HA! I'm sure this fandom thought they had seen the last of me. Nope, I'm back. And InuMir is the name of the game...

So here's a little drabble of my current favorite pairing, hope you enjoy

His fingers move slowly through Inuyasha's hair, the strands dark and black against the paleness of his gloved hand. He can tell his lover doesn't want to give in to the comfort provided by those strokes, but a small inclination of the head betrays him.

Miroku laughs. "Are you ever going to cut this?"

"Not if I can help it." Inuyasha answers, just a tad too quickly. He leans back slightly, tipping his head backwards to looks at the night sky, the absence of the moon, and sighs. "I fucking hate this."

"I know." Miroku reaches forwards, brushing his hands against Inuyasha's fingers, feeling the bluntness of his nails. His skin is warm. "However, I'm not entirely opposed to it."

With a snort, Inuyasha pulls away from him. "You're not opposed to me being a weak defenseless human once every month?"

The fire makes a soft noise, sending sparks of embers up into the air and it casts a bright glow of orange on the scene. Miroku observes the other, the way Inuyasha pulls his leg up to his chest and rests an elbow on it, an annoyed expression on his face.

His eyes are a startling grey shade now, his hair the same color as the monk's own. His snarl reveals only normal teeth, no sharp canines. The change is stunning each time, no matter how often he witnesses it.

Miroku smiles. "It's not that bad, is it?"

Inuyasha only glares at him angrily. "Keh, you wouldn't understand."

The words lay heavily on the silence between them. Miroku swallows, coughs into his hand once and looks away. "No, perhaps I wouldn't."

There is a chilly breeze that cuts right through him, he tries not to shiver, knowing that even without his superior senses Inuyasha would notice, but huddles a bit closer to the flames instead. The heat beats into him.

He flexes his fingers against the cold, staring at the palm of his hand. It doesn't hurt exactly, but he can feel it there. A constant reminder, his life forever forfeit.

"Inuyasha, do you really detest humans that much?"

The hanyou's head shoots up to looks at him. A few rapid blinks as he seems to process the source of his boyfriend's sudden seriousness.

Miroku frowns into the crook of his elbow. "It's okay if you do, of course."

Inuyasha sighs, scooting over. He stares for a few seconds, something inside Miroku tightens unpleasantly at that searching gaze, as if somehow he could discern what was wrong just by looking.

"What are you going on about all of the sudden?" He huffs, but the monk doesn't answer. He takes one of Miroku's hands, the one bare of cloth, and squeezes lightly.

"I don't detest humans." He says then, carefully. "I don't detest you."

"But?"

"But I don't appreciate being so fucking useless on nights like these."

Miroku tries his best to hide his smirk. He had seen Inuyasha pull some pretty incredible feats as a human that gave even him a headache, so the irony was not lost on him.

"I think 'useless' would hardly be the right word to describe you right now, my friend." He muses out loud, leaning just a bit closer to whisper conspiratorially in currently human ears. "But I could think of a few other things."

Inuyasha pushes him away quickly, not letting go of his hand though, and it might be the glow of the fire but his face seems redder than normal. "God, you're such a pervert."

"But you don't detest me?" Miroku asks solemnly, straight faced as can be despite a grin threatening to break through at any moment.

Inuyasha rolls his eyes at him. "I guess not."

There is a faint glow on the horizon, the faint traces of a sunrise soon to be upon them. Inuyasha will go back to his usual self, Miroku will stay unbearably human.

And that would have to be enough.

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