Youkai blood seemed to cling to white linen in ways human blood did not. This was why it was so convenient having someone as resourceful as Hakkai around. Hakkai knew shit like that – tips of the trade, he'd say, though if you asked him what trade that was, he'd simply smile his pleasant smile and get busy with erasing those cursed blood stains.

Adjusting his sash around his waist, Sanzo concealed the patch of red splattering the front of his robe, deciding to seek out Hakkai as soon as he got back, let him work his washing magic. Considering the sheer bulk of the youkai skank Sanzo had just pumped a heavy round of bullets into, he realised he'd been pretty lucky not to be drenched in the bastard's guts and what little brains it had, too.

Glancing sideways, he supposed he had Goku to thank for that, in part. The distraction of his usual boisterous, enthusiastic self had opened a decent sized window to take a shot at the beast.

"Man, I'm so pumped I could eat a– a–" Goku frowned thoughtfully, before a grin split his face, "–the whole world!"

"Typical, though the world's off-limits, monkey." Sanzo led them along a quiet, cobbled street, its narrow grey houses set close to the road and of a similar stone, making it look like they'd grown organically, right out of the street itself. "You already had two helpings of dinner two hours ago."

"Yeah, but I didn't have dessert." Looking over at him, Goku flashed Sanzo a cheeky smile, one reminiscent of little Goku who used to trawl the halls of Chang'an monastery in search of mischief. Sanzo resisted the urge to swat him, just as he resisted the urge to snort with amusement at the monkey's audacity.

"It'll be nightfall soon," he pointed out. "I refuse to get stuck in the dark trying to navigate through this rabbit warren of a town."

A glimmer of petulance stole over Goku's features before he schooled it, shrugged, and reached up, linking his hands behind the back of his head. Strolling swiftly at Sanzo's side, Goku looked like a guy wandering idly in a park, not like he'd just aided Sanzo in ridding the town, very violently, of a child-eating youkai. The only thing that gave Goku away was the scrape that grazed down his left cheekbone, curving over the ridge where the youkai had taken a slash at him. Sanzo let his gaze linger a moment longer on Goku; his eyes were massive, taking in his surroundings with the unquenchable thirst he looked at every new thing, although there was something decidedly cooler about his observation this time.

"I dunno if I like it here," Goku said as if on cue, his worn boots scuffing on the cobbles like a toneless soundtrack as he walked. "Everythin's so close together like they were runnin' outta room when they built the place or somethin'. Makes me..." He wiggled his shoulders as if a massive shiver had worked through them. "Uncomfortable, y'know?"

Claustrophobic was the word Goku was no doubt mentally groping for. Sanzo knew this because he felt vague strains of a similar sensation as they neared the end of the street, which led to yet another of almost identical proportions and style.

"Gah! How long have we been walkin' anyway?" A loud complaint accompanied this, from the region of Goku's stomach. "Feels like it's takin' double the time to get back to the inn."

Sanzo didn't say anything. Goku was right; he had the distinct impression they'd already passed the crooked little stone house with the yellow door and wooden cat sitting on the top step. Of course, gaudy decoration may be popular around the area, for all Sanzo knew. He wouldn't be too surprised – there was something unequivocally quaint about the place.

"Sanzo?"

"What?"

"Are we lost?"

"Don't be stupid." Sanzo upped his pace so that Goku had to hop-skip to catch him up. "Of course we're not lost."

"Huh." Annoyingly, Goku didn't sound convinced. A couple of years ago, he would've taken Sanzo's word as gospel, but Sanzo was noticing more and more the subtle changes, the observations and decisions Goku made of his own accord. It evoked a bitter-sweet kind of pride in Sanzo. Weird thought, that Goku was almost his own man.

Weird, too, that Sanzo thought of Goku as a man at all. Time really was flying. It seemed with every new place they hit, the more youkai lay in wait for them, hindering their progress, setting them at a slow trudge to counteract the hearty surge they'd begun when they left the east. They were like a tide hitting a pebbled beach, the wave slowing, grating over the stones the further it reached up the shore. The current landscapes bore more markings of how far they'd travelled, too, every town exhibiting a progressively Westernised feel, from the architecture, to the speech patterns, to the food.

The road curved steadily, seeming to go on and on in a never-ending arch. The problem with the town was that everything followed a similar style, all the buildings looked the same, making Sanzo feel like he was trapped in an endless and frustrating maze.

"I think Hakkai an' Gojyo will be waitin' for us in the bar," said Goku, letting his arms drop to his sides. "I reckon we should head there first, don't you?"

"Nice try," said Sanzo, ignoring the eagerness Goku shone at him. "We're not hitting the bar so you can weasel more food out of my gold card."

"Aw..."

It was highly likely Gojyo would already be in the bar, which Sanzo saw as yet another reason to avoid it and go straight for their room when they got back.

"Hey, Sanzo, look!" Goku pointed ahead, where the narrow street merged with another and both split off to create a crossroad. At the centre of the crossroad was a small circular area with raised cobbles, two benches, and a plinth with a stone monument of a rearing dragon set on top. "I remember this now! We passed it on the way out of town earlier."

