InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Roads to Ruin ❯ Hurt ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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Big thanks to my alpha reader Maxwells02demon




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Hurt

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Roads to Ruins Part two






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“Inuyasha?”

He kept the death grip on the rat pelt, his eyes still closed and ears laid back so they pressed into his skull. Miroku brushed the silvery strands off his forehead, feeling the extreme heat from the fever raging in his broken body.

He sighed and pressed the cold cloth to his forehead, trying to take some of the heat from his still form. His chest had barely risen with each gasping breath; this was a time he dearly wished Kagome were here.

At the thought of his friends, the guilt of what had happened the night before came crashing down like the rotting structure of an old house. His shoulders slumped as if it was a physical weight that dragged at him, not one that clawed at his emotions.

He vaguely wondered what the others would do. Sango would most likely kill him, but he wouldn’t blame her though. He felt filthy, like a beast that had crawled up from the primal mud and wallowed in its own misery to long.

His hand tightened on the only bit of cloth he could find in the ruins of the hut. Water from above had dripped to the rutted worn floor, the soft pattering echoed dully through the still warm air as the rain beat a hollow sound on the roof.

He felt sick, wanting to purge the guilt and dark deeds from his mind of lock them away so deep they would never be found, but it wouldn’t help Inuyasha.

Inuyasha groaned softly, pulling the kimono even tighter around him, as if it could ward off the things in the dark that lurked just out of reach of the mind and eye.

He couldn’t get over the fear he saw in his eyes as he pinned him down to the floor, it would be something that would haunt him for a very long time.

He gently put his arms around his waist and carefully lifted the gravely injured hanyou off the floor despite Inuyasha’s weak protests; he wriggled slightly trying to escape his captor’s arms. His strength drained away, leaving him a whimpering ball of pain and sorrow.

Miroku tired to get the kimono off but Inuyasha had a grip only death’s cold skeletal grasp could relinquish on the pelt; there was no telling how bad his injuries had become. He decided not to push it. He needed to feel some thing secure after what had happened last night.

Part of the fire rat kimono slipped during Inuyasha’s weak struggle, revealing part of his thigh. The smooth tanned skin shined with sweat.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. His hand seemed to gain a mind of its own, seeking the warm flesh below, slipping loose the grip it had on Inuyasha waist, and slipping over the soft damp expanse of red fur that ruffled under his fingers.

He caught himself just as it neared the only thing keeping his own flesh from pressing against the half-breeds; he snatched the wayward hand back. Something stirred in his groin and he bit down on his lip in attempt to focus on anything but it.

Every time Inuyasha shifted slightly he unknowingly rubbed against the monks growing erection. Small bursts of fire danced behind his eyes like fireworks on a calm winter night sky—each showing the soft colors against a crisp, black back drop of night sprinkled by stars.

Inuyasha instinctively snuggled closer to the source of warmth, his clawed hands holding the monks robs tightly. His body screamed in pain with each move and his jaw clenched with each little creeping pain that ran up his spine, akin to serpents.

Miroku leaned farther back against the wall, trying his best to ignore the sensations that plagued him like a disease; it ate away at everything until it left behind a trail of burning nerves that lit up the sky like a forest fire made of the purest lust.

“Gods, do I love you. I..need you so bad.” His hot breath whispered against the soft ears that swiveled to catch his words.

He breathed deeply of the soft, woodsy scent of the hanyou, letting it fill his lungs and mind.

A hand gently pushed the fire rat pelt off a shoulder, exposing the soft, almost unflawed, skin that glowed under the soft flashes of lighting. His skin being heated by the fever that the monk had been trying to bring down, beads of salty sweat left a long trail behind as it made its way down his shoulder.

He let his questing fingers trace feather light patterns down his back under the pelt, feeling Inuyasha stir slightly in his sleep.

His tongue darted forth to catch the open mouth, sweeping across the dry cracked lips before pressing his own moist one firmly into Inyuasha’s. He licked the edges of his mouth and delved deeply in the hot sweet depths, craving his taste. His let his hands run through his damp hair, feeling the sickly strands caress his fingers.

