Rating/Warnings: NC-17; voyeurism, nudity, masturbation, sodomy of various sorts, and profanity - you know, the usual
Disclaimer: Saiyuki and its characters belong to Kazuya Minekura and her publishers, not me, and I don't profit financially from this. No copyright or other infringement is intended.
Summary: Sanzo can't put up with more of Gojyo's chatter.
Word Count: ~5500 words
Thank you to kageotogi for the awesome beta-fu. An earlier (and not much different) version of this story was posted to bad_friends on November 28th to catch the 535 festival, which I gather spans from Gojyo's birthday on November 9th until Sanzo's birthday on November 29th.
See the end for the original inspiration for the story.
In his wildest dreams, Gojyo never thought this would ever happen. Sure, he suspected that if His Haughtiness were ever attracted to anyone, it would be to another man, and there was a certain amount of unresolved sexual tension between the two of them, but he had always thought the sexual part of it was one-sided. He never expected Sanzo to reciprocate, if that's what you could call this.
Before embarking on the journey to nowhere, he'd even thought Sanzo-sama had no interest in sex. He was a priest, after all, celibate and untouchable. Besides that, he acted as though emotional connections with others were traps to be avoided and not pleasures to be embraced.
The illusion of Sanzo's lack of sexual desire was shattered early during the journey. There wasn't much opportunity for privacy in their cozy little group whether they were staying at an inn or camping out. That morning, Sanzo left the clearing where they'd slept muttering something about bathing in the nearby stream.
Since he was going in that direction, Hakkai asked him if he would rinse the dishes and pots they'd used for breakfast. He made a face but begrudgingly and silently took the pack Hakkai handed him. Hakkai seemed to be the only one who could get the man off his lazy ass to do anything about the mundane everyday details of life on the road the rest of them had to cope with.
Shortly after the priest left, Hakuryu flew off. Gojyo's interest was piqued, as Hakuryu usually stayed close to Hakkai when he was in dragon form. Following Hakuryu was a perfect excuse to go off on his own and have a smoke, which he wanted to do anyway. As he walked away, he noticed Hakkai examining the map and Goku manufacturing a slingshot out of a rubber band and some sticks, a pastime Gojyo was sure Sanzo would put a quick end to upon his return with a good swift whack of his fan.
He heard some rustling noises in the woods as he walked toward the stream but figured it was small animals passing by. He looked up, searching for Hakuryu, but couldn't locate him in the trees. He wasn't sure why he was walking toward the stream anyway, since he'd left to be by himself, but he was curious to see if the asshole had actually done what Hakkai had asked of him.
He arrived at the stream bank after stumbling over the tree roots and uneven ground on the well-worn path. He could have been knocked over with a feather when he found the dishes and pots sitting there, pretty as could be, nestled on top of the cloth Hakkai had provided to set them on. He was almost equally as surprised at Sanzo's absence, because obviously he had been here. Those pots and dishes, some of which were still wet and dripping, hadn't appeared here or been rinsed by magic, not even the Buddhist magic which Sanzo was reputed to have mastered.
The only magic Gojyo had ever seen him wield, other than the fearsome Makai Tenjyo death the Maten Sutra made possible, was the magic of sexual attraction. If the man had ever wanted to, he could have used those looks of his to seduce countless men and not a few women. Heads turned when he walked into a room. From what he'd heard, the man whose information led Sanzo to Gojyo's door when he was searching for Cho Gonou had attempted to barter his information for Sanzo's sexual favors and was lucky to escape with a mild concussion from Sanzo pistol whipping him.
The same magic also held Gojyo himself in thrall. He'd begun picturing the stuck up prig writhing in pleasure beneath him while he stroked himself to orgasm. It sometimes made it hard to concentrate around the man, but he couldn't stop himself from constructing beguiling fantasies of what he would do if Sanzo were somehow willing.
Lost in his reverie, Gojyo was startled to hear Hakuryu's cry of kyu, kyu. It came from a lofty perch nearby if the direction of the sound were any indication. Gojyo hurried in its direction, not sure if it was an everyday cry or a cry of distress.
