Chocolate

Title: Chocolate, only because I\'m too lazy/stupid to come up with a better title.

Summary: It\'s after midnight, and this is their last chance at a moment of privacy for the next few days. Sanzo/Goku, NC-17 rating for graphic m/m sex scene and language. A whopping 10,470 words; I don\'t think I can write an honest-to-god PWP to save my life.

WARNING: Not for the faint of heart or the easily offended. If you don’t like men playing with men, don’t read. On the other hand, if the title of \'Chocolate\' paired with a naked Sanzo and Goku molesting each other arouses your interest *cough* then this story is for you.

I dedicate this to both keistje for her \"Mmmm... meatbuns\" comment way back in the day, and bleedthefreak/bleedformeee for the copious amounts of sexy music she sent me for inspiration and motivation. Now she has me hooked on Static-X and Stabbing Westward (which only seems appropriate to listen to when writing about four guys making their way west). Love you both! -heart!-




Chocolate



+

“Chocolate?” Hakkai asked, extending the small piece of wrapped candy, and Sanzo waved it away with a barely disguised look of disgust.

“You should know by now that I hate chocolate,” he replied, leaning back in his chair and pulling out his battered pack of cigarettes.

“Yes, well,” the gentle man replied with a smile, “I got a piece for each of us, and thought I’d offer it to you just in case you changed your mind.”

“I’ll have his!” both Goku and Gojyo said at the same time, and then squared off across the dinner table and empty plates with an angry game of janken. Sanzo ignored them; he had gotten very good at that.

One more day of travel had passed them by, one more in a long count that could have put an elephant’s memory to shame. Sometimes it felt like they had been traveling for years, though in reality Sanzo knew not even one had passed yet. It was remarkably monotonous, despite their almost regular battles with demons both sane and insane. Wake up, eat breakfast, drink coffee (or beer, if one was hung-over from the night before), get in the jeep, drive for a while, stop to assuage the monkey’s stomach, drive some more, find an inn if they were lucky, and sleep. If they weren’t lucky Hakkai would continue driving until the day’s fatigue caught up to him, and they’d either pitch a tent or sleep in the jeep itself if Hakuryuu was gracious to remain in his second form. And if they were really lucky, they would be able to go through the whole routine without running into any Gyumaoh’s assassins and get an inn room at the end of the day.

This was not one of those days.

Not only had they been out in the wilderness for the past week without a sign of civilization in sight (no thanks to Gojyo and Goku jointly managing to lose the map), they had also been besieged by psychotic demons at every other corner. They were exhausted, dirty, and bone-tired; the only good thing about last few days was that the demons had all been the run-of-the-mill variety with no actual battle experience, they had reached this town relatively early in the day, and the inn had just enough rooms to put the four of them up for the night.

Sanzo lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, relishing the taste and the heavy feel of nicotine invading his lungs.

Tonight he’d be sharing a room with Goku. That was a good thing, too.

Goku cursed as Gojyo won the final hand of janken, but didn’t put up his usual accusation that the red-head was cheating. He was probably too tired to care about the fight, if not the chocolate that made its way down the winner’s gullet. Hakkai only laughed quietly over his tea, and promised Goku he’d get a few more of the precious candy from the inn-keeper in the morning.

Sanzo tapped his ashes into the bowl where his rice had been, and pushed himself to his feet. The sun was still up, barely an hour away from setting, but he didn’t want to stay down in the busy inn-restaurant and listen to the clamor of the other patrons. He wanted a little more privacy than what he could get down here.

“Going to bed, Sanzo?” Hakkai asked politely, lifting his good eye from the chocolate-mourning boy. The curve of his monocle caught the light and hid his other eye from view.

The priest grunted in reply, sticking the cigarette between his lips and fishing out his gold card. “I assume you’re getting supplies before the morning?” he questioned in reply before handing it to the other man. Hakkai was the only one he trusted with the card – not that he cared how much was spent, considering he wasn’t paying for it; he just didn’t want the money getting spent on useless items (likes whores or excess food) that would do them no good in the long run.

“Yes,” the other man said, and secreted the card in his pants pocket. “Sleep well, Sanzo.”

“Tucking in so early, monk?” Gojyo asked. He got entirely too much pleasure out of teasing Goku with that piece of chocolate. “Sun’s not even down yet. I plan on getting a little pocket change from the card table over there.”

Sanzo hadn’t missed the small corner of the restaurant that was devoted to gambling, or the women that tried to inconspicuously hover around it and didn’t realize they were failing miserably. The half-breed was probably hoping he could get laid.

“Don’t bet your pants,” he advised, remembering all too well the last time Gojyo had tried gambling with Hakkai.

Apparently Gojyo remembered the embarrassing incident as well, for his expression darkened slightly before he covered it with a smile. “You have no faith,” he said (a fact which should have been painfully obvious by now), and the conversation was left at that.

He turned away then, sucking in another lungful of calming smoke. “Hurry up or stay down here,” he informed his room-mate as he passed behind the boy’s chair. “Just don’t complain to me if you stay up too late tonight.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Goku grumbled (and Sanzo forced back an entirely inappropriate smirk) before shoving back his chair and following.

The priest didn’t say anything as he wove through the tables to the stairs that led to the rooms above, didn’t look back to see if the younger man was following; he knew Goku was, knew it intellectually and felt it instinctively, like a presence at his back that was close enough to touch but lingered far enough away not to. He climbed the stairs, cigarette in one hand and railing beneath the other, steps creaking beneath the combined weight of their bodies. The four them had dropped their supplies off in their respective rooms before coming down to eat, and Sanzo had pocketed both the keys for his room rather than entrust Goku to his own. It kept the boy from being able to stay up with the other two and come back to the rented room later.

The noise from the restaurant was muted through the floor-boards, a murmur that wasn’t quite so annoying to listen to. The room he was sharing with Goku was at the end of the hall to the left, two doors past the room Gojyo and Hakkai would be sharing. The boy followed him as he went to the door and unlocked it, a strangely silent shadow at his back.

