Except for a set of new scars that hadn’t been there the night before, there was no evidence of the battle. And even as he watched, those twin red marks faded into his skin, before vanishing from sight. Perplexed, he settled back down again, resting his chin on Kurama’s chest and watching the other sleep. Despite the peace that infused the other’s face, there was a small line of tension that ran across his forehead. That brought a frown to Hiei’s face; he disliked seeing anything disturb his lover, so he rubbed the skin with his fingers, smoothing the line away until the skin under his fingers lay smooth and soft again.
He bent forward and touched his lips briefly to the taller man’s. “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he whispered, remembering one of the many stories that Kurama had read to him on pleasantly cold nights, when the two of them tried to fit in one large chair in front of the fireplace. Kurama was definitely more beautiful than any princess in some book, he decided, watching as the heavy-lidded green eyes blinked open, closed, then fluttered back open.
“Wuzzat?” Kurama asked sleepily, shifting a little underneath him. The lines had reappeared on his brow, and absently, Hiei rubbed them away again, before gifting his lover with a tiny smile.
“Nothing,” he assured him, and sat up, allowing Kurama to do the same. The redhead yawned heavily, and stretched, tilting his head back, exposing his pale throat to the morning sunlight. Then, suddenly, realization seemed to hit, and Kurama snapped into an attentive position, staring at Hiei.
“Let me see your arms,” he insisted. Hiei blinked, then complied, turning them so that the place where the wounds had been faced towards the ceiling in plain sight. Kurama frowned, rubbing his fingers lightly over the place where the gashes had been. “What ... what happened, back there?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t some elaborate dream ...”
Hiei shrugged. “I guess I heal fast,” he said simply, then pulled out of Kurama’s light grip. “I’m fine,” he insisted, and Kurama held up his hands, soothing. “Who was that girl, anyway?”
Kurama sighed. “A ... a former lover of mine,” he admitted, quietly. “She had never been in a prior relationship to me, so I guess she fell much harder than I ever thought she would. She became jealously possessive of me; tried to keep me locked up in her house while she did all the shopping and foraging and whatnot. I escaped from her one night, and I never thought I’d see her again ... but I was wrong.” He looked up at Hiei sadly, green eyes veiling their secrets. “Gomen nasai, Hiei ... I didn’t mean to draw you into this mess,” he said quietly, turning his face down and away. “I’d understand if you want to ... to leave.”
Hiei raised an eyebrow, then grasped Kurama’s chin firmly in his small hand, forcing the redhead’s face upward. There were unshed tears sparkling in the emerald orbs, and he carefully wiped one away with the tip of his thumb, infinitely gentle. “Hush,” he said calmly, watching with hidden amusement as the other blinked, startled. “I’m not going to leave you. I would never - could never - leave you.” He pressed a light kiss to Kurama’s forehead. “Like you said, the others may hold our lives, but only you hold my soul.” He brushed his lips one last time over the tip of Kurama’s nose. “Ai shiteru, Kurama,” he murmured.
Kurama blinked, opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and blinked again. All that came out was a strangled sound of total surprise, which was followed by a smile so brilliant that it rivaled the sunlight that had so rudely awoken him, moments before. With shaking arms, the youko drew his Koorime lover into a tight embrace, one that spoke of the love they shared now, and the years that they would have together, in the future.