What I Want, What You Like by ECCougar

Chapter 1

Dedicated with love to our darling reviewer on the Citrus Channel to Milomai19, who has helped shape many fictions and given some of us Sesshoumaru/Kagome shippers a reason to write. Thank you for encouraging creativity, darling!

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Coffee didn’t fix anything. Sitting there staring blankly at a steaming black cup filled with too much sugar and cream made her stomach roil harder than it already had. Every other day for a week, they’d met at this cafe, nestled in the darkest, dirtiest part of Tokyo she could find. She had wanted to suggest a bar, but realized adding alcohol to her misery would end badly, and sitting across the table was a demon she wasn’t sure she recognized anymore. His hair was still unruly silvered white, an errant tangle of strands from hastily putting the medium length of hair still framing one side of his face. Skin, pale as the moonlight was a stark contrast to the darkness consuming their little corner of their late night cafe. Even Kagome felt out of place, pulling the collar of the long sleeved dress closer to her chin as though to hide herself from the world’s prying gaze.

She’d come prepared, wearing a pair of large sunglasses and a hat to hide her face; she was ready for the misery, knowing now better than ever that she could barely handle the stories he was telling. His impassive face and tone made it... Impossible. She wanted to be angry, shake some kind of emotion in him; but the apathetic tone made it easier to contain the inevitable break-down that came as the stories passed through his mouth. Last week’s horror was Miroku. He looked tired that week, visible rings beneath the usually perfect demon’s tarnished golden eyes. And the week before had been Kaede. She’d only known him in this era a handful of weeks; their first meeting was cigarette based. She’d picked the bad habit up from a troublesome little brother, who had taken up the whole vaping nonsense in the last few years.

She wasn’t interested in the bull shitty fruit flavors; Since her life in fairy-tale stereo had come to a shattering close, the only time she imbibed in false bravado was when she was writing about it. She’d come out of the office, fighting with an editor about tone and voice when she had practically fled the office, head down to light a cigarette to combat the murder sparking in her fingers. The lighter in her hand was lit when she smacked into him, nearly lighting him on fire as she swore loudly, crassly, and only once more in shock when she looked up into his narrowed eyes. There was no spark of recognition in him, but she felt it flood her in an act of depredation that deflated all of her anger.

She had uttered his name and those eyes further narrowed, snatching at her arm and dragging her to the nearest alley to slam her against a wall and aim poisonous claws at her to demand who the fuck she was and how she knew his true name. A small, treasonously suicidal part of her wanted him to drive those acid-laced daggers into her brain so she could finally relent her misery. But she managed to push out her name, who she was, and how she knew his name. He’d left her with a black embossed card with a couple numbers on it, which she had called and now, here they were. She was waiting on Sango’s story today, Sesshoumaru looking a picture of tranquility she envied. The only thing about himself he hid was his ancestral markings. His face bare was an odd revelation that still didn’t quite cut him as a normal everyday, being all photo-worthy angles. She sipped at the swill on the table, regretting her momentary lapse in memory of how it made her stomach stir disquietingly.

“Perhaps try not to hit me this time, yes?” He said softly, leaning with his elbows framing the table as he thumbed his own cup of espresso. Miroku’s story had been offensively lame in its abruptness. He’d been traveling to a village to help dispel some remaining demons from Naraku’s demise in the years after she’d been gone, leaving his wife and children at home when he’d been attacked on the road by a band of mercenaries. The fight that ensued had been brief and anticlimactic, as the men had run him through with a rusty sword, stripped him of his clothing and valuables, and left his body on the side of the road while his head had been spiked and marked with their clan-name cut into his flesh.

It wasn’t so much Sesshoumaru’s quickening with the story as it was his impassioned voice intoning his weaknesses that made Kagome stand and slap the daiyoukai across the face once, then twice, and when he looked ready to stand up and return the favor, she had put the fear of the Gods on his face by charging her last strike with holy powers in a fist over his jaw. It left a smoldering imprint on his face, even as tears began spilling down her cheeks and the other patrons watched her stalk out of the cafe in shock. She hadn’t looked back, almost didn’t come the following week when he texted her. But she had to know. Needed to. And here she was. This one was bound to hurt far more than the others.

“Tell me about Sango.” She demanded softly from behind the cover of her shades. “And keep your awful opinions about them to yourself. Just the story.”