As he drew closer, he saw Sanzo's robes neatly folded by the stump of a tree and heard huffing noises underneath the dragon's' kyu, kyus. Straining his neck to look up and s hading his eyes with his hands, he spotted Hakaryu in a tall pine tree. When he looked down, he saw Sanzo leaning against another tree behind some bushes, clad only in his jeans, black undershirt, and fingerless sleeves, head back and resting against the rough bark, his left arm reaching down. Despite Gojyo's inability to see everything in close up detail, it was obvious what Sanzo was doing, given the panting, the look on his face, and the twitches in the muscles of his arm.
Sanzo let loose a harsh cry that sounded suspiciously like a "Fuck!" as his arm stopped moving. He wiped his hand off with a handkerchief he pulled out of his back pocket.
Gojyo watched, transfixed, then realized that Sanzo could easily spot him if he looked in the right direction. He padded away quietly, storing in the back of his mind the knowledge that Sanzo wasn't as unfeeling - or perhaps as inexperienced - as he seemed.
When Sanzo returned to the place on the shore where he'd left the dishes, Gojyo was sprawled on the ground leaning against a tree trunk smoking one of his foul-smelling cheap cigarettes. Sanzo grunted at him.
"Take your bath yet?" Gojyo asked conversationally. He noticed that Sanzo's robes were fastened more loosely than usual.
"No," Sanzo said. He was going to take it now, actually, but he didn't feel the need to announce his plans to the annoying twit invading his private time and space.
"So what were you up to?" Gojyo asked, aiming to sound innocent. Fat chance.
Sanzo looked at him through narrowed slits. "Tch. What business is it of yours anyway?"
"None," Gojyo readily agreed, and inhaled the wonderful fragrance of cigarette smoke deep into his lungs. Damn, that felt good, even if, as Hakkai liked to remind him, he was shortening his life by years. At least it was a more pleasant life with the smokes than it would be without them.
Sanzo huffed a little, as if to indicate that he might appreciate some privacy, but communal bathing was nothing new and Gojyo had seen Sanzo's flaccid dick enough times before not to care. Or at least he hadn't cared until today, when only a few bushes had prevented a view of Sanzo stroking his erect dick.
Gojyo tried to play it cool, looking at the ground in front of him as if he saw something fascinating in the dirt, as Sanzo shed first his robe, then his shirt, sleeves, and finally his jeans. Trying not to focus on anything, the redhead continued to puff away leisurely at his cigarette, making it last as long as possible. Who knew when they'd be passing through a town where he could buy more?
Sanzo gingerly lowered himself into the cold water, careful to avoid the jagged rocks hidden in the greenish-brown water. He was grateful that the kappa was at least quiet for a change. He could yap on and on about anything and everything. The worst part of the tussles between Gojyo and Goku wasn't the physical struggle itself, though he didn't appreciate the jarring blows to the back of his seat, but how damn loud they were. The noise gave him a fucking headache.
Gojyo heard flapping wings. When he looked up, he saw Hakuryu circling above while kyuuing softly, eventually landing on a branch directly above Gojyo. He hoped Hakuryu hadn't just eaten.
While Gojyo was worrying about getting dumped on by Hakkai's tame dragon, Sanzo splashed water on himself. Deciding it was too cold to try rinsing his hair, he trudged out of the water onto the shore just as Gojyo gave up worrying about dragon shit.
Gojyo tried hard not to stare, but Sanzo noticed anyway. "What are you looking at, you pervert?" Sanzo said, a note of challenge in his voice as he walked toward his clothes and the cloth he'd brought to dry himself off with.
Gojyo wanted to say, "You, beautiful," but he didn't want to get into it with the bastard right now. Instead, he muttered, "Nothing," scrambled to his feet and beckoned to Hakuryu. He hoped he could convince the dragon to follow him out so it wasn't so obvious that he was running away like a coward. Besides, this way Sanzo wouldn't notice his reaction to seeing him completely naked, dripping wet, and stimulated by the cold water from which he'd just emerged.
