How they Met

Kuronue hovered anxiously over Yoko’s sleeping form, unable for the life of him to figure out what was wrong. Yoko whined in his sleep and rolled over, curling around a pillow. No matter what we do he just keeps getting worse…my fox…what’s wrong with you? Why are you sick!?

Four days earlier the fox had mentioned that he felt slightly nauseous. The next day he’d felt dizzy and nauseous. Now, he was so ill with whatever this was that he couldn’t even get out of bed. Hoarsely, Yoko had dictated a list of medicinal plants that the forest housed and Kuronue had found them all, as daunting a task as it had been. None of it had done any good.

The fox whimpered and threw off his blankets. A moment later, he shivered and groped around for them again. Kuronue pulled them over the fox’s fitful body and pressed the back of his hand against Yoko’s forehead. He’s so clammy…he wasn’t like that before. Oh, fox, what the hell is going on!?

Yoko wasn’t asleep. How can I sleep when I feel this miserable…? He would never tell Kuronue, but he was terrified. The fox was certain he was dying. Maybe I’m a fool, but I don’t want to die…not yet, not like this. What the hell is wrong with me!? He knew he should open his eyes, let Kuronue know he was awake, but Yoko knew that he’d only see the same defeated look of heartbroken terror on Kuronue’s face that he had yesterday. We both know I’m dying, then. He felt Kuronue’s hand descend on his head and the stroking begin.
There was a knock at the door. Yoko felt Kuronue stiffen, then rise. The bat left, and Yoko heard muffled conversation. He opened his eyes and, with a massive effort that left him spent an panting, rolled over so he was facing the bedroom door.

The demon that followed his lover through the door could have been Kuronue’s clone, save for the different clothing, the height difference, and the larger wings. Yoko blinked sleepily.

“Oh…you’re awake,” Kuronue said. “Yoko, this…this is my father. He’s been around a lot longer than I have; I hoped he might have some idea what’s wrong with you.”

Too tired to speak, Yoko only nodded. Even that made the room spin crazily and he had to close his eyes again. He felt a hand on his forehead and started. He hadn’t heard the older demon move.

“You’re as much of a fool as ever, my son.” The voice that reached Yoko’s ears was velvet smooth and deadly as all hell.

Kuronue bit back his urge to snap at his father, knowing that if he did snap at him the demon would leave without saying another word. “Please…Father…can you tell me what’s wrong?”

His father freed Yoko’s wrist and pressed his thumb against the pulse. He dropped Yoko’s arm with a nod. “As I thought.” His gaze was as sharp as it ever was, boring into Kuronue’s soul. “When was the last time you bit him?”
Kuronue blinked, confused, until comprehension hit him like a brick. He shut his eyes. I’m such an idiot… “About a week ago,” he whispered.

“How your mother and I ever spawned such a fool of a child is beyond me, even to this day,” his father sighed. Kuronue flushed but said nothing, knowing he had no right to defend himself. “You were right to ask me here; he would have died before the day was out and I doubt you could have figured this out on your own before then…”

“Thank you, Father,” Kuronue said, his jaw clenching.

The demon swept past his son and paused in the door of the house, smiling oddly. “Come pay us a visit sometime, Kuronue,” he said. “We miss you…”

Kuronue glared after him a second longer and then turned to Yoko. He pulled the fox into his arms, brushed Yoko’s damp hair out of the way, and sank his teeth in,

Almost immediately Yoko felt stronger. Kuronue’s saliva sped up his heart, pumping all the sluggishness from his body and mind. By the time Kuronue pulled away, Yoko felt almost completely better. He rested his head on Kuronue’s chest. Now to convince Kuronue that this isn’t his fault… Yoko scowled. Although I certainly see where his self-esteem problems come from…

“Yoko—Yoko I’m so sorry! My father’s right, he’s been right all these years. I am a fool. I was this close to losing you and it was entirely due to my stupidity.” Kuronue turned his face away from Yoko’s, trembling. “You must hate me…”

Yoko sighed. He gently pulled Kuronue’s head around and kissed him before staring him in the eye. “I don’t hate you, Kuro. I could never hate you. And don’t listen to a word that old windbag says; he’s only trying to get a rise out of you, you know that!” Kuronue opened his mouth to argue, but Yoko pressed a finger to his lips. “No. Shush. Listen to me, love. I’m assuming your father is a vampire?” Kuronue nodded. “Then it should have been his responsibility to tell you these things. How were you supposed to know how long it took before I’d be bound to you if he never told you!? How could you know my sickness was just withdrawal because you hadn't bitten me for so long? He’s your father, Kuronue, and whether you got along or not he should have made sure you were prepared before you went off on your own!”

“I-I never even thought of that…” Kuronue said quietly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I almost killed you.”

Yoko sighed again. “No, it doesn’t. But I’m not angry at you, love. I’m just so happy we figured it out—“ he heard his voice quaver and decided he didn’t care. “I was so scared, Kuronue…I thought I was gonna die…”

Kuronue pulled him closer, shaking violently. “I did too, Yoko. I was scared out of my mind…”

Yoko watched Kuronue sleep later that night, unable to do so himself. I know he has confidence in himself…I know he’s capable of not loathing himself. He’s a vampire for Christ sake… Yoko frowned. I suppose that’s why he’s only ever confident when he’s being…vampiric. Otherwise he’s too full of self-loathing. He looks at himself and sees a younger version of his father, and even in the few moments I’ve known him I could tell he is a heartless bastard…a true monster. What Kuronue doesn’t see is that he’s everything his father is not: he’s kind, he’s loving and loyal to a fault… Yoko sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. So not only did his father never let Kuronue forget he considered his son a failure, but once he understood what he was and saw how his father behaved he believed himself to be a monster. How he must hate himself…

Yoko smiled, remembering those first impressions he’d had of Kuronue all those months ago: lying out in the freezing rain, staring up at a lumpy, mud covered, red eyed, armed monster and thinking he was going to die, and then later, waking up swaddled in warmth, Kuronue’s startled and slightly guilty face hovering over a bowl of oatmeal... Why can’t he see himself the way I see him…? He’s brave and strong, kind-hearted without being a sap, drop-dead gorgeous, a talented thief… Yoko looked over as Kuronue growled softly in his sleep. Whenever those eyes turn red and he grins that evil grin of his… Yoko smiled and closed his eyes. …he’s so dominant and sure of himself…that’s why I let him abuse and humiliate me. The master/slave game is fun but it’s his confidence I fall for. It’s not until after that he starts fussing and worrying. I know he can be strong and I know he can believe in himself. Question is, why can’t he see that?

Yoko made a decision that evening. I cannot fix the self-image his jerk of a father ingrained in him, but I can at least give him something to be proud of. He’s a natural thief; he’d probably be better than me if he’d only trust himself a bit more. I’ve been slacking in your training since that first successful steal but your vacation’s over, love. Tomorrow your training intensifies…