UnBound Memories

A/N: Sorry it has taken so long to update. I had this scene written out on my last computer, and re-writing it proved harder than actually going about it for the first time. I appreciate the reviews, and as you can ask anyone who's been reviewing my FMA fic, reviews push me to write faster. Thanks so much for reading.

Chapter 17

That Thought Seemed Perfect

That day was remarkably hard on Sesshomaru, and he wondered if the same was true for Miroku. It was frustrating to know that the man who had been so delicate, so affectionate with him that morning was at all times within reach, and yet there was nothing he could do about it. Worse yet, the monk seemed to take pleasure in teasing the demon, as he must have realized the difficulty the usually reserved demon was having remaining so.

At one point, two young women passed them, commenting to Miroku that they thought it was nice that he was not intimidated by dating a woman so much taller than him. Sesshomaru had tensed, halting, ready to strike, anger growing at his own embarrassment as the two children ahead of him laughed.

“Well, I am quite confident in myself,” Miroku answered, taking Sesshomaru’s hand in his, pulling the fuming demon away.

“You did not correct them,” Sesshomaru said as he pulled his hand from Miroku’s.

“They cannot be the first to mistake you for a woman.”

“They are the first to say so and live.”

“Come on, Shippo, Rin. We should take Lady Sesshomaru to see a show in the park.” Miroku latched his arm to the demon’s and pulled him forward to a park where a Chinese Kung Fu presentation was being held.

Two of the young men demonstrating were having a battle with staffs, and when one was victorious, he addressed the crowd, asking if anyone dared to volunteer. Sesshomaru shoved Miroku forward, telling the reluctant volunteer, “Just do not kill him.”

The kung fu expert tossed a staff to Miroku. “As you are just an audience member, I will take it easy on you.”

Miroku looked at the staff, whipping and manipulating it with graceful skill. “I think I will be fine. It is simply a little lighter than I am accustomed to.” Before beginning the battle by taking his stance, Miroku pulled his prayer beads out of his pocket, wrapping them around his right wrist and hand, apparently making sure he didn’t accidentally set the wind tunnel free during battle.

The battle was quite remarkable, as the man fighting Miroku had to instantly change his technique for facing a more skilled opponent. Still, it was obvious to Sesshomaru that this man was nothing compared to the agile monk. His human was strong, fast, and far superior to his opponent.

Sesshomaru found heat rising to his face as he fought not to shout out and cheer his Miroku on. That stunned him; he was thinking of Miroku as his. They had shared an enjoyable morning, to say the least, but he couldn’t believe how quickly he had begun to think of the human this way. As the first since Jin to capture such thoughts in the inuyoukai, it excited and frightened Sesshomaru more than he could explain.

So far, he had been able to hide his insecurities, but he wasn’t quite sure how much longer that would be possible. The mind link had apparently sped up Miroku’s affection for him--it certainly had the man’s lust--and Sesshomaru found it difficult to control himself, to take things slow. Right now, watching Miroku fight this friendly spar, Sesshomaru was resisting the urge to jump him like a dog in heat. Sesshomaru suddenly began to regret the constrictiveness and lack of coverage of this period’s clothes as he clamped his legs shut.

Sesshomaru could little help the proud swelling in his chest or the smile on his face that seemed to come involuntarily as Miroku stood over the supposed expert, staff at the man’s throat, applause sounding from every direction.

“Get your friend up there!” someone yelled.

“He volunteered you. See how he fights.”

Miroku looked over to Sesshomaru. “I do not fight with staffs.”

“Hand to hand, then?” Miroku suggested.

With some goading form the crowd, Sesshomaru agreed, knowing hand to hand with no demonic or spiritual powers involved was no more his area than it was the monk’s, and the show would hardly be entertaining for the crowd as these two novices fought it out.

Still, as the two began to do battle, Sesshomaru found instinct taking over. He had to dominate, had to show that he was the alpha. Hand to hand may not have been either’s strong point, but Miroku didn’t stand a chance against Sesshomaru driven on by his youkai. The only thing that threatened to hinder the demon in battle was the fact that his senses could not fail to notice and be distracted by the arousal coming from the monk, mirroring and driving on his own.

The spar lasted long enough that the crowd was cheering, but it became obvious it was at its end as Sesshomaru landed on top of Miroku, hands and legs binding hands and legs. Miroku turned his head to the side and exposed his neck to the inu. It was an act of submission, but surely the human could never have known that. Sesshomaru began to back off of the man below when Miroku leaned upward and whispered, “Maybe we should try this position again sometime.”

“Hentai,” Sesshomaru said, moving from the monk as quickly as he could, taking Rin’s hand in his own and walking away. Miroku followed behind, Shippo in his own arms.

“What did I say?” Miroku asked.

