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Note: 46 Reviews! OO I am blown away… and also very, very
sorry for the delay, folks. It’s a long, wacky story… with school closing up,
and all that and whatnot -.-;
Thank… you …so…much1
I can’t relay how grateful I am for all the positive feedback! My poor hotmail
was all: “Hi, Cy! You have about forty-eight new emails!”
Even though MSN dun talk… and I don’t have it… but anyway. Blah. Ignore me
rant. I’m wrapping this fic up, hopefully, soon. Then I’ll move on.
I dun know what
series. Trigun, most likely… or One Piece. Shaman King! Ee! RenHoro!
Oh, and to answer a
question… that orange stuff was lube. Ya no, to ease the way in… ^^; er, I hope
I don’t have to end up going into detail. Well, as if I’d be bashful…
There’s, of course,
more Naraku/Miroku action, and actually… a canon hinting! Inu/Kagome, because I
love that pairing. I also love Inu/Miroku, but that’s another story ^.^ Anyway,
I like Kagome. Blah. So eat me liver.
Anywaayyy… let’s go!
-----
Chapter 6- Defile
"It is a revenge the devil sometimes takes upon the
virtuous, that he entraps them by the force of the very passion they have
suppressed and think themselves superior to." – George Santayana
---
Dawn broke cold that day. It was as if the very sun
was loath to reveal the sight of Miroku, exhausted and lying back on the soft
moss, his hair, for the most part, unbound. Naraku had thrown his robe over
him, offering some meager covering against the chilly morning air. Fog crept in
thick tendrils across the forest floor, and the monk shivered into awareness.
Her
closed his eyes again, willing sleep to return to him. It did not come. With a
sigh, he sat up, trying to draw his robe about him, but it was ripped… and
soiled. He would have flung it away, but it was the only source of warmth he had
right now. With grim resignation, he pulled it tightly around himself as a
makeshift blanket.
He
closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the fabric. It smelled of soil and
incense, of dust and long mornings seated before his master Mushin, reciting
prayers to a monk that couldn’t even remember them himself. Miroku dared to
smile. Those days… with little a worry or care. Back then, even the enormity of
his Kazaana hadn’t dawned fully on him yet…
Naraku
was watching, from high above, seated on the sturdy branches of the very tree
that Miroku was leaning on. His soft baboon pelt was flung carelessly over his
slim, firm form- other than that, he wore no clothing. His crimson eyes were
half-closed- he was more than a little tired after last night’s escapade. It
had been a long, long time since he had done anything like that.
He
smirked as Miroku smiled, feeling an instant urge to quell that small happiness
he could sense within the monk. How could he cause more pain? He’d made Miroku
surrender to him, which was far more traumatizing than taking him by force. It
planted the seed of doubt- eventually, Miroku might fully surrender himself to
Naraku…
Then
what? Naraku tilted his head. He doubted Miroku would turn on his companions-
he’d rather die. And killing Miroku would prove to be too easy. He couldn’t
think of any immediate use for the monk- he’d have to cross that bridge when he
came to it.
A
movement out in the forest caught his eye, breaking his thoughts. He crouched,
peering through the shuffling leaves. What could it be…?
It
didn’t take him long to discern the figure.
Inu-Yasha.
-.-
Kagome
had long since dismounted from the hanyou’s back, and now sagged visibly with
fatigue. They’d both been out the rest of the night, spurred on by a fierce
determination to safely find their friend.
Inu-Yasha
glanced at Kagome. She was tough; he’d give her that. He couldn’t resist a
smirk as he watched. She hadn’t complained or even made the slightest hint that
she might be tired- despite that, he could sense that her strength was
flagging. For once, though, Inu-Yasha was glad that Kagome was so stubborn.
“I
think we’ve been here before,” she said decisively. “I remember that tree.”
“…Kagome,
there are probably a hundred trees that look like that one…”
“No,
really, I know that one.” She looked to him. “We should move…” she pointed to
her left. “That way.”
