Author: Mosh Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
“I already told you,” Sanzo said as he pitched his finished cigarette butt on the shadowed pathway at his feet, ghostly spirals of smoke rising from the corner of his mouth as he spoke, “if you bring it up again I will kill you.” “Ah, Sanzo, welcome back.” Hakkai smiled, handing Sanzo mug of coffee from the bar. Sanzo waved it off. “Give me something with hops,” he said to the barman, hitching himself up onto a stool. “And make it cold.” As he settled, Goku entered the bar, having dashed upstairs to change the moment they got back. With a quick glance at Sanzo, he headed for the nearest menu, which was fine with Sanzo as long as the monkey remained quiet. “Did you have any luck?” Hakkai asked him, sipping on the coffee Sanzo had rejected. “No.” Sanzo flicked his gaze up to the barman as he was handed a tankard of beer. “But the youkai's dead.” “Oh, so it went well, then.” Hakkai watched him carefully from behind his mug. “No, it didn't go well.” Sanzo tapped out a Marlboro and slid it between his lips, then patted his robe pocket for his lighter. “But the job's done, so let's just drop it.” “Fair enough.” Turning to Goku, Hakkai's tone brightened. “Are you ready to order yet, Goku?” “Uh, yeah,” said Goku, with a distinct lack of his accustomed enthusiasm. “I'll have... uh, everything on the left column.” He solemnly handed over the menu, then picked up the edge of a beer mat and proceeded to fiddle with it. Sanzo was in half a mind to tell him to stop, but he didn't want to break the peace. Hell, the monkey could have the whole menu and fuck around with all the beer mats in the joint if it meant no more talk about that morning, or that idiotic pantomime in the graveyard. Well, what was done was done; the detour was over, tomorrow they'd be on the road again, something Sanzo was grateful for, as much as the monotony of the landscape was tiring. Probably for the first time, the idea of sleeping in Hakuryuu instead of a normal bed was a welcome one. At least there would be no invading of personal space. Sanzo inhaled a lungful. “Where's the kappa?” he asked as he blew out a train of smoke, aware in his peripheral vision of Goku being served a bowl of cashew nuts further down the bar. Hakkai glanced towards the stairs leading to the rooms, a move Sanzo was sure he tried to conceal. “He should be down shortly.” Hakkai adjusted his monocle on the bridge of his nose. “We got back about an hour ago.” There were a few ways of taking that; Sanzo decided not to dwell on it. That kappa could take his sweet time, for all Sanzo cared. He wanted a peaceful, irritant free night. As if the Gods had it in for him, a voice drawled, “Well look at this, pretty boy's back with his monkey.” “Fuck off and die,” said Sanzo, not looking around as Gojyo approached and took the seat on the other side of Hakkai. “I missed you too,” Gojyo simpered, then ordered a pint. Taking a deep swig of his drink, Sanzo set about zoning out Gojyo's voice. As much satisfaction as it'd give him, he realised he couldn't very well open fire at the bar, at least not until he'd finished his much awaited beer. “Hey, monkey-boy, what's up?” Sanzo found himself glancing over as Gojyo leaned towards Goku, eying his bowls as more food was set down for him. “Shit, you gonna eat all that, man?” Gojyo reached down and snagged a spring roll, quickly stuffing it into his mouth. “Hands off, pervert!” That sounded more like the normal Goku. Sanzo wasn't sure whether to be grateful to the kappa, or not. A few of the other customers cast blatant stares in their direction, but Sanzo ignored it. If Goku and Gojyo wanted to make a ridiculous spectacle of themselves, that was their business. Downing the dregs in his tankard, Sanzo stubbed out his cigarette butt and turned on his stool. “Are you off already?” Hakkai asked. Getting to his feet, Sanzo didn't turn. He headed for the stairs. “Yeah. Unless Gyumaoh himself waltzes in here, I don't want to be disturbed. If anyone wakes me, they will die.” Sanzo ascended the stairs with the sound of Hakkai's not-quite-nervous laughter and Gojyo's under-the-breath grumbling following him. Goku, for his part, was silent. A repeating pattern in Sanzo's life seemed to be his inability to enjoy an unhindered peace and quiet. It hadn't quite been two