"If you're leaving, you can fucking well take that shit back," Sanzo gritted from behind him. Gojyo flapped a hand at him dismissively, but he picked up the dishes and pots that weren't still wet and placed them in the knapsack, calling out, "I'm leaving the shit that's still wet for you, asshole." Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he made noises to attract Hakuryu's attention and began trudging in the direction of camp.
He veered off partway there and found a secluded spot to take care of his own needs. As he relieved his own aching erection, he recalled how a certain blond monk with an attitude problem had looked and sounded while engaged in the same act.
That was several months ago now. It had taken Gojyo time and effort to wrap his brain around the idea of His Haughtiness engaging in any form of sexual release. He supposed it shouldn't have surprised him - after all, it was widely believed that your energies became blocked if you didn't have sex, or at least an orgasm, on a regular basis - but a priest? This priest?
It wasn't so much the vow-breaking, though Gojyo didn't know if masturbating violated his vow of celibacy, but the human frailty involved. Wasn't human desire the very thing he was supposed to avoid and transcend? Wasn't that, and a desire to avoid further pain by avoiding entanglements with others, what made him such a surly bastard in the first place? Or was he just scratching an itch, relieving a physical need he equated with relieving himself in other ways?
An even better question was what the prissy priest thought about as he did it. Did he have any experiences to remember, any fantasies to cherish? Who did he picture while he jerked off?
Ever since then, Gojyo had kept a closer eye on Sanzo, especially when they were staying within earshot of each other. Now that he was paying attention, he'd heard creaking bed springs and almost inaudible groans and grunts coming from the thin wall between them when their rooms were adjacent. When that happened, he couldn't hold back. He'd stroke himself while thinking of angry violet eyes, thin lips, and shining golden hair hiding the chakra symbolizing Buddha's favor.
All these questions came flooding back as the formerly unattainable blond beauty clutched Gojyo's hair while Gojyo's moist lips were wrapped around his cock, taking it in further and further until he nearly gagged. Exactly how did they get from there to here?
Earlier that day, an argument flared between him and Goku while they were bumping along the road. Nothing unusual there, except this one had gotten more physical, nastier, and noisier than usual. Gojyo didn't even remember anymore what it was about, it was that stupid, but he'd let loose some epithets that had gotten under Sanzo's skin. Usually he swatted the two of them impartially, but this time he came down harder on Gojyo than Goku, even clicking off a warning shot.
They'd settled back down into their seats, Goku crossing his arms and leaning forward until his head was cradled in his arms and touching the back of the front seat where Sanzo sat, while Gojyo leaned back and lit another in the endless queue of cigarettes he smoked. Hakkai had told him that even if the quest didn't kill him, the cigarette smoking would, but that applied double to Mr. Wonderful and you didn't hear Hakkai lecturing him, did you?
An argument broke out during dinner because Gojyo swiped the last egg roll and the last of the rice while Goku was busy eating messy but delectable barbequed spareribs. The usual insults of "pervy kappa" and "chibi chimp" were exchanged and fried noodles used as projectiles.
Sanzo had enough and stood up and shot into the ceiling. It was just another thing for Hakkai to have to explain, smooth over, and use the gold card to pay for in the morning. Bringing the hand with the gun in it down by his side, he grabbed the front of the kappa's shirt with his other hand and said, "You, come with me. Now."
Gojyo's mouth formed a round "O" of surprise, then he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Whatever you say, man," as he stood up and dropped his chopsticks on the table. Hakkai looked puzzled and Goku resumed eating now that his competition for food was leaving.
Gojyo asked, as Sanzo practically dragged him away, "So what's got your panties in a bunch?" but Sanzo didn't bother to answer him. He just glowered at him.
"Okay, so where are you dragging me to?"
