Love's Labors Won
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InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Miroku/Sango
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
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Category:
InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Miroku/Sango
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,239
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Bath Time
AUTHOR’S NOTES: A little more lemon stuff this time...enjoy. Please review, I’d like to hear what you think.
Sango and Kilala flew east for about an hour, then landed in a clearing Sango had spotted. The youkai was
supposed to be in the area; from the villager’s description, it was some sort of praying mantis. Sango remembered
the praying mantis youkai that had nearly led to Miroku’s death, which made her think of Miroku, which she had
sworn not to do for awhile. Had it not been for Kagome, Inuyasha, Shippo, and their quest, she would have left
Kaede’s village for good.
sense of smell. It availed them nothing, only a faint scent heading west, probably days old. Kilala dug up the
remains of a small dog or a wolf, which had been sliced up and partially devoured; it might have been the youkai’s
meal, or merely fallen victim to other wolves. In the few villages that dotted the area, she inquired if any of them
had seen the youkai. A few had, but only from a distance, and only at night. It apparently avoided villages. Sango
wondered if it was a youkai like Kouga or Ayame–one not actually evil. After a stop at the last village in her area of search ended with nothing, not even rumors, Sango decided to give up
for the day. A discreet inquiry led her and Kilala to find a suitable spot to stay the night, at a hot spring set amongst
the rocky foothills, near a cave. It was a good distance from the last village, though only a day’s walk from Kaede’s,
in a direct line. Sango decided that she would rest a little until moonrise, about midnight, then search the area again.
If nothing turned up, she and Kilala would fly back to Kaede’s village at dawn. Sango unpacked her tiny bundle of blankets and made a small shelter, just enough for herself and Kilala in her
kitten form, which the bakeneko had returned to. She pawed around the blankets, tamping them down, then yowled
at Sango, indicating her approval. “Glad you like it,” Sango smiled. She picked Kilala up and hugged her gently,
with the kitten purring into her shoulder. Kilala then abruptly chuffed and sneezed, and Sango held her out at arm’s
length. “You okay?” Kilala mewed back, and Sango got a whiff of herself. “I guess I probably could use a bath,”
she said, wrinkling her nose. She had not bathed since the day before, and she had been walking around all day in
the hot catsuit. “I can take a hint, Kilala, even if Miroku can’t.” Another quizzical trill from Kilala, and Sango set
her down. “Damn him,” Sango murmured. “I finally find a way to keep his hands off my butt, and now I’ve got to
find a way to keep him off my mind.” She grabbed her towel and Kagome’s shampoo and soap, which her friend had
kindly left behind, and walked to the hot spring. There, she peeled off the catsuit, draped it over a rock, and lathered
herself with soap. Then she lowered herself into the spring. It was actually cold at first, but she adjusted to the
temperature quickly enough and sank down to her chin. “Aaah,” she said in pure pleasure. “Now this feels good.” Sango lay in the water for awhile, just letting the aches of the day float away with the soap suds, watching the sun
begin to set in an explosion of orange and red. She let her thoughts drift as well, remembering happy times with her
own village and the good times she had shared since joining Inuyasha and Kagome. There was the time Kagome had
tried wild wasabi, which had been so hot she had not only sneezed violently but let loose a flood of obscenity that no
one had guessed the teenaged miko knew. Inuyasha had gotten up, walked over to a fiercely blushing Kagome, and
bowed deeply to her, on his hands and knees, head to the floor, and begged to be her student in the art of cursing.
