Title: Insatiable (2/?)
Pairing(s): 39, 58
Spoilers: None, post series
Disclaimer: As if I could own something so utterly captivating.
Summary: Sanzo learns that Goku's insatiable hunger extends beyond food.
"What are you doing? Didn't I tell you to rake the leaves?" Sanzo
folded his arms across his chest and scowled down at his charge.
"Done." Goku replied, not bothering to look up from his task. He was
seated on the couch, his legs curled beneath him, a book cradled in
his lap. Sanzo stepped closer in order to examine exactly what title
it was that had the teen's rapt attention. It was a basal reader, one
of the old musty textbooks that had been lying in an empty classroom
that he'd had the teen spruce up.
"What are you doing?" he repeated. Golden eyes glanced up at him, and
he could see the tinge of embarrassment stain Goku's cheeks.
"Tryin' to read," the teen mumbled.
"Trying? You learned how to read years ago."
"I know, but I forgot! I didn't get a chance to practice very much on
the road." His head tilted down, and his index finger began to travel
slowly across the page. Sanzo could hear him softly sounding out the
words; his progress was excruciatingly slow. Goku stopped suddenly,
closed the textbook with a frustrated sigh, and tossed it on the
table in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and then twisted his neck,
the cervical discs crackled as he worked out the kinks.
"Quitting already?" Sanzo challenged roughly, though his anger was
more directed inward; he should have been paying more attention to
Goku's education, even when they were traveling.
"It's not sinking in," Goku replied dejectedly. He leaned over the
armrest of the couch, his chin resting on his forearms, and from that
vantage point, stared out of the nearby window at the bare trees
beyond the temple's courtyard. After a moment of weighing the things
that he'd left unfinished on the desk in his study, Sanzo picked up
the volume and sat beside the teen. The infernal paperwork could
wait; he didn't understand why anyone would want to come to this
remote location to learn his vocation anyway. Goku turned back toward
him; the expression on his face told Sanzo that the teen expected to
be admonished, but his gaze shifted to the textbook as Sanzo opened
up to the first lesson. An elegant finger pointed to the first line.
"Read this to me."
Goku leaned into him, his head brushing against the taller man's
shoulder, and stared at the letterforms, and Sanzo was immediately
transported back through the years. He remembered how they used to
sit like this for hours under the peach tree in the courtyard at
Chang'an, he learning to be a patient teacher, and Goku soaking up
his lessons like a sponge, always hungry for more.
"I can't," the teen replied after a few moments of silence. In
response, Sanzo quirked an eye and shifted the book's position so
that he could wield his harisen.
"Okay, okay!" Goku said hurriedly, balefully eyeing the hateful fan.
Slowly he began to struggle through the text, at first syllable by
syllable, then word by word, sentence by sentence, and finally, page
by page. They stopped only when the room had become so dark that
Sanzo had to turn on a lamp. He glanced at the time then, and found
that they'd been at it for hours. As if on cue, Goku's stomach
"That's enough for today," Sanzo said, laying the book down on the
table. "But we can practice some more tomorrow."
"Thanks, Sanzo," Goku replied sincerely. "Could we also go over maths?"
The monk rolled his eyes, "What, you can't add, either?"
"I can!" Goku replied indignantly, "I mean, Hakkai an' I used to
practice my sums and division, but I think I'm a little rusty."
Sanzo's gaze softened slightly, "Okay, monkey, math too, but you'll
be getting homework then." He thought Goku would protest, but the
teen only nodded in agreement.
Within two weeks, Goku's reading had progressed beyond the remedial,
and Sanzo had learned the monkey's ulterior motive.
"Sanzo, can you show me how to email sometime?" he asked late one evening.
Sanzo peered up from the laptop screen, and over the top of his
"Why?" he asked, his eyelid twitching.
It turned out that Goku had wanted to reach out to Hakkai, and soon,
it seemed, they were involved in a full-blown correspondence. Goku
would be on the laptop tapping away before breakfast, and then again
before he turned in for the night. He was careful not to impinge upon
the monk's computer time, but Sanzo was annoyed nonetheless, though
if he thought about it, he couldn't come up with a good reason as to
why it bothered him. He admitted to himself that at first he'd been a
bit put off that Goku was obviously confiding ~something~ in the
other youkai-something important, Sanzo had decided-and it was all he
could do not to violate the teen's privacy by snooping through his
inbox. In the end though, Sanzo decided that if the issue were at all
serious, Hakkai would have told him about it; and quite to the
contrary, the other man was downright evasive when Sanzo hinted at
his correspondence with the teen. So, the monk convinced himself that
he was relieved not to be bothered by whatever nonsense was occupying
He had more pressing matters anyway. Besides the never-ending
struggle to keep the teen's belly full, a new problem had arisen;
he'd outgrown his clothes. Pants that were too short and shirts that
were too tight hadn't bothered Goku at all, but when he could no
longer button his waist, things had become critical. Of course, Goku
had never thought to bring Sanzo's attention to the matter. Instead,
one morning, he just showed up for breakfast wearing a set of monks'
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sanzo seethed, immediately
relieved that they were alone in the monastery, so there were no
prying eyes to report the scandalous attire.
"Nuthin' fits anymore!"
"What?" he asked incredulously, "You were just wearing your clothes yesterday!"
