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Kurama has long since figured out how to coax the little demon away from his spot underneath the window and onto his bed. Sometimes, if Hiei is in a particularly amiable mood, he will lay next to Kurama-- above the covers. Kurama hasn't found a way past that barrier yet-- but usually he stays at the foot of the bed, curled around himself like a cautious, feral cat. Kurama never fights him about his choice of where to sleep, he's happy enough that Hiei decides to spend the night here in his space, instead of in a tree or warehouse or any of the other cold, abandoned places he finds around the city. Tonight though, Kurama is of a mind to push the fire demon a bit more than he's used to. They're leaving on the ship for the Dark Tournament tomorrow, so for once Kurama does not want Hiei at his feet-- where he's afraid to turn over or stretch out in case he moves too fast and Hiei, always so skittish when it involves touching, flees back to the safety of the floor. Kurama wants him at the head of the bed with him. He wants to feel the heat from Hiei's body soak into the mattress until it feels like he's laying on hot sand. He wants Hiei's scent-- smoke and mint and something so wild-- to fill his nose and cling heavy in the back of his throat. He wants to hear the words Hiei mumbles in his sleep-- nonsense, mostly. Sometimes names. His own, once-- in his ear as he drifts off. Kurama's being a little selfish tonight (a lot selfish, maybe), but he needs this from his partner. They don't know what's waiting for them at the tournament, but whatever it is, Kurama knows it will be dangerous. He needs one more night of safe and familiar. That'll be enough to get him through the next few days, he thinks.
“Hiei,” he says, as the little demon kicks off his boots and pulls off his cloak. He watches him pick them up and then unceremoniously toss them towards the bag Kurama packed for them that's sitting by the desk. Hiei has agreed to wear the new clothes Kurama bought for him tomorrow, which in and of itself is a miracle. Perhaps he's pushing his luck a little too much tonight. The fire demon is only willing to bend so far. “Hiei,” Kurama tries again after another few moments of silence. Hiei removes his sword and places it carefully in its usual spot under the window. Afterwards, he pulls off the rest of his clothes and changes into the shirt and shorts Kurama had left out for him. He still won't acknowledge the fox.
Kurama sighs and sits up. This, of all things, finally gets Hiei's attention. He turns and watches the fox warily. He's much more used to the older demon patiently waiting for him to decide to respond, no matter how long it takes. But Kurama doesn't want to be patient tonight, and he shows this by scooting closer to the wall and patting the now empty space beside him. “Sleep here tonight,” he says.
Hiei stiffens, and his eyes flick from where Kurama wants him to the safety of his spot under the window. The foot of the bed doesn't even seem to be a compromise he will make tonight. Kurama waits to see what he will choose, and whether or not he's going to have to fight Hiei about this, but then the little demon meets his gaze, staring at him with those wide, unblinking eyes. He must be searching Kurama's face for something, and apparently sees it there, because in the next moment Hiei is by the bed. He climbs up and slowly crawls forward-- and Kurama is reminded of a cat again, one who's testing the waters to see if there is danger or safety here, prepared to flee at any sign of the former. He stays as still as he can, and lets Hiei decide how he wants to lay. The fire demon chooses on his side, his back to Kurama. Once the fox is sure he's settled, Kurama leans over to switch off the bedside lamp. His curtain of red hair falls over his shoulder and swings down to brush across Hiei's face.
Hiei stiffens again, so Kurama stops. He's not patient tonight, but he's also not so stupid that he can't tell when he needs to give Hiei a moment. Hiei relaxes after a few tense seconds, so Kurama turns off the light, casting them in almost complete darkness.
“You're nervous about tomorrow,” Hiei says as Kurama lays back down. It's the first thing he's said since he crawled through the window tonight.