The room itself was sparse, utilitarian but comfortable enough to support the needs of a pair of travelers. There was only one bed, but it was more than large enough to fit the both of them, even with Goku’s habit of sprawling all over the place. To either side of the bed were small tables with drawers in them, one topped with a reading lamp. A long window spanned the western wall, letting in the light of the setting sun and the sight of the slowly emptying marketplace just beyond the glass panes.

He heard a faint click behind him as he went to the window, knowing Goku had pulled the door closed and locked it. He pulled at the curtains, drawing them tightly closed; the room darkened, but not so much that they could not see. His next stop was the bed, heading for the side closest the window. The priest removed his reading glasses and his banishing gun from where he kept them tucked in his robes, cautiously checking the pistol’s ammunition and the glasses for any cracks before resting them on the bedside table. It always paid off to be prepared for a night-time attack, and it was damned hard to find a glass smith to replace spectacles these days.

The motions were automatic, habits hard to break; Sanzo’s preparation for bed almost always followed the same routine. Close the curtains, remove and check his pistol and glasses, toe off his sandals and socks, roll up the scripture and remove his robes. The floorboards were cold under his bare feet, and the paper/fabric of the maten-kyomen strangely soft between his fingers. He didn’t pay much attention to Goku as the boy dug through his bags before going to the bed and setting something on the opposite bedside table; he head the faint clunk of glass on wood and the rustle of plastic, and knew what they were without looking. The young man rounded the bed to the priest’s side after that, still having not said a word since leaving the table downstairs.

Goku only waited long enough for Sanzo to carefully roll up his sutra and place it on the bedside table. The instant the priest’s fingertips left the scripture the younger man pounced, tackling him onto the bed and nearly knocking the breath out of both of them. Sanzo didn’t care, though; his hands went straight to the boy’s belt, only slightly distracted by the lean thighs that straddled his hips and the hands that tangled in his hair. Goku pressed him down onto the bed, inhaling sharply when the priest got the belt unbuckled and accidentally (on purpose) brushed his knuckles against the hardening bulge in the boy’s jeans. The older man tilted his head back and couldn’t suppress a moan at the forceful way Goku kissed him, at the tongue that forced its way past his lips.

At least, until he got a good taste of chocolate.

Goku pulled back in surprise when Sanzo turned his head to the side, effectively ending the kiss. Wide, golden eyes blinked down at him in confusion.

“You taste like chocolate,” the priest supplied, glaring at the boy even as he tugged the belt free and tossed it away from them. “I hate chocolate.”

Another blink, and then the confusion gave way to amusement, the younger man’s lips curling upward in a devious smile. “You weren’t complaining that day the fair came to Chang’An.”

No, he hadn’t complained that day; it was very hard to voice a complaint (or voice anything coherent at all, for that matter) when there was a creature like Goku finding very creative uses for chocolate besides eating it. “I didn’t eat any of it,” he pointed out, and pulled the boy’s shirt out of his jeans. “And I still want to know how you managed to steal all that rope.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” the youth sing-songed, grinning widely, and helped remove the decorative bamboo breastplate. That was tossed away with as much decorum as the belt, the object rattling to the floor somewhere in the middle of the room; knowing that Sanzo would probably only protest at another kiss, Goku leaned forward and fastened his lips to the flesh just under the priest’s ear, pulling a barely audible curse from the older man.

The robe went next, as did Goku’s vest and shirt, all three getting deposited somewhere off the edge of the bed. Sanzo avoided any direct kissing, and the boy was wise enough not to force the issue, but that just meant they needed to make up for it in different ways. As Goku was working on peeling off the older man’s gloves, the blonde turned his attention to the delicate collarbones of his lover, dipping his tongue into the hollows and tracing the muscle back up to his jaw. The younger man sighed softly, tilting his head back to completely expose his throat, hands seeming to forget about the second glove that was only half-way off; Sanzo took the invitation with pleasure, biting down gently on Goku’s adam’s apple and eliciting a faint moan that vibrated through his teeth.

He pulled the other glove off himself, tossing it away, before wrapping his arms around the bare torso of the boy in his lap and pulling their hips snug together. They both hissed softly at the pressure this put on their erections, and when Sanzo once again bit down on Goku’s throat the younger man dug his fingers into the priest’s shoulders and ground their hips further together. It hurt, just a little; the zippers and the coarse seams of both their jeans were in just the wrong places to be uncomfortable. The friction between their bodies, though, was enough that he could ignore it, focusing on the skin beneath his fingers and tongue instead, feeling himself gradually become harder under the rough ministrations.

The younger man wrapped his arms around Sanzo’s neck, pressing their chests together, turning his head to nibble on the priest’s ear – and then yawned.

There was a strained moment of silence before the blonde pulled away from his lover, lifting one eyebrow in a wry expression. “Am I boring you?” Sanzo asked dryly.

The boy looked decidedly embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just a little tired.”

That was a true enough statement for Sanzo as well; even though having Goku rubbing against him made him horny as hell, exhaustion burned deeper than desire. It had been so long since they’d had the privacy to really be together – quick hand-jobs stolen here and there were not the same – but underneath it all he just wanted to lay down where he was and fall into a dreamless sleep. It was a frustrating sensation.

“If you’re too tired – “

“No,” Goku reassured hastily. “Not that tired yet.”

He leaned forward to steal a forbidden kiss, brushing his lips lightly against the corner of the priest’s mouth. Sanzo turned his head to accept the polite request, nipping at the boy’s bottom lip, deciding to simply ignore the taste of the sweet still lingering in his lover’s mouth. And when Goku parted his lips to suck on the older man’s tongue, it was Sanzo’s turn to yawn.

He pulled away in disgust, and the youth didn’t bother to stifle a giggle. “You tired, too?” he asked, managing to sound more sympathetic than amused.

The priest sighed and dug the heel of his palm into his right eye. “Yeah,” he replied. If he were to go forward with their love-making anyway, he had a strong feeling he’d be risking falling asleep on the younger man. “... fuck.”

Goku didn’t say anything in reply, just leaned forward until his forehead rested on Sanzo’s shoulder, light enough that the edge of his limiter didn’t dig into the flesh. They sat like that for a long moment, unmoving, before the priest sighed again and pushed gently at the boy’s shoulder. “Get off me,” he said. “I’m not falling asleep like this.”

