Never No Answer
There's beauty in the breakdown
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Disclaimer: Saiyuki and the characters used in the
following belong to Kazuya Minekura. Darn clever Japanese imagination!
Double Disclaimer: If you’re under 18, afraid your
mom’s going to peek over your shoulder and shit a solid gold brick, or other
such reasons, this chapter is packed with promised porn! So, don’t say there
was no warning, and if you’re extremely squirmy, just avoid the
roofie martini, sex, sex! Beer bong, sex!
Did that offend you? No? Then, read on, friend! Oh, and full
apologies to anyone who thought I was tasteful. J
Sanzo came
shooting out of darkness with a hand on his chest as he sobbed for breath,
throwing out a hand to stop Goku- and finding himself sitting in a bed that he
didn’t remember getting into. He should be dead; hadn’t that damn ape gone
absolutely fucking psycho and slammed a full set of claws through his body? Sanzo
grimaced as he unclenched his hands, realizing that he even had his old robe on
with the familiar and snug sleeveless shirt and arm warmers. He blinked down at
his usual outfit, actually questioning himself as he wondered if everything
from the past few days had been nothing but a vivid dream. Sanzo shook his
head, sure that his dream had been vivid and lasted too damn long to be nothing
but a wisp of fantasy.
He reached
up with what should have been a broken limb courtesy of Goku, covered in scars
from struggling against those other
youkai though he wasn’t very clear on the details… But as Sanzo looked down at
his own hand in surprise, feeling no pain at all; in fact, even the usual
nausea and headaches that immediately followed awakening were absent. It was
damn disturbing that his flesh was smooth as silk as he touched fingers to the
sutra on still on his shoulders to find something solid to hang on. It wasn’t
very rumpled for however long he must have been laying down in this miserable
bed. He couldn’t have had a dream like that in only a few hours. Just what
could have happened, then? Had Goku really killed all those youkai like Sanzo
had so badly wanted to do? Had the youkai even attacked him in the first place?
The pains leftover from the youkai were gone as well, not even a trace of that
beating. There was no way Hakkai could have done this through of a job, never once
had he been able to heal Sanzo so well that he even felt new on the inside. What was going on? Was he finally starting
to go crazy?
His breath
went short, realizing that before Goku had tried to kill him, Sanzo had seen
ultimate proof that didn’t leave a single doubt that what Sanzo had been
dreading and suspecting was the source of the embarrassing pain in his ass. He
hadn’t spoken a word of it, knowing for sure the he had been beaten- or at
least he had been in the dream that seemed too fresh and rea be be fake- but
worse of all, that fucking demon had
painted him while it happened. He was pathetic, so weak that his mind was doing
its best to forget that he had been raped, trying to get him to think that it
was all a figment of his imagination, but it was impossible. Even if he had
been healed of every single bruise, Sanzo knew
very well what had happened. It wouldn’t hurt so bad just to remember,
humiliation burning in his chest at the single thought that Hakkai and Gojyo
had seen it. Goku had broken his demon limiter after seeing that painting.
There was solid proof in the world now that Genjo Sanzo had been reduced to
nothing more than a hole to stick a piece of meat in, like a goddamn woman with
her legs stretched open. He hadn’t been able to stop it, no matter how much he
fought, struggled, screamed, bit, or kneed. He’d been turned into worse than
dirt, not even human, in the most personal of ways...and now those three idiots
knew that he’d been helpless against a few minor youkai.
How was he
supposed to live with this new shame on top of all the others? Or had it really
been a dream? He would have all sorts of wounds, wouldn’t he? He would be dead
by Goku’s hand, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t feel like melting away right now then,
right? He wasn’t strong, not like Komyou wanted him to be. He didn’t get
emotional like tusuausually, not ever except when Komyou was involved, but he
was hopelessly loosing control of his own life. What the hell
Sanzo fell back on the bed, sick. Tired. Dead.
What was he doing now? Sanzo was almost… almost on the verge of crying
in frustration, so deathly sick and tired of having no answers.
Sanzo
wanted his gun and a swift bullet to the head. So simple, so easy to stop the constant
ache and shame. He was nothing now, certainly not a priest after this; even if
he had deviated from the ‘True Path’ before. This was beyond anything in the
scriptures, so completely wrong that
it had gone without saying. He had to kill himself now, before he shamed the
religion Komyou had believed in so much any further. The youkai responsible
were dead, the only three that could call him something other than High Priest
Genjo Sanzo knew that he’d been tied down to bed and violated. Sanzo had to
commit suicide before all honor and pride was lost, had to. How could he live with this absolute disgrace?! It was
worse than when he was younger and had been called Koryuu, a demon-child after
his spiritual powers had awakened, cursed and ill-omened since the day he was born.
Only Komyou had defended him, or believed in him. Even his own parents had
known that he would lead to nothing but embarrassment. Shouldn’t he just
finally carry out their will, no matter how belated it was?
He looked out
the window at near pitch-blackness. The only way he could tell it was a storm
by the harsh sound of the rain pouring down against the window and on the roof.
His very skin shuddered, the body energetic enough to feel the old sort of
terror Sanzo hadn’t felt over rainstorms in a long time, not since he was
young. Like the months after Komyou had died. Lightning flashed outside the
window, calling his whole attention as the sky was illuminated by an unearthly
blue-white. Gray clouds were swirling, blown by a fierce wind that was sweeping
over every roof and loose item in sight. Sanzo had to bite his lip to keep from
jumping off the bed in a panic, older now. His fingernails dug half-moons into
his palms, causing just enough light pain to focus.
He fucking
hated storms. It looked like a tornado was brewing outside by the way his skin
was starting to tremble and shiver over his muscles. Sanzo usually could tell
by the ache in his bones from old injuries if a storm was going to be bad, but
even that sensation was gone now. How many times did Hakkai have to heal him,
if that was the case? Sanzo doubted that the man would ever be able to do this
well of a job in a hundred years, so just who had laid hands on him? Sanzo was starting to get an inkling of a
suspicion to which it might be, and it left a foul taste in his mouth. He had
woken up like this before, sure that he should have been dead but somehow still
living. The powers that be were forcing him to survive even longer than a
cockroach, and Sanzo didn’t like it at all.
He up
up
to turn away from the window, not wanting to see the rain anymore but unable to
escape from the pounding on the roof or the glass rattling in the window as
wind blew hard. He clenched his eyes closed for a moment to ignore the horrible
sound of rain, then swung his legs off the mattress with an ease he hadn’t felt
in months and started walking toward the bathroom door single-mindedly, without
even taking a second glance round at the room. He didn’t want to see if it
matched up with the one in his dream, because then it would be real; nor did he
want it to look to see if it was a different room and admit that a mere fantasy
had disturbed him that much. Sanzo just made a straight line for the bathroom
and slammed the door behind him.
Sanzo
flicked the light on and was already mindlessly walking toward the toilet
before he caught a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror out of the corner of
his eye. He stopped and turned very, very
slowly to face-off with his own image in the mirror. Perfect skin, the familiar
and despised beauty unmarred with any bruises or cuts like it had been before.
Even his eyes looked different, no longer shrunken-in or puffy from lack of
sleep or migraines. He leaned in close and tilted his head up, looking for the
old scar underneath his chin from a youkai getting in a lucky punch powerful
enough to split his skin. It was gone without a trace.
He tore at
the robe with a sudden panic, working at the stubborn knot of his sash so
fiercely that the Maten Scripture fell to the tile floor. Sanzo finally managed
to get the knot undone and he shook his shoulders out from the cumbersome
clothing. Though the usual skin-tight black shirt was back, Sanzo was still
wearing a pair of torn and bloody white pajamas. He blinked at that, knowing he
could get a new pair of jeans at anytime, but then why the hell was his usual
attire in perfect shape? Why would he still be wearing the destroyed pajamas
from his d? ..? ...Unless, it wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t be anymore. Sanzo
didn’t have any other way to explain the bizarre return of his clothes.
Sanzo rolled
down the arm warmers and snapped them off his wrists. He struggled for a moment
with the turtleneck as it stuck around his head before popping off. Finally
down to nothing but his too-large pants, Sanzo could only gape at the reflection
in f of of him.
He looked
like he had been born yesterday. Sanzo stared down in horror at unspoiled, pale
milky skin that didn’t have a single mark on it. Two pale pink nipples and the
unflawed ridges of his ribcage waving down his side had no claw marks, no
bruises, not even the old scars from battles before were left. Sanzo held up
his dominant hand, starting to feel numb when even the callous and small white
scars from handling the Smith and Wesson on his thumb were gone. How could this
have possibly happ, li, like a miracle that made Sanzo sick to his stomach?
That
goddamn Kanzeon Bosatsu. That bitch! Always watching him like he was child that
couldn’t even be trusted to walk a straight line west. Goku had flipped out
again and tried to kill him, and just like last time she had intervened at the
last moment. Sanzo couldn’t understand how a Goddess could ignore how badly he
couldn’t walk around with this much shame, sure now that it had not been a
dream, and deadly calm with the fury that Kanzeon Bosatsu had taken away all
signs of his suffering.
He hesitantly
felt the center of his own chest with trembling fingers, touching skin that
wasn’t even his own. It was too smooth and perfect; his fingertips sliding down
as though he was made of ice. Sanzo tone one shuddering breath, then another in
an attempt to calm himself down. It didn’t really work. Not now, when he should
have been covered in bruises. Sanzo clenched his eyes closed, bitterly reminded
that the only real injuries he had sustained were caused below the neck. His
pretty face had saved him once again.
Sanzo
hed hed himself in the jaw with his right fist, as hard as possible. His cheek
went numb and tingled something fierce, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough
to stop the pain that was starting to encircle his heart and pierce into the
organ. He couldn’t live like this, couldn’t function if he looked like some
adolescent virgin ripe for the taking. Never again. S dug dug his fingernails
underneath his eye, into the soft flesh above his bottom lashes; trying to scar
his goddamn pretty face.
His
fingernails weren’t enough to do the job, smooth and round edges doing nothing
more than leaving bright red lines down his face. Kanzeon Bosatsu had even made
his nails hard a smooth, instead of the usual ragged and flexible edges from
too much nicotine and little else. Sanzo tried to press down harder, but it
wasn’t enough to tear his skin. Red lines blossomed down underneath his eye,
but it didn’t counter the indignity and horror that Sanzo couldn’t forget. It
wasn’t excruciating, not painful enough to soothe him, not yet.
He slammed
both palms down on the counter, hunching over the sink as he suddenly found it
incredibly hard to breathe. He wouldn’t lose control, wouldn’t
pathetic. It didn’t matter what had happened, because it was still just his
body in the end. This time was no different than any other when a youkai
He wasn’t going to break because he’d been beaten within an inch of his life by
a clan of youkai, then by Goku.
Not because
some youkai had stuck a meaningless piece of flesh between his legs.
Repeatedly.
Not
because that one had painted him
while it happened.
Sanzo
shuddered and breath escaped his mouth in a gasping choke as he grabbed at his own
shoulders, trying very hard not to fall completely apart as images hit the back
of his eyes, no matter if they were closed or open. That painting… that
hurt, a simple, meaningless, and worthless emotion manifesting into physical
pain. He didn’t want to remember what had happened now, after he had shot the
youkai responsible. Sanzo simply wanted to fucking forget the face he could
recall perfectly no matter how many times the demons had hit him in the head. Clear
blue eyes like a bird of prey’s in their ferocity and concentration; always
staring at him, stripping Sanzo down past his flesh to his very soul.
He heard
the sound a paint brush echoing in his ears, or was it the rain?
leaned in close to the large canvas next to the bed.
reflection as he was suddenly lost to images that weren’t happening then or
there. He could still even smell the youkai and the faint paint fumes from that
night he had lost all memory of. That night where what he had feared so much
had really happened. They had raped him, not just that one youkai responsible
for that disgusting, goddamn painting, but all the lackeys he had mount up on
Sanzo as well so he could have a live model. Sanzo bit his lip at the suddenly
memory, trying very hard not to fall to the floor and start screaming in
complete abandon.
of threat he could think of, spitting in their faces and sending bloody murder
out through his eyes, because there wasn’t anything else he could do lashed
down to the bed like cattle stretched out for slaughter.
They were foolish
enough to leave his legs free, but it was already bad enough with his wrists
lashed to opposite bedposts almost in a mockery of a crucifixion. The blue-eyed
youkai had directed his minions to tie him down artistically with silk,
mistaking Sanzo’s pretty face for a sign of delicacy. He had allowed it,
because it created a chance if the need be. No need to be hasty when the youkai
hadn’t really done anything worse than give him the beating of his life.
first youkai approached the bed while it undid its pants, finally realizing
just what they meant to do with him. He punched the youkai hard in the mouth
and a resounding crack was followed by the broken, shattered bits of the
youkai’s oversized teeth hitting the floor. The blow was hell on his bruised
sides and sent his brain spinning around inside his skull, but Sanzo still
managing to get his legs underneath him, albeit a touch shakily. He would
be taken advantage. No fucking way.
the floor swimming underneath his eyes. The sound of water dripping out from
the faucet echoed in his ears while everything else churned and refused to
focus. He curled his fingers against the cold tile, desperately trying to hold
onto that little bit of reality instead of slipping further into his mind. He
didn’t want to remember all of a sudden, forgetting how much he hated not
knowing what had happened. He didn’t want
the memory back, panic flaring up in his stomach like a monster finally unleashed.
Sanzo bit his tongue hard to keep from crying out, the sharp tang of blood not
enough to center him. It was reminiscent of the pain he should be in, but Kanzeon Bosatsu had already taken care of that.
his arm wrapped around his side and took a step forward with the whole world
spinning and waving around him… Before a different youkai was on him just his
luck to be one of the larger and stupider ones. Sanzo was in no shape to dodge
and couldn’t even manage a decent guard. He got two more broken ribs and a
punch that made his intestines harden up unbearably, but the youkai knew well
enough not to hit Sanzo’s face. It was humiliating to be treated so, but he
couldn’t do much about it when he just trying to keep broken bones from
piercing his lungs. It had taken two youkai to drag him back toward the bed as
he struggled, the mother-fucking ‘artistic’ leader watching impatiently.
the wounds on his back that Sanzo had momentarily been able to ignore in favor
of worse hurts. His back- his goddamn back had been sliced open like meat in a
butcher shop, and now the youkai were grinding raw flesh into the sheets
underneath him. The stinging, electrified pain was enough to overwhelm him, his
eyesight fading into wavy grey fog…
that dug into his skin sharply, by far much thicker and stronger than the last.
That didn’t mean Sanzo didn’t stop struggling in the slightest. He still had
two loose legs which he took all advantage of, kicking out hard when a new
demon put a hand on his bare thigh.
time, almost taller than Sanzo and certainly bigger with thick muscle. The
youkai had hair white as snow and his skin was almost as pale as Sanzo’s, the
only color on the demon in his red eyes. It might have been an albino, but
Sanzo didn’t have much more time to think about it when the demon moved between
his legs. Sanzo started to kick out, trying his best to get the youkai in the
side of the head as he tried to fight of the panic that was starting to build
up inexplicably in his throat.
and punched the side of his knee hard with his other fist. It felt like the
youkai had dropped a rock on his leg. A large and wet crack followed, surely
signaling the joint breaking. It felt like it: explosive smarting that laced
out to the tips of his toes and up to his hip until his stomach tightened.
Sanzo didn’t cry out, not about to give them that tiny little fucking bit of
satisfaction, but the leg flopped down to the bed in complete uselessness,
spasming beyond his control. It still didn’t matter how much he didn’t want it,
tied down naked to bed with no gun, no sutra, only his mediocre human strength
compared with that of a youkai’s.
and coughing but doing little more than making spit hit tloorloor between his
hands spread out flat on the tile. There wasn’t much to come up, not with his
fickle appetite and avoidance of sharing meals. He couldn’t stand the thought
of anyone watching him opening his mouth to eat, now more than ever, and as
this new memory assaulted, Sanzo knew damn well why. He didn’t merely want
people to stop looking at him, he wanted to die and drop dead on the spot
instead of even thinking of Goku, Gojyo, or Hakkai so much as glancing at him.
woulwould he be able to look down on them when they had seen that atrocity
which he had been the model for?
No matter
how much it had hurt, no matter what those youkai had tried to do to break his
spirit, he should have been able to fight back more. Had he been so panicked
that he even forgot about the sutra? Ridiculous!
Genjo Sanzo did not lose his calm like that, not even tied naked to a bed with
impending rape. In retrospect, he couldn’t believe how feeble and incoherent
his struggles had been; like that of a child’s. He should have been able to do
more. He should have been able to fucking something.
black-haired youkai that was watching it all called out, clearly frustrated
with Sanzo’s struggling. It was holding up a wooden palette in its hand with a
brush at the ready in the other, waiting for Sanzo to get in the damned ‘right’
position, he supposed. Sanzo didn’t know if he could bear it. He could tell
himself it was just his body and all he had to do was live through it. If he
could do that, he could kill them later. He could tell himself that, but the
fact was the bed was surrounded by slavering youkai that were eagerly waiting a
turn or some few already touching themselves in obvious excitement and a
deranged artist. A
that. It was almost enough to make Sanzo puke, but he wasn’t about to debase
himself any further. He didn’t want this audience of fucking animals to see his
shame, not some dirty youkai that didn’t even deserve the grace of being alive
if they were going to try to take him like animals in heat.
grinned and reached down to free his own member from his pants. Sanzo stared in
profound horror at the demon’s thin penis, reminding Sanzo of a worm as it
twitched and wrinkled skin contracted. The youkai spat in its open palm and
reached down to stroke itself; calling forth an erection that was terrifying
because of the obvious intent. Sanzo thought he might even be able to take such
a small dick, but he shouldn’t even have to
threatened to eat away at all senses at the prospect of having something shoved
up his ass. He refused to be fucked in room full of demons eagerly watching,
some already pounding their meat at the mere sight of him about to be
dishonored in the most physical and intimate of ways. Sanzo bit down on the
thought of virginity and his chastity before such an appalling fear could come
into the picture as well. He was Genjo Sanzo, after all. Youkai simply didn’t
tie him down to beds to rape and paint him while it happened.
that he couldn’t even hold himself up anymore. Sanzo rolled away from the
little puddle of spittle he’d made on the floor, unable to even stand up as
memory assaulted him. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He shouldn’t
have been scared about something so pathetic as his ‘first time.’ The monastery
had held as much carnal interest as a desert, and Sanzo had never given thought
to sex. He’d never even found a woman that was remotely desirable enough to
bed, and usually just ignored the other members of the same sex. In fact, he
ignored anyone. He didn’t want love,
didn’t give a fuck about his virginity, which probably would have stayed with
him the rest of life...Except the youkai had stolen that choice away from him. That
was what made him sick and weak with rage.
and threw his legs up around the youkai’s shoulders, locking his ankles
together behind its head. He started squeezing as hard as possible, choking the
youkai as it gurgled and clawed at his calves with sharp nails. He ignored
every nerve hardening up on his legs, the blood that started to leak down his
calves; ignored his back which was threatening to burstn frn from the claw
marks. Sanzo gritted his teeth, concentrating solely on suffocating the life
out of this piece of shit instead of letting the pain overwhelm him.
to pry Sanzo’s legs apart, and for a moment he thought he might be succeeding
in killing the bastard. Then, warm hands grasped his hips and yanked Sanzo’s
body down to its groin so hard that the bedposts creaked and blood started to
ooze down his wrists. He had the time to start a curse, and ended up wheezing
out dead air as the youkai put the unfamiliar weight of an erection against Sanzo’s
ass in a moment of blind fumbling- before everything went white.
before.
something as small as him to fit whatever the youkai was trying to shove in. There
was no time to cope with the invasion that wasn’t nearly slow enough for
muscles to adjust even as his whole body clenched up in attempt to expel the
foreign object. He squirmed up on the bed, blood-soaked sheets bunching up
underneath him as he just tried to get away. The youkai grunted, got up on its
knees and clamped two hands down on the top of Sanzo’s thighs to keep his legs
on the demon’s shoulders.
was blood as the youkai managed to get past the final bit of resistance. He
shook, weak with the absolute, mind-numbing pain as the demon stayed there, a
huge dick shoved up against his bladder and stomach. It felt like all his
organs were being crushed up through his throat, enough that involuntary tears
traced down his face, but he still refused to scream. He had to bite down on his
tongue between both set of teeth, but he wouldn’t lose that little bit of
stubborn pride.
when the youkai started to move back and in again, slowly as Sanzo’s stubborn
body kept trying to push the intruder out. Blood wasn’t making a fair
lubricant, but his cries spurred the youkai on despite the simple struggle to
get its penis to fit back inside his very small, mauled, and bleeding anus. The
tempo was picking up, like the youkai was going to hammer in a new spine through
his ass, and Sanzo shook his head and struggled harder. Blood was painting down
his arms now as he ropes cut into his wrists.
youkai ordered as it bent down close to the canvas and started working with
fanatical energy. A sharp pang of mortification over that simple order: the
disregard for him, the youkai giving him the same meaning so much as a piece of
paper. It hurt even worse then what was happening to his body. Wounds of any
type would heal eventually, even if it felt like the youkai was trying to slam
a new spine into him, but pride was a thing that Sanzo clung to tenaciously. It
was the only thing that he could believe in.
