Archive of Our Own

The local café is always packed. Usually, Yusuke doesn't mind– it was pretty much a given, considering the place is right next to both the university and a train station. But today, he has to stop himself from scanning the crowd every time someone walks by, looking for the guy he’s supposed to be meeting here. Wondering if the next person to walk in is him.

A slightly crumpled paper next to his coffee cup declares 'SEEKING HOUSEMATE NEAR UNIVERSITY' in bold. Yusuke had ripped it off the café bulletin board right before booking it to class the day before, making a mental note to look at the flier later.

Of course, he forgot all about it after four or so hours of lectures, coursework, and scribbling due dates into his notebooks. School was never really Yusuke's strong suit, alright? At least he was going now.

The next day, the flier had been replaced.

People put up listings for roommates all the time around here. This was the closest coffeeshop to campus, after all. Postings decorated with colorful borders, photos and art littered the bulletin board, all vying for attention, trying to show some personality to potential callers.

What stood out about this ad, by contrast, was just how little it tried to catch the eye. Plain black text on printer paper, as dry as a newspaper classified. Red flag number one.

Red flag number two– and what had really gotten Yusuke's attention– was the listed price. It was well below the average for rent in this area, even for a shared room. But no, this was for a private room and bath. In a house.

He skims over the details again as he waits. 'M/24, seeking housemate in _____ neighborhood. Train and bus station fifteen minutes away by foot. Men or women welcome, but overnight/shift workers preferred. No pets & no smoking.'

Whoever had written the flier might as well have put a picture of a red flag while they were at it. One dude living alone in a house, offering next to nothing for rent and asking for overnight employees? It was sketchy as hell.

…So obviously, Yusuke sent the number a text.

The way he figured it, if the whole thing did turn out to be a setup, he could defend himself just fine. If not…maybe this was a lucky break. Gods knew he was due for some good luck, after all the bad karma kept throwing at him.

Yusuke looks up automatically when he hears the bell above the door chime. The poster had called him back a few hours after his text, and the polite alto voice on the other line hadn't  exactly sounded like a serial killer. Not that he had much of a baseline to compare, but whatever.

Point was the dude didn't give off weird vibes over the phone. And he'd suggested a public venue to meet up and talk.

The man who just walked in steps off to one side, scanning the crowd like he's looking for someone. Yusuke sits up straighter and gives a little wave when he sees the long, shockingly red hair– an identifier from their call. Yeah, I'd definitely be able to spot that color just about anywhere.

Green eyes land on him, and the redhead brightens before making his way over. Even if he didn't have such a unique hair color, Yusuke thinks he'd still stand out on looks alone. Damn.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting," the man greets, and yep– that's the same soft-spoken voice from before. "Are you Mr. Urameshi?"

"Yusuke's fine," he corrects, clearing his throat. Fuck, he wasn't expecting the guy to be hot.

The redhead smiles as he starts shedding his jacket, revealing a lean, broad-shouldered frame clad in a navy sweater. "If you insist. I'm Minamino Shuichi, but my friends call me Kurama. …Excuse me a moment," he nods, putting his coat over the chair and heading up to the counter to order.

Yusuke pulls it together in the time it takes the guy– Kurama– to return. Focus, dumbass. He could still be a weirdo. Looks don't mean shit. Speaking of which, his roommate asked him to text after he met up with the guy.

Y: the guy who posted the ad showed up

Y: his name’s Minamino

Y: doesnt seem like a weirdo so far

"So, Yusuke. Are you a student?"

He looks up as Kurama's setting a mug and saucer on the table. "Uh, yeah. Culinary," Yusuke nods, tapping 'Send' and pocketing his phone. "You?"

"Really? You'll have to wow me with your prowess in the kitchen sometime," the redhead smiles around his tea, and Yusuke's eyes are drawn to the bow of his lips, pretty and full.

"Naaahhh, I'm not that good," he deflects with a grin. "I make a mean bowl of ramen now and then, I guess."

"Come now, don't be modest,” Kurama goads. “If this ends up working out, you're welcome to use the kitchen whenever you like.”

“Alright, but don’t expect anything fancy from me,” he relents.

“Naturally. So, do you have any pets?”

Yusuke shakes his head– then remembers the other stipulation from the flier. "Oh, but I do smoke. I don't mind going outside, though. Could prolly use the fresh air anyway."

Kurama looks contemplative for a moment or so, during which Yusuke realizes he's already hoping his bad habit won't be a total deal-breaker. Stoooooop. "So long as you do, I suppose I don't mind," he concludes. "We all have our vices, after all."

"Yeah? What're yours?"

The redhead looks pleasantly surprised. Obviously, he wasn't expecting the remark to be turned around to him. "Hmm, my vices… I suppose it isn't much of one, but I am fond of coffee and tea," he offers, tentative.

Yusuke flaps a hand and feigns boredom. "Laaaaaame. C'mon, a guy like you? You must be out every weekend, partying and picking up chicks," he weedles, hoping the question between the lines doesn't come off too strong. Kurama's as pretty as a girl, and the way he carries himself…

Not to stereotype, but Yusuke likes to think he has a pretty good gaydar. He is bi, after all.

The redhead laughs at the suggestion. "Hardly. Although I could say the same about you." Emerald eyes sparkle with a bit of mischief as he gives Yusuke a covert up-down. "You probably have to pry the masses off with a crowbar, no?"

It's not the first time someone's hit on him– hell, it's not even the smoothest come-on Yusuke's received– but he feels his cheeks tingle faintly all the same. "Well, maybe not a crowbar,” he smooths his hair back, leaning an elbow on the table. “Most people head for the hills when they find out I work overnights right now. Can't exactly go out between classes, work, and trying not to fuck up my sleep schedule too much."

Kurama perks up. "Do you, now? I keep odd hours myself, so I can relate. This seems like a good match– if it's not too forward of me to say," he adds, realizing how forward the statement sounds.

Yusuke starts nodding along before he's even finished…but then it clicks that the redhead's talking about being roommates. Not. Well.

Simmer down, dumbass. He clears his throat and looks at the flier. "Yeah, so uh. About that…"

Kurama sets his tea down, sensing the shift in conversation. "Oh, pardon me. You must have some questions as well."

Come to mention it, Yusuke has about fifty on the tip of his tongue– but none of them are exactly on-topic. Are you a model or something? Is that color natural? Are you seeing anyone right n– "S'alright,” he shrugs. “I uh, I've only ever lived with my Ma and a pal from school, so I'm not like. Super sure how this goes," he admits, scratching his cheek.

Kurama just chuckles. "That makes two of us. I've never had a housemate at all, so we will both be learning as we go."

"Oh, sweet.” That actually does make him feel a little better. Alright, let’s see. “So…the listed rent here–"

"–Is it too high? I'm willing to negotiate."

Yusuke blinks a couple of times. Is…is he for real?? He'd been half-convinced this guy was gonna be like, a panty-snatcher, or a serial killer trying to lure some unsuspecting schmuck back to his torture chamber.

Now he kinda feels concerned for Kurama, asking so little and then basically offering to go lower. Someone could take advantage so easily, jeez.

"No, no, it's not that. It's actually kinda…low? And I was gonna ask if there was a reason why," Yusuke hedges awkwardly, stomping down the voice in his head that’s yelling to shut up about the price before the redhead agrees with him and jacks it up.

Kurama just cocks his head. "Is it? Well, all the better for you I'd imagine,” he says with a warm smile, shrugging. A little sheepishly, he adds, “It felt strange, trying to name a price for a spare room.”

"…Yeah?"

"Mmm. I'm afraid it might be a bit dusty in there,” he admits, taking a sip of his tea. “Would you want to come out and have a look at the place, before you make a decision?"

…Now normally, Yusuke would have at least thought about it for more than two seconds. This dude seemed pretty alright– again, it wasn't like he had a baseline for 'sketchy creep'– but they'd also literally just met. Going to his house to scope the place out sounded like the opening to a murder mystery. Or a cheap horror flick.

But…well, Kurama's pretty, and nice, and seems like a decent guy. Rent that cheap didn't just come around every day, either.

…And. He's pretty.

"Yeah, sounds good," Yusuke nods amicably, pulling out his phone. "Let's trade numbers so we can keep in touch. I'm not on a deadline to move or anything, but sooner'd be better, y'know? …."

One month later…

The Minamino estate sits at the top of a hill, set back from the street a little. A wooden placard above the mail slot gleams with the family name– Yusuke had to squint for a couple minutes the first time he saw it, before he pieced together the kanji. Then he felt kinda dumb for not immediately recognizing it as his new housemate's surname.

Past the gates, a worn dirt path gradually gives way to paving stones leading to the porch steps. The house itself feels a little older than the others on this block; it's a two-story setup, with a wide porch and sloped roof. Kinda traditional looking, but not old old. Woodlands surround the property on three sides, adding to the impression that it’s been there for a long time.

The house itself is well-kept and in good repair, in spite of all that. Yusuke's allergies had flared something awful when he was getting his stuff moved in– but not from dust, turned out. It was just all the nature making him sneezy.

Yusuke’s sitting on the front porch, smoking and watching the sun come up, when he messages Kuwabara. He types and deletes, types and deletes a few times, eventually looking out at the woods with a scowl as he tries to figure out what to say.

It's peaceful out here in the pale light just before dawn. There's even a bit of mist rising from the ground, though it'll be gone the moment the sun gets over the horizon to burn it up.

Honestly? Yusuke had thought he'd hate it out here…but he actually thinks it's kinda nice. Now that his allergies've finally settled down, that is. They're tucked away from all the hustle and bustle of the city, but still close enough for him to not go completely stir-crazy.

A sudden rustling along the edge of the woods catches Yusuke’s attention. He follows the movement through the brush, blinking when he thinks he sees a quick flash of red amongst the foliage. No way…was that a fox tail? 

He stares out at the woods for a couple more minutes, brown eyes darting to any little movement, hoping for another glimpse. There’s plenty of squirrels and shit out here, but a fox? Yusuke doesn’t know if he’s ever seen one of those in real life, before.

A few minutes pass. The sun starts to peek over the horizon, streaks of light cutting through the trees, but all is quiet again. 'Ch. Prolly just a squirrel. Sighing, Yusuke takes a drag and goes back to mulling over his messenger app.

Kuwabara probably won’t be up for another hour or so, but he doesn’t expect a reply right away. He just…he needs to get some shit out of his head. Throw it out there, so maybe it’ll stop rattling around his skull. Texting his childhood rival/buddy/former roomie seems like the obvious choice.

What he ends up sending is:

Y: i think my housemates a vampire??

Yusuke purses his lips as he rereads the message a couple times. Okay…so he doesn’t actually think that. But then, he really doesn’t know what to think, either. There's no good explanation for the small (but growing) list of stuff he's noticed over the last month. Shit that seems innocent enough alone, but doesn't quite add up when he looks at it all together. The attractive, charming guy he met a month ago is…

Footsteps from inside the house draw Yusuke from his thoughts. A moment later, his housemate appears at the door. Yusuke sits up where he’s slouched on the steps, and offers a wave with the hand not currently holding a cigarette. “Mornin’.”

Kurama gives him a polite smile. He’s dressed for the day in slacks and a cream-colored sweater, crimson hair spilling over his shoulders. He looks like a model. Like always. “Good morning, Yusuke. How was work?”

“Eh. It was work,” he shrugs, taking a drag and turning to one side to exhale. The redhead had been firm about not smoking in the house (his house), and judging by the way he always maintained a certain distance when he was smoking, Yusuke figures the least he can do is not blow smoke at the guy. “You just get off?”

He’s expecting it when Kurama gives a non-committal hum. “I made too much curry again,” he says instead, neatly sidestepping the subject. “It’s on the top shelf in the fridge– please help yourself.”

“If you insist,” Yusuke tosses a grateful grin over his shoulder, which the redhead reciprocates before disappearing into the house once more.

…Speaking of small, inexplicable things. Yusuke still has no idea what his roommate even does for a living. He's never seen the guy coming or going, in a suit or a uniform or anything, and every time he brings it up Kurama carefully evades the topic. For all he knows the dude doesn’t have a job. He could just be living off the money he collects from renting. But then…why hide that?

It’s not like Yusuke would really give a shit if that were the case. Honestly, if Kurama was a NEET that got by on renting out his home, you think he’d at least charge more.

Glancing at his phone one more time, Yusuke drops his cigarette butt in an old water bottle by the steps and gets up. He should probably hit the hay– his first class starts at four.

There's no sign of the redhead as he steps inside, flips the lock, and heads upstairs– which is pretty typical. Kurama tended to keep to himself during the day, and Yusuke never saw him at night. Why was another mystery. If he worked nights, that was one thing– it'd explain the whole bit about wanting to find a roommate with an overnight job. Gods knew alone time had been one of the many points of friction between Yusuke and Kuwabara, when they’d been sharing a place.

Kurama also only answered messages during the day– but it was like he was allergic to text messaging. He either wouldn’t respond (if it was something trivial), or he’d call to give Yusuke an answer. Like a monster.

Kuwabara replies while Yusuke’s brushing his teeth, mirror still fogged up from taking a quick shower.

K: u mean MY roommate?

Yusuke snorts. Him and carrot top had parted on good terms after Yusuke found another place, a fact he was incredibly grateful for (even if he’d never, ever tell the big guy). Kuwabara had found a new roomie shortly after, too– by posting some ads of his own– and their friendship bounced back from the strain of trying to live together almost as fast.

He flops down on the bed, ruffling his hair with a towel.

Y: nah

Y: ur roomie is definitely one of the living dead

The typing notification appears and disappears several times after that– prolly Kuwabara waffling between defending the little weirdo or asking what's going on. He ends up going for a mix of the two.

K: hes not that bad when u get to know him

K: anyway whats up

Yusuke taps his fingers against the side of his phone.

Y: i dunno man it’s just weird

Y: i never see him leave the house but hes always gone when i get home

Y: and i never notice him coming back either

K: …and???

Y: u don’t think thats weird?

K : most ppl would kill to have a roommate they never see urameshi

K: y, u got the hots for him or something?

Yusuke feels his cheeks flushing and almost retaliates out loud. Just ‘cause Kuwa knew he was bi, he just had to tease him about it every chance he got.

Y: no!!!

Y: i mean he IS hot but I'm p sure hes not interested

Yusuke had tried to hit on Kurama a couple times after moving in– but every time he did, the redhead just ignored his come-ons or changed the subject. Then Yusuke wouldn’t see him for a day or so, until it was like nothing happened. It was like the cute, charming redhead he'd met that day was the guy’s twin brother or something.

The whole thing was weird, and frustrating, and made him feel really awkward– not least of all because he was pretty fucking sure Kurama had been the one flirting with him,  back when they first met. Yusuke's stomach sours at the thought that maybe he'd just gone along with it because he really, really wanted him to accept the offer and move in.

But saying any of that would just make it sound like he’s desperate. Yusuke could swear until his face was blue that Kurama was a different person now, but all anyone would hear was ‘I thought I was gonna get laid when I moved here, and now I’m put out because he’s not putting out.’

The ding of his phone drags Yusuke out of his increasingly negative train of thought.

K: like how ur sure hes a vampire too

Y: shut up

Y: ugh forget i said anything

He tosses the phone aside in frustration, wondering why he even bothered to bring it up. Kuwabara might've gotten his shit together a little faster than Yusuke, but that didn’t mean he was any smarter than he had been, back when they were beating the shit out of each other in middle school.

With the blackout curtains drawn, the room is comfortably dark to sleep through the day. Double-checking that the alarm is set and the notifications on Do Not Disturb, Yusuke puts his phone on the nightstand and hits the hay, willing his thoughts to shut up long enough for him to drift to sleep.

“So, hey… What’s the deal with your housemate? He’s not being weird, is he?”

Yusuke takes his time chewing and then swallowing before he answers. Technically, he thinks they're supposed to keep the chatter to a minimum in the student lounge so others can study in peace. But whatever.

He should have figured Kuwabara would bring it up again– he's a lot more suspicious about the whole thing than Yusuke probably ought to be. Guy has a protective streak bigger than he is, and that's saying something. “Nah. I mean…I dunno. I think I’m just being paranoid.”

“Doesn’t sound like you,” Kuwabara points out, raising an eyebrow. Yusuke nudges his leg none-too-gently under the table. “What? You never worry about nothin’, s’all I’m sayin’.”

"I worry about plenty!" Kuwabara just takes a bite of his sandwich and goes back to looking at his textbook, waiting him out until Yusuke sighs and continues. “It’s just…I know it’s totally normal for roommates to not be best buddies or whatever. I’m not upset about that. But he’s kinda…evasive?”

“Maybe he just likes his privacy,” Kuwabara offers.

“I guess. But it’s weird.” Carrot top makes a questioning noise around his food. “Like…whenever we’re both home, he always makes a point of saying hi to me. And he’s always making too much food and telling me I can help myself.” Yusuke waves a forkful of curry indicatively. “I know what spices he likes to cook with, but fuck if I know what the guy does for a living– or if he’s a student or a trust fund baby or what. He's like a total mystery.”

His good-for-nothing friend snorts and shakes his head, picking up an eraser. “You’re thinking too much. I still say it’s ‘cause you’re into him.”

“Jealous much?”

“Hell no!”

“Oh yeah?" Yusuke grins, seizing the change of subject. "What, you jonesin’ for someone else already? I only moved a month ago, Kuwa, let the sheets cool off–” he cuts off with a yelp as the eraser flies past his head. The handful of other students in the lounge give them dirty looks as they start to bicker and rough house like old times, and Yusuke forgets his misgivings.

After class, it’s off to work. It’s hard to guess what his shifts at the restaurant will be like– well, sorta. It's a given that the place’ll be packed on the weekends. Still, since Yusuke works the overnight shift at a 24-hour joint, he never quite knows what the late late night will bring.

Sometimes it’s painfully slow– to the point that his sleepy-eyed manager lets him get out his books and do his schoolwork in a booth. Sometimes they get groups of drunk salarymen, fresh out of karaoke and not quite ready to end the night.

Today's the former; the last order Yusuke filled had been at the tail end of the dinner ‘rush’, over two hours ago. Mr. Nishimura waved him off to go do his homework after he finished scrubbing the counters (twice), but at this rate Yusuke might just run out of homework to keep himself occupied.

He twirls his pencil as he considers the door to the office, partly ajar to listen for customers. At the start, he'd thought (maybe naively) that getting this gig would be awesome for his culinary degree. It's not like it isn't– he's working with and preparing food in a restaurant setting, after all– but neither is it the sort of opportunity he had been thinking. The overnight manager's fine, but he's no chef.

Minutes tick by like molasses. While Yusuke's going over his answers again, just to kill a little more time, Mr. Nishimura pokes his head out of the office. "Urameshi, you can head home if you've finished your sidework. The openers will be here soon."

Yusuke glances automatically at the clock. Soon is like an hour from now. It's early, but… it's not like he's totally strapped for cash. And it has been dead all night.

"If you're sure," he replies awkwardly, not wanting to sound too eager to ditch. Nishimura gives a dismissive wave before disappearing back into the office.

"Just make sure to take the trash out with you. Have a good night, Urameshi."

Welp, no need to tell him twice. Yusuke sweeps his stuff into his bag, tosses his apron in the bin after double-checking that everything's ready for the opening shift, and hefts the trash over his shoulder to head out the back.

The crisp chill of early morning greets him as soon as the door closes, making Yusuke shiver as he chucks the garbage and starts heading up the road from the backstreet. It's too early for public transit, so he'll have to walk– which is something he hadn't so much as thought about while he was getting his shit together to leave. That shift numbs his mind, sometimes.

Oh well. It's not that far.

Hell, maybe Kurama’ll be around. The thought makes him walk a little faster, feet a little lighter in his ratty sneakers. He’d thought that living with someone who also ‘kept odd hours’ (as Kurama put it) would mean they’d have more overlap in their daily lives, but Yusuke only really sees the guy now and then. Mostly in passing. It’s not like he’s lonely, but it’d be nice to just– have a conversation sometimes. Or something.

The charming man Yusuke had felt almost an instant click with at the café feels more like a different person with each passing day. Each time he comes home to a silent house and an avoidant (if polite) acquaintance.

