InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Strange Bedfellows ❯ Strange Bedfellows ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: Pure, undiluted crack, this is. Because, really, Crack is fun. And SessxMiro is so love. Mm.

Beta-ed and what not by AMmeh-chan who says go ahead and blame her, since she was the one who was talking about SessxMiro being hot, but, I suppose, I should shoulder some of the blame for this one. Besides, she's a MiroxSango fangirl, so what’s the harm.

Ehh. I had way, way to much fun with this. Seriously.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, the plot would probably more resemble a cheap porno plot than anything. -dies-

…..

Miroku was used to waking up in strange places, with strange bedfellows. He figured it was just the price one had to pay when they were as desired as himself. He had long ago resigned himself to a fate of early death, so he figured he wouldn’t bother trying to settle down, and strangers were always welcome.

Flashes, fire dancing beneath his skin. Fine hands tracing patterns, caressing across skin and he wondered on how something he had seen kill others so easily could feel that good. It was lust and it was fire and it was-- Oh, oh, that was nice.

But he wasn’t used to waking up with aches in weird places (Well, he was, sort of), and that worried him a little. He really wasn’t used to waking up warm and content and with someone else’s arms around him. And he definitely wasn’t used to the cascade of silver colored hair that was draped across him.

Trying very hard not to hyperventilate, for fear it was InuYasha (Oh god, Sango was going to kill him, and so was Kagome, if it was), Miroku slowly turned his head to look behind him.

Grunts and moans, hot breath washing across shoulders and faces and other places as they gave and they took, hot and hard and fast. The sensation of being filled and full, and cries echoing, the feeling new, and pleasurable, and painful and everything.

And met with Sesshoumaru’s face in sleepy repose watching him from narrowed golden eyes.

Miroku figured he had about 30 seconds to live.

……..

“Oh, gods, please, don’t kill me--”

Sesshoumaru thought it was amusing, how the human pleaded, and cried and begged that he not kill him. He also thought it was arousing, having someone beg him, but that was besides the point.

“--So sorry, I’ll never do it again, I swear I won’t ever come near you again if you don’t want me to--”

Sesshoumaru remembered everything from the night before, with full clarity and surround sound (He’d heard his brother’s wench use that phrase once, though he didn‘t know what it meant), and he didn’t actually mind. The Monk had been very, very drunk though. He supposed he should feel sorry for taking advantage, but he didn’t, not really.

It wasn’t wrong, but it sure as hell wasn’t normal, but it felt good, so he writhed and cried out, and felt the other stiffening, just like him, until there was a rushed, warm, heated sensation, falling over the cliff together, falling and falling until they collapsed in a pile of limbs, sweat and slick skin pressed against skin.

“--I won’t tell anyone, I swear I won’t, just please, please, don’t kill me. Think of my children, or, or think of my friends, and, and… I won’t tell, I swear, just let me explain--”

Sesshoumaru simply quirked a brow at the cowering human, before deciding he had enough of the whimpering and the whining, unless it came for a different reason. That, he wouldn’t mind. Moving faster than Miroku could follow, Sesshoumaru pinned the other to the bed, and sought to recapture the night before.

Miroku only could yelp, then give in, and decide that, really, this wasn’t all that bad a way to die.

….

End A/N: The way I see it? If I’m going to hell, I might as well enjoy it while I’m at it.