"Of course we did," said Sanzo, finally relaxing his pace. "I already told you we weren't lost, idiot."

"Don't ya think that statue looks a little like Hakuryuu?"

"A little," Sanzo conceded, although he doubted even if the statue dragon were real it would be as functional and convenient as Hakuryuu.

As they reached the monument, Goku paused and squinted in both directions. "So we go... that way." Turning to face the left road, he nodded his head sagely.

Sanzo began walking along the right-hand road, knowing full well the left would take them through the main street where all the restaurants and taverns were. After a few moments, Goku once again caught up and fell into stride with him. To his credit, he didn't complain.

After a couple of minutes of peaceful trekking, Goku broke the silence. "Y'know, I think there's a short cut up here."

"How would you know that?"

"'Cause this mornin' when you an' Gojyo were arguing in the bar and Hakkai and me came in to town to get breakfast, he found this neat short cut on the way back."

"That's why you were so quick?" Sanzo raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought he'd told you not to idle at the food counters."

"Heh, no, I idled," Goku said with a misty grin, as if he was remembering a particularly pleasant experience. "While Hakkai looked around the hardware stalls, I won some green tea cakes from the bakery, 'cause the merchant said I wouldn't be able to lift three sacks of flour in one go and carry them to the kitchen."

"Huh," muttered Sanzo. "At least if my card ever runs out, I'll be able to use you to win us food."

"Ha-ha." Goku was still grinning at him, but the grin had grown even warmer. Sanzo looked away. "Oh, I think this is it." Stopping at the yawning mouth of a narrow, shadowed alley, Goku peered through at the shady road that lay ahead.

"Are you sure this is the one Hakkai found?" Sanzo asked, dubious about the dingy quality of the place.

Goku nodded with an unwavering confidence. "This is definitely the one! C'mon, Sanzo, if we make it back we can get some dim sum an'–"

"Che, honestly. Make your own money and you can eat what you want." Striding past him, Sanzo headed into the alley, not looking back. "But not on my watch. I thought I said there'd be no second dinner."

"Dessert," Goku mumbled.

"Just drop it." Not only because the food argument was the most tiresome they regularly had, but also because Sanzo wanted to keep his wits about him. There was something about the alley – the way the walls slanted inward like they were bulging from too much pressure, the way they rose high and cast everything in a tenebrous cloak of dank grey.

"Spoil sport." There wasn't much lustre behind Goku's words, his eyes as large as saucers as he uneasily glanced around. He stuck close to Sanzo's side.

Definitely something dodgy here, thought Sanzo, as the alley shrunk and then widened out again within the space of a few paces. He could hardly picture Hakkai here, but, then again, it wasn't wise to put anything past Hakkai.

A dual symphony of click-click-click echoed all around, their footsteps reverberating off damp stone. In the far distance, Sanzo could see vague figures moving around in sparse lamplight. When he looked back the way they had walked, he could no longer see the mouth of the alley at all – the place had, as had the other streets, been built on a steady curve, so smooth and slight it had been imperceptible. In fact, Sanzo wouldn't at all be surprised if the town were a maze, when looked at from the sky.

As they neared the low glow of the lamps, it became apparent to Sanzo that the alley was a cut-off section of the main street, for down here there were shops, although said shops were grimy, their blackened faces and veiled windows like poor, neglected siblings of the more cheerful, clean establishments elsewhere.

"Whoa, cool!" Goku exclaimed. "I didn't realise there were hidden shops down here."

"Wait up." Sanzo thrust out his arm, drawing Goku to an abrupt halt. "I thought you said this is the short cut Hakkai brought you through this morning."

Goku blinked up at him. "I was eatin' my tea cakes."

It would've made little sense, if Sanzo hadn't known him better. Distracted by food – typical. So very typical.

"But this is totally it," Goku added, although his earlier spark of confidence had waned considerably.

"Huh," was all Sanzo said, unconvinced. Heading toward the flickering outdoor lanterns, Sanzo could more clearly make out the silhouetted figures milling around. People crossed back and forth over the street, or huddled in small flocks in shop doorways, shrouded in a hazy, humid mist. There was a steady, low mumble, like crisp words had not yet evolved down here in this tight, seedy little alley. Nobody seemed truly engaged in riveting conversation. Grunts. Nods. Hand gestures.

Primitive.

Many eyes slowly trailed Sanzo and Goku's progress. Sanzo was aware of gazes boring pointedly into the back of his head, shoulders, and back like nagging pine-needle prickles. Secrets hushed on the small douse of air that wound through the hollow street, spraying Sanzo's face and the dampened hair around his neck with a sordid kind of promise. Whatever this place was, it was evidently disreputable – maybe a gambling quarter, or a poor man's watering hole.

Either way, something wasn't right. He couldn't put a finger on it, but Sanzo didn't like the way his skin goosebumped, the way the street and the people made him feel like clutching his robes about him and quickening his pace, or turning and starting to fire off a few rounds. Nevertheless, he kept his stride, remained on guard as he and Goku walked on, even though humidity mixed with the thick grime of the flagstones worked on tacking his bootheels to the floor.