He tilted his head at her and his upper lip quirked as though he intended to snarl but he began.

“She never found the monk’s body. Didn’t know what happened. There had been rumors around the village she lived in he was sniffing around other females’ doors, and that it was possible he’d run off with one of the young girls in the village.” He drawled. His hooded eyes watched for her reaction curiously despite the glasses, and Kagome fought to keep a lid on anything hormonal that would give the bottoming of her stomach away. She felt like wretching, because she had writer’s intuition telling her what was coming and she hated herself for the tears that were going to come.

“She managed to live through her youngest child’s six birthday before she took her life, two years after her mate disappeared. Her oldest child of thirteen found her body in the hut they shared after a day of foraging, dressed in the old slayer clothes she’d put away and was propped against the demon bone weapon. She had used one of her poisoned naginata to slit her wrists, so if someone had caught her in the act of cutting, they would not be able to stop the poison from ruining the rest of her.”

Kagome stood so abruptly her coffee spilled as she stumbled outside into the alleyway to vomit. She made it to the back of the building before her stomach heaved and a choked sob made its way past her lips even as she leaned her hand dizzily against the wall. Guilt flooded her and the tears began afresh. Why was she dragging this out? She was dying inside, hoping that maybe the time in between would give her time to recover... But it was slowly dawning on her that not a single death she’d been told about had had signaled there was any kind of happiness upon her departure from the past.

The roil in her stomach had subsided and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She could feel his presence behind her, and a glance back showed he was indeed, with his hands in his pockets. He was infuriatingly calm. She hated the one-sided nature of this emotion, wished she’d had his centuries to process.

“Rip it off like a bandage. Just... Tell me.” She said softly, deceptively calm.

“Inuyasha killed himself in reckless battle. The fox kit lives, but has disappeared from this continent having gone mad from watching the deaths and disappearance of loved ones and is feral. Kirara was killed in battle beside Sango’s children, one of which survived and managed children of their own before dying of disease. Their line continues to this day, but only by sheer luck.”

Kagome’s stomach heaved again and she fought the waves of nausea, removing her sunglasses and shutting her eyes.

“What do you mean, reckless battle...?” she asked, voice quivering. She could hear the smug tone and wanted to rip him apart.

“After your disappearance, his quest for full demon blood resumed with nothing to anchor him. He lost his life a mere fifty years after your disappearance and his friends’ deaths, warring with a clan he was incapable of defeating on his own.”

She felt her knees shiver and give out. To her surprise, he caught her in a smooth motion that had him cradling her weight breezily and escorting her back into the cafe to sit beside him. Her whole world crumbled again, just as it had when she’d been violently shoved back into a reality she didn’t want to be in all those years ago. As he sipped his espresso, her shaking hands found her smokes and lighter, hoping motions of familiarity would bring her back into the present world. Everything was dingy gray around her, and her hands were still shaking so hard gave a small curse of frustration, a new wave of tears forming as she tried to light the smoke settled between her lips.

Sesshoumaru’s exasperated huff and snatch of her lighter startled her, but he carefully lit the smoke and sat the lighter on the table. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled and exhaled, remembering what it felt like to breath. The sting of her lungs made her feel a bit more alive, but the numbness that tingled in the rest of her extremities remained.

She didn’t even feel his arm drape around her as he continued to peruse the cafe, sipping slowly on a now cold and bitter espresso. All she knew, was the world had lost some of its shine, and there was no way she’d be able to get it back. They stayed like this for an hour until she quietly excused herself. He offered to follow and she’d not responded, walking in zombie-like cadence towards the small apartment she owned not far from where they’d been meeting. He had followed when no answer was given. Everything stayed empty. Her now grayed apartment, the kitchen, the cleaned bedroom. Everything was emptied, and there was a coldness to her that she didn’t understand. Shock was nothing like anyone had described as it settled like a cold pit in her soul. A snapping sound brought her back into her bedroom.

Sesshoumaru stood in front of her, studying her.

“You are not fit to be left on your own.” He finally said after a long silence between them. “You don’t even know where you are.”

She opened her mouth to protest and was silenced by his clawed finger on her mouth and an irritated glance from him. He blinked a few times, and she could see the wheels turning in his head. Briefly she wondered what he was thinking.

