Kitsunetsuki : Two
Title: Kitsunetsuki
Warnings: Gore and a little but of smutt this chapter.
Rating: R
Pairing: Youko/Kurama/Kuronue
Summary: Inari is less than pleased that Kurama has chosen to be a mere human. Thus, by the deities will, he is reminded of who he had been once before.
Notes: GETTING THIS OUT WAS HELL. Just thought I'd let you know. And FUCK YOU HTML!
-
Thy name is Desire.
-
Shintosato, Kuronue had pleasantly informed Kurama earlier, was just over the hill a little and then some. Kurama could see the black smoke and smell the odd stench of burning flesh from here. One of the reasons Shintosato was so easy to find was because the human slave traders made a point of having the whole place smell like burning human flesh in order to draw in customers. It could be smelt for miles around.
Kurama very much did not want to go there.
Still, it was a rather large hill and the distance was quite far by human standards.
The air was thick with the electric storm overhead, and the heat didn’t help much either. Kurama could feel his hair sticking to his neck and shoulders, his forehead. He would have killed for something to pull his hair up off his neck and shoulders.
Youko paused ahead of them. His ears twitched in different directions for a moment. He scanned the forest with narrowed eyes. “Shit...”
“What’s up?” Kuronue asked, stopping beside him. Kurama took the moment to catch his breath and cast his eyes over their surroundings too. Something was shifting in the dead grass, crawling forward slowly. Only it wasn’t one something, it was a lot of somethings.
“We’re surrounded,” Youko said, very quietly. He tilted his head back a little and sniffed at the air daintily, then lowered his head. His eyes flicked to Kurama for the barest of moments. Kurama could see the annoyance in his expression.
“Hmm...” Kuronue mused, then turned to face Kurama and placed a hand either side of his head. Kurama barely had time for his eyes to fly wide and his heart to slam hard against his chest before Youko had pushed Kuronue away and was snarling in a decidedly inhuman way.
“Don’t kill him, he’s expensive,” he admonished, his ears flicking back. He snarled. It was a clear instinctive warning from his fox nature rather than his higher intelligence. Something was really off then.
Kuronue scowled, his wings lifting and flicking out a bit. “He’ll slow us down, Kurama.”
“We’ll just kill them.”
“Yes, and he might attack you from behind while I’m up there. Your attention cannot be divided all the time,” Kuronue growled, taking a step towards Kurama.
“You will not cheat me out of a good bed tonight after three weeks of sleeping on rocks and in the rain,” Youko said, stopping Kuronue with a hand on his chest and a cold glare. Kuronue glared right back at him.
An attack call sounded, and then replying cries all around them. How many were there? Kurama couldn’t tell, and neither could his past self or Kuronue. It was thunderous, voices rising from all around them as the crunch of vegetation underfoot ripped right through Kurama’s skull.
His heart was still. He could feel the very tinge of excitement uncoiling inside him. Oh, since the end of Yusuke’s first demon tournament Kurama hadn’t had a good fight in years. Now was his chance.
Kuronue took to the air suddenly, shooting up above them and hovering for a moment before diving down into the dense forest to their left. Youko had small blades of grass in hand, thin as needles, and Kurama moved to stand with his back to Youko’s, twisting his wrists against each other in an effort to free himself. He expended a little energy, just a little, to free himself. Annoyingly it was enough to catch Youko’s attention before he went back to concentrating on driving vines through the ground in every direction, sourcing just how many enemies there were. Carefully, Kurama bent and placed a hand to the Earth to spy on the vines report of how many there were.
Thousands.
A whole horde, intent on taking out the largest threat. They weren’t all high class demons, but the sheer number of them was staggering.
Kurama stood and looked over his shoulder at Youko as the rope that had previously bound his arms fell to his feet. “Give me a weapon.”
“No,” Youko snapped. “I cannot trust you with-”
“Give me something!” Kurama interrupted, knowing what it was like arguing with his Youko nature. This was the very same thing, only in a much more literal context. Kurama put it out of his mind as the first of the demons barged out from their hiding places. Followed by more, and more. A steady flow of low class demons, en masse, pooling their youki and intent into a single coordinated attack.
The vines that had been under the approaching enemies feet suddenly spiked out of the earth impaling as many as it could, but inevitably missing quite a few. Still they came.
Kurama growled, plucked a blade of grass from beneath him, and rushed at the closest enemy. Will - no, need - to fight overpowering patience with blind rage and bloodlust. Behind him Youko cursed as he was swallowed in a mass of bodies and screams. Most of them fell to his makeshift blades.
Kurama was too deep in his own mind, calculating distance with fine precision and deadly, sharp awareness taking up all of his attention for the time being. He lunged and drove his fist into the closest demon, sinking the suddenly long and sharp blade of grass into the demons throat. He kicked off him before the horned creature managed to tumble over, and into the arms of another, slashing at it and twisting away from out-reaching hands.
