Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Layers
By : Macx
Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male
Views: 3143 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-part 1
- 1
Layers

by Macx and Lara Bee
Apparently AdultFFNet's latest problems erased a lot of my stories
and part of them, because all of the uploads had been complete. Suddenly
there were a ton of spelling mistakes and so forth, so all stories I could
check have been reuploaded... Sorry for the inconvenience.

Inuyasha murmured something inaudible and sat down cross-legged. Women!
Especially those he was traveling with! Unnerving, annoying, aggravating,
infuriating� women. Who needed them anyway?

�Inuyasha?�

And who needed this� this monk?!

Miroku stepped close, sinking down at his side in his irritating calm
way, and Inuyasha braced himself. He was sure a speech was heading his
way.

�It�s frustrating, isn�t it?�

Huh?

Inuyasha stared at the young monk in disbelief. No speech?

�I mean, they are so close, but you can't touch them. It�s unnerving
sometimes. One second you are their hero, having saved their lives, and
then � bang, what do you think I am. And you just sit there and ask yourself
what the hell you have done.�

�What are you talking about?� Inuyasha snarled, not in the mood for
talking.

�You must be as frustrated as I am, aren�t you? I mean, Kagome and
Kikyo��

�I don�t know what you mean.� Inuyasha rose swiftly, turning his back
on the other man and attempted to walk away.

Miroku's eyes were on his back and a faint, sad smile played around
his lips. �Oh, you know, Inuyasha. You know very well.�
* * *
Miroku was watching the hanyou in their midst and there was no mistaking
his rising tension. His temper was flaring more often than not and once
Kagome lost her own temper and used 'sit' to keep him in line.

Yes, something was up and Miroku knew just what it was.

It wasn't really surprising. Kagome and Inuyasha had been dancing around
each other ever since they had met. True, Miroku himself had come to join
the group only much later, but by then the bickering, arguing and downright
heated shouting matches worked like a well-oiled machine. And both enjoyed
it, he realized. It was a way for Inuyasha to blow off some steam and Kagome
had no scruples showing him when he went too far. His manners had truly
increased, but his tact lacked and sometimes Miroku wondered whether or
not Inuyasha actually knew he wasn't getting any further with the woman.

Not that Miroku himself was doing any better in that department. His
own womanizing skills hadn't gone any farther than some flirting and fondling
with a little grope here or there. His own frustration was starting to
match the hanyou's.

So he followed the other man as Inuyasha sought out a solitary spot
far away from the camp again. The hanyou sat underneath a tree, staring
out over the little valley that sloped away in front of him. Miroku joined
him.

"You have to do something about your problem," he remarked after a
while.

Inuyasha shot the monk a glare. How dare the insolent human follow him?
He had come here to be alone, get a grip on things � literally. Now there
was little chance of relieving that tension.

�You are way too tense, Inuyasha. In our line of work and life, tension
isn't always good. You need to relax, let your energies flow again. They
aren't right now, curled up and knotty as they are inside your stubborn
head." He flashed him a smile. "You know, there are many ways to get rid
of that.�

Inuyasha snorted, then stiffened.

Miroku�s hand was resting on his thigh, and the heat of his body seemed
to seep through his kimono. Inuyasha could feel Miroku�s fingertips caressing
the inside of his thigh minutely, and he exploded without thinking.

Miroku flew about four meters before he landed hard on the ground,
rolling himself back to his feet immediately. He had to give it to him,
he was a trained fighter.

�Don�t you ever dare touch me like that again, monk!� Inuyasha hissed,
fists clenched.

The other man just dusted off his clothing, smiling at him innocently.
The hanyou snorted and stormed away, before his anger would get the best
of him and he would tear the monk apart.
*
Miroku wasn't sure what had made him approach the other man like this.
Not that he hadn't thought about men before. Far from it, but he needed
an offspring. At least his father had told him so. No one had ever asked
Miroku if he wanted to pass this cursed air rip on to another innocent
life. His parents and his grandparents had had no qualms. Sure, father
a son and hope to kill Naraku before death; if not, tell the boy to go
on with the family quest.

He curled his right hand into a fist and pushed those thoughts away.
What right had he to burden a child with this?

Answer � none.

But still, raised as a man who had only eyes for the qualities of women,
who approached each and every one almost like on instinct, he had never
allowed himself to fall for what part of him wanted.

Miroku sighed.

Meeting Inuyasha had let that want flare again. He had never thought
he had a chance anyway. The hanyou was clearly infatuated with Kagome,
and the girl liked him, so he had set his sights on Sango, who, despite
her protests, interested him a lot more than any other woman he had ever
met before.

Still, the want remained. The secret dreams and hopes. Now he might
have a chance. Inuyasha wouldn't approach Kagome with his desires and Miroku
was a lot safer for him.

Maybe�

Just maybe�

A man could dream, he decided. As he did every night.
* * *
He couldn�t sleep. Lying in his blankets, arms crossed behind his head,
Inuyasha stared at the starry sky above him, feeling restless and nervous.
He had no idea where this feeling had come from or when it had started,
all he knew was that something wasn�t right. Sighing he rolled onto his
side. There hadn�t been any youkai attacks, no life threatening situations,
no fights of any kind - well, apart from Kagome�s hand that had landed
in his face just before he had been 'sat'� nothing. He was tense, wired,
ready to tear anyone or anything that came too close apart.

That had been the day Miroku had� A picture sprang up in his mind,
a memory of Miroku smiling, violet eyes looking at him intensely, a hand
on his thigh � now why was that making him gasp? Why was his leg still
tingling where the monk�s hand had been? And why was the warm tingling
sensation spreading through his body all of a sudden? Inuyasha shifted
in his blankets restlessly. Why by all seven hells was he thinking about
Miroku? Why was such a simple thing making him tense and anxious? As fleeting
as Miroku�s touch had been, as persistent were the effects. Not to mention
about what the monk had suggested� Inuyasha froze at the very thought.
And then his eyes widened in horror when he felt the tingling warmth rush
from his thigh throughout his entire body and concentrate itself in his
groin.

Oh� gods�

He was getting hard.

Just by thinking about Miroku? And about the things� Inuyasha threw
his blankets away in disgust and rose, making sure with one short glance
that he wasn�t waking any of the others before he glided into the nightly
forest.

He didn�t see the pair of violet eyes following him.
*
Inuyasha slid down a tree, breathing in the cool night air and tried
desperately to get his wayward mind back under control. Unfortunately it
seemed to have other ideas while it was presenting him with pictures of
Miroku � smiling at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, Miroku dripping
wet from the rain, soaked kimono clinging to his slender body like a second
skin, Miroku touching his thigh, hand gliding higher up his thigh oh so
slowly, until it reached his member, fingertips ghosting over his length�

Inuyasha surprised himself by moaning deep in his throat. Gods, he
was really getting it off by thinking of another man? Of Miroku of all
people? A part of his anatomy happily confirmed that thought by twitching
lightly and he let out another moan, head falling back against the tree
in misery.

It couldn�t be� it just couldn�t!

His apparent hardness begged to differ, twitching again, and he sighed.
He spread his bent legs slightly�

�You are way too tense, Inuyasha. You know, there are many ways to
get rid of that.�

Miroku�s words repeated themselves in his mind, and suddenly he felt
very alone, wished the monk was here with him, touching him like that again.
This time he wouldn�t reject him.

Gods� was he really that desperate?

Inuyasha moaned as he let his fingers slide into the kimono, closing
his eyes as he wrapped them around his hardness. Biting his lower lip to
suppress another moan, hips twitching into his own touch, he felt the sweet
tension build, felt himself getting closer � yet it wasn�t enough. Something
was missing, almost as if his own hand wasn�t enough anymore, something
like� Miroku... Inuyasha gasped, hips bucking helplessly as his climax
rolled over him with an unsuspected force.

Falling back he breathed harshly, riding out the last waves of his
completion, before he slowly dared to open his eyes again, only just comprehending
what it had been that had shoved him into such a powerful climax.

Miroku.

And the remembrance of one simple touch, one thought of the�man! Gods,
he was thinking about a man while he� and it had made him come like he
hadn�t in a long time. Inuyasha swore silently, disgusted and shocked with
himself while he cleaned himself up. He would have to face the others again,
would have to look into those enthralling violet eyes again� how could
he, after what had just happened?
*
Inuyasha walked back to the campsite, thoughts spinning chaotically
in his mind.

A twig snapped.

He whirled around, hand ready to pull Tetsuseiga out � when the well-known
scent told him he wasn�t in any immediate danger.

�What are you doing here, prying around in the middle of the night?�
he growled at the figure stepping out of the shadows.

�Maybe the same as you� looking at the stars, meditate a little��

Miroku smiled at him and suddenly Inuyasha was thankful for the dim
light preventing the monk from seeing him blush as his mind provided him
with a flash of images of Miroku doing what he had done back there� and
then it snapped back. What if Miroku had seen him? Gods�

�Never sneak up on me like that again, monk! Be grateful you�re still
alive!� he hissed, rushing past the other man.

�Inuyasha.�

�What?!�

Miroku reached out and gently picked a twig out of his unruly long
hair.

�Better have a friend watch your back in the night. One never knows
who might be� sneaking,� he murmured, turning.

Inuyasha gaped at his friend�s retreating form � and blushed even deeper.
Even if Miroku hadn�t actually seen him, he had definitely known.

Damn that man!
* * *
Time passed. Three days exactly. In that time Inuyasha watched his companion
closely, but Miroku was his charming self, giving him the same smiles he
gave to others, and he flirted with the women they met just the same. Somehow
it bothered Inuyasha. Not just the flirting but the fact that Miroku wasn't
the slightest bit disturbed by his reaction to the monk's advances. He
was a ladies, man, right? He didn't hit on men on a regular basis, correct?

Inuyasha grumbled to himself as he sat close to a river that ran near
their current camp site, an old shack Sango had discovered. He had stuffed
his hands into the sleeves of his robe, folded his legs under him, and
currently glared at the hapless fish swimming in the stream. His ears twitched
spasmodically.

He was confused.

He was angry.

He was still tense around the others, now especially Miroku. Where
before he had wanted more from Kagome, he now thought about the monk a
lot.

Too much! he thought angrily.

He was noticing the slight form under the black and purple robes, the
smiles, the hair hanging into his forehead, the sparkle in the violet eyes,
the little pony tail he longed to mess up�

Damn!

Inuyasha snarled to himself, hunching down more.

He had been even more rude and brusque in the last few days, especially
to Kagome and Miroku. While Kagome was used to his temper shifts where
she was concerned and usually countered with some of her own, Miroku wasn't.
Still, he took the insults and snide remarks almost stoically.

"There you are."

The voice made him jump and reach for Tetsuseiga and he barely relaxed
as he recognized who had surprised him. Miroku. The cursed monk had actually
managed to sneak up on him!

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"Sango and Kagome are bathing. I decided it's healthier for me to be
far away from where they are now."

Inuyasha arched a sarcastic eyebrow. "No peeking, Miroku?" he growled.

"No, I'm not in the mood."

"Now there's a first."

Miroku just smiled angelically and that smiled did more to Inuyasha's
insides than any youkai could.

"So, it's just the two of us," the dark-haired man said conversationally
and came closer.

The hanyou moved involuntarily back and bumped into the willow that
grew close to the river.

"We might just figure out what keeps you so tense, Inuyasha."

"I'm fine!"

"No, you're suffering from something that weighs heavily on you."

Inuyasha growled again but Miroku wasn�t even remotely impressed. Leaning
into his personal space he just smiled at the hanyou, placing one hand
on his hip. Inuyasha buried his claws into the tree he was leaning against,
inhaling deeply at the rush of desire this simple touch was causing. Miroku�s
hand glided over his hip and down one thigh and Inuyasha felt himself shiver.

This wasn�t right, he shouldn�t allow the other man to touch him like
that, should shove him away immediately, he should� Gods, but his body
responded to the touch, leaving him frozen to the spot while Miroku touched
him even further, hands gliding between his legs, cupping and squeezing
gently. Inuyasha gasped with the wave of sensations, feeling his hips twitch
into his friend�s grip.

