Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Kintsukuroi	By : LordYouko Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 19864 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha and make no money from the writing of this fic.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
A/N: Thank you to reviewers Roseanna, SplendentGoddess, and Lady_Demonia. Special thanks to SplendentGoddess for the detailed and thought-provoking review. I am not able to figure out how to reply to reviews, so if someone could help me out with that, that would be great.
I realize the chapter numbers have gotten a little confusing since I started with a Prologue, so I’m replacing them with chapter names, and the website can automatically fill in whatever numbers. I’ve also added a quote to the beginning of the last chapter, so check it out.
I hope you enjoy!
4. Strange Wounds

“The night is the hardest time to be alive, and 4 am knows all my secrets.”
– Poppy Z. Brite

Work had carried the Inu no Taisho and his son to the heart of the Western Lands, and the sun had set by the time the king and the prince returned to the palace.

Raia was waiting at the gates for Sesshoumaru. It was torture, standing here and doing nothing until the demon Lord returned, but the healer had assured her that the best thing she could do for the hanyou was to bring the perpetrator of the bite as soon as possible. Ordinarily, it would be a question whether someone in Sesshoumaru’s position would choose to see their slave when they were ill, but this was Inuyasha and Raia felt confident he wouldn’t waste a second once he knew his little pet was in trouble.

The garden was cloaked in darkness, the grass and bushes and plants all silently awaiting the sun. Moonlight bathed the stone arches and stone walkway in its eerie light, reflecting off the white stones, giving the palace an unearthly look. Raia felt the two powerful demons’ steady youki long before she saw the two.

Though a servant, Raia had the breeding of someone of better class and it had helped her get to her position as the head of the palace servants. She did not let her face betray the anxiety she felt, but Sesshoumaru, who had known her for many years, noticed her subtly wringing her hands, and the line of her mouth, and knew that something was wrong.

He slowed his steps, letting his father walk in ahead of him. Inu no Taisho glanced back once at him, then at Raia and continued on without a word.

“What is it?” Sesshoumaru asked.

His eyes narrowed as Raia bowed her head and would not meet his eyes.

“It’s… Inuyasha, my lord,”

Sesshoumaru became very still. “What about him?”

Raia took a deep breath. “He collapsed earlier from a high fever. He is at the healer’s.”

There was silence for a long moment. When she looked up at him, his eyes were trained on the distance. Raia waited for him to say or do something. A gentle breeze picked up his silver hair, playing with it softly.

“My Lord, you must see him immediately,” Raia blurted out, disconcerted by his indifference. She vividly remembered the time the demon Lord had rushed to the then human Inuyasha’s aid in the blink of an eye. And here he was, contemplating kami knew while the hanyou was in severe distress.

But golden eyes were flashing when they turned on her, and Raia shivered, her own words ringing back in her ears. She may have known the young prince from his childhood but that did not excuse the severe lack of respect she had just displayed by presuming to order the prince.

She bowed her head and let one knee fall to the floor before the other. Though she had managed to school herself out of a servant’s coarse language and intonation and mannerisms, her station was obvious in the hunched bow of her back as she dropped her head to the floor.

“I beg my prince’s forgiveness.”

Sesshoumaru let her remain bowed as he walked past her into the castle with leisurely steps.

“Come,” he ordered without looking back.

Startled, Raia clumsily got to her feet and hurried after him.
This feeling…

Sesshoumaru allowed his clawed hands to ball into fists at his side as he examined the tight, anxious sensation in his chest.

How had he never noticed before? When did this weakness take seed inside of him? All he wanted to do was rush to the hospital wing of the castle and make sure his puppy was alright. When did a pet’s ailments cause his heart and his steps to quicken?

The youkai’s words had jarred the uncomfortable realization in him that he had perhaps let the slave become something he hadn’t intended.

Behind him, Raia flinched as the young prince’s youki crackled and flared a little, before settling down again.

It would not do, Sesshoumaru thought, eyes cold. He would not allow a slave to unravel his iron control. He would rein in these unregulated feelings and be himself again.

