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intobarbarians · 4 years ago

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part twelve to clothes

Kuwabara catches the tail end of Kurama’s explanation for Hiei’s...condition.

“Basically, his vocal cords can refract light.”

“Uh-huh.” Botan dangles a piece of cinnamon candy in front of Hiei’s stubbornly sealed mouth, a sweet bribe for a demonstration. “But where do they get the light to make rainbows in the first place?”

The candy starts glowing under Hiei’s hot glare. Botan cries out, dropping the candy and blowing her fingers. Eikichi emerges from her hiding spot under the table to chase the fallen candy across the faux sheepskin rug in the living room.

Kuwabara winces. Big mistake. Shizuru, normally content to let shenanigans run their course, creeps up behind Hiei and snares him in a chokehold. He gasps, gagging forth a beautiful rainbow--Kuwabara’s imagination supplies the soundtrack of angels singing.

Botan sticks her tongue out at Hiei, her honor avenged by her girlfriend.

“The spell probably takes advantage of the vestigial sac behind Hiei’s lungs,” Kurama muses.

The what behind Hiei’s where now? “Are you saying Hiei’s ancestors used to breathe fire?”

Kurama nods. “Fire, ice, poison, electricity--take your pick. Personally, I had sweat glands removed from my hands and feet when I was Yoko. They’re great for marking territory--not so great for stealing without leaving evidence behind.”

Hiei’s mouth clicks shut to deprive everyone of further rainbows. He swings his elbow around to dislodge Shizuru. He misses by a mile because she’s the most powerful psychic in the country and because Hiei would never actually hurt her. Hiei flattens his mouth, focusing on the bubble Shizuru steadily blows in his face. She dumps a glass of water on his head before the gum can heat up a single degree.

Botan hands Hiei a towel from the linen closet to signal a ceasefire.

He takes the checkered print cloth and dries his hair. Apparently, Hiei’s got some control over the spell: three rainbows spill out of his mouth, twirling together in hills that leap across the width of the house. Shizuru and Botan cheer and applaud, delighted with the light show. Hiei bows, a one-demon act soaking up the audience’s appreciation before the curtain falls.

Kuwabara and Kurama clap, too. “How long will this last?”

“Oh, forever,” Kurama says. “It doesn’t go away until the antidote is digested.”

Hiei gestures at Shizuru for something to write with. He jabs a finger in Botan’s direction until she produces another piece of cinnamon candy from her pocket. The finger doesn’t retreat. She gives him the whole bag with a slight sniff.

It takes a minute for Kuwabara to recognize the grocery list Hiei shoves under his nose. “Hey, we have all this stuff at home.”

The triple eye roll is uncalled for. Hiei grabs Kuwabara’s wrist and drags him to the door, waving goodbye to Shizuru, Botan, and Kurama.

Kuwabara mouths to Botan as he passes by, “I’ll buy you another bag of candy.”

Botan mimes clicking a camera. Of course, she’d prefer blackmail instead.

***

Hiei marches Kuwabara all the way to the apartment.

“This shop has an incredible mocha.” Not that Hiei is willing to enjoy one publicly at this particular moment. “Oh, and that place has really good bagels! You want one? My treat.”

It’s a good thing Hiei is wearing a shirt so Kuwabara can fully appreciate the menace on his face.

Kuwabara smothers a laugh. Someone is impatient to remove a unicorn’s curse. He’d feel sorry for Hiei if he hadn’t insulted the unicorn’s mane, which is literally the only thing Koenma said not to do.

Hiei keeps a firm hand on Kuwabara and spitefully plucks an ad off of a street lamp with the other. Kuwabara watches it sail into the trashcan. The ad is the telltale peach color the kids encroaching on Yusuke’s ramen cart use on all of their posters.

He offers to buy Hiei snacks right up until they breeze through the building lobby to the elevators. His wallet will pay for this in the future, he just knows it.

Kuwabara fishes one-handed in his pockets for his key. It’s not until he opens the door and Hiei’s eyes zero in on the shelves that Kuwabara realizes Hiei hasn’t let go of his hand the entire trip home.

He misses it immediately when Hiei drops his grip in favor of inspecting Kuwabara’s DIY prowess.

Eyebrow preaches from a thought bubble above his head. “If he doesn’t mention marriage, dump him.”

Hiei’s not fit to mention anything at the moment. He takes off his boots and neatly lines them up by the front door, then hops on the counter with all the grace of a gymnast. The step ladder is bypassed entirely.

He shouldn’t feel this nervous. “Do you like it?”

Hiei points at the shelves, then slowly brings his finger just above his own heart.

“Yeah,” Kuwabara says. “They’re for you.”

The strength of the screws and the discounted stud finder is promptly tested as Hiei descends on the jars. He empties the shelves and begins a frankly terrifying organizational process that Kuwabara can’t make immediate sense of, so Kuwabara steps away and starts working on the antidote.

He rummages through the drawer beneath the oven and grabs a steel pot that he bought for three bucks at the charity shop next to his old university for the express purpose of potion-making. The grocery list says to boil three cups of water.

Does he need to be precise? Kuwabara usually eyeballs stuff when he’s cooking, but magic is not his sister’s katsudon. Well, it is, but not this kind of magic.

Hiei rattles the candy bag for his attention. Kuwabara holds out his palm. “Thanks.” The cinnamon is fresh and sweet on his tongue. “Can you pass me the uh--hm.” How the fuck is this ingredient pronounced? He’s only ever read the word. “The mm...nur...driv...can you pass me the jar next to your foot, please?”

Kuwabara reads the label to make sure the contents won’t turn his brain into a flock of birds or anything. He opens the top and sniffs. The dried leaves are fragrant and earthy, the forest after a night’s hard rain.

Hiei taps his shoulder. He rotates a closed fist on the flat of his hand.

“Grind it up. Gotcha.”

Kuwabara likes how domestic antidote brewing is. Hiei hands him the ingredients with additional instructions if necessary, sharing cinnamon candy while he arranges the shelves to his liking. The apartment has never felt more like home.

From the safety of the thought bubble, Eyebrow observes, “Maybe he won’t ask because you already are married.”

#my fic #yyh #hiei x kuwabara #hxk clothes fic

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