There’ve been a handful of times when he felt like he was seeing the Kurama he met that day. Times he tries not to clutch to his chest like they’re rare, precious gems– but it’s hard not to, when all he has otherwise is lingering disappointment and silence.

The most memorable of those occasions had to be when Yusuke came across his housemate digging in the garden outside.

"Oh, good morning, Yusuke."

Yusuke jerks his head up as he's addressed. He'd stepped out onto the porch for a smoke before getting ready for work, figuring his new roommate was either asleep or out.

Well, he is out of the house.

"Hey! What's up?" he greets, wandering across the porch. "Also, it's like five in the afternoon."

"But it's morning for you, is it not?" Kurama replies amusedly.

Yusuke stumbles a little when he sees the redhead. He's sitting on the ground, a pile of what looks like…turnips? next to him and a little garden shovel thingy in hand. That's not what has him tripping over his feet, though.

Green eyes flash at him from under an honest-to-gods straw hat as the redhead smiles up at Yusuke. He's wearing…a t-shirt. Not a sweater or a cardigan, just a faded tee. His arms are surprisingly well-toned.

A few seconds go by before Yusuke realizes he's staring. "Uh, yeah, I guess you're right," he says quickly, looking at what Kurama’s working on instead. "…Isn't it, like, way too late in the year for gardening?"

A chuckle. "There's always something to do. These bulbs are planted in the fall so they can establish themselves over the winter. They'll start sprouting once the frost melts."

So that's what the 'turnips' were. "Oh. Neat."

A beat passes. Kurama goes back to what he’s doing, and Yusuke leans his arms against the porch railing to watch– half out of interest in what his housemate's doing, and half out of interest in his housemate. "So… You like to garden?"

The redhead continues digging holes for the bulbs, but he nudges the brim of his hat with his wrist so he can see Yusuke as they talk. "I do. Mother tended to this and a few other plots around the yard. When I was old enough, I started helping her, and…well. I suppose I do like gardening, yes." He sounds wistful. Maybe a little sad.

Yusuke thinks of the pictures hung around the house, the small but well-tended family altar. In the center there's a photo of an older woman. She's smiling brightly at the camera, familiar even though he knows he's never met her.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Yusuke says uncertainly. Emotional stuff was never really his forte.

Kurama gives him a reassuring look as he pats the soil over the bulb he just planted. "It's alright. I'm sorry for bringing the mood down."

He takes a drag. "Psh, it's fine. It's cool you took up gardening as, like, a mother-son thing." His own Ma… Well, he did pick up a few things from her: smoking and gambling. Not exactly wholesome conversation material.

"What about you?" the redhead asks. For a second Yusuke thinks he's asking how him and his mother got on, but then he continues, "I know you're a culinary student. Is cooking a hobby?"

Oh thank fuck.

“…Yeah, I guess." He takes a last, long draw from his smoke and wanders back to the front to toss it, raising his voice a little as he goes. "Got tired of instant noodles and convenience store fare, so I started learning how to make shit myself. Then I just…kept doing it. It felt nice to make food for other people, stuff they really liked, y'know? So…I figure that's a decent enough start for a career."

Yusuke rubs the short hair at the back of his neck a little awkwardly. When he glances up, Kurama…

Kurama's beaming.

"I think that's wonderful. You seem passionate about it– that's important."

Yusuke feels his cheeks warming, so he turns to the side, fidgeting with his jacket now that he doesn't have a cigarette to occupy his hands. "I guess. I'm still learning."

"Don't be modest. I'm still excited to try your cooking, you know. You did promise." There's a teasing note in the redhead's voice.

Yusuke grins at him, back on surer footing. "Yeah, I remember. Soooo…whaddya want? I could make us dinner," he offers. Hopefully that isn't too forward.

"Hmmm. What about lunch, instead? Considering that we both keep unconventional schedules," Kurama reasons. But it isn’t a no.

"Sure," he agrees immediately, then realizes how eager he must sound. "Er, I mean– that's prolly smart. Think of something you want me to make sometime.”

It's definitely too cold for gardening now, but the idea of happening upon his roommate at home quickens Yusuke's pace all the same.

His fingers and nose are numb when he finally gets up the steps and pushes through the front door, teeth chattering in the silence. No sign of the redhead. Damn.

Note to self: grab scarf before heading out tomorrow. Yusuke’s woefully underprepared for winter, which's really nothing new. What is new is that he might actually be able to afford a hat and gloves this year. Hell– maybe even a winter coat. Wouldn't that be nice?

Grimacing as he toes off his shoes, Yusuke makes for the kitchen and the promise of instant hot cocoa in the pantry. Kurama didn't keep a notepad and pen in the kitchen– he seemed content to just fill the shelves each week, without consulting or even asking Yusuke to split the bill. He still makes a mental note to grab another box of cocoa next time he goes out, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet.

Distracted as Yusuke is, mulling over the things he'd used in the last week or so, he almost fails to realize he’s not alone. A flash of red catches his eye as he rounds the corner to the pantry– and then Yusuke startles so badly he drops the glass.

There's– there's a fucking fox in the kitchen.

What is unmistakably a real, live fox stares back at him, both of them frozen in surprise. Yusuke barely registers the mug shattering as it hits the ground, pieces scattering every which way– but the fox's ears go flat against its head at the commotion, tail low and hackles raised. Holy shit. Holy shit, what do I– How did it even get in??

Yusuke startles as the fox recovers first, claws scrabbling on the tile as it bolts out through the doggy door.

Shit, the fucking dog door. Of course. Yusuke had asked his housemate about the pet door when he was still moving his stuff in, but…

"So, you got a dog?"

Kurama looks up from the stove so quickly, Yusuke thinks he hears his neck crack. "Pardon?"

He gestures with his chin, since his hands are occupied making a sandwich. They'd spent the greater part of the afternoon lugging his stuff in from the truck. Some boxes are still waiting in the foyer. "The doggy door?"

Kurama looks at him blankly for a moment, before following his gaze to the kitchen door. "Oh. Oh…yes. When I was a child," he replies distractedly, stirring the contents of the pot he's tending. Whatever it is, it smells divine. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have some stew? It'll be ready soon."

Yusuke waves the offer off. "Nah, I'm beat. Prolly gonna take a quick nap before I lug the rest up, if that's cool?"

He nods and glances out the window above the sink. "Certainly. I'm afraid I'll be out of pocket before you wake up, though."

Yusuke almost asks what the redhead's evening plans are, but he stuffs the words back down. It was probably, definitely uncool to start hitting on your housemate before you even got your shit unpacked. Right? "No worries, man. I can get it by myself. So, uh…if this ends up working out, think I can get a dog?”

“No,” Kurama says immediately, surprising Yusuke a bit. He seems to realize how blunt his answer was, because he's quick to add, “That is. I, I seem to have developed an allergy to pets ever since– Kuro– died. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Uh, it’s cool. Sorry about your dog.”

He'd never even thought to see if the thing had a latch.

Yusuke figures out how to close it after a bit of fiddling– there's a panel that can be lowered over the opening, prolly for when it's cold outside. Y'know, like now.

As soon as he's sure the dog door is shut and locked, he grabs his phone.

Y: hey uh i got home early tonight and there was a fox in the kitchen?

Y: i think it got in through the dog door so I shut it

Y: spooked the shit outta me lol

Yusuke rubs his mouth as he considers the string of messages for a minute. Then he taps the ‘Call’ button. Kurama never answers at night, but this feels like the kind of situation he should maybe call about? There’d been a wild animal in the guy’s house, for fuck’s sake.

Unsurprisingly, it rings to voicemail while Yusuke starts looking for the broom and dustpan. “Hello, you’ve reached Shuichi Minamino. I’m currently unable to answer the phone…”

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Yusuke. …I just wanted to tell you there was a fox in the kitchen just now? He ran out through the dog door, which I’m guessin’ is how he got in to begin with. But uh, I shut it, so it should be fine. Oh– I broke one of your mugs too, sorry. I can pay you back for it or something. Uh. Talk to you later, I guess.”

After he’s swept up all the glass and gotten down on his knees to check under the cabinets, Yusuke fetches another mug and gets his damn cocoa started.

He glances back at the kitchen door while he waits for the microwave. Was that just…a thing that could happen out here? They were still in the city, after all. The dense grove of trees around the property could hardly be called woodlands, at least as far as he figured–
but then, Yusuke was a city boy through and through, so what did he know?

When he’s upstairs with his cocoa and a snack, Yusuke checks his phone. No messages. Of course.

If it were Kuwabara, he'd be blowing up his phone, calling back to freak out with Yusuke as soon as he saw. The calm quiet of the Minamino house feels almost stifling by contrast, like a heavy blanket thrown over everything.

Yusuke sighs and blows at the steam rising off his mug. Him and Kuwa had also been at each other's throats, there at the end– no point in comparing his best friend to his strange, reclusive roommate. A roommate that gave some seriously mixed signals.

Even with that thought firmly in mind, sleep eludes Yusuke for several hours after he finally lies down.

He knocks on his roommate's door the next day. Kurama has the master suite at the far end of the hall. The floorboards creak a little as he pads across the rug. He’s never been in there, of course. Why would he?

Yusuke hesitates for a few beats before knocking again, a little more firmly. There'd been no reply on his phone when he got up– no missed calls or voicemail. Nothing to indicate the redhead had seen his texts.

Normally, that's no big deal– he got over being miffed about Kurama never replying a few weeks in– but come on. It wasn’t like he was just asking if he ought to grab more milk at the store.

He’s saved from second-guessing himself to pieces by the sound of the latch turning, and Kurama appears in the sliver of the doorway a moment later, looking…like he just woke up. "Shit. Uh–" Yusuke stumbles over his words, hand twitching to rub at the back of his neck and trying not to gawk. "–Sorry for. For waking you up." He's pretty even with his hair all tangled and circles under his eyes. How is that fair?!

Green eyes blink a few times, and then the door opens a little further as Kurama leans against the frame. "Don't worry about it," he reassures, clearing the sleep from his throat. He's wearing actual pajamas; a loose green button-down and matching pants, both soft and cozy-looking. Shit. He was definitely dead asleep before Yusuke came knocking. "Is something the matter?"

"Uh. Yeah. I mean, I handled it, but– I dunno if you saw your messages?” he asks lamely, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “…A uh, a fox got into the house last night."

There's a pause– probably Kurama processing what he'd said– before he perks up in mild surprise. "Oh. Oh, dear."

"Yeah," Yusuke emphasizes, "I think it got in through the dog door, since it like, fuckin’ bolted out that way. Spooked me real good, too.”

The redheads frowns faintly as he relays the story. "He was probably just as spooked as you,” he reasons.

"I guess," Yusuke shrugs it off. "Anyway, I shut the dog door, so it shouldn't happen again."

The redhead's brows knit together. He’s still got one hand on the doorknob, closing off his space in much the same way his expression feels closed-off. "Right."

Maybe…he's just sleepy.

"Uh. Has that happened before?" Yusuke hedges, feeling distinctly awkward the longer he stands there. "Animals getting in through the dog door, I mean. I bet it's 'cause it's getting cold outside."

Kurama shakes his head. "No, it hasn't. And don't worry about the mug– I have more than I need to begin with,” he adds dismissively.

"Oh, uh. You sure?"

"Quite. Was there anything else?" The door creaks a little on the hinges, the space he’s standing in narrowing incrementally as he straightens.

"Nah. Uh…sorry for waking you up."

"It's fine. Goodnight, Yusuke."

" 'Night."

The door shuts with a click.

…Alright, then. Not really how he thought that conversation was gonna go.

Halfway down the stairs, it dawns on Yusuke that he hadn't mentioned the broken mug. Which meant…Kurama must have opened his messages, after all. So– so that whole painful exchange had been totally unnecessary in the first fuckin’ place!

Yusuke feels his stomach sour, embarrassment and frustration bitter on his tongue. If the guy would just– just answer his godsdamn texts once in a while!

He doubles back up to grab his bag from his room, before heading out with a scowl etched over his features. It's too early to go to class, but he’s too ticked off to stay still. He needs to get out and…and clear his head or something. If he were still young and stupid and didn’t give a fuck, he’d go pick a fight– that always did the trick when he was keyed up about something.

"Like, that's a big deal right? I'm not overreacting?"

Gods bless Kuwabara. When he realized halfway to the bus station that he didn't grab anything to eat, Yusuke called his bestie and begged him to bring extra. Kuwa might've grumbled about it, but he still has two bentos in tow when they meet up at their usual spot.

Carrot top looks like he's reconsidering his generosity after listening to Yusuke bitch for a solid fifteen minutes. "I dunno, man. I never lived out in the country either. Maybe that kinda stuff just comes with the territory.”

Yusuke stabs a tomato slice with his chopsticks. "Humans invented walls and doors to keep the other shit out," he gripes. "I just. I feel like anyone else would have been a little more concerned, or, or surprised or something! What if it had rabies or some shit?"

"Did you get bit?"

"No, but imagine if I did! Fuckin' hermit boy would have just asked 'is that all? ' and shut the door in my face,” he grouses irritably. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration– but Yusuke had gotten more riled up the longer he had to think– and relay the story to Kuwabara. Something about Kurama's dismissiveness just…rubbed him wrong.

"Maybe the fox is his familiar," a low, grumbling voice intones, apropos of nothing. Yusuke startles so bad he nearly falls out of his chair, whipping his head around.

At the same time, Kuwabara exclaims in happy surprise. "Hiei! What're you– don't you have work?"

The little gremlin looks about as happy to be there as he would if the lounge were a daycare center. He's got his hands shoved in the pockets of his oversized coat, chin tucked into a big, fuzzy scarf, scowling at them from over it.

"It's Friday," Hiei explains flatly. "Apparently, people like to go home early today."

Yusuke snorts. Leave it to Kuwabara's weird, grumpy roommate to sound put out about getting an early weekend. "Damn, it's almost like they enjoy their free time or something.”

Wine-brown eyes narrow and twitch towards him, but Yusuke doesn't so much as falter. He learned the shrimp was all bark back when he was helping get his shit hauled up the stairs to their– er, Kuwa's– apartment.

"Guys, don't fight," the big guy in question placates, scooting his chair closer to Yusuke to make room for a third. Even though there's a whole other end of the table free. "C'mon, Hiei, take a load off! You look chilly. Was it cold outside? Did you have a hard time finding us? Have you…"

If it's possible to look even more uncomfortable, Hiei manages to under the barrage of excited questions, shoulders slowly edging towards his earmuffs. It's not that cold outside yet, is it?

"I was just in the area," he lies. Like a liar. Yusuke sees through his bullshit instantly, sees his feet shift uncertainly where he stands near– but not quite at– their table. Hiei wasn't expecting Kuwabara to have company.

Oh, he is so gonna tease the big lug about this. Later, later. Yusuke shovels a few more bites into his mouth and starts gathering up his things, much to Kuwabara's confusion.

"Well, sorry for having to eat and run," he says around his food, chair squealing against the floor. "Forgot I have to, uh, meet up with my professor before class today."

"Huh? But–"

"Thanks again for the food," Yusuke cuts him off before he can start poking holes in his alibi, ignoring shorty’s suspicious glare. "By the way, what were those little pinkish things in the stir fry? They were super tasty."

Kuwabara blinks, blindsided, but before he can answer Hiei leans over to inspect the half-eaten bento. "Easter egg radishes," he supplies a moment later, monotone.

Yusuke stops with one arm threaded through his backpack strap. Wait. Did he. …Did Hiei make these?!

The gremlin’s already sliding into the seat he was at, clicking the lid on the second bento and nudging it aside. His expression says, 'I'll enjoy gutting you if you stick around for another ten seconds'. Yusuke finishes wrestling his backpack on. "Oh. Well, they were real tasty. Thanks again. Talk to you later, Kuwa!"

"Uh– okay! Bye I guess?"

He ducks out of the lounge like a robber out of a bank, stifling his grin until he's well out of sight. Kuwabara and the little vampire. Who'dve thought?? For all his teasing, even Yusuke hadn't actually seen that one coming. And Hiei was already fixing him lunches for school, holy shit…

Yusuke wanders his next class with a fresh bounce to his step, his own woes forgotten– at least temporarily– in the wake of a juicy new development in his bestie's love life.

The balm of getting to tease Kuwabara ("Shaddup, Urameshi, it's not like that!") gets him through the following week. Yusuke also sees neither hide nor hair of his housemate for a few days, which helps a little. Maybe he was overreacting after all.

Either way, the semester is rapidly drawing to a close– which means all of his brainpower (and free time) gets diverted into cramming, studying, and working on practice exams from his professors.

Shit, was it always this hard for other people?? Damn him, thinking it was cool to cut class when he was a teenager!

On the Wednesday before finals, Yusuke's sitting in front of the couch, head in his hands, willing his tension headache to fuck off. Spread across the coffee table are his notebooks (full of chicken scratch handwriting), his second-hand textbooks, a plate of sad, stale crumbs, and a myriad of worksheets covered in eraser smudges.

Why did it have to be trig? He was never gonna use this shit, even if he didn't end up going into culinary.

When Yusuke musters the will to pick up his pencil again, he startles; Kurama's standing by the living room entryway, like he was on his way into the kitchen before he stopped. "Yusuke?"

"Hey," he has to clear his throat– shit, where's his water?– and repeat himself. "What's up?"

The redhead gives him a curious look and comes into the living room proper to eye the academia spread out across the coffee table. He's wearing a checkered plaid pullover and dark, soft-looking jeans today.

Abruptly, Yusuke remembers their last stilted conversation and looks away, fingering his eraser. In his periphery, he sees Kurama bending slightly to look at his textbook, brushing long locks out of the way as they spill over his shoulders.

"Ahh. Trig, I take it?"

"Er, yeah. S'almost finals," he confirms.

Yusuke startles again when– out of absolutely nowhere– his housemate settles down at the coffee table, adjacent to him. "I never liked trig either. Too many formulas. May I?"

"Uh…" Yusuke pushes his most recent work in his direction with a bewildered nod. Kurama tucks his hair behind his ears as green eyes skim over his equations. It’s silent for a few pregnant moments. The redhead gestures for the pencil eventually…and then he starts making notes in the margins. Hang on, is he– helping me??

Yusuke gawps a little. Obviously, the redhead didn't feel any lingering awkwardness over their last conversation– and now that he's around the guy again, Yusuke feels kind of silly for making a thing of it, in the first place.

"Your work is solid," Kurama says, gesturing to one of his solutions. Yusuke leans over to look, mentally shaking himself. "In this equation, you simply…"

Kurama must have just gotten out of the shower before coming downstairs; he smells pleasantly like soap and pine. Stop being creepy, dumbass.

Before he can fully comprehend what's happening they're working back through his worksheets, one by one. Despite saying he disliked trigonometry, Kurama seems to be able to find everywhere Yusuke flubbed a step or used the wrong formula with ease. Then he patiently explains the error and lets Yusuke correct it, before checking his work for him again.

"Hey, uh, you don't…you don't have to help me out," he finally manages, while the redhead's looking over a particularly tricky word problem. “I just…needed more table space. And. Well. Kitchen,” he adds sheepishly, looking at his long-forgotten snack plate.

Kurama chuckles at the admission, and he feels the last dregs of tension dissipate. “I understand all too well. Being on the second floor can make getting snacks rather onerous.”

“Thank gods. I thought I was just being lazy.”

“Not at all. I’ve considered getting a minifridge, specifically so I don’t have to go up and down the stairs just for a glass of water.” Yusuke snorts, picking up his pencil after Kurama finishes making a note and slides the notebook over to him. “Why don’t you try the next problem solo while I get us something to eat?”

“Uh– okay! I was just kinda snacking…” he hovers, stuck between continuing with his trig or getting up and following the redhead into the kitchen. He knows which one he ought to do, but… It’s like he’s finally seeing the Kurama he met at the cafe again, stupid as that sounds.

Yusuke doesn’t want it to end.

The weekend comes too quickly, and yet seems to drag along at the same time.

Yusuke sets up camp in the living room after that, and much to his surprise (and delight), Kurama joins to help him study every day. The guy's a godsdamn genius– with his help, Yusuke gets the last of his assignments wrapped up and gets to devote all his time to cramming.

If he had the wherewithal to think about it, he might feel a little pathetic, being so stupidly happy about just getting to hang out with his housemate. But this is leagues ahead of where things had been, a few weeks ago. Back when even just seeing the guy was a rarity. Kurama's great company, and he's witty, and smart and… Gods, he has it bad.

