Title: True Colors

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

Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights whatsoever. For fangirl daydreaming purposes only. XD

Rating: M

Summary: "The gods don't save anyone. You have to save yourself." … But let me tell you… HE saved ME.



Warning! Yaoi Chapter. Heh...


Chapter 4: The Sweetest Taboo

The lover is a monotheist who knows that other people worship different gods but cannot himself imagine that there could be other gods. Theodor Reik

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips. Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound



It was when he'd heard his voice that he knew. When he had somehow persuaded the beautiful blonde priest to read a sutra for Cho Gonou, mere hours after the four of them had met – when the monk had shot him a supremely annoyed glare from those incredible purple eyes, before he snorted and gave in.

He had watched in stupefied awe as the enigmatic, rebellious High Priest had placed a golden crown on his head, which had rendered that exquisite face all the more angelic. He had never seen such a pure, flawless sight – no woman and certainly no man had ever come close. Nobody had a right to be that beautiful. And then, while he was still dazzled by the ethereal vision before him, the monk had closed his eyes and began to chant.

And Sha Gojyo was lost.

He'd had a bad feeling the moment the knock sounded on his door. He had just been told by the man whose life he had saved that his hair and eyes were the color of blood – something he'd always secretly feared. And now the stranger with the beautiful green eyes who had occupied his home and time and attention for the past month was telling him that he, Gojyo, reminded the young man of his sins. Repentance. And now the only person he'd come to trust, grown close to, since Jien, was telling him goodbye. And he could see it in those eyes, although the pretty mouth smiled. Green-eyes was saying goodbye forever.

Just his luck. The first person he had ever felt a connection to, and the guy was fucking suicidal.

And then came the knock on his door… And there he was, with his golden hair and amethyst eyes, and that impossibly fair skin, and that perfect face.

And that voice.

Gojyo would never forget that night. He remembered every moment of it: the k'so bouzu shooting at him for the first time, mere minutes after they'd met. The bastard kneeing him in the stomach. Shit, that had hurt. Gojyo had rounded on him and punched him one on the jaw. It would have gone straight to the sneering asshole's face, right smack in the middle of that haughty, aristocratic nose, if Gojyo had not had a twinge of misgiving at the very last second and aimed lower instead. He just couldn't bring himself to mar that face. It would have been sacrilege.

And still the bastard had the nerve to shove past him, trying to get to Green-eyes. That was when Gojyo had had to play dirty, and he'd wrestled the monk to the ground. Heh. "Too bad for you my ground moves are killer." And then the bakazaru had appeared out of nowhere, but somehow the man called Cho Gonou had somehow managed to escape.

After that, he'd sheepishly asked the priest and the boy inside his apartment, while the priest explained more fully about the green-eyed, soft-spoken young man charged with the murder of a thousand youkai. And somehow, during that conversation, while Gojyo was still raw and chafing from Gonou's parting words to him – the cold, arrogant, impossibly beautiful priest had spoken those words that had changed Gojyo's life forever. "The ones with the strongest will to live are the ones who survive."


There they were, looking for a man whose only wish was to die. The man who Gojyo had come to believe was important to him, the man who'd as good as told him that Gojyo reminded him of death. And here the haughty priest had restored Gojyo's faith in stubborn survival, with just a handful of words.

That was when Gojyo had felt the first stirrings of a deep, real attraction to the blonde, far beyond the surface beauty. That was when his soul started to vibrate, sensing a kindred spirit. He couldn't believe the irony of it, and had indeed laughed about it: "Ha ha… what a shame you became a monk." And for the first time the blonde had twitched dangerously and shrugged him off: "What's THAT supposed to mean! Hands off." It was scandalous, even by his standards, flirting with a holy man. But even then Gojyo just couldn't help himself.

And so they'd gone on, deeper into the woods, the three of them. Gojyo had insisted on going along. Fuck, he refused to let the idiot die. After he had gone and saved his damn life and all… a stupid death would piss him off. Oh yes it would. Gojyo was being greedy, and he knew it. Selfish. He wanted Gonou to live, if only to prove him wrong. His taboo coloring was not a curse, dammit. He wasn't damned. Mother didn't know shit.

