BY : blownwish
Category: Gensomaden Saiyuki > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 695
Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki and made no money writing this.

I don’t own Saiyuki and made no money writing this.


“You have quite a way about you, Sanzo. I suppose I must seem a little forward. Perhaps so. Excuse my western ways. I’m just a traveler, much obliged to meet a fellow traveler such as yourself.”

“You talk alot.” He shifts. He stares off into the starry night, like he’s looking for something out there. Like he’s always been looking, and he’s used to not finding it. “Is there a point to all this?” Meanwhile the fingers on his wrist had moved up, ever so slowly, in small circular motions.

“You’ve probably been told you’re a very attractive man, many times. And I reckon your friends have probably made you more than aware of it?” The circles kept moving up, and up under Sanzo’s robe. When that hand reached his elbow, Hazel smiled. “I take your passivity as a good sign. Please understand, I know how you must feel. A man of the cloth cannot be steered from his mission by mere, shall we say, deviant indulgences. But I will assure you my interest is brotherly.”

Sanzo sipped his beer. Smoked his cigarette. Stared at the stars as if he was so close to finding that lost something. Stared as if the hand was not even there. “Are you done, yet?”

“Talking?” Hazel sighed. “Perhaps. But let me say this. I know what it’s like to lose someone. Someone very dear.” He paused. “And you do, too.”

Sanzo turned his head.

“Ah. I was right.” Hazel smiled. It was the kind of smile Sanzo thought he would never see again. That gentle, far away smile. He thought it had disappeared that night, so long ago, and that he would never find it again. But there it was, on this guy. Of all guys.

“Lucky guess.”

“Maybe so.” His fingers cupped Sanzo’s elbow. Easily, so easily. “After all, many’ve lost loved ones to monsters.” He leaned forward and blocked Sanzo’s view of the stars. “But, my dear friend, do very many people take up arms, like us two?”

Sanzo looked down at his robe, that spot covering the connection between them. “What do you want?”

Hazel’s hand moved up. “You know. I’ve given you my proposal.”

“Team up?” Sanzo ground out his cigarette. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t break my heart.” Hazel was close enough to feel Sanzo’s breath hiss across his cheek. It was hot, hard breath, as if he’d been running. “I know how you feel. All this searching.” Close enough to feel the flinch as that hand gripped Sanzo’s shoulder. “Wanting.” Close enough to see the glaze in those eyes as one knee pushed up into those chaste, chaste robes. “Needing. See, I know what it’s like to need. And I knew you’d understand. I saw the look in your eyes when I talked about my Master. And I knew right then and there I’d found my kindred.” Close enough to hear that sad, soft moan no one ever heard because they had never been this close to Sanzo. This close to his deepest wound.

Hazel pulled him into this arms, and kissed him. Gently. Softly. “Think about it.” It was a quiet whisper against trembling lips.

“Oh.” Sanzo’s voice cracked. For a moment he stared at Hazel, at that smile, and for a moment, just one moment, he leaned forward.

And stopped, when Hazel put a finger against his lips. “Like I said, think about it.” Then he went away.

Sanzo stood there, watching him walk away, but not without looking back and tipping his hat. He did not waive. Instead he lit another cigarette and threw his can to the ground.

“I thought he’d never leave...”

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