Disclaimer: Togashi's gay boys
Warnings: BL, fluff, drabble, clicheeeeeeeeeeeee
Author's Note: Cheesy title is cheesy. Also cliche fic is cliche. For yomimashou, who likes fluff as a desert to her tentacles.
Kurama remembers happiness, back in the old days, back in Makai. He remembers the adrenaline rush as he snuck into a building, veiled in the harsh black of night, past guards and booby traps, he remembers the glow of triumph that came with being in, and feeling of impenetrability as he cracked the safe or opened the chest and retrieved his prize. He remembers being king of the world as he slipped back outside, the feeling of pure joy as he raced from the crime scene, the icy sharpness of cold, midnight air in his lungs, stolen object in hand, the authorities still clueless that something had gone wrong. He remembers, having seamlessly escaped, holding the trophy at his fingertips, smiling and knowing that he was indestructible and he was flawless and that that was most definitely happiness.
Now, Kurama lays in the grass in the small wooded area near the rear of a local park, smiling contentedly to himself, because he knows. Hiei is wrapped up in his arms, draped partly on top of him, looking into his eyes drowsily in a comfortable haze of almost sleep. Around them, a warm purple night hangs in the air around the glowing streetlights in the distance, and Kurama can't help but feel cozy, here, together like this. There is no urgency to move, no strong desire to do anything but stay here, together, tangled in one another. The late spring air is soft and warm, like a giant blanket above them, the smell of the grass is pleasant around them. As he watches Hiei drifting off on his shoulder, Kurama remembers his complaints about wasting time, about doing nothing, and his smile spreads wider on his lips as he presses a soft kiss to Hiei's cheek. Hiei opens his eyes for a moment, and Kurama is pleased to achieve his prize, a tiny smile which dances briefly across Hiei's lips before disappearing again into sleepiness. Kurama lets his head fall back into the grass, even though he knows he's getting leaves all tangled into his hair, because sleep is seeming like a good idea about now to him, too, and because he knows. He knows that this is most definitely happiness.