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It was 4:53 p.m., Inuyasha was supposed to arrive any minute, and Kagome was still running around like a headless chicken, wiping down the already-cleaned (twice) kitchen counter in her student-budget apartment because Inuyasha was coming over and everything had to be perfect.
Well. Logically she knew everything didn’t have to be perfect, but she definitely wanted it to be.
Because while she had mastered the art of convincing her friends that she was absolutely, totally 100% over him, Kagome very well couldn’t lie to herself — she was absolutely, totally 100% not.
This was Inuyasha, after all. Tall, and toned, with the most glorious mane of moon-bleached hair and sun-kissed skin, Kagome had tripped, stumbled, and fallen head-over-heels in love from the moment she spotted him leaning against the school’s gate on the very first day of high school.
Kagome Higurashi — then an incoming first year, a bit shy, a bit gangly, self-aware enough to feel pretty when her new (sneakily rolled up) uniform skirt swished when she walked, but too naive to know how to use it to her best advantage — had known right from the start that Inuyasha Takahashi was so far out of her league it wasn’t even funny. He was two years above her, and already bound for Waseda University on a sports scholarship for rowing eights. Rumors were already swirling that he’d be tapped for the Japanese National Team within the year in time to train and qualify for the next Summer Olympics, and he moved through the school, flanked by his best friends, Miroku and Koga, with the easy grace of someone who knew that the world was their oyster.
And on top of that he was nice. He had an easy smile for anyone — girl or guy or (on occasion) teacher — who managed to squeak out a “hi, Yash!” in his presence. He helped new rowers with their strength-building regimens; always offered to help with the heavy lifting; got above-average grades. He was, by any definition, the “total package.” Why he remained single was a constant topic of gossip in the girl’s bathroom. Kagome couldn’t stop her eyes from following him whenever she spotted him in the cafeteria, or in the hallways or — to her everlasting delight — returning, sweat-sheened and in a tight shirt, from a workout.
Yeah, she had put him on a bit of a pedestal. And kept him there for six months, doing nothing except sighing wistfully after him every so often, until the winter holidays.
Their school had an unusual community-service requirement, and each year students had to find a place to volunteer for a given number of hours over the winter holidays. Kagome usually got away with putting time in at her family’s Shinto shrine, which suited her mom just fine because it meant she didn’t have to waste money on hiring a part-timer to help out with the New Year’s rush.
On the first day of winter break, Kagome had dutifully woken up, headed to the admin side of the Shrine, and bundled herself into the classic miko priestess uniform — red hakama, white kosode, unruly black hair tamed (mostly) into a ponytail. She was about to head out to sweep the compound’s courtyard when her mother caught her just as she was opening the door.
“Kagome, dear, hold on.”
“What, Mom?” Kagome huffed, shivering in the draft of frigid air leaking into the genkan. “I have to go sweep.” Which really meant she wanted to finish her chores as quickly and perfunctorily as possible so she could tuck herself under the heated kotatsu and blob in front of the TV, the true point of any holiday.
Her mother, ever serene, ignored her peevish reply. “We have another volunteer this year, and I need you to take him under your wing and show him how things are done. He’s waiting outside.”
“He?” Kagome asked suspiciously. “I didn’t think miko could be male?”
“He’s not volunteering as a miko,” her mom said, waving one hand dismissively. “Just as a general handyman. I was hoping you could show him some of the easy repairs we need done and see if he can’t give fixing them a go. He seemed like a useful sort, though I don’t think he’s in your class…” Kagome’s mom then gave her an outrageous wink. “I may have made him wear the same uniform, though.”
“Mom!” This was horrifying. Her mother, ogling someone from her school.
“What?” her mother said innocently. “I never said I did it for me . You, however, can thank me later.”
And with that, she breezed off to the Shrine’s offices, leaving her only daughter gaping in the entrance. Snapping her mouth shut with some effort, Kagome headed outside to grab a broom and track down this errant volunteer, idly wondering who from her school would have possibly wanted to pick here. Rounding the corner, broom clutched in one quickly-numbing hand, she remained deep in thought, debating if it could be Tanaka from class 1B or maybe Hojo, from the class next door to hers. He was a bit of a sap, and the type she could imagine would want to volunteer at a shrine, though Kagome wouldn’t have called him the handy-looking sort. Either way, despite her wildest dreams, it absolutely, totally 100% couldn’t be…
Inuyasha?!
