei's teeth grinding.
"Why did you invite him here?" Hiei hisses. "You stink like him. The whole room does now."
Taking Hiei's shaking hands by the wrists, Kurama pulls his claw-like fingers away and says, "If you rip one more of my shirts, I'm returning to work early from my 'vacation.'"
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Hiei's hands flex where Kurama still holds his wrists. He'd tear the shirt along with the rest of their clothes to shreds if Kurama let him. But he holds Hiei's hands and blurry stare alike as the little demon decides. Hiei shakes terribly in his lap, and his skin is feverish like this morning. Kurama is sure the back of Hiei's shirt is stuck to him, hair at the nape of his neck damp, too. A shiver runs wild through Hiei at that point, and his shoulders hunch up around his ears. Sure that Hiei's initial aggression has passed, Kurama lets him go.
The poor demon slumps against him and pants hot, humid breath over his neck and through his hair. Hiei worms his arms between them to clutch at Kurama's shirt. He's in no danger of Hiei tearing it apart, though. This grip is the desperate sort, a grip meant to hold on for dear life as the heat in him rises again. Sighing, Kurama loops his arms around Hiei and holds him. His hair is indeed wet with sweat when Kurama dives a hand through the locks. Hiei's shirt is much the same, and Hiei shivers under his hand once Kurama rests it there.
"Hush," he murmurs in Hiei's ear. His head is heavy where it lies tucked tightly to Kurama's shoulder and neck. "I just wanted you to behave. I'm not going anywhere."
"Bastard," Hiei bites out in his neck. "You would leave me here stuck like this. You did this to me."
Sending his gaze skyward, Kurama pets his fingers through Hiei's hair to draw out some of his tension. The longer Hiei is in his lap, the more he relaxes. Perhaps having Kuwabara here had been a mistake. Amusing, but a mistake. Hiei must have dug deeply to find the self-control to not toss Kuwabara out the minute he arrived. It must have been torture for Hiei to sit around while an outsider invaded their nest and interrupted their time together. The trip downstairs had probably been under the guise of keeping his temper under control, to wait Kuwabara out instead of exploding. And judging by the tremor that shakes Hiei's whole body, it had been a struggle indeed. Such sacrifice deserves recompense, though.
"You always accuse me of having a hand in your cycles, little flame," Kurama teases him. "But I confess I've done nothing, despite how nice it is to have you here and so agreeable. Mostly."
Hiei hisses into his neck, but offers no other proof or accusation. True, there are plants Kurama knows of that could manipulate such a delicate cycle. He's only thought of keeping Hiei at his side, nearly mindless with pleasure and so accommodating, in his darkest dreams. But even if he had the desire to control Hiei on such an animalistic level, he would do so for the demon's protection rather than his own sake. The Dark Tournament wouldn't have had so many close calls if Hiei were less sensitive. He doesn't even want to remember the span of time where Hiei had been "absent" from the group while they unraveled Sensui's plan. He recalls his time away from the group effort fondly, thanks to Hiei, but to keep the secret from them and play like nothing had happened while the world was ending… But Kurama sighs at the past and gathers Hiei up in his arms. No use reminiscing of those times when he could be busy making new memories with Hiei right now.
He picks them up from the desk chair and carries Hiei back to bed. The sheets are fresh, ready to be ruined, when Kurama sets him down. Hiei tries to sit up with his eyes already murky and face flushed up to his ears. A hand in the center of his chest is all Kurama needs to keep Hiei down. Normally, the little spitfire would hiss and scratch him, pull him down by his hair until they were joined again. It must be nearly at the end of the cycle for Hiei to be so needy and agreeable.
Coaxing Hiei out of his clothes has never been so easy. They join the mess Hiei had made on the floor. Everything needs a good wash anyway. Kurama leaves his for now, keen on seeing just how pliant Hiei is right now. Urging his knees to bend and then part only takes the barest caress to the insides of them. Hiei pants up at him and turns his head away, unable to keep his vision straight. Poor thing. He's still wet between his cheeks from come and slick alike. He squirms when Kurama exposes him, jumps at the brush of fingers across one cheek and then the other.
"Fox, please," he whimpers. His lower lip will bleed again with him biting it like that. "Hurry."
Oh yes, Kuwabara should be in for a treat once he returns home.
Back home, Kuwabara stands outside Yukina's bedroom, fist poised to knock on the door. Her ki beyond waivers just like it has the past week. Only now, Kuwabara knows why. He'd always had an inkling of why, though. He'd just tried not to think about it, tried not to pollute the idea of Yukina in his head. Sure, he's wanted to kiss her, to hold her hand, hold her for that matter… But more than that feels too invasive in his head. She always responds with a little smile to his quiet confessions of love for her. She probably doesn't feel the same, and he's not sure he can do this without her love, because—
The door opens with a quiet snick of the lock, and Yukina peeks through the crack up at him. Even now he spies the dark flush over her cheeks, how her eyes are brighter than normal. Like Hiei's earlier.