He didn't get an answer to that question either. He thought maybe he'd be dragged outside for a lecture while the two of them indulged in their cigarette addiction. Though even then half the time he had to give the asshole a light or something. Sanzo didn't usually ask for a cigarette, though; he much preferred his own expensive brand-name smokes to Gojyo's less expensive generic ones, even going so far as to complain about their stench.
Instead, Sanzo dragged him down the hallway where their rooms were located. He kicked the door to his own room in after unlocking it one-handed, having long since stowed the gun in the black hole that apparently dwelled within the sleeves of his robe. He practically threw Gojyo on the floor while he sat on the bed, withdrawing the gun from his sleeve and placing it on the nightstand and drawing a cigarette out of his pack.
"What's this all about, anyway?" Gojyo asked, rubbing his knee where he'd hit the floor and the corner of his shoulder that Sanzo had pinched when he dragged him away. Bastard. He'd probably have bruises there tomorrow.
"You, shithead," Sanzo replied, leaning back and exhaling a ring of smoke through those pouty lips of his. "If I have to shoot you to get you to shut up, I will."
Gojyo raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever, man. I didn't think things were any worse tonight than usual, so what's your problem?"
Sanzo sighed. How could he explain to this dunderhead how wearing it was to listen to him bait Goku day in and day out and how he'd completely lost patience with it? "I wish I had a fucking tape recorder so I could play back your antics for your stupid kappa ears. You're not a fucking kid anymore, so why can't you act like a grownup?"
Gojyo glared. "How about the fucking monkey? He's not blameless in this."
"Actually, he is," Sanzo growled. "He only reacts to your goading. If you'd lay off, so would he." Why the fuck did he have to explain this to him? It would be better if Goku didn't respond to Gojyo's teasing, but it was Gojyo's teasing that set him off in the first place. Maybe he'd have Hakkai explain all of this to Goku. He could do a better job of it than Sanzo would; he'd be able to stay calm and not yell at the kid.
Besides, Goku was enough younger than Gojyo that he was inclined to cut him a little slack. On top of that, Goku's development had been slowed by the endless years he spent rotting away in the cave from which Sanzo had freed him. On the other hand, Gojyo didn't act nearly as mature as Hakkai did even though they were the same age.
"Is that all?" Gojyo started getting to his feet.
The kappa's smug, flip attitude pissed him off no end. Sanzo had grudgingly come to respect his fighting ability and his loyalty, though the latter trait was directed more toward Hakkai and the group than toward him personally, but the redhead couldn't think ahead and tended to follow his own misguided sentimental impulses, which got them into shit like that whole Kami-sama debacle.
"No," Sanzo said, sweeping his feet out from underneath him so he fell back to the floor. Shit, he might have caused him another bruise, but he couldn't be bothered to care much about it. "What the fuck is up with you spying on me?"
Gojyo thought he'd been discreet, if that was the right word; he'd learned it when Hakkai complained about his indiscreet bar-hopping love life. "Whaddya mean?"
Sanzo puffed on his cigarette and said flatly, "You've been following me around and listening in on me ever since that time I went to that stream to wash up."
Shit. Did that mean he also knew that he'd witnessed him getting off beforehand? Or that he knew that Gojyo had snuck off by himself on the way back to have a wank while remembering what Sanzo's face looked like when he did the same thing?
Still committed to denial, he replied, "You've lost me. You bathe in lots of streams."
"The one Hakkai asked me to rinse the dishes in. The one where I caught you staring at me when I got out."
Gojyo winced and closed his eyes, fingers pressing on the sudden throbbing pain in his forehead. Although that made his view of an enraged Genjyo Sanzo disappear, it had the effect of bringing the image of him walking out of the water full-on nude to mind with complete clarity.
Sanzo went on. "The one where you'd been spying on something private."
When Gojyo opened his eyes again, Sanzo had bent down and was glaring directly at him from a few inches away. He didn't usually see his face quite this close up, and while he wasn't pointing his gun at him, having him in his face like this was intimidating.