She caught sight of him just as she rounded the corner to the main courtyard. Because — despite how many times Kagome frantically blinked to see if the boy before her, clad in the same red-and-white uniform (it looked so much better on him), his gleaming hair pulled up off his neck, was actually there or just a figment of her hormone-addled imagination — of course it was.
She may have sent one silent prayer of thanks to the gods, and another to her mom for being right, just this once.
And then he was looking at her, really looking at her, for the first time, cracking that signature fanged smile in her actual direction while she was just standing there stupidly, clutching a broom like a dork. And yet, she was a goner all over again.
“Hey,” he said, “nice to meet you. I’m Inuyasha. You’re a first year, right? I didn’t know your family ran a Shrine, that’s pretty cool.”
“Y-y-yeah,” she managed to get out. Cool, yeah, nice Kagome, real smooth. “This is a Shrine.” Oh, a sentence, improvement! Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. “And you’re Inuyasha!”
He gave her a puzzled look, and Kagome blushed when she realized she’d said the last couple of bits out loud. “Yeah, I’m Inuyasha,” he repeated. “And you are?”
“K-kagome Higurashi,” she whispered, wishing she could sink into the ground.
“Well,” he shrugged prosaically, “Me: Inuyasha; You: Kagome. Now that we have the introductions out of the way, I guess that means we can get to work! I really need those volunteer hours. Plus, it feels like I’m freezing my butt off in these pants, how do you do this?”
Inuyasha started exaggeratedly hopping from one leg to the other, shivering and letting out puffs of crystallized breath. And even though Kagome could tell he was putting on a bit of a show to make her feel better, she laughed despite herself.
“Thermal layers help, I’ve got like two pairs of wool tights on under these!”
“But they don’t make pantyhose in my size,” he groaned, following behind her as she headed to one corner of the main courtyard.
“Aw, poor you,” she teased. “You’ll warm up as you work. Here, could you…”
She set him to work clambering up and down a step ladder, dusting all of the lightbulbs that were fitted in the lanterns that dangled from the ceiling, and changing the occasional busted bulb. Then, while she took inventory of the small stock of omamori charms and the other weird “protection amulets” her grandfather insisted they stock, Inuyasha got the unenviable task of fishing gunk out of the base of the temizuya purification pond so it would drain properly, and she couldn’t help but giggle every time she heard him yelp “cold, cold, COLD!” That was one job she was quite happy to have someone else do.
After that, she ran him through how to use the cash register, just in case he ever needed to for some reason, and then it was already midafternoon and basically time for him to go — they were just part-time volunteer hours, after all, not full-time work. The spell of camaraderie was somewhat broken when they’d both changed back into their everyday clothes, Kagome in her two-layered tights, woolen skirt and oversized sweater, the kind that drooped over her hands; Inuyasha in a casual pair of tapered joggers and a hooded charcoal-gray sweatshirt that said “Beg For It.”
She found herself staring down at her feet, idly scuffing one against the ground, rather than falling back into the easy-ish banter they’d had earlier.
“Sooooo, I’ll see you tomorrow?” It came out as more of a question than she’d intended.
“Keh, you can’t get rid of me that easily, I’ll be back after morning practice.”
“Ew, you have to wake up early even on holidays?” Kagome wrinkled her nose in disgust. If it weren’t for this volunteer requirement, you couldn’t pry her from beneath the covers before 11 a.m. Her entire family knew she was grumpy as a bear until she’d eaten and had one...maybe two...cups of coffee.
“Eh, you get used to it, I guess?” Inuyasha said.
“I could never,” Kagome insisted, prompting Inuyasha to chuckle.
“Well, how about in exchange for never asking you to wake up early, you help me find a safer parking spot for my bike?” he offered. “It’s the fastest way for me to get here from the canals, and I’d rather not leave it out on the street.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you can park it around the back, where we have our car,” Kagome said. “Problem solved. How big is it?”
“Normal size? Here, I parked it outside, just for today, if you want to take a look?”
“Sure.” He led her around the shrine, out towards the large red torii that marked the entrance to the compound, and then down the steep flight of stairs to street level. Distracted by watching the way his hair glinted in the late afternoon sun, Kagome practically smacked into his back with her face when he pulled up shortly.
“Ow,” she moaned, rubbing her smarting nose; that had hit his shoulder blade. “What, are we here or…oh.” As Kagome peered around Inuyasha’s broad frame, her question trailed off.