�You�re hard, Inuyasha. You need this, you need relief, to let go�
clear your mind. Let me help?�

No� get away from me� Inuyasha wanted to scream his denial, but to
his shock he just moaned something incoherent, felt Miroku starting to
caress and stroke him. The monk was really close now, leaning against him,
and he could feel the other man�s breath on his neck, smelled his arousal,
matching his own. Miroku was now stroking him through the fabric of his
kimono and Inuyasha closed his eyes, giving in to his own desire, the increasing
sensation of heat and want Miroku was creating inside him, until
it became too much. Gasping and panting he felt himself jerk violently
into Miroku�s hand, helplessly coming again and again.

Miroku let go of him and Inuyasha almost sagged to the ground, his
knees not much more than jelly. Only the tree behind him and the hard body
in front of him kept him upright.

"I think we found the source of your tension," the monk murmured into
one pointed ear.

Inuyasha pushed him away and the infuriating smile made the hanyou
want to wipe it off that handsome face. He decided on a glare, but even
that didn't faze the dark-haired man.

"Nothing's wrong with me!" Inuyasha snapped.

"Of course."

Miroku smiled more. Inuyasha just whirled around and stalked off down
the river. He needed some distance, he needed some time alone, and he needed
to clean himself.

Miroku watched the hanyou leave, a hard to interpret expression in his
eyes. He still saw the expression of pleasure and relief on the smooth
features, heard the panting breaths, the racing pulse of his companion.

You forced yourself on him, part of him whispered and he curled away
from that thought.

Was he really that desperate that he had used Inuyasha's growing need
to satisfy himself? To touch what he normally wouldn't? To hear those wonderful
moans and whimpers?

Yes, that part told him. You have. You gave him no way out.

Damn!

He settled down in the shade of the tree and stared out over the river.
He had forced him; his friend. Someone who was confused about his body's
needs and desires, about what his mind told him and what he so truly craved.

He loves Kagome, you stupid houshi. All you are is a way of relief,
to be thrown away.

But what if he was so desperate for that contact that he was willing
to be just that�?
* * *
The night was cloudy and almost starless, the moon a fat blob of silver
against the black sky. A small fire flickered in the middle of their current
camp, right in the middle of nowhere. They had left the last village two
days ago and hadn't met many people on their path. Sango, Kagome and Shippo
were all fast asleep. Inuyasha had chosen to spend the night outside the
circle of friends, and Miroku hadn't fallen asleep yet. He was gazing at
the canopy of leaves, his body and mind relaxed.

He turned his head when he sensed someone approaching him. In the sudden
ray of moonlight peeking through some clouds he saw a flash of silvery
white, golden canine eyes glowed slightly. The priest smiled faintly when
he realized who was standing in front of him, and he tossed his blanket
aside, following the retreating form of his friend into the dark forest.

Stupid, part of him raged. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You're setting yourself
up for a lot of pain.

But the desire to hold this man again, to see the features in total
rapture, to hear the moans and whimpers as he pleasured him was too strong.

Inuyasha was waiting for him at the nearby clearing, leaning against
a tree, arms crossed in front of his chest.

He didn�t even look up when Miroku approached the stiff form, knowing
only too well what Inuyasha needed. He had hoped that it also was what
he wanted. Miroku stopped for a brief second, frowning at the thought,
but then Inuyasha did look up, and Miroku was lost.

Reaching out he ran a hand through the long silvery strands, feeling
their silken texture as they played over his skin. Inuyasha stood stock
still, only unfolding his arms as he relaxed against the tree, his golden
eyes closing as he shuddered.
*
Inuyasha didn�t known what had gotten into him to wake Miroku, all he
knew was that he couldn�t forget the monk�s touch, or how his lips had
felt on his skin, sending him over the edge. And he knew that something
inside of him needed that kind of touch again, needed to be caressed and
held, needed -- Miroku. And Miroku had understood.

He was standing in front of him again, close, oh so close he could
smell him easily, even smell his arousal. Miroku�s fingers were gently
running through his hair. The fleeting caress made him relax and he shuddered
when fingertips were ghosting over his bare neck, making him tilt his head
in an unspoken request. The other man wasted no time taking it, and Inuyasha
gasped when Miroku leaned against him, gently pushing his hair aside and
started nibbling and kissing at the exposed skin of his neck. It sent trails
of fire through his body, concentrating in his groin, and he shivered again.
Miroku�s hand roamed gently over his body, stroking him through the fabric
of the kimono and Inuyasha dug his claws into the tree behind him. They
had been standing like this before and the mere memory made his manhood
stir � and right now it was much more than just a memory. Miroku gently
nipped at his jaw line, fingers gliding between the layers of his clothes,
searching for bare skin.

�Inuyasha,� he whispered hoarsely, embrace tightening, and he could
feel his friend�s arousal now.

Miroku slipped a knee between his legs, pressing again his crotch and
Inuyasha couldn�t suppress the moan this caused, hips twitching into the
pressure.

�Let me see you. Please?�

He felt himself nod, felt Miroku untie his kimono, cool night�s air
caressing his skin, followed by hands ghosting over his flesh, making him
shudder.

�Gods, you�re beautiful,� a soft voice whispered before Miroku gently
bit the crook of his neck, licking his way down his chest, sucking at his
nipples.

Inuyasha moaned as a jolt of yet unknown pleasure ran through his body,
knees giving way. Miroku�s hands were there, guiding him to the ground,
before they continued their ministrations, slipping between his legs, teasing
his hardness. Miroku worked his way down his body, making Inuyasha shudder
and tremble with every new spot he paid attention to.

Suddenly he felt a hot wetness engulfing him, and Inuyasha cried out
with both surprise and desire, hips bucking helplessly as Miroku�s tongue
and fingers did wonderful things to him. He buried his clawed hands in
the other man�s dark hair, spreading his legs involuntarily to grant more
access and felt Miroku tease and stroke parts of his body that he�d never
thought of as sensitive. But obviously they were, and the sensations were
incredible, making him moan and pant, writhe and buck. And then Miroku
sucked at his length and he cried out the other man�s name as the pleasure
reached its peak.

Coming back to himself slowly Inuyasha rolled onto his side, pulling
the open kimono over his exposed body. Violet eyes were watching him sadly
as he rose without a word and vanished into the forest. Miroku sighed as
he touched his lips, the evidence of the hanyou�s desire still traceable,
his scent still lingering on his own body. He gasped when he touched his
own hardness and closed his eyes.

Minutes later he whispered a name as he reached his own completion,
a name he desperately wanted to scream out passionately but would never
dare to.

He had let himself fall. Fall for the hanyou, fall for Inuyasha, and
it was more dangerous than facing any of Naraku's minions or Naraku himself.

He was losing his heart to someone who had no place for it.
* * *
Two days had passed since their encounter in the woods and thankfully
Inuyasha had too much to do beating the hell out of two youkai making the
lives of a small community near the river harder than it should be. It
helped to distract from the confusing emotions boiling inside of him. Slashing
and punching at the ugly face in front of him, he took less satisfaction
than usual out of beating a youkai opponent and when he finally delivered
the death blow, there was almost no feeling of victory inside of him. The
only feeling that continued was that of confusion.

And longing.

He pushed it away and locked it behind steel doors. He didn't long
for Miroku's touch, his nearness, his smile. But as he returned to the
others who had together defeated the second youkai, he couldn't but glance
at the monk, check him for injuries as he had formerly only done for Kagome,
and reassure himself that there were no wounds. A few bruises maybe, but
no wounds.

How had his interested in Kagome waned, and flared for this man? This
annoying womanizer who couldn't wait to find the mother of his children
to father a son? Someone who charmed his way into every female's heart?
Someone who flirted with each and every woman they met?

And who had touched him so gently; who had brought him release in a
way Inuyasha had never thought was possible. Who had stroked and kissed
and nibbled at his skin, who had driven him higher and higher until he
had exploded in a climax that had shattered his soul.

Inuyasha screwed his eyes shut and growled to himself. No! He didn't
fancy the other man, nor did he long for him.

But that night, he was back with him again. And the next. And the one
after that. Safe from youkai attacks, Miroku rekindled and stoked the flame
inside the hanyou. It became an addiction, a dangerous addiction he couldn't
let go of.

Inuyasha hissed and bucked as those well known hands on his body opened
his kimono, brushing over his skin, stroking and caressing spots that elicited
moans and shudders, lips and tongue added to increase the pleasure. He
closed his eyes to the other man�s ministrations. Miroku could play him
like an instrument, knew where to tease featherlike and where to stroke
harder, where to lick and where to bite, and what effects each had on the
hanyou. But then the touches went away, the rustle of clothing the only
thing he could hear. Looking, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw
Miroku straddle him � as naked as on the day he was born. He had seen the
monk in the nude before, but that had been an entirely different matter.

�Shhh,� Miroku just whispered, stretching out over him, and then he
could feel the other man�s body pressed against his, skin meeting skin
for the first time since they had become � what? Lovers?

He didn�t get the chance to think about it because Miroku continued
to touch him � but this time it was his entire body gliding over his, sensations
new and oh so good, making him forget about anything than this moment.
Miroku reached for his pocket, producing a little jug, and Inuyasha frowned.
What�? The scent coming from the oily liquid was a fresh aroma, like some
herbs the monk occasionally used, and he poured it into his palms.

�What are you doing?�

�It�s all right, Inuyasha. This will help you relax, get rid of all
the tension.�

�I don�t want� gods!� The latter was almost cried out when Miroku stroked
his entire hardness with his slick hands, holding down his bucking hips.

His eyes slid shut of their own volition and he flew in the new sensation.

�Inuyasha, listen. I want you to hold absolutely still now, until I
tell you otherwise, or you�ll hurt me. Can you do that?�

Sure, everything�

Inuyasha managed a nod � and then his eyes flew open as he heard Miroku
give a hissing moan, felt something incredible hot and slick and tight
sliding onto him �

�Miroku! What �?�

Violet eyes looked down at him, dark with a desire he hadn�t noticed
there ever before. Miroku supported himself on his chest as he minutely
lowered himself onto his length, taking him into his own body! And gods,
if this didn�t feel good, better than anything the monk had ever done to
him before. Groaning he fought the urge to thrust, to just take � Miroku
had said it would hurt him? He knew he was stronger than the human, could
easily break him should he not be in control of his powers.

But then Miroku made a sound deep in his throat and moved, and Inuyasha
couldn�t help it. With a low growl he grabbed the man�s wrist and flopped
them around, burying himself deep into the other man, regardless of whatever
he might say. To his surprise Miroku didn�t protest. On the contrary �
he cried out, met every deep thrust with one of his own, almost sobbing
every time.

�Inu�yasha� gods, yes � I love you��

Golden eyes widened in shock, but then Miroku bucked wildly, screaming
his name again, pulling him down into him and reality fled him as he got
lost in his own pleasure.
*
Looking down at the man under him, still breathing hard in the afterglow
of his own hard climax, Inuyasha pulled back roughly, ignoring the hiss
of discomfort that action caused. He rearranged his clothes and rose swiftly,
teeth clenching as he took in the naked body to his feet. Miroku lay sprawled
on the ground, eyes still closed and the confirmation of his own passion
drying on his stomach. He looked absolutely � adorable.

�� I love you� �

The harshly panted words, cried out in the throws of passion were still
ringing in Inuyasha�s ears. He wasn�t even sure the monk had realized what
he had said, but he had no doubt he had meant it.

�Inuyasha?�

Puzzled violet eyes were looking up at him, making something inside
of him cringe.

�No!�

And he fled.

�Inuyasha!�

Miroku slowly gathered his clothes, cleaning himself up mechanically,
and slid into the kimono. He had stimulated Inuyasha to his limits, had
provoked the hanyou into taking him, had himself allowed to let go and
feel. And for a brief moment he had felt, had let down his guard and made
himself believe it was for real.

