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Description
21. Artwork

Inuyasha has heard of art. He hasn't had much first hand experience with it; it isn't like there are many people carrying priceless or at least showing off pieces that are worth looking at. He can only really recall one painting, but that was so long ago, he can barely remember it.

Most are messy, done with little skill and even less patience, or so Miroku has claimed. Artwork, his friend had explained, was something that was extremely beautiful, something that was what it was and worth even more because a person's first glance wasn't enough. A work of art, had a person coming back again and again, just to admire it, or to try decipher it, or to just touch it. That had been when Sango had slapped him.

His friend's description of art runs through his head as he traces a bare, pale, smooth shoulder with the tips of his fingers. His claws gently catching the wispy cobwebs hanging from his mate's head messily, each strand splayed across the pillow he has his head rested on or Inuyasha's chest. Inuyasha gingerly brushes them back over Sesshomaru's shoulder, a smile on his face at his brother's content expression.

It has truly been a magical couple of months if Inuyasha is to be gushy about it. But if he is not he thinks it has been fun to root his brother in most of his home, at any time of the day or night. Inuyasha must admit that it has been fun pulling Sesshomaru into abandoned (or at least empty) rooms and dragging him - all the while forcing the Lord to forget or ignore whatever thing he had planned or was supposed to be dealing with - off to the demon Lord's quarters with a lecherous grin. He hopes their activities will continue for a long while.

Inuyasha's hopes only grow stronger as he watches his brother's back rise and fall as his chest expands and deflates steadily, feeling the smooth muscles heat and rub against the skin on his stomach, from where he lays draped across Inuyasha. The half-breed swipes a thumb across Sesshomaru's forehead, over the moon marking, and feels pride well inside him at the shudder that wracks through Sesshomaru's being.

Surprisingly, Sesshomaru is a heavy sleeper, once he is content and secure within his surroundings. It seems to be the only time the Lord is completely ignorant of his surroundings. Inuyasha has been able to rearrange his brother's limbs and position so he is lying in his arms, his chin resting (almost) painfully on his sternum. He can feel his brother's breathe, warm and steadily over his face, neck and chin, depending on how he has his head turned.

Inuyasha has learnt that his brother's markings are sensitive to body warmth and skin-to-skin contact. It is the reason why his brother's kimono doesn't irritate the stripes decorating Sesshomaru's hips, ankles or wrists. It is the reason Inuyasha doesn't force Sesshomaru's head to rest with his cheek against his chest, thus not hurting the half-breed.

Each marking highlights a defined cheek bone covered in smooth skin that's warm to touch. He critically examines them, finding that Sesshomaru's upper right marking is slightly longer than the left one. His brother's nose is even, well placed and elegant, just as the dark eyebrows, now relaxed and resting above the Lord's pink marked eyes, are. The blue crescent moon on Sesshomaru's forehead holds Inuyasha's interest the most though; it is rare to find a demon with markings that purposely looks like something.

Once again, Inuyasha eyes the platinum white, strewn about hair laying over them both. Then the half-breed's amber eyes follow the curve of Sesshomaru's thin neck, then his strong back, before his right hand decides to follow their path. Sesshomaru really does have soft skin; Inuyasha had never thought a man could have skin like his brother does: pale like moonlight, smooth like a calm lake, warm like a candle alight.

As Inuyasha's eyes focus on his brother's left shoulder, he admits silently that he doesn't feel at all sorry for cutting off Sesshomaru's arm; the bastard had been attacking him! It had been fight or die and Inuyasha doesn't think Sesshomaru could fairly blame him for decapitating his left arm. It could have been worse. The ass was alive wasn't he?

Slowly, Inuyasha tickles his claws along the flat plain of skin at the base of the stump left on Sesshomaru's left shoulder. Even with it gone, Sesshomaru creates a unique perfection out of his flaws. The ass, bastard... Show off.