"Kazuma…"
He jumps and throws his hand back down to his side.
"Um, hi, hi Yukina, uhhh…"
She licks her lips before pressing them into a thin line. He knows he's trying her patience right now, but how is he supposed to repeat what Kurama had told him? The fox's voice still echoes in his head, "fuck" stuck on repeat. There's no way he could ever say that. Even approaching the general idea twists his tongue into a knot. Yukina sighs behind the door and moves to close it, to go back to suffering alone probably. Kuwabara takes a deep breath and wedges his foot between the door and the jam. Time to be a man.
"I know what's happening with you now. Um… I was worried about you and asked Kurama what I should do."
She opens the door a little wider and blinks up at him. Kuwabara turns his head to avoid her stare. It doesn't escape his notice that she's wearing one of his white sleep shirts. And nothing else.
"He, uh, explained what's happening to you and what's causing it. How to uh… help you. And—"
"Please don't worry about me, Kazuma," she says softly. "I'll be fine. I don't want to trouble you."
"But I do worry about you! I…" He sighs and drops his shoulders. When he levels another look at her, his face is wide open, eyes earnest. "I can't stand to see you suffer. I never could from the moment I first saw you."
She stares at him with wide eyes and lips parted. They go a little wider still when he covers her fingers curled over the side of the door.
"I know I make things hard for you, telling you I love you and carrying on like I do. But I only ever want you to be happy. So when you started staying in your room all alone, I thought at first maybe I'd pushed you away for real. I know the truth now, and…"
"Kazuma," she whispers.
She pulls the door open all the way and then reaches for his hand once the path between them is clear. He holds it tenderly and feels her slow, demon pulse flutter against his thumb.
Shoulders back and straight, Kuwabara proclaims, "And because of that, I am here to help you however I can. Whatever you need, I'm here for you."
Smile exhausted but soft at the edges, Yukina squeezes his fingers and asks, "Are you sure? You don't have to, really."
Kuwabara's face is firm as he bends down and draws Yukina's hand up. The back of her hand is soft, strangely warm for her, when he kisses it.
"I would do anything for the one I love."
The soft smile she'd shot up at him blossoms into something bright and glowing. Her hand tugs on his, and Kuwabara follows her through the doorway. His free hand trembles a little when he swipes at the door to nudge it shut. The window usually open to both light and breeze in Yukina's room is dark with sheets over it. Shizuru must have helped her do it. A fan buzzing from the floor is the only thing that keeps the air from stagnating in here. Beyond that, it's cozy and warm, the perfect place to curl up and wait out… urges.
Kuwabara blushes up to his hairline again as Yukina draws him to the bed. Clean and dirty clothes from his room litter the mattress. Some are pushed into a pile near the wall, perhaps to cradle her and make her feel less alone. She's still wearing his shirt, and Kuwabara is pretty sure it'd been one soaked through with sweat when he'd tossed it away. How she can stand the smell of him on it, he has no idea.
Still holding his hand, Yukina tugs him closer and asks, "Will you stay? Please?"
Kuwabara nods.
"Of course. Anything. Do you want me to sit somewhere, or, uh…"
Yukina shakes her head and then draws them deeper into the room. The bed hits the backs of her knees. She falls gently to sit and curls her legs up beside her. Kuwabara keeps his eyes on her face, unwilling to sneak a peek when the bottom of his sleep shirt rides up her thighs.
"The bed, um… Will you lie down with me? And hold me?"
A little nod and smile from Kuwabara sends her scooting back. She takes up the inside spot on the bed, her back to the wall and covered window. She keeps hold of Kuwabara's hand as Kuwabara hikes a knee up and then settles on his side. She wiggles on her side to face him, and their joined hands lie relaxed in the small space between them. The bed isn't quite long enough for Kuwabara to leave his legs straight, so he curls them to get comfortable. He'd thrown on pajama pants and a thin t-shirt before coming in here. He's happy he'd done so, mostly because it's a little too warm in here with the window closed. He's used to Yukina being almost chilly to the touch, but her temperature is high. She watches him in the dim light with eyes mostly clear, though, so he knows she's not feverish. She shifts beside him, and the soft material of his pajama pants brushes her knees. A flinch draws her away from him, timid like a doe, but with a sigh Yukina scoots closer still. Kuwabara holds his breath.
