InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Waiting on a Wish ❯ Chapter 16 ( Chapter 16 )

WARNING: LEMON. Not far beyond this line are descriptions of graphic sexual acts that are definitely not suited for kids. So, if you are one… Shoo, shoo. Go into the next room and watch Avatar. It’s really good, I promise. If you aren’t one, and you still enjoy this kind thing, well, by all means, please enjoy. ^_^

Disclaimer: Inu and company do not belong to me. They belong to all those tiny little creative writing fairies that hide under Takahashi’s bed and whisper in her ear while she sleeps at night. …… So, does anyone know where I sell my soul to hook up with one of those things?

Chapter 16

The third floor hallway was softly quiet. No random sounds, just a peaceful stillness that permeated the entire building.

Kagome stared at the door in front of her, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip as she tried to sort through the swirling, mixed-up pit of emotions churning up her stomach. Nerves, anger, fear--it was all there, blending in an odd confusion and wrapping bands of tension through her entire body. Minutes ticked by as she just stood there--long, drawn-out seconds that taunted her with her inaction.

InuYasha was here, somewhere behind that door. Alone. Human. Not expecting her.

Would he be angry? She didn’t want to fight with him--not really. That wasn’t why she’d come tonight.

Her heart was suddenly thudding loudly in her chest. The smooth and jagged edges of the key in her hand dug almost painfully into her palm, clenched there by a tense fist. She was stunned to find herself unable to push forward, to use the key and step inside.

And Kagome realized that getting into the building was the easiest thing she was going to do tonight. It had been almost too easy, really. The well-kept concrete of the front walk had been a simple traverse, the chilly night air almost reassuring in its calmness, and the polished mahogany of the front doors had offered no resistance.

Such a beautiful building he lived in, she mused, troubled blue eyes tracing the outline of his front door. She’d never seen an apartment building like it before, and couldn’t help but marvel as she’d made her way upward.

It had a lovely little foyer just beyond the front entrance, with marble--yes, marble--flooring and that pretty, carved arch leading into the rest of the building. The stairway (no elevators that she could see) had been at the end of the ground-floor hallway, with its carved balustrade and polished steps leading up through each floor. Wide, carpeted hallways, an irregular distribution of front doors, and soft lighting--all spoke of a simplicity and elegance that modern building just didn’t have.

It felt more like a refurbished mansion than a normal apartment building--which made her even more curious about Jinenji and his mother, and the history of their place. She made mental note to ask about it when she next visited with Jinenji.

Assuming she got the chance to visit with him again.

It had taken her less than ten minutes to find her way to the top, and she had neither seen nor heard another living soul as she ascended the stairs. No general sounds of life bled through the walls as she passed the through the halls of the first two floors. Even her own footsteps had seemed muffled against the bare wood of the stairs.

Either the residents don’t make any noise, she’d mused silently to herself, or the insulation is incredible.

Well, the building was built with youkai senses in mind, right?

And now she stood in the middle of the hallway on the third floor, in front of the only door on the level, and couldn’t seem to find the courage to open the door. Her fingers uncurled themselves from around the key, and she stared down at the metal in her palm. Was this really the right thing to do? Just spring it on him that she knew?

But Miroku knows, and he’s not even sleeping with him.

She almost grinned at that.

Sango knows too, but she’s sleeping with Miroku.

The hint of a grin faded back into solemnity. And what did both of their friends have in common? InuYasha’s trust. He’d given it to them, but he hadn’t seen fit to give it to her.

Her mind prodded her, reminded her, bombarded her with images. The orphanage, and all the different times when she’d seen many of those precious little ones suffer through the temporary loss of their powers. Most of the children at the orphanage came from a background that wasn’t all that pleasant; their dulled human senses frightened them, and the accompanying loss of a sense of well-being even more so. Most of the children hid themselves away until it was over.

She was already well versed on the significance of a hanyou’s human night. Was it really too much to expect him to trust her with his secret? They’d already shared their bodies; was it really so big a leap to share something like this?

Maybe.

She sighed, and felt her shoulders slump just a little in guilt. InuYasha was not one of her orphans; he’d been dealing with his human nights by himself for a good portion of his life, and more than likely knew exactly how to handle it best. And if that didn’t include her, then who was she to object?

All she really wanted to do was to let him know that she was there. Was it really so wrong to want to comfort him, to desire that deeper kind of intimacy to go along with the physical one they already shared?

It might be wrong to force it on him.

But… he’d forced himself into her life in the first place, hadn’t he? What gave him the right to push her away now? What gave him the right to lie about it?

Her biggest problem was that he’d deliberately tried to keep her away. He hadn’t wanted her here. There was no getting around it, and the knowledge hurt, somewhere deep inside where she kept the truest parts of herself. It felt almost like a betrayal. She’d thought--honestly and truly thought--that he did trust her, that he regarded her as someone special, someone important to him. She had no real justification for it, she just felt it. Or had.

Finding out otherwise had caused a surprising amount of pain. More, perhaps, than she really had the right to feel after so little time together.

Maybe.

Or maybe this is how all women feel with their first lover.

The thought wasn’t the most pleasant in the world, and caused a surge of anxiety that twisted her stomach muscles painfully. Her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in thought.

Why should she hesitate? It wasn’t as if she could go home now anyway. She would not leave without seeing him first.

Humph.

Had he hesitated when he’d shown up at her work that first day? Had he hesitated before tagging along without an invitation while she did her job--or before kissing her on her doorstep? Had he hesitated in the slightest before challenging Kouga in front of her workplace, or in scolding her simply for doing her job while he was doing his--his dangerous, life-threatening job? Had he hesitated for more than half a second before jumping into bed with her?

Her spine straightened. If he had the right to be so damn possessive of her, then she had the right to be possessive of him.

Enough standing around. The only way her thoughts and emotions were ever going to be settled would be confronting InuYasha himself. Only after seeing and hearing his reaction would she would have more than questions and speculations to respond from.

Drawing a deep, fortifying breath, she peeled the key out of her palm, grimacing slightly at the red-lined depression left behind, then slipped the key into the lock. The tumblers fell into place with a soft ‘snick’, and the knob turned smoothly beneath her palm. Breath bated, she stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was sitting in the darkness like he always did on these nights--this time in nothing but a towel, as he’d just come from the bath.

He didn’t normally take baths on his human nights, but after only an hour with his dulled human senses and no Kagome, he’d needed something to distract himself with, and a bath had been the first thing to come to mind. He didn’t feel like eating; he never did on these nights anyway--everything tasted different when he couldn’t smell it properly. He could have settled in to watch some mind-numbing television show, but the noise would only prevent him from hearing anything unnatural or out of place in the area around his home.

Besides, he didn’t want to numb his senses even more. Ever since he’d met Kagome, there’d been a subtle shift in the cadence of life around him; things were getting odder--in the broad sense of the politics of the city, and the more intimate sense of the people closest to him. The simmering undercurrent felt like a threat, even if he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, and as a result, he was feeling much less secure than he normally did on his human nights. So, he sat alone on his bed in the darkness of his bedroom, contemplating his own stupidity.

Of all the idiotic things for him to do. Of all the nights for him to leave her alone, in the care of someone else. Granted, they were the strongest, most trustworthy someones that he knew, but still….

He was an idiot.