“We must warm you.” He finally announced softly. Kneeling in front of her, he removed one shoe, then the other, followed by each of her socks. He left the room briefly, searching, and she heard water. Kagome wanted to rise, to tell him to get out, but that chill plagued her and the numbness in her fingers made them hard to move. Suddenly she felt weighted, tired, and her throat tightened again at the realizations that pestered her like bad memories. Sesshoumaru appeared again and she hadn’t realized she’d been crying again until he pried her hands away from her face.

“Breathe.” He commanded gently. She felt her chest tighten, throat close, and all she could do was cry more. Sesshoumaru seemed at almost a loss. The arrogant asshole he’d been was beginning to disappear, his true face emerging from behind the placidity he wore as a well placed mask.

“Breathe.” He repeated softly, brows knitting in frustration. It was his hot hand on her wet cheek that brought the breath back to her burning lungs.

“I feel so heavy.”

His eyes searched her face, and she looked away, unable to stand the beautiful gold reminding her of another man. His lips on hers in a soft brush turned her attention back, and his face was briefly replaced with his brother’s. All that heaviness and anguish rolled over her in a sudden desperate desire to conserve those memories. There was no guilt as she pretended Sesshoumaru was Inuyasha, finally responding deftly with her hands cupping his cheeks and stroking his cheek with her thumbs in love. His clawed fingers were not his - they were Inuyasha’s working over the sweet spots on her hips. The moans were inspired by Inuyasha, and she closed her eyes, willing the fantasy further as he tugged at her shirt. Pulling the fabric over her head and tossing it aside, she languished in the frantic pace of his fingers as the tugged at the rest of her clothing. She was naked in his arms, tucked into his chest as she kissed him to pretend like nothing was gray, her life meant more, and this feeling would go away while she had Inuyasha in her arms.

The warmth of the water sprayed over her, barely interrupting her need. There was nothing sexual about holding this man in her hands, the one pressing her into the cold tile of her shower. He’d not even had the presence of mind to remove his pants, having only dropped the black tee he was wearing right outside the shower. She felt the grayness subside, the emptiness warming with the cascade of hot water and the towering demon between her thighs. The hardness of his chest, the heat of his life pressed to her, and Kagome’s head stretched back as his fangs nipped at her pulse, covering her in sharp kisses that stung with the water. She barely had time to register the hardness of his length on her thigh before he was buried inside of her, and the cry she loosed was not one of desire or surprise - but frustration. She couldn’t feel him.

“Harder.” She demanded, hands fisting in his hair as his hips rolled into her. It wasn’t enough, and she couldn’t get what she needed, the frustration in her was a wailing banshee that needed to be shut up, sated, locked away.

“Goddammit I said harder.” She cried out, finally looking at the demon, who had stilled in front of her. His eyes were swimming in molten gold and the contravention of what she wanted and who with was beginning to settle in her stomach like lead. His eyes studied, head tilted in the warm cascade of water, and it wasn’t until her eyes glazed with unshed tears he snarled. Rearing his head back, he clamped down on her breast, fangs and all until there was blood and the world burst into color again with her scream of pain. His thrusting began anew when he released her breast, bruising and angry along with the acidic prick of his fingers. The pain, the delicious pain that fluttered through her reanimated her.

“Yes...” She whispered, repeating it like a mantra louder and louder. Sesshoumaru huffed as he fucked her, and her breath came in short pants as they reveled in the pain together until they were both spent in the shower. Kagome’s feet settled on the floor of the shower carefully, and Sesshoumaru peeled the rest of the way out of the faded jeans he’d let soak through with water.

He didn’t say anything else, turning her away from him and touching her only to help her wash. They stepped out, dried, and he assisted her to bed, climbing in behind her and wrapping her in his warmth. Eyeing the room, she felt that grayness closing back in. His news had already curled around her like thick smoke tuning out the color of her world; but even that had been muting itself the longer things wore on. She was tired of fighting the depression, and the only place it didn’t feel like it could intrude was right here, pressed against the chest of someone she didn’t love.

~*~

She was fighting with that same fucking editor again. He’d complained that since the last time they’d spoken, her fairy tale had taken a dark and unsatisfying turn for readers.