Some of the shops they passed were up to five storeys high, Sanzo noticed, but they were crooked, at odd angles, insipid in their monotony, like they'd been built specifically to repel those not accustomed to such architecture. Those in the know. He wasn't sure where the thought came from, but it further enhanced his unease. What those rising building faces said was: Keep Out, Unless You Belong Here.

The air grew – not fragrant – but redolent of musk, everywhere, a deep, unsettling musk that wove into Sanzo's nostrils and taste buds and attached itself with thin claws, not letting go. A little sickened, Sanzo swallowed thickly, then clenched his jaw and walked on.

The further they went, the denser became the clusters of lamps beside shop doorways, illuminating rough-made signs and billboards. A few places had hangings in their darkened windows with obscure advertisements written on them.

'TOYS ON HAND', 'CLEAN, HEALTHY SERVICE', and 'SIZE DOES MATTER – WIDE SELECTION AVAILABLE'.

A gaggle of men were crowded around a door to their right, muttering amongst themselves, only ceasing their low banter to turn curious eyes on Sanzo and Goku. A whistle lacking melody rose up in the gloom. Something about it set Sanzo's fingers itching for his Smith and Wesson.

Goku apparently didn't notice, and shortly Sanzo knew why; the monkey sprang forward suddenly and exclaimed, "Oh wow, check it out!" Pointing to their left, Goku made a beeline for one of the shops, stopping beside a large billboard hanging on its front. The sign read 'CHEAP, TASTY MEAT'.

Sanzo's eyes settled on the sign only briefly. What drew his attention was the tall, burly man standing in the doorway with a deep, old scar running over his left eye and cheek – could've been a knife wound, Sanzo thought – and a shirt that looked two sizes too small for his biceps.

The man was staring at Goku with all the interest of a salesman who's spotted his prey and is about to go in for the kill.

Goku, of course, was oblivious.

"Hey, kid, you hungry for something?" the man rasped. Sanzo was often accused of smoking too much, but this guy sounded like he'd inhaled an entire tobacco production line in one go, coughed out a concentrated wad of Cutter's Choice, lit it, then swallowed it back down in one draw.

"Am I ever!" replied Goku, heading for the door with a definite hop in his step.

"Ho, hold up there, lad." Slinging his bulk across the top step, the guy effectively blocked Goku's entrance like a slab of butcher's meat slapped down in front of an ant. Even with his slight, agile frame, Sanzo doubted Goku would be able to squeeze through if he wanted to. "You can't go indulging yer appetite without payin' me first."

Sanzo watched Goku's eager expression morph to that of bewilderment, before the monkey glanced back at him dubiously, as if Sanzo had the answers (or maybe just to check Sanzo hadn't walked on, leaving him behind). Sanzo rolled his eyes, but decided to hang back and see what happened. If the guy got rowdy, it might teach Goku not to let his stomach do his thinking for him.

Drawing a Marlboro out of his packet, Sanzo lit up, casting a bored look around the alley. As he did, he noticed the nearby group of men had all but dispersed, leaving behind just two, who were huddled close together against a wall, talking quietly like it was the most important thing in the–

No, wait.

Sanzo narrowed his eyes.

Two guys, talking together – surely. The kind of talking where there's no breath between them, where mouths are so hungry they're pressed viciously together, where pain is rapturous and oh Buddha they're not talking. Not by a long fucking shot. Sanzo half wished the dankness of the atmosphere was actually poison, that the cloying humidity was the effect of some mind-altering narcotic filtered into the air. That way, he could shrug off the sight translated for him by the soft smack of lips and moans, oh hell the moans.

What was inherently wrong with the whole, sprawling picture of the alley suddenly clicked into place like the rotation of a gun chamber. It was almost a physical jolt, a lurch that Sanzo felt in his legs, chest, and head. The strange behaviour of the residents, the smell in the air – that musty, hot, desperate smell – the inconspicuous, seedy-looking establishments... it was all making horrific sense.

This place wasn't just disreputable; Sanzo had underestimated. It was probably the most disreputable, off the fucking charts, somewhere in the Disreputable Stratosphere.

"Oy, Goku." Sanzo strode over to where Goku was standing. "We're leaving."

For the first time in possibly ever, Goku ignored Sanzo, not breaking eye contact with the burly guy. "Why would I pay for a meal when I don't even know what's on the menu?" he asked.

The guy's ragged face cracked into a gappy, yellow-toothed grin. The laugh that burst forth was smoggy and raw, like his vocal chords had been worn away to mere straining ropes. "You're a cute one, kid – very amusing." The smile fell away so fast it was like it'd never been. "Don't waste my fuckin' time," he sing-songed dangerously.

Annoyed at being disregarded, Sanzo grabbed Goku's cape and yanked on it hard. "Are you listening to me, monkey?" he grumbled. "We're leaving. Now."

"Hoo-ey, what have we here?"

A flush of distaste washed through Sanzo as he turned his gaze up to the big guy, who was staring back with the avid interest of a miner who's just discovered a precious gem. His smoky eye-pits positively gleamed.

Sanzo simply scowled at the guy and tightened his hold on Goku's cape, yanking again, ignoring Goku's indignant spluttering.

