[Inuyasha] Too Much
Fandom: Inuyasha
Title: Too Much
Word Count: ~480
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Implied Sango/Miroku
Warnings: References to sexual situations, alcohol abuse
Summary: He held onto her.
Notes: Posted for the prompt "Gluttony", at mirsanficart
Miroku's hand trembled as he brushed his damp fringe away from his sweaty, clammy brow. He felt the pressure on his insides before it arrived; thankfully, the heaves were dry by now.
Too. Much. Sake.
He was never, ever drinking again. He promised.
When exactly his conscience had taken the form of Sango's disapproving glare, he could not tell. He felt strangely violated that aspects of his most intimate identity had been penetrated by her and woven with images of her expressive eyes, her pouty lips, her soft curves--
Dry heave.
He could not hope his absence hadn't been felt by the girls; they all had to share a room that night. He could almost picture them in his head: Kagome cuddling Shippou in her sleep; Inuyasha sitting by her futon, his back against the wall and Tessaiga in his arms, never fully asleep; Sango's fiery eyes staring into the darkness until he came back, hoping he might just slip in beside her and feel her sweet, soft curves--
Dry heave.
Trust Sango to control his insides as well as his hand and conscience.
That fantasy was particularly unattainable, however - he had to admit. As if Sango would ever let him in her bed like that...welcome him, let him touch her in his favorite places and maybe even more, hmmm--
Wet heave. Ugh.
He always did want too much from her - too much physical contact, too much feeling betraying her eyes - but she was always guarded, always behind the tallest of walls. He had learned to read her, yes; enough to recognise the thrill overwhelming her entire body when he had finally proposed. Yes, she had said to him, silently, her back turned away from him as if to protect her heart. Please, there is nothing I could possibly want more than this...please, let it be it…
And it was what she had hoped for...but then he tried to get that reaction again, even for a second, and almost never could. Even her anger had become an acceptable substitute, so he would often do something to inspire it. His cheek may have become permanently marked, but his heart was as bound as ever.
He had believed the relationship would inspire him to change somehow, he realized as an ominous hiccup shook him. He had avoided facing the fact that he might have to make some effort for it, believing instead that it might come naturally at some point, but the expectation was there. As he smelled the pungency of the sake coming out of his very pores, however, it was clearer than ever that she was simply another outlet.
"I want her too much," he whispered hoarsely. Like the burning of the sake within his veins, the sting of her slaps and cold glares turned his vice into punishment. But he held onto it.
He held onto her.
Title: Too Much
Word Count: ~480
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Implied Sango/Miroku
Warnings: References to sexual situations, alcohol abuse
Summary: He held onto her.
Notes: Posted for the prompt "Gluttony", at mirsanficart
Miroku's hand trembled as he brushed his damp fringe away from his sweaty, clammy brow. He felt the pressure on his insides before it arrived; thankfully, the heaves were dry by now.
Too. Much. Sake.
He was never, ever drinking again. He promised.
When exactly his conscience had taken the form of Sango's disapproving glare, he could not tell. He felt strangely violated that aspects of his most intimate identity had been penetrated by her and woven with images of her expressive eyes, her pouty lips, her soft curves--
Dry heave.
He could not hope his absence hadn't been felt by the girls; they all had to share a room that night. He could almost picture them in his head: Kagome cuddling Shippou in her sleep; Inuyasha sitting by her futon, his back against the wall and Tessaiga in his arms, never fully asleep; Sango's fiery eyes staring into the darkness until he came back, hoping he might just slip in beside her and feel her sweet, soft curves--
Dry heave.
Trust Sango to control his insides as well as his hand and conscience.
That fantasy was particularly unattainable, however - he had to admit. As if Sango would ever let him in her bed like that...welcome him, let him touch her in his favorite places and maybe even more, hmmm--
Wet heave. Ugh.
He always did want too much from her - too much physical contact, too much feeling betraying her eyes - but she was always guarded, always behind the tallest of walls. He had learned to read her, yes; enough to recognise the thrill overwhelming her entire body when he had finally proposed. Yes, she had said to him, silently, her back turned away from him as if to protect her heart. Please, there is nothing I could possibly want more than this...please, let it be it…
And it was what she had hoped for...but then he tried to get that reaction again, even for a second, and almost never could. Even her anger had become an acceptable substitute, so he would often do something to inspire it. His cheek may have become permanently marked, but his heart was as bound as ever.
He had believed the relationship would inspire him to change somehow, he realized as an ominous hiccup shook him. He had avoided facing the fact that he might have to make some effort for it, believing instead that it might come naturally at some point, but the expectation was there. As he smelled the pungency of the sake coming out of his very pores, however, it was clearer than ever that she was simply another outlet.
"I want her too much," he whispered hoarsely. Like the burning of the sake within his veins, the sting of her slaps and cold glares turned his vice into punishment. But he held onto it.
He held onto her.