Interest

A/N all righty, the next chapter - thanks for the comments, ya'll. Glad you're enjoying it. This one...it's a bit more disjointed. Written in three bursts, but, well...I only have four more chapters left after this. Had to get it all in! ;-) I'll see if I can post the next chapter tonight, too.

Summary: On the way home
Theme: Thoughts


All the following warnings MAY apply to all chapters, but WILL apply at sometime in the story: MPREG, anal, oral, humor, N/C, H/C, hand job, blow job, WAFF, M/M, Rim, Spanking (mild)


Chapter 20 - Thoughts

Travel through the countryside, especially during chaotic times like theirs, always contained certain risks. The risk of thieves, the risk of getting caught in a battle, the risk of angry farmers or townsmen who discovered a con too early in the game.

Miroku was certain, however, that Japan was not as dangerous as Inuyasha seemed to think it was.

No where was as dangerous as that.

As Miroku huddled in the rain underneath the heavy boughs of a pine, he was certain that Inuyasha’s paranoia was far more dangerous to him than any thief or soldier. If it weren’t for the hanyou’s overprotective, overbearing behavior, Miroku might have been enjoying a warm room with a dry bed and plentiful food. But since they’d left Kouga’s, the moment they approached people – even one person – Inuyasha’s eyes turned crimson. He’d been dragging Miroku away from humans and demons alike for almost a week now.

Miroku would have given him credit for his protective impulses if they didn’t always result in cruder conditions.

Inuyasha might try to make the best of things, but there was simply no way that moss covered ground was as soft as a silk covered futon. And it made no difference that Inuyasha suffered along with Miroku; barbarism made little to no impact on the hanyou. If he didn’t suffer as Miroku did, it simply didn’t seem fair.

Miroku shivered and Inuyasha hugged him closer. Inuyasha was getting the worst of the rain as he covered up as much of Miroku as he could reach, the heat of his body soaking into Miroku’s skin where he sheltered him from the cold.

Miroku tried to hold onto his anger, but even cold as he was, it was difficult. Heavy and solid above him, Inuyasha was slicked with rain, holding Miroku in the aftermath of their most recent lovemaking. The pleasure stayed with Miroku longer every time, an intimate connection that burrowed into his being.

He was worried it was burrowing into his soul. And if that happened, it could ruin everything between them. Miroku’s growing awareness was not echoed by Inuyasha. He was certain of it. This odd bond between them only existed in the hanyou’s aggressive, primeval half.

It was worrying that Miroku wanted to believe Inuyasha wasn’t possessed by his demon every time they had intercourse now, however. The gentleness, the sensuality, the softness of clawed hands as they played with his skin – it made Miroku remember Inuyasha from before.

He’d never forgotten the way Inuyasha used to watch Kagome when she slept, with such a look of adoration that Miroku usually had to turn away. It was how someone would watch something…precious

So when Inuyasha had carried Miroku away from a group of soldiers stamping down the trail, holding him gently in his arms, Miroku wondered. The hanyou found them as much shelter as was possible, stripped Miroku, and took him with near-reverence.

He was like that all the time, now. In the aftermath, Miroku always struggled with the urge to look back and find Inuyasha’s eyes. They had to be gold, with such care, didn’t they?

Miroku turned his head, rain dripping down his forehead and onto the thick moss underneath him, and stared into eyes an oddly rosy goldenrod. Stripes were soft pastel flares on Inuyasha’s cheeks. Inuyasha grunted as he caught Miroku’s stare and nuzzled his cheek, planting his groin more firmly against Miroku’s ass as though he were reminding them both what had completed so recently.

With a swallow, and a small sensual shiver from the cold of the water mixing with the heat of Inuyasha’s body, Miroku laid his head back on the moss. Those eyes weren’t fully gold, but it didn’t seem to matter. He couldn’t stop the feeling of connection spreading over his skin along with the heat.

He was exhausted from the sex, the cold, from fighting this all the time. All he wanted was to sleep, even if the comfort he felt was an illusion.

Inuyasha nuzzled the back of his neck, a heated lick that cleared his neck of the cold drip that had leaked from Miroku’s hair. His next shiver had nothing to do with the cold, amoral lecher that he was. Miroku might not appreciate pain, but he adored sex; always had, always would. His position and relative dominance during the act seemed to have no relation to his enjoyment of it.

