Antihistamine

-What I have currently written on this story. Incomplete, but it’s getting too long.

Disclaimer: Standard.

Antihistamine

- Ningenkai - ??

Fingers.

Fingers were dragging him from sleep. Running over his face, down his neck, hovering at the base of his collarbone before falling, trickling down. They ran across his chest like butterflies, taunting him, making him lean up only for the pressure to lighten even further. A small growl emerged from his throat.

Nimble, tiny, teasing little fingers. They slowly played with his coat, tugging it smoothly, gently from around him. He could only wait in baited anticipation as they dropped that, then returned, smoothing out the shirt before whisking that off as well. And it seemed like an interminable, much too long time where his chest was left cool, shivering to the night air.

But when pressure returned, it was all worth it.

Lips.

Lips slid on feathery wings across his body. Dancing across his collarbone, drifting up to nuzzle on his ear as the fingers with increased pressure clung to his hips, and then wound their course lower as well. They were slightly sticky, ambrosia like, slick from repeated moistening in anticipation. Blind hands reached out to find this angel.

Warm, sweet, torturous petite lips. The high pants were pushed down to his waist by the fingers. Small laughter came from the darkness as the lips descended, then opened, to reveal a tongue that circled the navel. It retreated as this unearthly being kissed their way back up his chest. And then the lips paused, inches away, allowing honeyed breath to mingle with his sleep coated one. He couldn’t deny himself the deep breath.

With effort, the eyes tried to open, only to be stopped by those fingers again. “No, Hiei.” He tried to struggle against it, tried to find out just exactly what was doing this to him, setting every nerve in his body on fire. But the fingers remained firm, and soon the lips joined the plea.

They molded themselves, slowly, easily, perfectly, to his. And his arguments were dissolved, turning into moans of pleasure as he welcomed the kiss, pressed into it, opened for it, and deepened it. The mouth slid open with a tinkling laugh, and that hungry tongue met his for a moment before retreating playfully, enticing him in. He followed without a moments hesitation, answering the siren’s call.

Hands.

His hands reached out again, and this time they hit something. Silken material, screaming sensuality. Small waist. A small, tiny waist. His arms swept around it and drew it in, pressing the body against him.

Whoever it was was taller than him. Not a terrible surprise, almost everyone was taller than him. It did nothing to narrow down his choices. The body settled down in front of him, then tilted it’s head, pushing the kiss into a new angle and causing him to gasp desperately for breath as the tides changed in the attack.

The palms moved up, melding the body to his own, and another clue was revealed.

Female. His avenging angel was a woman, or at least had plastic surgery. Breasts were pressed tight against his chest. And feeling them shift slightly, obviously unbound under the kimono as the woman leaned back for a gulp of air before returning to trail along his jaw, he was struck by sudden curiosity, that caused his fingers to twitch and his mind to begin to burn.

Ribbons.

Ribbons long and smooth, ones that had recently formed her obi, dropped to the ground underneath his tree branch as his hand slowly uncurled itself inside that barrier. Touching the skin was like touching flames themselves. The woman paused to shudder and pant slightly as he glided his fingers up, marveling over the softness. They paused between her breasts and the woman moaned, foisting herself further against him, making him more aware of the way she easily rested between his legs.

Tight, restraining, traitorously binding ribbons seemed to stop his movements as he panted against the top of her head, causing the hair there to stir.

Hiei was frozen.

The voice spoke again, scorching against the skin, pressed into his neck, and also very, very still. As if waiting. “Scratch it. I want you to scratch it for me.” It moaned slightly, full of promises and desires. “Hiei, please.”

Instantly, he knew who it was. He struggled, clawed vainly for clarity, awareness, but he was still trapped amongst this vision. And he couldn’t help it. She had lit him up, and he craved desperately to crackle in merry fire against her. The fingers melted, pressed to her heat, and slowly began to spread.

She sucked in a breath as they opened on her chest, growing closer and closer to covering her. Her fingers stilled, then grabbed for his waist, clutching the hips. Her mouth rose like a predator, stalking his own and claiming her victory with swift decisiveness. Hands grasped, and the ribbons that were holding him, the icy ones, dropped fully away to follow hers.

The fingers fully extended, just brushing the edges of her nipples, and immediately her pelvis tilted forward against him as she cried out into his mouth in success.

He was doing it. She was winning. But the sound of her muffled shout also shot him back into reality.

Red eyes tore open, to find -

nothingness. The night was empty. He had only imagined that flash of blue and the glints of pink before the clouds in his eyes skittered away. His chest was heaving as he clutched it, clutched the coat that suddenly seemed much to warm for the weather. Looking out into the empty night, Hiei growled. “Kuso.”

She had done this to him, stirred up his desires this far. The heat against his skin seemed to fade, but it still pooled in one area as he remembered her face. The demon winced, turning his head away to glare at the moon. Why did she have to make him... so painfully tight?! Especially when she was just teasing him!

“Baka onna, I’m going to kill you!” He flipped to the side, angrily stretching himself out to relieve the pressure. He refused to quench the desire, stoop down to acknowledge it once more. Angry red eyes stared out into the quiet night in an effort to return to sleep, without distractions!

- Reikai -

It was nearly two it the cloistered room. Nearly two and a light still bobbled merrily to itself, keeping invisible beats with the wind. The only sounds were the slow and steady stokes of a hairbrush.

Brush down, hair smooths, grasp the ends, brush up, hair flips, repeat. Powder blue gleamed to perfection and still it continued.

It had been a busy day, she should be exhausted by now, but she wasn’t. She’d been working past midnight tonight, fetching souls, and she usually went to bed right after, but she didn’t. The hairbrush stopped promptly everyday at one hundred strokes, but it hadn’t. Her routine had been normal down to the letter until a month ago. One horrible, beautiful month. Never before that month did she daydream of wildly romantic and bordering erotic encounters with a man, let alone a man she knew, and a stubborn fire demon at that!

But now she did.

She imagined his kisses driving her wild, his fingers adoring her body, his pressure pushing her under, and his rhythm delivering her to the gates of heaven. It occupied her fuzzy visions, her fantastical excursions. She hadn’t seen him that often after the Tournament, once or twice during her visits to Ningenkai, a dark shadow haunting a park, but each time she had, her heart had beat at twice it’s regular rate. Did he know what he was doing to her?

The first time, she had tried, breezily, to make cheerful conversation, calling out in her genki voice. He had merely stared at her, as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away, and slowly she felt herself faltering, stumbling in his gaze. The rest of her sentence had fallen into a breathless whisper, almost throaty as she had peered up at him. And it had dropped out. A diamond of truth, but a mistake all the same.

“Hiei, I think you’re seducing me.”

His eyes had widened and his mouth had parted, as if in insatiable hunger, but only briefly. Surprise and sudden desire, there one minute, gone the next. He closed up like a stone wall, glaring at her and rushing off, disappearing into the real shadows.

The second time she saw him, she didn’t even speak.

But his cool red eyes had followed her the entire time she was in view. She knew. She could feel them on her back, slowly stripping her to the bone. And uncontrollably she shivered for several minutes after.

In the mirror, pink eyes stared back at the ferry girl. Dazed, she set down the brush, not caring that she had gone past her usual mark by several hundred more. “Wha - what’s becoming of me?” she asked quietly. She was supposed to get over this, go back to her regular life, settle into normal. Instead, Botan found herself hoping against fate, willfully tearing at her bonds and trying to return. To that one moment, when everything felt right. When some bolt had unfastened, and the key that she didn’t know she was looking for slid into place.

That night. A month ago.

Logic turned insubstantial as it made a month’s time disappear.

- Hanging Neck Island - Dark Tournament

Tired tears welled at the corner of suspiciously bright pink eyes. Too much was happening. Too much. Botan sat on a bed in the hotel, her mind revolving on itself. The team was getting beat up repeatedly, Koenma refused to tell her anything about what was going on, barely anyone was friendly to the group, except maybe, oddly enough, Sakyo, who had become interested in Shizuru, and to top it all off, Genkai was dead, and she couldn’t even cry with anyone. Because those that would have a good bawl with her could not be told, and those that could be told either wouldn’t care or would keep their grief to themselves. This Tournament was tearing her apart, battle by battle, and she wasn’t even one of the people fighting.

A knocking came at the door, interrupting the water about to surge down her cheeks. Botan glanced up, then hurriedly began wiping the moisture off with her sleeves, trying desperately to kill all the signs. Shizuru might be as tough as nails, at least outwardly, but Keiko and Yukina were highly worried, and the human girl in particular could be set off at a moment’s notice into yelling and fits of anger then long stretches off weeping and feelings of futility. Seeing more crying would be all it would take to start that up. Fixing a forced smile onto her face, Botan watched the door open.

“Hello! Back from dinner?”

“If you could call it that,” Shizuru muttered, dropping her jacket onto a nearby chair. She strolled into the bathroom, hunting for a toothbrush.

Behind her, walking more softly, Yukina gave a small smile. The ice maiden’s turquoise hair gleamed faintly in the lamplight. “Yes. It was a good meal. Kazuma offered me his dessert. ‘Cookies’?” she tilted her head, making sure she had gotten it right, “are very good.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” Botan responded, letting her fake smile slip into a real one. Yukina was a very soothing person to be around.

Sounds came of the door locking back into place, and Keiko trod heavily back to the chair, tossed Shizuru’s jacket to a bed, and sat down with a plop. Her forehead was creased as she sighed and leaned tiredly back. “Uh,” she moaned faintly. Her actions could mean only one thing: She’d had another fight with Yusuke. That was a clear warning to watch what you said. Taking in part of the conversation around her, she spoke up. “Why didn’t you come to dinner with us, Botan?”

The ferry girl missed the signs, replying without thinking. “I wasn’t hungry.”

The brunette lifted her head off the chair as Yukina nodded sympathetically but said firmly nonetheless, “You need to eat to keep up your strength, Botan.”

Not paying attention, Botan barely caught it. Her eyes were fixed on Keiko as her mistake came down full force. The girl would ask ‘why,’ surely, and Botan had no explanation that she could give without upsetting her. Thankfully, she was aware of Yukina’s statement enough to find a quick response.

“Oh, I will! I’m feeling much more hungry now, in fact. I think I’m going to go downstairs and get some food right now! Ah, please excuse me!” Jumping up, she sprinted for the door, barely remembering to grab her keys on the way out.

As the heavy wood thudded into place, Shizuru walked out of the bathroom, toothbrush gone but cigarettes now out as she moved firmly to the balcony. She needed a fag to sooth her nerves. Curious eyes darted only once to the door. “She in a hurry or something?”

“I guess,” Keiko replied helplessly, sighing and settling back into the chair.

--

Wandering around, Botan had no desire to return to her room. She had eaten hours ago, at eight, at a lonely table by herself. And when she had finished, she had still felt like crying. No condition to return to the explosive Keiko. So, without purpose, she had drifted, moving along hallways like a wraith, watching shadowy doorways with empty eyes. By midnight, she found herself once more in the dining area, but it had evolved into something entirely different.

This wasn’t the traditional, bare-bones dining room she had eaten in earlier. That side of the room was closed, roped off, and another side was open, colored lights flashing enticingly. This wasn’t what Botan was expecting when she moved back with the vague thought to get warm milk to maybe sooth her nerves. This was the place for a different kind of beverage.

This was the night life.

Curious and slightly enchanted, Botan moved forward, into the club like atmosphere. People were up, moving in the closely packed area, sliding past one another in much closer quarters than she was used to. Wide eyes watched as demons and a few humans alike danced in a cleared area, the music pounding behind them. Fascinated, she watched their twisting forms for longer than she should have, and a demon jostled her before she could come back to herself.

“Watch it, missy!”

“Sorry, sorry,” she replied quickly, darting off to the more steady area of the bar before she could get herself into trouble. Finding an empty stool, she pushed herself into it and twirled idly, staring down the long counter at the variety of demons that had gathered after hours.

A thump startled her out of her observation. “What can I get ya, love?” The bartender, a clean shaven demon with pointed eyes but an affable expression pushed the mug of what appeared to be beer over to the demon next to her, then turned to Botan. The rag in his hand began wiping up the slop that had fallen during delivery. “Well?”

“D-do you have something non-alcoholic?” Botan tried hesitantly, looking up at him with big eyes.

The demon sighed, then shook his head. “Ya won’t be findin’ that here, love. We don’t have enough requests for it to keep it stocked. If ya wanted something like that, it would have been better to come by earlier, when the main hall was up and runnin’.”

Growing nervous, Botan squirmed in her seat slightly, then spoke again. “Oh, well then. Um, I’ll have whatever he’s having.” She pointed to the left, where the supposed beer had gone.

“Right-o, coming up,” he said easily, wiping the bar down out of habit once more before throwing the towel over his shoulder. “First drink’s on the house, by the way.”

Flushing, she nodded quickly. Thank goodness, she had forgotten she would have to pay when she finished. But one drink should be enough to quench her thirst and hopefully calm her down. She’d had wine before, this couldn’t be that different, right?

Her eyes drifted back to the dancers while she was waiting. A new song had come on, and slowly Botan felt her eyes widening. Some of those moves just couldn’t be legal! Her mouth dropped open slightly at the pure sexuality of it all, and she belatedly flipped, just in time to meet her drink. Thanking the bar tender, who waved her off, she hurriedly gulped down the drink.

And choked on the taste, coughing for a few moments before she could get her breathing back under control. It wasn’t like wine. It tasted like rich honey, but was much, much stronger. Her eyes watering, Botan carefully took another small sip to ease the burn. That was better, not nearly so bad. Breathing deeply, she began slowly nursing her drink.

It was twenty minutes later when a new couple seated themselves to her right. Demons, a man and a woman, by what she could tell. The male only had eyes for his partner, his arm snug around her waist and almost pulling her off her own stool. The woman didn’t seem to mind. In her fuzzed state of thinking, Botan knew she wouldn’t have. She brought the large glass to her lips again, watching the couple out of the corner of her eyes.

The man leaned in and began suckling on the woman’s neck. Botan wasn’t even embarrassed by it anymore as she continued to watch, but the woman wasn’t concentrating, her eyes far off and distant as she watched the back of the bar. With annoyance, the male demon showed some of his teeth, then sat up straight, turning his partner’s head towards him. “Come on, baby, what’s wrong?”

The voice in response was wooden. “Mukashi died today. He practiced everyday, but he still died.” Beside them, Botan still had the awareness to wince. Her worst fear, already realized once. She felt sudden empathy to this demon woman.

“Everybody dies, baby. You gotta save your time for the living.”

There was no response, the woman still stared, a silent tear rolling down her cheek in honor of her fallen comrade. Watching this, the man suddenly sighed, then put his other arm around the woman.

“Hush, baby, hush. These things happen, you gotta get over them.”

Her voice was broken in response. “I don’t... think... I can.” The head went down as it buried itself in his arms.

