Endless by Aubrey Simone

Slip of the Tongue

Disclaimer: The anime/manga Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. The author, Aubrey Simone, does not profit from the writing or posting of this fic.

Pre-Note: This is my will be a collection of one-shot response to Kirai's Neverending Title Challenge, originally meant to be a collection and now simply a one-shot. Enjoy!

Slip of the Tongue

"You're joking!"

"Cross my heart, Sango! That's exactly what he said!"

"But Kagome—"

"I know!"

"And he—"

"I know!"

"Not to mention you—"

"I know!"

At this last proclamation, which was more of a despairing wail than anything, Sango pursed her lips and inspected her friend's face. "Are you sure, Kagome?" The dubious question was asked at just above a whisper, large brown eyes wider than usual and sparkling with suspicion as they took in the frowning countenance of the young woman across from them.

A raven head nodded, blue eyes slightly troubled as their owner pondered her current predicament. "Absolutely."

In the momentary silence, the sound of a bell tinkling as it announced a newcomer sounded as loud as a gong, and the females started out of their mutual dazes and tried not to jump apart as though they'd been doing something wrong. "Stay here," the taller, slimmer woman mumbled, reaching back to tighten the ties of her apron. Without another word, she slipped out of the back room, nudging the swinging door open with a hip and passing through it just as Kagome's phone, stuffed into the bottom of her purse, beeped the tone for a text message.

Removing the strap from her shoulder, Kagome reached into the large yellow bag, searching almost absently for the little device; when her fingers closed around it, she pulled it free with a vaguely triumphant air, and then looked at the phone and felt her stomach drop to her feet. She gulped at the name that blazed beneath the little envelope on the screen: Sesshomaru. Sending up a prayer that he wouldn't be asking to talk about what had happened the evening before, she gathered her courage and opened the message.

Coffee in fifteen.

A breath she didn't know she was holding hissed out between her teeth, and relief flooded through her veins, chasing away the anxiety that had built up in her system. 'He isn't going to bring it up,' she thought, sure that if he was going to say anything then he would've said it. Moving to the small break table, Kagome set her purse on top of it and settled into a metal folding chair, phone cradled in her hands.

Moonbeam's?

Yes.

The conversation was over before Sango came back, sighing and pushing brown bangs out of her eyes and cocking an eyebrow as she plopped down into the seat across from Kagome. "Was that him?" she asked, gaze flicking momentarily to the phone Kagome had dropped back into her bag. The blue-eyed female nodded, nibbled her lip, and then sighed and sunk down into her seat until the back of her head rested against the hard metal back support.

"I wish he hadn't said it," she confessed quietly, eyes closed.

Sango was silent for a moment. "Why?"

"Because...he doesn't know that I—" She broke off, bit her tongue. She didn't want to say the words, not out loud.

"Kagome," Sango began hesitantly, voice soft with concern. "I think you should, you know, tell him."

Blue eyes snapped open in surprise, and Kagome pulled herself into a righted position, blinking rapidly. "Wh-what?"

Sango held up her hands, already defending herself against the incredulous tone. "Listen, if he already said it, then maybe it's alright."

Kagome couldn't help herself; she scoffed. "Yeah, right. And Miroku is going to stop fondling your backside."

Cheeks flooding with color at the mentioning of their mutual friend, Sango scowled. "Don't try to distract me," she demanded, wagging a finger in admonishment. "We're talking about you, not about that pervert." Kagome slumped at the words, and Sango sighed. "Look, I'm sure he'll be fine if you tell him. You guys have known each other forever."

Kagome groaned, reaching up to massage her temples. "And that's the problem! I can't tell him!" Sango opened her mouth, but Kagome held up a hand, frustration and worry curling their icy fingers around her heart. "Just forget it. I'm supposed to meet him at Moonbeam's in ten minutes." Sango's mouth twisted, but she nodded anyway, standing and walking with her to the door of the café where she worked.

"Call me tonight, okay?" Kagome nodded, and, a hug and a quick peck on the cheek later, was walking down the street, blending with the early afternoon crowd.

Sango sighed, tightened her apron, and then turned to begin preparing for the lunch rush.

-----|-|-----

He was an idiot. A complete and total moron who most certainly didn't deserve the grades he received at Tokyo University; after all, how could someone so stupid make such good marks? 'Because you're book smart, not woman smart,' his mind readily supplied, mocking him. He heaved an internal sigh.

