The Perfect Form by susie

Chapter 1

A/N:  Welcome to my 20th story!! 

I was wondering which one of my half-finished WIPs was going to make it out first and claim the slot! 

This is actually a sequel to another one shot of mine, CAVE PAINTING...  So if you haven’t read that, you will still be able to enjoy this just fine, you just won’t have the whole picture.  CP is my shortest fic at around 1500 words, so you should go read that real quick, leave a review, and then come back and read this, and leave a review, lol.  Sorry, I hate when stories come with homework and instructions. 

Anyway, hope you like it!! 

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The fire died down as the night wore on, causing the temperature to drop significantly. 

Sesshoumaru watched as Kagome rose from her seat, and helped herself to the dwindling pile of firewood in the back of the cave.  After throwing two more logs into the crackling fire, she resumed her seat across from him and started rubbing her hands together feverishly. 

He watched for a moment as she leaned in closer, trying to absorb as much warmth as she could.  He was interested at first in only her behavior, initially seeing this as an opportunity to observe the frailties of humanity up close.  But when a tremble wracked through her small, delicate frame, and graduated to an all-out shivering fit, he became incredibly uncomfortable. 

She was rubbing her arms, trying to create more friction, and paying more attention to the cold puffs of air her breath continued to make than the deadly predator she was hunkering down with. 

As a practice, it was probably not a good habit to make.  But his ability to remain so silent and so still for so long made the dangerous threat somehow easy to ignore. 

That was why she somehow missed it when the sexy dog demon began to strip, removing his large haori and crossing over to hand it to her. 

She saw the white silk out of the corner of her eye.  And when she turned to investigate, she was met with the alarming sight of Sesshoumaru.  Topless.  And extending his clothing out to her. 

A blush stained her cheeks as she lost the ability to speak, apparently.  Or move, leaving him to just stand there like that for a long, silent moment. 

Her hesitance caused him to scowl, and eventually lose the quiet game. 

“Take it.  You are cold.” 

Despite his frustration, his measured, commanding voice was silkier than the fancy garment he so generously offered her.  It ripped her from her stupor, and she jerked her neck to the side so quickly he worried she may have snapped it. 

“Oh, I couldn’t.” 

She kept her face away from him, embarrassment only mounting as she considered her coloring likely rivaled that of Inuyasha’s fire rat robes. 

But thinking about his clothing only reminded her of the demon lord standing beside her, and what he was not wearing. 

“You will.  You are under my care for the evening.  If you were to perish under my watch it would reflect poorly on This One.” 

She couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t sound upset.  She expected him to be annoyed with her for defying him, or wasting his precious time.  Or being the burden he thought it was his duty to bear. 

But as that cool, smooth silk of his baritone graced her ears once more, she noted he was enduring her bashful display with a kind of bored patience. 

“But then you will get cold.” 

Knowing he was not one to back down, be defied or defeated, she turned back just enough peek with one eye; pleased to find the honeyed depths of his own were for once not fixed in a glare. 

For some reason, she was also very pleased to find that unlike his tone, the way he was looking at her could not be described as bored at all.  The warmth in his eyes reminded her of the firelight crackling behind him, and seemed to highlight his concern... and betray his interest. 

She was trying very hard not to look anywhere but there.  But the intensity of his gaze was starting to fluster her even more than his half naked form. 

His strong, perfect, tantalizing musculature.  His tempting, taunting...  damn it! 

She’d dropped her gaze.   

And catching her mistake, she turned away from him again.  

“I do not get cold.” 

She couldn’t get the image of him out of her head.  She probably never would. 

His chest.   

His arms.   

His stomach... 

But as his words sunk in, they managed to distract her from being distracted. 

“Never?” 

She boldly turned toward him again, and found something in his eyes that had not been there a few seconds prior. 

Amusement. 

“No.” 

Her embarrassment forgotten, she creased her brow dubiously and began to size him up. 

And though she now raked her eyes freely over his very impressive frame, she was not consumed by the maidenly qualms he’d so effortlessly activated. 

She was looking at him like he was a problem she wanted desperately to solve. 

“How?” 

Her face had returned to its normal color, as her curiosity prevailed to keep her bashfulness at bay. 

The corners of his lips lifted just a little, and he extended his arm further, causing the silk to tremble insistently in his grasp. 

“Put it on, and I will tell you.” 

Looking down at his clothing, she blushed a little at her behavior.  But she did as he’d asked. 