So of course, Yusuke has to go and stick his foot in his mouth.

“Man. I dunno what I would have done without you,” he says while they’re taking a break. Yusuke would never have figured that taking time specifically for not studying during a study session would help, but damn if it doesn’t.

Kurama looks up from his book ( La Belle et la Bête – "Just some light reading," he'd said). “Come now. You were doing just as well on your own,” he protests, with a glance towards the front windows.

“No way, dude. You’re seriously a lifesaver,” Yusuke insists, sitting up straight as an idea starts to form. “Take the compliment, so I can say thanks for all your help.”

The redhead chuckles and closes the book, holding his place with a finger. “Alright– but you really don’t have to.”

“Nope, not listening,” he pops the ‘p’ in ‘nope’, pressing on. “I promised I’d make you dinner sometime when I first moved in, so how about it? As a thank-you for totally saving my ass.”

He keeps his voice steady, but Yusuke can feel his pulse jump as he speaks. Gods, he couldn't remember anyone else who had ever made him feel so– so unsure. About coming on too strong, saying the wrong thing, putting him off. Maybe he ought to be more concerned about that.

“I have a feeling you’re going to insist, no matter how much I say it wasn't any trouble,” Kurama observes with amusement.

“Got me there,” he agrees, turning to follow his gaze out the window when the redhead looks up again. “…Man, it gets dark early this time of year. So how about it?”

Green eyes sparkle with something he barely dares to call warmth. “I already indicated I would love to try your cooking sometime, you know.”

“That settles it,” Yusuke says decisively and gets up, excitement thrumming in his chest. “Alright, what do you want? If we’re missing something, I can just drop by the store down the street real quick.”

Kurama sits up straight as he stands, book completely forgotten. “Wh– Now? Don’t you have work?”

“Not tonight. Mr. Nishimura couldn’t give me off for all of finals week, but he did make sure I got the weekend to study,” Yusuke calls, halfway across the front hall already. He’s thumbing through recipes in his head, thinking about what they have on-hand at the moment and what he might want to pick up. His brain feels a little cottony from all the cramming, but he can still cook. He loves to cook. He hasn’t gotten to make dinner for someone else in–

“Ahh, Yusuke– That is…” Kurama's following after him, and something about his tone gets Yusuke’s full attention.

When he turns, the redhead’s hovering in the entryway to the kitchen, one arm folded across his chest.  He looks– uncertain. Nervous, even. Yusuke feels the wind leaving his sails. “I appreciate the gesture, really, but I– I had things to do tonight…"

“…Oh. Uh, that’s alright. I shouldn’tve… I shouldn’tve assumed you were free,” he says falteringly, trying really hard not to sound disappointed. Shit– was that too much? Did I come on too strong, after all??

“N-no, it’s alright,” Kurama flaps a hand, green eyes flicking to the window above the sink. “I really do want to try your cooking sometime, I just–”

Yusuke shakes his head a little to save the guy from babbling more polite excuses– and to save himself from having to hear them. “Hey, it's no worries. We…we can do something later on. Maybe when my schedule’s more open, after finals.”

“Right.” The redhead shifts after a beat, turning his feet towards the stairs. “Well. I… I’ll talk to you later, then. Good night, Yusuke.”

He waits until he hears Kurama’s footsteps heading towards the end of the hall on the second floor. The click of a door opening, then closing.

The barely-audible turn of a lock.

Yusuke thumps his head against the pantry door. Stupid! Why’d you have to get ahead of yourself? Why?? It was like– like dealing with a skittish animal,  trying to interact with Kurama. One false move and he runs off. Back to square one.

Thump. Thump.

Yusuke stands there for a few minutes feeling sorry for himself. Then he heaves a sigh and straightens up, rubbing at the mark on his forehead. No time for a pity party– he still has plenty of material to go over before Monday. Honestly? It was probably a good thing Kurama turned him down. He didn’t have time for that right now.

…Even if Yusuke would’ve been more than happy to make the time for him.

After that disaster, the Minamino house reverts to the still, quiet state from before.

Yusuke hates it. Not because he misses the noise of the city– but because the silence feels oppressive now. He gathers up his books and his notes on Saturday night, dejected. Kurama goes right back to being a ghost. The only way he knows the redhead’s even around is by the dishes that appear in the washer. The level of the water pitcher.

It feels like Yusuke's being singled out and punished with silence, which is ridiculous. More than that, it makes him feel gross and desperate and irritable for feeling that way– it was literally just an offer to make some food. Quit acting like he stood you up on a date, jackass.

Yusuke’s saved from his ugly moping on Monday, which is probably one of the strangest things he’s ever felt walking into an exam.

But it’s true. He can’t sit around feeling like an incel while he’s stress-eating in the cafeteria and going over equations for the bajillionth time. …Even if Kurama’s tidy handwriting in his notes makes his chest twinge a little, whenever he sees it.

When he gets home that evening, head throbbing with a dizzying mix of anxiety and relief that the first day was finally over, Yusuke almost doesn't notice that the panel on the dog door has been raised.

He stares at it for probably a solid thirty seconds. That…had been closed. He shut it himself a few weeks ago, after the whole fox thing. Right? Yeah.

Confused, he wanders across the kitchen to slide the panel down and flick the lock, and goes back to rummaging for something to eat. Maybe he hadn’t actually closed it all the way, or something. Whatever. Yusuke doesn’t have the mental capacity to wonder about anything but linear systems, right now.

It's open again two nights later.

"Alright, I'm not crazy," Yusuke insists out loud, folding his arms. He had definitely shut the stupid thing, last time. Even if he had momentarily forgotten the passcode on his own phone, after cramming so much he could hardly form a coherent thought by the time he passed out.

Was it coming open on its own?? No, the panel had to be raised. That wouldn't make sense. Even a raccoon would be hard-pressed to force it up while the lock was engaged. Which it had been. Yusuke was certain.

He locks it with a little more force this time, even jimmies the toggle a little to make sure the thing is good and latched this time.

The following evening, the lock has been twisted right off.

Yusuke stares at it, thumb still hovering over the student dashboard on his phone. Today– Thursday– had been the last day of finals (at least for him). He was free, finally free, and he wanted nothing more than to grab a box of crackers and hole up in his room for the next ten to twelve hours.

But… He wanders over to the door and crouches unsteadily to get a closer look. Yeah, no; that shit was broken. Intentionally. A bit of the chilly December air creeps in around the flap, this close to, but that’s not the reason he has goosebumps.

Yusuke can see claw marks in the plastic. Even more disturbingly, the lock itself– which was admittedly a pretty flimsy toggle to begin with– looks like it was twisted and forced one way, until it just snapped.

That shit? That shit needed thumbs to do.

When he checks the bin, the warped bit of plastic is sitting on top of the trash.

He stares at it as he tries to order his racing thoughts. Was Kurama the one unlocking the dog door over and over? He had to be. Nothing else made sense.

But what about the frickin’ gouges in the plastic? Those looked new. And then to flat out break the lock…it had to have been his roommate. No animal could’ve done that. But why?

It doesn’t make any sense, and especially not right now. Yusuke feels like a deflated balloon– all the shit he’d crammed into his brain had been hemorrhaged back out on finals this week, leaving him feeling overstretched and empty-headed.

Nevermind trying to Sherlock this bizarro shit.

He…he’ll talk to Kurama about it. Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.

Yusuke had put off a ton of shit this week– groceries, laundry, hell, even just keeping in touch with his friends. But this? This wasn’t the kind of thing he’d forget about after getting some shuteye. Awkward as things were with his housemate, he'd just have to suck it up and ask what the hell was going on.

A creeping unease settles over Yusuke as he heads upstairs. It makes him flinch at every creaky floorboard, every groan of the house settling while he curls up under his blanket. Must be the exhaustion.

He sleeps for a full (and well-deserved) twelve hours. When he wakes up, it’s not to his alarm going off, or even his own internal clock snapping him to awareness. No, Yusuke wakes up hungry.

He groans as he throws the blankets off, sitting up with his eyes still closed.

A beat passes.

Then he remembers what day it is.

The phone almost slips out from under his uncoordinated pawing, but Yusuke manages to grab it before it can skitter away and onto the floor. His student dashboard’s still up in his browser– he drags the page down to refresh it, blinking the sleep from his eyes while it loads.

No results. Damn.

Well, it’s only Friday, Yusuke reminds himself around a surge of disappointment and anxiety. It’s…jeez, it’s almost five o’clock. He slept the entire day away. Fuckin’ needed it, too. His head’s throbbing that way that it does after getting a long, hard sleep. But more urgently than that, he’s starving.

Yusuke stumbles out of his room and down the hall to take a leak first. There’s still dark rings around his eyes, unsurprisingly– college and shift work do not a healthy circadian rhythm make– but he feels more rested than he has in what feels like an age. Finals week had kicked his ass last semester, and the semester before, but fuck if those experiences had given him any insight on how to make it any less stressful this go-round.

Alright, teeth brushed and face washed. Time to find something in the fridge and demolish it.

Yusuke doesn’t recall the thing about the lock until he rounds the corner into the kitchen and sees Kurama. The redhead's standing by the sink, looking at him with an almost comically owlish expression.

Hell, Yusuke's a little startled to see him, too– but Kurama looks genuinely spooked. “Er…Sorry for sneaking up on ya,” he says eventually. Aaaaawkward. He sidles around the redhead towards the fridge, and that’s when he sees the pet door and remembers.

Kurama follows his gaze for a second and then snaps his attention quickly away from the door. “It– it’s quite alright,” he reassures, bending down to put some soap in the dishwasher. “How…how were your exams? Are you finished for the semester?”

Yusuke gives an affirmative while digging some takeout from the fridge. He had taken back every unkind thing he ever thought about Mr. Nishimura, this week. He still had to show up for his shifts, of course– but once the manager had found out it was finals, he’d sent his overnight cook home early almost every night with a box of takeout. On the house. Probably he felt guilty that he couldn’t just give him the week off completely.

“I think it went good,” Yusuke answers, once he’s pressed the ‘Start’ button on the microwave. Then he turns to regard his housemate. The hum of his food heating up fills the silence about as well as a cup of water would fill the ocean.

“Uh. Thanks again for your help.” Gods, he hopes he isn’t putting his foot in his mouth by bringing it up. He only started avoiding you all over again over it, it’s prolly fine. Not. Yusuke hesitates before blurting out, “So hey, I uh–”

“–I was happy to help,” Kurama cuts him off, not so much as looking at Yusuke. He dries his hands and glances the kitchen in a decidedly skittish way as he drapes the dishtowel over the sink, eyes bright in the diminishing light from the window. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your break.”

–And then he's heading out of the kitchen, before he even finishes speaking.

Yusuke blinks a couple times, in the wake of that blatant dismissal. The old familiar confusion and hurt over his housemate’s strange behavior bubbles up– and then boils over into frustration.

He makes a snap decision and follows.

“Hey– wait,” Yusuke calls, taking the stairs two at a time to catch up. Kurama’s already on the second floor; he damn near breaks into a jog when he sees Yusuke in close pursuit. “Kurama, hang on– I wanted to talk to you!”

“We can talk tomorrow,” the redhead replies without even looking back, beelining for the end of the hall. Yusuke growls, tripping over the rug as he ducks around Kurama to overtake him and slaps his hand against the wall. A picture frame rattles warningly, and the redhead nearly clotheslines himself– but infuriatingly, he still doesn’t so much as look at Yusuke. His red hair hangs like a curtain between them.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since I moved in,” Yusuke blurts out, heat saturating his voice. He knows he’s being irrational, he knows– but Kurama won’t even fucking acknowledge him, now! “I don’t care if you wanna be left alone, dude, but you’re being an ass about it. Did I offend you somehow? What is it?!”

His chest twists at his own words, ugly and uncomfortably like pain. Yusuke scowls and slams his palm into the wall again, demanding something, anything. A response, a punch in the face– anything but this godsdamned silence.

“Yusuke, I’m sorry,” Kurama starts. He realizes belatedly that the redhead’s shaking ever-so-slightly, by the quaver in his voice. “But I can’t talk right now so, please–”

“–You’re never gonna talk to me,” Yusuke spits accusingly, mouth running on its own even as Yusuke tries– too late– to swallow his temper. “You won’t even fucking look at me!”

The tension in the hall snaps the moment he lays a hand on him.

Yusuke grabs Kurama’s shoulder, intending to– to force the redhead to look at him, acknowledge him in some fucking way. He doesn’t even know. Maybe he was going to punch the guy.

Whatever he was trying to do, Kurama wheels around to slap his hand away with the side of his arm the moment Yusuke touches him. There’s a flash of teeth, red hair flying around a terrible, snarling face– and then pain explodes across Yusuke’s face, raking across his nose and cheek. He reels back with his hands flying up to his face, and Kurama uses the moment of stunned surprise to make a break for it.

In the split second before he vanishes, Yusuke sees– or thinks he sees– a set of red ears,  poking out of the top of his head. Then the door slams, hard enough to finally send the picture clattering to the floor.

He stands in the silence that follows for several minutes.

A soft plip draws his attention. When he looks down, Yusuke realizes distantly that he’s bleeding– there’s blood soaking into the neck of his shirt and dripping onto the carpet. Shit…that’ll stain…

The sheer ludicrousness of worrying about the rug when he’s fucking bleeding is what brings him back to reality a little. Then Yusuke’s staggering down the stairs into the bathroom, smearing red across the switch as he fumbles to turn the light on.

He’s…he has claw marks across his face.

Three long gouges clip over his nose and across his cheek, nearly to his ear, with a shorter fourth along the bottom.

And he’s bleeding. Badly.

This is– he can’t– he needs his phone.

He needs to leave.

The next hour goes by in a blur.

Somehow, Yusuke gets himself outside, walking down the street away from the Minamino house with his shoes, jacket, and even his scarf on. He’s shivering before the wind even gets a chance to whip around him, one hand pressing his phone to his ear (on the side that’s not fucked up) as Kuwabara shouts at him to stay where he is.

The next moment, he’s sitting in a car.

It’s so, so warm in here, especially compared to the teeth-rattling cold outside the window. Yusuke thinks he might be in shock. He’s mentally going through his CPR course from spring semester– specifically the dangers of exposing people in shock to extreme temperature changes, cause isn't that a thing?– when he realizes someone’s talking to, or rather at him.

“–ppened? Yusuke! What the fuck happened?!”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then he’s outside again, and it’s even colder than it was before after sitting in the warm, sheltering cocoon of the car. His jaw aches from clenching it, and one side of his face is strangely colder than the other, and– oh, he’s home. Yusuke shrugs off the arm around him to teeter up the stairs to his and Kuwa’s pad, fumbling for his keys. Shit…did he forget ‘em again?

The door opens before he can get his hand out of his jacket pocket to knock, and Kuwabara looks at him like he’s a ghost or something. Yusuke's witty remark tangles in his mouth while he’s pushed and tugged inside. Back into the warm.

“–won’t talk to me, I don’t know–”

“–did he at least–”

“–idiot was trying to walk here–”

Yusuke stumbles a little, not getting to so much as take off his shoes before he’s ushered into the bathroom. He sinks heavily onto the toilet lid and watches dazedly as Kuwabara rips towels, rolls of toilet paper, and even his bleach kit out from under the cabinet before finding what he’s after.

The first aid kit reminds him. “Heyyyy, Kuwa…mind patchin’ me up?” When Yusuke grins, it pulls at the skin on one side of his face strangely. Right, I…I got in a fight.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you after we make sure you’re not gonna bleed to death, Urameshi,” his best friend replies, digging for the antiseptic. The sharp, chemical smell and the sting of having his wounds treated (okay, mainly the sting) is what finally snaps Yusuke out of his stupor.

"Ow, fuck–! Easy on the peroxide, genius!”

“Shaddup! You want this to be a big ugly scar?” carrot top snaps back, easily evading Yusuke’s feeble attempts to dodge his hands. He continues cleaning his face with a gauze pad, but he looks less pinched with anxiety as the minutes pass, and Yusuke starts reacting to stimuli more. “Maybe it’d be an improvement for your ugly mug,” Kuwabara mutters under his breath, leaning in and dabbing more carefully as he gets closer to his eye.

“I heard that,” Yusuke mumbles back, but dutifully holds still. At least the guy's not looking at him like– like he was, a minute ago.

“Scared the shit out of us, you jerk.”

Kuwabara tosses the last of the gauze in the bin, grey eyes assessing. Then he gets a bit of toilet paper and starts patting Yusuke’s face dry. “S’not like I meant to,” he looks away, keeping his chin tilted for the bigger man.

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as Kuwabara starts unwrapping bandages, holding them up to his face, then shuffling for different ones or setting them aside to use. Out the corner of his eye Yusuke sees a dark shadow in the doorway. When he looks over, it’s Hiei– he’s leaning against the wall and watching, silently.

“Take a picture,” he quips, slurring the words a little as his face gets squished against Kuwa’s hand applying the bandages.

“Already did,” Hiei retorts.

“Wait– what? That’s fuckin’ cree–”

“–Evidence, you twit. For evidence,” Hiei snaps, shifting where he’s leaning against the doorframe. He looks uncomfortable.

“…Evidence?” Yusuke echoes, drawing a blank for several seconds. “Oh–! Wait, no, we just–…”

Red hair flying around a terrible, snarling face. Pain raking across his cheek like streaks of fire. A glimpse of a…tail?

“ ‘We just’ what?” Kuwabara prompts. “You look like you got mauled by a bear, Urameshi. The fuck happened?”

What happened. Yusuke pulls his face away and tries to think. Carrot top clicks his tongue in annoyance and starts picking up the paper wrappers littered across the counter.

He…he got in a fight with his housemate. Yusuke’s sure of that much, at least. Kurama had been acting weird, and he was already kinda irritable, and ticked off about everything, so…he chased after him. Why the guy was being so evasive was a question for later. Yusuke had followed him upstairs and tried to stop him from leaving, because it felt like he was never gonna get Kurama to talk if he didn’t force the issue, right then and there.

“We…got into an argument,” Yusuke starts, feeling out the words as he speaks.

“You and your housemate?” Hiei clarifies. He’s got his phone out, thumbs flying across the screen.

“Yeah. He was trying to go to his room, but– I was just so fed up, man. I grabbed him by the shoulder and–”

“–So you started the altercation.”

“Let him talk, Hiei,” Kuwabara gives his roommate a sharp look over his shoulder, for which Yusuke’s grateful.

“It’s fine, dude. I…I did start it, I guess.” The bandages pull at his face awkwardly as he talks, but the pain’s starting to fade into something manageable. Easier to ignore. “Anyway, soon as I touched him…I guess he must have slapped the shit outta me or something, ‘cause that’s where I got all this,” Yusuke gestures vaguely.

“Slapped you? Urameshi, I wasn’t jokin’ when I said you looked like you got mauled. Did you even see your face?”

“I did,” he frowns, trying to make sense of the jumbled, rapid-fire exchange in the hall. A flash of teeth. A snarling face, like an animal’s. Red ears…

“I thought I saw–…” Yusuke shakes his head. “I don’t know. He hit me and went into his room, and that’s when I realized I was bleeding.”

When he looks up, two sets of eyes are on him. Yusuke ducks his head again, only for Kuwabara to take his chin and tip his face back up, intent on finishing his patch job. “Did he have brass knuckles or somethin’, you think?”

“Nah,” Yusuke dismisses, looking down with his eyes. Hiei stands up straight in the doorway, shadowy save for the bright glow of his phone screen. “He doesn’t seem…like much of a fighter.”

“ ‘Ch. Look in the mirror and say that,” Kuwabara retorts. He lets go of Yusuke’s face after fussing for another minute or so. “What do you think you saw?”

Course he caught that bit. Yusuke spends a minute working his jaw, just for show, after having it grabbed by the big lug. “It’s nothin’. I must’ve been a little delirious,” he shrugs and starts to get up, even though there’s no way in hell he can get around Kuwabara’s massive frame in this tiny bathroom.

His ass drops down onto the lid of the toilet as a wave of dizziness comes over him.

“Dumbass, you’re prolly still delirious! Babe, can you get some water…?”

