Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Never No Answer ❯ There's beauty in the breakdown ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: Saiyuki and the characters used in the following belong to Kazuya Minekura. Darn clever Japanese imagination!

Double Disclaimer: If you're under 18, afraid your mom's going to peek over your shoulder and shit a solid gold brick, or other such reasons, this chapter is packed with promised porn! So, don't say there was no warning, and if you're extremely squirmy, just avoid the italics. Otherwise… Sex, where's my roofie martini, sex, sex! Beer bong, sex!

Did that offend you? No? Then, read on, friend! Oh, and full apologies to anyone who thought I was tasteful. J

Sanzo came shooting out of darkness with a hand on his chest as he sobbed for breath, throwing out a hand to stop Goku- and finding himself sitting in a bed that he didn't remember getting into. He should be dead; hadn't that damn ape gone absolutely fucking psycho and slammed a full set of claws through his body? Sanzo grimaced as he unclenched his hands, realizing that he even had his old robe on with the familiar and snug sleeveless shirt and arm warmers. He blinked down at his usual outfit, actually questioning himself as he wondered if everything from the past few days had been nothing but a vivid dream. Sanzo shook his head, sure that his dream had been vivid and lasted too damn long to be nothing but a wisp of fantasy.

He reached up with what should have been a broken limb courtesy of Goku, covered in scars from struggling against those other youkai though he wasn't very clear on the details… But as Sanzo looked down at his own hand in surprise, feeling no pain at all; in fact, even the usual nausea and headaches that immediately followed awakening were absent. It was damn disturbing that his flesh was smooth as silk as he touched fingers to the sutra on still on his shoulders to find something solid to hang on. It wasn't very rumpled for however long he must have been laying down in this miserable bed. He couldn't have had a dream like that in only a few hours. Just what could have happened, then? Had Goku really killed all those youkai like Sanzo had so badly wanted to do? Had the youkai even attacked him in the first place? The pains leftover from the youkai were gone as well, not even a trace of that beating. There was no way Hakkai could have done this through of a job, never once had he been able to heal Sanzo so well that he even felt new on the inside. What was going on? Was he finally starting to go crazy?

His breath went short, realizing that before Goku had tried to kill him, Sanzo had seen ultimate proof that didn't leave a single doubt that what Sanzo had been dreading and suspecting was the source of the embarrassing pain in his ass. He hadn't spoken a word of it, knowing for sure the he had been beaten- or at least he had been in the dream that seemed too fresh and real to be fake- but worse of all, that fucking demon had painted him while it happened. He was pathetic, so weak that his mind was doing its best to forget that he had been raped, trying to get him to think that it was all a figment of his imagination, but it was impossible. Even if he had been healed of every single bruise, Sanzo knew very well what had happened. It wouldn't hurt so bad just to remember, humiliation burning in his chest at the single thought that Hakkai and Gojyo had seen it. Goku had broken his demon limiter after seeing that painting. There was solid proof in the world now that Genjo Sanzo had been reduced to nothing more than a hole to stick a piece of meat in, like a goddamn woman with her legs stretched open. He hadn't been able to stop it, no matter how much he fought, struggled, screamed, bit, or kneed. He'd been turned into worse than dirt, not even human, in the most personal of ways...and now those three idiots knew that he'd been helpless against a few minor youkai.

How was he supposed to live with this new shame on top of all the others? Or had it really been a dream? He would have all sorts of wounds, wouldn't he? He would be dead by Goku's hand, wouldn't he? He wouldn't feel like melting away right now then, right? He wasn't strong, not like Komyou wanted him to be. He didn't get emotional like this usually, not ever except when Komyou was involved, but he was hopelessly loosing control of his own life. What the hell had, was, and been happening to him? Sanzo fell back on the bed, sick. Tired. Dead. What was he doing now? Sanzo was almost… almost on the verge of crying in frustration, so deathly sick and tired of having no answers.

Sanzo wanted his gun and a swift bullet to the head. So simple, so easy to stop the hurt and humiliation. He was nothing now, certainly not a priest after this; even if he had deviated from the 'True Path' before. This was beyond anything in the scriptures, so completely wrong that it had gone without saying. He had to kill himself now, before he shamed the religion Komyou had believed in so much any further. The youkai responsible were dead, the only three that could call him something other than High Priest Genjo Sanzo knew that he'd been tied down to bed and violated. Sanzo had to commit suicide before all honor and pride was lost, had to. How could he live with this absolute humiliation?! It was worse than when he was younger and had been called Koryuu, a demon-child after his spiritual powers had awakened, cursed and ill-omened since the day he was born. Only Komyou had defended him, or believed in him. Even his own parents had known that he would lead to nothing but embarrassment. Shouldn't he just finally carry out their will, no matter how belated it was?

