Blood roses, blood roses
Back on the street now
can't forget the things you never said
-Tori Amos

Summer was dying.

He'd seen hundreds of them, leaves giving up their green in a last orange gasp of passion, the warm lover of the season tuning from fire to ice and abandoning them.

Kurama smiled with a soft faint bitterness at the allusion.

Maybe he was just jaded at the moment.

'At the moment' Such a youko phrase for humans to use, Only demons could afford 'at the moment'. Didn't humans realize that the moment could very well be all they had? How could they live rare seconds so flippantly? Kurama almost laughed. What other way did they know how to live them?

He quieted, staring at the leaves floating past his window. They pressed their flame-bright bodies against the glass, silently mouthing pleas to not be left to the cold, surely the summer could stay, couldn't it? It would be so cold without it, and the snow would freeze their corpses and suck the bright color from their desperately painted faces.

You're going mad, Kurama, he told himself. They're only leaves.

He leaned his face against the cool glass. Only leaves and they'll be back in the spring, they always come back.

Leaves, at least, are reliable.

Kurama wasn't terribly surprised to realize he was crying. Stupid fox, crying like a ningen. It was just his thoughts in someone else's voice, he hadn't really heard it, and that only made it worse as he wept. The tree outside shook in sympathy and even sprouted a few green leaves to attempt to cheer him up; the rose bush under his window became a riot of out of season blooms and long sharp thorns.

If he shows up again, the tree will knock him off the windowsill and he can land on all these! The thorns glinted upward like tiny daggers, the murmur of plant voices in Kurama's mind was not enough, they would only damage themselves by upsetting their cycles. The Kitsune wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, reassuring the tree and the rosebush that it really wasn't necessary. Somewhere deep inside where even the plants wouldn't hear, he replayed the phrase 'if he returns again' and let his twin-worlded heart shatter. Reluctantly, the thorns retreated and the roses unwound out of existence, green budded leaves retracting into bark that was already sleeping.

Kurama was drowsy too, but he fought the sleep, knowing that it would only bring dreams he didn't want. With a sigh he launched himself up from the window, refusing to stare mournfully at the late afternoon any longer. It was beautiful out, and still warm before the sun set. He really shouldn't sit here and mope.

He should go out and mope. It had to be a healthier level of moping, anyway. He pulled on his jacket with a sigh and announced his departure before stepping out into gold light and lengthening shadows.

The streets of his neighborhood were filled with the sounds of children playing, kids returning home for the afternoon and older ones leaving to meet with friends. The wind smelled of autumn, distantly of woodsmoke and dinners all under a sky of enameled blue. A maple leaf fluttered to the sidewalk by his toes, he picked it up and twirled it in his fingers. Such a warm shade of red, like sunset, like fire, and Kurama slumped into a bench, scolding himself for thinking a walk would make him forget red like his eyes too.

He hadn't expected to be kissed, well, not really. Hiei's usual expression was a barely tolerant scowl and his attitude at best was one that seemed to say he really hoped no one he knew saw him with these people. So despite what Kurama hoped for every other second he wasn't prepared for the diminutive fire demon to toss away Minamino Shuuichi's algebra textbook with a noise of disgust and promptly pounce.

And oh, his mouth had been so hot, like Kurama knew it would be, the small strong hands splayed across his chest and imprisoning the kitsune against the headboard of his bed as a demon-fire tongue invaded his mouth. Kurama didn't even bother to put up a fight, just moaned into the kiss as the top of his school uniform was torn open and the heat of Hiei's lips softened the sharp nips of his teeth on Kurama's skin.

Youko Kurama wouldn't have sat still for this, would never have gotten involved in the game unless he held all the cards AND the dice, but it had been a long time since Kurama had worn that form on a constant basis, and some things had slipped away. At least, that was the excuse Kurama gave himself as Hiei's fingers pinned his wrists together and the burning kisses dipped between his sprawled legs.

Kurama had begged and pleaded and promised with everything in him, not noting that Hiei had barely responded as the kitsune spilled secrets. Kurama had cursed himself for that the next morning, when the last warm breeze of summer had blown in though his open window and across his solitary bed.

Three weeks without so much as a word, or the briefest of appearances. So how was it that after all those hours Kurama could still feel the fire demon inside him, the sting of fangs on his throat an the taste of his own blood in Hiei's molten kisses?

He was Kurama. One night stands should be nothing to him, a handful of hours of intense pleasure should be thought of as a pleasant distraction. Hiei had been an excellent mate and if circumstances came around to it again, maybe they could perform a reprise.

That's how he SHOULD be looking at it, but instead he was cold from sitting on a bench for so long, his fingers chilled without gloves and his body aching desperately for mystical fire.