Hiei disappears down the hall, silent as a ghost, while Yusuke tries to make the room stop tilting like a carnival ride. It takes him a few minutes to register what he’s heard. He lifts his head (tilted to one side, because he’s still dizzy) and gives Kuwabara the most shit-eating look he can muster, with half his face covered in plasters. “Wait, ‘babe’? Did you just call him ‘babe’?”

Kuwabara stares at him for a second with his face scrunched up, like he’s trying to figure out what stinks– and then his whole freckly complexion goes bright red. “N– Fuck you! Just ‘cause you got beat up, doesn’t mean I won’t pound you into the floor if you don’t shaddup right now!”

“Pound me? Come on, Kuwa, I thought you were too honorable to cheat–!”

Turns out, carrot top has to get up at ass o’clock to take his last final. On a Saturday.

“That should be illegal. Straight up. Put it in the Geneva Conventions,” Yusuke commiserates, sitting off to one side with a bowl as carrot top spreads a blanket across the couch for him. He’d tried to help– hell, he’d tried to tell Kuwa he probably wouldn’t need any bedding, given his sleep schedule– but he was soundly and unequivocally shut up on account of being ‘seriously injured and in no shape to do a darn thing right now’.

“Tell me about it,” Kuwabara groans. He looks at the makeshift bed he’s cobbled together and nods to himself. “How’s the curry?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Yusuke replies emphatically around a mouthful of said food. He swallows and starts to add, ‘Better’n what Kurama makes,’ because the redhead was kind of a baby about the spicy stuff– but stops short. “…Hiei really likes his spice, doesn’t he?” is what he says, instead.

“If it’s too much for you, there’s milk in the fridge,” Hiei offers, leaning his chin on his hand.

Yusuke flips him off and goes back to scarfing down his delicious, definitely not-too-spicy curry. To his (and seemingly Kuwabara’s) surprise, the little jackass had offered to take Yusuke to the police. Honestly? That hadn’t even crossed his mind, he was so accustomed to getting into street brawls as a teenager. But Yusuke thanked him anyway– after declining– and Hiei just jerked his head in a nod.

Once he’s satisfied he’s done enough to be a good host (unnecessarily, since Yusuke used to live here), Kuwabara has to go to bed. Yusuke rinses his bowl and puts it in the washer after he’s done eating, and then…

Then it’s just him, the vampire wannabe, and the TV.

Hiei flops down at the end of the couch opposite from the pillows his roommate brought out, picking up the remote the way someone might plant a flag in the ground. Yusuke considers bickering about it for maybe a second, before he shrugs and wanders over to his jacket for his smokes.

When he’s patted and dug through all of his pockets two or three times, Hiei deigns to look around the back of the couch at what has Yusuke cussing under his breath. “What.”

“Forgot my smokes,” he grumbles, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. There’s a convenience store down the road–

He looks over right as Hiei’s throwing a pack of cigarettes at him. Yusuke catches them in one hand, but misses the lighter that follows immediately after. “Oh, thanks. …Didn’t know you smoked.”

“Hn.”

He’s back to watching TV when Yusuke straightens up. He shakes his head, feeling a creeping fondness for the little jerk starting to grow. Like a fungus.

Of course his lighter has a dragon on it. Yusuke lights up and tosses both pack and lighter onto the couch, taking a deep drag…and then cringing. Oh, gods. Dude has shit taste in cigarettes– they’re menthols.

Ugh. Well, beggars can’t be choosers.

Yusuke ends up pacing half the night away, while the little vampire watches shit on the TV. It looks like some kind of cheesy, over-acted drama show. Nothing interesting, and besides, Yusuke’s too preoccupied trying to sort out his own drama to pay any attention.

Hiei shows him the photo he took when Yusuke asks. It’s…not pretty. And not just because the picture was taken with the flash on, in a dark vehicle, at a seriously unflattering angle. He really does look like he got mauled by a bear.

Yusuke looks at his own bloodied face on the screen, gingerly brushing his fingers over the bandages now covering it. How…how did someone even inflict that kind of damage?

Kurama’s face twisted into a snarl, shoving Yusuke’s hand away before he…before…

He looks up with a start when he realizes Hiei’s just watching him, staring with his huge owl-like eyes. Little creep doesn’t so much as blink. “What?” Yusuke grouses after a brief stare-down, straightening and walking around the back of the couch for another cigarette.

“What did you see?”

He mumbles a, "Huh?" around the filter, flicking the lighter a couple times before it ignites. Hiei’s still watching him, but with less of that creepy-ass staring thing.

“When he struck you. What did you see?”

Yusuke scowls and ends up wincing right after, the expression shifting the injured side of his face too much. Man, that's gonna be a bitch for awhile. “I dunno, man.”

Hiei’s relentless. “What do you think you saw?”

“What are you, a cop?” Both of them glance down the hallway after Yusuke snips at him, a little louder than he’d meant to.

Silence.

He sighs after a couple of minutes. “Like I said…I don’t know. I thought I saw…something. But it doesn’t make any sense,” Yusuke fumbles haltingly. Takes another drag. “So it must have just been my imagination.”

Hiei waits for him to continue, expression neutral for once– instead of the faint frown that seems to permanently crease his features. In the background, the TV show plays on, forgotten.

Yusuke paces towards the kitchen. Wanders back to the living room, the sliding door to the balcony. Looks out through the glass at the world outside, dark and quiet.

“...It looked…it looked like he had. Ears? On top of his head. Like, like animal ears. And I thought. I… I'unno, I thought I saw a flash of a tail right before he shut the door.” He turns to meet the little gremlin’s gaze, no doubt watching him like he thinks Yusuke’s out of his head. “Crazy, right?”

Hiei is watching him, but his features aren’t twisted in derision or disbelief. He just looks…curious. “What color were they?”

“Um, what?”

“The ears. The tail. What color were they?”

Yusuke tries to conjure that specific detail about his– his mismemory– and finds it with more ease than anything else he’d been trying to recall about their brief, intense altercation. “Red. Not like– not quite like his hair. They were more…brick red? Almost orangey, with black at the tips.”

“Like a fox,” Hiei offers.

“Yeah! Just like that.”

Shorty hums and goes back to watching his show after a couple minutes, apparently satisfied with his answers.

Yusuke stays by the balcony door and distractedly puffs on his (gross) cigarette. It couldn’t be right, but talking to someone about it– even if Hiei was actually just morbidly interested, or looking for future blackmail material or whatever– makes him all the more certain he had seen something.

Just like he warned Kuwabara, Yusuke doesn’t sleep a wink for hours. He paces and smokes, and paces and smokes, until Hiei cuts him off from finishing the entire pack. Then he sits on the couch (after tossing the pillows out of the way) and bounces his leg as he stares in the general direction of the television.

Hiei’s still sitting up with him, silent like the little vampire he is. The circles under his eyes look darker in the blue glow of the screen, and suddenly, Yusuke feels like a jackass. “Hey, uh…you don’t have to stay up all night with me, you know,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

Hiei shrugs one shoulder and shifts, obviously settling in for the night. Maybe the guy had a thing about going to bed when a ‘stranger’ was still awake in his house, or something. Whatever. He tried.

There’s infomercials playing when Yusuke feels his eyelids getting heavy. The only light in the room is from theTV, bathing them in bright, pale light in a sea of darkness. He lolls his head to one side against the back of the couch to look for the remote…

And then Kuwabara’s making a ruckus in the kitchen.

“–went to all the trouble of setting you up for the night, and you fall asleep sitting on the blanket! Hey, Urameshi, are you awake now??”

“Unfortunately,” Yusuke mutters, smacking his lips a little. Ugh, his mouth tastes like vaguely burnt mint ass. When he sits up, his entire neck cracks in protest, soreness lancing down his spine.

“Good, wake up Hiei for me. I don’t have time,” carrot top barks, pouring a bowl of cereal. Yusuke blinks a few times as he starts to realize that A), it's light outside, and B), he’s not alone on the couch– Hiei’s curled up against the opposite armrest. His mouth is ajar and he’s drooling against his fist a little, breath wheezing from him in little snores.

It’s adorable. The way pugs are adorable.

The little vampire startles like someone fired a gun when Yusuke shakes his narrow shoulder, snapping awake and kicking the shit out of the coffee table in the process. “Easy, tiger,” he snickers tiredly, earning himself a glower that’s rendered useless by Hiei wiping his mouth as he delivers it.

“Time?” he rasps.

“It’s seven,” Kuwabara calls, around a mouthful of cereal. He’s still standing at the counter while he eats, slurping down cornflakes at lightspeed.

Hiei groans and tips back against the couch cushions, much the way Yusuke had been sleeping earlier. “Kill me.”

Yeah, me too, buddy. He pats his shoulder commiseratingly.

“Go lay down, dude. You gonna stick around today, Urameshi?”

Hiei gets to his feet in a manner that can only be described as slumping upright, ignoring Yusuke’s half-hearted laughter following him down the hall.

“…Yeah, if that’s alright. I could use some more shuteye,” he admits. Despite having apparently slept part of the night away, Yusuke feels wiped out. His circadian rhythm will definitely beat his ass for that later, but…

“Of course. Uh, maybe lay down on the pillows this time, though? You were snoring like a pig.”

“Fuck you,” he retorts, trying and failing to inject venom into his voice as he reaches for the aforementioned pillows. The big lug just snorts, rinsing his bowl, and then heads down the hall with rapid, heavy footfalls.

Oh, man. Laying down after having slept sitting upright feels like heaven. He has to shift around a little to get comfortable without putting pressure on the side of his face that’s fucked up, but once he finds a good position, Yusuke starts drifting off almost immediately.

He doesn’t even hear the click of the lock as Kuwabara heads out.

Yusuke ends up spending the day at Kuwabara and Hiei's place. Sometime past noon, short stack nudges him awake with increasing violence, until he grumbles, “I’m up, I’m up.”

When he cracks an eye open, Hiei's holding his phone out to him. The notification light’s blinking. Yusuke takes it from him, bleary-eyed, and Hiei wanders away. A moment later, he hears the coffee maker bubble to life.

The haze of sleepy fog evaporates as soon as Yusuke looks at his notifications. It's…a text message. From Kurama.

(1/2) Yusuke, I am deeply sorry for what transpired yesterday evening. If you are no longer comfortable living here, I completely understand. I can arrange to be out of the house for a few days while you retrieve your belongings, if that would make you feel safer.

(2/2) Otherwise, if you still want to talk…I think you are owed some answers. It’s the least I can do after what I’ve done, but I will accept whatever course you choose to take. Again, I am so sorry for hurting you. It was neither my intent nor desire to ever do so.

It feels like all the air's been sucked out of the room.

Kurama had never, ever texted in the couple of months they’d been living together. If Yusuke scrolls up, there's just a short, one-way conversation, from back before he’d given up.

He's rereading the message on repeat when Hiei returns bearing two steaming cups of coffee. Yusuke accepts one distractedly, brown eyes glued to his screen. He sent a fucking text. He messaged me to– to apologize. Holy shit.

Spiky hair brushes against his face. "What're you going to do?"

Yusuke rears back, yanking his phone out of view and nearly spilling hot coffee all over himself. “Dude! Privacy!”

“My house,” the absolute bastard counters. Yusuke makes a face at him, winces, then does it again through the sting. Hiei sips his coffee, unperturbed. “Will you go back?”

He sobers. Looks down at the wall of text. The first message Kurama’s ever sent him.

“…Prolly,” Yusuke admits. If for nothing else, then to tell the jerk off for fucking up his face. But… Answers.

“Idiot,” Hiei snorts immediately. Then he adds, “Want backup?”

Yusuke considers the offer. Honestly considers it– he might have thought he was invincible, back at Sarayashiki, but even then he’d known deep down that he wasn’t. A one-man army is no army at all. "…Maybe. Is Kuwa back?"

The big guy gets home maybe half an hour later. He shrieks loud enough to make everyone’s ears ring when he finds out that Yusuke plans on going back. Alone.

"Dude, did you even see your face?" he protests shrilly. "Seriously! Me and Hiei would be more than happy to go over there with you, if you need to pick up some of your stuff. …No guarantee I won't wreck that guy if he's around, though," he adds, under his breath.

Yusuke folds his arms, frown pulling at the bandages his face and making it sting a little, like a nagging reminder. He doesn't know what to say. Doesn't really even understand his own logic (if there is any).

But he…he wants to hear the guy out. I owe you some answers.

Of course he realizes it's stupid– that old saying about cats and curiosity and all– but. Just like how Yusuke couldn't figure out how to verbalize the weeks and weeks of small, incongruent things he'd noticed, he has no explanation for this. Only that he needs to go.

It was neither my intent nor desire…to ever hurt you.

He sets out a few hours later. If he lingers any more, he might just let carrot top and the little vampire talk him out of it. He doesn't want to walk home in the dark– and there's supposed to be a storm rolling in, later. Hiei offers him a lift but Yusuke turns it down. The little dude would absolutely take the chance to accompany him inside, much as he tried to act all unconcerned and shit.

The walk back is cold and quiet. Yusuke picks up a pack of smokes at the convenience store that aren’t menthol, and the look the cashier gives him reminds him how he must look. Yeah…that’s fair. Between the bandages covering his whole cheek and the bridge of his nose– nevermind the bloodstain on the collar of his shirt– Yusuke would probably give himself a double-take, too. He had, actually; Kuwabara had batted his hands away from picking at the plasters in the hall mirror, right before he left.

Apart from that, though, it’s an uneventful trek.

The woods surrounding the Minamino house are quiet when Yusuke makes his way past the gate. The wind's gone, leaving the air feeling still and crisp. It’s usually pretty peaceful out here– perks of being tucked back from the street– but this… This is eerie. No rustling leaves, no squirrels running around digging for stored-up nuts. There isn’t so much as a damn bird chirping. Just silence.

Sunbeams streak through the trees and paint the air with slices of light. Yusuke's shadow stretches ahead up of him on the path, narrow and disjointed; when he follows it up to the house with his eyes, he sees him.

Kurama.

He's standing off to one side of the porch, resting his arms on the railing. His hair shines a brilliant crimson color, catching what little light there is and setting it ablaze.

He turns to look down the path as Yusuke gets closer, the crunch of leaves under his sneakers giving him away. Even that small noise feels muted, like the air itself is waiting. Listening.

Yusuke stops a few feet away. He tips his head up, willing his muscles to stop tensing, his nerves to shut up now that he's here, as his eyes flick automatically to Kurama's hands. No claws. No sharp, dangerous nails– just like he thought. His face twinges with pain, all the same.

"Yusuke," the redhead greets faintly. If he notices the distance between them, he doesn't say anything about it. Dull green eyes, duller than Yusuke ever remembers them being, widen as he sees in the state of him. "Your face…"

"…Yeah. You uh, you fucked me up pretty good." He scratches at his uninjured cheek, looking away. Kurama doesn't have ears coming out the top of his head, unsurprisingly. No tail. No claws.

The whole walk, Yusuke had been thinking of what he would say. What to do when he confronted his housemate. Now…all the scenarios he'd come up with in his head seem to dissipate in the wake of this strange, placid reality.

"I'm so, so sorry." Kurama says eventually, fracturing the stillness. He sounds so– distraught that Yusuke looks up, a half-formed reassurance already on his tongue. But…he's the one who did this. The words die behind pursed lips. "I– I was panicking. I know it's no excuse…"

“…Coulda just turned me down like a regular person," he suggests lightly, trying for levity. Kurama just wilts a little more at the (sort-of) joke, head tipping down and shading his eyes behind his bangs. Yusuke's left scuffing his shoe against the paving stones awkwardly.

Silence.

Gods, does he hate not knowing what to do. He's rallying himself to ask for– no, demand – those answers he was promised, or, or be more pissed off about the whole thing, anything really– when Kurama breaks the silence first.

He stands up straight, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking towards the sunset. "…It's almost time." Whether he was talking to Yusuke, or just to himself, he can’t tell. "I never wanted to keep secrets from you," Kurama continues a moment later, raising his voice just enough to indicate that he's speaking to be heard. "I thought…if I found someone who was out of the house at night– someone whose schedule I could predict and avoid– it would be easier." Yusuke thinks he sees a tiny, mirthless smile quirk at the corners of his lips. "But then…"

Kurama finally turns to regard him in the dying light. He's so damn pretty– even with circles under his eyes and a painful, almost desperate twist knitting his brows, lacing his every word– Yusuke feels his own breath stutter at the sight. How could someone like him be real?

"…You were so charming, Yusuke, and smarter than you even realize, and so– so willing to overlook how difficult I could be," his voice falters as he brushes a lock of hair behind his ear, only for it to fall right back down. Yusuke thinks he opens his mouth to say something– to protest that he's not smart, not at all, or that Kurama isn't difficult– but the redhead continues. "I should have found someone else. I think I knew, even when we first met at the café, that I wouldn't be able to distance myself."

He takes the steps down from the porch with one hand gliding on the railing, and Yusuke steps back unconsciously to keep a space between them. The last rays of light are fading fast; even closer to, he can no longer make out the redhead's expression clearly. "But…why?" he manages, voice small and thin against the tension in the air.

"I…" Kurama shakes his head and tries again. "I'm out of time. Please…please don't be afraid."

Wh– Afraid of what –??

Yusuke doesn't get the chance to ask. As soon as he takes a breath to, one foot still behind him in a ready stance, Kurama's whole form shivers. And then–

Ears.

His mouth falls open as impossibly, undeniably, reddish ears sprout from Kurama's hair– and the redhead just stands there, his hands in his pockets, even as he seems to start folding in on himself. Right before his eyes, in a matter of seconds, he goes from a couple inches taller than Yusuke to…

To looking up at him from the ground. Except. Except he– it–

There's a fox sitting where Kurama had been just seconds ago.

Yusuke stares. That… He– he's seeing things, he has to be. But the fox is still there after he blinks a couple of times, still as a statue and staring right back at him.

Then it moves. He stumbles back a pace, sneakers scraping against the paving stones, but the fox just hovers– like it's trying not to spook him – before slowly laying down.

Kurama's gone. He was standing right there– and now– …Now there's a fox looking up at him with its ears folded flat against its head.

After a few tense moments, it gives a tiny, soft whine.

The noise breaks the silent spell over them. "A-am I…having a stroke or something," Yusuke blurts out, feeling at his forehead with the back of his hand. This– this didn't make sense. Where the fuck did Kurama go?! One minute, they're talking outside, and the next he's– he's hallucinating, like he had to have been last night–

Wait. Last night. The– the ears, the tail, his fucking face–

"…Kurama??" Yusuke croaks.

The fox thumps his tail against the ground once or twice. It's still watching him, belly against the dirt– clearly trying to look as docile and nonthreatening as possible.

Holy shit.

"Holy shit," Yusuke echoes out loud, and then his legs threaten to actually give out on him. He stumbles sideways towards the stairs, not taking his eyes off the f– off Kurama?– for even a second. "Holy shit. You're a fox. You're a fox?"

He feels like he's gonna be faint.

The fox sits up in obvious concern as he drops onto the front steps. His mouth seems to have assumed control from his brain, given that his brain is doing absolutely nothing of use, because he hears himself rambling, "No. No, I must be– I must be having an episode, or something. Mmmaybe it's the blood loss or, or just the stress or–"

His mouth shuts with a click as the fox pads over cautiously, watching him for a reaction the entire time, and rests his chin on Yusuke's knee.

Then he whines again. The bushy, orange-red tail slowly swishes against the ground.

Yusuke never had a pet as a kid. Couldn't afford another mouth to feed, according to his Ma, and he was too young to take care of another living creature back then, anyway. But right now, it's blatant even to him what this fox is trying to say with every fiber of its being: 'Please don't be afraid. Am not a threat.'

"Th-that's really cute and all, but. What the fuck?" he repeats, hands hovering somewhere around his shoulders. "Kurama?" The fox's ears twitch forward at the name. "Kurama."

Another sound, but not a whine this time. It almost sounds like– like if a fox were trying to go 'Mmhmm.' It's so ridiculous Yusuke snorts a little at the noise, and then the fucking fox is looking up at him with such a put-out expression that he starts laughing, in spite of himself.

Maybe he's experiencing a complete break from reality. Who fucking knows.

When the (mildly hysterical) fit passes, the fox is still sitting in front of Yusuke, clearly waiting him out. He takes a deep, whooshing breath and says, "You know what, fine," with an edge of humor, raking his hair back with his hands. "I actually talked to Kuwa about you being a vampire before. This shit? This makes a lot more sense. Even if it's still fucking batshit."