Hesitantly, he began patting her on the back, listening to the muffled sobs that seemed to escape against his chest. “Look, I can help you get over him.”

Silence, then the head rose, tear stained. Botan watched on, caught. “Really?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” he responded. “I’ll help you forget about him. Just for one night,” he said quickly, cutting off the sudden darkening of her eyes and the protest that she never wanted to forget Mukashi. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel a lot better in the morning. You got an itch for Mukashi, a yen? I’ll scratch it for you, real good. You’ll never know it’s not him.”

Sniffles came from the demon woman as she rested against him, then a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. “Okay. Fine, that’s... fine. Just for one night?”

“Sure thing,” he responded. “You trust me?”

The woman let out a few sorrowful chuckles. “Yes, Junsuke, I trust you. Who couldn’t?”

Botan was listening carefully, lapping it all up in her slightly inebriated state. Something, something could stop her from crying? She paid close attention to the couple, searching for the answers.

Junsuke rubbed the woman’s back encouragingly. “That’s right, baby, just keep thinking that way.” He let one hand slide up her thigh, under her skirt, then back down and tucked it into place. “Come on, let’s go get a room and you’ll spend the whole night with me. I promise I won’t let you go the entire night.” Lifting her head, he kissed her quickly on the lips.

Nodding tiredly, the woman slowly stood as the man helped her, and they both vacated the bar, never having ordered a drink. Botan watched them go, feeling enlightened, and glanced back into the bottom of her glass. She finished off the last dregs, then sat it back on the counter with a small thump. Her mind was running as she slipped off the stool, wobbling for a bit before she could catch her balance.

All she needed to do, it seemed, was find someone who would be willing to spend the night with her and hold her. And scratch some sort of itch. Would it be on her back? Botan didn’t know, but the whole process didn’t sound that confusing. Giggling slightly from the buoyed feeling she was receiving from the alcohol, her thoughts flew to the perfect candidate. Koenma - way too busy, she doubted he’d want to just hold her tonight. Yusuke - taken, and lazy, and Keiko would be out for his blood tomorrow anyway. He probably was already sweating it out from having gotten into an argument with her. Kuwabara - honestly, he’d probably take it the wrong way, he had been interested in her when they met, but now he was also already taken, even if Yukina hadn’t really claimed him as much as he had her. She wouldn’t violate anyone’s claim. That left two. Botan sighed, hoping one would work. Kurama - ...she had...no objections. He probably wouldn’t mind, he was understanding, and he’d keep quiet about her weakness in front of the others. All added up to the perfect combination. Nodding, Botan waltzed off, singing a nonsense tune as she made her way upstairs again.

At the other end of the bar, a red head was watching his friend, faintly amused. Seemed Botan had come out by herself for the party and found more than she bargained for. But she’d been safe, mostly because word had gotten round that she was under the protection of one ‘Youko Kurama.’ The demons left her alone when they heard that. The stumbling steps made Kurama smile wryly. Drunk. It seemed whatever she had ordered was stronger than what she was used to. Still, she could probably make it to her room alright, and Shizuru would know how to handle a drunk. She’d be fine. He turned back to the bar and took another sip of his light brandy.

--

Stepping out of the elevator, Botan giggled to herself again. She wasn’t quite sure what was so funny, maybe what Kurama’s expression would be when she made her request, maybe the color of the hallway in general, but she marched with swinging arms down to the room she knew he kept. Glancing up at the number, she let out an exclamation congratulating herself, then cheerfully knocked on the door in an unsteady pattern.

There was no response.

Frowning, Botan tried again, then jiggled the door knob. Without further ado, the door opened, revealing a dark room. In one bed, off to the side, a dark form was already lying, breathing evenly. Holding back another giggle as she tried to respect her friend’s slumber, she shut the door again quietly. Luckily the light from the hallway hadn’t touched the bed. Waiting until her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Botan focused in on the bed. ‘I’ll just surprise him,’ she thought, quite reasonably in her opinion. Kurama was always one up for a good joke now and then. She was sure he wouldn’t mind.

Slowly, she crept over to the bed, removing her shoes along the way, along with her socks. No reason to make Kurama’s bed dirty, right? She also took off her jacket. As he was going to be holding her, it’d probably be too warm. Wearing just a tank top and a pair of pants now, she lifted the sheets. Muffling another irrational giggle, she slowly slid into the bed, easing her weight down onto it. Settling in and growing comfortable with the feel of a body next to her, Botan turned on her side and reached out blindly into the dark. Her fingers touched the other person, their body turned away from her, and began sliding around without purpose as she scooted closer.

--

At the same time, Hiei was dreaming. While he normally just dozed, it had been a rough fight today, more than he would like to admit, and this bed was blissfully comfortable. It was no surprise that he had nodded off and started reaching his deepest sleep at only about ten o’clock at night.

In his dream, he was running. Running towards a fight he knew was up ahead. He couldn’t say how he knew, he just did, and in dream reality, that was good enough. Smirking tightly, he rushed forward, the katana flashing into his hand. All around him, the wind was rushing. It felt great, pulling, giving that slight resistance against his clothes, swirling through his hair. It was warm, lovely. Whistling through his ears in such a beautiful melody. He couldn’t begin to describe it.