Baka that he was.
* * *
The village consisted of seven huts on man-high poles, each with a ladder
or stairs leading to the entrance. The little group walked down the only
road and Kagome looked around curiously.

"No one's here," she remarked.

"That's obvious," Inuyasha muttered.

Everything appeared deserted. There were no animals, no baskets of
fruit or vegetables, no firewood stocked near the houses, no dogs barking,
no stray cats � and no people.

Miroku walked over to the closest house and climbed up the stairs.
"Hello?" he called.

No answer.

Pushing aside the tatters that had been a curtain once, he looked inside.

"Empty," he told the others.

Inuyasha frowned. Something felt wrong here and it wasn't the lack
of life. Suddenly his nose picked up a sharp scent and his ears flattened.
He whirled around as sensitive ears picked up a rustle and a growl left
his throat.

A man had appeared in the middle of the street and at his sight, Kagome
gave a little gasp, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. He was ancient,
wrinkled, dressed in old clothes that had seen better days, and he kept
himself upright with a staff. Inuyasha felt like crouching down and preparing
for a fight, drawing his sword to ward off evil � because of this little
man?

Granted, a very ugly man. His face was horribly disfigured as if something
had slashed it with deep claws. One eye was covered by a piece of cloth,
the other had been almost destroyed by the attack. He was hairless, with
only a few tufts still left on his scarred head. One ear was intact, the
other no longer existent.

"Eh, hello," Miroku called and descended the stairs. "We're travelers
and�"

"Demon," the old man hissed.

Miroku stopped and shot Inuyasha a look. The hanyou didn't move from
his battle-ready position.

"You and your kind have killed us all!" the old man raged. "You seek
to destroy us, take our land, our children, our very souls!"

"Inuyasha isn't evil!" Kagome protested.

The horrible face turned to her and she froze. "Youkai or hanyou, they're
all alike. You collaborate, you protect, you love them! But in the end,
they betray you and do this!" He gestured at his face.

"A demon did this to you?" Miroku asked, coming closer.

"Yes, a demon of the worst sort. His line, his blood! I defied him
by surviving, and I defy you by cursing your very existence, hanyou! May
you find what you so badly want! May you turn into what you crave to be!
May you slay all who travel with you!"

And then he added something in a dialect Inuyasha had never heard.
It was neither a youkai language, nor a human one. Miroku just paled and
shook his head.

"No!" he protested. "You can't do that to him!"

But the man just walked away. As the monk tried to follow, the fragile
looking figure lashed out with his staff, catching Miroku unawares and
belting him hard. He fell to his knees with a gasp. And the man was gone.

Inuyasha felt a flash of something shoot through him as Miroku fell,
as he heard the soft gasp of pain, but he caught himself. Instead his eyes
scanned for the strange man, he sniffed the air for the sharp smell, but
there was nothing left. He was gone.

"Miroku, are you all right?" Kagome called.

"Fine," the monk managed and got to his feet. "For such a frail old
man he's very fast and very strong�"

"What did he say?" Sango demanded.

Dark eyes met amber ones and Inuyasha felt a curl of foreboding.

"It was a curse," Miroku said softly.

"Curse?" Shippo echoed. "Why? What for? What kind of curse?"

The violet eyes didn't waver. "That the hanyou shall be the youkai
that hides inside at the next full moon. To give in to the dark and evil
side, to kill and slay, and drink blood. To become the creature of darkness
they all came from."

Inuyasha felt cold all of a sudden. Memories of his demon side rose
unbidden, the sight of blood on his elongated claws, the smell of death,
the thrill of taking a life, be it youkai or� human. The rush of it all.

Kagome wrapped her arms around herself. "Why would he do such a terrible
thing? And can this be a real curse?"

Miroku shrugged, breaking the eye-contact to Inuyasha. "I don't know.
Maybe it's a hoax, but maybe not. We should leave."

Everyone looked at Inuyasha, who glared back defiantly. He drew himself
up to his full height and pushed past them.

"He's just a mad old man," he huffed.

But somewhere deep inside he felt the first tendrils of fear.

What if not?

What if the curse came true�?
* * *
"So what if the curse is true?" Sango asked matter-of-factly as they
sat around their evening fire, far away from the deserted village and the
scarred old man.

Inuyasha had chosen a place far away from them, sitting on a sturdy
branch in a tree, gazing out into the night. Kagome had gone to talk to
him, but she had returned with no luck at all. Her mood was as dark as
everyone's and not even Shippo had something to remark on.

"Then we keep away from Inuyasha tomorrow night, let it run its course,"
Miroku replied calmly.

"I wonder why he did it," Kagome murmured. "And who disfigured him
so horribly?"

Sango shrugged. "Some youkai. Then again, the old man said he was of
Inuyasha's line and blood."

"You mean� a relative?"

Her brows drew together. "There is only one I can think of. Sesshoumaru."

They stared into the fire until Miroku rose. "I'll see if I can talk
to him," he murmured and walked out into the darkness around their fire.

Miroku had no trouble finding their missing hanyou. He just walked to
the tree Inuyasha had settled down on and sank against the wide trunk.
Silence reigned around them, only broken by the soft breeze rustling through
the grass and leaves, as well as the occasional insect.

"What do you want?" Inuyasha finally broke the spell.

"Nothing."

Silence once again. Then, "Leave."

"No."

There was a low growl. "I don't want your company!"

"But you need it."

"What for?"

"You'll know."

Miroku smiled a little as Inuyasha had no reply for that. He hadn't
planned on any kind of physical closeness tonight. He just wanted to be
there when Inuyasha finally decided he needed to share. In whatever way
the hanyou deemed it right.

Time passed as he leaned against the tree, and finally there was a
soft rustle as Inuyasha jumped off the tree. He landed in a crouch, golden
eyes aglow in the bright light of the almost full moon. Tomorrow it would
be full; tomorrow those eyes might be red and filled with evil.

They regarded each other for a moment, then Inuyasha joined him, sitting
down slightly turned away from him. Miroku risked his luck and touched
the tense form. The hanyou didn't pull away, just looked at the pale hand
holding him, then the human who had dared to touch without asking.

Ever since their encounter on the forest floor, ever since Inuyasha
had come inside him, the hanyou had changed somehow. He was looking at
Miroku from under drawn eyebrows, those amber eyes filled with something
the monk couldn't read. It was as if Inuyasha expected something to happen,
but nothing had.

In a way Miroku understood the fear that lurked beneath that tough
exterior. No one had ever been that close to the half-demon, no one had
ever done this to him, and he let Miroku come back. He actually came for
him, silently requesting the intimate moments. But each time he recoiled
after the act, shocked by the need and the emotions, afraid to let the
truth sink in.

Miroku himself had accepted his truth already. He loved a hanyou; he
loved this hanyou.

"Inuyasha," Miroku said softly.

"The curse is not true," was the growled reply.

"It might be. It sounded and� felt real."

"You're wrong!"

"We can't risk anything."

"I have Tetsuseiga! I can't turn into a demon!" Inuyasha spat, then
pulled roughly away. "I can't."

"We can't risk it," Miroku repeated patiently.

"So what do you want to do? Seal me somewhere?" There was almost fear
in that harsh voice. Almost.

"I have to. For your own good."

Their eyes met and Miroku steeled himself against the flash of betrayal
in the hanyou's amber expression. The ofuda were to ward off evil; Inuyasha
wasn't evil, but he would be dangerous.

"We will find a secluded place," the monk explained, "like the cave
we passed by yesterday, and we'll wait out the moon."

Golden eyes closed and claws buried into the soft ground. "It can't
be for real," he whispered.

Miroku moved slowly toward him and those wonderful eyes rose to look
at him. There was suddenly so much pain and desperation in there, so much
fear and terror, he longed to just kiss him. But then the emotions were
wiped away. Miroku watched as Inuyasha drew back, rose to his feet, and
finally jumped up into the tree again.

"Sleep well," he whispered, knowing the hanyou would hear him.

Then he turned and went back to the camp.
* * *
Morning was a solemn affair. They made breakfast, then packed and started
to walk back the way they had come, circumventing the deserted village.
Sango and Kagome had agreed that the cave might be the best option since
it had only one entrance and exit. Inuyasha had joined them but declined
any kind of food, and he was silent.

Kagome had announced that she had to be back home because of school
and an important exam, but she was reluctant to go. Her large eyes showed
her worry and while it touched something inside Inuyasha, the emotions
of before had changed. Where he had missed her when she hadn't been there
or yearned for something he might never have with the human girl, there
was now just acceptance of her presence. Maybe he had loved her; at least
he had felt some softer emotions when it came to Kagome. But now it was
nothing but the need to protect her in their quest for all the shards of
the jewel.

Kagome regarded the white-haired hanyou worriedly. "I should stay�"
she started.

Inuyasha brusquely shook his head. "No!"

"But.."

"Go home!" he snapped.

Annoyance and stubbornness rose inside the girl and she drew herself
up. "Right. The mighty Inuyasha can fight this on his own."

"Exactly! Just go!"

Because if she stayed, Kagome would be just another possible victim
to the demon. Like Shippo and Sango and � Miroku. His golden eyes fell
on the man in question and he got was an encouraging smile. Damn the monk!

"Okay, I'm leaving," Kagome announced. "Sango, could you get me back
to the well?"

The demon huntress looked at Inuyasha, then shot a silent question
at Miroku.

"Go," he replied softly. "I'll keep an eye on him. Take Shippo, too.
The less innocents, the better."

Inuyasha tried not to wince at that. If he truly did turn into the
full demon, he would kill whatever came too close, whatever he fancied
taking, and he wouldn't stop at his friends.

"Be careful," Sango said seriously.

"As always."

She picked up Kirara and threw her in the air. The small, two-tailed
cat morphed into her much more impressive self, fire erupting from her
paws and tails. Kagome and Sango climbed on her back, then Shippo jumped
up. Three pairs of eyes looked down at the two men, then Kirara flew off,
moving almost lazily.

"You should've left with them," Inuyasha growled, not looking at his
only companion.

"And you shouldn't be alone," Miroku argued.

Inuyasha glared at him. "I'm old enough to look after myself!" he snapped.

A mild smile graced the monk's lips. "Of course, but if the curse runs
true, you need someone to� hold you back."

"Yes, the seals," Inuyasha growled, then the hanyou turned on his heels
and stalked away toward the cave. He was very much aware of the light steps
of Miroku as the other followed him, unperturbed by his outburst.

Secretly he was glad to have the company.
* * *
He couldn't believe that the curse would overpower Tetsuseiga. The sword
made of his father's fang was powerful, had always lifted the demon-side,
turning him back into the hanyou he had been born as. Still, Inuyasha felt
a curl of fear in his stomach. The old man with the missing eye had scared
him � even if he would never admit it to anyone. Inuyasha wasn't afraid
of anything; never.

Unbidden, the ancient, wrinkled, scarred face reappeared before his
inner eyes. A face disfigured by his brother's minions. A man who had fought
death and survived, but he had never recovered. Mad and powerful, he had
cursed the only living relative of the demon who had taken his face.

Inuyasha sank to the floor of the cave, amber eyes on the mouth of
the cave he had chosen as his prison. He couldn't but notice the lone figure
standing there, working with the seals. The innocent looking ofuda with
the wards written on them had been pinned to rocks at the mouth of the
cave. Miroku had been his silent companion throughout the journey to this
cave, which was little more than a crack in the stone that widened to form
the place he now just silently waited in. For the transformation? For any
kind of move or word from Inuyasha? The hanyou didn't know.

He shivered again as something cold brushed over his soul and his grip
on the sword tightened. He wouldn't give in to his demon side. Tetsuseiga
would protect him.

Soft steps alerted him to the human's approach, but he refused to look
up. Tetsuseiga on his crossed legs, he gazed at the sheath that covered
the dangerous sword. His hair fell like a curtain around him and kept the
outside world away.

Thoughts whirled, reminded him of the times he had been a demon.