He missed her company. He was bored without her, disquieted, on edge. Frustrated beyond belief that she wasn’t nearby. Not that he didn’t normally feel this way on these nights, but….

The restlessness was worse this time. It was the worst it had been in a long time. And it was because Kagome wasn’t here. He missed her. He’d spent almost every possible second with her since he’d found her, and now he wanted her here with him. He wanted her calming presence, her soothing doctor’s hands, what little of her scent that he would be able to detect in this form. She belonged with him. And it was his own damn fault that she wasn’t where she belonged.

Because he hadn’t wanted her to see him this way. Because he was afraid of what she would think of him in his human form. Because he’d had this faint notion that she would somehow lose faith in his strength, would somehow see him as less than he was after seeing him as a mere human.

It was a stupid notion, of course--something he’d realized after giving it some serious thought. His Kagome wasn’t like that; he was certain of it, knew it on a level that bordered on instinctual. But it hadn’t stopped the momentary fear that had prompted him to keep her at a distance--at least for tonight. And now he was regretting it.

He missed Kagome….

Aggravation forced a growl that wasn’t really a growl from his throat, and his heel kicked at the floor in reaction. Shit, even his voice was wrong tonight….

Dammit, it wasn’t like he could protect her properly tonight anyway!

The thought made him wince, and he put his head in his hands. So the fuck what if he couldn’t protect her like normal?! He should have kept her closer than ever and made damn sure she was all right. It was his responsibility; he should have had her with him tonight, in the safest place he knew to be. He wove his fingers through the long, still-damp strands of black that had replaced his normal silver-white and tightened almost viciously, absorbing the brief pain with relish.

Fucking moron.

He should have just told her. He almost had. It would have been so simple--tell her he had something important to show her, and let her see for herself. She’d have come if he’d just asked, and he wouldn’t have had to say a word in explanation.

He hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d hesitated. In that moment, in the instant when he’d realized what she--not just her mother, but she--was asking him, his lungs had constricted, his mind had frozen, and the words he’d heard come out of his mouth weren’t the words he’d intended to say--the words he knew he should say. He should have told her right then. Or, at the very least, he should have asked her to stay with him tonight, so he could show her.

Except….

If he had been in his regular form, his ears would have drooped.

His humanity. The loss of his senses. His vulnerability. Everything that made him weak. He hated it. The thought of showing it to her--now, when everything was still so new, when everything was still so….so fucking dangerous…. Unsettled…. When he could still lose her, and everyone else who was important to him, and the possibility scared him so bad that he refused to think about it and got angry instead….

He didn’t want her to see his greatest weakness. He wanted her to see his strength, to trust completely in his ability to protect her. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to her even the smallest hint of possible failure--and it didn’t matter one fucking bit that she wouldn’t have any clue that he was failing. He would still be failing.

He couldn’t fail this time. He needed her to believe in him.

His scowl deepened. But if she found out he’d kept this from her, he might not get her trust for a long damn time.

Shit.

A noise, so soft he almost didn’t hear it, but out of place enough that it immediately caught his attention, sounded from out in the living room. His heart pounded, and a shot of chilled adrenaline straightened his spine, effectively yanking him from the misery of self-recriminations. Instantly alert, his head came up, his eyes hard and searching through the darkness of his room.

Someone was in his apartment.

His lip curled aggressively, but he hesitated for a moment. It was almost inconceivable that anyone unwelcome had made it past the gates without raising some kind of an alarm. This place had so many safeguards in place it was disgusting. Hell, one of the only reasons he was able to live here was because the old witch depended on him as extra protection against that kind of intrusion.

But everyone he knew who had access to this place was nowhere near here tonight--so who the hell was in his apartment? Tonight, of all nights?

Another faint sound had him gritting his teeth and holding in an instinctual growl. Disregarding the fact that he was still slightly damp and in nothing but a towel, he rose silently from the bed, his entire body tensed and ready for combat, but cautious. He grabbed Tetsusaiga from its place beside his bed, even though he knew it wouldn’t be much help if he did have to fight. Something was always better than nothing.

Then, quickly, thankful for the silence of the carpet, he crept his way down the hallway towards the living room.

He’d forgotten he’d left the light on over the stove. The soft yellow glow bounced off the various surfaces of his living room, defining everything in shadows and dull, almost non-existent colors. He drew to a stop just beyond where the light’s pathetic reach had started to encroach into the hallway, his eyes making a cautious sweep over the various shapes populating the room before him.

They landed on the slim figure standing almost frozen in front of his front door. His breath caught in his throat, and his grip loosened on the sheath in his hand. The battle tension drained from his body, only to be instantly replaced by another, more apprehensive kind of tension. For a brief moment, he considered the possibility that he might be hallucinating…. But only for a moment.

Kagome.

Details were hazy from this far away, but he was intimately acquainted with dips and curves of the body that stood across the room. He was very familiar with the inquisitive way she tilted her head back and forth as she scanned the interior around her, and the way she clung tight to the bag slung over her shoulder. He was even mildly irritated at the way her hair was twisted up into some sort of clip, even if quite a few strands had already escaped to fall around her face.

He much preferred it free, floating down around her shoulders.

Kagome is here….

A confused frown twisted his brows, prompted by the conflict of emotion that slammed through him. Kagome was here; he could relax now, he didn’t have to go through any more of this torment shit. Kagome was here; now she would see his human form, now she would see his weakness.

Damn! How did she….

His chest tightened, and before he knew what he was doing, he was moving, striding out into the living room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing that struck her was the darkness; the only source of illumination was a muted appliance light coming from somewhere in the kitchen. The second was the still, settled quality of the air; it felt empty and unoccupied in here. The rest of the room came at her in impressions as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and wandered the dim shadows of the apartment before her.

Living room to the left. Kitchen to the right. The two rooms were open to each other, and while the kitchen seemed typical (she immediately liked the island) the living room seemed minimally furnished: a couch, two armchairs and a big TV (She almost rolled her eyes at that; how very male of him.), and little else that she could make out through the shadows. The room was spacious--bigger than any living room she’d ever seen--and the light didn’t quite reach into every corner, creating more confusing shadows than anything else.

She paused. The floor was wall-to-wall carpet but, out of habit, she kicked off her shoes to the side of the door anyway. She couldn’t see InuYasha anywhere.

Her eyes darted around again until she spotted the hallway--a dark, squared-off rectangle of inky shadows that led further into the apartment. She let the breath whoosh from her lungs in a soft explosion of air, and her eyes shut tight as she took a second to brace herself. Then she almost jumped out of her skin as a harsh voice barked at her from the darkness.

“Kagome! How the fuck did you get in here?!”

Her heart stopped in her chest, then resumed at a terrified, throat-choking rhythm. Her eyes flew open wide and she focused immediately on the dark-haired figure advancing on her from the hallway.

“InuYasha?!” His name popped out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. “Is that you?”

His scowl darkened for an instant. “Of course it’s me! I live here!”

She tilted her head. Her first instinctive impulse was surprise at his changed appearance, even if she had been expecting it; but his scowl was the same as always, and that it was firmly in place as he drew closer was oddly reassuring.

He halted abruptly halfway across the room, his body at an angle that allowed the light to fall clearly across his features. She noticed his scowl falter, just little, before he continued. “You were…” He sounded hesitant, confused even. “You said you were going to the shrine. What the hell are you doing here?!”

