Lessons

Lesson One: Introductions

All he wanted was some time alone. Was that really a lot to ask? Yes, he was in a bar. Yes, he had a reputation. Yes to a lot of things, but a firm no to company for the night. He’d just pulled off a massive heist and only wanted to get drunk enough to fall asleep and forget how difficult it had been. But, the fates seemed otherwise inclined. Or at least, the annoying patrons of the bar who wanted a chance to claim they’d been bedded by the great Youko Kurama seemed otherwise inclined. This was one of those times he cursed his reputation. He couldn’t go anywhere and just enjoy time alone. He glared at his drink silently, his shoulders tensed as he tried to ignore yet another bad attempt at flirting with him.

An increase of youki, as if the owner were marking territory, caused the demon he’d been ignoring to scurry away. Unsure whether to be glad or annoyed, he looked over to the source of the energy. A black winged demon was moving to sit next to him, ignoring him completely. Confused, Kurama turned back to his drink, watching the other demon out of the corner of his eye. He was rather good looking with deep blue eyes, or at least the one on the side nearest him was blue. His hair was black, tied up on top of his head and falling down his back through the missing top of a ragged hat, two locks falling before his ears. His ears were pointed, sticking out through the brim of his hat. His features were masculine without being rugged. His body was also masculine without being rugged, his arms toned, bound by strips wound from wrist to just below his shoulders, his chest and abdomen flat under the black sleeveless vest he wore. He was a stark contrast to the almost feminine silver kitsune, and Kurama found this attractive. He was also confused by the fact that the demon had yet to look at him, much less say anything to him. And yet, he maintained the aura of claiming Youko as his. While this served to keep the rest of the bar’s patrons from bothering him, it did little to help his mood.

After several minutes of strained silence and covert watching out of the corner of his eye, Kurama turned and stared openly at the stranger next to him. Unperturbed, the dark demon continued to ignore Youko and sip his drink. Kurama was becoming irritated and ready to lash out when the dark demon set down his drink and moved to leave. As much as he hated it, Kurama found himself following the dark one out of the bar and into the street. Strangely, the possessive aura did not diminish or grow, but remained at a constant level, just enough to warn off others.

Having had enough of following, Kurama reached up and pulled the demon’s hair just enough to try and get his attention. He would have grabbed his shoulder, but the dark one’s wings were in the way. The demon, however, ignored him, continuing on to what ever destination he had in mind.

Kurama quickened his step to come even with the demon. “Hey,” he called out. The word was ignored. “Hey, what’s the idea?” he asked again only to be ignored again as the black haired demon continued walking, his pace unchanged.

Kurama grabbed one of the demon’s arms, finally getting him to stop. “What is the fucking idea?” he growled out as the demon’s blue eyes finally met his golden ones.

The calm voice that answered him threw him for another loop, “You wanted to be left alone. Why, then, did you follow me?”

“You claimed me, bastard. What is that about?”

The blue eyed demon let his head fall to one side, “You permitted it. What is that about?”

Kurama had no answer for that. It was true. He could have pushed back against the aura, fighting off being claimed, but he didn’t. The other pulled his arm from the loosened grip and walked away, looking over his shoulder to say, “When you figure it out, I’ll find you.”

“Who are you?” Youko called at the retreating back. The other only laughed and waved his hand over his shoulder, not turning around to face the frustrated kitsune. In a huff, Kurama turned, surveying the surrounding landscape. He wasn’t far from his den and he had the sneaking suspicion that the other had led him here deliberately. Growling and frustrated, he made his way to that hidden cave, only to find himself pacing and feeling overly confined in the roomy caverns. He thought about going out, but didn’t want people around. Correction, he wanted a specific person around so he could pound answers out of him, one way or the other.

“How dare he claim me?!” he yelled to the walls. “Doesn’t he know who I am?” he demanded of the vines that formed a curtain between his sleeping chamber and bathing chamber. “Well, it seems he does!” he growled at the table in the cooking area. “He practically led me here without me realizing it!” he yelled to the ceiling. “How could I not realize that?” his voice became softer as he sat in one of the chairs near the table, his anger leaving him and a feeling of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. He balled his fists on the table, “How did he know? Who is he?” His clawed hands raked through his silver hair, curling into fists just behind the furry ears that stood upright from his head, “Who is he?!” he demanded again as his elbows came down onto the table.

There was no answer. Not that he expected one. “Shit,” he murmured as his hands left his hair and his arms came to rest on the table. “Shit,” he repeated as his head came to rest on his forearms, misery taking its turn with him now. He sat there a long time, his mind turning over the events in the bar, trying to understand, not only his actions, but the other’s. Why had he let a complete stranger claim him? Why had he, “Kuro,” “Black,” as Kurama had already taken to calling him, why had he claimed him and then ignored him? Truth be told, Kurama didn’t know what bothered him more, being claimed or being ignored. Sometime during his musings, he fell asleep at the table, his head resting on his arms on the table.