“Towards
the rising sun. Okay.” Inu-Yasha sighed. She was still her old self- always
right, always in charge.
Kagome
started, looking to the sky. The sun had already risen… what would poor Sango
think?
“We
should split up,” she said abruptly, looking to Inu-Yasha.
“...I
don’t know,” Inu-Yasha said.
“Look,
if you’re worried about me-“
“I’m
not worried about you!” Inu-Yasha snorted. “It’s just that… separated, we’d be
vulnerable. Wolves in a pack can take down full grown horses. But a wolf alone
gets trampled.”
Kagome
almost facefaulted. Another tidbit of Feudal Age dog-boy wisdom… “Inu-Yasha. Do
you want to find Miroku or not?”
She
was surprised at the quiet tone of his voice as he spoke again. “…yeah.”
“Alright.
We split up!” and without further ado, the miko from the future sped off
eastwards. Inu-Yasha flicked an ear, unsure whether to be annoyed or grateful,
and turned, trotting down towards the west.
-.-
“Good
morning,” a voice purred in Miroku’s ear, alarmingly close.
Miroku
jumped, looking around, daydreams still clinging to his mind… the alarming
proximity of Naraku’s deviously fine-featured face brought him into full
awareness, and he drew away, disgusted.
The
hanyou was leaning in a way so that his baboon pelt hung loosely over his back
and one leg, leaving the other exposed up quite near the hip. It was hard for
Miroku not to notice that creamy curve of the flawless skin, the graceful shape
of the limb…
He
cringed, feeling more soiled than ever, and looked away.
Naraku
had seen the whole thing. “Cannot fight your primal desires, can you, human?”
he leaned back, allowing the pelt to fall over his leg. “Much like last night.”
Miroku
opened his eyes, and then closed them again, trembling a little. He felt
vaguely nauseous- had he… really…?
“I
remember you,” Naraku said in a low, seductive tone. “Writhing in the most
carnal form of pleasure, and the way you screamed my name, when I commanded,”
he sighed. “Such a sweet, blissful surrender, don’t you agree?” he grinned
cruelly.
Miroku
drew his robe tighter around himself. Never again. He’d never let anything like
this happen again. If he survived… somehow, he felt Naraku wasn’t going to do
this and let him die right after suffering. No, he’d want this to drag on,
eating him away inside.
There
was a long pause, and Naraku smiled, readying himself for the kill.
“Your
friends have come for you.”
Miroku
looked up, realization striking him.
“…what?” it took a moment for the words to actually hit home. He felt a
stirring within his chest. They were looking for him…
“I
wonder what they’ll think when they find out what you’ve done. Surrendered to
me…” Naraku’s eyes glinted. “Will they even want to have rescued you?”
Miroku
jerked. Could he be right…? No. Of course not- this was Naraku, the master of
manipulation. He was lying, trying to break Miroku’s spirit. He felt another
stirring- but this one of anger. How dare Naraku try to turn his own feelings
against him?! He glared back at the hanyou, defiance dancing in those beautiful
violet eyes.
“You’re
lying.” He snarled. “You might as well, give up; I know they’d never abandon
me, even if they did know about… about…” his voice faltered. “…last night.
They’re not like you, Naraku. Not like normal people, either.” His voice grew
bolder, triumph showed in his features. “And no matter what you do to me, I
know they’ll take me as I am.”
Naraku
only smirked. Time to switch tactics.
He
didn’t speak for a long while, only looked out through the forest. The
protected clearing he had imprisoned Miroku in was a beautiful place- even more
so in the soft dawn light. He watched the ferns sway in a seemingly nonexistent
breeze, the leaves shake themselves two and fro, as if driving off the last
vestiges of sleep.
“So
loyal. It would be a shame if something should… happen to either one of them,”
he smiled.
