Denim slides over hard, flushed flesh and he thinks, hazily, How did it come to this? Oh, but he remembers, at the back of his mind, the naked, raw look on Goku's bruised face, the way his bloodied tongue had skated out over a swelling lower lip. Shining moisture in the lamplight. Like a girl's lips.
Not soft like a girl, though – fuck no; Goku's all angles and planes and throbbing, rutting sinew and bone and fierce hard cock. He's like a fucking animal, gorging on Gojyo's skin, taking what he wants and needs and giving back messy, uncoordinated enthusiasm and heat. A slight-framed furnace of arousal, that's Goku, energy-intoxicating and strong, so fucking strong Gojyo has to pry the sweaty, electrifying monkey off him to catch his breath.
“Fuck, man, easy. We've got all – well, ten minutes. Hell, this won't take long.” Gojyo tastes blood on his tongue when Goku burrows closer and he finds his mouth pressed to Goku's neck. “You still hurting?”
“Nah, c'n hardly feel a thing 'cept the good stuff.” Goku moans against his ear, pumping his hips against Gojyo. He's been drunk before, yeah, but Gojyo's never seen him as bad as he was tonight. Never seen the monkey get so wasted and sink so low that'd he'd willingly start a petty brawl.
Gojyo recalls how his stomach had flipped over when he'd exited the bar and caught sight of the shambles on the road outside, Goku at its centre, being kicked on the ground. Doesn't matter how many times Gojyo tells him he'll find someone, someone good for him. Road ratting is tough; the only relationships you're ever able to maintain are with those you travel with. Sometimes a guy gets lonely. Sometimes a guy loses sight of himself, seeks physicality where he can get it – anywhere he can get it. Even fights.
Gojyo knows this better than anyone, but he pushes the fact aside.
The tang of Goku's blood sings in Gojyo's throat and he knows he'll never get that taste out of his head. It's more alive than anything – any cigarette or alcoholic beverage or food-stuff, even more than a woman's slick pussy. Damp eyes close against Gojyo's cheek and Goku squirms, then bucks frantically with a series of hard thump-thumps. Their hipbones grate and jar and connect, pain shoots through Gojyo's hip, but that's soon eclipsed by the tearing rage of release as he comes, hot and fast, half in his jeans and half up over his own stomach. Goku's semen splashes his navel in gossamer stripes and he rides to a standstill, sprawled on top of Gojyo.
“That what you needed, man?” Gojyo asks him, speaking against tangled brown spikes.
“Yeah. No. I dunno.”
“I won't be some cute little girl-thing for you. Or a boy-thing.”
“I don't want you ta be.” Goku still slurs a little, but he's sobering up now. When he has time to think on this, it probably won't be a pretty sight. More like a hard cold truth. “I just...”
“I get you, man. Just so long as you get me.”
“Yeah, I get you,” Goku mumbles.
Gojyo lets his head tip back against the ground. The cobbles are cold, but welcome. “Reckon we should get back to the inn before Hakkai has worry-babies.”
Goku manages a soft puff of a laugh. “'Kay.” But he doesn't move.
“Get off me now, man, you're heavier than you look in that scrawny body of yours.”
“Shut up, kappa,” says Goku, struggling but eventually pushing himself up. “But uh. Thanks.” He doesn't look at Gojyo, turns away, gets to his feet and stumbles.
Gojyo rises fast, hand out to steady Goku by the shoulder. Once righted and soiled clothes have been re-buttoned and straightened, they start heading back to the inn, Gojyo with his hands in his pockets, casting Goku the odd surreptitious glance. There's a lingering warmth in his gut, a staying settlement in his bones he can't name. When they hit the right street, Gojyo reaches out and steers Goku onto it, rather than letting him wander on further down.
Hey, this kind of shit is what big bros are for, right?
Yeah, Gojyo keeps telling himself that, although he starts to wonder if it's what little bros are for, too.
~Fin~
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