“Too fucking bad, Dave. Happy endings are a joke in this life!” She shrieked at him, throwing a glass from the board room in the middle of the meeting with her publishers and sending it crashing into the thick glass behind him. Her heavy breath and angry visage had one of the female editors coaxing her out. Sayu looked concerned, but the empty maw of Kagome’s chest couldn’t find the emotional responses to care. David wasn’t wrong - Kagome had changed. They just hadn’t noticed the fading colors in her world because she’d been hiding it for so long, until it finally just bled away leaving a colorless, tasteless, scentless expanse before her.

Sesshoumaru had disappeared in the night, and left her to the stifling emptiness chilling her apartment, and hadn’t messaged since. That was three months ago, and her update for the paneling office was due at least a week ago. She’d turned a piece in, and it wasn’t to the satisfaction of the group, so she’d overturned it multiple times until she finally put her foot down in the boardroom. She shook out of Sayu’s concerned hands and went to the stairwell before she lit a new cigarette. It smoldered between her fingers, one arm crossed over her chest as the other flicked the occasional ash away from the end of the cigarette. Puffing piece by piece, she wanted to that pretense again. Whatever it had been that brought the warmth and color back to her life. She glanced down at the card in her hand and called the secondary number on it.

“Takamora’s office.”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a guy with white hair. He gave me this card and his cell number.”

“You must mean Mr. Takamora.”

“Sure, whatever. Put me through.”

“I’m afraid he’s in a business -”

“Fine. Give me your address.”

The secretary rattled off an address and Kagome hung up the phone. She was there in minutes, and parked in the large concrete lot adjacent to the building, followed the signs for Takamora’s office, and found it. There was a feeling, something foreign mounting in her that was ugly in its insistence. She felt out of control as the door to the office that was his slammed open. His secretary jumped at her arrival, but wasn’t quick enough to stop her as she opened the door to the office that was Sesshoumaru’s.

He sat leaned against his desk with the phone off the hook on speaker, eyebrow quirked in annoyance when she opened the door. Surprise colored his face at first, then gave way to suspicious confusion.

“I need you.” She said, feeling her heart begin pounding. There was a flash in that gold that sent her spiraling and the chill began wearing away, crumbling like paper on fire being eaten away by embers around it. The woman behind her began apologizing and reached for her, but a loud snarl stopped his secretary and the threat in his eyes sent her scurrying away. Kagome gripped the dark red tie that was loosed around the collar of the mussed silver button up and pulled him down to press his lips against hers, unwilling to be stuck in the colorless haze anymore. He didn’t protest in the slightest, instead gathering her up like a coveted prize and biting down on her lip to inspire a new cry of pleasured pain.

“I just.. I need you to fuck me.” Came her strained request.

“Shoma, what the fuck - ”

The phone shattered against the far wall and she was on his desk, cradling his face and demanding the colorful agony she needed to function in this world again.

~*~

It kept happening like this. She would be hollowed and empty, and he would fill her empty spaces with new memories that Kagome would turn around and recolor, or forget. She felt nothing but a gnawing need, and when it was briefly satisfied, she would go. Inside, there was no love, nothing affectionate, only the pounding of loss between them when she felt lonely. He rarely spoke when they were together, mostly because she never gave him the opportunity and left quickly and quietly as she had come. With his help, she was able to push past the block in her, and mustered the happy smiling piece her publishers wanted from her on the condition she could write something new on the side with some time away. They had begrudgingly agreed, but were left with their shitty masterpiece. She’d cut down on the cigarettes if only because the one time he’d spoken, he’d mentioned the stink on her. He’d messaged, invited her over for coffee or something of similar vagueness, and she had agreed in a one letter response.

Entering his studio apartment was odd, all red brick and industrial fixtures. He sat on his sofa with a book in hand, hair mussed around his face and his markings brilliant over his cheeks and forehead. Mournfulness threatened to spill into her at the recollections of his former glory, but she fought it like a wildcat, shoving it into a box in her mind.

“What did you want?"

“Sit.” He didn’t even look up from his book, instead palming a glass of white wine for a sip. She sat, albeit a bit awkwardly, unsure of what the point was of coming here if he was just going to read.

“What do you want?” She repeated, more forcefully.

“Would you like a glass?” He inquired tonelessly. Her mouth pursed.

“No. Why am I here, Sesshoumaru?”

“Must I have a reason?”

She frowned.

“I guess not.”