He startles a little when the fox– when Kurama yips at him. "Yeah, a vampire," Yusuke retorts right back. "What the fuck was I supposed to think? You were fuckin'… Prince Charming when we met, and then you turned into some kinda hermit Mr. Hyde after I moved in– I know I mixed up my fuckin' stories, shut up," he adds as the fox raises an eyebrow at him. "You don't even have eyebrows, that expression shouldn't work!"

Another yip. Kurama stands and ducks his head and front paws down like a dog, tail wagging.

Yusuke watches him do it again, a grin spreading across his face. This whole situation– sitting outside, in the dark, talking to a godsdamn fox that was apparently also his housemate – is completely batshit.

There's a very real possibility he's in the middle of a mental breakdown, but…fuck it.

"I don't speak fox, sorry," he laughs. Kurama yips, claws clacking against the stone as he does the strange hopping-bow again, and Yusuke gets up. It's a little disconcerting trying to connect this high-energy, hyper-expressive creature with calm, reserved Kurama, but then…maybe it's not such a stretch, at the same time. "Come on, it's freezin' out here."

The fox follows him up the porch steps and nearly knocks Yusuke over as he barrels around his legs through the door. His tail's wagging like mad, and he's making what he can only assume are excited vocalizations. Kinda sounds like a cartoon hyena, if he's honest.

He disappears into the kitchen while Yusuke's still getting his shoes off. Well. "You hungry or something?" he calls down the hall. Kurama pokes his head around the corner, panting, and makes another couple sounds at him. "Okay, alright, I'm coming."

The fox leads him around the kitchen island towards the side door, looking back as if making sure he's watching. Then he noses his way out through the dog door– only to immediately turn around and come back inside. "…Oh my god. I locked you out, didn't I?" More yipping. "Well how was I supposed to know?!"

Kurama ducks through the door and then back in again, staring up at him expectantly. Yusuke blinks, trying to put it together. Then it dawns on him.

"Wait, were you the– Oh my god! It was you! " The noise the fox makes as he connects the dots is almost too loud for the space, hopping on his front paws and– barking?– at him. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Fuck, I must have scared the shit out of him, too. Yusuke had (unwillingly) replayed the conversation after that night about a million times, trying to figure out why it had felt so stilted. All he'd come up with was that the guy must have been really tired, and maybe it actually was no big deal to have wild animals traipsing into the house now and again.

Now, the way the redhead had almost sounded defensive of said wild animal makes total sense. "He was probably just as spooked as you."

"Shit, man, I didn't know! And it was mega cold out too– Ugh, I'm sorry. You're not mad about that still, are you?" The fox's tail hasn't stopped wagging this entire time, so Yusuke can only assume he's not trying to bring it up because he's still pissed. It's just that those sharp, high noises are kiiind of alarming. "Okay, hang on. Uh. We need some way to communicate. Obviously you can't like, talk, so… Bark once for yes, twice for no?" he offers. Kurama cocks his head at him and quiets.

Then he barks once.

We're in business. "Awesome! So like. Are you uh. Are you mad about that whole thing? When I locked you out?" One bark. Yusuke cringes, but then he barks a second time– like he had to think about it first. "Yeah, that's fair. So is that why you kept unlocking the dog door? So you could go outside?"

The fox does that raised eyebrow thing again, but he gives the affirmative Yusuke laughs a little, still reeling about the sheer ludicrousness of his life in this moment, and turns towards the fridge. Mental breakdown or no, he's fucking hungry.

He nearly overbalances and falls into the shelves when a furry, solid body knocks against his back. Kurama noses up beside him, which is vaguely alarming for a split second– he is a fox, after all– but he seems to just want to watch Yusuke rummage around. "…Do you seriously not have anything alcoholic in here?"

Two little yippy sounds. Yusuke groans and pulls out the last of his takeout from work. He could seriously go for a beer or something, after the kind of mind-fucking upset the last twenty-four hours have been, but…whatever.

Kurama vocalizes again once the microwave's going. When Yusuke looks over, he does this thing where he rubs his paw across his snout. "What?" The fox repeats the motion and whines, blinking up at him expectantly. "My face?" Bark. "…What, are you tryna tell me not to drink because my face is fucked up?" Bark. "Yeah, well…whose fault is that? " Kurama's ears droop at the retort and Yusuke snorts.

He gets his food and wanders into the living room, which is still a little unkempt from marathon cramming. The couch cushions are in disarray, and there's some stray papers and the like strewn across the coffee table. Yusuke brushes them off to one side and sits heavily, grabbing the remote. The moment he relaxes into the firm, plushy cushions, it's like all his energy just dissipates.

What a fucking day.

He got clawed across the face by his housemate, got picked up by his best friend's boyfriend or whatever, spent the night smoking menthols and hanging out with a vampire, slept in, got the first text message he's ever received from said housemate, came home and watched the guy turn into a fox. A fox that's looking at him with his tail between his legs as he comes around the couch, claws clacking on the wood floor.

It takes Yusuke a minute to figure out why Kurama's giving him that guilty puppy look.

"Oh, dude, I was kidding." He sits up to grab his chopsticks and the fox gives a single sad tail-swish, so he continues, "I mean. We're definitely gonna talk about that some more later, but… I guess I kinda understand why you freaked out, now."

Kurama still looks all guilty about it, but eventually hops onto the other end of the couch– being careful of his claws on the upholstery– and settles down. Yusuke watches him get comfy for a minute, then turns on the TV for some noise and starts eating before his food goes cold.

Speaking of talking; there were about a hundred things to unpack from what Kurama had said, earlier. Yusuke chews over what he can remember. It's a little fuzzy, given that he'd been a little busy losing his shit after the whole turning into a fox thing, but…

"I never wanted to keep secrets from you. …You were so charming, Yusuke…I knew I wouldn't be able to distance myself."

That…sure sounded like something. Yusuke looks at the fox again. Kurama's watching him, chin resting on his paws, and he thinks the fox might have scooted closer while he wasn't paying attention. His tail swishes a little when Yusuke looks at him, but his ears are still droopy. Alright, then.

He keeps eating, eyes on the TV without really seeing any of it– and then whips his head around when he feels the fox shuffling over again. Kurama freezes like they're playing 'red light, green light', blatantly trying to stealth-scoot closer.

"…Did you…want some?" Yusuke holds up his chopsticks, but the fox shakes his head and puts a paw forward, tentative. He shrugs and takes another bite. "Suit yourself."

After another minute or so, Kurama seems to shed his reservations. He shuffles the rest of the way across the cushions until he can rest his head on Yusuke's lap.

Yusuke stares down. Kurama sighs in a distinctly dog-like way, making himself comfortable. "…Aaaalright. Just when I think shit can't get weirder," he remarks, half to himself, as he watches the fox's tail slowly swish across the cushions. Yeah. We definitely need to talk.

"Hey, you uh…you're gonna turn back into a person later, right?"

A huff.

"…I'll take that as a yes. Well good, 'cause I have like fifty more questions now, and you promised to gimme some answers."

Kurama huffs again and nuzzles the side of his face into Yusuke's leg. 'Yes, yes. Later.'

The thing about having several world-tilting revelations in a row– right after finishing his third semester of finals, no less– was that it was apparently exhausting. Yusuke ends up dozing off shortly after he's done eating.

Part of it's probably due to the warm, solid mass against his thigh; the fox that was apparently also his housemate hadn't budged an inch after settling his head in Yusuke's lap. He leans forward from the waist awkwardly to put his plate on the coffee table, one furry ear flicking against his arm as he does so, and then…he drifts.

In his hazy half-dreams, Yusuke comes home to confront his housemate– only to find that the Minamino house has somehow become abandoned in a state of serious disrepair while he was away. It's only one story now, and there're boards on all the windows. The front door hangs from the hinges crookedly, creaking in the wind.

Then the landscape shifts, and it's summertime. The house is fine. Yusuke drifts, somewhere above the ground but below the trees, as a little girl bounds down the front porch towards the woods, rucking her kimono up with her fist to run better. He tries to call to her that the woods are dangerous, which doesn't make sense– it's just a tiny grove of trees before you reach the street– but no sound comes from his mouth. Instead the world moves around him, so that he's halfway seeing through her eyes, half observing from a distance.

The girl freezes when she– and Yusuke– spot it in the distance. A tall, pale figure, robes floating diaphanously in the breeze even though the air is still. Still and quiet. He turns to look at them, and his eyes are startlingly gold.

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzz!

Yusuke snaps awake.

The warm bundle on his lap startles with him, hopping down off the couch as his pillow rouses. The events of the evening come back to Yusuke in a disorienting rush as he stares at the fox– at Kurama, right, fuck– and then his phone goes off again, demanding his attention.

It's Kuwabara. Oh boy.

"H'llo?"

"Urameshi, what the heck?! You said you'd text if everything was alright, you jerk!"

He winces at his friend's volume, pulling the phone away from his ear. "Okay, okay. Ease down on the shouting, man."

"Ease down on th–?! I'm gonna beat your ass, you inconsiderate–"

There's a scuffle on the other side. Yusuke watches Kurama watching him, big ears swiveling, and a different voice comes on after a moment.

"Yusuke. Status?"

"Hey, Hiei. I'm fine."

A grunt. "Did you speak to your housemate?"

"Er, yeah." The fox perks up, making it that much more obvious that he's listening in. "Yeah, we talked it out."

"And?"

"Aaaand everything's fine. Listen, I'll talk to you guys later, alright?"

Silence.

"…If you can't explicitly say you need help right now, say 'Ten o'clock.' "

Yusuke snorts. "It's fine, Hiei. For real."

"Understood."

The line disconnects after that, cutting off Kuwabara's muffled protests to give the phone back. Yusuke shakes his head in exasperation. Hiei's a serious little fucker when it comes to safety, he has to give him that much.

Kurama's watching him expectantly. "Friends of mine. They uh, they were worried about me coming back here after all this," he gestures at his face, and the fox predictably wilts, folding his ears and lowering his head. "Dude, I said it's fine. I mean, it's not fine fine, especially if this shit ends up scarring or– No, stop, don't do the puppy eyes thing, I can't handle it," Yusuke whines, turning away and covering his eyes for dramatic effect.

It works, because a moment later, Kurama whines piteously– and then there's a wet nose nudging under his hand. He wags his tail and tips his nose up, vocalizing again, and Yusuke chuckles as he gives in to the blatant soliciting for pets.

"…Kuwa's gonna ream me, next time we see each other," he muses aloud. "What do I even tell him? 'Oh, it's cool dude, my housemate was just freaking out because he didn't want me to know he turns into a fox sometimes. No worries.' That'll go over real well."

Kurama just pants and tilts his head for more. Some help he is. Sighing, Yusuke reaches to scritch behind his ears with both hands. "I have to tell them something. Hiei's sharp as a knife, and Kuwa'll just fuckin' know I'm not being straight with him. Not that I'm ever straight," he adds with a snicker.

If the fox gets the double entendre, Yusuke doesn't get to see his reaction– the phone goes off again, making the fox startle. He ducks out of the way as Yusuke picks it up off the coffee table.

It's– fuck, it's his job.

Yusuke gets up so fast, he almost stumbles over Kurama, the coffee table, and the couch. Shit fuck– "Uh, h-hello?"

"Urameshi, are you on your way? Your shift was supposed to start an hour ago."

"Oh my gods, I am so sorry," he blurts out, booking it to the foyer and taking the stairs two at a time. There's a ton of background noise– Mr. Nishimura sounds harried. "I was– I–"

"I know you just got done with school, so I'm willing to overlook it this once. Just get here quickly."

"I will, Sir, I'm on my way–" he bangs his foot against the doorframe as he shoulders into his room, smothering a pained curse.

"Good, thank you."

The line hangs up and then Yusuke curses vehemently, tossing the phone on his bed. Motherfucker! He had work tonight, how could he forget?!

Kurama's standing in the open doorway, looking very lost, when Yusuke looks up from shoving a leg into his work pants.

The fox turns his head away politely. "Hey, uh– turns out I was supposed to be at the restaurant, like, an hour ago," Yusuke explains hastily. Fuck, what's he gonna do about his face?? "So like– I'm gonna book it and hope Mr. Nishimura isn't getting swamped with orders, cool?"

Gods, and it's Saturday. It's fine, he works back of house. The only person that'll see him is his manager. And the cook, fuck. What the fuck does he say? Yusuke pats his pockets quickly– keys, wallet, phone– and teeters out of the room, still cursing under his breath.

A single, sharp bark stops him before he reaches the stairs.

"What's up dude, I really don't–" Kurama's standing in front of his own door, ears folded. He jerks his snout at the door and whines. "…Oh, right. You don't, you don't have thumbs. Okay, here–"

He beelines across the hall in a few quick strides to open the door for him. Kurama gets up and trots inside, and in spite of himself– and the fact he's running an hour late – Yusuke can't help but pause to peer inside.

Kurama's room is dark, so he can't really see a whole lot. He watches the fox trot up the stripe of light from the hall, towards the far wall where there's an honest-to-gods dog bed set up.

He turns around once, twice, and then flops down in a ball on it. Dark eyes peer up at Yusuke over his bushy tail. "Okay, that…is the cutest thing I've ever fucking seen," he blurts out.

Kurama uncurls his tail enough to thump it against the bed.

Time to fucking book it, dumbass. "I'll just uh, I'll leave this open then?" The fox gives a single, warbling yip of assent. Yusuke looks back one last time– fuck, that's cute– before he goes back to rushing down the stairs, shoving his feet into his shoes, and then jogging the entire, freezing way to work.

The restaurant is swamped. Yusuke gets his apron on and jumps on the line with the evening cook. The guy's too relieved to even mention his face; the next hour is a whirl of sauteing, flipping, and plating things as fast as they can, fighting to survive the evening rush.

Saturday nights can kiss Yusuke's ass.

By the time they get a chance to breathe, he has to stop and process for a second after the other cook asks what happened. "Huh? …Oh, shit, right. I uh, I just–" Yusuke scrambles, fried brain trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. "I wasn't paying attention, and I uh, I slipped on some ice. Into the bushes."

The look the guy gives him is… skeptical at best, but then the order monitor dings and there's no time to question it– a group of motherfucking forty just came in. Saved by the salarymen, Yusuke thinks in harried relief, ducking back to his station.

He tries to polish his really flimsy explanation while they work through the dozen fucking appetizers, entrees, and then desserts for the giant party. He was right; it's an office mixer. The noise from the dining room reaches all the way to back of house for well over two hours.

Thankfully, the evening shift leaves around the same time the bar closes on Saturdays. Yusuke makes himself busy cleaning up and taking out the trash, dutifully avoiding any further conversation with the other cook. The dude seems to get the message, because he just does his closing duties in semi-awkward silence before leaving.

Yusuke gets no reprieve. Mr. Nishimura himself comes into the kitchen to help, once he's on his own, and the older man's eyes widen behind his glasses the moment he sees his overnight cook's face. "What on earth –"

"Yeah, uhh, funny story actually…"

The story he ends up going with is– it's plausible, he thinks. Yusuke was heading back home, right, and he was so out of it after exams that he took a wrong turn and ended up walking along the river. Except it was dark outside, and there was– there was totally a patch of ice by the bridge to get back. Yusuke slipped, and when he tried to catch himself, he ended up going face-first into the bushes along the sidewalk. Specifically the left side of his face first.

His manager shakes his head, half his attention on refilling sauce bottles as Yusuke relays the grand tale. When he's done, he clicks his tongue a couple times and says, "You really ought to pay more attention, going home at night."

Yusuke smothers a sigh of relief and scratches at his jaw below the bandages. "Y-yeah, I know. I'll try to be more aware and sh–stuff."

The rest of the night passes without much incident, thank the gods. Once the late-late crowd peters out, Yusuke scrubs the floors, wipes down the countertops until they shine, and even cleans the grease traps to keep himself occupied for the following hours.

Maybe too occupied– when he's well and truly out of shit to do, twiddling his thumbs on the line and watching the clock, Nishimura comes back. "Urameshi."

"–Yes, sir?"

The older man looks him up and down again, making Yusuke squirm against the urge to fidget. "Great work tonight," he says after a moment. "I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, and I appreciate the effort to make up for running late. You're a good kid."

"Er…thank you, sir," he bows hastily. What the fuck what the fuck–

"Don't mention it. And, ah..a word of advice, from one man to another," Yusuke looks up a little too early to be polite. "Next time you get in a fight, come up with a better excuse. There's no ice on the sidewalks yet."

He feels his ears heating and ducks his head again, chagrined. "Y-yes, sir, sorry."

Nishimura makes a dismissive noise. "Go home and clean up your face. Morning shift's gonna be here any minute."

Yusuke re-wipes the counters, bags the trash, and straightens all the line stations in record time. When he gets out onto the sidewalk, he heaves a sigh of relief so loud, he wouldn't be surprised if his boss heard him from inside.

That had to be the most stressful shift ever. No fuckin' contest. And Mr. Nishimura! "A word of advice, from one man to another." What was that all about?? 'Cause to Yusuke, it sounded a helluva lot like the old geezer had gotten into his own share of scraps, back in the day.

Well…at least he'd come up with his own explanation.

If Yusuke thought he was wiped out before, he was thoroughly mistaken. By the time he gets back to the Minamino house, half-frozen and very nearly dead to the world, he almost doesn't remember the clusterfuck of that evening. That is, until he looks up and sees a fox bounding down the drive to meet him.

"Fuck–! dude, that's gonna take some getting used to," he breathes, one hand on his chest. Alright, well… Either he's still delusional, or this is actually happening.

Kurama yips and vocalizes at him as they head up the drive together, running circles around Yusuke's legs until he almost trips over him. After that, the fox follows behind, tail wagging hard enough to audibly displace the air. "What, were you lonely or something?" he remarks, stumbling through the front door.

Bark.

"…You're a lot more talkative as a fox, y'know. Or… open, I guess," he amends, padding toward the living room in his socks. The stairs sound like way too much effort right now.

Yusuke faceplants onto the couch with a tired groan, reeling at the feeling of being off his feet at last. Gods. He could sleep right here. He had, earlier, for all the good it did.

He cracks an eye open when he hears claws tapping across the floor– and then rears back as Kurama licks his cheek. "Dude, nasty!"

The fox just vocalizes, sounding almost like a chicken(?) and panting at Yusuke expectantly. Before he can figure out what he wants– or ask, more like– the fox's ears swivel and he looks off to the side suddenly.

Then he bolts in that direction. A second later, he thinks he hears the flap of the dog door swinging. …Alright, then. Yusuke wipes his face with his jacket sleeve and fwumps back down on the couch cushions.

He ends up falling asleep like that as the living room slowly begins to brighten around him.

Some hours later, Yusuke's woken up by the smell of coffee and Kurama– normal, human Kurama– gently shaking his shoulder.

"My apologies, Yusuke, but I thought you might prefer not to wake up with a crick in your neck," he says gently, stepping back as Yusuke sits up and groans. Yeah…that was probably a good call. Two nights on a couch did not a happy back make.

The strange, fantastical events of the prior evening come back to him slowly as he accepts a cup of coffee from the redhead. Yusuke glances up as he takes a sip; his housemate looks a little ragged around the edges, but he's definitely not a fox. Maybe he really had just…had some kind of delusional episode last night.

Kurama stamps out his misgivings in short order. Despite the palpable nervousness coming off the redhead, he settles on the opposite end of the couch (the same place the fox had been) and delivers on the answers he had promised.

The story that unfolds as Yusuke drinks his coffee sounds like something out of a folktale– and in fact, some of it is. Turns out, the Minamino family has been kitsune-mochi for generations. Possessed by a fox spirit that would pass down the line, from one family member to the next, until they either died or fulfilled the bargain.

"From what I understand, it was a trade," Kurama explains. He's holding his coffee in his lap with both hands like it's a lifeline. "Prosperity and good fortune, in exchange for obtaining the one thing the kitsune could not, even with all his tricks: love."

Yusuke almost snorts incredulously- it really does sound like a fairytale. "So, what…this fox dude just possessed one of your ancestors until they fell in love?"

"Precisely. But the fox wasn't satisfied, being the kind of spirit he was. And so the curse moved down the line to their children, and then their children's children, on and on until the present day."