He held his own, though not as much as Kuronue and Youko. The sudden lines of demons dropping dead through the mass of writhing bodies took him by surprise. Over head, Kuronue sailed through the air and opened his wings wide, throwing down his scythes and cutting clean paths of utter destruction through the demon hordes. There, limbs flew and the stench of blood and other fluids rose in a foul stench that saturated the air. Kurama almost choked on it, the pure smell of Makai; the acrid scent of demon blood and bile covered insides.
Kurama blocked and kicked and stabbed and slashed as best he could with his feeble weapon. He didn’t have the full extent of his youki, only what he would have gained if he really were a human. Still it was enough to manipulate the plants; who confused themselves over which Kurama was their beloved master.
Still, in their pain of being trampled on, they leapt happily into the first hand that called to them. The swaying branches of the trees around them was like a chorus of a thousand screaming voices, urging vengeance and destruction.
Kurama obeyed.
In the end, as his human body tired, slowly but surely, he began to take desperate measures that used less force to eliminate as many as he could.
It was because of this that he didn’t see the sudden youki blast that knocked Kuronue out of the sky, but he felt it, oh he felt it. Felt him falling into the waiting arms of demons that would rip him to shreds no sooner than he’d fallen into their clawed hands.
Screaming his rage, memories of loss and long nights of pity and self-hate boiling from deep inside, Kurama made his way to Kuronue, aiming to get there before he finally hit the ground. The demons were pooling beneath him, waiting, waiting -- but then Youko’s rose whip sliced through them all and they were falling too.
There was a small clearing covered in the bodies of the dead, and Kurama climbed over them to get closer to Youko, ignoring the large teeth gnashing at his heels and the inhuman gurgles and other demonic tongues swearing at him. Dripping in blood and fetid Earth he finally made it to Youko’s side, but by then Kuronue had already hit the ground. He felt the impact through his feet, felt the Earth shudder and scream at the crater he left from the impact.
A moment of silent communication shared in a single glance between Youko and Kurama passed. Youko raised a hand and unleashed his unholy rage on all those around him, the thick humid air crackling with his manic black youki, his scream of fury drowned out with howls of terror and pain. Kurama skidded down into the crater, ignoring the way his bare feet protested the treatment.
Kuronue was alive, breathing, but broken. He was snarling, and sitting up by the time Kurama got to him. There was a large hole on his left side, and he wheezed as he breathed, blood pouring from his mouth in a constant thick stream. “Fuck,” he said, looking a little stunned and furious all at once.
“Are you-”
“I’m fine, little human.”
He wasn’t.
Kurama moved a little closer and ducked under Kuronue’s arm on his unharmed side. He helped Kuronue rise, who made a slight gurgling sound and then threw up blood and chunks of what looked like lung and stomach insides.
“Kurama!” he screamed, feeling weird calling his own name in conjunction with another person. Immediately a plant sprang to mind, but he hadn’t the energy or time to treat Kuronue. He needed Youko, needed the strength of his old self to stop his old friend from dying again just as he’d had the chance to be with him once again, if only for a few days. He couldn't die like this. Not again.
Youko jumped into the crater with them, Rosewhip and a stolen katana in hand.
“Change of plans...” Kuronue rasped and coughed, spiting blood out away from his and Kurama’s feet.
Youko took one look at Kuronue, passed his eyes over Kurama, and then turned and raised the katana above his head, blade pointing down at his feet. He plunged it down into the earth, twisted, repeated the action with a snarl.
The ground gave way below them, and suddenly they were falling. Large flowers above them were flowering, writhing and curling. They were feasting, satiating their thirst and hunger on everything and anything in sight. Purple petals flowered with hunger and their masters rage.
Through the caverns caused by the enormous flowers roots, Youko lead them away from the battlefield, and the horrid sounds of crunching, squelching and agonised wails.
“The sneaky shits must have been planning that for days, how the hell did they find our location?” Kuronue seemed intent on talking, even though whenever he did a little more blood leapt out of his side and made his muscles jerk in pain. His voice was hoarse with the blood still creeping up his throat.
“Don’t talk,” Kurama urged, wrapping an arm around Kuronue’s waist to help him stand. He placed his hand over the wound to slow the bleeding, if only a little, while he was at it. Still it leaked from between his fingers and left a dark trail after them, seeping into the soil.
Kurama couldn’t remember where exactly Youko was taking them, it had been so long since he’d travelled underground with nothing but a keen sense of smell and an excellent memory to point him in the right direction. They would, he assumed, head for the closest of their temporary safe houses where they kept plenty of medical supplies and other necessities. Usually they were well hidden and deep underground, or inaccessible unless one had wings or certain powers.
“Fuck your ‘not talking’, it keeps me calm,” Kuronue grumbled. "And I want to stay calm because I have a fucking hole in my lung."
Slowly but surely, Youko ushered them into what seemed to be an underground cave. The soil here turned hard and brittle beneath Kurama’s feet as he walked further within, and suddenly Kurama knew where they were. It was indeed a safe house, only this was the one they tended to use more often or not. Youko, unsure of just how damaged Kuronue was, had probably taken them to the one with the most medical supplies in close proximity.
