(The Point of No Return)
by Lady Mac
A/N: First of all, this is SHOUNEN AI!!! Das heisst, two guys are gonna get it on, for you non-initiated types.
Okay, since that's out of the way... This is just a little fluffy one-shot that I came up with one day and decided to post. There's really no plot, just some character exploration. Nothing explicit, either, although I do make some references to stuff that young chilluns don't know nuthin' 'bout. (Too ... much ... Oklahoma!)
So ... uh, on with "Event Horizon"! A note on that - in a black hole, the event horizon is the point from which nothing can escape the hole's gravitational pull, not even light. And the subtitle is a not-so-subtle reference to The Phantom of the Opera.
Disclaimer: Miroku, Inuyasha, and all the others don't belong to me. Oh how I wish they did ... ahem.
Miroku gently cradled the troubled hanyou's head against his bare chest, and Inuyasha's eyes closed. Here with Miroku he finally felt safe and secure. As odd as it was, this was where he knew he was meant to be. "Miroku."
"My Inuyasha." The monk stroked the long silver hair that cascaded down his lover's back. His strong frame trembled, and Miroku held him tighter.
Kagome had not taken her discovery well, and Inuyasha had had to face not only her abuse, but his own confused feelings for her. It was true that he had loved Kikyou during her life, and that he still held very strong feelings for Kagome. These were feelings he had thought to be love; he had acted with the belief that he did love her, and that they were destined to be together. He never guessed that the reason the sight of her body did not arouse him was that he was gay. Homosexuality itself had not even entered his awareness until he had stumbled across a manga book in Kagome's room - it was called Gravitation, he remembered, and the feelings it had stirred in him were fare more intense than anything he had felt for a woman.
That night he dreamt of Miroku. The dream was vivid, erotic, and passionate, and he was awakened before its climax by a blushing girl who obviously assumed from his refusals to discuss it that it had been about her. He was far too embarrassed by it to correct her, but was careful not to lead her on more that was necessary to continue the charade.
The dream came again several weeks later, after they had exorcized a troublesome demon from the home of a wealthy nobleman. Men's and women's rooms had been provided, though Shippou had opted to sleep with Kagome and Sango, leaving the two men alone together.
Inuyasha woke suddenly, still feeling the release of his orgasm, and looked up into Miroku's unreadable face. "What are you looking at?" he demanded, thought the sleep paralysis still held him to the futon.
"You," the monk replied casually. "Did you enjoy your dream?"
Inuyasha blushed furiously and wrenched himself into a sitting position. "That's none of your business, bouzu!"
"Isn't it?" Miroku placed one hand on Inuyasha's thigh, effectively preventing him from standing up. "You were moaning my name."
The hanyou suddenly found he couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to make of the situation. The object of all his secret desires knew of them now, and the residue of his dream was soaking through his borrowed yukata and into the bedding. He didn't know if Miroku had seen him in the dark, but he needed to get it off him. He shifted uncomfortably. "Miroku, if ... if you don't mind, I need ... I need to ..." He trailed off and glanced nervously at his crotch.
"So you did come," Miroku said, pulling his hand away.
"I need to wash up," he said, standing quickly. "There's a river out behind the mansion; I'll find a sheltered spot. Bring my clothes for me."
The monk nodded silently, and Inuyasha hurried outside. After explaining himself briefly to the night guard, it didn't take him long to find a bit of the stream that was partially obscured by some bushes. He waded in, and the cold, slow-moving water was a decided relief against his hot skin. He submerged himself, still clothed, letting the coolness soothe his passions and carry the sticky residue away.
Miroku was standing by the bank when he popped up, and the red cloth he held stood out in the moonlight against the stark whiteness of his yukata. "Feel better?" he asked, keeping his gaze in Inuyasha's face.
"Yeah." He lowered himself in the water, realizing that the cloth clinging to him was as good as transparent now. Gods, he felt so awful! Miroku probably wouldn't want to be around him now at all. He'd lose his best friend because of some stupid wet dream. And realistically, he'd have rather kept Miroku as a friend than risk pursuing him as a lover.
"Are you all right?"
He looked up, then sighed deeply and mumbled his thoughts aloud. There was a long pause before Miroku spoke.
"What makes you think you've lost my friendship?" he asked, choosing his words carefully.
"Don't you get it?" the hanyou exploded. "I'm in love with you! I need you, I want you. It's ... it's way too awkward." He turned away suddenly, crouching low so the water came to his chin.
Soft splashing approached him from behind, and two warm arms wrapped gingerly around his shoulders.
"What ... what are you doing?" he choked.
"I don't know," Miroku whispered, resting his head at the juncture between Inuyasha's neck and shoulder. "I just know that ... that I can't let you be alone."
Unable to think, Inuyasha turned gently into Miroku's embrace and moved them both until the monk's back was against the soft river bank. With their faces no more than a breath apart, he looked down into the soft brown eyes that watched him curiously, waiting to see what he would do next.
Inuyasha elected to simply let his eyelids fall, and he softly closed the distance between their lips.