Gojyo started backing up. Sanzo grabbed the front of his shirt. Gojyo was sure he was about to be smacked.
Instead those intense violet eyes got closer and closer until Gojyo felt his lips mashed against the other man's. Conflicting thoughts swirled around in his brain to the point where he felt like it was about to break: Hadn't Sanzo just chewed him out for having spied on him? But damn, this felt nice; how could he convince the bastard to keep going? Why him? Was Sanzo just working him up so he could shoot him with his Smith & Wesson at the most inopportune moment?
The reptilian brain that responded to basic needs went into overdrive. Damn, he was aroused. Not that it would usually bother him, but in this situation it was just one more thing that would piss Sanzo off.
But since he was probably deader than a doornail, or some other equally dead thing, maybe it didn't matter what he did. Fuck discretion. Throw caution to the winds. Before he died, he'd at least show that prick of a monk what real kissing was like.
His tongue darted out from between his parted lips and pushed at the lips pressing so insistently against his. When the owner of those lips let out a shallow gasp for breath (Sanzo didn't know how to kiss, Gojyo concluded), he pressed his advantage to push his way into that warm, if not welcoming, mouth. His tongue brushed over the pink tongue that was just lying there doing nothing.
Well, if Sanzo wasn't going to help - or put up any resistance, it seemed - he'd have to do all the work. He swirled his tongue around the inside of Sanzo's mouth, tasting the Marlboros and the beer he'd had with dinner and just a faint hint of bitterness.
Just as suddenly as he'd mashed his lips up against Gojyo's, Sanzo pushed him away and their lips separated with a 'pop'! Those violet eyes, now turned deep purple, examined him, considered him, like he was some kind of insect pinned to a display board. Shit, he was in for it now.
So he was plenty confused when Sanzo pulled him back toward him. This time Sanzo plunged his tongue into Gojyo's mouth and swept it around artlessly; it felt rough, warm, and needy. He made up for what he lacked in technique with a certain rough enthusiasm.
Gojyo was sure he'd been shot and died without hearing the report of the gun or feeling the pain of the inevitable wound. What he wasn't sure of was whether he'd died and gone to heaven or to hell. Heaven if dream-Sanzo would only continue this with him; hell if dream-Sanzo left him hanging.
Somehow he found his fingers curled around the man's neck, stroking his golden hair. Searching for some friction to relieve his hard-on, he leaned forward, almost falling to the floor and suddenly breaking his contact with that mouth and those lips.
"Asshole," Sanzo spat out, jerking him back upwards. Pot calling the kettle black, Gojyo thought, but he didn't bother expressing those sentiments. Desperate for contact, he inched forward and, clutching Sanzo's hips, ground against Sanzo's groin.
What he felt there was evidence that the man was human after all and not some ice sculpture come to life. He was just as hard as Gojyo was. Did Sanzo really want him? Or would just anyone do?
He hissed with loss when Sanzo pulled away. Looking up at him questioningly, he saw Sanzo abruptly pull himself up on the bed with his pants pulled down.
Sanzo leaned over and pulled Gojyo up on his knees. Shit. What did he expect? Did he expect him to go down on him?
Fucker. It wasn't like he'd never done this before - a few times with Banri when he was drunk, and a few times with Hakkai, not drunk - but it was something you should at least ask about and not assume. "Wha-" he began, and then Sanzo stuffed his cock in his mouth and all he could do was gum words around it. Fucker was getting off on it too. It probably gave the prick a buzz or something, like his lips were vibrating against his shaft.
Gojyo became quiet and concentrated on the task at hand. That shithead had better repay him for this. For now he just wanted to give him the best blow job ever to loosen him up. He wanted to give the fucktard the fuck of his life, so melting his brain with The Best Orgasm of His Life was probably his best hope of achieving his objective without being shot first.