That's…a lot to swallow. If he hadn't literally seen his housemate turn into a fox in front of him, Yusuke would probably be grabbing his shit and heading for the hills, right about now.

Judging by Kurama's hunched-in, hesitant demeanor, he guesses that might actually have been the case in the past.

"So you just…change into a fox at night?"

"From dusk to dawn."

Yusuke frowns after awhile, setting his empty mug on the coffee table. Something isn't adding up; if Kurama was trying not to get found out, why put up an ad for a housemate in the first place?

The answer ends up being pretty practical. "The family account is in good shape– good enough to simply live on for the rest of my life, if I so wished. But I felt…like that would be a waste, both of my family's money, and my own life. I don't want to be a hermit hiding away from the world, but…you can imagine how impossible it is to have any sort of life, with this curse."

He could. Just working overnight had punched a hole through Yusuke's life– one that he was struggling to fill even now. And that had been his own choice. "You were lonely," he guesses.

Kurama's lips quirk self-deprecatingly. "Perhaps. My logic seemed sound at the time– if I couldn't be a normal, functioning member of society, then at least I could have something like it. A housemate seemed a decent start, maybe even a way to test how much I could do within my limitations.

"But then– well. As I said before. I wasn't expecting you to be so… you," he finishes helplessly, looking away. In the soft, diffused light streaming in from the windows, Yusuke thinks he sees a dusting of pink across the redhead's cheeks.

Now that the whole, fantastical story is out, it's like a weight has been lifted– and Kurama's waiting to see if it'll come crashing back down on him, like Yusuke suspects it has in the past.

"Musta been pretty hard," he says after a couple of beats, shifting a little closer. "Living all alone in this big house, after your Ma passed away."

Kurama smiles softly, and the quiet anticipation hanging over him seems to lighten. "…It was. Squirrels make for poor conversation partners, when they think you're going to eat them."

It's so random, so left-field and frankly silly, that laughter spills from Yusuke before he can bottle it. After a moment, Kurama starts chuckling too– and that just makes him laugh harder, cringing through the sting as his chortling tugs at the scratches across his face.

The redhead picks up on it immediately and sobers. "I know I apologized before, but I'm so sorry for lashing out at you."

Yusuke waves him off, trying to get it together. Fuck, that hurts– it's gonna be an absolute bitch hanging out with Kuwa and Hiei, if just laughing a little makes his face twinge like this. When he's quelled his giggling best he can, he says, "It's fine, dude. I get it now– you were freaking out. I shouldn'tve cornered you." An old adage about cornering a fox comes to mind, and Yusuks winces as his grin makes the scratches pulse with pain.

"Even so, I– Are you bleeding?" Kurama cuts himself off in alarm. Before Yusuke fully realizes what's happening, the redhead is moving into his space, setting his neglected coffee aside to take his chin in hand.

The sudden, unexpected proximity makes Yusuke's breath catch. He holds himself perfectly still while Kurama examines his face up close, thoughts stalling on just how soft the other man's fingers are. He smells really good, like pine trees and something faintly earthy, this close to.

The redhead catches his gaze after a few tense, quiet seconds, and emerald eyes soften a fraction.

Gods, he's pretty.

Yusuke starts to lean in without really thinking about it. Distantly, he hears alarm bells going off in his mind– what are you doing, dumbshit, now is not the time– but he ignores them, eyes slipping shut as he closes the space between them.

Kurama gasps, a sharp little intake of breath, as their lips touch. Welp– RIP to the other side of my face, Yusuke thinks, pulling back quickly. The redhead looks startled when he opens his eyes.

Then he surges forward, and their lips meet again roughly. It's Yusuke's turn to gasp, because Kurama kisses him back with an almost needy fervor, hand sliding from his chin to cup the back of his head. Wait – holy shit holy shit holy –

It's messy, and their mouths don't quite slot together right; that is, until Kurama pries himself away just enough to tilt his head. They come together again like that, and then it's perfect.

Yusuke slides his tongue against the seam of the redhead's mouth, asking wordlessly for more. Kurama tastes like coffee, even though he hardly touched his mug while they were talking, and his lips are a little chapped, but it's so good.

Instead of yielding, though, the redhead pulls back. "Wait, Yusuke–" He tips his head away as he leans forward, chasing his lips for more. "You really are bleeding, we need to change your bandages…"

His heart's absolutely pounding in his throat. Yusuke makes a frustrated sound around it and slumps, good side of his face against Kurama's shoulder. …When had they practically climbed into each other's laps, again? "Let it. You just basically confessed to me, dude, I don't give a shit if I'm bleeding a little."

He hears the redhead's laughter rumble through his chest, warm and light and tremulous. "Flattering as that is, I would feel awful if you bled out on my couch. Come on."

"I can move to the floor. Bloodstains are a bitch to get out," he mumbles, sitting upright anyway at the other man's urging.

That gives Kurama pause. "Wh– I meant I'd feel awful about you, not the couch. Honestly, Yusuke…"

Yusuke snickers and gets up to follow him to the bathroom. The room tilts disconcertingly once he's upright, which ought to be more worrisome– but Yusuke can't find it in him to give a shit, after having just had one of the best kisses of his life a minute ago. And now, with the casual sort of camaraderie between them– so like that handful of times he felt like he was seeing the 'real' Kurama– Yusuke feels like he's floating. He probably wouldn't realize it if he were bleeding out.

Kurama gets him sat on the edge of the tub and fetches a first-aid box from the cabinet. It reminds Yusuke of watching Kuwa dig around for his own kit, fuzzy with the clarity of a half-remembered dream. "Do you want to take off the old bandages yourself?"

Yusuke nods and stands to do it in the mirror, reeling again. Oh, he is bleeding– the scratches closer to his mouth have started spotting through the bandages. Kurama hovers, like he's ready to catch Yusuke if he falls over, but he just steadies himself before finding an edge to yank from.

Fuck, that stings. "Fffff–nghh– alright. Alright, patch me up, doc." He sits down heavily, tossing the used bandages in the bin.

Kurama fusses over him with a much better bedside manner than Kuwabara had, dabbing at his cheek first with an antiseptic, then some neosporin that soothes the resulting burn. Yusuke has to resist looking at the redhead's lips as he works, focusing instead on the furrow between his brows. It gets deeper whenever he flinches, so he focuses on holding still.

When he starts applying some butterfly closures ( fancy ), Yusuke realizes his hands are trembling. "Hey, uh…you okay?" It's a little awkward, trying to talk while he's being bandaged up– but Yusuke has the awful thought that maybe he'd been too forward earlier, and he has to ask.

Kurama looks at him like he has lobsters crawling out of his ears. "You're literally bleeding, and you ask if I'm alright," he says like he has to confirm that it is, in fact, happening. But– yeah, his voice is wavering, too.

"No, I mean–" Yusuke has to pause while the redhead positions another butterfly closure near his mouth. The guy had kissed back– and pretty damn enthusiastically, too– but then… Why the nerves? "You're kinda…shaking?" Kurama draws back after he finishes applying the bandage, looking down at his own hands in apparent surprise. "Was I too forward, or–?"

"–What? No," he balks. Yusuke feels the ugly knot in his stomach untwist. "No, I– I thought I was the one being forward."

"You? How the fuck," he blurts out incredulously. " I was the one practically chasing you down. Hell, I wall-pinned you right before all this," he jerks a thumb at his own face, and the redhead winces at the mention (even though he's literally playing nurse right now). "I was, I was frickin' convinced I was just desperate and reading wayyyy too much into the couple of times we like, actually talked."

It feels way too quiet after Yusuke finally gets the reins on his mouth and stops babbling. He glances up furtively, hoping Kurama's not looking at him like he sprouted a second head again, and at that, the redhead starts chuckling. That…isn't exactly the most reassuring reaction to admitting he felt like an incel. But then he bends down to press a smiling kiss to Yusuke's uninjured cheek, and his scuffed pride shuts right up.

"I'm sorry for all that, as well," Kurama says softly, as he draws back. "It must have been…confusing, to say the least, trying to figure out my contradictory behavior."

"…A little, yeah," he admits. "I mean– it makes sense now. You were trying not to get too close." All the times he felt like he was seeing the 'real' Kurama– as opposed to the quiet, cagey recluse version– were genuine. It's an encouraging thought. With that in mind, Yusuke gives a big, cheesy grin. "Turns out I'm just that charming, eh?"

Kurama almost sticks the bandaid on his forehead, as a surprised laugh tumbles out of him. "What? You said so yourself!" Yusuke eggs him on, snickering a little. Gods, he's so fucking happy they can goof off like this– even after that disastrous confrontation and everything that came after.

"True enough," Kurama shakes his head fondly and finally gets the last bandage on. "Goodness, what a pair we were– each thinking we were the one coming on too strong."

Once he's satisfied with his patch job, the redhead startles him right back by leaning down to kiss him again. Yusuke makes a surprised sound against chapped lips, before reciprocating eagerly. This time, Kurama doesn't draw back when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss– though he is mindful of Yusuke's injuries as he slides his hands around to the nape of his neck, holding him like he's something precious.

For a brief, blissful eternity, the world fades out around them until all that exists is the soft slide of lips and tongue. The sound of their breathing. Kurama's fingers carding through his hair. And most of all, a bright, consuming swell of relief and joy.

That is…until Yusuke tips backward, taking the shower curtain with him, and lands directly on his tailbone with an absolute cacophony of noise.

The next day, it starts to snow.

If Yusuke was worried about things going back to the way they'd been before (he was), those fears are soundly laid to rest. Now that the fox is out of the bag, so to speak, Kurama seems content to follow him around the house like a puppy.

It's cute.

"You know, you're a lot more open as a fox," Yusuke remarks as he's whipping up some omurice for them both.

Kurama glances up from the breakfast counter, a fresh cup of coffee and his book in front of him. He hums inquisitively. "How do you mean?"

"I dunno," he thinks about it as he folds the first omelet. "Just, it's a helluva lot easier to guess what you're thinking…or how you feel, I guess?"

Kinda hard to misinterpret things after he'd dozed off on the couch last night, only to wake up to a full-grown fox worming into his lap to lick his face excitedly. "Also, you have major dog breath, FYI," Yusuke adds when said fox doesn't reply right away, uncomfortable with his own question hanging in the air.

Kurama chuckles and closes his book, giving Yusuke his full attention. "Sorry. It's not as though anyone has been around to tell me as much– or mind, for that matter."

Fair enough. Yusuke turns the omelet he's working on and adds some cheese to melt over the top. "Riiight. Well, I'm gonna get one of those dog toothbrushes if you keep going for the face, dude."

Kurama's studiously watching the snow fall through the window, looking bashful. "I can try to stop, but…I make no guarantees. It's difficult to restrain my impulses, as a fox," he admits.

One plate of omurice, coming up. Yusuke plates the omelet and pours a zig-zag of ketchup across the top. "…I guess so long as you don't hump my leg, we're good," he cajoles, setting the plate in front of the redhead.

Kurama sputters. "Wh– I wouldn't –"

Yusuke laughs, daring to reach out and ruffle his hair the way he seemed to enjoy as a fox. They hadn't really talked about…well, about them after everything that'd happened.

After he tumbled backwards into the tub yesterday– spoiling the moment in true Yusuke fashion– the redhead had helped fix the shower curtain, finished patching him up, and then casually revealed he hadn't really slept since the night he clawed Yusuke across the face.

Considering that had been two days ago, it would've been pretty shitty of him to insist the guy stay up to make out more– er, to figure things out, that is.

Nonetheless. That left them in a kind of strange, uncertain limbo now. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Don't get your boxers in a bunch, fox boy."

Kurama looks up at the nickname, even as he's leaning forward for more pets (in the same manner as his furry counterpart). " 'Fox boy'?"

"Well, yeah. 'Cause you're a fox." He thought it was fairly obvious.

"Right. Sorry, it's just been awhile since anyone else knew about– all this. It's nice."

Yusuke turns to start working on his own omelet, nodding. "What, having someone to scratch behind your ears?"

A bashful laugh. "Yes, actually. And just…not needing to hide," Kurama adds earnestly. "After Mother passed away, it was just me– until you moved in, of course."

"You and the squirrels," Yusuke reminds him, making the redhead snort.

For a moment, it's quiet; Yusuke lost in thought as he turns his omelet, Kurama as he finally tries a bite of Yusuke's cooking.

The noise the redhead makes is almost erotic. "Yusuke, this is fantastic," he says (moans) between bites.

"Whaaaaaat? This is nothin'. Besides, I haven't even had the chance to stock up on spices yet." It wasn't as dire as, say, only having salt and pepper– but the situation in the Minamino household spice cabinet was not the best, either.

"You say that, and yet I would gladly pay for this at a restaurant," the redhead insists, scooting over to give Yusuke some space to sit next to him.

"Dude, anyone can make this stuff," he deflects. "Ask me to sautee you some steak one day."

Kurama looks up from his omurice at that, and it's so cartoonishly foxlike– to perk up immediately at the mere mention of meat– Yusuke can't help but snicker. "Alright, so steak is definitely a winner. Noted."

Yusuke's afternoon is pretty open after breakfast, it being winter break and all. He wonders what Kurama would have done if his big, furry secret hadn't come out. Would he have just…hidden in his room all day?

"Probably," the redhead confirms, digging through his closet for a second coat. He'd found out that Yusuke's winterwear was pretty much just his green windbreaker, with a hoodie underneath, and insisted on loaning Yusuke one of his own until he could buy a coat for himself.

Yusuke stands in the doorway into his room, unsure but also insanely curious about what his housemate's bedroom is like. He stops swiveling his head around like an owl when Kurama emerges from his closet with the aforementioned jacket. "I think I told you– I didn't exactly think through the idea of a housemate as thoroughly as perhaps I should have."

"Lucky for me," Yusuke grins, stuffing his hands in his pockets. At the other man's gesturing, he finally steps into his bedroom.

It's big– bigger than his own room, obviously– and surprisingly not as hyper-organized as Yusuke had imagined. There's a couple pieces of clothing that didn't quite make it into the laundry bin, scattered on the floor nearby; an empty mug teeters atop a small tower of books on the nightstand; and the dog bed is absolutely covered in reddish-orange fur.

What really catches Yusuke's attention, though, are the pictures. Crowded onto the far wall are probably over a dozen framed photos, of varying sizes and shapes, arranged in a slightly haphazard sort of way. But that's hardly the most interesting thing about them.

No, what draws Yusuke in to shamelessly snoop is that they look like family photos. The kind-faced lady from the Minamino altar– Kurama's mom, no doubt– is in just about every picture, along with either a red-haired, chubby-cheeked child, or…

"Holy crap, is this you as a baby fox??"

Kurama sets the coat on the bed and joins him, obviously torn between trying to draw Yusuke away, or letting him look. "Ah– it is, yes," he confirms eventually, apparently deciding the damage has already been done. "I moved these in here after deciding to put out the flier. Not exactly your run-of-the-mill family photos."

"No kidding," Yusuke agrees, leaning in for a closer look at one: it's baby fox-Kurama, laying on his back with his little paws in the air, blatantly soliciting belly rubs. The redhead in question hovers nearby in a embarrassment as he coos and awws. "Man, you were so tiny!"

Kurama rubs at his cheek. "Well…I was six when the curse moved to me. Fox kits reach maturity at a year old, but it seems the transformation favors the human side's development."

"Huh. That's kinda neat." He pulls his attention away from the pictures with a bit of difficulty. They're just– so cute. But Yusuke has questions, and this seems like an opportune moment. "So, did your Ma have the curse before you?"

Kurama turns to start fussing with the spare coat, obviously looking for something to do with his hands. A few beats pass– Yusuke's about to apologize for overstepping when he replies. "She did," he confirms. "She tried to hide it from me, too– but after my father passed away, that was almost impossible. Raising a small child alone would have been challenge enough."

Damn. Yusuke exhales harshly in commiseration. "Jeez– and then turning into a fox at night, on top of that. She must have been one helluva lady."

"She was," Kurama agrees fondly. He holds up the jacket for Yusuke to put on. "…I was actually the one to free her from the curse, the night I found out."

Yusuke turns around with one sleeve on to gawp at him. " You did? But I thought…"

It takes a second for him to figure out what Yusuke's confusion is about. " Oh, no– No, apparently familial love is enough to suffice, given that it's strong enough," Kurama elaborates, waving his hands.

" Oh. Okay, right. Sure."

"Yusuke, I'm offended you would think I was in love with my mother," Kurama frowns at him, but there's a glint of humor in his eyes and his tone. Yusuke makes a face at him (ow, stupid scratches) and finishes shrugging into Kurama's coat. It's a quilted dark green, with faux fur around the hood– and it's super cozy.

"What? This is all new to me, curses and bargains and, and kitsune and stuff. You just said love. You didn't say it could be any kind!"

"Not just any," Kurama amends, eyes roving over him consideringly. "My mother was married, recall. And even though Father loved her dearly, she was still kitsune-tsuki."

His jacket might be like, one size too big for Yusuke, but who cared. He tugs at the sleeves self-consciously, fighting the urge to fidget– or strike a pose. So of course, he cracks a joke. "…So basically, you're telling me you're the world's biggest mama's boy."

Kurama puts a hand to his forehead in exasperation, and then they both laugh.

In his own room, unheard and forgotten about, Yusuke's phone starts going off.

K: transcripts posted!!!

K: OH HELL YES I PASSED EVERYTHING

K: I'M OFFICIALLY A JUNIOR!

K: CRY HARDER SOPHOMORE

[ Missed Call (1) ]

K: urameshi?

[ Missed Call (2) ]

Now that he's a little better-equipped for the weather and the snow seems to have stopped (for the time being), Yusuke and Kurama head outside to…well…enjoy the snow.

The Minamino estate has transformed into a winter wonderland since he came home. Yusuke makes a soft sound of wonder, breath puffing from his mouth as fog. He's not the biggest nature guy around– not by a long shot– but this…this is beautiful.

He takes the steps down from the porch and then a few paces out, just taking it all in. Overhead, the sky's still cloudy and gray with the threat of more, but for now it's clear and peaceful out. The crunch of snow underfoot sounds almost loud, disturbing the air as much as the unbroken sheet of fresh snow. The copse of trees and brush around the estate are all blanketed, thinner branches seeming to sag under the weight. It looks like something you'd see on a postcard up north, not in the front yard.

It's like being at the park…except I just stepped outside. Hell, even better than the park; there's no playground equipment and no brats running around. Everything is hushed and still, like the whole world's sleeping under a fluffy white blanket.

With the kind of giddiness that only fresh snowfall can inspire, Yusuke turns to see what fox boy's up to…and narrowly dodges a snowball in the process. "Wh– Hey!"

"Shoot! I wasn't expecting you to move," Kurama looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, grinning guiltily.

Oh, it is on. Snickering, Yusuke dives down to start making ammunition. It's pretty outside, yeah, but that isn't the best part about snow. "Sure you weren't! Go on, throw snowballs at the injured guy's face. See what happens!" The best part is pelting it at each other.

To his credit, Kurama doesn't immediately shrink at the reference. He's trotting a few paces away for a proper snowball fight. "It's unwise to goad a fox, Yusuke. I know these grounds much better than you do," he calls right back.

"What, you gonna– gack!" Whatever he was gonna say, Yusuke forgets entirely as they start chucking snow at each other. Even though it's pretty damn chilly out, he starts to get a little sweaty under all his layers as they get into it, running to dodge each other's snowballs while also trying to get to fresh areas for making more. There's only a couple inches on the ground, but it's plenty to play.

Despite his earlier warning, Yusuke clearly has the advantage over the home team: Kurama's trying not to get him in the face, which is skewing his overall aim. He uses that to his advantage mercilessly, keeping the redhead on his left as best he can and pelting him with zero reservations.

The redhead wises up to his strategy pretty fast, though, and starts luring the game closer and closer to the edge of the woods where there's more cover. Fine by me, Yusuke thinks with a wild, infectious grin.

The copse of trees around the property could hardly even be called a forest– he can see the street down the slope, in some places– but it sure gets dense fast. Yusuke ducks behind a tree to avoid a snowball to the chest. When the coast is clear(ish), he starts for a better spot with some brush to give him an additional buffer.

That's when he trips.