“Yes,” Kurama answers truthfully. As demons, both Hiei and Kurama can see in the dark. It's not perfect vision, colors are muted, shadows are harsher. Even so, he can easily make out Hiei's hand reaching behind him to grab the strands of Kurama's hair that are splayed across the pillows, can make out his head turning towards his shoulder, not quite far enough to actually look at Kurama. He twines the fox's hair around his fingers.
“Why?” he asks.
Sometimes, Hiei can be so innocent, so simple. Why, indeed? How does Kurama even begin to explain everything he's heard about this tournament? How does he explain the brutality; the backstabbing, blackmail, and bribery. Every demon in that ring will be scrambling for the grand prize. Nothing will stand in their way-- friend or foe. Demons are vicious, they are bloodthirsty, and they never fight fair. That's always been the way of their world, whether you're one of the few with an honor code or not. Kurama and Hiei can handle this, but he's worried about their human friends. He doesn't think Kuwabara and Yusuke truly understand what demons are willing to do for what they want.
Hiei makes a clicking sound with his tongue, likes he's annoyed, and then says, voice low, “tell the truth.”
Kurama doesn't sense the Jagan, so Hiei isn't reading his mind. Perhaps the little demon just knows him so well now, he knows exactly where Kurama's thoughts are leading. That thought sends a shiver down Kurama's spine that he doesn't have the time to explore right now-- he will later, for sure. Just not when Hiei is lying so close, when his fingers are still twisting themselves in his hair. He forces himself to focus on Hiei's words, instead. What does he want him to tell the truth about?
“I'm worried about not being as strong as I once was,” he finally settles on. And that is the crux of the matter, isn't it. Kurama is nowhere near the demon he used to be. He doesn't even know if this human-born body could reach the height of power he used to have. Kurama is stuck in this weird in-between place-- not really a human, but not fully a demon either. His senses-- like the eyesight he has right now, that even in pitch blackness can trace the delicate shape of Hiei's nose and mouth, the sharp line of his jaw-- are distinctly demon, and yet his emotions are every bit a human's. He loves much easier than he ever used to. His trust comes more freely, too. Kurama can't always figure out which side of him is stronger. And if doesn't actually know what he is, then how can he possibly figure out how to gain the strength he needs to help their team win.
“You think too much,” Hiei scoffs, and he tugs hard on the hair still trapped in his hands. It pulls just enough that there's a slight stinging in Kurama's scalp. He lets go, finally, and then curls into himself. Go to bed, is what he's saying, so Kurama does. He rolls over to settle on his back, left arm just barely brushing against the other demon.
That's the end of it. Hiei thinks Kurama's concerns are without merit, so they aren't worth having a conversation about. Kurama thinks he can fall asleep now, though his worries haven't entirely abated. It's enough, though, that he can push them aside for another night. Instead, he can think about how his partner's higher body heat has sunk into the bed, and how muzzy his brain feels from his need for sleep. He lets out a slow breath and closes his eyes.
Hiei rolling over and pressing closer to him has him wide awake again in seconds.
“We're strong enough,” Hiei whispers. His breath ghosts over Kurama's ear and, oh, he files that feeling away into the same place as the shiver he'd felt earlier. We, Hiei says, not you. That single word means more to Kurama than some empty platitude ever would. Kurama has never liked being alone, has always preferred to have someone there to watch his back. It's why he likes to have a partner, no matter how dangerous it is having someone that close to his heart. Kurama inhales and exhales another slow breath, struggling with a sudden need to calm himself. It doesn't work.
Tonight, he is not patient.
He flips over onto his side so he's facing Hiei. The fire demon's eyes grow impossibly wider-- he was clearly not expecting the fox to move. Kurama's hand lifts before he can stop himself. He brushes his fingers along Hiei's cheek.
