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There's sand every-fucking-where and he would like it to be known that this
was never his idea in the first place. None of it was. None of the whole
fucking past two years, except maybe the night he stormed into Sanzo's
room and dragged him to the bath-house where Hakkai was, and come to think
of it, that was just about the highlight of the whole fucking time since
he and Hakkai had shut the door on their cabin in the woods and set out
on this damn fool sorry excuse of a road-trip.
"Sanzo," Goku whined, and Gojyo clipped his ear before he got
as far as telling them all how hungry he was.
"Stupid kappa," Goku muttered, but even his heart wasn't in it.
"It's not far now, Goku," said Hakkai, all bright and confident. "We
should arrive at the oasis very shortly."
"Are you sure?" said Sanzo.
"Oh yes," said Hakkai. "Besides, it's nice to get some exercise,
isn't it?"
Right. That was it. Hakkai wasn't getting any tonight. This was all his
fault anyway. Sending Hakuryu on ahead to scout for water, on account of
how it was too hot for him to stay in his jeep form, and it would be foolish
to go too far into the desert if they didn't know when they'd be able to
stop for the night, after which there was the fucking lecture on deserts
and how the temperature dropped suddenly and it really got very cold, and
Gojyo knew. He'd been through deserts before. Too many fucking deserts,
over the past two years. Normal people could go whole lifetimes without seeing
any, and...
"Gojyo," Hakkai started, and Gojyo just glared at him.
Hakkai shut his mouth, lips pressing into a thin line that yelled disapproval,
and Gojyo looked away, fists clenching tight in his pockets.
He didn't fall out with Hakkai often. Hardly ever, in fact. But fuck, you'd
fall out with anyone if you were living in their fucking pocket day after
day, week after week, month after-
"There it is!" Goku yelled, waving at the horizon. "Clever
Hakuryu! I won't eat you today, I promise!"
"Dragons don't taste good anyway, Goku," Hakkai murmured, and
to Gojyo it felt smug and uptight, and not mild and funny like usual.
And damn, Hakkai didn't deserve Gojyo hating him, not even if it was temporary
and something to do with the sun, and guilt mixed in with the anger and Gojyo
just glowered at the sand.
He pretended not to care that no-one noticed he was mad.
The oasis was like something out of an adventure film, right down to a gang
of desert nomads, complete with camels and canopied tents. They sold them
food and a few bottles of rice wine that had a real kick to it (nearly as
much as the camels), and laughed at their tent, offering them use of a couple
of their smaller canvas-palaces instead.
Sanzo must have known something was up, because he threw Goku into Hakkai's
tent and pulled Gojyo into his.
Which was a first. Even since the bath house, Sanzo had never taken the
first move in anything. If this was anything. Which Gojyo was far from certain
of. Could be that Sanzo was just as pissed off with Goku as Gojyo was with
Hakkai. Stranger things had happened.
Sanzo flopped down on a pile of expensive-looking nomad-blankets and lit
a cigarette. He chucked the packet at Gojyo.
Gojyo caught the red-and-white pack deftly, and stared. He'd thought at
first it was empty, and Sanzo-sama had merely wanted his servant to chuck
it in the bin. But it wasn't, it was only two or three short of a full pack.
Gojyo licked his lips.
"Just don't make a habit of it," Sanzo said.
Gojyo took a cigarette out, ran it shamelessly under his nose to drink in
the rich, dusky smell of the tobacco. Sweet. So sweet. And it had been so
long.
He lit it in a frenzy, pulled smoke deep, deep into his lungs.
Sighed it out.
His head started, slowly, to fade itself right-side-up.
"You might as well sit down," said Sanzo. "Here."
Gojyo sat next to Sanzo (there was only one pile of blankets, hurrah), and
took the offered bottle.
"Why?" he said, suspiciously, before taking a long pull on the
sake. (The chillies and the pickled whatever-it-was at the bottom of the
bottle still disconcerted him a bit, but what the fuck, it was damn good
at its job.) "Why you bein' nice to me?"
"Because it's better than you hanging around like a whining dog."
"Oh. Thanks a lot."
"Stop it."
Gojyo took another crafty gulp before he passed the bottle back, then settled
in to enjoy his first cigarette for three days.
Bliss.
"Hakkai doesn't understand everything," Sanzo said, softly, with
one of those smug grins twitching at the corner of his mouth. It felt different
to be the one being grinned at, rather than grinned about. Gojyo squirmed
happily into the blankets. It was getting cold, fast, but Sanzo's body was
warm next to his, and the liquor settled fire in his belly, and at last his
rage was melting away.
"He... we're.... y'know," Gojyo tried.
"Moron," said Sanzo, in passing.
"I don't suppose," Gojyo started again, but he never got to the
end of the sentence. Sanzo was on top of him, kissing him, oh fuck, shy and just the teensiest bit hesitant, his tongue stealing into Gojyo's mouth
like a shadow. Just like that day in the bath house. "Oh," Gojyo
said, as soon as Sanzo had backed off enough he could find the breath for
it. "So..."
"I want to fuck," said Sanzo. "You want to fuck?"
Gojyo's eyes went wide. "Er... yes?" Like it was a question that
needed answering.
Sanzo made a satisfied little noise and started to take Gojyo's clothes
off.
Things got a bit hazy after that; Sanzo's fingers were quick and clever,
and there was oil, rich, thick oil that got everywhere, but it wasn't like
they'd ever have to see the nomads again. There was Sanzo's tongue on Gojyo's
cock, just licking, and Gojyo's mouth on Sanzo's cock, fucking, sucking the
come right out of him. And Gojyo sank into Sanzo's body, so sweet, hot as
the sake and the desert and pure, bright friction.
When they were both done and lying there under thick blankets that smelled
vaguely of camels, and Sanzo's head was on Gojyo's shoulder, because they'd
just polished off the sake and Sanzo's inhibitions were pickled like the
whatever-it-was, Gojyo skimmed his hand over the curve of Sanzo's ass, and
his fingers found his hole, tight again but still slick and just a bit swollen,
and it made Sanzo go 'mmmmm' and rub his nose into Gojyo's neck, just like
a fucking cat.
And they ended up doing it all over again.
Gojyo woke next morning to the sound of Hakkai talking loudly (for Hakkai)
and conspicuously to Goku, just outside the tent.
He grinned to himself, and reached for his clothes. Sanzo grumbled beside
him, naked and warm and bad-tempered.
Things felt normal again. Gojyo was ready to face whatever their journey
held. Not like he had anything better to do, after all. And maybe tonight
they'd find another oasis, another heap of blankets, and this time, if he
was good and stopped nagging for five minutes, Hakkai could join in too.
A hand brushed his, a memory of a feeling of a touch.
Sanzo was pushing a half-empty pack of cigarettes at him.
"Thanks," said Gojyo.
He shook his hair and treated Sanzo to his most stunning morning-after smile.
"Idiot," said Sanzo, rolling his eyes as he dragged himself, naked
and beautiful, from their bed.
If Hakkai noticed that day that Gojyo suddenly had cigarettes, he certainly
didn't say anything.
~owari~ |