Naruto One-Shot (Yaoi)

Illness

Something wasn't quite right with the world, Kurama concluded looking around at the silent, blank expanse that surrounded the stone ground he laid upon. Naruto's mind had always been in motion in some way – the black sky a reflection of the world as the blond perceived it; the feel of wind flowing through his fur from the breeze of Naruto flying through the forests at incredible speeds; the smell of spices permeated the air as the blond joined his comrades for food. And then there was Naruto himself; Naruto, the one who filled the void with sounds when there were none to be had; Naruto, who regularly visited and spent long periods of time talking about anything and everything to the one person who knew him best.

Naruto, who was currently laying atop the crest of Kurama's head, asleep. It was extremely odd, he mused, that the first time Naruto consciously appeared before him and was quiet, the blond was asleep. All the other times, ranging from the blond's first conscious appearance four years previously to the early days when the the teen was a baby that would appear within the strange mindscape to be consoled by the chakra imprint of his parents while they glared balefully at Kurama, Naruto had made some kind of noise to be noticed. Now, though, it was... different. He remembered the first time Naruto had clambered atop the Biju, laying down and stretching his reach as far as possible, threading his hands through his crimson fur, and saying how soft the Biju's fur was–

Kurama let out an extremely undignified (and embarrassingly, amazingly high-pitched) shriek as a line of wet and warm liquid trailed it's way down his neck and along his spine from the lump that was Naruto. He twisted and turned, trying to stop the flow with one of his paws (because he'd be damned if he had to use his tails; he liked his tails to be prim and proper at all times thankyouverymuch), only for a light thwack from Naruto to halt his movements.

"St'p m'vin'." The blond grumbled, his (incredibly hoarse) voice coming from the source of the disturbing wetness that had made it's way almost halfway down his spine. Kurama wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disgusted by the revelation that it was drool running down his neck and not something much... different, and from the other end of the blond's body.

The two had gotten considerably more relaxed around one another, but Kurama drew the line at bodily functions (especially on his fur).

"...why are you drooling on me?" And not on something that was not-Kurama? Really, the least Naruto could do is materialize a bed to drool on instead of him.

"...c'mfy." Naruto finally muttered, and Kurama shuddered as another line of drool flowed down his neck to join the first. His fur puffed up in (half-hearted and empty) indignation as Naruto essentially dismissed him to go back to dreamland. Kurama sighed, laying his head down on his forepaws (if he couldn't stop the drool, at least he could prevent it moving down his neck and spine any more than it already had) as he tried napping.

The next day saw Kurama staring intensely at Naruto as the blond laid at the base of his tails. More specifically, he was staring at Naruto's mouth, waiting for the drool he just knew was building up in the teen's mouth to spill out. Once it did, he was prepared to relocate the dozing blond to somewhere less dangerous to the integrity of his tails, like his paws. He didn't care if Naruto drooled all over his feet, really.

The blond twitched, curling into a tiny ball, a grimace contorting his face as he shivered, pulling himself closer to the base of one of Kurama's tails (Kurama's eye didn't twitch; really, it didn't). The moment Naruto's body made contact with the tail, the Biju became aware of just how hot the blond was (and not in the attractive way – which Naruto certainly was – but in the higher body temperature than normal way).

"Naruto?" Kurama asked, concerned for his (probably more than a) friend. Said friend twitched in response, curling tighter against the Biju's tail, but made no verbal attempt to reply. "...are you... okay?"