But slowly, the dream began to break down. The wind, Hiei realized, was not usually warm. Nor did it roam his body in such an uneven fashion. The light touches went lower and the frown deepened. It definitely did not touch there! Eyes began to scrunch as what seemed to be a very strong gust of wind wrapped around his waist and drew him backwards against a breathing wall. This dream was getting out of hand. Slowly, his hand moved down to grasp the gust on his middle, and the palm hit something it should not have.

Flesh.

Someone was holding on to him. Which meant - someone was in the bed with him.

Halting with realization, Hiei’s eyes flew open. Soft nuzzling sounds came louder as the arms around his waist drew him tighter in, as if sensing his change in awareness. Lying very still, Hiei chanced a look behind him, and saw with some relief and annoyance that it was a person with blue hair. Only Botan. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, strange ferry woman, but she needed to let go of him. He began trying to pry at the hands wrapped around him.

The unintelligible murmuring slowly resolved itself into words behind him. “Mm, don’t.” Her voice was pleading, tiny, as she struggled to keep herself in place and buried her head in his shoulder. “I need to hold someone. I need to forget.” The voice trailed off as she must have dropped into slumber again for a moment. Her arms became dead weight.

“Baka onna, you need to let go!” he hissed back, not wanting to hurt her while she was obviously out of it, but not really liking the situation he had found himself in. There was no response and he tried uselessly to remove her himself. Finally, he nudged a shoulder back, hoping to wake her up. “Let go!” he repeated.

Botan winced slightly at the rude awakening. She caught on to his last words. Kurama was fighting. Obviously she needed to explain it to him. He’d be more reasonable after that. “I can’t,” she mumbled, forcing her eyes open more and her mind into a more alert state. “They said I needed to stay the whole night.” She levered her weight onto her knees as he struggled further. She frowned as she slowly crawled over him, to face him. “And they said something about you scratching an itch for me.” The demon in bed froze, eyes flying wide.

“What?!” His voice was a strangled hiss.

She used his hesitance to her advantage, to place herself against his chest. “Yeah. Mm.” She settled in, her arms becoming permanent once more. “Please don’t let me go.”

Hiei was twitching slightly. “Onna! Get off! I’m not sleeping with you!”

Listening to the words forming in his chest, Botan frowned. Kurama sure was excitable tonight. Thinking back to what happened in the bar, she tried to come up with a way to cut of his complaints. As the next tirade started, she lifted her head, vaguely remembering Junsuke’s last action.

“Argh! I’m not putting up with this! Get off or I’ll-!”

Words cut off and eyes widened to see Botan right in front of him. That wasn’t the only thing that halted the yelling, however. Soft, tender lips were kissing him gently. He lay there, in shock for a moment, before the lips made a small sound of need and opened slightly. The feeling of her breath hitting his mouth so closely made his own lips open in reflex of surprise and she quickly moved in, killing him before he knew that he was even alive.

Her tongue swept out, licking experimentally. Unwillingly, he moaned. She naive but delicious. Honey, all forms of honey wrapped up into that single taste. It slowly came to him as she explored, unaware of what she was starting. Honey. Kuso. It was demon mead. The baka ferry onna was drunk.

Trying to think past this strange feeling, one he was beginning to enjoy, Hiei roughly flipped her over. With effort, he tore his mouth from hers. “Onna, stop it. Come on, wake up. You need to go back to your own bed. Get lots of sleep, let this stuff wear off.”

“What?” Botan asked, dazed. She was frowning as she stared up at the demon on top of her. Red eyes. Black hair. Short. This wasn’t Kurama. Her eyes drooped slightly. But that didn’t matter. Hiei made an even better replacement it seemed. “No, they were quite...” she trailed off, trying to regain her train of thought as she leaned up to start kissing him along the jaw. She finally caught it. “...quite insistent that I had to stay for the night.” Mm, it felt good, to be kissing him, this cold hearted demon with flesh of fire, his skin wide open to her affections, but she leaned back to frown thoughtfully up at him. “They said I was supposed to be itchy as well. I don’t understand, Hiei, am I itchy?”

He groaned as she was unable to resist and began working on his neck. “Like a pack of dogs with fleas,” he ground out around clenched teeth. Leaning back, he snatched her wandering hands, pulled them down her chest to her stomach, and ignored her bright “that much, huh?” in favor of staring hard down at her. “Why the hell are you doing this, onna?”

She shivered, not really paying attention anymore. “They said I could forget the bad stuff that was going on here. That I could forget all the deaths.” She was concentrating on their hands, moving them around as she wiggled slightly.

With irritation, he tried to still them. A grim reaper and repelled by death, what a combination. He understood her motivation now though, now just one more question. Which shieiji had taught her this nonsense? Thank goodness she had chosen him and not some stranger. That would not have ended well for either of them, as Botan would be devastated when she learned what happened, and the other man probably in pieces when the rest of the Reikai Tentei learned what happened. “Botan,” he started slowly, wanting the answer very much so he could go out and kill somebody, “who told you about this?” When no answer came immediately, he frowned and leaned into her. “Come on, onna, you can tell me.” Barbeque was sounding good tonight.

The relaxation gave her all the movement she needed. Quickly, Botan brought her hands up, underneath her shirt, dragging his with her. When she reached her target, she pressed his hand down and leaned up into it. “Ah, Hiei, this felt good.” Her voice was an appreciative whisper as she repeated the gesture he had thoughtlessly committed while tugging her hands down.

Fingers twitched on her breast, eliciting a strangled sigh of delight out of her, before he could catch a hold of himself and remove it. Her own two hands kept a desperate grip on his one, even managing to slide a few fingers of his beneath her bra, causing her to arch higher, her hips pressing into his above her. “Is this what it means to be itchy?” She asked breathlessly, opening her eyes to look into his shocked and slightly dazed ones. “Because I want to be really itchy.”

“Hn. I think you should stop-” Hiei’s voice was shaky, air coming in shorter gasps as he felt her chest heave. Her heartbeat fell right below his palm, and that small bump his fingers were trying so desperately not to stroke was calling out to him.

Once more, the digits moved, and through half lidded eyes she spared one hand to reach up and drag his face down to hers. “And it feels like you’re scratching me. A good kind of scratch.” She began to shower kisses across his face in thanks before her back strength gave out on her and her head fell onto the bed again, arm bringing him down with her. Her mouth was next to his ear as she spoke huskily into it, faint exhaustion adding that timbre. “Scratch it. I want you to scratch it for me.”

He didn’t move, barely breathing as he felt all this. She was offering all of this to him. Those hips did not lie.

“Hiei, please.” Demanding it of him, really. His position, already crumbling, toppled into the sea. She was winning this struggle easily, painlessly. The palm squeezed gently as he covered her surprised squeal of delight with a swift mouth. After a moment adjusting to his dominance of their kiss, she began to participate as well, softening around the edges, adding tenderness and that faint lick of overwhelming desire to his more brutal tactics. The hand on her breast moved as it traveled around to her back, searching for the catch of her underwear. That elastic was annoying him to no end and he wanted it off, now, so he didn’t have to work around it.

Growling emerged as he was unable to find it, and finally he just used his claws to snap the material, resulting in a brief outcry from Botan that she quickly forgot as his hand returned freely to her chest, massaging and gently rubbing things to excitement. She shivered, then leaned further into him, pushing him to sit up and take her with him.

The arm wrapped around her waist as he rose, frowning at her. Not bothering to respond verbally, Botan began tugging the shirt out of it’s tucked position in his pants. After a moment, it joined her socks and jacket on the floor, as well as the bra she removed to get rid of the now useless material.

“Something you wanted with that?” he asked blandly as she stared at it for a while on the floor.

“Hm?” Her mind had been drifting, contemplating how well that shirt hid things. “Oh. No.” She turned back, leaning forward to drop her head to his chest. It hid things like this. Hiei was extremely well built and her mind was smoldering at the thought. Her fingers appreciated it as her mouth trailed, leaving slightly wet lines behind that caused his skin to tremble slightly from the sensation and to reach down a hand and catch her chin. He claimed her lips again with his as her hands continued moving, sweeping down his chest like butterflies, then lower, to the abdomen like petals, and lower, to the waist, and lower. His kiss stilled as she stroked him there, innocently, not realizing what she was doing. Not realizing what exactly that was in relation to how much he wanted her. That number, percentage, already high, shot through the roof as he quickly jerked back and snatched her hands away from him.

Hiei’s breathing was heavy. “Onna... don’t even go there!”

Botan’s head tilted to the side as she blinked, the alcohol starting to make her vision heavy. “Why? I thought that was the place most men wanted to go.”

He cursed lightly for forgetting that she wasn’t always quite as naive as she pulled off. Of course she would know about that. A quick grip stilled her fingers from their effort for a return journey. There was one very important thing stopping him here. She may have wanted it, demanded it from him, the hips didn’t lie, quite honestly, and he may have wanted to take her in return, but she was a woman drunk off her ass. The mead was messing with her perception, and though she did convince him to at least take some pleasure out of what she was giving and definitely give it back to her in return, he was not going to cross that line with her when she couldn’t even properly tell him no.

Sighing, he shook his head, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Why did you come here in the first place, onna?”

“I thought I told you that,” she replied, looking confused. “They said I needed-”

He cut her off, getting slightly annoyed that she wasn’t getting his meaning. “When you came into this room, did you intend to do this with me?”

Botan blinked, then slowly shook her head in the negative. Hiei turned his face away, satisfied that she had finally understood, but with a vague feeling of disappointment. Her next words had him freezing into stillness, however. “I think I came in originally to see Kurama and-”

“Kurama?” he repeated faintly, eyes glued to the ground, then darkening. The kitsune, huh?

“Um, yes, but he wasn’t...” She trailed off as there was a rush of air from the bed.