Lesson Two: Waiting

Two weeks had passed since the encounter and Kurama found his thoughts frequently turning to Kuro, much to his dismay and frustration. He’d gone back to the bar and had not found him. He’d asked around and nobody knew him. He’d wandered aimlessly around the town and couldn’t find any trace of his youki anywhere. It was as if he’d never existed, except in Kurama’s mind. At night, he could clearly recall the details of their encounter, the memory plaguing his sleep. He found himself unable to work out his frustrations, too, constantly looking for the blue eyed, black haired, winged demon that taunted him. After a week, he stopped going to the bar.

In an effort to focus and reclaim his mind, he turned to planning his next heist. At least, he tried to. Every time he tried to select a target, his mind turned to Kuro and his confidence wavered. If he couldn’t track down one damn demon, who had obviously tracked him down, how was he supposed to pull off a grand theft?

Frustrated, irritated and robbed of any outlet, Kurama took to the forest, leaving his den to find a challenge that did not allow him to think of Kuro. This, too, failed him as he came upon a waterfall over black rocks, looking too much to his obsessed mind like Kuro’s hair. In a moment of insanity, he brought out a rose from his hair, transforming it into a whip and attacking the rocks until he fell exhausted, wet, panting. He looked at the pile of rubble left from his fit and it taunted him with his lack of control.

Kurama picked himself up, returning his rose to its seed form and to his hair. “Fucking bastard!” he growled. “Fucking Kuro, what the fuck have you done?”

“So, you figured out my name?” the amused voice that taunted him spoke from behind him. Kurama whirled, drawing his rose whip from his hair again. “Or at least part of it,” the voice continued.

“What do you mean?” Kurama snarled, his customary calm more thoroughly shattered than the rocks of the waterfall.

The dark haired demon walked across to the trembling kitsune, “You called me ‘Kuro,’ didn’t you?”

“Why do you think I was talking about you?” Kurama was struggling to control his rage, fighting within himself to regain his composure.

The black haired winged demon smirked, “Because you’ve been trying to find me since our last encounter.” He ignored Kurama’s start and continued, “Have you figured out why you allowed me to claim you?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued on, “No, you haven’t, because you’re too intent on finding me. I wasn’t joking, Kurama. Figure out your own mind.” He gave the confused and angry kitsune a hard glare before turning to leave. “Kuronue,” he said over his shoulder as he left the golden line of sight.

Kurama’s mind was more in turmoil now. Not only had he been taunted again, but he hadn’t sensed the demon approaching him. And, he, Kuronue, had seen his deplorable fit. And again, he’d been unable to do anything about Kuronue leaving. He fell to his knees, exhausted, and continued to stare after the departed demon. “Kuronue…” he said softly, too drained to rouse the anger needed to cloud the desire his voice held. He heard his voice as if it belonged to someone else, the longing in it confusing him more.

Lesson Three: Know Thy Self

Kurama sat by the ruined waterfall until long after the sun had set, replaying the incident in his mind. Finally, near midnight, he spoke again, “’Figure out your own mind,’ is it? I’ll figure out my mind, and yours, as well, Kuronue! You will not get the better of me!” With a sudden burst of energy, he rose from the ground and returned to his cave as quickly as he could.

When he arrived, however, the energy left him and despair returned. “If I don’t know my own mind now, how am I supposed to learn it? Where do I begin?” He paced restlessly, his mind turning in tight circles, his eyes focused inward. He spent the remainder of the night and most of the next day on this activity until he collapsed onto his bed from sheer exhaustion. Even in his sleep, he gnawed the questions over and over until they were no longer recognizable. When he woke, still exhausted, he was no closer to an answer. Hunger woke him. Mechanically, he ate, not seeing or tasting his food. He continued to sit at the table, the morphed questions of the night before circling his mind, “What do I want? Why does he know and I don’t? Why did I allow…did I want…what do I want?” The path always came back to “What do I want?”

The longer he thought about it, the more certain he became that if he knew what he wanted, he would know his own mind. But, knowing what he wanted and why he wanted it were two entirely different things, even if they were related, and he felt that, to figure out one, he’d have to figure out the other. Idly, he traced the grain of the wood with his finger.

Near sunset, he suddenly asked aloud, “Why am I letting some arrogant bat get to me? He is nothing!” Even as he said it, though, he knew it was a lie. In his mind’s eye, he saw the winged rat smirking at him. “Fucking bastard!” he screeched, standing so suddenly his chair toppled over. “Fucking sick ass rat winged bastard! How dare you! How dare you!” he raged at the walls. “How dare you ignore me!” All he could see was that smirk, mocking him. “How dare you make me want you!” His breath caught and the world paused as that statement worked its way into his brain. “I…I want him?” he asked the wall. “Why?” He knew lust, it was a near constant companion to him, but what he felt for the bat, for Kuronue, did not feel like lust, or even frustrated desire. Why, then, did it feel different? What was it? He paced the cavern from one end to the other, trying to fathom this new turn of events, trying to comprehend, trying to figure out his mind.

