Title: When the Fighting Stops
Author: samsarapine
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gojyo/Sanzo
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Summary: Sanzo had never touched the Seiten Scripture.
Word
Count: About 1,850
Disclaimer: Genjyo Sanzo, Sha Gojyo and all associated characters from the Saiyuki universe are the property of Minekura
Kazuya and those to whom she has licensed her creations. No copyright
infringement is intended. The author is making no profit from this story.
Notes:
Written for Ssjbento for her birthday, for the prompt
"Gojyo/Sanzo, post final battle."
Website: http://samsarapine.livejournal.com
Email: samsarapine [at]
yahoo [dot] com
When the Fighting Stops
There
were only four scriptures left. When
this world died, the remaining sutras wouldn't have the balance or power needed
to usher in a new one. Not that it
mattered.
Sanzo
slouched on a chair in the ruins of the laboratory that had housed the Minus
Wave generator. He stared at the Seiten Scripture in his hands, the comfortable anger of the
Maten Scripture lying warm and heavy across his
shoulders as if it were peering down at the roll of ink and cloth, too. Strange to think, he'd never touched the Seiten Scripture before.
It had been taken in the moment he'd become responsible for it, warm and
red with the lifeblood of his master's body.
Now
the cloth was pristine. No sign of Koumyou's blood, no record of his death. But then, his own blood had often soaked the Maten Scripture and it still remained clean, its writing as
crisp as the day it was inked, so that meant nothing. Sanzo imagined all Sanzos
must have bled under their burdens at some time or another, and had similarly
been made clean within their sutras' fibres.
The
Seiten Kyoumon was supposed
to hold the power of healing. Sanzo
closed his eyes. He'd never been a
healer in his life.
The
scripture felt dead in his hands, but he wasn't sure if that was because it had
been corrupted by its use in Gyumaoh's resurrection,
or if Sanzo himself was simply too weak to awaken it. If it had retained its power, would it have
changed anything? Kougaiji
had died, and the brat, and the kappa's half-brother. In the end, they'd been allies… Sanzo snorted
angrily.
Fucking ego. As if he
could have saved them anyway. Or even wanted to, for that matter.
The
Maten Scripture rustled irritably, and Sanzo heard a
footstep behind him. He didn't bother to
turn; he knew who it was, and he had no desire to talk.
"Got
a cigarette?" Gojyo pulled up a
chair and sat next to him.
"Fuck
off."
The
kappa leaned back in the chair, balancing it on two legs against the wall. "Finally got it back, huh?"
The
silence of a crushed and empty
Gojyo
ignored him and patted his pockets, finally pulling a battered pack of
cigarettes from his jeans. He tore it
open and shook out a crumpled fag, then lit it and sucked the smoke in deep
with hedonistic abandon.
"Here."
Sanzo
focused on the cigarette under his nose.
After a deliberate pause, he accepted it and took a deep hit before
passing it back. He let the smoke trail
out of his mouth.
"So. What
now?"
"Nothing." The word
tasted round and felt empty on Sanzo's tongue, like a reflection of the moon on
water. Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw the kappa glance at him sharply, a frown on his face.
"Nothing?"
Sanzo
rubbed his thumb over the cloth and paper of the scripture. Nothing.
The
kappa took another hit of the cigarette and passed it to him again. Smoke rose from the thin ring of burning
tobacco and paper.
Sanzo
ignored it, and didn't protest when Gojyo took the cigarette back. Gojyo smoked it to the butt, not offering it
to Sanzo again. Sanzo felt like he could
give a rat's ass, and just wished the bastard would go away.
The
chair came down with a bang. "Fuck
this," Gojyo said. He grabbed Sanzo
and threw him to the floor.
The
Seiten Scripture bounced and rolled away in a lazy
arc.
Sanzo
froze, too surprised to move for a moment before he thought to struggle. But the fucking kappa was half-demon, and
though he was the shittiest fighter of the group, Sanzo realised that when he
got the jump on a person, he was fucking strong enough.
He
tried to close his mouth against the invasion of Gojyo's lips and tongue, but
he might as well have been trying to dam a river with a finger. Gojyo flowed into and through and around him,
dragging him down like a current, stretching him on the floor and pinning him
there with his weight and his mouth and his clever, clever hands that touched
Sanzo fucking everywhere, making his cold skin burn.
He
braced his elbows on the floor and pushed.
"Asshole!"
Gojyo
looked down at him with his blood-red eyes, his hair a curtain around Sanzo's
face.
Sanzo
glared. "Don't be a fucking
fool."
A smile quirked Gojyo's lips. "Too late for that,
Sanzo-sama." His eyes softened. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna fall
for you." He moved closer.
The
kappa's mouth was hot, hotter than a human's, his half-demon blood setting
Sanzo's body alight and burning his tongue.
He fought back, biting, but Gojyo easily evaded his teeth and slid a
hand under his robes, brushing his fingers against the rapidly growing bulk of
Sanzo's prick. Sanzo arched into the
heat and grunted.
"That's
it," murmured Gojyo. The
satisfaction in his voice made Sanzo want to scream, but Gojyo moved his hand
and Sanzo's breath caught instead.