Gojyo had surprised himself by saying as much to the monk. When they had halted, unsure of the next path to choose, he had moved in close to where the monk was leaning against a tree. Gojyo had only meant to ask the blonde something, but then that powerful magnetism lured him in, and Gojyo had found himself laying a hand beside the man's golden head, as though the monk was a pretty young thing he was about to chat up. For an instant, he braced himself for lightning from the Heavens to reduce him to cinders for his unholy attraction to the holy man. It had to be an unforgivable sin. But even then, so soon after they had met, Gojyo just couldn't resist, and Heaven be damned. He was drawn to that face… those eyes… that voice.

So Gojyo had stared into violet, and told the High Priest that his red hair and eyes were the color of blood, the color of penance. And for the second time that night, the purple eyes had narrowed icily at Gojyo's audacity, and the monk had tapped his arm away, and once again sent arrows piercing straight to his heart with just a few well-chosen, brusque words. "Do you seriously think that blood is the only thing that's red in this world? You're as stupid as you look."

And there Gojyo was, staring wide-eyed. Speechless. "What exactly are you expecting?"

He'd grown his hair out. He'd tried to save someone who he'd thought was important. But the one who wanted to be saved…was he. Gojyo.

And then the saru had sniffed blood, and they'd run and found Gonou, in the process of ripping his second eye out, the FOOL, and the monk had gone and spit icily at the demonslayer. No, it was not reproach or reprimands or accusations about his crimes. Strangely enough, the monk had not addressed Gonou's sins against his victims. Instead, the monk chose to focus on what he, Gojyo, had confided in him. Gojyo remembered every word.

"Was it you who said that red implies repentance? Repentance to whom? The Gods? The Gods don't save anyone. You have to save yourself. You can choose to die. You can choose to run… But dying alone won't change a thing. Trust me on that one. If you really want things to change… you're going to have to live."

That moment had been his salvation. With those words, the damn arrogant beauty had redeemed Sha Gojyo, and bound Gojyo to him forever. The hot-headed, foul-mouthed, angel-faced High Priest was his equal and his soul mate. They believed in the same thing: survival. Inner strength. Damn the gods.

And later, when all four of them were standing on the ruins of Gonou's enemy's castle, and Gojyo had chided the worldly priest into reading a sutra, and that commanding, arresting voice rang clear as a bell, vanishing all conflict, and bringing them all together under that golden light… That was when he knew. He would follow Genjo Sanzo to the ends of the earth.



You with the sad eyes

Don't be discouraged

Oh, I realize

It's hard to take courage

In a world full of people

You can lose sight of it all

And the darkness, inside you

Can make you feel so small

But I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Your true colors

True colors

Are beautiful, like a rainbow



So here he was, on the Journey West, putting his life on the line, fighting off countless youkai attacks, enduring indescribable boredom during the long hours on the road, putting up with a whiny, annoying bottomless pit, suffering along with the others when they had to camp out, or squeeze into a tiny inn in godforsaken towns. And not to mention dodging bullets and stinging whacks from the harisen of their very short-tempered, moody leader. The gorgeous blonde he had secretly sworn to follow wherever he went.

If it were not for Hakkai, Gojyo seriously would have gone nuts fifty miles into their journey. Soft-spoken, mild-mannered, smiling Hakkai… Gojyo was not mistaken, after all – the man had been important to him. Was important to him. After all said and done, when Gonou had been arrested and his sentence passed, and the sly, sneaky monk had tricked Gojyo into cutting off his hair – the newly named Cho Hakkai had taken up permanent residence in Gojyo's home.

It had been awkward. There was none of the easy camaraderie they had shared when "Green-eyes" had been injured… before those words were said. Instead, he, Gojyo, had found himself feeling stifled, and that had made Hakkai uneasy and feeling out of place and unwelcome.