Sesshomaru didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. After all, this morning, hadn’t they kissed, groped one another? Hadn’t they suggested, no matter how jokingly that they join one another bathing? Why was this different?

It was different because they both wanted it. Different because this time feelings had surfaced that should have stayed buried, feelings that Sesshomaru had only ever felt for one man before, a man who had betrayed him as none before or after. Now, Sesshomaru felt the old sensations returned for the houshi with the strange eyes.

“I am sorry if I said something too soon.” Miroku said, putting his hand at the demon’s shoulder blade. “We have all the time in the world.” The feeling of Miroku’s still-beaded hand on his back relaxed Sesshomaru a bit.

“Houshi-sama?” Rin asked from below. “Will you hold Rin’s hand?”

Miroku shifted to Sesshomaru’s right so he could take Rin’s hand, while Shippo seemed quite content to ride on his shoulders, a foot on either side of his neck, tiny hands curling into his black hair.

A man with spiked blue hair approached the group, handing Seshshomaru and Miroku two pieces of paper, saying, “Tomorrow night we are having a dinner/dance special. I think the two of you might enjoy it.” With a smile, the man ran off through the crowded Tokyo streets, handing out a few of those papers to select people.
Sesshomaru looked down at the pink paper, seeing it was the name and address of a restaurant called “Mind.” He looked over to Miroku, who only shrugged a bit. Both placed the papers in their pockets, walking back to their apartment.

********

Miroku had never been one to be impatient, but he couldn’t help being anxious waiting for the two children to finally go to sleep, not that he was exactly sure what would happen once they did. Everything had been cordial between Sesshomaru and himself since their battle in the park. Was the demon upset because Miroku had actually put up a fight? Was he too uncomfortable with the pace at which their relationship was moving?

Relationship? Was that what Miroku wanted? Perhaps even he needed for things to slow down.

Miroku waited in the hallway for Sesshomaru while the demon lord tucked Rin in. Sesshomaru exited the room, pulling the braid from his hair, running his long clawed fingers through it, pulling out the twists that left his silky hair lying in waves down his back.

“You are waiting on me?” he asked as he tossed his hair, then scratched at his scalp.

“Yes, I…” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I didn’t know if tonight, what you would want…”

Sesshomaru stepped to Miroku, running his claws along the monk’s cheekbone, sending a faint shiver through Miroku’s spine. Looking up at the beautiful demon in front of him, Miroku tilted his head upwards further, placing a hand on the one that touched his face. He almost held his breath as the demon leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips, gently sucking on Miroku’s bottom lip as he did.

“Monk, I…”

“Please don’t call me monk. I have all but given up that title.”

“Miroku.” The man smiled up at the demon. “I do not know how far I am going to want to take this.”

Miroku brought his other hand behind the demon’s neck. “I would never press you.” He pulled the tall creature down to meet his forehead. “But I want you to know that I am willing to go however far you want to take this.”

Sesshomaru reached for the door to his bedroom, opening it as he did. “Perhaps it is wise to take this somewhere that the children won’t accidentally appear.”

Moving together, not wanting to take their arms from the other, the two moved into Sesshomaru’s bedroom. The demon closed the door and began exploring Miroku’s mouth, exploring every inch of the willing man’s orifice with his tongue. To get better access, Sesshomaru tilted his head, which Miroku took advantage of, but not fighting the demon for dominance. Miroku wanted to allow the daiyoukai the opportunity to guide this, to decide just how far he was comfortable with. As the long, foreign tongue in Miroku’s mouth began to move, he moaned and trembled. This felt right, letting the demon be in control.

When Sesshomaru began tugging at Miroku’s sweater, he didn’t fight, though he was immensely surprised that the demon was willing to at least go this far. For just an instant, they broke their kiss to finish removing the sweater, and Miroku grabbed Sesshomaru’s hands to touch against his now bare skin. He wanted to feel those hands, still unevenly callused, rubbing against his back and sides. He nearly gasped as the demon bent down to kiss his neck and collarbone, the pointed fangs grazing against Miroku’s somewhat tender skin. For some unexplainable reason, he wanted to beg the demon to sink those fangs in, to bite him.

To claim him.

That was what it meant to have a demon bite him there during acts of intimacy. It would mean Miroku would be claimed, would belong to the demon for life as his mate. And that thought seemed perfect.

“Sesshomaru, would you allow me to remove your shirt? I feel things are a bit…” Miroku’s train of thought dwindled as Sesshomaru captured one of his nipples between his teeth. “uneven.”

Sesshomaru grabbed Miroku’s arms and guided them to his collar, a silent instruction to begin unbuttoning the brown shirt. The human began moving as quickly as he could, his hands trembling as he fought with each of the restraints. Miroku finally managed to get each button open, and slid his hands beneath the shirt, running them over each and every rippling muscle before guiding the shirt down the demon’s shoulders.

