Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction / Saiyuki Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ En Masse ❯ Chapter 5

***Beware the OOC Sanzo. We'll just blame it on the Japanese air or something.***

 

 

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From the angle he was lying at, upper body raised from the bed by his forearms pressing into the mattress, all Aya could see of his partner was the very top of a blonde head as it lifted from and dropped to his crotch.

 

 

Aya let out a quiet breath that he hadn't realised he was holding in, revelling in the feel of eager lips and tongue sliding over his cock in an erratic pattern; increasing the suction here, pulling back to tease over the head there, never letting his mind stop spinning. Fingers gripped bony hips hard enough to leave quickly-developing bruises, and the counterpoint of pain to the pleasure threw him further towards orgasm.

 

 

He took to mentally reciting a highly serious and rather boring poem he knew in a desperate attempt to prolong his pleasure, but was barely ten seconds through his inner monologue when he lost the ability to remember, well, pretty much anything.

”Fuck! Oh, god…”

 

 

The curse was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, the slight scrape of teeth against his sensitive flesh making his fingers curl into the bed sheet and his hips try to thrust away from the restraining hands.

 

 

Through a slight haze, Aya felt the gentle vibrations of a slight chuckle bringing him right to the very edge of completion. He would have come right that instant if not for the warm mouth drawing away, the sudden rush of cold air on his dick taking away a little bit of his erection's strain.

 

 

The blonde head tipped back, revealing a leering mouth set into a beautiful face. A lust-tinged voice breathed Aya's true name, and the illusion shattered.

 

 

The night was still unnaturally warm, and so Aya had been sleeping with the bedcovers kicked away, clothed only in a silky pair of boxers. The front of said underwear was tenting urgently, much to Aya's annoyance. It wasn't that he'd never woken up like this before; it was actually almost embarrassing how often it happened, always preceded by a dream similar to the one he'd just had. Well, he was male, after all, and didn't generally feel inclined to get taken by a perfect stranger or enjoy his own pleasure, so his body often had to force him into action. It also wasn't the fact that there was no woman in his fantasy; once Aya had gotten over the hormonal teenage years of being turned on by anything that looked in his direction, he'd soon realised that he responded far better to males than to the fairer sex.

 

 

Aya's annoyance was actually directed at the situation created by his brain. He was used to having erotic dreams about one particular blonde male that he would never go near in real life; but the eyes that had looked up at him in tonight's dream weren't a bright shade of green.

 

 

They were an eerily familiar purple, and an astounding feature in the face of a man he'd met on only two occasions.

 

 

Sighing in irritation, Aya pushed his boxers down and took himself in hand, hoping to get his body under control so that he could return to sleep as soon as possible.

 

 

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Yohji awoke with a start, his body announcing in no uncertain terms that he needed to pee. Still lying back, he weighed his options between moving away from his soft bed and the attractive man still asleep in it, or ignoring his body and hoping for the best.

 

 

He was running a full debate inside his thoughts when a noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan registered to his brain. At first he thought that it had come from Gojyo, who was lying asleep on his side facing away from Yohji; but when the noise sounded again, it was definitely coming from further away.

 

Hangover-induced nausea was beginning to kick in, but the blonde didn't really pay it any heed as he strained his ears to hear whether he was imagining things again or not.

 

 

`The only one with a room close to mine is…Aya? `Sif that's him…I've heard that kind of groan more than once in my time…and there's no way that Aya, Mr I'm-Above-Human-Emotions, is having a dream like that…'

 

 

No; there it was again! Yohji was left with no doubt that it was Aya making the sounds, the deep tone of the voice unmistakably his. Yohji knew that the redhead had to be asleep and unaware of his little performance, because there was absolutely no way that Aya would voluntarily let anyone else hear him going through something so…natural.

 

 

Yohji started to laugh softly, mind reeling at the fact that he'd heard two bizarre sounds from Aya over the course of twelve hours; amusement and pleasure were two things that weren't generally connected with the grumpiest member of Weiss.

 

 

“Nnngg…Yohji, shut up, `m tryin' to sleep…nothing's funny at four in the morning…”

 

 

“Are you sure about that? Listen…”

 

 

Gojyo opened his mouth to make some sort of comment, but Yohji clapped his hand over the redhead's mouth and pressed his finger to his own lips in a shushing motion.

 

 

There was silence, and Yohji was beginning to wonder whether the show was over. Then:

 

 

“Mmm…-nzo…”

 

 

`What the FUCK!' Yohji had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from cussing aloud. He and Gojyo looked at each other, the darkness of the room not showing the men how wide the other's eyes were.