“Then hush. Sit. Lounge.”

Confused, she stood and shook her head, going for the door. He was in front of her before she realized he’d moved at all.

“Get out of my way, Sesshoumaru.”

“No.”

Her fingers pricked with holy power.

“I said move. Or I will move you.”

“What do you really want with me, Priestess?” He was finally beginning to show anger. “You show up in the oddest of places, demanding to be filled. I’m doubting its with my cock, because half of the time there is no orgasm on your part. Most of it is you lying there faking it.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I am no doormat. You do not get to set up shop in my life, show up when you please, take what you want whenever and leave. Relationships that are healthy do not function healthily when only one party receives.”

“So the sex isn’t enough for you? Because correct me if I’m wrong, but I have yet to feel you not cum, let alone complain that you wanted more.” She retorted hotly.

“You aren’t fixing the problem, Kagome.” He answered hotly. “At what point will you acknowledge this grief and move on? When will it be this Sesshoumaru in front of you instead that half-breed bastard?”

She struck his face with the flat of her palm, the sound ringing through the apartment.

“Don’t you fucking talk about him that way! You don’t get to call me here for no reason and pick me apart like you think you know what goes on in my head, like you care. We both know you pretended the first time and every time after.”

He bore down on her, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her hard. “Then tell us what the fuck it is you want!” He roared. The angry youki flooding the apartment put her on edge as she tried to put a lid on the pure powers flaring in response.

“I don’t know!” She screamed in his face, struggling in his grip. “I don’t fucking know!”

Sesshoumaru swore, throwing her into the door behind her and turned, pacing as he ran a frustrated set of claws through his hair.

“I just..” She began again, frustration hissing in her throat, “I know that the heaviness goes away for a minute. I get to breath again.”

Her admission had him paused.

“All that grief, its... Its like trying to run through quicksand. I keep thinking I’m okay, and I fixed myself, and I don’t need to pretend like Inuyasha is here holding me to make that go away.” The words were running together and Sesshoumaru was standing still, quiet.

“You’ve had centuries, you didn’t love them like I did, but here I am and its not enough time. It’ll never be enough time to just get over this and move on.” The laugh erupting from her throat sounded manic. “I don’t even know why you let me do this, its just easier to pretend, to get it over with and hope at some point I get to move on.”

“Is moving on the purpose of this ridiculousness?” He said quietly over his shoulder, golden eyes landing on her as his face fell, his youki closing around him tightly. “Moving on?”

She swallowed thickly still unsure. There was fear surrounding all of this, a worry that grief would never subside. Living like this was not an option anymore. It was clear in the self-destructive habits that were beginning to form.

“I don’t even think I’m capable of loving anyone anymore, Sesshoumaru. I just... there’s this black hole in me and the only time I’m awake again is... You.”

Fumbling for words as an author made her feel foolish, and humiliation poured over her as she wrestled with herself.

“Have you ever heard the saying Fake it until you Make it?” Sesshoumaru asked softly, turning to her. Her brows knotted, but she nodded. There was a predatory stalk in his motion toward her, and when he tilted her chin up, she watched him warily.

“Tell me you love me.”

“But I don’t.”

“Say it.”

Kagome frowned at him, hands fisting at her sides.

“Come now. Fake it. Tell me you love me.”

“I -” She faltered momentarily, feeling as ridiculous as the words being recited, “I love you?”

“Say it once more with feeling.”

“I love you.”

His voice became husky as he took one of her fisted hands, forcibly seperating it and threading their fingers together. “Again. Say my name.”

“Sesshoumaru, I love you.” There was still no spark behind it, the words feeling hollowed.

His other hand was in her hair, mouth warm as he spoke against hers.

“Say it again.” He growled. That warm spark lit in her belly, but she knew the difference between love and lust too well.

“I love you.” At some point, he’d begun backing her up until she hit the cold metal door of his studio, a chaste kiss on her lips being placed after she uttered the words.

“Tell me you love it when I’m inside you.” Her heart was racing now, and that light was burning color back into the room. Her lust was like a glowing lantern in the room, brightening each corner as it was turned up.

“I do..”

“No. Say it.” His mouth was next to her ear, nipping at the bottom lobe as his left hand tugged her hair gently.

“I love it when you’re inside me.” She breathed, truth finally spilling from her like soothing warm water.