Near dawn, his body refused to walk another length. He fell to his bed, his mind less riled, but no less active and no nearer to answers than when he started.

Lesson Four: Pride and Prejudice

Around noon, Kurama felt as if someone was calling to him or, more accurately, that someone was near him. Before fully waking, he summoned his plants to him, to protect him. He heard laughter and felt what passed for pain as the plants were severed. He bolted upright, flipping from his stomach and sitting in a single motion, his hand reaching to his hair. What he saw did nothing to improve his mood. Sitting on his bed, within easy reach of where he’d been lying, was the laughing form that had taunted him waking and sleeping since he first saw it. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded, feeling more violated than he cared for, more violated than he’d ever felt in his entire life.

“Have you figured it out yet, Kurama?” the amused voice asked.

“Go away!” Kurama spat out, ignoring the question.

Kuronue tipped his head to the side, “Is that what you really want, Kurama?” He watched Kurama struggle with the answer a moment before asking, “What do you really want, Kurama?”

As much as he tried to fight it, Kurama felt his composure crumbling again, “Why…why won’t you leave me alone?” he demanded. “Even if you’re not here, you won’t leave me alone. Why? Why won’t you leave me alone?!”

Kuronue’s head moved to the other side, “Is that really what you want, Kurama?” His expression was neutral, void of the laughter he’d woken the kitsune up with, his eyes calm.

“Things were simpler,” Kurama began, avoiding looking at the other. “Things were a lot simper…before.” He fell silent, studying the pattern of the bed covers, the play of light and shadow, but not seeing it.

“So, have I really disturbed the great Youko Kurama that much?” Kuronue asked softly.

Kurama forced out a snort of contempt, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He still refused to look at the blue eyed demon, however.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” Kuronue countered, finally causing the golden eyes to meet his.

“What do you know about me? Nothing! I am not…” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Kuronue pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, advancing on the silver haired demon, “You’re not what, Kurama?” His voice was gentle, even with his menacing posture.

Kurama didn’t know which to react to, the posture or the voice. He didn’t know if he wanted to beat the hell out of the bat or throw him down onto the bed and get him out of his system, violently, if needed. He stood from the bed and stalked to the other side of his cave, feeling those blue eyes burning into his back, “I’m not answering you. You have no right to be here. Leave.”

After a moment of utter silence, he heard the bat’s voice just behind him, “So, you’re still trying to figure things out.” Before he could turn around, though, Kuronue was walking out of the cave. “Your pride will get in your way, Kurama. It is your pride that is hindering you, not me.” He was gone.

Kurama felt his body trembling with repressed emotions and desires. Desires to both kill and fuck the bat. Anger, shame, pride all rising to choke him. Above and beyond his feelings, however, he was violated and had his safety threatened. The bat had entered his den, his home, without tripping any of his traps, and had sat on his bed before he awoke. There was something wrong about that, something horridly wrong. He felt a tremor pass through his stomach. “Why…why am I letting that bat get to me?” he asked the room in general, somehow feeling that he knew the answer, if he were willing to face it. That was the catch. He had to be willing to face it. And…he wasn’t just yet.

Lesson Five: The Truth Shall Set You Free

Kurama left his den heading towards town, intent on getting raging drunk and finding a partner for the night to drive thoughts of the bat out of his head. The bar was crowded and he was greeted jovially. He cursed himself when he noticed he was scanning the room for the bat. He was there to forget the bat, not meet him. He stopped scanning before completing the action and walked to the bar, ordering a drink guaranteed to set him in a pleasant frame of mind after one sip and roaring drunk after one glass. He wanted to enjoy drunkenness, not getting there. He tossed the drink back, swallowing the entire contents of the glass before slamming it back onto the counter and ordering another. It was then he allowed his eyes to scan the room, looking for a suitable bed partner for the night, one that would help him forget what he couldn’t face. Most of the demons, however, he noticed were dark haired. That wouldn’t do, not to forget the bat. He needed someone who looked nothing like the bat. But, the few that were fair didn’t appeal to him. He found himself increasingly unable to focus on the task of finding a fling and more focused on finding the bat. He turned back to his drink. Instead of improving his mood, the entire evening only served to make him more miserable. The drink wasn’t helping him forget, either. It was, strangely, bringing things into focus.

Under the clarity induced by the alcohol, Kurama began to understand what Kuronue had said to him. He was proud, with reason of course. He could attain anything he went after. He was often the standard by which his myriad of sexual conquests measured their encounters…with him almost invariably ranked the best. He was beautiful, desirable, talented…all valid reasons to be proud. But, those same traits forced a certain pattern of behavior and thinking on him. He had to be confident and composed, always in control. Never was he allowed an off day, never allowed to make a mistake.