"Oh man, you'd look special in my collection. The jewel in the fuckin' crown." The guy's lecherous eyes made lazy work of checking Sanzo out, from head to feet then back up again, lingering around his waist. Sanzo's earlier surge of distaste paled against the disgusted turn of his stomach. "Tell you what," the guy said, now staring at Sanzo's face again, that ugly sparkle still in his coal-black eyes. "You come on upstairs with me for an hour and I'll let your.... friend, here, have a piece of meat so hot and succulent he won't be able to walk straight for a week. Hell, if you give me an hour of your time and he's still horny after his meat-fest, he's more than welcome to join us. More's merrier."

Goku was now silent and still, gaping between the guy and Sanzo – Sanzo could see him out of the corner of his eyes, fancied he could hear the cogs working frantically in Goku's brain. Part of him wanted to witness the moment of perfect fidelity, the dawn of revelation, sure it'd be a hell of an amusing sight as Goku finally understood where they were and what the guy was offering, but Sanzo was disinclined to stick around a whore district for a moment longer.

"Fuck off, pervert," Sanzo shot at the guy. "I'd never be that desperate." Rather than wait around to brawl, Sanzo dragged a stunned Goku away from the shop. The guy shouted after them, but Sanzo didn't break pace, even though the hissed "Bitchy blond cock-tease, what a waste of fresh meat" sorely tempted him to go for his Smith and Wesson and put it to good fucking use.

Further down the alley where the buildings thinned out and tapered off into wall again, he slowed. Goku, who had been silently and obediently walking alongside him, pulled sharply out of Sanzo's grip like he'd suddenly been scorched.

"What?" Sanzo snapped, unwilling to believe the monkey was annoyed about leaving that venereal disease-infested shithole. In all likelihood, Goku was irritable because he'd not found food.

"Nothin'," Goku said. "I didn't realise..." Face colouring, he stared down at the dirty cobbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets hard enough to split the seams and worrying his lower lip for a second. "Sanzo? Was that guy really askin' you to... to...?"

"What do you think?" Sanzo was in no mind to explain it to him.

"I think he's gross," spat Goku, still not making eye contact. He was red to the roots of his hair now, but Sanzo had a feeling it wasn't just embarrassment. There was an edge to his tone, a bitterness that was marked by his next statement. "I hated the way he looked at you."

"What, you think that asshole scares me?"

"No, I mean like he wanted to..." Goku spat on the road. "Like he wanted to eat you or somethin', not fight with you!"

Sanzo's lip curled and he spoke through his teeth slowly and as evenly as he could manage. "Maybe next time you see a sign for food but can't actually smell food, you'll ignore it."

"Shit. Okay." It was but a mumble, sharp and oddly uncharacteristic; Sanzo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Goku this wound up. Pursing his mouth, Goku stomped ahead for a couple of minutes, walking stiffly and not turning around. As if the guy had anything to complain about! He wasn't the one dealing with salivating, VD-infested skanks coming onto him in public.

"Just let it go, monkey," Sanzo finally said, fed up with Goku's sulking. "It's not important. That guy would be street graffiti by now if it was."

An arm shot out like a bar, halting Sanzo in his path. Goku whirled, his eyes blazing, his body tensed up like a coil of steel about to bust and cause a lot of damage. "Right, 'cause I would've killed him," he gritted, his lips barely moving.

Sanzo eyed him with astonishment at the outburst, but it was short-lived. "Che, I'm not some fucking damsel. I don't need you to protect me."

"It ain't that!" Goku shouted, letting out a frustrated curse and reaching for Sanzo. He first caught hold of Sanzo's robe sleeve in one fist, then suddenly transferred his hold to clutch Sanzo's hip, as if he was determined not to let him move away. After this brash, seemingly unconscious movement, Goku settled his other hand on the opposite side, creating two hot points of pressure over Sanzo's hipbones.

"What's the problem?" Sanzo glared down at him, growing unnerved by Goku's behaviour, the intensity he let off like a furnace radiates heat.

"It's just... I don't think I could handle it if..." Squeezing his eyes shut for a second, Goku bit out another, much softer curse. He took a small step closer, one that was a little too close for Sanzo to rationalise. As Goku moved, his palms slid around Sanzo's waist a little way, settling at the small of his back. Fingers twisted in the white linen there, then bunched where Sanzo's spine tapered into tail bone. "I'd hate it if someone else could do this without sucking steel from your gun, 's all."

Throat suddenly like a strip of sandpaper, Sanzo glanced around, but nobody was nearby, unless he counted the small grey rat that scuttled along the wall, its feet a delicate patter. The clients of the whore district were a long way back, fading like a bad dream after waking. All the same, things were again taking a dreamlike turn, as if this scenario – or something much like it – had been playing at the back of Sanzo's subconscious long before now.

Goku's head was lowered, his eyes on Sanzo's bamboo breastplate, his mortification swelling up like a physical smell, hot and set to burn a hole right through to Sanzo's skin.

"He would've been sucking steel long before he got this far." There was weight in that statement, oh yeah. Weight that was too late to take back. It was probably best not to analyse it, but Sanzo could only hear his own words repeating, repeating, repeating in his head.