He hauled himself to his feet and began to slowly walk back home, using the time to invent various scenarios. Maybe he'd open the door to his bedroom and there Hiei would be, with open arms and a delicate smile. Maybe he'd just been busy. Or hurt someplace. Or working out his feelings, yeah. Kurama had said things that scared him and he needed time to think it over, maybe that.

Kurama gave a snort. Yes, and he might as well expect Hiei tied down to his bed and covered in chocolate syrup while he was at it. He couldn't help the giggle, playing with that idea a little. It was painful but not terrible, and better than complete misery, anyway. He'd worked out about how much youki it would take to tie oneself to a bed and properly disperse chocolate syrup over one's- yum - bare body by the time he'd made it to the closed door of his bedroom, and found he couldn't open it.

Hiei wouldn't be there. He wouldn't. So Kurama could stop hoping against hope that he would be.

His hand still shook when he turned the knob.

The room was empty.

It was insult to injury, he decided, and downright rude. Never in his most hedonistic hours had Kurama ever just abandoned a lover without so much as a note, it simply wasn't done that way. He flung his coat across his bed, snarling in a way far more suited to his platinum youko than the soft-spoken Minamino Shuuichi. Even random rutting had a sense of etiquette that ought to be observed. As much as the thought of it just being a fuck (in the common ningen vernacular) hurt him, he was too mad to sob just now.

Of course, this was Hiei and if there was one thing he wasn't it was A Very Nice Person.

Bastard. Kurama thought viciously, pacing. I was willing to LOVE his uncooperative skinny selfish little me me me all the time ASS and all he wanted was a piece of mine. Well FINE. Be that way. Kurama tossed his head, green eyes glinting dangerously as he flung the mental call out as far as he could. You hear me you little freak? I'm not gonna be your bed toy because Youko Kurama doesn't take that kind of shit from lovers!! I'm going to go take a shower and fantasize about KOENMA, so you can just go blow Kuwabara for all I care!!!

He slammed the door to the bathroom, not really caring what the other members of his household thought, turned on the shower and sat under the water and sulked. He didn't want Hiei. What was Hiei, anyway? A bad tempered little demon brat? Kurama had had lovers that could sing the release out of him without ever so much as a touch, that waited on his every whim or made him beg for pleasure, so what was one insignificant night in his lifespan spent with one insignificant ungrateful inexperienced Hiei nobody?

The water sent up clouds of steam as it pelted down on him, hot like a narrow-hipped body pressed to his and Kurama's rage melted out of him.

Everything. One insignificant night was everything.

He curled into a ball and was as miserable as only a wet lovesick kitsune could be.

He came out of the shower only after he'd used up all the hot water, his fingertips pruned and his skin flushed rosy. It hadn't helped; he still felt more used and cheap- a concept that once would never have occurred to him- than he ever had. But at least he'd made up his mind what he was going to do. He'd picked up the phone and had the first four digits of Yuuske's number dialed when something pricked his consciousness and he whirled, green eyes scouring the darkness outside his window.

Nothing.

Kurama sighed. Wishful thinking, even now. He got two more buttons pushed and there was a muffled thrashing sound from the rosebush outside, and an irate and humiliated brush of a mind to his.

FOX! Tell your #$&*% WEED to let me go!

For a moment Kurama almost kept dialing, wouldn't that be a pretty scenario.. Hiei could stay trapped in the rosebush the whole time Kurama brought all his skills to bear on Yuusuke, one floor up. Hiei's hearing was superb; he should get an earful.

FOX!! NOW!!

Kurama hung up with a decisive click. No. He wasn't going to waste a captive audience.

It was hard to keep his stern expression.

REALLY hard.

Hiei was tangled thoroughly in the rosebush and seething- carefully.

Seething too hard might mean getting a few of those foot-long thorns lodged someplace he didn't want them, and he had quite a few scrapes already, his arms and cheeks were crosshatched with scratches and his loose pants and tank top had been slit to ribbons.

Kurama thought he'd never seen a demon look so miserable.

"I'm not very happy with you," He announced to Hiei, carefully examining his nails.

"Really." Hiei snarled back. "I suppose that's why my ears are ringing."

Kurama shrugged noncommittally.

Thrash thrash thrash flinch. Pant. Blink. "Well?"

"Humm?" Kurama blinked at him, green eyes innocent as he stopped scrutinizing the stars. "Oh, Hiei. I forgot you were there. Was there something you wanted?"

"Ku... Ra... Ma..."

"Oh, yes, you can't possibly be comfortable like that." Kurama started to wave his hand, then stopped. "No.. I don't think I will."