The fox has touched the fire demon before-- a few times. Hiei doesn't allow touch very often. Usually, Kurama does it to tilt Hiei's chin up so he can see his face better-- whether he needs to check on an injury (usual) or force Hiei to stop avoiding his eyes (rare) depends. Kurama has also shifted Hiei's arms and legs when he's measuring what he needs to sew so he can hem the clothes he sometimes buys for his partner. The little demon had even allowed him to help wash the blood and grime from his hair once after a nasty battle at one of the holes into the Makai. Occasionally, Hiei will initiate the touch first, though when he does it's usually to push Kurama or smack the fox's hand away so he can get space between them again. All of this is to say that Kurama knows what Hiei's skin feels like. He knows it's warm-- but not just warm. Hiei's skin feels like a flame when he's angry, and like standing in full sunlight in the summer when he's settled and content. Kurama feels like he's being consumed every time he feels that heat brush against his own naturally cooler skin, and tonight is no different. He shivers again as his fingers run down the younger demon's cheek and then trail along his jaw. It's almost enough to burn his fingertips. He wants to bury his face into the crook of the fire demon's neck, just to see what it might feel like.
“Kurama,” Hiei says. It might be a warning, a gentle reprimand telling him he's pushing too far, or it might be a question, a hesitant request for explanation of the fox's touches. Kurama's too distracted to tell. Hiei's breath has brushed over him again as he spoke. It smells strangely sweet-- like chocolate and peppermint. Has he been stealing candy from stores again?
Hiei lets out a huff at the fox's silence-- much more distinctly annoyed this time. Kurama's lips twitch up into a smile. “Yes, Hiei?” he says, moving his hand higher so he can trace the shell of Hiei's ear.
Hiei goes still-- just for a moment-- and then relaxes again. His lips dip down into a frown as he grumbles, “you're ridiculous.”
“Why's that?” Kurama asks. He runs a finger down the bridge of Hiei's small nose.
Sometimes, Hiei still moves too fast for Kurama to see. In the blink of an eye, the little fire demon has shoved Kurama's shoulder down so he's lying on his back again. But, instead of retreating to the safe space beneath the window like the fox might expect, Hiei instead braces a hand on either side of Kurama's head and throws a leg over his hips so he's straddling him. He looms over Kurama, like something predatory, crimson eyes glowing bright even in such darkness. Kurama's breath catches in his throat.
“Stop acting like tonight's your last chance to be close to me!” Hiei snaps. His voice is barely above a whisper-- they have Shiori to consider, just at the far end of the hall-- but Kurama can easily make out the rage simmering beneath his words.
“I'm not--”
“Liar,” Hiei seethes. “We've been partners for over a year and a half now and you've never acted like this. Stop treating this like it's your last night alive.”
“It very well could be,” Kurama argues, more to distract himself from the fact that Hiei has him trapped underneath his blanket than an actual desire to fight with him. “For all we know, they might try and kill us as soon as we step onto the boat.”
“You're an idiot if you actually believe that.”
He doesn't actually believe that, not entirely. It is possible they could be attacked before they reach the island, but he doesn't think they'll be so blatant in their attempts to defeat them. Why bother inviting them, if that were the case. Still, Kurama does not trust anyone but his own teammates when it comes to this tournament. Because of that, he'd rather go into tomorrow thinking everyone is out to get them. Better to be over prepared and nothing happen at all, than let someone he cares about get hurt just because he refused to be cautious.
Kurama's paranoia aside, Hiei's still wrong. He isn't acting like this tonight because he thinks they will die in this tournament, he's doing this because, truth be told, they might. There is a very real, very horrifying chance that both of them won't make it to the end. Just thinking about it makes the fox feel like he might throw up. Kurama doesn't want any regrets. He's already carried plenty of them through his last lifetime. He doesn't want to drag any more through this new one too.
“I just want to be closer to you,” he finally explains, voice so low even Hiei might have a hard time hearing him. “Maybe I'm pushing it because of the tournament, but that's not the only reason. It's something that I desperately want. I have for a while now.”
Hiei visibly shivers. Kurama wants to see the fire demon's reaction to his words, that's the only reason he doesn't turn his head in embarrassment. He hasn't been so honest with a person in a very long time.