Kuronue, however, had seen him, not only out of control and discomposed, but also had shown him where he lacked confidence, caused it, even, with his taunts. Somehow, he knew that if he could somehow be with the bat, those things would be erased, be gone forever from both his memory and the bat’s. He could make them both forget that he had faults; he had insecurities. That beneath the silver exterior was a demon who sought constant validation by pushing himself to be better. Truth be told, he had very little in himself that he valued despite what others thought of him. He was always expecting to fail, always expecting to find fault in the face he presented. It was strangely a comfort and terribly frightening that, by some method, Kuronue had seen past his public façade to the soul below.

He sipped on his drink, the additional alcohol spurring his thoughts along the lines he had struggled with earlier in the day. He wanted the bat. He wanted the bat because the bat understood him. He wanted more than just a fling. He wanted something precious in this world. He wanted a friend. Someone he could trust with his faulted underbelly while the world only saw his flawless perfection. He wanted to trust the one who somehow knew him better than he knew himself. And, yes, he wanted to bed the bat. He wanted to see those blue eyes disappear under heavy lids as he used all his skill to pleasure him. But, he wanted more than just a fling with the bat. He wanted to explore the heights of ecstasy with the bat, to find new places within the fields of pleasure that he’d not explored before. Absently, he finished his drink, shoving the glass away and ignoring the barkeep when he was asked if he wanted another. His mind turned over and over everything.

Doubt made an appearance in his muddled brain. Did the bat feel the same way about him? Did he want the same things? With an unsteady hand, he pushed himself away from the bar, nearly toppling the stool, and made his way out of the bar, barely avoiding running into some of the other patrons, the alcohol and his inward thoughts making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything. The drinks had been stronger than he thought, and he was more drunk than he’d been in his life. Never before had he stumbled. Never before had he been less aware of those around him, of his being followed…unless one counted Kuronue. But, none of the patrons in the bar should have been able to follow the kitsune, least of all those who did.

Lesson Six: Patience is a Virtue Hard Won

Kurama was so far gone that he had to stop and lean against a tree to stop the spinning in his head. Muttering, slurring the words together, he asked the branches, “What have you done to me?” His head whipped around, bobbing a bit when he was answered.

“Nothing yet, but we plan on plenty.”

Kurama squinted, trying to focus on the source of the voice, but between the alcohol and the dark, he couldn’t make out the forms. Hazily, he called the plant life around him, but they weaved much as their Master did when he tried to push away from the tree. “Fuck off,” he growled. “Find yourself another bitch!” His voice lacked the force those words would have normally carried as he collapsed into the tree again.

Another voice taunted him, “If you can’t hold your drink, kitsune, you shouldn’t try to be with the big boys!”

Kurama sent a vine in the general direction of that voice, but it was slow and his aim was off. He missed the speaker completely. He was beginning to vaguely think the bartender had a part in this. “Fucking bastard,” he growled out, not entirely sure who he was cursing.

“You should really learn to be more respectful, whelp,” a third voice taunted him.

Before he could muster a defense, he found himself pinned to the ground, his arms held out to his sides by two of the speakers while the third knelt between his legs, pinning them at the knees with shins. He struggled, but, like the plants, his muscles refused to cooperate fully. This was more than just normal drunkenness, part of his mind noted as he felt consciousness slipping away from his grasp. His struggling became weaker and that observant part of his brain struggled to hang on, struggled to get his body to cooperate and cursed the bartender for spiking his drink. Blackness claimed him as his pants were pulled off his hips and cold hands began to touch his bared flesh.

Pain circled around his brain, both pulling him from the dark and pushing him to stay in it. Slowly, very slowly, he became aware of his surroundings. His head was pillowed on something soft and warm. Light didn’t assail his closed eyes, so it was either still night or he was inside. The softness continued down his body, but it had a different quality. The only pain he felt was in his head. He could feel a vague thought that he should hurt more. He was fully dressed, too, his mind noted, and under a blanket. The softness under his head moved and he could hear breathing other than his own. Still not ready to open his eyes or move, he tried to figure out what had happened. The last thing he clearly remembered was reaching clarity about why he wanted Kuronue. After that, things were fuzzy, but he had the feeling something terrible should have happened. He felt something…a hand…brush along his hair lightly as his pillow moved slightly. He moved a hand to touch his pillow, but that motion caused a violent reaction in his stomach and he found himself heaving. Arms were around him, supporting him, keeping his hair out of his face as his stomach emptied itself. Weakly, he allowed himself to be guided back to the strangely living pillow, the hand caressing his head, brushing his hair from his sweating face. Very softly, words came to him, “You should know better than to drink so much, especially when it’s spiked.”

He moaned, “My mind was occupied.”

The hand was gentle, caressing his ears as if the owner of that hand knew the massage would help settle his body, “I know. Did you reach clarity before you were stumbling?”

Though Kurama’s mind had yet to identify the speaker, he felt an instinctive trust of the voice, “Yes.”