Eighteen years. Eighteen years he'd known her, and he was positive that he'd managed to destroy every ounce of camaraderie in one evening; one evening like every other they'd shared, filled with popcorn and movies and laughter. 'A shame too,' his traitorous thoughts whispered as he caught a whiff of soft wisteria and glanced up to meet brilliant blue eyes, 'she was such a good friend.'

The tiny woman, a shrine maiden by choice during the days she wasn't at school, weaved through the heavy lunch crush and plopped down into the booth across from him, a smile stretching across her plump lips. "You know," she said conversationally as she picked up the menu he'd been sure to grab for her, "I don't think it would kill you to ask me out to coffee instead of demanding it."

"I disagree," he responded. "I'm already dying at the thought."

She gave him a sharp glance, rolling her eyes before turning them back to the glossy list of choices in front of her. "You're such a brat."

"Only children can be brats. I am simply arrogant."

"At least you admit it," she said with a snort of laughter, shaking her head slightly.

He chose not to answer, instead watching as the window they sat beside allowed sunlight to splash against the strands of her hair, held back away from her face by a broad yellow headband and spilling over her shoulders in barely tamed waves. The white peasant top she wore bore sleeves that sat off of her shoulders and allowed the smallest amount of cleavage if she shifted just so, and he distinctly remembered the tan shorts that showed off her slim thighs and finely muscled calves.

She shifted in her seat, and the reflection of sunlight off of the menu forcefully pulled him out of his thoughts; he turned away, lest he be caught staring, and watched their usual waitress make her way to their booth.

"Good afternoon, guys," she chirped once she was within hearing distance. "Will you be having the usual today?" Sesshomaru nodded, but Kagome, true to herself, ordered what he was sure could barely be called coffee, along with her usual slice of red velvet cheesecake.

"I'll never understand why you insist on trying everything on the menu," he stated as she opened the monstrosity she called a purse and fished around in it, glaring at him.

"Yeah, well…" She trailed off, frowned, and then looked down into the bag. "Maybe you should try something different, Mr. Monotony."

He grunted noncommittally, reached for his phone, and dialed the absentminded miko's cell, watching with amusement as her search became more vigorous at the obnoxious ringtone she'd chosen.  When she finally fished the device from the confines of the yellow material, it was on its last ring, and he cocked a brow as she realized it was he who'd called her. "You're welcome," he offered, smirking at her when she childishly poked her tongue out at him.

The little pink appendage brought thoughts no sane man—or youkai, as it were—would think about his longtime friend, and Sesshomaru shoved them away, shifting slightly as the material of his slacks became a little too tight. Kagome was blissfully unaware, thank the gods, and he cocked a brow as she looked up from her phone, an amused expression on her face.

She shook her head, lips quirked. "Miroku and Sango," she said by way of explanation. Sesshomaru scoffed, and Kagome's soft smile morphed into a grin. "Still think that someone needs to lock them in a room, huh?"

"And throw away the key."

Her laughter was light and tinkling, and he reveled in it as it had been wont to do as of late, letting it fall against his ears like feathers. He watched the way her face lit up with her smile, the way her sapphire-hued eyes sparkled, blue diamonds framed by sooty black lashes, thick and long and exotic. And then he watched her smile fade, watched as an odd, unreadable expression settled over her lovely features. Suddenly, he wondered what she was thinking about.

'Did she hear what I said…? No, she wasn't awake…was she?'

And then their waitress returned to the table, set their drinks and the cheesecake in front of them, and the moment—the panicky sensation that came with the fact that maybe she hadn't been asleep, the swirling of fear and touch of hope—dissolved and floated away with the dust motes.

Sesshomaru breathed an inaudible sigh of relief.

---|-|---

"That's not fair!"

"Why not?"

"B-because you're so tall!" Kagome spluttered, not caring that she was whining. She chanced a glance at her purse, held securely in Sesshomaru's clawed hand, and then made a grab for it, huffing when he yanked it upward and out of her reach.

"I am not tall," he responded, his voice a lazy drawl. "You're just short."

With a frustrated groan, Kagome crossed her arms over her chest. "Whatever. You carry it then."