“Yeesss..” He hissed, his right hand pulling her coat off before playing with the button of her black slacks. “Say you love it.”

“I love it.” She gasped softly as the button popped open and his fingers slid over her pubic mound.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” It came out breathy this time, and his finger ducked between her lips, swirling tempestuously around that swelling button.

“Say my name.”

“Sesshoumaru..”

“I love you.” he insisted for her, and she parroted it back if only so he wouldn’t stop what he was doing.

“We’re going to fake it until you’re fixed. Fake it like you love me.” He said softly, biting at her lip before pulling his hand from her pants and away entirely. She was panting against the door, no longer cold as he turned back and padded over to his wine, swallowing what was left in the glass with a swig and grabbing the bottle before sitting. He crooked his finger, beckoning her over and she followed, the lost little lamb she was. He threw his head back along with the bottle, taking long swallows before thrusting the bottle to her. She followed his lead, drinking as much as she could before she kneeled over his lap. He stopped her from leaning closer.

“You are practicing little priestess. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“What do you love?”

“When you’re inside of me.”

“Why?”

She blinked, suddenly unsure again. His hand cupping her through her slacks drew a soft gasp before he answered for her.

“I see stars.”

She repeated the three words back to him and he nodded, taking another long swig and finishing the white wine, throwing the bottle behind her with a crash.

“Say it.”

His hands pulled her pale blue button up shirt apart violently and she gave him a small cry. “I love you!”

“What do you love?” His mouth paused at her breast, giving her a tentative lick before planting a slow burning kiss on her sternum.

“I love it when you’re inside of me.” She moaned as he guided one of her hands into his hair, the other to his shoulder as he made a wet line down to her belly and back up, sucking her nipple in a sweet harsh cadence before releasing it.

“Why?”

“You make me see stars.” She said thickly, her eyes misting with that need.

“Again.”

Her slacks were pulled halfway down her thighs and he managed to help her out of one side, not bothering with the other as he now had full access to what he intended to play with.

“I love you.”

“Who?”

“Sesshoumaru! I love you!” She panted as he played, fingers barely dipping inside of her before scissoring around her clit and squeezing it harshly, drawing a strangled cry from her.

“I love it when you’re inside of me.”

Both his index and middle finger dipped deep inside of her, curling inwards and rubbing roughly with the pads of his fingers.

“Fuck, I see stars.”

He palmed her clit and began a punishing rhythm with his hand, and Kagome was lost.

“Say my name.”

“Sesshoumaru.” She groaned as his fingers thrust angrily into her.

“Again.”

“Sesshoumaru!”

“Who am I?”

“Sesshoumaru!”

His fingers were being squeezed mercilessly by her throbbing cunt, and she was close to breaking apart as he leaned forward.

“We are not Inuyasha.” He hissed mercilessly. “You will repeat.”

His cadence slowed and she started at the painful curl of his fingers stroking inside of her.

“You are not Inuyasha.”

“Very good, little priestess. Who are we?” He rumbled in question, hard golden gaze pulling at her in ways she hadn’t experienced in years.

“Sesshoumaru.” She breathed, head falling back when his hand began to pick up his previous pace and slapping her clit with every harsh pump. Alarm pulsed through her when his other hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed lightly.

“Say it.”

“I love you!” She cried out, coming closer and closer to bliss.

“What do you love?!” He bellowed.

“When you’re - ” Her voice hitched dangerously as he squeezed harder. “Inside of me!”

“Why...?” It came out as low growl that made her tighten over him.

“I’m ... Seeing... Stars..” She choked; it had nothing to do with the fingers curled around her throat, but everything to do with coming to the precipice of the raging orgasm crashing over her. The tight thrum through her body made every muscle tense as it ravaged through her.

“Say my name.”

She screamed it and more when he refused to let up the pace of his fingers in her body, hand fisting over her throat, and she was seeing stars and brilliant flashes of color as her body spasmed. The small truths uttered between them over and over filled that gaping emptiness in her chest until not everything that was said was a lie.