Gojyo had apologized and tossed out a glib remark of not being used to having someone waiting for him – but if he were being completely honest, it was resentment he felt. Hurt, yes, that was what caused him to avoid Hakkai during those early days, after the Sanbutsushin had granted him his "pardon". For the first time in Gojyo's life he'd thought he'd finally made a friend, a true friend, not like Banri and all the other punks he hung around with. But the closeness he had felt to the green-eyed young man was shattered by the stinging thought that Hakkai saw his red eyes and hair as a curse. It was hard to let go of the betrayal that Gojyo felt.

But after that business with Banri, with Hakkai coming to his rescue after all, and in the process both of them ironically helping the damn monk with the task which they'd refused to do at first – somehow, things had fallen into place. That unlikely event had cemented the fragile friendship into a solid brotherhood. And Gojyo at last had a family.

And when the icy, arrogant monk had announced that they were being sent on a Divine Mission, his family had grown to include a loud brat and a corrupt, gun-wielding, cigarette-smoking High Priest.

What a supremely blissful torture it had been – sitting behind that golden head, watching as the silken, sunkissed layers had grown longer and longer over the monk's collar. Gojyo had entertained himself for hours during the monotonous drives just imagining running his fingers through that hair. The stupid monkey was right: it would have been like holding sunlight in your palm. Sometimes Sanzo glanced up to the rearview mirror and caught him staring, and something indefinable would flash in those purple depths, before Sanzo would narrow his eyes and glance away dismissively.

Gojyo lived for that something. It felt dangerous, and mysterious, and made him want to discover exactly what the punishment was. It was a thrill. He, the half-breed child, and Sanzo the forbidden monk. It was, simply, the sweetest taboo.

Yes – all the nasty cuts and bruises from their enemies, all the headaches he got from putting up with the bakazaru, the discomfort of sleeping on the ground, or on the floor while his Royal Iciness got the only bed, even running out of Hi-Lites for days on end – it was all worth it, just for the chance to be near Sanzo. He couldn't help himself, really; he found excuses to sit beside Sanzo, to touch him, to tease him.

Sha Gojyo had a crush – or so he'd thought at the time – and man it was delicious tormenting them both: teasing himself with stolen, burning glances and a bold arm draped over the touchy bastard's shoulder… and he practically lived to see the furious flush in the pale cheeks and the icy glint in the amethyst eyes whenever Gojyo flirted shamelessly with him. For it meant that Sanzo was far from indifferent to him. Heh.

Plus, the bouzu's reactions whenever Gojyo flirted shamelessly with anyone else were priceless as well. Sanzo kicked him, hit him with the fan, threatened and glowered and scolded, all the while declaring that Gojyo's little games with the ladies were going to land them all into trouble. Gojyo didn't see how, exactly – but it was too precious the way Sanzo's lower lip jutted out sulkily while reprimanding him in a possessive voice. Bastard just wouldn't let Gojyo shake the feeling that he cared.

Well, Sanzo had shown how much he cared tonight. So much so that it almost broke Gojyo's heart, he just felt that happy. The insufferably smug, superior, gorgeous man had declared himself to be his. His. Sha Gojyo's. He still could hardly believe it.

Purple eyes opened slowly, and startled Sha Gojyo out of his reveries. The kappa was lying on his side, his head supported by an elbow propped up on the pillow, as he gazed tenderly down at the beautiful man who a few hours ago he had made his lover.

The drowsy purple eyes met intense red, slowly grew focused… and then Sanzo endeared himself even more to Gojyo by shutting them tight again, and cursing under his breath. "Shit… it wasn't a dream… Dammit all to hell!" The furious words were hissed through gritted teeth, accompanied by an embarrassed flush to the porcelain cheeks.

"Hey Beautiful," Gojyo replied huskily. He grinned wider as Sanzo shuddered from the touch of tanned knuckles softly grazing his face. Sanzo shrugged away and rolled to his side, still swearing a blue streak.

Undeterred, Gojyo followed to spoon himself against Sanzo, as the darkness outside the window slowly gave way to the pearl-gray of dawn. He pulled Sanzo back against him, locking an arm around his middle, and throwing a long leg possessively over Sanzo's hips. He leaned in close to nuzzle the pale nape, relishing the silken texture of the golden strands tickling his nose. Gojyo chuckled in delight when Sanzo shuddered again.