They were standing in front of a bike, to be sure. But it wasn’t the little bicycle Kagome had been imagining. Instead, it was — to her untrained eye — a pretty legitimate motorcycle, all sharp lines and angles, with thin tires and bright red accents.
And someone had scratched, with what looked like the sharp edge of their keys, “half-breed” in jagged capital letters all along one side.
She felt, rather than heard, Inuyasha take a deep, shuddering breath and then let it all back out. His ears — of course Kagome had noticed them before, they were expressive and adorable and she loved the way they perked up and down with his moods — wilted.
“Fuck,” he muttered, and Kagome got the sense she wasn’t supposed to have heard that. Or seen this. This shattering of the image of his life — of him — as perfect. Invincible. That he, golden boy extraordinaire, could have struggles and problems, just like the rest of them.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and just stared at his vandalized bike. And in that moment, with the sun behind him, stretching out the shadows and limning him in gold, he was tall and strong and vulnerable and beautiful and if Kagome could have wicked away any sadness and pain from the slump of his shoulders, she would have in a heartbeat.
“Stay for dinner!” she blurted.
Whether what she said was that shocking, or he was just in shock, it took Inuyasha a moment to respond.
“I really shouldn’t,” he demurred.
“No, really, stay for dinner,” Kagome insisted, warming to the idea. “We can take your bike around the back and I bet we can get my grandpa to help buff out the stupid graffiti, and my mom loves you already and will just feed you until you want to puke, oh and maybe she’ll want to touch your ears but you can always say no if that makes you uncomfortable, and my younger dweeb of a brother will think you’re super cool and probably challenge you to video games, and—”
She broke off when Inuyasha started laughing.
Gasping, wheezing, totally-not-cool laughter that had him doubling over. Kagome would have been offended, if she wasn’t so relieved he seemed OK.
“Sure, Kagome, I’d love to stay for dinner,” he finally managed to gasp out. Together they wheeled his bike up the sloping back path to the Higurashis’ private residence, and Kagome showed him where he could park it next to the car. Despite his slight hesitation at the door, Kagome grabbed Inuyasha by the hand and practically dragged him inside, where her apron-clad mother was already in the kitchen stirring something-or-another on the stove. Inuyasha charmed her by offering to set the table; Sota was astounded Kagome even knew someone as cool and amazing as Inu-nii; her grandfather grumbled over the sorry state of the bike, but had the worst of the gouges invisible in nearly an hour; and somewhere in between the first sip of miso soup and drying the last of the teacups after dinner, Inuyasha and Kagome were fast friends.
She’d worried the magic would pop like a soap bubble when school started again in January, that Inuyasha would somehow have forgotten her in favor of his older, cooler, better friends. But...somehow he was always there, catching her eye and smiling whenever they passed in the hallway, or slinging his arm around her when they ate lunch together on the roof with Koga and Miroku. He’d introduced her as Ka-Go-Me in that special lilt of his, and in the moment it was like her blood was fizzing, she felt so effervescent.
But he never, ever knew that she liked him. Kagome didn’t know what was holding her back — too much fear or too much love or too much complacency in the bittersweet way things were now — but she never told him. Just kept the way she felt tucked into her heart, like a pearl.
When he graduated and went to Waseda (no surprise) it sucked that Kagome couldn’t see him every day, but at least they were in the same city and could meet up on weekends and holidays, and she could go cheer him on when he raced in regattas. They texted, constantly, and had a monthly standing date to binge-watch crappy movies and shove too much buttered popcorn in their faces.
When Kagome graduated two years later and got into Kyoto University to study psychology (sort of a surprise), the texting continued, but the meet-ups were now limited to the occasional long weekend when Kagome could make it back to Tokyo. And sometimes on those weekends Inuyasha wouldn’t even be there — instead, he’d be on the road with the rowing team to some event or another on the other side of the country. Japan never felt so big to Kagome as when the two of them were apart.
But now... Inuyasha was the one visiting.
He was coming to her apartment for the first time.
He was going to spend the night. With her. In her apartment. Just them.
And oh, god, he was going to arrive any. Minute.
Kagome forced herself to put down the damp cloth and take a deep breath. Her apartment was clean. She looked...at least mostly cute, in what (she hoped) was a breezy and effortless three-quarter-sleeved dress that fitted at the waist, flared at the hips and had a little bow that swished when she walked.
Everything was ready.