Sanzo was
shuddering so hard on the floor that he didn’t even realize he was invoking the
gods’ name when he usually did his best to not give a damn. The humiliation was
unspeakable, words failing to cover how plain dirty he felt. It was worse than
the first few days after Komyou had died, when Sanzo hadn’t be able to move out
of his depression to even wash the blood off. He bit down hard on the urge to
scream, so damn angry that things had
turned out like this. He couldn’t bear the shame. What was his pride worth
Sanzo
reached up with a fumbling hand, his fingertips eventually touching the top of
the counter. He pulled himself up off the floor and planted both hands out of
the counter to steady himself. His damn knees tried to give out on him again,
shaking like a newborn animal learning how to walk for the first time. When the
fuck had it become like this? He
couldn’t remember a time before when he had felt so damn weak, never more aware
of how utterly alone he was in this pain. He couldn’t imagine talking to the
others anyways, and what would they know of being held down and raped in front
of a youkai audience with a perverted painter jacking off in the corner behind
that fucking canvas?!
He punched
the top of the counter hard enough once, his knuckles bruising and sending a
numbing tingle up to his elbow, but it wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough damage
to cover up the horror of what had really happened; only emptiness that seemed
to be taking over his whole body. His punched the hard stone again, repeatedly,
trying to get his fist to finally break and shatter into a thousand fucking
little pieces, just like he was. Sanzo didn’t even realize he had split his
knuckles until there was a splattering of red on the counter that was getting
bigger with each hit.
Sanzo
paused at that, looking up to glare at the reflection in the mirror while his
arm trembled in shock. A thin, blonde, weak, little shit stared right back at
him. Why if he have to be born with this cursed face? If he had been a typical
bald and fat monk, he might have even gotten away with a quick death. Instead,
he survived with the help of a few miracles… survived to feel the whole and complete
indignity of what he had been through. He wondered for a moment if he might
fall to the floor again as his legs shook, hoping with all of his meager,
little heart that he wouldn’t be assaulted by another memory. He could very
well figure out what had happened from that point on.
The mirror
swam in his vision and Sanzo thought for a moment he really might fall despite
his wishes. Then, his eyes hit on the razor resting on the edge of the sink.
Simple little piece of plastic with reasonably sharp blades at the end. It even
looked new. Sanzo reached out for the razor, his hand reasonably steady as he
picked it up and looked back at his shitty, pretty face. A swelling cheek and
red lines underneath one eye weren’t enough to blemish his striking features.
He could
fix that soon enough, holding up the blade to his face.
*
Gojyo
didn’t like the way things were turning out at all. Oh, he wasn’t about to
complain that a Goddess had come down and saved Sanzo from sure death and
sealed up Goku’s youkai power again, because he and Hakkai certainly hadn’t
been managing on his own. If he could consider the deity a Goddess anymore
after seeing the impressive endowment between her legs… Kanzeon Bosatsu had
taken the time to heal Sanzo one hundred percent and than some by the untouched
skin and actual color in that usual corpse-white face, even if Sanzo had been
unconscious.
He hadn’t
wanted to even go near Sanzo after
that damn Goddess had told him, humiliated all the way down to his toes that
she had the audacity to tell him to stick to Sanzo hard. He had almost been
ready to sob out loud with gratitude when Hakkai ordered him to take Goku. He’d
thrown the ape roughly in the back of the Jeep once they had gotten outside,
saving the other backseat since Sanzo was still just too weak and recovering to
be settled anywhere else than his other front seat. Funny how they could still
think of Sanzo as being hurt and fragile even though Kanzeon Bosatsu had healed
him to an unnerving degree.
Still,
while Hakkai had loaded Sanzo up into the front seat, Gojyo had turned back
with his lighter out. The place was old and dry, ready to go up in a second
despite the heavy coat of snow on the roof. He lit anything that look like it
might take up a spark in the entry room and ode ode on the porch. Hakkai had
only watched on quietly, no words given as Gojyo climbed into the back of the
jeep. And they had driven off in silence just like that with the mansion starting
to smoke heavily behind. Gojyo hoped it would burn down to the very last ash.
They had
come back into the hotel in silence and Gojyo had grabbed Goku up like a
starving man reaching for food. He was most certainly not going to end up fucking
someone just because some Goddess with a dick
ordered him to. Hakkai seemed to agree, silently picking up Sanzo with a
strength that belied his small form as Jeep transformed back into his more
compact dragon form. So, they returned to the inn in a very uncomfortable
silence as Hakkai politely asked for fresh clothes and some aspirin from the
front desk over Sanzo’s unconscious form in his arms. Gojyo ignored the other
man and took Goku upstairs to the other room they had reserved, escaping into
the bedroom before he could even get stuck in the single bed with Sanzo next
door. No fucking way, not after what Kanzeon Bosatsu had said.
Gojyo even
had enough time to start a cigarette after tucking the ape into bed before
Hakkai had come knocking to interrupt his thoughts. The man silently offered a
bottle of painkillers which Gojyo greedily took and swallowed four without any
water. Hopey, iy, it would help the ache in the back of his neck and all along
his sides from that stupid ape throwing him around like a new toy. Hakkai had
remained silent for a while, which Gojyo was grateful for. He didn’t want to be
alone with his thoughts, but he most certainly did not want to get involved
with Sanzo in anyway. Why had that bitch of mercy planted that idea in his mind?
Gojyo was about to run screaming at the thought of going to bed with Sanzo in
an entirely different way than simply sharing a mattress. He bet Sanzo would
bite.
Hell, he
could lay money on it.
“Gojyo,
could you watch Sanzo while I take a shower? I’ll stay with him tonight after
that,” Hakkai had asked in almost begging way, like a lost puppy in the rain
looking for an owner. Gojyo couldn’t even say a word after that, pretty sure
that it was another act with Hakkai, but understanding that the man probably
did want to get clean after today. He just stood up and walked out the door
without a sound, too preoccupied with a sudden dread as he walked out the door
and into Sanzo’s own. Gojyo even hesitated over closing the door, wondering for
a moment if he really did want to be in an enclosed room with the priest right
now.
Gojyo shook
his head, not about to be scared of an unconscious monk. He closed the door and
found the table in the middle of the room covered with a fair amount of bottles
of hard liquor. Gojyo had raised an eyebrow at that, not so sure if they were
meant for when Sanzo woke up, or if Hakkai was trying to go along with Kanzeon
Bosatsu as well. But, Hakkai couldn’t possibly be agreeing with that bitch! Hakkai
knew better than anyone that Gojyo would rather drive nails through his palms
before mounting Sanzo. That pretty face wasn’t enough, would never
attitude underneath. Gojyo, despite contrary belief, did like a little
personality to the countless bed partners he had had over the years.
He took a
seat at the table, glancing over at the motionless blonde head on the pillows.
Why the hell did Kanzeon Bosatsu have to say
something like that, plant a little bit of doubt in his mind to whether it
was a bad idea or not? Gojyo shook his head fiercely at that and opened up one
of the bottle just to stop the thoughts from drifting in that direction. He
liked women, full breasts, big red lips, and fleshy hips. Sanzo had a dick and
a tight set of pale lips that spat out the most incredible curses. He was
skinny as a rail too, like a kid who hadn’t quite hit puberty, but if Gojyo
ever made the mistake of weight making a difference, Sanzo would always prove
different. Gojyo had his own amount of scars from that asshole and would have
beaten the shitty monk into the ground long ago if Hakkai and Goku didn’t get
in the way all the time.
Thunder
rolled and Gojyo looked outside to the see a sky much darker than he had
thought it would be, heavy clouds that were flashing with lightning. The wind
was howling, making Gojyo wonder how he had missed this storm coming in.
The
cigarette burned all the way down to the end and half a bottle of whiskey was
gone before Gojyo finally decided that Hakkai had been given more than enough
time to finish up with the shower. He capped the bottle and walked toward the
door slowly, unable to help a look back at the still figure on the bed. Sanzo
didn’t interest him in the slightest, unless it was to beat the utter crap out
of the snobby little son of a bitch. Gojyo was almost glad that the monk was
laid out in a bed again; quiet: the only way Gojyo could stand the man.
Because, if
Sanzo wasn’t unconscious in a bed right now, he would have been dead ten times
over. Gojyo shook his head and turned the doorknob to go find Hakkai. He didn’t
want to have these sorts of thoughts, not when he was already starting to feel
drunk. He pushed against the door when it stuck for a moment, and then found himself
throwing his body against it when the door refused to even budge. He heard
something on the outside scrape but nothing moved. Gojyo slammed his fist
against the wood in frustration, realizing that he was stuck in this room.
Just when
he thought Hakkai had for once been on his side and knew that he did not want
to follow through with this divine command. Gojyo shook the knob and threw his
weight against it one more time, wondering just what the hell Hakkai had done
to the door. Stubbornly, Gojyo kicked the door and growled. Maybe it hadn’t
been Hakkai or all, but that damn Kanzeon Bosatsu again. He couldn’t be sure of
anything right now. All he knew was that this was putting a severe damper on
his plan to avoid Sanzo like the plague. Now he was stuck back in the room with
the monk.
Gojyo went
over to the window and grimaced at the downpour that was suddenly coming down,
heavier than the last storms. He could even make out pieces of hail that hit
hard against the glass. He could escape out the window, depending on how much
he wanted to tempt fate on the way down the roof to the first floor. The storm
looked fit to kill anyone foolish enough to stumble out there. Gojyo grimaced,
looking over the particularly ominous lump in the bed.
Welt
wt
wasn’t like Sanzo was going to jump out of the bed anytime soon. As long as he
stayed a good distance away from that corner of the room, he really didn’t have
anything to worry about! Gojyo could certainly control himself, and he was
idea of actually wanting Sanzo. Gojyo would lay money on the monk being hard as
rocks inside and out, stomping back to the table and snatching up the bottle he
hadn’t finished yet before falling into the seat he had left only seconds ago.
If that Goddess
thought she was going to force Gojyo into fucking High Priest Genjo Sanzo, that
bitch had another thing coming. Gojyo wasn’t about to bed anyone against his
will or theirs; and he was more than certain that Sanzo didn’t want any man
coming around him with such ideas. He had already shot other such foolish
villagers or large idiots they passed along the way who made the mistake of
thinking or treating Sanzo like a woman. Just because he was thin didn’t mean
he wasn’t ready to tear someone’s head off at the drop of a coin.
Gojyo
sourly finished the bottle in silence, concentrating on other things than
unconscious monks with very unique and rare blonde hair. Like women he had had
sex with before, his conquests dotted with a few pretty boys that could do
wonderful things with his mouth when the other gender free to make love was in
scarcantiantity. Sanzo might have a face that could top them all, but the
downward slant of his eyes and tight line of lips made lovely features
contemptuous. And his mouth! Gojyo
couldn’t believe someone who cursed that much could actually have made it to
High Priest. Had the committee that appointed Sanzo been completely deaf?
He moved
onto a bottle of scotch, still not smashed enough for his thoughts to turn
right back around onto Sanzo right now. Damn that Goddess for saying such
things! How was he supposed to even feel comfortable around that little prick
when he knew that up in Heaven, Kanzeon Bosatsu was watching eagerly in
anticipation? Gojyo grimaced and took a new swig from the bottle, not bothering
with glasses even if there had been some provided. Why did Sanzo have to be
such a disagreeable bastard? If only there had been one ounce of kindness in
the bastard, Gojyo might actually have been considering following through with
Kanzeon Bosatsu’s none-too-vague order.
Maybe
getting drunk was a bad idea if he was actually even thinking of
Gojyo was about to throw the bottle away when Sanzo had shot out of the bed
like he’d been physically ripped out of unconsciousness, panting hard and
staring forward at nothing. Gojyo almost dropped the scotch in surprise but
managed to hold on, pretty damn sure that the monk didn’t even know he was in
the room right now. Gojyo was about to say something to the blonde hen
lightning struck outside the window, calling all of Sanzo’sentiention.
Then, the
monk was out off the bnd hnd headed toward the bathroom before Gojyo could even
wave to the man to let him know that he was in the room. He was sure that Sanzo
would just love hearing that they
were locked in the room together. Gojyo would be damned before telling the
reason why though. The door slammed shut and Gojyo was more than happy to stay
silent. He wasn’t about to draw attention to himself in a shitty situation like
this.
There was silence
while he got halfway down in the bottle of scotch and through two more
cigarettes; fucked up enough to start wondering back to that picture without
cringing away mentally. It had just been too harsh, too ; an; and Sanzo had
gone through it long enough for such painstaking detail come up. At least he
knew that he had burned it before anyone else could see it, at least anyone
living that would go around bragging about Genjo Sanzo being tied down to a
bed. It made Gojyo have to pause in the middle of drinking, disturbingly
furious and having no outlet for it. He wanted to hit something, mostly the
youkai that Goku had already torn into tiny little pieces.
Sanzo was
sure taking his own sweet time in the crapper. Gojyo leaned back to look at the
closed door in curiosity, glancing back at the bed just to make sure that Sanzo
really had gotten up. He wondered if he should check to see if the skinny
asshole had fallen into the toilet or was drowning in the bathtub, with Sanzo’s
luck of late. Then again, Sanzo had probably gone in there for a reason, and
Gojyo was more than willing to give the man his space. He’d already been
through quite enough, so a little more craziness than usual should be expected.
It meant more precious time to himself before Sanzo opened up the door and
started bitching at him for whatever reason the blonde had thought up this
time.
There was
the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh and Gojyo started in his chair, staring
down at his own hands in curiosity for a moment,tty tty sure that he hadn’t
just hit anything. There was nothing else after that, so he dismissed it to the
storm and went back to nursing the scotch as he wrote it off as the storm
outside. He picked up his half-empty pack of cigarettes on the table and
considered another stick while the wind started to blow even harder outside.
Then, Gojyo heard something heavy hit the floor in the bathroom and knew damn
well it wasn’t the fucking weather anymore.
Gojyo stood
up so fast from the table he nearly upset the chair, but suddenly found himself
more preoccupied with concentrating on staying upright rather than trying to
keep furniture from falling over. He was pretty sure that there were no windows
in the bathroom, suddenly cursing himself for not looking just in case they
were attacked, for getting intoxicated enough to make the short distance to the
other room a struggle. Kanzeon Bosatsu was right: that he was failing his duty
to protect Sanzo. It there were youkai going after the High Priest Genjo Sanzo in
the room right now, Gojyo would never forgive himself.
He expected
the door to be locked, but found that it swung open easily underneath his
shaking hand. Sanzo was half-naked, stripped down to the ragged and
bloodstained pajamas, holding a plastic razor his own face, obviously ready to
do a lot fucking worse than a shave. Gojyo could have killed Mei Li for leaving
toiletries for them. Sanzo’s eyes flicked over to him once, new swelling on the
monk’s cheek and red lines blossoming into life starting under his washed-out
eyes. It looked suspiciously like nails. In the bright light of the bathroom,
Gojyo swore that Sanzo actually
looked frightened, trembling with his irises contracted into small pinpoints
surrounded by light lavender
“What the
hell are you doing?” Gojyo demanded as he rushed forward, snatching Sanzo’s
wrist before the monk could do anything to himself. He already had the sinking
suspicious that the blonde was responsible for the fresh bruise coming in on
the side of his face. Sanzo was limp for a moment, as if he was in shock while
Gojyo grabbed the razor out of his limp hand and tossed it somewhere, just away
from Sanzo. The monk was docile for a second longer, like a child caught in the
middle of doing something wrong, and then Gojyo was meant with resistance and a
weak punch to the gut. He grit his teeth and bore it, since Sanzo was still
nowhere near his real strength after being completely being healed by the Goddess
of Mercy only a few hours ago.
“Bastard! Let
me go! Let me go!” Sanzo demanded hoarsely,
his voice as low as a snake’s hiss as he went still and tried to demand Gojyo
to follow his will. He only gripped the limb tighter; sure he was bruising the
smaller man but not about ready to give a fuck. Just what the
mind right now? Gojyo noticed the red knuckles and split skin. Sanzo didn’t
rage, not like this. Not on himself.
“So you can
hit yourself? What the hell is wrong with you?!” Gojyo roared, jerking the
captured arm hard enough to make Sanzo lose his balance for a moment. The man
slammed his free hand against the edge of the sink hard enough to make Gojyo
wince in sympathy for the knuckles…even if he was trying to shake some sense
into the man right now. Sanzo looked up with an expression fit to kill and a
stubborn look in his eyes, now focused enough to show a little bit of violet
around the black circles of his pupils.
“Let. Go.
Now.”
There was
nothing but silence between them, Gojyo not about to let the matter drop as he
glared right back at the selfish priest. The rain pounded on the roof above
their heads as wind hit against the whole inn. The sink was leaking, a fat
heavy drop hitting the porcelain sink every now and then. For a moment, Gojyo
didn’t think that Sanzo was even breathing.
“Please,”
Sanzo uttered softly enough to almost be covered by the roar of the wind and
rain against the building. The shock made Gojyo to loosen his grip unintentionally;
just enough to let Sanzo jerk his hand back and cover the swelling on his
cheek. Sanzo’s eyes dropped back to the ground, not able to meet Gojyo’s gaze. He
stood there without even moving, trying to melt into the floor with hunched
over shoulders.
