Note: 8*sniff** I lurve you guys so much. Thanks for all the positive reviews and whatnot, it's vurra nice.
First of al… GOMENASAI! My computer monitor was broke. For a long time. Drove me crazy. I was all… gottawritegottawrite… my dad let me use his laptop. Once. But the keys are weird and I made forty typos every two seconds so I gave up. 'Sides, I wouldn't've gotten anything done.
Is wouldn't've a word!?
Porlly not. Well, I've been drowned in romantic mush for a week. **grumpy stare** Damn Romeo and Juliet… Damn Valentine's day. I need pain and torture.
So I write ^^
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Chapter 5- Shattered"O happy dagger!
This is thy sheath; there rest, and let me die."
-William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet
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Miroku had fallen asleep.
Naraku watched him as he slumbered, a faintly annoyed expression on his face. Even as he watched the monk, he felt a stirring inside him- the arousal of his own desires. He had awaken that deeply repressed side of him- Onigumo- and an even more deeply repressed urge was pulsing through his veins.
Until now, he had been simply pleasuring his victim- not out of affection or of any feeling but vehemence towards him- but simply to exercise and hold his authority over the monk. Of course, putting him through so much mental anguish and inner turmoil was a nice side effect.
Naraku chuckled darkly. He was in control. Miroku knew that. After all, how could Miroku resist when he couldn't even control his own body? But, then again, he'd managed to, if not stop himself from succumbing, retain some of his dignity. He had resisted with all his might…
That could not be allowed to happen again. Naraku stood. He'd have to fetch some supplies… but now he would break that monk. Then he would have his way with him.
Tonight, Miroku would writhe. Tonight… the monk would cry for him.
-.-
Inu-Yasha was a hard hanyou to control, once he had his mind stuck on something. He roamed the nearby forests, much to Sango and Shippou's protests, and even considered going down the well to fetch Kagome. He tried- but was stopped due to a very prominent law of physics.
Giant two-tailed cat youkai run fast and pounce hard. Likewise, they are heavier than hanyous.
Finally, Inu-Yasha conceded to wait- but he made no effort to conceal his worry and agitation. He still prowled the forest near the village, and tried vainly to regain somewhat his sense of smell, but the herbs were strong, and clung to him like a heavy fog on a cold night.
It was night now. Sango had dropped off to sleep. Inu-Yasha looked to her. He could tell she was probably twice as worried as he was… but she was a rational, logical thinker. Poor girl- she couldn't help but be tactful, for she was raised that way. Shippou… well, since when had Inu-Yasha understood Shippou?
He stood now, looking at the newly-risen full moon. He was sick of waiting. He looked around, wary of Kirara.
She was asleep, curled up at Sango's side.
The hanyou wasted no more time; he turned and bolted off, straight through the forest. Leaf litter and loam flew under his feet, and he leaped with great agility from one side to the other, dodging trees and vaulting from hills. Every step was one fueled by blind desperation- a desperation to save his friend.
He felt a choking in his throat. Miroku…
-.-
At that moment, the aforementioned Houshi slowly opened his eyes, and then closed them again, cringing.
He remembered.
He sat up, shaking a bit. Naraku's white baboon pelt had been draped over him, shielding him from twilight's chill. He brushed it off disgustedly, rather being exposed than touched by that. His shudders deepened and he looked around. No sign of Naraku. Miroku stood up, looking around for his clothes when he heard an all-too-familiar voice.
"What ails you? Are you that susceptible to this cold, monk?"
Miroku spun, facing Naraku. He was shaking now with suppressed rage- or was it fear? He seemed to have lost the ability to distinguish between the two…
"It seems you are." Naraku's crimson gaze narrowed ever so slightly. "How boring." He paused. "You'll need some warming up."
Miroku opened his mouth to speak, but only a choked growl of rage came forth. He didn't look hardly menacing- standing there in the pale moonlight without a stitch of clothing. Rather, to Naraku, the blaze in his eyes, combined with the aforementioned elements, appeared quite seductive.