So deep she almost didn't hear it, Sesshomaru chuckled, and just as she turned to continue their walk to the local park, long fingers wrapped around her wrist, and then the leather strap of her purse was being dropped into her fingers. Her youkai companion walked past her without another word, and she sighed before following.

She looped her arm through his as he slipped his hands into his pockets, and remained silent until they reached the park, where he steered her to their usual tree and settled on his back in the grass, long body stretched comfortably in the shade. Kagome sat beside him, pulling her knees up to her chest and toeing her sandals from her feet to feel the cool grass on her skin. She looked to Sesshomaru, intent on asking him about their literature class, but her breath caught in her throat and the words died on her tongue.

He was beautiful, and there was no other way to describe it.

Silver hair, swept back into a low tail that wound amongst the soft, green grass, shimmered in the dappled sunlight. Across his magenta-striped face, the pattern of the leaves above their heads caressed his skin, darting across the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips; lips that she suddenly wondered about.

'Are they as soft as they look?' Her cheeks heated, and she turned away, though her eyes wandered back to him—and more specifically, his mouth—again. 'I just…I wish…'

The trilling sound of a child's laughter knifed through her daze, and she looked away again, face hot. Clearing her throat, she shoved every thought of kissing the youkai to the darkest corners of her mind and determined not to think them again. "Have you finished Takara-sensei's project?" she asked, reaching forward to draw the silver hair beside her into her lap.

"Yes," he responded, cracking open an eye. "Have you?"

She shrugged. "Not yet, but I figured you could help me with that."

He grunted. "Perhaps you figure wrong?"

Twisting the strands of hair around her fingers, Kagome laughed lightly. "You'd never turn me down."

"Hnn." He shifted, and she released his hair momentarily to allow for his movement. Once his fingers were linked behind his head, she pulled the moon kissed locks back into her lap, the strands cool against her legs. "If you must lie to yourself, miko, so be it."  

"I'm not lying, and you know it," she responded lightly, the trilling sound of his cell phone interrupting whatever retort he'd been working up. When he made no move to retrieve the device, Kagome sighed and reached forward, sighing at his anti-social tendencies. "Honestly, why do you even have a phone? Hello, Higurashi Kagome speaking!"

Instantly, a low, smoky voice filtered through the line, and although the tone was pleasant, the words were not. "Put Sesshomaru on the phone, girl."

"Kagura, a good afternoon to you, too," Kagome retorted dryly, glancing at Sesshomaru. He shook his head, just slightly. "What do you need?"

"Don't talk to me like that, human, and I'm not going to repeat myself."

Kagome clicked her tongue. "Seriously, it seems like you'd try asking for once. And Sesshomaru doesn't want to talk to you right now."

Kagura grunted, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke in a tone that smacked of longsuffering and misplaced exasperation. "Fine. Tell him I'll talk to him later."

The line clicked before Kagome could say anything more, and she twisted her lips in distaste. "I thought you said you were done with her," she said, leaning over to slip her friend's Blackberry back into his pocket.

"I did, and I am."

"Then why does she keep calling?"

He shot her a look that clearly stated his displeasure with the situation. "She is delusional, as I have told you numerous times." His eyes, narrowed in annoyance, slimmed further as he glared at the leaves above his head. "She believes I play some coy game with her, thinks I'm being 'hard to get', she says." The disdain in his voice dripped like venom, and she suddenly felt irrationally glad that he had no desire to be with the wind witch.

'Now we can have him all to ourselves,' a voice whispered in her head, a voice that was immediately squashed and swept back in a corner to die.

"Good," she heard herself say through her self-imposed embarrassment. "She's not right for you."

Sesshomaru scoffed. "Of that, this Sesshomaru is certain."

She felt a giggle bubble up in her throat, and before she could stop it, it spilled from her lips. Sesshomaru spared her a sidelong glance, and she laughed more, shaking her head at his cocked brow. "This Sesshomaru?" she forced through her mirth, obviously questioning his use of such superior phrasing.

He turned his nose up at her, mouth set in a derisive sneer, but the sting of the expression, which would've riled any other person's temper, was lost on Kagome, and she laughed until the giggles died down and Sesshomaru's smirk had softened to a half-formed smile.

