Also, I think I really defeated the point of a Meme. Other than fun and inspirational uses to ward away writer's block...I'm pretty sure each entry is only about twenty paragraphs too long...
This is why I fail at one shots. My entries that shouldn't be more than a paragraph or two end up being one-shots and my one-shots end up being chapter-fics....
Kurama held her against his chest, blood dripping from the kimono so tightly wrapped around her. It protected her from the cold she couldn’t feel. Tears slowly fell from crystal green eyes, contrasting the blood splattered over the pale face.
There should have been another way. He should have been faster, stronger, better. He could have saved her.
Red eyes fluttered open, icy fingers brushed against his cheek, smearing their owner’s blood. Sea-foam green hair blew in the frigid wind, strands caught by the matted liquid shared between their two bodies.
Yukina smiled gently as her fingers fell from the kitsune’s face. “Thank you, Kurama.”
The fox screamed, expression contorted into horror and mourning as the body he held so tightly to his fell limp in his arms.
He’d failed her – failed her brother – failed everyone. Yukina was dead and it was all his fault.
And Hiei was going to kill him.
Kurama gave another weak cry of outrage, trying to summon his strength and his courage. But several days with minimal water and food had left his throat dry and his voice cracking.
He pulled at the restraints tying him down to the old chair. He had to get out of here – back to the others. Who knew what these bastards were doing to them.
Emerald eyes shot up as the old door – the only entrance in and out of his confined room – opened with a creaking moan, as only old doors can do. Angry but still fearing another round of torture with Jaganshi’s men, he fisted his hands and prepared for the worst.
His eyes widened at the man who entered the room and part of him immediately relaxed in the chair, set face settling on a more surprised, but welcoming expression. “Yomi,” he said with a light smile. “I was worried freak with all the piercings was back for more.”
The auburn colored eyes of the short man before him merely stared, wordless, for a moment before giving a nod. He closed the door behind him, something that would have seemed ominous had Kurama not started to feel safe in this man’s presence.
“Shigure’s out cold right now – drunk,” the short man finally replied, leaning languidly against the door and shoving his hands in his pockets. There was a slight smirk on his childish face.
Kurama couldn’t help the smile he returned; this man had become like a friend, despite the fact that he worked for the very man Kurama had come to kill. “My bleeding lip and still pounding head hopes he wakes up with the worst hangover he’s ever experienced.”
The man by the door just nodded, one of his ways of expressing amusement. Silence stretched between the two, perhaps a bit expecting and awkward for the redheaded prisoner strapped to the chair in the center of the room. His visitor enjoyed the stretched silence.
The spiky-haired man, whose hair rose a good couple of inches above his head and almost naturally so, was the quiet type. He liked to observe Kurama more than talk with him, though he never stopped the redhead from doing so.
His voice was a beautiful thing to hear.
And therein laid the problem. Everything about the prisoner was beautiful, even as he sat, a captive in a dim and deteriorating prison, slightly bloodied and worse for wear. The auburn-eyed man found himself more and more drawn to the redhead until there could only be one explanation for the irrational desire to be near him.
He was becoming emotionally attached.
Well, actually even he could call that out as complete and utter bullshit. He wasn’t just emotionally attached.
He was quite possibly falling for the damn assassin.
Which left a multitude of problems with few solutions, one in particular standing out among the rest. Exactly how was he going to tell the beauty before him that his name wasn’t Yomi and that he was, in fact, Jaganshi Hiei, the man Kurama had been sent to assassinate?
Hiei let out a delectable scream, the majority remaining audible despite the thick length of plant life pulsing in and out of his throat and mouth. Somewhere in his mind, in a small portion not yet turned to an incomprehensive puddle of lust, an odd thought occurred to him. Was it possible, if the vines thrusting into him went any deeper, that they’d meet somewhere in the middle of him?
As that small remaining portion of his brain was consumed by the overwhelming lust, he found himself thinking, instead, yes. Yes they could.