hours before he heard three sets of footsteps tramping up the stairs, along with three voices chatting companionably. The door to the room Hakkai and Gojyo were sharing opened with a creak, some hushed 'goodnights' were exchanged, then it closed again. Only one set of footsteps were left now, the tread light and agile, heading toward Sanzo's door. There was a pause too long to be normal or comfortable, as if Goku was in two minds about entering. Good, that ensured he'd taken Sanzo's warning seriously at the bar. Maybe, if Sanzo was lucky, he would even keep to himself. The room was rustic with a simple fireplace cut out of the wall, but a lack of burnable wood in the brass bucket beside the hearth. When he'd entered the chilly room, Sanzo had considered battering the only chair – it looked like it'd collapse if anyone sat on it – but in the end decided it was too much effort to start a fire. Wrapping his robes around himself, he'd settled on the bed next to the window to read his paper, ignoring the empty space beside him where Goku had slept the previous night. Where Goku would be sleeping tonight, as well. The door swung open quickly, as if Goku had mentally and physically steeled himself before taking the plunge, fueled by his innate brash courage. “Hey,” was all he said. Sanzo flicked his gaze up in acknowledgment, noting the smile that wasn't entirely happy but attempting to be. Candles wavered in the wall lamps from an outside draft, making the room leap into animation, before Goku secured the door and the flames grew quiescent once again. Although Sanzo had already read his paper all the way through, he re-scanned the third page, remaining half-aware of Goku's movements, his sounds, all the familiar nuances that somehow seemed obligatory that night. A buckle was unlatched and a zip drawn down, but not casually. Cotton swished and crumpled onto bare floorboards. Socked feet padded around, then stopped, then padded some more. Something was settled on the dresser across the room. Goku sniffed. “We're starting out early tomorrow,” Sanzo said, not looking up from the page. “Get some rest.” For once, there was nothing customarily boisterous about Goku, but his presence and the odd sense of nervous anticipation Sanzo detected across the room was eating away at Sanzo's concentration. It pissed him off that he was so easily distracted lately. It didn't make sense. “Uh, yeah, I was gonna just go to bed. D'ya want me to blow out the lamps?” Was there any point trying to read? Sanzo supposed not – it was late, he was tired and not a little irritable. Unconsciousness was a far more palatable prospect than staying awake and acutely aware of every fucking move the monkey made. “Yeah.” Refolding his paper, Sanzo tossed it off the end of the bed, the pages hushing as they sprawled over the boards before settling. Leaving his robes tied, Sanzo slid himself beneath the sheets, turning to face the window, his back to the room – and to Goku. One by one, the lamps were blown out. When the shadows settled in a blanket of black, Sanzo only had sounds to read. Goku must have taken off his socks, his feet making a slightly different sound as he neared the bed. The thick covers were tugged, lifted; the mattress dipped, springs moaning softly. Although Goku settled, blowing out a long sigh, he was far from ready for sleep – Sanzo could almost feel the press of energy against his back, could almost believe the tenseness radiating from Goku was the cause for the hairs at the back of his neck to prickle. He closed his eyes. Counted to ten. Then twenty. Thirty. Fort– “Sanzo?” Predictable as ever. “What?” “You seem really tense. Are you okay?” “Yes. Go to sleep.” The springs chattered again in answer to Goku's restlessness. When he blew out another sigh, Sanzo felt it disturbing his hair at the back, just above his collar. “See, I don't think you're okay. I can tell.” “What do you want, a certificate for your observational skills?” “Don't be like that.” There was some pleading, a hint of defiance. “I'm tryin' not to think about stuff, but when you're lyin' there all pent up it's really difficult.” “I'm not pent up. I'm fed up. Fed up of your incessant talking, your inability to let anything lie.” Sanzo felt like they were going in circles. “I know what you're doing, monkey.” “Oh, and what am I s'posed to be doin'?” Goku