Grabbing it tentatively, she put her arm through the sleeve, but it was so big on her much smaller frame that it started to slide off when she searched behind her for the other side. 

Catching it, lest his priceless haori become tainted by the cool stone below, he lifted it for her, and allowed her to find her way into his clothing. 

She smiled sheepishly in thanks, embarrassed anew at almost dropping the thing and soiling it, he offered no admonishment, or even a trace of irritation. 

He adjusted it for her on her shoulders, helping it fall more naturally.  As naturally as it could on someone several sizes too small for it. 

His hands felt nice as they grazed her; warm, even through the new layer.  And just as quickly, they were gone again, giving her the chance to pull her hair out from where it was trapped under the collar. 

When she turned, she was surprised to find he had taken a seat much closer this time.  Severed sections of a downed tree surrounded the fire he had made for them.  For her, she supposed, seeing as he apparently didn’t get cold. 

She remembered then that he wouldn’t even be stuck here if it wasn’t for her.  She felt a twinge of guilt for ruining his night with her mortal weakness. 

But when he chose to sit on the very log she had been occupying, she hoped that maybe he wasn’t minding so much. 

“I am a demon,” he declared obviously as she reclaimed her previous seat.  The seat now right next to him, on the very same section of tree.  “Quite a powerful one.  My body answers to me.  I simply instruct it to be an acceptable temperature.” 

Wrapping herself snugly in the oversized garment, her muscles relaxed instantly at the new warmth he’d provided. 

She still appeared confused.  She was looking at him, yes.  But her mind was cluttered with questions. 

“That’s it?  You just control it with your mind, or something?” 

The sight of her in his clothing, donning his family crest on her small, dainty shoulders, did things to him that he had not anticipated. 

Watching her cling so comfortably to the warmth he’d provided, beside the fire he’d built in the cave he’d found and furnished, his eyes glazed over with something primal.  Something instinctual. 

But he hoped she didn’t notice as her voice drew him away from whatever she was inducing in him.  As he subtly refocused his attention, it appeared she did not. 

“Hn.  My youki obeys me.  It is a skill learned in youth.”  Lifting his chin a bit, she recognized the prideful posture as he seemed to brag a little.  “I no longer need to even instruct it.  I am never anything but perfectly comfortable.” 

He decided to ignore the little smirk she tried to downplay, and watched with guarded interest as she gently rubbed the material at her arms up and down. 

“It's so warm,” she marveled.  She thought it would be cool to the touch.  But though the temperature outside was cold, whatever he was doing to it from the inside made it feel like it was fresh from the dryer.  “You must like to run hot.” 

She always knew the demon lord was hot, but she never assumed that meant literally. 

Embarrassed by the track her thoughts were trekking, she could no longer restrain her timid question for him. 

When she blushed and looked down, he was curious of her reasoning.   

When she lifted her eyes again slowly, he was captivated by her apprehension. 

When she shyly asked her question, he was floored at her audacity. 

“Can I feel?” 

“Beg your pardon?” 

She faltered a bit at his wide-eyed reaction.  She’d managed to startle him.  And while a feat on its own, it had not been her intention. 

She immediately regretted her presumptuousness, and cursed her tactless curiosity.  But it was already out there.  She couldn’t take it back.  So gathering her courage once more, she doubled down on it. 

“Your skin,” she clarified, suddenly aware of how forward and intimate a request it really was.  “Can I feel it?  I want to see.” 

His topless state, which for some impossible reason she had been able to ignore as he entertained her questioning, was once again overwhelming her senses. 

His chest; pale and firm and hairless looked sturdy, and smooth.  Lean as he was, he was not bulging with oversized muscle.  But she knew from experience how powerful his form really was.  She’d seen a foolish demon fly at him at full speed and collide violently with his unarmored chest. And while the demon crumpled upon impact, he didn’t budge an inch. 

His arms; long and strong and striped looked inviting, and soft.  Soft to the touch, of course.  Because the damage he had been able to inflict with just a casual flip of that wrist was devastating.  A lifetime – centuries for him – of swinging a heavy sword expertly, like it was nothing, surely contributed to the attractive shape they had taken.  His arms, plural, were not ones you wanted weaponized against you.  She remembered the only time she had seen one completely bared to her gaze was the day it had regenerated seemingly out of thin air.  But it wasn’t out of thin air.  His power brought that perfect arm back, oh and by the way, holding the most powerful sword ever forged to date.  Having one arm had never stunted him in the slightest.  But even though he’d acted like he could take it or leave it; she was relieved when he’d gotten it back.  It suited him. 