~*~

He hadn’t left her any option, and where she had shown up at odd hours of his life to wreck it, he came with the same lessons until the darkness of depression began to waver. Where at first she dreaded these idiotic lessons, her heart swelled again with affection that had been left behind long ago when she came home to him sitting on her couch. He preferred his studio, and he said so when he left a key with her one day with a kiss on her forehead. The chaos in her heart was calming, the storm clouds were rolling away slowly, and as she lay on her belly in his bed after he had dressed and left her for work, she considered perhaps she should learn more about the man teaching her how to express love again, having been with him for months now.

She knew some of the basics, but nothing much else in the way of his personal nature. She rose from the bed and looked around. No pictures beyond odds and ends artwork on the walls, very little in the way of personal effects that weren’t just clothing and aftershave. There was next to no paperwork anywhere in the studio, and what she did find in the office corner was minimal. Her hand bumped the mouse for the computer, and found it unlocked. She looked over her shoulder toward the front door and clicked onto the main desktop. She looked through his browser history, noticing it was wiped recently and frowned before beginning to search through folders until one made her pause.

Sesshoumaru stood with a young light haired woman and had a young child in his arms. Maybe... She checked the date on the photo, seeing it had been saved within the last few weeks. Digging harder into the computer for an explanation, she saw multiple photos of the little boy and the woman, some with Sesshoumaru and others without. The woman wore a ring, and in most photos, so did Sesshoumaru. It was a plain gold band she’d never noticed on his finger.

Clearing the tabs, she stood, staring at the computer with a knot of dread. God help her if she was what she thought she was. She hastily dressed and headed out the door, hoping she could catch him quietly. The drive to the office was one filled with apprehension and her stomach was bubbling with acidic anxiety. He hadn’t promised he’d be back home, only let her know he’d call when he was coming back. Where she was pulling up to the stoplight, she noticed his vehicle was pulling away from the office. She shouldn’t. But she did.

Following him brought her to a suburb, and he stopped in front of a house. He threw his jacket and tie in the car and seemed to hesitate before he stepped up the pathway to knock on the door. The woman she remembered in the photo answered, arms folded defensively over her chest as she scowled at him. Their words were clearly heated, and she was loud enough in her anger she was catching snippets of what the woman was saying.

“You can’t just leave me with nothing, Shoma! I deserve to know.” Her hands were speaking for her as she slapped the back of her hand to her other hand, shaking the same finger in his face. “Your son deserves to know why his father is abandoning him!”

“He is not being left with nothing and neither are you. Your hysterics are ridiculous, Nato. Calm down before you upset him.”

“He’s already upset you fucking bastard!” She yelled, tears beginning to streak down her face. “You haven’t been here for months. You’ve been gone, completely out of your mind floating off in lala land with some whore -”

Sesshoumaru grabbed the woman’s arm, causing her to screech as he hauled her inside and the fighting grew louder. His life was... Had been... Utterly normal until she crash landed back into it, Kagome realized. Her stomach knotted with dread and sorrow for her, but as Sesshoumaru came back out of the house slowly with her following, beating on his back yelling all kinds of expletives, another realization hit her. He’d already chosen what he wanted. There wasn’t any kind of hesitation in his motions, and she watched him slip the golden ring off of his finger as he turned, grasping the woman’s wrists in one big palm. He leaned forward, speaking slowly and concisely but too soft for her to make out. Whatever it was had shattered the woman she assumed had been his wife as he placed his ring in her hand releasing her, and she sank down on the stoop jarring her knees and sobbing into her palms. Kagome’s hands covered her mouth, feeling she had just witnessed the end of a relationship at her fumbling, unfeeling hands. He turned from the mess that was his wife and was walking back towards his car when he paused, nose softly sampling the air. His gaze jerked to her and Kagome fought not to panic as he stared at her from the driver’s side of his car. His eyes narrowed, but after a long moment he ducked into the car and drove away.

Kagome sat for a long while, watching the woman cry until their child came out to comfort his sobbing mother and she felt the first pangs of guilt as she started her car and drove away as quickly as she safely could. When she arrived outside his studio, she sat in her driver seat, arguing with herself how to go about facing this. He’d clearly seen her, knew she knew. Gathering herself, she pushed down every new feeling she’d been facing since calling them back from their slow death at the hands of grief. Why was it when she needed that emptiness to face these fears, it was suddenly gone? She buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath, steeling herself as she got out of the car and walked up the steps to the metal door of his upstairs studio. Pulling the keys out of her pocket, she unlocked the door only to find it already unlocked. He was waiting for her, leaned against the island counter of his kitchen area with his arms folded over his chest at her slow approach. He said nothing, merely waited for her to make the first move. She tried to quell the ghosting shiver in her knees as she stepped up to him, still feeling like the prey even though she knew she had just caught the predator at a disadvantage.