“Good,” the voice approved as the gentle fingers continued their massage and ran through his hair. Kurama sighed and allowed himself to drift on the tender caresses. Sleep, gentle and healing, claimed the recovering kitsune before he could begin the task of recognizing the voice.

Lesson Seven: Ways and Ways of Saying Things

When consciousness returned again to visit Kurama, he was alone. Slowly, he opened his eyes, almost expecting the motion to cause him to react again. His stomach stayed in place, though, and the pain in his head was bearable. Cautiously, he looked around, moving as little as possible until he recognized his own cave. He remembered someone talking to him, caressing him. Since this was his cave, there was only one person that it could have been. He felt all around himself on the bed, but there were no cooling spots. The bat had left long enough ago that his warmth had left the bed, but not the fox’s mind. Slowly, Kurama pushed himself up off the bed, sitting slowly while his head adjusted to the motion. Sober now, he recognized the after effects of the drug he’d been given. It would be a full day, at least, before he could use his ki like he normally did. That was why the plants responded so sluggishly. His memory was returning to him. He knew that three demons had attacked him just before he passed out. So, why was it his body didn’t hurt? Why had he awakened with his head pillowed in Kuronue’s lap?

As he looked around his den, he noticed there were things on his table. He didn’t remember leaving anything there. Slowly, waiting to see if nausea would strike or the pain in his head would increase, he pushed himself up from the bed. When neither happened, he made his way over to the table. On it, were three items, a glass with light brown liquid, a bowl of something that smelled like broth, both the glass and the bowl steaming slightly, and a note. It wasn’t much of a note, only three words, but oddly reassuring. “Eat. Drink. Sleep,” was the entire contents of the letter.

Part of his mind wanted to rebel, to throw the food and drink across the room. He wasn’t a child to be cared for. The larger part of his mind, however, struggled to understand the act. Did it mean Kuronue returned his feelings? The smell of the broth reached his stomach, overriding his need to puzzle out Kuro’s motivations. Cautiously, he sniffed the drink, the light scent of ginger along with chamomile and fragrant tea reaching his nose as he did. The broth smelled hearty and again his stomach lurched. Knowing the ginger would calm his rebellious stomach, he sipped the tea, enjoying the warmth that spread throughout his body. Continuing to sip, he felt himself relax as his body calmed. After finishing the drink, he sipped the soup, foregoing the spoon to tip the bowl to his lips. As he finished the broth, he felt the chamomile relaxing him, so much so that he was disinclined to mentally argue with the remainder of the note, but returned to his bed after scrawling a quick “thank you” on the note. He knew, somehow, the bat would return before he awoke again. As he drifted off, he mused at how quickly he accepted Kuronue. Before he could continue along that line, sleep reclaimed him

As he roused again, Kurama felt the weight and warmth of an arm over him and a chest behind him as he slept on his side. He held himself still, his mind working to identify the body. Before he truly began, though, a voice spoke softly behind his head, “It’s okay, Kurama, I’m here.”

“Kuro…nue?” his voice was hesitant, the end of the bat’s name almost an afterthought.

“Yes, Kurama, Kuronue,” his voice held laughter.

“Why?”

“You said you reached clarity.” Kuronue’s hand traveled to soothe the silken silver strands that danced in his breath. “Tell me, Kurama, what clarity did you reach?”

Kurama sighed as he enjoyed the gentle strokes to his head. “How is it you know me so well?” he asked softly, almost too soft to be heard.

Kuronue continued to soothe the kitsune’s hair as he spoke. “How do I know that you hide so much? How do I seem to read your mind? How do I hide from you?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Kurama answered, his body remaining relaxed as his mind became more alert to the answers.

Kuronue continued to slip his fingers through the fair hair. “Turn around and face me, Kurama.” Reluctantly, Kurama moved to obey. Kuronue’s fingers continued to play with his hair as blue eyes read his soul, their eyes locked together for an eternity before Kuronue spoke. In that time, Kurama felt an amazing sense of connection, of understanding, of nearly unheard of compassion. He stared into those blue eyes, awed. “I know you because we are the same, you and I. We have to appear perfect, but beneath it, beneath that thin veneer, we are tormented. The first time I saw you, I felt it. I knew.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” Kurama murmured, trying to place everything Kuronue said in his mind.

Kuronue smiled softly, “No, you wouldn’t have.”

Kurama’s hand came up tentatively to touch the bat’s cheek, to feel the thick black hair that now hung loose around his head. “Will you tell me?” he asked softly, caressing the ebony locks.

“What clarity did you reach, Kurama?” Kuronue caught his hand and held it to the bed waiting.

Kurama broke eye contact for a moment, thinking how best to phrase his drunken clarity. Finally, raising his golden eyes to meet piercing blue, he answered, “I want friendship. I want your companionship. I want to get to know you as well as you know me.”

“For how long?” Kuronue asked, still holding Kurama’s hand to the bed.

