knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,
knittingknots
knittingknots

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Oneshot: A Morning Earful

(I wrote this for week 20 at IYcaptions.  It's inspired, loosely, on KrisCynical's artwork,  Trusting Touch
They need more entries!)



A Morning Earful


The sky was graying.  It wouldn’t be long before the sun broke over the horizon.

They stood outside of the house.  The night had been long and hot and sticky, and finally too confining.  For a time, they had laid out on the grass, watching the stars on the moonless night, when they were their most brilliant, telling old stories about the heavens and counting and wishing on the occasional shooting star.  But eventually, the stars faded away.

Kagome stood up, brushed the grass and dust off of her kosode and looked at her husband.  He lay there, his black locks spread out behind him in a midnight wave.  His shell-like ears projected from the sides of his jaws.  She thought him rather beautiful laying there like that.

“It’s almost dawn,” she said, yawning.  She covered her mouth with her hand, then gave him a wry, sleepy smile.

“Yeah,” he replied, standing up.

She moved next to him, and rested a hand on the red of his jacket, looking into his violet eyes.

He covered her hand with his much larger one.   “You didn’t have to stay up, too, you know.”

“I know,” she said.  “But it was nice, staying up to watch with you.”

 Reaching up, she flicked  a twig out of his hair and ran her fingers through the long dark tresses on the side of his hair, brushing her fingers over his ear as she did so.

He caught her hand and pulled it down as he leaned forward, breathing into her ear.  “That tickles, you know.”

“Oh does it?” she said, with a wicked look that let him know she was going to try it again. 

He let her wrestle her hand free, but as she moved her finger teasingly across his jawline and towards his ear, the sun broke over the horizon and his youki pulsed.  Almost instantaneously, the dark of his hair grew silver and his ears morphed, changing rapidly from human to youkai and sped off of his jawline and into their usual canine form at the top of his head.  Her fingers reached out against the flat skin at the end of his jaw, unable to catch the ear in its  transformation.

He grinned at her, a toothy grin that exposed his newly regained canines, and rested his hand on hers once more.

“No tickling before breakfast,” he said, bringing her hand between them.

“Spoilsport,” she replied, pouting.

Kissing her lightly on her pouty mouth, he let her chase him into the house.


 

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