Inuyasha chased them away.

"Inuyasha?"

The gentle voice made him look up against his will and his eyes met
the dark gaze of his companion. Violet eyes, such a strange color. The
narrow face with its defined lines, so smooth and unmarked by the hardships
of his young life. The small, golden earrings� Inuyasha longed to explore
them, run his claws over the pierced lobes�

Miroku's face showed tension, but his expression was still soft, worried�
loving.

Inuyasha swallowed back the need to jump up and leave. He couldn't
deal with those emotions on top of his rising fear and anxiety. Dusk was
approaching and soon the full moon would rise. He could almost feel it.

A hand cupped his face, stroked back the heavy hair, and he shivered
at the touch, then drew back abruptly. Miroku's touch burned on his skin,
reminded him of the still not confronted conflict inside him.

"You should leave," he managed.

"I'm staying," was the simply reply. "Because you need me."

With that Miroku straightened and resumed his position at the mouth
of the cave.

Because he needed him.

No!

Inuyasha clenched his teeth. He had never needed anyone. Not his father,
not his brother, no friends! With the death of his mother he had sealed
all those needs inside � until Kikyou had cracked that seal, until Kagome
had widened the opening, and until finally Miroku had slipped inside and�
changed something.

Golden eyes looked at the monk. Inuyasha felt the yearning again; for
something he couldn't put into words.

There was a sudden, sharp pain inside him and he gasped soundlessly,
his hand clenching around Tetsuseiga. Then agony really hit him. He had
no time to scream, just feel the burning pain of where his hands touched
the sword. He flung it away and jumped up, rage building inside of him,
ears flattening against his head, longer canines baring. His sensitive
nose picked up the smell of the dark woods outside, of the life force at
his beg and call, and he felt his own strength multiply.

It felt so good.

It was intoxicating.

And then he picked up on the human scent.

Fresh and familiar.

Oh yes, very familiar. He had tasted this human before, remembered
the texture of his skin against his hands, claws brushing over the layers
of satiny cloth covering fragile skin.

Fragile. So, so fragile.

His mouth twisted into a cruel smile.
* * *
Miroku watched the first stars appear and soon the pale orb of the moon
was visible against the dark purple sky. Not yet night, but no longer day.
The time between both; dusk.

There was a sudden thunderous roar behind him, followed by a crackle,
and Miroku whirled around. His mouth fell open in shock as he discovered
Inuyasha making his way across the seals, staggering, stumbling, but coming
closer. He shouldn't even be able to move after stepping onto the first
ofuda!

His hair hung into his eyes and his arms were by his side, claws flexing
slightly as he came to s top outside the barrier.

"Inuyasha?" Miroku called, shocked.

No one had ever broken so many seals and had still walked! He had taken
out youkai with just one of them, killing or disabling them! But his friend�
Inuyasha was half human! Even when his demon side took over, how could
he be stronger than the strongest youkai Miroku had ever fought?

The hanyou stumbled and stood still, panting. Each breath was a soft
hiss.

"Inuyasha? Are you all right?" Miroku asked, slightly worried.

"All right? I'm perfectly fine. More than fine. I'm excellent."

The last was almost growled and when the other turned, Miroku's eyes
widened in shock.

Red demon eyes burned at him, lips were pulled back over the canine
teeth, and sharp claws flashed up and toward him. His reaction was one
out of instinct. He threw up his arms, brought his staff before him, and
tried to fend off the furious creature that had once been Inuyasha. Now
it was nothing but a demonic force, a source of anger and evil.

Claws clashed against his staff and he shuddered under the impact.
A second blow bit deep into the flesh of his left forearm and he screamed
in pain as deep gouges were torn down to the bone. He went down on his
knees, almost instinctively folding up around the injury that bled heavily
between the folds of his sleeve.

Inuyasha chuckled darkly. "Human," he growled. "Weak, despicable human."

He raised his blood-covered claws, smiling. It was sinister, evil,
and Miroku felt sick as the demon began to lick off the red fluid, smacking
his lips.

"But you taste good."

He couldn't fight him. Inuyasha was too strong and his only weapon
was the kazaana. Miroku wouldn't use it, though. Never against friends,
even if his friend was currently out to kill him without a shard of remorse.

"Time for you to die, monk," the demon hissed.

Through a haze of tears of pain, Miroku saw him approach and he couldn't
see anything of Inuyasha in the feral mask, the satisfied smile, the murderous
eyes.

"Inuyasha," he whispered, his right hand closing around his staff.
"Sorry."

And he swung at the demon.

Inuyasha jumped back, deeper into the cave, laughing. "You think that
can stop me, human?"

"No, but this can�"

And he started the chant. Closing his eyes, legs folded under him,
sitting in the mouth of the cave, Miroku started to whisper the incantations
to erect a barrier. For a moment, Inuyasha was frozen, then he jumped,
colliding hard with the magical field. Miroku risked a glance, and continued
to pour his mental energy into the wall that would keep Inuyasha in the
cave and away from the others.

A howl was his answer and the demon flung himself against the barrier
again and again. Miroku ignored it. He knew how strong he was, how long
he could withstand a physical attack. Almost absent-mindedly he wrapped
the tatters of his sleeve around the deep, serious wounds that leaked past
every bandage, then he shut out the real world.

He cut himself off from his body, from the pain, from the exhaustion
that would soon come.

And he redirected his energies into the barrier �

-- which started to vibrate under the attack.
* * *
Inuyasha as a half-demon was an impressive opponent. He was strong,
fast, resilient and a good fighter. His claws were dangerous, as was his
sword, but as long as he was the half-demon, he was still in control. There
was no killing frenzy, no blood lust, there was only the anger and the
heat of the battle. He could tell friend from foe.

As a full demon, there was little left of the man Miroku had fallen
in love with. There was the silvery white hair, the pointed dog-ears on
the top of his head, but except for that, nothing reminded of Inuyasha.
This was a demon now, a creature of evil, of destructive powers and the
need to slay. It was a thing in battle rage, hunting for blood, going for
the kill. Red eyes shone out of a feral face, long fangs gleamed from under
pulled back lips, and the claws were deadly tools.

Miroku had felt them bite into his flesh, cut through muscles and tendons
to the bone. They had severed blood vessels and he was losing a lot of
the vital fluid, but right now it was the least of his concerns.

Wincing under a new barrage of attacks, he concentrated on upholding
his barrier. He had erected such magical shields before, had held them
for hours, sometimes for more than a day, but never against such a ceaseless
attack, never while he was weakening physically. Hunger and thirst wouldn't
be a problem; blood loss and pain were.

A howl echoed through the cave and Inuyasha threw curses at him, foul
names, taunted and insulted him, but the monk let it all cascade off him.
The outside didn't exist, only the shields mattered. His mental barriers
reverberated under the onslaught and the pain in his head was close to
the one in his arm. It was a migraine of epic proportions, but pain was
nothing that mattered.

What did matter was keeping Inuyasha in the cave as long as the full
moon was in the sky. As the moon set, the curse would lift and Inuyasha
would be his old self again. Until then he would keep the others safe,
would keep Inuyasha safe. Sango would gladly kill the demon, or another
creature might be stronger and do the same. He wouldn't risk it. He was
Inuyasha's protection.

Perhaps at the cost of his own life.

He was vulnerable. There was no one to guard his back. No Sango, no
Kagome, no one� Should a demon or other creature pass by and decide to
take a bite out of him, he was easy prey. His senses were turned inward,
to the barrier.

The raging continued.

Miroku grimaced slightly as the next attack seemed to cut through him,
into him, slice his soul apart with his mind. The moon was still in the
sky. It was hours till dawn.

I won't let you hurt yourself, Inuyasha, he thought. Never.
* * *
The full moon rose to its highest point this night, then began its descent
once more. A few clouds dotted the night sky, passing over the yellow-white
moon.

As the moon phase neared its final stage, the barriers around the mouth
of the cave began to weaken. The demon trapped inside howled as the first
holes appeared, clawed hands lashing for the figure sitting just inside
the cave. Miroku showed no sign of hearing the howls or the promises of
a slow and painful death, he didn't listen to the ugly names Inuyasha still
called him. He might be sleeping, meditating, and except for the deathly
pallor and the soaked left sleeve he looked almost peaceful.

And then the barrier broke.

The demon screamed its victory, clawed hands curled for slashing into
the fragile human form. Miroku was defenseless, completely exhausted, and
when those deep violet eyes opened, they didn't seem to take in much. A
sad sigh escaped the white lips, then the monk crumbled in on himself.

And the moon finally set.
*
He didn't know where he was or how he had come here. He didn't know
why he was standing in the mouth of a cave, at the edge of the forest they
had traveled through the last few days. He didn't know�

-- why Miroku lay at his feet.

"Miroku?"

Blood. He smelled blood. Sharp, metallic, fresh� a lot of it. Coming
from the unconscious monk.

"Miroku!"

And from his own hands�

Inuyasha sank to his knees and rolled the slender man onto his back,
then almost jumped back. The dark purple kimono was literally soaked in
blood. The left sleeve was shredded, haphazardly bound together to try
and stem the blood flow, and it was caked with the vital fluid. Miroku's
face was ashen, his eyes closed, and there was barely a pulse visible at
the slender neck. His breathing was labored and each breath sounded like
it could be the last; weaker and weaker.

"No�" Inuyasha whispered. "No�"

Trembling fingers tried to determine the seriousness of the wound.
As he lifted what he could of the crusted and sticky sleeve, his stomach
turned into a knot of foreboding knowledge � until it clenched in realization.
Deep gouges had torn the flesh, right down to the bone, and he knew what
could do such terrible harm.

Demon claws.

His claws.

Blood was clinging to them and it didn't come from touching the injury.

"No� nonono!!" he screamed the last word, shaking his head in denial.

He couldn't have�. He hadn't�!

But Miroku bore the evidence of his demon side, his unleashed fury
and evil.

Shaking with fear and horror, he quickly picked up the other man and
looked around. He needed help. A healer. Anyone with medical knowledge,
with healing powers.

Inuyasha bit his lower lip, then remembered the village they had come
through days ago. There had been a healer, an old woman who had looked
so strangely at him. He needed her help and he would do anything, anything
at all, to get it.
*
His strength was waning. The weight of Miroku felt like it had increased
a tenfold. Blood clung to his clothes, was the only smell lodged in his
nose. Inuyasha gathered his last energy reserves and cleared the final
line of trees, standing in front of the small village they had passed through.
It consisted of five houses and there were mainly women and children, with
two men, as well as the old woman. Miroku had blessed their small shrine,
a sad excuse for a real one, and they had given them food.

Now they stood staring at him, the children hiding behind their mothers,
and the men looked warily at him. Inuyasha made his way to the house of
the healer woman, then stopped, muscles quivering. He felt blood run over
his hands, heard every raspy breath from the man in his arms.

The old woman stood on the porch of her home, the crinkled features
neutral, the eyes taking in the half-demon and his precious cargo, and
Inuyasha gathered everything inside him to speak the next words as the
world started to white-out at the edge of his vision.

"Please, help him�"

The sharp eyes met his yellow ones. "What is it to you?" she asked,
the voice strong.

Inuyasha licked his lips. "Everything," he whispered. "Whatever you
demand, I'll do it. Please."

His legs quivered more, but he hung on to the limp body, willed life
into the soul that had held out against a demonic attack. He wouldn't disgrace
himself by collapsing in front of this woman.

The woman healer gazed silently at him, then she nodded at the two
men who had kept silent guard behind the new-arrival. Inuyasha moved back
as they came closer, crouching a little, feeling his body tremble more.
No one would take Miroku from him. No one! A warning growl left his lips
and his ears lay back.

The healer chuckled. "Still fight left in you, young one?"

He glared at her, his back now to one of the wooden posts of the porch.
He was glad for the support, but he couldn't fight anyone with the unconscious
body in his arms, and Inuyasha wouldn't put him down. Miroku's life depended
on him.

"Bring him inside so I can look at his wounds."