Purposely, he walked with slow, measured steps towards the hospital wing, giving no indication of his haste by his gait or bearing.

“Do the healers know the cause of his ailment?” he asked Raia over his shoulder, who walked a few steps behind him.

Raia bit her lip, trying to form a reply that wouldn’t sound accusatory. “Inuyasha’s shoulder… the wound doesn’t seem to be healing…”

Sesshoumaru said nothing, and Raia watched him carefully. Her answer didn’t seem to have affected him. But for the small pause in his tread, she could not be sure he had heard her.

They walked on in silence towards the hospital wing that was not a little distance away. Raia itched to hurry, to lead him quickly to the boy’s bedside, but she couldn’t walk ahead of him and there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t warrant severe reprimand after her slip up earlier. Watching his leisurely swaying silver hair in front of her, she prayed the hanyou wouldn’t worsen before they got to him.
The first sight that greeted Sesshoumaru when he reached the hospital wing was Inuyasha lying on the bed with a wet cloth on his forehead.

The hanyou was tossing and turning restlessly, tangling the thin blanket that was pulled over him. The chief healer stood worriedly by his bed while a younger boy sat on a small stool by the hanyou’s bed, adjusting the wet cloth on Inuyasha’s forehead. Sitting on the edge of the bed was the small fox demon Shippo, watching the hanyou anxiously.

Inuyasha was the only patient in the large room. It would not be advisable to leave a sick, bleeding hanyou in a room with either humans or youkai.

The healer, who was a young human boy with brown hair, looked up at the doorway as he felt the approaching youki.

He couldn’t hide a nervous gulp as he saw the white clad demon in his room. He bowed awkwardly and straightened more quickly than correct. He raised the spectacles on his nose purposefully and importantly, trying to avoid those powerful eyes.

Sesshoumaru watched the human boy’s incompetence, hiding a sneer. It was difficult to believe sometimes that this boy was Miroku’s descendent. Where his friend had been humble, this boy was egotistical. Where Miroku had had strength, this boy had the pretense of it. He seemed to have inherited only the monk’s features, and none of his skill or wisdom.

He turned his gaze on Inuyasha and the bored look in his eyes was gone. “He is not conscious,” Sesshoumaru murmured to himself, not allowing his face to reflect a single ounce of the panic he was feeling. “Is he ill from an infection?”

Miroku’s grandchild, Takao, straightened himself and took a deep breath. “No, my Lord,” he spoke, and inwardly winced at his own too loud voice in the quiet hospital wing. He tried to school his features into impassivity like the demon Lord’s but only succeeded in making himself look pompous and silly.
Sesshoumaru turned an annoyed gaze at him and Takao quailed. “H-he is not ill,” he clarified. “He is poisoned.”

Sesshoumaru couldn’t help his eyebrows going up.

Takao stepped forward and with steady hands belying his nervousness, he turned back the covers from Inuyasha’s shoulder.

He didn’t see the demon Lord’s eyes widening as he saw the bleeding wound.

When Takao turned back towards him, Sesshoumaru’s face was expressionless again, though his eyes glittered with an expression Takao could not name.

“I presume it is my Lord’s bite,” Takao said gently. Out of the corner of his eye, Sesshoumaru could see Shippou glaring at him.

“I did not administer poison,” Sesshoumaru said impatiently. “Why has it not healed?” Takao cringed when the warrior prince’s annoyed voice fell on his ears like a slap in the dead silence of the night.

But this was the demon Lord’s fault and facing away from him, Takao gritted his teeth, cursing himself for reacting this way to the taiyoukai. He turned back to the demon Lord, frowning.

“Is milord sure? Perhaps in…the heat of the moment-” Takao turned slightly red. “My Lord would not have realized-“

He trailed off as pissed off golden eyes grew colder. Sesshoumaru did not bother answering.

“Then I do not know,” Takao admitted, looking back down at the prone hanyou. “I assumed my Lord would have administered poison, perhaps accidentally and - ”

Sesshoumaru resisted the urge to strike the stupid boy. He hadn’t accidentally administered poison since he was a child. The training given by Inu no Taisho and the Lady of the West did not allow for weapons to be used accidentally. His youkai knew the slave too intimately to consider the boy an enemy, even at its wildest. And even if he had accidentally administered poison, there was no way he would not have realized afterwards.

