hh_mirror | A whole barrel of it ((Closed, Kusuriyuri/Kurama))

Entry tags:

A whole barrel of it ((Closed, Kusuriyuri/Kurama))

Kurama was sure that one of the reasons he didn't like gods and tended to try and stay away from them was because, for some inexplicable reason, they liked to use him as a little cat-toy. Bat him around a little here, let him think he's free for a minute, then start chewing on his head for a while.

It's starting to get old, and the string of his patience has been growing short. He was sick of working in the greenhouses, bored of staying in his office or his room, and not yet intrigued enough to start really exploring the castle. What he wanted now was to be around someone calming.

Kusuriyuri, of course, was the calmest person he knew. Kurama also adored spending time with him, so it was in search of the Medicine Peddler he went, first deciding to check his office.

He paused at the door and knocked politely, in case any students were in or Kusuriyuri was busy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Winter..." he sighed, leading Kusuriyuri to one of the spiraling vines, asking permission of the Mother Tree before shaping them to a form more closely resembling stairs so they could climb easily. The Mother Tree's amusement with them was still strong, with it a strong undercurrent of deep and gentle love.

"I have never seen a winter like the ones that are rumored to happen here. A keeps mentioning Christmas... I think it's celebrated differently here."

"There was a summer Christmas," Kusuriyuri replied, leaving his geta at the base of the vines. "There were gifts and food." He smiled fondly. "A is enamored of cooking as well. He is very fond of plants that have many uses."

It was a long climb, but the top was almost as if it were meant to be a platform. The wind was strong and the rain falling when the broke through the top of the canopy. Kusuriyuri gasped at how strong the elements were here.

Kurama lost his breath for a moment; the energy here knocked him for a harder, more euphoric loop than he had anticipated. The storm growling through the sky was heavy with cold autumn rain and bright thunder, gearing itself up for one last blast before winter. He could see the towers of Hogwarts and the lake beyond from up here, as well as far out into the distance where Hogsmeade lay, even beyond that to the hills where they had first danced the storm together.

"He wants to be kind," he said, as soon as his voice returned. He smiled broadly, with love and pride and joy. "His heart is too big for him, it wants to love and protect everything. He is very good at it."

"He does," Kusuriyuri agreed. He turned to Kurama to embrace him and the wind took his headscarf, blowing it away over the trees, trying to take his hair with it. He laughed. "It seems Fuujin prefers my hair down." He was feeling giddy with the energy around them.

"I can't fault that preference," he grinned, bending so their foreheads touched. Another peal of thunder pulled itself across the sky, following the knife-lines that lightning left behind it. Underneath his feet, he could feel the mother tree, and every blade of grass, plant, and flower in the forest open themselves to the rain, rejoicing loudly.

"You like what is hidden," Kusuriyuri pointed out when the thunder quieted momentarily. "You rejoice in bringing out that which was hidden." He lifted up slightly and kissed Kurama, wrapping an arm around the kitsune's neck while opening himself up to the storm and to Kurama. There was no effort involved, he was truly dancing on the energy that surrounded them, flowed through them, and through the trees under their feet.

Kurama opened himself, bringing the energy Kusuriyuri offered into himself, reciprocating with his own. Lightning lifted itself from the ground and he could feel the earth scorch and give up its life to the sky and he shuddered, tightening his arms around Kusuriyuri and deepening the kiss.

Kusuriyuri felt himself being drawn up into the sky, felt Kurama being drawn up with him, following the path of the lightning. He was sure their feet were no longer on the canopy of the trees below them, though they were still connected. That hardly mattered. There was so much energy, and Kurama was with him in it. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to love. If they were flying, it would make perfect sense to him. He held onto Kurama, continuing their kiss, holding his mate as close as possible.

Everything was drawn up to the sky, down into the earth, following the wind and the rain with such strength that there was no longer telling where one of them began or the other ended - everything wild and bright.

There was a wildness to the storm, as if it knew it was the last of the season and had to play out its full course before the winter laid claim to the sky, barring it from returning until after the gentle rains of spring. That wildness filled them, swirling around them, feed by the Mother below them as she rejoiced with them. Rain whipped around them, the wind pulled at their skin, hair and clothes, lightning danced between the trees and the clouds, thunder echoed throughout the valley. Earth fed up through the Mother's wood, metal tinging it, bringing all the elements into play.

Kusuriyuri felt himself change, knowing it for what it was even in the midst of the chaos. He paid no heed to it, but continued to cling to Kurama, to embrace as he was embraced, to kiss as deeply as he was kissed.