Dark, bleak, self-mocking chuckles broke out from across the room. Kurama. She had come in for Kurama to sleep with, to “scratch that itch.” The woman who had just succeeded where many had failed, pushing his self control to the limit and slightly beyond at points, didn’t even want him. Her kisses were honeyed lies and her fingers, traitors. A shadowed green jealousy pulsed around him. Kurama. The kitsune was the object of her affections, those sweet words for him, the light touches all for his pleasure. Never before had Hiei wanted so badly to take another’s place. It rose, spiteful in him. “Hn, onna, what did you want him to do to you?”

Her thoughts faltered at his tone. There was something there, dangerous, and it sent shivers up her spine. “I - I wanted him to hold me, and...” She lost her breath as he began to stalk closer, sizing her up the way a cat does a smaller animal, a toy. “...a-and... I ...and I...”

Hiei stood right in front of her, his chest velvety in the darkness but his eyes diamond sharp. “And?” he prompted. No humor coated his question this time. It was all that something else, that dangerous something else.

“S-spend the night?” Botan’s voice was tiny, a question, near inaudible as she watched him with trepidation.

It wasn’t a long wait. Swift, restraining arms grabbed her shoulders as he jerked her slightly off the bed, moving up so that she was even with him. “You wanted Kurama to... ‘spend the night.’” His tone was full of disgust and anger. The arms moved decisively, crushing her possessively against his chest, and the words he spoke were slightly ominous but full of promise. “Can Kurama do this to you?”

Lips were smashing down on her own, pushing them back harshly in less than a second. He forced her mouth open easily, staking his claim on that sweetened taste, taking it, plundering it. One arm kept her firmly in place, but the other trailed off, shoving itself up her shirt and latching onto a breast. She couldn’t stop the moan at the feeling. He was stealing her breath away, and her mind was fuzzing into an unrecognizable mass. The fever was raging out of control as he released her air deprived mouth, leaving her gasping into his hair.

What was this sensation? When he kissed her it was euphoria, touched her, the gates of Valhalla, and when he held her to him, it was if she was never going to be let go, kept safe from everything that frightened her. This was more than she had been seeking earlier, this unrestrained passion, this desire, and the strong undercurrents of possessiveness and caring, this mixture was sending her into a strange form of bliss. She was valued, needed. He wanted her.

He was panting as well. Self possession hanging by a narrow ribbon. Growling resumed in healthy satisfaction, the low rumble vibrating against her from his chest, as he moved in again.

Botan’s mouth flew open in silent shock as the tank top was suddenly forced up, pulling slightly at her underarms and bunched under her chin. He yanked her off the bed to stand in front of him, and small whimpers escaped her throat as his face glided over her stomach. He was savoring this, the softness of her skin, the pliability compared to his own work roughened appearance. Purpose came as his kisses began following the center of her rib cage, trailing up from her navel and moving until he hit the material at the top of her chest.

Skin shivered as she moaned, trying to evoke pity, a plea to satisfy... something. He was almost there, but he had missed it, left her wanting, yearning, and she needed him to go back and finish. Smirking faintly, thoughts in flames, Hiei reached out, knowing what she wanted. His hands pulled her hips flush against his as he moved against her in some unholy rhythm, and his head moved closer to the skin still exposed near eye level. A tongue, gentler than anything he had done to her before, tenderly swept out and lapped at that small natural bump on her breast. She was not copiously endowed, but she was more than enough for him.

A small yell met his ears, causing him to move closer, as he touched her. Blindly her hands reached up and pushed him in, her back arching in wonder. Her body was scorching, burning. Anywhere he touched was a wildfire, that area between her legs, that his rhythm was temptingly teasing, an inferno, and her breasts had turned into some sort of ungodly shrines for the fire demon. She hissed as he switched his affections to the other one, and it received similar treatment.

Seconds later he had pushed himself away, breathing heavily as he watched her, pants rumpled, tank top slipping slightly but catching on the rise of her cleavage. Savagely, he stamped out the coil that was forming in his stomach and stepped closer to her, watching her pink eyes gazing at him with clouded lust and... was that affection? He felt like snarling. For Kurama, no doubt. That sight succeeded in granting him back control.

“Can he?” Hiei spit out, returning to their previous conversation and remaining barely inches from her face. “Tell me, onna, can he do that to you?”

A lick of fear entered her expression, but growing exponentially in comparison were the evident wants on her face. Slowly, Botan shook her head, denying it, her hands coming up. “No. Hiei,” a deadly whisper, “I want... you... to-”

Hands pushed her own away as if they were snakes. Arms moved down to her side and the shirt ripped back down quickly, covering her up. “No, onna. You’re drunk and you’ve got no clue what you’re doing. And you don’t want me,” he chided bitterly. “Go to bed, sleep it off. You can have mine since I’m leaving.” He pushed her back over to the bed and insured that she sat down. Disappearing as he morphed into a new location speedily, Botan found his form next gathering up his shirt and throwing it back on, then looking at her clothes and stuffing the ripped bra into a sock to “hide the evidence” of his impatient desire.