He looked out the window at near pitch-blackness. The only way he could tell it was a storm by the harsh sound of the rain pouring down against the window and on the roof. His very skin shuddered, the body energetic enough to feel the old sort of terror Sanzo hadn't felt over rainstorms in a long time, not since he was young. Like the months after Komyou had died. Lightning flashed outside the window, calling his whole attention as the sky was illuminated by an unearthly blue-white. Gray clouds were swirling, blown by a fierce wind that was sweeping over every roof and loose item in sight. Sanzo had to bite his lip to keep from jumping off the bed in a panic, older now. His fingernails dug half-moons into his palms, causing just enough light pain to focus.

He fucking hated storms. It looked like a tornado was brewing outside by the way his skin was starting to tremble and shiver over his muscles. Sanzo usually could tell by the ache in his bones from old injuries if a storm was going to be bad, but even that sensation was gone now. How many times did Hakkai have to heal him, if that was the case? Sanzo doubted that the man would ever be able to do this well of a job in a hundred years, so just who had laid hands on him? Sanzo was starting to get an inkling of a suspicion to which it might be, and it left a foul taste in his mouth. He had woken up like this before, sure that he should have been dead but somehow still living. The powers that be were forcing him to survive even longer than a cockroach, and Sanzo didn't like it at all.

He sat up to turn away from the window, not wanting to see the rain anymore but unable to escape from the pounding on the roof or the glass rattling in the window as wind blew hard. He clenched his eyes closed for a moment to ignore the horrible sound of rain, then swung his legs off the mattress with an ease he hadn't felt in months and started walking toward the bathroom door single-mindedly, without even taking a second glance round at the room. He didn't want to see if it matched up with the one in his dream, because then it would be real; nor did he want it to look to see if it was a different room and admit that a mere fantasy had disturbed him that much. Sanzo just made a straight line for the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Sanzo flicked the light on and was already mindlessly walking toward the toilet before he caught a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned very, very slowly to face-off with his own image in the mirror. Perfect skin, the familiar and despised beauty unmarred with any bruises or cuts like it had been before. Even his eyes looked different, no longer shrunken-in or puffy from lack of sleep or migraines. He leaned in close and tilted his head up, looking for the old scar underneath his chin from a youkai getting in a lucky punch powerful enough to split his skin. It was gone without a trace.

He tore at the robe with a sudden panic, working at the stubborn knot of his sash so fiercely that the Maten Scripture fell to the tile floor. Sanzo finally managed to get the knot undone and he shook his shoulders out from the cumbersome clothing. Though the usual skin-tight black shirt was back, Sanzo was still wearing a pair of torn and bloody white pajamas. He blinked at that, knowing he could get a new pair of jeans at anytime, but then why the hell was his usual attire in perfect shape? Why would he still be wearing the destroyed pajamas from his dream? ...Unless, it wasn't a dream. It couldn't be anymore. Sanzo didn't have any other way to explain the bizarre return of his clothes.

Sanzo rolled down the arm warmers and snapped them off his hands. He struggled for a moment with the turtleneck as it stuck around his head before popping off. Finally down to nothing but his too-large pants, Sanzo could only gape at the reflection in front of him.

He looked like he had been born yesterday. Sanzo stared down in horror at unspoiled, pale milky skin that didn't have a single mark on it. Two pale pink nipples and the unflawed ridges of his ribcage waving down his side had no claw marks, no bruises, not even the old scars from battles before were left. Sanzo held up his dominant hand, starting to feel numb when even the callous and small white scars from handling the Smith and Wesson on his thumb were gone. How could this have possibly happened, like a miracle that made Sanzo sick to his stomach?

That goddamn Kanzeon Bosatsu. That bitch! Always watching him like he was child that couldn't even be trusted to walk a straight line west. Goku had flipped out again and tried to kill him, and just like last time she had intervened at the last moment. Sanzo couldn't understand how a Goddess could ignore how badly he wanted to die, now more than ever. He couldn't walk around with this much shame, sure now that it had not been a dream, and deadly calm with the fury that Kanzeon Bosatsu had taken away all signs of his suffering.

He hesitantly felt the center of his own chest with trembling fingers, touching skin that wasn't even his own. It was too smooth and perfect; his fingertips sliding down as though he was made of ice. Sanzo took one shuddering breath, then another in an attempt to calm himself down. It didn't really work. Not now, when he should have been covered in bruises. Sanzo clenched his eyes closed, bitterly reminded that the only real injuries he had sustained were caused below the neck. His pretty face had saved him once again.