The hanyou stepped forward- the human backed away. Naraku smiled. "Still resisting me?" he had scarcely finished those words when Miroku spoke, his voice low with menace.
"Go to hell."
Naraku shook in withheld laughter. Eventually, it came out as a low, ominous sound that caused Miroku to involuntarily shudder. "No… you'll be the one going to hell tonight."
Miroku's eyes narrowed further, though he hadn't stopped shaking.
"Or… perhaps heaven."
Naraku made no move towards the human; he merely set something he'd been carrying down upon the ground. It was a makeshift sack, and as he opened it, Miroku saw his robes. Naraku threw them at the monk.
"Get dressed."
Miroku took his clothes, carefully feeling and sniffing them to make sure nothing was amiss. Then he gratefully slid them on, tying the bow with the usual care and then looking to Naraku, who was leaning against a tree, waiting.
"You seem to obey well enough to my commands…" Naraku smirked. "Sit down."
Miroku glared defiantly, but did as he was told, eager to avoid further… "punishment."
Naraku stood again, and circled Miroku. "…Now stand up." Miroku obeyed.
'What's he up to?' Miroku eyes him suspiciously from the corner of his eye. Naraku seemed to be checking him out, viewing all aspects of his clothed self before… before what? "…what are you doing?"
"Be quiet." Naraku snapped.
"What are you up to?" Miroku repeated, this time with more force. He wasn't going down without a fight.
That was just what Naraku wanted… defiance. A reason to break the human. He felt triumph and anticipation rise within. He'd stalled long enough- testing the monk's patience… and soon he would strike back. Soon… but first…
"Why do you even bother, Miroku? Do you honestly think they'll come?"
Miroku's fierce expression faltered. "…who?"
"Your comrades. You're putting faith in them, fueled by empty promises. Inu-Yasha… do you think he'll try to save you?"
Miroku's anger flared up again. "I don't see why not."
"You've been nothing but a burden to them from the start." Naraku was moving in for the kill. He's spent the last hour or so gaining knowledge on the houshi, and now he was going to use it. "Even you met them by causing them trouble. You brought along with you a curse, playing solely on their sympathies to keep you for the journey. Though you are useful, you're still a frail, fragile human, easily manipulated, easily filled with mistrust and hate." He went on, and even though Miroku put a brave façade, he could see his poison working through the monk already.
"It's surprising they haven't gotten rid of you sooner. No doubt your absence is quite a relief. You're nothing but a waste, with your pathetically short life and your petty preoccupation with the opposite sex."
Finally, he stopped. Miroku stood there; staring forward, but blankly… then he lowered his head. It seemed to make sense. Sango's constant rejection of him… Inu-Yasha's short, brash manner…could Naraku be right?
No. It was a lie. A trap.
"That's not true," he said quietly.
"Which part?" Naraku goaded him.
"All of it!" Miroku looked up to him, his orchid eyes blazing in passionate fury, so fiery that Naraku gave a slight shudder- not of fear, but of desire. "My comrades do not see me the way you claim they do! How could you know what it is to be a part of such a group!?" he stepped forward slightly. "And I may be a mere mortal, but I am not weak, and I am not easily manipulated-"
The line Naraku was waiting for. The hanyou moved with speed that defied the eye, elbowing Miroku sharply in the chest even before he had stopped running, knocking the breath out of him.
Miroku fell to the ground, and Naraku came after him, lowered on his hands and knees, straddling his stomach. "We shall see about that," he breathed lowly.
-.-
Mrs. Higurashi was quite glad to have Kagome back. Her daughter had gone on an outing with her friends to celebrate the passing of her latest exam. She smiled to remember Kagome bursting through the door after school, crying out jubilantly… and thoroughly scaring the cat. It was Mrs. Higurashi who had suggested they go see a movie to celebrate.
Souta had declined to join them, and now he was simply lazing about at home, flopped on the couch.
She was in the middle of cooking a particularly nice dinner when she heard a scratch at the door. "Buyo?" she trotted over, opening the screen, and sure enough the heavyset cat waddled right in. "Why are you coming in so early?" she slowly slid the screen shut. "Usually you wait-"
"WHERE'S KAGOME!?"