challenged, affronted and, by the sound of it, moving further and further from sleep by the second. Damnit. “So sorry for wantin' you to be all right.” That was a lie. This wasn't about whether Sanzo was all right or able to sleep. Goku wasn't very good at hiding what he truly desired. “Bullshit. You want something from me – don't try to deny it. Ever since you brought up this morning you've been nipping at this.” Sanzo bit off his words, aware his voice was rising. The last thing he wanted was for his words to carry along the hall where Hakkai and Gojyo could hear. Turning onto his back and lowering his tone, he continued. “You want to fool around with someone? Well let me tell you – you're barking up the wrong tree. Go find some idiotic girl or boy to get off with.” The words lingered above the bed, strangely thick and altogether irrevocable. They seemed to taunt Sanzo, remind him there was no taking them back. He'd thought if Goku found someone else to play with it would put an end to this confusion, but it was the suggestion itself that seemed idiotic now. Stranger still was the silence that followed, stretching on and on until Sanzo wondered if the monkey had finally put his stupid notions out of head – once and for all – and gone to sleep. But deep down he knew that wasn't the case. Goku's breathing was far from steady. “Why d'you have to be such a bastard.” The pseudo-question struck suddenly and Sanzo almost hit him in defense. It wasn't like when the kappa goaded him – Goku was genuinely angry, genuinely hurt. Something stopped Sanzo from moving, but he grit his teeth. “How d'you know what I want if you don't even know what you want?” Goku went on. “I know exactly what I want, monkey – I've told you time and fucking time again. When are you going to get it into your thick skull that I just want to get this mission done?” Sanzo was not only aware of Goku's proximity and the heat of his body, but also of the sutra rolled in his own robe pocket. “It might seem like a joyride to you and the others, but I don't appreciate complications, these fucking tedious detours, or all these distractions.” “You know what I think?” “No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me.” Goku ignored him. “I think you're scared you're gonna like it and want it. I think you're afraid you're gonna want me if you touch me.” A pause. “I mean, any other touches apart from whacks with your harisen.” Another sigh. “But wanting something and needing something are different from each other. I know you hate needing, but I think it's okay to want.” This all sounded frighteningly like something Hakkai would argue. “Who told you that?” Another, much wider pause. “Hakkai.” “Fuck's sake...” Goku shuffled closer, until Sanzo could feel against his arm the brief brush of Goku's elbow. “I want you.” It was soft, breathed close to Sanzo's ear, but also rough. Goku's breath smelled tasty like bean pies and cashew nuts and ginger ale, reminding Sanzo he hadn't eaten since lunch. “Do you want me? Honestly, Sanzo, do you want me at all?” “No.” “Are you lying?” “No.” “I think you are.” If Sanzo wasn't mistaken, there was the ghost of a smile in Goku's voice. At this point, Sanzo was too tired to get angry about it. The next thing he knew, Goku had settled his hand against Sanzo's hip, just a light touch on the ridge. Sanzo froze. “I'm s'posed to like girls,” Goku murmured, part wondering observation, part defeat. I'm not supposed to like anyone, Sanzo thought, then wondered where that had come from. There was too much to read between that line. Sanzo ignored Goku's comment, but he should've known that wouldn't be the end of it. “I tried to like 'em. You know, look at 'em and talk to 'em, but... it's not the same as when I'm near you.” “It's because you grew up around me, that's all.” Sanzo realised he was grasping at straws now. “You've known nothing else.” “Maybe. But I think that's 'cause I always only wanted you, ever since the start.” Goku moved his hand, sliding it just a fraction over Sanzo's hip, running the tips of his fingers over the rise of bone. Sanzo closed his eyes, willed Goku to stop. If he could get himself moving, he could push Goku away. If he could get himself moving. What the fuck was wrong with him? “Stop saying things like that.” “When you haven't killed me yet? No way!” Goku rested his