Twilight by scheherezhad

Rating: light R

Pairing: Yusuke/Kurama

Disclaimer: This is technically so vague I don't think this matters, but whatever. I don't own them, please don't sue me.

Author's notes: To my dearest darling krysis_, because I got her hooked on YYH. (Ha! I wrote mine, so it's your turn. :P )

Feedback: Please. Praise me, criticise me, outright flame me. I don't care; I just want to know what you really think. scheherezhad@yahoo.com

A deep, lingering kiss, cold fingertips gradually warming as skin slides on skin, and it's like he was still dead until now. Clothes are gone, and he follows the in and out of breaths while his fingers trace along ribs, presses his lips to soft skin at the inside of one elbow and earns a gasp.

It is all foreign and familiar at the same time. The hand that has so often rested on his shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie now clutches at it in passion; the voice that has shouted his name in fear now whispers it in desire. The feeling that provokes is akin to coming home and finding that all the furniture was rearranged in his absence. But the new arrangement is pleasing, as if this was the way it should have been set up all along, only it had taken a while to realize it.

The room upends itself, and he finds that he is now looking up at bright eyes. He engages the other in a playful fight for dominance in which neither loses, though they misjudge distance and roll onto the floor. Then he is laughing, and it's wonderful because he never thought that laughter and loving could go so easily together.

He is kissed silent as their laughing fit winds down, and hands begin wandering again. He wants to learn the other's shape, trace the scars whose origins he witnessed, hear the stories behind the ones he has never seen. They are all a part of the whole he has always loved.

Touches grow bolder, questioning and accepted, stroking and seeking and there, and the next step is so easy now. It becomes heat and friction and frantic breathing, noises instead of words but still encouraging, grasping and clutching and moving together, and they have always been willing to die for one another since the moment they met, but this little death is so much better.

His skin begins to chill, and the other rises to close the window. The chill eases, then disappears as they press together beneath the blankets, sated and satisfied. He has long been at odds with the world, but in these arms, he has found his peace.