Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Caught ❯ One-Shot

Caught

Author's Note: July 2003: This little bunny was written some time ago but I just found it lurking on my disk. Dunno why I didn't post before... *sigh*

Disclaimer: Gensomaden Saiyuki belongs to Minekura Kazuya, and not me. I just write this stuff for my own amusement.

He had Sanzo over on his back, one leg bent under his arm as he surged into him over and over again, hips moving in the smooth rhythm that meant they were getting near the end. He was watching the monk closely. Sanzo was gasping. Panting. His eyes were screwed shut and his head turned away, like always. As if the cock pounding into his ass had nothing to do with him. As if his own hand on his cock, stroking himself furiously toward orgasm, meant nothing.

Gojyo always fucked Sanzo with his eyes open. It paid to be ready for those moments when the monk got those strange flashes of contrary conscience and decided he'd had enough. Because there could always be a fist involved then. Or a gun. One never knew for sure; which was part of the rush of fucking him in the first place.

What he didn't know now was how he had heard the small sound over his own low grunts, over Sanzo's soft, ragged groans. But he heard it, and his gaze tracked back across the length of the narrow, shoddy inn room to the door at the far end. And saw the muted flash of light off a single lens as Hakkai ducked his head, turned, and slipped out the door as quietly as he had entered.

Shit. He didn't slow down or hesitate. Instead he pounded harder into the narrow ass below him. Driving deep and fast, suddenly wanting only to finish quick. To get it over with. Sanzo's lean body arched high beneath him in response, the monk's breathing coming sharp through tightly bared teeth as the monk gave a last hard jerk of his own cock, freezing as he sprayed come all over his own stomach, body bucking. Gojyo drove hard into the spasaming body, making Sanzo groan louder, body jerking now in time with pulsing of his cock.

After a few more of those deep thrusts, Gojyo came inside the monk, his own teeth gritted, his hands braced wide, holding himself well off the narrow bed - and Sanzo's body. It took him a moment to catch his breath - it always did - but even before he was ready, Sanzo was pushing at him. Pulling his leg down. Shoving him away. Usually, Gojyo rolled off just to the side and bitched at the monk for being such a hardcase. This time he went without protest, pushing himself to a seated position immediately, leaning his elbows on his own thighs and letting his hands dangle as he sucked in deep breaths, only now allowing his eyes to close. Re-opened them abruptly when all he could see behind his own closed lids was that flash of glass, the glimmer of narrow lips parted in an 'o' of surprise... or dismay. It was hard to tell with Hakkai. Not that Hakkai didn't know what he and Sanzo did in the night at times, but having it shoved in your face like that was another thing. And being polite about it was Hakkai's thing. So much easier to be polite when one didn't have images in one's memory to face. Damn it.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sanzo snapped at him. It had been over much quicker than normal. He had pretty good stamina usually.

"Nothin'. Went too fast," he muttered, glad of the habitual screen of hair around his face that disguised the curl of his lip. What, hadn't this fuck been up to Sanzo Hoshi-sama's exalted standards? C'h. He'd gotten off, hadn't he?

"What are you mooning over then?"

He reached for his pants, stood to drag them on. Buttoned them up over his sticky, still half-hard cock.

"I want a smoke."

"Throw me my pack, then."

Gojyo looked at Sanzo through the curtain of his hair, a sharp gleam in his eye.

"Want some air... gonna smoke outside."

Sanzo glared at him narrowly for this unasked for explanation. Then his lip curled before he slid himself further across the bed to reach behind Gojyo for his own pack and lighter on the nightstand. "Do what you like."

Gojyo tossed his head, flipping his hair back and running a hand through it, scratching hard at his head as he did so. It was better than backhanding Sanzo for the sneer in his voice, the scarcely concealed disdain. Bastard. Why did the monk always have to make him feel like a whore afterward? He heard the scratch of Sanzo's lighter. Smelled the sting of freshly lit tobacco.

Grimacing to himself, he bent and grabbed his vest and tank top off the floor. Stuffed his boots under his arm and sauntered down the length of the room to the door without looking back at the bed.

"We're leaving first light," the monk snarled as he grabbed the doorknob. Sanzo's way of telling him not to get ideas about wandering off after more tail, he knew. He just wrenched the door open and stepped into the hall. It took an act of major will not to slam the door closed behind him and he paused for a moment in the silent darkness, head tilted back, eyes closed as he let out an annoyed breath.

"Asshole," he muttered, not certain exactly who he was referring to in that instant - himself or Sanzo. Then he padded down the hall to the back stairwell, taking the steps faster than he should in the dark, wanting with abrupt urgency to be outside in the night air. Away from the scent of Sanzo's cigarettes, and the distinctive aroma of sex mingled with the lingering hint of incense that always seemed to cling to the monk no matter how long he'd been away from a temple. It made his stomach faintly queasy.