A gust of surprise passed over Goku's face and he looked up. Damn, Sanzo had been counting on the monkey not reading the deeper meaning, but it seemed he had all the same. For some unearthly reason, Sanzo's frown didn't work, felt stupid and forced and more aimed at himself.

Leaning a little closer, Goku opened his mouth as if he were about to impart a great secret.

A great secret might have been preferable, but all Goku did was stare at him, hovering on the verge of an event Sanzo could sense approaching with the force and speed of a freight train, but had no idea how to defend against it or dodge out of its way.

Now would be the time to pry the monkey off him, clip him around the ear, and lead him back to the inn. The inn that felt a billion miles away, much like Shangri-la, the earth, the universe. They were already late, the sky straining down into the alley faded and burnt close to dusk. But Sanzo didn't (couldn't) move.

"Monkey," he warned, deciding to nip this thing – whatever it was – in the bud.

"Goku," said Goku, tilting up onto the balls of his feet, then tilting his chin to match. "This far?" was all he breathed, sweet and fleeting against the tight set of Sanzo's mouth.

"The fuck are you staking claim or something–"

The admonishment – the one Sanzo would've continued and finished had he been able to talk – was cut short much like his thoughts. What was trapped between them twisted into a surprised hitch of breath, at the point where Sanzo's lips ended and where Goku's began. The breath had been Sanzo's, but Goku stole it away, swallowed it, then returned with a soft, wavering moan like he couldn't quite believe what he was doing.

What he was doing!

Sanzo's head reeled at the contact, not just because it was personal and intimate and un-fucking-believable, but because inside – deep down where he packed away and sealed his true thoughts and feelings – it felt like his self-protective dam was bulging, threatening to burst. No, not burst – more like a cluster of dynamite had been set in the stone and was dangerously close to detonation. Detonation without his signal.

He opened his eyes – when had they closed? – and brought his hands up to grab Goku, by the ears, by the hair; to push him away, to squeeze him to death, Sanzo didn't know. But he paused, taking in the sight. Goku's lashes were shadowing delicate, dark spines over his tanned cheeks, fanning out like artful brush strokes. His forehead was creased ever-so slightly, like he was intent on getting this right.

What a stupid time to be making observations like that, thought Sanzo, right before his focus dropped about three feet. Goku's groin was hot and rising in places it really shouldn't have been, dodgy places that Sanzo found impossible not to linger on. Sanzo knew, on some fundamental level, that if Goku chose to move even a fraction left or right, he wouldn't be able to continue putting the tightness growing in his own jeans down to his imagination.

The dam cracked, splits appearing like a spreading spider's web. Debris puffed out in clouds of dust, settling in the pit of Sanzo's stomach. Splinters flew, and a remarkable lightness swept through Sanzo's limbs, even as his groin stiffened and coiled.

He was losing his mind.

The realisation that the monkey was owning him with a freaking kiss was not lost on Sanzo. Not that he could help it.

When Goku opened his mouth wider, Sanzo's moved along with it, and suddenly the fit seemed to align perfectly, which was insane because they weren't even supposed to be joined at the sodding mouth in the first place. The intimacy flooded Sanzo's senses and knocked him for six, crashed down like a tidal wave coming in from every direction.

Of course, Goku chose then to move, his hands tightening like vices at the back of Sanzo's robe. There was a tearing sound as stitches were tested beyond their limits. A tang of rich, unforgettable saliva hit Sanzo's taste buds as Goku slid his tongue in, in, deep into Sanzo's mouth.

When Goku's mad clutch drew their bodies together and confirmed everything that was going on below their beltlines, Sanzo's universe spun helplessly off axis and he groaned. Oh hell, the sound lingered, a tapered, resonant tenor and Goku lapped it up, drank it in with a returning moan of his own, an octave higher. Tempted further by the slight sway of Goku's body, Sanzo's cock filled and pressed hard like a stone left out in the sun against his abdomen, aching in a way it'd never ached before, as if Goku had the damn thing wrapped around his – well.

Sanzo vaguely thought he should pull away, but the lip-lock riveted him fast. His erection was wanting and doing nothing to help, nor was the faint, tangy salt of fresh sweat on Goku's upper lip, like some energy-enhancing drug. As soon as Sanzo got the taste in his mouth, it was like his nerve endings were flaring brighter under the influence, tuned into some unspeakable throb that seemed to cocoon them on the dirty little street.

The dam was raining boulders now. Soon, it would be but a pile of rubble and Sanzo knew when that happened, there would be no going back – not ever. Oh fuck. Oh fuck he was going to drown at this rate.

Drowning and yet breathing. Breathing clearly, finally, for the first time in years. Mind a perfect muddle, Sanzo took a breath – a deep, enriching breath – and tightened his hold around Goku's shoulders, but did not push him away. Goku kissed him like he was starving, like he was dying, like Sanzo was his and like it was meant to be this way.