Goku looked at him then, his luminescent eyes piercing through to
Sanzo's very soul. "Everything's too small." The teen seemed
genuinely perplexed by this development, as he'd worn the same
clothes for as long as he could remember.
For a moment Sanzo was taken aback too. It wasn't that he hadn't
noticed that Goku had been getting taller, it was just that it had
never registered that the physical changes could truly be some kind
of latent growth spurt, instigated by regularly scheduled meals,
exercise and sleep. He grabbed the teen by his forearm and dragged
him to his sleeping quarters. Goku sat obediently on the edge of his
bed while Sanzo rifled through his drawers to find something
suitable. He finally settled on a pair of sweatpants and a pullover.
"Take those off," he said thrusting the clothes at the teen. He
rolled his eyes when Goku hesitated, blushing. "It's not like I've
never seen you naked before, monkey."
Goku silently stood, and shrugged out of the loose robes. They pooled
at his feet, and Sanzo was momentarily stunned by the Adonis that
stood before him. When the hell had the monkey become so ... hot? His
boyish body had filled out in a most pleasing manner, Sanzo decided,
his mouth suddenly too dry.
"What?" Goku asked guardedly. He'd caught the monk ~staring~.
Sanzo's eyes snapped up to lock on the teen's gaze. "Get dressed,
now," he gritted, turning away to hide the blush of embarrassment
that he could feel burning his cheeks. When he turned back several
moments later, Goku was once again decent, though his thoughts still
weren't. Goku bent over and rolled the cuffs of the fleece pants up,
and Sanzo was given an eyeful of a perfectly curved bottom. He
groaned inwardly when he felt the stirrings of an arousal. It was
wrong on so many levels to be even remotely attracted to the teen.
Nevertheless, it took a long time for the afterimage of Goku's
exquisite body to fade away.
He couldn't exactly leave the boy without any clothes to call his
own, Sanzo rationalized as boxes--the fruits of his Internet buying
spree funded by the Three Aspects' Gold Card--began to be delivered
to their remote locale. (Sanzo reasoned that They'd saddled him with
his charge, so They should bear ~some~ of the responsibility of his
upkeep.) And he had to make sure that everything he'd purchased fit,
too. That was the only reason he demanded that Goku model each
article of clothing for him. But, as his eyes roved appreciatively
over the boy's lithe frame, Sanzo did allow that clothes that fit
correctly only served to accentuate the enticing planes and contours
of the teen's body.
"Something wrong?" Goku asked, the uncertainly in his voice pulling
the blond from his musings.
Sanzo found that he was momentarily tongue-tied, and annoyed at that
until he brought his gaze up to the teen's face. There, he could see
all the self-doubt of his own adolescence. He remembered well staring
into mirrors, appraising his lengthening form, ever critical--he was
too pale, too slender, his features were far too feminine. There had
been no one to ameliorate his own disapproving eye, no one that is,
until Goku, who'd always gazed at him with unwavering adoration.
Sanzo took a deep breath, "No," he said curtly, "but you'd better
stop growing soon. I don't plan on buying you new clothes every
"I can't help it!" Goku protested to the monk's back as he left the room.
They'd fallen into an easy pattern, Sanzo thought a few days later as
he gazed out his office window, watching Goku clearing a path through
the first substantial snow of the season.
The teen had taken to awakening quite early, and more often than not,
a cup of steaming tea would be waiting for Sanzo at the kitchen
table, his morning paper and reading glasses beside it. Over a light
breakfast, Sanzo would list the things that Goku needed to accomplish
for the day-usually some handyman's work around the temple-or
immediately after breakfast, he would send the teen on errands, and
then later Sanzo would prepare their lunch. There was little
conversation at the mid-day meal, as the blond would be sifting
through whatever letters and bills may have come by post, and Goku
would be working on the homework that Sanzo had assigned to him the
afternoon prior. After lunch, each would go off to finish up their
various tasks, before they'd meet up once again by mid-afternoon in
the library, to work together on Goku's lessons. When it became too
dark to continue, they'd retire to the kitchen, and the teen would
help Sanzo prepare their evening meal, and then they would clean up
the day's dishes together. The evenings were passed with both of them
curled at either end of the couch; Goku watching satellite TV while
the monk read a book.
Sanzo tried to put his finger on just when Goku had gone from being
interminably annoying to, not completely enjoyable, but rather,
companionable. He snorted, not fully believing it himself that he
actually looked forward to their quiet evenings together. Goku, Sanzo
finally decided, had matured. He was no longer inclined to come
barging in unannounced, expecting the blond to be able to jump into a
conversation that had started some several moments ago. No, it seemed
that the teen had quieted down substantially now that he wasn't
parrying with Gojyo every waking hour. On that point, Sanzo couldn't
remember who'd been more of a pain in his ass, the baiting kappa, or
the ever-so-predictable monkey, but one thing was true, the Goku that
lived with him in the temple now, hardly resembled the little brat
that shared the back seat of Jeep with the redhead.
He continued to stare out of the window, wondering idly what had
caused the shift in the teen's behavior. A snowball smacking against
the pane startled him, and he tilted his head to see the monkey
setting up for another toss. Sanzo smiled wickedly, grabbing his
heavy overcoat and a pair of gloves on his way out into the courtyard.
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