Sanzo punched himself in the jaw with his right fist, as hard as possible. His cheek went numb and tingled something fierce, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to stop the pain that was starting to encircle his heart and pierce into the organ. He couldn't live like this, couldn't function if he looked like some adolescent virgin ripe for the taking. Never again. Sanzo dug his fingernails underneath his eye, into the soft flesh above his bottom lashes; trying to scar his goddamn pretty face.

His fingernails weren't enough to do the job, smooth and round edges doing nothing more than leaving bright red lines down his face. It wasn't enough to tear his skin, but it was enough to make Sanzo flinch in pain. Not excruciating, not good enough, not yet. Sanzo slammed both hands down on the counter, hunching over the sink as he suddenly found it incredibly hard to breathe. He wouldn't lose control, wouldn't feel anything over something this pathetic.

Not because some youkai had stuck a meaningless piece of flesh between his legs.

Because that one had painted him while it happened.

Sanzo shuddered and breath escaped his mouth in a gasping choke as he grabbed his shoulders, trying very hard not to fall completely apart as images hit the back of his eyes no matter if they were closed or open. That painting… that goddamn painting… It made his chest hurt, a simple, meaningless, and worthless emotion manifesting into physical pain. He didn't want to remember what had happened now, after he had shot the youkai responsible. He wanted to forget the face he could recall perfectly no matter how many times the demons had hit him in the head. Clear blue eyes like a bird of prey's in their ferocity and concentration; always staring at him, stripping Sanzo down past his flesh to his very soul.

He heard the sound a paint brush echoing in his ears, or was it the rain? Sharp, energetic strokes as the youkai leaned in close to the large canvas next to the bed. Sanzo choked, staring at his reflection as he was suddenly lost to images that weren't happening then or there. He could still even smell the youkai and the faint paint fumes from that night he had lost all memory of. That night where what he had feared so much had really happened. They had raped him, not just that one youkai responsible for that disgusting, goddamn painting, but all the lackeys he had mount up on Sanzo as well so he could have a live model. Sanzo bit his lip at the suddenly memory, trying very hard not to fall to the floor and start screaming in complete abandon.

He had cursed at them, spewing out any kind of threat he could think of, spitting in their faces and sending bloody murder out through his eyes, because there wasn't anything else he could do lashed down to the bed like cattle stretched out for slaughter.

They were foolish enough to leave his legs free, but it was already bad enough with his wrists lashed to opposite bedposts almost in a mockery of a crucifixion. The blue-eyed youkai had directed his minions to tie him down artistically with silk, mistaking Sanzo's pretty face for a sign of delicacy. He had allowed it, because it created a chance if the need be. No need to be hasty when the youkai hadn't really done anything worse than give him the beating of his life.

He had easily broken free when the first youkai approached the bed while it undid its pants, finally realizing just what they meant to do with him. He punched the youkai hard in the mouth and a resounding crack was followed by the broken, shattered bits of the youkai's oversized teeth hitting the floor. The blow was hell on his bruised sides and sent his brain spinning around inside his skull, but Sanzo still managing to get his legs underneath him, albeit a touch shakily. He would not be taken advantage. No fucking way.

Sanzo was on his knees, sweating, the floor swimming underneath his eyes. The sound of water dripping out from the faucet echoed in his ears while everything else churned and refused to focus. He curled his fingers against the cold tile, desperately trying to hold onto that little bit of reality instead of slipping further into his mind. He didn't want to remember all of a sudden, forgetting how much he hated not knowing what had happened. He didn't want the memory back, panic flaring up in his stomach like a monster finally unleashed. Sanzo bit his tongue hard to keep from crying out, the sharp tang of blood not enough to center him. It was reminiscent of the pain he should be in, but Kanzeon Bosatsu had already taken care of that.

Sanzo had managed to stand up with his arm wrapped around his side and took a step forward with the whole world spinning and waving around him… Before a different youkai was on him just his luck to be one of the larger and stupider ones. Sanzo was in no shape to dodge and couldn't even manage a decent guard. He got two more broken ribs and a punch that made his intestines harden up unbearably, but the youkai knew well enough not to touch Sanzo's face. It was humiliating to be treated so, but he couldn't do much about it when he just trying to keep broken bones from piercing his lungs. It had taken two youkai to drag him back toward the bed as he struggled, the mother-fucking 'artistic' leader watching impatiently.