Gojyo yanked the back door of the inn open and stumbled out into the stableyard. It was a clear spring night, the stars bright above, the moon low on the horizon still and hidden behind the trees of the orchard that circled the inn. The air was cool, but not crisp. It felt good on his faintly sweaty skin. He just stood still for a few minutes, breathing deep, mind calming. Until the chill of the ground under his bare feet began to bother him. He wasn't a barefoot kind of guy, really. Not anymore. Looking around, he spotted a wooden bench in the little patch of garden beside the well and walked gingerly over to it, dropping down onto the bench with a grunt to pull his boots back on.

"Sumimasen," a voice said quietly from the darkness beside the well when he was done, making him jerk up in surprise. "I did not intend to interrupt." A slender shape stood in the deep shadows, leaning against the stones of the well, arms folded, head bowed. Hakkai.

"You didn't," he answered before thinking. Then cursed under his breath for the way the words sounded once they left his mouth. Too flip. Careless.

"Ah. Good."

Silence settled between them, filled with an edgy tension that he wasn't used to feeling in Hakkai's presence. He'd known Hakkai knew. But they'd never talked about it. Never acknowledged it. And now Hakkai had seen them. And he was surprised by how much that disturbed him. It wasn't embarrassment exactly, - well, no more than the normal embarrassment of being observed during such an intimate act - but instead felt more like shame. And not the shame of being caught fucking a man when he was reputed to be a ladies' man alone, either. He didn't care about that. Not really. Not with Hakkai. Hakkai was his friend. A friend who had seemed to understand that sometimes one couldn't risk fucking a woman when one felt swollen and dangerous with the aftermath of violence as one often was on this journey. That at those times only a man would do - a man with the potential to beat the shit out of you in return. A man that you didn't feel badly about roughing up a bit, because you knew he could take it - maybe even wanted it. No, the shame was connected to who he'd been fucking - Sanzo. And the brief flash of pain he thought he'd spotted on Hakkai's face at the door for that fact.

"It doesn't mean anything, you know," he said, staring at that still shape. His eyes had adjusted to the shadows at last and in the starlight he could see Hakkai's mouth tighten slightly. "It's just a fuck," he felt compelled to add, turning his head slightly to gaze sightlessly out into the night. Still keeping Hakkai at the edge of his vision.

"You do not owe me any explanations, Gojyo," Hakkai said at last, his head lifting as he stared out into the orchard. Away from him. "I understand. This journey is difficult for us all."

The words were calm and rational. So understanding. As always. But his mind tormented him with memories of that odd flash of expression; startled, dismayed. And an answering flare of something desperate ran through him, driving him to his feet. He was torn between the desire to turn away and let it end without further comment and the equally strong urge to walk over and shake Hakkai until he did more than 'understand'.

The urge to shake him won out. He stalked over to the well. Clamped his hand on Hakkai's shoulder and spun him around, glaring down at him.

"It's just that the damn monk..." he began, then froze, mouth stuck open as the dark head lifted at his touch, the shadowed eyes flashed up to meet his. Pain. Pain and fury, he saw. Things that Hakkai usually hid so well behind that ever-smiling façade. But the last few weeks had been hard. They were all tired, on edge after long days on the road; nights too. Most of them spent fending off constant attacks from Gokumen's assassins. This was the first town large enough to make them feel justified in stopping at an inn; the town militia was fairly strong.

"Please go away, Gojyo," Hakkai said quietly, tilting his head down so his shaggy bangs covered his eyes thoroughly. "I am sorry, but I would prefer to be alone for the time being."

And he knew sometimes he was dense - about some things he was almost as slow as Goku. But not about things as important as this. His hand fell slowly away from Hakkai's shoulder.

"Hey... you're really pissed at me."

"Gojyo, please, I am not angry with you." Hakkai's lifted gaze was level and carefully blank now, yet his body was tense.

"Liar," he said and had the dubious satisfaction of seeing the other man's eyes go briefly wide with surprise and outrage.

"I do not make it a practice to lie to you, Gojyo," Hakkai said even as the intensity of his emotions faded, stifled indignation joining the carefully muted anger. Always so controlled was Hakkai. Always. Even with him. Even now... except for that flash.

"The thing with Sanzo - it just started."

"Ah, Gojyo," Hakkai said with a sigh, turning his face away and folding his arms over his chest in a graceful motion. Slender, yet so shockingly strong. Lithe. That was the best way he could describe him in his own mind. Like a new birch sprouting up near a stream. Elegant and upright. Seemingly unbreakable. The only man he had ever carried to his own bed.

"No, I mean we've been doin' it a while... but it doesn't mean anything."