Breathe, Sanzo's instincts said. He made a cut-off sound in his throat and his cock jerked in his denims. A litter of soft moans wafted over his cheek and he felt the quick, slick slide of Goku's tongue working at the roof of his mouth, then his teeth, then his lower lip, then pushing again past his teeth. Sanzo pushed back in an automatic defense – he wasn't used to having the damn monkey in his mouth, after all – but that just felt even wetter and hotter and fucking sexier and oh holy hell, he was doomed. He was going to come messily in his jeans and damnit, he was going to do it while groaning into Goku's mouth.

Remnants of the alley, of what he'd seen there and the sensations it had evoked, worked sinuously beneath his flesh, but now they weren't vile or something to draw away from – they were twisted and tripled and made amazing by the shudder and sway of Goku's sinewy, firm body. Sanzo felt his own frame moving with him, their balance forgotten. Those crazy noises rising from Goku, like he was a wounded animal, like he was shooting off out of orbit, beat in time to Sanzo's heart. Fingers clutched Sanzo's robe desperately, digging into Sanzo's lower back for what felt like dear life, no doubt leaving bruised imprints.

Oh hell, if Goku rocked against him once more–

Just once – like that – ah!

That was it; the world exploded in blinding white and Sanzo didn't care any more that he was making noise. All the could sense beneath his own crash was the heat and twitch of Goku's cock through their clothes, all he was aware of was that they could barely stand and were in serious danger of hitting the filthy cobbles, that his own voice broke and rose and sounded nothing like him, or perhaps like him close to enlightenment.

Sanzo tried not to pitch forward and topple them, his body swaying and hips bucking in an uncontrollable, feral thrust, drawing the breath – the life - out of him, along with his rational mind and ability to control his muscles.

The dam was gone, like it'd never existed in the first place. Broken to smithereens and evaporated on the hush of Goku's warm breath, on the sweet-sweat of his lips.

Suspended for endless minutes in bliss, arched over with Goku panting wildly against him, Sanzo's limbs seized and refused to let go as he fell, spinning, open and helpless. The most vivid, brilliant sparks flushed his system, spilled up through him from his jerking balls all the way to his groin, stomach, and beyond. His abdomen was slick with wet heat, wet, desperate heat that began sliding down to his thighs like tears. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was the most intense, incredible orgasm of his life – and it was into his jeans of all places. No hands involved! No long, tedious minutes of frustrated stroking and twisting and growling. Just a few frantic seconds of connection with Goku – that played back in Sanzo's mind as erotic snapshots – and he was reduced to a shuddering, boneless monk who could barely remember his own name, except for–

"Sanzo... Sanzo..." Goku was groaning, clinging with his arms clamped around Sanzo's middle. "Oh man, oh fuck, Sanzo..."

The mess at his groin was copious. His dick had only just stopped jerking out pearls of come. The spasms of pleasure were diminishing, but still wound within him, all ghostly and marvellous, like a welcome memory. Sanzo gasped for breath, found it, drew it in raggedly and exhaled. "Sshh," he breathed next to Goku's ear, needing a chance to gather his mind, his body. "Stop that noise."

"Oh-okay, holyfuck." Goku's arms were shaking as he slowly relinquished his hold. After that, Sanzo found he could breath a little easier.

The disentangle was a silent manoeuvre during which neither Sanzo or Goku could speak. Sanzo extracted his fingers from Goku's hair, his palms flitting over Goku's shoulders before he pulled more forcefully away. Goku, cheeks stained red and face moist with sweat, stepped back, still gasping little breathless hitches.

It was like looking at a different person. It was like seeing someone in a long-distant future, but one that had suddenly caught up because of a tremendous event. It was like looking at Goku in an entirely new light, but one that had been slowly, steadily warming Sanzo for months... years. Another thing: if there had ever been any doubt that Goku was his own man, it had been sweetly and irrevocably obliterated in the last few minutes. Sanzo stared at him, looked away, then stared again, frowning, aching, blissful. Sticky.

"Um," said Goku, voice raspy. He also looked away, then looked back, meeting Sanzo's eyes in a glazed hurry. "I, uh..."

The inner satisfaction that'd flushed Sanzo was diminishing as he became more and more aware of the mess in his denims. The mess he – and Goku – had made. Together.

"We should," Sanzo began.

"Yeah," said Goku, and offered a lopsided smile. A doped kind of light burned in his eyes, a flame Sanzo watched wavering and growing brighter. It was relief, satiation, and ... something Sanzo dared not name.

He wondered what the fuck he was going to do now. Now the flood had started, now it was too late to fortify the dam – the dam he'd built for so long, so very long. The dam that was now non-existent, just shards of jagged rock and broken mortar and splinters of wood, that had been torn down in a manner of seconds, and all because Goku...

Goku...

"Goku," he said, gathering himself with intent. If he didn't get his act together, they were in real danger of getting lost down this shitty little alley, in this labyrinth of a town, in the middle of Buddha-knew-where. "The inn."

"Huh?" said Goku, then a few stampeding heartbeats later he got it. "Oh! The inn. Right."

Sanzo turned away. Let out a not-entirely steady curse. "Let's go." Getting back was what he focused on now. Getting changed, getting his head straight, packing what had just happened away until he didn't believe it any longer, for there was no way he and Goku had just... because those secret, dirty thoughts that struck him now and then couldn't have possibly just become real.