Carefully, keeping an eye on the two men, he followed the invitation,
stepping through the entrance into the hut, the precious cargo in his arms
heavier and heavier.

The healer pointed at a mat on the floor. "Put him there."

Inuyasha knelt down, arms shaking as he laid Miroku onto the clean
mattress. His vision had started to blur and his trembling grew worse.
Those sharp eyes looked at him again and suddenly the feature softened
slightly.

"You are safe," the healer whispered. "You can let go now. I will help
him."

As if those words had flipped a coin inside him, Inuyasha felt the
world darken and he slid into unconsciousness.
* * *
The world snapped back into place from one second to the next. There
was no phase of disorientation, no slow waking-up, just the sudden awareness
of everything around him. A hard floor underneath him, covered by a mat,
the sharp smell of herbs mixed with old blood and new, interlaced with
pain, and the air was heavy with a tangy smell that he had never sensed
anywhere before.

Yellow eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly. His body protested
the moves as priory exhausted muscles were just coming back into action,
coiling, ready to spring.

Inuyasha gazed around the hut he was in, noted the fire dancing merrily
in the fireplace, the assorted pots and cups everywhere on the floor, and
his nose crinkled as the strange, tangy smell intensified.

A voice murmured softly and he caught movement, his head snapping around.
It was the healer whose name he still didn't know. She was bent over the
still form of Miroku, her fingers smearing something over his left arm.
Inuyasha's ears lay back flat against his head, he briefly bared his teeth,
and his claws wanted to dig into the hardwood floor � which was preferable
to digging them into this woman.

-- who dared to touch Miroku.

He froze, blinked at the thoughts and emotions rising unbidden inside
him, and forced himself to relax.

She was helping his friend; no need to be� what? Angry? No, it was
something else. Watching the wrinkled hands glide over the smooth skin
suffused him with� jealously?

Inuyasha bit down hard on that emotion and pushed it away, but his
eyes were drawn to the free expanse of smooth, muscular chest, the slender
neck, then they traveled down what could be seen of the flat stomach.

Suddenly the healer turned and looked at him.

"This is your doing?" she asked without a greeting.

Inuyasha couldn't meet her eyes, as much as he felt the defiance rise
inside him. Those four words had shattered what emotions had risen inside
him and had brought back the events of the last night with a clarity he
had hoped to never achieve. He might not be able to remember every detail,
but he remembered enough, especially the blood rage, the desire to gouge
and kill and dismember.

He just stared at the floor, his long hair almost acting like a veil
around him as he nodded slowly.

"You injured him gravely, hanyou."

As if he didn't know it! His clothes were still flecked with blood,
it clung to his hands and claws, to his very skin. He could taste it, smell
it� feel it everywhere. The blood of the one person he had let closer than
anyone ever before.

He just nodded again.

"His life force is weak. He lost a lot of blood. The healing powers
can close the wounds, but there will be marks. Wounds inflicted by demons
always leave marks."

Inuyasha swallowed heavily.

"As they left marks on you."

He raised his head, staring at the old healer. "I wasn't injured,"
he whispered, voice rough and shaky.

"Oh yes, you were, Inuyasha. Your wounds might not be physical, they
might not be on the outside, but they are there. And they will leave scars,
like there will be scars on Miroku's skin."

How did she know his name? They had never talked; she hadn't been there
when Miroku had blessed their shrine. The woman had kept back, just watching.

He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, his eyes
drawn involuntarily to the thickly bandaged limb. His gaze traveled up
the lithe, muscular body, then averted as he arrived at the pale, almost
gray face.

He had to go.

"You are part of the healing process, Inuyasha. You must stay."

He shook his head. "I inflicted these injuries."

"And you will heal them." The healer rose and opened the door. "You
will not leave. This place is barred from demonic intrusion. No demonic
blood shall enter or leave until the healing process is over."

And with that the door was pulled shut, closing him and Miroku in.
Inuyasha stared at the door, then felt anger rise briefly. He growled and
walked toward the door, only to be repelled. Surprise shot through him
and he tried it again, with the same result.

He was locked in.

With Miroku.

No demonic blood shall enter or leave.

"Wonderful," he muttered and sank to the ground again.

His eyes strayed to Miroku. He gazed at the still form for a long time,
then almost hesitantly came closer until he crouched next to him.

Hair hung into the smooth forehead and Inuyasha reached out to comb
it back, then stopped.

His claws

Claws.

Claws that had injured Miroku.

Inuyasha shuddered and pulled back his hand, clutching it with his
other.

He had hurt Miroku with those claws.

There was still blood on them, on his clothes� and he almost ripped
the red kimono off himself. Dressed in his undergarments he sank to the
ground, shivering � but it wasn't because of any physical cold.
* * *
His body hurt; his mind hurt.

Fragments of memories came back, stabbing at his injured mind and soul,
reminding him of what had happened.

Inuyasha. No � the demon. The barrier.

Something poked and stabbed and he fought not to fight against the
pain.

There was a haze about him he couldn't push free of.

He was so tired...

Terrible wounds in his arm, blood leaking with every heartbeat. He
was dying, and still he upheld the barrier.

Protect him.

He was spinning, weightless and formless, slipping from his ties.

The burning sharpness in his arm was replaced with numbness, silence
descending.

A soft voice reached his ears, murmuring what sounded like incantations.

And he slipped into the darkness again.
* * *
Inuyasha looked down at the form of his friend � a friend he had slept
with, a little voice in his head whispered, a friend he would have killed
in his demonic rage without even so much as blinking. He shuddered when
he thought about that full moon night when he had fought against Miroku�s
barrier in a blind fury, infuriated even further by the scent of fresh
blood, blood he had spilled. Miroku had kept his barrier up despite his
severe injury, had kept the enraged demon at bay so he wouldn�t hurt anybody
else, not his friends and not even himself, and it could have cost him
his life easily.

Miroku started to tremble, freezing because of the amount of blood
loss. Inuyasha reached for the blanket to tuck it closer around the lithe
body, a body he had gotten to know well in the past few months � but never
touched, not really. Sure, he had taken his pleasure from the other man,
had given some in return, but not � really. He had stroked the monk into
completion, sure, but he hadn�t been gentle. Not brutal either, but never
tender.

He had never kissed Miroku.

Or held him afterwards. Nor allowed the other man to hold him, though�
Inuyasha closed his eyes when the thought hit � he had wanted to. The hanyou
groaned inwardly as he realized, maybe for the first time, what he had
done to Miroku. How he had treated a man who had always been honest to
him and open. He had used Miroku�s body and had treated his friend like
a saseko, a whore. But he hadn�t even bothered to offer something in return.
Remorse welled up in him, and he froze. Why by the seven hells did he care
what a ningen felt? Why did he care for a mere human at all?

Because throughout the time he had traveled with Kagome, Sango, Shippo
and Miroku he had learned to care. He worried, he had formed friendships,
he had begun to feel more than just annoyed acceptance of their daily presence.
He had expected to feel more for Kagome, but instead� something had happened.

Miroku had happened. The conniving monk had wormed his way into Inuyasha's
mind, body and soul. He had come in under the radar, completely unexpected,
and the hanyou had had no defense against him. Inuyasha looked at the pale,
slightly sweaty face. So handsome, so gentle, so�

He swallowed hard.

Miroku still shivered and suddenly stirred, violet eyes blinking open
slowly, still unfocused, and the hanyou froze.

�Inuyasha?�

�Yes.�

��m cold� So cold��

�I�ll place your blankets a little closer to the fireplace. That should
help.�

Inuyasha didn�t need much strength to pull the blankets with Miroku
on them as close to the fire as he dared without risking them to ignite
and injuring Miroku even further. He was about to turn away when suddenly
Miroku�s hand shot forward, fingers closing around his wrist. Hazy, violet
eyes focused on him for a second, and Inuyasha felt himself freeze, rooted
to the spot by the depths he saw in them, emotions Miroku usually seemed
to hide very well, but now, injured and weak �

�Please � �

It wasn�t more than a whisper but it had a much stronger effect on
him than a yelled �sit� from Kagome. Miroku had closed his eyes again and
seemed to slide back into a much needed sleep, but his fingers were still
cold around Inuyasha�s wrist, and he wouldn�t let go, so�

Inuyasha sighed and carefully lifted the blankets, slipping under them
as cautiously as he could not to disturb the sick man. He froze when he
felt Miroku sigh in so much contentment he had never heard from the monk
before, pulling him even closer, placing the hanyou's hand on his naked
stomach. The feeling of the soft skin under his fingers made Inuyasha groan
again when some part of him announced an increasing interest in intensifying
that touch � gods, not now of all times! But when he tried to pull back
a little Miroku stirred, sliding deeper into his arms and sighed.

��tis �kay, Inuyasha. That�s normal � �

Okay? It was okay?!

No, it wasn't!

Inuyasha felt a growl rise, but he swallowed it. Miroku was weak, injured,
almost asleep again, and all the half-demon felt was� lust?

"It's a natural reaction," Miroku whispered, smiling a little as he
looked at Inuyasha through half-lidded eyes. "Normal."

And why did he sound so matter-of-fact about it? Like they were discussing
the flow of the river or the cycle of the seasons. Inuyasha gazed down
at the man, confused and amazed in one. The hand holding his rubbed a thumb
over the back of his hand. He felt the prayer beads against his skin, each
and every single one. He could sense the softness of the cloth covering
the kazaana, and the even softer, warm skin of the vulnerable stomach.
His claws rested against that skin�

So easy to harm. To tear apart.

He tensed and tried to pull away again, but he couldn't. At least not
while Miroku held on to him. Not without harming him.

"Stay, please," Miroku almost pleaded, voice trailing off as he neared
sleep.

Stay.

Inuyasha fought with himself, then finally relaxed against the other's
body, pillowing his head on the slender shoulder. He saw the slight smile
again, heard the soft breaths as Miroku fell asleep, and somehow, magically,
he followed him there.
* * *
He woke up to a situation he had hoped he could circumvent. His body
wrapped around the healing one of the monk, one leg thrown over Miroku's,
Inuyasha became uncomfortably aware of the straining hardness simultaneously
pressed against it. Holding his breath he tried to disentangle himself
from the other body, but he had little luck.

Dark violet eyes opened and Miroku suddenly smiled. Inuyasha couldn't
but hold that gaze, felt emotions well up inside of him he didn't really
want to acknowledge. Time seemed to have no meaning as they looked at each
other, and without conscious thought he bent forward, bringing their lips
together, the kiss full of tender affection. At the contact, his brain
kicked back in again, but it was already too late. It was like a shock,
feeling those pliable lips respond to the contact, and his own desires
rose up several notches. The intimate contact shot fire through him, made
him want to melt against his companion, made him want to� do a lot of things.
His hips bucked involuntarily and he groaned softly.

Inuyasha pulled back, breathing hard, staring at the pale face, feeling
the hammering of his own heart. The spell was dissolving but for the moment,
it was the most intoxicating feeling he had ever experienced. His face
flushed and he drew back further, wide-eyed, shaking his head.

"Inuyasha," Miroku murmured.

His right hand rubbed up one thigh toward where his morning hardness
was straining for release, and Inuyasha gave a strangled gasp, moving away.

"No!"

How could Miroku, in his weak state, think about pleasuring him? How
could he believe Inuyasha expected it? How?!

Because you never showed him he was worth anything more than a toy,
a nasty voice whispered inside of him. You used him like a whore, but you
never even paid him for his services. What else do you think he believes
he has to do now?

Wide, violet eyes gazed at him, surprise registering deep inside.

"No?" Miroku echoed, confused.

"I don't need you!" Inuyasha spat, hunkering down, clawed hands digging
into the floor. "I don't!"

And those eyes shuttered. "I see," was the only reply.

So simple, Miroku thought as he looked at the half-demon. Just one word
and it was all over before it had even begun. He had thought they were
going somewhere, approaching an understanding of what was between them,
but now all of that had been shattered.

He had been a tool, he realized. More than he would have believed.
Now he had been rejected as even that.