No sooner than Kurama had passed the threshold of newly borrowed tunnel and into the old, dry cave,had Youko turned and taken Kuronue from him with a sharp glare. “Do not leave this area, or you will regret it, human.”
Kurama was sure, had he really been human enough to not notice the ungodly amount of traps, he would have regretted it indeed. As it was he merely nodded, then looked back to Kuronue. He was pale and breathing heavily, shivering violently. His lips had taken on an odd shade of purple as his eyes rolled back in his head. He took a step toward them, ignoring Youko's glare.
"I want to help," Kurama reasoned, frustrated with his old-self's untrust. "I know my plants, let me help."
Youko looked back to Kuronue, who was looking paler by the minute. Despite this, the winged demon still managed to roll his eyes and let out what might have been a sigh had it not been so wet and crackly. "For fucks sake, Youko. Someone will have to hold me down, he can do it."
There was a long moment of silence, and then Youko turned his eyes back to Kurama. "If he dies, you die," he said, and then started walking down one of the cavern's smaller halls. Kurama followed him wordlessly, avoiding walking over the blood that trailed after Youko and Kuronue.
-
Later, after Kurama had held down Kuronue as best he could, and soothed him while Kurama's plants stretched and cleaned and sewed Kuronue's insides back up, while he screamed and screamed, he sat by Kuronue's side as Youko wrapped thick gauze and bandages around him. Kuronue -- alive and well though exhausted and his voice hoarse from screaming -- was gracious enough to fidget restlessly while Youko told him to drink this, hold that, sit still, stop whining.
"You have some pretty impressive skills for a human," Youko murmured, looking at Kurama over Kuronue's shoulder.
Kuronue perked up a little and looked at Kurama with open curiosity.
"You need to re-evaluate your impression of humans," Kurama said, not so much as throwing caution to the wind as much as taking a gigantic risk, as he was wont to do. Damn it all, he had to figure out what Inari had in mind and he wasn't going to get anywhere if he kept hesitating. "Demons and Humans are not so different, really. The line between the two will fade over time."
"What?" Kuronue blinked, then wheezed and glared over his shoulder at Youko, who was applying something to Kuronue's wounds. He had scratch-marks and gouges from where the blast had circled around him a few times before sending him sailing to the ground.
"Under Enki's rule the kekkai barrier was destroyed. Yet the humans thrive as they have done for centuries, and the demons have gained a better grasp of...civility." Kurama didn't know why he was letting it all roll off his tongue, it just felt like the right thing to say.
Kneeling just a little before Kuronue, who was perched on a pile of soft mattresses and rugs, Youko behind him, Kurama continued grinding some herbs from this and that, until it turned into a white paste. It smelt hideous and burnt his eyes, but he kept his head down, his hair covering his face for him. He looked up at them to see their reactions. Honestly curious.
There was none, for the most part. Kuronue raised an eyebrow and chuckled quietly to himself, coughing a little when the remnants of blood in his lungs made itself known with a loud rattle. He looked vaguely annoyed for a moment.
Youko pointed with a clawed finger to the bowl of herbal salve and Kurama handed it to him. Youko snatched up his hand and turned it palm up, then placed a dollop on it. "Rub it over his ribs."
Kurama turned his eyes to Kuronue, who smiled at him, his eyes twinkling behind what little hair fell in his eyes. "He just wants you to caress me," he crooned, reaching out to touch Kurama's cheek.
There was a loud slap. Youko rolled his eyes as Kuronue groaned and winced, cradling the hand that had been at Kurama's cheek. "Ow, easy foxy. Kind of almost just died, remember?"
Kurama lowered his head to hide his smile and set to his task. Kuronue's wound didn't just end at his lung and side, whatever had hit him seemed to be spreading outward, infecting his skin and turning it a dark colour. Still, Kuronue said it didn't hurt much and Youko didn't seem worried, so Kurama believed them for the moment. He could not remember any of this happening in his past life, nor had he ever seen an attack like this, so he let the worry pass him by.
He nudged Kuronue's arm away from his side, wanting better access, and paused when Kuronue lay his arm on Kurama's shoulder. Cold leather and warm skin against his own was a feeling he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the salve and ran his hands over the skin above Kuronue's ribs. The muscles there were fascinating, always had been.
Kuronue's wings needed strong muscles to move them, and though sometimes there were shortcuts due to demon physiology, there hadn't been too much here. Kuronue's sides and back were well muscled and delicious to look at, to touch and massage. He felt his smile return.
Only Kuronue spread his legs wide under the pretence of allowing him better access, but abused their closeness by leaning forward just that little bit to ghost his lips along Kurama’s jaw and down his neck slowly.
Kurama swallowed thickly and continued his task, being sure to rub the salve in well. He kept his eyes down, focused on Kuronue’s bruised shoulder and Youko’s pale bloodstained chest.
“Kuhaaa...” He had been about to say ‘Kuronue’ in warning, but stilled and tried to ignore the sudden violent shock of arousal that speared right through him, running a course from Kuronue lips and tongue at his neck down to his barely concealed cock.