Taking a step reminded him in all too much clarity of his orgasm. So did the next step. So did each one thereafter. But Sanzo decided standing around angsting over it wasn't going to achieve anything, or get rid of the wetness spread over his groin and quiescent cock. Moving was good – moving meant he had a purpose again, moving took his mind off the base satisfaction winding fluidly through him.

Goku's presence did not leave him, but Sanzo focused on the walls, brick melding into brick all in that same grey, yet now it seemed to almost glow. Sanzo put it down to the reappearance of soft, warm street light up ahead; he could see the end of the alley. Thank the Aspects, he finally knew where he was, wondered if the moment they stepped out onto picturesque cobbled road again what had happened might fade away.

Somehow Sanzo doubted it. So did his body.

The hot firmness of Goku's shoulder brushed against Sanzo's arm, followed by a muttered, "Sorry."

Staring ahead as they closed the distance, Sanzo watched the light at the end of the alley, a welcoming, glimmering orange suspended as a hazy mist. That was all that mattered right now, not the click-click-click of Goku's boot heels on the stones, or the barrage of prickles working down Sanzo's arm where Goku had knocked him. One instant of contact, an electrifying response. This was ridiculous. Sanzo thought he might be going soft. He also knew there would be times – and many of them – in the future when he and Goku would touch. Accidentally, and out of necessity.

On purpose, like before. No, that hadn't been on purpose. Not originally.

"Uh, Sanzo?" It had taken approximately three minutes before the strange silence was broken. Sanzo hadn't really expected anything more, or anything less. The monkey had always been an open book to him, but now his pages were sprawled and littering the path before them. There were a number of questions Goku could be about to ask and Sanzo knew all of them, knew what they all related to, and decided he wasn't ready to discuss it.

"Not now."

"But–"

Before Sanzo could cut him off, a flash of colour filled his sight line. Sanzo's perception lurched with ferocity and everything within and outside him shifted. His body became attuned; he knew instinctively what was happening before it happened, before the shriek sounded, before the youkai landed and its arched, yellow talons speared out to block their path.

He had seen this shit a million times before, after all.

"Genjyo Sanzo! You cursed son of a whore!" Slowly unfurling from its hunch, the youkai straightened and looked Sanzo directly in the eyes. Its wide pupils gleamed black and sharp, their sickly yellow rims so thin they looked like stale solar eclipses. "May you rot in all nine hells, holy man. Szygnyie!" The last was spewed like vomit, a youkai insult like no other. Sanzo had heard it only once before in all his learnings, from Koumyou but not directly; an over-heard conversation between his master and an adult apprentice priest when Sanzo had been but a boy named Kouryuu. The concept of Szygnyie had made him physically ill at the time. He recalled months of nightmares thereafter, before he'd finally approached Koumyou and sought reassurance it would not happen for real.

The swear, lower than the basest curse, lashed a vile taste in Sanzo's throat.

Nyoi-bou's shadow stood long and proud over the stones, splitting the youkai's face in half. Goku thrummed. Sanzo absorbed that thrum and tried not to thrive on it.

"Don't bother," Sanzo told the youkai, mentally pushing aside the glaring warning and the insult. He was so not in the mood for this. "Just get the fuck away – we'll let you go, this time."

"How magnanimous of you." A grin sliced up over the youkai's face, teeth like razors in its spittle-webbed mouth. "You'll be the one begging to go by the time I start warming up, son of a whore."

"Oh yeah?" Goku sounded uninterested, although if he'd known of the curse word the youkai had tossed at Sanzo, there was a high chance he'd be a little more wound up. "Why don't ya just piss right off, asshole. Sanzo 'an I aren't gonna bother fightin' ya. You're wastin' your time an' ours." Even Goku's usual comebacks were severely lacking energy. Had their encounter really taken that much out of him? Sanzo doubted it, but he didn't doubt Goku's mind was elsewhere.

"You waltz into my father's town and shoot the place up, you fucking cowards! Fight like real men for once, with your hands and your brains. Or is it that you lack skills in both?"

"Your father's town?" Sanzo repeated, a frown tugging his brow. Now the youkai mentioned it, he seemed vaguely familiar. It was the eyes, those horrid solar eclipse eyes, only the last time Sanzo had seen eyes like that it'd been shortly before he emptied a chamber of bullets into the monster from earlier. "Oh hell, you've got to be kidding me."

"What is it?" Goku whispered, leaning towards him slightly, only now he appeared more interested in the proceedings. Before Sanzo could answer him, Goku sniffed the air once, twice, then made a little grunting noise of distaste. "You're that guy's kid?" His eyebrows shot up. "No way!"

Sanzo, who was greatly tempted to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, let out a sigh that bordered on a growl.

"Jeez, after all the..." Sanzo inhaled, addressed the youkai. "Look, don't make a stupid fucking mistake like your father did. Get out of here. We're not joking and we sure as hell can't be arsed to get into a brawl right now." At that, memories flooded his mind and senses. Woe betide it for Sanzo to forget the taste of Goku for more than two bloody seconds. He inwardly cursed his mind for showing him flashbacks in vivid colour and clarity, like snapshots in dirty magazines.