Closing his eyes he sighed silently. He was still tired, but no longer
as hazy and exhausted as the day before. His left arm felt heavy, but there
was little pain. Just an uncomfortable feeling of soreness. From the smell
of the place, he was in a healer's home.

"I'm sorry."

The words reached his ears and he turned his head, surprised. Inuyasha?
Apologizing. He knew for a fact that the half-demon had a problem with
confessing to a weakness, to a wrong he had done, and apologizing wasn't
his strongest trait. Actually, he had messed up in that department with
Kagome several times.

"Don't be. It's okay," the monk answered.

No need to embarrass him any further. It was truly over. A short affair
to take the edge off. Well, if he had been of service, good. At least he
had been able to touch and feel the hands of the hanyou on him, even if
it hadn't been more than a fleeting contact.

Golden eyes snapped up, glaring at him. "Okay?" Inuyasha growled. "Okay?!"

"It was a way of release, Inuyasha. I can accept that," Miroku answered
calmly.

And he could.

Inuyasha stared at him, incredulous. "You like to be used?" he demanded.

Miroku remained silent.

"I used you!" Inuyasha raged. "Your body! Like a whore! And you let
me! Why?"

He closed his eyes briefly, then met the enraged gaze. "Because we
proceeded at a pace you were comfortable with."

"This is about you, too!"

He blinked. Of course it had been about him, too, but why did it sound
like Inuyasha�?

"I got my own pleasure from it," Miroku told him.

Inuyasha came closer, shaking his head. "No. You got nothing but a
fuck. You touched me, I never touched you in return."

"Inuyasha� please. Leave it be. It's over and we should let it rest."

Those golden eyes widened. "Over?" It came out as almost a gasp. "No!"

Now he was even more confused. "You� you don't want it to be?"

"No!" came the blurted denial. "Why did you think� I mean� because
I didn't let you bring me to release just now?!"

A nod.

"You're injured!" Inuyasha argued, ears twitching in obvious emotional
upheaval.

"You needed me."

That drew a sharp intake of breath. "I'd never use you like this,"
Inuyasha whispered, then winced. "But I have."

Miroku pushed himself up, almost falling back as his body, still weak
from blood loss, trembled. At least he managed to sit up without embarrassing
himself.

"Inuyasha," he called softly, holding out a hand.

The hanyou regarded him with a mixture of fear and need, drawn to his
injury but also afraid to hurt him again.

"Inuyasha," he repeated.

The voice was smooth like honey, intoxicating, deep and so full of need.
And those eyes� Had he ever noticed their depths? How many emotions they
held?

Miroku cupped one smooth cheek and tugged him even closer. There was
no resistance as their lips met and the dark-haired man flicked his tongue
over them, drawing a wide-eyed gasp. And then that tongue touched his mouth
again, sliding inside, and he almost automatically met it with his. A hand
carded into his hair, holding him close, caressing him. Inuyasha sank forward
a little, his own arms coming around the slender form, felt the tremors
of muscles that still needed to rest, and he pulled Miroku closer � just
to hold him.

They separated and their foreheads rested against each other, Miroku
breathing harder than before. Inuyasha felt the unabated hardness between
his legs burn with need, but he tried to push it away. He couldn't use
his lover like this.

Miroku's right hand glided over his crotch again.

"No," Inuyasha protested softly.

"You're not using me," the monk said tenderly. "I'm willing to help
you. You can make it up to me later." There was a mischievous sparkle in
his eyes.

Inuyasha snorted, amusement replacing the fear, then he groaned as
the beads-wrapped hand rubbed over his arousal, the cloth of his underwear
making the contact even more erotic.

It didn't take much. He was coiled so tightly, the moment Miroku's
hand slipped inside and touched him, massaging him to completion, he cried
out in release.

They both sank down onto the floor, Miroku cradling him against his
chest, stroking over the white hair in a soothing pattern. Fingers toyed
with his ears, exploring their silky fur, and he smiled a little, enjoying
the sensation. Inuyasha held on to the slender form, inhaling the scent
of the naked skin, enjoying the texture of it under his hands. He knew
he had to clean himself, wash the stained clothing that still reeked of
blood and now of his release, but all he managed was to shed the undergarments
and throw them on the kimono pile near the door.

Naked, pressed against his lover, Inuyasha let out a content sigh.
The blanket covered them like a protective cocoon, and just listening the
rhythm of Miroku's heart lulled him into relaxation.
* * *
The door opening drew him out of his slumber, instantly alert, ears
pricked and he bared his teeth as the healer entered the room. Curled around
Miroku, Inuyasha tensed, claws at the ready, but the hard eyes just met
his angry gaze calmly. Naked, vulnerable, needing to protect his lover,
Inuyasha waited for what was to come.

"It has begun," the old woman just said and placed a clay pot on the
low table. "You will need to eat. Both of you."

He growled softly as she came closer, still not moving. It was bad
enough that she saw him without clothes; he wouldn't shame himself further
by exposing himself completely.

The healer smiled slightly. "I'm not here to harm or judge, hanyou.
Let me see to his wounds."

Inuyasha nodded briskly, golden eyes fixed on every move she made.
The healer unwrapped the bandages and for the first time he saw the damage
he had done. He moved back instinctively from the prominent scarring, hissing,
but the need to stay with Miroku made him freeze.

His lover stirred slightly and dark eyes cracked open. Miroku gazed
at him, then turned his head to look at the woman treating his arm, smearing
some kind of herbal salve on the healing scars.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Her gaze was suddenly very soft and she nodded once. Miroku sighed
and turned his eyes back to Inuyasha, smiling. The fingers of his right
hand tightened on the hand he was holding, still lying on his stomach.
No words were lost and Inuyasha was drawn between watching the woman and
just looking at the injured man.

Bandages were wrapped around the angry marks, hiding them from his
guilty eyes.

"The flesh is healing, the skin will bear the marks," the woman said
calmly. "You will be sore for a while, Miroku," she addressed the prone
man. "Sleep, rest, and heal. Time is of no meaning here."

With that she rose and left, picking up the soiled clothes next to
the door. Inuyasha made a noise of protest but her gaze stopped him.

"I will clean those for you. You'll get them back, hanyou, don't worry."

And with it she was gone.
* * *
Time passed. It seemed like hours turned into days, but to Inuyasha
each moment with his lover was cherished. The house of the healer was larger
than it had first appeared. There wasn't just this one room where Miroku
spent the first three days more asleep than awake. There was a bathing
chamber, a small side room, and what seemed like a shrine to a god or goddess
Inuyasha didn't know.

They used the bathing room daily. At first it had been a precarious
trip for the still weak Miroku to walk into the next room, but determination
and stubbornness made up for the weakened muscles. Bathing and cleaning
themselves was non-erotic in that time. It was just another task and while
Inuyasha enjoyed touching his lover, there were no thoughts of doing anything
but getting rid of the sweat and grime.

That changed slowly after Miroku finally fell into a normal rhythm
of eating and sleeping. The healer, whose name was Aiko as she had told
them when Miroku had asked, paid them daily visits, checking on the scarred
arm, going through exercises with her patient to keep the scars from stiffening.
Each time the unwrapped arm was in plain sight, guilt rose like a tidal
wave inside the young hanyou.

His claws.

His doing.

And dark eyes always met his, the soft expression chasing away the
darker thoughts. Miroku didn't blame him.

They had talked little about his change and the attack; it had happened
and they both had survived.

"Our friends will be worried about us," Miroku remarked as Aiko moved
his wrist gently, and he grimaced briefly at the pain it elicited.

"Time is of no meaning to you," was the calm reply.

"You said so already," Inuyasha grumbled.

The sharp eyes pinned him and almost automatically his ears flattened.
A low growl rumbled in his chest. Miroku's right hand closed around his
wrist and their eyes met. No words passed, but Inuyasha stood down, though
he didn't relax out of his crouched stance.

"What do you mean by this?" Miroku asked the healer matter-of-factly
without letting go of the hanyou.

"You live in another time," the woman replied. "For as long as it takes,
you will be here."

Inuyasha gaped, but Miroku just nodded.

"I understand and we have to thank you."

She inclined her head, accepting the words. "You need to heal. You
will be able to leave this place tomorrow, but not the village."

Miroku flexed the still lightly bandaged hand, wincing briefly as scarred
flesh pulled at smooth skin. Aiko rose and made her usual, silent exit,
the door sealing them in again.

"She trapped us in a spell," Inuyasha snarled. "We're prisoners in
their village!"

"No, she gave us a chance."

Miroku released the captured wrist and rose slowly, still not as limber
as he used to be.

"Let's eat."

Inuyasha watched him walk over to the table and lower himself onto
the mat, right hand reaching for the pot the old woman had brought. He
could smell the food from here and he knew it would be good. All her dishes
had been so far.

He joined the monk, silently watching how he struggled to use his left
hand, noticing the grimace of pain when the plate became too heavy for
the healing muscles.

His doing.

His fault.

"Inuyasha," came the gentle whisper.

He met the violet eyes.

"Eat."

And he did.
* * *
In the following days, the two men left the hut and started to explore
their new home. Miroku wasn't really surprised to discover time stones
placed in the fields around the village. He hadn't seen them when they
had first passed through, but now they were no longer hidden. Each stone
was a marker, a barrier for them, keeping time inside different from the
pace of time outside.

The people seemed to be indifferent to the changes brought upon them
by Aiko. Miroku suspected she was far more than a healer anyway. Her spiritual
powers surpassed that of a mere miko, too.

Inuyasha had started to take their imprisonment better with each passing
day. At first he had been grumpy and rude, insulting whoever said a wrong
word or even looked at him the wrong way. By now he was befriending the
curious children, who had never seen a hanyou like him, and Miroku watched
it with a faint smile on his lips.

Their own relationship was taking larger steps now. There were moments
spent together somewhere in the fields, just sitting with each other, arms
wrapped around the other, enjoying the closeness. Miroku savored them.
His own strength was slowly returning, but it took time.

Time, which they had.

The bathing room was half the size of the main chamber that they slept
and ate in. There was a large tub, big enough for two, and it could be
easily filled with hot water. The system was ingenious and Miroku had to
give it to the old woman � it worked. There were hot springs close by and
the hot water would flow down a large bamboo pipe into the tub. A simple
wooden lock allowed to regulate the amount of water coming in.

Currently, the tub was full and Miroku relaxed back into the warmth,
letting it suffuse his muscles, turn them into jelly. He had unwrapped
his injury to keep the bandages from getting wet. It was enough that those
covering his kazaana would be dripping later on. Closing his eyes, he breathed
in slowly, exhaling just the like.

A sound alerted him to the approach of his companion and violet eyes
cracked open, watching the hanyou enter the bathing room. Clothes slid
carelessly to the ground as Inuyasha shed his simple, beige kimono. His
fire rat one was still being cleaned by the healer � or whatever. Miroku
himself was wearing a simple black version of his own wear. His clothes
were probably shredded and beyond repair.

Lithe steps led his silver-haired lover to the edge of the tub and
he descended the few steps to the bottom with the same grace he did everything
else. No word was spoken as amber eyes regarded him, then fell on his injury.

Miroku had seen the guilt in those beloved depths several times since
he had been coherent enough to be aware of his surroundings, and each time
he wished he could make the scars disappear. As it was, they would stay
as a reminder.

Inuyasha reached out, clawed finger touching his left hand, and he
held still, letting the hanyou explore the healing flesh. Tender fingers
stroked over the angry, red scars, followed their jagged path over his
wrist, forearm and to the elbow. Miroku touched him with his wrapped hand,
holding the pained gaze. Then he entwined their hands, his left with Inuyasha's
right, pulling him close.

Lips met in an almost desperate kiss. Inuyasha sank against him, straddling
his lap. The hanyou trailed kisses over his lips, up the jaw line and finally
tongued the two earrings, drawing a startled gasp from Miroku. Teeth tugged
briefly at the tiny pieces of metal, as clawed fingers threaded into his
hair, unbound and open, falling in wet strands to his shoulders. Then the
silver head buried against him once more.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

"There's nothing to forgive."

