Title: Febbre Alta (Part 10 of Barely Breathing)

Author: Befanini
Website: http://www.fanfiction.net/~befanini

Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights whatsoever. For 10th anniversary daydreaming purposes only. Heh.

Summary: A late Valentine's gift for Sanzo/Gojyo lovers. FLUFFfest. XD

A/N: Um, yeah. It means "High Fever". Febbre alta describes both the crackling electricity between the kappa and the priest, and also my state of mind while writing this collection of silly fluffy 353. XD. I can really only take credit for the last one. The others came out of nowhere, and have no point at all. LOL



III. Laws of Attraction


A/N: Yeah. You know those yummy, black-and-white drawings in the manga… you'll see what I mean. XD



Life is just one fool thing after another; love is just two fool things after each other. – Anon.



Gojyo waits for maybe fifteen minutes, and then he follows Sanzo up the stairs. He swaggers over to the monk's room, grasps the doorknob, and grins to find the door unlocked. He turns the handle slowly…

… And is yanked inside by a strong alabaster arm. Sanzo, robes already discarded, pins the kappa to the door as he reaches behind to turn the lock.

"Mmm…" Gojyo growls. Claret eyes glitter hotly down, greedily drinking up the vision of pale, smooth skin contrasting sharply with the monk's black top. "Love or sex?" he purrs teasingly, and reaches out to grasp Sanzo's hips and pull the monk flush against his body. He links his hands together on the small of Sanzo's back, and waits impishly for the blond's answer.

Purple eyes narrow at Gojyo's words. Bastard. Make me choose, will you? Sanzo clenches his fists, knowing the answer he wants to give; but by the gods he'll have the sex AND gobble Gojyo up too. So the monk tilts his jaw mutinously and challenges defiantly – "'Ch. Love or dead, asshole?" And the gun is now pressed under Gojyo's chin.

Gojyo chuckles and licks his lips. Sanzo inhales sharply at the sight. And then they forget the question altogether as their entire world is reduced to each other.

Only blond and red and amethyst and ruby and bronze and marble exists. Only bare skin pressed to bare skin, and breathless murmurs, and clasped hands, and eager, wet lips.

… When they come back to earth, Gojyo props himself up on an elbow and gives Sanzo a dazzling smile. He arches his eyebrows, but this time there is no trace of mockery.

He says just one word. Softly.


And Sanzo snorts and replies in the singular as well.


He tugs Gojyo's head down for a deep, lingering kiss, then lets him go. White fingers play lazily with blood-red hair as Sanzo literally utters the last word.


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