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

 

Houtou Castle was silent but for the occasional shift and clatter of rubble settling.  The moon shown full and round above the ruins, giving Sanzo enough light to easily see the devastation surrounding him.  Ukoku's Muten Scripture had done its job well – too well, perhaps, since in the end, it had consigned itself and its master into oblivion, along with all of the inhabitants of the castle. 

 

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 Houtou Castle pressed in on Sanzo, increasing his irritation with Gojyo, who insisted on breaking it.  "Go to hell."

 

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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