Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Waiting on a Wish	By : Quillwing717 Category: InuYasha > General Views: 42891 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter
16

The
third floor hallway was softly quiet--just like the rest of the
building. No random sounds, just a peaceful stillness that permeated
the entire building.

Kagome
stared at the door in front of her, chewing anxiously on her bottom
lip as she tried to sort through the swirling, mixed-up pit of
emotions churning up her stomach. Nerves, anger, fear--it was all
there, blending in an odd confusion and wrapping bands of tension
through her entire body. Minutes ticked by as she just stood
there--long, drawn-out seconds that taunted her with her inaction.

InuYasha
was here, somewhere behind that door. Alone. Human. Not expecting
her.

Would
he be angry? She didn’t want to fight with him--not really.
That wasn’t why she’d come tonight.

Her
heart was suddenly thudding loudly in her chest. The smooth and
jagged edges of the key in her hand dug almost painfully into her
palm, clenched there by a tense fist. She was stunned to find herself
unable to push forward, to use the key and step inside.

And
Kagome realized that getting into the building was the easiest thing
she was going to do tonight. It had been almost too easy, really. The
well-kept concrete of the front walk had been a simple traverse, the
chilly night air almost reassuring in its calmness, and the polished
mahogany of the front doors had offered no resistance.

Such
a beautiful building he lived in, she mused, troubled blue eyes
tracing the outline of his front door. She’d never seen an
apartment building like it before, and couldn’t help but marvel
as she’d made her way upward.

It
had a lovely little foyer just beyond the front entrance, with
marble--yes, marble--flooring and that pretty, carved arch leading
into the rest of the building. The stairway (no elevators that she
could see) had been at the end of the ground-floor hallway, with its
carved balustrade and polished steps leading up through each floor.
Wide, carpeted hallways, an irregular distribution of front doors,
and soft lighting--all spoke of a simplicity and elegance that modern
building just didn’t have.

It
felt more like a refurbished mansion than a normal apartment
building--which made her even more curious about Jinenji and his
mother, and the history of their place. She made mental note to ask
about it when she next visited with Jinenji.

Assuming
she got the chance to visit with him again.

It
had taken her less than ten minutes to find her way to the top, and
she had neither seen nor heard another living soul as she ascended
the stairs. No general sounds of life bled through the walls as she
passed the through the halls of the first two floors. Even her own
footsteps had seemed muffled against the bare wood of the stairs.

Either
the residents don’t make any noise, she’d mused
silently to herself, or the insulation is incredible.

Well,
the building was built with youkai senses in mind, right?

And
now she stood in the middle of the hallway on the third floor, in
front of the only door on the level, and couldn’t seem to find
the courage to open the door. Her fingers uncurled themselves from
around the key, and she stared down at the metal in her palm. Was
this really the right thing to do? Just spring it on him that she
knew?

But
Miroku knows, and he’s not even sleeping
with him.

She
almost grinned at that.

Sango
knows too, but she’s sleeping with Miroku.

The
hint of a grin faded back into solemnity. And what did both of their
friends have in common? InuYasha’s trust. He’d given it
to them, but he hadn’t seen fit to give it to her.

Her
mind prodded her, reminded her, bombarded her with images. The
orphanage, and all the different times when she’d seen many of
those precious little ones suffer through the temporary loss of their
powers. Most of the children at the orphanage came from a background
that wasn’t all that pleasant; their dulled human senses
frightened them, and the accompanying loss of a sense of well-being
even more so. Most of the children hid themselves away until it was
over.

She
was already well versed on the significance of a hanyou’s human
night. Was it really too much to expect him to trust her with his
secret? They’d already shared their bodies; was it
really so big a leap to share something like this?

Maybe.

She
sighed, and felt her shoulders slump just a little in guilt. InuYasha
was not one of her orphans; he’d been dealing with his human
nights by himself for a good portion of his life, and more than
likely knew exactly how to handle it best. And if that didn’t
include her, then who was she to object?

All
she really wanted to do was to let him know that she was there.
Was it really so wrong to want to comfort him, to desire that deeper
kind of intimacy to go along with the physical one they already
shared?

It
might be wrong to force it on him.

But…
he’d forced himself into her life in the first place, hadn’t
he? What gave him the right to push her away now? What gave him the
right to lie about it?

Her
biggest problem was that he’d deliberately tried to keep her
away. He hadn’t wanted her here. There was no getting around
it, and the knowledge hurt, somewhere deep inside where she
kept the truest parts of herself. It felt almost like a betrayal.
She’d thought--honestly and truly thought--that he did
trust her, that he regarded her as someone special, someone important
to him. She had no real justification for it, she just felt
it. Or had.

Finding
out otherwise had caused a surprising amount of pain. More, perhaps,
than she really had the right to feel after so little time together.

Maybe.

Or
maybe this is how all women feel with their first lover.

The
thought wasn’t the most pleasant in the world, and caused a
surge of anxiety that twisted her stomach muscles painfully. Her eyes
closed, her brow furrowed in thought.

Why
should she hesitate? It
wasn’t as if she could go home now anyway. She would not leave
without seeing him first.

Humph.

Had
he hesitated when he’d shown up at her work that first
day? Had he hesitated before tagging along without an
invitation while she did her job--or before kissing
her on her doorstep? Had he hesitated in the slightest
before challenging Kouga in front of her workplace, or in scolding
her simply for doing her job while he
was doing his--his dangerous,
life-threatening job? Had he hesitated for more than half a second
before jumping into bed with her?

Her
spine straightened. If he had the right to be so damn
possessive of her, then she had the right to be
possessive of him.

Enough
standing around. The only way her thoughts and emotions were ever
going to be settled would be confronting InuYasha himself. Only after
seeing and hearing his reaction would she would have more than
questions and speculations to respond from.

Drawing
a deep, fortifying breath, she peeled the key out of her palm,
grimacing slightly at the red-lined depression left behind, then
slipped the key into the lock. The tumblers fell into place with a
soft ‘snick’, and the knob turned smoothly beneath her
palm. Breath bated, she stepped inside and pulled the door shut
behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He
was sitting in the darkness like he always did on these nights--this
time in nothing but a towel, as he’d just come from the bath.

He
didn’t normally take baths on his human nights, but after only
an hour with his dulled human senses and no Kagome, he’d needed
something to distract himself with, and a bath had been the first
thing to come to mind. He didn’t feel like eating; he never did
on these nights anyway--everything tasted different when he couldn’t
smell it properly. He could have settled in to watch some
mind-numbing television show, but the noise would only prevent him
from hearing anything unnatural or out of place in the area around
his home.

Besides,
he didn’t want to numb his senses even more. Ever since he’d
met Kagome, there’d been a subtle shift in the cadence of life
around him; things were getting odder--in the broad sense of the
politics of the city, and the more intimate sense of the people
closest to him. The simmering undercurrent felt like a threat, even
if he couldn’t pinpoint exactly
what it was, and as a result, he was feeling much less secure than he
normally did on his human nights. So, he sat alone on his bed in the
darkness of his bedroom, contemplating his own stupidity.

Of
all the idiotic things for him to do. Of all the nights for him to
leave her alone, in the care of someone else. Granted, they were the
strongest, most trustworthy someones that he knew, but still….

He
was an idiot.

He
missed her company. He was bored without her, disquieted, on
edge. Frustrated beyond belief that she wasn’t nearby. Not that
he didn’t normally feel this way on these nights, but….

