InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Consistently Inconsistent ❯ my t-shirt is tighter than yours ( Chapter 2 )

 

Author's Note: Jesus Christ. Thank you so much people who are reading, and person who reviewed. You win at life, Angel of Androgyny. Mostly. (Sorry.)

 

I'll pretty much be posting the new chapters at random. It's just that I kind of go back n' forth between having lots of free time and having zero free time. So I already apologize for long-ass breaks in-between new chapters. It's all my fault, and I'll feel horrible about it.

 

P.S.: The band's name ends up being Advocate. Just so you know, because I'm pretty much vague and I think it's un-clear in this chapter. Sorry for any mistakes in this chapter. (It is beta-d. But that doesn't mean God wrote it. Wait, bad example. I'm sorry.)

 

Also: Everything else that's important is in the first chapter. Go read it if you haven't, suckers. I know that author's note is fucking long, but it's fucking long for a reason, love.

 

Oh!: My beta is kind of being slow about getting the next couple of chapters back to me.
If you want the job instead, you can AIM me at: Y o u r F a c e 0 6 1 8 (without the spaces). If you don't have AIM, e-mail me and we can find another way. Thank you.

 

And thank you again for everything else and more. And please review if you can. It helps me feel special. This is nice.

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Consistently Inconsistent

 

chapter two: my t-shirt is tighter than yours

 

 

Sesshomaru's room was painted an awful color somewhere between taupe and mauve. Fluffy white couches and abstract art framed the walls. A clock rotated red hands as InuYasha stared at it.

 

“Honestly, I expected better.” Sesshomaru's voice bled disappointment.

 

InuYasha twitched, “It's not like we planned it.”

Sesshomaru calmly raised a finely groomed eyebrow.

“I'm serious! How could I have known-”

 

“That Kouga would be an inch away from breaking every piece of equipment - that our father's company has to pay for? And Miroku would attempt to make out with you on stage, while you were singing?” Sesshomaru sighed, “No, of course, there's no possible way you could have known.” He leaned back and folded his neat hands across a clean desk, posture straight.

 

“Look, Sessh,” InuYasha lifted up and pushed lightly with his feet on wooden floors. “I'm sorry, okay?”

 

“It had better not happen again.”

The door knob was cold in his hand, “It's not like I can predict other people's behavior.”

 

The door shut with a rather rude click and Sesshomaru shook his head.

“Asshole.” InuYasha mumbled from the other side.

 

-|-|-|-|-

 

“Hey.” Kagome glanced up from the bright T.V. and watched as InuYasha set three folded brown-paper bags on the empty table adjacent to the door. “Did you talk to Sessh?”

 

InuYasha spared her a glance and nodded a little, taking out a white carton from the bag nearest to him. “Yeah.”

Kagome set the remote aside and sat up, “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. ... Do we have any utensils?”

 

Kagome gave him a look, “No and no. You're not getting out of this. What'd he say?”

 

InuYasha narrowed his eyes at the persistent girl. Kagome glared back.

“He didn't say shit. Do we have any utensils?”

 

Kagome sighed and flopped back onto the cushy bed, “Sango went out to get some.” She pressed the volume button on the remote, “We're talking later.”

 

“Dude, how fucking lucky are we to win a hotel room?” said Kouga, as he tripped out of the bathroom, belatedly zipping up his fly.

 

“Pretty goddamn lucky.” InuYasha fixed his attention back on the folded bags. He opened one of the smaller bags and cautiously sniffed inside.

 

For the most part, no bands actually slept in hotel/motel rooms. Usually, they'd pass out in the van (and continue driving) or possibly resort to the couches of best friends' houses. They didn't actually win the hotel room, but it sure as hell felt like it.

 

Miroku squirmed from his spot on the floor, face down in dirty carpet he asked, “Is that food I smell? Sweet.”

 

Kouga's eyes widened. “Oh seriously?” He shouted, jumping over Miroku, nearly skimming the crown of the guitarist's head. “The hell? Kouga?” Miroku said, sliding his hands forward into a push-up position.

 

The brunette was a little busy poking his head over InuYasha's shoulder and turning grabby hands to the food. “For real, dude, this is awesome. What kind?”

 

Kagome rolled off the pink bedspread.

“I bet it's Chinese.” She said, distractedly stretching with hands high over her head. Her head rolled and she muttered, “Oh, yeah.” while flattening her purple tank, black fingernails dark against the cloth.

InuYasha looked over at her, his hands clasped around a white take-out box, “It is actually.”

 

-|-|-|-|-

 

There was still an issue of plates, utensils, and napkins not two minutes later when Kouga started stuffing Lo-Mien into his mouth with bare hands and tried to yell about how great it tasted. He almost choked and InuYasha had to squeeze his stomach tight in a half-hearted Heimlich maneuver.

 

“The fuck! I'm not choking anymore!”

InuYasha promptly slid off Kouga's middle and frowned. “Well, excuse me for trying to save your sorry ass life.”