Being thrown down on the mattress reawakened the pain in his back that he had momentarily been able to ignore in favor of worse hurts. His back, his goddamn back had been sliced open like meat in a butcher shop, and now the youkai were grinding raw flesh into the sheets underneath him. The pain was enough to overwhelm him, his eyesight turning into wavy grey… And wound up with thick horsehair rope that dug into his skin sharply, by far much thicker and stronger than the last. That didn't mean Sanzo didn't stop struggling in the slightest. He still had two loose legs which he took all advantage of, kicking out hard when a new demon put a hand on his bare thigh.

It was a bit more human looking this time, almost taller than Sanzo and certainly bigger with thick muscle. The youkai had hair white as snow and his skin was almost as pale as Sanzo's, the only color on the demon in his red eyes. It might have been an albino, but Sanzo didn't have much more time to think about it when the demon moved between his legs. Sanzo started to kick out, trying his best to get the youkai in the side of the head as he tried to fight of the panic that was starting to build up inexplicably in his throat.

The pale youkai caught Sanzo's ankle and punched the side of his knee hard with his other fist. It felt like the youkai had dropped a rock on his leg. A large and wet crack followed, surely signaling the joint breaking. It felt like it: explosive pain that laced out to the tips of his toes and up to his hip until his stomach tightened. Sanzo didn't cry out, not about to give them that tiny little fucking bit of satisfaction, but the leg flopped down to the bed in complete uselessness, spasming beyond his control. It still didn't matter how much he didn't want it, tied down naked to bed with no gun, no sutra, only his mediocre human strength compared with that of a youkai's.

Sanzo dry-retched on all fours, choking and coughing but doing little more than making spit hit the floor between his hands spread out flat on the tile. There wasn't much to come up, not with his fickle appetite and avoidance of sharing meals. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone watching him opening his mouth to eat, now more than ever, and as this new memory assaulted, Sanzo knew damn well why. He didn't merely want people to stop looking at him, he wanted to die and drop dead on the spot instead of even thinking of Goku, Gojyo, or Hakkai so much as glancing at him. How would he be able to look down on them when they had seen that atrocity which he had been the model for?

No matter how much it had hurt, no matter what those youkai had tried to do to break his spirit, he should have been able to fight back more. Had he been so panicked that he even forgot about the sutra? Ridiculous! Genjo Sanzo did not lose his calm like that, not even tied naked to a bed with impending rape. In retrospect, he couldn't believe how feeble and incoherent his struggles had been; like that of a child's. He should have been able to do more. He should have been able to fucking something.

"Are you finished yet?" the black-haired youkai that was watching it all called out, clearly frustrated with Sanzo's struggling. It was holding up a wooden palette in its hand with a brush at the ready in the other, waiting for Sanzo to get in the damned 'right' position, he supposed. Sanzo didn't know if he could bear it. He could tell himself it was just his body and all he had to do was live through it. If he could do that, he could kill them later. He could tell himself that, but the fact was the bed was surrounded by slavering youkai that were eagerly waiting a turn or some few already touching themselves in obvious excitement and a deranged artist. A youkai painter, at that. It was almost enough to make Sanzo puke, but he wasn't about to debase himself any further. He didn't want this audience of fucking animals to see his shame, not some dirty youkai that didn't even deserve the grace of being alive if they were going to try to take him like animals in heat.

The youkai between Sanzo's legs grinned and reached down to free his own member from his pants. Sanzo stared in profound horror at the demon's thin penis, reminding Sanzo of a worm as it twitched and wrinkled skin contracted. The youkai spat in its open palm and reached down to stroke itself; calling forth an erection that was terrifying because of the obvious intent. Sanzo thought he might even be able to take such a small dick, but he shouldn't even have to consider such a foul act. He was a High Priest, for crying out loud! Panic threatened to eat away at all senses at the prospect of having something shoved up his ass. He refused to be fucked in room full of demons eagerly watching, some already pounding their meat at the mere sight of him about to be dishonored in the most physical and intimate of ways. Sanzo bit down on the thought of virginity and his chastity before such an appalling fear could come into the picture as well. He was Genjo Sanzo, after all. Youkai simply didn't tie him down to beds to rape and paint him while it happened.

His arms were trembling so badly that he couldn't even hold himself up anymore. Sanzo rolled away from the little puddle of spittle he'd made on the floor, unable to even stand up as memory assaulted him. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He shouldn't have been scared about something so pathetic as his 'first time.' The monastery had held as much carnal interest as a desert, and Sanzo had never given thought to sex. He'd never even found a woman that was remotely desirable enough to bed, and usually just ignored the other members of the same sex. In fact, he ignored anyone. He didn't want love, didn't give a fuck about his virginity, which probably would have stayed with him the rest of life...Except the youkai had stolen that choice away from him. That was what made him sick and weak with rage.