Sanzo was moaning and thrusting into Gojyo's mouth. One of the advantages, as far as Sanzo was concerned, was that it was guaranteed the perverted kappa would shut the fuck up. Let him do something he was good at that would make the recipient feel good as well. That was about as close to a win-win proposition as he ran across these days in this shitty world where youkai went berserk and viewed humans as--
Maybe the 'humans as food' analogy wasn't the best one to think about while he had his dick stuffed down a half-youkai's throat. As Gojyo sucked and licked and stroked and caressed, Sanzo leaned backward and closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation, until he came, half-choking the other man.
"My turn," Gojyo said after he'd swallowed, pushing Sanzo backwards on the bed and pulling his pants off. The lingering taste on his tongue was bitterer than anything.
Angry purple eyes stared at him. Sanzo's arm swept up, cuffing the side of his head, but then bringing him down for a kiss. Talk about mixed messages.
No matter how much of an asshole the man pinned underneath him was, Gojyo didn't take what wasn't offered willingly. "You okay with this, man?" he asked.
Sanzo just grunted. "Tch. Get on with things," he gritted out, still glaring at him.
Apparently being pissed off turned him on or something. Gojyo pulled the bottom of the black undershirt up. Sanzo didn't move, didn't do anything to help him take it off, so Gojyo contented himself with pulling it up around his chest so it wouldn't get stained.
In the meantime Sanzo fumbled with the button on Gojyo's jeans. Once it was loosened, he slowly unzipped them and pushed them and his boxers down. Gojyo pulled them off and threw them to the side.
"Lube," he muttered.
"What, you don't carry it around with you?" Sanzo said mockingly.
"Nah. I have some back in my room that Hak--" He stopped, realizing he'd begun spilling the beans on his relationship with Hakkai. It wasn't his secret alone and it wasn't fair to reveal it without Hakkai knowing about it.
Sanzo rolled his eyes. "Feh. You think I didn't know?"
Gojyo shook his head. "So you knew." It made him wonder all the more what Sanzo was doing with him. Was he jealous?
Sanzo must have read his mind, because he said matter-of-factly, "This doesn't have to do with the two of you. Or even with the two of us."
"Whaddya mean, it doesn't have to do with the two of us?" Gojyo asked.
"I mean it's not a 'relationship'." Sanzo managed to put air quotes around those words just with his intonation. "No one's going to send a fucking thank you bouquet afterward. It is what it is."
And what is that, oh great Sanzo-sama?, Gojyo thought, but he didn't say it. Instead he said, "Open your mouth."
Sanzo scowled at him, clearly untrusting. "No lube, remember?" Gojyo said patiently. "Or do you want it to hurt?" Though given how beat up he sometimes got during their skirmishes with the enemy du jour, maybe he was in fact the kind of person who enjoyed rather than avoided physical pain. Maybe it allowed him to better handle whatever emotional pain he wanted to forget.
He figured Sanzo got the idea, since he parted his lips and let Gojyo thrust his fingers into his mouth. Gojyo almost got the shivers as his fingers slid in and out of that pink cavern. Sanzo only opened his mouth far enough to permit entrance and sucked on the fingers as they were removed so they'd collect as much saliva as possible.
"Turn over," Gojyo said when he removed his fingers for good, satisfied that they were slick enough.
Sanzo grunted but complied. Gojyo would have told him that this position was easier for first-timers, but sine he wasn't sure at this point what Sanzo had or had not done before, he figured it was better to say nothing.
Gojyo took his time, wiggling his fingers around carefully and hitting a spot that made Sanzo moan. He yearned to tell Sanzo that he'd always known he was a tightass but didn't want to anger him further and fuck up this opportunity. Who knew when something like this would arise again?
Gojyo teased Sanzo's entrance with the tip of his cock. Sanzo turned his head, huffed, and said, "Just fucking get it over with, idiot kappa."
Gojyo thought, I wonder if I can use that impatience to get him to beg? All he said, however, was, "Don't be so impatient, unless you want this to hurt."
"Tch," Sanzo responded, but he turned back around.
Gojyo planted a kiss on the man's right cheek and was amused when it twitched. Then he eased himself in. Yeah, that ass was tight. Snug, like a close-fitting glove.