Kurama wasn’t prepared for this question but found himself speaking before he had a chance to think, “As long as you’re willing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Kurama hesitated.

Kuronue moved away. “Don’t answer me now, Kurama. When you’re ready, I’ll find you again.” He ran his fingers once more through the silver locks. “Don’t go back to that bar,” he warned as he stood from the bed. “The bartender is annoyed at loosing three of his best paying customers.”

Kurama moved to sit up, “How did you know, Kuro?”

“Same way I knew where your cave was. You should sleep a little longer, though.”

Softly, Kurama murmured, “Thank you.”

“Sleep,” Kuronue reiterated.

Kurama found himself moving to obey, his body reclining as his eyes became heavy.

Lesson Eight: Times and Seasons

When Kurama awoke again, his mind was calmer than it had been since he’d met Kuronue and he could feel that the drug had left his body. He still didn’t know how to answer the other’s last question, but that didn’t cause him the same agony. Kuronue wanted him, he believed that now, despite the flaws the bat could see. Though at no time did Kuronue actually say that, Kurama knew it was true. As soon as Kurama fully knew his own mind, Kuronue would be there, for whatever length of time they…he decided on. With that knowledge, Kurama felt a wonderful security, a new feeling, one he liked.

He also felt something incredibly familiar, something he hadn’t realized had been absent since his first encounter with Kuronue. He woke up horny and hard. With a sigh, he pushed down the blanket and pulled off his clothes. Looking down, he addressed the weeping eye that glared back at him balefully. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” he asked as he wrapped his fingers lightly around the base of his erection, stroking his balls lightly. He felt himself shiver under his light touch. “Yes, yes, you’ve been neglected. And, it’s not really me you want, is it?” He let his head rest back on the bed as his free hand traced paths on his body, circling the sensitive areas on his neck, down his chest, teasing his nipples, while his other hand continued massaging his throbbing shaft, enjoying his body as he imagined what he wanted to do to the bat. His grip tightened around his shaft as in his mind, Kuronue hovered over him and slowly slid down onto his erection. In his mind’s eye, he saw Kuronue caressing him, kissing trails down his body while teasing his tight asshole down the kitsune’s erection. He tightened his grip to what he believed Kuro’s body would feel like around his member. “So tight, Kuro…so tight. Have you been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you?” His hips bucked into his hands, his imaginary lover responding positively to him. “Kuro…Kuro…I want you….Kuro…” the words tumbled from his lips as he thrust into his convulsive grip on his erection. The image in his mind threw its head back as they both reached pleasure and passion together, their bodies tight, his drawn as deeply as it would go into Kuronue’s.

His limbs trembled lightly as his body settled back onto the bed. While the release helped, he was still horny. There was only one person that could satisfy him, however, and until he finished figuring out his own mind, his mind is the only place he would have that one. He sighed again, looking down at his body once more. Both his hands were wrapped around his slowly deflating shaft, both covered in his own seed, as was his abdomen and chest.

Lesson Nine: Lust and Temperance

Slowly, he pushed himself off the bed, walked into the bathing room and slid into the warm pool that filled most of the room, elbows propped on the edge. As his body calmed, he drew swirling patterns in the water, letting his mind play over the most recent contact with Kuronue, remembering the feel of his fingers through his hair, the comfort of waking up with the bat in the bed with him. His mind wandered over the words he’d spoken during his fantasy. “Have I been waiting for you, Kuro?” he asked softly, his elbows slipping off the edge of the bath as his head tilted back to rest on the lip. “I feel…I feel as if I have…it feels like…like I have been waiting for you. Is that strange? I didn’t know you before…and yet…I feel like I’ve been waiting for a long time, Kuro.” He sighed. He didn’t understand it. He felt it, but he didn’t understand it. Another sigh escaped his lips as he continued to talk to the image of the bat in his mind. “I do want you, Kuro…for more than just sex. Yes, I want to map your body, to trace every line, to taste you thoroughly, but…I want to wake up with you, to plot with you, to be with you. How long?” He sighed, “I don’t know. Would forever be long enough to get to know you?”

“Probably not,” a soft voice answered him.

Kurama jumped in the water, standing, turning to face the voice that should have only been in his mind. “Kuro…nue,” he stammered out, again, the last part of the name an afterthought. His eyes widened even more at the sight of the naked bat standing in the room with him, his body pale, toned…nicely proportioned. Unconsciously, he licked his lips at the sight of the heavy shaft that hung flaccid between the bat’s legs.

“Like what you see, Kurama?” his voice was soft, dark.

“Absolutely,” Kurama answered without hesitation, his eyes roving the entire length of the pale form before him as it approached. “I very much like what I see…and what I can’t see, I’d like to get to know.”

Kuronue sat on the edge of the pool, his feet in the water, his legs spread. Kurama approached him slowly, sliding between his knees. “I have only one more question, Kurama. And, you can call me Kuro, if you wish. I like how it sounds falling from your lips,” as he said this, his finger lightly traced those soft petals, avoiding Kurama’s attempt to capture it.