He stared at the suffering hanyou. The incompetent healer clearly did not know how to cure his puppy or he would have done so by now. Only respect for the memory of his friend Miroku kept him from tearing the boy apart with his words and his claws.

He walked towards the bed. Takao’s assistants seemed suddenly jolted into action from where they stood, and hastened to bring him a chair. He ignored them and sat down on the bed, next to his puppy.

Shippou looked at him in surprise, the demon prince sitting on the hanyou slave’s bed. He hesitated in his place for a moment and then hopped off the bed, coming to stand with Takao’s assistants.

Inuyasha gasped and turned towards the demon Lord’s scent with his eyes closed. Sesshoumaru didn’t fail to notice that the hanyou’s throat was chafed from where the leather collar bit into his skin; the hanyou had tied it too tightly. Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed and he reached one hand under Inuyasha’s head, raising it up off the bed.

“Sesshoumaru-sama, I must advice against it!” Takao gasped. “You must not move him or the poison will spread more quickly-“

Sesshoumaru levelled a glare at him that had felled many a lesser youkai. How many times did the idiot need to be told that Inuyasha wasn’t poisoned?

The human closed his mouth and stared helplessly at his patient. Sesshoumaru’s other hand was at Inuyasha’s waist and he raised the boy up off the bed to, letting the blankets fall off to inspect the wound more closely.

There was no sign of infection. The hanyou’s shoulder wasn’t discoloured or swollen. The wound was raw, as though it were just made, and he could see the muscles in his shoulder and his back straining, somehow affected by whatever was keeping the wound from healing.

“Inuyasha,” he said tightening his grip on the hanyou’s neck slightly and Inuyasha opened his eyes.

“Master,” he whispered. His face was turned towards the demon Lord but his eyes were glassy.

“Where does it hurt, Inuyasha?” the demon Lord asked. Inuyasha’s eyes fluttered. His master’s voice... He tried to focus on the words but his mind wandered and he tossed his head uneasily.

“Master… Master Sesshoumaru,” he whispered.

“He is not in his senses, my Lord,” Takao said gently, heart going out to the suffering hanyou. “But I can tell you, he is in pain all over…”

Sesshoumaru didn’t seem to hear him. He freed one hand from under Inuyasha’s waist and very deliberately pressed two fingers down on the open wound.

Inuyasha screamed and would have arched off the bed if Sesshoumaru hadn’t held him down.

Shippou took a few steps forward without thinking, and then stopped hesitantly. The assistant boys in the hospital wing had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the crown prince and his slave. The boy who had been applying the cold cloth to Inuyasha’s forehead sprang back, terrified.

Takao stared at the pair in horror, wanting to shout at him to stop. But he knew the boy wasn’t a free subject, and it wasn’t his place to rebuke his prince. The hanyou belonged to the demon Lord, and Sesshoumaru could kill him here and now, and couldn’t be faulted for it.

Sesshoumaru ignored the gasps and whimpers from the people in the room to continue what he was doing. He withdrew bloody fingers and pressed down in the area surrounding the wound now. Inuyasha cried out again, and was once more held down by his Master.

Shippou did move forward then, latching on to the demon prince’s leg angrily. “L-let go,” he said, voice trembling.

He paled as Sesshoumaru looked down at him, but mustered his resolve.

“H-haven’t you done enough?” Shippou demanded, through gritted teeth. “Don’t hurt him anymore…”

The demon prince kicked out, sending Shippou flying into a nearby wall.

“He is mine to do with as I please. Do not interfere,” Sesshoumaru hissed, every syllable laden with fury.

The inhabitants of the room shivered; cold, intensely powerful youki permeating the room, and even humans felt its presence, thought they could not understand what it was. Takao and his assistants froze in place where they stood, unable to move a muscle in the face of Sesshoumaru’s anger. Shippou groaned as he tried to sit up against the wall.