With strong brown hands he turned Sanzo around to face him, and the blonde put up no resistance, although a deep blush still colored his face.

Gojyo twinkled his eyes teasingly. "Are you shy, bouzu? God, you're so adorable!" The amethyst eyes blazed indignantly at his words. Moving swiftly, Gojyo rolled over to pin the hissing, cursing monk beneath him, at the same time reaching up to lace their fingers together.

Violet eyes spit fury at him, as Sanzo muttered resentfully. "This may come as a shock to you, you perverted asshole, but I've never done this before," Sanzo hissed. "I'm not used to waking up in the arms of – waking up beside –" The words trailed away into embarrassed silence.

Gojyo groaned, even as a fierce, tender light ignited in his scarlet eyes. "You'll get used to it. You'd better get used to it, you beautiful bastard, because I'm never ever letting you go… Never…" And dipping his head, Gojyo kissed Sanzo good morning for the first time.

By the end of it, Sanzo found himself with his arms wrapped tightly around Gojyo, and with one hand tangled through long red hair as he moaned softly into Gojyo's mouth. They were the merest breath apart, eyes closed, nose to nose, the whole length of their bodies pressed together. It was the most exquisite feeling in the world to drown beneath Sha Gojyo. Just the whisper of Gojyo's breath falling on his parted lips was a pleasure almost too much to bear. Sanzo cursed again, but weakly this time. "Damn…"

Their eyes opened at the same time, and impish red stared adoringly down into dazed violet. "So you do like waking up in my arms, hmm?"

The purple eyes glittered dangerously. Hotly. "Urusei. Just kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me…" Sanzo muttered, surging up hungrily to capture those wicked lips again. He knew he was moaning helplessly, that he was writhing with pleasure, that he was clutching Gojyo to him frantically.

"Uhhnnn… Gojyo…" He knew he was groaning the other's name with a shameless hunger and need, but he just didn't care anymore. He had had enough of the rascal's teasing, and games, and stolen touches and smoldering glances. Three years and more he'd had to endure the torment of resisting; and now what bliss it was to surrender, what absolute pleasure it was to give in. To give himself, to Gojyo. Goddamn horny, hot-blooded, sinfully sexy, provoking, maddening Gojyo.

"Gojyo…" he moaned again, ripples of pleasure flooding him. Mouth to mouth. Skin on skin. Sleek, hard muscle and musky scent and silken lips and hot, velvet tongue. "Gojyo…" he groaned, grinding up against Gojyo in a silent plea for possession.

But the kappa had other ideas. His eyes flew open as Gojyo leaned away briefly, and then pressed something into his hand. Sanzo looked at it, and his eyes widened. It was the bottle of oil. The purple eyes searched Gojyo's face uncertainly, and eagerness and a hint of terror blazed in the violet depths.

Gojyo groaned, and rained passionate kisses all over Sanzo's face. "I still mean to collect that IOU, Sanzo. I still want your—" The rest of his words were drowned out by Sanzo's hoarse gasp. "B-bastard…" Sanzo groaned weakly. And then he captured the kappa's mouth in a crushing kiss that betrayed his need. "Tell me… show me what to do…" he rasped against Gojyo's mouth, their lips clinging damply.

"God, you're hot…" Gojyo groaned, and covered Sanzo with kisses again. Then he grinned. "You know what I did last night, how I prepared you—"

Sanzo nodded, glaring in remembered discomfiture at the intimacy of the act… and gods, how unbelievably good it had felt once he'd relaxed.

"Then just do that, love. Use the oil, and make me ready for you…"

Sanzo blushed fiercely again, but the desire raging in his veins overcame his reserve.

So with murmured encouragements and approving moans from Gojyo, Sanzo experienced the pleasure of preparing his lover for him for the first time. Again the first time. He wondered how he was ever going to get used to this… and hot on the heels of that thought he wondered how he had ever lived without it. He wondered how, and why, he had ever resisted this exasperating, perfect, beautiful scoundrel in the first place.