"Kazuma," she whispers in the space under his chin. "Will you… Could we…"
Eyes closed and blush making him dizzy, Kuwabara murmurs, "Anything, Yukina. I'm yours."
His eyes are still firmly closed when Yukina shifts beside him. He doesn't offer her any resistance while she guides their clasped hands down. With their height differences, she actually has to wiggle up the bed. When Kuwabara peeks an eye open, he finds that now he's the one nearly tucked under her chin. He doesn't mind so long as he's helping her, that she's comfortable with this. Letting her do whatever she wants seems the way to go. The last thing he'd ever want to do is step over a boundary and scare her. Or hurt her. So, let her take charge. Whatever she wants, he'll do it.
Kuwabara focuses on keeping his breaths even as Yukina wiggles around. He's curious about what she's doing, but too nervous to open his eyes. She sighs above him, breath disturbing his hair, and then untangles their fingers. She hops closer still to him, and Kuwabara allows her to flatten his hand to her skin. All her wiggling around must have dragged her shirt up. He thinks the dip of her navel is somewhere near his wrist. The tips of his fingers craze coarse hair, and he can only imagine what she must look like.
"It's okay," he mumbles almost against her throat. "I won't hurt you, Yukina. Do whatever feels right"
He'll have to thank Kurama later for his words of advice. If Yukina had held back because of him, those words set her free. A breath stutters past her lips as she drags his hand down. She arches towards him and parts her thighs enough to squeeze his hand between them. He's never imagined anything like this, but he's happy to find out her thighs are as soft as her hands, her arms that he's felt. This is a leap from just holding her hand or around the shoulders. He tries not to think about that as Yukina guides him where she wants him. He doesn't expect how fine the hair between her legs is, how soft she is, how she presses his fingers down until he feels something wet—
"Kazuma," Yukina gasps quietly above him.
She shivers and then covers his hand with hers, trapping it against her body. Kuwabara bites the inside of his cheek to not make a sound. All the aggression she's shown these past days finds an outlet in the way she grinds against his palm. All her wiggling around spreads that wetness he'd touched, making the glide of their skin much easier. From his middle finger all the way to the heel of his hand, slick heat slides between them. It must feel good to her, because she gasps and bites back little noises above him. He feels them vibrate in her throat no matter how she tries to keep quiet. Sucking in a quick breath, Kuwabara cranes his head forward to kiss where Yukina's pulse jumps under her skin. She jerks beside him, and he catches her breathless moan between his lips.
He's familiar with anatomy like Yukina's. Urameshi has flashed porn magazines in his face plenty of times just to see him blush and scream. So he knows—in theory—what he's touching, where to press a little harder. Yukina jumps again as he wiggles his fingers, gently pushing through skin and wetness to find what he's looking for. Her hips arching towards him is a good sign; her little pants tussling his hair are a good sign. He just doesn't want to hurt her. All her sighs and trembling encourages him to take a chance, to touch her how he thinks she wants.
He pauses for a second with his middle finger resting lightly where she's aching and waiting, twitching every so often. When she makes no move to stop him, just pants harder into his hair, he pushes in. Her hand still on top of his spasms, slips away, and then grips his forearm for dear life. He takes it as a good sign and gives her a little more. Yukina shakes hard against him, and when she tightens up around him, Kuwabara has to bite back his own noise.
Kuwabara crooks his wrist to try and keep his hand flush to Yukina's body. She'd stopped grinding on his heel at some point, and he bets that feels good to her. The light brush of his rough heel over fine hair and wet skin jolts her out of the stupor she's fallen into. Yukina's nails dig into Kuwabara's forearm like claws as she rocks against his hand. Kuwabara makes sure to keep his own hips twisted towards the bed and canted away from her. He's harder than he's ever been, but this isn't about him. This is about Yukina, and he wants to focus entirely on her.
He has to hide a smile near the hollow of her throat as she coos and snaps her hips harder into his hand. She's so lovely even while like this. Even with her claws digging into him, Kuwabara is hopelessly in love. He sighs and buries his face against her collarbones and the beginning swell of her breasts. The shirt she'd swiped from him bunches up by her ribcage from all her wiggling, but it doesn't stray higher than that. Kuwabara doesn't attempt to move the shirt, either. It's damp against his face from Yukina's sweat as he nuzzles what softness he can find.
"Ka-Kazuma, mmm…"
He barely hears her over the rush of blood in his ears. She strains and clenches around him much harder now. He's not sure where to touch, how to move his finger other than in and out. Yukina jerks hard again and squeaks in his hair when he tests if he can fit another finger in her. She opens beautifully and swallows that digit down, rocking down to get him in her faster. He's glad he can't hear the sounds between their bodies over her moans and his own breathing. It would be too much for him. This is all a bit too much anyway, but he'd meant what he said. His clothes stick to him with sweat, he thinks he might pass out from how hard he is, and his wrist will be stiff the rest of the day. But it's all worth the discomfort for Yukina. He bites her shirt while crooking his wrist a bit more, trying to move in a way that makes her shake and meet his thrusts.
