Chapter Text
In the dark entryway of the apartment, a framed picture sits on the side table between two key-filled dishes. It’s of Kurama and a beautiful dark-haired young woman with a diamond ring on her left ring finger. They stand next to one another, appearing to be a fairly happy and perfect couple. Anyone would agree that these two are a handsome pair.
Not too far from it, there are more pictures that adorn the shelf on the wall.
The first one hit with the glow of the living room television is of Shiori’s wedding party.
“Fuck…”
Kuwabara was a little too forgetful in remembering to shout “Got it!” when the volleyball seemingly heads closer to his designated area. Kurama -also seemingly- decides to overcompensate and yells his claim. And he doesn't see Kuwabara -and vice versa.
They both grunt on impact, and as they tumble into the sand-the wind being knocked out of Kuwabara when Kurama lands on top of him.
It takes several moments for the pain to clear and Kuwabara to notice something…different. It finally registers in his mind…and his groin: a body pressed to his.
“Are you alright, Kuwabara?” Kurama straddles him but quickly moves off him, too fast for his liking, “Kuwabara?”
“eah” he coughs to try to clear his weezy, scratchy throat and the awkwardness “Yeah,... I'm alright”. But he lays there, not moving, doing his best not to think about the warmth and weight he'd never known.
The second is also of years past. A moment to remember as the beginning of their new lives after years-long struggles and death-defying conflicts. And Hiei still found reason to not smile.
“D-damn… shit…”
Kuwabara had purposefully chosen to use the bath last. He insisted on it.
Kurama usually goes last, but this time he'd be second-to-last. Which is exactly what he wanted.
Back in their shared room in the compound, Kuwabara knows his wife is getting ready for bed as he pumps his cock furiously in the water.
He remembers the feeling of him atop him earlier that afternoon: firm and soft with thighs on either side of his hips. He groans imagining Kurama bouncing up and down on his dick.
Feeling his release fast approaching, he gets to his knees and angles his hips into the water. He imagines the warm wetness to be his friend’s as he comes harder than he's had in a long time. He moans his name, too.
Panting and heaving, through tired eyes he watches the swirl of white mingle and disappear in murky water and feels a sense of guilt and shame.
Most of it being from the disappointment of not being able to fill his friend’s insides instead…
He leans his forehead on the edge of the tub and sighs.
Completely bathed in the brightness of the tv screen, is a candid photo of Kuwabara and his best man celebrating upcoming nuptials from earlier that year. The red head put much thought and consideration into planning like Kuwabara knew he would, and thusly declared it to be the best bachelor party ever.
“Ng-ng… Kuwa-bara”
Kuwabara doesn't know how he'd be able to look his friend in the eye now. Also his wife. He simultaneously forgets and always remembers he has one.
When he opens the door after drying himself and emptying the tub, he runs into the last person he wanted to see.
“Oh! Kuwabara! I was just here to clean the tub” Kurama smiles at him, holding up a bucket filled with products.
Guilt churns in his gut and nauseates him that his face only turns sour, prompting Kurama to ask “Are you alright? I didn't really injure you, did I-”
He plasters on a fake smile “No! I'm okay! Thanks!” and snatches the bucket “I was last- I'll clean it!” then promptly slams the door closed.
On the other side of the door, a very confused Kurama responds slowly “Okay… I'll leave you to it.”
Just when Kuwabara thinks that's that, Kurama adds “Thanks Kuwabara” which makes the nauseated mixture of guilt and shame churn once again two-fold.
The television becomes muted over sounds of a creaking bed in sync with slapping skin and moans that come from the first bedroom and can be heard through the apartment.
“You’re so… fucking tight”
Kuwabara knows he shouldn't have accepted the invite to hang out. At least not so soon after the gathering at the beach last month.
He's not ready.
He knows he's not.
He's been masterbating to thoughts of his friend every single day since. Sometimes twice a day.
He'd even masterbated five minutes after he got the text-thinking of a sexual fantasy that would never play out-not even in his wildest dreams.
No, he's not ready because when Kurama opens the door he can't constrain himself as he eye-fucks him.
Kurama has worn that same outfit multiple times in his presence, so he knows he's being absurd when he thinks for even a second Kurama dressed up for him.
No, Kurama just looks that good.
He's always looked that good.
And he's a fool for not having seen it until now.
When it's too late for them.
If there ever was a time for “them” anyway.
“Hi Kuwabara”
No, he's a fool twice-over for thinking he'd stand a chance.
Completely drenched in sweat and unwilling to let the moment be over too soon, Kuwabara steels his gut and pushes Kurama’s thighs further apart as he fucks into him faster and harder, rubbing his clit furiously.
“Kuwa-! Kuwa-! Wah-bara! Ah!”
Kuwabara had been drinking one too many of the beers he'd brought. He couldn't help himself- he drinks excessively when he's nervous.
He stares at his wedding ring, as he also can't help asking much-too-sensitive questions that he doesn't really want the answers to.
He's bitter with no right to be.
“Does she know that you’re… you know?”
“No…”
He's not that surprised but it does make his eyebrow raise.
“Does she know that you’re not into women?”
“No. She does not” Kurama takes a small sip of his water. He'd called it quits some time ago.
“What? Have you told her anything!? So she just… accepted that you didn’t want to sleep with her with no explanation? And she still wanted to marry you?” What Kuwabara really wants to ask is ‘Why are you marrying her?’