There were no apologies or promises for rain checks; they had been together long enough to know that these things were bound to happen, especially while on such a stressful journey. The younger man slid off Sanzo’s lap and moved to where his personal bag lay, digging out his sleeping clothes and sitting down to pull off his boots. Nothing more was said as they individually readied themselves for bed; Sanzo just pulled off his shirt and threw it to the floor with the rest of their discarded clothing before getting under the sheets. He usually slept in his jeans, anyways, and it would make falling asleep with a half-erection a bit less awkward. It was only a minute later than Goku joined him in just his shorts, the older man shifting to make room for the sleepy-eyed boy.

They curled together, Goku’s back to Sanzo’s front, sheets thrown haphazardly over their bodies. The youth wrapped his fingers around Sanzo’s wrist, bringing his hand up to plant a light kiss against the calloused palm. “’Night,” he mumbled, lips brushing against the dry skin.

“Go to sleep,” Sanzo said in reply, giving the back of the boy’s neck a kiss of his own, and closed his eyes.

Sleep was not long in coming for either of them.

----

When Sanzo woke up, it was usually an abrupt process; in one second floating in the black, dreamless oblivion of sleep (for he did not dream unless it was a nightmare) – and in the next second totally awake, mind clear of the normal fogginess most people complained of and completely aware of his environment. If he didn’t wake up this way, then it could probably be correctly assumed that he didn’t exactly fall asleep under his own power.

He opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the light of the room. It was well-past midnight by now, though how close it was to morning he couldn’t be certain; pale light filtered in through the curtains he had yanked closed, but he could tell from the color and its wavering nature that it was from the streetlamp outside the window. There was no sound to be heard, no night insects or business going on in or around the inn, nothing but the sound of Goku’s deep, even breathing.

They had fallen asleep like this, he recalled, with his forehead pressed against the back of Goku’s neck and one arm wrapped around the slim waist. Normally it was the other way around, with the younger man finding a way to latch onto his keeper no matter what awkward position it might put him in, but earlier in the night the priest had wanted to indulge in more physical comfort than he usually did. He might have been too tired to screw the boy into the mattress, but he wasn’t too tired to treat himself to a little... ‘cuddling’, as Goku called it.

He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, shifting slightly to adjust the arm his head was pillowed on. It was nice, being pressed up against the boy instead of the other way around; it left his free hand open to wander, and he found himself lightly curling his fingers over his lover’s abdomen. His movements, while small, would have been more than enough to wake him had their positions been reversed, but there was no pause in Goku’s breathing. For all extents and purposes he was dead to the world.

Sanzo let his eyes fall closed again, intent on returning to sleep, but the state of unconsciousness eluded him. He concentrated on the heartbeat that thudded against his chest, trying to match his breathing to that of Goku’s, but it didn’t help. He was still tired, but his brain didn’t want to shut off now that it had turned back on. Not when quiet moments like these were so rare.

Their group was a loud and noisy one; Gojyo baiting Goku into petty fights, Goku whining for attention and food, Hakkai with his loud silences, the random demons they fought with their insults and pathetic battle tactics. Stress ran high, a tenseness that meditation was unable to dissipate. Sanzo had found himself smoking twice as many cigarettes as he had before leaving Chang’An, but even that indulgence served him no good if there was hardly any calm time to be found. Lying here in the dark with nothing to hear but Goku’s deep breathing was more relaxing than the cigarette he’d had before bed.

And ... it was incredibly arousing as well.

A soft sigh escaped the boy when Sanzo ran the edge of a nail lightly over one nipple, but otherwise the priest received no reaction. He didn’t really expect it; Goku was a heavy sleeper, with nothing shy of a demon attack or being rolled out of bed likely to wake him. How far he could go without waking the younger man, though... that was a question he had never considered answering before. And with their foreplay aborted by exhaustion earlier in the night, Sanzo was more than willing to give it a try.

Still pressed up against Goku’s back, the priest placed a light kiss on the boy’s shoulder blade, letting the fingers of his right hand move purely by touch. The muscles under the soft, smooth skin were lax in sleep, the slow beat of a heart thudding in his palm and against his own chest and stomach. The second time he ran his fingertips over the nipple, Goku did not react at all – but by the time the flesh was peaked from teasing and gentle tweaking, the boy’s breathing had grown just a tad more shallow, the muscles in his chest a tad more tense.

It wasn’t very fair, Sanzo reflected, the way privacy came to them in such tiny doses. He didn’t particularly care what other people thought of him, but on the whole it was simply better (and involved less aggravation) if the world at large didn’t know that Goku was more than just another member of the team to him. Most especially when they had been living at Chang’An – he doubted the priests there would have said anything about the action itself, but would have had a thing or two to say about Goku’s age at the time. That wasn’t a problem now, of course; instead he had to deal with Gojyo, and since the priest had to live with the half-demon day in and day out, revealing his under-the-covers relationship with his charge was out of the question. There would be no end to the mockery until he shot the red-head between the eyes, and then the group would be out one mahjongg player. And that wouldn’t do, either.

He moved his palm to the arm the boy had thrown haphazardly across the sheets, up the bicep and down the shoulder to the collarbone, tracing the hollow with calloused fingertips, kissing the skin he could reach when he received another sigh in response. Hakkai’s knowledge, on the other hand, wouldn’t bother him; he sometimes suspected the driver of their party already knew, though Sanzo couldn’t actively think of a time when such information might have slipped out of him or Goku. But the man had an uncanny way of reading people by the things they didn’t say, by the unspoken language of the body. It was entirely possible that Hakkai had known what Sanzo and Goku did behind closed doors ever since the Sanbutsushin had rewarded him with a second chance at life; that really wouldn’t surprise the priest, either. The fact was that the man could keep his opinions to himself, and that was all Sanzo really cared about.

But because he wasn’t about to publicly announce or otherwise display his relationship with Goku, privacy was a thing hard-fought for and dearly won. It had been nearly two weeks since the last time they had gotten a room together, and the time in-between then and now had been excruciating. To say he had been annoyed at Goku’s (and his own) bone-deep exhaustion when they got this room, and the way it interfered with their attempt at love-making, wouldn’t have come close to describing his frustration. Deciding to call it quits after doing little more than removing the younger man’s shirt had not made him happy.