Yukina's hand at his forearm drops closer to his wrist and helps him move the way she wants. Her hips rock more, too, and she keeps squeezing around him. His other arm is probably asleep, right one probably bleeding from Yukina clawing at him. But just a bit more, that's all she needs. Her moans are nearly constant in his hair, and her hips are starting to stutter. Kuwabara presses his face harder to her chest and shifts his hand against her. She'd ground down and around on his heel, but he can't thrust into her like that.
His thumb feels asleep when he twists it away from his other fingers and slips it up, up, until he brushes against something firm. Yukina's grip around his wrist tightens and grinds the delicate bones together as he rubs her where she wants it. Torn between rocking onto his fingers and rubbing against his thumb, Yukina jerks a few times beside him before freezing entirely. Face hidden in her shirt, Kuwabara's eyes are wide as she clenches around him in waves, each accompanied by a little twitch of her hips. Is she…? Did he do it?
Yukina releases her crushing grip on Kuwabara's wrist. Her hand falls between them, limp and twitching against Kuwabara's shirt. He takes care to remove himself from her slowly, wincing when she whimpers and shudders. He's not sure what to do about his hand and fingers now completely soaked. Swallowing hard, Kuwabara just wipes the mess off on the thigh of his pajama pants and deems that good enough until he can wash his hands. Wrapping his arms around Yukina and holding her is more important than that right now.
He does so slowly at first, not sure if he's still welcome. Yukina is motionless above him, the space under her chin still his. The air between and around them is terribly humid and full of scents Kuwabara has only smelled alone. He blushes and scoops her up, pressing thin lips to her throat. Yukina sighs at that and throws her weak arm over him, too. Kuwabara's heart soars at that. He'd thought for sure she would push him away, ask him to leave her alone. Of course he would, but oh how it would wound him deeper than any opponent ever could.
"Kazuma, I…" Her shoulders jump in a little laugh. "Thank you, Kazuma. Thank you for everything. That was… so…"
"I'm, um, glad that you…"
They share a blush at that moment, although neither of them knows it. Yukina lifts her weak hand to pet at Kuwabara's hair. He thinks she wants him to look up, so he pulls away and does so, mindful of how close they are. Her smile is softer than he's ever seen, eyes clear like normal. Kurama had been right. She's already so much better, more like herself.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Eyes a little wider, Yukina shakes her head and says quickly, "No, no, not at all. No, it was—I mean it felt so…"
He knows what she means. He smiles up at her and pets her cheek with the back of his hand. He'd rather wash his hands before touching her face…
"I'm glad. I'm glad that it felt good. That I could help you."
The last bit of tension drains from her. Relaxed and soft again in his arms, Yukina ducks down to press a little kiss to his lips. Kuwabara keeps still in his shock, not expecting this. She pulls back soon enough, though, and holds tightly to him again. He thinks she drifts off to sleep with their lips still buzzing from that kiss. Her back moves smoothly under his hand like she's asleep. Poor thing. Ignoring all the little things that beg his attention, Kuwabara tucks himself under Yukina's head and holds her while she sleeps. He'll definitely have to thank Kurama later. Somehow.
Kurama pushes thoughts of anyone else from his mind and gives Hiei just a taste of what he wants. Two fingers slip in without any resistance, and Hiei's chest arches off the bed with a groan. Kurama flattens him once more before hiking a knee up on the bed. His shadow blocks some of the sunlight raining down on Hiei's flushed cheeks. Long eyelashes flutter before Hiei manages to open his eyes. They're wet with moisture like earlier this morning. Lifting his free hand from Hiei's chest, Kurama drags his knuckles across Hiei's eyes before any tears can fall. One or two had escaped the poor demon yesterday, but Kurama had snatched them before Hiei noticed. Two is more than enough. And they're his.
"It's so nice to hear you say that, Hiei. Once more?"
Hiei grits his teeth and looks two seconds away from telling the fox to fuck off or some other obscenity. Kurama cocks his head to the side, gaze glued to Hiei's face, and crooks his fingers. Hiei doesn't catch the smile that spreads across Kurama's face, because his eyes roll back. He could come just like this, but they both know it wouldn't be enough. He'd be hard and trembling again soon enough. This should be the last day, if Kurama is a fair judge, which he considers himself to be in this case. Hiei's hips shift on the bed, trying to start up a rhythm with Kurama's still hand. Humming, Kurama pins him once again to put a stop to that. If Hiei wants more, then he needs to ask. Especially after being so rude to their guest…
"Bastard," Hiei sighs when Kurama doesn't budge. He thumps his head into the blanket under him and growls, "Please."