The room was silent as the demon Lord kept prodding Inuyasha evenly in widening circles around the wound until Inuyasha’s screams had turned into whimpers and he no longer seemed to feel the touch.

At last he turned imperious eyes on the horrified healer.

“Get me a syringe and a bottle,” he ordered.

When Takao stared at him, slack jawed, Sesshoumaru straightened and glared. “Now,” he hissed, and the authority in his voice had Takao scrambling to find what he had been ordered to without completely understanding it. Shippou’s eyes widened. He tried to stand up, and fell back with a groan, clutching his ribs.

Trembling hands handed over a syringe and a sealed needle to the demon Lord. Sesshoumaru took the items and mounted the needle on the syringe with practiced hands.

“Inuyasha,” the demon Lord murmured. The hanyou opened his eyes. “You will not move,” Sesshoumaru ordered. Inuyasha stared at him glassy eyed. The demon Lord’s tone changed into one of implacable command. “You will not move. Do you understand?”

Inuyasha moaned.

The needle glinted in the light of flickering torches and Inuyasha screamed as the demon Lord jammed it in his open wound. Takao and the assistants flinched and averted their eyes, not able to bear the sight of the tortured little slave. A dry sob escaped Shippou as he clenched his teeth, no longer mindful of the throbbing pain in his chest.

But the hanyou stayed still.

By the time Takao could bear to look again, the needle was withdrawn and the demon Lord was emptying the red contents into the bottle.

Inuyasha was breathing harshly now. The cloth had slipped off his forehead and it was beaded with sweat, but the hanyou shivered, unconsciously pulling the thin blanket tightly around him. His knees were drawn up to his chest, as the hanyou tried to curl into a ball and tears slipped through his tightly shut eyes and wet his pillow.

Sesshoumaru took hold of the blankets and pulled them off of him. There were clawed hands on curled up knees and the demon Lord forced his legs to straighten.

Ignoring the weak protesting noise Takao made, Sesshoumaru once again cradled Inuyasha in his arms and raised him up. All the muscles in Inuyasha’s body seemed to relax suddenly in his master’s grip. His face looked calmer than before as he whispered, “Sesshoumaru-sama…”

Sesshoumaru leaned down and licked the wound.

Takao and a few assistants gasped in surprise as the demon Lord leaned over the ill slave and unhesitatingly licked the bleeding wound. Inuyasha thrashed a little from the pain and the odd sensation but Sesshoumaru kept him down, immobile. Once, twice, thrice that tongue reached out and licked the raw bleeding wound till Inuyasha’s breathing had evened out and he stopped struggling with an unconscious sigh.

Then Sesshoumaru gently laid him back on the bed and pulled the blanket over him. When he stepped back, Inuyasha’s face no longer looked tortured and his breathing didn’t come so harshly anymore.

Takao stared from him to the hanyou, frowning. “So it was your poison then…”

Sesshoumaru was standing too close to him before the monk had seen him move. Takao sucked in a surprised breath, stumbling back from the looming youkai.

The demon Lord’s head was cocked slightly to the side, and silver hair fell over his shoulder like strands of moonlight. “It would serve you well to hold your tongue in matters you do not understand,” Sesshoumaru said quietly. “Lest there be…consequences.”

Takao felt a curious sensation of bristling anger mixed with bone-deep terror. He could feel the demon’s youki buzzing with anger. It shouldn’t affect him, how a demon felt. He had trained to be a monk and had exterminated his fair share of youkai on his journeys. He had studied about youkai and taiyoukai and knew that the latter were immensely powerful. But he had seen his grandfather’s power and also knew what monks were capable of.

But right now, all he could feel was his heart pounding in fear, blood pumping up to his face, behind his eyes.

He had never known that the youkai smelled like thunderstorms and electricity.

Sesshoumaru let his gaze sweep over the rest of the people in the room. Even other humans and youkai felt the demon’s powerful youki permeating the air between them and they huddled closer together instinctively. Though Takao’s expression was bland, all the colour had leached from his face and he had an odd look in his eyes.

With a final glance at Inuyasha, Sesshoumaru very deliberately stepped away from the terrified Takao, turned on his heel, and left the room.

