Partners by Moonlight

(AN: ^^; Wow, this is the longest I've went with out updating this, sorry about that. Real life kept me away from the computer, but now I'm back and writing just as often as before. Since this took so long, reviews are much appreciated to make sure I know the story is still good. >.> And if I should continue...)

Kurama returned with food an hour later, poking his head through the door before chuckling and pushing it open with his foot. “Damn, and here I was hoping I’d find you doing something naughty.” Carefully he carried in a tray of food and a bottle tucked under his arm. Kuronue remained silent, his stomach distracting him from what ever insult he would have responded with. Sitting up carefully he inspected what the kitsune had brought him. The tray had various items of food, all piled on eight different plates.

“You’ve made me as spoiled as you are, Kurama...” Kuronue licked his lips, picking a little off of each plate. The kitsune’s cooking was one of the few things he looked forward to in his life, and what he missed most when they were out on the road. When he leaned forward to snatch up another piece of what tasted like fish, his hair slipped from his shoulders and fell into the dipping sauce. Kuronue sighed; he hated his long hair, but wouldn’t cut it. For a stupid reason, he thought, but it was worth it. The winged demon slowly reached for the strap of leather he used to tie his hair up, his ribs protesting loudly until he finally fell back, breathless and in more pain than he had first had.

“All you had to do was ask, stupid.” Kurama snatched the tie off of the night stand and sat next to Kuronue. “Why do you put it up?” He ran his fingers through the satin-like ebony hair. “You’re really beautiful when it’s down...”

Kuronue looked away to hide the small blush rising to his cheeks. The kitsune’s words were a good example of why he didn’t cut it... “It’s in the way.”

“It’s beautiful...” Kurama stroked his hair, letting the strands fall between his fingers before gathering more in his hand. For some reason his hair fascinated the silver youko. He looked up at his partner then leaned forward, turning Kuronue’s head toward his. “Don’t you ever take another hit for me like that again... I don’t like worrying about you.”

“Why... Why would it bother you? What do you care if I live or die...”

“I do care! Kuro I...” Kurama sighed and lightly kissed his lips. “I care... more than I should, in fact.”

“Oh?” A knock on the door earned a growl from both. Kuronue was ready to get out of bed himself and tell who ever it was to go away when their host’s head popped into the room.

“Everyone decent?” The old man wheezed, his form of chuckling, and walked inside sniffing at the air. “I was wondering what that good smell was...”

“I cooked dinner for everyone, there’s enough left downstairs for you and Yoriko.” Kurama said as he yawned.

Tamenai patted the area between Kurama’s ears. “Some day, you’ll make a fine housewife.” Turning quickly to avoid the kitsune’s wrath, he headed for the door then hastily slipped out.

“I hate him.” Kurama glared at the door, ears folded back. Kuronue was trying his best not to laugh, choosing to grab the tie from Kurama’s lap and started working on pulling his long hair up. The kitsune eyed Kuronue as he finished the meal, then picked up the tray and set it beside the bed. “Tch... Kuro... If you’re going to put it up, at least make the damn thing useful.” He reached into his robes then took out a slim silver rod which was bent in a few places on one end. “If you’re ever captured,” Kurama slipped the rod into the back of Kuronue’s tie, where the hair was gathered on top of his head. “Use this to get free. It’ll unlock most locks, quietly too.” He caressed Kuronue’s cheek and leaned in for a soft and slow kiss, one he knew would raise the temperature in his lover’s body a few degrees. As Kuronue started to respond Kurama pulled away, smirking. “That’s for petting my tail. Good night lover.” The kitsune flopped over on his side, back to Kuronue.

“Good night...” Lover... it wasn’t the exact word he was scared of, but it was close enough. At the back of his mind, he knew that what he feared had come true... he had fallen in love with Kurama. His reaction to the earlier danger that Kurama was in was the catalyst. No one in the Makai would do that, unless the person held a large amount of worth to them. Like it or not he had fallen... and hard, at that. Kurama wasn’t a fool either, so he probably knew. “Wait... Kurama?”

“Mmmmhmm?” Came the sleepy response.

“We didn’t finish talking about... what we were talking about earlier...”

Kurama turned over, facing his partner. For once the kitsune looked completely serious, tail tip twitching with suppressed emotion. “I was hoping you’d forget about that...”

“You would,” Kuronue chuckled, head turned toward Kurama.

“In all seriousness Kuro...” Kurama sighed, scrubbing at his face. “I know you care about me... And I... care for you as well. It was painfully clear to me when I thought I was going to lose you.” Kuronue just stared at him, not sure if he was still under the influence of the drugs. “So... what now? What do you want to do?”

Kuronue thought about Kurama’s words for a minute, considering the options. He could tell Kurama that it was more than just the simple words the kitsune had used, that he was in love... Or he could just ask to be exclusive, not seeing Kurama screwing around seemed like a pleasant idea.

Kurama chuckled, “of course, we could always be mates.” He smirked, sweeping his hair back over his shoulder. “I guess I could try to use my skills on you only. Seems like a waste though...” The kitsune’s chuckle died down as Kuronue’s face fell, smile instantly leaving his lips. “Hey I..”

“What ever you want Kurama.” Kuronue turned his head back to stare at the ceiling, then settled more comfortably against the pillows and closed his eyes. “As long as you know that I care... just stick to what I asked you before...” The winged demon felt defeated, as if all his energy left when the hope drained from him. He also felt stupid and idealistic; as if someone with a reputation that Kurama had could keep from screwing around.

“Kuro?”

Feigning sleep, Kuronue didn’t stir as Kurama shook his shoulder lightly. After a few tries at rousing him, Kurama gave up and turned his back on his partner, settling into sleep. Their talk had come at a bad time, Kuronue decided. He didn’t know what he wanted; all he knew was that his feelings wouldn’t go away, no matter how many attempts he made at dismissing them. Inwardly he shrugged, at least he knew Kurama cared. That could be enough, for now...

~*O*~

Mentou didn’t have time to lick his wounds, he knew he had to return to his father and relay the news that would probably end his life. Silently he cursed Kuronue and his selfishness. How hard would it have been to let him leave with that girl? The one surviving servant inched away from him; even a low class demon could sense his rage. There was only one thread of information that could help him live, and he clung to it like the lifeline that it was. Kuronue cared enough about someone to risk dying... that was something his father would find very interesting indeed. Itsukai took pleasure in torturing Kuronue; finding something new to pick at was an added bonus. Mentou smiled darkly and hoped he’d be able to watch that kitsune suffer at the hands of his father. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to see that snotty silver haired one be put into his place... and the look in Kuronue’s eyes as his hope drained from him as he lost yet another precious thing to him... The winged demon shrugged, chuckling to himself. He was more of his father’s son that he’d care to admit.

As the servant crept away from the door to his father’s room, Mentou took in a deep breath. He’d have to play this very carefully, or he’d die before he was able to offer the tidbit of information to his father. Then he’d wait, like a fisherman with a baited hook, hoping his father would bite and spare him long enough to show that he wasn’t completely useless. Closing his eyes he pressed both hands against the blood red, intricately carved door and pushed, leaning most of his weight against the heavy doors to move them forward. The light was dim and smoke hung in the air from the incense burners which hung from the ceiling. “Hello father...”