Inuyasha smirks, his eyes now on the talons connected to Sesshomaru's feminine fingers, that are joined to an equally feminine hand. If it weren't as large as it is, Inuyasha would have sworn it had been ripped from a woman and then attached to Sesshomaru's magenta striped wrist. Idly, the half-breed taps his own claws on his brother's listening carefully to the small `tick-tick-tick' the action causes.

The half-breed worms the fingers of his left hand under Sesshomaru's, tenderly stroking the slightly calloused skin of the demon's palm and finger pads. If Inuyasha imagines hard enough, it will seem like they are holding hands.
After a moment, Inuyasha's fingers leave his brothers and once again he is examining his brother's torso. His eyes glow mischievously as he eyes the barely visible stripe on Sesshomaru's right hip, half hidden by the thin blankets Sesshomaru kept on his futon and that are gathered around their waists.

Cheekily he grins; his right hand comes to life, sliding sensually down to the small of his brother's back, slowly, ever so slowly, sliding lower and lower…

“Do not dare to mimic the monk.”

Inuyasha's eyes are instantly on his brother's own, amused to find the demon Lord watching him from behind half closed lids. He looks calm, relaxed, rested. He looks thoroughly ravished, his usually perfectly kept hair hanging messily around his shoulders as he shifts his head and pushes a few stray strands behind his ear before he settles his chin against his forearm which is laying on Inuyasha's chest. Inuyasha doesn't think his brother has looked more beautiful than he does now, and that realisation doesn't help relieve the discomfort he has caused to originate from his nether regions. If anything, it helps it grow.

He smirks, his arm wrapping around Sesshomaru to pull him up, so they are laying lips to lips, for a slow kiss. As his brother moans lowly, and Inuyasha's left thumb drags over the marking framing Sesshomaru's hip, his right hand resumes its quest.

Inuyasha grins as his brother jerks back and glares down at him as he gives his brother's lovely round rump a tight, playful squeeze.

Yes, his brother is most definitely a work of art.

Description
21. Artwork

Inuyasha has heard of art. He hasn't had much first hand experience with it; it isn't like there are many people carrying priceless or at least showing off pieces that are worth looking at. He can only really recall one painting, but that was so long ago, he can barely remember it.

Most are messy, done with little skill and even less patience, or so Miroku has claimed. Artwork, his friend had explained, was something that was extremely beautiful, something that was what it was and worth even more because a person's first glance wasn't enough. A work of art, had a person coming back again and again, just to admire it, or to try decipher it, or to just touch it. That had been when Sango had slapped him.

His friend's description of art runs through his head as he traces a bare, pale, smooth shoulder with the tips of his fingers. His claws gently catching the wispy cobwebs hanging from his mate's head messily, each strand splayed across the pillow he has his head rested on or Inuyasha's chest. Inuyasha gingerly brushes them back over Sesshomaru's shoulder, a smile on his face at his brother's content expression.

It has truly been a magical couple of months if Inuyasha is to be gushy about it. But if he is not he thinks it has been fun to root his brother in most of his home, at any time of the day or night. Inuyasha must admit that it has been fun pulling Sesshomaru into abandoned (or at least empty) rooms and dragging him - all the while forcing the Lord to forget or ignore whatever thing he had planned or was supposed to be dealing with - off to the demon Lord's quarters with a lecherous grin. He hopes their activities will continue for a long while.

Inuyasha's hopes only grow stronger as he watches his brother's back rise and fall as his chest expands and deflates steadily, feeling the smooth muscles heat and rub against the skin on his stomach, from where he lays draped across Inuyasha. The half-breed swipes a thumb across Sesshomaru's forehead, over the moon marking, and feels pride well inside him at the shudder that wracks through Sesshomaru's being.