“InuYasha…” The bag slid from her shoulders and fell neglected onto the floor. Her feet started moving, padding softly across the carpet, carrying her towards him. He didn’t move, didn’t seem to know quite how to react. His eyes latched onto her, but his gaze was guarded, wary, framed by tense dark brows that only tightened as she drew closer.

At least he hadn’t ordered her out. Yet.

“You--” Kagome’s step faltered for a moment as her eyes belatedly registered the rest of his appearance. She sucked in a quick breath. “Oh.”

A towel, and that sword of his in his hand.

Not wearing much, is he?

She released the air from her lungs, then resumed her approach, much slower this time. Her gaze traveled the length of him as she went, down to his bare feet and back up past his towel-clad hips, lingering on his exposed abdomen and chest before settling back on his face. He didn’t move as she drew to a stop in front of him, close enough to touch if she wanted, but far enough away to still be slightly impersonal.

Then she just stared, entranced by the differences. “You really are human,” she breathed softly. Her eyes fell to the dark strands sliding over his shoulders. She reached out to pluck at them. “Your hair is black….” she murmured thoughtfully. It was soft and cool to the touch, and held the faintest hint of dampness. Her gaze rose again, and she frowned. “Your eyes are….” She leaned a little closer, unable to tell in the dim light. “Dark--”

“Gray,” he supplied, startling her.

Even his voice is different…. Smoother. Gentler.

“Gray? Really?”

His black eyebrows quirked at her blank tone. “You think I’ve lived this long without knowing what my human face looks like? Trust me, they’re gray.”

“Hmmm.” She reached up both hands and placed them on his cheeks, angling his head to get a better look. He surprised her by allowing it without comment--though he retained his guarded expression.

Inside she struggled against herself, fighting a battle between relief and self-doubt. He hadn’t rejected her. He hadn’t yelled at her and demanded that she leave him alone…but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was just standing there, staring at her with a look she couldn’t decipher. He was so tense--not just his expression, but his entire body. She could almost feel it in the air between them, and it was putting her on edge, too.

Why was he just standing there? Why didn’t he say something?

Allowing a frown of her own to form between her brows, she dropped both hands to rest lightly on his chest. He inhaled against her touch, bringing warm skin into firmer contact with cool fingers as she stared blankly, frantically searching for an emotion to grasp onto.

He was still just standing there. As if nothing was wrong. As if he hadn’t deliberately misled her. As if he hadn’t hurt her.

“Kagome--”

Anger. “You jerk!” Suddenly incensed, she smacked her palms against his torso, hard enough to send him stumbling back a step.

“Hey!” His expression went from caution to angry surprise in a heartbeat, but she didn’t care.

“You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out, didn’t you?!” Her hands fisted on her hips as he recovered his footing. “I’m a doctor, InuYasha! I probably know more about hanyou cycles than you do!”

“I know that!”

“So…what? You just hoped I wouldn’t notice when you started disappearing around the same time every month?! I’m not stupid!”

“I know, dammit!” He sounded almost as frustrated as she felt. “I--”

She pointed an accusing finger. “You lied to me!”

“What?!” Indignation joined the anger. “Bullshit! Not giving details doesn’t count as lying! This is different!”

Normally she would have called him on that, but in this case, he had a valid point. She knew that. Some things required a lack of details. Especially a secret like this. Especially if one was a hunter by trade.

Frustration supplanted anger. She let her hands drop to her sides, and fought to keep the tears gathering behind her eyes from showing in her voice. “You could have trusted me, dammit!”

He visibly winced when she cursed, then yelled back in kind. “I fucking well know that, too!”

Wait…. What? Her anger seemed to dissipate as quickly as it had arisen, leaving only frustration and confusion. “You…do?”

He gave her his “are you stupid?” look. “Of course!”

“Then….” She blinked at him. “Why didn’t you?”

The softness of her question froze him in his tracks, and he stared at her, that odd, indecipherable look from before returning to his eyes. Then he gave a quiet snort, and brushed past her. She turned on her heel to face him, but didn’t move to follow.

“That damn bastard monk,” he grumbled, rather randomly, as he plopped down into the nearest seat: a well-cushioned armchair, perpendicular to the couch. The sword fell with a soft thud to the carpet beside him. “I’ll kill him.”

She felt the lines around her mouth tighten at his evasion. “InuYasha, why didn’t you tell me?”

He blinked for a moment, then sighed, slumping back against the chair, his back hunching slightly in a defensive gesture. He sounded tired. “What are you doing here, Kagome?”

The question stung, and she blinked too, because the comment brought out the rush of tears to blur her vision. “I….” She hesitated, swallowing in an attempt to steady her voice. Drawing a deep breath, she let it out in a heavy, audible sigh. “I’ve seen what it can be like. Sometimes, at the orphanage, I stay with the children during their human time. Some of them have a hard time coping with it.” She hesitated, watching his still form through the shadows. “The little ones especially. They’re afraid, because they can’t hear, or see, or feel things the way they normally do. They don’t feel safe unless they have someone they trust to hold onto.”

“You think I need someone to hold me?” Disbelief and anger laced his voice.

She winced, and hoped he hadn’t seen it in the dark. “No! That’s not….” She hesitated again, searching for the right word, a sick feeling settling low in the pit of her stomach. “I just wanted you to know…that you’re not alone. Just in case you ever feel like….”

He said nothing, just regarded her silently as her voice trailed off into the tense air. The quiet dragged, and neither of them moved.

Kagome twisted her fingers together in front of her. The sick feeling rose like bile in the back of her throat. His lack of response was killing her. He was just sitting there, staring at her with wide, stunned eyes. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She’d felt better when he’d been yelling at her, rather than sitting there behind this imposing wall of silence. Anything would have been better than this silence.

It was obvious. He didn’t want her here.

Something inside snapped, and suddenly all she wanted to do was get away. “I….” The tears were back, angry and embarrassed, stinging painfully at the back of her eyes, but she fought them off by biting down hard on her tongue. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” She started for the door, her feet quick against the carpet, hurrying past the chair where he sat unmoving. “I’ll leave now.”

He sat up abruptly as she brushed by him. His hand darted out, and long fingers wrapped around her wrist, jerking her to a stop. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Shocked, she turned back to confront eyes that glared up at her through the dim light. “I thought you didn’t want--”

“Bah! If you think I’m letting you walk home this late at night you’re out of your mind. And I sure as hell ain’t goin’ anywhere tonight, so you’re stuck here.”

She stared at him as if he were the most bizarre creature she’d ever seen, her tears momentarily forgotten. “Stuck here?! I don’t need you to--”

The impatient snort that escaped his throat cut her off, and his fingers tightened warningly on her wrist. “You’re not leaving, and that’s final. Now shut up and listen.”

Something in his voice gave her pause, and she fell silent, staring at him with wide eyes.

When he finally spoke, his tone was harsh. He didn’t look at her, but kept his eyes staring straight ahead into the darkest corners of the room. “To me, the new moon is…. It’s like my brain shorts a fucking circuit. Nothing works right. My ears are stuffed with cotton. My nose is fucking dead. My body feels….”

He paused, and she stared at him, holding her breath. Her heart was pounding violently in her chest once more, this time with exhilaration, because she realized the importance of what he was telling her.