He didn’t have the strength to push himself away, even though he knew he should; especially after Youko had showed his displeasure for Kuronue flirting with him earlier. His heart ached for things long since forgotten and lost. He wanted Kuronue.
He swallowed thickly his hands pausing on Kuronue’s hips.
He could hear him grumble deep in his chest, then his lips pulled away from his neck. Kurama blinked and pulled back a bit.
Youko’s hand was fisted in Kuronue’s hair, pulling his head back until his throat was bared. He was whispering something into Kuronue’s ear, something even Kurama couldn’t hear, nor lip-read. Golden eyes flicked up to Kurama, and then violet soon after. And that was strange because he could have sworn he knew how to in the past.
Kuronue grunted and nodded then winced as Youko’s hands tightened in his hair. “Youko,” he began to say, almost as if he was complaining.
“Later,” Youko snapped.
Kuronue seemed to deflate. “Fine.”
Kurama watched curiously, leaning back on his heels once again as Youko released Kuronue and then rose, taking most of his materials with him and returning them to the shelf off to the side. His tail swished agitatedly, back and forth at random before finally curling around his leg.
Kurama turned back to Kuronue and had been about to ask what was going on, but Kuronue gave him a look (one that would make any demon take a vow of silence) and leaned forward a little as if to make himself more comfortable. Kurama was still between the bats legs, a little lower than Kuronue himself. Neither of the demons made any move to pull him away.
Kurama tilted his head curiously.
Youko looked over his shoulder at them, and then narrowed his eyes at Kuronue who only grinned up at him innocently. Youko clicked his tongue and wandered from the room, leaving the door open. “Behave yourself,” he said, his voice travelling from the hall. He’d taken one of the more viscous and dangerous buds of a flower with him, for safe storage no doubt.
Kuronue winked at Kurama. “Now’s our chance, but you have to be quiet. ”
He blinked. “Chance for what?” He couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to put it.
“This,” Kuronue said as he leant forward, reaching for Kurama.
Kurama’s human body was reasonably small compared to Kuronue’s. A seven foot demon equalled large hands, and other parts of the anatomy too. Those large hands hooked under his arms and lifted him up like a ragdoll until he was straddling Kuronue’s hips, staring down at him with wide eyes.
The hunger returned again, the ache in his chest where his heart should have been. However he didn’t have much time to contemplate it. Kuronue was suddenly threading his fingers into his crimson hair and pulling him down against his chest so that he could reach his lips without craning his neck or moving his injured torso.
He was warm. Alive. Something Kurama never thought he'd feel again.
He’d forgotten how Kuronue tasted and the way he moved his lips against his own, how he nibbled and licked and made Kurama forget everything if he let him. That one single hungry kiss had Kurama clawing at the soft comforter Kuronue lay on, either side of his head as the demon’s hands wandered, chasing the little shivers that crawled down his spine and even lower places.
Kuronue hand slid up his leg, his fingertips sliding along the inside of his thigh before cupping his ass and squeezing, massaging him, urging his hips forward into Kuronue’s abdomen.
He moaned and rocked his hips forward, biting Kuronue’s lip lightly when he shifted and one of those hand jerked his flimsy single piece of clothing up and glided along his thigh before palming his cock. Kuronue stole his breath from him with another kiss, limiting his sounds to small muffled whimpers.
He arched his back, his knees digging into the lavish rugs either side of Kuronue for leverage as he rocked forward. His hands moved to Kuronue’s shoulders and then chest as he pulled his head back and worked his way down the demon’s neck, biting lightly over one of his old scars. Kuronue’s breath hitched, and Kurama smiled. Ah, he remembered this part now. Kuronue’s obsession with scars and violent sex.
Kuronue repaid him with a dirty trick, pulling him against his chest and pulling at his cock just a little harder, rippling his fingers and sliding his thumb over the head, smearing the precome that had gathered. Kurama could help but moan loudly, and whimper when teeth latched onto his earlobe and nibbled.
A cold unfamiliar hand closed over the nape of his neck and jerked him back, dragged him off Kuronue and dropped him to the floor a few feet away. Startled, Kurama rolled onto his stomach and stood quickly, but Youko had already turned his back on Kurama and was glaring down at him.
Kurama took the time to push down the swathe of leather at his hips down and will his erection away, as well as the flush of arousal on his cheeks. He could have used the time to attack, had he been human, Youko was forgetting things. It made Kurama's eyes soften, and the ill placed irritation disappear swiftly.
This was all about Kuronue's health.
“You’re still unwell.” Youko snarled.
Kuronue’s hands were covering his face, as if he wanted to claw his eyes out. He dragged them down his face and attempted a shrug before doing a horrible job at hiding a wince. He looked up at Youko with large, innocent eyes that looked oddly grey in the underground light. “Come on, Kurama, I’m fine.”
Youko only snorted and turned on his heel, then reached out and took Kurama’s forearm in hand, jerking him along with him as the fox stormed out of the room, slamming the sliding, organic door behind him. Kurama worried that his arm would be pulled for his socket for a moment, and scrambled to keep up with his past-selves long strides.
Kurama could hear Kuronue curse behind the door as Youko lead him away.
