Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own an anime series. If I did, I don't think I'd be writing fanfiction. . Not that I'm complaining.

Notes: A new summary is up now that this story is better planned out and not just a first attempt at an AU to avoid writer's block!

Warnings: As stated in the summary, this is yaoi. If you are not a fan of such things, please do not continue reading what you will not enjoy. Thank you.

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Content

Chapter 1

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--click--

Stupid, stupid, stupid Urameshi.

--click--

Why the hell couldn't he take his own damn shots?

--click--

It will really save my life, my ass. Damn ten minutes notice.

The short man gave an irritated growl as he stowed his camera away, back into it's well-padded, black carrying bag. Zipping the top shut to keep any of the soon-to-come rain off the highly advanced piece of equipment (not to mention costly!) the man turned and began down the fragmented sidewalk.

"Stupid Yusuke," he growled once more as a distant roll of thunder had him hunching his shoulder to puff up the high collar of his trench coat. Glaring up at the sky, he once more checked the safety of his camera, before starting down the street, his coat wrapped tightly around his thin frame.

Hiei Jaganshi, photographer of Hakushiki Magazine, hated the rain. Throughout his entire life, that cold, murky form of weather had always been present during his worst times. As if it's entire existence was simply to make life miserable.

Whether it was to dampen his clothes and drench his hair or even go so far as to cause a near-death experience, the rain had always been there to thwart him.

The small-framed man was almost famous for his child-like appearance. Short in height, Hiei could not be much over five feet, even including his spiky hair.

The long tresses of his midnight colored locks were the oddest of all his appearance. Sticking straight up to defy all laws of gravity, his black but blue-tipped hair had long ago become a signature notable primarily by the star-shaped portion above his forehead, dyed the purest white.

Almost as known as his anti-gravitated hair, Jaganshi's large, oddly colored eyes had always been an object of many stares. The bloody depths of his deeply crimson eyes always had such an intensity to them that few could discern the truth behind their authenticity.

Yet we speak as if the world would know this young man's face. This, alas, is not the case. Although far from world famous, or even obtaining countrywide acknowledgement, the young photographer had quickly climbed the charts with his near perfect shots.

The twenty four year old had easily gotten his job at Hakushiki Magazine when he brought in a live shot of a robbery, the picture having so much perfection in its timing that, even if the burglars had not been caught beforehand, the picture could have named them in the hands of expert detectives.

Hiei didn't truly know why he got such amazing pictures. Photography was his hobby-turned-profession. He admitted that, yes, he did have talent but most of his success could only be granted by pure luck.

Right place at the right time.

The story of his new life.

The oxymoron of his past.

Well, something had to eventually turn to his favor, right?

Hiei growled as the rain began pouring down, pinging on the ground with enough force to create a steam-like appearance against the asphalt and sidewalk.

-o-o-o-

"There."

Yusuke Urameshi, three-year journalist of Hakushiki Magazine, glanced up as a small, pale hand slammed down on his desk, a manila folder face down under that palm. He glanced up to see angry red eyes glaring at him in a mix of triumphant annoyance.

All the raven-haired writer could do was smile. "You saved my ass, Hiei."

"So I kept telling myself," the photographer answered, pulling back his hand for his long-term friend to pull the manila folder towards him. "And yet, somehow, that did so little to quell my annoyance."

Yusuke could only widen his smirk as he pulled the large photographs from their protective paper. His teasing smile quickly turned to one of almost simple happiness. The pictures, as they always were, had beautiful resolution and held an elegance of simplicity that told much more than any words could describe.

The journalist smiled, appreciating the work put in to the shots, as he set the pictures of the decaying apartments on his desk. "I'll get these to Touya as soon as I can. Thanks, Hiei. You really did cover my ass today."

"Yeah yeah, as always," the smaller man growled out, but there was no anger in his voice as he turned away, shouldering his camera bag and heading back out of the man's office.

Yusuke Urameshi, bold and loud-mouthed, smiled at his friend. The journalist was far from similar to the smaller man. For primary comparison, the height must be noted first. The writer's build was tall and well built yet lean with unseen muscles trained to strength.

His deep, raven-black hair was always greased back in public; too much gel to count kept it in a sleek shine. A few strands of hair, loosed from the thick goo, fell in front of his chocolate brown eyes. If anything were to be the writer's trademark, those candy eyes would have been it.

Looking deeply into those orbs, one could easily see not only Yusuke's own past, present, and future, but one's own future reflected in rich, golden brown eyes. Pain through experience showed through glimmering pools and the wisdom of age not yet reached could be easily discerned in the simplest of looks of or the sharpest of glares.

With one glance from that raven-haired mystery, one could feel his own future lay out in the writer's hands, open for everyone and everything to see.

Those eyes, at the moment, were glinting in hidden humor as they watched the back of their retreating friend.

-o-o-o-

"You're kidding me."

"Heh, not even," Yusuke grinned as he dumped the manila folder, pictures once more within the safe walls of paper, on the thick counter in front of him. Beside him, the towering man grabbed them slowly, peeping briefly within at the contents.

"How do you do it, man? Hiei hates everyone!" the beady eyed, beyond friendly, man shook his head, handing the pictures back as he opened the copier and slid in another sheet, replacing the last. Pushing the enter button, he turned back to his life long friend.

"He doesn't hate anyone," Yusuke said, tucking the envelope under his arm. "He just doesn't love anyone, either. Give him a break, it's not exactly like he's the optimistic, cheery fellow that greets everyone at the door."

"Yeah, I guess not," Kuwabara agreed reluctantly as he picked up the hundred or so copies, pulling out the original. "But I still don't understand why he goes out on a limb only when you ask him to."

