Ah misunderstandings where would we be with out you?

Disclaimer: I do not. I do not own. I do not own anything.

Their hands wandered blindly over each other in the smooth darkness. A small glint of moonlight shone stubbornly through the graceless window illuminating the curves of chins, the soft roundness of a shoulder, the glittering strands of dark, dark hair. But the two ignored the small guidelines and groped at each other without even needing to see. They knew each other too well by now. Every curve and line on the young demon slayers body had been burned into the monk's mind, after all he spent any second he could spare staring at it, yearning for it. Now touch accompanied this mental image.

Sango looked through her bangs almost angrily across the fire at Miroku. He hadn't said a word to her since they had woken tangled in each other. A complete mess of legs and arms and twisted blankets, all smelling like sweat and other things. The arrogant fool mearly opened his eyes, untangled himself, threw on clothing then left. Then he had the nerve to go on like nothing had happened. Not a loving embrace, not a knowing look, not even a pitiful one. Even now he talked and laughed like nothing had happened. Ignoring her completely. She felt completely sick.

She could see it now. He would say 'Sango, surely you didn't think that it meant any thing. I thought that I'd made my intention perfectly clear.'

How could she have been so stupid.

The sweet tangy smell of alcohol stained the cool night air. It was a pitiful scent, ruining any wonderful natural smell and rang a constant reminder that the two weren't in their right minds.

Miroku moved his bared hand over the little slice of skin showing above the pink of her kimono. The small touch make his skin vibrate with pleasure. It was so smooth it could have been coated with a fine sheen of oil and he wouldn't have noticed. He moved quickly to touch his mouth to the spot where his fingers had touched and breathed in deep to absorb any bit of her natural sweet delirious smell he could.

It was so much different than any other touch he had given her. He wanted to savor her. He wanted to worship her body. Every inch. Every centimeter.

There was a burned and grilled fish in Sango's hand all of the sudden, ran through with a stick. She had no idea how it got there. She just stared at it not in the least bit hungry and let it absorb all of the hate, rage, and betrayal in her heart.

"Sango?" a small voice called out to her. "Are you okay, you don't look so well."

Her eyes raised from the little dead fish with a start. She looked first to Kagome who's eyes glistened with worry. Then around the fire to the rest of her companions. They all looked to her, waiting for a reply. All except for Miroku that is. He just looked down into the fire, a nervous smile across his face.

She had loved him, given him her body and her heart, and he was just going to pretend it never happened? She felt so used …and dirty.

"Are you sure you're all right?" the man whispered into the red hot shell of Sango's ear. His fingers traced the soft skin of her naked stomach, then he leaned up on his forearms to gaze into her panic-stricken face. The girl's breath was so shaky and uneven. Her round heavenly face was beat red and contorted with something akin to fear or embarrassment. There were hot tears glistening on her cheeks.

"Please, Miroku…" she stuttered closing her eyes and turning her face away. She placed her warm hand on his lower banck and pulled him close to her. "Just do it already."

The strong girl he cared for so had quickly lost the her former enthusiam and daring meanandering touches and turned cold and unreceptive. He knew he should stop. He knew it. Or ask he what was wrong at least. But she was asking him to touch her. He spent too much time already expressing restraint and couldn't tear himself away when he was so close to the prize. She wanted this after all…

"What is the matter with you!" Sango roared across the fire. She didn't seem to have any strength in her legs to walk over to him. She was almost choking as it was, not even wanting to hear an answer. She already had an idea of what he would say, and didn't know if she could survive it.

Miroku covered his face with his hand, hiding it from her. He stayed quiet for what seemed like forever before saying quietly, "I don't know."

Her eyes dropped to the ground. She heard shuffling around them. The others were trying to get up. She heard whisperings of privacy.

"Please don't leave me alone with him." She stuttered softly, before looking up with a renewed anger, "Ever!"