Kurama pulls out, waits for Hiei to glare at him, and then plunges back in. Watching Hiei shudder and go lax on the bed is worth his nasty attitude.
"Please what?"
"You know what!"
"Hmm, I'm not sure…"
Kurama's wrist twists as he starts a nice rhythm in and out. Hiei's resistance melts under his touch, and he shudders so prettily with his legs wide open, head thrown back. Once Hiei tries to match him, though, he stops again.
Through his teeth, Hiei snarls, "I hate you."
"I seriously doubt that," Kurama fires back with a jerk of his head, tossing his hair back over his shoulder. He leans forward on the one knee he has up on the bed, bringing him nearer to Hiei's bared throat. He sighs just above feverish skin and murmurs lower, "You wouldn't let me do this if you did, Hiei. Don't lie."
Hiei jumps under Kurama as teeth nip at the pulse in his neck. One hand flashes up and tangles in long, red locks, threatening to toss Kurama on his ass. The brief pain at Hiei's neck deepens as Kurama holds on and pins Hiei down with teeth clamped tightly around tendons and veins alike. Hiei struggles for a moment more, just a feeble jerk of his hips, maybe a leg twitching. But as Kurama bites harder and harder, the fight slips right out of him. Red strands of Kurama's hair cling to Hiei's fingers when his hand flops back to the bed.
Kurama catches Hiei's fast breaths and tiny whimpers between his teeth and has to stop himself from drawing blood. There will be time for that soon enough. He only lightens up the brutal pressure when he's sure Hiei will behave from now on. It only takes a little show of force to put the demon in his place. He doesn't come here to be in charge of what they do. He'd go somewhere else, seek out strangers if that were the case. When Kurama sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his free hand to check for blood. There's none for now.
Hiei blinks up at him through hazy, barely-open eyes. He squirms under Kurama's intense stare and curls his legs higher, trying to entice him into hurrying this along. Kurama appreciates the effort, but he's not ready yet. This is the only time he gets to tease Hiei and dangle what Hiei wants in front of him without the risk of singed hair or a punch. Hiei's body clings with every ounce of strength to his fingers when he pulls out. Chest arching off the bed again, Hiei wines, but can do nothing about it. The knobs of his knees are warm, damp with sweat when Kurama holds him there. He keeps Hiei's legs steady and curled tightly to his chest, exposing him below. With Hiei's legs in the way, he can't hover over the demon like before. But watching him from above like this is lovely, too.
Thumbs stroking the dips beside Hiei's knees, Kurama murmurs down at him, "If you can't tell me what you want, then I guess you'll have to show me."
Hiei's voice breaks over his next whine. He tries to arch his hips off the bed, but Kurama forces him down. No amount of wiggling or pleading with those big eyes of his will get Hiei out of this, now. He needs this, and they both know it. Every cycle that comes around, with plenty of warning too, Hiei could go to anyone else. Kurama doesn't like to think about it, but Mukuro could keep up with Hiei when he's like this. She could hold the demon down and give him the thorough thrashing he needs. Plus she's already in Makai, Hiei's perfected haunt. And yet he's here every few months, practically kicking in Kurama's window and tearing their clothes off. It must mean something, but Kurama will have plenty of time to think about it later. Asking Hiei will certainly garner him no answers to his questions.
Shooting Hiei a more pleasant smile, Kurama grabs him behind the knees and positions Hiei how he wants. Like this, Hiei should have no problem reaching down to show exactly what he wants Kurama to do to him.
"This should help," he says with the same smile. "Show me, my little spark. Show me what you need."
He's always highly amused to see just how red Hiei's face can get. Even his ears pink up. Hiei grimaces and turns his head away, shielding one, burning cheek from Kurama's gaze. He'll give in. They both know he will. And Kurama has already worn down Hiei's reservations over the past few days. Hiei's cycle will surely break today.
Kurama has that thought in his head when Hiei squeezes his eyes tightly shut and moves one of his fisted hands. His right shoulder rises up near his ear as he twists to thread his arm down and between his legs. Despite Kurama folding Hiei's knees practically to his chest, Hiei still has to strain to curl a hand over himself. He grits his teeth harder and harder as Kurama watches him. The tips of Hiei's fingers craze hair and delicate skin, and Kurama lets out of the breath he'd been holding. He jostles Hiei's legs higher and farther apart to get a better view.