Inuyasha rarely cracked jokes, and his timing had been perfect, leaving them all screaming in laughter. Sango
chuckled at the memory. There had been when Shippo had gotten his challenge from the surviving thunder
demoness Souten; what could have been a deadly serious duel had become a comedy of errors, from Kilala’s sudden
dive into catnip, to Sango and Miroku falling into a ridiculously easy trap, to Kagome’s description of Souten’s
dragon retainer attempting to ‘sit’ Inuyasha by assuming–sort of–Kagome’s form. That description had been nearly
as funny as the sight of the Inuyasha and Kagome golems during the Tsubaki affair, which looked more like one of
Shippo’s doodles than any threat. The problem with those memories was that it made Sango think of Miroku. Furious, she stood up and violently
shampooed her hair. It certainly cleansed her raven locks, but it did nothing to cleanse her brain of the monk. “That
bastard,” she snarled aloud. “Why does he have to be so much of a damn pervert?” As she scrubbed, Sango allowed herself to think of Miroku, intending to stoke her anger enough that she would
forget the times he made her laugh. There had been plenty of those. Some had been intentional, like the time he had
walked out of Kaede’s hut wearing Sango’s yukata and kimono during the spring festival, and proceeded to walk
around as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Sango smiled for a moment when she remembered the horror-struck
look on Inuyasha’s face, then practically pulled her own face back down into a frown. Then there was the accidental
times, such as the time he had tripped over his own sandals, or had made a grab for what he had sleepily thought was
Sango’s rear end, only to find himself with a handful of very upset hanyou. Who knew he could run that fast in those
robes? Sango grinned to herself. And then there was the time that she and Kagome had decided to turn the tables on the men and spy on their
bathing for a change. It had been a mistake. When they had inevitably given themselves away, Inuyasha had been
shocked enough to dive under the water, but Miroku, in the shallows, had merely turned, thrown his arms open, and
invited the two women to look to their heart’s desire. Sango and Kagome had screamed in girlish terror and fled in
embarrassment, but not before Sango had gotten mental snapshots of the monk’s nude body. She remembered the
same chest she had seen during the morning and its chiseled form; the firm, flat stomach; the sculpted back that
tapered down into muscular buttocks. Of course, there was Miroku’s face–handsome, framed by loose hair the same
color as her own, the devilish glint in his dark eyes that made her heart hammer every time it was turned in her
direction. And then there was the other part of his anatomy that made her mouth turn dry– “Stop that,” Sango nearly shouted, startling the nearby Kilala. Sango could feel her cheeks burning, but wasn’t
sure if it was embarassment or something else. She reached down and splashed water on her face, then caught sight
of her own breasts, the pinkish nipples erect–and with the warm air and water, she knew it wasn’t from temperature.
“Not you too,” she groaned. Worse, now she could feel that same fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach, and a
growing empty sensation between her legs. Her fingers strayed in that direction, hovered over the thin triangle of her
pubic hair, as Sango was torn between going further, getting out of the pool and getting her clothes back on, or
slamming her head into a rock in frustration. After all, a little voice whispered in her mind, it wouldn’t be the first
time you’ve fingered yourself, thinking of him... Sango stood on the brink, feeling her heart begin to thud faster, her breathing quicken, and her mouth grow drier
as the moisture fled to somewhere else. Then a small animal suddenly appeared at the edge of the pool and chittered
at her. The sudden noise nearly caused her to leap out of the spring. When she had gotten her wits back, Sango
looked down at herself in the water. “What are you doing?” she asked her reflection. “Getting ready to
do...that...because of him? Sango-chan, you are shameless. Now stop it. You don’t have time for this.” The little
voice whispered back that she had plenty of time, and she was being a fool for not going forward, but Sango mentally
kicked that voice back into the dark void it had come from. It helped to picture the owner of the voice as Naraku’s
demon minion, Kagura. Well, she thought as she sat back down in the spring, it could have been worse...it could
have been Shippo, or Kagome...or Inuyasha! Had Kagome come upon Sango pleasuring herself, she would be
horribly embarrassed, but would have understood–after all, Sango was sure that Kagome harbored illicit thoughts
about Inuyasha. Shippo was still enough of a child for Sango to make up some excuse. With Inuyasha, she had no
idea, especially knowing the hanyou’s usual reaction to something he didn’t really want to understand, which was
either to laugh at it or attack it. Miroku didn’t bear thinking about at all. Sango bent forward and dunked her head under the water, washing away the last of the shampoo and, she hoped,
any lingering erotic thoughts of Miroku. She then got out of the pool, dressed in her sleeping kimono, and tunneled
under the blankets with Kilala. She worried that it would be difficult to sleep, that Miroku might make a sudden
reappearance in her thoughts along with the Kagura voice. But the exertions of the day and the warmth of the hot
spring had gotten to her, and Sango found herself spiraling into sleep. In a nearby cave, something stirred. Scenting human, it began stalking its prey.