Disclaimer: Nothing's mine except the story. So basically, nothing. Not even the leather pants! *cries*
A/N: I wrote this while on a hormonal high. ^^
I've finally seen Youko Kurama (it's not Yoko – Funimation spelled it wrong!) and I'm high! Ehehehehe! I'm high off Karasu too! Ahahaha! Maybe I'll write a ficlet for him too! Puahahaha!
Er . . . I'm okay. ^^;; On to more serious matters. There are some, ah, potentially offensive things in here. But if you love Youko Kurama, tight leather pants, and most important of all, Youko Kurama in tight leather pants, you should be fine. Especially if you wanna see him doing things other than (and much hotter than) just fighting. Read at your own risk. It's more silly than anything else, but still . . .. That's all I have to say. ^_^
Kurama had been feeling very strange lately. For example, he had come in once half an hour past the curfew his mother had set for him as a boy (gasp!). Also, he was going out of the house without making his bed – at least twice a week. In short, he was feeling the overwhelming desire to be bad and enjoying it, too.
Not to mention that sometimes he got the wild urge to rip off his clothes in public and shake his ass for all it was worth.
But he ignored it. He knew what it was – just that crazy Youko alter-ego of his bubbling with pent-up energy underneath his perfect Shuiichi facade. If he continued to ignore it, the insane urges would go away. At least, he hoped.
One day, however, Kurama found out that he was terribly wrong. He was reading a book, minding his own business, when all of a sudden, the room swam before his eyes, and the first thing he knows when all is right again, he's seven feet tall and in his Youko form. How ironic that the book he happened to be reading was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Kurama looked into the enormous mirror he kept over his dresser. (Yes, he insisted on that huge mirror when he got his room. Being beautiful is a 24-hour maintenance job and it isn't easy.) His clothes, unaccustomed to their owner growing from six feet to seven feet in two seconds, had ripped and burst at the seams, giving him a rather grungy punk-rock look. All in all, it was decidedly sexy.
He tossed his gorgeous silver hair and stared in the mirror. "Oh, yes, you sexy bitch." Feeling very pleased with himself, he gazed at himself while he made pouty faces and struck supermodel poses.
No one knows how long he spent there. But finally, he decided to actually do something.
"First, I need to get rid of these clothes. They're hot, but I have something better . . .." And with these words, he turned to his closet.
Plunging straight into the very back, he came out with a box labeled "In Case of Emergencies." He smirked. Shuiichi had known this day was coming, and had prepared for it, whatever he might say about never letting Youko out again. Well, he was out, and he was going to enjoy the time he had unfettered by his better – and more boring – half.
Upon opening the box, he found a pair of incredibly tight black leather pants, a flowing white silk dress shirt, and black leather boots. He quickly put all on, and left at least five buttons on the shirt unbuttoned. Leaving plenty of delicious chest exposed.
Unnoticed by anyone, he walked out of the house, whistling not-so-innocently as he thought about his first destination. He was going to pay Yusuke a visit.
When he arrived, Atsuko opened the door. Her mouth went slack, and her eyes widened to twice their normal size.
"K – Kurama?" It was amazing, Kurama reflected, how much lust could be put into one word. But then, it was his name. He decided it was perfectly normal and to be expected.
"Hello, Atsuko. Is Yusuke home?" He tried not too sound too sultry. After all, she was Yusuke's mother.
All she could do was nod.
Kurama smiled a twisted smile, then sauntered to Yusuke's room. Behind him, he was sure he heard Atsuko rush to the bathroom and start a cold shower.
Never forgetting his manners, he knocked on the door, and Yusuke opened it. He grinned when he saw who was there.
"Kurama! Hey! What's . . .." The smile dropped as he took in how Kurama was dressed.
"What's what, Yusuke?" Kurama smiled as innocently as he could, as he ambled into the room.
"I . . . you . . .." Yusuke didn't seem capable of stringing two words together. Kurama noticed smugly that he was staring at his rear, where his sweeping tail poked out of his pants. He'd tailored these pants specifically for his tail, and knew it was extremely form-fitting.