Mildly put off, Kurama asked, “What question, Kuro?” How much of his mind did he need to know?

Kuronue’s hand slid back into the silver hair, cupping the fox’s head as he did, “Will you allow yourself to submit to me?”

Kurama’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Kuro’s hand slid down to his neck, “Will you allow yourself to submit to me? Will you allow me to penetrate your body?”

“No one has…”

”I know,” the bat cut off the protest before Kurama could fully start. “I want to know that you trust me. I need to know that. I need you to submit to me, Kurama. I know I ask a lot of you, but I can offer much in return.”

“What possible return?” Kurama hated the idea of submitting to anyone. He was the one in control. To submit put him at a disadvantage, took away his control of the situation. He couldn’t give that up.

“Me,” Kuronue answered simply.

Kurama found himself leaning against the strong chest before him. “You ask so much, Kuro,” he said softly as the bat continued to caress his head. “Why?”

Kuronue wrapped his arms around the fox, “Because of why I know you hide so much.”

“Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to wait longer?” Kurama made no move to get away from the bat, even though his voice was petulant.

Resting his head against the silvery hair, Kuronue sighed, “It’s only fair I tell you since I ask so much of you.” He nuzzled his cheek against the top of the kitsune’s head, his lips brushing the softly furred ear. Kurama sighed and waited, wrapping his arms around the bat’s waist. “For all appearances, my family was happy and close knit. My parents were happy, my brothers and I were happy. I was the oldest, and great things were expected of me: To marry, to produce heirs, to take over the family lands. But, the happiness didn’t extend past the surface, past the public face. At home, my parents barely spoke. To this day, I don’t know how they managed to conceive five children. When I reached maturity, I was shown many potential mates. None of them appealed to me. They were all attractive, but I didn’t care for female companionship. My father took this very badly. I didn’t fully understand until I found my mother with one of the girls who’d been brought to tempt me. My mother’s face was buried between the girl’s legs and they were both making sounds of exquisite pleasure. I found myself wondering what it would be like to be with another man while I watched them. I must have been lost in thought there a long time because one of my brothers told my father I’d been watching. He summoned me and began questioning me harshly about what I’d seen, what I felt about it, how it made me feel. I made the mistake of telling him I wondered about being with another man.” Kuronue’s voice caught in his throat and he turned his face to the silver hair, a shuddering sigh rippling out of his lips. “He summoned his guards, four of them holding me while the rest took their turns with my body.” Kurama could feel the bat trembling and tightened his arms around him. “After that, after my father watched them, he gave me an ultimatum. I had to find a suitable companion among the girls he’d presented me or leave forever. There was a great feast that night. I had to attend, to show the family unity to the world. I had to smile, to flirt, to be charming while my body was in agony, while my mind reeled. Halfway through the night, I snuck out and left my family’s home.”

Very softly, Kurama whispered, “Kuro…” He’d heard tales where children were cast out because of petty reasons, they were common place, after all, but never had such a tale struck him so deeply. He could feel the pain of the one he held.

“I haven’t been able to let anyone penetrate me since then,” Kuronue whispered, his face still pressed into the silver hair. “That was my first experience and I can still remember the pain. It’s been…years and years ago.”

“I want you, Kuro,” Kurama whispered, “but, I need time, a little more time, please, before I can submit to you. I still need to contend with…”

“Your pride and your feelings of worthlessness,” Kuronue finished.

“Yes.” The two concepts should have been mutually exclusive, but they were how Kurama felt. “But, please, don’t leave yet. Join me in the bath?”

Kuronue pulled his head up from the silver hair, “Not just yet, Kurama.” When the fox looked up at him to protest, he silenced him with a gentle kiss. “If…if you can submit to me, though,” he said softly, the words barely leaving his lips, “then, maybe, I can learn to submit to you. We both have much to work through, don’t we?”

Kurama brought a hand up to the cheek that hovered so near his face. “We will,” he murmured, “We will work through it, Kuro, because we want it.”

Kuronue took the kitsune’s hand in his own and kissed it on the palm before standing, “I’ll be around, you know that. When we’re ready, Kurama,…”

“You’ll find me,” he finished.

Kuronue wrapped his wings around his nude body and left the room.

Lesson Ten: Top and Bottom, the Geometry of Relationships

Kurama brushed his fingers against his lips, still feeling the light kiss that had been laid there. It was strange, he thought, he could still feel Kuronue’s lips against his own, a warm tingling sensation. “What do you do to me, Kuro?” he mused aloud, still staring after the departed bat. He let his body slide back into the water, sitting again, looking at his hand where the bat’s lips had touched. It, too, felt warm. He could feel that warmth spreading through his body and his mind. “Kuro…I’ll do what I have to…and…I’ll help you, too.” He ducked under the water, wetting himself thoroughly and began the task of cleaning his hair and body quickly. He was determined to overcome his reluctance to being penetrated as quickly as possible. He’d never thought to use his plants on himself before, but, for Kuro, for some reason, he was willing to try anything.

