Good Fortune | By : Jedishampoo Category: Gensomaden Saiyuki > Yaoi - Male/Male > Sanzo/Gojiyo Views: 1315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Gensomaden Saiyuki. I made no money writing this work of fan fiction. |
Title: Good Fortune
Author: jedishampoo
Pairing: Gojyo/Sanzo
Rating: NC-l7
Summary: Gojyo and Sanzo’s woodland critter encounter. Warning for silly.
Author’s Notes: For kansouame
and her prompt of: Gojyo and Sanzo, stuck out in the woods, out of smokes, lost,
it's cold out and...make me
laugh. really hot sex would be nice too.
Rabid raccoons are included... sorta. Thanks to sharpeslass for the beta. About 3100 words.
The only thing Sanzo could do was follow the creek and hope it would eventually
lead back to the road, and, from there, to Jeep, Hakkai and Goku.
It was night, so there was no sun to give direction. It was cloudy, so there
were no stars. It was fucking cold as hell. Moonlight diffused through and
bounced around under the clouds, turning them silver and everything on the
ground a grayish-black, but there was nothing to see. Only
the skinny little creek at his feet, steep, muddy banks on either side, and
trees and thick bushes above. And in front of him, Gojyo’s back. Of
course it would have to have been Gojyo…
Gojyo halted a few steps ahead of Sanzo. He put his hands on his hips and
looked around. “Hold up for a mo, Sanzo. I think I recognize this spot.”
Sanzo didn’t. “Shut up. If I weren’t so pissed off, I could find my own way
back.”
“Yeah. Ri-ight,” Gojyo drawled. “Like
you weren’t the one knocked out and slung over that horse-dude’s back like a
captive fucking princess.”
“Fuck you. I didn’t ask for your help,” Sanzo said. He kept walking,
because he wanted to keep moving. It was a damp-cold kind of autumn night, the
kind that promised rain at any time, the kind in which Sanzo most hated to be
stuck outside.
Gojyo only smirked as Sanzo passed him, and plopped his rear down on a
tree-trunk that had fallen creekside.
“Wonder what they woulda done to you if Prince
Charming-- me, ya know-- hadn’t shown up to rescue
you?” Sanzo heard the snick of a lighter, and Gojyo’s chuckling.
Sanzo skidded to a stop, boots crunching on gravel and branches. He stuck his
hand in his robe and then remembered that he didn’t have his gun. It’d been
dropped when he’d been knocked unconscious. Neither did he
have any smokes or his lighter or compass or even his fan-- when he’d
been turned upside-down, apparently his robe had been emptied like he was a
debtor being shaken down by the town thugs.
There was only himself and the sutra. That
wouldn’t help with directions but it might kill Gojyo. Perhaps he should give
it a try…
He swiveled and stomped back to Gojyo’s perch, thinking maybe a fist to the
chin would be sufficient to shut Gojyo’s trap. Before he could even swing,
however, he caught a whiff of Gojyo’s last smoke-filled exhale.
Sanzo’s lungs expanded on their own, begging for
nicotine. It had been a few hours since his last smoke. He was desperate.
“Give me one of those,” he ordered.
“Screw you. This is my next to last one.” Gojyo grinned at him with white
teeth.
Sanzo waited until Gojyo had stuck his cigarette back in his mouth, and then
grabbed it and shoved it between his own lips. He backed a couple of steps out
of Gojyo’s radius and inhaled. It tasted like shitty Hi-Lites.
Like smoking air. It tasted marvelous.
“You asshole!”
Sanzo dodged Gojyo’s grasping hand. “’S all wet. You
drool when you smoke?”
Brrrrip!
“Only when I’m thinking about you, sweetheart. Gimme--”
Brrrrip! Chrrriiip!
“What the hell is that? Gimme that back.”
“I’m not your sweetheart, cockroach.” Sanzo swung a fist to keep Gojyo away and
glanced around for the source of the strange noise.
“Brrrrip!”