And then Gojyo clenched tight around Sanzo's fingers, and a groan escaped him as he thought of that tightness and that heat surrounding him. He wasn't sure he could stand it. He was sure he was going to embarrass himself by finishing too soon. Either that, or he would pass out from sheer pleasure.

Meanwhile, Gojyo was panting beneath Sanzo, heart thundering as the blonde demonstrated what a fast learner he was. While preparing him with oil-slicked fingers, Sanzo moved from ravishing his neck to exploring his chest with eager lips and hot, wet tongue. When Sanzo moaned around his nipple, Gojyo jerked up and reached blindly for the oil. He spilled some hastily on his palm, and then he reached down between them and grasped Sanzo, telling him without words that he was ready.

"Aaahhh… gods… Gojyo…" Sanzo bit his lip and remained motionless as he slipped in. Gods, this was torture. This was pleasure beyond anything he'd ever imagined. He hissed, and pushed deeper, and deeper still, until he was fully sheathed in that wonderful tight heat. Gods, that heat…

He tried a small thrust, and groaned as Gojyo gripped him. He thrust again, harder this time, and was rewarded with Gojyo's low groan. He withdrew slooowly, teeth clenched tight at the unbelievable friction, and then he thrust back in, nailing his lover's pleasure spot and making Gojyo squirm.

"Oh god oh god Sanzo… Sanzooo!" Gojyo moaned. "Do it Sanzo… God, baby…"

Sanzo groaned and forgot to object to the endearment as he reacted to the husky sounds of arousal pouring from Gojyo's kiss-swollen lips. He leaned down to kiss those lips again, his tongue slipping into his lover's mouth to the rhythm of his thrusts.

He pounded hard into Gojyo, and Gojyo locked long legs around his back as they moaned into each other's mouths. The bed creaked and rocked from the force and fury of their lovemaking, and their hoarse gasps and groans of pleasure flooded the room as they lost themselves in each other.

"Gojyo…" Sanzo moaned, tearing his mouth away. "Gods, Gojyo…" He buried his face in the redhead's throat, and shuddered in bliss as brown arms locked tight around him. So this was why Gojyo had cried last night. This was how it felt to be wrapped completely in his lover's embrace. Their hips grinding against each other was but a part of it. It was the intimacy they shared in the act, it was limbs tangled together, arms holding each other close, sensitive fingertips caressing.

It was harsh breath mingling, it was hungry eyes drinking in the other's face, it was eager lips worshipping damp skin, and soft moans and breathless words in each other's ears. This was pleasure beyond the carnal, this was an all-encompassing bliss that came from worshipping the other and being adored in return. This was the savage, secret joy that only lovers knew. This was them, together. Lovers.

"Gojyo…" he gasped, as the pleasure built in him to fever pitch. "Al-almost there…"

"I'm with you, blondie," Gojyo panted, tanned hands clasping his face to collide their mouths together yet again. "Come with me…"

Gojyo thrust his tongue deep into his mouth, and Sanzo's pleasure grew too sharp to contain; bursting from him in wave after wave of intense bliss as he emptied himself into Gojyo.

"Uhmm…" Gojyo gave a strangled groan that blended with Sanzo's husky moans. "Yes!" he hissed, grinding up against Sanzo as he came too. "Sanzooo…" he moaned, shuddering, as release tore through him, the pleasure so keen it left him breathless.

Sanzo lay spent on top of Gojyo. Their chests heaved against each other as they strove for breath. Their sweat-slicked limbs were tangled together. Sanzo's right hand felt numb under Gojyo's shoulder; and a spot on Gojyo's spine was sore where he'd been lying on the bottle of oil, but neither of them cared. They just stayed that way for a while, savoring the other's closeness, the other's skin, the other's heartbeat. The blonde's gasps fell in hot spurts on the kappa's shoulder, and the redhead's panting breaths stirred the golden layers of hair on the monk's nape.