And Sanzo’s
hand suddenly snapout out from his grip as the monk stepped away as haughtily
as any high-brepoilpoiled brat, curved over his arm like Gojyo had broken it.
how close to the truth he was hitting right now. Damn Kanzeon Bosatsu for
making things complicated. He might have
been able to make it through a night stuck in the same room with Genjo Sanzo
before, but now that Gojyo knew the Gods were waiting on him to give it Sanzo
good…he just didn’t even want to think about the priest right now, nor his
fucked-up outbursts of self-violence!
“Yeah, I know.
I don’t think that’s worse than trying to cut yourself,” Gojyo returned, not
about to let the subject slide by. Sanzo took a deep, shuddering breath,
suddenly tense and his back straight as a board, looking for all the world like
an offended cat.
“I wasn’t
going to, you complete and utter fucking idiot,” Sanzo denied as he stomped a
bare foot on the ground. He had his hands on his hips, obviously not aware of
the loose pants going low enough to show a fair amount of white skin underneath
his bellybutton. Between the distinctive slopes of muscle leading down to their
oh-so-high-andhty hty leader’s groin there wasn’t even the slightest bit of
body hair. Gojyo bit on his lower lip, furiously jerking his gaze up before
Sanzo realized he was staring; and then found it to be a horrible mistake as
his eyes hit two pert, pink nipples. He somehow managed to get past the elegant
swan-curve of Sanzo’s neck to the set of lavender eyes glaring violent death at
him.
“Then, did
you accidentally slip and fall on your fist, too?” Gojyo demanded as he pointed
at Sanzo’s hand still clamped over the swelling bruise. Sanzo opened his mouth
and then clamped it shut, caught without an acidic comment immediately at the
ready for once. His eyes got all hard and he looked away from Gojyo like he had
suddenly ceased to exist in the doorway. Sanzo bent down and picked up his robe
from the floor without another word, clearly avoidihe mhe matter as he pulled
his arms through the white sleeves and wrapped sash around his waist, as prudish
as ever. He went down again for the sutra as well before Gojyo realized it and
snatched the unfolded scripture up before the wrong person could get it. Namely
Sanzo.
“You… What…
Give it the fuck back,” Sanzo sputtered in pure rage, lunging forward to make a
grab for the sutra before Gojyo danced back, just a little bit faster only by
the grace of Sanzo still a bit groggy from being healed by Kanzeon Bosatsu.
Gojyo managed to get it rolled back up into a scroll before Sanzo was on him.
He held the sutra up as high as possible, just like any schoolyard bully. Sanzo
even made an instinctive jump for it before turning red in the face with anger,
realizing that it was too high up for him.
So, Sanzo
slammed a fist into Gojyo’s sternum, forcing him to drop the sutra and wrap two
arms around his sides against the pain. He choked and gagged while Sanzo
slipped the scroll into the folds of his robes, making the Maten Scripture
disappear like a magic trick. Sanzo turned on the heel of his foot and stalked
away while Gojyo wheezed as he finally managed to gain back his breath. Thank
all that was holy that Gojyo had been drunk, or else that punch could have hurt
like hell. As it was, he was good enough to take a seat at the table and
reintroduce himself to the scotch in a bitter silence. He would need a lot of
alcohol to nurse this wounded pride.
How could
he even be having thoughts like this about the monk that deserved a few good
slaps to the face? Sanzo’s eyes slid over Gojyo before sliding over to the door
as he shoved his hands into opposite large sleeves, trying to look solemn as
all hell when Gojyo had caught him in the middle of trying to shave his face
off. He couldn’t understand why Sanzo would want to do that to his features,
good-looking and a degree above handsome no matter how sour he was. Gojyo knew
he had a unique face with strong features and he was damn smug about it. How
could Sanzo not feel the same?
“It’s
locked,” Gojyo offered as Sanzo started over to the door, obviously ready to
get the hell out of his company. Sanzo ignored him and tried it anyways,
shoving his shoulder against the door when it didn’t open. There was a curse as
Sanzo reached inside his robe for the Smith and Wesson.
“Hakkai’s
got your gun, and I think it’s barricaded, so we can’t do shit,” Gojyo advised,
feeling lucky as all hell that Hakkai had decided to take the weapon for the
night, especially after Kanzeon Bosatsu’s announcement. That little bastard had
it all planned out from the beginning, playing matchmaker behind that calm and
polite smile. Gojyo looked out the window, wondering if the Goddess didn’t have
something to do with the weather too. The storm would keep them both from
escaping, but Sanzo got ptioptionally pissed and silent when it rained.
“Why?” Sanzo
snapped out as he slammed down into the chair across from Gojyo, glaring at him
with a look that meant he was not pleased at all. Short sentences were a sign
to how angry the monk was; and Gojyo could tell that one syllable didn’t bode
well for his immediate future.
“Fuck me, I
don’t know,” Gojyo growled out without thinking, and then immediately regretted
his choice of words. Sanzo kept on glaring at him as he reached forward and
started tearing off the top of a tequila bottle; not accepting the answer and
clearly waiting for more. Gotooktook another swallow of the scotch, feeling
like a real ass now. How did Kanzeon Bosatsu expect him to want to have… se---
he couldn’t even mention to act in front of him?
“Hakkai
probably did it to keep you from running out on your own to go kill some more
youkai,” Gojyo grumbled out, thinking fast for an excuse. Sanzo grunted and
seemed to take that for an answer. He unscrewed the cap and tossed it in the
middle of the table, ricocheting against the other bottles before landing.
Sanzo took his first shot of tequila without even bothering with a glass, just
tiled back that strong jaw and startealloallowing like it was water. Gojyo’s
eyebrows shot up as he watched the shitty monk finish off a good fourth of the
bottle before finally pulling his lips away and gasping in satisfaction.
“Are they
all dead?” Sanzo asked finally, his eyes settling on the top of the tequila in
his hand as he let it rest on his thigh.
“Yeah, I’m
pretty sure Goku killed most of them,” Gojyo shrugged, delicately avoiding the
fact that the youkai that didn’t get the mercy of a quick death had likely been
permanently maimed anyways. Sanzo would have taken a little too much joy out of
it than Gojyo would have liked, still half-demon in the end. He wasn’t about to
deny his heritage even if he did usually ended up killing several dozen youkai
in a week while on this damn trip.
“Then Hakkai
doesn’t have to fucking worry,” Sanzo grumbled out as he tossed a glance back
at the window. The wind had gotten stronger, if anything, and it was starting
to hail now as small circles of ice hit the window. There was lightning again
and Sanzo started, outright jumped in his seat before combing a hand through
his hair in an attempt to hide the startlement. Gojyo didn’t comment on Sanzo’s
lack of his usual concealment when the shitty monk was usually about as
emotionally connected as a rock.
“Goku?”
The small
little utterance of the ape’s name was almost enough to make Gojyo fall out of
his chair. He was taken back once again by Sanzo actually giving a fuck about
someone other than himself. Gojyo had to put the bottle in his lap just to look
the monk straight in the eye. There was nothing in those plum-colored irises to
hint to if Sanzo was actually concerned or just curious if the kid was dead or
not.
“He’s
sleeping it off. Kanzeon Bosatsu came down just to put him in his fucking
place,” Gojyo growled with a shrug, still not believing that the God/Goddess of
Mercy had actually come all the way from heaven to save Goku when they hadn’t
even been fighting a big-name demon. Gojyo still didn’t know what to call the
bastard that had been the ringleader of everything that had happened to Sanzo,
just glad that he was dead and pretty sure Sanzo had gotten some satisfaction
out of landing a bullet in the demon’s head. Of course, Goku had gone crazy on
them afterward, so he supposed that had been enough reason for Kanzeon Bosatsu
to intervene.
That didn’t
mean she had to get naked and show off her junk.
It was un-fucking-believable that a Goddess had a dick that almost reached her
knees. Just what the hell was wrong with the world?! Gojyo finished off the
scotch as flashes of Kanzeon Bosatsu kissing him in order to transfer blood to
Sanzo, like the times before when Sanzo had been on the verge of death. Gojyo
couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to have died a half dozen times
and still wake up the next morning, but he didn’t even want to think about it
if it meant getting half as sour of an atte ase as Sanzo had.
“I burned
the painting along with the rest of the place, so there can’t be anything left
alive out there,” Gojyo offered, hoping that the knowledge might be enough to
put Sanzo at ease. He didn’t like seeing the monk like this, so not-Sanzo, but
then again, after all that happened, how could he expect any different? Gojyo
hadn’t wanted that piece of shit that some youkai had taken all the time to
paint being left in even a single strand of canvas, just as much as Sanzo had
to.
Apparently
it was the wrong thing to say, Sanzo suddenly breathing out sharply through his
nose as his eyes fixed on the wall in pure rage. He wasn’t really seeing
anything rightn, Gn, Gojyo supposed, his gaze distance and fixed somewhere else
despite the raw emotion that was in them… Not that a bit of it showed on
Sanzo’s face. The silence stretched out between them, Gojyo too scared to even
take a drink lest he become the focus of Sanzo’s anger.
“Good,”
Sanzo grunted after a moment before lifting up the bottle and hitting the
tequila just as heavily as he had the first time. Sanzo wasn’t showing any
signs of stopping soon either, like he was damn determined to catch up and pass
Gojyo’s one empty bottle and half-finished scotch. Gojyo’s eyebrows shot up,
not sure if it was already the little bit of liquor Sanzo had taken in or if he
actually meant it. Either way, it was strange for Sanzo to say anything at all,
much less have it be ‘good.’
Gojyo
sniffed, not sure where he should continue the conversation from there but
pretty damn sure that Sanzo didn’t want to hear his voice at the time. He went
back to work on the scotch, tilting back the glass as he stared around the neck
at Sanzo. There wasn’t even the slightest wink from the monk as he set down the
tequila quietly, as if to not draw attention to himself. Damn it all, but the
quietness was starting to feel companionable.
“Hakkai?”
Sanzo asked, showing a rare bout of concern for the other people they traveled
with. Gojyo set the second empty bottle down on the table, almost ready to
check Sanzo for a fever.
“Goku gave
him a good hit, but he’s fine,” Gojyo informed Sanzo. He nodded and then was
silent, going back to giving the tequila the unique pleasure of his company.
Gojyo tisked and looked around on the table, certain that there was still
enough hard liquor to make Sanzo even somewhat tolerable. At least now he was
starting to get a fair enough buzz to not want to kill the shitty monk, but he still wanted to give him a good crack
or two. His alcohol tolerance had gotten too high to deal with this right now,
at least with the meager arsenal on the table.
Gojyo
picked out the bottle of gin in the table while Sanzo nursed the rest of his
tequila in a sullen silence with his eyes locked on the door, was trying to
blow it open with the power of his glare alone. His eyes flicked over to the
window, jumping ever so slightly when lightning cracked in the sky, clearly
trying to decide if it would be worth going out in the storm if it meant escape.
Just how much did Sanzo detest him if was thinking about going out in the rain?
“Are you
sure we can’t fucking ram the door open?”
Sanzo asked when he finally got his lips off of the bottle, suddenly
making it sound like they were a team because it suited him at the time.
“Why don’t
you try it with your damn face? Wouldn’t that be a little more efficient?” Gojyo
sneered, wanting to make it clear that he didn’t want to be in the room anymore
than Sanzo did right then. Sanzo’s eyes shrunk down to narrow, dangerously
slits of pure hatred as Gojyo only smiled back smugly, hoping he had hit the
sore spot right on the fucking head.
“Give me a
reason. One more fucking word, just one fucking syllable, and I will
his eyes that meant he wasn’t joking. There wasn’t much to back it up with
except that damn sutra, but Gojyo was pretty confident he could punch Sanzo
right in his acid-spewing mouth before the blonde could try to murder him
barehanded; either way, it wouldn’t be pretty. It wasn’t like Gojyo had
anything better to do when they were locked in a room together, so why not try
poking the bear for some entertainment?
“And then
yourself? Just what the hell is wrong with you?” Gojyo snapped, picking on
Sanzo’s sudden streak of self-destructiveness.
to pay just to see Sanzo’s face pale even further and his lips harden into two
grey lines, all the blood smashed out of his skin.
“Fuck off!
I’ll do as I damn well please,” was the mangled answer punctuated by the empty
tequila bottle flying past Gojyo’s head to shatter against the door behind him.
“Mature,
Sanzo, real fucking smooth,” Gojyo grumbled out as he took a sip from the gin,
slower with the drinking now that he had to be careful about Sanzo trying to
take off his head. Sanzo’s mouth was left hanging open for more threats, but he
suddenly he looked like all the air had been let out, a doll with the strings
cut as he slumped back into the chair in eloquent misery. Gojyo didn’t know
what to say to that either, not about to ask about whatever dark thoughts Sanzo
was starting to indulge in.
Sanzo let
his eyes drift over the table and picked up another bottle of whiskey, sullen
as all hell and not about to say another word. Just one big bundle of pain and
frustration that Gojyo wanted to slap the shit out of half the time. Scratch
that. All the time. Hell, he’d be
doing it right now if he still couldn’t get the image of Sanzo hunched over the
table like a beaten dog, covered in bandages and bruises. Just because he was
all healed on the outside now didn’t mean that the damage was still lingering
inside. They had all seen that… shit the
youkai had put on a canvas. There was serious doubt to Sanzo’s already
questionable sanity after this. Hell, it had thrown Goku into full-blow
berserker. Gojyo was sure Sanzo had to be eaten up inside, even if he didn’t
show it.
The
blonde’s head slumped forward over the neck of the whiskey bottle, silent and
clearly ready to murder anyone that chose to break the quietness. There were no
words that Gojyo could come up with, not sure if he should even be considering
trying to comfort Sanzo. The shitty monk would probably kill him for even
getting depressed. Gojyo was surprised this hadn’t come up earlier, but he was
pretty damn sure that Sanzo hadn’t remembered what had happened until now.
“Goku would
be upset if he knew you were trying to hurt yourself,” Gojyo said quietly as he
pulled out a fresh cigarette and passed it to the priest, trying to think of a
good reason that wouldn’t sound like complete bullshit. Sanzo slowly looked up
from that with eyes dead as a corpse’s, not even reflecting the light from the
bulb above their heads. One pale, washed-out hand reached up and took the cigarette;
each and every knuckle split open and glistening brown-red as the scabs started
to form. Gojyo passed Sanzo a lighter in silence, knowing damn well not to
mention that the monk had probably broken hisd whd while he waited for Sanzo’s
return.
“He’s the
only idiot who gives a fuck,” Sanzo grumbled darkly as the monk light up the
end of his stick and tossed the Zippo back over the bottles covering the table.
Gojyo caught it out of the air while Sanzo started sucking down the cigarette like
a lifeline as well as the alcohol, double-fisting in his depression. Then,
Sanzo choked and started coughing on the smoke like it was the first time he’d
ever smoked. The priest couldn’t even stop the hacking and ended up taking another
long swallow to calm them. Gojyo’s jaw dropped, stunned that the man could
actually have the arrogance to say that out loud, much less actually believe
it.
“You think
Hakkai isn’t worried fucking sick? He’s lost weight in the past week just
trying to look after you, you shitty
monk,” Gojyo half-yelled, stunned that Sanzo could honestly ignore how
concerned Hakkai and Goku were over him. Hakkai was looking stretched out and
strained at the edges, obviously because of Sanzo and the horrible state he had
been in only a few hours ago. It was still a strange miracle to see Sanzo
walking around alive and well, no matter how much he was practically
severely one more time.
“And you?
Are you upset I want to kill myself?
Aren’t you just happy I’m willing to do it, stop the mission without you having
to feel guilty?” Sanzo questioned in a bitter-sweet, mocking voice; looking at
Gojyo leveled with that familiar distaste in his eyes as smoke leaked out from
between his lips. It was Gojyo’s turn to be speechless, his mind going
completely blank when he tried to figure out an answer.
quick about it!
going to be all right
Both were
complete lies, but Gojyo couldn’t even think of what might be in the middle. He
didn’t know what to do when faced with a slightly intoxicated and very
irritable monk as Sanzo sucked hard on the cigarette like it was a lifeline,
his eyes narrowed down to dark little slits as he visible choked again and
suppressed it. Gojyo couldn’t very well tell Sanzo that he was being a pain in
the ass, not when those violet eyes that were trying so hard to be angry and
strong were failing miserably. Behind that glare of utter hatred, Gojyo could
see a glimpsed of someone that was just begging for a little bit of human
comfort.
“I’m sad
you want to hurt yourself,” Gojyo said simply, no eloquent words coming to
mind. Only the simple truth would do here, and it was true. No matter how much
he hated the shitty monk, he had started to get adjusted to the man. It just
wouldn’t be right if Sanzo wasn’t there to curse and bitch as he always did. He
was used to getting yelled at, for
being wrong all the time. Just when
had Sanzo started to think that even that small interaction didn’t mean a
thing?
“I. Don’t.
Care,” Sanzo hissed out in a bitterly cold voice, refusing and dismissing
Gojyo’s small amount of concern within a mere second. He ground his teeth;
trying very hard not to reach across the table and slap Sanzo silly. How could
the bastard still manage to be that cold and relentless when o wao was just
merely trying to keep good company was beyond him. They were locked in the room
together, so why not make the most of it? Once again, Gojyo looked down at the
assorted alcohol that was to be shared between them and decided it still wasn’t
enough. Not enough to be drunk enough to stand this particular shitty monk’s
company.
“That’s too
fucking bad then, I guess,” Gojyo returned, not about to be the one that the
conversation ended on. Sanzo stared back at him with those same eerie eyes that
didn’t even glimmer with the slightest bit of distaste. There was just nothing,
not even a hint of the usual uncaring and disgusted Sanzo. This was something
worse, something deeper than mere hated for all human and youkai kind.
“Nobody
should give a shit,” Sanzo grumbled to himself, a bit of self-depreciation
Gojyo had always suspected coming though. He stabbed out the cigarette on the
table as Gojyo stared down at the speed which he’d finished it off in. Sighing,
Gojyo took another drink as he shook his head at the attitude. The monk was
capable of a surmising amount of loathing, and most of it was directed at
himself. Gojyo couldn’t understand how Sanzo could be so cold anprespressed all
the time; all Hakkai would give him was a vague answer about something
happening in Sanzo’s childhood. It had to do with these damn rainstorms and the
fits of dark depression the priest fell into, along with the weather.
“Hey, the
Gods would have my ass if you died,” Gojyo returned jokingly, trying to break
the mood Sanzo had fallen into. Sanzo peeked up from thp ofp of the tequila
with a small bit of the usual sardonic arch of his eyebrow, eyes narrowing in
pure disgust. It was almost reassuring.
“That’s the
best reason for all of us, huh?” Sanzo asked in a rare of of deep wisdom that
a priest should have, no matter how depressing it was. It was honesty, at least
for him and Sanzo. The priest didn’t give a damn about anyone, so Gojyo had
only ended up getting attached to Goku and Hakkai. There were a few times when
Sanzo would come sulking up like a beaten dog; so tentative about bumming a
cigte tte that Gojyo gave one out of pity before Sanzo would feel any worse. He
could tell how much it galled Sanzo to simply ask someone for the smallest of favors, and could only wonder what
had happened to make the man that way.