Sanzo rolled back onto his shoulders and threw his legs up around the youkai's shoulders, locking his ankles together behind its head. He started squeezing as hard as possible, choking the youkai as it gurgled and clawed at his calves with sharp nails. He ignored the shooting pain that exploded on his legs, ignored his back feeling like it was going to burst open, roaring out the pain instead of letting it overwhelm him, concentrating solely on suffocating the life out of this piece of shit.

The youkai suddenly stopped trying to pry Sanzo's legs apart, and for a moment he thought he might be succeeding in killing the bastard. Then, warm hands grasped his hips and yanked Sanzo's body down to its groin so hard that the bedposts creaked and blood started to ooze down his wrists. He had the time to start a curse, and ended up wheezing out dead air as the youkai put the unfamiliar weight of an erection against Sanzo's ass in a moment of blind fumbling- before everything went white.

He'd never known such sheer agony before.

It was physically impossible for something as small as him to fit whatever the youkai was trying to shove in. There was no time to cope with the invasion that wasn't nearly slow enough for muscles to adjust even as his whole body clenched up in attempt to expel the foreign object. He squirmed up on the bed, blood-soaked sheets bunching up underneath him as he just tried to get away. The youkai grunted, got up on its knees and clamped two hands down on the top of Sanzo's thighs to keep his legs on the demon's shoulders.

Something tore inside him and there was blood as the youkai managed to get past the final bit of resistance. He shook, weak with the absolute, mind-numbing pain as the demon stayed there, a huge dick shoved up against his bladder and stomach. It felt like all his organs were being crushed up through his throat, enough that involuntary tears of pain traced down his face, but he still refused to scream. He had to bite down on his tongue between both set of teeth, but he wouldn't lose that little bit of stubborn pride.

And promptly forgot that promise when the youkai started to move back and in again, slowly as Sanzo's stubborn body kept trying to push the intruder out. Blood wasn't making a fair lubricant, but his cries spurred the youkai on despite the simple struggle to get its penis to fit back inside his very small, mauled, and bleeding anus. The tempo was picking up, like the youkai was going to hammer in a new spine through his ass, and Sanzo shook his head and struggled harder. Blood was painting down his arms now as he ropes cut into his wrists.

"Hold him still. Right there," the youkai ordered as it bent down close to the canvas and started working with fanatical energy. A sharp pang of mortification over that simple order: the disregard for him, the youkai giving him the same meaning so much as a piece of paper. It hurt even worse then what was happening to his body. Wounds of any type would heal eventually, even if it felt like the youkai was trying to slam a new spine into him, but pride was a thing that Sanzo clung to tenaciously. It was the only thing that he could believe in.

Gods...

Sanzo was shuddering so hard on the floor that he didn't even realize he was invoking the gods' name when he usually did his best to not give a damn. The humiliation was unspeakable, words failing to cover how plain dirty he felt. It was worse than the first few days after Komyou had died, when Sanzo hadn't be able to move out of his depression to even wash the blood off. He bit down hard on the urge to scream, so damn angry that things had turned out like this. He couldn't bear the shame. What was his pride worth now?

Sanzo reached up with a fumbling hand, his fingertips eventually touching the top of the counter. He pulled himself up off the floor and planted both hands out of the counter to steady himself. His damn knees tried to give out on him again, shaking like a newborn animal learning how to walk for the first time. When the fuck had it become like this? He couldn't remember a time before when he had felt so damn weak, never more aware of how utterly alone he was in this pain. He couldn't imagine talking to the others anyways, and what would they know of being held down and raped in front of a youkai audience with a perverted painter jacking off in the corner behind that fucking canvas?!

He punched the top of the counter hard enough once, his knuckles bruising and sending a numbing tingle up to his elbow, but it wasn't enough. There wasn't enough pain to cover up the horror of what had really happened; only emptiness that seemed to be taking over his whole body. His punched the hard stone again, repeatedly, trying to get his fist to finally break and shatter into a thousand fucking little pieces, just like he was. Sanzo didn't even realize he had split his knuckles until there was a splattering of red on the counter that was getting bigger with each hit.

Sanzo paused at that, looking up to glare at the reflection in the mirror while his arm trembled in shock. A thin, blonde, weak, little shit stared right back at him. Why if he have to be born with this cursed face? If he had been a typical bald and fat monk, he might have even gotten away with a quick death. Instead, he survived with the help of a few miracles… survived to feel the whole and complete indignity of what he had been through. He wondered for a moment if he might fall to the floor again as his legs shook, hoping with all of his meager, little heart that he wouldn't be assaulted by another memory. He could very well figure out what had happened from that point on.