And yet having Goku spooned against him like this, having one arm wrapped around the slim waist and tracing the lines of muscle with his fingertips, drove away the lingering traces of drowsiness. Sanzo was still tired, but the flames of arousal were lazily burning in his groin. He would not allow this precious chance at privacy to pass him by.

Moving in order to prop his head up on his left hand, the blonde priest laid another kiss on the golden-tanned shoulder, lightly flicking his tongue out to taste the flesh. The remnants of sweat still clung to his skin, never truly banished no matter how often he bathed due to their constant exposure to the elements – but the faint tang of salt only emphasized the taste that was uniquely Goku. He was warmer than Sanzo was, despite how close they had been lying, and the older man sought to draw some of the heat into himself with tongue and teeth and lips, gently nipping his way towards the junction of neck and shoulder. There was a slight hitch in breathing when he bit down a little harder on the column of the boy’s throat, an increase of speed in the heart that beat beneath his fingertips and tongue. His sleeping partner shifted, tilting his shoulder down to reveal more of that long neck, stretching out and pressing his hips back into Sanzo’s stomach, but otherwise showed no signs of waking.

I’ll be damned if you manage to sleep all the way through this, Sanzo thought, and sucked Goku’s earlobe into his mouth.

The result was a bit more pronounced this time – the boy inhaled sharply through his nose, lips parting and allowing a barely audible moan to escape when he exhaled again. His ears had always been particularly sensitive, and even the lightest of caresses had a tendency to turn him into putty (or make him try to molest Sanzo on the spot, depending on his mood). The priest found it hard to not smile at how he was squirming, breathing heavily and turning his head to allow Sanzo better access to his ear; the older man could not help but be pleased at the effect he had on Goku’s body, even when asleep.

The fingers of the arm Goku had pillowed under his head twitched slightly when Sanzo abandoned his suckling to draw a wet trail along the outer edge of the ear, brushing lightly against the arm the priest was using to prop himself up. The other hand, thrown away from his body, fisted the loose sheet that was draped over them as Sanzo let his free hand wander back down the wiry frame, ghosting fingertips over tanned skin. The boy had more upper body strength than could easily be seen by the amount of clothing he wore (he would have to, considering the way he managed to crack skulls open and impale demons with a blunt object), and the older man had always enjoyed mapping the solid contours of muscle – the way they moved under the smooth skin, whether Goku was getting dressed or arching under Sanzo’s callused hands.

Those same muscles were reflexively tensing as the priest resumed nibbling on his earlobe, letting a pale hand slide under the sheet and over the flat stomach. Another faint, animalistic whine escaped Goku’s throat when the older man drew a circle around the boy’s belly button and let his hand move further, over the elastic band of the sleeping shorts and down to cup the growing evidence of his arousal.

Goku was hot, the warmth of his body fairly burning Sanzo’s palm as he gave the confined erection a gentle squeeze. The sweat-shorts were loose enough that he could wrap his fingers around the swiftly hardening cock without slipping his hand under the waistband; he did just that, moving away from the reddened earlobe and fastening his lips to the expanse of flesh beneath Goku’s jawbone, nipping and licking at the skin. The boy gasped and arched into the touch, hips thrusting forward into the priest’s grasp. Eyes fluttered under dark-lashed lids, but did not open.

How long can he possibly stay asleep? Sanzo wondered. If their roles had been reversed, he surely would have woken the moment lips were attached to his ear. Of course, it was entirely possible that Goku would stay asleep even if the entire inn were to go up in flames around him – that was part of his (sometimes) adorable charm. And if he wasn’t such a heavy sleeper, Sanzo wouldn’t be able to molest him like he was at the moment...

Careful of how the relatively soft fabric could chafe such delicate parts of the anatomy, the blonde priest gently stroked the younger man through his shorts, eliciting faint whines from the depths of Goku’s throat. The sounds reverberated through Sanzo’s teeth and tongue as he left light blemishes on the back of the boy’s neck, dragging his teeth over the skin and relishing the way Goku’s hips kept brushing back against his stomach. It was all he could do not to grab the brunette and start grinding against him, but he held his own arousal in check. All in good time – the best thing about this relationship was that he never had to worry about walking away from one of these trysts unsatisfied.

Emboldened by his success and by the small pleading noises the boy was making, Sanzo released his grip on the younger man’s erection and moved to slide his hand under the constraining band of Goku’s shorts. He was reminded once again of the intense heat of the boy’s skin as his palm brushed over his lower stomach, his fingers skimming lightly over the incredibly soft flesh of Goku’s cock before taking it in hand.

As it turned out, Goku wasn’t quite as heavy a sleeper as the priest thought.

The younger man’s breath caught just as Sanzo moved to recapture the much-abused earlobe, and then he abruptly jerked into wakefulness, head twitching back and free hand snapping under the light covers to grab Sanzo’s wrist in a brutally tight grasp. The side of Goku’s head ended up colliding with the priest’s teeth and chin, and the resulting jolt had him pulling back with a hiss of pain.

They were both perfectly still for a long, awkward second, before the boy exhaled sharply.

“Sanzo?” he mumbled sleepily.

The man in question ran a tongue over his teeth, testing for blood and pleased that he tasted none. That was what he got for taking liberties, he thought wryly. Better that he had a set of sore front teeth than have his arm ripped off entirely.

“You were expecting someone else?” he murmured in reply, leaning back down to speak directly into Goku’s ear. He got the result he wanted; the younger man shivered as warm breath brushed over the wet trail Sanzo had left over his neck and ear. “Let go of my wrist. I can’t feel my fingers.”