“I just don’t
want to see Hakkai and Goku upset,” Gojyo added, not about to let Sanzo get
away with that excuse. A damn good one, Gojyo would have to give him that, but
it wasn’t all the way true. There was a little bit more reason to worry than
holy punishment if Sanzo died. Things certainly wouldn’t be the same, not
without that blonde there to yell, walk over, curse, and put everyone back in
their place. He was used to an angry and bitter Sanzo, not this morose thing
sitting across the table.
“This
doesn’t concern them,” Sanzo started calmly, disregarding the other two like
yesterday’s newspaper. He raised the bottle to his lips and was stopped by
Gojyo’s hand slamming down on the top of the table.
“It fucking
does when you turn masochist on us. I
don’t want to see you trying to slice your damn face off ever again,” Gojyo
roared out, making sure that Sanzo knew right then and there was exactly was
going on. Sanzo may be their unspoken leader, but that didn’t mean he always
got his way; and Gojyo was definitely putting his foot down on this one. Sanzo
glared at him and he returned the look right back. Neither of them even so much
as batted an eye; Gojyo determined not to lose this silent battle of wills and
Sanzo used to winning all the time.
It was
broken by Mother Nature herself: lighting crashing in the window, close enough
to the building to make the floors shake. Sanzo half-jumped out of his chair
before disguising it as a long reach to the other side of the table for the
other scotch. Gojyo didn’t comment as thunder rolled and made the bottle in
Sanzo’s pale hand visibly shake despite a white-knuckled grip around the neck.
The priest sank back down into his chair slowly, doing his best to look like
nothing was wrong.’ Gojyo wasn’t about to be fooled, but he allowed it to go by
without saying anything. He had already said too much, it seemed.
There was
silence after that and Gojyo didn’t feel like breaking it. They were both
thinking their own thoughts, and sometimes no words served best. He finished
off his own bottle in time to Sanzo’s with the rain pounding on roof above
their heads. Gojyo would hope that the shitty priest would start to feel a bit
smashed, because the room was already starting to tilt in the corners for him.
It didn’t really matter though, because the alcohol was starting to work its
magic. Sanzo wasn’t jumping so much at lightning anymore, a sure sign that the
monk was starting to get drunk. He still wasn’t sloshed enough to want to talk,
so Gojyo kept on drinking to keep up with Sanzo while looked around the room in
pure boredom.
Why
couldn’t have been a woman that got locked in the same room with him instead of
a sour-ass monk that would kill him as soon as talk civilly? Sanzo might as
well of had a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign hung on his forehead and a barbed wire fence
around him. He was so unapproachable that it would take nothing short of a
miracle to get them in the same bed together… beyond these few nights where it
had been out of necessity. He wouldn’t tell Sanzo, but it would bug him if the man was gone. Hell, it would make him sad,
just the thought enough to turn his stomach. He had grown just as used to a
paper fan to the head as he had to Goku’s insatiable appetite and Hakkai’s constant
smile.
Gojyo
really couldn’t remember a time before this when he had felt more at home, like
there was a place where he belonged; exactly in the backseat of the jeep as
they went West. Even more so than at home with good old Mom and Bro, than the
few months he had spent alone with Hakkai- those though times had seemed pretty
damn peaceful, despite how much he got beat at cards. He felt better now, able
to fight just about every other day and see people’s joyous faces when they
learned that they could now live without fear. It still all had a bitter tinge
to it though, since he was killing off his father’s kind. Gojyo just hoped that
they would finally get to the land they were headed for, so no more youkai
would have to suffer. Half of them didn’t even know what they were doing; so
far gone into the madness. However, a few too many actually rejoiced in that,
unable to deny the call of demon’s blood and power.
rubbed his chin, wondering about the youkai who went further into the madness
than usual, like the ones that grew wings or were so huge that they might as
well be ogres. It was already fanciful enough calling them demons, but there
really wasn’t a better word to describe youkai whe-
“You… You
don’t think anyone else saw it,
right?” Sanzo interrupted his thoughts in a hushed voice, just barely audible
above the rain and chink of the second empty bottle the monk put down. Gojyo
blinked at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what Sanzo must be
talking about. ‘It’ must mean that piece of shit he’d burned back at the
mansion… that “painting ,” since there wasn’t another word to describe it, even
though Gojyo didn’t think anything with artistic connotation should be attached
to it.
“Just us…
and Goku killed everyone else,” Gojyo gave back, his heart twisting up into a
huge knot in his chest at the question. Just who could live through something
like that? Oh, certainly, if anyone was strong enough to do it, it would be the
number one shitty High Priest Genjo Sanzo in his all of his glory. Assholes
like Sanzo didn’t get licked from everyday beatings from youkai. They did seem
to break down after getting gang-raped and recorded on paper. Gojyo couldn’t
blame him, but felt worthless and ineffective, no words or comfort coming to
mind. Sanzo was the most well-collected person he knew, and now the thin, jaded
man was falling apart.
“Fuck,”
Sanzo whispered out, suddenly clasping his long, slender hands together and
brin the them up to rest against his forehead as he slumped forward over the
table on his elbows. Blonde hair glistened like gold in the glowing light of
the bulb above them, picture perfect pain and embarrassment apparent in every
line of his body. It was times like these Gojyo could understand why Sanzo had
been appointed High Priest. He looked like any suffering saint, a pureness that
Gojyo hadn’ticediced before completely stripped away.
“Fucking
youkai.”
“Just that
one,” Gojyo strangled out before Sanzo could go off on his usual rant of hatred
for all youkai and sincere desire for their mass extermination. Scratch that
thought. Sanzo wasn’t suffering if he could enjoy himself this thoroughly while
insulting half of Gojyo’s family, regardless of if they were demons or not.
“Like the
ones before it? Like all the others that have tried to eat me? I’m damn sick of those animals,” Sanzo snarled back,
shooting out of his chair with pure fury in his eyes. This time, Sanzo was
standing up with clear intention to fight, not because of the thunder scaring
him again. He wanted Gojyo to rise to the challenge, and he was almost too
eager to meet it, ready to pound the little blonde bitch into the ground once
and for all.
“You just
write them all off like that, shithead! There have been some good ones too,”
Gojyo insisted, standing up as well to meet Sanzo head on. He had been a slow
boiling for violence long enough and was more than ready to fight with Sanzo if
the priest wanted to make himself a target. Hakkai and Goku weren’t there to
stop it, no weapons, just fists and words. Gojyo might be far outweighed by
Sanzo when it came to a violent tongue-lashing, but simple size and muscle
would beat that deceptively thin priest any day, martial arts or not.
“Defending
your own kind, now? Typical youkai half-breed,” Sanzo snapped out, eyes blazing
in anger now. This was more like the Sanzo he knew, the single sentence enough
to make Gojyo’s jaw drop open in shock at the audacity.
and vile Sanzo could be at times, always forgetting that the priest lacked a
single shred of humanity. Gojyo was around the table and standing over Sanzo
without another thought,
“Say that
Please,” Gojyo begged as he shook a finger in Sanzo’s face, sure that not even
Hakkai would be able to tell him to just calm down after what Sanzo had said. Hell,
the brunette might even tell him it was all right to give the prejudiced priest
a good one to the face, one even better than what Sanzo had already given
himself.
“You heard
me, you rotten youkai bastard,” Sanzo spat out with a fist of his own heading
at Gojyo’s cheek before he had time to throw one in response to this new
insult. Amazing how Sanzo could always make things worse. Still, the monk was sluggish in his movements, likely more
than a bit tipsy from the drinks, and still recovering for whatever Kanzeon
Bosatsu had done to heal him like brand new. Gojyo caught Sanzo by the wrist,
his own hand seeming huge around Sanzo’s thin arm as he twisted it, digging his
thumb hard into the big, blue vein underneath the joint.
Muscles
popped and bones creaked before Sanzo gave out a small grunt, one that spoke
volumes of how damn uptight the man was. Gojyo’s anger fled, replaced by curiosity
that was mostly fueled from the warm liquor in belly… And a little bit of
wonderment at the sudden shift and relaxation under his thumb. He squeezed his
fingers into Sanzo’s arm experimentally, not to hurt this time, but soothe away
the stiffness underneath his palm. Another grunt, and this time Sanzo started
to tremble slightly beneath his hand almost as if he was an animal never tamed
to the human touch. Gojyo was pretty damn sure this didn’t have anything to do
with the rain anymore. Amazing really, how Sanzo could feel so exquisitely soft
when he was anything but. Sour, bitter, and always unpredictable as Gojyo was
reminded while Sanzo grabbed the front of his shirt with two fists when he let
his hand drop away from the monk.
Sanzo
didn’t say anything, but the pink tip of his tongue peeked out and licked two
full lips, almost luscious and pouting now that he wasn’t frowning. Full lashes
almost completely hid those fucking stunning
violet eyes, and this time the shitty monk wasn’t saying anything to ruin
the moment. Gojyo let the wrist go and shifted his hand up to the shoulder,
cracking the joint as Sanzo’s eyelids fluttered down and struggled to stay
half-open. Maybe that crazy Goddess had… God-
Gojyo’s thoughts paused as he tried to simply forget about seeing the oversized penis underneath what
breasts- Kanzeon Bosatsu hadn’t been too far off the mark when the damn
she-male had told him Sanzo had never had a good time in his life if the blonde
was already shivering almost as if they were back to first night when he had
almost frozen to death.
Lightning
cracked across the window and this time the light bulb above their heads
flickered beforing ing out. There were a few muffled screams from the other
guests through the thin walls at the blackout before thunder rolled loudly
above all other noise, shaking the foundations. The silence that followed was
almost supernatural, even the rain fading away into the background for Sanzo’s
soft, ragged gasp for air. The darkness seemed to smoother every other noise as
he looked down at open and lush lips.
“Shit,”
Gojyo cursed softly as he looked up at the dark bulb above their heads,
wondering if this was some kind of cosmic set-up. Well, he already had one Goddess
that wanted him to show Sanzo a ‘good time,’ and it seemed like even Mother
Nature was on her/his side now. But, how was he supposed to do that with a
person who wouldn’t know happiness if it crawled up and bit him in the ass?
Gojyo was pretty sure Sanzo didn’t even know the meaning of the word
‘pleasure,’ much less what it felt like. There was way too much fucking pressure;
the darkness was almost suffocating now that he was so close to the other man,
unsure if Sanzo could see him squirm
“I remember
it,” Sanzo finally admitted in a low voice only audible because Gojyo was so
close to him right now. He knew that it wasn’t visible in the darkness, but
Gojyo still raised an eyebrow at the man’s vague announcement. At least his night-vision
was good enough to make out the droopy eyes hidden underneath a ragged line of
golden bangs. Sanzo was holding himself incredibly still, violet eyes fixated
beyond the Gojyo to something else, something else that he had a damn good idea
of just what. He had seen the act
painted in agonizing detail on a canvas…before he’d burned it. Just recalling
it made his throat tighten, and Sanzo had been the one who had gone through it.
“I don’t
want you all to know!” Sanzo hissed out painfully before slamming his forehead
against Gojyo’s chest in frustration. He stared down, unable to imagine Sanzo’s
torture and degradation, couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t sound stupid or
banal right now. His arms dropped back down to his sides, useless, unable to
even pat the monk reassuringly on the back. He was damn sure Sanzo wasn’t the
type who would docilely accept Gojyo’s desire to hold the shitty monk tight and
tell him that everything would be okay. Sanzo didn’t care for those sorts of
lies.
But, the
truth was too harsh, too much for even him to get a grip on. Just what could it
be like for Sanzo? Gojyo would bite his tongue off and bleed to deatforefore he
would let that happen… and he was
damn sure Sanzo was the same way. But,
the priest had survived, despite how much it was costing him. That much was
apparent from the swelling on the side of the priest’s face.
Gojyo
wondered what might have happened if he had been a single fucking moment later
in opening that door, just a minute delayed on the road.
it. I can cover my own ass!” Gojyo was pretty sure that Sanzo didn’t even know
he was yelling right now. He was damn certain that the monk didn’t know that there
were tears tracing solitary paths down each cheek, catching a little light from
the storm outside the window and shining like jewels. Who knew Sanzo could look
heartbreakingly beautiful when he just let go and actually felt something for once?
…
beautiful from one look unless it was a goddamn blind man
corrected his own thoughts. It was that damn pretty face that had landed Sanzo
in this whole mess, which had gotten him so badly hurt and humiliated. Those
youkai had striped Sanzo of all of his precious pride, and it was just fucking
blonde hair that still shone dully in the darkness of the room. Gojyo shouldn’t
even been thinking about how it actually felt nice to be to one whom Sanzo was
finally opening up to… even if it was just because they had been trapped
together in the same room. Still, he was sure as all hell that Goku and Hakkai
had never seen Sanzo lose control quite like this before.
“That bastard
kept watching me. I can’t forget
those damn eyes. I’m sick of it!” Sanzo
cried out in the silence of the black-out, burying his face into Gojyo’s shirt.
The fists in his tank-top stretched the fabric out even further and Sanzo tried
to borrow against Gojyo in a tearful, drunken misery. It was like Sanzo was
trying to crawl up and inside him with such violence and desperation in the
monk’s grip. Gojyo was damn sure that
the blonde, not ever one for admitting to weaknesses, hadn’t mean to say so
much; but two solid eights of hard alcohol and than some were enough to break down any tired and stressed High
Priest. Sanzo never made a cheery drunk anyway, much more prone to depression
when he got some alcohol down.
There was a
hitched breath; Gojyo feeling incredibly awkward with Sanzo actually
a tear in years. He realized that probably wasn’t too far from the mark, since
Gojyo hadn’t even seen Sanzo actually cry once, not even when he had been injured
and there were sure as hell to be tears from the pain. Sure, Sanzo got
depressed and melancholy as all hell, but the prick usually managed to still
look numb and untouched on the outside. Gojyo worried at his lower lip with his
teeth and his hands twitched at his sides as he wondered if he should push
Sanzo away. The blonde would probably kill him later just for seeing him like
this.
eventually calm down and they could pretend nothing had happened.
But, there
was no sign of their positions changing. Sanzo was still weeping like a dam
finally broken; Gojyo’s shirt already soggy from the tears. It might have been
out of the complete fucking blue, but he couldn’t remain still much longer when
Sanzo was feeling this bad. Gojyo
closed his eyes, took a breath, and decided to fuck it. Regardless of if he
might get killed or worse later for it, he put his arms around Sanzo’s back and
squeezed him reassuringly, tightly, until the monk had to take a few stumbling
steps just to keep his balance. Sanzo didn’t even pull his head away from
Gojyo’s shirt, just started howling in earnest now, muffled against his chest,
with an agony no human being should have to go though.
keep walking on eggshells around Sanzo. He had enough of tiptoeing around
Sanzo’s shattered pride when it had already been dragged through the mud. They
had all seen what man had been subjected too in a little too much realism for
Gojyo to stomach easily. Gojyo didn’t care of the consequences anymore, because
there was honest to god hurt inside the
priest right now. How could he not be? Sanzo was a prick, through and through,
but he wasn’t inhuman. It had been nothing short of complete bestiality, making
it hard for even him to deny that they were demons. No creature with a shred of
conscious could have done what had been done to Sanzo.
Gojyo
didn’t feel as ridiculous as he thought he would when he gently shushed Sanzo
and rocked slowly from side to side like he was soothing down a small child. It
didn’t even feel weird to be comforting Sanzo, now that he got his mind wrapped
around the fact the usual emotionless asshole was crying. In fact, Gojyo felt
tears stinging at the corner of his eyes as well just because of the sound of
Sanzo choking on his own sobs. It was just like how Dokugakuji used to do for
him after Mother had been murde-died.
Gojyo put his chin down on the top of Sanzo’s silken hair as if he could just
cover and surround the man from ever being hurt again. There was no violent
reaction, no sudden curse and shake-off like Gojyo had expected.
“You saw
me- shoot that… that one, right?”
Sanzo managed to wheeze out between the tears. “You burned it, right?”
Genjo Sanzo
was questioning himself. Tonight seemed to be the first time for everything,
more flying at Gojyo’s face than he could keep up with. Was it really just
because they were locked in the room together, or had Sanzo lost all tolerance
for alcohol along with all the scars and bruises? The thin man was just shaking
in his arms, breaking apart like fine china hitting the floor hard, all the
confidence and arrogance gone without a trace in the dusting explosion. Gojyo
couldn’t blame him after everything he must have gone through, couldn’t really
figure out what kind of comfort he was supposed to give that wouldn’t result in
Sanzo shooting him later. What would Hakkai say?
“It’s all
over,” Gojyo whispered above the quivering, blonde head. He felt a little
daring now, sure that Sanzo was too preoccupied with crying to mind as he
pressed his lips into hair underneath his chin. Hundreds of fine strands felt
like silk underneath his mouth, better than any woman’s that Gojyo had bedded
before. Sanzo certainly was something different as the crying stopped, turning
to a slow freeze as the man became aware of what he was doing. There was stiffness
as Sanzo resumed control of himself; at least enough to finally speak back.
“No, it’s
Sanzo argued, shaking his head against Gojyo’s chest, but not pulling away. At
least, not yet. Gojyo was sure that it would happen as as as Sanzo regained
his senses, but for now the monk simply buried his face against the crook of
Gojyo’s neck in a pitiful attempt to hide his eyes from something that wasn’t
even in the room Imagine the look on people’s faces if they learned a dead
youkai were scaring the shit of High Priest Genjo Sanzo.
Gojyo clamped
his teeth closed helplessly, completely out of his depth. Sanzo wasn’t like any
other person that he could simply hold close and comfort. Sanzo was much, much
more complex than that, and not about to find peace with another person. He
should just let Sanzo lick his wounds in solitude, but Gojyo couldn’t very well
leave Sanzo alone with these memories. Maybe they had been locked in the room
for a reason, since Gojyo couldn’t very well imagine Sanzo confessing this
Hakkai or Goku. Damn Kanzeon Bosatsu for not intervening sooner, before Sanzo
had even wound up in this shitty situation.
“Look at
me,” Gojyo gently ordered in the pitch blackness of the room, sure that Sanzo
couldn’t be able to see nearly as well as he could in the dark with his poor
human eyesight, but knowing that the priest needed to look at someone real and living
right now. He just hoped Sanzo didn’t
kill him late for offering a shoulder to lean on, because the blonde was being
haunted by a youkai that had already gotten a bullet to the head. Sanzo had
seen to that rather ruthlessly, but it didn’t mean that he was any less
frightened. High Priest Genjo Sanzo had post traumatic stress. Now Gojyo was
sure he had seen everything.
Other
people might have whispered behind Sanzo’s back that his downward-sloping eyes
were bad luck, but Gojyo couldn’t thing of anything that was more expressive
when the man’s bowed head slowly bent upwards to meet his gaze. All sorts of
emotions that Sanzo never let touch his face were stirring in half-lidded plum
irises: sadness, confusion, dread, anger. A whole fucking lot of anger. But,
there was honest rawness too, such hurt when Gojyo had begun to doubt if the
shitty monk could really feel anything at all.
“Your eyes
are red,” Sanzo whispered softly, as if finally noticing for the first time.