"Pft, he does it when he wants to, not when I ask him to," the raven-haired writer replied as he turned, walking out of the small workroom with his companion. "I just happen to know the right time to ask. Besides, how would you know? You've never asked him for anything."

"Except his approval!" Kuwabara growled back. This man, tall and looming as he was, could be described as nothing more than the gentle giant. Standing at least six and a half feet head to toe, the pompadour styled, orange-red haired man was kind and polite to anyone and everyone who looked to even possibly return the favor.

"Che', idiot, that's because you want the hand of his only living relative! And his twin, no less!" Yusuke growled in an almost ludicrous manner. This subject had come up too many times to still stay patient with the taller man. "I told you, give him some time. He'll accept it at his own good pace and with his own damn mannerisms."

Kuwabara did not reply as Yusuke opened the door to the feature editor's office. Instead, he slipped inside with the copied papers, followed shortly by his fellow journalist.

"Hi'ya, Touya!" Yusuke greeted the icy haired man behind the desk cheerfully. Silvery blue eyes, purely natural to the last splash of color, glanced up from his computer screen when the two entered his office.

Sitting behind the modern, metallic desk in the center of the room, a couch to one side, a small table with a coffee pot and small television to the other, the feature editor of Hakushiki Magazine raised a thin, similarly blue eyebrow at the two writers.

"Please tell me you finished your story, Yusuke," the man asked, his voice already betraying his oncoming headache. Or, at least the one he was sure he'd have in a few minutes.

"Yep! Finished it and sent it to your e-mail already. Ha, you thought I wouldn't meet the deadline, didn't you?" Yusuke asked in a teasing voice, fully knowing that there were few who didn't know of his procrastinating nature.

"Without a doubt, Yusuke," Touya answered truthfully and without a moment's hesitation. He shook his head to the journalist's pouting form of reply and he stood, holding out his hand to the manila folder Yusuke held. "Jaganshi's photos, I presume?"

"Correctly, of course." The raven-haired man easily handed him the folder even as Kuwabara shifted to drop the papers on the editor's desk.

"Those inserts you wanted, Touya," he replied almost grimly as he pulled away. "I'm not doing those this time. Find someone else before you hit a deadline."

Touya gave a small smile, nodding at the orange-topped man. "Of course, I owe you for the last issue."

Kuwabara merely mumbled some agreement, but there held no bitterness in the grumble and a small roll of his beady black eyes left Touya knowing the taller man held no grudge.

"Okay, I'll put your story in the layout, Urameshi, but only because you keep telling me it's so damn good," the light, aqua-blue haired man once more addressed Yusuke, sitting back down to enter his e-mail account and retrieve the "fabled" story. "I have a deadline to make, so I'll see you two later."

The two men took that as their cue to leave and both turned, exiting the office to leave the editor alone to his precious work.

-o-o-o-

"No."

"Come on, man, I owe you one."

"No."

"Come on, you never do anything after work but…more work!"

"No, Yusuke."

"It's just a bar!"

"What part of 'No' does your brain just not comprehend?" Hiei zipped up his bag, glancing around to make sure he'd grabbed everything. The raven-haired man beside him was pouting again.

"But you never come with Kuwabara and me! It's just a few drinks, Hiei," Yusuke said as he leaned against the pillar-like support for their particular floor.

The plain, almost borderline boring cubicle formed "office" that Hiei resided in was small and absent of those annoying, claustrophobia-inducing walls that so many offices held nowadays. In fact, the entire floor of Hakushiki Magazine was just desks arranged in a semi-orderly fashion throughout the floor, the personal offices lining the side walls.

"I told you no, I meant no, I'm sticking with no!" Hiei growled out as he shouldered his small, black bag and turned. Weaving out of the line of desks, he began heading for the back of the office, towards the chrome elevators.

Yusuke put his hand on the elevator door, stopping Hiei from moving towards the button. He leaned in mockingly as he taunted, "It's just a few drinks."

"And you're so close I can already smell your drunk breath." Hiei ducked his arm, going underneath and feeling incredibly foolish as he played London Bridge with his damn coworker. He pressed the down button, praying the doors would open so Yusuke would fall on his face from propping against them.

"Aw, you're such a jerk, man!" Yusuke, who had had no alcohol recently, pushed off the wall seconds before the annoying "ding" went off, signaling that the elevator had arrived. Hiei only snorted, his good wishes thwarted, and stepped into the elevator.

His coworker followed.

"It's just drinks."

"You've said that. Twice now, I believe."

"Well, it's just that!"

"And it's just not happening!"

"What, you scared of having fun?"

Hiei sent a long, hard glare at the man. Damn it, if there was one person who knew how to manipulate him, it was the dumb, stupid, mother fu-

The fire demon gave a silent sigh. "Fine. Drinks, but that's it."

Yusuke let a triumphant smirk show. The raven-haired man turned away, staring at their reflection in the elevator door as it began to descend. "Right, just drinks."

Those chocolate brown eyes seemed to glint mischievously, an occurrence that Hiei did not miss.

'God, what have I gotten myself into?'

-o-o-o-

Author's Notes:

…long tresses of his midnight colored locks… If you think about it, I really like that description of Hiei's hair. Because, even at night, the sky will often look a color of midnight blue mixed with darkness close enough to be black, I chose that color to describe Hiei's hair, since he has black hair but blue tips. I have no idea why I fancy this, but I do. 8D

…A few strands of hair, loosed from the thick goo, fell… Did you know that "Goo" is not a real word? Funny…you know, everyone uses it, too. 8P

End Author's Notes

Wow, I actually think that's all of them. Short and sweet and never to the point.

Hope you guys liked it and please review.