Takao found that he could breathe properly only once the youkai had left the room.

He tried to move towards Inuyasha’s bed, but stumbled unexpectedly as his legs would not support him. He frowned fiercely at himself, but didn’t think about it further as he moved towards his patient.

His assistants also all seemed more awake now. The last look that Sesshoumaru-sama had given them clearly said that they would neglect the hanyou at the cost of their lives.

Takao felt the hanyou’s forehead. His fever seemed to have broken. If it wasn’t poison that had made the hanyou ill, why had the demon Lord’s ministrations worked? And what, other than poison, could affect a half-demon so badly?

His fingers almost went to the collar that was still too tight around the hanyou’s throat. He had been very tempted to remove it, but it wasn’t his place to touch the symbol of ownership of the prince. He had half-hoped the demon Lord would loosen it himself, but the youkai didn’t seem to have cared. Takao knew Inuyasha was being treated better by Sesshoumaru than a hanyou could be expected to be treated anywhere, but it still soured his stomach that the hanyou had to endure these things.

But the illness was right now more worrying than his other misfortunes and there was still a chance until sunrise that the hanyou could take a turn for the worse. If he made it through the night, he would be ok.
Sesshoumaru entered the hospital wing just as the sky was turning blue from pink.

The healer’s assistants were all wide awake, keeping a close watch on Inuyasha, but Sesshoumaru’s sudden appearance was still a jolt, and they all looked at him fearfully, wondering if they had fallen short in their care in any way that could warrant punishment.

Sesshoumaru ignored the others whose scents were suddenly spiked with fear. Takao was sitting at Inuyasha’s bedside, replacing the wet cloth on his forehead himself. His hanyou was sleeping peacefully. Colour had returned to his pale face. Blankets were pulled only till his waist and the exposed wound was on its way to being completely healed.

Takao opened his mouth the greet the demon Lord, but Sesshoumaru was gone before he could say a word.
Another day and night later, Inuyasha had fully recovered and was ready to be discharged.

Puppy ears flickered happily as Inuyasha sat on the bed while he finished putting on his firerat clothing. The healers had told him what had happened. His Master had rescued him; he had even deigned to clean his wound himself. He felt warm and gooey and squishy in his belly. His Master had saved his life and claimed him all over again.

He slid off the bed and got to his feet. Now that he was fully recovered, his body and soul yearned to be near his Master. The lingering weakness from his illness left him feeling raw and vulnerable and he just wanted to be as close to Sesshoumaru-sama as possible, feel his comforting, strong aura, bask in his dominance and possession.

But he could not know where his Master was right now. His work took him all over the Western lands, and Inuyasha was not allowed to leave the castle. Inuyasha turned his steps towards his little room. The demon Lord would summon him when he pleased; in the meantime, he would try his best to make up for all the studies and training that he had missed.

But soon it was close to midnight and his Master still hadn’t summoned him. Outside his window, the waning moon rose high in the sky, and a gentle breeze brought in the mingled scent of the flowers in the garden. There was a tight, anxious feeling in his stomach, and Inuyasha put away his books and headed for his Master’s chambers. Maybe the demon Lord was busy and hadn’t remembered that he had been discharged already, Inuyasha thought to himself as his bare feet pattered dully on the stone floors of the corridors that led to his Master’s wing of the castle.

He reached his Master’s chambers and the drowsy looking guards blinked at him.

“He’s not here,” one of them told him.

Inuyasha frowned ferociously at him and walked ahead anyway, pushing the doors open. The guards made no move to stop him; their Lord had instructed them to allow the boy in at any time of day or night. Over the years, they had got used to all the odd hours of day and night the prince summoned his favourite slave, sometimes before he himself returned to his chambers.

The chambers were empty like the guards had said. By the scent of the room, he could tell that his master hadn’t been in them in at least a couple of days.

When he stepped back out, the guards exchanged looks, surprised at his scent. It was full of pain and panic and other emotions they couldn’t distinguish. They were one of the very few youkai who judged the hanyou on his strength and not his blood, but they felt that even the most stone-hearted amongst them could not help but feel for the harsh Lord Sesshoumaru’s personal plaything.