After a few minutes, Sanzo extracted his hand with a wince, and Gojyo plucked away the offending bottle with a grimace, and they settled back down to enjoy the remaining two hours together, before breakfast and the road.

Somehow the prospect of the long journey west didn't look too bad anymore.

After a token protest, Sanzo allowed himself to be pulled back down into eager tanned arms that waited to enfold him in their embrace. This time it was the golden head pillowed on a hard bronze shoulder, as Gojyo lightly traced random patterns on his back with lazy fingertips.

Golden lashes drifted down. This was yet another level of pleasure that Gojyo was treating him to. The soothing motions of the kappa's hands on his back, the steady rise and fall of the muscled chest that cradled him, and the soft lips pressed against his brow were making him feel so sleepy and boneless…

"Tell me again, Sanzo," Gojyo murmured huskily in his ear, disturbing the delicious cloud of drowsiness he was floating on.

"Nani?" Sanzo growled, irritated.

"You know…"

Sanzo waited, and then he sighed when no continuation came, and the zen-like trance evaporated. He braced himself up on his elbows and raised an exasperated eyebrow as he stared haughtily down at the kappa.

The red eyes stared softly back at him. "Tell me now that I'm awake. Say those words you whispered last night," Gojyo requested with a small smile.

The violet eyes blazed with tender emotion. Sanzo gave an embarrassed snort. "'Ch…" Color flushed the pale cheeks. He knew what Gojyo was asking. And the answer to Gojyo's question had hit him weeks ago. Or to be more precise, he, Sanzo, had finally admitted it to himself, weeks ago. All the raging, overwhelming feelings that erupted in him where the kappa was concerned – all of that had crystallized into a single, solid, undeniable truth that day.

That day that had almost been the last. When they had gone to defeat Homura, once and for all, or die trying. There had been no hesitation, there had been no time, no assurances and no guarantees. They had just ploughed on with stubborn spirit and obstinate will.

He had led them. There was no time to think or consider, and his choices and decisions had been blind and desperate in their haste. It had been bad enough leaving Hakkai behind to deal with the undead demons. He knew how much the healer hated to give in to his youkai nature, but they had had no choice; and while he doubted about the rest of them, he felt sure that Hakkai would still be standing after all said and done. Not for nothing was the gentle-faced, soft-spoken man called "demonslayer".

Still, it had been bad enough, rushing up the tower with one less member to the ikkou. On top of it all was the worry that the bakazaru would go wild again – that Seiten Taisei Son Goku would be released. Cho Hakkai had control of his demon form. His mind was still intact, even if his instincts were narrowed down to killing. Whereas the stupid monkey… No matter how many times he'd already done it before, Sanzo was never completely sure he would be able to restore Goku's limiter. What a fucking irony it would be if they managed to defeat Homura and the world became in danger of the Great Sage.

So they had climbed on, and at the top the three of them had encountered the final hurdle before they entered Homura's chambers… and it meant leaving Sha Gojyo to battle his demons. Literally.

The very first time that Sanzo had met Gojyo, the redhead had surprised him by exposing his vulnerability and bitterness at his half-breed legacy. Considering the circumstances and the clash of wills that comprised their first meeting, it was disconcerting for the tall man with the startling red hair and beautiful claret eyes to suddenly turn around and bare his soul to Sanzo. Sanzo had recognized instantly that unlike the innocent Goku and this fragile Cho Gonou, here was a fighter, a survivor, like him. Here was someone who didn't need protecting; and yet all that had flared in him at Gojyo's frank confession was fierce, overwhelming protectiveness.

So in his own brusque way, Sanzo had forced Gojyo to see the light. With sneers and well-aimed, cutting words… and even with a devious little joke. He was shocked, actually, that the half-breed took it to heart… and which resulted in Gojyo cutting off his hair in an act of defiance against his taboo coloring. "Screw it… I'M the one who wants to be saved."

After that, he and the kappa had shared a strained acquaintance. On his part, because he just didn't get involved; on the kappa's part, because Sanzo's arrogance irritated him. He supposed they were what could be called "bad friends". Or so Hakkai said. All he knew was that he had spent the last three years putting up with the cocky redhead's insults and teasing and the blatant flirting, all the while keeping his distance. Muichimotsu. Non-attachment. That was his mantra. That was his way of life.