The grip eased immediately, though did not let go entirely. “Sorry,” the brunette apologized. His voice was deeper than normal, gritty and sleep-fogged. It was obvious that he while he was responding to conversation, he was not yet awake enough to be coherent. All the better for Sanzo. “What’s – “

Whatever he had been planning to say disappeared in a soft, wordless moan of approval as Sanzo once more wrapped his fingers around Goku’s erection. Now that there was no more fabric in his way, the older man didn’t worry about remaining gentle, keeping his grip firm and his strokes slow. Goku squirmed under the erotic touch, pulling his hand away from Sanzo’s wrist in order to prevent obstruction, clutching at the sheets beneath them as he struggled not to make too much noise. Under normal circumstances the younger man was able to remain fairly quiet, but he seemed to be having more trouble than usual, what with still being half-asleep. Each breath came as a struggle for him, his chest heaving as he sought to suppress the gasps and needy sounds that each flick of Sanzo’s wrist drew out. The hand pillowed under his head reflexively tangled in the mess of hair at the back of his skull.

Goku’s hips jerked backward when the priest ran his thumb over the head of the cock, smearing a veritable flood of pre-cum; the mewl of pleasure that simple action produced nearly undid the tight control Sanzo had on his own lust. Restraining himself from sinking his teeth into that naked shoulder and rubbing himself against the ass that kept grazing against the skin of his lower belly took a strength of will he was sometimes surprised he had. Nearly everything about Goku screamed sensual to the priest, from the way he fought to the way he moved in bed; now, like many times before, he was reminded of how thankful he was that he had never taken his vows of chastity seriously. To have been saddled with a creature like this and been unable to do anything about his unholy thoughts would have been pure hell.

And it was hell, anyways, even though he could do as he pleased with the younger man; keeping their relationship ‘under the covers,’ as it were, meant that he could not engage in any obvious acts with Goku. And there were some days when all he wanted to do was fuck the boy into the ground in order to escape from the tension of their journey – from the rain, from the insanity, from just about everything. But doing so would have opened them to ridicule from Gojyo, and with the way things were looking it would be years before they got to India. And he just did not want to deal with that crap for so long.

Goku whined again as Sanzo quickened the speed of his strokes, curling up slightly, almost vibrating with the need to achieve climax. The blonde priest could feel the iron tautness of the younger man’s belly every time his knuckles scraped against the smooth skin, felt the muscles jerk every time he slowed the pace or tightened his grasp. The cock was slick and hot in his hand, and the desire to bury himself as deep as he could in that supple body finally over-rode his urge to watch Goku squirm.

Sanzo let go, pushed back the sheet, and sat up.

Not even a second had a chance to pass before an explosive breath escaped the boy.

“Why the hell did you stop?!” he hissed angrily, pushing himself up on one elbow.

“Stop complaining,” the priest murmured in response, leaning over the smaller body in order to grab the bottle of oil and the condom set on Goku’s nightstand, resting his weight on his hip and one hand. Even though the initial plans of their use had been canceled, it appeared that the items’ presence would still be appreciated.

Sanzo didn’t even have a chance to pull back before Goku had tilted his head and nipped at the flesh below one sensitive nipple, drawing a surprised hiss from the older man. His tongue left a wet trail over the pale skin before closing around the hardening nub of flesh, teeth gently tightening down as he began to suckle.

Any other thought process in Sanzo’s mind besides that of sex immediately shut down. The moist lips on his body were far too similar a sensation to the way Goku would suck him off – the way Sanzo could feel his lips curling into a smile even while he was taking the older man’s cock into his mouth, the way he would hum in the back of his throat just as Sanzo was ready to plunge over the edge into orgasm. If his jeans had been snug only a moment before, they were now unbearably tight; he wanted to pull away, to rip the offending clothing off, but the insistence of the boy’s touch was too much to fight.

Goku’s lips left his flesh after far too little time had passed (in Sanzo’s opinion); he could still feel the brunette’s warm breath, tickling the skin over his ribcage. The boy poked the hand that was clenched around the bottle and small packet. “Hurry up,” he murmured impatiently.

It took a second for the priest to re-gather his thoughts from where they had fled to below his navel, long enough for Goku to be smirking up at him by the time he had enough wit to glare down. Even though they had drawn the curtains tight in order to block out the light of the streetlamp just outside their window, enough illumination poured through the cracks to see the face of the boy he was leaning over. And Goku was, on the whole, entirely delicious to look at – lying propped up on his side and twisted slightly to grin at his keeper. Some of his normally messy hair was practically sticking straight out from his head, exposing part of the limiter that was usually hidden from view. His skin was flushed with color, nipples tightly erect, the pupils of his eyes so dilated that the golden iris’ were nearly hidden from view, the waist of his shorts so low down on his lithe hips as to be erotically inappropriate. The marks Sanzo had left on his neck while sleeping were dark against the tawny flesh.

Everything behind the zipper of Sanzo’s jeans strongly agreed with Goku’s urge for haste.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered, and bent down to capture those mocking lips in a forceful kiss.

There was no resistance beneath his questing tongue, the boy’s lips parting immediately to suck the sensitive muscle into his mouth. He tasted like stale chocolate, the treat Hakkai had given him before bed, but Sanzo deepened the kiss as much as he could regardless of his dislike for the sweet. Goku’s tongue was slick-sliding against his own, hot and demanding, battling for dominance even as he deferred to Sanzo’s will. The priest could feel the boy shifting beneath him, trying to roll over onto his back, but he dropped the bottle and packet and put his hand on Goku’s hip to keep him in place. A disgruntled noise managed to rumble in the back of the brunette’s throat; no doubt the position was awkward, practically trying to kiss over his shoulder. And yet the priest couldn’t banish the idea of fucking the younger man like this, on his side with nothing to brace himself against and nothing to hold onto. The mental image alone was nearly enough to make Sanzo start tearing off clothing right there and then.

Goku’s free arm, the one not currently supporting his weight, twisted backward to trail light fingers over Sanzo’s abdomen. The sudden, unexpected contact made the priest pull back slightly, just enough to end the kiss. He could barely make out the pout that crossed the boy’s lips, too close to really focus properly, but the expression did little to catch his attention when cool fingertips slipped under the waistline of his jeans and grazed the very tip of his cock. The touch was electric, hot and cold at the same time, making his hips buck forward of their own accord, desperate to feel that touch again; he hissed and dug his nails into flesh of Goku’s hip. The pout turned into a smirk, and the fingertips withdrew to fumble awkwardly at the button to Sanzo’s jeans.