The mirror swam in his vision and Sanzo thought for a moment he really might fall despite his wishes. Then, his eyes hit on the razor resting on the edge of the sink. Simple little piece of plastic with reasonably sharp blades at the end. It even looked new. Sanzo reached out for the razor, his hand reasonably steady as he picked it up and looked back at his shitty, pretty face. A swelling cheek and red lines underneath one eye weren't enough to blemish his striking features.

He could fix that soon enough, holding up the blade to his face.

* * *

Gojyo didn't like the way things were turning out at all. Oh, he wasn't about to complain that a Goddess had come down and saved Sanzo from sure death and sealed up Goku's youkai power again, because he and Hakkai certainly hadn't been managing on his own. If he could consider the deity a Goddess anymore after seeing the impressive endowment between her legs… Kanzeon Bosatsu had taken the time to heal Sanzo one hundred percent and than some by the untouched skin and actual color in that usual corpse-white face, even if Sanzo had been unconscious.

He hadn't wanted to touch Sanzo after that damn Goddess had told him, humiliated all the way down to his toes that she had the audacity to tell him to stick to Sanzo hard. He had almost been ready to sob out loud with gratitude when Hakkai ordered him to take Goku. He'd thrown the ape roughly in the back of the Jeep once they had gotten outside, saving the other backseat since Sanzo was still just too weak and recovering to be settled anywhere else than his other front seat. Funny how they could still think of Sanzo as being hurt and fragile even though Kanzeon Bosatsu had healed him to an unnerving degree.

Still, while Hakkai had loaded Sanzo up into the front seat, Gojyo had turned back with his lighter out. The place was old and dry, ready to go up in a second despite the heavy coat of snow on the roof. He lit anything that look like it might take up a spark in the entry room and outside on the porch. Hakkai had only watched on quietly, no words given as Gojyo climbed into the back of the jeep. And they had driven off in silence just like that with the mansion starting to smoke heavily behind. Gojyo hoped it would burn down to the very last ash.

They had come back into the hotel in silence and Gojyo had grabbed Goku up like a starving man reaching for food. He was most certainly not going to end up fucking someone just because some Goddess with a dick ordered him to. Hakkai seemed to agree, silently picking up Sanzo with a strength that belied his small form as Jeep transformed back into his more compact dragon form. So, they returned to the inn in a very uncomfortable silence as Hakkai politely asked for fresh clothes and some aspirin from the front desk over Sanzo's unconscious form in his arms. Gojyo ignored the other man and took Goku upstairs to the other room they had reserved, escaping into the bedroom before he could even get stuck in the single bed with Sanzo next door. No fucking way, not after what Kanzeon Bosatsu had said.

Gojyo even had enough time to start a cigarette after tucking the ape into bed before Hakkai had come knocking to interrupt his thoughts. The man silently offered a bottle of pain killers which Gojyo greedily took and swallowed four without any water. Hopefully, it would help the ache in the back of his neck and all along his sides from that stupid ape throwing him around like a new toy. Hakkai had remained silent for a while, which Gojyo was grateful for. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts, but he most certainly did not want to get involved with Sanzo in anyway. Why had that bitch of mercy planted that idea in his mind? Gojyo was about to run screaming at the thought of going to bed with Sanzo in an entirely different way than simply sharing a mattress. He bet Sanzo would bite.

Hell, he could lay money on it.

"Gojyo, could you watch Sanzo while I take a shower? I'll stay with him tonight after that," Hakkai had asked in almost begging way, like a lost puppy in the rain looking for an owner. Gojyo couldn't even say a word after that, pretty sure that it was another act with Hakkai, but understanding that the man probably did want to get clean after today. He just stood up and walked out the door without a sound, too preoccupied with a sudden dread as he walked out the door and into Sanzo's own. Gojyo even hesitated over closing the door, wondering for a moment if he really did want to be in an enclosed room with the priest right now.

Gojyo shook his head, not about to be scared of an unconscious monk. He closed the door and found the table in the middle of the room covered with a fair amount of bottles of hard liquor. Gojyo had raised an eyebrow at that, not so sure if they were meant for when Sanzo woke up, or if Hakkai was trying to go along with Kanzeon Bosatsu as well. But, Hakkai couldn't possibly be agreeing with that bitch! Hakkai knew better than anyone that Gojyo would rather drive nails through his palms before mounting Sanzo. That pretty face wasn't enough, would never be enough, to make up for the sour attitude underneath. Gojyo, despite contrary belief, did like a little personality to the countless bed partners he had had over the years.