Everything except…
Kagome turned to consider the sofa. She wasn’t able to afford an apartment with more than one bedroom (seriously, no one on a student budget could), so the armrests and back of the little two-seater she’d bought from Nitori could fold down and double as a bed. She could set it up in advance, put the sheets on it, so it would be ready for Inuyasha to sleep on.
But...
She didn’t want to.
Kagome wanted, absolutely, totally 100% to finally be able to take the next step, any next step, and tell Inuyasha how she felt. And maybe sleep in the same bed. And maybe do things that weren’t sleeping.
She just...didn’t know if he felt the same way.
Her internal struggle was put to rest with a sharp rap on the door.
He’s here! Went her heart.
In two strides she was at the door, flinging it open unceremoniously because there he was.
The duffle bag he’d been clutching in one hand thumped to the ground, forgotten, because they were hugging, the first time they’d gotten to hug in months, and Kagome never wanted this moment to end. She didn’t care if it gave anything away, because nothing had ever felt more true and right.
After a moment — one that was both too long and too short — Kagome pulled back and craned her neck to get a proper look at him.
Time had been kind to Inuyasha Takahashi. Stunning even since high school, he’d only grown into himself in the interim. Always tall, he’d grown even taller and fleshed out, with broad, powerful shoulders that tapered to a slim waist and an ass Kagome knew was glorious because she may or may not have seen some photos of him on a sports website once...or twice. But the important things had stayed the same: the warmth that radiated out from his honeycomb-gold eyes and the way they crinkled when he smiled (which was often); the little dimple tucked, like a secret, into one corner of his mouth; how his hands were always a blur of motion, illustrating his words with broad sweeps; the fact that he alway blunted his claws the tiniest bit when he knew they were meeting up, in case he accidentally scratched her.
“You made it!” she cried in delight, giving him one last squeeze. “Find the apartment OK?”
“Yeah, Google Maps made it easy, though you live a stupidly far distance from the station.”
“The woes of us non-athletes, we can’t all have fancy scholarships that come with dorm rooms.”
“Beats having a grumpy RA who hates fun,” Inuyasha grumbled. Kagome stepped aside to wave him in, and Inuyasha kicked his bag over to the — still in sofa form — couch. “I swear, if I’m even a minute past curfew she makes me write an apology letter for ‘promoting immoral behavior in my kohai.’”
“ Are you?” Kagome asked, curious. Inuyasha snorted.
“Of course not, I’m too tired for midnight immoral behavior.”
“I hope you’ve saved up enough energy for me, though,” she said. Then realized what she said. Then felt her face flame.
Inuyasha gave her a bit of a strange look, but let her innuendo slide. Though she could have sworn his cheeks were just as pink as her own. Then again, maybe it was just the light...
“So how about dinner?” she squeaked, her voice a half-octave higher than normal. “I thought we could order in from this karaage place. I know it’s not ramen, but it’s still pretty good.”
“What, you didn’t plan on cooking for me?” Inu said, flopping down onto the — still a sofa! — couch. “Naw, Kagome, you know I’m good for anything. This is my cheat trip, after all, and what my coach doesn’t know won’t hurt me.” He patted his washboard abs.
One phone call and a mere 15-minute wait later, a courier dropped off three piping-hot bags of fried chicken and — heck, if it was a cheat day, they were nothing if not committed — french fries doused in honey-butter and Parmesan cheese. B-L-I-S-S.
Eventually they both somehow squished onto the couch — who knew that Inuyasha’s legs took up so much space — and put on a movie they’d both seen before. With the lights off and only the flickering glow from the TV illuminating them, Kagome snuck glances at Inuyasha from the corners of her eyes. But even though she felt like she could hardly concentrate, every time she looked his way, his gaze was fixed on the screen. When the first movie finished with both of them wiping tears of laughter from their eyes — seriously, “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” never got old — they put on another. And whether it was the hype of the day coming to an end, or the way Kagome felt cozy and full of chicken and fried potatoes, but cradled by the armrest and the warm press of Inuyasha’s side, she felt herself starting to droop, blinking slower...and slower…
...and then she was blearily looking up at Inuyasha’s face from where her head had landed, inexplicably, in his lap; her arms were wrapped around — practically cuddling! — one firm thigh; and he was...stroking her hair, amusement — and maybe something else? — sparkling in his eyes.
“G’morning, Special K.”
“Hrnnnngh ,” her mouth said. Then: “Is the movie over?”