He chuckled bleakly against the moss. Perhaps that was a good thing. The scent of pregnancy was still as strong as ever, according to Inuyasha’s daily grumblings, and Inuyasha’s sexual interest seemed almost as strong. Miroku would be intimate with his friend whether he enjoyed it or not.

And after a week of this sort of intercourse, he most definitely enjoyed it. Looked forward to it. Craved the feel of Inuyasha’s fingers over his skin. He was even becoming accustomed to the constant feeding – his appetite seemed to be changing to accommodate Inuyasha’s compulsive hunting and gathering.

But what was he going to do once Inuyasha stopped his behavior and regained himself completely? When Inuyasha remembered quite clearly that Miroku was a companion, not a lover. When he no longer looked at him this way?

Inuyasha licked moisture from his shoulder and Miroku swallowed. Following his worst impulse, as he almost always did, he pushed back with his hips. He craved the tight feeling of the hanyou against his body, the reassuring hand that came around his middle to hug him closer, like he knew it would.

He might be ashamed of himself later, but he could do this now, when Inuyasha was still not in control of his youkai. He knew exactly what would happen, like an old couple who could read a raised eyebrow as completely as an hour long speech.

And if this disappeared as suddenly as it had blossomed in their lives, then…they would still have their friendship. Miroku would adjust.

He was very good at that.

And Inuyasha was very good at this, he thought, arching underneath a renewed assault on his backside. A skilled, heated tongue flicked against the nape of his neck again and Miroku swallowed. When Inuyasha’s hand slipped down underneath his body, the possessive grip over his cock made him gasp and thrust at the same time.

Inuyasha’s claws played over his skin. Heat spiked through Miroku’s loins. A heavy length pressed against Miroku’s ass, and before there was thought, he pushed back again. And when Inuyasha started to penetrate him, Miroku let him in with a deep, welcoming moan.

Miroku rocked as his lover began to thrust. It was overwhelming, having someone inside of him, a part of him, and causing nothing but this amazing, soul-stirring pleasure.

Enough so that he could forget about the future, at least for this brief moment in time.

XXXXXXXXXXX


Miroku wasn’t looking forward to waking up; he never did, now. Not that there was work to be done; Inuyasha had fixated on Miroku straining himself. The hanyou had taken over every physical task they came across now. But every morning after they made love, Inuyasha looked at Miroku with guilt-ridden eyes, as though he’d committed a crime.

Miroku would have to tell him it was all right again. An issue that affected neither their friendship nor Miroku’s health.

But he couldn’t tell him the truth, and the lies were getting thinner as time went on. He couldn’t tell Inuyasha how all this was beginning to affect him.

Miroku didn’t want to let it be known that he saw Inuyasha brushing crumbs off his suikan and thought of those same fingers running over skin. He heard Inuyasha’s youthful gravel voice and fantasized about Inuyasha talking dirty to him as they made love, instead of the growling and purring and monosyllabic ‘mine’s’ that still punctuated them.

And while Miroku wasn’t in pain, he was rather embarrassed to find that his backside felt sensitized. He sat down and instantly thought of something coming inside of him. His clothes felt as thin as cobwebs, the breezes sneaking up the kilt changing into an obscene invitation to bend over and ask Inuyasha to make him scream for him.

He could NOT tell that to Inuyasha. So, once again, he would need to brush the entire experience aside as a minor nuisance. Perhaps he could make it mildly pleasurable, this time, so as not to be too…repetitive.

And if his luck held, Inuyasha would believe him. Considering that the hanyou always noted the scent of Miroku’s seed covering them both, he’d be suspicious if Miroku said he hadn’t enjoyed it.

The next day was the same. And the next. They woke, Miroku lied and misdirected, and by evening Inuyasha’s youkai was sniffing after him all over again. As they walked down a game trail, avoiding humans even though they were only a few miles from the village, Miroku asked about the breeding smell. He’d started to think about it almost obsessively now.

But just like the day before, Inuyasha said his scent was as strong as it had been by the pool. Miroku’s normal scent, but feminized, rich and earthy and ‘fertile.’

Miroku should have been relieved, but now, when everything should have been better, he had more worries than ever. Miroku worried over their relationship once this ended. He worried about Inuyasha’s mental health if it never ended, although the idea left him feeling less upset than uncertain. But Miroku was very worried about what to do if the scent ended, and there was no baby. Would Inuyasha’s youkai start to suspect something?