“Weak.” He spat the word out like it was a vile epithet, then fell silent for a few more moments. “I feel like a fucking--” He broke off, clamped his jaw tight, and gave a slight shake of his head. “I hate it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Did you think I wanted you to see me that way?”

He stopped talking, his frustration palpable. Kagome just stared at him with eyes soft with empathy and the faintest, joy-filled smile just starting to lift the corners of her mouth.

He hadn’t shut her out after all.

Before she could even begin to vocalize a reply, he heaved a loud, aggravated sigh, and his fingers tightened around her wrist in a sharp tug. With a gasp, Kagome stumbled forward. She collided with the soft arm of the chair, and was helped over it by a pair of strong hands on her waist. It happened almost faster than she could follow, and by the time she was able to get her bearings again, she was sitting sideways across his lap. Her legs were draped over his, her arms were caught snugly between his chest and hers, and his arms enclosed her in a loose embrace. She blinked up to find him staring down at her, the dark gray of his eyes serious.

“There’s not many people out there that I’ve deliberately let see me like this,” he said solemnly. “Two of them are dead. Two are in self-imposed exile.” He paused. “One of them is one of the only people I trust my back to in a fight,” his lip curled up in a faint, irritated snort, “so I guess I’ll miss the bastard after I kill him.”

Guilt tightened in her chest and her eyes dropped away from his. Miroku had been right. Everything was still so new between them; she should have just given him time to adjust before--

“And you.”

It took a moment for her to absorb his words through the remorse building in her system, but then her head snapped back up. “Me? But I barged in on you.”

She felt his shrug through her entire body. “Keh. I still chose to let you see me.” A hint of a frown tensed his dark brows. “I was going to show you eventually anyway.”

Her eyes rounded. “You were?”

He slanted her one of his familiar, irritated looks, and the cold knots in her stomach started to warm, to loosen and unravel. “It’s like you said. It’d be stupid to avoid you every month.” He considered for a moment, then added, sounding slightly put out, “Well, because of me, anyway.”

A furious blush warmed her entire face, and she glared at him, ready to rip him a new one for the inference. “InuYasha!”

A tiny smirk quirked the corners of his mouth, but he otherwise ignored her outrage. He stared at her for a moment, then his whole expression changed. The dark gray of his eyes softened; his gaze held to hers with a depth of vulnerability she hadn’t thought him capable of showing. “I’m glad you’re here, Kagome.”

Her breath caught. The quiet, sincere admission blew all the energy out of her pending tirade; the warmth brewing in her stomach blossomed and spread. An impulsive smile curved her lips. “Really?”

He nodded, and the smirk returned. “Now I don’t have to worry about dealing with all this shit next month.”

The comment was absent, almost flippant in nature, probably an effort at deflection, but Kagome just shook her head. Smile playing on her lips, she leaned forward, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek and tug him down. InuYasha came willingly, his mouth meeting hers halfway.

He surprised her. The kiss was uncharacteristically tame, almost tentative in nature, a greeting both soft and gentle. Swirling beneath the surface she caught snatches of the things he wasn’t saying out loud: his worry about telling her, the remorse he’d felt for keeping this from her, his overwhelming relief that she was here anyway--even a hint of frustration that she couldn’t interpret but was pleased to know was there.

Seeking to reassure him, she let her body melt around him, sliding her arms around his neck to bury her fingers in his hair. Her lips parted in blatant invitation, and he readily accepted. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her a little closer. Happiness welled up from deep inside her, and she pressed harder to him when his tongue curled around hers.

His hand reached up to lay against her cheek, a light grasp meant to hold her in place while his mouth explored hers. His fingers stroked a soft caress along the corner of her jaw. No faint claw scratches this time. She noticed their absence, and sighed softly into his mouth, running the sharpest points of her nails along his scalp. She felt him start, ever so slightly, at the impulsive act, and she paused, pulling back to blink at him. He quirked a black eyebrow in question, and with a tiny grin, she did it again, this time running her nails down to the middle of his chest.

Then she bent low and nipped at the faint scratch lines with her lips.

His breath caught roughly in his throat this time; her grin widened against his chest. His dark eyes narrowed, and he tugged her head back up for another kiss, then abruptly moved to nip sharply at her ear. She gasped, and the feel of his lips and teeth moved lower, to her lobe, nibbling at the soft skin. His tongue snaked out against the sensitive patch of skin right behind her ear. Her head tilted in reaction; she pressed her lips together to hold in a moan.

Her eyes slipped lower, to trace over the expanse of skin beneath her hands: shoulders, chest, arms, stomach, and the towel sitting loose on his hips, trapped in place by the weight of her body. He was sitting beneath her, practically naked, and his mouth was doing wonderful things to her ear. Anticipation joined the warmth heating up her belly.

Suddenly eager to reciprocate, she began laying kisses along his jaw and throat, dragging her lips curiously along his taut skin as she slowly but deliberately made her way downward. Her hands followed suit, caressing, and she had to wriggle around on his lap to allow for the movement. His breath was starting to get labored, a fact she noted with particular delight as she reacquainted herself with the contours of his body in the faint light of the living room.

His hands trailed along her back, smoothing over the soft material of her sweater. He gave a dissatisfied grunt, then tugged at the soft neckline of the covering. “Hey.”

She paused, her mouth against his chest, and peered up at him. “Hm?”

“Take this off.”

It was neither a request nor an order, which was unusual for him, but she just sat back and shrugged out of the sleeves of the sweater, letting the garment drop where it would, baring her arms in the short sleeves of her blouse. InuYasha seemed momentarily satisfied by this, because his hands immediately went to the skin of her arms, his fingers reaching to explore beneath the edges.

Kagome went back to his body, her own breath starting to come in shorter gasps. She could feel her skin growing sensitive, prickling all over as his hands and fingers skimmed over the bits of her already exposed and teased the bits of her still covered by the frustrating layers of her clothes. She bent a little lower and used her tongue along the center of his chest, a long swipe over skin that tasted warm and clean. His soft grunt made her smile in delight once again. His hand curled around her nape and he pulled her back up; his mouth crushed hers, and this time he didn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his tongue past her lips.

But she wasn’t quite willing to relinquish her examination of his body. Her fingers reached lower, smoothing over the tight planes of his lower stomach, just skimming over the rough material covering his hips and thighs. Then she let them wander a little farther, a brazen stroke along the hardness rising under the towel.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hips shifted, a faint push against the light touch, and she blinked. A whim flashed through her mind and showed itself in the impish curve of her lips.

Then, before he could react and before she could think about it, she slipped away from his grip and onto her knees in front of him. He stilled, staring down at her with dark, intense eyes. She pushed between his knees, settling her stomach comfortably against the edge of the chairs seat cushion, and she saw a flare of something almost primitive in them.

“Kagome….”

His voice was deeper than it had been a few minutes ago. She shushed him, and smoothed her hands along his thighs, her fingers edging underneath the towel.

He shushed.

With a faint smile, she pressed her fingertips into his skin, dragged them down his thighs, then pushed her palms back up. Slowly, she repeated the caress. This time the towel came loose around his hips.

He suddenly seemed to be having a hard time breathing.

She wrapped her hands in the towel and tugged, unwrapping the terry cloth like she would a present. He moved again, giving her the leeway she needed to get the cloth out from under him. Then he stilled, his entire body settling back against the chair, his breathing shallow and quiet.