The
restlessness was worse this time. It was the worst it had been in a
long time. And it was because Kagome wasn’t here. He missed
her. He’d spent almost every possible second with her since
he’d found her, and now he wanted her here with him. He wanted
her calming presence, her soothing doctor’s hands, what little
of her scent that he would be able to detect in this form. She
belonged with him. And it was his own damn fault that she
wasn’t where she belonged.

Because
he hadn’t wanted her to see him this way. Because he was afraid
of what she would think of him in his human form. Because he’d
had this faint notion that she would somehow lose faith in his
strength, would somehow see him as less than he was after seeing him
as a mere human.

It
was a stupid notion, of course--something he’d realized after
giving it some serious thought. His Kagome wasn’t like
that; he was certain of it, knew it on a level that bordered on
instinctual. But it hadn’t stopped the momentary fear that had
prompted him to keep her at a distance--at least for tonight. And now
he was regretting it.

He
missed Kagome….

Aggravation
forced a growl that wasn’t really a growl from his throat, and
his heel kicked at the floor in reaction. Shit, even his voice
was wrong tonight….

Dammit,
it wasn’t like he could protect her properly tonight anyway!

The
thought made him wince, and he put his head in his hands. So the fuck
what if he couldn’t protect her like normal?! He should have
kept her closer than ever and made damn sure she was all right. It
was his responsibility; he should have had her with
him tonight, in the safest place he knew to be. He wove his fingers
through the long, still-damp strands of black that had replaced his
normal silver-white and tightened almost viciously, absorbing the
brief pain with relish.

Fucking
moron.

He
should have just told her. He almost had. It would have been so
simple--tell her he had something important to show her, and let her
see for herself. She’d have come if he’d just asked,
and he wouldn’t have had to say a word in explanation.

He
hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d
hesitated. In that moment, in the instant when he’d realized
what she--not just her mother, but she--was
asking him, his lungs had constricted, his mind had frozen, and the
words he’d heard come out of his mouth weren’t the words
he’d intended to say--the words he knew he should
say. He should have told her right then. Or, at the very least, he
should have asked her to stay with him tonight, so he could show
her.

Except….

If
he had been in his regular form, his ears would have drooped.

His
humanity. The loss of his senses. His vulnerability. Everything that
made him weak. He hated it. The thought of showing it to her--now,
when everything was still so new, when everything was still so….so
fucking dangerous and unsettled. When he could still lose her,
and everyone else who was important to him, and the possibility
scared him so bad that he refused to think about it and got angry
instead….

He
didn’t want her to see his greatest weakness. He wanted
her to see his strength, to trust completely in his ability to
protect her. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to her even the
smallest hint of possible failure--and it didn’t matter one
fucking bit that she wouldn’t have any clue that he was
failing. He would still be failing.

He
couldn’t fail this time. He needed her to believe in him.

His
scowl deepened. But if she found out he’d kept this from her,
he might not get her trust for a long damn time.

Shit.

A
noise, so soft he almost didn’t hear it, but out of place
enough that it immediately caught his attention, sounded from out in
the living room. His heart pounded, and a shot of chilled adrenaline
straightened his spine, effectively yanking him from the misery of
self-recriminations. Instantly alert, his head came up, his eyes hard
and searching through the darkness of his room.

Someone
was in his apartment.

His
lip curled aggressively, but he hesitated for a moment. It was almost
inconceivable that anyone unwelcome had made it past the gates
without raising some kind of an alarm. This place had so many
safeguards in place it was disgusting. Hell, one of the only reasons
he was able to live here was because the old witch depended on him as
extra protection against that kind of intrusion.

But
everyone he knew who had access to this place was nowhere near here
tonight--so who the hell was in his apartment? Tonight, of all
nights?

Another
faint sound had him gritting his teeth and holding in an instinctual
growl. Disregarding the fact that he was still slightly damp and in
nothing but a towel, he rose silently from the bed, his entire body
tensed and ready for combat, but cautious. He grabbed Tetsusaiga from
its place beside his bed, even though he knew it wouldn’t be
much help if he did have to fight. Something was always better than
nothing.

Then,
quickly, thankful for the silence of the carpet, he crept his way
down the hallway towards the living room.

He’d
forgotten he’d left the light on over the stove. The soft
yellow glow bounced off the various surfaces of his living room,
defining everything in shadows and dull, almost non-existent colors.
He drew to a stop just beyond where the light’s pathetic reach
had started to encroach into the hallway, his eyes making a cautious
sweep over the various shapes populating the room before him.

They
landed on the slim figure standing almost frozen in front of his
front door. His breath caught in his throat, and his grip loosened on
the sheath in his hand. The battle tension drained from his body,
only to be instantly replaced by another, more apprehensive kind of
tension. For a brief moment, he considered the possibility that he
might be hallucinating…. But only for a moment.

Kagome.

Details
were hazy from this far away, but he was intimately acquainted with
dips and curves of the body that stood across the room. He was very
familiar with the inquisitive way she tilted her head back and forth
as she scanned the interior around her, and the way she clung tight
to the bag slung over her shoulder. He was even mildly irritated at
the way her hair was twisted up into some sort of clip, even if quite
a few strands had already escaped to fall around her face.

He
much preferred it free, floating down around her shoulders.

Kagome
is here….

A
confused frown twisted his brows, prompted by the conflict of emotion
that slammed through him. Kagome was here; he could relax now, he
didn’t have to go through any more of this torment shit. Kagome
was here; now she would see his human form, now she would see his
weakness.

Damn!
How did she….

His
chest tightened, and before he knew what he was doing, he was moving,
striding out into the living room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The
first thing that struck her was the darkness; the only source of
illumination was a muted appliance light coming from somewhere in the
kitchen. The second was the still, settled quality of the air; it
felt empty and unoccupied in here. The rest of the room came at her
in impressions as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and wandered
the dim shadows of the apartment before her.

Living
room to the left. Kitchen to the right. The two rooms were open to
each other, and while the kitchen seemed typical (she immediately
liked the island) the living room seemed minimally furnished: a
couch, two armchairs and a big TV (She almost rolled her eyes at
that; how very male of him.), and little else that she could make out
through the shadows. The room was spacious--bigger than any living
room she’d ever seen--and the light didn’t quite reach
into every corner, creating more confusing shadows than anything
else.

She
paused. The floor was wall-to-wall carpet but, out of habit, she
kicked off her shoes to the side of the door anyway. She couldn’t
see InuYasha anywhere.

Her
eyes darted around again until she spotted the hallway--a dark,
squared-off rectangle of inky shadows that led further into the
apartment. She let the breath whoosh from her lungs in a soft
explosion of air, and her eyes shut tight as she took a second to
brace herself. Then she almost jumped out of her skin as a harsh
voice barked at her from the darkness.

“Kagome!
How the fuck
did
you get in here?!”

Her
heart stopped in her chest, then resumed at a terrified,
throat-choking rhythm. Her eyes flew open wide and she focused
immediately on the dark-haired figure advancing on her from the
hallway.

“InuYasha?!”
His name popped out of her mouth before she realized what she was
saying. “Is that you?”

His
scowl darkened for an instant. “Of course it’s me! I live
here!”

She
tilted her head. Her first instinctive impulse was surprise at his
changed appearance, even if she had been expecting it; but his scowl
was the same as always, and that it was firmly in place as he drew
closer was oddly reassuring.

He
halted abruptly halfway across the room, his body at an angle that
allowed the light to fall clearly across his features. She noticed
his scowl falter, just little, before he continued. “You were…”
He sounded hesitant, confused even. “You said you were going to
the shrine. What the hell are you doing here?!”