He took a seat at the table, glancing over at the motionless blonde head on the pillows. Why the hell did Kanzeon Bosatsu have to say something like that, plant a little bit of doubt in his mind to whether it was a bad idea or not? Gojyo shook his head fiercely at that and opened up one of the bottle just to stop the thoughts from drifting in that direction. He liked women, full breasts, big red lips, and fleshy hips. Sanzo had a dick and a tight set of pale lips that spat out the most incredible curses. He was skinny as a rail too, like a kid who hadn't quite hit puberty, but if Gojyo ever made the mistake of weight making a difference, Sanzo would always prove different. Gojyo had his own amount of scars from that asshole and would have beaten the shitty monk into the ground long ago if Hakkai and Goku didn't get in the way all the time.

Thunder rolled and Gojyo looked outside to the see a sky much darker than he had thought it would be, heavy clouds that were flashing with lightning. The wind was howling, making Gojyo wonder how he had missed this storm coming in.

The cigarette burned all the way down to the end and half a bottle of whiskey was gone before Gojyo finally decided that Hakkai had been given more than enough time to finish up with the shower. He capped the bottle and walked toward the door slowly, unable to help a look back at the still figure on the bed. Sanzo didn't interest him in the slightest, unless it was to beat the utter crap out of the snobby little son of a bitch. Gojyo was almost glad that the monk was laid out in a bed again; quiet: the only way Gojyo could stand the man.

Because, if Sanzo wasn't unconscious in a bed right now, he would have been dead ten times over. Gojyo shook his head and turned the doorknob to go find Hakkai. He didn't want to have these sorts of thoughts, not when he was already starting to feel drunk. He pushed against the door when it stuck for a moment, and then found himself throwing his body against it when the door refused to even budge. He heard something on the outside scrape but nothing moved. Gojyo slammed his fist against the wood in frustration, realizing that he was stuck in this room.

Just when he thought Hakkai had for once been on his side and knew that he did not want to follow through with this divine command. Gojyo shook the knob and threw his weight against it one more time, wondering just what the hell Hakkai had done to the door. Stubbornly, Gojyo kicked the door and growled. Maybe it hadn't been Hakkai or all, but that damn Kanzeon Bosatsu again. He couldn't be sure of anything right now. All he knew was that this was putting a severe damper on his plan to avoid Sanzo like the plague. Now he was stuck back in the room with the monk.

Gojyo went over to the window and grimaced at the downpour that was suddenly coming down, heavier than the last storms. He could even make out pieces of hail that hit hard against the glass. He could escape out the window, depending on how much he wanted to tempt fate on the way down the roof to the first floor. The storm looked fit to kill anyone foolish enough to stumble out there. Gojyo grimaced, looking over the particularly ominous lump in the bed.

Well, it wasn't like Sanzo was going to jump out of the bed anytime soon. As long as he stayed a good distance away from that corner of the room, he really didn't have anything to worry about! Gojyo could certainly control himself, and he was not, simply refused to even think of the idea of actually wanting Sanzo. Gojyo would lay money on the monk being hard as rocks inside and out, stomping back to the table and snatching up the bottle he hadn't finished yet before falling into the seat he had left only seconds ago.

If that Goddess thought she was going to force Gojyo into fucking High Priest Genjo Sanzo, that bitch had another thing coming. Gojyo wasn't about to bed anyone against his will or theirs; and he was more than certain that Sanzo didn't want any man coming around him with such ideas. He had already shot other such foolish villagers or large idiots they passed along the way who made the mistake of thinking or treating Sanzo like a woman. Just because he was thin didn't mean he wasn't ready to tear someone's head off at the drop of a coin.

Gojyo sourly finished the bottle in silence, concentrating on other things than unconscious monks with very unique and rare blonde hair. Like women he had had sex with before, his conquests dotted with a few pretty boys that could do wonderful things with his mouth when the other gender free to make love was in scarce quantity. Sanzo might have a face that could top them all, but the downward slant of his eyes and tight line of lips made lovely features contemptuous. And his mouth! Gojyo couldn't believe someone who cursed that much could actually have made it to High Priest. Had the committee that appointed Sanzo been completely deaf?

He moved onto a bottle of scotch, still not smashed enough for his thoughts to turn right back around onto Sanzo right now. Damn that Goddess for saying such things! How was he supposed to even feel comfortable around that little prick when he knew that up in Heaven, Kanzeon Bosatsu was watching eagerly in anticipation? Gojyo grimaced and took a new swig from the bottle, not bothering with glasses even if there had been some provided. Why did Sanzo have to be such a disagreeable bastard? If only there had been one ounce of kindness in the bastard, Gojyo might actually have been considering following through with Kanzeon Bosatsu's none-too-vague order.