Miroku’s
eyes flashed. “…”
“Especially
that human girl, Kagome… so defenseless. Inu-Yasha would be all too easy to
dispose of. But Kagome… ah, I’d have some fun with her before I let her die,”
he looked to Miroku, his gaze boring right through the monk’s brain. “If you
know what I am insinuating…”
“You…
you wouldn’t…”
“I
would, and you know it,” Naraku allowed his long lashes to hide his eyes.
“Unless properly persuaded, that is.”
“What
do you want?” Miroku tensed.
“Your
ultimate surrender.”
“You
already have that. Remember? You… what you did last night. Isn’t that what you
wanted?”
“I
want more, Miroku. Much, much more.” Naraku knelt before him. “I want you to do
me the favor I did for you last night.”
Miroku
was speechless, his jaw slack as he stared at Naraku. He didn’t mean… he could
not mean…
“I…
want you…” he leaned forward, his face only inches from his helpless
victim’s. “To take me.”
Fury
rose in Miroku’s heart, and he tensed himself, ready to strike out at the
hanyou. Before he could move, Naraku spoke again. “You have two choices. Either
you comply, or I will prove true to my word. I will have my way with your lady
friend, while you watch.” He shrugged. “It makes no matter to me. Think about
it.”
He
stood, looking to the sky. “But first, I need to feed you- you cannot be
expected to perform on an empty stomach…” he paused. “That is, if you will
comply…”
Miroku
bowed his head, shaking. This wasn’t happening. He had to convince himself of
that. But still… lady Kagome… the though of her being violated at Naraku’s
hands brought him reeling back into reality. “Alright.” He croaked.
“As
expected.” Naraku leaned forward, languidly licking Miroku’s cheek. The monk
jerked, but did not pull away. “I shall return sly.”ly.”
-.-
Inu-Yasha
and Kagome ran into each other- literally- only half an hour after they’d split
up.
“Dammit!”
Inu-Yasha cursed, glaring out at the forest. “We’re not making any progress…
and Sango’ll be awake soon.”
Kagome
picked up on what he was thinking. “…maybe… we should go back? I mean, if she
wakes up, she might come looking for him to, and we kinda need to stick together,
if Naraku is behind all of this…”
“He
is. Trust me.” The hanyou’s brilliantly golden eyes narrowed. He had no idea
what kind of sick things Naraku would do to Miroku, but if they ever wanted to
see their friend alive again, they’d need to find him.
And,
like he mentioned before, if they were divided, they’d never stand a chance.
“Right.
Let’s go.” The hanyou offered Kagome his back, and soon the duo was speeding
back in the direction of the village.
-.-
Miroku
was staring at his hand.
The
delicate purple sheath had remained on it even through all of Naraku’s torture.
He wasn’t supposed to take it off yet- according to Mushin’s directions, doing
so would only prove fatal.
But
if he was to die… he’d like to take Naraku with him.
The
monk shuddered. He was beginning to prefer death over… what he was about to do.
He knew very well if he unleashed the Kazaana… he might destroy Naraku. If he
failed, he would die- he new that much. Despite the fun the hanyou was having,
he was sure Naraku wouldn’t keep a dangerous plaything around for long.
And
then he’d go after the others…
Miroku
shook his head. No. If he was going to take Naraku down, he’d have to do it
without fail. Perfectly. And, in a forest, where even a single shrub or tree
could be the final undoing of the Kazaana, he couldn’t be one hundred percent
sure of a victory.
And
his friend’s lives… he valued them too much to go on anything other than a
hundred percent.
“You’re
certainly quiet.”
Miroku
twitched. Naraku was back.
He
didn’t look up, but he couldn’t avoid the pile of food Naraku dumped in his
lap- loosely wrapped in the purple cloth from Miroku’s robe. The one Naraku had
used for a collar, after ripping it in two.
Miroku
couldn’t help but give a wry grin. So one half was to be used to bind him, and
the other used for a knapsack. He unfolded it- inside were a variety of fruits,
a hunk of meat, and some edible herbs.