He looked at her then, the amber of his eyes slow and lazy, like melted honey on a hot summer day. She stared, felt her smile fade away, and a moment just like the one in the coffee shop dropped over her. It settled over her shoulders like a warm blanket, and the butterflies that had lain dormant in her belly erupted to life once more, fluttering and flitting around relentlessly, with no regard to her comfort. She wondered what he was thinking.

'Does he know that I heard him? What if…what if he's just waiting for me to say something? What if—'

Her phone rang, shrill and piercing, and the moment was gone. The butterflies and the expectancy and the anxiety all died abruptly, and she tore her gaze away from his, hoping he would take the blush on her cheeks as a side-effect of the early spring warmth.

Fishing around in her purse, she closed her fingers around the phone and pressed the answer key, not bothering to check the caller ID. "Hello?"

The voice that came over the line startled her out of her self-conscious stupor. "Where are you?"

"Hojo! Oh gosh I'm so sorry!" She shoved her feet back into her sandals. "I'm coming right now!" She hung up without waiting on a reply, and then leaned over and gave Sesshomaru an awkward, one armed hug. "I have to go pick up Rin," she breathed, cursing herself for her forgetfulness. "I'll call you, okay?"

He nodded, and she leaned down again to peck a friendly kiss against his cheek; it wasn't until their mouths met that she realized he'd turned his head and parted his lips to say something to her. She jerked back, sat up, and as her scrambling mind screeched to a sudden halt, she stared, wide-eyed, into the amber gaze staring right back at her.

"I-I'm sorry," she squeaked out through a suddenly tight throat, still feeling the warmth of his mouth against hers. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," he interrupted, sitting up. They were still close, close enough for her to feel the body heat wafting off of his skin, and she found herself looking at him, trying to hide the question that shoved itself into her mind and remained there, rotating lazily amidst her thoughts: 'Why did you say it?'

There was an odd expression on his face, something that was a mixture of hope and anguish, but it was subtle, almost nonexistent. If she hadn't been his friend all their lives, there was no way she would've seen it, but it was there and it made her wonder. 'What is he thinking about? And why can't I—'

"You should go," he said abruptly, yanking her out of her thoughts. He turned his face away, and she gazed at his profile for only a moment before nodding and pushing herself to her feet. She shouldered her purse, swallowed the lump of uncertainty that had lodged itself in her throat. "I'll see you later," she said as cheerfully as she could manage.

He nodded, glanced up at her. She couldn't make herself look at him any longer than a few seconds, but just before she turned away, she saw the emotion that won possession of his face; anguish. And she was sure, as sure of it as she was of her own name, that he had seen her attraction and had decided that they couldn't be friends anymore, not when he didn't feel the same way about her. What he'd said didn't matter, if he'd said anything at all, because now she was positive that she'd imagined it. Wishful thinking, stupid hoping.

'My life is ruined.'

---|-|---

She didn't call. Not that night, nor the next, nor the one after that. For an entire week, she didn't call, and the lack of attention was beginning to get to him. 'Beginning?' the sardonic side of him sneered. 'It's been getting to you since the first.'

He sighed, settled back in his desk chair, and then reached up and ran a hand through his hair. The woman was driving him insane. Slowly but surely, the thought of her was ripping his concentration to shreds and leaving it to scatter in the winds. He couldn't seem to collect himself, couldn't focus on his studies without his mind wandering back to her and that damned kiss. That kiss that wasn't really a kiss, that kiss that kept him up at night, reliving the feel of her soft, warm mouth pressed so fleetingly against his own.

His gaze drifted from his computer screen to his cell phone, sitting so innocently beside his mouse. He found himself willing it to ring, willing her to call and put him out of his misery. 'She should just get it over with,' he thought, positive that she was avoiding him only because she didn't know how to tell him that she wasn't attracted to him. 'She is entirely too softhearted.'

Then again, he corrected himself with a depreciating scoff, that was what drew him to her in the first place, wasn't it? Even at the young age of four, he'd been drawn to the girl on the playground who fought with boys and then turned around and bawled her eyes out when she realized she'd hurt them. The girl who sobbed as though she'd lost a family member after finding a dead bird in her backyard, the one who rescued each and every stray animal she could, just so the creatures wouldn't be alone.

