Yui (frozenspring) wrote,

  • Mood:

Challenge fanfic: "Black"

Title: "Black"
Author: Takiko (Yui)
Fandom: Inu Yasha
Class: Challenge fanfic
Type: shonen-ai (Yaoi) drama with a touch of humor
Pairing: Inu Yasha and Miroku
Rating: PG-13
Summary: For the no beginning and no ending challenge issued at temps_mort in the past. Possible spoiler if you have not seen any of the series.
Disclaimer: All characters and story for Inu Yasha are from the goddess Rumiko Takahashi. I am just borrowing them a bit.
Note: This took the whole 45 minutes to type and spell check. This is my first attempt at Inu Yasha fandom. And my first thing I ever wrote for Inu Yasha. ^^;;


By: Takiko (Yui)


Miroku moved and touched the midnight strands that laid across his body and brushed into his face. It was thick, soft and he lifted a handful and smelled it. Spice, rain, dirt. The young monk was laying on the ground curled up into a warm body. They were both fully clothed more or less. Both in their long white under garments. The rough blanket, that they both rested on, scrunched up in bothersome wrinkles scratching his skin, and the hard earth was lumpy under him. But the discomfort really didn’t matter as he let his fingers pet the hair that fell over him like vines of ivy. Miroku was silently peaceful and amazed at the same time. The clouds and trees hid the sky and only the dull glowing embers of the faint camp fire lit the area. It was dark and not even the stars pierced through the overcast sky to twinkle with their sharp crystalline light. The light wind brought a tang of burnt wood to his nostrils to mix with the scent that he already smelled. He let his wrapped hand rest on the shoulder of the resting form that lay so close to him, the one whose hair covered him like a sparse sheet from the night winds. The body was somehow softer now, not as ridged and thick the muscle his fingertips discovered. However, still sinewy and tough from welding a sword and travel. His fingers glided down the arm.

A pair of eyes lazily opened and a tongue came to wetten dry lips. Eyes that were more human yet seemed to glitter like lost diamonds in dark earth. Inu Yasha grunted and sleepy pushed the monk’s hand away.

“What the hell are you doing?” The voice tried to sound forceful but it was thick and sloppy from sleep.

“I was smelling your hair.” Miroku said in cheerful quiet tone that held a touch of wonderment. “It smells quite good.”

Inu Yasha opened his eyes wider and was now glaring at him. “You are what?! What the hell you doing that for?” The irritated edge in his voice was appearing. Miroku found that amusing.

“Oh, like you don’t do the same thing. Use your nose?”

“That is different.”

“If you say so,” the monk only smiled at that and moved his face to bury it into the other’s shoulder. Soaking up the earthy spicy scent and cushion his cheeks in the softness. “It’s black.” He mummered more to himself then to Inu Yasha.

“I know that!” Inu Yasha turned away and sat up aburtly causing the monk’s head to thud on the ground.

Miroku blinked at the sudden movement then moved his head to rest onto the half demon’s lap. He was remembering the moonlight silver hair the haloed his head and caressed down his back. Now it was black. Dark as a starless night, like tonight. He always amazed him.

“It changed when we were sleeping,” the monk said lightly.

“Tell me something I don’t know!” Inu Yasha’s arms crossed over his chest and squeezed tighter into it. It was like he didn’t want to show any weakness and he looked away. His eyes stared at the tiny sparkes that jumped in the fire. “I should tend the fire, it is dying.” He shifted his legs slowly as if they were cramping up from Miroku’s head laying on them and unfolded his arms to push up.

Miroku's head moved off the lap and grabbed one of his hand before he got up. “I was wondering if I could be on top then since it is the new moon.” The monk stared up at the youthful face that shot a look of displeasure and annoyance.

“What? In your dr..ea...ms...” Inu Yasha stammered out. His voice stopped in a tiny strange strangled sound as the monk rested his lips on his hand.

“I’m serious.”

“Since when?” His hand curled up in a fist which didn’t deter the monk whose lips kissed it again, his tongue darting out to lick the clinched hand.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic
    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.