And his stomach; she’d never seen it before, and holy hell was it a crime to cover that up under all those layers of attire.  Even as he sat, not an inch of fat obscured her view of his gorgeously crafted abdominals.  She’d counted eight, but she didn’t know what was hiding beneath the waistband of his warrior’s pants... and she was determined not to think about it.  But the cuts of magenta angling suggestively down his hipbones made it difficult not to wonder.  And the small swirl of the same color just barely peeking out from where it disappeared into his pants a few inches below his navel had her mind reeling with the possibilities.  Like the rest of him, his stomach muscles were not overly large, but hard all over.  She wondered if he swam.  The only guys she’d seen on TV who were even close to what this demon had achieved were professional swimmers.  But that had her thinking about Sesshoumaru wearing a speedo, and she just couldn’t even deal with that image in her head right now. 

He seemed disturbed as he considered her request, and she deflated.  Of course he didn’t want her to touch him.  He probably considered it sacrilege for filthy human hands to touch his godly form.  And sitting beside him, feeling painfully inadequate in comparison, she was inclined to agree. 

She bit her lip guiltily, planning to tell him to forget about it.  That it was okay, she didn’t want to put him in the uncomfortable position of denying her.  But he surprised her with his acquiescence. 

Holding her gaze intently, any backpedaling she had planned on died in her throat as he hypnotized her with his warm, and she wanted to say... trusting eyes. 

Nodding once, he turned toward her. 

In a trance, she leaned closer, shocked, and somewhat excited to find that he hadn't indicated where she could touch him.  He offered no specific part of himself to her, made no recommendations or notions of preferences on his end.  Rather, all he did was bear himself to her, inviting her silently, allowing her indulgence. 

As he continued to watch her, he seemed very interested in where she chose to touch him.  She was curious herself, and nervous. 

Licking her lips anxiously, she perused his gorgeous body.  Openly, this time, as he seemed to welcome her intense scrutiny with unconcealed interest. 

Almost as if desirous of her acceptance, his anticipation mounted as he waited confidently to see what she would do. 

Not even a hint of insecurity would flare as he watched her sapphire eyes study his body with meticulous precision.  He knew what he was, how others envied him.   

Hated him.   

Wanted him. 

But for some reason, as he observed on baited breath while the miko almost aggressively raked over his perfect form, he found he desperately wanted her approval. 

Finally, after a matter of seconds that seemed to stretch years, she scooted a little closer, and lifted her right hand. 

Her hand; dainty and delicate and small, very small compared to his own.  But he knew the power contained in its deceptively harmless hostess.  He’d seen that hand fry a demon ten times her volume and one hundred times her strength which just a single, simple touch.  The way her aura had flared, right before her reiki rushed to the surface and sizzled with deadly intent shot shivers through his bones.  And the way that pink power jumped from her hand and obliterated the strong demon to dust right before his eyes caused his youki to manifest dangerously, instinctually protecting him from the formidable threat.  His whole body had thrummed, alert and excited and actually on edge at the prospect of anything being able to stir his defenses into such a terrible frenzy.  And she hadn’t even been aware of his presence. 

He’d seen how causally she unleashed her strength, as if it was an afterthought to call forth her horrifying power.  How the demon’s meager threat paled in comparison as her protective instincts came to life when he had threatened her kit.  The ferocity in her strange and beautiful eyes when she threw herself between them, and the unbridled fear in her opponent’s when just with a touch she removed him from this plain like he was no more than an insect.  Compared to her, he was. 

And now, she lifted that very hand toward him.  Inching it closer slowly, she paused a moment to look him square in the eyes.  Eyes which hadn’t left hers since the request left her soft, uncertain lips. 

She gathered her lip between her teeth, biting it gently and worrying it a bit as those uncommon blue eyes silently asked for permission. 

He was a little too quick to nod his response.  It was the closest to begging he might have ever come. 

He felt like a brainless daredevil in that moment.  Some careless, adrenaline addicted thrill seeker.  Because though he threw himself into what many perceived to be danger on a daily, and sometimes hourly basis, nothing he had done in all his many years had ever put his life at risk so recklessly as this. 

She could end him with a single spark. 

But though the ability was there, he knew she would never do it.  Not unless he made an attempt on the lives of her pack.  Even then, he was certain she would only use it as a last resort. 