The screen door nearly shattered under the force of Inu-Yasha's entrance. The screen rattled in it s frame, and there was Inu-Yasha himself, in all his worried glory. The hanyou looked slightly winded, and urgency shone in his bright golden eyes.
"P-Pardon!?" Mrs. Higurashi was flustered.
"Hey, Inu-Yasha!" Souta called, running into the room and skidding slightly in his socked feet. "What's the matter?"
"I need to find Kagome," he hurriedly explained. "It could be a matter of life or death!"
"Sh-she's at the movies. The older Tokyo Cinema on Sakura Street…"
"Where!?" Inu-Yasha's ears fell visibly back in surprise.
"I know the way," Souta piped. "It's right down-"
"No time to explain!" Inu-Yasha scooped the boy up. "I'll be right back!" and he sped off, leaving an even more flustered Mrs. Higurashi. She stood there, eyes wide and blank, until Buyo nudged her leg and she looked down.
"No wonder Kagome comes home whenever she can…"
"Neow."
-.-
Naraku grabbed Miroku by the shoulders and threw him roughly against the side of a broad tree. "First… some assurance."
He yanked the purple material of Miroku's robe free, forcefully removing the rest of his clothes once more. He bent down, pinning Miroku's arms with his hands as he tasted the flesh uncovered into the night air, worrying it with his lips and tongue.
Miroku struggled beneath him.
Naraku made care not to hurt him, and rose up slightly, still holding him to the ground. Grabbing part of the purple material between his teeth, he ripped it in half, discarding one section to the side while holding the rest in his fangs, baring them in an almost sensual manner.
He grabbed Miroku's wrists, forcing them above his head. He brought them together between a half-upturned root on the ground, and wrapped them tightly against one another with the purple cloth. He tied them snug, so the monk couldn't part them, but not enough to hurt.
Miroku pulled against the root, but it curved above the ground only for a short period, and both sections were anchored in feet of earth. He growled. Naraku wasn't finished.
He looped the other section of cloth about Miroku's neck, forming a rough collar. Tying it securely, he pulled sharply on the slack, forcing Miroku to face him.
He said nothing. Finally, he grinned, still silent, and shoved the monk back down.
After clearing the space, he effortlessly spread Miroku's legs- though the monk fought him; Naraku was a great deal stronger. Naraku settled his hands on Miroku's thighs, looking up.
Miroku had turned his face away and shut his eyes tight, quivering slightly. He was afraid. Naraku inhaled deeply. The scent of the moist earth and the sharp pang of fear, mingled with the heady fragrance of Miroku's exposed flesh formed quite the aphrodisiac. Needing no further goading, he once again lowered his head, tasting the flesh of Miroku's manhood.
Miroku's body tensed, and he bit back a groan. Naraku took his gradually stiffening member into his mouth, sliding his tongue over it and drawing away, gently blowing on the wet skin.
"Ngh," Miroku's hips twitched.
"Don't fight it," Naraku ran a finger slowly up the side, nipping the tip lightly, dipping his tongue briefly over the tiniest of holes there. "Succumb. It's in your nature…" he licked the underside, moving at an agonizingly slow pace.
Miroku's chest began to heave. How inviting.
Naraku slithered up Miroku's body, once again straddling the monk's waist. He leaned down, lightly kissing the bare, smooth skin of the chest before moving to his left nipple and gently taking it between his teeth.
"Ah…" Miroku's gasped, startled.
Naraku grinned against him, goading the nub into hardness with his lips and tongue, and then sucking deliciously while tweaking the other beneath his fingers. He could feel Miroku's heartbeat beneath him… racing…
Miroku's entire spine gave a minute spasm. The human was trying to control his own body… Naraku would make sure that wouldn't happen.
He allowed his remaining hand to slither slowly over Miroku's abdomen, stopping the grip Miroku's now-erect member. He bid his fingers to drift up and down the length, sucking on Miroku's nipple as the friction between the heated skin and his hand left fiery traces of burning pleasure.