head against Sanzo's shoulder, inhaled. “If two people want each other, I think it's okay. That won't slow down a mission, not if they're honest with themselves. And each other.” When Sanzo closed his eyes spirals of movement whirled behind his eyelids. Lower down, his stomach muscles tensed and flexed as Goku let his fingers wander a little further around, sliding just above Sanzo's abdomen. The bed seemed too small. His clothes felt claustrophobic, too tight all of a sudden. Things were getting out of hand. Sanzo knew he had more control than this, it was just a question of locating it. “Goku,” he warned. “Tell me you don't want me back. If you really mean it, I'll... I'll just have to deal with that.” The sensation taking place in his gut, and lower in his groin, was not dissimilar to the one he'd woken to that morning, when Goku had been– When Goku had been pressed against him. “I...” he managed to get out, but the rest didn't come – he wasn't sure what came next. His body was in contradiction to his better judgement. Sanzo cleared his throat. “Goku,” he finally added, not the closing statement he'd been groping for. Pushing himself up onto his elbow, Goku leaned over him. Although it was dark, Sanzo could see the outline of Goku's head and shoulders, close, very close. “Don't,” Sanzo said. “Then stop me,” Goku replied, leaning down. Sanzo's mind screamed to push him off, kick him out of bed, out of the room, out of the whole fucking inn. At the first press of Goku's mouth, at the corner of Sanzo's lips, Sanzo's thoughts careened away from him, leaving him with nothing but the sense that Goku's lips were rough and curious, that he smelled of the food he'd eaten earlier and beneath that of the outdoors, of warm rain on cold rocks, giving off a steamy, unnameable energy. “Wow,” Goku whispered when he broke away, but before Sanzo could say anything, Goku came back for more, effectively cutting off his “What the hell do you think you're playing at?” The next kiss felt like a more purposeful exploration, Goku's weight shifting a little, then settling more firmly at Sanzo's side, his chest half over Sanzo's chest. Bracing his arms at either side of Sanzo's shoulders, Goku tilted his face and swiped his tongue in a wet line over Sanzo's mouth, then dipped it inside, just quickly, experimentally, licking Sanzo's teeth. Until that point, Sanzo had lain still, but now he reached up and curled his fists around Goku's arms, to tear him off, to squeeze him hard until it hurt – anything to fight the surge of arousal that shook through him. Goku put his fingers at Sanzo's robe sash and tugged it free, severing contact long enough to moan, “I wanna feel you,” before dipping his head down once again, sucking the breath out of Sanzo's lungs with a well-aimed bite to his lower lip. All Sanzo's instincts urged him to flip Goku over and push against him until he came, until he could find the release of pressure, sate his now rigid cock. When Goku slipped his fingers into Sanzo's robe, dusting the rough pads over his stomach where his leathers had ridden up, Sanzo hissed out a curse, his voice sounding so unlike him in the quiet. Goku moaned and licked his throat, then bit down. Sanzo should've known he'd be just as orally fixated in this as he was in everything else. Limbs finally kicking into action, Sanzo growled, launching himself up and pushing Goku down against the bed. Somehow, this didn't go quite as Sanzo had intended – immediately, Goku wrapped his legs around the backs of Sanzo's thighs, clamping him down, panting against his mouth. “Please...” Goku's erect cock pushed at Sanzo's hip, unforgiving and solid and insanely hot. There was a struggle; Sanzo found his arms trapped in his sleeves, then Goku was frantically yanking at his robes, at the leather beneath. Sanzo's zip was torn down, his belt discarded roughly. Skin blended into clothes and back into skin – there was no way of knowing where one ended and the other began. Linen twisted around and between them, making it difficult to move, but somehow Goku manoeuvred his hand down into the parted denim of Sanzo's jeans. “Fuck, fuck–” Goku arched up at the same moment he wrapped his palm around Sanzo's damp cock. “Ungh, I want you so much – I wanna taste you.” Sanzo couldn't breathe, let alone answer. With his hands fisted in the sheets, he lost