They both spotted it at the same time. It was striped-brown, furry, and about
knee-high to Sanzo. It stood at the end of Gojyo’s fallen tree and regarded
them with huge, friendly, black-ringed eyes.
“What the hell is that?” Gojyo repeated, forgetting his cigarette for a
moment. His fingers twitched as if he was considering calling the shaku-jou. However, the critter-- whatever it was-- didn't
look menacing. It only chirruped and watched them with its gleaming, happy
eyes. “A kind of dog?”
“Raccoon?” Sanzo suggested. It was vaguely raccoon-ish.
Except for the--
“Holy shit, look at the size of its balls!” Gojyo cried.
Sanzo didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. One couldn’t help noticing them. The
animal had the most enormous testicles-- or somethings--
hanging between its legs, dragging on the ground. It was practically sitting on
them. A memory trickled through Sanzo’s brain. Koumyou
had enjoyed reading and learning about rare creatures, and had enjoyed sharing
that knowledge with Kouryuu.
“Tanuki,” Sanzo said, and took another drag off
Gojyo’s cigarette. “That’s what it’s called. I think. It’s harmless. I think.”
“Doesn’t look nasty. Except for those-- hey, well,
it’s kinda cute.”
“They’re good luck.” Sanzo realized that he hadn’t specified what
was good luck, the animal or its balls, and then realized that it didn’t
matter. He smoked and watched as the tanuki-probably
shuffled a few steps forward, careful of dragging its nether parts, to sit near
Gojyo’s boots. It reached out a little black paw and skritched
gently at Gojyo’s pants.
“Whaddya want, you freaky lil’ fella?”
Keeping a hand on Gojyo’s knee, the tanuki climbed up
on the fallen tree to snuggle next to Gojyo.
“Brrrrip, Chirrup?” it said, plastering itself to
Gojyo’s thigh and staring into Gojyo’s eyes.
“Hey, I think he likes me!”
“Don’t know why,” Sanzo said, and dropped the smoking butt of Gojyo’s-- his--
cigarette onto the creekside gravel. If Hi-Lites tasted bad, their filters tasted even worse. Still,
it had been worth every horrible puff.
“Maybe it’s cold.” Gojyo’s arm hovered above the animal for a moment or two, then he patted it on the head, gently.
“Or hungry. It has fur,” Sanzo said, then watched as
the tanuki burrowed itself a little into the folds of
Gojyo’s jacket. Shit, maybe it was cold. Sanzo sure as hell was.
And Gojyo was unnaturally warm, Sanzo remembered. It was one of Gojyo’s few
redeeming qualities. In certain situations.
The animal had stopped brrriping and was
making a contented-sounding humming noise, while it stared adoringly up into
Gojyo’s face. Gojyo looked equally adoring, was patting the damned thing on the
back and making clicking noises deep in his throat. It was sickening.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Sanzo said and took a few steps back the way
they’d originally been headed. He halted again when he heard Gojyo start
bitching.
“Hey, keep your balls off the leather. Hey! Wait a minute. Give those back--”
Sanzo turned and saw the tanuki jumping off of
Gojyo’s lap, a lighter and a nearly-empty pack of cigarettes clenched in its
tiny claws. The animal did something-- it looked like it bowed, though
that would have been impossible-- and with a final brrrrip!
brrrrip! and a wave and squeak at Gojyo, it scurried off with
surprising speed up the steep wall lining one side of the creek. Sanzo would
have laughed darkly at the stupefied expression on Gojyo’s face, but he’d just
realized something.
“Did that thing really take our last cigarette?” he asked, in some alarm.
Gojyo nodded. “My last cigarette, and yeah, it did. Not
such good luck, ya stupid priest.”
Sanzo huffed. His lungs and bloodstream were already bemoaning the lack of any
possible nicotine in the immediate future. And he still had no idea where they
were. The next half-horse-half-youkai Sanzo saw, he’d shoot it before it could
ever get a whack at him. The appearance of the damned thing had stupefied all
of them-- Goku especially-- and the crowd of youkai had gotten the drop on
them. Gojyo had said they were mostly dead by the time he’d left to look for
Sanzo, but that didn’t help Sanzo now. “Any luck it had would have been
canceled by you. You’re nothing but trouble-bait.”