"Yes?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"Your pants – are – so – tight!" The last word was a choked squeal.
"They are tight, aren't they?" Kurama purred deliberately. "Do you like these pants, Yusuke? Would you like it if they were even tighter?"
Yusuke nodded slowly, gulping.
Kurama slunk closer, making sure that every movement accentuated just how tight his pants were.
"Would you -," he began, in a voice no louder than a whisper, next to Yusuke's ear. He didn't get to finish his sentence, however, because at that moment, Yusuke fainted.
"Hmm. He didn't last quite as long as I thought he would," Kurama thought aloud. "Oh well!" His face brightened again as he said, "Now I can move on to my next victim."
When he turned around, he met Keiko's large and horrified eyes. She must have been visiting Yusuke as well, he thought, amused.
"Kurama!" she shrieked, clapping her hands to her mouth. "What have you done to Yusuke?"
He lowered his eyelids till only the merest glitter could be seen under his eyelashes, and murmured softly, "Yusuke? Your boyfriend?"
Keiko, only now fully taking in Kurama's appearance, was stupefied, and only squeaked.
"You don't need him, Keiko. Do you know why?"
He paused, more for effect than anything else, because Keiko was obviously incapable of responding.
"Because I'm incredibly hot. I am all the man you'll ever need." Here he fully opened his eyes, and turned his intense golden gaze on her.
Her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed.
"Hn. That was too easy," Kurama grinned, unconsciously stealing Hiei's favorite word.
Now that Yusuke and Keiko were vanquished, Kurama turned his thoughts to other places, other people, and almost didn't see Atsuko as she stepped out of the bathroom, fastening a bathrobe firmly around her waist.
Kurama grinned wickedly. He could have some fun with her.
"Atsuko, you've already taken a shower?"
Yusuke's mother moved her lips soundlessly.
"You didn't wait for me?"
I think I'll go see Kuwabara now, he thought complacently. Yes. Kuwabara.
Quickly and quietly, he made his way to Kuwabara's house, where he let himself in, a small blast of ki enough to destroy the pathetic ningen lock on the door.
On the way upstairs to Kuwabara's room, he ran into Shizuru.
"Holy shit, Kurama."
Kurama clucked his tongue in slight irritation. He'd wanted to deal with Shizuru later; he knew she'd be harder to get. He decided swiftly that it would be best to take her out in one hit, instead of toying with her like he had with Keiko.
She, meanwhile, had looked him up and down, and then panted, "Tear off your clothes and take me."
He leaned in and said huskily, "My room. 10:30 tonight."
And after a carefully timed pause, "Bring a friend."
Shizuru dropped like a stone, and he caught her in order that Kuwabara might not hear her hit the floor. Not a bad body, he thought.
Cautiously, he advanced to Kuwabara's room, and entered. Kuwabara was spread-eagled on his bed, reading a manga. He raised his head when he heard Kurama come in.
"Kurama? What are you doing here?" Then, after looking at Kurama's outfit, said in a half-disgusted, half-awed tone, "And what are you thinking?"
"Why don't you read my mind, pretty boy?" Kurama asked teasingly, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in an undeniably manly posture.
An extremely nauseated expression crossed Kuwabara's face as he heard Kurama's little term of endearment, but he probed Kurama's mind as Kurama had asked.
When he'd found what Kurama had wanted him to find, he turned an interesting shade of green.
"You dirty bastard!" yelled Kuwabara, pointing at Kurama in horror.
"Isn't that how you like it, Kuwabara? Down and dirty?" An amused smile played across his lips.
On the bed, Kuwabara was at once gasping for breath. Kurama chuckled, walked to the bed while taking his own sweet time, and then in front of Kuwabara's face, tantalizingly licked his own lips slowly. Kuwabara went down.
After he straightened up, he became aware of a light footstep behind him. He turned around, and saw Yukina. Interesting, he thought, how Yukina had been visiting Kuwabara like Keiko had been with Yusuke, and how both had been in the bathroom or something while he had taken out their boyfriends. Interesting. And convenient.