After the first second passed the boy growled in frustration – but then again, Sanzo was sure even he would have difficulty undoing a jeans’ button behind the back and one-handed. He smirked down at his lover before batting away the eager hand. He received another growl in response.

“You’re pathetic,” he murmured, and sat up on his hip to undo the fly himself. The air was cool on his skin as he unzipped the jeans, and he couldn’t help but shiver.

“A little less conversation,” Goku replied, his voice husky, and hooked his thumb under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down one-handed. Sanzo paused, eyes downcast to watch the way the muscles of younger man’s stomach and thighs contracted as he arched to shed the confining clothing. His erection was dark with blood against the pale linen they were lying on.

He pushed the boy back down when he made to sit up and push the shorts down his legs, ignoring the indignant noise made before dragging the offending cloth off himself. He tossed it away, not even bothering to look where it landed, and returned his attention to the matter of his jeans. The last thing he wanted to do was stand up in order to peel the pants away, reluctant to leave the warmth of the sheets. Instead he settled for yanking them just past his thighs, squirming about on the bed in order to get the material down.

And yet Goku wasn’t so content as to lie and wait for Sanzo to shed his clothing; he sat up again, weight supported on his left arm, and fished about in the covers to find the discarded condom and bottle of oil. “You’re too slow,” he complained, tenor bordering on the side of whining.

“And you’re too noisy,” the priest replied, leaning over to bite the younger man on the back of the neck. Goku hissed in pleasure, letting his head fall forward to give Sanzo complete access to his neck and shoulders. It was tempting to continue nipping at the salty flesh, particularly with the boy so accommodating (which wasn’t very common; Goku always fought for the top, even if he usually lost), but there were other, more pressing parts of his anatomy that called for his attention.

Pants off all the way, the blonde priest decided, and shifted to kick the jeans off entirely.

He could hear the sound of the plastic being ripped open as he threw his clothing off the bed, and almost cursed the boy for his impatience. Almost – but a warm hand on his cock dissuaded his mind from that particular train of thought. Or any thought, period; Sanzo smothered a moan in the back of his throat, relishing the chills that even the lightest of touches sent up his spine. He relinquished a bit of control then, leaning back on his hands and letting Goku smear a bit of oil over his heated flesh before rolling on the condom. He had to bite his lip to keep from making too much noise, and to keep from chastising the boy about his slowness; what was the point of pleading for haste if one was only going to turn around and take his time? But in the same token the priest couldn’t really complain about the way Goku trailed his fingers over the erection, deliberately taking the time to further tease his keeper. His strokes were firm and slow as he added lubricant to the condom, and Sanzo closed his eyes and let his head fall back, losing himself in the erotic sensation.

At least, until Goku let go.

The priest sighed and reopened his eyes, lolling his head on one shoulder to look over at the younger man. “You’re annoying,” he said, in a voice that deliberately sounded bored when in fact he was anything but. “Either do it or don’t. Don’t start with this half-assed shit.”

Goku only smiled, wide lips looking all the more enticing with that almost-innocent, almost-seductive smirk on them. Sanzo wanted very much to pin the boy down and take control over that mouth again, but the youth rolled onto his knees and straddled the older man’s thighs before he could act on his desires. One calloused hand came up to brace on Sanzo’s shoulder, still cool and slick with oil, the other reaching down so that Goku could effectively guide himself onto the priest’s erection.

There was something undeniably alluring by Goku’s submission this night; while their roles in the bedroom were fairly well-defined (though not so rigid as to discourage experimentation), it wasn’t very often that the younger man gave in without any kind of bid for control. True, he was making the attempt to gain the upper hand, to dominate while being dominated, but the wanton way in which he was practically demanding to be fucked was uncommon. Goku simply wasn’t the type to fall on his back and spread his legs, but one of these days Sanzo would find an inn that had a bed with a headboard he could tie the youth to – if only so he would have a chance to molest the boy good and proper without any resistance at all.

In fact, the idea of Goku being pinned beneath him and unable to resist was a very appealing mental image – even more so than watching the younger man impale himself on Sanzo’s cock. Much, much more appealing.

Sanzo quickly shifted his weight onto one hand, reaching forward and grabbing Goku’s wrist before any contact could be achieved; the younger man paused and glanced up at him from under tousled bangs, a clearly confused expression on his face. “What – ?”

The frame of the bed squeaked loudly as the priest heaved himself upward, rolling the boy onto his back and pinning the captured wrist above his head. The other hand tightened on Sanzo’s shoulder, and his knees locked around the blonde’s hips in an unconscious effort to latch onto something. Everything he had been planning on saying rushed out in a surprised huff of breath, eyes widening at the unexpected action.

Sanzo braced himself on the arm that was holding Goku down, smirking at the expression. “Don’t look so surprised,” he said, slipped a hand down the back of Goku’s thigh to coax the legs to relax, and thrust deep inside his lover.

A strangled gasp escaped the younger man, his back arching up off the mattress, head tilting back and eyes rolling closed. It was all the monk could do not to close his eyes as well; the sensation of heat that surrounded him, tight and soft and oh... He pulled out halfway and thrust in again, more gently this time, pausing to cup the smooth plane of Goku’s ass, biting his lip and relishing the soft groan that the boy was simply unable to contain. Wiry legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, and golden eyes slit open to stare upward, clouded with unmistakable lust.

“Don’t stop,” Goku whispered, tugging at the hand that held his wrist pinned to the bed.

The priest obliged, keeping the pace slow at first, forcing back his own physical desires in order to watch the younger man writhe beneath him. Try as he might, Goku was incapable of keeping his eyes open; he tried to lock gazes with Sanzo, but with every thrust his eyelids fluttered closed, lips parting in soft, panting moans. He was much closer to release than the blonde, due to the previous ministrations, but that was the very reason why Sanzo went as slow as he was able – the longer he could watch the pliant, tawny creature arch in pleasure and try to suppress his pleading whimpers, the better.