Speaking of gloves, how hot was it that Sanzo was still wearing those fingerless gloves, or sleeves, or arm-warmers, or whatever the fuck those things were, as well as his undershirt, which was hiked up far enough that Gojyo could play with his nipples? Placing his left hand on Sanzo's left hip, he used the right hand to tease his right nipple while slowly pushing into that velvet heat until his balls were seated against that tight ass.
While tight, it seemed suspiciously easy, as if this weren't the first time Sanzo had done this. Gojyo was a little disappointed that it seemed likely he wasn't the first man to fuck him, although that begged the question of who and under what circumstances. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Move, damn you!" Sanzo growled.
While he didn't always do what Sanzo told him, this time he did, throwing caution, his partner's well-being (and how topsy turvy was it that the term could be applied to Sanzo, even if only in the sense of the other party to consensual sex acts?) and possibly his own sanity to the wind. He stopped playing with Sanzo's (his partner's) nipple, moving his right hand to Sanzo's right hip to match his grip on his left hip and snapping his own hips forward.
His tempo grew increasingly frantic and heated as Sanzo pushed back against each thrust. By now the priest whose body was being profaned (or was worshipped the better term?) so thoroughly had his back arched and his head tossed back, panting and shuddering, arms nearly too tired to hold him up any longer. He soon collapsed, exhausted, resting his torso on the bed and his pillow.
Gojyo was practically pounding into the monk's ass; he reached underneath his pale body, both to gain more leverage and coax Sanzo to another orgasm. He heard Sanzo's breath hitch when he wrapped his hand around his cock and started sliding it up and down.
It only took a few strokes to get Sanzo to come again. Tch, the Ice Princess wasn't so frigid after all, it seemed. Then the thought of having squeezed another orgasm out of that tightass sent Gojyo over the edge, his hot wet come spurting into Sanzo's (his partner's) body while pleasure and contentment overcame him.
Gojyo wound up draped bonelessly over Sanzo's body until an elbow to his solar plexus caused him to roll off to the side. "Shit, man," Gojyo complained, touching that white neck, "that's no way to act when you've just had the fuck of your life."
"Get the fuck off of me," Sanzo said, flicking Gojyo's hand away. "I like to be able to breathe."
This was an ironic statement in light of his appetite for cigarettes, but since they shared that vice, Gojyo refrained from commenting on it. Sanzo sat up, straightening his shirt and checking his gloves for stains. He walked to the bathroom and emerged with two wet washcloths, one of which hit Gojyo in the face with a 'splat' and the other of which he used on himself. After drying himself off with a towel, he put his jeans back on and sat there smoking another one of his ubiquitous Marlboros.
In the meantime, Gojyo cleaned himself up and started dressing himself. The atmosphere was a bit awkward. It felt like Sanzo was finished with him. Only time would tell whether this was the start of something or an aberration to be forgotten and never spoken of again.
"Get the fuck out," Sanzo said, lazily exhaling. "Remember what I said?"
So he shouldn't get his hopes up. He crossed the room and hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. "I-"
"Don't say it," Sanzo ground out. "I just wanted to shut you the fuck up and that seemed like the easiest way to do it."
"Oh." Gojyo turned the doorknob and left the room. He supposed he should be thankful that at least Sanzo had let him live.
Once the door had closed, he leaned against the other side of it. Bastard. Why did he make him feel like that?
As he pushed away to walk to his room, he heard noises coming from the room he'd just exited. It almost sounded like singing. Well, whatever the fuck the man was doing now, he didn't care.
Back in the room, smoke circled around Sanzo's head as he chanted, trying to clear his mind of the images of a scarred face, red hair and red eyes, and knowing hands.
A/N: The original inspiration for this story was the following sentence by xglimpsex in the 1sentencepr0n thread:
Well, the priest rationalized, at least the fucking kappa can't talk while he's-- fingers closed in crimson hair, urging the hot mouth closer.