As the shirt felt to the floor, Miroku pressed his body against Sesshomaru’s enjoying the sensation of the demon’s thick yet soft skin against his own smooth body. He began sucking and nibbling at the shoulder and collarbone in front of him.

“So eager,” Sesshomaru growled, dipping down and once again capturing Miroku’s mouth. The kiss could have gone on forever, as far as the man was concerned, but it was cut off by the feeling of the bed hitting the back of his legs, knocking them out from beneath him.

His eyes glazing over in lust, Miroku looked up at the demon, grasping at the waistband of demon’s pants. Unfastening the buckle of his belt, the button and zipper, all the while looking up at Sesshomaru, waiting for some sign he’d gone too far. The demon seemed to be just as lost in his lust to consider anything beyond the moment and Miroku eagerly eye level with his fly. Miroku pulled the pants and boxers down, and found himself face to face with a very large very erect demon member. Now that he had it in front of him, Miroku paused trying to remember what exactly to do with it. He’d been with women before, but never a man, and while he was familiar with this aspect of sex, he had always been on the receiving end.

He grasped the member, perhaps a bit too firmly as it evoked a grunt from the demon, and brought his mouth to the leaking phallus, sticking out a tongue to taste the object in front of him. It tasted bitter, not too unpleasantly so, and he felt he could at least attempt to continue. Opening his mouth wide enough to take in the rather large head, he began sucking on it, treating it as he would one of those lollipops Kagome had once brought back with her.

He moved his head further, trying to take as much of it as he could, becoming a little overzealous as the shaft hit the back of his throat and triggered his gag reflex.

“You do not have to,” Sesshomaru said amid shudders.

Miroku made no verbal reply, deciding to take this far more seriously, keeping his tongue out of play unless he was nearer the tip, taking in as much of the demon as he could, promising himself he would improve his ability with as much practice as the demon would allow him. The former monk began bobbing his head, as Sesshomaru laced those clawed fingers into his hair. Sesshomaru’s hips began to try to thrust into Miroku’s mouth, once again making him feel like he was about to retch and forcing him to place a hand at either of the demon lord’s hips, holding them in place. That struggle was one he almost thought he wouldn’t win, as the demon’s determination nearly outweighed Miroku’s strength.

The former monk began increasing the speed, moving one hand to the demon’s testicles, rolling them around in his left hand, while his right hand firmly told Sesshomaru not to try to jerk his hips again pressing into the demon‘s flesh with his thumb.

He could feel the muscles in Sesshomaru’s cock beginning to tighten, and Miroku did his best to move his head toward the tip of the large cock. With a single flick of his tongue along the slit, he heard Sesshomaru howl something that sounded like his name and felt the warm rush as the hot white fluid filled Miroku’s mouth. Much as he tried to swallow it all, some of the substance began to leak out of the sides. He slowly pulled his head away from the demon’s now limp penis, using his tongue to gather up the remaining bits of cum flowing from the corners of his mouth as Sesshomaru collapsed to his knees in front of him.

“That… was… incredible,” Ssesshomaru said between gasps. The demon looked prepared to return the favor, his hands, still weak and boneless from his orgasm struggling with Miroku’s pants. For just a split second, the human could see fear in the demon’s eyes once faced with Miroku’s erect and aching manhood.

“No, Sesshomaru, you aren’t ready,” Miroku said, using all of the self-control he had not to say something to egg the demon on. “I can take care of this myself.”

In shock, Miroku felt as Sesshomaru grabbed hold of his member and began moving his hand up and down the shaft in a slow and steady rhythm. His pace sped up, his claws lightly making contact with the sensitive underside, then seeming to vanish, kept out of play, as though trying to protect Miroku from being hurt as he continued to give Miroku the best hand job of his life.

Miroku could feel his climax approaching very quickly, hardly believing that the most powerful demon in the entire world was actually pleasuring him.

“Sesshomaru, I’m going to…”

“That would be the point,” the demon said with a cocky grin, a smile that pushed Miroku over his edge.

“Oh Kami, Sesshomaru!” Miroku shot into the demon’s hand and down his own thigh.

Sesshomaru bent down, licking his way from Miroku’s knee, following the path of Miroku’s release, placing a kiss on the spent member, then moving to his own hand, cleaning off every remainder of the man’s essence, all the while trying to look as though he enjoyed it, though Miroku could tell in his afterglow haze that the demon lord found it no less bitter than he had.

Miroku collapsed on the bed, Sesshomaru joining him at his side, wrapping his body around the former monk’s, and pulling him in for one final kiss before both were finally drifting off into sleep.