In the Eye of the Beholder
folder
Yuyu Hakusho › Yaoi - Male/Male › Kurama/Kuwabara
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,109
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Yuyu Hakusho › Yaoi - Male/Male › Kurama/Kuwabara
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,109
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I claim no rights to Yu Yu Hakusho, nor any related characters or merchandise, and make no profit from the writing or distribution of this piece of fiction.
In the Eye of the Beholder
Kurama runs his tongue over one more upraised scar and marvels at the graceful shiver that ripples across Kuwabara's bare skin in response. He draws lingering touches over muscles taut with the strain of remaining still, drags his lips down the strong line of Kuwabara's jaw, and has to close his eyes at the sheer rightness of it all. His fingers, his lips, his tongue continue on without sight, exploring every inch of Kuwabara's skin, and only confirm what his overwhelmed eyes have already told him: his human lover is perfect, beautiful. He allows a soft moan to shatter the last of his calm mask, escaping his lips to ghost across the body below him, and eagerly drinks in the groan that echoes back. And with that, Kurama willingly abandons himself to sensation.
He knows that his near-obsession with Kuwabara leaves the human bewildered to no extent, but he just can't bring himself to care. There is an undeniable beauty in Kuwabara's hard, angled body - an elegance in his overwhelming masculinity - that Kurama cannot ever hope to match. It fascinates him, draws him ever deeper into its clutches, until he is mad with desire - until he wants nothing more than to touch, to taste, to drink in the sight of his human lover until his vision blurs from strain.
His own name moaned in a breathy exhalation is all the warning he gets before Kuwabara suddenly surges upward and reverses their positions, one strong hand darting between Kurama's spread thighs. Calloused fingers slip swiftly in and out of his body in a preparation that is still gentle for all its haste, and then Kuwabara is sliding into him, and this - this - is what Kurama wants. Because if Kuwabara was beautiful before, he is completely beyond description now: his lightly flushed skin dusted with a fine sheen of sweat, his gaze warm and hungry as he rolls his hips against Kurama's. He leans forward to bury his face against Kurama's neck - as he always does - embarrassed by the attention he feels is undeserved.
Kurama, though, just slides his arms across broad shoulders, wraps his slim legs around sturdy hips, and lets himself feel. Urging his lover on with murmured words, he revels in the play of hardened muscles under his fingertips, the piston of hips into his body. He can feel Kuwabara breathing steadily against his skin, and even these gentle gasps are flawless: short, sharp, and sweet, hitching slightly as his thrusts come faster, harder.
And when Kuwabara groans against him and draws the skin above his pulse point between blunt teeth - forgetting his attempts to be gentle - Kurama knows he is lost. He is marked, claimed, possessed - willingly, always willingly - by this incredible human, and his back arches with the sheer force of his ecstasy. Kuwabara gathers him in powerful arms and holds him close as his body trembles, never loosening his hold, even as he draws them beneath the sheets when the shivers subside.
"I don't understand you at all," Kuwabara sighs bemusedly after a long moment, his breath ruffling Kurama's long hair. But Kurama just smiles and curls closer, sleepy and sated and perfectly satisfied.
He knows that his near-obsession with Kuwabara leaves the human bewildered to no extent, but he just can't bring himself to care. There is an undeniable beauty in Kuwabara's hard, angled body - an elegance in his overwhelming masculinity - that Kurama cannot ever hope to match. It fascinates him, draws him ever deeper into its clutches, until he is mad with desire - until he wants nothing more than to touch, to taste, to drink in the sight of his human lover until his vision blurs from strain.
His own name moaned in a breathy exhalation is all the warning he gets before Kuwabara suddenly surges upward and reverses their positions, one strong hand darting between Kurama's spread thighs. Calloused fingers slip swiftly in and out of his body in a preparation that is still gentle for all its haste, and then Kuwabara is sliding into him, and this - this - is what Kurama wants. Because if Kuwabara was beautiful before, he is completely beyond description now: his lightly flushed skin dusted with a fine sheen of sweat, his gaze warm and hungry as he rolls his hips against Kurama's. He leans forward to bury his face against Kurama's neck - as he always does - embarrassed by the attention he feels is undeserved.
Kurama, though, just slides his arms across broad shoulders, wraps his slim legs around sturdy hips, and lets himself feel. Urging his lover on with murmured words, he revels in the play of hardened muscles under his fingertips, the piston of hips into his body. He can feel Kuwabara breathing steadily against his skin, and even these gentle gasps are flawless: short, sharp, and sweet, hitching slightly as his thrusts come faster, harder.
And when Kuwabara groans against him and draws the skin above his pulse point between blunt teeth - forgetting his attempts to be gentle - Kurama knows he is lost. He is marked, claimed, possessed - willingly, always willingly - by this incredible human, and his back arches with the sheer force of his ecstasy. Kuwabara gathers him in powerful arms and holds him close as his body trembles, never loosening his hold, even as he draws them beneath the sheets when the shivers subside.
"I don't understand you at all," Kuwabara sighs bemusedly after a long moment, his breath ruffling Kurama's long hair. But Kurama just smiles and curls closer, sleepy and sated and perfectly satisfied.