There was no biting comment about Gojyo’s ancestry following it either, just a
cool hand on the side of his face as Sanzo stared up at him in wonder. There
couldn’t be words anymore as he was assaulted by the sudden sense of shrinking
as Sanzo looked past Gojyo’s eyes, and into his very soul. Gojyo felt worse
than naked, completely bare just because Sanzo’s hand wasn’t letting him look
away. There was no way to escape to vibrant, violet eyes that were seeing a lot
more in black room than Gojyo had given credit.
In the
darkness, Gojyo wasn’t sure who started it first, but they were kissing each
other before he even had time to think. Sanzo’s lips still tasted like bitter
tequila and cigarettes, which didn’t surprise Gojyo much. What did surprise him
was the desperation- no sort of attraction- but raw fear that had turned into
aggression as Sanzo kissed him hard. Gojyo’s mouth felt bruised and he liked
it, letting his hand slide to the back Sanzo’s neck, his fingers combing
through the shockingly fine hair. Sanzo copied the m exc except his hand
grabbed a fistful of hair out of its ponytail and yanked Gojyo down for a
better angle. He let it happen, because Sanzo’s obvious need for control was
more apparent than ever… in the shaking of the hand fisted in his long hair,
the trembling of Sanzo’s lashes as he held them tightly shut, and the sharp
breath the monk sucked through his nose.
Gojyo never
would have imagined that Sanzo’s mouth could be so soft, miles away from the
resistance Gojyo had been expecting. The kiss was good enough that Gojyo forgot
that he hated Sanzo, didn’t even care as the shorter monk pulled out hair. The
lips parted a bit and for the first time, Gojyo got his tongue past Sanzo’s
teeth and into the velvety soft mouth. This was what he had been waiting for
since the first time he’d met the heartbreakingly handsome monk… right before
Sanzo had opened his mouth and Gojyo had discovered that High Priests could
indeed curse like sailors.
thoughts out of his mind with the help of alcohol and the intoxicating taste of
Sanzo’s mouth. Gojyo put his hands on Sanzo’s sides, gathering up some of the
robe to discretely start pulling Sanzo back toward the bed, convntlyntly overlooking
that there would be hell to pay for it later. It wasn’t because Kanzeon Bosatsu
had ordered him to, nor was Hakkai or Goku there to stop this little rush of
madness that Gojyo found quite necessary. Sanzo was just as eager as him, even
though his own tongue was pressed flat against the bottom of his mouth while
Gojyo tried to deepen the kiss.
Sanzo’s fine-boned
hands on Gojyo’s shoulders turned into fists buried in his shirt as the
priest’s knees hit the back of bed, dragging him down along with the blonde.
Gojyo into awareness as Sanzo tugged at his shirt; already had the tank top up
over his head and tossed somewhere to the floor. Gojyo hadn’t forgotten what he
had seen, and by all means was going to be damn sure that Sanzo wanted this at the
priest’s itenttent tugging before Gojyo realized there were a set of unfamiliar
and very cold hands on the fly to his pants.
Desperate
and drunk actions, nothing thought out in the slightest.
“Hey, just…
wait a damn second!” Gojyo managed to regain enough sense to yell out as he
grabbed Sanzo’s shoulders and tried to pull the monk away from his crotch. He
wasn’t going to just go along with
Sanzo’s oh-so-sudden willingness to get laid after Kanzeon Bosatsu had ordered
them to do it. Gojyo wasn’t going to jump around at anyone’s orders, no matter
what. This was probably some trick of the Goddess’s, right down to the strange
blackout and the fucking tornado happening outside.
“Why?! You
have se- make… love… to
through,” Sanzo snapped, a slight blush gracing his cheeks as veered away from saying
‘sex’ around him…just the same as he. Gojyo couldn’t help a bit of a grin that
snuck up at the edges of his mouth, realizing that he had a little more in
common with the shitty monk then he first had thought. He slowly started to
move off the priest, feeling like quite the asshole right now, but he was stuck
in this room with one that was twice as worse as him. Sanzo could still wind up
out of his depth and stutter over dirty words just like anyone else, though
Gojyo had always assumed that Sanzo was a master of foul language. He could get
unnerved, just like the rest of them.
They both
sat up on the edge of the mattress at the same time, awkward and silent after
that outburst. Gojyo planted his own feet on the floor, Sanzo’s legs not quite reaching
the ground as his toes swung lazily back and forth above the floor, just like a
kid. He really was in some places, from that stuck-up, pompous attitude to his
incredible lack of human sympathy. Gojyo
sighed and wiped his mouth with his palm, desperately trying to forget the
pressure of Sanzo’s lips and the downright fucking erotic way the shitty priest
clenched his eyes closed. He let his hands drop down between his legs, his
zipper undone but his pants still somewhat on his hips, while Sanzo didn’t even
so much as glance in his general fucking direction.
“What’s it
like?” Sanzo asked quietly enough that Gojyo almost didn’t hear it, even with
his sensitive ears. He turned to catch the monk’s profile as Sanzo stared down
at his lap, confusion in his usually determined eyes. Why couldn’t the bastard
ask an easy question right now? Sanzo always managed to drop a bomb on his head
time and time again as he looked up for Gojyo’s answer. He jerked his gaze away
as if he’d been caught in the middle of peeking, no longer sure how far that
was from the case. Sanzo was baring his soul, desperate for an answer that Gojyo
didn’t know if figure out in several sentences or less.
“All I’ve
got is… that,” the blonde spat out
bitterly when Gojyo took to long to respond, his legs going still and his
shoulders hunching over. Gojyo was pretty damn sure that he wasn’t look at
anything in the room right now. Kanzeon Bosatsu
had been right when she told him that the shitty High Priest hadn’t ever had
sex before those youkai- shit, probably never even been kissed with that sour
mouth. What was he supposed to say Sanzo now? It was already hard enough trying
to treat him like nothing had happened; because comfort would insult Sanzo even
worse than what had caused the injuries. He worried at his bottom lip for a
moment, knowing that somewhere deep down Sanzo was human after all. Memories
could really be a bitch, and Gojyo could tell by the bead of sweat going down
the side of Sanzo’s face that these were particular bad ones.
He put a hand
on Sanzo’s shoulder, offering companionship, or at least the comfort of another
human being when he could see that the man needed it particularly badly right
now. There was a disapproving grunt as Sanzo looked resolutely at the corner in
an obvious attempt to ignore him, the rain outside the window, that goddamn
bitch was really hurting...in short, everything. Gojyo was half-surprised when
the priest didn’t immediately jerk away at the contact, taking that as a sign to
try and push things a little further.
all, Gojyo squeezed the bony shoulder again and felt everything rotate underneath his fingers, joints and hard spots of
tension cracking loudly. He had yet to run across a person that could resist a
good massage, and he doubted that Sanzo ever let anyone do this before. He
wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the storm, or somehow Kanzeon Bosatsu’s
doing…but, either way, it was a fine opportunity that he wasn’t going to pass
up. Gojyo was a lot fucking smarter than that, and knew very well from
experience that Sanzo would never be so willing again. Hell, Gojyo didn’t think
he would ever see Sanzo cry again, not after tonight. The bastard had too much
pride for that.
There was a
noise that was close to a purr of contentment, but in the darkness Gojyo didn’t
know if it was Sanzo or just the creaking walls of this shit hole. He worked
his fingers into tight muscles that had obviously never been touched by another
human being before, and only after a few more seconds of the treatment Sanzo
started going limp and relaxed helplessly. The priest was surprisingly
sensitive through the robe, flesh twitching and jerking underneath Gojyo’s
hands, though he was still keeping the pressure light. All the frigid, cold
aloofness was gone without a trace as the blonde actually groaned in pleasure
when Gojyo’s thumb dug into a spot underneath the shoulder bone. Even High
Priest Genjo Sanzo couldn’t withstand a good massage in complete silence.
It might
have been because Gojyo worked his thumbs into knotted spine, but Sanzo didn’t
so much as bat an eye when he put his lips against the milky-white curve of the
monk’s neck. His skin was soft and smooth, so pliant when Gojyo pressed harder
and grazed the bottom of his teeth against the blonde’s collarbone, not sure if
he dared to leave a mark. Sanzo moaned heavily again at the ministrations,
absolutely delicious as he squirmed against Gojyo’s palms to guide them to
areas that were sorer than others. Sanzo proved to be just as demanding and
eager for more, so Gojyo didn’t feel guilty as he started to suck hard enough
to leave a welt for tomorrow morning…just a little bit of proof that this
wasn’t some liquor-induced fantasy.
He pulled
Sanzo up against his back, the scrawny body amazing limp and complying as Gojyo
let one of his hands slip down from Sanzo’s shoulder to the front of the man’s
chest. He pushed past the sagging opening of the robe and brushed fingers up
against a nipple that was alr puc puckered and hard from the cold…or Gojyo’s
administrations. Sanzo twisted his head around at that, his mouth open for some
kind of insult, but he cut off whatever it might be with a kiss pressed against
the other man’s. Sanzo shuddered, his teeth clenched hard behind his lips
despite his earlier words.
Gojyo kept
working at it, thumbing the pert nipple, sucking on Sanzo’s lower hip, until
the jaw finally relaxed and Sanzo even started kissing back himself, tentative
as all hell but definite in his movement. Gojyo let his tongue brush against
Sanzo’s lips, damn sure that he shouldn’t try anything bolder until the blonde
was comfortable. A cold hand touched his side as Sanzo reached back, a thumb
hooked in the waistline of Gojyo’s jeans as he tried to find something to hold
on to. Gojyo wondered if he was going to fast, belatedly recalling that it was
probably Sanzo’s first time, at least as a willing member.
Sanzo
suddenly pushed past Gojyo’s tongue with his own, starting to explore the roof
of his mouth much more aggressively than Gojyo would have assumed…but, then
again, how could he have thought any fucking differently? He was dealing with
Gojyo’s pants in an unspoken, but clear demand to speed things up. The massage
was forgotten as Sanzo forced things to go in the exact opposite direction of
what he had been expecting, far from it. Sanzo wanted this to hurry up and out
of Gojyo’s control until the act consumed him, to forget the reality of what
had happened before he could lose his nerve.
Desperation
made Sanzo more attractive than ever. Gojyo could most certainly accommodate the
shitty monk, letting Sanzo have full range of his mouth while his other hand
crept up and grabbed the edge of Sanzo’s loose robe. He began to tug the
offending cloth off, wanting to see Sanzo naked in such a way that made his
loins ache, and was ready to start working on more than just the uncovered
shoulder before Sanzo suddenly jerked his face away from Gojyo and grabbed at
his busy hands with bruising strength.
“Can’t I- keep
it?” Sanzo asked in a paper-thin voice, the blush practically glowing in the
darkness to Gojyo’s sensitive eyes. He wasn’t sure if his eyebrows were still
attached for how they shot up at the small question, never for once even
considering that Sanzo’s sensibilities might be offended by showing off a bit
of skin. Absolutely fucking amazing how the priest could still be modest when
he wore that black, skin-tight, sexy get-up like a second skin. He couldn’t
blame Sanzo for acting this way after everything he’d been through, but it was
a damn selfish move on his part. That certainly put a damper on his plan to see
the full glory of that pale body writhing underneath him when he took Sanzo. Gojyo
sighed as he backed off with the mood effectively ruined, pulling his wrists
out of Sanzo’s grasp slowly.
“Yeah,
fine,” Gojyo grumbled, closing his eyes to hold in the frustration as he had to
sit up on the bed. Why was he so upset about not being bale to get Sanzo naked
when only a few hours ago he would have probably laughed out loud if someone
had told him he was going to have sex with Sanzo? Someone else beyond Kanzeon
Bosatsu, that was. She was probably watching them right now to make sure that
he followed through with her orders. Fuck,
he hated Sanzo so much just because the priest had denied, rejected, declined,
and returned every drunken pass with a severity that wasn’t really called for…but,
that was all a part of the chase. He’d prefer to get into Sanzo’s bed on his
own damn terms, thank you very fucking much.
A
silky-smooth hand brushed Gojyo’s past the curve of his jaw as Sanzo reached over
to let loose the earlier mess he’d made of Gojyo’s ponytail. The familiar
weight of his own hair hit his bare shoulders as Sanzo combed his fingers
though a few random red strands. No comments about being a ‘youkai bastard,’
‘taboo,’ or ‘half-demon,’ just a hint of grief in otherwise emotionless eyes as
Sanzo studied the long hair he was playing with. Gojyo was far from
understanding it, but he indulged Sanzo’s craziness while the monk slowly
leaned in closer to him, as if his hair was the most stunning thing he’d come
across in years.
Gojyo
wasn’t about to be fooled by that bullshit. Sanzo was using it all as an excuse
to come closer and hesitantly press his lips against the side of Gojyo’s Adam’s
apple. Gojyo thought he might really be in heaven as the marvelously soft mouth
opened up around his shoulder…and bit down hard. Gojyo winced and had to clench
his jaw shut to keep from grunting with the mixture of pain and shock. He had
been expecting a lot worse from the monk, certain that Sanzo would be
aggressive. It was just in his nature. Gojyo wondered if he should feel lucky
that he had merely gotten a stinging bite mark instead of a bullet.
That still
didn’t mean that Gojyo was ready to take such treatment passively, rape victim
or not. He let his hands slide down Sanzo’s sides while the priest pressed a
few, butterfly-soft kisses against Gojyo’s shoulder, lapping at the blood that
was starting to well up. Blood was a turn on for the priest. It figured. The sting
was a small price to pay for a distraction as he finally got his hands on top
of Sanzo’s legs, pausing for a moment as he fisted up the fabric of the bloody
pajamas. The shitty monk had enough time for an affronted gasp before he was
left with only the robe and the pants catching over his knees, probably wishing
that he had gotten a pair of underwear earlier.
Gojyo pushed
Sanzo back on the bed with his weight alone, leaning in until the monk fell
flat on the sheets. He used the momentary lack of balance to finish pulling the
pajamas all the way off the monk’s thin, bony ankles. He tossed them far away
from Sanzo and to the other side of the room before climbing on to the mattress,
one knee between slender long legs so white that they practically glowed brighter
than the white of the robe in the relative pitch-blackness of the room. He
wished he could see better in the middle of this damn power outage-
Lightning
flashed outside the window, illuminating the room in a bright blue light with
such miraculously good timing that Gojyo frowned, sure that Kanzeon Bosatsu was
watching them right mow. Even the creepy fact that a Goddess was likely peeping
on them was forgotte the the split-second flash of Sanzo in bright detail
burned onto his memory.
the sheets, a profile that was much more vulnerable and humiliated than Gojyo
would ever think that Sanzo was capable of feeling. Simply seeing emotion on
that beautiful and usually harsh face made the man look like a fallen angel, thin
hands in loose, unresisting fists by his shoulders, his legs spread slightly on
either side of Gojyo’s helplessly. Genjo Sanzo actually was afraid of Gojyo and
what he might do next. He couldn’t ever recall another time when he had seen
anything more fucking gorgeous.
It was even
better than getting the monk to crack his oh-so-much-rarer smile, something
that would just barely grace the corners of the man’s mouth, but his eyes held
all the warmth one needed to know Genjo Sanzo was actually happy.
How was Gojyo
supposed to resist something that was so gut-wrenching stunning, whether it was
male or not? Sanzo laying there in undulated embarrassment as Gojyo finally
noticed the lower folds of his robes riding up to reveal a blushing
half-erection trying to peek out from underneath. The priest might look like he
was ready to start crying again- Gods
forbid that- but at least Gojyo wasn’t the only one feeling aroused. Sanzo
looked better than any other woman at the moment, violet eyes clouding over in mortification
at his own pleasure as he tried to not make eye-contact with Gojyo. It wouldn’t
do to have his little monk already having second thoughts, so Gojyo was quick
to work on making the man think about nothing else but what he was feeling.
Wasn’t that what Sanzo wanted?
He leaned
Sanzo’s own smaller, pale body and started pressing his own lips against the
small ‘v’ of chest shown by the loosening robe. Sanzo put one hand into Gojyo’s
hair again, but the grip hurt too much for it to be a lover’s caress. He
glanced up to see Sanzo’s face twisted up in a dit kit kind of horror, and
Gojyo could tell that Sanzo was clearly struggling just to stay lying down. His
body was completely tense again, as if he was expected violence at any moment.
“Hey, it’s
supposed to feel good,” Gojyo whispered softly, because anything louder seemed
like it would scare Sanzo off completely. He could hear Sanzo grinding his
teeth together even over the howling wind and raitsidtside the window, the fear
and apprsionsion forgotten in favor of anger. Time to bite the bullet that the
priest would put in his skull if he was wrong about this; but, Gojyo certainly
hoped that it was Sanzo’s choice and not his judgment being affected by Kanzeon
Bosatsu. Gojyo might be drunk, but he wasn’t about to be stupid. It would take
a few more drinks before then. Still, it was too late to back out and besides,
good opportunity!
“Fuck you!”
Sanzo snapped back, pissed at the accusation that he was frightened. Gojyo
stared back at violet eyes that were now wide with annoyance, but at least they
were actually focusing on him and not on some distant memory.
“Is that
how you want to do it?” Gojyo asked with a grin, doing his best to piss Sanzo
off.
Sanzo’s look of complete confusion was priceless, in no state to make a
decision right now, already off-balance from the situation and whatever else the
monk might be feeling right now. Then, Sanzo finally realized his words, rolled
his eyes to the floor in acute awkwardness, and the faintest touch of pink
gracing his cheeks. Gojyo decidt wot would be best to end the conversation now,
so he covered Sanzo’s mouth with his own again, wanting to taste that unique
bitter sweetness again. The blonde kissed back after a moment’s hesitation,
desperately trying to grab a hold of events, but being washed away nonetheless.
Gojyo liked to think he had that effect on people.
Trying to
make it as natural as possible for Sanzo’s sake, he reached down between them
and put his hands on the priest’s cock for the first time. He was rewarded with
a jump that almost sent the blonde out of his hands and halfway across the
room, but thankfully his head hit the wall and could no longer go back any
further. Gojyo followed just as quickly, squeezing gently while Sanzo dug long,
delicate fingers into Gojyo’s shoulders and shook his head. Not exactly
coherent, and probably more than a little bit drunk, but Gojyo could swear that
Sanzo actually looked like he was enjoying something for the first time. He
khe whe would feel the same if someone was going to give him his first hand job.
He ran his
thumb down the underside of Sanzo’s erection gently, in a manner that he hoped
would be reassuring for the scared, modest priest. It was a litslicslice of
heaven to hear the monk choke on his own breath and twist around on the sheets
for a moment as his body reacted before the mind. He squeezed Sanzo’s penis,
drawing up a glistening bit of pre-cum on the head while the body underneath
him was rigid as the organ in his hand…probably completely against Sanzo’s will
from the look of outright suffering on his face, but, it was strangely
gratifying to see the blonde look so out of place, not even which sure
direction he ld tld try to struggle away in.
Gojyo let
his mouth roam down to Sanzo’s throat, the open expanse of his pale chest
before the robe restricted any further exploration, all the way down until he
hovered over open groin and weeping erection. Gojyo had been given- and gave-
enough blowjobs to not be uncomfortable, but something about the glaring death
at him made Gojyo think twice. But, Sanzo was making tight fists in the sheets,
his sudden stillness a challenge in itself now that Gojyo was so close to a
rather vulnerable and sensitive area. Sanzo wasn’t about to back out of things
now, that much was for sure from the stubborn look in his eyes and the set line
of his mouth; despite the trembling in his knees.