He shifted his weight again, leaning on his elbow, and the new angle brought Goku’s erection snug against his stomach. The boy hissed and tried to pull his hand away again, but Sanzo tightened his grip, liking the feel of the bones shifting under pressure. The younger man was by far the stronger of the two, more than capable of breaking this hold if he wanted to; everything that happened in this room, in any bed they inhabited, happened because Goku wanted it to – and the knowledge that such a strong person was deliberately submitting to Sanzo’s will was heady, to say the least. It was incredibly erotic.

Sanzo leaned down to gently nip at the boy’s lower lip, thrusting at such an angle that Goku’s erection would continue brushing against his stomach. This earned him another gasp, and the fingers of his lover’s free hand curled around the back of his neck to pull him down for a proper kiss. The faint flavor of chocolate again assaulted him, but it was far less distasteful with Goku hot and tight around his cock, moaning and sucking hard on his tongue. The air was becoming almost uncomfortably warm, heated by their love-making – but the priest couldn’t bring himself to care, couldn’t be bothered about sweat or discomfort when there was this exquisite friction between them, when mind-blowing release was coming ever closer and Goku’s hand was sliding down between them –

He made a discouraging noise in the back of his throat, twisting to grab the offending appendage and being forced to end the kiss and stop all movement in order to keep his balance. An inarticulate sound escaped the youth, desperate and vaguely disgruntled; he ignored the sound and the hungry expression as he pinned this hand above Goku’s head as well.

“Sanzo,” he breathed, pushing against the restraint of Sanzo’s hands without making a real effort to free himself. The look of raw need in Goku’s eyes, the kiss-darkened lips, the way his bangs were beginning to stick to his skin, the thighs that tightened around Sanzo’s waist, all contributed to the consuming desire that was beginning to completely unravel the older man. “Please... I can’t... “

He ended any further conversation with a sharp thrust of his hips, the boy crying out with the sudden intensity of pleasure. Sanzo no longer cared if the walls were as thin as paper, if Gojyo and Hakkai’s room was just two doors down; it had been a long time since they’d had enough privacy where noise was not a problem, where they hadn’t needed to modulate the sounds of their sex. He wasn’t in the mood to expend energy on anything other than making Goku scream.

There was no more real thought after that, no intellectual observation of the events; there was nothing but the feel of Goku’s cock against his stomach, the feel of Goku tilting his hips to meet every thrust and grind himself against his keeper, the intense heat that burned in his loins and spread through his veins, the sweet hurt in the muscles of his abdomen as he pushed himself as deep into the brunette as he could. If Goku made an effort to muffle his cries once the pace increased, Sanzo could hear no sign of it; with every hard thrust another moan or whimper or keening gasp for breath was torn from him. The creaking of the bed frame as it thumped against the wall was loud enough that it could be heard even over the frantic noises of the younger man.

The priest was incapable of remaining completely quiet himself, not with the way Goku kept twisting in his grasp, sweat on the palms of his hands allowing the boy to finally slip out of the hold and twine his arms around Sanzo’s neck, digging his blunt fingernails into the muscles between the older man’s shoulder blades. He pressed up against the blonde, closing any further distance between them, breath hot on Sanzo’s neck as sharp teeth bit down on the column of his throat; the line between pain and passion was so blurred that even though it stung enough to make the priest wonder if Goku had drawn blood, he couldn’t hold back a groan of pleasure.

“Harder,” the brunette panted against Sanzo’s collarbone, although in reality the blonde didn’t have the right angle to pound any harder into the younger man. “Gods... I... “

He shut the boy up with a fierce kiss, pressing him back against the mattress, swallowing the fevered moans and muffling his own against the bittersweet taste of Goku’s mouth. Calloused fingers curled in the hair at the nape of Sanzo’s neck, lean thighs tightened around his waist, and abruptly the lithe body arched beneath him before the boy ripped his lips away with an anguished cry of release. Hot fluid spilled between them as Goku finally reached his peak, cock throbbing against Sanzo’s stomach from the force of orgasm.

Sanzo didn’t slow his pace, even as the younger man came down from that impossible high and sobbed for breath, still wringing out hoarse whines of pleasure and pain with every hard thrust. His own release was right there, right there, so close and just out of reach, buried deep in the body of the boy beneath him – and then Goku did something, Sanzo was never sure quite what, drawing his knees up higher and tightening –

And his climax hit him in a numbing rush, setting his nerves on fire and stealing the air from his lungs, making him clench his fists in the sheets beneath them and forcing a strangled groan from his throat. Everything was white behind his eyelids, electricity singing through his veins and roaring in his ears and deafening him to everything except Goku’s quieting whimpers as the tension of the nights events flowed out of him.

Without the sounds of their passion and the creaking of the bed as it slammed against the wall, the inn room was almost eerily silent. Sanzo rested his forehead on the mattress beside Goku’s head and struggled to regain his breath.

The burning fatigue of completion stole through his muscles as they relaxed again, tangled around one another, rapid heartbeats slowing and synchronizing. It was a good burn, though, the kind that left a faint tremor in the limbs that was more felt than seen; his arms felt like they were ready to collapse on the little weight they were holding up. Goku’s hands began to trail absent designs across his neck and shoulders, a soothing massage that threatened to send him into the oblivion of sleep. But the legs wrapped around his waist were trembling as well, and the priest didn’t think his lover would appreciate having someone fall asleep on him in this position.

Sanzo pushed himself up slightly, pulling away from the boy’s loose hold. The air that moved back in between their bodies was cool, and he was unable to repress a shiver. Goku stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, a lazy and definitely satisfied smile hovering at the edges of his lips.

“You should wake me up like this more often,” he murmured.

The blonde snorted at the statement, leaning down to brush his lips lightly against the corner of his charge’s mouth before starting to disengage from their embrace. Goku unlocked his ankles somewhat reluctantly, a sigh escaping him as Sanzo pulled out as gently as possible, and let his arms fall back to the mattress only once the older man was out of reach; Sanzo made no move to leave the bed, kneeling between the younger man’s legs and resting a hand lightly on one of the knees that had until recently been digging into his ribs.