Would the hours long sexual marathons start up again?

Miroku had started to wonder if perhaps they should adopt an infant. There were plenty of orphans to be had. If the youkai began having trouble, they could find a small babe and cover it with Miroku’s smell, and perhaps that would do. The shikon jewel would allow the smell to fade, and…there would be a baby to care for.

Would they have to raise it together? The thought of staying together with Inuyasha was not unappealing, as Miroku thought of it. They’d been together in one capacity or another for years now, hadn’t they? And he was surprised how easy it was to visualize them both sharing a house with a small child. Fall asleep with the little fellow between them both, keeping it warm in the winters.

They’d have to get something to keep the baby latched on to Inuyasha for when he jumped, he thought, ducking under a low-hanging branch. A little cloth sling might work. Then Inuyasha could take the little one around the countryside as it screamed joyfully whenever the hanyou jumped up a tree.

Miroku smiled as he thought of it, imagining childish belly laughter echoing as Inuyasha leapt and ran simply to entertain the little one.

“What’re you smiling over?” Inuyasha grumbled, staring at him oddly. Miroku cleared his throat and lost the sight.

“Nothing to worry over. Let’s hurry. I’m looking forward to getting back to the village.”


XXXXXXXXXXXX


The village was not what it should be. Miroku didn’t know quite why it was, but he’d been back in their village for weeks now, and something was wrong. Admittedly, he wasn’t actually in the village any longer. Inuyasha hadn’t been able to control his youkai’s reaction to the villagers and wouldn’t even let Miroku come near the people, at first. Miroku had finally persuaded him to go in and find Kaede, and after she’d come and they’d spoken, they’d agreed to build a small house for Miroku and Inuyasha just within Inuyasha’s Forest.

After the first few weeks, when nothing had happened, Miroku had finally been able to go into the village proper and socialize. Inuyasha said he could feel the urge to attack if they stayed too long, but familiarity had done some good and Inuyasha ‘s instinctive urges had mellowed.

Rather like his love making style. Smooth, erotic, but so sweet, now, without the pain from their first encounters. Miroku was terribly grateful at this point that the youkai was still content with the scent after all these weeks. Even Inuyasha himself seemed…nearly happy. With their home just a little ways from the village, Inuyasha had a peace that Miroku rarely saw when they were surrounded by people.

As Inuyasha’s youkai couldn’t cope with Miroku interacting with them too often, either, Miroku had noticed his own discomfort at crowds had grown, as well.

So they spent most of their time with only each other for company. They hunted, gathered, traded for supplies, and sat together by the fire in the evenings to talk and reminisce over old times, and friends long gone. Then Inuyasha’s eyes would darken, they would make love wherever they happened to be, and Miroku would fall asleep with the heat of Inuyasha against his back.

If not for the knowledge that it couldn’t last forever, it should have been very peaceful.

So Miroku couldn’t understand why he couldn’t feel comfortable. He was good at enjoying life as it came, for however long the joy lasted. But more nights than not, Miroku woke from strange dreams that left him vaguely disturbed, wanting something he couldn’t describe. He found himself reaching out to make sure Inuyasha was close by. He even felt jumpy around the villagers; perhaps he’d been around Inuyasha so long that the hanyou’s unreasonable worries were starting to infect his mind.

He was a bit embarrassed to admit that he felt safer if Inuyasha were around, or if they were holed up in the cozy little house.

It was far cozier than it should have been, honestly. The last two weeks, Inuyasha had started collecting odds and ends to add to it. Every few days, Miroku would wake up to find something new next to his futon: furs, incense, scrolls, jade pieces. Even Miroku’s usual covetous nature was appeased with all the riches Inuyasha had acquired, although he forbore asking where they came from.

Miroku was hoping his own larcenous past had infected Inuyasha, but he didn’t want to be disappointed and discover that Inuyasha had actually paid for it all.

And Inuyasha certainly wasn’t bringing it up. The only reaction Miroku had seen to the ‘gifts’ was a quick glance around the room when Inuyasha returned from wherever he went in the mornings. His eyes would scan their small home until he found where Miroku had put his ‘offering,’ and then a subtle twinkle would come to his eye before he started trying to force food on Miroku again.

At the end of the day, Miroku felt safe, cared for, indulged, and pampered. He just wished he didn’t feel so… unsettled.

Somehow, he felt like he was enjoying the calm before the storm.