And as they'd grown, he'd found himself unable to be without her. He hid it, of course, behind snobby indifference and a haughty attitude, but even then, back when they were gangly teenagers struggling to find themselves, he knew that she'd known. She knew, and she kept his weakness close to her heart; to this day, none but she knew the lengths he'd gone to in order to keep them together. Through childish arguments and threats of ending their friendship, he'd somehow found a way to keep her with him, and then, when she got pregnant at eighteen, he'd shoved his own anger and hurt to the depths of his being, determined to stay by her no matter how many times she insisted that he end their bond and get on with his life.

He hadn't realized, however, how much of himself he'd given to her until that night, just a week and a half earlier, when he'd said those words, the ones he subconsciously entertained in his dreams, where they could be together without the threat of ruining their friendship. But he'd slipped, he knew, because she had fallen asleep against him, the romantic comedy they'd been watching rolling through the credits. He'd lured himself into a sense of security, knowing that she wouldn't hear him, wouldn't know how he felt.

"I love you," he'd whispered, dipping his head to bury his nose in the fragrant waves of her hair, "so much."

And then she'd shifted, and his heart had lurched and squeezed and twisted in his chest, leaving him breathless and disoriented. He'd looked at her, seen that she really was asleep, her beautiful face bathed in the light from the television, and a relief unlike anything he'd ever known surged through his veins. She hadn't heard him. He was safe. They were safe.

He'd allowed himself to believe that, too. Until that day in the coffee shop, when she'd looked at him with a question in her eyes, until that moment in the park, when their lips had touched and she'd been so flustered, so unsure of herself. And now, he was the one who was unsure, who needed reassurance that he hadn't destroyed everything they had worked so hard to keep over the years.

'She has made me soft,' he thought, but the realization didn't anger him as he thought it should. He sighed, and over the sound of the exhalation was the buzz of his phone vibrating against his desk. Instantly, he reached for it, answered it without looking to see who was calling.

"Sesshomaru, I…" She trailed off, cleared her throat, and he remained silent, clamping down on the urge to tell her to spit it out. "I still need help with Takara-sensei's project, you know."

Her voice had settled into a light, friendly tone, and he felt relatively safe in knowing that she wouldn't be ending their companionship. At least not yet. "Very well."

He hung up after being sure that she was at her apartment, and then he gathered his things and steeled himself. The ghost of her kiss flitted over his mouth, and he stamped it into the dust of his thoughts, covering it with dirt and willing it to stay dead. It didn't matter what he wanted, after all, because she didn't feel the same way for him as he did for her, he just knew it.

---|-|---

'Oh, this was a bad idea,' Kagome thought as soon as she opened her front door and saw Sesshomaru standing there, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his forearms and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He was so intensely masculine in that moment, standing in her doorway and looming over her like some visiting kami, that she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment just before his eyebrow cocked in question.

"If you would have preferred to do this project standing up, you should have warned me to wear my comfortable shoes," he said, voice deep and quiet and rumbling in his amusement.

She blushed harder and simply stepped aside, not trusting her voice at the moment. He brushed by her, smelling alluringly of pine needles, and when she turned, he was lowering himself onto her overstuffed couch. The click of the door shutting sounded overly loud in her ears, but she ignored her nerves and padded into her kitchen, pouring two cups of pink lemonade and carrying them back into the living room.

He took his glass with a glance, and she perched beside him, taking a deep breath and launching right into the reason for his visit, motioning to the papers that were spread all over the small living area. True to his nature, Sesshomaru bluntly told her that her work was a bunch of mediocre child's research, and although the project was due the next day, demanded that she scrap everything and start over.

After much complaining and a failed attempt at puppy-dog eyeing her way out of it, Kagome resigned herself to an all-nighter and settled more comfortably on the couch beside him, pulling her laptop onto her thighs and pulling up every research database she knew of.

It was midnight when they finished, and Kagome slumped against the back of the couch as Sesshomaru put away his things, closing her eyes. "I can't believe you made me redo that entire project," she complained, whining on purpose. "Do you have any idea how much work I put into that?"

"None, judging by the state it was in," he responded dryly. "You will thank me when you see your grade."

Kagome huffed, but decided not to argue; he was probably right anyway. And then, when she cracked her eyes open to glance at him and found him watching her, she discovered that without the distraction of work, her thoughts turned dangerously toward the very thing that had been pushing her to avoid his presence; the youkai himself.