And then he found himself incapable of thinking at all.
Hiei didn’t care that they were on a ‘mission’. He didn’t care that they were supposed to ‘tread carefully’ around these demons. He didn’t care that these weaklings were supposedly great demonic ancestors long ago sealed in an alternate world; a ‘bubble’ separated from the rest of the Makai.
He didn’t care because no one touched his Kurama.
And when he later found out that, for some completely absurd and utterly idiotic reason, slapping someone’s left cheek was the equivalent of a marriage proposal…
Well, he couldn’t exactly claim remorse for killing the demon.
Of course, dealing with a pissed, schizophrenic water demon claiming to be king of the dumb bubble world, wasn’t something he really enjoyed.
Neither was Koenma giving him another hundred years’ parole.
Kurama’s ‘thank you’, however, was something he did enjoy. Several times, in fact.
5. First Time:
Hiei let out a grunt as he was pinned to the bed, staring up at Kurama in something akin to suspicious disapproval. “What are you doing?”
The fox just smiled, beginning a trail of kisses from his soon-to-be lover’s chest up to his lips. “Well, Hiei, I’m about to fuck you senseless. Though such a thing would be easier if you stopped squirming.”
Hiei’s glare deepened, his movements doubling. “What the hell makes you think you’re topping me?”
The youko laughed, sitting back, though still holding the fire demon’s wrists tightly to the bed. “I’m afraid, my love, that your inexperienced body will never top me in this form.”
Hiei, never one to back down from a challenge, let a feral grin stretch across his features as purple light began glowing from beneath his bangs.
And as a sore and limping Kurama discovered the next morning, you never insult an owner of the Jagan.
The redhead gave a content sigh, looking down at the sleeping demon enveloped in his arms. With the sunlight filtering down on them through the canopy of the trees, the birds chirping from lofty branches, the cool breeze stirring their air, it was a beautiful morning. And looking at the peaceful figure curling in his lap and against his chest, fully trusting the fox, he smiled.
Yes, despite the numerous tear gems surrounding the two, it was still a beautiful morning.
(I would like to state that on my initial posting...I totally left this one blank. Guess that shows where my genre preference lies...)
"It wasn't my fault!"
Despite his protests, Kurama was still burning under the glare of the fire demon.
"Okay, so it was relatively my fault, but you can't blame me completely! It was an accident!"
The glare only intensified and Kurama was caught between flinching and laughing.
"Really, Hiei, how was I supposed to know it would happen?"
Hiei's eyes seemed to widen in their glare, as if stating 'this is why its your fault!'. Kurama had to turn his eyes from the demon to keep his laughter tightly secured in his chest.
"Honestly, if it bothers you so much, perhaps you shouldn't...encourage the youko in me."
The flowers on the counter - the beautiful roses he had grown his mother just the other day - burst into flames. Kurama stared at them in a manner of amused mourning as Hiei stood and limped away.
A pale hand covering his mouth was all that kept Kurama from laughing out loud (which would have gotten him set aflame).
Really, it wasn't his fault that his youko side had been...what's the appropriate term? Agressively needy?
Hiei reached his hand out, a part of him he was wholly unfamiliar with aching to do something, anything, to make the fox stop crying. He’d never seen Kurama like this.
Angry, yes. Hurt, yes. Even sad. But never in tears.
That hand hesitated, pulling back as his mind second guessed his body’s initial reaction. He wasn’t even sure Kurama knew he was there, but the part of him that wanted the fox to stop – the aching inside of him that would do anything to keep from seeing those tears ever again – forced him to move.
And so he kneeled beside his partner’s hunched body and put a hand to his chin, lifting the blood splattered, yet still beautiful face.
“She’s dead.” Kurama’s hollowed words and empty eyes shook Hiei to the core and the fire demon realized that no amount of mental hesitation could keep him from the fox any longer.
Hiei enveloped the redhead into his arms, gently pulling him away from his mother’s broken body. And held him until he stopped crying.