 

 

“That can't be what I think it was,” Gojyo whispered around the press of Yohji's hand.

 

 

“…Fuck! Oh, God,” came the voice through the wall. Yohji cracked up laughing, shaking violently as he struggled to stay silent. He leaned over to press his face into the soft flesh of the kappa's neck, using it to keep the giggles inside. Eventually, after the sporadic groans and sighs from next door subsided, he regained control of his body and took a few deep breaths.

 

 

“Y'know, I think that there must be something about blondes that drives redheads crazy. Seems to work on you and Aya, at least.” Yohji made certain that he kept his voice low enough that it wouldn't float across to Aya's room. He liked having a dick, and wanted to keep it properly attached.

 

 

“Mmm, I gotta agree with you there, gorgeous. But Sanzo's so fucking dense that he won't notice. Believe me.” Gojyo couldn't help it; he was already imagining various scenarios, all of which ended in a kinky foursome. `Oooh sounds promising…as long as Baldy and Fujimiya keep their stupid comments to themselves…'

 

 

Yohji saw his bedmate's face change from amused and vaguely sleepy to the look he got when he was fantasising about something particularly…exciting. Already being pretty attuned to the way the redhead's mind worked, Yohji could imagine the contents of the fantasy. He had to admit, it was a pretty hot idea; no matter how improbable it was. But then again, what was the point of fantasies if they were easily achieved?

 

 

“Gojyo, are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

 

 

The half-breed smirked, only partly coming out of his imaginary porno. “I think I am, B2…”

 

 

“Alright then, we…Wait, what the Hell was that? Who the fuck is B2?” Yohji was genuinely confused; he put Gojyo's odd reply down to the combination of exhaustion and being lost in his fantasy. They'd had a pretty good `workout' earlier that night, after all. Gojyo just laughed softly, both men still well aware that it wasn't hard for noise to move between the rooms.

 

 

“It's from…Oh, whatever, don't worry about it. S'not important. Anyway, if you're considering getting Aya and Sanzo together so that we can have hot group sex, I'm in.”

 

 

“Oooh, that's what I like to hear! But that's enough about those two frigid bastards; I'm wide awake now, and my body heard someone mention sex. So maybe we should…Ah, crap,” Yohji's body suddenly also reminded him of the reason why he woke up, “I've gotta go for a minute, fall asleep before I'm done and you'll be going straight back to that hotel.”

 

 

Gojyo didn't really see a whole lot of a problem with going to the hotel, seeing as how Hakkai would be there, alone…but Yohji didn't need to hear about that. He knew that the…thing that he and Yohji shared was only going to be temporary, and he wanted to enjoy it as much as he possibly could. So, instead of informing his blonde friend that he could still get a good toss somewhere else, the kappa kicked the light sheet from his naked body and trailed a hand down towards his crotch seductively.

 

 

Yohji bailed from the room quick smart, both to get back as soon as possible and to avoid simply jumping back onto the bed…and the man in it.

 

 

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`He's staring at me…why does he keep doing that?' Aya always knew when someone was watching him, even if his back was to the person. Yohji and Gojyo had crawled out of bed sometime around noon, and the demon had left the Koneko with a parting comment about `the mission' that Aya didn't think was at all related to the mutant case. Since then, he'd felt eyes on him whenever he was concentrating on something, and had quickly noticed that it was Yohji.

 

 

It was unnerving, to say the least.

 

 

When Omi had called them into the study to see the results of the DNA test that Kritiker had run, Aya had made sure to place himself so that Ken kept the older blonde away. He didn't trust the man to keep his hands to himself, even if Yohji already had a small scar on his palm from making the mistake of invading Aya's personal space one day while the testy redhead was holding a pair of scissors. Aya's mouth twitched at the memory of the playboy's shocked shout of pain and subsequent freak-out.

 

 

“Fuck! You insane, sadistic, completely fucking nuts son of a BITCH! Scissors are not a fucking weapon!”

 

 

“…The work of some sort of genius?” The voice from Aya's memory became less outraged and more curious. He realised that he probably should have been concentrating on what Omi had found in the DNA profile, rather than remembering how amazing Yohji's face looked when it was twisted with anger…He shook himself out of reverie, watching Omi pace back and forth and trying to piece together the information he had missed while distracted. He was only thinking about Yohji because the man was irritating him, nothing else…

 

 

“…There must be hundreds of facilities researching DNA!” Aya was vaguely annoyed at the youngest Weiss member's whining. They all had jobs to do, and Omi's main concern was data collection. He should know that by now, and stop with the complaining. Aya wanted the briefing over quickly, as he planned to visit Aya-chan later in the day and keep himself busy…he wanted to be nowhere near anyone blonde, whether they were Japanese, Chinese or goddamned Icelandic!