“What have you done, Sesshoumaru?” She said softly. His arms unfolded as he leaned against the counter, gripping it with both large hands.

“Say it.”

“Why?”

“Say it.”

Kagome fought with herself in the fiercest battle she’d had since loving Inuyasha. Turmoil spread through her like poison, and the satisfaction of getting to keep her prize versus having to remember the broken woman weeping on her porch having been left by a man she’d stolen from her and dealing with the guilt that followed was a painful choice. She was taking too long for him, because he pushed away from the counter.

“Say it.” He repeated, his entire demeanor darkening.

“I... Love you.”

“Whom do you love?”

“Sesshoumaru.”

“Who am I not?”

“Inuyasha.”

“Say it again, say my name.” he rasped, closing the distance between them as his hands snared her hair and forced her to face him.

“I love you, Sesshoumaru.” She sighed over his mouth, relishing in its press when she said what he wanted to hear.

“I love you.” he groaned against her, pressing her body into his. She knew there was still a hollow ring in her admissions, but every time she uttered it there was a flare of heat that brushed through her, and when he said it, it was this dark promise she wouldn’t need to work for his rewards so hard.

“Say it again, Kagome.”

“I love you, Sesshoumaru.”

“Who’s are you?”

This wasn’t a question he’d been conditioning her with, but she knew the answer deep down. There wasn’t an escape. She needed him, and he knew it. Every gentle touch, coaxing press of his mouth, warm stroke of his tongue. There was an ugly knowledge that pushed her to see the undeniable fact he knew she didn’t love him; but was what he had with the other woman just as false that he could walk away so quickly?

“Yours.”

“Yes.” He rumbled against her.

“Sesshoumaru?”

“Kagome?”

“Why me?”

One of his thumbs swiped over her cheek, the other hand guiding her neck so he could kiss her before he picked her up in an all encompassing embrace and sitting her on the marble counter so they were eye to eye.

“Look at me.” He commanded. She did, trembling with an outpour of emotion she didn’t have months ago. He studied her closely, hands aiding in his soul search.

“Say it.” He said quietly. She softened.

“I love you, Sesshoumaru.” He continued to stare unabashedly, before kissing her passionately.

“I can’t tell anymore if you’re lying. Neither can you.” He breathed. “That’s why.”

Picking her up again, he walked them over to his bed and their white down comforters and sheets. She slowly undressed him, fingers soft over his skin as he returned the sentiments until they were both standing naked before one another. He turned her around, a first between them as he grasped her hips and bit her shoulder gently so as not to break the skin.

“Who is behind you?”

“You.”

“Say my name.”

“Sesshoumaru.”

“Again.” he breathed, warmth flaring over the nape of her neck before he kissed it, and bent her slowly, encouraging her knee to settle at the edge of the bed.

“Sesshoumaru... Please...” She moaned, hands and knees now on the bed as he stood on one leg with his knee encompassing her thighs. His kisses trailed her spine, following the trail with those sharp claws that sent shivers through her until she was off her hands and reaching back to press him closer.

“Say it.”

“I love you...” She whispered. He was right. She couldn’t tell if she was lying anymore. “Please, Sesshoumaru.”

She could feel the pressing throb of the head of his member at her entrance.

“What do we love?” He asked softly.

“We love it inside of me.” She answered, eyes fluttering closed with a smile.

“Why?”

“I see stars.”

“Kagome...”

His cock slowly entered, and she called his name, reached for him, lavishing him with all that she had in her that felt as close to loving as she remembered. He wasn’t angry, there wasn’t painful pleasure, just the warm spark smarting along every touch his fingers made. Was it love? Perhaps it was just lust. Kagome didn’t care as he wrapped around her, holding her with every powerful rock of their hips until she fell headfirst into what might very well have been love. Her heart ached when he finished inside of her hours later, and she held his silver head to her chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing his forehead.

“I love you, Sesshoumaru.” She breathed

“You are loved, Kagome.” His reply was rasping and enunciated when he tightened his hold on her.