But Yukina was probably going to be more difficult than he had first thought, he noticed, as she looked at him. She was so innocent. So naive.
"Kurama?" she said softly. "What are you doing? And what happened to Kazuma?"
"Yukina," he drawled sensually, "have you been a good girl lately?"
Yukina furrowed her brow. "Well . . . yes, I suppose." Her eyes flickered to Kuwabara's senseless form.
"Have you?" The corners of Kurama's mouth twitched lazily. "I don't think so. I think you've been a very bad girl."
Poor Yukina opened her mouth in disbelief and stared at Kurama, totally forgetting about Kuwabara.
"In fact, I think you need punishment. Bad girls need punishment. Yukina, you need a spanking. Badly."
Letting out a small sigh, Yukina keeled over. Kurama wasn't entirely sure whether that was because of his astonishing sexiness or because of the shocking things he'd said. He preferred to think it was the former.
His job there done, he pranced (or pranced nearly as well as anyone can prance in pants that are so tight that they must be cutting off circulation) out of the house.
Back in Reikai, Koenma had noticed the funny business.
"Botan," he said in a troubled voice, watching the screen where Kurama was prancing out on a sidewalk, "something's obviously wrong with Kurama."
"I'll say," she replied, staring at Kurama.
"I want you to go talk to him, see if you can get any sense out of him, and, more importantly, stop him. He could get dangerous." Koenma looked over at her.
"Yes, sir. I agree," she sighed, shaking her head at Kurama's scandalous behavior.
"Be careful," he warned.
The sensation of the wind whipping through her powder blue hair was a refreshing feeling, as Botan dipped and wheeled through the sky on her oar, searching for Kurama. She spotted him at last, and swooped down to talk to him.
"Kurama!" she called, stopping at his side. "I saw what you were doing! I demand an explanation! Why are you in your demon form?"
He had seen her coming, and, with a mocking smile settled on his lips, let a silence stretch out for a long while. Botan began fidgeting. He was sure it wasn't just from nervousness, because her violet eyes didn't seem to be able to tear themselves away from his body. They traveled up and down his finely toned arms and alluring chest, down his tight behind, down his slender, long legs. They went over his foxy ears, his rippling lustrous hair, and his beautiful fine tail.
At last, he inquired seductively, "Do you like what you see? Or perhaps," he gave a little laugh, "I should ask, do you see what you like?"
Botan made the grave mistake of looking into those hypnotic amber eyes and cried in a half-ecstasy, "Oh, yes. Oh, yes!"
Kurama twitched his ears in the cutest way he knew how to, and heard her breathy gasps. Then he flirted his tail in a manner that had been scientifically proven to be hazardously sexy. He was about to toss his glossy hair, when it proved unnecessary. Botan fell off her oar, and probably would have cracked her head open if Kurama hadn't caught her.
She's got a nice figure too, he thought absently. Better than Shizuru's, actually.
He carried her to the shade of a tree and left her there. After all, Youko Kurama might have been good enough to prevent Botan from getting a concussion, but he wouldn't guard her sleep for the rest of the day. Not when he had, ahem, more important things to do. Let her take it as a warning not to meddle in his affairs if some pervert took advantage of her incapacitated state and started feeling her up. It was none of his business. And despite his earlier thoughts about her physique, he wasn't going to be the one feeling her up. He didn't have a preference for bubbly blue-headed ferry girls.
Koenma had, in the meantime, been watching the whole thing. With a sad shake of his head, he decided that he would be the one who had to stop Kurama. It was obvious that Kurama was quickly becoming a menace to society. If a sexy menace, a menace nonetheless.
Kurama, who had forgotten all about the little encounter as soon as he strode away, absorbed in other things (which we shall soon come to), also forgot that Koenma had probably sent Botan and thus would also be coming too.
The author assumes that the reader must know why Kurama was acting so by now. It wasn't to get off – if he had wanted to do that, he would have left his victims conscious, and furthermore, he would have picked more attractive people. With his good looks (and those leather pants), he could have gotten anybody he wanted.