the battle not to buck into the touch, driving himself into the rough circle of Goku's fingers. Goku's moan was unsteady, jolted from deep in his chest as he worked his hips, thrusting fitfully against Sanzo. Fire rolled through Sanzo, burning him up on the inside, setting his mind spinning and body screaming. He thought he was choking as the heat roiled all the way through him and out, surging in sweep after sweep of blissful, violent wracks and hot shudders. He came, striping lines over Goku's fingers, Goku's stomach, his own skin. Moments later he became aware that Goku had released him, had lifted his hand and was now sucking come from his skin. Hips still rolling in firm, uncoordinated circles, a series of low groans escaped Goku, sounding like each was hooked from deep within – like he was in pain, but Sanzo knew he wasn't. With his orgasm still alight in his nerves, he settled his head on the pillow beside Goku, and pulled him hard against him. The gasp Goku let out was soon swallowed by a small cry as Sanzo clutched Goku's hip and let him frot madly, let Goku rub himself to completion. A series of hot bursts, dashing Sanzo's body and spreading slick and rich between them, and Goku finally slowed his rhythm, shuddering to stillness. “You taste amazing,” Goku whispered, sounding husky, breathless, almost disbelieving. “Just... shut up.” Now the heat of release had faded, Sanzo felt reality setting in, bearing down in its unavoidable way. He was well aware he'd surrendered, given in to baser instincts. Everything had just changed. Sanzo had embraced a fall he'd once vowed never to take, at least, not while on the mission. But as he lay there, eyes shut tightly, he started to realise he had lost no time, or motivation, or drive to complete the task and retrieve his master's sutra. He had lost nothing but a notion people put so much stock into. Damn the monkey for being right. Sanzo turned his head, scowling at Goku in the darkness, but he felt no anger, just a familiar exasperation and a lightness in his bones from his earlier exertion. Tilting his face up, Goku brushed his lips over Sanzo's cheek, sighing, then pulling back again. “I feel so good, like I could fly, or sleep for days.” “Good idea,” said Sanzo, his own body feeling more relaxed than it had in weeks. He supposed he had Goku to thank for that. “Go to sleep.” Letting out a soft snort, Goku fidgeted, arranging himself into a settled position beside Sanzo, just close enough that they were still touching, but thankfully not too close that Sanzo felt smothered. “Don't be pissed off about this tomorrow.” Goku spoke lightly so that Sanzo had to re-run the words in his head to make sure he'd heard right. “Hush,” he replied, lazily shifting his hand down around Goku's waist to settle at the small of his back, letting it linger there a few moments, before drawing back his arm. The action tugged another, much more heartfelt sigh from the monkey. Sanzo was still tangled in his semi-discarded robes, the wetness on his abdomen turning rapidly sticky, his hairline damp with sweat, but he found he could not muster the will to rise and wash, or even change. Tomorrow. He would deal with all this shit tomorrow. For now, he closed his eyes and tried not to dwell on their sex, instead focusing on the natural sounds of the inn, as well as Goku's steady breathing beside him. It was happening all over again, only this time Sanzo didn't toss Goku out of bed, or head for the bathroom and deny it had taken place. He remained very still in bed, while tendrils of sensation curled around his innards, wound around his cock, slowly raising him to a plateau of inescapable arousal. As far as Sanzo could tell, Goku was awake – he could feel Goku breathing unsteadily – but he had yet to speak or move. A dangerous moment passed during which they both waited, on edge, for the other. Finally, the tension peaked to breaking point; at the same time Goku nudged his arse back against Sanzo's groin, Sanzo wrapped his hand around Goku's hip and pulled him in hard. Two groans were muffled by the pillows, one an octave higher than the other. “Yes,” Goku gasped, to which Sanzo could find no returning negative. It was then that he realised, with defeat, that the answer had invariably been yes. ~Fin~ |
Email | Post a comment on this story | Back to index | Back to Top |