“InuYasha…”
The bag slid from her shoulders and fell neglected onto the floor.
Her feet started moving, padding softly across the carpet, carrying
her towards him. He didn’t move, didn’t seem to know
quite how to react. His eyes latched onto her, but his gaze was
guarded, wary, framed by tense dark brows that only tightened as she
drew closer.

At
least he hadn’t ordered her out. Yet.

“You--”
Kagome’s step faltered for a moment as her eyes belatedly
registered the rest of his appearance. She sucked in a quick breath.
“Oh.”

A
towel, and that sword of his in his hand.

Not
wearing much, is he?

She
released the air from her lungs, then resumed her approach, much
slower this time. Her gaze traveled the length of him as she went,
down to his bare feet and back up past his towel-clad hips, lingering
on his exposed abdomen and chest before settling back on his face. He
didn’t move as she drew to a stop in front of him, close enough
to touch if she wanted, but far enough away to still be slightly
impersonal.

Then
she just stared, entranced by the differences. “You really are
human,” she breathed softly. Her eyes fell to the dark strands
sliding over his shoulders. She reached out to pluck at them. “Your
hair is black….” she murmured thoughtfully. It was soft
and cool to the touch, and held the faintest hint of dampness. Her
gaze rose again, and she frowned. “Your eyes are….”
She leaned a little closer, unable to tell in the dim light. “Dark--”

“Gray,”
he supplied, startling her.

Even
his voice is different…. Smoother. Gentler.

“Gray?
Really?”

His
black eyebrows quirked at her blank tone. “You think I’ve
lived this long without knowing what my human face looks like? Trust
me, they’re gray.”

“Hmmm.”
She reached up both hands and placed them on his cheeks, angling his
head to get a better look. He surprised her by allowing it without
comment--though he retained his guarded expression.

Inside
she struggled against herself, fighting a battle between relief and
diffidence. He hadn’t rejected her. He hadn’t yelled at
her and demanded that she leave him alone…but she couldn’t
tell what he was thinking. He was just standing there, staring at her
with a look she couldn’t decipher. He was so tense--not
just his expression, but his entire body. She could almost feel it in
the air between them, and it was putting her on edge, too.

Why
was he just standing there? Why didn’t he say
something?

Allowing
a frown of her own to form between her brows, she dropped both hands
to rest lightly on his chest. He inhaled against her touch, bringing
warm skin into firmer contact with cool fingers as she stared
blankly, frantically searching for an emotion to grasp onto.

“Kagome--”

Anger.
“You jerk!” Suddenly incensed, she smacked her palms
against his torso, hard enough to send him stumbling back a step.

“Hey!”
His expression went from caution to angry surprise in a heartbeat,
but she didn’t care.

“You
really thought I wouldn’t figure it out, didn’t you?!”
Her hands fisted on her hips as he recovered his footing. “I’m
a doctor,
InuYasha! I probably know more about hanyou cycles than you do!”

“I
know that!”

“So…what?
You just hoped I wouldn’t notice
when you started disappearing around the same time every month?! I’m
not stupid!”

“I
know,
dammit!” He sounded almost as frustrated as she felt. “I--”

She
pointed an accusing finger. “You lied to me!”

“What?!”
Indignation joined the anger. “Bullshit! Not giving details
doesn’t count as lying! This is different!”

Normally
she would have called him on that, but in this case, he had a valid
point. She knew that. Some things required a lack of details.
Especially a secret like this. Especially if one was a hunter by
trade.

Frustration
supplanted anger. She let her hands drop to her sides, and fought to
keep the tears gathering behind her eyes from showing in her voice.
“You could have trusted me, dammit!”

He
visibly winced when she cursed, then yelled back in kind. “I
fucking well know that, too!”

Wait….
What? Her anger seemed to dissipate as quickly as it had arisen,
leaving only frustration and confusion. “You…do?”

He
gave her his “are you stupid?” look. “Of course!”

“Then….”
She blinked at him. “Why didn’t you?”

The
softness of her question froze him in his tracks, and he stared at
her, that odd, indecipherable look from before returning to his eyes.
Then he gave a quiet snort, and brushed past her. She turned on her
heel to face him, but didn’t move to follow.

“That
damn bastard monk,” he grumbled, rather randomly, as he plopped
down into the nearest seat: a well-cushioned armchair, perpendicular
to the couch. The sword fell with a soft thud to the carpet beside
him. “I’ll kill him.”

She
felt the lines around her mouth tighten at his evasion. “InuYasha,
why didn’t you tell me?”

He
blinked for a moment, then sighed, slumping back against the chair,
his back hunching slightly in a defensive gesture. He sounded tired.
“What are you doing here, Kagome?”

The
question stung, and she blinked too, because the comment brought out
the rush of tears to blur her vision. “I….” She
hesitated, swallowing in an attempt to steady her voice. Drawing a
deep breath, she let it out in a heavy, audible sigh. “I’ve
seen what it can be like. Sometimes, at the orphanage, I stay with
the children during their human time. Some of them have a hard time
coping with it.” She hesitated, watching his still form through
the shadows. “The little ones especially. They’re afraid,
because they can’t hear, or see, or feel things the way they
normally do. They don’t feel safe unless they have someone they
trust to hold onto.”

“You
think I need someone to hold
me?” Disbelief and anger laced his voice.

She
winced, and hoped he hadn’t seen it in the dark. “No!
That’s not….” She hesitated again, searching for
the right word, a sick feeling settling low in the pit of her
stomach. “I just wanted you to know…that you’re
not alone. Just in case you ever feel like….”

He
said nothing, just regarded her silently as her voice trailed off
into the tense air. The quiet dragged, and neither of them moved.

Kagome
twisted her fingers together in front of her. The sick feeling rose
like bile in the back of her throat. His lack of response was killing
her. He was just sitting there, staring at her with wide, stunned
eyes. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She’d felt
better when he’d been yelling at her, rather than sitting there
behind this imposing wall of silence. Anything would have been better
than this silence.

It
was obvious. He didn’t want her here.

Something
inside snapped, and suddenly all she wanted to do was get away. “I….”
The tears were back, angry and embarrassed, stinging painfully at the
back of her eyes, but she fought them off by biting down hard on her
tongue. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
She started for the door, her feet quick against the carpet, hurrying
past the chair where he sat unmoving. “I’ll leave now.”

He
sat up abruptly as she brushed by him. His hand darted out, and long
fingers wrapped around her wrist, jerking her to a stop. “Where
the hell do you think you’re going?”

Shocked,
she turned back to confront eyes that glared up at her through the
dim light. “I thought you didn’t want--”

“Bah!
If you think I’m letting you walk home this late at night
you’re out of your mind. And I
sure as hell ain’t goin’ anywhere tonight, so you’re
stuck here.”

She
stared at him as if he were the most bizarre creature she’d
ever seen, her tears momentarily forgotten. “Stuck here?! I
don’t need you to--”

The
impatient snort that escaped his throat cut her off, and his fingers
tightened warningly on her wrist. “You’re not leaving,
and that’s final. Now shut up and listen.”

Something
in his voice gave her pause, and she fell silent, staring at him with
wide eyes.

When
he finally spoke, his tone was harsh. He didn’t look at her,
but kept his eyes staring straight ahead into the darkest corners of
the room. “To me, the new moon is…. It’s like my
brain shorts a fucking circuit. Nothing works right. My ears are
stuffed with cotton. My nose is fucking dead. My body feels….”

He
paused, and she stared at him, holding her breath. Her heart was
pounding violently in her chest once more, this time with
exhilaration, because she realized the importance of what he was
telling her.

“Weak.”
He spat the word out like it was a vile epithet, then fell silent for
a few more moments. “I feel like a fucking--” He broke
off, clamped his jaw tight, and gave a slight shake of his head. “I
hate it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Did you
think I wanted you to see me that way?”

He
stopped talking, his frustration palpable. Kagome just stared at him
with eyes soft with empathy and the faintest, joy-filled smile just
starting to lift the corners of her mouth.

He
hadn’t shut her out after all.

Before
she could even begin to vocalize a reply, he heaved a loud,
aggravated sigh, and his fingers tightened around her wrist in a
sharp tug. With a gasp, Kagome stumbled forward. She collided with
the soft arm of the chair, and was helped over it by a pair of strong
hands on her waist. It happened almost faster than she could follow,
and by the time she was able to get her bearings again, she was
sitting sideways across his lap. Her legs were draped over his, her
arms were caught snugly between his chest and hers, and his arms
enclosed her in a loose embrace. She blinked up to find him staring
down at her, the dark gray of his eyes serious.

“There’s
not many people out there that I’ve deliberately let see me
like this,” he said solemnly. “Two of them are dead. Two
are in self-imposed exile.” He paused. “One of them is
one of the only people I trust my back to in a fight,” his lip
curled up in a faint, irritated snort, “so I guess I’ll
miss the bastard after I kill him.”

Guilt
tightened in her chest and her eyes dropped away from his. Miroku had
been right. Everything was still so knew between them; she should
have just given him time to adjust before--

“And
you.”

It
took a moment for her to absorb his words through the remorse
building in her system, but then her head snapped back up. “Me?
But I barged in on you.”

She
felt his shrug through her entire body. “Keh. I still chose to
let you see me.” A hint of a frown tensed his dark brows. “I
was going to show you eventually anyway.”

Her
eyes rounded. “You were?”

He
slanted her one of his familiar, irritated looks, and the cold knots
in her stomach started to warm, to loosen and unravel. “It’s
like you said. It’d be stupid to avoid you every month.”
He considered for a moment, then added, sounding slightly put out,
“Well, because of me, anyway.”

A
furious blush warmed her entire face, and she glared at him, ready to
rip him a new one for the inference. “InuYasha!”

A
tiny smirk quirked the corners of his mouth, but he otherwise ignored
her outrage. He stared at her for a moment, then his whole expression
changed. The dark gray of his eyes softened; his gaze held to hers
with a depth of vulnerability she hadn’t thought him capable of
showing. “I’m glad you’re here, Kagome.”

Her
breath caught. The quiet, sincere admission blew all the energy out
of her pending tirade; the warmth brewing in her stomach blossomed
and spread. An impulsive smile curved her lips. “Really?”

He
nodded. “Now I don’t have to worry about dealing with all
this shit next month.”

The
comment was absent, almost flippant in nature, probably an effort at
deflection, but Kagome just shook her head. Smile playing on her
lips, she leaned forward, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek and
tug him down. InuYasha came willingly, his mouth meeting hers
halfway.

He
surprised her. The kiss was uncharacteristically tame, almost
tentative in nature, a greeting both soft and gentle. Swirling
beneath the surface she caught snatches of the things he wasn’t
saying out loud: his worry about telling her, the remorse he’d
felt for keeping this from her, his overwhelming relief that she was
here anyway--even a hint of frustration that she couldn’t
interpret but was pleased to know was there.

Seeking
to reassure him, she let her body melt around him, sliding her arms
around his neck to bury her fingers in his hair. Her lips parted in
blatant invitation, and he readily accepted. His arms tightened
around her waist, pulling her a little closer. Happiness welled up
from deep inside her, and she pressed harder to him when his tongue
curled around hers.

His
hand reached up to lay against her cheek, a light grasp meant to hold
her in place while his mouth explored hers. His fingers stroked a
soft caress along the corner of her jaw. No faint claw scratches this
time. She noticed their absence, and sighed softly into his mouth,
running the sharpest points of her nails along his scalp. She felt
him start, ever so slightly, at the impulsive act, and she paused,
pulling back to blink at him. He quirked a black eyebrow in question,
and with a tiny grin, she did it again, this time running her nails
down to the middle of his chest.

Then
she bent low and nipped at the faint scratch lines with her lips.

His
breath caught roughly in his throat this time; her grin widened
against his chest. His dark eyes narrowed, and he tugged her head
back up for another kiss, then abruptly moved to nip sharply at her
ear. She gasped, and the feel of his lips and teeth moved lower, to
her lobe, nibbling at the soft skin. His tongue snaked out against
the sensitive patch of skin right behind her ear. Her head tilted in
reaction; she pressed her lips together to hold in a moan.

Her
eyes slipped lower, to trace over the expanse of skin beneath her
hands: shoulders, chest, arms, stomach, and the towel sitting loose
on his hips, trapped in place by the weight of her body. He was
sitting beneath her, practically naked, and his mouth was doing
wonderful things to her ear. Anticipation joined the warmth heating
up her belly.

Suddenly
eager to reciprocate, she began laying kisses along his jaw and
throat, dragging her lips curiously along his taut skin as she slowly
but deliberately made her way downward. Her hands followed suit,
caressing, and she had to wriggle around on his lap to allow for the
movement. His breath was starting to get labored, a fact she noted
with particular delight as she reacquainted herself with the contours
of his body in the faint light of the living room.

His
hands trailed along her back, smoothing over the soft material of her
sweater. He gave a dissatisfied grunt, then tugged at the soft
neckline of the covering. “Hey.”

She
paused, her mouth against his chest, and peered up at him. “Hm?”

“Take
this off.”

It
was neither a request nor an order, which was unusual for him, but
she just sat back and shrugged out of the sleeves of the sweater,
letting the garment drop where it would, baring her arms in the short
sleeves of her blouse. InuYasha seemed momentarily satisfied by this,
because his hands immediately went to the skin of her arms, his
fingers reaching to explore beneath the edges.

Kagome
went back to his body, her own breath starting to come in shorter
gasps. She could feel her skin growing sensitive, prickling all over
as his hands and fingers skimmed over the bits of her already exposed
and teased the bits of her still covered by the frustrating layers of
her clothes. She bent a little lower and used her tongue along the
center of his chest, a long swipe over skin that tasted warm and
clean. His soft grunt made her smile in delight once again. His hand
curled around her nape and he pulled her back up; his mouth crushed
hers, and this time he didn’t wait for an invitation before
pushing his tongue past her lips.

But
she wasn’t quite willing to relinquish her examination of his
body. Her fingers reached lower, smoothing over the tight planes of
his lower stomach, just skimming over the rough material covering his
hips and thighs. Then she let them wander a little farther, a brazen
stroke along the hardness rising under the towel.

He
sucked in a sharp breath, and his hips shifted, a faint push against
the light touch, and she blinked. A whim flashed through her mind and
showed itself in the impish curve of her lips.

Then,
before he could react and before she could think about it, she
slipped away from his grip and onto her knees in front of him. He
stilled, staring down at her with dark, intense eyes. She pushed
between his knees, settling her stomach comfortably against the edge
of the chairs seat cushion, and she saw a flare of something almost
primitive in them.

“Kagome….”

His
voice was deeper than it had been a few minutes ago. She shushed him,
and smoothed her hands along his thighs, her fingers edging
underneath the towel.

He
shushed.

With
a faint smile, she pressed her fingertips into his skin, dragged them
down his thighs, then pushed her palms back up. Slowly, she repeated
the caress. This time the towel came loose around his hips.

He
suddenly seemed to be having a hard time breathing.

She
wrapped her hands in the towel and tugged, unwrapping the terry cloth
like she would a present. He moved again, giving her the leeway she
needed to get the cloth out from under him. Then he stilled, his
entire body settling back against the chair, his breathing shallow
and quiet.

Satisfied
with the reaction, she turned her attention to the erection standing
upright and proud right in front of her. Her heart jumped to her
throat, pounding hard with an odd combination of anxiety and
exhilaration.

For
a moment, she hesitated.

She
had no real idea of what she was doing. Mechanics were one
thing--implementation another. Besides textbooks and basic general
knowledge, the only things she had to rely on were the
few--admittedly explicit--alcohol-influenced conversations she’d
had with Sango in the years since she’d accepted Miroku as her
fiancé. And--all references to lollipops and bananas
aside--she was still relatively new to this whole sex thing.

“Just….”
The voice that emerged from her throat was soft, shy. “Tell me
if I do something wrong.”

He
grunted out a sound that she took to be an affirmative.

Unable
to bring herself to look up at him, she studied him with a clinical
eye as her hands continued the slow, dragging strokes along his
thighs. His attention, she knew, was focused exclusively and
intensely on her--her every action, her every breath, her every
sound--which was an entirely different sort of stimulation. Finally,
tentatively, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the
thickening organ.

His
breath hissed audibly between his teeth, and she paused, eyes
widening as she felt him pulse beneath her fingers. That queasy,
anxious knot in the pit of her stomach resolved itself abruptly,
unfurling with an electric snap that sent a shock of pleasure through
her entire nervous system. Awestruck, she tightened her grip and
stroked his length slowly, dragging her fingers up, then down, then
loosening her grip to trail her fingers over the head.

This
time, his breath whooshed out of him on a groan, and she felt his
body tense, the muscles of his legs on either side of her going
rigid. At the edges of her vision, his chest heaved slightly as he
struggled to pull air into his lungs, and his hands gripped at the
arms of the chair so hard that his fingers turned white. She gripped
him again, this time wrapping both hands around his length and
dragging her fingers harder against the hot, smooth skin. She was
fascinated by the way it moved under her fingers, at the
inflexibility of the tissue beneath.

“K-Kagome….”
His voice was quiet, strangled, hoarse. Thick with lust, heavy with
pleasure.

Her
breath was suddenly coming in short, excited spurts. Every inch of
her flesh felt alive and tingly; all her sensitive places were alert
and throbbing. Her blood was pulsing thickly through her veins, oddly
in sync with the beat under her fingers, and a melting, empty, liquid
ache had made itself known from the center of her chest to the
blood-heavy juncture between her legs. She almost moaned herself.

Wow.

She
was reacting in direct proportion to his response to her touch.
Amazing. Sango was right. Giving him pleasure was spurring her
own.

She
wanted more.

“You
know,” she heard herself talking without really intending to
say anything, her voice strangely contemplative, quietly awed. “Sex
is an amazing process. The body goes through the most incredible
things…. Things that I would prescribe medication for under
different circumstances. But right now….”

She
trailed off, leaning forward, brushing a kiss across the tip of his
member, marveling at the scalding heat that met her sensitive lips,
and dragged a finger along his length, searching for the rhythm of
his blood. InuYasha’s breath hitched. “Your pulse is
supposed to be that fast.” She almost smiled. “Your
blood pressure should be through the roof.” A hard shudder ran
through his body, and she sensed more than felt him shift slightly
beneath her, giving her easier access.

Audibly,
he swallowed and tried his voice again. “Kagome….”

She
ignored the desperate rasp completely. “Blood vessels constrict
and flow abnormally. Core body temperature rises drastically.”
She licked her lips and placed another kiss--this one deliberately
wet--where her thumb had just passed.

She
pulled back just a bit and pressed her lips together, her breathing
shallow as she considered the texture and feel of him. “And all
that before orgasm. You wouldn’t believe what happens
during.” Her words caused him to suck in a sharp breath,
but before he had time to react, she parted her lips and fitted her
mouth around the head of his erection, surrounding him with the
warmth and wetness of her mouth and tongue.

“Ah!”
His exclamation was more breath than sound, and one of his hands
moved to rest against her head, tugging at the clip in her hair until
it came loose. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and his fingers
wove through the cool strands. At his gentle urging, she pushed down
around him, careful of her teeth, and suckled experimentally.

He
let out a soft, drawn-out groan.

She
pulled back again and tilted her head to stare at the size of him.
Her fingers continued their soft, lingering caresses while she rolled
her tongue in her mouth, considering the musky taste of his skin.
Such delicate, interesting skin, silky smooth and taut, while at the
same time multi-textured with veins and ridges. Not beautiful, not
ugly…just incredibly fascinating.

InuYasha
growled a protest at the loss of her mouth, and even in his human
form, the sound was…formidable. And arousing; heat and tension
built inside her, and heated chills skittered across her skin at
every uninhibited reaction he gave her. She glanced up at him,
wanting to see if he looked as affected as he sounded.

He
was staring down at her, expression absorbed and feverish, eyes
heavy-lidded, half-shut with a drugged, helpless sort of pleasure.
Their dark, charcoal gray met hers and widened, and she knew that her
own gaze revealed the naked longing she felt with every fiber of her
being.

Suddenly,
Kagome felt like giggling, half-awed, half-exhilarated. Last week,
her biggest concern with men was figuring out a way to dodge Kouga
the next time he showed up at the clinic bearing flowers and
overblown proposals of marriage. Tonight she was sitting on her knees
in front of a naked hanyou, doing things she’d only
contemplated in her most private of musings.

Was
it really only a week since Sango had dragged her out of bed to tend
to this battered hanyou with the adorable ears? Only a few days since
that awful rogue attack, and the night she’d eagerly welcomed
him into her bed, and her body? Had she really spent every night
since curled up with a body heat not her own for the first time in
her life?

It
was as if she suddenly existed in a reality different from the one
she’d lived most of her life knowing.

His
black brows narrowed, and she watched him rally out of his haze with
effort. His hand moved from its death-grip on the arm, and then he
was brushing the hair off her forehead. Carefully. Hand trembling.
“You…. You don’t have to, you know.”

The
rough whisper of his voice was almost better than a physical caress,
and for a moment, she closed her eyes and fought off a moan as a
shiver slid down her spine. Her lids opened, and she met his gaze
squarely. “I know,” She was surprised to hear her own
voice suddenly capable of little more than a whisper. “I want
to.”

Different….
But not bad.

Her
eyes dropped away and she leaned forward again, returning her
attention to his lap and the erection straining against her fingers.
No…not bad at all, she decided with a sigh.

As
the wind from her sigh brushed against his skin, he shuddered and
gave a near-silent moan. Kagome smiled at the reaction he couldn’t
hide--a slow, cat-like smile that curved sensually across her
lips--and at the way the deepest, most sensitive parts of her
body clenched in reaction to the pleasure obviously dominating his.

And
took him into her mouth once again. Deeply this time--as deep as she
dared--and sucking hard. Then she did it again, pulling in her cheeks
and dragging her lips and tongue.

His
grip on her hair tightened, the clutch just short of painful, and
ragged gasp left his throat. She swirled her tongue wetly around his
tip and got her first taste of the liquid that signified his
impending relief. She found the taste, oddly enough, to be exactly
what she expected: alkaline, bitter, extremely musky--and very much
like him, as if someone had taken a part of his personality and
converted it into liquid form.

He
lost what little control he had, and his hips pushed up into her
mouth as her name whispered past his lips once again. Her heart
jolted, and an electrified thrill wrapped itself around her spine;
but the half-thrust pushed him a little too deep, and she nearly
gagged. She paused and pulled her head back to consider him, unsure
if she was ready to take it all the way yet.

Her
hesitation served to snap InuYasha once again out of the sexual fog
her mouth had put him in, and his voice burst out with unexpected
strength. “Enough!”

His
hands released her hair. His fingers closed forcefully around her
upper arms and he dragged her up onto his lap. She let out a yelp of
protest, then promptly forgot why as his hands slid down, along her
back and over her butt, grabbing the back of her thighs through her
skirt and pulling her into a straddle over his lap. The aching crux
between her legs, swollen and wanting for lack of attention, was
suddenly brushing against the straining hardness between his, the
only barrier between their flesh her thin skirt and the damp--very
damp--fabric of her panties.

She
arched her back, her fingers digging into the muscles of his
shoulders as she rubbed against him in an instinctive attempt to gain
some relief.

His
mouth found hers with bruising force, a fierce, plundering kiss of
rich taste, and desperate longing. He feasted on her, a starving man
suddenly provided with an abundance of sustenance. He suckled, rubbed
against, and indulged in her mouth--and eventually, the kiss seemed
to calm him just a bit, providing an outlet for his raging need to
reciprocate, to assert, to participate in some way.

And
then he was suddenly the one in control.

His
hands, still behind her, were busy, bunching the material of her
skirt in his fingers, yanking it up over the curves of hips and
thighs to gather around her waist. Somehow, he secured it there, and
then his hands were gliding over her skin once again, slipping
downward, over rounded buttocks and in between spread legs to probe
softly against the slick, molded cotton of her panties. Blunt
fingertips pressed teasingly light strokes along her heat, the touch
all the more maddening for the barrier dulling the sensations.

A
quiet cry left her and she threw her head back, breaking away from
his mouth to pant for much-needed air; he took it in stride, catching
and tugging not-so-gently at her bottom lip with blunt human teeth,
and nibbling his way downwards, scraping them along her jaw, then
caressing along her neck with his lips and mouth and tongue. Her
hands abandoned his shoulders to tunnel into the cool black locks of
his hair as it fell free across his shoulders and against her
overheated skin, pressing him closer. Her eyes drifted closed, and
she moaned, low and soft in her throat.

Quite
abruptly, his fingers abandoned their foray between her legs, and she
almost wailed at the loss; but then they slipped beneath the flimsy
elastic band holding the impediment of cloth between her legs. He
paused for a moment to wiggle experimentally against the soft,
rounded flesh of her hips, then tugged at them--only to find himself
frustrated by their position on the chair, unable to remove them
completely from her body with her thighs straddled so close across
his.

Aggravated
by the delay, he pushed his hands between the cotton and her skin,
and his palms cupped over her hips, blunt fingertips pressing tight.
“These,” his guttural voice rumbled against her throat,
causing a brief shiver. “Get rid of them. Now.” His
wrists flexed against the elastic band of the garment’s simple
bikini cut. “Or I will.”

A
small part of her noted the effort at restraint with a bit of
surprise. So far, he hadn’t shown any consideration of her
clothing. That he did tonight, right now of all times, was a bit of a
shock. She appreciated it, she really did…. But….

Uh-uh.
Her hips rolled against him, instinctively seeking harder contact
with the stiffness between her thighs, and moaned as the pressure
sent little ripples of pleasure through her system. No way am I
leaving this spot. “Just rip them.” She could barely
speak herself, her words breathless whispers of sound.

He
didn’t wait for her to tell him again. He simply sat back--the
action a small one, but enough to draw another whimper--and pulled
her up onto her knees, bringing their faces close in the dimness
surrounding them. She could feel his ragged breath against her lips
and cheek, smelled the arousing musk of heat and sweat on his skin.

Again,
she would have protested the loss of contact, but his eyes rose to
meet hers. The dark charcoal color, narrowed with hunger and
mind-numbing intent, caught at her dark blue. Her own breath snagged
in her lungs at the intense, sensual turbulence in his gaze, and she
found herself frozen, trapped, unable to move.

Then
he took hold of one side of the garment with both hands; he twisted
and yanked viciously, and her panties--brand new, if she
recalled--began to tear, the thin elastic coming apart slowly but
surely.

So,
his strength was impressive, even in his human form. She had no
objections to that.

The
band snapped dully into the quiet, and he immediately dragged the
now-useless cloth away from her hips, baring her intimately to the
cooler air of the room. What remained of her panties were shoved down
the thigh they still encircled and forgotten.

His
hands gripped her hips.

Her
eyes widened, still locked inescapably with his.

InuYasha….

His
fingers tightened, tugging her hips downward, provoking the exquisite
feel of stretching muscle as her body opened for him, accepted him
completely in one smooth, gentle stroke. Her wetness, her warmth
wrapped tightly around him as he settled deep inside her, letting
gravity do most of the work. Her fingernails dug painfully into his
scalp at the sudden, immense pressure within. Her lungs exploded, and
she exhaled almost at the same time she inhaled, causing her to choke
softly.

His
eyes closed; a faint shudder wracked through the tautly strung lines
of his body.

They
opened, his dark gaze meeting hers shamelessly, and he leaned forward
and placed his parted lips against her own until they were literally
breathing into one another. And then she was moving against him. She
couldn’t help it; her body just started rocking on its own,
craving the intimate friction, the unique satisfaction of having him
move within her.

InuYasha….

She
was timid at first. Unsure of herself in such an unfamiliar position,
she lifted and lowered awkwardly along his length--spurred on only by
the shocks of pleasure that resulted from the slick slide of skin
against skin. He helped her, his hands retaining their claim to her
hips, and eventually guided her into a steady rhythm.

Once
he was sure she was all right on her own, his hands slipped away from
her hips, a guttural groan vibrating through his chest.

And
then his mouth was covering hers completely, and his tongue was
filling her mouth in the same manner as his body. She latched onto
him gratefully, and her arms locked around his neck to press him as
close and as hard as she could. Her body was already starting to move
faster as she gained confidence; faint gasps and random moans echoed
softly from her throat as her rational mind was slowly overwhelmed by
the delicious, roiling tension building in her gut.

He
parted from her for an instant, mumbling something rough and
incoherent before returning to her mouth.

His
hands moved again, his fingers bunching in her shirt. This time he
didn’t bother wasting time or effort asking her, he just found
her collar and ripped, sending buttons flying off into the darkness
and leaving the edges of the blouse to hang open. The cups of her bra
he simply pushed down and out of the way, using them as a prop for
the soft bounce of her breasts as she moved around him. His palms
covered her breasts, their warmth an added bonus. He stroked and
played, drawing patterns into the soft, sensitive tissue, fingers
rolling almost absently against the tight buds at their peaks.

She
gave a tiny, shuddering cry of delight, and her eyes slipped shut as
she pressed against his hands.

He
broke their kiss abruptly and a soft, humanized growl rumbled from
his throat. With a sharp bite to her chin, he reminded her that he
didn’t like her attention to wander from him for very long when
he was inside her. Her eyes snapped open, hazed with pleasure and
need, and returned his unrelenting gaze with a glare for distracting
her. In retaliation, she clamped her fingers in his hair, yanked his
mouth insistently back to hers, and engaged him in a mini-duel of
sharp nips and short, rough kisses--all the while rocking against him
in increasing urgency.

He
didn’t seem to mind. His hips were moving too now, meeting hers
with sharp thrusts of his own, the look of mindless concentration on
his face telling her how successful her earlier efforts to pleasure
him had been. The deep, urgent noises that were emerging from his
throat encouraged her to keep going.