A sigh punches out of Hiei's pretty lips when his fingers finally curl down and graze his hole. How embarrassing it must have been for him to stand around, cheeks wet with come and slick, while Kuwabara had sat here. Oh, and if only Hiei knew why Kuwabara had intruded on their day. Hiei might actually set the house on fire, with Kurama in it, if he knew the advice Kurama had so helpfully given their former teammate. Hiei isn't so far gone that he would forget Kurama teasing him with such information, so Kurama keeps his amusement to himself.
And how amusing Hiei is with the way he bites himself to not make noise, how his blush drips down his throat to the teeth marks in his skin. How he slips into himself with a choked gasp, hole already loose and waiting for something to fill it again. Kurama ignores himself for now, knowing it won't be long until Hiei is gagging for him. He squeezes Hiei's legs still caught in his hands to encourage and comfort him. Too much pushing and Hiei may lash out, judgment clouded by hormones or not. The little spitfire has limits, after all.
Hiei keeps his head twisted away and eyes shut while shoving two fingers into himself. Kurama gives him enough wiggle room to rock into the short thrusts he can manage bent like this. Kurama smiles at the pitiful whine that fights past Hiei's clenched jaw as he struggles to go deeper. It would have been easier for Hiei on his knees, but less enjoyable for his audience. Plus, watching Hiei struggle and strain to fuck himself is part of the show. Kurama releases one of Hiei's legs and trails his hand down the back of a trembling thigh. Hiei's wrist is tense when he takes it in hand and forces Hiei's fingers deeper.
Hissing, Hiei rips his head around to glare at Kurama through the slits of his eyelids. Kurama stares him down while forcing Hiei's fingers harder into him. The angle of Hiei's wrist must sting, will probably ache later. Can Hiei even feel his fingers like this? How they slip easily over wet skin and dive inside where he's hot and needy? No longer as tight as a few days ago thanks to thorough, repeated ravishingly, but still lovely. Kurama sighs as Hiei hops and kicks under him. This won't do.
Kurama shoves the one leg he still has higher to keep it out of the way. He breaks eye contact with Hiei to slip his hand down and feel where his lover's body opens for short fingers. Hiei jumps at the caress and finally lets loose the lewd moan Kurama had been waiting for. Hiei's normally deep voice climbs higher in his throat and breaks over his noises. A litany of panted breaths and hums fills the humid air between them. It's perhaps one of the most beautiful sounds Kurama has ever heard, and he knows how much Hiei loathes them. His noises are even more beautiful when Kurama uses the slickness of his body against him and adds two of his own fingers to Hiei's.
The little demon's shout would shake the floorboards and rattle all the doors if it could. Kurama doesn't give him time to adjust or relish the stretch before moving. The backs of Hiei's fingers drag against his for the brief time where Hiei forgets himself. But eventually his first, shocked moan runs out, and he picks up the same rhythm Kurama uses. They make a mess of him, awful sounds as they move in him together and spilling slick down the crack of his ass. They'll need a shower once they're done anyway, so Kurama pays the sheets no mind.
"Please," Hiei rasps with his head thrown back, chin quivering. "Please, I need…"
Hiei's words break like waves on a shore as Kurama shoves a third finger into him, five in all between the two of them. He's properly full, now, but it's not want he wants.
"Yes? What were you trying to say?"
Hiei has to force his head back down to glare at Kurama.
"I need it. Hurry up."
"So impolite, Hiei," Kurama scolds him. His fingers slow to a stop and almost pull out entirely. "Try again."
His wiggling and squeezing around the barest tips of Kurama's fingers will do nothing to coax the fox back inside him. Head falling heavily back to the bed, a frustrated cry rips out of Hiei's bitten lips.
"Please, damn you, you know I need it. Just do it, just fuck me, fucking please!"
He smiles sweetly down at Hiei, clearly pleased with Hiei's desperation, and purrs, "Better. See how easy that was? If only you were so forthcoming all the time, Hiei, you could have what you want sooner."
Kurama grins at the way Hiei gnashes his teeth to not blurt out more obscenities to that. But he has Hiei worn down and past the point of pride, so it's time to give the poor thing what he wants. Kurama has to pull away to remove his clothes, and he relishes the sigh Hiei lets loose as he does so. No more fighting him or making demands. Hiei knows they're finally moving on. His legs come down as Kurama steps away, but he leaves his fingers between his cheeks. Their strokes are lazy, now, meant to soothe the ache Kurama is about to cure. Kurama drinks his fill of watching Hiei while peeling his clothes off. They stick to the sweat on his back and where it gathers at the waistband of his pants. He actually breathes a sigh of relief once his skin is bare to the thick air of his room. He'd open a window, but Hiei's screams and the smell of them might attract unwanted attention—from humans and demons.