No, he was doing this for the power. Youko was a notorious sadist, and he loved the feeling of power he got from causing people to swoon with his hotness. It made him even more egotistic than usual. And that's saying a lot.
If there was one thing Kurama enjoyed more than sex, it was getting a good ego boost.
By now, some of the people walking around Tokyo had noticed the yummy bishounen running around. As a matter of fact, Kurama had about a whole schoolful of girls stalking him. He'd noticed immediately, of course, with his keen nose, but it didn't worry him. As soon as any girl got closer than twenty feet away from him, they'd drop into a faint. That was because within twenty feet, the sight of his lean muscles rippling under the black leather and white silk were too much for any normal ningen to bear, and so he was safe from a stampede of mad fan girls.
What he was worried about was Hiei. His next victim. Of course Hiei would be difficult. But he knew Hiei's secret weakness –
In front of him Koenma materialized as if from nowhere. Which is what he probably did, but anyway, Kurama stopped dead and sneered at Koenma, his lip curling. This was something he hadn't been counting on. Koenma was the prince of Reikai. Still a toddler. Who knew if his amazing sexual prowess had any effect on him?
In back of them, the girls who had been following Kurama all dropped to the ground in a dead faint when they saw Koenma. One bishounen was quite enough, but two were overkill.
Koenma raised his eyebrows when he heard the breathy sighs of the girls who fainted, and looked inquisitively at Kurama.
"What can I say?" Kurama grinned devilishly. "I'm irresistible."
"You're also in a lot of trouble," Koenma began sternly. "I want to know why you've been doing what you've been doing -."
Kurama simply moved closer.
Koenma twitched slightly. "What are you doing, Kurama?"
Kurama had decided to give it his best shot. He flattered himself that he knew what might turn Koenma into a pile of quivering jelly. It was possible that Koenma had hormones that he could put into overdrive. So when he was less than a foot away from Koenma, he leaned down and put his hand gently over Koenma's pacifier, to signal him to stop talking.
Koenma gulped. Hard.
"Tell me what you like, Koenma," coaxed Kurama in a tone so caressing it was barely more than a sigh.
From the look on Koenma's face, it was apparent to Kurama that Koenma was susceptible to his charms. Excellent.
"I think you like this. Am I right?" He slowly raised his right hand to his mouth and licked each one of his fingers languidly.
Koenma started trembling and his pacifier fell out. Then Kurama inserted his index finger into his mouth and sucked it. Koenma was out cold.
He fell over, but Kurama didn't bother to catch him. That particular service he reserved solely for the ladies.
Kurama grinned. He'd thought Koenma had a thing for objects in mouths, just from looking at the way he sucked on his pacifier all day. What a sad, pathetic sicko.
He looked down at the floored Koenma and the mile-long line of girls stretched out on the pavement and thought, Who says blonds have more fun?
Now, on to Hiei.
As Kurama made his way to the park, where he could smell Hiei, he thought complacently that he was so sexy that it should be against the law.
Hiei was indeed in the park, perched in a tree, and watching the world go by. Kurama sneered slightly. How could he waste time like that? Oh, well. Kurama supposed it was because Hiei wasn't sexy like he was and therefore had no purpose in life. It made sense to him. Pitiful Hiei.
Hiei's eyes betrayed no emotion as they surveyed Kurama, who was tilting his head up slightly to face Hiei. But Kurama was sure Hiei felt uneasy.
"It's nice to see you in this form again," Hiei said indifferently. "What are you doing?"
Hah! Maybe this would be easier than he'd thought, if Hiei was already complimenting his looks.
However, after Hiei looked closely at his clothes, he said scornfully, "But why are you wearing those . . . things? They're so impractical. You can't fight in them."
"They may be impractical for fighting," answered Kurama in a coquettish tone, "but they're most practical for other things."
Hiei narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to seduce me, Kurama?"
Always blunt and straight to the point, Hiei. Kurama smiled inwardly.
"Yes," he replied, making up his mind to be as straightforward as Hiei was going to be.