Satisfied with the reaction, she turned her attention to the erection standing upright and proud right in front of her. Her heart jumped to her throat, pounding hard with an odd combination of anxiety and exhilaration.

For a moment, she hesitated.

She had no real idea of what she was doing. Mechanics were one thing--implementation another. Besides textbooks and basic general knowledge, the only things she had to rely on were the few--admittedly explicit--alcohol-influenced conversations she’d had with Sango in the years since she’d accepted Miroku as her fiancé. And--all references to lollipops and bananas aside--she was still relatively new to this whole sex thing.

“Just….” The voice that emerged from her throat was soft, shy. “Tell me if I do something wrong.”

He grunted out a sound that she took to be an affirmative.

Unable to bring herself to look up at him, she studied him with a clinical eye as her hands continued the slow, dragging strokes along his thighs. His attention, she knew, was focused exclusively and intensely on her--her every action, her every breath, her every sound--which was an entirely different sort of stimulation. Finally, tentatively, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the thickening organ.

His breath hissed audibly between his teeth, and she paused, eyes widening as she felt him pulse beneath her fingers. That queasy, anxious knot in the pit of her stomach resolved itself abruptly, unfurling with an electric snap that sent a shock of pleasure through her entire nervous system. Awestruck, she tightened her grip and stroked his length slowly, dragging her fingers up, then down, then loosening her grip to trail her fingers over the head.

This time, his breath whooshed out of him on a groan, and she felt his body tense, the muscles of his legs on either side of her going rigid. At the edges of her vision, his chest heaved slightly as he struggled to pull air into his lungs, and his hands gripped at the arms of the chair so hard that his fingers turned white. She gripped him again, this time wrapping both hands around his length and dragging her fingers harder against the hot, smooth skin. She was fascinated by the way it moved under her fingers, at the inflexibility of the tissue beneath.

“K-Kagome….” His voice was quiet, strangled, hoarse. Thick with lust, heavy with pleasure.

Her breath was suddenly coming in short, excited spurts. Every inch of her flesh felt alive and tingly; all her sensitive places were alert and throbbing. Her blood was pulsing thickly through her veins, oddly in sync with the beat under her fingers, and a melting, empty, liquid ache had made itself known from the center of her chest to the blood-heavy juncture between her legs. She almost moaned herself.

Wow.

She was reacting in direct proportion to his response to her touch. Amazing. Sango was right. Giving him pleasure was spurring her own.

She wanted more.

“You know,” she heard herself talking without really intending to say anything, her voice strangely contemplative, quietly awed. “Sex is an amazing process. The body goes through the most incredible things…. Things that I would prescribe medication for under different circumstances. But right now….”

She trailed off, leaning forward, brushing a kiss across the tip of his member, marveling at the scalding heat that met her sensitive lips, and dragged a finger along his length, searching for the rhythm of his blood. InuYasha’s breath hitched. “Your pulse is supposed to be that fast.” She almost smiled. “Your blood pressure should be through the roof.” A hard shudder ran through his body, and she sensed more than felt him shift slightly beneath her, giving her easier access.

Audibly, he swallowed and tried his voice again. “Kagome….”

She ignored the desperate rasp completely. “Blood vessels constrict and flow abnormally. Core body temperature rises drastically.” She licked her lips and placed another kiss--this one deliberately wet--where her thumb had just passed.

She pulled back just a bit and pressed her lips together, her breathing shallow as she considered the texture and feel of him. “And all that before orgasm. You wouldn’t believe what happens during.” Her words caused him to suck in a sharp breath, but before he had time to react, she parted her lips and fitted her mouth around the head of his erection, surrounding him with the warmth and wetness of her mouth and tongue.

“Ah!” His exclamation was more breath than sound, and one of his hands moved to rest against her head, tugging at the clip in her hair until it came loose. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and his fingers wove through the cool strands. At his gentle urging, she pushed down around him, careful of her teeth, and suckled experimentally.

He let out a soft, drawn-out groan.

She pulled back again and tilted her head to stare at the size of him. Her fingers continued their soft, lingering caresses while she rolled her tongue in her mouth, considering the musky taste of his skin. Such delicate, interesting skin, silky smooth and taut, while at the same time multi-textured with veins and ridges. Not beautiful, not ugly…just incredibly fascinating.

InuYasha growled a protest at the loss of her mouth, and even in his human form, the sound was…formidable. And arousing; heat and tension built inside her, and heated chills skittered across her skin at every uninhibited reaction he gave her. She glanced up at him, wanting to see if he looked as affected as he sounded.

He was staring down at her, expression absorbed and feverish, eyes heavy-lidded, half-shut with a drugged, helpless sort of pleasure. Their dark, charcoal gray met hers and widened, and she knew that her own gaze revealed the naked longing she felt with every fiber of her being.

Unexpectedly, Kagome felt like giggling, half-awed, half-exhilarated. Last week, her biggest concern with men was figuring out a way to dodge Kouga the next time he showed up at the clinic bearing flowers and overblown proposals of marriage. Tonight she was sitting on her knees in front of a naked hanyou, doing things she’d only contemplated in her most private of musings.

Was it really only a week since Sango had dragged her out of bed to tend to this battered hanyou with the adorable ears? Only a few days since that awful rogue attack, and the night she’d eagerly welcomed him into her bed, and her body? Had she really spent every night since curled up with a body heat not her own for the first time in her life?

It was as if she suddenly existed in a reality different from the one she’d lived most of her life knowing.

His black brows narrowed, and she watched him rally out of his haze with effort. His hand moved from its death-grip on the arm, and then he was brushing the hair off her forehead. Carefully. Hand trembling. “You…. You don’t have to, you know.”

The rough whisper of his voice was almost better than a physical caress, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and fought off a moan as a shiver slid down her spine. Her lids opened, and she met his gaze squarely. “I know,” She was surprised to hear her own voice suddenly capable of little more than a whisper. “I want to.”

Different…. But not bad.

Her eyes dropped away and she leaned forward again, returning her attention to his lap and the erection straining against her fingers. No…not bad at all, she decided with a sigh.

As the wind from her sigh brushed against his skin, he shuddered and gave a near-silent moan. Kagome smiled at the reaction he couldn’t hide--a slow, cat-like smile that curved sensually across her lips--and at the way the deepest, most sensitive parts of her body clenched in reaction to the pleasure obviously dominating his.

And took him into her mouth once again. Deeply this time--as deep as she dared--and sucking hard. Then she did it again, pulling in her cheeks and dragging her lips and tongue.

His grip on her hair tightened, the clutch just short of painful, and ragged gasp left his throat. She swirled her tongue wetly around his tip and got her first taste of the liquid that signified his impending relief. She found the taste, oddly enough, to be exactly what she expected: alkaline, bitter, extremely musky--and very much like him, as if someone had taken a part of his personality and converted it into liquid form.

He lost what little control he had, and his hips pushed up into her mouth as her name whispered past his lips once again. Her heart jolted, and an electrified thrill wrapped itself around her spine; but the half-thrust pushed him a little too deep, and she nearly gagged. She paused and pulled her head back to consider him, unsure if she was ready to take it all the way yet.

Her hesitation served to snap InuYasha once again out of the sexual fog her mouth had put him in, and his voice burst out with unexpected strength. “Enough!”