For now, Kurama must deal with the warm, sticky air. The slow roll of Hiei's hips and his harsh breathing call him back to the bed. Hiei startles when the mattress dips under Kurama's knees, but he settles back down just as quickly. He doesn't resist Kurama when a caress at his wrist tells him to stop what he's doing. Hiei pulls out of himself with a shudder and a sigh, but Kurama kisses his cheek as thanks for his cooperation. Kurama then wrangles Hiei by the hips and scoots him up the bed, lying properly on one of the pillows. Kurama snatches another to stuff under Hiei's lower back, propping him up. The remaining one fluffs up around Hiei's heavy head. He looks completely ruined when he peels open murky eyes and watches Kurama through thin slits.
With Hiei's legs weak and pliant, Kurama picks them up once again by the backs of his knees. The insides of Hiei's shins rasp softly over Kurama's hips when he positions the poor demon how he wants. Face to face will work best right now. Kurama has to make good on his personal promise of tearing into Hiei and tasting his feverish blood. And he's always preferred to face Hiei while they fuck so he can watch his little spark fall apart and finally give up his pride. Hiei's pride is absent by now, and he barely grunts when Kurama pushes his thighs farther apart and takes himself in hand.
He says nothing while scooting into position on his knees. He's been tipping on the edge of a full hard on since Hiei had plopped into his lap earlier. Now with Hiei spread out like a feast before him, Kurama finally pays attention to his needs. Only for a moment, of course. Just long enough for Hiei to squirm and roll his head around, impatient as always. Kurama is keen to sit up and watch Hiei during the initial plunge into him. He already teases the demon, dragging the head of his cock around Hiei's used hole. He stares down to watch Hiei twitch and flinch, trying to rock his hips down and impale himself.
A hand tugging lightly at his hair draws Kurama's head up. Once Hiei had his attention, he tugs again. Kurama comes as he's called all the way down until Hiei loops both arms around his neck. Hiei's breaths are loud right next to his ear, and the intimacy of the moment flips Kurama's stomach a few times. Hiei trembles under him, waiting and needing him, but always unable to say so. Huffing a little laugh into Hiei's hair, Kurama nuzzles him while pushing forward and guiding them together.
Hiei gasping his name, choking on the sound, sends a shiver down Kurama's spine. And although he hadn't planned on holding Hiei tightly to him for this, he doesn't mind Hiei clinging with arms and legs locked around him. Like this, all of Hiei's noises, no matter how muffled or bitten back, tickle his ears. A gasp or moan rips out of him with every pop of Kurama's hips. Kurama can't even hear the filthy sounds of them rutting together over Hiei's voice. He's never this vocal unless in the middle of a cycle. It takes all of Kurama's skill and attention as a lover to ever unwind Hiei like this.
He smiles into Hiei's hair and rolls his hips faster, harder into him. Hiei answers in kind by squeezing around him and rocking with his motions. The slick glide of them together is heaven, and Kurama wonders between breaths if he can coax Hiei to tighten up. Sitting up doesn't trigger Hiei's arms to jerk him back down. Kurama even manages to brush them away by lifting one hand from Hiei's hips. More bruises will paint his tan skin, but they'll serve as a reminder to Hiei once this is over.
Hiei's eyes flutter open as Kurama sits back. Cool air sweeps in to take his place, playing with the strands of Hiei's bangs not stuck to his forehead. The Jagan is securely shut, Hiei's concentration too blown to try and use it for any purpose. He may have lifted the image of Kurama's hands coming up and circling around his neck if he could control it, though. So he jumps and flings his head back when those smooth palms grab him and long fingers dig into his neck. Kurama's thumbs cross over the ridge of Hiei's windpipe. And then everything squeezes.
Sure enough, as Kurama had thought, Hiei's body flinches like a whip and tightens where he's sunk inside the demon. He catches Hiei's scream and holds it under his hands. The bed rocks under them as Hiei stills, unable to reciprocate Kurama's movements and throw the momentum back at him. Each thundering smack of Kurama's hips sends a little shockwave through Hiei's body, despite Kurama's iron grip at his neck. Hiei chokes and strains, holding on to Kurama's wrists with white knuckles. Kurama of course wouldn't really throttle him. His grip is just right enough to fade the edges of Hiei's sight to red and white and then black as he squeezes harder.
Hiei goes silent, and Kurama's ears finally pick up on the wet smack between their bodies. His own breaths roar in his ears as he holds Hiei down by the neck and fucks him harder. Through pleasure-narrowed eyes, Kurama watches Hiei mouth his name over and over. The sound is trapped in his throat, captured by Kurama's hands to be felt rather than heard. Hiei's eyes have surely rolled back in his head by this point. Kurama can't tell with Hiei's eyes shut so tightly like that. Hiei's grip on his wrists slackens just a bit, and Kurama knows it's time to ease up. With Hiei's pulse thundering hard under his palms, Kurama lets go.