After washing himself, he got out of the water and moved to sit near the vent from the heat source that kept the water warm, drying his hair and body while he tried to prepare himself for his upcoming activities. He truly had never been penetrated, had never even allowed anyone to touch him in that area. He was feeling nervous, to say the least. Even the knowledge that he would be in control of the plants did little to comfort him. The only thing that made him even want to try, even consider trying, was that it was for Kuro, and he wanted the bat, more than was reasonable.

When his hair was dry and swirled loosely around his body in the warm currents, he moved back to his bed, pulling a seed out and looking at it in his palm as he stood by the mattress. “For you, Kuro…” he whispered, dropping the seed on the ground and crawling onto the bed, his legs spread, facing the seed. He’d never been more nervous about anything having to do with sex. Never before in his life had his stomach fluttered so badly, nor his pulse raced so quickly. Even his first encounter, so long ago, had not caused this effect in his body. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and sent a burst of ki to the plant. Four tendrils grew out of the seed, two wrapping themselves around his legs, holding them spread, one wrapping itself around his shaft, the final seeking his opening. The plant would act of its own accord now until he came. Once started, there was no stopping it, even with his ki. That was why he selected it. He had others that could do similar things, but he could stop them. The plant was almost more of a youkai than a plant, except that it could only perform one function, one time.

He took a deep breath as the vine around his shaft began stroking him, teasing every bit of his shaft, excreting a clear gel that made the action more pleasurable. He felt his body respond to the gliding friction, the tip of the vine teasing the sensitive nodule just below the head of his shaft, tracing a path up to tickle the slit. He sighed as he felt his legs repositioned and tried to relax himself as his feet came to rest on the mattress. He gasped as he felt the tip of the vine, slick with the same gel that coated his erection. It was lightly circling his opening, slowly increasing the pressure as the circles grew smaller and smaller. His stomach fluttered and he screwed his eyes shut when the circling motion stopped and the vine rested against his opening. The tendril teasing his slit slid in slightly, the pleasure of that motion distracting him from the instant of penetration. His body shuddered and struggled to adjust to the intrusion, even though the vine itself was no thicker around than his smallest finger.

Then, the vine in his body touched something…and he found himself arching into it. He’d never quite understood the reactions of those males he’d bedded, but now…with his own prostate being lightly touched by the questing vine, he had a moment of clarity to rival any other moment in his life. “Kuro…” he moaned as the contact continued, his slit still being teased. The vine within his body grew wider, becoming as thick as his thumb and drew slowly out of him. He whimpered at the lost contact to his sweet spot, but his mind, his body was distracted from this loss by a slight tightening around his shaft, the vine becoming more demanding in its attention. His own hands wandered trying to touch his entire chest as the vines continued to torment him. He cried out again, “Kuro!” as the vine in his ass slid back in, growing wider and striking his prostate. It was now as wide as his first two fingers, and though it hurt a little, burned slightly, the feeling of pleasure he received, the fantasy of the bat being the one with him instead of the plant, was much more than he’d anticipated. His hips bucked into the vine around his shaft and rocked back into the one up his ass as they set up a rhythm that brought him quickly to the brink and held him there. His orgasm was stayed by a tendril at the base of his throbbing erection, not allowing him to come until the one in his body was as wide around as his own shaft. Kurama felt himself whine in want, in need, as the vine in his ass grew to be three fingers around, the stretching still burning, but that sensation offset by the pleasure that swirled in his body every time it brushed against his sweet spot. The bat’s name fell from his lips over and over, his desire, his mantra, his need.

Kurama’s voice was harsh with passion and lust, his hands tangled in his hair, pulling his ears as his tail brushed his body. He’d never wanted to come so badly, never needed it more, the vision of the bat tousled with desire as he thrust into his body driving him insane. The vine in his ass was nearly the size of his shaft and he felt no burning as it slowly expanded, only increasing pleasure and pressure as his orgasm was continually stayed. With one last thrust, the vine reached his size, striking his prostate dead on as its partner released the tendril at the base of his erection and stroked him firmly. Kurama’s shaft exploded, his vision white, his body trembling violently as he screamed the bat’s name. He was completely unaware of the plant leaving his body, unaware of anything for a long time. He’d never experienced such an intense euphoria before. Never had his fantasies been so intense.

When he returned to himself, his body had been cleaned off and he’d been covered with his blanket, a note near his head. “If it’s like that with you, I think I can learn,” was the note, no signature, not that he needed one.

A/N I really was trying to wait until Sunday to post this...but....I'm such a review whore! Hope you enjoy my birthday gift to you, even if I couldn't wait to give it to you. The rest of it will be up in a couple of days...I may even be able to actually wait until Sunday ;)