“Where are you going?” Her voice came out heavy, succumbing to the alcohol and passion filled evening.

Hiei’s reply was short. “Out. Go to bed. If you’re still awake when Kurama comes in, you can have him. Just leave me out of it!” The socks were tossed to the end of the bed and the sandals straightened on the floor with jerky movements. Loud footsteps fell as he paced over to the door and yanked it open. A final glare was sent in Botan’s direction, light from the hallway illuminating his features in painful clarity, as he stepped out and slammed the barrier behind him.

On the bed, the ferry girl slowly sighed, shivering with unfulfilled need, but laying back down as the effects from the mead took full control. The last thought she had before drifting off into a comatose sleep was “Hiei... is very, very hot.”

--

It was almost an hour later when the kitsune downstairs decided he had had enough of the night life. Smiling at the bartender and paying his short bill, including Botan’s drink, he thanked the demon for being nice to his wandering friend then rose from the chair. Knowing his limits, Kurama was functioning off only that light buzz behind the ears instead of the drunken state the ferry girl had entered. He left the area calmly, returning to the elevators and rising to his floor. It was only when he was roughly ten feet away that he noticed something odd.

There, leaning against the door, head down but obviously awake, Hiei sat, as if guarding the room. His face twitched slightly as he heard the footsteps, then rose to look up at Kurama. “Hn. I’m surprised you didn’t come back earlier.” The eyes were glaring, absolutely trying to run him through on the spot.

Kurama blinked. “Nani? I thought I told you I was going out. You were supposed to leave the door open for me so I didn’t wake you when I came back.” Taking a glance at the door, the kitsune gave a wry sigh. “You locked yourself out, didn’t you?”

“Ursai,” Hiei responded derisively. The glare didn’t lessen, only got worse. “I didn’t. I had a... visitor.” At Kurama’s blank stare, Hiei growled. “The baka ferry onna showed up, drunk, looking for you.” He was a massive load of tinder, waiting for the right spark of jealousy to shoot him off into rage.

Unknowingly, the kitsune easily complied. He winced. “Oh, sorry, I’m afraid I bought her the drink while I was - Hiei?! Oophf!”

The koorime had leapt, pinning the fox demon to the ground as he turned evil eyes onto him unmercifully. The katana, still sheathed, pressed tightly against the red head’s throat. “If you illusion her again like this I will not hesitate in killing you.” He didn’t know if Kurama was the one who had told her the lies, and the back of his head was insisting that he probably hadn’t, but the fox was the one she had wanted over him, and was a suitable target. The katana pressed more firmly. “I will not tolerate you stealing things from me.” A final push and he was up, letting Kurama recover as he looked at Hiei with wildly questioning eyes and began rubbing his throat.

“‘Stealing’? What’s going on, Hiei? I’m pretty sure I didn’t do anything deserving of this.”

The fire demon growled, hand tightening on his weapon. “She’s on the bed, shieiji. Go on, take your prize, she was waiting, but if you gloat about it to me, I will kill you.” Threat delivered, he sprinted off, vanishing instantly into the night.

Watching after him, Kurama could only sigh as he turned to enter the room, spotting a softly snoring figure on the far bed and shaking his head in faint amusement. She must have given Hiei a hell of a time for him to be this freaked out. Deciding to worry about it later, Kurama shut the door, then retreated to his own bed.

- Reikai -

Pink eyes reflected in the mirror, going dreamy again. She wasn’t sure how it happened, what started it, but that was the night she began looking at Hiei in a whole new way, the night he had taken her closer to heaven than she’d ever been before, even with her job as a ferry girl. She shivered as she remembered the touch, the feel, the sight of him, watching her carefully with his fiery eyes. She cursed quietly but couldn’t stop. She was becoming obsessed with this half-koorime.

The next morning, she had determined that she must have been intoxicated with more than just his presence. Kurama had told her quite clearly upon seeing her awake and confused to be in a different bed than her own, that she had gotten drunk the night before. Hearing that, and smelling the faint hints of wood around her, everything had rushed back, fuzzy, but still there. It wasn’t easy getting out of that mess. Keiko had yelled at her for disappearing, worried during the night, and it was only by Kurama’s quick thinking that she found an excuse. Unfortunately, it involved telling Koenma the truth about what happened, or at least the truth about getting drunk, and in exchange for laughing himself silly over it, he agreed to verify her story that she had been called away to ferry another soul at the last minute.

And so her midnight escapade was kept mostly a secret. Except, perhaps, from Kurama, whose eyes had widened slightly upon spotting her without a bra underneath her shirt when she sat up, and had faintly glimpsed the article of clothing tucked away in her sock as she quickly gathered everything up and wrapped her jacket around herself.

But Hiei still knew, and so did she.

Staring for a moment more, Botan pushed away from the vanity with a curse. She wasn’t supposed to be obsessing over this! Most of the time she managed to distract herself even! It was just in the late night hours, the time of the event, that it all rushed over her, as fresh as day. Her thoughts wondered briefly, as she blew out the lamp and moved into her old bed. How would it feel to actually make it inside the gates of heaven?