“Yup, you missed...most of it, actually,” he said.
“Oh.” On the one hand, embarrassing. On the other...he apparently let her cling to his leg for almost an hour? “I guess I am pretty tired,” Kagome admitted. “I know it’s barely 9 but...we could get ready for bed?”
Inuyasha stretched, popping his spine several satisfying times. “I could be convinced,” he said. “It’s been a long day and, knowing you, you’ve planned some epic itinerary for tomorrow that will have me dead on my feet by the end of it.”
They both rose to their feet, Kagome clearing the last of the dishes, stacking them by the sink to wash tomorrow, and Inuyasha unzipping his duffel bag to pull out a small toiletries kit and a pair of loose drawstring sleeping pants.
“Shower’s all yours,” Kagome offered, showing him to the small ofuro room and pointing out where the spare towels were as well as which toiletries would (probably) suit his nose best. And then, while the shower was running and she tried not to think too hard about the fact that Inuyasha was naked in her apartment, Kagome contemplated the sofa. Again.
Specifically: Should she finally commit to unfolding it into a bed? Or...not?
Having Inuyasha sleep on the sofa bed would be...easy. Simple. A maintenance of the status quo and the delicate balance she tried to keep between her heart and her head. One wanted to profess a deep and abiding love for the hanyo who had bewitched her every atom. The other was terrified he didn’t return her feelings and, in that fear, figured what they had now was better than having nothing. That even if he wasn’t hers, a life that he was at least in was better than the alternative.
Kagome understood the timid, indecisive part of her. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
Because even though she’d long learned Inuyasha was far from perfect — he was a dork and a nerd and had a penchant for some truly cringe-worth dancing — he was still the brightest spot in her life and she wanted to dive headfirst into the golden glow he radiated down on her and never come back up.
Just then the background shhhh of the running water shut off, and Inuyasha emerged from the shower, trailing a cloud of fragrant steam, a scant moment later. Still slightly damp, toweling off his hair, and...shirtless. Bless.
“All yours, Kagome,” Inuyasha said.
I wish you were, she thought.
“Thanks,” she managed to squeak, scurrying to grab her own pajamas from her bedroom and hide in the relative safety of the shower. She scrubbed herself quickly but forcefully, letting the scalding-hot water pound over her shoulders and back until she felt like a steamed lobster. Body cleansed, teeth brushed, and hair plaited into a braid so it wouldn’t tangle, Kagome took a deep breath and opened the door.
Inuyasha was lounging along the length of the sofa, hands propped beneath his head like a pillow and feet dangling off the armrest, since he was far too tall to fit.
“I’m all set for bed,” he said cheerfully.
“No you’re not!” Kagome blurted.
Well. Decision made. Time to commit.
“Um, no, I definitely am,” Inuyasha replied, golden eyes furrowed in confusion. “I just need a pillow, or something, if you have one to spare.”
“No, you’re not,” Kagome repeated, “because that’s not a bed! And you don’t even fit on it! So you should just come...sleep in...my...bed…” Her voice trailed off a bit, but, she said it .
“Aw, Kagome, I’m not going to make you take the sofa,” Inuyasha protested, and Kagome almost wanted to facepalm — seriously, he was just so dense sometimes.
“I meant,” she patiently explained, “that you should just come sleep in my bed. With me. Also in it. Together.”
“Kagome!” Inuyasha sputtered, and this time, Kagome could absolutely, totally 100% confirm that he was blushing. She crossed her arms, noticing how his gaze flickered down to her cleavage, which was distinctly showing from her V-necked sleep shirt. And she wasn’t beyond a bit of temptation, if that’s what it took to get her way.
Tightening her arms just enough to cause her breasts to appear just that bit more to best advantage, she relished in the way Inuyasha had to visibly fight to keep his eyes on hers, instead of dragging back down . She had never been so glad to be the type that forewent a bra to sleep.
“I have a queen-sized bed,” she wheedled, “so there’s plenty of space. There’s no reason either of us has to be uncomfortable. You definitely don’t fit on the sofa, and if you insist that I shouldn’t sleep there, well then.”
“It’s just… Are you sure…? I mean…? Is this appropriate?” he said faintly, cheeks still pink and ears twitching helplessly, the way they always did when he was flustered. Kagome liked the fact she flustered him.
“Oh, Inuyasha, it’s a big bed, and I don’t bite,” she said.
Much, she qualified internally.
