Title: I WANT.

Author: Vamp

Pairing(s): Gojyo x Hakkai

Rating: R

Summary: It was a stupid thing to argue over in the first place, but whether the consequences are even more sunning or stupid he was not yet sure.

Warning: Gojyo's mouth and possibly his mind. Kissing and a little hands-on.

Notes: Set after Hakkai has begun to heal up from his wounds but before Sanzo has come looking for him.

Beta: Purpleicicles

I WANT.

It is his eyes that speak the most to me, all ways the truth will shine through in them. They was not the first thing I saw when he came bleeding into my world. No, that was a cracked whisper that somehow carried his begging wish to caress my ears. A broken body almost drained of blood and little will left to embrace life.

He's better now, but not walking the fine line that had me pacing his bedside on the first week. He's still not completely healed up and I don't want to even think how long the mental scars will take to fade.

But then we seam to have time, he's made no move to go anywhere and truth be told I'm in no hurry to see him leave.

"Gojyo could you please use the ash tray and not your beer cans it makes recycling them more work."

My silent smiling house guest.

Since his fever broke, there has been a smile firmly planted on him, a mask that no one has bothered to look past. Well I do! How could I ignore that much pain built up behind the pleasant mask?

At night when I smoke on the porch I find myself pondering his past, trying to peace the tantalising bits of the puzzle together.

My unexpected addition to the Shay house hold.

Picking up the empty beer can out of habit, a dead butt disappears within the aluminium. A new one soon appears between my lips.

Click.

Puff, sigh.

I lean out on the rail looking out over the small garden again; he had me chopping fire wood in earlier. Tonight I've resolve to find out his name, its odd but I haven't pushed him for anything, not even that.

I don't call him 'buddy' or 'dude' or any of them pet names us blokes use on each other. No nothing seamed to fit him, just my half-dead stay kitten, which I only call him in the privacy of my mind.

The pitcher of him with cute black ears and long tail curled up on my bed makes me smile. I blame that grin he wears and vivid green eyes for the moment of madness to cross my mind and the answering twitch between my legs.

"Dinner is ready." He has such a quiet voice. Not quite girly high, there's a male huskiness, but not the loud rasp some men have. I find myself eagerly hurrying inside to wash up; a habit I had to adopt if I ever expect to eat again. His cooking is wonderful and completely different to mine, I can even burn eggs, where as those doomed eggs are right now a feast in his hands that I am happy to wolf down.

I watch as he clears the table, neatly stacking the dishes by the sink a unspoken hope that one night I might live up to my part of the dinner arrangement and actually do the washing up. There is a slight hitch in his hands curling about the plates as he straightens. I can tell even with his face turned away from me his wound is bother him, but he is all composed smiles when our eyes meet once again and I try to hid my feelings; my silent stray doses not need pity. No, he needs a strong hand to lead him to bed and explore his body.

Fuck.

"Gotta head into town." I mumble, rising from my dirty thoughts. There was absolutely no way I could indulge them. As I sling on my jacket his hand stops me; there is something in his eyes that makes my soul shiver and I drop the battered leather to the floor.

"What's up?" I manage.

I watch him fidget they are such slight movements, only a full demon or a hanyou like me would catch them, but as always I give him time.

"Please do the dishes first, dried-on eggs are hard to wash off, its best done while they are still fresh."

It's a fair point and I know really it is my job, but how can I tell him why I really want to leave? Expose the thoughts in my mind, the desire flickering around his finger tips touching my chest?

Anger burns a lot of things like fear and desire. It can save your life or it can make you do stupid things. Like now. I used anger to hide my feelings.

"Then you wash them; it's not like you wouldn't be doing them once I was out the gate." My words are thoughtless, but the hand I used to slap his away from touching me cuts him more. I can tell. There's a little widening around his eyes.

I reach down for my jacket, even more intent of using the still poor reason to escape for a few hours.

"You're correct and I have no right to order you about in your home."

Something makes me stop at his soft words, leather once again hitting the floor with a resounding thud in the suddenly to quiet room.

"Look, I need a smoke." It was still me running away from a fight. I never could take true verbal fights; they still cut me to close to the marks my mother had etched.

Click

Puff, sigh.

Once again, I lean on the rail as I hear my stray kitten moving over to run water. A cold wind catches me full in the face blowing smoke into my eyes and making them water. Annoyed, I flick the half done smoke out on the path as I turn to head inside. Indoors, I look over at the sink and my house-guest about to pick up the first dish, his back stiff and actions slow like he is deep in thought. Silently, I walk up behind him, slipping my arms below his to take the plate and place it into the water. My breath is soft over the shell of his ear as I talk.

"It was a stupid thing to say." My hands remember Jien teaching me to wash up like this as a kid, so I let them carry on while I have my kitten trapped and enough courage to see my thoughts voiced.

"For that I am sorry." A plate is placed into the drying rack. I feel him tense up at my words, still I plunge on; "I have these feelings about you, I've kind of gotten used to having you about." Dam, for a well-known ladies charmer I suck at seducing a man. A slight tremble carried across to my body from his. I try to turn it into a nonchalant shrug. Another dish and half way through I notice.

"Its unnecessary of you to apologise Gojyo." His voice has an emotional tremble I have never herd before from him. He takes my wet hands and leads me over to the table. Green eyes looking deeply into my own red. A hand ghosts over the twin scars on my cheek and I see a genuine smile form. He leans over and leaves a kiss on my forehead like a mother to her child, softly lingering just enough.

"Thank you for doing the dishes."

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