 

 

He only half listened to Yohji and Ken's comments to Omi, waiting for them to leave the room and get distracted so that there was less chance that they'd see him escape from the house. Also, though he was trying to avoid thinking about it, Aya knew that Yohji didn't have eyes in the back of his head, and therefore couldn't keep gawking at him if Aya kept behind him. `Oh, I have no problem being behind him…as long as I can get a lot closer to that ass…' Aya nearly choked on his own spit when a little voice piped up at the back of his mind.

 

 

Trying to recover, he went for his usual strategy of getting angry at the nearest person whenever his mind threw him a curveball. Omi and his whining were the perfect target.

 

 

“Save your bitching until after we find our target!”

 

 

“Yes, sir.” That kind of response would have been clearly sardonic coming from anyone else, but Aya didn't know whether the kid was even capable of something as negative as sarcasm. He left the room without further comment, still trying to analyse the decidedly dirty turn that his mind seemed to have taken over the last day or so. `It's got to be something to do with having two perverted idiots around, I just know it.'

 

 

Aya decided to visit his sister sooner than he'd planned, because he knew that there was no way his mind would continue being inappropriate in her presence. At least, that's what he hoped…

 

 

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Hakkai was bored. It would've been difficult for a casual observer to notice, but the quiet man was truly restless. He wasn't reading the book in front of him, the first sentence on the page having been looked at a hundred times over without going any further.

 

 

They hadn't had a mission in too long, and Hakkai didn't even have Gojyo around to entertain him. Since meeting Yohji, Gojyo had slept at the hotel once, and the brunette had hardly even seen him. Yesterday's shower incident barely counted as `quality time', and Hakkai found himself not just bored, but also missing his best friend.

 

 

After Gojyo had picked up a dying stranger from the street over three years ago, they'd never spent too much time apart. They'd lived together for almost all of that time, first platonically and then as…friends with `benefits'. Even when Hakkai had been dragged off by Sanzo to face Kritiker training, only a month after the kappa had stuffed his insides back in, Gojyo had weaselled his way into Kritiker's employ as well.

 

 

It was understandable that Hakkai, in those circumstances, would be a little lonely now that there wasn't anyone to talk to, or just listen to. He wasn't prepared to go near Sanzo, who had stormed back into the hotel the night before for some reason or another, and had been heard muttering angrily well into today when the healer went near the blonde's door. He supposed that he could go outside to where Goku was kicking a football that he'd bought the previous day, but it really wasn't Goku that he wanted to see.

 

 

He wanted to be around Gojyo, who was off gallivanting around the city with his new friend.

 

 

It wasn't very often that Hakkai felt like getting so drunk that he couldn't stand up; right now, at three in the afternoon, he was cursing his demonic toxin flushing that allowed alcohol to completely dissipate in his bloodstream minutes after it went in. He hadn't been completely smashed since he was human, and occasionally he missed the feeling of temporary amnesia that booze could bring.

 

 

Hakkai knew what he needed; to kill, or at least severely injure something. But that urge would never show on his face, because the demon had more self-control than almost anyone he'd ever met.

 

 

He just hoped that this demon mutation mission went somewhere, and fast.

 

 

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Across the hall, Sanzo really was angry. He wasn't entirely sure why; he just knew that it had something to do with perverted numbskulls and emotionally fucked Japanese redheads.

 

 

One thing was for certain, though: someone was going to be either killed or screwed into next week. Maybe both, although definitely not in that order.

 

 

Walking out of his kitchen area, Sanzo decided that he had to get out of the hotel and go…anywhere. Checking through the window, he could just make out the small figure of Goku chasing his football around the patch of grass behind the building, and decided to leave him to it. The priest wanted to be alone for a while, rather than being pestered for food and everything that caught the easily-distracted kid's eye.

 

 

He dropped his robes to the floor, stepping out of them to leave the dark jeans, soft shirt and metal-ringed sleeves intact. Sometimes, dressing as a priest caught way too much attention…though it seemed like his current outfit was also pretty good at making people stare.