Miroku
hadn’t eaten in nearly two days- he dug into the provisions hungrily, though
still retained his dignity. He wasn’t provided with chopsticks, so he ate as
neatly at he could with his hands.
Naraku
watched him carefully. He felt a strange sense of… he didn’t know what. He was
seeing just how frail this human was. A few days without food, and he had become
ravenous. Pleasure was evident in those intoxicatingly violet eyes… odd. Simply
consuming food could bring such bliss to a human.
Naraku
suspected it would be harder to keep a human alive than to simply kill it. He
reached to his side, pulling out a goatskin of water, and tossing it to Miroku,
who drank deeply.
Naraku
cocked a brow. He was even more thirsty than he was hungry!
Miroku
drained the entire skin, gasping when he had done so. Naraku took it, surprised
when he discovered that it was completely empty, and stared at Miroku.
“Thirsty,
were you?”
Miroku
did not say anything or look to him. “…”
“Come
now, surely you haven’t decided to become a mute?”
“…”
Naraku
chuckled, watching Miroku. “Are you ready, monk?”
“Yes.”
Miroku said flatly, pushing the remains of his breakfast aside, still not
looking up. Inwardly he was screaming in rage, but he wouldn’t give Naraku the
satisfaction of seeing him angry. Or scared.
He
was going to turn the tables. He was going to scare Naraku shitless.
Naraku
leaned forward, his face nearly touching the monk’s. “I might consider
releasing you, if you beg.”
Miroku
stared back, lifting his gaze.
Naraku
paused, uncertain- there was a fire in those eyes-
-and
Miroku leaned forward, violently and suddenly kissing Naraku. The hanyou was
taken aback- but quite pleased. Miroku roughly gripped the sides of Naraku’s
face, deepening the kiss by forcing his tongue into the other man’s
surprisingly soft, inviting mouth. Naraku responded with vigor, and for a moment
both men seemed to actually be enjoying themselves, their tongues writhing
wetly against one another.
Miroku
finally drew away, breathing raggedly. He might lose his nerve is he didn’t
react in the heat of the moment. He couldn’t think; he had to react on the
primal level.
He
forced the hanyou back, biting down deeply on the small of Naraku’s neck.
Naraku made a small, surprised noise- people weren’t supposed to bite, and he
was fairly sure Miroku wasn’t part youkai.
He
certainly wasn’t complaining, however. Miroku moved to his neck, lightly
nipping, sucking the skin there. “Mmm…” Naraku purred, enjoying this treatment.
The
monk drew up, his eyes shut tight, trying desperately not to think. He shifted,
straddling Naraku’s legs, and pulling down the soft baboon pelt.
Naraku
had gone completely submissive under Miroku’s touch. He watched with
half-lidded eyes as Miroku pulled off the rest of his clothing.
Miroku
paused, drawing back. Naraku could see the monk would need a little
encouragement. He leaned forward, cupping between the priest’s legs, masagging
gently. Miroku’s eyes shot open, and he gave a small gasp.
Naraku
almost lost control at that point- he would have happily deigned to simply
flattening Miroku to the forest floor and fucking him brainless- but he had a
plan, and he needed to stick to it.
He
pulled away, and Miroku moved on- whether it was awareness to get this over
with, fear, or both that propelled the priest, Naraku couldn’t tell. He was
soon to discover that neither had provided the driving force.
Miroku dipped down, latching into a single nipple
and sucking. Naraku made a sharp, surprised sound- which was replaced by a
quite pleased one as the monk bit down gently.
He’d
turned Miroku on!
Miroku
leaned into him, and Naraku fell back. The monk slid forward, now straddling
Naraku’s waist, grinding his hips against the hanyou’s evident arousal. Naraku
groaned, fighting the urge to go limp, to allow his eyes to slide shut… he
didn’t want to expose himself, didn’t want to appear to vulnerable.