He played with one pointed ear as Inuyasha rested his head against
his chest. They stayed like this until the water was almost too cold for
Miroku's liking. He started to shiver and Inuyasha pulled back. Amber eyes
regarded him.

"You need to keep warm," he said softly and rose, holding out his hand.

Inuyasha helped his lover down onto the mattress. Miroku's dark hair
was still damp, his skin flushed with warmth from their bath and maybe
something else.

He felt so many emotions, all bottled up inside of him, all seeking
an outlet. He cupped the still too pale face, gazing into eyes that were
open and so easily readable now. No masks, no shields, no pretense. Here,
in this hut, he was looking at the real Miroku. The man who held so many
emotions as well.

Mate, he thought, startling himself.

His mate. A human. A very lethal human, but a human nonetheless. Fragile
and weak�

No!

Inuyasha clamped down on those thoughts. Miroku was far from weak or
fragile. He was a warrior.

He bent down and kissed the warm lips, delighting in their response.
They lay down together, snuggling close to the fire, until Miroku dozed
off. Inuyasha just sat there, cross-legged, guarding and watching.
* * *
Their 'imprisonment' became a time of discovery and growing understanding
on Inuyasha's part. Not just on a sexual side, where he explored his lover's
body in a way he had never dreamed of before, but also on a personal relationship
base. There were so many layers to each man's personality and now they
had the time and the peace to explore them all. There was no enemy to fight,
no journey to continue, no secret to keep from their friends. In here,
it was just them.

And, of course, the healer. Aiko never lost a word about their closeness,
but she seemed to encourage it. She knew and accepted, which was more than
Inuyasha had ever hoped to find in a human. Normally humans were openly
wary and hostile of those who chose a youkai or hanyou lover.

Inuyasha stole a glance at the slender figure standing near the fire,
dressed in only a pair of pants, bare footed, his left arm cradled against
his bare stomach and chest. He liked the sight of the bare flesh, usually
hidden under the black and purple kimono. In here, there were no barriers,
no offended eyes. It was just them and how they were comfortable showing
themselves.

Miroku had eaten more than he had expected today and the healer was
rather pleased with him, though she had refused to lift the barrier around
the hut. Inuyasha was still unable to leave and Miroku made no moves to
pass through the shield that would allow only humans through.

Joining his lover at the fire, Inuyasha met the deep, violet eyes,
black in the shadows of the flames, and clawed fingers cupped one pale
cheek without thinking. Miroku leaned into the caress, smiling. Their lips
met briefly and Inuyasha slid an arm around the narrow waist, felt the
heavier weight of the bound arm coming to rest against his own bareness.
He was vulnerable here, without his fire rat kimono, relying on the truth
of the barrier, that it would keep his enemies out, but Miroku was even
more at anyone's mercy. He might be able to sit and stand, but he was a
far cry from ready for any kind of battle. Inuyasha was hard in taking
punishment. He had battled the worst and while he had bled and carried
deep wounds or broken bones, a human would have been died. He was a hanyou,
a very strong one, and even without the protection of the kimono he could
fight whatever came his way.

A soft moan echoed in the silent room and Inuyasha smiled against Miroku's
lips. His lover looked at him, right hand buried in the heavy locks of
silvery hair, fingertips gently grazing his sensitive ears. Inuyasha shivered
slightly at the tingling sensation, letting his hands trail down the muscular
back, cupping the firm butt cheeks, pulling him even closer. He knew Miroku
wasn't up to any kind of coupling, but he wanted his nearness, needed him
to be so close, feel his every heartbeat and breath, every pulse of life.
Burying his head against the slender neck, he inhaled the scent of the
healing man, now free of blood and pain, only hampered by the soreness
in his left arm.

Inuyasha nibbled slightly at the fragile skin, grazing it with his
canines, and it drew a soft gasp. He bit lightly and the hand in his hair
clenched briefly.

"Inuyasha," Miroku moaned.

He did it again, drawing a sharper reply. Raising his head, golden
eyes glowing, the half-demon smiled as he read the arousal in his lover's
eyes and scent. He pulled him onto the mat with him, pushed him onto his
back, running a feather-light caress over the bandages as he raised the
arm to kiss the unbound fingers. Miroku's eyes widened at the sensuous
contact, then closed as Inuyasha kissed his lips, demanding entry with
his tongue. Within this 'prison' they had made up for months of no kissing,
no tender contact, and Inuyasha was determined to let his lover feel what
he felt, what he experienced. He might not be good with words and expressing
himself, but there were other ways.

Miroku relaxed under his ministrations as sharp claws were used to
tease and torment, never breaking the skin, never coming close to being
dangerous, and he cried out as sensitive nipples were attended thoroughly.
His lover�s skin felt soft and warm under his palm and he splayed his fingers,
stroking over warm flesh, running his fingertips over a hardening nipple.
Miroku�s breathing hitched and a whiff of increasing arousal reached the
hanyou�s sensitive nose. Watching his lover he repeated the caress, more
firmly this time, remembering only too well how it had felt for him when
Miroku had teased him there. He stroked up and down the beautiful body.
Miroku groaned and shifted under his light touch, pushing and seeking a
firmer one.

Inuyasha smiled and undid the bindings of the pants, freeing Miroku's
hardness, trailing soft patterns against the arousal, taking his time.
He wanted to make it good for Miroku, wanted to make him feel cherished
� and he wanted to watch, wanted to see what effect his caresses would
have on the other man. Miroku hat touched him so often in the past, had
given him pleasure, and it was time to give some of it back, no skip that
� lots of it. A moan turned into a whimper as he used what he had learned
from his lover, as he applied not only his hands but also his mouth, ever-so-careful
of his canines. The additional stimulation seemed to have an effect, though.

Miroku, who to his utter surprise had turned out to be very vocal and
passionate, gave a cry of need, bucking into the hot, wet mouth. Inuyasha
pushed the erratically moving hips firmly onto the ground.

"Koishii, please," came the hoarse pleading.

Inuyasha started at the unexpected endearment. He pulled back, suddenly
insecure, but Miroku just smiled at him, dark eyes whirling with need,
and the hanyou was lost. He couldn�t help himself � he bent down and brushed
his lips over Miroku�s before returning to his previous task, smiling when
he heard Miroku moan almost desperately as he licked at his prize, drawing
a loud cry once again. Careful of his claws, he teased sensitive areas,
drawing lazy patterns around Miroku's opening without entering.

"Need you," Miroku whispered.

He wouldn't take him. Not tonight, Inuyasha decided. His lover wasn't
up for that kind of exertion, and so he just crawled over his body, pushing
his own arousal against Miroku's, eliciting a sweet moan. Kissing the pliable
lips, he moved his hips slowly, delighting with the friction. Inuyasha
curled one hand over their combined hardness, looked into the beloved eyes,
and lost himself in the heady smell of need, sex and lust, of love and
belonging.

Their climax came like a tidal wave.

Miroku moaned, then gasped. His body arched under him, pushing them
closer together.

"Love you," the dark-haired man whimpered.

Inuyasha bit back a howl, eyes screwed shut, gasping harshly, and for
a moment there was nothing but the rush of blood through his ears, his
wildly hammering heart, and the scent of their combined liquids.

Inuyasha felt a strong hand caress him and he opened his eyes. He lay
on top of his lover, head buried into the junction of Miroku's neck and
shoulder, still breathing harder than normal. Blunt, human teeth gently
bit the dog ear closest to them and Inuyasha started. He raised himself,
looking at the man underneath him, seeing nothing but lazy satisfaction.
He smiled affectionately and caressed the relaxed face, tracing the handsome
features with a light touch. His left ear still tingled with the gentle
bite, sending electric shivers through him.

He cleaned them both with a towel, then snuggled close to Miroku again,
sighing contentedly against the warm skin.

"I love you," he whispered.

Miroku's eyes widened almost comically, and suddenly Inuyasha froze,
realizing what he had said. Miroku pulled his face close, and he looked
into those strangely violet eyes which held an unreadable expression at
the moment.

��koishii� � he whispered hoarsely.

The kiss was long and sweet � but to Inuyasha there was a strange undertone
of bitterness in it.
* * *
Miroku patiently watched Aiko apply the herbal salve to his scars while
Inuyasha sat close by, sharp eyes keeping track of each movement the old
woman made.

"May I ask you something?" Miroku broke the silence.

Her eyes flicked up, then she nodded.

"Why did you help us?"

"I don't turn down those in true need."

Inuyasha tilted his head but kept his silence.

"You weren't very� open when we passed through earlier."

"I don't trust a youkai or hanyou," was the level answer and Inuyasha's
ears flattened. "I share that emotion with Tukio, but I don't approve of
his methods."

Miroku stiffened and Inuyasha's claws dug into the ground.

"You know that old man?" he demanded.

"Yes, I know him. We grew up together. I left the village to come here
with my husband," the healer explained calmly. "He's a powerful priest,
but he lost all restraint after a youkai destroyed his face and took his
family's lives."

Miroku paled. "Sesshoumaru?"

"Yes, the youkai. His hatred of all youkai grew exponentially and he
erased them wherever he met one, good and evil alike." Her eyes fell on
Inuyasha. "He wanted to erase all traces of their existence, which also
meant their children born of human mothers or fathered by humans."

Inuyasha hissed angrily, coiling again. Miroku reached out and touched
the tense hanyou. "Koishii�"

The word of endearment had a startling effect. Amber eyes snapped to
look at him, widening in surprise. The ears twitched upright.

"I don't approve of it," Aiko repeated. "We are all creatures on the
same earth. Good and bad. He has no right to judge without knowing. You,
hanyou, are of the youkai's family tree that took his face. That's why
he cursed you."

She tied a loose knot and placed Miroku's arm on his lap.

"The curse has been lifted. You spilled the blood of your mate and
it broke the curse. Otherwise you would have continued to change at every
full moon."

She rose.

Inuyasha gaped at her. "I'm free of it?"

"Yes. You are again what you were. Only one moon phase will forever
be your curse."

And then she was gone, leaving a startled Inuyasha behind.
* * *
Miroku's face was a mask of concentration as he stood in the middle
of the field, his staff in his left hand, laboriously going through motions
that had been easy and fluent before. The staff was a deadly weapon, could
slice into living flesh at his will and do a lot of harm, but right now
it looked more like he was learning how to handle it anew.

Inuyasha leaned against tree, smirking slightly. Miroku looked rather
fed-up, frustrated, and somehow it was a far cry from his so assured self
he portrayed to the others. So much had been revealed to the hanyou regarding
this special human in his life. Like just how human Miroku could be; how
much was just a façade.

The staff clattered to the ground and he couldn't help but grunt in
amusement. Violet eyes flared.

"You keep out of it!"

"You seem to be no better than a child, monk."

Yes, it had been his fault. He had inflicted those terrible wounds.
He was to blame for the weakened arm and the disfiguring scars, but for
just a moment the old Inuyasha had surfaced. The teasing, sarcastic one.
Still, it was only a façade. It was an attempt to lighten the mood
with no harm intended.

Miroku's brows dipped and suddenly he whirled around, swinging the
staff in a low arc. Inuyasha was too stunned to react as his legs were
kicked out under him and he landed flat on his back. Before he had a chance
to get up, the weight of the human on him pinned him down. His wrists were
grabbed and pushed to the ground left and right of his head.

Dark eyes laughed at him and Miroku smirked. "You were saying, great
hanyou?"

Inuyasha hissed softly, but instead of aggression and battle rage,
there was something else there. Something so much softer, so very emotional�

Hips moved against his and he felt himself harden almost instantly
as Miroku seductively leaned forward, bringing his body in full contact
with Inuyasha's. Oh so slowly those familiar lips came nearer his own,
then ghosted over his mouth.

Teasing.

Teeth nibbling briefly.

Inuyasha moaned, his hips pushing up, his back arching slightly.