Sitting there, staring at him, she could almost imagine that he was hers, that she was his. It was a hazardous imagining, but she almost liked the thrill it sent down her spine, the tingle it deposited at the small of her back. She swallowed, and Sesshomaru's eyes darted down to watch the movement of her throat before rising to meet her gaze again. It was hot. Too hot.

"Would you like more lemonade?" she asked. Her voice sounded a little high-pitched and slightly panicky, but the inu beside her nodded, and she shot up, grabbing his glass and walking into the kitchen.

'Get a grip, Kagome!' she berated, taking a deep, nearly silent breath. 'He's your friend, nothing more, nothing less. These stupid feelings you have for him don't mean anything, so stop thinking about it and—'

"Kagome." The way he said her name made her heart race, but she ignored it and gazed at him over the door of the refrigerator, the cool air from inside chilling her legs.

"Yeah?"

For a brief moment, Sesshomaru hesitated. And with that hesitation, Kagome felt the slowly forming lump in her throat harden until it felt like a small stone. "You have been avoiding me," Sesshomaru said at last, and she could hear the careful blankness he was inserting into his tone. "Why?"

Memories swam in her mind's eye, memories of him saying those very same words when they were eighteen and she had been evading him because she hadn't wanted to tell him that she was pregnant with Hojo's child. Just like then, the truth weighed heavy on her tongue, trepidation gluing her lips shut and fear constricting her throat around the stone-like mass. 'What do I say? How can I lie to him without him knowing?'

'Don't lie,' a gentle voice whispered back, soothing and soft. 'Just tell him the truth.'

But she couldn't do that, not now and not ever. When she'd told him that she was pregnant, that she would be keeping the baby, he had been slightly distant from her for months. He'd told her that it was only because he didn't want to crowd her, didn't want to upset her by doing something she wouldn't like, but she'd known the entire time that it was because he was hurt. And with good reason, too, because she'd promised him that she would keep her virtue until she got married, would keep herself safe from the men who would take her just to have her.

And now, if she were to tell him that she'd heard—imagined, she corrected— his confession and had only pretended to be asleep, he would laugh at her. He would scold her for thinking that he would ever say such a thing to her. They were only friends, after all, and nothing could come of her love for him, not if they wanted to remain the way they were.

So she opened her mouth and lied. "I was just a little hormonal, and I didn't want to bother you," she said, knowing that he sensed the untruth by the way his eyes narrowed minutely. She prayed that he would drop the subject, and turned back to the fridge, reaching inside to take out the pitcher of lemonade. But when she stepped back to close the door, she bumped into something hard, and a clawed hand closed around the pitcher before she could drop it in shock.

"You're lying," Sesshomaru murmured, taking the pitcher from her hand and setting it back in the fridge. He closed the door, and then grasped her arm and turned her around, staring down into her face with annoyance written across his features. "I will ask this only once more. Why have you been avoiding me?"

She averted her gaze, anxious about his proximity, and took a small step backward, her back coming into contact with the door behind her. "I…"

"Yes?"

She sighed. "I was embarrassed, okay?" she mumbled, shifting on her feet. "About the kiss at the park."

He remained silent for so long that she looked up, confused by the silky slide of his youki against her senses and the sudden heaviness in the air. "That," he said at last, the odd look on his face only serving to confuse her more, "was not a kiss."  He stepped closer, and Kagome pressed herself back against the refrigerator, eyes widening at the abrupt change in his demeanor. "This is a kiss."

And then his mouth was crushed against her own and his arm was around her waist, lifting her and holding her to him all at once.

Her mind, screaming its shock and confusion, unexpectedly gave out, and in the absence of proper command, Kagome's body took over and her arms flew up to wrap themselves around his broad shoulders. His mouth was soft and warm, and his tongue, when it darted out to touch against her lips, wet and slick. She opened her mouth, and found that he tasted like autumn, crisp and cool despite the heat of his mouth and the burn of his passion.

She could feel his hands on her, the arm that had been around her waist dropping to grip her thigh in a vice-like hold, the skin of his hand hot against her leg. She found herself arching into him, pressing her breasts against him and fighting to get even closer than she was; he was heady, like rice wine, and she couldn't get enough of him.