 

 

Sanzo grabbed his room key and slammed his door shut, knowing that Hakkai would hear the noise and realise that the priest was going out. There was no way that Sanzo was going into the brunette's room to actually speak with him; for the most part, human contact was overrated. He had better things to do.

 

 

In the elevator to the ground floor, Sanzo found himself gloriously alone for the entire ride. Some people seemed to think that being stuck in an enclosed space together was enough of a reason to try and strike up a conversation; Sanzo thought otherwise. No one bothered him as he stalked through the foyer of the hotel, most probably put off by the angry look on his face. When he reached the street he turned left, subconsciously moving in the opposite direction of the Koneko.

 

 

Sanzo was only a few hundred metres from the hotel when he passed Gojyo, who was loaded up with a colourful array of shopping bags from what looked to be clothes stores. The redhead's cheerful drawl sounded out in greeting, “Hey, priesty! Lookin' good, in a grumpy bastard kinda way!”

 

 

The monk sneered, not bothering to grace Gojyo with a response. Last night his priorities had changed; he now had no immediate desire to fuck the redhead…or at least, not that redhead. But who knew how long it was going to take to loosen the other man up enough to get to that point?

 

 

He sighed loudly, and Sanzo didn't realise that his noisy exhalation had caught the attention of a group of girls standing nearby, who were now all staring and whispering to each other. A few looked more than slightly crushed when the handsome blonde didn't even look their way, unaware that their chances with the man were somewhere in the negative values.

 

 

Sanzo concentrated on weaving through the heavy crowds, not paying any attention to his surroundings or the appreciative looks he was getting from both women and men. Having years of meditation under his belt made it easy to blank out his mind, and Sanzo concentrated solely on the clear path through the pedestrian traffic. In contrast to his Buddhist mindset, Sanzo's graceful ability to move through people without coming into contact with anyone was honed from fighting battle after battle.

 

 

A good half hour must've passed without Sanzo even realising, his mind as blank as it was. He was so far gone that when something finally caught his eye, it took several seconds before the sight registered and stood out in his mind.

 

 

The blonde whirled around, vaguely missing the usual feel of long white robes swirling around his legs. It was only then that Sanzo noticed the lack of a crowd, standing as he was at the back of a large building. The utter absence of life was almost unnerving in a city that was normally so crowded, but Sanzo found himself relaxing slightly as he retraced his steps to the thing that had caught his attention.

 

 

Looking around, Sanzo located the flash of white that had stood out to his otherwise empty mind. It was part of a well-maintained white Porsche, partially hidden among the few other cars in the building's parking lot. An oddly familiar white Porsche.

 

 

Walking over to the car, Sanzo scoped the number plate and confirmed that yes, he really had seen that car before; it had been there as he went through the garage into the Weiss building the previous day.

 

 

Sanzo's analytical mind went into overdrive, attempting to deduce which member of Weiss the car belonged to. He knew that it wasn't the slutty one; even if Gojyo hadn't mentioned that the tall blonde drove an open-top kit car, it would've been just a little obvious that the monstrosity that had also been parked in the garage belonged to the flashy man.

 

 

It came with a slight leap of logic, but Sanzo assumed that the car didn't belong to Hidaka, either. There had also been a motorcycle in the garage, and when he'd busted into the kitchen, the soccer player sitting there had been wearing a black Kawasaki Racing shirt. It was a bit of a stretch, but the priest trusted his observation skills and his instincts; both of which were telling him that the white car wasn't Hidaka's.

 

 

That left…the overly-enthusiastic kid and Aya. The kid barely looked old enough to be in high school, let alone own a car, so Sanzo disregarded him almost immediately. He hoped that his reasoning was right, because he had a sudden urge to see the annoyingly good-looking redhead. And Hell, if his car was here, then the owner had to be somewhere nearby.

 

 

Analysis done, Sanzo looked around to find out what kind of building he was standing behind. He had to walk right around the side of the nondescript brick structure to find a sign of any kind, but it was blindingly obvious from the building's front what was inside the walls. Above the main doors large letters proclaimed, `Magic Bus Hospital', and Sanzo's limited curiosity was piqued. Why was the redhead parked at a hospital? Why was his car around the back when the lot by the entrance could only have been two-thirds full? And, most importantly, how much longer was he going to be inside?

 

 

Pulling a mobile phone from the pocket of his jeans, Sanzo quickly checked the time. He had nothing better to do; it seemed like Aya was going to have a little visitor when he got back to his car.

