Miroku and Kagome: 36 tales of love and lust

disclaimer: The characters and world of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

What's Love Got to Do With It?
By Sarga

Kagome stood at the edge of the well, seriously debating not jumping in. Inuyasha had practically thrown her to the ground before bounding away. She hadn't even gotten a chance to see if he was okay. After all, she had just passionately kissed his best friend.

These feelings she was having for Miroku were confusing. At first she thought they might just be lust, but her fantasies were starting to morph into something different. Sometimes he would hold her, sometimes he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Sometimes he would tell her he loved her.

Kagome knelt down, still holding onto the well, and rested her forehead against the ancient wood. Did she love Miroku? How could she when she still loved Inuyasha?

Did she still love Inuyasha?

That thought hit Kagome with a jolt and her mind reeled as it tried to back-peddle in quick denial. Yet the seed of doubt had been planted and Kagome couldn't help but think about it, nibbling on her lower lip in contemplation as her stomach did funny flip-flops.

Inuyasha had been and continued to be her loyal protector, but really, was she ever going to be more to him? The passion that Miroku had shown her was tantalizing after having been practically ignored by the half-demon she had devoted herself to for three years. She couldn't deny that Miroku's sexual experience and confidence was enticing, but was that enough to consider it love?

Sighing, Kagome stood and headed back to Kaede's hut.

Kagome had to talk to Miroku.

- - - - - - - - - -

Miroku regained consciousness in stages, his throbbing head not allowing him to come full-on into being awake. Moaning as he recalled what had gotten him attacked, Miroku grimaced. He had kissed Kagome. Honest mistake, really. Couldn't blame a man for reacting to a beautiful face right in front of his when he had just woken up from a lustful dream...

Still... his head really hurt.

Miroku sat up with his eyes closed, his mind replaying tantalizing snippets of Kagome in all her salacious glory...

Kagome's fingers stroking, rubbing, teasing...

Kagome's mouth on his, that little pink tongue caressing his own...

Kagome taking all of him into her sweet, slippery warmth.

Thoughts that were making him hard, taking all the blood in one big rush away from his head...

...which still hurt like hell!

Miroku rested his hand on his temple, trying to ease the burning in the back of his head without directly touching it. He had a lump or a fractured skull, either way, it wouldn't do any good to touch the wound. It needed time to heal.

Instead of Kagome's firm, round, tantalizing...

Instead of Kagome's nubile flesh...

Okay, instead of Kagome, Miroku had to think about something... anything... except Kagome's supple breasts and tender ass...

Not working!

Miroku's hard-on throbbed as painfully as his head.

Focusing on the more innocuous aspects of Kagome, Miroku tried to make sense of their new relationship – or rather, what might become a relationship if a certain half-demon didn't kill him first. That was the crux of the problem. Even if he was interested in Kagome in more than a purely physical sense, how could he get close enough to explore this without getting slashed through the gut?

His internal reflection was interrupted by the sound of a small knock on the wooden door frame.

“Miroku?” Kagome's voice was tentative, nervous.

“Kagome, please come in and join me. I thought you had left to head back to your time?”

“Well...” Kagome averted her eyes for a moment before steeling her resolve. Looking back to the man before her, Kagome's voice became stronger, more certain. “We need to talk.”

“Ah.”

Sitting at Miroku's side, Kagome looked hard at the monk for a moment, her piercing gaze searching for something, but neither knew what.

“So... you wanted to talk?” Miroku prompted, not liking the feelings that churned from the depths of his belly. A hard-on was one thing but this other fire... this was dangerous.

“What do you feel for me, Miroku?”

“Wha... feel...” Miroku was thrown for a loop, not knowing how to respond without losing something in the exchange. Either he lied and said he was madly and deeply in love with her and only her – and she held him to his word – or he lied and said she was just like every other woman – and she knocked him on his already damaged head. “Uh... that is... I...”

Sighing wearily, Kagome rubbed her hand across her temple, letting her eyes fall shut. Taking a deep breath, she saved the monk from talking himself into a corner.

“I don't need you to be in love with me, Miroku, but... I don't think I could stand it if I was nothing more to you than every other woman has been.” Kagome looked up at him, then past him as she laid her heart on the line, openly, completely. For if there was one thing about the monk, even if he didn't share in her expectations, he wouldn't use her confession against her. He might have been a pervert, but he wasn't cruel.

“For years I've been by Inuyasha's side and for years he's ignored my every attempt to get closer to him. All of a sudden I'm seeing you everywhere – during meditation, in my dreams, in my fantasies,” Kagome blushed at the disclosure and looked back at the monk, almost challengingly. “I'm starting to feel... something for you. I don't know if it's anything more than desire, and at this point, I really don't care. I just need to know if you feel... something... anything for me. Just for me. I couldn't stand to be just another woman to you.

Kagome hung her head in embarrassment.

“If you don't feel anything for me, tell me now before it's too late to stop. We... That is, I... could handle it if you're just interested in me for my body,” Kagome smirked, looking back up. “After all, it was amazing...”

Miroku was shocked.

“I... I don't love you Kagome,” Miroku paused at her sharp intake of breath, but stilled her with a gentle hand as she tried to stand back up. His voice was soft, pleading with her to understand. “I don't love you, but you're more to me than the others. I think... no, I know that you're special and, if you let me, I'd like to see if you could be something more to me...”

There. It was all laid out on the line.

Both of them cared for each other.

Maybe, someday...

...it could be love.