Miroku's back arched, and he gave a small, unintelligible sound. "Unh…"
Naraku raised himself up with one hand, still gripping Miroku in the other. Slowly, he drew the second hand away, and Miroku's hips raised, straining for his. His legs spread wider, as if begging for attention to the burning center of his lust.
Naraku grinned darkly in victory, and Miroku looked away, closing his eyes in shame.
"…" Naraku suddenly pulled to the side, reaching for the bag that had remained where it was dropped, not far away. He pulled out the last item he was looking for- a small bottle, filled with a murky orangeish liquid.
Miroku ventured to open his eyes a bit, confused by the pause.
Naraku popped the cork that secured the bottle off, and slid a finger easily down the wide neck of the bottle. He drew it out, staring down at Miroku, and slid back down again.
"Wh…what're you…" Miroku tried to rise up, But Naraku forced him back down. He complied, and the hanyou spread his legs even farther, grinning when he found no resistance. He curled his now-slick finger… and then slid it inside of the monk.
Miroku jerked, at first, in pure shock and his eyes widened at this new indignity… and then as Naraku probed further, his spine gave a jerk, and his face bore one of utter surprise.
"There," Naraku muttered casually, as he roughly stroked the monk's sweet spot.
Miroku's back arched, and he gave a low, delicious moan. "Ohhh…"
Naraku chuckled, sliding another finger inside. "You like that, eh?"
Miroku's breath was coming short, and he gave another throaty groan.
Naraku began to pump the digits in and out, starting slowly at first, reveling in the pain of submission in Miroku's eyes, and then moving faster as the monk's body responded to him like an instrument to a musician. He worked him faster, and Miroku's hips rose to meet his fingers.
"Ahhh…" Miroku shook with desire. Pleasure thrummed through his systems, leaving him wanting- no, needing- more.
Naraku suddenly pulled his fingers out. Miroku twitched, straining towards him and giving a low whimpering noise.
"You want more?" Naraku grinned as he allowed his own kimono to slide from his shoulders. Miroku closed his eyes again, gritting his teeth and looking away.
Naraku soon undressed himself, though Miroku did not see, for his had buried his face in his arm in shame. The hanyou emptied the contents of the bottle onto his hands, applying it thickly onto his own member before wiping his hands on his discarded clothing.
"Miroku…" he once again moved up the houshi, holding him ready. "Cry out for me."
And then he thrust his hips forward, forcefully entering the monk.
Miroku's body reacted with equal violence, his eyes wide. There was a small shock of pain, followed by a stretching feeling… and the Naraku grunted, moving inside him in smooth, powerful strokes.
"Ahh!" Miroku cried, fighting against his bonds. Naraku gripped the slack of his cloth collar, drawing him into a crushing kiss.
He was met with no resistance. The hanyou slithered his tongue into the sweet heat of Miroku's mouth, furiously moving his lips against Miroku's. Yes. Yesss…
With his mind clouded by the blinding, mind-blowing pleasure… Miroku responded. His tongue hesitantly entered Naraku's mouth, and soon his own jaws were working against Naraku's furiously. The hanyou gave a groan of triumph, and broke away for a breath, still thrusting, now raggedly panting. "Say… my name," he growled, testing the limits of his authority.
"Naraku!" Miroku cried brokenly. His hips thrust in time with Naraku's strokes, his entire body was at Naraku's control. "Ahhh!"
Naraku drove him harder, provoking further shouts from Miroku, who writhed beneath him, screaming like a mindless animal. Suddenly, Naraku felt a force explode in the back of his head, and mind-numbing ecstasy of which the likes he had never known rushed through every sinew and muscle of his body. He gave a wordless cry, which was followed closely by another howl from the monk beneath him.
Naraku felt himself release, and Miroku did the same. Gasping, the monk fell back as a warm bliss gripped him. For a split second, he reveled in it- the felt of a warm body against his… the soft earth beneath him. It was a utopia. An all-consuming feeling of utter splendor…
Nirvana.
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Note: Weee! I had entirely too much fun writing that! XD