-
Next
Warnings: Gore and a little but of smutt this chapter.
Rating: R
Pairing: Youko/Kurama/Kuronue
Summary: Inari is less than pleased that Kurama has chosen to be a mere human. Thus, by the deities will, he is reminded of who he had been once before.
Notes: GETTING THIS OUT WAS HELL. Just thought I'd let you know. And FUCK YOU HTML!
-
Thy name is Desire.
-
Shintosato, Kuronue had pleasantly informed Kurama earlier, was just over the hill a little and then some. Kurama could see the black smoke and smell the odd stench of burning flesh from here. One of the reasons Shintosato was so easy to find was because the human slave traders made a point of having the whole place smell like burning human flesh in order to draw in customers. It could be smelt for miles around.
Kurama very much did not want to go there.
Still, it was a rather large hill and the distance was quite far by human standards.
The air was thick with the electric storm overhead, and the heat didn’t help much either. Kurama could feel his hair sticking to his neck and shoulders, his forehead. He would have killed for something to pull his hair up off his neck and shoulders.
Youko paused ahead of them. His ears twitched in different directions for a moment. He scanned the forest with narrowed eyes. “Shit...”
“What’s up?” Kuronue asked, stopping beside him. Kurama took the moment to catch his breath and cast his eyes over their surroundings too. Something was shifting in the dead grass, crawling forward slowly. Only it wasn’t one something, it was a lot of somethings.
“We’re surrounded,” Youko said, very quietly. He tilted his head back a little and sniffed at the air daintily, then lowered his head. His eyes flicked to Kurama for the barest of moments. Kurama could see the annoyance in his expression.
“Hmm...” Kuronue mused, then turned to face Kurama and placed a hand either side of his head. Kurama barely had time for his eyes to fly wide and his heart to slam hard against his chest before Youko had pushed Kuronue away and was snarling in a decidedly inhuman way.
“Don’t kill him, he’s expensive,” he admonished, his ears flicking back. He snarled. It was a clear instinctive warning from his fox nature rather than his higher intelligence. Something was really off then.
Kuronue scowled, his wings lifting and flicking out a bit. “He’ll slow us down, Kurama.”
“We’ll just kill them.”
“Yes, and he might attack you from behind while I’m up there. Your attention cannot be divided all the time,” Kuronue growled, taking a step towards Kurama.
“You will not cheat me out of a good bed tonight after three weeks of sleeping on rocks and in the rain,” Youko said, stopping Kuronue with a hand on his chest and a cold glare. Kuronue glared right back at him.
An attack call sounded, and then replying cries all around them. How many were there? Kurama couldn’t tell, and neither could his past self or Kuronue. It was thunderous, voices rising from all around them as the crunch of vegetation underfoot ripped right through Kurama’s skull.
His heart was still. He could feel the very tinge of excitement uncoiling inside him. Oh, since the end of Yusuke’s first demon tournament Kurama hadn’t had a good fight in years. Now was his chance.
Kuronue took to the air suddenly, shooting up above them and hovering for a moment before diving down into the dense forest to their left. Youko had small blades of grass in hand, thin as needles, and Kurama moved to stand with his back to Youko’s, twisting his wrists against each other in an effort to free himself. He expended a little energy, just a little, to free himself. Annoyingly it was enough to catch Youko’s attention before he went back to concentrating on driving vines through the ground in every direction, sourcing just how many enemies there were. Carefully, Kurama bent and placed a hand to the Earth to spy on the vines report of how many there were.
Thousands.
A whole horde, intent on taking out the largest threat. They weren’t all high class demons, but the sheer number of them was staggering.
Kurama stood and looked over his shoulder at Youko as the rope that had previously bound his arms fell to his feet. “Give me a weapon.”
“No,” Youko snapped. “I cannot trust you with-”
“Give me something!” Kurama interrupted, knowing what it was like arguing with his Youko nature. This was the very same thing, only in a much more literal context. Kurama put it out of his mind as the first of the demons barged out from their hiding places. Followed by more, and more. A steady flow of low class demons, en masse, pooling their youki and intent into a single coordinated attack.
The vines that had been under the approaching enemies feet suddenly spiked out of the earth impaling as many as it could, but inevitably missing quite a few. Still they came.
Kurama growled, plucked a blade of grass from beneath him, and rushed at the closest enemy. Will - no, need - to fight overpowering patience with blind rage and bloodlust. Behind him Youko cursed as he was swallowed in a mass of bodies and screams. Most of them fell to his makeshift blades.
Kurama was too deep in his own mind, calculating distance with fine precision and deadly, sharp awareness taking up all of his attention for the time being. He lunged and drove his fist into the closest demon, sinking the suddenly long and sharp blade of grass into the demons throat. He kicked off him before the horned creature managed to tumble over, and into the arms of another, slashing at it and twisting away from out-reaching hands.