Kurama answered Kusuriyuri's change, letting the energy shape him and move him as it willed. He bent to keep the kiss and felt the wind torrent around them like they were drowning in the sky. Another blast of thunder shook the air around them so hard that he was brought to his knees, forced to either pull Kusuriyuri with him or break the kiss. He refuse the latter, so pulled Kusuriyuri down into his arms, holding him tightly and completely.

The wind tangled and entwined their hair, pulling it up and away from their scalps as it did. Kusuriyuri continued the downward motion, pressing Kurama down until they were laying on the canopy, the wind whipping at his body, his clothing, trying to pull him away even as he wrapped his limbs around his kitsune.

Knock it off, wind, Kurama thought, a grin pulling at his mouth. You can't have him.

He curled around his lover, shielding him from the insistent pull of the storm, drawing him close, twining his fingers through hair and cloth so he could trail kisses along Kusiriyuri's cheek, whispering his name so quietly that the wind couldn't hope to make it drift away.

Through the energy and chaos around them, Kurama's voice whispering his name reached him and pulled him closer to the kitsune in ways that mattered more than physically. He responded by whispering Kurama's name, his true name, not the identities he'd assumed nor the pet name Kusuriyuri had given him.

The storm was reaching its climax, dying out though it struggled to continue on. It refused to die quietly. It would rage until it had nothing left, rage until the fire was gone out of the air, leaving the night time cold. It promised the first frost of the season in its wake. But for now, it raged.

The wind began to weaken, whipping now in short, exhausted bursts instead of the constant torrent, and the rain paused with it - now gentle, now cutting - until at last it died, fading into a soft, still breath.

He buried his face in Kusuriyuri's shoulder, sighing contentedly.
"Next spring is going to be interesting," he murmured.

"This season of quite should prove of interest," Kusuriyuri murmured softly. He could still feel the energy of the storm, of the trees below them, though it had faded somewhat with the passing of the storm. He felt more alive than he had in some time. He laughed a little, joy he could not contain. "Tell me what you anticipate," he said, turning to kiss Kurama's temple.

"An entire winter to wait for the first storm of spring... I have a feeling it will be spectacular." He grinned widely and turned Kusuriyuri so his back was to Kurama's front, and leaned back against the trunk of the Mother Tree, fully relaxed and content. "Though there's always a chance of a winter storm."

Kusuriyuri wrapped Kurama's arms around him. He looked up at the sky, seeing it differently through the eyes of his other form. He laughed a moment. "I have never danced a winter storm. I tended toward the south in the winter." Soon, it would be too cold to remain where they were, but for now, energy still danced along his skin, keeping him warm and comfortable. "With you, if it can be done, I should like to try," he sighed, letting his head rest against Kurama's shoulder.

"I promise to keep you warm all winter, it will keep me from wanting to hibernate," he joked.

Kusuriyuri caressed Kurama's arms. "That would make the winter most enjoyable," he murmured. He sighed, feeling the energy slowly starting to ebb into the night as the storm died out and the winds calmed. The feeling of something scared lingered, though, enveloping them in warmth. "The Mother is pleased with us," he said, somewhat bemused.

Kurama tossed back his head and laughed, long and hard.
"Aha, ahh, yes, I imagine she would be." He patted the branch affectionately, feeling the return amusement from her. "I suspect she doesn't have many visitors quite like you an I."

Kusuriyuri chuckled and moved so he was facing Kurama again, kneeling over his lap. "I would doubt it," he murmured, leaning in and kissing the kitsune. There was still enough energy, enough life around them to have him feeling somewhat intoxicated with it.

Kurama leaned, letting Kusuriyuri drape over him as they kissed. He pushed his hands underneath the damp barrier of Kusuriyuri's clothing, longing for skin that was still a small bit unfamiliar than the touch he knew so well. His energy was different too - wilder, impassioned - Kurama's head swam around the currents of it and he was very glad for the support underneath him.

Kusuriyuri ached for Kurama's touch, needed it. The energy in him needed release and he needed the kitsune. He could feel the Mother's encouragement, though if he were more himself or less needful, this would cause some reticence. He threaded his fingers through Kurama's hair and this brought a little order to the chaos. He needed more, though.

Kurama was more than willing to indulge the Mother's encouragement, and shrugged out of his tunic - or tried to. The fabric stuck to his skin with infuriating stubbornness, trapping him inside it even as he pulled heavy silk off Kusuriyuri's back. He almost asked Kusuriyuri to help... but hands in his hair, close to his ears, felt so good...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject