Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Hidden Hanyou	By : SheShar Category: InuYasha AU/AR > General Views: 7988 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor the characters, and make no money from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
For K
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He sat sullenly on his pallet with keen eyes trained on the small entryway, debating whether or not to go to her. The aching possessiveness that clawed at his gut was a novel adventure. Sure, he’d been jealous over girls before, had even fought and schemed over a few, seething at their petty betrayals.
But this.
This was as infuriating as it was hurtful. This was physical. Jesus, just the thought of her—his body cried out for recourse. He wanted to pace, to punch the wall, pull out his hair, pull on her hair while she was bent over, sucking the back of her neck as he was—
Fuck this. Inuyasha reached for his knapsack and rummaged inside. Nothing, really. There were a couple of undershirts, some old shirts that had been tattered beyond repair from a year of hard living in the wilderness, and a pair of loose-fitting woolen trousers. He grabbed the pants and an undershirt, as well as a thin, ruby colored sweater and scrambled through the little door.
He’d be damned before he’d wear the clothes she made him. She could save all her skills for her boyfriend.
Shuffling into the hall, he could the tinny wireless coming from the direction of the kitchen. “I’m gonna take a shower!” he called, having the foresight to alert her to his movements. She didn’t say anything, but he caught the scrape of a chair. “Don’t bother coming over,” he warned, “I don’t need your help.” Silence.
Ha. He entered the bathroom and shut the door, locking the latch behind him.
It was his turn to wash and he wouldn’t linger like a sad little puppy by the door any more. He had more self-respect than that for Christ’s sake. She had bathed; not too long ago he heard water running from the tap and had followed her soft footfalls as she snuck into the room for a change of clothes.
The hanyou showered while sitting on the edge of the tub, one hand propping him up against the wall while hot rivulets of water traveled down his muscled shoulders and down the curve of his ass. He knew the floor would be soaked, but didn’t care. Let her clean it up.
Lathering his midsection, the hanyou’s mind turned once again to just how incredibly delusional he’d become, thinking she was actually falling for him. I must be goddamned stupid, he spat internally, to see what obviously wasn’t there.
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Despite his earlier resolve to leave a mess for her to clean up, after he was dried and dressed, the hanyou used his towel to sop up the puddle along the edge of the tub before throwing it into the hamper near the door.
Limping into the dimly lit hall, he noticed several things simultaneously: Kagome’s bed lay conspicuously untouched and the only sound in the house was the hiss of the radio still playing in the kitchen.
It was too damn quiet. Kagome always made noise. Even when she was trying to be stealthy, she was always dropping something or slapping her bare feet against the warped wooden floor of the house.
Inuyasha’s mouth went dry, his body stiff with alarm. Had that creep Bankotsu come back, taking advantage of the fact that she was alone? Had another stray bullet struck her as she worked? Vivid images of Kagome injured or worse inundated his thoughts as the hanyou made the impromptu decision to make a run for the kitchen, fear for her overtaking jealousy, bitterness, and physical handicap.
Careering through the hallway, leg on fire, he swung himself into the kitchen, and taking hold of the door frame for balance, skidding to a halt before her.
Far from being in mortal peril, Kagome sat calmly at the table in the short blue button up dress she had been wearing the day he arrived. Her bare legs were propped up and crossed on the tabletop and her just-washed hair was restrained in a sloppy braid swung over her shoulder. A half-eaten bread slice was suspended in one hand, a magazine in the other as she looked up, startled, at the still dripping hanyou.
Inuyasha regarded the startled girl, before a familiar, yet unanticipated aroma accosted his nose.
He chastised himself for admiring her appearance before spotting the bottle of liquor—he sniffed again. Excuse me, bottle of vodka—on the table before her. The jug wasn’t nearly empty, but neither was it full and the way Kagome simply stared at him, opened mouth and stupefied, sealed the deal. Wench was drinking. And if she wasn’t already drunk, another glass or two would do the trick. The sickly-sweet scent of pineapple crinkled his nose, and if he wasn’t fighting back a heady laugh of relief, he would have teased her mercilessly.
“Thought you were asleep,” he greeted conversationally as he shuffled towards the ice box. Might as well eat, seeing as he hadn’t bothered touching the tray she had left out earlier in the evening.
His back was to her when she replied.
“I’m not tired.”
A bowl of cold soup in one hand and a jar of pickles in another, he nudged the metal fridge door closed with his uninjured hip. He set the food down and pulled out a chair across from her. “Me either. Needed a shower too.”
Though she said nothing, the delicate brown eyes openly followed his every movement as he lifted and tipped the cold soup to his famished lips.
“So, you weren’t gonna invite me to have a drink with you?” Inuyasha chided, reaching for the jar of pickles as she tossed down the magazine. “Just plain bad manners, me being a guest and all.” He unlatched the catch to the bail lid jar and fished out a pickle, waiting patiently for her response.
Kagome shrugged, lightly tracing the rim of the mason jar glass with her thumb. “Didn’t think you’d want to join me.”
“You do this every night?” he asked, somewhat accusatory.
“You know I don’t.”
“I ‘suppose there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” Pickle finished, Inuyasha drained the last of his soup. “What brought it on?” he nodded to the area of the table where the carton of pineapple juice and vodka were stationed.
“I dunno,” she waved a hand in the air, “Go on and have some if you’d like.” She pushed the bottle of liquor towards him with the tips of her fingers.
Inuyasha stood and bent over the small wooden table, sliding the bottle over to his end. Without reading the label, the hanyou raised it to his lips and took about three large swigs before setting it down with a thud, a mild grimace on his lips.
“Kagome…”
“Tokyo’s going on lockdown effective tomorrow.”
He didn’t ask how she knew.
“What does this mean for you?” he asked, popping another pickle into his mouth and washing it down with another ample drink of liquor.
“For us you mean?” she laughed, sardonically. “Well, no more laundry business for one,” she took a sip from her own cocktail. “No more work or worrying about customers at least, or waking up early.” He openly observed the beautiful girl as she spoke, her cheeks rosy, the bulge of her chest unmistakable beneath the taught fabric of the blue dress as she laughed.
“That’s good though, right?”
“I never really liked him, you know.”
It was a few minutes before she spoke again, the crackling tune of the radio filling the room as he watched her drum her fingers against the dull wooden table top. He wondered if she expected a response, but he didn’t want to interrupt her confession—wouldn’t have known what to say.
“If you ask me why I even let things get as far as they have, I wouldn’t really know what to say.” She considered the hanyou across the table, her brown eyes slightly unfocused, pleading, as though begging him to understand.
“But he kept bringing me gifts, things that I needed. And like a fool I accepted them, thinking he was only being generous. Naraku didn’t ask for anything in return.” She hesitated. “At first.”
“I should have said no, but, damn it, Inuyasha, all I could think about was my mom and my grandpa living in a different country. They needed me. They still need me.” Having finished, she swung her legs from the table top onto the floor, standing erect, arms crossed defiantly across her chest. Inuyasha was startled by the swift glimpse of white panties as her legs slightly parted on the way down. Tearing his eyes away from her lower half, he found her complexion mottled with anger, her stance defensive as though daring him to contradict her.
“Kagome, I don’t know why the fuck you feel the need to martyr yourself.” Fury simmered, and he had to consciously keep his voice level. “I’ve told you before, if it’s about the money, say the words and your mother and grandfather will never have to worry about anything. Ever. So—”
“It’s not that simple. Not anymore!” she cried, standing up, turning her back to him. He became incensed at once.
“Jesus Christ, then tell me Kagome, because—”
Her words came out in a rush, slightly slurred. “The government wants to use the shrine and the woods behind it for a Purification Camp. I’ve known they’ve wanted it for some time. Naraku was the one to inform me. He told me not to worry though, because as long as I was with him, nothing would happen and I could keep my house.” Inuyasha watched her lean over the table and grab the bottle, taking a short swig straight from the lip, her face contorted with a look of disgust. “That’s why he called tonight. He called to tell me he was coming on Thursday and to remind me of the enormous debt I owe him.”
Not knowing what to say, or how to comfort her, he stretched a long muscular arm and held out the last pickle in offering. “Here.” She grabbed it, mouthing a silent thank you. “So,” he exhaled, “What’s gonna happen?”
“Well, as long as Naraku signs off on my behalf, they won’t go after the shrine. Yet.” She looked up at the ceiling as she said this, “If it were just about the money to my family…Inuyasha, everything would be so easy. I can’t leave now. There’s nowhere to go. The city is full of people from the countryside. The neighbors talk about yokai scouting the forests for deserters and hanyou. Food is getting harder and harder to come by. After the lockdown, I don’t know what will happen. I’m lucky enough as it is to eat every day. Now there’s the lockdown, the gates in and out of the city will be guarded. I can’t leave. We can’t leave.”
A mixture of humiliation and revulsion coursed through his veins. This was about him. She was gonna let that bastard fuck her and push her around because she had to hide him. “Kagome,” he started, his voice low, his resolve to leave set.
“Don’t even think about leaving Inuyasha.” He jumped slightly; it was as though she had read his mind. She looked so sad, so helpless and young standing there in the kitchen, shrouded by the dim light coming from the lone fixture on the far wall. “Sometimes you have to do things, things you don’t want to. I learned that a long time ago.” She walked over to the counter, her bare feet slapping the clean floor as she stepped and, turning to him, leaned against the tiled surface. “Even if you weren’t here, I’d have to stay. So, that’s that.”
“Why the lock down, why now?”
“I don’t know, maybe he’ll tell me when he comes.”
The music from the near forgotten radio stopped abruptly, replaced by a series of high pitched beeps. Inuyasha winced at the attack on his sensitive ears while Kagome turned from the hanyou to the radio next to her. She knew, as well as he did, that the beeps signaled an emergency broadcast.
“What station is this?” he inquired while staggering towards the counter where the radio sat. Shit, maybe he shouldn’t have drunk so much so fast while he was recovering. Both human and hanyou huddled around the wireless, eager for the forthcoming message. There hadn’t been an emergency alert since the war began.
Kagome shook her head. “I’m not sure, maybe from Korea?” she offered, unsure. “Most stations here have stopped playing any kind of contemporary music or anything American.” He opened his mouth to begin questioning her further when a foreign voice reverberated from the speakers in an excitedly hurried voice.
“To our Japanese brothers and sisters: we have just confirmed that the United States and China have issued declarations stating their intention to ally themselves with the exiled Japanese emperor!” Inuyasha shot a brief glance at Kagome, who scrutinized the radio with apt attention. “Sources say that within the next few months, the two countries will assist in an invasion of the island and will declare freedom to both the human and hanyou Japanese population.”
And as quickly as the voice materialized, the music resumed, a jaunty tune which seemed to startle the human girl beside him.
“This could be the end, couldn’t it?” she asked him, a fierce, desperate hope in her eye.
“Yeah, I think it could be. Jesus, Kagome,” he combed both hands though his hair, letting his palms rest on the top of his head, sandwiched between his furry ears. “Miroku told me that foreign involvement was likely, but…this means we just have to wait it out! Holy shit!” He smiled wide, unable to hide his glee. “What?”
“Were you planning on leaving?” she made a sweeping gestured at his form, ostensibly amused.
He looked sheepishly down at his attire. The red sweater was patched and a little short over his torso, highlighting the tight, frayed undershirt beneath. The woolen pants were loose, but a little short, and his bare feet were pale white against the chestnut floor of the kitchen. He wasn’t dressed for the freezing Tokyo winter, but neither was he dressed for bed.
“Nah, just being stubborn,” he smirked, his earlier jealousy and resentment assuaged by the fortuitous radio announcement and by Kagome’s admission that she didn’t want that son of a bitch. “Those aren’t pajamas either, pup,” he reached out and grasped a pinch of the cotton fabric of the skirt, rubbing it between his fingers before letting it go. It was a pale blue, and though it had buttons from nearly collar to hem, she had taken the time to button all but the top two, revealing an agreeable portion of her pale cleavage. The house dress was short sleeved, and hugged her at the hips, and while not the most revealing of garments, did only fall to mid-calf. Of all the items of clothing he had seen Kagome in, this was by far his favorite.
He was further emboldened by the noticeable catch in her breath as he examined the fabric. During a brief pause in which neither spoke, one song ended, and another began—this time with loud horns followed by a crooning voice.
Inuyasha took a step towards Kagome, his arm held aloft in invitation.
“Dance with me.” It was less of a request, than it was a demand.
Kagome chuckled, taking a step back, her heavy braid spilling over her shoulder. “Baka, I can’t dance!”
He shrugged, taking another calculated step closer. “I can.” He beckoned with his outstretched hand. “Come here, pup.”
It felt like forever as he stood there, hand out, a thousand thoughts racing at once as he silently implored her to accept. She looked so damn pretty, her full lips slightly parted, her thickly lashed eyes focused on him, only on him. Her smell was bewitching, and he wasn’t sure if it was her natural fragrance or the alcohol that dulled his thoughts while sending sharp bursts of heat to his groin as he shifted his weight, awaiting her response. She was miserable, possibly a little drunk, but magnificent, and he would be honored to hold her for just a little while. Maybe she didn’t return his feelings, but tonight he would have her—at least for this one brief moment.
But still Kagome made no effort to move, though her inquiring eyes were trained on his own. As the seconds passed, he grew discouraged, and his ears flattened against his head—the only visible sign of disappointment. He was coming to terms with her refusal when she took a step (albeit, a wobbly one) towards him and seized his outstretched hand.
Elated, he clasped his hand around hers and tentatively allowed the other to rest upon the flair of her hip. Moving forward, she stepped on his barefoot, and while it didn’t hurt him in the least, he could tell by the way she buried her face in his hair that she was embarrassed. She was right, he mused, smiling into her hair. She couldn’t dance. He would take the lead.
Kagome was nestled against him, her cheek flat upon his chest, her breasts against his torso, one leg somehow pinioned between both of his own as they began to sway back and forth to the music. Her thigh grazed the center of his pants, and Inuyasha was certain that if he had had but a little more to drink, he would not have been able to suppress the erection that was, as of now, twitching imperceptibly. He recognized the song that was playing, had heard it on the radio the year before he had arrived in Japan. The first verse ended, and as the tempo sped up, Inuyasha pushed her away slightly into a twirl; Kagome laughed heartily and smiled up at him, and then he was laughing, they were both laughing together before she resumed her position against him.
He couldn’t think straight, nothing mattered, all thoughts of the war, the danger he was in, the danger he was putting her in, were gone at the sound of her laughter. The way it felt to hold her, so close, to feel her body. He was her friend, wanted to be her friend, but he needed so much more. He didn’t want to go back to what they were before, he couldn’t. He saw that so clearly in this moment and he wondered how he could have ever thought he could live without her before. Oh, fuck he was hard now, and couldn’t stop it, so he tilted slightly to prevent her from seeing just how much of a pervert he was.
But did he even care? He wanted her to see that she was wanted. Not as part of some bastard’s bizarre schemes, but for who she was and what she meant to him.
“Mmm.” He mumbled in an absentminded fashion as he listened, savoring the moment, apprehensive of what would happen—or wouldn’t—when the music ended.
“What is it?” Kagome looked up at him, concern pooling in her eyes.
“Nuthin. Just the song.”
“What about it?” she questioned further.
He thought for a moment. “Well, it’s about a man who is waiting for the war to end so he can go back to his girl.”
“What's wrong with that?” she asked, her cheek back to the comfortable situation against his chest.
“I don’t think I could wait.”
Kagome responded, but the murmur was caught in the fabric of his sweater.
“Hmm?” He lowered his head down a notch, bringing his mouth dangerously close to her own. She didn’t answer, but he didn’t move his lips which were set against her cheekbone.
“When I was younger, I used to have this dream that that I was swimming in a pond.” Kagome revealed, her voice husky and low. “It was in the middle of a meadow and there’s this duck. And every time I swim further out he always says such awful things to me and then steals my shoes.”
Inuyasha chucked lightly, his breath tickling her skin, causing her to tilt her head slightly upwards. His mouth crept lower, now resting against the softer part of her cheek.
“What do you dream of now?” He whispered as he worked his way down. He intentionally did not kiss her, but moved his lips against her skin, using his bottom lip to tread her cheek further down, bit by bit.
“I don’t know.” His blood was pounding, the arms around him shaky, and he could feel her pulse accelerate.
“You don’t know?” lower; his mouth was at the corner of her lips
“Sometimes I dream in black and white.”
“Kagome?” he breathed, heart pounding, stomach tightening, his head swimming from the liquor, from the music, from her hand in his, and his hand wrapped about her waist.
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
His mouth met hers, warm and inviting, soft lips pressed almost demurely against his own. His left hand stayed at her waist, but he raised his right to first rest against her cheek and then to grip the back of her head, pulling her deeper into the kiss. His mouth moved on hers slowly, lips prying, and she opened her mouth to him.
The absence of hesitation fueled his desire, and Inuyasha pulled the girl closer to him, her hands dropping to the front of his sweater, gripping tufts of the worn fabric. The kisses became frantic, hurried, as he stroked her tongue with his own, up and down, encircling the muscle and eliciting a moan from his partner.
He had vague reservations that things were moving fast, almost too fast. This was practically their first kiss, she had been drinking, and now he could feel her breasts against him, her hips rocking ever so gently to the rhythm of the music. It was driving him wild and he was afraid of his own desire and instinct to not hold back.
Breaking the kiss to breathe and to take measure of Kagome’s acquiescence, Inuyasha eased his hand from behind her head, trailing clawed fingers along the slope of her neck, down the sinew of her toned arm, reveling in the fine hairs that raised to attention at his touch. Her eyes remained closed, the flush that had been contained to the bridge of her nose now crept to her cheeks, and as he threaded his fingers through hers, her swollen lips parted with a ghost of a smile. Satisfied, he kissed her again, and this time her tongue was the first to dart into his mouth, her free hand now taking liberties with his body, kneading her palm against the curve of his lower back pressing them even closer together.
The hanyou was faintly aware that in her eagerness she was pushing him, knocking him off center, requiring him to take small steps backwards until they were moving, thighs slipping against one another. She was sucking cruelly on his bottom lip, his mind fuzzy, until his ass hit the edge of the counter and their mouths broke apart, a trail of mingled saliva forming a delicate bridge between them.
Taking advantage of the momentary surprise, Inuyasha ran his tongue along the line of her jaw until he was sucking on the tender skin of her throat, not caring if he left a mark, his hands trailing along slowly from her shoulder blades to the round of her bottom. If she had any objections to his squeezing her ass, she kept them to herself; indeed, she pressed him harder to the counter, a solitary breathy “Oh!” her only response.
Disoriented by the taste of her, he was taken aback when she dropped her hands from his shoulders and stepped back, leaving him panting, leaning one-armed against the counter.
He was confused in his arousal—it was difficult to think straight. If she wanted to stop, he would respect that, but god damn, he didn’t want her to stop. He waited to see what she would do, what she would say.
Kagome did not speak, but worked her lower lip with her two front teeth, as though indecisive, her eyes fixed onto the floor. Rather than turn away and disparage them both the stupidity of their behavior (as he fully expected her to do), she brought her hands up and hastily began to unbutton her dress. One, two, three, until the dress was open to her waist.
From the heavy weight of her breasts he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra; instead she was covered by a simple cotton slip, a strip of pink lace embroidered down the middle. Having finished the last button, she let her hands drop to her sides.
“Kagome?” it was almost a question.
But her response was not. “Please.”
In one fluid movement, he swung her round, so that now Kagome was against the counter top. Playfully nipping her chin, he took her ass in both hands and hoisted her up over the edge and moved forward, positioning himself in between her legs from her perch on the pristine tiles.
He began to kiss her again, slowly, bringing one hand up to the top of her left shoulder, his palm on the bare skin between her neck and the loose sleeve of her unbuttoned dress. Hooking his thumb under the fabric he nudged it down, careful to take the thin strap of her slip with it, until one breast was fully exposed. Guiding his hand to her he tested the weight, delighted in its roundness, thumbing the nipple as he kissed her, and taking immense pleasure by the quiet gasp of acknowledgment.
He allowed his free hand to roam, up from her hip to the curve of her still covered breast, before coming back down again to rest against her thigh, the skirt nearly bunched up to her waist. Pulling her dress up a bit, his hand hovering, now kneading her thigh, disappearing under the skirt, grazing the center of her panties with the knuckle of an index finger.
His erection pressed painfully against his pants, aching to be set free, but still he rubbed harder, her legs spreading further apart, hips rocking towards him, inviting.
In very little time he began to feel wetness seep through and pushing aside the thin strip of material, ran his finger along the wet folds of her pussy.
If he had any lingering doubts about Kagome’s willingness to be with him, they were vanquished the moment she reclined, arching her back, one hand gripping the edge of the tiled surface, the other pressed against the side of the cabinet for support.
Teasing her, stroking her, tangling his finger in the curls, again and again he touched her, increasing her wetness, sliding along, but never venturing inside, afraid of accidently hurting her with the sharp tip of his claw. Kagome leaned into him, wrapping shaky arms around his neck, kissing him sloppily, before dropping her hands to his waist, tugging at the button of his trousers until it was free from its catch.
Understanding what she wanted, Inuyasha took his hands from her body, unzipped his pants and, bringing his arms up to his side in a gesture of surrender, allowed her to nudge both pants and under shorts down over his hips, and down to his knees, revealing his hardness. Clumsily, he stepped out of garments, kicking them aside lest he get tangled and fall over, at all times conscious of the curious eyes roaming his figure. He wondered if he should try to take off his sweater, but decided against it—he didn’t want her to start worrying about his injury.
He kissed her again, whispering her name, hands on her thighs, no longer unsure, but demanding, sliding his hands under her dress. He tugged the soft fabric of her panties from under her and over her thighs, down her legs, and tossed the article carelessly to the floor.
He had never felt so close to anyone—ever. The alcohol was swirling around in his head, he couldn’t feel the cold, only the heat of her body as she reached down, and took hold of him with shy, tentative hands.
That’s when he lost it. She had touched him. What had been but a fantasy mere minutes before was now quickly turning into a reality in which he could never bear to leave.
He groaned, kissing her harder, licking her lips and her neck, tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue, pulling her closer, erasing the miniscule distance between their two bodies. It seemed like forever, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before he was pressing the tip of his cock to her center. Inuyasha entered her then, slowly at first, his forehead against hers, one arm sliding under her thigh, lifting her up, tilting her towards him.
Her pussy was wet, and he moved his hips back only to thrust again right away. Though the cool air hitting his cock felt incredible, he longed to be sheathed inside her and drove in without pause, eliciting a cry of pleasure from his partner.
“Kagome,” he mewled feebly as he took her mouth, his tongue teasing languidly, relishing her taste, while pumping harder.
She broke away from his kiss, panting, and looked transfixed at the place where their bodies joined, his dick moving in and out of her in slick, fluid strokes. Her lids were drowsy with lust as she locked eyes with him, her mouth trembling with unsaid endearments.
He understood everything so damn clearly. The arguments, the lost time, the exasperating silences, the years of wondering, coming so close to breaking through her self-imposed barriers—it was all leading to this moment where his world fell away leaving nothing but her.
Kagome twined her fingers through his hair, his temple slick with drops of perspiration as he fucked her, and despite the desperate need to please her, to satisfy her in ways in which no one else ever could, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Having her in this way, legs spread, pliant cries every time he touched her—the intimacy aroused him just as much as the smell of her wetness on his body or the shock of black hair above her opening, so different than his own silvery white. He wanted desperately to show her how much he needed her, so much it nearly shamed him, but in those last moments, as though sensing his impending climax, Kagome whimpered his name, her breath heady against the crest of his ear, hands feverishly clasped behind his neck meeting his thrusts with potent momentum of her own.
“Kagome…I—” but rather than declaring his love, the hanyou pulled out of her quickly, one hand clutching her wrist the other taking hold of his throbbing dick as he came, spilling it onto her thigh. He buried his nose into the sweet-smelling flesh of her neck, mindful of tickling, wayward hairs. The ache had been satiated, but his desire for her remained.
“I’m sorry,” he panted, fire spreading across his face in embarrassment. “It’s just—”
Kagome tightened her grip, holding him to her fiercely. “Well, someone needs to be responsible around here.”
Inuyasha smiled against her, moving to rest his chin on her shoulder, relieved she understood. Although the idea of impregnating Kagome sent another shock of arousal through his stomach, their situation was complicated enough.
After their breathing had slowed and he was sure he could stand without assistance, Inuyasha stepped back to help Kagome cover herself, sly smiles passing between them as he leisurely buttoned her dress.
The bottom of his undershirt stuck out from the sweater he was wearing and, resourcefully, he used the exposed strip of cloth to wipe away the semen drying on to her thigh.
She surveyed him rather curiously as he cleaned the mess; he knew how ridiculous he looked standing there with a sweater on and no pants, but before he pulled his trousers on he reached down and picked up her underwear that had been tossed to the floor. Handing them to her, Kagome met his sheepish grin with one of her own, and hopped down off the counter, stuffing them into a pocket. She snapped the dial of the radio.
Kagome stood there as he got dressed, her previous confidence as they had been making love seemingly gone, replaced by an infectious nervousness. Putting the food plates in the sink, wiping down the table, pushing in the chairs. He was scared to break the silence. Would she regret what they had done? Be angry? Did he take advantage of her loneliness?
He knew one thing at least, and it was that he couldn’t wear this sweater any longer. The material was scratchy against his skin and Inuyasha made a feeble attempt to rid himself of it while Kagome double checked the back door. Still she remained silent, her messy braid come nearly undone, the back of her dress wrinkled as she re-secured the blackout curtains for the window above the sink.
He would not ruin this.
“Sleep with me tonight?”
She turned to him, a trace of a smile evolving into a grin as she nodded.
He limped his way to the hallway, Kagome at his heels. The kitchen and hall went dark as she flipped the light switch and Inuyasha reached his hand out along the wall to guide their paths.
Upon reaching the bedroom, Inuyasha veered off towards her bed, grabbing the heavy quilt, slinging it over his shoulders. He thought it best to fall asleep together in his little room, as small as it was, just in case any one should come visiting.
“Come on, pup. You first.”
Crawling in after her, he was pleased to find her sitting atop his blankets, crossed legged, her eyes glowing in the dim light of the battery powered lamp next to her.
“Your bandage is loose.”
He looked down, noticing for the first time the gauze peeping out from his under shirt.
“It’ll last ‘til tomorrow.” He crawled towards the pallet. “Can you lean against the wall real quick? I wanna pull the blanket out all the way.”
Kagome pushed herself against the rough wooden planks, watching his every move as he stretched his own quilt out so that it nearly met the opposite wall, extending the width of his bed. It would have been easier had she waited for him in her room, but, being completely honest with himself, he was scared she would decline. “You can lay down if you want.” He continued when she made no move to recline. “If you wanna sleep in your own—” but was cut off when she leaned over and kissed him lingeringly on his cheek. Pulling back, she lay down on her side, stretching out her limbs, head resting on his pillow.
Fuck yes.
Laying down beside her, Inuyasha covered them both to the shoulders with the thick blanket from Kagome’s bed.
“Sorry, I’m so tired,” Kagome yawned, her eyes heavy. “Too much alcohol, not enough pineapple.”
“It’s ok, pup, I’m tired too.” Chuckling, he felt around under the blanket for her hand, interlocking his own fingers between hers. There it was again, that damn smile. That’s my smile, he thought tenderly, angling closer, until he was laying on his back, Kagome on her side, her face using the uninjured side of his chest as a pillow, arm slung over her torso. Nothing was better than this—nothing.
He waited until she fell asleep first, a gentle snore and even breathing, the smell of their lovemaking strong beneath the blankets. The faint sound of steady traffic in the distance combined with the onset of falling rain lulled him to slumber. He was going to fall asleep next to her. Touching her. Inuyasha inhaled deeply, craning his neck to gaze at her sleeping form in wonder, amazed at what they had just done, the feel of her in his arms, in his bed, and how everything had changed in just those few minutes.
- 20
- 21
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Hidden Hanyou