He held his own, though not as much as Kuronue and Youko. The sudden lines of demons dropping dead through the mass of writhing bodies took him by surprise. Over head, Kuronue sailed through the air and opened his wings wide, throwing down his scythes and cutting clean paths of utter destruction through the demon hordes. There, limbs flew and the stench of blood and other fluids rose in a foul stench that saturated the air. Kurama almost choked on it, the pure smell of Makai; the acrid scent of demon blood and bile covered insides.
Kurama blocked and kicked and stabbed and slashed as best he could with his feeble weapon. He didn’t have the full extent of his youki, only what he would have gained if he really were a human. Still it was enough to manipulate the plants; who confused themselves over which Kurama was their beloved master.
Still, in their pain of being trampled on, they leapt happily into the first hand that called to them. The swaying branches of the trees around them was like a chorus of a thousand screaming voices, urging vengeance and destruction.
Kurama obeyed.
In the end, as his human body tired, slowly but surely, he began to take desperate measures that used less force to eliminate as many as he could.
It was because of this that he didn’t see the sudden youki blast that knocked Kuronue out of the sky, but he felt it, oh he felt it. Felt him falling into the waiting arms of demons that would rip him to shreds no sooner than he’d fallen into their clawed hands.
Screaming his rage, memories of loss and long nights of pity and self-hate boiling from deep inside, Kurama made his way to Kuronue, aiming to get there before he finally hit the ground. The demons were pooling beneath him, waiting, waiting -- but then Youko’s rose whip sliced through them all and they were falling too.
There was a small clearing covered in the bodies of the dead, and Kurama climbed over them to get closer to Youko, ignoring the large teeth gnashing at his heels and the inhuman gurgles and other demonic tongues swearing at him. Dripping in blood and fetid Earth he finally made it to Youko’s side, but by then Kuronue had already hit the ground. He felt the impact through his feet, felt the Earth shudder and scream at the crater he left from the impact.
A moment of silent communication shared in a single glance between Youko and Kurama passed. Youko raised a hand and unleashed his unholy rage on all those around him, the thick humid air crackling with his manic black youki, his scream of fury drowned out with howls of terror and pain. Kurama skidded down into the crater, ignoring the way his bare feet protested the treatment.
Kuronue was alive, breathing, but broken. He was snarling, and sitting up by the time Kurama got to him. There was a large hole on his left side, and he wheezed as he breathed, blood pouring from his mouth in a constant thick stream. “Fuck,” he said, looking a little stunned and furious all at once.
“Are you-”
“I’m fine, little human.”
He wasn’t.
Kurama moved a little closer and ducked under Kuronue’s arm on his unharmed side. He helped Kuronue rise, who made a slight gurgling sound and then threw up blood and chunks of what looked like lung and stomach insides.
“Kurama!” he screamed, feeling weird calling his own name in conjunction with another person. Immediately a plant sprang to mind, but he hadn’t the energy or time to treat Kuronue. He needed Youko, needed the strength of his old self to stop his old friend from dying again just as he’d had the chance to be with him once again, if only for a few days. He couldn't die like this. Not again.
Youko jumped into the crater with them, Rosewhip and a stolen katana in hand.
“Change of plans...” Kuronue rasped and coughed, spiting blood out away from his and Kurama’s feet.
Youko took one look at Kuronue, passed his eyes over Kurama, and then turned and raised the katana above his head, blade pointing down at his feet. He plunged it down into the earth, twisted, repeated the action with a snarl.
The ground gave way below them, and suddenly they were falling. Large flowers above them were flowering, writhing and curling. They were feasting, satiating their thirst and hunger on everything and anything in sight. Purple petals flowered with hunger and their masters rage.
Through the caverns caused by the enormous flowers roots, Youko lead them away from the battlefield, and the horrid sounds of crunching, squelching and agonised wails.
“The sneaky shits must have been planning that for days, how the hell did they find our location?” Kuronue seemed intent on talking, even though whenever he did a little more blood leapt out of his side and made his muscles jerk in pain. His voice was hoarse with the blood still creeping up his throat.
“Don’t talk,” Kurama urged, wrapping an arm around Kuronue’s waist to help him stand. He placed his hand over the wound to slow the bleeding, if only a little, while he was at it. Still it leaked from between his fingers and left a dark trail after them, seeping into the soil.
Kurama couldn’t remember where exactly Youko was taking them, it had been so long since he’d travelled underground with nothing but a keen sense of smell and an excellent memory to point him in the right direction. They would, he assumed, head for the closest of their temporary safe houses where they kept plenty of medical supplies and other necessities. Usually they were well hidden and deep underground, or inaccessible unless one had wings or certain powers.
“Fuck your ‘not talking’, it keeps me calm,” Kuronue grumbled. "And I want to stay calm because I have a fucking hole in my lung."
Slowly but surely, Youko ushered them into what seemed to be an underground cave. The soil here turned hard and brittle beneath Kurama’s feet as he walked further within, and suddenly Kurama knew where they were. It was indeed a safe house, only this was the one they tended to use more often or not. Youko, unsure of just how damaged Kuronue was, had probably taken them to the one with the most medical supplies in close proximity.