Hiei laughed derisively. "It's not going to work. Don't flatter yourself that I can't resist you."
It didn't unnerve Kurama that Hiei wasn't stunned at the news that Kurama was trying to seduce him. Hiei knew him better than anyone else, and while he preferred the Youko form of Kurama, he was aware of its disturbingly prevalent predilection for anything having to do with sex.
Besides, Kurama knew Hiei was wrong. He knew Hiei's greatest weakness.
Hiei was a closet S&M freak.
The vines which he had been stealthily controlling ever since he got within range of Hiei abruptly tightened and lowered Hiei to Kurama's level.
Hiei's eyes widened in surprise. Then they contorted in rage. "Let me go, Kurama," he hissed. "Or you'll regret it." Privately, Hiei thought he'd make Kurama regret it whether or not he let him go.
"I don't think so," Kurama laughed. He sent his ki through the vines, to ensure that Hiei couldn't burn through the vines. Even Hiei was no match for Youko Kurama.
"You bastard! I'll kill you! Let me go!" Hiei raged and twisted in his bonds.
"Now, Hiei," said Kurama gleefully, "the fun begins." He drew a rose lovingly from his hair and flicked it out into a whip. One without thorns, but nevertheless a dangerous weapon.
At the sight of the whip, Hiei was quaking even more badly than Koenma had been.
"Relax," Kurama said soothingly. "I know you're going to enjoy this."
Two hours later, Hiei was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and nearly hyperventilating.
"I won't – give – in," he snarled through clenched teeth.
"You've lasted remarkably long," Kurama agreed, smiling pleasantly. "But you'll capitulate, like the rest of them."
"Never!" Hiei's livid red eyes flashed and Kurama merely chuckled deeply.
Kurama drew his sharp nails lightly across Hiei's bare chest, and said thoughtfully, "I wonder what I could do that would defeat you. Your defenses are tough, Hiei." He gave a little mock sigh.
Hiei growled in the back of his throat but said nothing.
Tapping his finger on his chin, Kurama eyed Hiei with a look that made Hiei feel as if he were a fish about to be gutted and eaten for dinner.
Finally, after a few minutes, Kurama's eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers delightedly.
"I've got it!" he cried jubilantly.
Foaming at the mouth by now, Hiei spat out a string of curses.
"Watch closely, Hiei," Kurama instructed, smiling widely.
As much as he hated it, Hiei was unable to close his eyes or turn away.
Kurama raised his arms and, smiling, began to switch his hips from side to side.
"No . . ." moaned Hiei in terror.
"That's it," Kurama urged sibilantly, "keep watching!"
Before long, Hiei was mesmerized by the snakelike motion of Kurama's hips.
"The hips . . ." was all Hiei could mutter before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
His victory (and egotistic needs) now complete, Kurama skipped (again, as much as anyone wearing pants so tight that any mere mortal who would be foolish enough to attempt wearing would be blue in the face and gasping for breath in three seconds can skip) back home. Once there, he undressed (which was probably all he needed to do in the first place to knock Hiei out – silly kitsune) and turned back into Shuiichi. Then he put his normal clothes on. And for the sake of . . . um, the author does not know, but she just enjoys describing the clothing he wears . . . anyway, he was wearing tight (but not as tight as those wicked leather pants) black jeans, and a fresh bamboo-colored button-up shirt, which interestingly enough, he left partially unbuttoned. He decided against putting a long black leather trench coat on because he wasn't going outside, but he knew he was going to be wearing black leather a lot from then on. Needless to say, his whole outlook on fashion changed dramatically from that day on.
Right now, though, he was only thinking one thing: I should do that more often.
A/N: Whoo . . . that was an incredible experience. I wonder what would happen if Kurama was putting those moves on me? (I wish.) *Starts sweating* I'd probably crumple into a boneless puddle and beg him to put me out of my misery. ^^;;
And the line "My room. 10:30 tonight. Bring a friend." is from the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Not mine.
Please review, people! Or I'll send Kurama after you in his tight leather pants and his eeevil whip! veg
Oh wait . . . you'd probably like that. Damn.