And then, when it came down to it, Sanzo had faltered at the last moment. The enemy was waiting. Homura was going to triumph. The very world hung in the balance. But it was all he could do to force himself to think of the task ahead, and to trust that the half-breed would take care of himself. Even as Sanzo forced himself to walk away and leave Gojyo behind to deal with the last obstacle, he couldn't help himself from tossing back what was almost a command: "I don't read sutras for dead people."

And even as he turned his back, it hit him. He had just ordered the bastard to survive. To live through it… to conquer his demons… to be there when he, Sanzo, returned.

The pervy, cocky redhead was important to him, after all. No, that was a lie. Gojyo was everything to him.

That was why he'd kissed the kappa, of course. It wasn't out of gratitude for being there for Goku. It was capitulation, pure and simple. Surrender. It was him giving in to the burning desire for Gojyo that he had denied for so long.

But he was damned if he had the patience to explain all that to the incorrigible devil smiling impishly up at him right now. Not at the moment, anyway.

"You little fool…" he muttered instead, bringing his hands down to cradle the wickedly handsome face. Sanzo held Gojyo's gaze, and there was no resisting the hungry plea in those scarlet eyes, no matter how awkward Sanzo still felt about admitting his feelings. So he dipped his head and breathed harshly against the younger man's lips.


The kiss was hard and brutal, a stamp of possession, and an admission, and an acceptance. It was deep and desperate and hot. It was savage, and thorough, and it bordered on pain, and yet neither of them were willing to end it.

Slowly the kiss gentled, until it was only lips touching softly, and tongue tips tasting lightly, soothing bruised tissue tenderly, and exchanging whispers of breath.

Sanzo rested his forehead on Gojyo's, and Gojyo shuddered beneath him, trembling tanned hands threaded through the golden hair. And then Sanzo leaned back, and the redhead's hands fell to his waist. The monk held the kappa's gaze again as he slowly brought several strands of flaming red hair to his lips.

"I…" Sanzo breathed through the crimson locks, the amethyst eyes burning hotly into ruby depths. He leaned down as Gojyo gasped and slammed his eyes shut.

"Love…" Sanzo muttered, planting a soft kiss over each eyelid that covered beautiful scarlet eyes. Gojyo cursed, the large hands gripping his waist desperately.

"You." Sanzo murmured, licking hotly along the lines of twin scars that slashed through the proud planes of the handsome face. Gojyo shuddered and moaned brokenly, the strong brown arms tightening painfully around him.

"Sanzo… San—"

"You goddamn annoying idiot," Sanzo growled in Gojyo's ear; and the poignant moment ended with a shout of laughter from a very happy, overwhelmed, head-over-heels half-breed.



The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves. Victor Hugo



Sweetest Taboo
by Sade

If I tell you
If I tell you now
Will you keep on
Will you keep on loving me
If I tell you
If I tell you how I feel
Will you keep bringing out the best in me

There's a quiet storm
And it never felt like this before
There's a quiet storm
That is you
There's a quiet storm
And it never felt this hot before
Giving me something that's taboo

You give me the sweetest taboo
That's why I'm in love with you (with you)
You give me the sweetest taboo
Too good for me
(Sometimes I think you're just too good for me)






A/N: Damn, this is turning out longer than I had anticipated! And there's still the last chapter to follow… Yes, or rather, no – it's not done yet! (attn waterfall tears… ;-)) This is the discovery fic, after all, and it remains to tell Goku and Hakkai's thoughts about the lovers. Heh. That should be fun… (sweatdrops – I think I can sense another 5 days of no sleep… Heh.)

So then! Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it. All tribute goes to Minekura-sensei for the majority of the back-plot (lifted from the manga), which this mad dreamer has gone and twisted to her own insane 353 imaginings. LOL

See you in the last chapter! Hopefully in a few days… "True Colors" copyright Cyndi Lauper.

"If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad." - Lord Byron

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