"You tired of living, fox?" Hiei snapped.

Kurama regarded him silently. "Maybe."

Hiei tilted his head inquisitively. He hadn't expected that. "Is something bothering you, fox?"

Kurama snorted. "Do you care?"

Hiei shrugged as best he could. "Not really, but I thought I'd ask."

The roses constricted a little more, thorns digging deep into Hiei's skin. Kurama glowered. "I'm inclined to leave you there, you know. For three weeks. So you know how it feels."

"You wouldn't do that. You're too Nice."

Kurama spun on his heel, headed back to the house. "You just watch me."

"You wouldn't do that to someone you love."

The kitsune froze, and within three strides was looming over Hiei again. "What. Makes. You. Think. That?"

Hiei yawned. "You're acting weird. Ningen act weird when they're in love."

"I'm not a ningen."

"You're acting like one."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am-" Kurama bit it off. "Not getting involved in this with you. "

"You're already involved with it. With me. Drives you nuts, doesn't it, fox. It's that tainted blood you have." Hiei strained upwards to be eye to eye with Kurama, ignoring the trickles of blood trailing down his forearms. "Once you wouldn't have cared if I left for a month. Now you do. And you can't stand it. You'd sooner chew off your tail than be snared."

"I hate you," Kurama snapped, then bit his lip.

Hiei lowered his eyelids slightly, sinking back into the rosebush like it was a cozy chair. "You love me."

"Go to hell." Kurama turned again for the house.

"I'm sorry, Kurama."

Kurama caught his breath, staring fixedly into the distance and unable to look at Hiei.

"I forgot you don't think like most demons do. I shouldn't have stayed away so long." Hiei grunted in pain as the rosebush began to retract its needles. "And I've already been to hell."

"But you don't love me." Kurama's voice was flat; part of him sneered for sounding so pathetic.

Hiei sighed impatiently. "What do you want from me, Kurama? I am what I am, I thought you loved me for that." Hiei cast a venomous look at the rosebush now that he was free of it. "Don't expect me to bring you flowers." Hiei held out his hand, the unfamiliar words alien on his tounge. "But I'd like to stay with you, fox, if you'll have me as I am." He grinned wickedly, showing his fangs. "Unless you still want this skinny selfish little demon bastard to go blow-" His words were muffled by Kurama's mouth, kissing him fiercely.

"I didn't mean it, Hiei."

"Liar. I'll use you, Fox. But I'll tell you what. You can use me right back and we'll drink it as deep as it lasts. Deal?"

Kurama looked down at him, at the scrapes covering every inch of exposed skin- a lot, thanks to the shredded cloth. "Deal. For Now." He touched one thorn abraded cheek. "Let me take care of those for you."

"CH'!! FOX!!" Hiei struggled. This was torture.

"Hold still," Kurama blew on the small gash, his cool breath taking away the sting of alcohol.

Gradually Hiei's straining muscles relaxed. "I dislike this human medicine."

Kurama smiled faintly and began kissing each and every scrape on Hiei's forearm, the demon's ruby eyes widening until they threatened to overtake his sharp features. "This... is this..."

"Human medicine," Kurama answered, whispering it against Hiei's inner elbow. Hiei relaxed.

"Hn."

"You like it?"

A nod.

"I'm sorry you got hurt." Kurama glanced up at him. "But you really did deserve it."

"Maybe." Hiei pondered. "I can't tell you the things you would like me to, Fox. This is strange to me."

Kurama cradled Hiei's narrow hand in his own, so much smaller but probably even more powerful. "I shouldn't have expected it."

"But-" Hiei arched up to murmur in Kurama's ear. "I like hearing such things from you."

Kurama leaned into the hot kisses on his neck, swiveling to tangle his fingers in soft spiky black hair, brushing his mouth over the narrow bridge of Hiei's nose. "Missed you, demon brat. "

"Missed you, Baka kitsune."

"We're going to fight all the time, you know."

"Hn." Hiei was undoing pajama buttons. "Humans wear stupid things." He shook the soft cotton off Kurama's arms. "You still mad at me, fox?"

Kurama tilted his head as Hiei pulled Kurama down on top of him. "Why do you ask?"

Narrow legs wound around his waist, forcing their hips together with a soft explosion of warmth. "Because you can take it out on me now, if you want."

Kurama only hesitated a moment, memorizing Hiei's face and the expression on it before letting himself be engulfed in white hot kisses again.

It was not a proper youko relationship, but it wasn't completely human either. Kurama decided he didn't mind, there was a balance to it like his double existence. And Hiei had come back once; he would come back again.

Leaves weren't the only reliable things in this life.