There's a long, heavy silence. Hiei stares at him, and Kurama knows he's searching his face for some sign of a lie. Despite how often Kurama has tried to show him over this past year and a half that Hiei is wanted, that Kurama cares about him, he still doesn't believe it. “Why?” Hiei finally asks, voice husky.
Why is it that whenever Hiei asks why, it's never an easy answer. What is he supposed to say? There's no way for Kurama to put into words how vastly his entire world has slowly started to revolve around the little fire demon above him. It's almost unfair, how much of Kurama's life is now entwined with Hiei. If he's at school, he's thinking of the last time they saw each other. If he's out shopping, he's looking for things Hiei might need. If he's with his mother, he's wondering when he'll feel the telltale prick of the other demon's youki crawling through his bedroom window. It' embarrassing, enraging, and enthralling, all in equal measure. What is it about the fire demon that makes him feel this way? Kurama's had plenty of experience with people over his many years-- whether they were allies, foes, lovers, or strangers-- and yet he's never felt this way before. Why is Hiei the one to finally drive him mad?
Kurama can't come up with a suitable answer, so instead he lifts his arms so he can slide both of his hands into Hiei's hair. It's incredibly soft-- another delicate trait Hiei has inherited from his mother's people that the fire demon hates. Hiei's eyes flutter shut as Kurama cards his fingers through the strands, but he still manages to prompt in a strangled voice, “Kurama?”
“Hiei,” Kurama hums. The tone of his voice makes Hiei open his eyes again. “Come here.”
Hiei hesitates, like he's unsure if he should trust the fox in this moment, but then he's leaning down, until his face is only an inch or two away from the fox's. Kurama seizes his chance. He tilts his head up, just enough that he can brush his lips against Hiei's mouth.
Hiei freezes. Kurama moves only enough to make sure there is space between them again. He waits to see how Hiei will react.
Skin, boiling hot from the fierce blush overtaking Hiei's face, presses against Kurama's neck. Hiei growls something incomprehensible and then, too fast for Kurama to stop him, yanks the fox's hands out of his hair and blindly pins them down onto the mattress on either side of Kurama's head, narrowly avoiding smacking Kurama in the face with his own hand. Kurama's heart does a funny little thing that briefly makes him wonder if it's about to stop beating all together. He takes a deep breath to focus himself-- not an easy feat when the skin of his neck is on fire, and when he's practically choking on the heady aroma of Hiei's scent, and when he's reeling from the thought of how easy it was for the little demon to overpower him in that quick moment. The breath comes out shaky when he exhales. He wishes desperately that he could shift Hiei's weight some so it wasn't all concentrated on his chest and hips.
“Hie--”
Sharp teeth scrape against his throat, and the name dies on Kurama's tongue. Hiei's desire for the fox to shut the hell up for once could not be clearer in this moment. Not patient, but not stupid. Kurama makes himself be as still as possible.
It takes what feels like hours but is most likely only a minute or two for Hiei to move. He lifts himself up so he's still leaning over the fox, his fingers curled tightly around Kurama's. Hiei's cheeks are still tinged pink-- and Kurama wishes so much that he still had the lights on in his bedroom so he could appreciate the full effect of that blush, and not just the washed out view he gets from his heightened senses here in the dark. Hiei looks cautious and tense and-- he'll think it, but be damned before ever saying it out loud-- pretty and Kurama is overwhelmed with the want to devour him. He want's Hiei's skin under his nails and to feel the snap of his bones with his teeth. He wants to know what it would feel like to choke on the fire demon's blood or, hell, what it would feel like to have Hiei choke him and thank every God out there that Hiei still isn't using his Jagan, because Kurama's thoughts would probably frighten him so much he'd never see the fire demon again. Hiei's eyes rake over his face and Kurama wonders what he's looking for and what exactly he can see.