So it was with some more cajoling, reassuring, and, yes, strategic bend-and-snaps to pick up a few things from the floor (thank you, “Legally Blonde”), that Kagome got Inuyasha into bed with her.
Of course, like the gentleman he was, he insisted he’d lay on top of the duvet, and given the effort it took to get this far, Kagome wasn’t about to push this final point. Instead, she slid beneath the covers, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness, at least until her eyes adjusted to the faint glow of streetlights and store signs that filtered around the edges of the curtains.
“Good night, Inuyasha,” she murmured, rolling so her back was to him. She wanted so badly to turn and face him, to see if his eyes would glow like embers, but didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Or pressured. Or whatever.
“Night, Special K,” he replied huskily. The low rasp of his voice caused a delicious shiver to run down her body.
Sleep felt futile.
Kagome tried to drift off, she really did, but even with her eyes closed and attempting to keep her breathing deep and slow, it was like all of her senses had lasered-in to the presence of the hanyo beside her.
She could hear every breath he took, and found her own breathing adjusting to match his; every rustle of the covers, she imagined were his hands and lips moving over her own skin and she found herself sighing in longing. Even though she was under the covers, and he was not, her back felt tingly and warm, and she wriggled slightly to try and brush his arm the slightest bit...
Because Kagome ached to touch him. Kiss him. Show Inuyasha the way she felt for him. Had felt for him since high school. Even though she’d long taken him down from the “perfection pedestal,” he was still the most important person in her life.
The last coherent thought she had before she drifted off was that this was the sweetest form of torture…
...and the first she had upon waking up the next morning, birds chirping at an irritatingly high frequency outside the window, was that she was cozy and warm and did not want to open her eyes. Kagome hummed and snuggled deeper into the warmth, reveling in the way her hands cradled the broad, smooth expanse of Inuyasha’s chest and the way his arm — which was wrapped around her, coming dangerously close to clutching her ass — reflexively pulled her in closer. He smelled rich and musky and spicy, like sandalwood and citrus.
Wait.
Waitwaitwait.
All at once, Kagome was absolutely, totally 100% awake, adrenaline coursing through her system. And realized she was practically plastered to, with her arm flung over his chest and one leg hooked over his, Inuyasha.
Somehow, in the middle of the night, separation-by-covers be damned, the two of them had ended up cuddling, in a very-not-platonic manner. And, as her body joined her mind in wakefulness, she realized she could feel every substantial inch of him.
Kagome trailed her eyes up to find Inuyasha still sleeping, but only just. Even as she watched, his eyes fluttered open, and she was able to witness the full spectrum of emotion that passed across his face: bleary half-wakefulness, contentment, surprise, confusion, and a dawning realization that maybe he had messed the F up.
When he moved to pull away, Kagome reflexively tightened her hold, to try and reassure him that she liked the way they were.
“No, don’t…” she murmured. “Stay.”
“Kagome, I—” he choked out, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! This wasn’t how I wanted it to happen!”
“Wanted what to happen?” Kagome asked. When he didn’t answer, merely trying to hide his blushing face underneath his free hand, she pressed herself more firmly into him.
“Oh god, boobs,” she heard him whisper, “how did you know I’m weak to boobs.”
“Since I found that dirty magazine under your bed that one time and didn’t tell you. Don’t ever say I never pay attention to you,” Kagome smirked. “What exactly did you want to happen, Inuyasha?” She started to trace one finger in lazy loops over his pecs, down to his navel and back up again, causing him to groan.
“You know…” he hedged.
“Hmmmm?”
“I just wanted it to be perfect.”
“Inu-YASHA!” Tired of beating around the bush, Kagome — despite her reluctance to break contact with Inuyasha’s skin — sat upright so she could look him in the eye, properly. “What do you mean by ‘ it ’?”
And whether it was the fact they were now looking at each other directly, or that her breasts were now (tantalizingly, she assumed) at eye level, Inuyasha blushed even harder.
“Telling you I...liked you. I wanted the moment to be perfect.” He reached his free hand up to cup her cheek, stroking one thumb softly over her skin until it brushed the plush of her mouth. “I’ve been waiting for so long…”
With a twist of her head, Kagome gave his thumb a quick kiss. Then a little kitten lick; Inuyasha let out a small, strangled whine. “Too long,” she grumbled. “There’s no such thing as perfect.”
“But you’re perfect,” Inuyasha murmured.