"You slaughtered my father," the youkai said slowly. Apparently, it wasn't listening to them. "So I will kill you. Say your final prayers, Sanzo and... sidekick. It's time to die!"

"Sidekick?!" groused Goku. "Oh you are so dead, asshole!"

Goku and the youkai sprang at once in tandem, colliding in the middle with a sickening crunch of connecting bone and muscle.

"That's," Goku spat, twirling in mid-air and ducking his head, so that when he landed the youkai's arm narrowly missed his face. "Son..." Kicking out, Goku caught the demon on the calf, but the guy was strong – much stronger than he looked – and didn't even totter. "GOKU!" This time Goku swung with Nyoi-bou, scraping the length along the youkai's shoulder.

A quick tearing sound like linen being pulled apart, and blood splattered on the ground along with the youkai's left ear. "Damn you!" the youkai wailed, rounding on Goku with wild, deadly eyes. A thick course of blood slid down its face, over its jaw, disappearing into the collar of its coat and staining the material. "Damn you to nine hells!"

"You'd better find some new insults," Sanzo muttered, drawing his gun. Cocking the steel, he flexed his finger. "You're going to need them where you're going."

But he paused before pulling. Let out a curse.

The youkai stood between he and Goku. Although Sanzo trusted his shot to hit straight, he couldn't guarantee the youkai wouldn't move out of the way in the next half a second. If the bullet hit Goku...

"Do it, Sanzo!"

"Hold him off!" Sanzo yelled. "Push him back, towards the wall!"

Another swift swing from Nyoi-bou, but it wasn't enough; the youkai leaped up into the air, clearing the staff by almost a foot. "Ha-ah!" it barked on landing, before spinning around so quick Sanzo almost didn't believe it, until it was standing directly behind Goku.

Breath and speech cut off in Goku's throat as a long, bony hand wrapped around his neck. The youkai's yellowed flesh stood out diseased against the golden brown of Goku's skin. Sanzo started at it for a heartbeat, then raised his eyes to glare at the face leering over Goku's shoulder.

"I'll snap his pretty neck," the youkai said. "I'll eat it. I'll eat his eyes."

Slowly, Sanzo shifted his gaze, meeting burning gold. Goku was composed, not a spark of uncertainty on his face and it struck Sanzo like a punch. Goku knew he'd be okay. Goku knew because he trusted Sanzo.

More of a shock was that Sanzo knew he would be okay and kill the beast, because there was suddenly a brilliant, bright path between he and Goku, in the air and on the ground and above – he could see it so clearly he thought he'd be able to touch it if he reached out, put his fingertips to that ethereal glow.

Sanzo's next move rose unbidden, authored by his subconscious, a new reflex.

"All right," the grated, levelling the barrel once again, still staring intently at Goku, although there was no doubt he was speaking to the youkai. A coldness settled in his stomach, momentarily wiping out the slow fizz of his recent release, the sensation of dampness on his thighs, the sounds, sights, smells of the alley. "You just crossed the line."

Goku's eyes said, Do it, do it now! Do it, Sanzo. Sanzo was one hundred percent certain Goku could see the dazzling path, too.

Sanzo's shot roared, splitting the quiet like a thunderbolt. The bullet tracked along the path that connected Sanzo and Goku, that amazing, incandescent path, and struck Goku's shoulder cleanly in the centre. A millisecond later, a piercing scream filled the air and the youkai reeled, falling back in an almost graceful arch, its hand releasing Goku's throat and going to its chest, directly above its heart.

"Nooo!" it gargled, blood filling its mouth and running the length of its chin as it fell. A rattling cough, the thud of a body hitting stone.

Goku sank to his knees. Sanzo took five swift paces and knelt before him. "Are you–?" he rasped, his normal senses and sensations returning to him. The moment the youkai had released him, Goku had clapped his hand over his shoulder. Sanzo tugged at it. "Let me look."

"No, it's–" Goku stared up at him then, and what Sanzo saw in his face made his breath catch, made him look away. "There's nothin' there." Slowly, Goku grasped Sanzo's wrist, steering his fingers over the point where the bullet had pierced him. There was a small charred hole in the material of Goku's shirt, but there was not a hint of blood, nor of a wound. "You got him."

"Looks like," was all Sanzo could manage, aware Goku was smiling at him and very, very close, still holding his wrist in a loose, but somehow wrenching grip. Swallowing, Sanzo got to his feet, slipping his gun back into his robe. A tsunami of questions and exclamations surged through his mind, but he steeled himself. "Come on, monkey."

Goku stood, brushed himself off, looked up at Sanzo with a hint of wariness. "Are we okay? Really, I mean."

Sanzo thought about it, opening his well of feelings wide enough to put the question to the truest part of himself. "We're okay," he concluded, confirming it not just for Goku. Looking down at the fallen youkai, who was now leaking blood onto the cobbles, turning them a dull copper, Sanzo's lip curled with distaste. "Let's get back. It's over."

Goku blinked at him, then a beaming smile rose up over his face, a dazzling one that radiated utter relief and something much richer – happiness. "It ain't over. But that's a good thing," he said softly, and followed Sanzo into the light.

~Fin~