Kurama shrugs “Looks that way”
“Damn… so all she can do is look at ya?” Kuwabara picks up a lock of Kurama’s hair and twirls it between his fingertips “Hmm…If she agreed to it… then I guess that’s not a bad deal. Though I’d never agree to that”
Kurama softly snorts and rolls his eyes “Do tell”
Feeling emboldened by the intoxicating sluggishness, he gives a light tug of Kurama’s hair “No…I’d have to fuck you”
“Hang on” Kuwabara pulls out and easily flips Kurama onto his stomach and pulls his hips up. There is a moment of clumsy fumbling before he finds the right hole again and eases himself back in again, causing them both to moan.
Kurama cants his hips back, silently begging Kuwabara to continue.
Kurama had always prided himself on having impeccable courtesies. In his many years, he's found, however, that there are always limits. And he is always tested whenever faced with his friends' bare physique.
It takes him a moment too long to politely avert his eyes when Kuwabara takes off his shirt.
He understands that it's natural to be drawn to look, but it isn't respectful of Kuwabara who is his friend and someone he… deeply cares for.
He even, to his shame, stayed too long atop him when they'd crashed into one another.
He should be better than this, and shouldn't allow his hormones to sully his interactions with his greatest friend.
When Kuwabara offers to bathe last, to his own horror, for the briefest of seconds, Kurama thinks of pleasuring himself.
And as he sits stiffly in the tub, he spends the entire time chastising himself and unwilling to go anywhere near his groin for longer than five seconds.
He cannot be trusted.
“Kuwa-bara-” panting, Kurama grips the sheets and braces himself-angles his hips to be more accomodating for the other's greater height “Please- please keep going… I- I need you to-...”
He doesn't know what he'd been thinking when he sent the text.
He'd told himself that it was to prove to himself that Kuwabara doesn't affect him.
That his attraction to him doesn't affect him and he can be normal in his presence.
But he knows deep down it's for another reason.
He just wants to see him…
Maybe even-No. He's being an idiot.
Now Kuwabara’s here and reminding him of his own upcoming nuptials-reminding him that he's marrying someone he doesn't know or love.
Kuwabara moans, feeling Kurama’s walls tighten around him, and pulls part-way out then snaps his hips back into him then picks up the pace until Kurama is shouting his name.
Shocked silent by the vulgar admission, Kurama doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but his body reacts positively to it.
Kuwabara seems so flippant as he’s still focused on playing with his hair as he continues “I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I had you. I’d bend you over the couch and fuck you into the arm until you couldn’t walk straight”
Even though he’d stopped drinking several rounds ago, Kurama’s gulping. His mouth feels even dryer than before. He can see the picture Kuwabara is painting. There’s also a quiver scalding up and down his core -heating him. And he does his best to ignore it and seem unaffected by the other’s words and nonchalant attitude.
“Oh?” he licks his lips “Big words from someone who’s never had sex”
Kuwabara finally lets his hair go-letting Kurama breathe a little easier too, laughing “Haha! A big dick calls for big words” he smiles cockily at him.
Kurama tries not to give Kuwabara what he wants and he’ll blame it on the alcohol because he still ends up glancing into his lap and imagining what lay beneath. He wonders if he’d gotten bigger since he was fourteen- he looks up and sees Kuwabara smirking at him and he looks away embarrassed at being caught.
Kurama is delirious and overwhelmed by pleasure that he doesn't think to try to mute his loud cries of “Kuwah-! Kuwa-! Ah!!”
“That’s right, baby” Voice husky, Kuwabara continues to piston his hips into his tight wetness, “I’m the one fucking you this hard, aren’t I?”
Kuwabara leans in teasing him, “Wanna see? You show me mine, and I’ll show you yours” he wiggles his eyebrows making Kurama chuckle at him.
“That’s not how that saying goes” he lightly shoves Kuwabara but finds him immovable and gives up. He barely tried really.
“Doesn’t matter” Kuwabara shrugs, taking his hand and getting ever closer “You didn’t say ‘No’.”
Kurama swallows to get a moment of reprieve, looking at his held hand “Quite bold of you to assume I want to have sex with you”
Kurama can't take this aggressive flirting seriously. As attractive as it is, there is no way Kuwabara is serious about wanting him.
It's most likely pent up sexual energy.
“Well, you’re not exactly denying it, are you?” he smirks at him “And I think you’re turned on by it”
“Oh? I am, am I?”
“Yeah” He crowds over him but Kurama doesn’t move; just waits to see what he’ll do. Surely Kuwabara has a limit to how far pretending to be gay he's willing to go.
Yet… deep down, Kurama is hopelessly desperate for him to finish melting this lake of ice he's been trapped beneath for all of these years. He wants him to go that far…
The blood in his veins are already turning to molten lava-
Kuwabara places a hand on his thigh and Kurama’s breath stutters-catches and hooks onto the other's thumb that rubs him through his jeans.
Afraid, he doesn't breathe, and he doesn’t stop him as he trails his palm up his inner thigh. “I do”
“No one…” on the verge of climaxing, Kuwabara pants harder “No one will be able to- Ah-fuck you like this. Isn't- Ah- isn't that right?”
‘Yes’ Kurama thinks
As Kuwabara slips further and further into the throes of sleep, he thinks he hears Kurama saying something- he just can't understand a word of it.
He can't find the energy to tell him he can't hear him or even to stay awake.
His last thoughts before he slips away is “Sorry babe”
Even though he'd been warm, he dreams of being cold.