#44 | Apricot
Fandom: Natasha [General Series]
Prompt: 100colors #44-Apricot
Word Count: 774
Warnings: Girl on girl action o.0
Author's Notes: Holy crow! I haven’t posted here in…forever :/
Miroku crouched low in the bushes, trying his best not to move, least he be heard or seen. It had been a while since he had done this; snuck after the girls when they headed for the hot springs. Inuyasha was normally there to drag him back if he attempted it, but tonight the hanyou was conveniently gone, leaving the monk with no one to police his actions but himself. Therefore, of course, he had followed the two lovely ladies discreetly. He had needed to take care as he crept closer to the pool of warm spring water, and as a result had managed to miss the girls disrobing. Miroku frowned slightly. That was usually his favorite part; the one time he was allowed to view their bodies without the hindrance of the water, or anything else for that matter. Luckily, this pool was reasonably clear and he was able to make out most of their bodies anyway.
Kagome and Sango were talking to one another as they soaked in the warm water, their voices too low for Miroku to make out what they were saying. Kagome suddenly nodded and reached for her shampoo bottle, while Sango dipped below the surface completely. Kagome squeezed some of the sweet smelling shampoo, apricot if he wasn’t mistaken, into her hands as Sango turned her back on the blue-eyed girl. Kagome rubbed her hands together for an instant before she began washing Sango’s hair. Miroku had watched them do this before, taking turns washing each other’s hair, but this time it seemed much more…sensual. Sango arched her back slightly, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment as Kagome massaged the shampoo into her scalp.
“Mmm,” Sango moaned as one of Kagome’s hands slipped down her neck, over her shoulder, and towards her breast.
Miroku blinked. What? That was certainly something new they had added to their bathing routine since the last time he had spied on them. Kagome’s other hand joined the first, one on each of Sango’s breasts, and Sango moaned again. Kagome giggled, whispering something in her ear before pulling her hands away and allowing Sango to dip below the water once more, presumably to rinse the shampoo from her hair. Sango surfaced several seconds later, now facing Kagome. The younger woman wasted no time, burying her hands into Sango’s wet hair and pulling her forward into a kiss. Miroku held his breath as the two melted together, praying they would take things further. Their hands roamed one another’s bodies with a practiced ease that made Miroku wonder just how many times this had happened before. Sango’s right hand slipped down Kagome’s lithe form and beneath the water as Kagome’s head fell back, her hair cascading across the water. In seconds, Kagome was mewing for Sango, her fingers gripping the slayer’s shoulders as her hand continued to work under the water and her lips nibbled on the priestess’s neck.
“Sango,” Kagome breathed, pleading.
Miroku gaped at the scene before him. How had he managed to get so lucky? He had fantasized about this so many times, and now it was really happening, not twenty feet from him. The thought brought forth an unhappy realization. Could this just be in his mind? Could this be nothing more then an amazingly realistic dream? Miroku gripped his staff tightly and brought it slamming down on his foot. The pain registered quickly and before he could catch himself, he let out a pained gasp. He bit the inside of his cheek, cursing himself for such a stupid blunder. There was no way the girls hadn’t heard him. Sure enough, Kagome’s soft voice called to him. “Miroku-sama?” she asked, followed by a giggle.
Miroku’s options raced through his mind. They already knew he was there; or at least they suspected it was him. Kagome didn’t sound angry, quite the opposite. Should he show himself, or would it be better to remain unseen?
“Miroku?” Sango called out and Miroku could not refuse her.
He stood up to his full height, the bushes he had been hiding in coming to his waist. “Ladies,” he greeted, his voice thick.
He was surprised when they didn’t yell or throw something at him, and astonished when they didn’t make a move to shield themselves from his eyes. The girls shared a glace, and then Sango held her hand out towards Miroku, an invitation. Miroku’s feet moved him forward without his bidding them to.
‘I must be dreaming,’ he thought, and then pain shot through his foot once more. ‘Nope. This is really happening.’
“Miroku-sama,” Kagome asked, her voice hinting at concern. “Why are you limping?”