 

The brunette turned, “Say that again!” A white take-out carton was wedged between his firm fists.

 

“Your. Sorry. Ass. Life.”

 

Kouga proceeded to throw half-eaten noodles in InuYasha's face.

 

Sango opened the door. She had a plastic bag trapped inside her other hand. “Is it just me, or can you all not survive when I'm gone?”

 

Kagome laughed and gladly stole said bag from Sango. “What took you so long?”

 

Miroku ducked an incoming ball of rice and said, “I thought I was going to be murdered.”

Kagome started emptying the plates and forks and napkins from the bag and handed a careful amount to Sango. She nodded, “For serious, those dudes are brutal.”

 

Sango sighed, “You guys!”

The flinging of food stopped and InuYasha stared at her with wide gold eyes, while Kouga looked vaguely guilty.

 

-|-|-|-|-

 

The food had been eaten somewhat properly and hands had been forcibly washed. It was ten o'clock and the band had received a phone call.

 

“So. Your father is sure, right? We've got a meeting with that crazy ass label. What's it called again?”

 

“Taxi-Moose.”

 

“Right, Taxi-Moose. We're going for sure then?”

 

The question repeated itself an annoying amount of times. Mostly, everyone was still hazily shocked from when InuYasha had answered his cell and let out a very loud, “Seriously?!”

 

“So, we'll have to think of a name then.” Sango said casually, sipping from a Dixie cup - they split a bottle of root beer 5 ways from the mini-bar.

 

Kouga paused in his drumming against Kagome's calf. “What's wrong with the name we have now?”

 

Sango set her cup down, “Backlash was just a temp name. We all agreed on that, remember?”

Kouga pouted, “Yeah but...”

Kagome patted his arm, “No.”

 

InuYasha was spread between silky pillows and silkier sheets. He sighed, “Yeah. We should, uh, you know- like put a bunch of names in a hat.”

 

Miroku coughed, “And just pick one?”

 

InuYasha opened one eye, “Pretty much.”

 

-|-|-|-|-

 

“Do Me is not a band name!” InuYasha groaned. Picking names that Miroku had put in the red baseball cap was...

 

“What about I Wanna Sex You Up? That was my second choice anyway.”

 

Kagome giggled, “Not as good as Ass Rape though.”

 

Sango grinned, “I was totally in for Ass Rape.”

 

Miroku jumped up, “Hell yes! That's three votes against two!” He shoved a fist into the air, “I so win.”

 

Kouga thrust his head up from its comfy position on InuYasha's flat stomach. “Miroku. I want you to listen to me.”

 

Miroku swayed on his feet a little and stared at the older boy, “Yes, baby?”

 

Kouga breathed in, “You couldn't come up with a half-decent band name if your life depended on it. Honestly.” He glanced back at InuYasha's sleepy semi-smile, “So shut up.”

Miroku blinked.

Kouga said, “Please.”

 

“You're such a whore.”

 

InuYasha rolled his eyes and sat up. Kouga's head fell to the side and his cheek was parallel to InuYasha's thigh. “Seriously, this is why we don't let you write the lyrics.”

 

Miroku scoffed, “Now that's just- Hey! Where are you going?”

 

InuYasha grunted, opening the peach bathroom door, “'M taking a shower.”

 

-|-|-|-|-

 

The next days had InuYasha in the middle of fifteen year olds, clutching a black CD player, and glaring at Miroku smiling beside him.

 

There was an open area in front of the venue where these teenies tended to collect, congregate, and chat about who's the hottest and who's just not.

 

“This is ridiculous. Why did I agree again?”

 

Miroku attempted to flag over a rather scantily dressed number of girls who giggled as they passed. “Because, it was either this or spend time with Kouga, Sango, and Kagome as they do their nails.”

 

InuYasha sighed and tugged on his one-size-too-small pant leg, “Yeah, right.”

 

Miroku finally got the attention of a mixed bunch of kids. “Hey, hey.” He said, “Ever heard of this band called Advocate…? I hear they're pretty good.” He shoved InuYasha forward.

 

The younger boy muttered, “Wanna listen?” and offered the CD player.

 

The kids smiled a little nervously, a few agreed, and InuYasha thought again: this was the absolute worst way to sell their merchandise and gain publicity, ever.

 

-|-|-|-|-

 

On their short walk back to the hotel room, Miroku punched InuYasha lightly in the shoulder and stopped in front of a small store.

 

“Dude!”

 

InuYasha peeked over the brunette's head, “What?”

 

“We are so coming back here tomorrow.” He stated proudly.
InuYasha swiftly read the dimly-lit sign, “The hell? Miroku, we're not getting piercings and tattoos.”

 

“But I thought we were hardcore now.”

 

InuYasha laughed and pushed the older boy forward, “Oh yeah, beyond fucking hardcore.”

 

Miroku grinned and zipped up his black hoodie, “I know, right? …Hey, how much money do you think we could pay Kouga to get a tattoo claiming his undying love for you?”

 

InuYasha rolled his eyes and said, “Not much.”