No sooner than Kurama had passed the threshold of newly borrowed tunnel and into the old, dry cave,had Youko turned and taken Kuronue from him with a sharp glare. “Do not leave this area, or you will regret it, human.”
Kurama was sure, had he really been human enough to not notice the ungodly amount of traps, he would have regretted it indeed. As it was he merely nodded, then looked back to Kuronue. He was pale and breathing heavily, shivering violently. His lips had taken on an odd shade of purple as his eyes rolled back in his head. He took a step toward them, ignoring Youko's glare.
"I want to help," Kurama reasoned, frustrated with his old-self's untrust. "I know my plants, let me help."
Youko looked back to Kuronue, who was looking paler by the minute. Despite this, the winged demon still managed to roll his eyes and let out what might have been a sigh had it not been so wet and crackly. "For fucks sake, Youko. Someone will have to hold me down, he can do it."
There was a long moment of silence, and then Youko turned his eyes back to Kurama. "If he dies, you die," he said, and then started walking down one of the cavern's smaller halls. Kurama followed him wordlessly, avoiding walking over the blood that trailed after Youko and Kuronue.
-
Later, after Kurama had held down Kuronue as best he could, and soothed him while Kurama's plants stretched and cleaned and sewed Kuronue's insides back up, while he screamed and screamed, he sat by Kuronue's side as Youko wrapped thick gauze and bandages around him. Kuronue -- alive and well though exhausted and his voice hoarse from screaming -- was gracious enough to fidget restlessly while Youko told him to drink this, hold that, sit still, stop whining.
"You have some pretty impressive skills for a human," Youko murmured, looking at Kurama over Kuronue's shoulder.
Kuronue perked up a little and looked at Kurama with open curiosity.
"You need to re-evaluate your impression of humans," Kurama said, not so much as throwing caution to the wind as much as taking a gigantic risk, as he was wont to do. Damn it all, he had to figure out what Inari had in mind and he wasn't going to get anywhere if he kept hesitating. "Demons and Humans are not so different, really. The line between the two will fade over time."
"What?" Kuronue blinked, then wheezed and glared over his shoulder at Youko, who was applying something to Kuronue's wounds. He had scratch-marks and gouges from where the blast had circled around him a few times before sending him sailing to the ground.
"Under Enki's rule the kekkai barrier was destroyed. Yet the humans thrive as they have done for centuries, and the demons have gained a better grasp of...civility." Kurama didn't know why he was letting it all roll off his tongue, it just felt like the right thing to say.
Kneeling just a little before Kuronue, who was perched on a pile of soft mattresses and rugs, Youko behind him, Kurama continued grinding some herbs from this and that, until it turned into a white paste. It smelt hideous and burnt his eyes, but he kept his head down, his hair covering his face for him. He looked up at them to see their reactions. Honestly curious.
There was none, for the most part. Kuronue raised an eyebrow and chuckled quietly to himself, coughing a little when the remnants of blood in his lungs made itself known with a loud rattle. He looked vaguely annoyed for a moment.
Youko pointed with a clawed finger to the bowl of herbal salve and Kurama handed it to him. Youko snatched up his hand and turned it palm up, then placed a dollop on it. "Rub it over his ribs."
Kurama turned his eyes to Kuronue, who smiled at him, his eyes twinkling behind what little hair fell in his eyes. "He just wants you to caress me," he crooned, reaching out to touch Kurama's cheek.
There was a loud slap. Youko rolled his eyes as Kuronue groaned and winced, cradling the hand that had been at Kurama's cheek. "Ow, easy foxy. Kind of almost just died, remember?"
Kurama lowered his head to hide his smile and set to his task. Kuronue's wound didn't just end at his lung and side, whatever had hit him seemed to be spreading outward, infecting his skin and turning it a dark colour. Still, Kuronue said it didn't hurt much and Youko didn't seem worried, so Kurama believed them for the moment. He could not remember any of this happening in his past life, nor had he ever seen an attack like this, so he let the worry pass him by.
He nudged Kuronue's arm away from his side, wanting better access, and paused when Kuronue lay his arm on Kurama's shoulder. Cold leather and warm skin against his own was a feeling he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the salve and ran his hands over the skin above Kuronue's ribs. The muscles there were fascinating, always had been.
Kuronue's wings needed strong muscles to move them, and though sometimes there were shortcuts due to demon physiology, there hadn't been too much here. Kuronue's sides and back were well muscled and delicious to look at, to touch and massage. He felt his smile return.
Only Kuronue spread his legs wide under the pretence of allowing him better access, but abused their closeness by leaning forward just that little bit to ghost his lips along Kurama’s jaw and down his neck slowly.
Kurama swallowed thickly and continued his task, being sure to rub the salve in well. He kept his eyes down, focused on Kuronue’s bruised shoulder and Youko’s pale bloodstained chest.
“Kuhaaa...” He had been about to say ‘Kuronue’ in warning, but stilled and tried to ignore the sudden violent shock of arousal that speared right through him, running a course from Kuronue lips and tongue at his neck down to his barely concealed cock.
He didn’t have the strength to push himself away, even though he knew he should; especially after Youko had showed his displeasure for Kuronue flirting with him earlier. His heart ached for things long since forgotten and lost. He wanted Kuronue.