He hadn’t realized how completely he trusted her until that moment. 

Decision made, she zeroed in on her target and let her hand complete its journey. 

Above his pectoral, and under his collarbone, he felt her tiny hand make contact with his scorching flesh.  It was cold in comparison, and all he could think was how negligent he had been to wait so long in aiding her warmth.  She had incredible power, but she was human.  Something as trivial as the weather could wink her out in a matter of hours. 

His muscle jumped under her touch, and she made a startled noise. 

Looking at him apologetically, she met his gaze once again. 

“Sorry.  Cold, huh?” 

She was, but that wasn’t what triggered the reaction.  Seeing no need to inform her, he only stared back with the intensity he’d leveled at her for the past several minutes. 

She kept her hand there, splayed flat across his chest.  He burned to her touch, so much that if he were human, she’d be certain of fever. 

The heat from his body warmed her hand up in seconds.  It felt nice.  So nice that she was tempted to rest her cheek against him, like a desert lizard on a sun baked rock. 

But of course, she wouldn’t.  It was bad enough she was silently judging how incredible and hard the muscle was beneath her palm.  Like he was something built, not born.  Something crafted to perfection. 

She didn’t want to pull away, and he hadn’t given her any indication he wished her to do so.  So she drew out the little exchange just a bit longer. 

“That’s really hot.”  It came out a bit breathier than she had intended. 

He looked back at her, and saw the perspiration on her brow.  Smelled it on her skin, and felt it accumulating between where they touched. 

“Too hot for a human, perhaps.” 

She smirked, wondering if he intended the innuendo.  Neither banking on it, nor putting it past him. 

“Feels nice to me.” 

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained silent.  She continued to smile a moment longer, then decided he’d indulged her long enough. 

She removed her hand, and suddenly he felt cold where she had left him. 

She scooted back to in her seat, giving him respectful space. 

It was awkward then.  Neither knew what to say, so silence continued.  She tried not to look at him.  It just seemed rude to stare at someone who wasn’t wearing a shirt, no matter how enjoyable a pastime. 

But each time she chanced a look, she just saw him staring back at her.  Like he was waiting for something.  Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, and chanced another uncomfortable question. 

“Okay, so I gotta ask.  What is your workout routine?” 

His consent to physical contact raised her confidence a bit.  And it wasn’t an altogether outrageous question.  But he was the picture of confusion, and she bit her cheek at how cute he looked with his one eyebrow cocked in her direction. 

“Explain.” 

Smiling, and looking down a second, she’d captivated his interest yet again. 

“You are in phenomenal shape,” she generously supplied.  When she looked up again after gathering her courage, she found he hadn’t reacted to the compliment. It sobered her a bit.  “Your body is perfect.  What do you do to stay that way?” 

“Nothing.” 

Now she looked confused. 

“Nothing?” 

“No.” 

It seemed impossible.  But she considered that maybe what he considered ‘nothing’ was swimming around the planet a few dozen times and launching ogre demons into space one-handed. 

“So what?  It's just battle, or wearing around that heavy armor, or what?” 

Her curiosity regarding him was amusing.  So he took no issue with educating her on the topic of him.  It was one of his favorite subjects and he knew it quite well. 

Finally, he relaxed as the intensity in his gaze lessened. That made her relax too. 

“Again, it is my youki.  I look the way I do because I command my body to do it.” 

She waited for more, but he seemed like he was done with the explanation. 

“You mean, you could look however you want?” 

He thought about it for a moment, before shrugging one bare shoulder.  The action caused several muscles beneath his skin to shift and flex pleasingly. 

“More or less, yes.” 

She seemed to be studying him again, and it made him sit up a little straighter.  He fought the demeaning urge to flex a little as she tapped a finger to her chin. 

“Well, that explains how you look.”  She looked him up and down.  She had to compliment his choices. If he was free to select his humanoid form, he sure picked a good one.  She had an image of some sort of catalogue of human forms for demons.  She could see his being the expensive deluxe model only the richest youkai could afford.   

“But what about other demons?  I have seen quite few ugly ones.  Why would any demon choose to look anything less than perfect?  Why don’t they all look like you?” 

His smirk was so impossibly smug she was actually dreading his answer. 

“They would if they could, but they cannot.  Not every youkai has as much power as I.  None do, in fact.  Had they more impressive power, they could have more control over their forms.” 

