My Precious

Title: Broken
Author: Saraste
Series: My Precious, part 3
Pairing: Kouga/Miroku, past Inuyasha/Miroku
Rating: overall PG-13 fluff with some NC-17 naughty.
Genre: romance, post-mpreg, fluff, angst
Warnings: slash, post-mpreg
Wordcount: 1326
A/N: Written in Jan 2009, so it's a bit old. I'm going to post these once a week or so in the hopes that I'll catch up with my typing of them (as school holds sway over my fanfic time now). Thank you also to all who've commented.^-^ I'd like to point out that this is categorized under male/male since there is no Kouga/Miroku category, at least none I can find at any rate. And yes, Inuyasha is coming out quite the bastard in this fic, it's all intentional. Need it for the angst and plot, it isn't my normal view of him but just me twisting his volatile personality as far as I could. I'm also quite pleased I was the first to introduce Kou/Mir to some of you. Makes me all fuzzy inside.

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Miroku felt at ease with Kouga. It was something he'd not felt for such a long time. The warm spring day through which they walked made him feel sanguine, letting himself hope for a better future as the world around them woke to new life. The sun telling him that yes, the world was not as bleak and dark as it had been. Chasing away the ghosts of his past as best as it could.

His last meeting with Inuyasha had left him heartbroken and then he'd been confined in that small hut for the long winter. He had been glad he had enough provisions at the time. But he'd had entirely too much time to think.

Endless hours alone as the wind howled outside and his son cried. As the world outside died for the winter season, the promise of new life sleeping under the barren land.

Think over every single moment and memory he had of his time as Inuyasha since they'd become lovers. Afternoons spent fucking in the woods, travelling together, defending each other to the death. Inuyasha making him feel so so good. Making him feel wanted in his strong embrace. Making him feel so good as to fool himself into believing there was something behind the amazing, mind blowing sex.

But Inuaysha never said he loved him.

Miroku had repeated it copious times, a never-ending mantra. Orchestration to their sounds of their wild passion, a breathlessly whispered declaration which it seemed had always remained unheeded. He'd even turned a blind ear to the one name Inuyasha sometimes repeated during sex when he was so far gone he didn't know even his own name. He'd been such a fool.

And then he'd been with child.

The accusations, the disdain. The abandonment. Inuyasha had simply cast him aside. Telling him to get rid of it. Leaving him alone, with child, to defend for himself. He'd retreated to the mountains. With the help of no living soul, he'd given birth to their son, alone and scared to death. No healer wanted to help him. Unnatural, they'd said. But there had been some sympathetic soul, a miko, he believed, who had brought him provisions and made sure the villagers stayed away from him and the baby. Let them live unharmed.

And then, one day in early autumn as the summer was about to end, Inuaysha had come.

Miroku had been afraid. He'd presented him with their son. Pleaded with them to take responsibility. Not out of love, for he now knew that had never been the case between them, but because of his honour. His obligation as a father. But to no avail. Inuyasha had abandoned him yet again, striking him as he went. Leaving him to huddle on the ground as the rain drenched him.

That had been the blow that broke all ties between them.

He'd retreated back to the hut and vowed himself never to get attached like that again. He was now only grateful for Inuyasha for two things. His son and the role the hanyou had played in the demise of Naraku. For now he had certainty that he'd not succumb to the curse and that his son would never have to suffer his fate. He would see Shin grow up.

Miroku looked down at the babe snuggled in his arms. He carried the infant in a sling on his chest, his arm curling around him protectively while the other held his staff. It jingled to the pattern of his steps, often lulling his son to sleep. Shin was drooling all over his blanket, drawing it in his mouth and suckling at it. His father smiled. It was such a comfort to see someone who wasn't, at least not yet, been affected by what had happened between him and Inuaysha.

He sighed.

He glanced at the ookami, wondering if he should make conversation. What could he say? The last time he'd been in contact with anyone of their little group of Shard collectors and their acquaintances had been just before he'd left. They knew of his affair with Inuyasha. He and the hanyou had been thrust together after Kagome had returned back to her own time. She'd not stayed even for Inuyasha. There was too much hurt for her.

Miroku didn't blame her.

In hindsight he had just been a willing body to Inuyasha. Casting his better judgement aside just for brief moments of ecstasy in the hanyou's arms. He should have known it wouldn't last. But he'd hoped. And then he'd found out. Hurrying to Inuyasha to tell him the good news. The yelling. Inuyasha striking at him. Crying. Hurrying off through the blinding rain...

It always rained when something bad happened with Inuyasha. He'd nearly fallen off the road that day. Slippery earth giving away under his feet. He'd nearly lost the frail life he carried within.

And cursed Inuyasha for ever burdening him with such a bitter sweet gift.

Miroku snapped out of his memories, shaking his head. He looked at Shin to ground himself again. It was over now. Inuaysha couldn't hurt him anymore than he already had. He doubted the hanyou would ever deliberately seek him out. He decided he needed to fill the silence between them with conversation. The chatter of birds and the soft caresses of the breeze in the trees weren't enough to distract him.

“So, seen Sango lately?” Miroku asked Kouga.

“Oh yea, she often comes by with the fox runt these days”, the ookami said.

Miroku smiled. “Has he grown at all?”

“Nahh, still as small as ever”.

Kouga looked at Miroku. He had seemed so withdrawn earlier as they'd walked in silence. The pretty monk was still melancholy. But never when he looked at his son. Then his scent spiked with happiness. He was a devoted father, that much was obvious. The ookami growled internally as he thought about the conflicting situation. Inuyasha had given Miroku a son but hurt him unbearably. He'd hurt the pretty monk so much his soul was raw. The human wasn't able to guise that from the ookami's observant nose.

He was broken.

And hid it well. A mask of happiness as they chatted while nearing his lands. He smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. And his scent was all wrong. He was shaky. But it was fading. Kouga thought it was just due to his prolonged lack of contact with other people. He needed to get back into mingling with other's again.

Wolves ran at them, yipping exitedly as they crossed the borders of what was the immediate area surrounding the den.

Miroku tensed immediately. Even with Kouga's promise he was nervous. Worried for Shin. The canines congregated around him, excitedly sniffing at him. They weren't threatening as he was with Kouga.

The ookami was beside him the moment his scent spiked with fear.

“It's cool, just let them sniff you”, he lay a soothing hand on the monk's shoulder and squeezed it warmly.

Miroku gulped. The wolves only looked playful. Lolling tongues, eager eyes and wagging tails. Kouga patted their heads and murmured to them.

The monk calmed down.

“Ok, let's go”, Kouga said. “Sango's come visit”.

And there went that tranquillity again.