Hiei's body jerks under him hard enough to strain a muscle or two when he sucks in a breath. No sooner does he breathe then he's coming between them in hot spurts. His voice drags over each breath, frantic and high as he moans through his orgasm. Kurama holds his hips down and shudders with his shoulder up by his ears, trying to keep up his rhythm despite the vice clamping in waves around him. Kurama bends down near Hiei's fluttering pulse and bites him again as he pitches over the edge, coming inside him. Hiei flinches and moans under his teeth, but this time Kurama doesn't let go or keep the bite gentle.
The sharp edges of his teeth slice through taut skin and finally taste blood. Hiei tightening up just a bit more from the pain drags Kurama's orgasm out longer, and he muffles a groan in the flesh between his teeth. He jerks between Hiei's weak, trembling thighs until he can breathe again. It's only once he's spent and empty does he collapse on top of Hiei. His weight knocks a grunt out of Hiei, and Kurama kisses the bloody teeth marks as an apology. Not for this, but for smothering him a little.
A hand paws once more at his hair. Hiei's tremor is obvious even through the red strands. Sighing against sweaty skin, Kurama picks his head up. He plans on moving off Hiei, assuming that's Hiei's reason for poking at him. But Hiei's fingers tightening in his hair stops him. Hiei tugs up, not even looking, and asks him to come closer. He guides Kurama all the way up until their breaths blow over each other's face. Refusing to open his eyes, Hiei finds Kurama's mouth by trial and error, first dragging his lips over the curve of Kurama's jaw and then his chin.
Hiei's desire for a kiss surprises the fox, but Kurama won't deny him. Hiei allows him so little in terms of intimacy like this. Kurama worms a hand between them to hold Hiei where his jaw meets his head to direct their kisses better. A breath stutters past Hiei's lips between their kisses, and it sounds so much like a happy sigh that Kurama smiles when they connect again. He doesn't mean for Hiei to take that as teasing, but he must. He leans his head back the next time Kurama tries to kiss him.
"Get off," he mumbles. "You're heavy."
"Mmm, no, I don't think I will," Kurama purrs right back, already urging their mouths together again. Their lips brush when he adds, "I'm quite content where I am."
Hiei snorts against his mouth, but he allows Kurama to start their lazy kisses up again. It's all Kurama can manage at this point. Exhaustion from sating Hiei's hunger for hands and teeth creeps up on the old fox now that he knows it's over. Kurama hums into their next kiss and scrapes together enough concentration and energy to coax a vine to open the window. It's stifling in here now that they're finished and touching almost everywhere. A breeze rolls in the moment the lock and latch of the window give. The cooler air rolls over the sweat on Kurama's back and rips a pleased shiver out of him. Far away and down the bed, his toes curl in the messy sheets just before he kicks the fabric away. Everything will need washing later—the bedding, their clothes, them. Those are all chores for future-Kurama, he decides. Hiei is warm and finally still under him, finally wrung dry of his hunger. Now is the time to sleep.
"I hate to kiss and leave you," he mumbles into the corner of Hiei's mouth, "but someone has kept me up for days, and I'm tired."
"Sleep, then. I don't care."
Kurama hums at that and moves off Hiei just enough to get comfortable. Their legs are still tangled together, and half his chest pins Hiei down. They both know Hiei can slide out from under him and leave if wants to.
"If you stay," he mumbles into Hiei's shoulder, "I'll make dinner and wash your clothes."
A huff shakes the chest pinned beneath his, and then Hiei grumbles, "If you're going to sleep, then shut up and do it."
Kurama smiles at his surly attitude, knowing for sure that Hiei is over the worst of his cycle. He sleeps and hopes Hiei does stay, will indulge him in closeness for a few moments more before stealing himself away like he always does.
The hum of the washing machine halfway through a load coaxes him awake later. Hiei curls up tightly under his arm, back to him. Kurama hides a smile—wider than the one he'd fallen asleep wearing—in Hiei's clean hair. Hiei stirs at the uptick of his pulse, knowing he's awake, and wiggles under Kurama's arm. He rolls over to face Kurama, shoots him a tiny glare, and then tucks himself under Kurama's chin. Blinking to the clean and tidy room behind Hiei's back, Kurama settles his arm over Hiei's hip and holds him close. Hiei is warm under the hand Kurama splays between his shoulder blades. His touch rouses a shiver out of the demon, and Hiei burrows deeper between his arms. And if Kurama's heart skips a beat and his smile widens above Hiei's head, he keeps it to himself.