Gojyo ignored the insult. He was still staring at the creature’s little
claw-marks in the muddy bank. “Huh. That was kind of… well, it was kind of
special.” His voice trailed off. “And fucked up.”
“A special kind of fucked-up,” Sanzo said, and started walking along the creek,
yet again.
Shit, it was cold. Sanzo shivered. There was the sound of scuffling
gravel behind him and then Sanzo felt an arm cut across his front, and the
warmth of Gojyo pressed all along his back.
“Cold, princess?” That was Gojyo’s hot breath in his
ear, making Sanzo’s entire body shiver again.
Gojyo was a lumbering idiot but he was always fucking warmer than hell. It may
have been a redeeming quality but that didn’t mean Sanzo couldn’t be pissed off
about it. He’d made the mistake of griping about it once, when Gojyo had
happened to be very close, closer than now. As a result, Sanzo’d had to endure Gojyo’s idiotic blather about
hot-blooded sex-machines and whatever-the-fuck, until Sanzo had pointed out
that Goku was the same way. That had shut Gojyo up for a while, while he
tried to decide if Sanzo had meant that the way it sounded. He hadn’t, but
Gojyo didn’t have to know that.
Sanzo rammed an elbow back into Gojyo’s gut. Anger could keep him plenty warm.
And he wasn’t in the mood. Necessarily.
“I’m fine. Get the hell off me.”
Gojyo’s other arm curled around Sanzo, pulling him even closer to that idiotic,
lumbering, warm-as-hell body.
“Wanna fuck?”
“Fuck, no,” Sanzo said, and bent his arm to give Gojyo another shot to the
spleen. Gojyo just squeezed.
“Come on, nothin’ else to do until Hakkai and the
monkey find us. Besides, it seems like it might be good luck.”
“Did that thing take your last brain-cell, too?” Sanzo said,
a little worried. Because what Gojyo had said had actually made sense,
of a bizarre, moronic sort. The subconscious knew too many things that the
waking brain couldn’t always ignore.
“Been awhile…” One of Gojyo’s gigantic hands crept down to rub between Sanzo’s
legs. Sanzo’s subconscious answered with a dick-twitch.
Hell, hell hell. Oh, what the hell. They were
alone-- except for any unseen woodland critters-- and that didn’t happen too
often. Not that Sanzo wanted it to, but still. They were lost. They had no
lighters to make fire, no gun to advertise their location. They had no
cigarettes. Their luck couldn’t get any worse. And at least it would keep him
warm.
Sanzo jerked himself around in the circle of Gojyo’s arms and shoved until
Gojyo stumbled backwards, off-balance. Sanzo kicked him in the stomach and he
went down onto his ass with an oof.
A second later Sanzo followed, straddling Gojyo and shoving their groins
together. There was a suspiciously solid lump in the front of Gojyo’s jeans--
he was already hard. Not that Sanzo wasn’t close.
“Pushy damned monk-- oh!”
Sanzo had thrust his hands under Gojyo’s white shirt, warming his cold fingers
on that hot, hot skin.
“Ohh, yeahhh….” Gojyo sighed.
He clenched Sanzo’s hips and pulled and pushed, back and forth, fingers digging
into Sanzo’s skin through his jeans.
A few more grinds on both sides, and Sanzo could feel the sweat break on his
forehead, along his breastbone, feel a trickling heat and throb in his gut that
banished the cold damp surrounding them. Another of Gojyo’s redeeming
qualities-- he was a good fuck. He just bragged about it too much.
Good thing he knew when to keep his mouth shut about things that weren’t
anybody else’s business. “Get my jeans,” Sanzo ordered.