Kagome snorted — she couldn’t help it. “Perfect? Me? You must be joking. Inuyasha, I’m, like, the least perfect person. I have zero coordination, a tendency of oversleep all my alarms, a terrifying aversion to any and all forms of mathematics, and can’t parallel park to save my life. What part of that screams ‘perfection’ to you?”
Inuyasha tugged her back down so she was once again pressed flush against his chest. Not that she minded at all. His hands started to run through her hair, down to her upper back in a soothing rhythm, and the slight scratch of his claws sent tingles shooting up and down her spine, and she sighed in pleasure.
“That’s not what I meant by perfect,” he admitted. “It’s more like...you’re perfect...for me. You call me out on my bullshit, push me when I need encouragement, sit in silence with me when I need quiet. You match my terrible dancing — yes, I actually do know I’m a terrible dancer — with your off-key singing in the shower. We have the same awful taste in movies. It’s like some crucial part of me is missing when we’re not together.”
“Inuyasha!” Kagome wriggled around until she could see his face, which — though still peach-pink — was gazing at her with a warmth that made those spine tingles move to her heart and belly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt.”
“Miroku may or may not have helped me practice…” he admitted ruefully.
“I may or may not owe Miroku a beer.”
“You really don’t. It would just inflate his ego, and I have a hard enough time dealing with that already. Damned musicians.”
Kagome giggled at the faux-horror in Inuyasha’s voice. No, she wasn’t perfect. And neither was he. But she’d realized for a long time now that she didn’t want him to be perfect. Perfect was unattainable, untouchable, unreal. She wanted the dorky, driven, adorable Inuyasha just the way he was. Without needing to change himself because of her. Or for her. Just as she didn’t need to change for him.
All she really wanted was…
Well. She already knew what she absolutely, totally 100% wanted.
“Inuyasha?”
“Mmm?” he hummed.
“Will you be my boyfriend?”
She finally got their first kiss once he stopped sputtering in surprise. And then a second kiss. And then some more kisses. Without clothes. And it was, if not exactly perfect , just what she wanted.
“Kagomeeeee,” Inuyasha’s voice carried through her apartment as he let himself in. She’d given him a key shortly after they started dating, which made it more convenient for them whenever he was able to visit Kyoto (which, given the frequency with which his rowing team traveled the country, was decently often). There were other perks too, of course — like the time he’d beaten her home and greeted her clad in nothing but a pair of very tight rowing shorts. Those hadn’t stayed on for terribly long...
“I’m in the living room,” she called out. “Sango just left.”
It had been a busy Sunday, with her best friend visiting over the long weekend and her boyfriend — her boyfriend! — in town for the next few days for a regatta. She didn’t question exactly how he managed to get special dispensation from his coach to stay with her instead of at a hotel whenever the team was in town, but was deeply grateful.
“Can you help me with this?”
She’d been trying to click the sofa bed — which she had unfolded for Sango — back into place for at least 10 minutes. For some reason the hinge was sticking, and it wasn’t locking into its upright position.
“Sure!”
Inuyasha dumped his usual duffel bag on the ground and, with seemingly no effort at all, got the back of the sofa to stay up.
“Thanks,” she sighed in gratitude, standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I appreciate you.”
“No problem.” He flexed his muscles. “What else is the gym good for?”
Then he stopped. And stared at the sofa. Then at her. Then at the sofa again.
“Wait…” he said. “This was a sofa bed the whole time?! ”
Crap. Kagome quickly thought back over the past six months to see if Inuyasha would ever have seen the sofa bed unfolded before. And realized that he actually hadn’t. “Um. I bought a new one?” she tried.
Her boyfriend bent over to sniff the fabric. Then gave her a Look. “I know it’s not, Special K. Because I can smell every single naughty thing we’ve done on this couch.”
Damn hanyo senses.
“OK so maaaybe it was a sofa bed. And maaaybe I didn’t tell you at the time. But...you love me anyways?”
Inuyasha huffed at her in return, then reached out and pulled her close into him, planting a searing kiss on her mouth. Kagome felt her knees go a bit wobbly. Her boyfriend — her boyfriend! — was an amazing kisser.
“I do love you anyways,” he rasped, looking just as kiss-drunk and dazed as she felt. “And now I know there’s even more ways we can have fun in this room.”
Kagome grinned and twined her arms around his neck for another kiss. Somehow she suspected neither of them would be getting much sleep that night.
Thanks to the sofa bed.