His hands released her hair. His fingers closed forcefully around her upper arms and he dragged her up onto his lap. She let out a yelp of protest, then promptly forgot why as his hands slid down, along her back and over her butt, grabbing the back of her thighs through her skirt and pulling her into a straddle over his lap. The aching crux between her legs, swollen and wanting for lack of attention, was suddenly brushing against the straining hardness between his, the only barrier between their flesh her thin skirt and the damp--very damp--fabric of her panties.

She arched her back, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders as she rubbed against him in an instinctive attempt to gain some relief.

His mouth found hers with bruising force, a fierce, plundering kiss of rich taste, and desperate longing. He feasted on her, a starving man suddenly provided with an abundance of sustenance. He suckled, rubbed against, and indulged in her mouth--and eventually, the kiss seemed to calm him just a bit, providing an outlet for his raging need to reciprocate, to assert, to participate in some way.

And then he was suddenly the one in control.

His hands, still behind her, were busy, bunching the material of her skirt in his fingers, yanking it up over the curves of hips and thighs to gather around her waist. Somehow, he secured it there, and then his hands were gliding over her skin once again, slipping downward, over rounded buttocks and in between spread legs to probe softly against the slick, molded cotton of her panties. Blunt fingertips pressed teasingly light strokes along her heat, the touch all the more maddening for the barrier dulling the sensations.

A quiet cry left her and she threw her head back, breaking away from his mouth to pant for much-needed air; he took it in stride, catching and tugging not-so-gently at her bottom lip with blunt human teeth, and nibbling his way downwards, scraping them along her jaw, then caressing along her neck with his lips and mouth and tongue. Her hands abandoned his shoulders to tunnel into the cool black locks of his hair as it fell free across his shoulders and against her overheated skin, pressing him closer. Her eyes drifted closed, and she moaned, low and soft in her throat.

Quite abruptly, his fingers abandoned their foray between her legs, and she almost wailed at the loss; but then they slipped beneath the flimsy elastic band holding the impediment of cloth between her legs. He paused for a moment to wiggle experimentally against the soft, rounded flesh of her hips, then tugged at them--only to find himself frustrated by their position on the chair, unable to remove them completely from her body with her thighs straddled so close across his.

Aggravated by the delay, he pushed his hands between the cotton and her skin, and his palms cupped over her hips, blunt fingertips pressing tight. “These,” his guttural voice rumbled against her throat, causing a brief shiver. “Get rid of them. Now.” His wrists flexed against the elastic band of the garment’s simple bikini cut. “Or I will.”

A small part of her noted the effort at restraint with a bit of surprise. So far, he hadn’t shown any consideration of her clothing. That he did tonight, right now of all times, was a bit of a shock. She appreciated it, she really did…. But….

Uh-uh. Her hips rolled against him, instinctively seeking harder contact with the stiffness between her thighs, and moaned as the pressure sent little ripples of pleasure through her system. No way am I leaving this spot. “Just rip them.” She could barely speak herself, her words breathless whispers of sound.

He didn’t wait for her to tell him again. He simply sat back--the action a small one, but enough to draw another whimper--and pulled her up onto her knees, bringing their faces close in the dimness surrounding them. She could feel his ragged breath against her lips and cheek, smelled the arousing musk of heat and sweat on his skin.

Again, she would have protested the loss of contact, but his eyes rose to meet hers. The dark charcoal color, narrowed with hunger and mind-numbing intent, caught at her dark blue. Her own breath snagged in her lungs at the intense, sensual turbulence in his gaze, and she found herself frozen, trapped, unable to move.

Then he took hold of one side of the garment with both hands; he twisted and yanked viciously, and her panties--brand new, if she recalled--began to tear, the thin elastic coming apart slowly but surely.

So, his strength was impressive, even in his human form. She had no objections to that.

The band snapped dully into the quiet, and he immediately dragged the now-useless cloth away from her hips, baring her intimately to the cooler air of the room. What remained of her panties were shoved down the thigh they still encircled and forgotten.

His hands gripped her hips.

Her eyes widened, still locked inescapably with his.

InuYasha….

His fingers tightened, tugging her hips downward, provoking the exquisite feel of stretching muscle as her body opened for him, accepted him completely in one smooth, gentle stroke. Her wetness, her warmth wrapped tightly around him as he settled deep inside her, letting gravity do most of the work. Her fingernails dug painfully into his scalp at the sudden, immense pressure within. Her lungs exploded, and she exhaled almost at the same time she inhaled, causing her to choke softly.

His eyes closed; a faint shudder wracked through the tautly strung lines of his body.

They opened, his dark gaze meeting hers shamelessly, and he leaned forward and placed his parted lips against her own until they were literally breathing into one another. And then she was moving against him. She couldn’t help it; her body just started rocking on its own, craving the intimate friction, the unique satisfaction of having him move within her.

InuYasha….

She was timid at first. Unsure of herself in such an unfamiliar position, she lifted and lowered awkwardly along his length--spurred on only by the shocks of pleasure that resulted from the slick slide of skin against skin. He helped her, his hands retaining their claim to her hips, and eventually guided her into a steady rhythm.

Once he was sure she was alright on her own, his hands slipped away from her hips, a guttural groan vibrating through his chest.

And then his mouth was covering hers completely, and his tongue was filling her mouth in the same manner as his body. She latched onto him gratefully, and her arms locked around his neck to press him as close and as hard as she could. Her body was already starting to move faster as she gained confidence; faint gasps and random moans echoed softly from her throat as her rational mind was slowly overwhelmed by the delicious, roiling tension building in her gut.

He parted from her for an instant, mumbling something rough and incoherent before returning to her mouth.

His hands moved again, his fingers bunching in her shirt. This time he didn’t bother wasting time or effort asking her, he just found her collar and ripped, sending buttons flying off into the darkness and leaving the edges of the blouse to hang open. The cups of her bra he simply pushed down and out of the way, using them as a prop for the soft bounce of her breasts as she moved around him. His palms covered her breasts, their warmth an added bonus. He stroked and played, drawing patterns into the soft, sensitive tissue, fingers rolling almost absently against the tight buds at their peaks.

She gave a tiny, shuddering cry of delight, and her eyes slipped shut as she pressed against his hands.

He broke their kiss abruptly and a soft, humanized growl rumbled from his throat. With a sharp bite to her chin, he reminded her that he didn’t like her attention to wander from him for very long when he was inside her. Her eyes snapped open, hazed with pleasure and need, and returned his unrelenting gaze with a glare for distracting her. In retaliation, she clamped her fingers in his hair, yanked his mouth insistently back to hers, and engaged him in a mini-duel of sharp nips and short, rough kisses--all the while rocking against him in increasing urgency.

He didn’t seem to mind. His hips were moving too now, meeting hers with sharp thrusts of his own, the look of mindless concentration on his face telling her how successful her earlier efforts to pleasure him had been. The deep, urgent noises that were emerging from his throat encouraged her to keep going.

Kagome loved it. She loved that she could do that to him, loved that she could make him look like that. Loved that she could make him sound like that.

Maybe even… Loved him….

The thought filtered through her mind, then slipped away just as quickly. Some distant part of her took note, and tucked it away for further study later. Later, when she wasn’t so distracted by other things. Like what he was doing to her right now.