 

 

Walking back to the white vehicle, Sanzo looked it up and down, admiring the lack of even a scrape on the immaculate paintwork. `Oh, fuck it,' the blonde thought as he moved to the front of the car, hoisting himself up to rest back on the bonnet. He figured that Aya would probably murder him, judging by the condition of the car; but if he could draw a reaction from the redhead, one that wasn't the same as the `ignore it and it'll go away' effect he'd shown last night, then Sanzo was that much closer to getting into the redhead's pants.

 

 

Or, he could end up dead. But, as he thought to himself, `shit happens!'

 

 

If any of Sanzo's teammates could have read his mind at that moment, they probably would have thought they had their lines crossed; but Sanzo had found that coming up against a grumpier, more repressed man than himself had brought out his playful side. A side that was also hornier than usual.

 

 

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Aya pressed a quick kiss to his motionless sister's forehead, pale hand covering her clenched fist that only he knew held a long, gold earring. Whenever he was with his sister, his will strengthened as he remembered just why he was a part of Weiss, and how he'd managed to recover from any number of life-threatening injuries to kill another day. He would get revenge for his sister, and to a lesser extent, his parents. Takatori Reiji would die, and even if Aya didn't wake up, at least she could sleep on in peace. But, as long as that disgusting man lived, Ran would never rest. Ran…the only time Aya ever thought of himself as Ran was when he visited his sister, when it seemed wrong to still take her name. But he was Ran only to himself; no one else would ever think of him that way, except for the girl who lay in the bed before him.

 

 

Even if his dreams tried to tell him differently.

 

 

He stood up and left the sterile hospital room, not even pausing to take a parting glance at his barely-alive sister. Passing through the halls, he ignored the farewells of Kritiker-placed nurses who either didn't know his name or referred to him solely as Abyssinian. The non-Kritiker staff at the police hospital had, at one point, often tried to slip him a phone number or two; but when they were met with uncomprehending or angry looks, the attempts soon stopped.

 

 

Each washed-out corridor seemed identical to the last, and it was only from years of visiting that Aya didn't get lost in the maze of sickness and death. He blinked as he finally stepped into the light, his calm, detached mood quickly disappearing as the real world set back in. Tension started to rebuild in his shoulders and as he walked back to where he'd parked his car, well away from the view of the main street, Aya's usual irritable mood had almost completely come back.

 

 

He came to a dead stop when his vehicle appeared in sight, having to resist the urge to rub his eyes and get rid of the illusion in front of him. `There is NOT an idiotic bastard lounging away on the front of my car…Oh, I am going to murder him if there's even a single scratch in my paint…maybe I'll just kill him anyway…'

 

 

Aya opened his mouth to start yelling at his unwelcome surprise, but stopped himself just in time as he realised how public their surroundings were. Storming to his car, he reached over and grabbed the neckline of Sanzo's shirt, dragging him from his position on the bonnet. He hissed through his teeth at the blonde, having to hold them shut in order to prevent himself from screaming in anger.

 

 

“What. The fuck. Do you think. That you're doing, touching my fucking car? Why are you even here, you stupid prick?” Aya used his hold on the priest's shirt to throw the man to the ground, deciding against kicking the absolute shit out of the blonde in front of a building filled with possible witnesses. He was furious that someone had busted him at the hospital, and especially that after years of living in close quarters with his team, it'd been by a man he barely knew.

 

 

Aya wouldn't have anybody knowing what, or rather who, all his mission money went to. This impudent man wasn't going to be the first one to find out.

 

 

Sanzo stood from the ground, calmly brushing small traces of dirt from his clothes. He met Aya's glare head on with an impassive look, clearly unaffected by the other man's anger. Rather, his mind was taking a decidedly different turn. `Aya…is fucking gorgeous when he's furious!'

 

 

The priest admired how purple eyes flashed with pure emotion, the other man's hidden passion breaking out. Sanzo knew that this wasn't just about the car; there was something else, something that was bringing out this unexpected level of fury.

 

 

“I saw your car and thought I'd stop by. I think the true question should be, what are you doing here, at a hospital? You don't look very injured to me.” It was a dance with death, but Sanzo was enjoying seeing real emotion from the man who had been so blank earlier. It was…fascinating. He knew that he was acting scarily close to the way Gojyo often did, but he wasn't fussed; there weren't any members of his team around to witness his transgression, in the end.

 

 

“That's none of your business. So you can just move on, before I decide that you're an inconvenience to me. Believe it when I say, no one would ever find your body.”

