As eternity flows by

It was amusing, Kurama thought, the way everyone went quiet when he bumped into Yusuke for the first time in the Makai. As if they were expecting something to explode, or a deathmatch. Ridiculous. Yusuke had grinned and made a joke (with anyone else it would have been a macho comment or a hug, but Kurama got a grin and a joke), and Kurama had smiled, and it had been quite nice, all things considered.

It was also painfully obvious that Yusuke still didn't quite understand that Kurama had pulled off a subtle coup, but that was okay; Yusuke was no tactician.

He walked into the room, and Hiei was there; at the window, as always, one leg dangling, one leg pulled up, bored expression fixed firmly on his face as if it could ever hide the maelstrom of emotion seething within from anyone who knew how to look. There were others there - his own team of fighters, a few from Mukuro's side, others without any firm allegiance - but they faded into insignificance.

He was aware of the sudden tension in the room. It made him feel vaguely amused, that they had fallen for his strategy. What was between the two of them ran deeper than petty politics, deeper than alliance, deeper, in a way, than even emotion. The nature of that bond shifted continually, from friends to wary associates to traitor and betrayed to lovers to partners, but the permanence of that bond was something neither he nor Hiei questioned. It was there, and so would they be - past life and death and everything in between; ugly as their relationship could turn, it was the anchor of their turbulent lives.

He breathed in deep, and through the scents of the dozens of demons in the room, he sought Hiei's - metal and forests and blood, with a hint of smoke, though that could have been the taste of his power. Scent was a powerful weapon to a kitsune - fear, adrenalin, rage, lust, truth, lie, all lay exposed to his sensitive nose. And Hiei's scent, he knew it in his bones - the acrid residue of his dragon clinging to his arm, the faint smell of blood and metal from his sword, his sweat when he lay in Kurama's arms, radiating lust. He smelt healthier now, more determined, more alive. These months had changed him.

He could smell him now, and Kurama lifted his head, met his crimson gaze calmly, directly. To anyone else, Hiei would have looked disdainful and vaguely irritable, but Kurama knew the lust, brutally controlled, rising slowly in his scent; pheromones creating a similar result in him.

The room faded to a dull roar in his mind. He inhaled deeply, catching his scent, resisting the urge not to part his lips, taste it as well as smell it, to cross the room and pull him up and crush the indifference from his mouth and the control from his body and reveal his boredom for the mask it was, see him open and waiting and trembling with the anticipation of touch, taste, lips and tongue and hands everywhere.

He watched him quietly, and in the slight shift of Hiei's body he could read rising desire, raw need in the slight flaring of his nostrils, in his narrowing eyes the control he was struggling not to lose. Another deep breath, and he could feel Hiei all around him as if he were a presence in the air, memories of his hands on him, of being taken ruthlessly, of his deceptively small hands caressing him, of sharp teeth biting into skin, the taste of his blood, dark and powerful as fire on his tongue, those furious jaded eyes soft and wide and surprised with need and love.

Kurama raised an eyebrow, let his lips quirk up in amusement. He had thought they were past these games, but Hiei could be strange at times. He let nothing show, waiting for his reply. For him to make the first move, to determine which direction they would let their bond take next.

He saw the faint twitch of Hiei's lips, a blend of amusement, affection, anger and admiration, and then it shifted into a smirk which was challenge and acceptance all at once.

Kurama smiled briefly, knowing only Hiei would understand, waiting for the others in the room to relax and start ignoring them again. He was distantly curious what the others' conclusion had been, but it was nothing worth investigating. He set off towards Yusuke, relishing the sharp thrilling anticipation , the joy of not knowing and yet knowing that raced through both of them. Knowing Hiei would have turned away already, even though he couldn't see him.

They were what they were, it was simple as that, and it went beyond adoring looks and pretty words, was as simple as the feel of Hiei once again in the corner of his mind, the prickling foresight of what would come later, the spiraling dizzying awareness of him racing through every bone in Kurama's body.

That was more than enough.