“You're the stupidest fucking person I've ever met,” Hiei hisses and ow. Kurama's never had someone react that way to him kissing them before. It stings a lot more than he would have thought possible. “I told you to stop.”
“I--”
“We're going to be fine. Maybe not Yusuke and the idiot, but I don't really care about them. Us though-- you and me-- are going to make it through this stupid tournament. Together. Because in case you've forgotten, we're partners, and that means the Toguro brothers and every other demon waiting for us is going to have to pry you out of my cold dead hands before I let anything happen to you. And I know that's not going to happen because I'm stronger than anything they can throw at us.”
“Is that so?” Kurama asks, voice oddly raspy.
“Yes. You are too, by the way. I don't know why you don't believe that.”
“Because I'm scared!” Kurama finally chokes out. His face burns with shame as he gives a self-deprecating laugh. “If this was sixteen years ago, I wouldn't even entertain the thought that we might lose. But it isn't sixteen years ago and I'm not as strong as I once was. I can't control the plants I could back then. I don't have the same stamina or speed. I got hurt fighting Genbu and I never would have allowed that to happen before. The truth is... I'm not what I once was and I don't think who I am now is enough to help us win. More than anything, I want to protect you, but if I don't think the strength I have is enough to save myself how on earth--”
There are two small, slightly chapped flames pressed against his mouth. It takes Kurama's brain an embarrassingly long time to register that Hiei is kissing him. Hiei. Kissing him. His lips part on a gasp and Hiei takes that as permission to deepen the kiss. He licks into Kurama's mouth and Kurama moans-- again, embarrassing, because his mother is right down the hall and he'll die if she hears him. Hiei seems to like that reaction, because his grip tightens on Kurama's hands. Kurama pulls away just enough that he can bite hard on Hiei's bottom lip. Hiei makes a breathy noise as something hot and metallic splashes into Kurama's mouth and the sound and the taste make Kurama's mind spin. He arches up, wanting to get closer, at the same time Hiei rocks back, grinding down on Kurama's--
“Wait-- s-stop,” Kurama pants, pulling his mouth away from Hiei's completely. Hiei listens immediately. He's still hovering over Kurama, but he's dutifully making sure as little of him is touching the fox as possible. Kurama takes a moment to breathe-- a long moment. His self-control is as fragile as gossamer right now, and if he speaks or moves too soon who knows what he might do. Hiei waits above him, eyes darkened with concern and a certain something else that makes Kurama want to say screw self-control and flip them over so Hiei's under him, so Kurama is the one pinning Hiei's arms down and pressing in to him and sinking his teeth into the stretch of skin right at the base of his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see Hiei's face anymore.
“Fox,” Hiei says. He finally lets go of Kurama's hands so he can instead hold him by his shoulders. “Look at me.”
Absolutely not, Kurama thinks, and just to make sure he can't, he covers his face with his free hands.
Hiei makes a frustrated noise and Kurama feels him shift. Is he going to leave? Maybe he thinks that's what Kurama wants now, space to analyze what just happened between them. He probably will do that-- later though. Maybe after the tournament, when he can give the last few minutes his undivided attention. Not tonight, though. Tonight, he doesn't want to be alone.
“T-that wasn't actually what I had in mind for tonight,” he stammers, and dammit, when did he become so pathetic? Youko Kurama would never lie here with his cheeks hot and his face covered like some silly embarrassed teenager. He never would have even considered asking Hiei to stop. Even if it wasn't what he'd had in mind, he would have just happily gone along with it, intentions be damned. How is it possible to change so much in such a short period of time? What does it say about who he is now, that he can react so differently to something deep down he knows he actually wants.
“What did you have in mind, then?” Hiei asks, squeezing his shoulders. It's a nudge to speak up as much as it is a gentle reassurance that everything's okay, and Hiei's not going anywhere.
Kurama finally lets his hands fall away from his face so he can look up at Hiei. “I wanted to sleep together.”
Hiei raises an eyebrow at him.