 

 

Sanzo's lips twitched up involuntarily. “What makes you think that you would be able to kill me? I don't die very easily and believe me, many have tried.”

 

 

Fuming silently, Aya's arm subconsciously drifted to where his katana would have been buckled, if he'd been carrying it. He was ready to rethink all his previous notions about the blonde; he may just have been the most annoying member of the Ikkou, which was no small feat. `As long as he stops mentioning the subject of what I'm doing here…he'll live.'

 

 

Sanzo watched with interest, theorising why the other man's hand had moved in such an odd way. He assumed that it must have had something to do with Aya's weapon of choice, not that he knew what that was. The priest found that he was having fun, and couldn't resist taking things one step forward. `Well, if I'm already acting like a cockroach kappa…I may as well milk it for everything I can.'

 

 

Feigning boredom, Sanzo stretched his arms high above his head and groaned in release. The action, he knew full well, made the muscles in his arms twist and sculpt, the bright sunlight playing off the pale skin and black sleeves. The hem of his shirt lifted, showing the world a defined `v' that dipped into low-slung jeans. It had been too long since he'd been out without his robes, the constant reminder of his vows that they were.

 

 

Aya's scowl deepened as annoying emotions began to flare up underneath the anger he felt at his hospital visits being discovered. The small glimpse of that lean torso, leading down to those sharp hipbones, was certainly not causing him to remember his dream and the thoughts he'd had as he tried to get his body back under control afterwards. As if to prove to himself that he wasn't enjoying the view, Aya turned to the side and focused his eyes on a pair of birds sitting on the powerline across the street. His face flicked back around, though, when he heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker coming from beside him.

 

 

“And what, pray tell, is so amusing to you?” An ordinary person may have begun to quake with fear if they'd had such a livid tone thrown at them, but Sanzo was no ordinary man. He was the thirty-first of China, and he'd be damned if he let himself be intimidated by a human when he'd faced so many powerful Youkai and survived.

 

 

“It's just how determined that you seem to be to not answer my question. You must have some kind of secret, to react to me like this. I just want to know what it is.” Sanzo's lips pulled into a smile as he spoke, one that he'd been told looked incredibly dangerous and yet strangely alluring. He enjoyed the flashing of the redhead's eyes as the other man got progressively more pissed off, thoroughly revelling in the feel of being on the other side for once.

 

 

Sanzo spotted the fist that drew up to fly towards his face before it could connect; honed reflexes allowed him to grab the long-fingered hand and detour it away from his body. Vaguely annoyed from when Aya had earlier dropped him to the ground, Sanzo used his hold and the redhead's surprise to pull the other man towards him. He was still channelling Gojyo, and enjoying it immensely; not that he was going to be nicer to the half-breed now that he knew just how fun it was to stir people up.

 

 

Placing his mouth right by the younger man's ear, Sanzo didn't release the crushing grip he still held on Aya's fist. He had a limited window of opportunity before the other man took up the fight again, and Sanzo was hoping to keep all of his features intact. He had been telling Gojyo the truth when he mentioned vanity after practically stripping in the hall, and he liked his nose the shape it currently was. Some things just weren't worth getting bones broken for.

 

 

“You'll have to try better than that, Aya. I'll be around later to discuss the mission…but don't forget; this conversation isn't over.”

 

 

Pulling back on the hand he was using to hold Aya, Sanzo made the redhead stumble slightly as he walked away in the direction he'd previously come from. He fancied that he could still feel the heat of the other man's anger, even as he crossed the street and headed for the hotel.

 

 

Sanzo was pleased that he'd been able to rid his system of the playful mood that bobbed up every now and again, and could return to being the antisocial bastard that his team knew and hated. What made it even better was the way he'd heard Aya's breathing become ragged when he had his mouth pressed against a pierced ear; and he didn't think that it was just from anger.

 

 

Aya, still standing by his car, had to take a few seconds to straighten himself up and gather his thoughts. He was undeniably irate at the blonde's refusal to comply with his wishes and not mention the hospital visit, and he was even angrier that the man had come so close and even touched him, let alone sat on top of his car. The last person stupid enough to put their grubby mitts on his prized possession came away from it with a broken thumb, and that was only because Aya knew that Ken wouldn't have been able to complete missions properly with a shattered or totally missing hand.

 

 

It was settled; the blonde man had to die. And for every dream of Aya's that he invaded, he was another day closer to his drawn-out and very painful death. Aya knew that he would rather kill some more than have anyone find out about his sister. There were some conversations that he simply wasn't prepared to have, ever.