His hands left her breasts to wander, sliding over skin that had grown sleek with the fine sheen of exertion. They skimmed softly over all her sensitive places--the indent of her belly button, that tiny spot behind her ear, the sides of her ribcage--exercising his still-newly-acquired familiarity with her body. Each touch, every lingering caress drew an unwitting whimper or moan from her throat. His fingers spread across her back under the cover of her shirt, one heel pressing high against the indent of her spine and the other slipping lower to push against the small of her back.

Urging her to move harder. Demanding she go faster.

The tension in her belly grew, twisting and coiling, driving her further along the mindless path of pleasure. Her muscles, her thighs and calves, burned with strain and exertion from the awkward position, but she ignored them. Her lungs heaved as she panted for air. Breathing was a minor concern, a distant second to attaining release from the building pressure, insignificant next to the delightful, wet resistance of soft tissue to hardened member.

And she was close--close enough that she was losing her grasp on reality. Emotion built in her chest, from somewhere deep within, a knot of incredible, mixed-up feelings clamoring to get out. It was thick and strong and vibrant; it spread through her in a literal rush of sparkling energy, built behind her eyes, gathered in her mouth. It spilled over, bled out from within, through her fingertips, through her toes. She felt encased in a crackling, energized warmth, skin overly sensitized, consciousness balancing precariously on the razor’s edge of delirium.

And all of it, she knew instinctively, was tied directly to him.

His name left her lips on a gasping shriek, and he responded in kind, her name a garbled, animalistic rasp. Then she felt him suddenly hesitate beneath her--felt him freeze and suck in a sharp breath. The rhythm of his hips beneath her faltered; hers broke entirely, and she felt herself pulled back to reality.

The blinding whirl of energy coursing through her cut off, and her eyes flew open, unseeing in the darkness. Kagome was faintly surprised to find herself wide-eyed and focused on the ceiling. She hadn’t even realized that she’d reared back and thrown her face back, hadn’t realized that she’d had her eyes closed until she’d opened them. They flew back to his.

He was staring at her, his eyes wide, awestruck, stunned.

Stunned…. Why stunned?

In the ragged silence, they stared at each other through the shadows.

Though he’d stopped, her hips still rolled, still ground hard around the hot, throbbing part of him buried so prominently within the clasp of her body. Confused, frustrated, desperate, she pushed her sweat-slick forehead against his and nearly sobbed aloud.

“You stopped.” She wanted this so badly she could barely breathe. “Why’d you stop?”

She felt the wayward brush of his fingers across the hot skin of her cheek.

“You….” He panted it out, sounding choked, bewildered--disturbed even. “That light….”

She waited an entire three seconds for him to explain, then decided she didn’t give a damn. “Don’t stop….” Her hips bucked against his, urgently; her inner muscles contracted, a deliberate caress. “Please!”

His eyes closed in a grimace, and she saw his teeth grit. He ground out on a faint, pained-sounding groan. “Fuck…”

Then his hand tunneled into the hair that fell loose and wild about her face, his features hard, concentrated, determined. He tugged, and his fierce grip forced her back to him, forced her lips back to his. The pressure of his mouth crushed against hers, and she yelped--not in protest, only approval--as the movement pressed him deeper, harder, into her body.

She felt his free hand drop down along the front of her body, grazing across the sensitive skin of the lowest parts of her belly.

Then even lower, into the slick heat of her sex.

His fingers found the tiny, rigid bundle of nerves, and flicked gently across it.

She jerked at the sharp jolt of intense, pleasurable sensation. His clawless fingers rolled and pressed, circled teasingly around the responsive nub; this time she did sob, directly into his mouth. Her hands grabbed at the sides of his face, her nails dug into the skin of his cheeks and jaw, and she was suddenly pressing her mouth against him so hard that the hand that gripped her hair was superfluous. And then she was wailing loudly into the room as her head fell back, her body locked in paroxysms of euphoria as her inner muscles twitched and convulsed around him in the hard, relentless grip of orgasm.

Somewhere, faintly, she heard him gasp her name--that unknowing, unwilling sound of helplessness that escapes when the brain is too caught up to notice what the mouth is doing--and his hands were back on her hips. His fingers dug hard, unforgiving lines into the soft flesh of her bottom as he took over for her, ramming his body into hers with several short hard thrusts. His face pressed against her neck, and with one last forceful upward plunge, she felt gratifying rush of his release deep within her. His arms clamped down across her back and held her close, so tightly she could barely breathe, as shudders and spasms wracked violently through him.

And then they were quiet, content just to cling to each other in the peace of the night. Two bodies gasped and heaved, seeking both air and sanity in the darkness as they waited for the return of a normal heartbeat. Kagome rested her weary cheek against his shoulder, her body a dead weight draped atop his. InuYasha’s hand had made its way to the wildly tangled strands of her hair, and his fingers combed absently through the mass over her back.

Eventually, he stirred beneath her. His lips parted against her neck, and his lazy voice drifted along her skin. “Hey, Kagome….You awake?”

“Mmmm.”

Another few seconds of silence ensued.

“We should probably move.”

Kagome drew a deep breath and sighed, but didn’t go to the trouble of lifting her head off his shoulder. He was absolutely right, of course. She could already feel certain parts of her anatomy--her hips in particular--getting sore, protesting the abnormal amount of stretching her straddled pose put them through. Unfortunately, they refused to move and do something about it. The sentiment was good, but the energy just wasn’t there.

She didn’t even budge.

InuYasha, for his part, didn’t seem all that inclined to take his own advice; the only movement he’d actually engaged in was placing random, soothing nibbles along the curve of her shoulder. With another contented sigh, this one silent, her eyelids started to droop.

He stirred a little more, his arms shifting slightly around her back. “Think you can stand?”

She roused, blinking at the question. “I….” With some effort, she wriggled her hips experimentally. He was still buried inside of her, and the movement produced the most interesting sensations--though her thigh muscles trembled weakly in protest. She felt his teeth graze her neck in reaction, and her voice dropped to a faint, breathless half-moan. “Think so.”

He grunted, but didn’t say anything.

More silence.

She felt movement again as his head lifted from her shoulder. He glanced around. She could almost see the baffled, mildly irritated furrow of his brow in the tone of his voice. “Kagome?”

“Hmm?” Idly, she dropped a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“What the hell did you do with my towel?”

“Towel?” She paused. What towel? Bemused, she thought about it for a few moments, then giggled when it finally hit her. “I’m not sure--I don’t remember taking it off. Check the floor.”

He snorted, the sound an odd combination of a laugh and a grousing “keh”, then sighed. “Come on. We have to get up. Neither of us will be happy if we’re still in this damn chair tomorrow morning.”

Another sigh left her throat, this one of reluctant acceptance, and she obliged him by shifting around on his lap. They untangled from each other slowly, InuYasha pushing her into a standing position, then coming right up behind her when her legs trembled threateningly. He put a steadying hand against her waist, glancing around at the floor surrounding the chair as she hastily pulled and pushed what remained of her clothes into some semblance of decency. Her blouse hung loose and open around her, but at least her bra was intact, and even though they currently felt a bit too sensitive for confinement, she tucked her breasts out of sight rather than engage in an awkward fight with the catch around her back. After all, it was one thing to have them bouncing during sex--it was quite another to have them bouncing around in general.

She didn’t spare more than a passing grimace to her panties as the remainder of the garment slid down her calf and she kicked it off to the side. A heated blush colored her cheeks. She could think about that later.