“Sure thing. Pushy damned monk,” Gojyo repeated, but
in a breathier, lower voice that spoke to every sensual hormone in Sanzo’s
body. Gojyo fumbled open the button and zipper of Sanzo’s jeans and Sanzo
lifted himself onto his knees so Gojyo could yank them down. He let them get
halfway to his knees before he sank down again, bare-assed, onto Gojyo’s
thighs.
“Take those off, why don’tcha?” Gojyo suggested.
“No. Too damned cold.”
Gojyo was good: he didn’t argue further, just reached between Sanzo and jeans
and into Sanzo’s robe to squeeze his dick while Sanzo tore open the buttons to
Gojyo’s pants. He was really, really good: Sanzo lost focus while those long,
callused fingers squeezed his cock in time with his thumping pulse, in time
with both their breaths.
Sanzo opened his eyes when the stroking fingers left him cold. Gojyo had arched
his back and was pushing his own pants down over his hips.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sanzo snipped.
“C’mon, Sanzo…” Gojyo’s voice was hoarse, his breath puffing little clouds into
the heavy air between them. He grabbed Sanzo’s cock again and clenched it
against his own, dry throbbing flesh on flesh. Sanzo lost concentration again.
At some point he sort of fell forward, digging his hands into the pebbly ground
and into Gojyo’s hair spread out on it. He closed his eyes and breathed, let
his hips sway with Gojyo’s fingers…he barely even spared a thought as to how
he’d been convinced so easily that this was a good idea.
“Oi! Sanzo.”
Something bumped Sanzo on the chin. Sanzo opened his eyes again to see a little
tube of lubricant hovering in the air somewhere around his lips. Good thing
the animal hadn’t cleaned Gojyo out completely. Further focus revealed
Gojyo’s fingers holding it, and beyond that, Gojyo’s desperate eyes. “Who’s gettin’ it?”
“Nobody’s getting it, if you don’t shut up.” Sanzo propped himself on one hand
and snatched the tube from Gojyo’s fingers with the other. He flipped the top
off and squirted some into the air.
“Damned monk,” Gojyo said, not shutting up as ordered. “You’re gettin’ gravel in it. Kinky, but not if
it’s goin’ in my ass.”
“Tch.” Sanzo looked at his palm. Bits of dirt
and sharp pebbles were pressed into his skin. Fine.
He wiped his hand on Gojyo’s shirt, then sort of
squirted the bottle in the general direction of their dicks. It went on warm
and cooled in the damp air, joining Gojyo’s stroking, squeezing fingers,
coating everything with slippery, tactile bliss.
“Whatever you’re doin’, hurry it up, Sanzo.” A low
moan hovered behind Gojyo’s words. His eyes were half-shut, sensual.
“Yeah…” Sanzo felt desperate, throbbing, too. There was no way to get
Gojyo’s legs… screw it. Sanzo leaned forward, then back, holding Gojyo’s
hard, thick cock steady so he could slide down…
“Oh, yeahhh…” Gojyo breathed, rolling his head back
in obvious ecstasy. He twined fingers in Sanzo’s hair, pulling at it, pulling
Sanzo down. The feel of Gojyo’s dick inside him, stretching, burrowing, finding
that spot all on its own, had almost blurred out the pain of Sanzo’s
near-concussion. Almost. Sanzo’s belly tightened, and Gojyo groaned and yanked harder at Sanzo’s
hair.
“Ow! Dammit.”
“You okay?”
“No. You’re pulling my brains out of my skull,” Sanzo told him.
“Oh, sorry.” Gojyo’s fingers gentled in an instant--
how did he do that?-- and slid down to brush his thumb
under Sanzo’s earlobe, then down his neck and chest. Then his hands were on
Sanzo’s ass, sliding up and down, groping skin wherever he could find it.
Sanzo arched his back and moved, moved in that humid bubble of warmth and
flesh, following the orders of every bundle of nerves in his body, the ones
telling him to go, go. Gojyo moved with him, hips undulating off the
ground with muscular grace.