Inuyasha felt tears pricking his eyes uncharacteristically. The guards were looking at him pityingly and he lowered his head to let his bangs cover his eyes. He hadn’t cried in front of others in a long long time; his tears were only for his Master. But he couldn’t help it today.

Coming back out into the garden, he looked around helplessly. The serene beauty of the garden seemed to be mocking him now. It wasn’t the first night he had been away from Sesshoumaru-sama, but today, he had an odd feeling of being abandoned.

There was nothing for it, though, and he had to continue his daily life while he waited for his Master.

The next morning, Inuyasha tried his hardest to hear any snippet of his Master’s whereabouts, but couldn’t even catch his name from any of the servants. He discreetly asked Raia if she knew anything, but got nothing in return except a regretful shake of her head.

A day passed, and the another and then another. Inuyasha hated how everyone was looking at him, as though he was some weak-ass thing to be pitied. His senses were sharper than everyone thought and more than once, he heard them whispering about how cruel Sesshoumaru-sama was to him.

Inuyasha wanted to shout at them and tell them that it wasn’t like that, that it wasn’t a slave’s place to be privileged to know where and when his Master was away, but there was no point in saying any of it because they wouldn’t understand, and every day that went by, Inuyasha felt smaller and smaller inside his chest.
At night, he kept waking up with sudden starts. He couldn’t remember his dreams but more than once, he found himself sitting straight up in bed, gasping at the waning moon outside his window.
Raia was worried about Inuyasha. Puppy ears had drooped low and Inuyasha had a haunted look in his eyes that was worrying. The head of the servants noted with concern that the hanyou had stopped eating properly. He barely seemed to get hungry and when he did, he ate hardly a few morsels.

His training instructor couldn’t understand why his usually enthusiastic, brash student had suddenly become quiet and subdued.

The youkai who took up his lessons noted that the hanyou’s heart wasn’t in his studies, and though he seemed to be trying his best, he kept staring off into space suddenly, and didn’t seem to be aware that he was doing it.

On the fourth night, Inuyasha once again shot up in bed with a start. Noting that there was nothing there that would startle him, he sighed, muscles relaxing into a slouch. Why… why did this keep happening…

It was always difficult to go back to sleep after being woken up like this. Inuyasha punched his pillow lightly to make it more comfortable, gathered his blankets over him and lay down on his side, back to the window. He didn’t want to look at the moon; it reminded him of his Master. Inuyasha closed his eyes, focused on the peace and quiet of the night, and willed sleep to come back.

Then there was a loud crash as his window burst open and the glass smashed to bits against his wall. Inuyasha jumped up in bed again, and turned towards the window. His Master was standing before him.

The hanyou blinked his eyes rapidly, wondering if this was one of his dreams. But the cold winter wind blowing in from the window was real enough and the broken glass crunching under the demon Lord’s boots as he walked in was real enough too.

Inuyasha sat frozen on his bed, watching the demon Lord advance slowly, predatorily on him. His little room seemed tiny in comparison to his Master’s tall, majestic figure. Sesshoumaru-sama had never before entered his room; he was always summoned to his Master’s chambers. Inuyasha had never thought it possible that the prince would condescend to enter the servants’ quarters, that too his slave’s lodgings; it just did not happen. The master of the castle never lowered himself to go to a slave; the slave was summoned whenever and wherever Master desired.

But here he was, incandescent in the soft moonlight and pitch darkness. Inuyasha felt a flood of emotions on seeing him that rendered him immobile. Wide golden eyes that were still puppyish in front of his Master, filled with tears.

Sesshoumaru frowned fiercely and sat down on his bed. Inuyasha watched him still, hypnotized, until Sesshoumaru reached over and grabbed him by his neck, pulling him close, pressing their lips together.

Inuyasha’s eyes widened impossibly. Weak hands came up to his Master’s chest, twitching ineffectually. His lips were crushed against the youkai’s, his Master’s heady, electric taste on his tongue, and his body was already responding to the assault.