“Not-- not like that!” It's too hot in here, underneath his blankets and Hiei. He can't think straight. “I mean, I wanted you to sleep next to me. I just wanted you near, that's all. I wasn't actually trying to get you to kiss me.”
“You did kiss me first, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” Kurama sighs. “I hadn't planned on doing that. All I was hoping for was your company tonight. I had no other expectations, really.”
Hiei seems to consider this. Kurama hopes he hasn't offended him. It's not that he doesn't want to be with Hiei in that way-- he very, very much does. He's known that for a while now. He just doesn't want the reason they cross that line to be this. Danger and the extremely likely possibility of their deaths shouldn't be what permanently changes the nature of their relationship. Kurama wants that to happen naturally. He wants to know everything there is to know about his partner-- what excites him, what terrifies him, what makes him angry, sad, aroused. He wants to become so close to Hiei that when it does happen, it's as easy as breathing. They're almost there. Kurama can feel it in the way his skin burns with even just the merest brush of Hiei's touch, and the way Hiei leans towards him whenever he needs reassurance or a moment of peace. He refuses to let their enemies force their hands, to taint something that should be wonderful and exciting with desperation and fear. What was Hiei saying earlier? To stop treating tonight like it was his last night alive. Well, if he's going to believe that they're both going to make it through this, then he has to believe they have time for everything else. He'll get to be with Hiei in that way later. He has the rest of their very long lives to know what that's like.
Hiei moves, and for one horrible second Kurama thinks he's decided to leave, or spend the night under the window-- but then Hiei simply falls to his side next to Kurama on the bed, letting out a tired puff of air as his head hits the pillow. He hasn't bothered to put any more space between himself and Kurama, so one arm is still stretched across the fox's chest and the leg he'd thrown over his hips has slid to rest in the space between Kurama's thighs. Kurama wishes he wasn't under his blanket, so he could better feel the heat from Hiei's leg soaking through his pajama pants. Or maybe he just wants to reach over and run his fingers along the stretch of exposed skin right above the waistband of Hiei's sleep shorts, where his borrowed t-shirt has ridden up in his fall.
“I never would have guessed you'd turn down sex,” Hiei says with a yawn. Kurama turns his head to look at him, and when Hiei meets his gaze, the fire demon's eyes are heavy with sleep. Apparently, their short conversation has worn him out.
“My mother's home,” Kurama answers, jokingly. If he really wanted to, it wouldn't matter if Shiori was in the house or not. He'd find a way to make it happen.
Hiei stares at him, like he's actually mulling over the fox's words. “Ah,” he says, as if he finally understands. “And you're too loud.”
What... “E-excuse me?” he says. He's not... where did that come from?
“I've dropped by before to talk to you about something but you were masturbating. I could hear you all the way out in your backyard. I'm honestly surprised the whole damn street couldn't hear you.”
“What?” Mortified. He's absolutely mortified. Screw dying in the tournament, he wishes the earth would open up right now and swallow him whole. “Hiei!”
The little bastard has the gall to laugh at Kurama. He grins at him, pleased to see how much he's embarrassed the fox. Kurama turns and shoves, pushing Hiei off him and the bed-- and the undignified squawk Hiei lets out would be hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that he also hits his head on Kurama's bedside table as he falls, the force rocking the table and knocking the lamp there over with a crash. Kurama leans over the edge of the bed to see if he's accidentally hurt the fire demon. Hiei stares up at him, dumbfounded.
“Shuuichi?” he hears his mother say from the other side of his bedroom door. Kurama freezes. “Everything okay? I thought I heard a noise.”
“E-everything's fine!” he calls out to her. “Sorry, I, uh... knocked over the lamp.”
There's a pause, and Kurama prays desperately that that means she's gone back to her own room, but then he hears her say, “how on earth did you do that?”