“ M-Miroku... " Inuyasha’s harsh whisper was muffled by the forceful kiss, his clawed hands gripping the edges of his fire rat kimono weakly. His mind was clouded in a haze of pain and heat, making even the smallest move hard, as if his body was built of lead.

He struggled weakly, a wave of fear washed over him, giving him the much need strength to fight back. With one hand he pulled the kimono over him and tried to force Miroku off his body.

He looked up into the young monks eyes, searching for anything in desperation as his strength steadily bleed out; there was a heated lust that drove icy fingers down his spine. A hand snaked around and grabbed his wrist tightly in a vice-like grip.

He winced in pain, a few tears springing to his eyes as he shut them.

“ Fight it. What ever it is, fight it! Fight it, Miroku! Please fight it!” his mind screamed out to the cold uncaring darkness that threatened to shroud his vision.

His warm lips trailed kisses over his sweaty skin, down his throat and over his collarbone, drawing soft whimpers from Inuyasha; his eyes stayed tightly closed as a tear fell from them.

“ Fight it, fight it, fight it!” It was his mind that could scream; the only sound that came from his throat was a whimper or hiss of pain as his half-healed injuries were jarred. His demon blood was draining all the reserves it could find to heal the wounds, leaving him weak and nearly defenseless.

He squirmed under the gentle administrations as the only barrier between them was slowly removed. It was lowered till his shoulders were exposed to the cool air of the hut, his body was covered in sweat as Miroku pinned his arms behind his back, putting strain on a few of his injuries and causing them to bleed sluggishly.

His back arched and a yelp tore from his lips as a nipple was taken between the monks teeth and bitten none too gently on.

His eyes went wide as his limp manhood was engulfed by heat, the soft pads of a hand wrapped around it. He wriggled and squirmed to no avail, finally going limp.

His breath came in ragged gasps, bubbling rapidly in his chest. His once silver hair had hung around him in a dull matted hallo, his torn ears being pressed firmly against this skull as if he could keep out the sounds of his own moans.

Miroku let his hands run over the limp flesh, drawing soft gasps from its owner as his skilled fingers ran over the head.

Inuyasha turned his head away in shame, unable to stop the sensation that wracked his body. Tears fell freely from his eyes, washing over his hot skin.

He offered no resistance as the kimono was pulled away from his body and he was pushed backwards.

He barely registered his knees being pushed apart. He no longer cared; he was too hurt and too tired to fight anymore, even as his wrists were shoved roughly to the floor.

He closed his eyes, biting on his lower lip and ripping it with his fangs. Bitter, coppery blood, coughed on it as it flowed down his throat.

He screamed his pain into the night storm as he was thrust into, a few claws snapping off as he dug into the wood.

He did nothing but cry, the cold floor constantly reopening all the small wounds on his back wasn’t helping either. The pain all mixing into a sea of darkness that sucked him down, threatened to drown him with each dark wave that crashed over his head.

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The rain pounded down on him as he leaned against the tree, the rough bark digging into his back through his robes, but he felt neither.

Only the emptiness, and the crushing guilt.

His shoulders slumped under its weight, head bowed. His dark hair dripped with cold rain.

His arm ached form the bite he had received, four perfect, pearly white fangs had ripped into his flesh through the cloth. The pain throbbed, reminding he was alive.

His chest barely moved with the racking sobs—he was too tired to cry anymore. There was nothing left to give.

The rain could not wash away the sins he felt or the guilt, the heavy anguish smothered everything else.

He couldn’t get rid of the image in his mind as it was burned there; Inuyasha crouched in the far corner, his fire rat pelt held tightly around him. His uneven breathing could be heard above the rain and wind.

Out of concern he had tired to approach him, never hearing the low growl, only the pain of the bite and the awful look in his once vibrant eyes.

He shook with each dry, raking cry that came form his throat, tearing at the ground. Pulling great clumps of mud and grass up as he threw his head up and howled his pain at the heavens.

He had severely hurt a most gentle soul and very close friend. He no longer cared what the others would do to him; what ever they devised could not match the pain he felt inside, swallowing him up.

Inuyasha would never be able to forgive him, nor would the others.


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TBC

A Time to Heal, A Time to Forgive

do you hate me yet?