Gojyo was
damn sure nobody had done was he was about to do before, not in the way it
should have been done. Pity that Sanzo had to be such a prude or he could have
gotten around to this a whole lot earlier, before the priest ever had a reason
to be so damn apprehee. Ie. If only he had taken advantage of the scrawny bitch
being completely trashed last month, when Sanzo wouldn’t have even recognized
his own feet, much less Gojyo trying to do the same thing he was doing now. At
least it was finally happening, and for the first time Gojyo got to put his
mouth over the tip of Sanzo’s cock, tasting velvety skin, slightly musky, but
outright divine.
,” Sanzo’s voice trembled as he
tried to get out a sensible sentence before failing with a breathy, shuddering gasp.
To see Sanzo in such a lack of control was worth any price he’d have pay later,
more of a turn on than the little bit of skin showing over the folds of the
robe. Damn it all to hell. Gojyo wasn’t about to listen to common sense or
Sanzo right now, just concentrated on sucking as best he knew. Slowly, he
loosened up his jaw, ignoring the urge to gag long enough to take Sanzo in all
the way, until Gojyo buried his nose into the tightly curled, golden hair at
the base.
It wasn’uch uch longer before the shitty priest was outright begging him…if Sanzo had been able to speak that clearly. The
blonde was practically mewling at it all, arching his back and curling his toes
up in the sheets, jerking his legs around in the most fantastic of ways. Sanzo
bucked around with a sudden vigor when he had been so docile only seconds ago,
and Gojyo had to put his forearm over the man’s hips to keep himself from being
choked. He started sucking like his life depended on it; his own long hair
pooling around Sanzo’s thighs as Gojyo let his mouth move up and down along the
monk’s whole length.
The monk
cried out at that, not in any sort of coherency now as his head thrashed back
and forth on the pillows. Even
two steps away from an orgasm, Genjo Sanzo was doing his best to not lose
control. Gojyo smiled at the surprising receptiveness; his thin, little priest
overwhelmed by sensation, lips parted slightly as Sanzo struggled to keep his
breathing even. Gojyo used the lightest bit of teeth to scrape the tender skin
as he slowly drew his headk ank and let Sanzo drop out of his mouth. A wet and
inflamed cock bounced around balefully at the sudden lack of treatment before a
hand slapped down against the side of his head, grabbing up hair as Sanzo
forced Gojyo to keep his face close to his groin.
“Don’t…
eyes half-closed with lust and a good amount of distress. Gojyo could guess
what it was taking for the monk just to get say something so borderline to an
actual request. Sanzo didn’t say ‘please,’ much less ask for sexual favors.
Still, leave it to a High Priest to make Gojyo so horny that the pressure
between his legs was actually starting to hurt with only one sentence. Did the
monk even know what he was able to do an ordinary man?
Doing his
best to try and not rip anything, Gojyo hooked his thumbs around the waist of
his jeans and wrestled himself out of them with an urgency he hadn’t felt in
years. He struggled out of the restricting pants and kicked them oo tho the
floor despite Sanzo’s tugging on his head. He didn’t need the priest to tell
him to hurry up, already rushed just to get back to the half-covered, thin body
before him. The mere feeling of his bare legs against Sanzo’s own was almost
enough to send him over the edge, but there was still so much to do, so much
skin that he had left unkissed and untouched.
Gojyo
leaned down over Sanzo, his legs spread open wantonly and a flush on his face
that had nothing to do with the usual irritation, but everything to do with uncontrolled
passion. The fist in his hair tightened when Gojyo went to put his hand around
the weeping erection, still unsure despite the bravado…or, it was because Sanzo
was so close to the edge that Gojyo only needed to brush his fingers against the
red, engorged balls to have the monk spurt all over his lower stomach. Gojyo
raised an eyebrow at that, idly wondering if Sanzo had even tried to masturbate
before, while the blonde merely made a choking noise somewhere between a sob
and what might have been a cry of pleasure. He really couldn’t tell between the
expressions of outright mortification and euphoria waging for dominance on that
usually emotionless face.
Well, Gojyo
wasn’t about to let things end so quickly while Sanzo started to go limp on the
bed, thinking that he could just pass out and pretend this night had never
happened. Gojyo wasn’t about to let him feel bad right in the middis, is, is, before they even got to the best
part. Regret was already in Sanzo’s slanted eyes as the blonde did his best to
surrender to unconsciousness, so Gojyo qui mov moved in to take the monk’s mind
off whatever penitent thoughts he was thinking. Sanzo wasn’t such a willing
kisser after that, his lips hardening up while his tongue pressed flat against
the bottom of his mouth as far away from Gojyo’s play as possible. He didn’t
pay it any mind, figuring it was due to Sanzo already ejaculating and
considering the act signed and sealed. was was a two-way road, a fact that
Gojyo would soon have to educate High Priest Genjo Sanzo on.
Gojyo
shifted a bit, hooking his elbow underneath Sanzo’s knee while he leaned
forward over the monk’s further loosening robe. He moved his mouth away from
the blonde’s unresponsive mouth, giving up on that orifice to suck on Sanzo’s
soft lower earlobe. The shitty monk moaned at that, trying to get out something
thauld uld make sense in the middle of this mess. Gojyo smiled at the
unexpected responsiveness, Sanzo coming back to life to twitch when he used his
free hand to swipe up the mess Sanzo had made of his lower stomach, the
impressive load of sperm having missed the robe by miracle alone.
He rubbed
his fingers together to coat the digits with the makeshift lubricant, sure as
hell having not expected this situation to come prepared with anything else. But
for fuck’s sake, he could use Sanzo’s premature actions to his advantage, not
about to let things turn sour. This was too much like dreams he had before,
everything going so well despite the hesitation and early ending on Sanzo’s
part. So, of course, it was when he put a sticky finger into that sweet, tightly
clenched opening that things turned soured.
Sanzo came
alive with onll-all-aimed knee to the gut before he started struggling
senselessly under Gojyo like a cat thrown in water, his legs kicking out with
enough force to bruise and smart painfully. The monk was screaming out
unintelligibly, not even getting a full curse out, but still managed to make
himself clear enough either way. ‘Back the fuck off’ was written all over the fist that struck the side of Gojyo’s
temple, throwing him off as Sanzo scrambled up on the bed until his back slammed
up against the headboard, unable to go any further. His feet dug into the
mattress, still trying to move away in pure, blind panic while his breath came
in fast, shallow pants.
Gojyo was
stunned into silence, a little bit from the pain and drinks, but mostly because
he’d never seen Sanzo like this before. He might be feeling like he got the
worse end of a bar fight, but what was that when the shoulder of Sanzo’s robe
slid down to reveal the curve of a pale neck and arm? Unfortunately, his High
Prudeness noticed as well and grabbed at the sagging cloth to yank it back into
place high around throat with one white-knuckled fist, his hair shadowing his
eyes once again as he looked down at the tangled sheets below them. Gojyo had
simply done something wrong, because
the monk was freaking out about something that had happened only a few nights
ago. The blonde rahandhand that was shaking just as badly as the rest of him
through his hair, licking his lips as he swallowed and struggled for control
over trembling limbs. Either way, it wasn’t a position Gojyo had never though
he would see Genjo Sanzo in: shoulders hunched over, scared shitless and silent
in a way that was much more disturbing than usual.
“Hey…are
you okay?” Gojyo asked in the poignant hush as he pulled a leg up on the
mattress to hide his own erection from Sanzo’s shadowed gaze even in the inky
blackness of the room. Gojyo winced, trying his very best to remain calm and
think about something else, but he couldn’t very sit still with the more and
more insistent ache at his groin. This wasn’t the Sanzo Gojyo had imagined the
few times he’d been drunk enough to entertain such a fantasy. It was damn hard
to think of anything else to do with
Sanzo but grim aim and go for it despite the panic; sure that he could wrestle
the thin man down easily. So fucking close, and yet denied again at the last
minute.
The shitty
monk was a lucky son of a bitch that Gojyo was such a gentleman and chose to
stay still until Sanzo calmed down. There wasn’t an answer to his question, but
Gojyo didn’t know if it was because he had insulted the man, or if Sanzo didn’t
trust himself to speak right now. It didn’t look good, whatever the reason may
be. Sanzo roped an arm around his legs and drew his knees up to his chin,
trying to hold himself together…or to protect himself from Gojyo. He had
perfect reason to with the thoughts running rampant through his head. What a
fine fucking sense of self-control he had.
get rid of the suspicion and doubt. Heht hht have been around a few more times
than the next guy, but he had never
once forced anyone to do a single damn thing they didn’t want to, Goddess of
Mercy or not. He wasn’t about to change that, especially with Sanzo. Something
about the monk was still incredible innocent and fragile despite the ultra-hard
casing the blonde had developed. There was an open wound inside Sanzo, very old
and easily irritated, but never once had the monk elaborated on his past or
what had happened before they had started west.
“I
paper-thin voice, vague as all hell and not about to divulge any further. Gojyo
hadn’t had this hard of time with a lover since he’d first begun fumbling around with the other sex. He started to wonder if this
would even worth all the fucking trouble, the hastily conducted foreplay
falling apart before he even had a chance. His face throbbed like hell from
that lucky punch, and Sanzo was doing his best to get as far away from Gojyo as
possible. This wasn’t the most romantic scene he had run across by far, but he
still couldn’t stifle the desire to fuck Sanzo into the mattress. He was already
covered in bruises and they had barely gotten to the best part. He had expected
to have some trouble with Sanzo, but this was ridiculous.
If Gojyo
hadn’t of wanted it so bad, he would have tried going out the window instead of
sighing and doing his best to not reach down and touch himself out of frustration.
He’d much rather that Sanzo do it…but, Gojyo hadn’t even been able to get the
monk of out his robes yet. He made tight, useless fists, thinking that death Goku
had served up wasn’t good enough for the youkai that had instilled this
outright fear in Sanzo. Gods, he wished
that he had torn every little piece of that painting into fine dust before he
had burned it, even if it was in ashes now.
“Isn’t
there another way?” Sanzo mumbled underneath the drum of the rain on the roof,
still determined to go through with it after all like the obstinate bastard he
was. Gojyo could have kissed the monk for being so stubborn as usual.
to start locking lips yet again even though Sanzo’s head slammed back against
the wall. The monk made a muffled noise that might have been another protest,
but Gojyo didn’t care as he ravished the mouth with all the skill he had earned
in the past years of fucking anonymous after anonymous.
One shaky,
cold hand snaked around his neck, thin fingers clammy against Gojyo’s own
heated skin. Sanzo’s mouth wasn’t really working, but the intent still there as
he tried to keep Gojyo close to his face with the death grip wrapped around the
back of his head. Sanzo wanted something else to cover up the horror of what
had happened, and it just so happened the Goddess of Mercy had ordered Gojyo to
do so as well. He could just think of it as an opportunity, because Gojyo was
damn sure there was no other way he’d get lucky enough for Sanzo to be so close
at hand. The circumstances could be fucked, because he was about to get to have
Sanzo all to himself.
He had to
slowly pull away, though it was more because of the hand tightly gripped around
his neck that was desperately trying to keep them at merely kissing. He got
Sanzo to let go after a bit of tug-o-war, and used that to maneuver the blonde
around with his hands, sure that the blonde wouldn’t appreciate a spoken order
right now. He gently tugged on the monk’s hips, getting him to turn slowly in
confusion on the sheets. There was no rushing Sanzo right now, and Gojyo was
sure he’d go along with whatever just to make up for losing that little bit of
face earlier by freaking out completely when Gojyo had taken them beyond heavy
petting.
Sanzo
finally settled on his knees with his back facing Gojyo, fists clenched in
front of his chest awkwardly. Gojyo squeezed Sanzo’s shoulder once in comfort
before he put an arm around Sanzo’s thin waist to drag the smaller man back on
the mattress. Sanzo endured it in sile if if Gojyo discounted how the blonde
was grinding his teeth together loudly. Sanzo was getting stubborn about going
though with this, and it worked out in Gojyo’s favor for once as he got the shitty
monk to back away from the wall.
He grabbed
one of the pillows from the head of the bed and threw it down before
Sanzo. Using his weight and little bit
of clever maneuvering, he managed to get them down on the bed with the pillow
underneath the man’s hips, both facrst rst as he sandwiched the monk between
himself and the bed. Sanzo grunted before it almost-just almost- turned into a surprised yelp when Gojyo flipped the bottom
of the robe up over the man’s back. Barely anything more than muscle and bone,
no padding at all to appreciate like a woman, but Gojyo could find aesthetic
pleasure in the jutting-out hips and pale ass sticking out slightly in the air.
Sanzo was
suspiciously quiet even though he was half-naked, making Gojyo hesitate at the
lack of reaction. But, Sanzo was merely staring forward at the headstand of the
bed like he was trying to melt it down; not at all the kind of expression one
should expect their partner to have just before they started making love. Gojyo
decided it was better to keep his mouth shut, as he gently put messy hands down
on the sharp slopf Saf Sanzo’s ass. The priest made tight fists in the sheets
as he turned his face against the mattress as if he was expecting the beating
of his life, muscles shaking underneath Gojyo’s fingers.
“It’s not
going to hurt. I won’t hurt you,”
Gojyo insisted, wondering how there could still be doubt after how many years
they had traveled together. He might have told the monk to ‘fuck off’ and ‘rot
in hell’ a little more than necessary, but he had continued to back Sanzo up in
every fight and tight spot they had fallen in despite the blonde’s complete
lack of gratitude every single time. He had even offered an ear when Sanzo got
into his sullen and dark, drunken moods and had driven off Hakkai and Goku off
long before…but everything else beyond that was sneered at and rejected harshly.
Now, Gojyo actually had a chance to do what he’d wanted to the very first time
he’d ever laid eyes on the pretty, little blonde-before Sanzo had opened his
mouth.
“Yes, it
will,” Sanzo answered back with a voice muffled by the sheets, digging his head
into the stuffing underneath his face. Gojyo could tell from the rigid bumps of
Sanzo’s spine, the shoulders bunching tightly while the priest looked like he
was doing his best just to relax, that he was definitely regretting allowing
himself to be turned onto his stomach. He was drng wng what was coming next even
though they had gotten this far. Gojyo sighed, knowing that there would be no
changing the monk’s mind by simple debate alone. He put his fingers on the two,
small globes of Sanzo’s ass and pried apart pale flesh that was starting to
tremble badly again.
Lightning
struck outside the window, but Sanzo didn’t even see it with his head shoved
into the bed like he was trying to burrow away underneath the sheets. Gojyo put
his mouth against the puckered, pink skin of Sanzo’s entrance, and slowly
pressed his tongue into the tight ring of muscle. Thunder rolled and Sanzo
jerked at the clamor, shoving back into Gojyo’s face unintentionally. It was
practically heaven. Sanzo smelled clean, but there was a faint linger of
cigarettes and gunpowder that even Kanzeon Bosatsu hadn’t been able to get rid
of. Gojyo let his tongue slide around; ing ing to make sure he took every
precaution in getting Sanzo ready. He was certain that Sanzo would be
ridiculously tight…and the image of the inside of Sanzo’s thighs caked with
blood, still sprawled out in a state of such obvious misuse when they had first
rescued the monk, haunted Gojyo every time he closed his eyes.
“No-o…oh,”
Sanzo shook his head, turning his face up from the pillow to try and tell Gojyo
to ‘stop,’ but trailing off into a moan as his profile turned up. A light flush
on Sanzo’s cheeks and the death-grip he had on a pillow were enough to tell
Gojyo that he was doing something very right. Gojyo still had his hands free as
well; reaching down to Sanzo’s hip to the semi-hard erection coming back to
life. Sanzo grunted and writhed against the intrusion and expert handling as
Gojyo let his palm slide up the underside of the monk’s cock. In only a few
seconds, Gojyo was sure that complaining was the last thing on Sanzo’s mind
right now as the thinner man started to pant and push back against his mouth.
It was as much
of an ‘okay’ as he could hope for. Gojyo tried again to press a finger covered
in Sanzo’s own cooling cum into the wet anus instead of a tongue, and this time
Sanzo didn’t even flinch. The blonde didn’t say anything, but it could be
because he had turned his face back against the mattress. If Sanzo didn’t like it,
it was already too late as Gojyo used a second finger to work the monk open
further. Muscle wasn’t as tight and restricting as it had been before, but
Sanzo’s body was still twitching around on the bed nervously. Gojyo doubted the
monk even knew he was doing it, but he couldn’t wait for Sanzo to calm down. That
could take years, and even Gojyo didn’t have that much patience left, quite ready to drill the monk into
tomorrow.
He spat
into his palm before reaching down and circled it around his own cock, giving a
few good strokes before he pressed the leaking tip against Sanzo’s rear. He
guided himself into Sanzo’s opening, still tense and unwilling despite his
previous attention, but stretched enough to fit him easily…at first. Spit and
semen helped ease the way as Gojyo started pushing forward, slowly, further
into an astonishingly intense and constrictive heat when Sanzo was so cold and
hard on the outside. It felt like a vise was snapped around his dick, and for a
moment had to simply rest there and let the monk adjust unless he wanted the
man to bleed.
“It…
his fists tightly buried in the sheets and his toes curling up on the bed in an
attempt to find some purchase. Never mind that part about ‘pleasure,’ because
it was clear the monk still didn’t believe him about sex not having to be full
of harm and humiliation Gojyo started
kissing the back of Sanzo’s neck in apology, knowing that the discomfort would
fade in a while- if Sanzo would just let him get all the way into the hilt.
Sanzo moaned and twisted deliciously around him in an attempt to get away,
unwittingly allowing Gojyo to finally fit the rest of the way in.
A
half-gasp, half-cry of pleasure escaped Sanzo’s lips, his whole body shuddering,
as Gojyo grabbed the thin man’s hips in order to keep the monk there while he
tried to jump forward. Gojyo waited over the monk’s flailing and whimpering
body for everything to adjust, sure that he had hit the right spot from the
weak sounds coming from between the monk’s lips. Gojyo moved his kisses down
the side of Sanzo’s neck and shoulder, working the priest’s cock into a second
arousal in half-apology, half-distraction. He was impressed with the sweet, blessed
warmth wrapped around his erection for the priest being a complete bastard,
very nearly on the verge despite himself.
“Sanzo,”
Gojyo groaned out, not about to waste any sentimentalism like the usual ‘I love
you’ or ‘you’re beautiful’ he’d spew out for the usual one-night fuck. Sanzo
was more than that, didn’t care for pretty words, just reaching out for common
human comfort that he had been denied his whole life in a frantic effort to
displace the horror of whatever had happened back at that youkai-infested
mansion. He wanted to comply, drawn into this game more by Sanzo’s own irresistible
beautiful and confident allure that had nothing to do with the setup that
Kanzeon Bosatsu and Hakkai had no doubt gone to great lengths to arrange. Why
not end up successful, if it could help Sanzo recover in the end?
Gojyo
pulled out slowly, just enough for only the head of his penis was still inside
the pulsating ring of muscle, before he thrust back into the welcoming warmth.