Mirok
pulled the baboon pelt down, now completely lost in the heat of the moment,
moving to lock and suck the flat plane of Naraku’s stomach. His clumsy,
desperate motions were proving to be Naraku’s undoing- he was steadily losing
his self-control, slowly giving in to the raging wants of his body-
-Miroku
yanked Naraku’s covering down fully, dipping down. He gripped the base of the
hanyou’s erection with one hand, and engulfed the flared head in his mouth.
Naraku
cried out, his hips rising clear off the gorund. Miroku gagged, choking, but
sucked still, reveling in Naraku’s strangled gasps of ecstasy.
Any
other time, Miroku might have taken this opportunity to attack- but at this
point that was the last thing on his mind. He drew back, now unsure of what to
do next, staring at Naraku with wide, lust-darkened eyes.
“What
now?” Miroku finally queried in a small voice, though his chest was heaving,
Naraku
growled. “I’m.. going to have my way with you. Right now. Alright?”
“…alright.”
Miroku said, sitting back. Naraku watched- his body shaking in carnal pleasure-
as the monk leaned back, spreading his legs.
The
last two sentences- Naraku would later realize- were the strangest exchange
that had ever occurred between them. In a trice Naraku had stripped Miroku
down, and the hanyou was soon fumbling for the lubricant.
Miroku
watched him, his only thoughts on the burning hardness between his legs. It was
nearly painful- he wanted release so much, even if it was from his most
loathed of enemies, Naraku…
Naraku
leaned forward, having finished with the preparations to his own member, and
now cupped Miroku’s backside, sliding a single finger past the tight ring of
muscle he found there.
“Uhhngh,”
Miroku groaned throatily, his entire body shaking and twitching.
Naraku
delved another slender finger inside, and Miroku writhed, positively begging
for more simply with the motions of his body. His chin was slightly lifted,
caught between bliss and aggressive desire, his face flushed deeply, those
haunting eyes shut tightly.
Naraku
worked the monk further, and Miroku spasmed and arched, giving a guttural
shout.
That
was as much as Naraku could take. Naraku positioned himself above the monk-
-Miroku
flipped him over with surprising strength, forcing Naraku’s legs apart. Before
Naraku could react, Miroku thrust forward, violently burying his length to the
hilt, digging his nails painfully into the other man’s sides.
Naraku
was mind-blown at the erotic mix of ecstasy and agony that throbbed through his
body. Miroku drew himself partway out- then slammed roughly into him again,
this time striking something within Naraku that made stars explode in the
hanyou’s brain.
Naraku screamed, his hips rising to meet the furious
assault. Miroku’s body was taut as a bowstring, thrusting powerfully into the
writhing demon below him. His thrusts became deeper, stronger, completely
filling Naraku, who was panting the monk’s name, having lost as reasoning of
reality, of what was happening, of how vulnerable he was.
Not
that Miroku would have hurt him now.
Naraku
felt the building of pressure in his nether regions- and that same blinding
numbness that swept up his spine. He screamed, slamming himself into Miroku,
who echoed the motion, crying Naraku’s name as he released himself into the
constricting body below.
Both
men collapsed, utterly exhausted at the maddened effort. Miroku was limp, dead
weight atop Naraku, who was quickly recovering. He wasn’t completely out of
breath, but quite winded. And taking a hanyou’s breath away was no small feat.
When
Naraku looked to Miroku again, he found the human unconscious. Sitting up, he
drew the limp body up, to prevent him from rolling off onto the ground below.
He
was holding him. In his arms.
Struck
with a feeling he couldn’t quite place- as well as disgusted with himself,
Naraku dumped Miroku to the ground as if his skin were made of fire, drew up
his soiled garments, and melted back into the forest to do some much-needed
tidying up.
-----
Note: Err… yeah, that
sucked X.x Sorry for the long delay- once again… I’ll be sure to have Ch. 7 up
a bit snappier than this one. Yeah.
I hope this
isn’t turning into a romance fic… that would only complicate things, ne? How
could Naraku fall in love!? It’s impossible. There. I said it. I’ll stick to
it.
…maybe.