If it wasn’t for the fact that his libido had been satisfactorily assuaged, the priest would have been aroused again by the sight of the boy laid out before him. It sometimes amazed him how oblivious Goku was to his own sexual appeal – dark lashed eyes closed over flushed cheeks, well-muscled chest and stomach rising and falling in a rhythm still too fast for sleep, glistening with the evidence of his orgasm. His head was turned to the side, heartbeat easily seen in the long line of his throat, one hand curled up by his chin while the other was resting on the curve between hip and thigh.

Very glad I’m a bad Buddhist, Sanzo thought in that moment.

One eye opened after a moment when there was no further movement, peering down at the man still kneeling between his legs. A faint line furrowed between his brows. “What?” Goku asked, looking either unnerved or confused by the older man’s blatant staring.

He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips at that moment, pleased at the high flush on his lover’s cheeks, the still-rapid pulse evident just below the jaw line, the slightly swollen lips. “Nothing,” he replied, and gave the upraised knee a nudge before swinging his legs off the bed and carefully removing the used condom. “You need to wash up.”

An ill-concealed groan escaped the boy still on the bed. “I can’t,” he said, slipping back in whine mode. “I can’t feel my legs. You broke me.”

Another snort escaped the priest, more amused than the last one. He tossed the condom in the wastebasket on his side of the bed, arching his spine and feeling the ache of well-used muscles in his lower back and stomach. It hurt, but he relished the pain nonetheless. “Shut up. I did all the work.”

“Mm-hm.” The bed frame creaked behind him as Goku finally sat up. “I guess I can’t help being lazy when I’ve got you to do all the work for me.”

That bland statement was almost enough to make him laugh. He settled for turning and swatting the boy on the shoulder before rising to his feet. His thighs hurt, too, though he doubted they would hurt as much as Goku’s once morning rolled around. “Get up. And pull those sheets off while you’re at it.”

He could hear the younger man doing as requested as he padded into the adjacent bathroom to shower. Goku joined him after a few minutes, which probably wasn’t the best of ideas when the younger man pinned him to the wall of the shower and proceeded to suck him off. Forty-five minutes and untold gallons of water later he finally managed to wrestle them back into bed, even more exhausted than before but definitely satisfied. He was too tired to care when Hakkai woke them the next morning, Goku spooned against his back and the rumpled blankets kicked off the bed, although later he was glad that he had the foresight to dress (and to force his young lover to dress as well) before falling asleep again.

In fact, he was too tired to manage any sharp insults when Gojyo finally wandered down to the inn’s restaurant, nursing a vicious hangover and far too late to steal any breakfast (or the promised extra chocolate) from the bottomless pit they called Goku. Hakkai only smiled and offered a few pills and a cup of tea, though the half-breed turned down the tea on the basis that anything that smelled remotely like food turned his stomach. On the one hand, it pleased Sanzo that Gojyo had been too shit-faced to hear what had gone in the priest’s bedroom after midnight; on the other hand, it would have been too much to ask that Hakkai had not heard it as well, but the gentle driver of their caravan never said a word or showed any expression that might have indicated he did, not even in the brief moment before Goku came downstairs when the green-eyed man returned the heavenly charge card. He probably had, but was too tactful to bring the subject up.

A few hours later and he settled himself in the passenger seat of Hakkai’s dragon-turned-jeep, adjusting the high neck of his shirt for the umpteenth time, though he knew the leather more than adequately covered the bruise Goku had left him. He almost had drew blood with that one; the next time they had a chance at privacy, Sanzo thought wryly, he would make a point to remind the young man that he in no way resembled (or tasted) like a meatbun.

The vehicle shuddered beneath him as the boy in question dropped one of their jugs of water into the back seat.

“Hakkai says that we’ll reach another town tomorrow,” Goku said. “But we’ll have to rough it tonight.”

Sanzo grunted in reply, tucking his hands in his sleeves and not bothering to turn around. The chance to sleep in a real bed was one not to take lightly – such chances came fewer and farther between the further west they went. Some day soon they would be going weeks between civilized areas, if one could count a sparsely populated farming village as ‘civilized,’ and only the gods knew how they were going to keep themselves in food once that time came.

Until then, though...

He sensed, more than heard, the young man come up to his side of the jeep, and wasn’t entirely surprised when hot breath tickled his ear, teeth briefly capturing his earlobe in a teasing nip. He drew in a sharp breath through his nose and closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow night,” Goku murmured in his ear, voice dark with promise, “I’m going to be on top.”

He could hear the door of the inn slam open, the scuffle of more than one pair of feet, Gojyo’s normally easygoing voice pitched higher that usual in a pitiful whine. His lover pulled away, leaving the whole side of his body tingling with the boy’s once-presence, and he felt the jeep shudder again as the second of their water jugs was heaved into the back. He didn’t open his eyes when he felt the vehicle dip beneath Gojyo’s weight.

“Well then,” Hakkai said brightly as he seated himself and clicked on his seat belt. “This looks like a promising day. Did you sleep well last night, Sanzo?”

It was difficult to keep his lips from slipping into a smirk, but he managed it, somehow. “No,” he replied. “The monkey kept me up with his snoring. I had to smother him with his pillow before he would stop.”

“I don’t snore,” Goku replied indignantly as he climbed into the back. “Gojyo snores.”

“Gojyo is going to kill someone if you don’t all shut up,” the red-head said tersely. “My fucking head is killing me.”

“Your face is killing me,” the younger of the two in the back cracked, which started their usual start-of-the-day bickering.

As Sanzo curled his fingers around the gun shoved up his sleeve, considering the proper time to bring its ‘calming’ force into play, Hakkai started the engine and headed towards the exit of the last town they’d see for the day. But it wasn’t so bad – sleeping outside on a regular basis only made him appreciate his few nights under a ceiling all the more, especially when he knew those sporadic ceilings would someday disappear. Someday soon enough there wouldn’t be any more chances to share a room (and a bit of privacy) with his energetic lover.

But until then... he would just have to take advantage of every inn room he could get.

Sanzo smiled at the thought of the inn they would reach the following day, and settled back in his seat for the ride.




And here I bet you were hoping you\'d get to see some candy come into play. FOOLED YOU! XD!