He wracks his brain for a suitable excuse. It's hard to think though, because he's too distracted by Hiei. The little demon's hands are now covering his mouth, and Kurama can see he's fighting the urge to laugh out loud at him again. Asshole, Kurama thinks.
“I was trying to put my book away,” Kurama finally says, lamely.
Another pause. Kurama stares at the door, hopeful. He thinks he hears a sigh. “I've told you, sweetheart, you shouldn't be reading so late at night. You'll strain your eyes. Go to bed, now, please. You're leaving on that school trip tomorrow, right? You need your rest.”
“You're right. Good night, Mother,” he calls. This time, he can hear her shuffling footsteps as she makes her way back down the hall.
Kurama looks back down at Hiei. He's moved his hands away from his mouth, so the fox can see the smirk stretched across his face.
“Told you you were loud,” Hiei says.
Kurama throws a pillow at him.
**
The hotel room is a little too nice, a little too clean, for what's about to take place over the next few days. Kurama sets his bag down onto the bed so he can dig through it. Starched white sheets and an overly plush mattress. He wonders how the humans down in the lobby could demand such luxury from the tournament committee, when tomorrow morning they'll be watching nothing but blood and injury and death, all in the hopes of winning some sick bet. He hears the sound of Hiei kicking off his boots behind him. He turns and watches as the fire demon pulls off the clothes Kurama had bought for him, until he's left only in his pants and socks. Kurama packed the over-sized t-shirt and shorts Hiei normally borrows when he stays at Kurama's house, but Hiei had said he didn't want them. Kurama knows this is because Hiei doesn't plan on sleeping very deeply tonight-- if someone comes after them while they're asleep, it'll be much easier to fight them off in his own clothes, than the borrowed pajamas that hang off his much smaller frame.
Kurama's not too worried about that-- not being attacked. That's likely to happen (again), but his ability to fight in his pajamas-- so he grabs them from the bag along with the little pouch that has his toothbrush and toothpaste in it and heads towards the bathroom. He gets ready for bed quickly, his anxiety about tomorrow making him feel heavy with exhaustion. When he leaves the bathroom, he sees Hiei sitting cross-legged on top of the blankets of his own bed, checking over his sword. The bed is big enough for three-- probably even four-- people, so Hiei looks tiny in comparison to that enormous expanse of white. Kurama watches him chew on his bottom lip as he runs a finger along the tip of his blade. There's a bruise there from where Kurama had bit him last night. Kurama wants to take that lip in his teeth again. He wants to dig his way into Hiei's skin and rest there, forever.
“Hiei,” he prompts.
“If you say one word about how they attacked us on the boat, I swear I'll rip your fucking tongue out,” he growls, raising his gaze to meet Kurama's so he can scowl at him.
Kurama bursts out laughing. He wasn't going to say anything about that, but now that's all he wants to do. But, he figures it might be inconvenient to fight in this tournament without his tongue, so he doesn't. Instead, he tackles Hiei, pushing him down into the mattress. Hiei lets his sword go, so it and them don't get hurt in the ensuing scuffle. Kurama wraps one arm around the fire demon's middle, and then digs the fingers of his other hand into Hiei's bony hip. He buries his face into his partners neck and breathes deep. Hiei shoves one leg in between Kurama's knees and tangles his hands in the fox's hair, yanking hard until Kurama feels a sharp pain thumping all along his scalp.
“Sleep next to me tonight,” Kurama murmurs against the skin of Hiei's throat.
Hiei pulls on his hair again, but does give a quiet “okay” after only a few moments.
They stay twisted together like that for a long time, until the clock sitting on the table between their beds reads after midnight and the only thing keeping Kurama awake is the occasional thump of Hiei's heartbeat. Hiei's grip on his hair at some point turned from painful to an absentminded, gentle scratching. The feeling pulls Kurama even further under, until it feels like someone has tied weights to his eyelids.
“I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.”
He thinks Hiei says that. Maybe. It might just be something from his dreams. Either way, he believes it.