Surprisingly, Sesshomaru is a heavy sleeper, once he is content and secure within his surroundings. It seems to be the only time the Lord is completely ignorant of his surroundings. Inuyasha has been able to rearrange his brother's limbs and position so he is lying in his arms, his chin resting (almost) painfully on his sternum. He can feel his brother's breathe, warm and steadily over his face, neck and chin, depending on how he has his head turned.

Inuyasha has learnt that his brother's markings are sensitive to body warmth and skin-to-skin contact. It is the reason why his brother's kimono doesn't irritate the stripes decorating Sesshomaru's hips, ankles or wrists. It is the reason Inuyasha doesn't force Sesshomaru's head to rest with his cheek against his chest, thus not hurting the half-breed.

Each marking highlights a defined cheek bone covered in smooth skin that's warm to touch. He critically examines them, finding that Sesshomaru's upper right marking is slightly longer than the left one. His brother's nose is even, well placed and elegant, just as the dark eyebrows, now relaxed and resting above the Lord's pink marked eyes, are. The blue crescent moon on Sesshomaru's forehead holds Inuyasha's interest the most though; it is rare to find a demon with markings that purposely looks like something.

Once again, Inuyasha eyes the platinum white, strewn about hair laying over them both. Then the half-breed's amber eyes follow the curve of Sesshomaru's thin neck, then his strong back, before his right hand decides to follow their path. Sesshomaru really does have soft skin; Inuyasha had never thought a man could have skin like his brother does: pale like moonlight, smooth like a calm lake, warm like a candle alight.

As Inuyasha's eyes focus on his brother's left shoulder, he admits silently that he doesn't feel at all sorry for cutting off Sesshomaru's arm; the bastard had been attacking him! It had been fight or die and Inuyasha doesn't think Sesshomaru could fairly blame him for decapitating his left arm. It could have been worse. The ass was alive wasn't he?

Slowly, Inuyasha tickles his claws along the flat plain of skin at the base of the stump left on Sesshomaru's left shoulder. Even with it gone, Sesshomaru creates a unique perfection out of his flaws. The ass, bastard... Show off.

Inuyasha smirks, his eyes now on the talons connected to Sesshomaru's feminine fingers, that are joined to an equally feminine hand. If it weren't as large as it is, Inuyasha would have sworn it had been ripped from a woman and then attached to Sesshomaru's magenta striped wrist. Idly, the half-breed taps his own claws on his brother's listening carefully to the small `tick-tick-tick' the action causes.

The half-breed worms the fingers of his left hand under Sesshomaru's, tenderly stroking the slightly calloused skin of the demon's palm and finger pads. If Inuyasha imagines hard enough, it will seem like they are holding hands.
After a moment, Inuyasha's fingers leave his brothers and once again he is examining his brother's torso. His eyes glow mischievously as he eyes the barely visible stripe on Sesshomaru's right hip, half hidden by the thin blankets Sesshomaru kept on his futon and that are gathered around their waists.

Cheekily he grins; his right hand comes to life, sliding sensually down to the small of his brother's back, slowly, ever so slowly, sliding lower and lower…

“Do not dare to mimic the monk.”

Inuyasha's eyes are instantly on his brother's own, amused to find the demon Lord watching him from behind half closed lids. He looks calm, relaxed, rested. He looks thoroughly ravished, his usually perfectly kept hair hanging messily around his shoulders as he shifts his head and pushes a few stray strands behind his ear before he settles his chin against his forearm which is laying on Inuyasha's chest. Inuyasha doesn't think his brother has looked more beautiful than he does now, and that realisation doesn't help relieve the discomfort he has caused to originate from his nether regions. If anything, it helps it grow.

He smirks, his arm wrapping around Sesshomaru to pull him up, so they are laying lips to lips, for a slow kiss. As his brother moans lowly, and Inuyasha's left thumb drags over the marking framing Sesshomaru's hip, his right hand resumes its quest.

Inuyasha grins as his brother jerks back and glares down at him as he gives his brother's lovely round rump a tight, playful squeeze.

Yes, his brother is most definitely a work of art.