Welp. This is how I die. At least, that's what he wants to think– in reality Yusuke doesn't have time for much except a startled OHSHIT–! before the ground rushes up to meet him.

He saves himself from the worst of it by falling on his shoulder and rolling onto his back, but that doesn't make it suck any less. Stupid roots! People only tripped on those in movies and shit, didn't it know??

"Yusuke!" Kurama shouts. He starts bounding over immediately, in true good sportsmanlike fashion, even though he is laughing a little. Yusuke hears him crunching across the snow and around the brush and thinks fast to save his pride. "Are you alrigh– gah!"

As soon as he's reach, Yusuke rolls into the redhead and takes him down with him, grabbing him about the legs and buckling his knees. Kurama crumples forward, catching himself with his hands so as to not fall directly on top of him. "Just as planned!" Yusuke crows, shoving himself up with one arm while trying to finish pushing the redhead to the ground.

Kurama doesn't go down without a fight. As soon as he realizes he's been had, he scoops up a mittenful of snow and haphazardly slings it at Yusuke, which does very little to stop him from trying to knock the guy down. He tumbles on his rear into the snow, and then all bets are off.

By the time they stop pelting loose snow at each other, they're both panting with exertion, breathless laughter turning to fog in the cold air. Kurama's cheeks are red and there's snow in his hair. Yusuke probably doesn't look much better, given the ticklish feeling of his bangs falling over his forehead as the gel starts to fail. But the loaned jacket is legit; only his jeans are starting to get damp from rolling around and wrestling.

Fuck it. Yusuke flops onto his back in the snow, limbs akimbo, to catch his breath. He's already a mess, anyway.

After a moment, he hears another fwump – but more than that Yusuke feels it, since Kurama scooted right up against his side before joining him on the ground. Warm breath puffs against his neck and cheek, in sharp contrast to the cold, making him shiver. "You cheated," Kurama declares without any real accusation.

"All's fair in love and war," Yusuke counters immediately. He blurts it out before he can think it through, and then freezes once the words are in the air.

It's quiet for a couple moments.

The sky's starting to get darker, but not from the time of day– it should only be three or four, now. No, it's definitely going to start snowing again. We should go inside, Yusuke thinks. But it feels like moving right now– breaking this still, hushed moment while they catch their breath and look up through the tree branches together– would be a crime. It feels like the quiet is listening, with his earlier statement hanging in the air still. Waiting for what happens next.

He feels Kurama take a breath, but it's another beat before he says anything. Like he has to rally himself. "So…You and I," the redhead starts, feeling out the words as he says them. There's another pause– he tips his head to rest in the crook of Yusuke's neck, hair strangely cold against his skin. "That is… I know I haven't been exactly forthcoming," he continues, haltingly.

Yusuke's laugh bubbles out as fog above them, heart rate ratcheting right back up. "…Dude, just say it– do you wanna go out?"

Silence for a beat. "…You just said it for me," Kurama points out. He sounds a little awestruck.

Yusuke snorts, pushing himself onto an elbow. The redhead has to sit up, too, since he was nestled up against him. There's a long moment where their eyes meet and they just…look at each other.

And then they're kissing, right there in the snow.

It's cold outside, and it's probably about to start snowing again any minute, and they're both in damp clothes, on the ground, in the middle of the woods. None of it seems to matter, compared to the warmth of their lips as they come together.

"…–ameshi! Urameshi! …"

Well, most of it doesn't seem to matter.

When the shouting becomes perfectly audible even to the distracted pair, Yusuke breaks off with a sigh and puts his head on Kurama's shoulder. "Dammit, Kuwabara," he mumbles long-sufferingly, lips feeling even colder than the rest of his face now. He left his stupid phone on the stupid charger when he got up this afternoon, didn't he?

Kurama pats his back. "Your friend, I assume?" Yusuke nods, coat crinkling against his forehead. "Then… Should I stay here while you go meet him?"

"Huh?" He looks up in confusion before remembering. Right– the thing with my face. "Fuck, I never gave them an explanation," Yusuke realizes, scrambling upright and holding out a hand for the redhead. " Shit. They saw it when I was still, like, bleeding and shit. They know you did it." What were they gonna say??

Kurama's frowning as he takes his hand to get up. "I don't suppose that sort of injury can occur from being slapped," he offers doubtfully, brushing snow from his clothes.

"No, not even my old girlfriend ever left a scratch." And she slapped him silly, back in the day.

The shouting is getting louder– he can hear Hiei's low, rumbling monotone now, probably telling Kuwabara to knock it off. "Then…" Kurama starts, but it's obvious he has no idea what to do, either.

Yusuke thinks fast. "Okay, listen. I think– I think we have to tell them. About you."

The redhead's eyes widen, ruddy lips parting on a protest. "But–"

"–Is there a reason you kept it a secret? Like, is that fox spirit going to rain hellfire if you spill the beans to too many people??"

"Well, no, but–"

Yusuke leans forward to kiss him again, quick and searing. Kurama responds in kind, almost in spite of himself, and when he pulls away Yusuke has to take a steadying breath. "Okay. Then– if you're comfortable with it, we should tell them. But only if you're okay with it," he emphasizes.

"Kuwa's my best friend, and Hiei's a pretty decent guy under all the crap. You can trust them." Kurama looks at him for a long, tense moment, clearly uncertain. Swallowing his nerves, Yusuke adds, "And I mean…if you and me are a thing, they're gonna figure something out eventually. Might as well get it out of the way, yeah?"

He reaches up to brush his fingers against the redhead's cheek, drawing his gaze back. He's biting his lip anxiously, and Yusuke can bet that the faint trembling under his touch isn't from the cold. "Hey. If you're not okay with it, then it's fine," he murmurs reassuringly, running his thumb along Kurama's cheekbone. "I dunno why you kept it a secret for so long, but…it'll be okay, either way."

The shouting stopped a minute ago– in fact, he can't hear either of them now. Probably because they reached the front door. Yusuke studies the redhead's face for a long moment, willing him to come to a decision.

He does.

"Alright," Kurama breathes. He tips his head, shoulders bowing, like all the wind's been taken out of him on that answer. Yusuke's brows furrow.

"You sure?"

Kurama steels himself. "Yes. Let's– let's tell them." He sounds nervous, but resolved. Yusuke nods, giving him another quick peck (because he can), and they start towards the Minamino house hand-in-hand.

Hiei sees them first. He's hanging back at the bottom of the porch steps while Kuwabara knocks (bangs) on the door with increasing force, the longer nobody answers. The little vampire gives Yusuke a nod, and then his eyes are on Kurama. He squeezes his hand reassuringly. "That's Hiei."

Carrot top turns around, probably to say something to his roommate, and that's when he realizes. "Wh– Urameshi! What the heck?!" he stammers, and then he almost slips on the steps, jogging the whole four feet to meet them.

"You always this rude when you visit other people's houses?" Yusuke drawls, enjoying the big guy's consternation a little in spite of everything. Hiei comes up beside and slightly behind Kuwabara– he's still watching Kurama with his freakish, owl-like stare.

"Yes, when that person happens to be the world's most inconsiderate jerk–"

"Is this him?" Hiei manages to interrupt Kuwa without so much as raising his voice. He glances down at Yusuke and Kurama's hands, then up to Yusuke, who nods.

Carrot top looks between the three of them. "Wait– you mean Urameshi's housemate? This is him??" Clearly, that changes things– Kuwabara puffs up a little as he looks at Kurama, who meets his gaze steadily.

Yusuke rolls his eyes. "Stand down, ya big ape. Yes, this is my housemate. Kurama, meet Kuwabara and Hiei."

Hiei gives a nod, but Kuwabara's eyeballing the redhead like he thinks he might sprout extra limbs any second. He sees their hands clasped together (excellent observation skills, this guy) and sputters again, pointing. "Wait– But– What?!"

"Can we continue this inside," the little vampire intones flatly, heading off yet another round of confused babbling. He's bundled so thoroughly, just about all that's visible are his scowling eyes. "It's starting to snow."

Shit, it is. The four of them hurry inside, and for a couple minutes the conversation is put on pause as everyone stamps the snow off their shoes and sheds a couple layers in the foyer. He and Kurama are both still damp from their snowfight– Yusuke tells the two to make themselves at home while they get into something dry, and then steers the redhead up the stairs.

Kurama hasn't said a word the entire time. "Hey. You okay?" Yusuke takes his wrist, stopping him in the hall.

"I'll be better once I'm out of these wet clothes," the redhead replies. His gaze is too skittish, though, shoulders taut. Yusuke frowns, but lets him go– they do actually need to change.

He checks his phone once he's in his room.

K: transcripts posted!!!

K: OH HELL YES I PASSED EVERYTHING

K: I'M OFFICIALLY A JUNIOR!

K: CRY HARDER SOPHOMORE

[ Missed Call (1) ]

K: urameshi?

[ Missed Call (2) ]

[ Missed Call (3) ]

K: dude wtf

K: if u dont pick up im having hiei drive us over to make sure ur not dead

[ Missed Call (4) ]

[ Missed Call (5) ]

[ Missed Call (6) ]

[ Missed Call (7) ]

A few of the missed calls are from Hiei's number. Well. At least if he actually went missing, Kuwabara would be the first to know– it's as annoying as it is comforting, having someone like that for a best friend.

Yusuke shakes his head fondly, stuffing his phone in the pocket of his jeans after he changes into a dry, probably clean pair. Kurama's jacket gets picked up from the floor to hang downstairs, and then– swiping his fingers through his hair, to no avail– he re-emerges from his room.

The redhead's waiting a little ways down the hall, already dressed. He opted for the oversized cream sweater, the one Yusuke's particularly fond of. No time for that, though– he also looks like he's about ready to bolt back into his room. "Hey. It's gonna be fine. I tolja."

Kurama takes his hand when Yusuke holds it out, giving him a wan smile. "I know. I just…"

He doesn't finish the thought. Whatever his hang-up was, it must have been some kind of trauma or something. Yusuke considers telling him they can just– come up with something on the fly, laugh it off– when Kurama gives his hand a squeeze and squares his shoulders. "It's fine. Let's go, before they start wondering what we're up to."

That– the soft, subtle playfulness– is what reassures Yusuke that he's good. "Maybe we should give them something to wonder about," he waggles his brows, making Kurama laugh a little, and they head back downstairs.

Kuwabara and Hiei are in the living room. One of them must have helped themselves to the kitchen, because there're three steaming mugs of cocoa on the coffee table- the fourth is in Hiei's hands, fingers wrapped around the ceramic for warmth. In true loudmouth fashion, carrot top starts as soon as they walk in. "Alright, Urameshi. What the heck is goin' on? The other day you looked like you got mauled by a bear. Now you're– dating this guy??"

Yusuke resists the urge to sigh or roll his eyes as he settles on the couch. Kurama takes the armchair next to him and reaches out for some cocoa immediately– prolly to keep his hands occupied. "Straight to the interrogation, I guess," he grouses, taking a mug for himself. Mmmm, cocoa. "Yeah…we're dating." Saying it out loud to someone else makes his heart do a little skip, circumstances be damned.

"And you didn't tell me?!"

" No, because it just friggin' happened!"

"You punk–"

"What of Friday's altercation?" Bless Hiei, stopping an argument before they got any momentum. Also fuck him, for cutting right to the quick– Kuwabara backs off immediately at that, apparently more curious for the answer than incensed by Yusuke's typical punk attitude.

Shit. They might've hastily agreed on telling them…everything, but now that he's on the spot, he doesn't even know how to start. "Well…y'see…"

"It was my fault," Kurama picks up, saving Yusuke as he starts to flounder. All eyes go to him, but he doesn't waver. "I believe Yusuke has mentioned my…standoffish behavior already. He was trying to speak with me, and when he tried to stop me from retreating to my room, I retaliated."

"By clawing him across the face," Hiei supplies, folding one leg over the other and looking pointedly at Kurama's non-pointed nails.

"He didn't mean to," Yusuke jumps to defend. "I was being a jerk, I shouldn'tve grabbed him like that–"

"–Regardless, it was I who lashed out in return. It was a lapse of judgement on my part."

"Okay, okay, you're both sorry or whatever," Kuwabara flaps his hand, cocoa sloshing dangerously in the other. "That still doesn't explain how the heck prettyboy managed to do that kinda damage!" Leave it to the ex-street brawler to focus on that kind of detail. Also– prettyboy?

Kurama ignores the moniker. "Yes, well. That is… Have either of you heard the tales of kitsune-tsuki?"

Kuwabara looks stumped, but Hiei sits up. "Spirit possession by a fox," he reiterates for clarity. Kurama nods. "You're saying you were possessed when you injured Yusuke?"

He sounds skeptical, at best. "Not like, totally," Yusuke tries to explain. "That's why he was trying to get to his room when I stopped him– he didn't want me to find out."

"Wait wait wait wait," Kuwabara cuts in, putting his cocoa down. "You're trying to tell us– that's crazy talk!" Out the corner of his eye, Yusuke sees Kurama bristle. Shit. "Kitsune and possessions and stuff are just old folk stories! At least come up with something believable, jeez."

"Why the fuck would I lie about this?" he snaps back.

"You tell me!" is the cheeky retort. Yusuke starts to get up, feeling his irritation rising into anger.

"I'll tell you with my fist up your–"

Kurama clears his throat loudly, and the both of them sit back down.

Churlish, he amends his response. "Listen. When was the last time I punked you, huh?"

"I dunno," Kuwabara replies, equally sullen. "High school, or somethin'."

"Alright, then why do you think I'm doin' it now?"

The big guy doesn't have an answer for that right away. He frowns down at his hands, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Hiei decides to speak up in his stead. "If you're telling the truth, then explain."

Yusuke looks over at Kurama.

Kurama glances out the windows. Takes a breath.

"Several generations ago…"

The story unfolds into the living room in fits and starts. With an audience of three, instead of just Yusuke, Kurama seems to lose his footing (or maybe his nerve) more often. To their credit, neither Kuwabara nor Hiei interrupt him. Well, not too much; Hiei kicks him in the knee when carrot top opens his mouth, and after that, he just listens, a growing frown on his sharp features.

"…And so now, the curse has fallen to me. From dusk until dawn every night, I assume the form of a red fox," Kurama finishes. He looks so– so drained, after that, Yusuke reaches out to squeeze his knee reassuringly. "In the past, people have– Well, they haven't responded well to being told all of this. It's…difficult to accept such an implausible story. I thought it would be easier to just– to not even try."

When he's finished, Hiei looks thoughtful, sipping his cocoa. Kuwabara drops his head to run a hand through his hair after sitting through all that. He looks up and meets Yusuke's gaze. "Urameshi. Do you… I mean, you don't– believe all that, do you?"

Hot, bitter anger rushes up the back of his throat, startling even himself. "Wh–?! You just heard him: this is exactly why he didn't wanna tell anyone!"

"If it's true, then we should see for ourselves soon." Both of them whip around to look at Hiei, who's looking out the windows from his perch on the other armchair. "It's almost nightfall."

Kuwabara follows his gaze and then gets up. He's halfway out of the room when Yusuke calls after him. "Where're you goin'?"

Broad shoulders tense, but he doesn't turn around, even at Yusuke's accusatory tone. "Need a smoke."

A smoke? Kuwabara hadn't touched a cigarette since– since freshman year.

The front door opens, then closes roughly.

There's an awkward silence for a few seconds, and then Hiei sighs, apropos of nothing, and gets up. "He'll pace around out there for twenty minutes before realizing he didn't actually ask for one," he groused as if to himself as he skirts around the couch to follow after the big lug.

That leaves him and Kurama in the living room. Yusuke turns to him immediately, reassurances already on his tongue. "Hey, don't worry about them. Kuwa might be skeptical, but he'll come around."

Kurama looks wilted, as if telling the whole story of his family history– and especially the immediate rejection afterwards– took everything right out of him. Yusuke rubs his thigh reassuringly, biting his lip before saying fuck it.

The redhead looks up in surprise as Yusuke settles on the side of the armchair, putting an arm around his shoulders and then drawing him into an embrace. It's a little awkward– he has to twist to one side to hug him, and Kurama's face is basically shoved against his pecs – but even so. A couple seconds tick by, and then the redhead embraces him back, arms wrapping tight around his middle.

"I promise it'll be alright," he murmurs against the crown of Kurama's head. "Even if they don't come back in when it gets dark, and see you weren't lying. I know you were tellin' the truth. And they can go eat dirt, if that's how much my word means to them." That gets a small, tremulous snort from him. Yusuke smiles and leans his uninjured cheek against him. "You heard me– dirt. Both of 'em can have a nice, big, worm-infested dirt pie for callin' you crazy."

"It's– it's not their fault," Kurama argues weakly, tipping his face to speak without getting Yusuke's shirt all in his mouth. "Anyone would think I– that it was crazy."

Yusuke rubs his shoulder as best he can, given the funky angle. "Fuck 'em, then. All anyone has to do is wait 'til dark, and then they can take all their, their disbelief and shove it up their asses." Another chuckle– the redhead's trembling seems to have started subsiding. Yusuke keeps rubbing his shoulders and running his mouth, reassurances and silly jokes, until all at once, Kurama stiffens in his arms.

He's expecting it when the redhead draws away, though the way he discreetly dabs his eyes makes Yusuke's heart twinge. "It's time."

He nods. "Alright."

"Are your– are your friends…"

"Dunno, don't care. Not the focus right now." Kurama huffs a breath of a smile, looking towards the front hall. Neither of them had come back inside while Yusuke was comforting the redhead. For all he cared, they could get frostbitten toes. Alright, so maybe that was a lie– but he was pretty damn ticked off at his friends. Kuwabara especially.

Yusuke watches the transformation with curious interest, from ears and tail– the same as that fateful Friday night– until Kurama's curled up on the armchair, looking just as dejected as a fox. It's still a little astounding to see happen, even fully knowing and believing it's real.

He leans down to ruffle between his big, droopy ears. "Hey, come on. No sad puppy faces."

Kurama huffs, but doesn't lift his head.

And that's when the front door opens.

"Freakin' freezing–"

"You're the one who wanted to go smoke in this."

"Like you didn't need to step outside after that!"

Yusuke cranes his head towards the entryway. "Took you assholes long enough. You ready to eat some fuckin' crow?"

Hiei's still taking off his mittens, but he comes into the living room, peering over the couch towards the armchair. Kurama's still all curled up, resting his chin on his paws– but his ears are upright, twitching nervously at the noise. Hiei's expression remains blank and unreadable, the little turd, but Yusuke thinks he sees one of his eyebrows go up a smidge. "Huh. So he was telling the truth, after all."

Kuwabara comes lumbering in behind him, at that. He doesn't even have to tip his chin to see over the back of the couch– and Yusuke honestly should have expected his reaction. "Wh– HOLY SHIT!" Kurama's ears slap down against his head at the noise.

…Aaaaand then Kuwabara faints.

Several semesters later…

"Remind me again why we're tolerating the masses," Hiei grouses.

Yusuke has a snappy remark locked and loaded in the time it takes the grumpy little gremlin to finish speaking, but Kurama beats him to the punch. "Because it's nice to get out every now and then," he replies matter-of-factly, over the general din of the café.

Hiei doesn't miss the quiet implication behind the answer. He shuts up with a huff, slouching down in his seat and sipping his caramel-vanilla monstrosity (the extra large cup is hilariously big in his hands) without further argument.

Yusuke shifts to bump his thigh against the redhead's, under the table. "You could use some sunshine, anyway," he adds teasingly. Hiei gives him a dirty look, but before they can continue bantering Kuwabara finally returns with his order.

And food.

"Hey, you didn't say we were getting lunch," Yusuke complains, leaning forward to look at what all he got. Kuwabara waves him away like a housefly.

"Buzz off! Just 'cause some of us have the weekend off, doesn't mean we all do," he retorts, settling at his spot next to Hiei while the vampire starts helping himself to one of the chocolate chip muffins.

"Yeah, yeah," Yusuke grumbles good-naturedly. Kuwabara was so proud of his new job– and with good reason, too. He'd been scouted for the position before he even finished his final term in college. It was nothing to sneeze at. "They really got you workin' Saturdays?"

"Only sometimes," Hiei replies, since carrot top just shoved half a croissant in his mouth. "I told his manager I would track him down personally if he kept trying to overwork Kazuma."