Another quick movement, and Sanzo's naked cock was in the kappa's hand.
"I'll
kill you," Sanzo panted.
"I
figured you would." Gojyo grinned
again. "Doesn't
matter. I always wanted to die in
bed." He leered. "Hang on. It's gonna get
really good from here."
The
fucking bastard made good on his promise, too.
Sanzo's breast plate fell to the side, the Maten
Scripture fell from his shoulders, his robes fell open, his shirt was pushed up
to his armpits, his jeans were stripped from his body and he fell prey to a
wicked and knowing tongue that was everywhere, sucking his nipples, laving his
stomach, swallowing down his prick. He
writhed against Gojyo, his breath catching as the tongue moved away from his
cock and trailed over his testicles and beyond, until it was stabbing into his
arsehole, driving Sanzo to curse and thrust into Gojyo's hot hand.
Gojyo
heaved, and Sanzo found himself on his shoulders. He felt blunt pressure on his hole and then a
stretching burn as Gojyo sank into him, his eyes screwed shut and a look of
bliss on his face.
Sanzo
grabbed Gojyo's arms. "You
bastard!"
"Hang
on." Gojyo rolled his hips.
Sanzo
caught his breath as the burn blossomed through him, and then Gojyo was fucking
him, hitting a spot inside that made Sanzo's body soar and his prick hard as
iron, filled with his blood.
Like
the scriptures.
He
had the sudden insane impulse to wrap the sutras around his prick, to dirty
them with his sweat and blood and semen just like Gojyo was dirtying him,
because dirt and blood and semen meant life and were worth
more than some fucking Buddhist creation magic any day.
He
let go of Gojyo to pump his cock in time with Gojyo's thrusts, panting and
bracing himself with his free hand.
"Harder,
you prick," he snarled. "Fuck
me!"
Sweat
dripped down Gojyo's face as he grinned and braced Sanzo's thighs. Sanzo could feel the shift in leverage as
Gojyo started pounding in harder.
The
sensations built in Sanzo's arse, pushing him higher and higher until he
squeezed his cock in a punishing grip, desperate to come, cursing steadily to
keep himself from keening with pleasure.
Gojyo
huffed. "Fuck, you're
tight." He groaned and threw back
his head. "I can't go much longer. I'm getting close."
Heat
spiralled through Sanzo's body to pool in his prick. He grunted and pulled and then he was coming,
his cock pulsing as Gojyo battered his prostate with each thrust. Sanzo groaned, the sound torn from his throat
and gut. Coming hurt like living hurt,
and was worth every second of soaring, euphoric pain.
The
kappa's movements became erratic. Gojyo
stiffened and pushed in hard. Sanzo
could feel heat spread deep inside as Gojyo pressed tight against him,
groaning. Then Gojyo collapsed, panting,
his weight pinning Sanzo to the floor.
Fuck. Sanzo stopped struggling and tried to catch
his breath.
He
ached everywhere: his arse, his cock, his back and shoulders. He'd have to hide his body from the others
for a few days, since he suspected he'd have a bruise in the shape of a perfect
handprint on the back of either thigh.
He pushed at the kappa's sweaty body.
"Get
off me."
Gojyo
rolled to the side, stretching out on the cold concrete floor. He grinned at the non-existent ceiling. "You're a pretty good lay."
Sanzo
grunted and closed his eyes.
"Shit." Gojyo stirred beside him. "This floor's hard." Sanzo opened his eyes as Gojyo got up and
reached down for him. He decided he didn't
want to move yet, so he turned his head away and ignored the kappa's hand.
Gojyo
shrugged and pulled on his jeans, hopping to get the skin-tight fabric over his
arse. He did them up and leaned over,
reaching for the rest of his and Sanzo's clothing.
"Shit!" He dropped the clothes and looked at them
more closely. Sanzo frowned and looked
over to see what the idiot was on about.
Gingerly,
Gojyo picked up the Seiten Scripture and held it out
to Sanzo. It moved in his hand.
Sanzo
leaned up on an elbow and took the scripture out of Gojyo's hands. It was warm, but strangely cool
at the same time. The cloth undulated in
his palm then went still.
Sanzo
looked up through the ruins of the castle.
The full moon hung low in the sky above him, alive and distant and cool
and calm as the scripture in his hands.
He
laid it across his naked shoulders, where it settled with a whisper and a
sigh.
Sanzo
swore and reached for the rest of his clothing.
His arse twinged. He looked at the kappa with disgust. "Pervert."
Gojyo
produced a pack of Sanzo's Marlboros seemingly from nowhere. "'S okay. Got what I wanted." He grinned and held the pack in the air,
backing out of Sanzo's reach before he turned and walked away. Sanzo saw him cup his hand around a
match. Cigarette smoke wafted in the air
and Gojyo waved a lazy hand.
"Later."
Sanzo
glared.
"Idiot,"
he muttered.
The
moon picked out mysteries in the ruins around him, but he got to his feet,
pulling on his clothing and resettling both scriptures across his shoulders.
No
more sitting around.
He
followed the smell of Gojyo's cigarette, and didn't look back.
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