She was moving with him, rocking and giving little moans of pleasure. Somehow it didn't taste as sweet as he always hoped it would. He always imagined she would look into his eyes while they made love, and kill him with those sweet loving eyes. He didn't think this would happen. Miroku wanted to reach a hand to her face and turn those pretty eyes to him. Make her look at him. But he stopped short thinking that the look he saw in her eyes might not be one his heart could bare.

Yet through all his tumulus thoughts he continued to ravage her. To press against her. To fuck her in such an uncouth way. It had already happened after all. He couldn't walk away now and claim he'd never violated her. He thought perhaps he had a taste for such things. It didn't seem to ruin his pleasure to force a woman, after all.

"Don't I mean any thing to you at all?" Sango whispered, almost choking on tears, she would never allow him to see.

The coward still didn't look at her.

"I thought maybe you cared for me… at least a little." she sighed half heartedly. And looked to him with a smile. "Forget it. Just forget it okay! I can take a hint. I don't want to make this difficult for you. It's my fault after all for thinking you were anything but a lecherous monk."

He looked up sadly, "Please don't say such things. I never meant for it to happen like this."

He could feel himself tensing. They'd barely begun and he was already about to come. She smelt so sweet, and he'd wanted her for so long he could barely contain himself. He dreamed, literally dreamed of seeing her beneath him. Watching her beautiful breasts moving in time with his strokes. He dreamed of hearing her breath rough and jagged. He dreamed of smelling the sweet musk of her sex.

But he'd also dreamed of hearing her call his name, and looking at him with loving eyes, and just knowing for an instant he was giving her pleasure as just her mere presence had done for him time and time again.

He never even brought her to orgasm once. What a selfish lover.

"How the hell did you mean for it to happen then!" Sango shouted. "What did you want Kagome to be there too?"

"Don't be ridiculous Sango!" he stood as quickly as he could and went over to her swiftly, and kneeled down. His face was twisted in an almost believable look of torment. "You're the only one I want. Now and forever!"

"You don't have to lie to me Miroku." She smiled sickly sweet through her tears. "I can handle it. Don't even insult me, with false words of comfort." Her eyes suddenly lit with a wicked gleam and she turned to him. She laughed half heartedly, and grabbed his hand.

So this is how it's going to be is it?

She'd fallen asleep almost instantly, but sleep didn't come so easy for Miroku. His heart hurt. He wanted to lay there and hold her. Behave like two people who loved each other. Somehow he knew he shouldn't. Maybe it was just girlish behavior of saying no while meaning yes. Maybe she was just nervous. Maybe she didn't like it at all.

He pulled himself up and dressed quickly, without even sparing a look to her bare and vulnerable body.

The minute she closed the door to their small hut Sango began ripping at the monk's clothes, and roughly biting at his lips. She moved desperately finally feeling absolutely strong. If he wanted to fuck her so badly, hearts be damned, maybe she should reciprocate. Miroku was really such a handsome man. A woman should be capable of using him like he had used her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sango! Hold up!" he stuttered anxiously as her hands groped farther south, a little too rough to be pleasurable.

"What is it Miroku?" She cooed sweetly, before moving her hand in a more tantalizing manner, "I thought you wanted me?"

He slapped her hand away.

If only he had been stronger maybe. If only he had been a better man. If he had been someone worth loving, maybe he would be laughing and talking with Sango like normal.

He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

And he'd pratically raped her.

No… not practically.

"I'll never touch you again. I swear it!" Miroku muttered distantly.

"Why, am I not being a good sport?" Her eyes turned down. "I'm probably not as skilled as you're used to any way."

"That doesn't matter to me!"

The sun was rising over the hills while Miroku's heart sank with the moon. He would get her flowers. And he would buy her nice things. He would kiss her very toes if that would bring them together again.

Courage left him when she walked out however.

"Sango!" He almost yelled, then turned her face softly back to him after she indigently turned away. "Look at me, please. I want to look me straight in the eyes when I tell you this."

Her eyes settled on him.

She looked so fantastic walking towards the fire. Her hair wasn't even kept up yet, it was still tousled from the night before. He could have sworn she threw a soft smile in his direction. And his heart swelled.

"I love you, with all my heart."

Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay after all.