"Over the phone, right?" he guesses, snickering. " 'Cause that probably wouldn't work if you had to look up to deliver the threat."

To his surprise, Hiei doesn't give an acerbic retort, or even look at him with homicidal intent for the jab. Kurama nudges him anyway, and then Kuwabara's passing his phone across the table.

Yusuke takes it and lights up when he realizes what he's being shown: cat photos. "Awww, so the little dude's settling in alright??"

Kuwabara washes down his first croissant with a swig of mocha before gushing, "Actually, she's a girl. And yeah, she's doing great!"

The little fuzzball on the screen looks like she's already making herself right at home in their apartment. Yusuke flicks through pics of the kitten in question playing with a piece of string on the bed, looking up at a windowsill that's definitely too high for her to jump (for now), and even one of Hiei holding a tiny, angry-looking purrito, fresh from a flea bath.

"My mistake," he laughs, passing the phone back. "So– I get to be her uncle, right??" Yusuke had almost kept the kitten for himself, after he found her a couple nights ago. He'd taken the trash out with him as he left the restaurant, like always– but unlike always, the trashcan had hissed at him.

Lo and behold, a scrappy ragamuffin of a tabby cat was huddled behind the bin.

What else was he supposed to do, not scoop up the spicy little furball? It was still kinda cold outside, even being spring, and there weren't any other cats or kittens around when Yusuke looked. Little guy (girl) seemed pretty beat up and skinny, although she still managed to claw red stripes across his hand when he tried to grab her.

"Uh, of course," Kuwabara confirms, pocketing his phone. "You wanna come see her after this? I gotta go back in, but Hiei'll be heading back to the apartment!"

Hiei looks perturbed at being offered up to play host to another social visit, but Yusuke turns it down before he can start arguing with his boyfriend. "Nah. Fox boy's not much of a cat person, remember?"

Kurama sips his chai and says nothing on the matter, at least until Kuwabara does an about-face and turns to him with an, "Oh, right– sorry."

"It's quite alright," he assures him. "You did us both a favor, taking it in on such short notice."

Yusuke covers a snort with his straw. Even trying to sound congenial, there was a tiny, hard edge to guy's voice.

Yeah, Kurama was not a cat person. Or a dog person, for that matter– the story about the family dog? It turned out to be just that; a story, to explain the presence of the dog door. 'Kuro' was actually the nickname of a childhood friend.

When Yusuke got home that morning after finding the kitty, Kurama was still in fox mode. He came trotting down the drive to meet him, like always, but as soon he was within sniffing distance the fox stopped– hackles raising, ears folding back– and made an inquisitive not-a-growl-but-close.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Yusuke stopped too, seeing his furry boyfriend's sudden change in demeanor. He could guess what had him acting like that, unzipping his windbreaker enough for the little bundle of claws within to poke his (her) head out. "It's just a kitten, man. I found him behind the trash cans at work."

Kurama lifted his head, slinking out of the defensive posture to take a few tentative steps closer. His ears were still pinned down, though, whiskers twitching as he scented the air. "See? He's just a little dude."

The moment said 'little dude' noticed the fox approaching, Yusuke felt it go stiff against his chest– and then give a mighty, popping hiss. Kurama reared back at the sound, and then the kitten was trying to claw his way out of the safety of Yusuke's jacket. "Fuck–! Ow, ow, okay– easy with the claws!!"

"Who exactly are you including in 'us'?" Hiei intones. "She's a little menace."

"You love her," Kuwabara declares. To the other couple, he says conspiratorially, "Hiei held her the entire time while she was drying off from her bath."

"So she wouldn't get the upholstery wet," he argues sharply, fooling exactly no one when they all laugh. Hiei slumps in his chair moodily.

It's great, having the whole gang together like this– after Kuwabara graduated and he and Hiei finally made things official, Yusuke had feared briefly that he and his bestie would start to naturally drift apart. He was still finishing up his own degree, after all. They had their own lives now.

As it happened, carrot top had been anxious about the exact same thing and was just being quiet about it. Thankfully for both of them, their respective boyfriends were each perceptive in their own way, and had volun-told the idiots they were going to start planning weekly outings together.

Well, Kurama did. Hiei had just been suspiciously compliant about it all– at least until said outings started in earnest. Then all bets were off about his grumbling.

He came along every time though, the little softie.

Along with being a touchstone for Yusuke and Kuwabara's friendship, the little get-togethers also helped Kurama get out of the house. He was still limited to daytime hours as far as going into the city and experiencing 'normal' life, but his level of socialization had vastly improved. Yusuke was so happy for his awkward, sweet boyfriend.

Watching him chatter with Hiei and Kuwa, a swell of affection comes over him and he leans over to plant a kiss on Kurama’s cheek mid-sentence.The redhead stutters, but finishes what he was saying before turning to him, blushing a little. It's adorable. "What was that for?"

Yusuke just shrugs. "I'unno. Just love ya." He watches Kurama's cheeks darken a little more and bumps his thigh up against the redhead's again, leaving it there.

"…Should we leave?" Kuwabara butts in after a couple seconds, snapping them out of their googly-eyed staring.

"Repulsive," Hiei lies, prompting his own boyfriend to knock shoulders with him reproachfully.

"Hey, that's my bestie you're talkin' about. Just 'cause he's a furry–"

"–Ohhh my god, not this shit again," Yusuke interrupts loudly. A couple people nearby glance over, but he ignores them. "How many times do I have to beat your ass for you to knock it off with that??"

"I dunno, how many times you think you can win in a fight?" Kuwabara challenges right back, grinning. There's no heat behind their banter– it took Kurama and Hiei a little while to realize as much, but now they just roll their eyes and smile long-sufferingly at their antics.

Yusuke peers over at the pastry case from where they're sitting, long enough for Kurama to notice and follow his gaze. "Did you want to order something?"

He hems and haws a little before deciding against an impulsive splurge. They still have some leftovers from his last project, at home– and if he's really jonesing for something sweet, he can just get some cookies from the pantry later.

Or, y'know, get some sweet nothings from his foxy boyfriend.

Yusuke always counts it as a personal victory when he manages to get the redhead to turn the color of his hair. He chuckles at the joke all the same and leans over to give Yusuke a quick peck, "to tide him over".

Hiei makes a gagging noise.

The foursome go their separate ways about an hour later– Kuwabara's new job was pretty cushy with the long lunches, but he did actually have to get back to the office at a decent time. Yusuke trades fist-bumps with the big guy (and a slightly reluctant one with Hiei), and then he and Kurama start the trek back up the hill.

It's comfortably brisk, this time of year. They walk in companionable silence, the din of passers-by fading as they head towards the outskirts of the neighborhood. Yusuke laces his hands behind his head, content.

He was still working the overnight shift at the restaurant, but his classes were getting more and more specialized as he neared his own graduation. Yusuke could no longer selectively choose an evening schedule for school. It worked out though– these days, he purposely tried to keep more of his daytime hours free, to spend time with his boyfriend. Sure, his sleep schedule was fucked…but when had it not been?

Kurama speaks up after they skirt around a crowd at the bus stop. "Are you disappointed about the cat?"

His tone makes Yusuke look over. "Huh? …Naw, I kinda had a feeling it wasn't gonna go over like I hoped," he shrugs. Fox boy looks pensive, eyes on the sidewalk in front of them, so he reaches over to scoop one of his hands into his own. "It's fine, babe. Really."

"…I'm sorry. There're probably a lot of things you're putting aside for my sake," Kurama persists softly.

Yusuke's frown deepens, tugging at the scar tissue on his cheek. The scratches had healed perfectly (especially with Kurama fussing over them just about every day), but all the butterfly closures and neosporin in the world couldn't prevent them from scarring. Yusuke thought it made him look rugged.

"What? Hey. Look at me," he slows down a little, tugging on Kurama's hand until he acquiesces. "Where's this coming from all of a sudden? You seemed fine back at the café."

More than fine; now that he had friends who both knew about and accepted him, curse and all, Kurama was thriving. He was even looking into getting a part-time job at a local florist, since they were only open from ten to four each day– even if he got promoted (which he absolutely would, guy was a savant with flowers), he'd never be at risk of being out past dark.

Kurama can't hold his gaze for very long. "I don't know," he confesses, fingers grasping Yusuke's a little tighter. "I just…worry that I'm holding you back, somehow. You're almost done with school, and then you're going to start your own business, and I'll still just…be here."

Yusuke stops, forcing his boyfriend to come to a standstill with him. "What? Kurama, it was just a cat," he tries, going for gently incredulous. When that fails to crack the tension, he leans in to peer up at Kurama from under his bangs. "Babe. How long've you been worryin' over this?"

Green eyes look aside, then back to him. "…Actively, or…?"

Yusuke hangs his head dramatically for a beat before closing the space between them with a quick, reassuring hug. It's getting a little late– there's not a lot of people around, but they are still in public, so he keeps it brief. "I tolja, man, you gotta talk to me when you start getting in your head about stuff."

Kurama looks shamefaced as he reaches up to play with a lock of his hair. "…If I did that, we would be talking forever," he admits. Yusuke gives him an unamused face when he looks over. "I'm talking about it now, aren't I?"

He sounds vulnerable enough, Yusuke lets him off the hook– for now. He straightens up and starts walking, slower, taking Kurama's hand in his again as the redhead falls into step. "Yeah, you are," he relents. "If I knew it just took trying to bring home a new pet to get you to talk, I'dve started doing it a long time ago," Yusuke kids, swinging their hands between them.

Kurama takes the segue for what it is and gives a chuckle. "Please refrain. You still smell like that cat."

"Wh–?? I showered and did the laundry, how do I stink?!"

Later on, as the shadows begin to stretch across the ground and Yusuke draws his blackout curtains across the window, fox boy rectifies the apparent 'cat smell' problem.

By rubbing his face all over Yusuke.

He tries not to laugh as Kurama nuzzles against him, red hair tickling his face. They end up tipping backward on the bed until Yusuke has to brace himself with his hands, lap full of eager boyfriend.

"Okay? I mean, this is nice and all–" His voice hitches as the redhead noses his shirt collar aside to nip at his shoulder, sending a thrill of lust through his frame. "But– how's this any better than just–…showering?"

"Don't smell like me anymore," Kurama murmurs, breath hot against his skin. His green eyes are half-lidded when Yusuke tips his head away to look at him, eyebrow raised.

"That's cheesy." Fox boy just sniffs and buries his face against him insistently. His antics make Yusuke snort, but he doesn't protest further– especially not when the redhead starts tugging at his shirt, pulling it free of his jeans and then rucking it up to run his hands all over his front. "O-oh, okay, I guess we're– nnghhh–…"

If he still smells like cat after an enthusiastic romp with his boyfriend, Kurama seems to have stopped caring. Probably because after said romp, he curls up next to Yusuke with his head on his chest, holding his hand with both of his own like he's saying 'This is mine', even in his sleep.

It's cute. Kurama's fox brain quirks– as Yusuke had taken to calling them– could maybe be inconvenient at times (see: the healing kitten scratches littered across his front), but even then, they were just that: quirks. Just 'cause some of Kurama's came from an ancient family curse didn't make them bad; any less than say, nail-biting or picky eating were inherently bad.

Besides. When it came down to it, Yusuke thought his own idiosyncrasies were the worse between them. To his credit, he had started trying to quit smoking.

Yusuke runs his fingers through long, silky red hair and drifts a little. Pretty soon, he'd be petting coarse fox fur, which was just as well. Fox-Kurama made an excellent cuddle buddy…so long as his tail stayed well out of range of Yusuke's crotch. Getting clipped in the balls with an excitedly wagging tail was no joke.

When he opens his eyes, Yusuke knows he's dreaming. He's outside the Minamino house, and it's light outside. Except…when he looks up, the sky is. Well, it isn't dark, per se, but the stars are out– and more vivid than they could possibly be in Tokyo. The band of the milky way stretches across a vast, purple-blue canvas, like white ink spilled across the sky.

Yusuke's mouth opens in awe as he gazes up. It's not the strange, ethereal sky hanging above that tips him off. Somehow he just knows he's sleeping–the same way he has an intuitive awareness of being awake, without having to really think about it. It's a little strange.

Around him, the woods that surround the house are alive with a chorus of sound– squirrels running around, jumping from branch to branch; leaves shifting in the trees; the rustle of a bird's wings as it takes off. It isn't loud– more like Yusuke's hearing has been multiplied, so that even the grass beneath his feet sings softly as it sways.

It's…peaceful. He thinks he could stay here and watch the stars drift across the sky forever.

The soft susurrus of cloth draws his attention from the heavens. Yusuke blinks, realizing he has no idea how long he'd been standing there. A pair of bright, molten gold eyes are looking right at him as soon as he looks down. It ought to startle him– the sudden presence of another living creature so close, without him having noticed– but it doesn't.

The golden-eyed being tips their head to one side, studying him the same as Yusuke does. He has long, flowing silver hair that almost melds into his white kimono, diaphanous and lovely. He has a strong sense that he knows this man, even though there's no way in hell Yusuke could have met someone so– strange– and forgotten.

"So you're the one," the man says after a time, and his voice has a sort of resonance to it– but just like the stars, visibly tilting overhead, Yusuke is nonplussed. He's still trying to place how he knows this guy, because he definitely does. Something about his face, maybe? The slant of his eyes and sharpness of his cheeks strike a chord…almost like a–

"You're not the cleverest boy, are you?"

Yusuke balks, and some of the ethereal, dream-like haziness dissipates from his mind in offense. "Hey–" he starts to argue, cutting himself off as he sees them: ears.The tall, strange man has furry silver ears and a tail to match, swishing behind him in amusement.

"…Even so, he seems quite enamored of you. Intelligence notwithstanding," he continues as if Yusuke hadn't spoken at all. There's a lilt to his lips that suggests he heard him perfectly well, and that he finds his indignation highly entertaining. Yusuke decides he dislikes this– man?– on principle.

Before he can argue, the world shifts around them. Or do they shift? It's hard to keep track of things like space and time in a dream.

The silver-haired entity is right in front of him when they (or the world) stills. Long, claw-tipped fingers take Yusuke's chin in hand to get a better look at him.

Damn, he's tall.

"Careful, I was just warming up to you," he murmurs playfully. His golden eyes are liquid fire, flickering with warmth and danger in equal measure. Yusuke can't bring himself to look away; all he can think of as the man bends to press cool, soft lips to his own is that he smells like flowers and earth. Kind of a dumb thing to focus on, considering he's being kissed by a weirdo with– fox ears, that's what they are. But…he's so familiar. His light, delicate touch, and his strange eyes, and even the way their lips slot together is familiar.

Like Kurama.

No sooner than he makes the connection, the dream starts to dissolve around them. Yusuke thinks he hears someone chuckling distantly, like from far away…but then there's only darkness.

Yusuke comes to like he's trying to swim through molasses: slowly, with great difficulty, and unpleasantly sticky.

He peels his eyes open, bleary and sore, and just stares up at the darkness for a minute. Kurama's still using his chest as a pillow; Yusuke worms an arm free to fumble for his phone, only to knock it right off the nightstand. It hits the floor with a dull thump. Dammit.

Well. Kurama's still curled up at his side, warm and heavy and decidedly dead to the world. He's also still human, so it's not that late. He grunts a little as Yusuke wriggles under him to get comfortable again, remembering why he's kinda sticky with a content, sleepy smile.

He'll clean himself off when it's time to get up.

If he dreams again, Yusuke doesn't remember it when he comes floating back to awareness sometime later. He's overheating, with a man two and a half inches taller draped over him like a weighted blanket.

Kurama makes a soft whining noise as he's jostled, fingers curling against Yusuke's ribs ticklishly. He settles with a decidedly pouty little huff on the pillow as Yusuke reaches over the side of the bed for his phone, still totally zonked out. Man, post-sex naps really did the trick; Kurama rarely slept that deeply, and Yusuke feels like he just got a solid night's rest, even though it can't be any later than six.

…Make that one in the morning.

For several long moments, the numbers on his lock screen don't compute. Yusuke stares blearily down at his phone, still hanging halfway off the bed while he tries to put two and two together. Then he looks at the window– the only light coming in around the edges of the curtains is pale, barely-perceptible moonlight.

It's dark out.

Yusuke sits up so fast, Kurama grumbles in his sleep when he kicks his legs by accident.

His human legs.

"Kurama," he hisses, shaking his shoulder. He's human. It's one in the morning, and– "Kurama!" The redhead pushes him away with some mostly-unintelligible mumbling, which only riles Yusuke up further. Kurama isn't this hard of a sleeper, ever.

Finally he takes a deep, noisy breath to protest, "Y'suke, it's not even dark out yet…"

"Babe. It is."

Silence for a moment. Kurama twists to sit up as Yusuke clicks on the lamp, covering his face with his arm. "It's not," he says again, less certain and more confused. He also sounds mega groggy– setting Yusuke's nerves further on edge. His heart's pounding against his ribs as he shoves his phone under the redhead's nose.

It takes Kurama a minute to read the bright screen, squinting, and then he just… stares at it, like Yusuke had.

Then the redhead's tumbling over him out of the bed, hastily kicking his legs free of the sheets twisted and clambering over to the window to yank the curtains open.

It is at this point that Yusuke registers his boyfriend is naked as a jaybird, even though there are slightly bigger things for his brain to try to process right this second.

Kurama– human Kurama, no fox ears, or tail, or paws in sight– stands in the pale glow coming from the window, hands clutching at the curtains. When he turns to look back, his eyes are huge and glassy. "It's dark out," he murmurs, almost too softly to hear.

Yusuke opens his mouth to say something– to ask if he's alright, or what's going on, is he like, still dreaming– but before he can, the redhead bounds back to the bed and tackles him, flinging his arms around Yusuke and kissing him silly.

They fall back against the mattress in a tangle, teeth clacking. Kurama draws back enough to exclaim, "Yusuke, it's nighttime–" but kisses him again before he finishes.."–I'm human, I–" It's like trying to get a full sentence in without pressing their lips together is impossible. "…–haven't seen the moon since I was six–…"

Caught between his boyfriend's desperate embrace, and his breathless half-sentences, Yusuke can't get a word in edgewise. He holds Kurama and returns his frantic kissing as best he can, rubbing his back and grinning against his lips. He can feel himself trembling with nerves and disbelief. If he's human, then…

With a start Yusuke realizes his cheeks are wet. Kurama…Kurama's crying. He pulls away, lip caught between Kurama's own for another second as he draws back– and then it registers that he's not the only one shaking. "Babe, are you okay?"

Kurama starts to shake his head, then nod, then sniffles and wipes his face with the heel of his hand. "I– yes?" he questions, snorting at his own uncertainty. It sounds terrible, considering that he's crying; his voice is thick as he repeats wonderingly, "I'm human."

Yusuke rubs his back, both out of nerves and to try to soothe his boyfriend. "Does that mean… Did– did we…" Did we break the curse?

More confused nodding. Kurama sits up and ducks his head to scrub at his face some more. When he looks up, his cheeks are mottled with red, and his eyes are a little puffy, but Yusuke could hardly care less– He's gorgeous. "You did," Kurama corrects with a tremulous, beatific smile. "You freed me."

Emotion surges through Yusuke so suddenly, so hard, he almost reels from it. I freed him. I broke the curse. I broke the curse with– with my l–…

He feels like he might start crying. Kurama leans in to kiss him again, and it's sloppy and wet and desperate on both sides, this time.

When they have to part for air Yusuke still feels breathless from forcing the lump in his throat down. He takes a deep breath and rests his forehead against the redhead's, reaching up to brush his tears away, trying to get himself together as he echoes, "I broke the curse."

For a long time they just hold each other in the lamplight. Kurama's butt naked, and Yusuke's still got dried come on his front from earlier, and the window is wide open now…but he can't bring himself to care about anything but holding this perfect, beautiful, human man in his arms.

When he thinks he can speak without it turning into an embarrassingly emotional sound (like heaven forbid a sob), Yusuke sits up and cards his hands through his boyfriend's hair, tucking it behind his ears. His round, pink, not furry ears. Gods. He broke the curse.

A thought comes to him then– Yusuke feels the tight swelling in his chest rattle loose on a half-sob, half-chuckle. Kurama makes an inquisitive sound, but all he can do is shake his head for a minute as he pulls it together.

Then, in a hushed voice, he says, "I broke the curse with my dick."