He repeated it, going in deeper and faster each time as Sanzo no longer cursed,
or managed to make a whole sentence. The priest couldn’t even push his face
into the any anymore, his face turned and mouth open as he helplessly gasped
for air around grunts forced out by Gojyo’s thrusts. The soft skin stiffening
underneath his hand as Sanzo pushed back on his own hypersensitive member was
incredible, the awareness of Sanzo’s sweating and
to lose control.
Gojyo
almost came himself when Sanzo’s body clamped around him like a vise before the
monk cried out full heartedly, orgasming for a second time. He managed to hang
on though; certain he had found the right angle now while Sanzo cried out with
every thrust. Gojyo kept pounding in, faster now to a tempo he was more
comfortable with, all the way up to his pubes and back out again, flesh meeting
flesh in the most fantastic of ways.
Grey fog in
his eyes.
Ringing in
his ears.
Blinding
whiteness as Gojyo ejaculated deep inside Sanzo, collapsing on top of the
smaller man as he merely tried to regain his breath in the aftermath of a damn
powerful orgasm. Their legs stuck together with sweat, Sanzo’s robe soaking
through the back and dampening Gojyo’s chest. Thunder rolled again, further
away from the inn now, but this time Sanzo didn’t so much as move a finger.
Gojyo wondered at that lack of movement, slowly backing out of the priest’s
anus with a flaccid dick fully coated in sperm. A good bit of it dribbled out
and down Sanzo’s left thigh now that Gojyo wasn’t corking up the monk’s ass,
and he winced, sure as all hell he was going to get a good curse-out for it…ait wit would be worth it. He hadn’t felt this sated in a long time, so content just
to lay there next to the man, now that he wasn’t bitching or snapping out
insults.
Surprisingly
enough, Sanzo felt good to cuddle with he tried to recover; the High Priest
Genjo Sanzo passed out on his stomach with legs spread on either side of Gojyo’s.
urging him to roll over with all intent to give the man an apology kiss, sure
that the tough, blonde bastard hadn’t fallen asleep yet. There was no response, Sanzo likely too embarrassed to even
look at Gojyo right now, so he pulled until he finally flipped Sanzo over to his
back.
The monk
was unconscious, the sash at his waist nearly undone with their activities, his
lower stomach coated with his own essence. There were a few fresh tears on the
man’s face, but he was otherwise out for the count, Sanzo’s body flopping around
uselessly as Gojyo pulled out pillpillow that had been underneath his hips. It
was soaked with goblets of white cum, hundreds of little High Priests ruining
the case. Gojyo tossed it aside before combing a hand through his hair with a
glance back at the passed-out Sanzo.
Damn the
man for leaving him to clean up.
*
Of course,
the power went out halfway through his shower. However, Hakkai couldn’t even
care as he scrubbed off the last of the sweat, ash, and blood from the day. It
didn’t affect the water pressure or the temperature, so he had continued until
he finally felt clean again. He stepped out, dried himself off, and then sighed
with relief as he shrugged into his old shirt, finally cleaned and repaired. He
put his spectacle in place over the scars of his bad eye, brushed wet hair into
place, and tried to smile into the mirror. He had to be happy, since everyone
else was in such misery. He just had to ignore the rain and forget about Goku
and Sanzo both being unconscious.
How could things
have turned into a mess so easily? He had only meant to bring Sanzo back to
that mansion so the man could let loose that frustration that had been eating
away at the man, and he had ended up almost allowing Goku to kill Sanzo. At
least Gojyo had burned the place down before they left. There was nothing to
return to now, all signs of that horrid night gone as if I had only been a very
bad dream. Except, Hakkai knew better. Everything was turning out so awful that
it had to be real life. He sighed, thumbing his earrings in a nervous habit.
Just what had he done, to let things get so out of control that Kanzeon Bosatsu
had to come down from Heaven?
That
reminded him that Gojyo was still watching Sanzo in the room next door, and
even though he was pretty sure that the two still hated each other, he could
never be sure about what could happen. This afternoon had showed him as much. Hakkai
left the bathroom and checked once on Goku, who was still sleeping with a
wide-open smile on his face, Hakuryuu sleeping on the pillow next to him. He
was even drooling, so Hakkai figured he didn’t have much reason to worry about
the boy. He was so resilient it was almost disgusting.
Hakkai
walked out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him even though
Goku probably wouldn’t wake up if the whole place was to fall down. It was
merely habit as he eased out of the room silently, and came face to face with
Kanzeon Bosatsu for the second time that day. He cold barely make her out in
the darkness but was sure this time she was fully clothed as Kanzeon Bosatsu
leaned back against the door to Sanzo and Gojyo’s room.
“Good
evening,” Hakkai offered to the Goddess, wondering just what she could possibly
want down here. She hadn’t done something to Sanzo and Gojyo already, while he
had been taking a shower? So foolish of him, to make the same mistake twice. He
hissed in disappointment, at himself and Gojyo for failing to protect Sanzo yet
again. Had Kanzeon Bosatsu come down just to make that point again?
“Is break
time finally over?” Kanzeon asked, looking over to him as if first noticing
Hakkai’s existence for the first time. The sound of rain echoed in Hakkai’s
ears as he bit off any harsh return that first came to mind. He took a deep
breath, didn’t even count to ten, but just grit his teeth and bared it. It was
true that he had messed up during the last fight, had been failing at healing
Sanzo since they had finally gotten him back, but he was still human. Hakkai
hadn’t been making any mistakes now and deserved a few minutes to gather
himself up before everyone else fell apart.
“Yes, I
wanted to wash some of the blood off. I just came here to give Gojyo a break as
well,” Hakkai answered back with as much honey in his voice as he could muster,
not about to be above sarcasm. The Goddess had started it first, anyway.
Kanzeon Bosatsu smirked at his impertinent remark as she crossed her arms under
her full breasts. Which reminded Hakkai that down lower on her body was the
exact opposite genitalia of what should match the top. He shouldn’t even been
thinking of her as ‘her,’ but with clothing it was so much easier to forget.
“What are
you doing here?” Hakkai asked before Kanzeon Bosatsu could have a chance to ask
him something else of the like nature. He wasn’t about to be berated for what
he had done, because from this point on it was all about what he would do.
Sanzo had taught him that lesson, and now the Goddess was trying to toy with
the priest’s life.
“I’m
waiting,” she returned mysteriously with a wide grin that Hakkai didn’t like at
all. Just what was she doing, leaning
against the door like that? It was then Hakkai lamely recalled that the doors
opened outward in this place, so she was probably keeping the two men in the
room locked in.
“For what?”
He asked with a smile, very confident that things wouldn’t turn out the way
Kanzeon Bosatsu had wanted them to. Gojyo and Sanzo hated each other. In fact,
the only time the two were civil to each other was when one was trying to bum a
cigarette from the other. That was as close to friendship as they got, and
Hakkai very much doubted that Sanzo would be ‘in the mood’ after all that had
happened, especially not with someone like Gojyo.
There was a
low moan on the other side of the door, followed by a few grunts that made Hakkai
wonder if Sanzo and Gojyo were fighting now. There were no sounds of punches
being thrown; or, at least, none of them were hitting. He looked in Kanzeon
Bosatsu in shock as she grinned proudly, the white of her teeth flashing in the
relative darkness of the hay. Jy. Just what the hell was she here for now,
another laugh, or to tell Hakkai what a bad job he had done, yet again?
“That,”
Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped as she jerked a thumb backward at the room behind her.
There was an unmistakable cry of ecstasy… that sounded like
Bosatsu out of the way before catching hims San Sanzo did not cry out in
pleasure, didn’t even know what it meant to enjoy oneself, much less to the
extent of having sex with someone else, much less Gojyo. Sanzo made his hatred
for the half-youkai known on a daily basis.
“Did you-…”
Hakkai started.
“I was just
waiting to see if anything would happen. They didn’t do anything they didn’t
want to do,” Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped back, obviously offended that Hakkai would
think she would use her supreme powers to force Gojyo and Sanzo to have sex.
She had already announced that she wished it would happen, so it wasn’t like
Hakkai had any reason not to suspect
her. There was another embarrassing cry of unadulterated pleasure before he
heard the bed start to hit the wall loudly in a rhythmic thumping.
“You look
like you need a drink,” Kanzeon Bosatsu murmured as she stepped closer and put
a hand up against the side f Hakkai’s face, forcing him to look her in the
eyes. Depthless, black, and wise… Sucking him in, and reading his soul.
Hakkai’s eyes burned just meeting her gaze, and an instinctive blink saved him.
The Goddess was a step back when he opened his eyes again, already strutting
off down the hallway. Hakkai looked at the door once, his ears burning at the
noises on the other side, before he followed after Kanzeon Bosatsu.
“Would you
care to join me?” Hakkai asked when he caught up to her, thinking that it
wasn’t too bad of an idea now. He couldn’t imagine sleep now, thinking of Sanzo
and Gojyo actually having sex… Being naked together? It was mind-boggling, like
all the known laws of the universe had been turned upside down. He needed more
than just a drink to calm down after
all this.
“Well, doesn’t
sound too shitty. It’s been a while since I’ve had a drink on Earth,” she
replied huskily, making Hakkai wonder why she had been named the Goddess of
Mercy. She was more like the Goddess of Lust with that attitude, trying to get
everyone in the known world to get together, and that inviting attitude. Hakkai
followed after her silently, trying to get his thoughts beyond Sanzo and Gojyo
actually getting together… And
why was he fixating on it?
They walked
down the stairs and into the main room, which Hakkai was half-expected to be
closed down with the power out. A large fire roared on the other side of the
room with half of the patrons crowded around it. Fat candles were at every
table, lighting the place up in a soft and homely glow that Hakkai would have
thought was impossible for the sordid place. Even the single waitress, who was
thankfully not Miss Mei, held a candle as she moved throughout the room.
Kanzeon
Bosatsu stepped past the looks suddenly directed her way with a keen interest.
Hakkai couldn’t blame the men for gawking at the strange ‘woman’ with long
black hair and breasts nearly showing through the sheen cloth draped around her
body. If only they knew that she was actually a Goddess. Half of them would
probably laugh it off as a really bad joke, and the other half would probably
go running like the superstitious bunch they were. It was already hard enough
being a part of the High Priest’s company. Most seemed to think that he was
blessed with supernatural powers just because he spent time in Genjo Sanzo’s
presence; but he was ignored for once in favor of Kanzeon Bosatsu.
“Are you
buying?” she asked as she took a seat at the bar, glancing back at Hakkai as he
tried to stay in the shadows and simply soak up the atmosphere. A storm didn’t
have to be all bad. Hakkai took the empty seat next to her as a thin, barely
legal boy gawked at the Goddess over his beer.
“Of course,
whatever you would like is on me...if you would care to answer a few questions
in exchange?” Hakkai smoothly returned, grinned like the gentleman he truly
was. Kanzeon Bosatsu looked back at him something that might have been a sneer,
before she waved to the barkeep.
“Your The man “Just leave “So, what the “That “He’s been “The Hakkai “The “The woods. “I don’t The barkeep “That’s “But, why did “Those two “Exactly. “They’re perfect “But, Sanzo “What? He “So, then, “Do you “And “Me? Are “What are “I’m going Hakkai * Waking up Sanzo He was Fuck, the He shifted, Sanzo shook That The hardest Sanzo bit It hurt. Sanzo knew And the Not with Not with Sanzo’s Sanzo went Sanzo had Sanzo ended The room He had made Sanzo It was too So, Sanzo Goku didn’t Gojyo Everything just He fell AUTHOR’S NOTES: I’m actually digging Bach Concerto in E Sigh! Let’s call this a good pause place, because I want to Sorry for the length too, put doesn’t this all fit together Uber thanks to
hardest, here,” Kanzeon Bosatsu yelled loudly at the bartender, calling
everyone’s attention to her, if it hadn’t already been directed at her. Hakkai
only smiled through it, used to much worse after traveling with
two glasses slammed down in front of each other, obviously not even a beautiful
woman and a member of the Genjo Sanzo’s party could command much power during a
black-out.
<
poured them two meager shots of clear alcohol, which was probably watered down
already. He went to move away, but Hakkai put his hand over the barkeep’s own
and smiled congenially.
the bottle, and bring another when you have the chance, please,” Hakkai asked
politely, nodding to Kanzeon Bosatsu as she finished off the first drink before
the man even had the time to set the bottle down on the counter. Hakkai poured
Kanzeon Bosatsu another, which she took with remarkable gracefulness for one
who had already stripped down naked in front of him once today.
fuck did you want to ask me?” Kanzeon Bosatsu asked, swirling the contents of
the glass for a moment before swallowing it all again in an elegant gulp. She
slammed the glass down on the counter and then burped loudly, like no woman
should. Hakkai supposed that specific didn’t really matter to Kanzeon Bosatsu. The
poor man on her other side laughed and then hiccupped, too inebriated to even
make a pass at the Goddess. It was for the better, anyway.
youkai, that… ‘painted’ Sanzo. What
was he, exactly?” Hakkai asked, finally throwing back a drink of his own at the
end. The liquor burned down his throat at left a cheap, bitter taste in his
mouth, but he could tell there was enough alcohol to do the job. Kanzeon Bosatsu
looked over at him curiously, probably expecting an easier question for an
opener. The boy on her other side was almost openly drooling, his nose turned
toward the Goddess as he tried to catch a stronger whiff of the sandalwood and
lilies that was coming off her. Hakkai gritted his teeth, wondering if he
should try to say anything before the poor guy got sucked in. He had no idea
who he was inexpertly coming onto.
around for a few decades, actually. You can find some pretty fucking old youkai
in these damn mountains, even before the madness first came,” Kanzeon Bosatsu
explained as Hakkai nodded his head in encouragement. He wasn’t about to say
that he’d already figured out the like as they got further West and into
isolated lands that human beings had never heard of before. The few people that
did live out in these quiet, little rural towns also seemed to think that there
was nothing beyond the horizon, and most of the youkai hadn’t even heard of Gyuuma-oh
or Kougaiji. Despite lacking the support of their most consistent and powerful
enemies, this last youkai had managed to nearly kill Sanzo.
bastard was always a killer and crazy mother-fucker, but he started painting
his victims few years ago. He tortured them until they died, and used the blood
in the picture. Because of that, he managed to tie their souls to the canvas,”
Kanzeon Bosatsu elaborated even further on a very tender subject. The boy’s
mouth dropped open at the woman talking about such horrible things with such a
plain look on her face as she gestured to Hakkai. He poured the Goddess a glass
as well as another for himself, shaking his head at the information. Sanzo
would have died on that bed if they hadn’t come. He had lost so much blood that
it was believable some had been used in the painting. The youkai hadn’t counted
on Sanzo surviving though. Hakkai hadn’t really either, but it seemed like the
priest was going to make a full recovery. Eventually. He wareadready feeling
good enough to mess around with Gojyo...
couldn’t help a shudder that ran all the way down his spine, forgetting that he
was trying to not think about what
was going on upstairs. He took down his second drink in one desperate swallow,
and followed it up with a third just to make sure. Hakkai didn’t usually drink,
and when he did, it was with higher quality than watered down gin. Or was it
tequila? Hakkai couldn’t even tell from the awful taste. He shook his head and
resisted the urge to start scraping his tongue against his teeth to get rid of
the aftertaste, focusing on the bitterness instead of wondering who was doing
what upstairs.
bastard kept all his paintings, so he’s kept all the souls as well. There were
quite a few in limbo here, forced to create the ideal world for that psycho,”
Kanzeon Bosatsu explained as she poured herself another drink before holding
the bottle up and glaring at the third of alcohol lef the the bottom. Hakkai
held his hand out for it while the Goddess took another shot. Kanzeon Bosatsu
passed the bottle back so Hakkai pour himself one of the last drinks left in
the glass.
That why they have such an eerie feeling, right?” Hakkai realized suddenly,
thinking how close they had come to losing Sanzo and having him turn into a
ghost like the rest the youkai. How many spirits were lingering on then, to make
all the snow on the ground perfect? It must be even worse than true purgatory;
to be forever condemned to cleaning the woods because they had died so
violently.
know how many he’s killed, but it’s in the hundreds. Maybe thousands by now.
Sanzo was probably the first to actually live through it,” Kanzeon Bosatsu murmured
to herself, her eyes narrowing off into the distance as she swirled around the
glass in her hand. Hakkai shrugged, not sure if it was so much because of them
healing Sanzo, or because the priest simply refused to die. It wasn’t every day
that the Goddess of Mercy actually bothered to show up, and it was only because
it was Sanzo. Just what was his
connection to this deity anyway, when the priest cursed her out every time she
showed up? Maybe Sanzo had known all along what Kanzeon Bosatsu had been hiding
between her legs. He had a knack for spotting every little detail.
came back with the second bottle and a fat wick candle, placing both items down
on the counter without another word to either of them. Kanzeon Bosatsu and
Hakkai stared after the man as he turned and walked over to obviously more
favored customers, both of them quiet shocked that the man was being so rude.
Though there was no way the man could know that he was shorting the Goddess of
Mercy, but he knew darn well that Hakkai was traveling with Sanzo. The barkeep
had seen him coming into the place several different times with the High Priest
unconscious in someone else’s arms. A power outage was no reason to be so cold
toward guests.
exactly right. I didn’t except a dumb shit like you to actually be able to
figure it out,” Kanzeon Bosatsu exclaimed in a way that made Hakkai wonder if
she really did think the whole lot of them were mentally challenged. He smiled
back at her with ever-present grace and good humor, not about to start an
argument with the Goddess of Mercy. Not when he had a few shots burning in his
stomach and two very close friends rolling around upstairs like animals. Just
what could Sanzo possibly be thinking of right now?
you have Gojyo…?” Hakkai asked carefully, wanting very badly to know the
answer. He had never even thought of Sanzo and sex together in the same
sentence before this week had come along and blown everything to hell. It was
even worse that it had to be Gojyo, one of the single most flippant and
uncaring womanizers Hakkai had ever met, despite all of his otherwise mostly
good points. He didn’t even want to think about how things were going to be
tomorrow or for the next few days afterwards. Hakkai could already smell this
ending badly.
are downright fucking pathetic. They wouldn’t ever get around to even touching
each other if I didn’t do anything,” Kanzeon Bosatsu growled, not just
satisfied with forcing them to go on this mission but now playing with their
love lives as well. If things got any worse- though Hakkai doubted it was
possible- he would not be so forgiving, Goddess of Mercy or not. How could she
possibly know that something good would come of this one random night?! He was
sure that Gojyo would be able to handle anything; much more resilient and jaded
than the next person after laying so many strange women, but Sanzo…Hakkai was
quite sure the monk had never had an experience like this before. He wouldn’t
stand to see the priest be unhappy just because Kanzeon Bosatsu felt like
playing around…instead of the usual depression, Hakkai reminded himself with a
half-sneer.
So, why?” Hakkai demanded for the second time. If she was agreeing with him
about Gojyo and Sanzo being more like to tear each other’s heads off rather
than make love, then why had she come down from Heaven to listen at the door?
She must have done something to make this happen. Hakkai couldn’t
believe that opposites attracted, at least, not such extreme ones like Gojyo
and Sanzo.
for each other. Both of them want to be loved so bad, but damned if they’ll
ever speak a word,” she waved the empty glass in front of her to accent her
point. Hakkai nodded at that, unable to argue a single word of that sentence.