Lips and teeth traced his jaw line, nipped at the juncture of jaw and
neck, drawing a hiss and another buck.

He was so damn hard, so very much needing and the feather-light touches
were driving him crazy. He yearned for a harder touch, for more pressure,
and the clothes were in the way. He almost whined as Miroku drew back,
then groaned as that needed pressure on his groin returned.

It would be so easy to flip them around, tear off their clothes, take
his lover, but everything had changed between them. Where only weeks ago
Inuyasha wouldn't have hesitated to follow up on his thoughts, he now held
back, wanted to go with the flow, follow Miroku's lead.

"What do you want?" a rough voice whispered in his ears.

He whimpered. He wanted Miroku. He wanted him writhing underneath him,
panting, yearning for more, hear his hoarse cries.

"What do you want?" Miroku repeated, biting one pointed dog-ear gently.

Inuyasha gasped, eyes flying open, back arching.

"You," he groaned.

Amber eyes met violet ones and there was an almost invisible shift
in Miroku's body language. The pressure on his wrists lessened, then the
grip was gone. Lithely, the slender form slid off him, tugging at his own
kimono. Inuyasha looked at him, mouth open, breathing hard as smooth, muscular
planes of skin were revealed. He was barely aware of his own, jerky motions
to rid himself of his clothes.

Miroku's helping hands sent sparks through him and suddenly he was
pulled forward, tumbling into the hot embrace of his lover. Lips sought
his in a deep, soul-searing kiss.

"You have me, koishii. I'm yours."

It broke something inside the hanyou, releasing bottled up emotions,
and he hungrily took possession of the sinful mouth. He worked himself
down the sinewy body, paying attention to the soft spots he had discovered
in the time they had been imprisoned together, and listened to Miroku's
encouraging whispers, groans and cries. Preparation was a matter of caution
due to his claws and barely controlled lust. He wouldn't let himself lose
control and harm Miroku. His strength had to be kept in check.

When he finally slid into that tight heat, he almost came right on
the spot. Inuyasha felt his lover writhe and buck under him, moan incoherently,
fingers stroking his back and long legs wrapping around his waist, pulling
him deeper inside the other man. Miroku�s eyes were almost black and hazy
with need and desire, and he panted his name, meeting every slow thrust
with a buck of his own.

�Inuyasha� koishii, please� �

Inuyasha gave in, buried his hands into Miroku�s hair as he bent down
to claim those lips that had given him so much pleasure in the past and
that he had learned to appreciate only these past weeks. He let go, swallowed
every deep groan and whimper when he took Miroku higher and higher, until
the lithe body under him stiffened and arched, fingers digging almost painfully
into his back and then Miroku screamed out his name as the climax hit him.
Inuyasha groaned at the sight and followed his lover over the edge.

He almost collapsed on him, riding out the afterglow of their encounter.
Eyes closed, Inuyasha felt Miroku�s hands stroke his sweaty back, pull
a blanket over their bodies, and nibble gently at his ear.

�Love you� � he whispered, and strangely this words touched something
inside of Inuyasha, making him shiver.

Miroku loved him, had said so several times, and he had answered in
kind but � to what good?

Inuyasha clenched his eyes shut against the wave of emotions that was
welling up inside him, threatening to flood him, wash him away. Miroku
would have to sire a son and, if not successful in fighting Naraku, would
be swallowed by his kazaana eventually. Kagome would return to her own
epoch because she just didn�t belong in this one, and Sango� Sango would
do whatever pleased her, hunt down demons and the kind as long as she would
be able to. Shippo would grow into a powerful kitsune and be a full demon
one day � and then what? What if they had found the jewel until then?

What was the jewel to him now? True, if they had it, they might be
able to destroy Naraku. Having it was preferable to him getting his paws
on the complete Shikon no Tama.

But a few months ago he had been hell-bent on becoming a full demon
with its help. Now all he could think of was the blood on his hands, the
rage and feeling of satisfaction of having destroyed living flesh, the
electric touch of blood on his lips and tongue, the taste� a sickening
recollection that wanted to make him throw up. As a demon he had no control.
He had the power and the strength, but no control, like any other demon
had. He would get a boost, an energizing rush, and he would simply snap
and take what he wanted.

Turning human was no option either. He experienced the weakness of
humanity once a month where he had to hide from his friends and enemies
alike. From his friends because he would endanger them, from his enemies
because they would take that time to kill him.

So, as a hanyou, he had the best of both worlds. He had power, though
not that of a full demon, and he had control over it. He could still feel�
emotions. He could love� and he had Miroku.

Miroku� Inuyasha lost the battle against his emotions, body trembling
with silent sobs. And then he felt a soft questing touch on his face, fingertips
wiping the wetness on his cheeks away.

�Inuyasha? Koishii?�

Miroku felt the body he was holding close shake. He asked again but
received no answer. Worried now he stroked the beloved face gently, shocked
to find moisture there.

�Inuyasha? What�s wrong, koishii?�

�Don�t call me that � �

�Inuyasha, why? Talk to me � �

�I can�t.�

�Why?�

� �demons don�t love� �

Miroku�s eyes widened, but he closed his arms tighter around the weeping
form, felt the hot tears streaming down his naked chest.

No, demons don�t love, he thought, still bewildered by what he had
just experienced, mere seconds after being taken � no, after having loved.

But they don�t cry either.
* * *
The next morning Aiko inspected Miroku's arm and nodded in satisfaction.

�It is done,� she said, massaging the tender flesh. �You will experience
trouble with your movement for a while longer. Use this salve, and train
you arm, but don�t overdo it, then you�ll regain your strength. As for
you,� her eyes wandered to Inuyasha, and the hanyou frowned. Somehow he
didn�t want to hear what she might have to say. �You have begun to heal,
hanyou, but you�re still tender. You will scar, and as your friend will
be aware of his, you will feel yours. Especially when you put strain on
it.�

�I wasn�t wounded.�

She shook her head somewhat sadly.

�Yes, you were, Inuyasha, you just don�t want to see. Hanyou, you know
what happens to wounds when they are left untreated for too long. They
are a festering sore. And sometimes they have to be burned and cut."

He lowered his eyes, hands curled into fists.

The woman looked at Miroku and her eyes softened. "You can leave tomorrow.
Use that time."

He nodded and they watched her leave. Miroku went over to check on
the food she had left, sniffing at the freshly baked goods. The aroma was
wonderful.

"Miroku?" Inuyasha asked softly.

He turned and looked at the hanyou who still crouched on the floor.
Amber eyes lifted.

"Why me?"

The monk blinked. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. "Come again?"

"Why did you choose me? I can never give you what a woman could. A
child. An heir to continue the quest to kill Naraku. Only a woman can bear
your children." Inuyasha lowered his head. "You hit on every woman we met
throughout our travels, but you slept with me. Why me?"

Miroku stood thunder struck. There was so much pain in those words,
such insecurity� it hurt him in turn. He had never thought about his past
as a reason for Inuyasha to doubt him.

Kneeling down opposite his lover he reached out and touched one smooth
cheek.

"Inuyasha. Koishii. Love works in mysterious ways." He smiled sadly
at the other man. "I was raised to be what you see today � a ladies man,
someone only looking for this one goal. I never thought of it as any harm
since it was my supposed heritage, the continuation of my blood line. I
never thought about what it meant for the child I'd father, Inuyasha, until
I met you guys. Until I finally fought against Naraku. I couldn't burden
a child with my curse. Maybe my grandfather and my father could, but I
can't. I've lived with the death in my hand for twenty years now. I can't
curse anyone else with it."

"If you died� Naraku will have won," Inuyasha whispered.

"No, he'll never win. Even should I die. But I believe we'll find that
son of a bitch and destroy him. That's my goal in life � his death. Not
the death of yet unborn child. I've found love. I found it with you. It
happened over time and it's still happening. It's a miracle for me and
I treasure each moment."

Inuyasha's eyes strayed to the door and Miroku followed the silent
gaze. It was the last barrier between them and their friends. They would
return to them, back to reality, so to speak. No more nights lying together,
no more tender touches, no open affection. Their friends didn't know and
he doubted they were ready for it yet.

"It'll be okay," he said softly.

Inuyasha averted his eyes, closing them. "When we leave this place,
everything will have changed."

"Yes. Because we have changed."

"Enough to last?"

Miroku froze, stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Can we go on out there?"

"Of course!"

Golden eyes opened and looked at him. "What if your feelings change?
What if you meet a woman, Miroku? What if she can give you more than I?"

"You think I won't be faithful?" he whispered, shocked.

"Right now, I don't know what to think," the hanyou replied, voice
filled with doubt and fear.

"I won't leave you, Inuyasha. Never voluntarily, never willingly. There
won't be anyone else."

So much fear, Miroku thought desperately. And insecurity. So many emotions
underneath that hard-nosed shell of a warrior. But his womanizing days
had been over for a long time now. For months. Ever since their first encounter
in that clearing. He had fallen in love with Inuyasha and he knew that
there was no way back.

Miroku laid a hand on the bowed head and pulled him closer. Inuyasha
let himself fall, laying his head on Miroku's lap as tender fingers caressed
his hair, and the two men stayed together, each pondering his own thoughts.
* * *
They left the hut to the sight of the sun just rising over the horizon.
Their friends were there, standing in the small village, looking worried
and fearful, but when Inuyasha emerged at Miroku's side, Kagome's face
lit up in a smile.

"Inuyasha!" she called.

He couldn't find the feeling inside of him that had been there months
before, the joy at her presence, the way he felt she was something special.
Yes, she still was special, just like Kikyo, but Kagome hadn't been the
one he had needed.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly. "We went back to the cave and
found all that blood� Are you hurt?"

"No," he answered brusquely.

She frowned, two sharp lines appearing on her young face, then her
eyes fell on Miroku.

"Miroku�?"

"We're both fine," the monk replied calmly. "No permanent harm was
done."

Sango stepped forward, running a critical eye over the man in front
of her, taking in the black kimono that wasn't his. Then her eyes fell
on the scarred left forearm.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"The curse happened!" Inuyasha growled, then pushed past her.

Miroku sighed as she hanyou got some distance between them. "Inuyasha
became his demon self and I held him inside the cave with a barrier."

"He got you?" Sango asked matter-of-factly, taking his left arm and
inspecting it.

"Yes, but the healer of this village took care of the wounds. I'm fine."

Her clear dark eyes burned into his, seeking the truth, then she let
go of his hand, nodding. His brief explanation was accepted.

Miroku watched as Kagome approached Inuyasha, trying to talk to him.
She received answers, but probably didn't like them. Miroku turned back
to the old woman who had watched them silently. He bowed.

"Thank you, healer."

Aiko nodded, then disappeared into her home.

"Are you all right?" Sango asked.

He gave her a smile. "Yes."

She looked at Inuyasha again, who stood at the edge of the small village,
apparently eager to leave. Kagome was with him, but she kept her distance,
and Shippo just silently trailed after Miroku and Sango.

The small group continued their journey. Miroku watched his lover thoughtfully,
noted how silent and closed he was, how he kept ahead of them � to scout,
he claimed.

"He did change then, despite Tetsuseiga," Sango murmured after a while.

Miroku nodded. "Yes, the demon came through. The curse is lifted, though.
It won't happen again."

"I hope so for his sake."

It earned her a sharp look.

"If he had gotten free, he would have killed everyone in his way,"
the demon huntress added. "And I would have stopped him."

"He didn't get out," Miroku replied, voice harder and edgier than normal.
"Inuyasha is our friend. I thought you had understood that by now."

"Twelve hours with him have made you short-tempered, monk."

"Twelve hours? Try twelve weeks. The old woman put a time barrier around
us." He raised his scarred arm. "It's how she managed to heal this so quickly."

Sango's eyes widened. "Twelve weeks? But� impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible, Sango. Nothing."

Her dark eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened in there?"

Miroku gave her a half-smile. "An understanding, Sango. An understanding."
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Layers	By : Macx Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3143 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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