Kagome
loved it. She loved that she could do that to him, loved that she
could make him look like that. Loved that she could make him sound
like that.

His
hands left her breasts to wander, sliding over skin that had grown
sleek with the fine sheen of exertion. They skimmed softly over all
her sensitive places--the indent of her belly button, that tiny spot
behind her ear, the sides of her ribcage--exercising his
still-newly-acquired familiarity with her body. Each touch, every
lingering caress drew an unwitting whimper or moan from her throat.
His fingers spread across her back under the cover of her shirt, one
heel pressing high against the indent of her spine and the other
slipping lower to push against the small of her back.

Urging
her to move harder. Demanding she go faster.

The
tension in her belly grew, twisting and coiling, driving her further
along the mindless path of pleasure. Her muscles, her thighs and
calves, burned with strain and exertion from the awkward position,
but she ignored them. Her lungs heaved as she panted for air.
Breathing was a minor concern, a distant second to attaining release
from the building pressure, insignificant next to the delightful, wet
resistance of soft tissue to hardened member.

And
she was close--close enough that she was losing her grasp on reality.
Emotion built in her chest, from somewhere deep within, a knot of
incredible, mixed-up feelings clamoring to get out. It was thick and
strong and vibrant; it spread through her in a literal rush of
sparkling energy, built behind her eyes, gathered in her mouth. It
spilled over, bled out from within, through her fingertips, through
her toes. She felt encased in a crackling, energized warmth, skin
overly sensitized, consciousness balancing precariously on the
razor’s edge of delirium.

And
all of it, she knew instinctively, was tied directly to him.

His
name left her lips on a gasping shriek, and he responded in kind, her
name a garbled, animalistic rasp. Then she felt him suddenly hesitate
beneath her--felt him freeze and suck in a sharp breath. The rhythm
of his hips beneath her faltered; hers broke entirely, and she felt
herself pulled back to reality.

The
blinding whirl of energy coursing through her cut off, and her eyes
flew open, unseeing in the darkness. Kagome was faintly surprised to
find herself wide-eyed and focused on the ceiling. She hadn’t
even realized that she’d reared back and thrown her face back,
hadn’t realized that she’d had her eyes closed until
she’d opened them. They flew back to his.

He
was staring at her, his eyes wide, awestruck, stunned.

Stunned….
Why stunned?

In
the ragged silence, they stared at each other through the shadows.

Though
he’d stopped, her hips still rolled, still ground hard around
the hot, throbbing part of him buried so prominently within the clasp
of her body. Confused, frustrated, desperate, she pushed her
sweat-slick forehead against his and nearly sobbed aloud.

“You
stopped.”
She wanted this so badly she could barely breathe.
“Why’d you stop?”

She
felt the wayward brush of his fingers across the hot skin of her
cheek.

“You….”
He panted it out, sounding choked, bewildered--disturbed even. “That
light….”

She
waited an entire three seconds for him to explain, then decided she
didn’t give a damn. “Don’t stop….”
Her hips bucked against his, urgently; her inner muscles contracted,
a deliberate caress. “Please!”

His
eyes closed in a grimace, and she saw his teeth grit. He ground out
on a faint, pained-sounding groan. “Fuck…”

Then
his hand tunneled into the hair that fell loose and wild about her
face, his features hard, concentrated, determined. He tugged, and his
fierce grip forced her back to him, forced her lips back to his. The
pressure of his mouth crushed against hers, and she yelped--not in
protest, only approval--as the movement pressed him deeper, harder,
into her body.

She
felt his free hand drop down along the front of her body, grazing
across the sensitive skin of the lowest parts of her belly.

Then
even lower, into the slick heat of her sex.

His
fingers found the tiny, rigid bundle of nerves, and flicked gently
across it.

She
jerked at the sharp jolt of intense, pleasurable sensation. His
clawless fingers rolled and pressed, circled teasingly around the
responsive nub; this time she did sob, directly into his mouth. Her
hands grabbed at the sides of his face, her nails dug into the skin
of his cheeks and jaw, and she was suddenly pressing her mouth
against him so hard that the hand that gripped her hair was
superfluous. And then she was wailing loudly into the room as her
head fell back, her body locked in paroxysms of euphoria as her inner
muscles twitched and convulsed around him in the hard, relentless
grip of orgasm.

Somewhere,
faintly, she heard him gasp her name--that unknowing, unwilling sound
of helplessness that escapes when the brain is too caught up to
notice what the mouth is doing--and his hands were back on her hips.
His fingers dug hard, unforgiving lines into the soft flesh of her
bottom as he took over for her, ramming his body into hers with
several short hard thrusts. His face pressed against her neck, and
with one last forceful upward plunge, she felt gratifying rush of his
release deep with her. His arms clamped down across her back and held
her close, so tightly she could barely breathe, as shudders and
spasms wracked violently through him.

And
then they were quiet, content just to cling to each other in the
peace of the night. Two bodies gasped and heaved, seeking both air
and sanity in the darkness as they waited for the return of a normal
heartbeat. Kagome rested her weary cheek against his shoulder, her
body a dead weight draped atop his. InuYasha’s hand had made
its way to the wildly tangled strands of her hair, and his fingers
combed absently through the mass over her back.

Eventually,
he stirred beneath her. His lips parted against her neck, and his
lazy voice drifted along her skin. “Hey, Kagome….You
awake?”

“Mmmm.”

Another
few seconds of silence ensued.

“We
should probably move.”

Kagome
drew a deep breath and sighed, but didn’t go to the trouble of
lifting her head off his shoulder. He was absolutely right, of
course. She could already feel certain parts of her anatomy--her hips
in particular--getting sore, protesting the abnormal amount of
stretching her straddled pose put them through. Unfortunately, they
refused to move and do something about it. The sentiment was good,
but the energy just wasn’t there.

She
didn’t even budge.

InuYasha,
for his part, didn’t seem all that inclined to take his own
advice; the only movement he’d actually engaged in was placing
random, soothing nibbles along the curve of her shoulder. With
another contented sigh, this one silent, her eyelids started to
droop.

He
stirred a little more, his arms shifting slightly around her back.
“Think you can stand?”

She
roused, blinking at the question. “I….” With some
effort, she wriggled her hips experimentally. He was still buried
inside of her, and the movement produced the most interesting
sensations--though her thigh muscles trembled weakly in protest. She
felt his teeth graze her neck in reaction, and her voice dropped to a
faint, breathless half-moan. “Think so.”

He
grunted, but didn’t say anything.

More
silence.

She
felt movement again as his head lifted from her shoulder. He glanced
around. She could almost see the baffled, mildly irritated furrow of
his brow in the tone of his voice. “Kagome?”

“Hmm?”
Idly, she dropped a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“What
the hell did you do with my towel?”

“Towel?”
She paused. What
towel?
Bemused, she thought about it for a few moments, then giggled when it
finally hit her. “I’m not sure--I don’t remember
taking it off. Check the floor.”

He
snorted, the sound an odd combination of a laugh and a grousing
“keh”, then sighed. “Come on. We have to get up.
Neither of us will be happy if we’re still in this damn chair
tomorrow morning.”

Another
sigh left her throat, this one of reluctant acceptance, and she
obliged him by shifting around on his lap. They untangled from each
other slowly, InuYasha pushing her into a standing position, then
coming right up behind her when her legs trembled threateningly. He
put a steadying hand against her waist, glancing around at the floor
surrounding the chair as she hastily pulled and pushed what remained
of her clothes into some semblance of decency. Her blouse hung loose
and open around her, but at least her bra was intact, and even though
they currently felt a bit too sensitive for confinement, she tucked
her breasts out of sight rather than engage in an awkward fight with
the catch around her back. After all, it was one thing to have them
bouncing during sex--it was quite another to have them bouncing
around in general.