Gojyo and Sanzo were both very deeply damaged from their childhoods, and both
had been forced to grow up in severe lack of familial love, the comfort
of a human being. Sanzo had created a hard shell around his heart, his emotions
almost completely locked off to keep anyone else from wounding him. Gojyo tried
to do the same, but his was an act that would fall apart into tears easily
after drinking too much or having very good sex.
is-…” Hakkai started, putting aside the ‘who’ was doing it to Sanzo for the
suspicion that the priest might be really damaged still. All the physical marks
were gone, but what went on inside that head was very dangerous indeed. How
could Sanzo even be ready for physical intimacy when he had been gang-raped by
youkai only a few nights ago?!
needs someone to forget all that with; and that shitty,
know the first thing about how to get some. I just merely made the opportunity.
They’re the ones that chose to do as I said,” Kanzeon Bosatsu countered,
her point being just as honest as the last. It was all the more reason to
wonder what the hell Sanzo and Gojyo were thinking right now. If
anything, Hakkai thought he would have been able to trust Gojyo to keep his
dick in his pants for over five minutes, but he supposed that was asking too
much, yet again.
what do we do now?” Hakkai asked as he reached over for the almost finished
bottle. When would Sanzo be ready to travel again? Would he even want to
continue with their mission after everything that had happened? Hakkai couldn’t
blame the man if this whole mess was the final straw for him. Hakkai could tell
how the duties of a High Priest Sanzo weighed down on the blonde, and knew that
this would only add to the shame and responsibility Sanzo felt.
have to even ask? You’re going to keep going West, of course,” Kanzeon Bosatsu
snapped, like he was a child that repeated failed to understand what was going
on. How could he when everything was being thrown into such chaos? The only one
out of all of them who was relatively unharmed was Hakuryuu. What a poor
showing they had done this time, but at least it was all over, for the most
part…
Bosatsu ordered in a deep and sensual timber as she turned away from him that
made Hakkai shiver despite himself. The intoxicated teenager to her side looked
up in confusion as he slowly realized he was being addressed by the beautiful
woman. Big, brown doe eyes in that plain farmer face went wide as they could go
when Kanzeon Bosatsu turned her full attention on the poor boy.
you… talking to me?” the kid slurred out, one eye refusing to focus on the Goddess
as she leaned toward him; Hakkai completely forgotten on her other arm. He
could only pour yet another shot while Kanzeon Bosatsu whispered something into
the boy’s ear. It was no doubt something lude by the blush on the young man’s
cheeks, and he was already drunkenly digging in his pockets and slapping some
random coins down for his check. Hakkai decided that he would have to protest
when the boy stood up and almost fell down again if it wasn’t for Kanzeon
Bosatsu grabbing him around the waist.
you going to do? You can’t-…” Hakkai tried before the Goddess swung around with
her prey staggering to keep up. The boy was likely much too drunk to know what
was happening, but Hakkai didn’t think anyone would appreciate a partner having
the opposite genitalia of what one would expect from Kanzeon Bosatsu.
to have a little fun. You just stay down here and feel bad, like usual,”
Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped before she turned around and started heading off to
what Hakkai suspected was to the poor lad’s room. He turned back to his empty
glass, grimacing at the faint loss of equilibrium which was slowly getting
stronger. Alcohol was starting to roar through his thoughts, feeling guilty
about feeling guilty now, thanks to Kanzeon Bosatsu’s last comment. As if he
didn’t already feel responsible enough for everything that had happened.
turned his full attention onto the second bottle stubbornly in his solitude.
hurt in such a delicious way that Sanzo wished it could last forever. There was
blessed silence now in the room, the storm from last night blown over, except
for the slightest whisper of wind across his ear every now and then. It must be
from the leaking window, which didn’t hold in any heat. The familiar, petty
complaint warmed him, no longer waking up to utter confusion because this time
he was certain which bed he was lying in. Relief took him, so unfamiliar and
deceptively calming when every muscle was sore, his whole body aching like he
had run a marathon. It felt good, so warm and comfortable that he could
consider going back to sleep again, which was something Genjo Sanzo rarely did.
decided to lay his aching head back down on the pillows, reaching up to scrub
at one gummed-up eye before he tried falling back asleep. It was always
surprising to wake up with a hangover when he could usually chase it all away
with a cigarette. Maybe if he could continue to doze, he could sleep right
through this hangover and the dried-out aftertaste in his mouth. But, for some
strange reason, he was comfortable right now with his bare skin pressed against
along with…Gojyo’s…naked…body…
suddenly aware of the position he was in, twined up with Gojyo fully attached
to the whole length of his own body. An arm was draped over his waist and a leg
between Sanzo’s own, still trying to hold him down in his sleep. Sanzo felt
nausea coming on as he realized it was no wind but Gojyo breathing heavily into
his ear as he slept on. Sanzo slowly brought a hand up to his head, still
feeling drunk and disorientated and not at all
pleased with the shit that was going on. The last thing he remembered was
when plain exhaustion and liquor had finally broken him down into tears before
Gojyo, the lack of control very poignant in an otherwise fuzzy night.
skin crawl. Sanzo hadn’t had to go through that kind of weather in a long time.
He would have preferred to curl up underneath the sheets and play dead until it
stopped raining, but he hadn’t very well been able to do that in front of
that the redhead had seen him in such a fucking pathetic state, that he had just
held onto the man for dear life while thunder crashed around him, and…and…the bed
as he had shoved his face into it, Gojyo still thrusting into him though Sanzo
had already felt such intense pleasure he’d ejaculated twice, his body
completely overwhelmed by a sensation he couldn’t even name. ‘Good’ didn’t
cover it, and ‘pleasure’ seemed a far cry from what had happened last night.
unable to stay still a moment longer but unsure on how he should disengage
himself. Gojyo could always prove to be a light sleeper at the worst of times. He
pulled away slightly, dried sweat on flesh making them stick together before
Sanzo finally wormed away from Gojyo on the bed. He froze after moving his
legs, stabbing bolts of pain twisting up in his bowels so badly at the movement
that he had to lay still and pant quietly for a second. Sanzo’s ears burned as
he realized belated that there should be a nice mess of Gojyo’s leave-takings
dripping out of ass-and discovered that he had been wiped down after use like a
horse. What was worse was the fact he had actually enjoyed it. Fucking one
pathetic, weak moment was all it took for Genjo Sanzo to find himself flat on
his back…stomach, actually, since the first position had caused such raw panic
that Sanzo couldn’t even coherently recall what had happened before he’d…got
screwed into next week. Just what fucking day was it anyway?
his head, refusing to even consider that Gojyo had been so good he had passed
out for several days afterward. True, Gojyo had been much more skillful than Sanzo
had ever imagined, struck dumb that he the man was so skillful and-gentle. He
hadn’t counted on that, to be handled delicately despite the passion of the
situation. He was half-insulted…and the other half wanted to curl next to Gojyo
and suck up whatever little bit of affection he could. It was so much different
than what those youkai did. That had simply been agony as…
unable to even do more than twitch his legs as the youkai pulled out, blood and
semen dripping across Sanzo’s thigh. Blood was dried and being covered over
with a new flow down his wrists. The sheets underneath his back were soggy with
more blood from his back, the damage worsening each time a youkai climbed up
and tried to pound him into the bed. He
had tried to keep count at first, ready to match the number with bullets, but
sheer pain and non-stop switching between the youkai had forced him to forget
how many it was exactly. Now, he was just going to kill them all, every single
last one in this forest. It seemed like all of them were in that room, staring
at him and cheering as their brethren ripped him apart from the inside. But,
the first one would be the painter as the leader youkai stepped up to loom over
the bed, a brief pause in the abuse.
don’t mind, Genjo Sanzo,” the youkai asked snidely, just as irritating as
Hakkai with that constant politeness. Sanzo couldn’t summon the energy to even
move as the youkai reached down and grabbed his bruised and aching genitals
with one fist, sliding it down in one long, agonizing moment where it felt the
youkai was trying to pop his head off. Then, the youkai dropped him to smear
around the blood covering the insides of his legs until his hand was soaked
red.
ordered as he moved back to the painting with his hand covered in Sanzo’s
blood. There was the wet splat of the youkai’s palm hitting the canvas before a
relative murmur went through the crowd as the youkai tried to decide who got to
go next. The only reason Sanzo didn’t bite his tongue off and bleed to death
before one more of these fuckers even so much as touched him was because he
wanted to make sure he killed them all. Such a small, petty desire, but Sanzo
would be
each and everyone one of these youkai.
matter how long it would take.
across the room before he even made the conscious decision to move, just
panicked into flight from whatever had triggered that piece of his memory. Amazingly
enough, Gojyo slept through it even as Sanzo gasped and choked for air around a
tightening throat. Just how long had those youkai had used him? How many more of these little surprises was he going to
have to live through, until he finally got through that night, at least in his
own memory? How much longer until he finally
had his mind back under control?
more Sanzo found out, the harder the shame was getting to bear. Memories and
flashes of that night kept pouring in; so many that Sanzo was beginning to
doubt that it had only been a few hours. So much had happened, so much dishonor
endured just for that one moment of retribution; and it had all been stolen
away by Goku at the last moment. Funny thing was, Sanzo wasn’t sure what he
would have done with his hands shaking so badly as they entered that abandoned
mansion. It had felt like the first time, yet Sanzo could recognize places from
his dreams, even the smear of his own blood on the walls and floors between the
massacre Goku had caused fim. im. That fucking stupid ape. Sanzo had reason
enough to be pissed just because of what had happened, but that painting…
goddamn painting…
thing to think about now was that Gojyo, Hakkai, and even Goku knew e-fucking-xactly what had happened to him. Sanzo was
getting the story together with little pieces here and there, but the utter
gall of them knowing, talking about it, him. They were likely all getting
together to critique that damn thing. Why did Gojyo have to stop him last
night, before he could have destroyed the face that had caused all this madness?
How could he really believe that Gojyo had burned the painting? It might still
be around… That paranoia made his blood turn cold, his stomach clenching up in
sheer terror.
his lower lip to keep himself from shaking. He wasn’t about to fall apart. That
just wasn’t what Genjo Sanzo would do. No way in hell. He had thought he could
fix this himself, had thought that if he just used Gojyo like the easy lay he
was, he could cover up these too fresh and painful memories. And, it had
worked, just so long as Gojyo had been screwing him. Sanzo had found himself
caught up in the moment, not even able to think for once as Gojyo took him to a
new height of awareness, Sanzo hadn’t even been aware that his temporary lover
was a half-youkai. He had no words to describe what it had been, just so good
and warm when Sanzo hadn’t been expecting anything but a quick fuck to soothe
the pain with from Gojyo
Sanzo couldn’t place the feeling that was making his chest constrict and his
vision blur as he fought off the burning sensation of tears. The human contact
was too much to take, his skin twitching as it remembered the feeling of
Gojyo’s lips. How damned gutless of him. He wouldn’t cry again, not around
Gojyo, not around anyone. The solitude burned even worse than usual, after
having another human being touch him, hold him, reminding him about the simple
comfort of knowing someone did care. Sanzo
bit the inside of his mouth at that weak thought, his thoughts shattered like
broken glass as he kept cutting himself on the pieces. Sanzo couldn’t handle
the memories, couldn’t reduce himself to waking Gojyo up for the morning after,
when he knew the redhead would likely only mock him. But, there was a hunger
for anything from sex to simple camaraderie, because Gojyo had made that
shriveled thing called a heart inside of him wake up and beg for more.
only ohinghing would be able to consolidate him right now, and it certainly
wasn’t in the same room as Gojyo. He found his robe on the floor, but Sanzo
didn’t remember how it had gotten there. He lifted it up to find the thing
wrinkled and stained, his own semen smeared on the edge of the robe being too
fucking much. Sanzo dropped it in horror, remembering that he had insisted on
keeping it on… actually frightened by the thought of being completely naked
with another person. Gojyo especially, after Sanzo had reached out in a drunken
haze for a little bit of comfort.
asshole had provided quite more than necessary. Sanzo didn’t recall ever being
asked to be handled like he was going to break, to listen to his irrational
terror and back off when necessary. He didn’t…couldn’t want it. He had to get away from Gojyo, because this was
getting much more dangerous than Sanzo had intended. It was actually starting
to mean something to him. Sanzo bit the inside of his mouth as he started to
make a shuffling escape to the door, becoming more aware of the little aches
and sores of his body in very personal places- all because of Gojyo. Sanzo put
a hand to his head, not about ready to deal with waking up for the first time
with an actual lover.
Gojyo.
anyone.
dark thoughts were interrupted by the sudden realization of his freezing feet
and cold, naked body. He had to get out of the room, but he had to get dressed
first. Sanzo couldn’t stand the sight of his own perfect, unflawed body. He
didn’t want Gojyo to see it, though he was sure the prick had gotten a good
look when he had undressed him after being passed out cold.
to the drawer and for once had the slightest bit of luck for there to be a
clean set of pajamas. He only took the time to step haphazardly into the pants,
almost toppling over if he didn’t catch himself with a hand on the dresser.
Still drunk, on the verge of panic, wondering just what the hell had happened
to make him fall under Gojyo’s spell so quickly. He didn’t bother with the
shirt, just bolted for the door as silently as possible with Gojyo snoring
lightly behind him.
to veer around the shards of glass on the floor from the bottle he had thrown
last night; still left wishing that he had had better aim with large blunt
objects instead of just bullets. At least if he had managed to beat Gojyo
senseless, he wouldn’t have ended up between the redhead’s sheets.
forget that they had been locked in the night before; twisting the knob before
he realized it was useless. He
blinked in surprise when the door swung open under his hand. Well, there was no
need to try jumping out the window, then. Sanzo was out in the hallway and
shutting the door ever-so-gently in a heartbeat, already feeling better now
that he had a solid wall between him and Gojyo. For a moment Sanzo looked both
ways down the hall, forgetting which way was the other room in his stupor. He
couldn’t be there with Gojyo a moment longer, on the verge of collapsing in the
hall in shock with what he had chosen to do last night. He had been begging for it, but Sanzo had bit his own tongue to keep
Gojyo from ever knowing that, shoved his face into the mattress before he could
make a noise that would betray him.
up deciding to go right, and opened up the next door down without any heed for
who was inside. He was High Priest Genjo Sanzo. He didn’t need to knock. He
just needed to get away from Gojyo and find a bit of peace somewhere…in a place
he wouldn’t dare tell anyone else about.
was identical to the one he had just left: shabby and plain; except this one
had two beds. Sanzo’s eyes narrowed at the single empty bed, wondering where
Hakkai could still be at this hour. In the other bed was Goku, sprawled out
across the covers, not looking at all like he had been Son Goku only a little
bit ago. Sanzo tisked at the dumb ass’s ape ability to sleep so soundly no
matter what the situation before he moved toward the bed, still feeling tired
and vulnerable; which was most certainly not a state he wanted to be in with
Gojyo.
most likely the worst fucking mistake of his life last night. What had he been
thinking when he allowed Gojyo to mount him?! The prick would be overconfident
as all hell now, or even worse, actually tell someone else what had happened
between them. Sanzo swallowed hard, his eyes most certainly
Sanzo did not regret things...But, he could certainly feel like an ass for
allowing it to happen, for letting himself go completely.
closed his eyes tightly, trying to forget that for a split second, it had felt
so good that Sanzo had almost cried Gojyo’s name out loud. Humiliating!
Absolutely pathetic. At least he had gagged himself with the pillow, but he had
come so close to letting the whole inn know just who was giving it to High Priest
Genjo Sanzo. Gods, even Hakkai had
known, and the sadistic mother-fucker had barricaded them in the room together.
Did they even think of him as human any more after what had happened?
much to deal with right now. His head was starting to throb, the familiar pang
of a migraine faint but distinct. Sanzo felt his breath stick in his throat, a
hair’s width away from screaming out loud. His chest was starting to tighten as
well, emotions coming on so strongly that he might be nauseous. Genjo Sanzo
didn’t worry, didn’t anticipate with dread, and didn’t run from situations he
couldn’t handle. He had always been able to handle things before. By himself. No
one else could ever be counted on to be there for him. Except now, the loneliness
was starting to actually hurt on top
of everything else. He was just raw on the inside, bruised and aching from what
youkai and half-youkai had done to him.
fell down on top of the covers heavily, nose to nose with Goku as he lay his
head down on the pillows. The dumbass ape kept on sleeping through the jostling
movement, and would likely doze though anything Sanzo did now. There was even
drool on the pillow underneath Goku’s open mouth and a little bubble of snot
blowing out of one nostril. Sanzo couldn’t even shake his head at the sheer
disgusting way Goku slept, but he ended up with a slight grin on his face that
he wouldn’t allow in any other one’s presence.
even know just how much he could do simply by lying there. Goku calmed him, as
much as Sanzo didn’t like to admit it. He would eat glass before saying so out
loud, but Goku could soothe away all the damage and pain, even the old scars on
Sanzo’s shrunken and wrinkled heart. What was better was that Goku didn’t even
need to be awake, running around and yelling his head off like an idiot, didn’t
even need to know that Sanzo was there, didn’t even have to touch the
monkey…just get close enough on the bed to smell Goku’s usual mix of sweat,
dirt, and bizarrely enough, the fresh air of the mountains to feel like for
once, everything would be okay.
hadn’t been able to give him this sort of deceptive peace, though he had
managed to make Sanzo forget for a moment just how fucked up he really was.
Sanzo knew he was rotten, just like bad fruit, from the inside out; but Goku
didn’t even associate that sort of thing with him. Goku loved him with more
blind loyalty than a dog, though Sanzo did his best to deflect those sorts of
warm feelings. He had sworn off such weak things off long ago, but it also got
real fucking lonely being the High Priest. He just needed a moment where no one
was looking at him, ready to gossip about the next thing he did or said, and
trying to get in his pants like Gojyo, or his head like Hakkai, and he knew
that Goku was the only one who didn’t have such thoughts…or no thoughts at all as
the idiot grinned and murmured out some sleepy nonsense that he couldn’t
understand. The ape was no doubt dreaming about food, simpleminded as he was.
melted away, his worries and anxieties forgotten. Numbness spread through him,
a salve that he had never once had the benefit of, which he hadn’t been able to
gain with Gojyo. This actually felt like…contentment. It was enough for him to
take a deep breath, exhale, and let his muscles loosen up. Sanzo could close
his eyes and not have any youkai assault him in the darkness, just because he
could hear Goku’s snoring and dream-babble. Goku was a security blanket that
Sanzo would never admit to having, using, or believing in.
asleep next to the dumbass ape before he even knew it, and for once, he didn’t
even have dreams.
right now. But, hoorah, I ring the bell for the first winner:
for recognizing the lyrics of “Damaged” by Plummet, which I used for the first five
chapters. Sixth was, of course, “DJs” by Sublime, and this was “Let Go” by Frou
Frou. I use lyrics for all my titles, because I’m not clever enough to come up
with something on my own!
get back to Weiss Kruez now (Gluhen’s pissing me off too much to leave alone!).
Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed me, you really made me want to
write more. And damn it, if I really did get paid I could be doing this all day
long –TIIIIGHT-
nicely? Imagine cutting it in half!
and critic@heronet.ne.jp for
having the patience to read through this all and correct it!