“Ah,” Sanzo said, and found a pace, then waited for Gojyo to catch up, which he
did-- he always did, he certainly knew how to screw. Sanzo barely wondered at
his own urgency. The forest wasn’t going anywhere, only he was, his brain
blurring into dysfunction while his body worked.
“Hah,” Gojyo said, and flattened his palm over Sanzo’s cock where it was
pressed against his stomach.
“Ah,” Sanzo said, as Gojyo’s dick and hand jostled at all his most vulnerable
spots at once, sending his nerves racing to his belly, tensing all his muscles
to that tight edge--
“Ah! That’s good, Sanzo,” Gojyo was mumbling. “Ah! Sanzo, I-- ah-- still
can’t get over that thing’s balls--”
“Shit!” Sanzo’s own testicles clenched, sending the tight to grip his dick and yank
and he came, spurting onto Gojyo’s gravel-and lube-stained shirt and his own
jeans.
“Hell, yeah. Whatta
thought,” Gojyo huffed, and yanked at Sanzo’s boneless hips a time or two more
before his thighs jerked and he expelled one last, long, ahhhh
of white breath into the air.
Sanzo took barely a moment or two to catch his breath before sitting up and
rolling off Gojyo. He dug automatically in his robe and found only empty
pockets where all his stuff should have been.
“Tch,” he said, jumping to his feet to pull up his
jeans. What a thought to come to, indeed. He wondered if he’d ever be
able to erase it from his mind. “You’re a fucking pervert. And I don’t have any
smokes.”
“Hoo!”
Gojyo must have felt the slap of cold air; he wriggled his own jeans up his
hips and buttoned them before climbing to his feet. “Sucks, don’t it? Maybe if you hadn’t wasted my last one-- and who are you callin’ a pervert? I got your evidence right here on
my clothes--”
Brrrrip! Snick.
“Tch,” Sanzo said again, ignoring Gojyo. He reached
for his gun, again a split-second before realizing that it wasn’t there.
“Chirrup!”
Sanzo and Gojyo both looked up to see the raccoon-dog-animal from before,
sitting on the edge of the cliff-bank a few feet above their eye-level.
“That thing’s the damned pervert. It was watching or somethin’,”
Gojyo said, and pointed up at it. His shaku-jou
materialized in his outstretched hand. “Give me back my cigarette, you sick
little bastard.”
Sanzo smelled smoke a half-second before the creature flicked its paw, tossing
a lit cigarette at them. There was a general scramble, but Sanzo reached it
first. His brain registered that it was indeed one of Gojyo’s shitty Hi-Lites before he stuck it between his lips and took a deep
drag of that horrible, marvelous Hi-Lite smoke.
“Hey!”
There was a final brrrip and a rustling of
branches, and the thing was gone again.
Sanzo managed not to laugh, again. He was just glad he had a cigarette and he
wasn’t annoyed any more. For the moment. There was no
better revenge on Gojyo than watching his stunned face as he disappeared
the shaku-jou and turned despairing eyes on Sanzo.
“At least give me a puff, asshole,” Gojyo mumbled, stepping forward.
Sanzo took a long, deep drag, then yanked Gojyo close by his shirt. He
plastered his mouth against Gojyo’s and shoved his tongue inside, then exhaled.
Gojyo was good: he only choked a little before kissing Sanzo back.
“Sanzooooooo! Gojyoo! Sanzooooooo!”
It was Goku. Sanzo decided he’d had enough of Gojyo, anyway. For
one night. He pulled away and shoved the cigarette filter between
Gojyo’s lips. Gojyo grinned at him.
“There’s your damned shitty cigarette. Now stop talking to me,” Sanzo said. He
yelled in the direction from which they’d heard Goku’s voice. “We’re down here,
Monkey. Where the hell are you?”
“Whatta thought,” Gojyo mumbled, and started climbing
the cliffs. Sanzo ignored him and dreamed of his Marlboros.
End.
Thanks for reading!
Note: You can read about tanukis on wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanuki). I did!
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