She
didn’t spare more than a passing grimace to her panties as the
remainder of the garment slid down her calf and she kicked it off to
the side. A heated blush colored her cheeks. She could think about
that later.

InuYasha
had found his towel and he hastily re-wrapped the covering around his
hips before he grabbed her hand and started across the carpet. “Come
on.”

She
blinked at the shadows of his naked back. “Where are we going?”

He
didn’t stop to look back. “You wanna see the place or
not?”

She
blinked again, then felt a faint smile turn her lips up. She didn’t
speak, but curled her fingers tightly around his to let him know she
was definitely willing to see whatever he wanted to show her. His own
fingers gave a brief squeeze in acknowledgement, but he didn’t
turn around.

*******************************************************************

Well,
he didn’t turn around until she stumbled. She couldn’t
really see in the dark, and her leg muscles weren’t exactly the
most reliable things in the world right now. He stopped to steady
her, shook his head, and tugged her along towards the hallway leading
further into the apartment. Halfway down the hallway, she stumbled
again, and that time he turned to scowl at her.

After
her third stumble, he muttered something mildly insulting about
‘human females’ and ‘stamina’ before he
simply turned and plucked her up in his arms, bridal style. Without
another word, he carried her into the bathroom, and--to her blushing
dismay--helped her clean up. She got her first real good look at his
human form in the light, and she spent several minutes--much to his
blushing dismay--taking in his coloring and running her fingers over
his features, especially his human ears.

“I
think,” she murmured as she traced the soft outer shell of one
with her fingers, “that I like your other ears better.”
She gave him an impish grin. “They’re cuter.”

She
thought she detected a faint blush before he snorted and turned away,
not even bothering to deign that comment with a response.

After
he was satisfied that she was recovered enough to walk on her own, he
took her hand and dragged her along the carpet once again. He didn’t
stop until they reached the open door at the very end of the hallway.
He stood stock-still for a breath of time, then gave her a solemn
look and stepped back. “This one’s mine.”

Faintly
confused, she furrowed her brows at him. He ignored the look and just
stood there, staring at her expectantly. After a moment’s
hesitation, Kagome drew a soft breath, and with a minor shrug,
stepped past him into the room.

It
was a large room, carpeted like the rest of the apartment, and
sparsely furnished. Directly across from the door was a long series
of windows that reached from the floor to halfway up the walls,
currently covered in off-white drapes. But what really caught her
attention was the furnishing set up off to the side.

Her
eyebrows shot up as she gaped. “That’s your bed?”

His
frown returned, and he gave a half-hearted shrug. “It came with
the apartment.”

It
was immense by anyone’s standards: a four-poster bed with the
four wooden posts currently removed, the largest mattress--covered in
surprisingly neatly-made up bed covers--Kagome had ever seen, and
carved wooden feet that rested on a dais that rose a half-step up off
the floor. It was positively opulent. Nothing like what she’d
expected someone like him to have.

She
blinked at it for a second, then turned to give him an odd look.
“It’s very…big.”

InuYasha
shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I told you, it came with
the apartment.”

“You
mean it was already here?”

“Yeah.”
He looked mildly peeved, then gave a rough sigh. “A few years
ago, I took care of a rogue that was trying to get into this place.
Right after I beat the damn thing, the old witch brought me up here
and said I could live here as long as I kept the bed.” He
shifted again, then scowled at the bed. “It was a good deal, so
I took it.” His nose twitched in faint disgust. “I just
had the old mattress burned and got a new one. Keeping the frame was
less hassle than moving it out anyway.”

“The
landlady wanted you to keep it?” She sent a thoughtful look at
the bed, putting a finger to her chin. “I wonder why?”

A
faint snort. “I didn’t ask. Don’t want to know.”

“Hmm.”
Kagome walked over to the bed and took the small step up onto the
dais so she could rest her hand on the bedding. Thick. Cool to the
touch. It reminded her of her favorite comforter. “She didn’t
mind you burning the mattress?”

That
hint of disgust was back in his tone. “She insisted. Said she
didn’t want me smelling things that were none of my business.”
The disgust was joined was joined by a shade of horror. “I
wouldn’t even touch the damn thing after that. Jinenji had to
do it.”

Kagome
choked back a sudden giggle, and turned back to him, laughter dancing
in the blue depths of her gaze. “Well, I’m glad you kept
it. I like it.”

“You
would.” But his expression had softened just a little. His feet
moved silently across the carpet, and then his hands grasped gently
around her waist. She found herself lifted up onto the edge of the
mattress and trapped in place by the arms and body of the temporarily
human male in front of her. His lips pressed against hers in a soft,
closed-mouth kiss.

She
barely had time to slide her arms against his shoulders before he
pulled away and frowned at her. “It’s late. You should
get some sleep.”

Dark,
shapely eyebrows furrowed to send him a measuring look. “Are
you going to sleep tonight?”

He
didn’t even have to answer; his hesitation was enough. She
smiled. “Then neither will I.”

InuYasha’s
eyes--those lovely, charcoal-colored eyes--widened slightly. For a
moment, he just stared at her without a word. Then his eyes narrowed
skeptically. “You’re going to stay up all night?”

The
laughter faded from her expression, though the smile remained playing
across her lips. “I told you--I don’t want you to be
alone tonight.”

It
took a moment, but he finally responded with one of those rare,
genuine smiles that put a faint curve to his lips, sending a warm
little thrill skittering through her belly. His, skepticism remained,
though, and his eyes sparked with challenge. “Hah. You won’t
make it to sunrise.”

Her
eyebrows lifted. “That’s when you turn back, right?”

He
hesitated, then nodded.

“Then
I will.” She immediately took him up on his challenge.

Unexpectedly,
he grinned. “We’ll see.” He leaned forward and
nuzzled his nose in her hair. “So… What do you want to
do now?”

Kagome
grinned, too. “Hm. I don’t know.” She let her hands
drift downward, stroking idly along his chest. “Let’s….
Talk about Miroku’s rare book collection.”

He
drew back in surprise, black brows twisting in mild annoyance. “What?
Rare books? I don’t want to talk about….”
He trailed off as he took in her significant grin. “Oh. That
collection.” A second later, his scowl was back in displeased
force. “Hey. How the hell do you know about that?”

Her
lips twitched. “I was the one who helped Sango find his
birthday present last year. I read through a lot of ancient texts
trying to find the right one.”

His
eyes widened, and she could almost see the thoughts running through
his mind. “You…read
them?”

She
nodded, feeling smug. “Yep. In fact, I’ve helped her pick
out all of Miroku’s presents since the year they were
announced.”

For
a minute, he looked like he was choking on something. “So Sango
got him those books…. And you…..”
He blinked in bemusement. “Every year?”

She
nodded again.

A
moment of silence.

Then,
“So how much of those books do you remember?”

She
pretended to think a moment while he stared at her, the intensity in
his eyes ratcheting up by slow degrees. “It’s been a
while, but I think I can remember a lot.” She stopped, then
solemnly watched his hands move up to finger her collar restlessly.
“But that’s only what I want to do. What do you
want to do?”

“Talk
about Miroku’s rare book collection.” He responded
swiftly, obediently, and without hesitation as he stripped the blouse
from her shoulders. “Tell me everything you remember.”

With
a delighted grin, she obliged him.

Much
to her satisfaction, Kagome made it all the way to sunrise without
falling asleep once.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Waiting on a Wish