“So, you’re saying that the prettier the youkai, the greater the power?” 

He glared at her for the offense of calling him pretty, but because of all her recent praise of him, he decided to let it slide. 

“Not necessarily.  The powerful youkai has to choose to look ‘pretty’.”  She smiled wide at his obvious disapproval.  “Not all demons desire to appear so pleasing.  Some opt instead to look more fearsome.” 

She guessed the point of being a demon was to be scary.  Realizing that, she regarded him suspiciously. 

“So, you’re just kind of vain that way?” 

He lifted his nose and turned away, in an effort look offended.  It took all she had not to giggle at him.  Was he trying to be ridiculous, or did it happen organically? 

“I do not need to appear fearsome.  Those who doubt my power are informed of it soon enough.” 

She’d give him that one.  When it came to power, he certainly had nothing to prove.  Not anymore. 

She momentarily pondered how someone so powerful and so scary could put her so much at ease.  Here she was, sitting in a small cave with Lord Sesshoumaru for hours on end, and she was comfortable enough with him to let her guard down and even joke around a little bit.  It never once crossed her mind that he may cause her any harm, even though he certainly could. 

She’d even made fun of him.   

Ogled him.   

Touched him.   

Maybe she didn’t value her life as much as she thought she did. 

“Then why do you choose to look like you do?” 

The smug smile returned to the corners of his lips as he shifted his eyes back down to her.  But she didn’t dread his response this time.  She was looking forward to it. 

“Given the choice to look like this, would you not?” 

He deserved his smugness.  He had earned it.  He was beautiful, and he knew it.   

So, she might as well just sit back and enjoy the show. 

“I think you might just like to show off,” she accused, trying to act annoyed.  He shrugged, those muscles near his neck shifting beautifully again.   

‘Hm, case in point.’ 

“Perhaps.   Any who see me would be aware that I must be of great power to achieve such perfection.” 

She watched him inspect his claws and try not to smirk.  She thought she saw his slit pupils flick sideways to her for half a second. 

“You’re kind of a brat.” 

Lifting a brow at the disrespect, he turned to her fully, and she thought she was finally in trouble.  Maybe outright name calling was a bit too far, even if he seemed to enjoy some light teasing. 

“Not all of us are so lucky as you, to be born with such beauty.  Some of us must create it ourselves.” 

A long beat of silence gave Kagome just enough time to absorb, unscramble, and process his simple statement. 

Any retort she had planned in response vaporized into thin air.  Mind blank and tongue tied, she was suddenly good for little else than staring back at him, mouth unattractively ajar, with what she was sure had to probably be the most unintelligent expression she had ever achieved. 

Pleased to have finally rendered the young woman speechless, he returned to inspecting his claws.   

Disbelief overwhelmed her aura as she registered the unexpected compliment, soon followed by wave after wave of utter embarrassment. 

No longer able to resist, he chanced a look at her face to find it had returned to that endearing shade of pink he had become so fond of, and was growing quite practiced at inducing. 

She’d managed to gather herself for the most part, and tried her best to block his strangely flattering statement from her thoughts for now.  She would mull over it later, when he wasn’t so distractingly close. 

But still, she was rather annoyed he could say such a thing to her, and be so causal about it.  It was about the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.  Certainly the nicest thig he had ever said.  And he said it so easily, like it was nothing.  A nice pretty little bomb he’d placed neatly in her lap, and then flew away to leave her picking up the pieces. 

She cleared her throat, and he lifted his brow again expectantly. 

“So are you saying you were an ugly baby?” 

He didn’t withhold his smile, and after a moment, she finally caved as well. 

“No.  I was born with great power.” 

Of course.  She didn’t know why she asked. 

But sitting with him was nice, and they still had several hours until morning. 

If the acid rain outside was letting up, neither seemed willing to acknowledge it. 

So she tried to think of more questions, to keep them occupied and pass the time. 

And distract her from the impossibly beautiful demon sitting topless at her side. 

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A/N:  One shot, one scene, nice and easy and clean XD 

So the whole basis for this story, and CP was that I just spend a lot of time thinking about Sesshoumaru, and his body, and how it works, and what he does with it, and I wanted him to answer my questions, lol. 

Any sequels I add to this series will revolve around my thoughts on how/why he is the way he is.   I don’t have anything else in mind rn, but if/when I do, this is the collection it will go in, but as a completely separate one shot. 

TBC???  There’s always a chance...