And never again let go.
Kurama’s nails dug into the grouting of the slick tiles. His breath came in heavy pants, creating a light cloud of condensation on the ceramic squares of his shower. Each gasping breath replenished the foggy puddle before it could fully fade, feeding the ever changing vapor marks in rhythmic beat with his whimpers.
Hot, wet fingers slid in and out of him as the heat and steam from the shower floated around him. He arched his body, red hair clinging to his neck and face, sliding down his back with the cascading water. His arched body gave him more flexibility and he twisted his wrist, fingers pushing even deeper into himself.
He gave a low moan at the new sensation and pushed a third finger in. Kurama knew he was close; his legs shook, feet planted firmly on the wet ground in a wide stance. His other hand shakily left the tiles, white flecks of grout underneath his fingernails. He needed release, even if he was going to give it to himself.
“Enough.” The deep voice behind the fox was accompanied by a hand that grabbed his wrist. He was left with cold emptiness as his own fingers were pulled from within him. The kitsune whimpered his companion’s name.
Kurama gasped as he was suddenly spun around and pushed against the wall. The redhead let out a strangled sound at the cold tiled wall pressing against his back and the incredible heat of Hiei’s body flushed along his front.
Those intense red eyes stared into his own and the pool of desire in his groin swirled stronger. He let out a needy whine, pushing his hips off of the wall and against his lover’s naked form.
The fire demon groaned, eyes fluttering for a moment and losing their dominant intensity. The warning in those pupils as he recovered, however, promised punishment if the fox continued.
Kurama could only grin in anticipation as his stomach and loins fluttered in anxiety.
“Up.” His lover’s famous use of one syllable commands seemed to be turned on in full as the fire demon wrapped his hands around Kurama’s thighs and pulled. The fox let out a husky moan as his legs were lifted and spread, Hiei pushing himself between them.
He wrapped his legs around the smaller fire demon, his own thin frame held between the wall and Hiei’s strong body. Emerald eyes locked with red as the tip of his lover’s member pressed at his entrance.
Kurama wrapped his arms around Hiei’s neck and let himself fall onto the pulsing heat.
Kurama gave a loud cry, his body arching off the bed, as he came into his hand. He rode his climax out, tense muscles gleaming in the moonlight, features tightened in pleasure, hair forming a halo that framed his beautiful face.
He collapsed back to the bed, panting as he released his length. Coming down from the high granted by masturbation, he sat up and ran a hand through sweat slicked strands of hair.
He really was tired of this. His body craved physical contact, worsened by human puberty and his demonic addiction to sex. Kurama certainly hadn’t calculated how painful ten years of his life would be when he’d jumped into this body.
There was no way he could satisfy himself in his human form, not with the intensity of his youko cravings.
Growling, the redhead collapsed back into the sheets. He needed to clean himself up, but he was far too frustrated and exhausted to attempt the trip to the bathroom (he should have learned by now to keep the box of tissues by his bed).
It was all that damn fire demon’s fault. Yes, Kurama had chosen to blame Hiei for his current predicament. It was as if the fire demon had a sudden case of separation anxiety.
Everywhere he went, Hiei now accompanied him. And, he was sure it was his overactive imagination, but the fire demon constantly seemed to accidentally touch him – brush against his arm, linger a little too long when handing him something, graze a certain area between his legs.
Kurama still hadn’t figured out exactly how that one had been an accident.
It was like the fire demon had realized a new game and delighted in seeing the hyper-sensitive fox react to his touch.
With a growl, and deciding that anger after masturbation just wasted the pleasure, he got up and stalked to the bathroom, unaware that he was displaying his striking nude form to the fire demon sitting outside his window.
Hiei watched rather predatorily as his fox disappeared into the bathroom. Teasing the hormonal fox certainly had its advantages, especially when he would later take out his sexual frustration on his lithe, arousing body in full view of the mischievous hiyoukai.
The fire demon just grinned and left, needing a little clean up of his own.