The only man he had ever wanted to carry to his own bed. Always done in Sanzo's bed on Sanzo's terms, the act he did with Sanzo smacked of violence and raw nerves and guilty pain. Things he never thought of when he thought of Hakkai. And what the hell kind of shit was pouring out of his mouth? Stupid stuff. Because he never found just the right words to say what he really wanted to say around Hakkai either. He relied on the knowing looks, the indulgent smiles, the solid reassurance of Hakkai's back against his in a fight. Things stayed unsaid because he didn't have the words to say them and Hakkai... wouldn't. Gojyo ran his hand through his hair in frustration, tugging it back from his face, needing to explain just this once and struggling to put it into words.

"Hey, it was that or kill him, the self-righteous prick... but I don't think the monkey would ever forgive me if I did," he said with a self-conscious little half-laugh. Never knowing what to say, he said the same things he always did.

Hakkai sighed again, shook his head slightly as he straightened away from the well. Still not looking at him. "It is a lovely night. I believe I will take a walk..." Hakkai said quietly as he began to turn away.

Desperation ran through him, again, and Gojyo reached after him. His hand closed around Hakkai's leather-clad wrist. Spun him around again. This time the anger wasn't veiled. It crackled from the other man in both posture and expression. Like the edge of a storm, filled with deadly potential. His blood surged in response.

"It is not a good idea to push me right now, Gojyo," Hakkai said in a low tone, his arm held raised between them, caught in Gojyo's fist like some kind of prize. Or a barrier. Gojyo stared into his narrowed eyes helplessly, enthralled. No distance now between man and emotion, the control abandoned for once.

"Maybe that's what I shoulda been doin' all along..." he muttered, then yanked on Hakkai's arm, drawing him close. Close enough to smell the rainwater and sunlight scent of his hair, the faintly musky tone that was also Hakuryuu's, the hint of jasmine from the tea he favored. Hakkai was tall. Taller than Sanzo. Almost as tall as he was. That put that tightly held mouth just beneath his own. So all he had to do was turn his head slightly, staring into eyes that he knew were verdant green now gone black in the scant starlight, and lean forward.

Lips brushed. Soft lips. Not something he'd expected to think when kissing a man, but then, lips were lips and Hakkai's were certainly soft and warm. Moist. Parting slightly as he leaned into them. This wasn't something he'd done with Sanzo... wasn't something he'd wanted to do with Sanzo. Groaning softly, he caressed the seam of Hakkai's lips with his tongue and they slid apart so that his tongue could sweep inside. Found hints of jasmine and sake and musk. The taste was strangely intoxicating. Uniquely Hakkai. He wanted more. Delved deeper to find it.

There was a soft moan, from who he wasn't sure, and he'd shut his eyes, all unknowing, and so the hand that tangled in his hair was a surprise. Another surprise was the way Hakkai's tongue wound around his own, the way his mouth moved under his, hot and wet and sure, dragging him deeper into the embrace. Why had he thought, somewhere hazy in his mind, that Hakkai would kiss like a novice? He didn't. He kissed with expert skill.

Someone shifted, an instinctive move closer, maybe it was him this time, until the lean length of Hakkai was pressed against him, supple and strong. He dropped his hold on Hakkai's wrist to snake his arm around the slender body, to spread his hand wide across the other man's back and pull him even closer. He hadn't put his shirt or his vest back on and the feel of Hakkai's sash was cool on his skin for an instant, then it quickly warmed. His pulse was pounding fast and hard against his skin, echoed by Hakkai's pulse. Their mouths were melded, fused. As if intended for this purpose alone. Ages passed while they explored the sensations, the tastes, the heat, devouring each other's mouths with languid urgency.

Until finally the hand in his hair tightened, shifting his head back slightly. Their mouths parted slowly, Hakkai's lips nipping gently at his as they drew away. He felt drowsy and tender and eager all at the same time, his eyes still closed as Hakkai's mouth shifted further, nibbling along his jaw until he reached his neck. Then Hakkai buried his face there, his left cheek pressed to Gojyo's own, breath coming fast and warm beneath his ear. Hakkai's arm wound around his waist at last, his hand slipping warm across Gojyo's lower back, his grip tight and hard. Not letting go.

And it felt right. It was right. At last. Who needed words when they had this waiting beneath?

"Sumimasen," Hakkai whispered, trembling slightly. "Forgive me."

"No," he whispered back. That startled an uncertain laugh from Hakkai, breath puffing across his bare shoulder as Hakkai turned slightly, gathering himself to draw away. Gojyo tightened his arm around him, forestalling the action, lifting his other hand to cup the back of Hakkai's head. Holding him close.

"Nothing to forgive," Gojyo continued softly. "And it's about fuckin' time."

- - fin - -