Fangs sliced his lower lip casually, ignoring the half-demon’s moan. Sesshoumaru tasted his slave’s blood like it was there for him to enjoy, and Inuyasha shuddered from the sudden pain in the midst of his arousal and his neck crushed in Master’s strong clawed fingers.

“Master…M-master…” Inuyasha chanted tearfully, all his fear and abandonment swelling inside him and overflowing. “I’m all yours…yes? I belong to you?”

The demon Lord’s lips were on his neck now, and his Master hmmed indifferently in response to his question. Inuyasha gasped when his Master’s tongue darted out and tasted his skin. His pulse beat erratically under his skin, just below those lethal fangs. Inuyasha’s breathing was labored, and his legs twitched, splayed helplessly around his Master.

Sesshoumaru felt the movement of the muscles in his slave’s and it drew his attention down, at the swell in his slave’s hakama. A clawed hand reached down and held that swelling erection inside the firerat hakama.

Inuyasha was pushed down on the bed on his back and the demon Lord loomed over him, holding him down by his neck, his other hand playing with the prone slave’s cock.

Inuyasha tried to turn his head to the side, but the weight on his neck was heavy and his breath came shallow. A clawed hand was playing with his manhood and his Master’s youki was pouring over him, enveloping him, making him heady with the scent of electric power and that hand, oh gods, that hand on his throat, holding him down like he had dreamed so many times in the past few days…his Master was here, owning him, playing with his breath and his life and controlling his pleasure.

Tears escaped unchecked from the corners of his eyes and onto his meagre pillow. He could see the demon Lord’s knee on his mattress, the faded white sheets a stark contrast to the demon Lord’s glowing white silk.

“Inuyasha…my Inuyasha,” Sesshoumaru murmured, seemingly lost in thought.

Inuyasha gasped and writhed, trying to focus on his Master’s face but the grip on his neck did not allow it.

The hand on his cock pumped leisurely, once, twice. Inuyasha’s body arched with the pleasure, head thrown back as much as the grip on his neck would allow.

Sesshoumaru hmmed softly as though he had come to some conclusion. Inuyasha blinked as his Master’s form above him glowed silver. The silver glow turned brighter and brighter till it blinded the hanyou’s eyes, accustomed to the darkness of the room. His breathing became harsh; youki surrounding him grew thicker, implacable and Inuyasha shook from the sensation of such power binding him. The hand around his neck squeezed and Inuyasha lost consciousness as Sesshoumaru transformed them into a ball of energy and sped out the window from whence he had come.
________________________________________________________________________

Inuyasha blinked as he became conscious, blood red sheets and steadily burning torches slowing coming into view. He realized they were in Master’s chambers before his brain had fully registered what he was seeing.

The muscles in his neck hurt when he moved it. He tried to reach up to touch it and found that he could not move his arms. There was the rattle of chains and Inuyasha looked up to find his hands shackled by the wrist to the bedposts of his Master’s bed.

Inuyasha gasped, sitting up. His fire rat haori was undone, hanging on his arms. The white garment he wore underneath it was missing, baring his chest and his hard, sensitive nipples. His lower half was completely naked and his still hard, leaking cock was lewedly exposed to the night air.

Sesshoumaru was standing in front of the fireplace, his back to the hanyou. The flames of the fire made his silvery hair glow golden and when he turned, his face was hard and cold and ruthless.

Inuyasha gasped, his body reacting to his Master's pitiless eye . Though there was not a drop of blood or dirt on the demon Lord's pristine silk clothing, and his obi was bare of any weapons, he looked every inch the warrior prince he was, come back victorious from a bloody battle. Inuyasha squirmed in his binds and tried to keep the blush from his cheeks.
A/N: I couldn't avoid the OC healer, because Miroku and the other humans would all be dead by the time Inuyasha reached this age (the anime says around 200 years passed between Inuyasha being that small child, and the 15-year-old Inuyasha). But he'll only have a supporting role, and plus, since he's Miroku's descendent, he's not entirely an Original Character, is he?

Next chapter: Sesshoumaru's Prisoner

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Kintsukuroi