She whimpered shamelessly when he pulled away, but sighed in compliance as he trailed his lips down her chin and skipped kisses over her jawline, pulling the lobe of her ear into the cavern of his mouth. "You heard me that night, didn't you?" he asked, breath just as ragged as hers. "You weren't asleep, were you?" Kagome shook her head, hands trembling as they traveled restlessly over the broad expanse of his shoulders. He chuckled, and then took her legs in his hands and hoisted her up, pinning her to the fridge with his massive body and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Good."

A low moan worked its way through her lips when he placed a languid kiss inside of her ear, and she tilted her head back to give him unlimited access to her throat, his kisses hot and moist. "Where is Rin?" he asked a moment later, the words mumbled against the hollow at the base of her neck.

"She's…she's with her father this week." The rumble of his pleased growl vibrated through her body. "Sessh…Sesshomaru?"

"Hnn." His tongue was leaving long, wet trails along her throat, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure to pool between her thighs.

"Did…did you mean it?"

She instantly wished she hadn't asked; he pulled back and fixed her with such an offended expression plastered across his face that she feared he would leave. "You doubt this Sesshomaru, woman? After all I have done for you?"

He still held her against the fridge, and as if suddenly back amongst the living, her brain decided that she was embarrassed. "Well, no, but…"

For quite some time, he stared at her, amber eyes narrowed in thought. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kagome saw his jaw unclench. "I didn't mean to say it," he responded softly, tightening his grip on her when she stiffened. "But I meant it, yes."

And then, just like that, Kagome's world fell into place. She smiled, tangled her fingers in his hair, and kissed him. "I love you too, Sesshomaru."

He smirked at her. "That is all well and good," he drawled, fingers drumming along her thighs, "but if you are finished asking menial questions, I would like to return to my task."

She could see the playfulness in his gaze, and she feigned innocence. "Task? What task?"

Sesshomaru gripped her more resolutely and turned, pressing her against the solid wall across the room. His eyes, heated to molten pools of liquid amber, roved over her face and down to where she knew her camisole showed the tops of her breasts. Instead of answering her right away, Sesshomaru leaned forward and slid his tongue across her flesh.

Adjusting her until she could keep herself wrapped around him without his assistance, he reached up with both hands and cupped her breasts, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across her rapidly hardening nipples. She grasped, and he took the opportunity to kiss her, tasting her mouth as though he wanted to memorize it.

"The task," he murmured against her lips, trailing his mouth down as he pulled the top of her camisole until her breasts fell out of it. The hiss of breath that left her as he carefully tugged and twisted on her nipples caught in her throat when she felt his mouth on her, his tongue laving over one hardened peak. "Of making you cry my name to the heavens over and over again," he finished, whispering around her nipple.

The throb between her legs grew to enormous proportions at his words, and she groaned, fingers clenching in his hair. "Please don't tease me, not this time," she begged, mind too fogged to care about her wanton behavior. "Please."

When he looked back up at her, there was a tinge of red seeping into his eyes. "This will not be a one night fling," he said, the words nearly a growl. She nodded, reaching between them to undo his belt and pop the button on his slacks.

"I don't want it to be," she responded, licking her lips. She got sidetracked at the feel of his manhood brushing against her fingers as she worked, and she squirmed, grasping his sides and grinding herself into him.

The sensation was heavenly, and Sesshomaru growled at her, eyes seeping a little more. "You consent to a mating?" She nodded instantly, fervently, not needing any time to think about it. Sesshomaru's eyes flickered shut momentarily, and when they opened, the usual golden sheen was replaced by blood red tones that shimmered like rubies.

"Prepare yourself, woman," he whispered, voice guttural and rough. Unsure of how much more prepared she needed to be, she reached down and shoved the leg of her thin cotton shorts and underwear aside just as he freed his erection from his pants and positioned himself. Their eyes met.

And as he pushed into her, Kagome found herself glad for Friday night movies, her inability to stay awake through them, and Sesshomaru's uncharacteristic slip of the tongue.

---|-|---

Author's Note: I hadn't really planned on things getting heated, but Kagome and Sesshomaru decided they'd much rather have sex than talk like a sane couple. The pervs.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

~Aubrey

Word Count: 6,153

Edit: 9/1/12 - This is now classified as a completed work - unfortunately, I am not able to continue with Kirai's Challenge and complete the chapters on time.