He swallowed thickly his hands pausing on Kuronue’s hips.
He could hear him grumble deep in his chest, then his lips pulled away from his neck. Kurama blinked and pulled back a bit.
Youko’s hand was fisted in Kuronue’s hair, pulling his head back until his throat was bared. He was whispering something into Kuronue’s ear, something even Kurama couldn’t hear, nor lip-read. Golden eyes flicked up to Kurama, and then violet soon after. And that was strange because he could have sworn he knew how to in the past.
Kuronue grunted and nodded then winced as Youko’s hands tightened in his hair. “Youko,” he began to say, almost as if he was complaining.
“Later,” Youko snapped.
Kuronue seemed to deflate. “Fine.”
Kurama watched curiously, leaning back on his heels once again as Youko released Kuronue and then rose, taking most of his materials with him and returning them to the shelf off to the side. His tail swished agitatedly, back and forth at random before finally curling around his leg.
Kurama turned back to Kuronue and had been about to ask what was going on, but Kuronue gave him a look (one that would make any demon take a vow of silence) and leaned forward a little as if to make himself more comfortable. Kurama was still between the bats legs, a little lower than Kuronue himself. Neither of the demons made any move to pull him away.
Kurama tilted his head curiously.
Youko looked over his shoulder at them, and then narrowed his eyes at Kuronue who only grinned up at him innocently. Youko clicked his tongue and wandered from the room, leaving the door open. “Behave yourself,” he said, his voice travelling from the hall. He’d taken one of the more viscous and dangerous buds of a flower with him, for safe storage no doubt.
Kuronue winked at Kurama. “Now’s our chance, but you have to be quiet. ”
He blinked. “Chance for what?” He couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to put it.
“This,” Kuronue said as he leant forward, reaching for Kurama.
Kurama’s human body was reasonably small compared to Kuronue’s. A seven foot demon equalled large hands, and other parts of the anatomy too. Those large hands hooked under his arms and lifted him up like a ragdoll until he was straddling Kuronue’s hips, staring down at him with wide eyes.
The hunger returned again, the ache in his chest where his heart should have been. However he didn’t have much time to contemplate it. Kuronue was suddenly threading his fingers into his crimson hair and pulling him down against his chest so that he could reach his lips without craning his neck or moving his injured torso.
He was warm. Alive. Something Kurama never thought he'd feel again.
He’d forgotten how Kuronue tasted and the way he moved his lips against his own, how he nibbled and licked and made Kurama forget everything if he let him. That one single hungry kiss had Kurama clawing at the soft comforter Kuronue lay on, either side of his head as the demon’s hands wandered, chasing the little shivers that crawled down his spine and even lower places.
Kuronue hand slid up his leg, his fingertips sliding along the inside of his thigh before cupping his ass and squeezing, massaging him, urging his hips forward into Kuronue’s abdomen.
He moaned and rocked his hips forward, biting Kuronue’s lip lightly when he shifted and one of those hand jerked his flimsy single piece of clothing up and glided along his thigh before palming his cock. Kuronue stole his breath from him with another kiss, limiting his sounds to small muffled whimpers.
He arched his back, his knees digging into the lavish rugs either side of Kuronue for leverage as he rocked forward. His hands moved to Kuronue’s shoulders and then chest as he pulled his head back and worked his way down the demon’s neck, biting lightly over one of his old scars. Kuronue’s breath hitched, and Kurama smiled. Ah, he remembered this part now. Kuronue’s obsession with scars and violent sex.
Kuronue repaid him with a dirty trick, pulling him against his chest and pulling at his cock just a little harder, rippling his fingers and sliding his thumb over the head, smearing the precome that had gathered. Kurama could help but moan loudly, and whimper when teeth latched onto his earlobe and nibbled.
A cold unfamiliar hand closed over the nape of his neck and jerked him back, dragged him off Kuronue and dropped him to the floor a few feet away. Startled, Kurama rolled onto his stomach and stood quickly, but Youko had already turned his back on Kurama and was glaring down at him.
Kurama took the time to push down the swathe of leather at his hips down and will his erection away, as well as the flush of arousal on his cheeks. He could have used the time to attack, had he been human, Youko was forgetting things. It made Kurama's eyes soften, and the ill placed irritation disappear swiftly.
This was all about Kuronue's health.
“You’re still unwell.” Youko snarled.
Kuronue’s hands were covering his face, as if he wanted to claw his eyes out. He dragged them down his face and attempted a shrug before doing a horrible job at hiding a wince. He looked up at Youko with large, innocent eyes that looked oddly grey in the underground light. “Come on, Kurama, I’m fine.”
Youko only snorted and turned on his heel, then reached out and took Kurama’s forearm in hand, jerking him along with him as the fox stormed out of the room, slamming the sliding, organic door behind him. Kurama worried that his arm would be pulled for his socket for a moment, and scrambled to keep up with his past-selves long strides.
Kurama could hear Kuronue curse behind the door as Youko lead him away.
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