InuYasha had found his towel and he hastily re-wrapped the covering around his hips before he grabbed her hand and started across the carpet. “Come on.”

She blinked at the shadows of his naked back. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t stop to look back. “You wanna see the place or not?”

She blinked again, then felt a faint smile turn her lips up. She didn’t speak, but curled her fingers tightly around his to let him know she was definitely willing to see whatever he wanted to show her. His own fingers gave a brief squeeze in acknowledgement, but he didn’t turn around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, he didn’t turn around until she stumbled. She couldn’t really see in the dark, and her leg muscles weren’t exactly the most reliable things in the world right now. He stopped to steady her, shook his head, and tugged her along towards the hallway leading further into the apartment. Halfway down the hallway, she stumbled again, and that time he turned to scowl at her.

After her third stumble, he muttered something mildly insulting about ‘human females’ and ‘stamina’ before he simply turned and plucked her up in his arms, bridal style. Without another word, he carried her into the bathroom, and--to her blushing dismay--helped her clean up. She got her first real good look at his human form in the light, and she spent several minutes--much to his blushing dismay--taking in his coloring and running her fingers over his features, especially his human ears.

“I think,” she murmured as she traced the soft outer shell of one with her fingers, “that I like your other ears better.” She gave him an impish grin. “They’re cuter.”

She thought she detected a faint blush before he snorted and turned away, not even bothering to deign that comment with a response.

After he was satisfied that she was recovered enough to walk on her own, he took her hand and dragged her along the carpet once again. He didn’t stop until they reached the open door at the very end of the hallway. He stood stock-still for a breath of time, then gave her a solemn look and stepped back. “This one’s mine.”

Faintly confused, she furrowed her brows at him. He ignored the look and just stood there, staring at her expectantly. After a moment’s hesitation, Kagome drew a soft breath, and with a minor shrug, stepped past him into the room.

It was a large room, carpeted like the rest of the apartment, and sparsely furnished. Directly across from the door was a long series of windows that reached from the floor to halfway up the walls, currently covered in off-white drapes. But what really caught her attention was the furnishing set up off to the side.

Her eyebrows shot up as she gaped. “That’s your bed?”

His frown returned, and he gave a half-hearted shrug. “It came with the apartment.”

It was immense by anyone’s standards: a four-poster bed with the four wooden posts currently removed, the largest mattress--covered in surprisingly neatly-made up bed covers--Kagome had ever seen, and carved wooden feet that rested on a dais that rose a half-step up off the floor. It was positively opulent. Nothing like what she’d expected someone like him to have.

She blinked at it for a second, then turned to give him an odd look. “It’s very…big.”

InuYasha shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I told you, it came with the apartment.”

“You mean it was already here?”

“Yeah.” He looked mildly peeved, then gave a rough sigh. “A few years ago, I took care of a rogue that was trying to get into this place. Right after I beat the damn thing, the old witch brought me up here and said I could live here as long as I kept the bed.” He shifted again, then scowled at the bed. “It was a good deal, so I took it.” His nose twitched in faint disgust. “I just had the old mattress burned. Keeping the frame was less hassle than moving it out anyway.”

“The landlady wanted you to keep it?” She sent a thoughtful look at the bed, putting a finger to her chin. “I wonder why?”

A faint snort. “I didn’t ask. Don’t want to know.”

“Hmm.” Kagome walked over to the bed and took the small step up onto the dais so she could rest her hand on the bedding. Thick. Cool to the touch. It reminded her of her favorite comforter. “She didn’t mind you burning the mattress?”

That hint of disgust was back in his tone. “She insisted. Said she didn’t want me smelling things that were none of my business.” The disgust was joined was joined by a shade of horror. “I wouldn’t even touch the damn thing after that. Jinenji had to do it.”

Kagome choked back a sudden giggle, and turned back to him, laughter dancing in the blue depths of her gaze. “Well, I’m glad you kept it. I like it.”

“You would.” But his expression had softened just a little. His feet moved silently across the carpet, and then his hands grasped gently around her waist. She found herself lifted up onto the edge of the mattress and trapped in place by the arms and body of the temporarily human male in front of her. His lips pressed against hers in a soft, closed-mouth kiss.

She barely had time to slide her arms against his shoulders before he pulled away and frowned at her. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”

Dark, shapely eyebrows furrowed to send him a measuring look. “Are you going to sleep tonight?”

He didn’t even have to answer; his hesitation was enough. She smiled. “Then neither will I.”

InuYasha’s eyes--those lovely, charcoal-colored eyes--widened slightly. For a moment, he just stared at her without a word. Then his eyes narrowed skeptically. “You’re going to stay up all night?”

The laughter faded from her expression, though the smile remained playing across her lips. “I told you--I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

It took a moment, but he finally responded with one of those rare, genuine smiles that put a faint curve to his lips, sending a warm little thrill skittering through her belly. His skepticism remained, though, and his eyes sparked with challenge. “Hah. You won’t make it to sunrise.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s when you turn back, right?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

“Then I will.” She immediately took him up on his challenge.

Unexpectedly, he grinned. “We’ll see.” He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose in her hair. “So… What do you want to do now?”

Kagome grinned impishly. “Hm. I don’t know.” She let her hands drift downward, stroking idly along his chest. “Let’s…. Talk about Miroku’s rare book collection.”

He drew back in surprise, black brows twisting in mild annoyance. “What? Rare books? I don’t want to talk about….” He trailed off as he took in her significant grin. “Oh. That collection.” A second later, his scowl was back in displeased force. “Hey. How the hell do you know about that?”

Her lips twitched. “I was the one who helped Sango find his birthday present last year. I read through a lot of ancient texts trying to find the right one.”

His eyes widened, and she could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. “You…read them?”

She nodded, feeling smug. “Yep. In fact, I’ve helped her pick out all of Miroku’s presents since the year they were announced.”

For a minute, he looked like he was choking on something. “So Sango got him those books…. And you…..” He blinked in bemusement. “Every year?”

She nodded again.

A moment of silence.

Then, “So how much of those books do you remember?”

She pretended to think a moment while he stared at her, the intensity in his eyes heating up by slow degrees. “It’s been a while, but I think I can remember a lot.” She stopped, then solemnly watched his hands move up to finger her collar restlessly. “But that’s only what I want to do. What do you want to do?”

“Talk about Miroku’s rare book collection.” He responded swiftly, obediently, and without hesitation as he stripped the blouse from her shoulders. “Tell me everything you got.”

With a delighted grin, she obliged him.

Much to her satisfaction, Kagome made it all the way to sunrise without falling asleep once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A /N: I feel very accomplished right now. I have been nipping and snipping, cutting and patching, and pulling out my hair over this chapter for months now. I have finally reached the point where I am happy with it. And now I get to post! And it’s a lemon! Wee! *happy dance*

Psst. Hey, Blackberry, come on out here. Okay, now everyone else--proceed with the standing ovation. This story wouldn’t be what it is without your wonderful betaing. Thanks a million.

Thanks much to all the wonderfully patient readers out there who still follow the words of this fic (and I think we‘ve established that one must be patient to be one of my readers, much to my chagrin). It really means a lot to me that I can keep you entertained even for a small amount of time.

Next chapter’s all about Kagome and the family and the shrine. Isn’t that wonderful? ^_^

Cheers and blessings to all,

Quill