Maybe getting drunk was a bad idea if he was actually even thinking of considering it being not so repulsive. Gojyo was about to throw the bottle away when Sanzo had shot out of the bed like he'd been physically ripped out of unconsciousness, panting hard and staring forward at nothing. Gojyo almost dropped the scotch in surprise but managed to hold on, pretty damn sure that the monk didn't even know he was in the room right now. Gojyo was about to say something to the blonde hen lightning struck outside the window, calling all of Sanzo's attention.

Then, the monk was out off the bed and headed toward the bathroom before Gojyo could even wave to the man to let him know that he was in the room. He was sure that Sanzo would just love hearing that they were locked in the room together. Gojyo would be damned before telling the reason why though. The door slammed shut and Gojyo was more than happy to stay silent. He wasn't about to draw attention to himself in a shitty situation like this.

There was silence while he got halfway down in the bottle of scotch and through two more cigarettes; fucked up enough to start wondering back to that picture without cringing away mentally. It had just been too harsh, too real; and Sanzo had gone through it long enough for such painstaking detail come up. At least he knew that he had burned it before anyone else could see it, at least anyone living that would go around bragging about Genjo Sanzo being tied down to a bed. It made Gojyo have to pause in the middle of drinking, disturbingly furious and having no outlet for it. He wanted to hit something, mostly the youkai that Goku had already torn into tiny little pieces.

Sanzo was sure taking his own sweet time in the crapper. Gojyo leaned back to look at the closed door in curiosity, glancing back at the bed just to make sure that Sanzo really had gotten up. He wondered if he should check to see if the skinny asshole had fallen into the toilet or was drowning in the bathtub, with Sanzo's luck of late. Then again, Sanzo had probably gone in there for a reason, and Gojyo was more than willing to give the man his space. He'd already been through quite enough, so a little more craziness than usual should be expected. It meant more precious time to himself before Sanzo opened up the door and started bitching at him for whatever reason the blonde had thought up this time.

There was the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh and Gojyo started in his chair, staring down at his own hands in curiosity for a moment, pretty sure that he hadn't just hit anything. There was nothing else after that, so he dismissed it to the storm and went back to nursing the scotch as he wrote it off as the storm outside. He picked up his half-empty pack of cigarettes on the table and considered another stick while the wind started to blow even harder outside. Then, Gojyo heard something heavy hit the floor in the bathroom and knew damn well it wasn't the fucking weather anymore.

Sanzo.

Gojyo stood up so fast from the table he nearly upset the chair, but suddenly found himself more preoccupied with concentrating on staying upright rather than trying to keep furniture from falling over. He was pretty sure that there were no windows in the bathroom, suddenly cursing himself for not looking just in case they were attacked, for getting intoxicated enough to make the short distance to the other room a struggle. Kanzeon Bosatsu was right: that he was failing his duty to protect Sanzo. It there were youkai going after the High Priest Genjo Sanzo in the room right now, Gojyo would never forgive himself.

He expected the door to be locked, but found that it swung open easily underneath his shaking hand. Sanzo was half-naked, stripped down to the ragged and bloodstained pajamas, holding a plastic razor his own face, obviously ready to do a lot fucking worse than a shave. Gojyo could have killed Mei Li for leaving toiletries for them. Sanzo's eyes flicked over to him once, new swelling on the monk's cheek and red lines blossoming into life starting under his washed-out eyes. It looked suspiciously like nails. In the bright light of the bathroom, Gojyo swore that Sanzo actually looked frightened, trembling with his irises contracted into small pinpoints surrounded by light lavender

"What the hell are you doing?" Gojyo demanded as he rushed forward, snatching Sanzo's wrist before the monk could do anything to himself. He already had the sinking suspicious that the blonde was responsible for the fresh bruise coming in on the side of his face. Sanzo was limp for a moment, as if he was in shock while Gojyo grabbed the razor out of his limp hand and tossed it somewhere, just away from Sanzo. The monk was docile for a second longer, like a child caught in the middle of doing something wrong, and then Gojyo was meant with resistance and a weak punch to the gut. He grit his teeth and bore it, since Sanzo was still nowhere near his real strength after being completely being healed by the Goddess of Mercy only a few hours ago.

"Bastard! Let me go! Let me go!" Sanzo demanded hoarsely, his voice as low as a snake's hiss as he went still and tried to demand Gojyo to follow his will. He only gripped the limb tighter; sure he was bruising the smaller man but not about ready to give a fuck. Just what the fuck was going through the shitty monk's mind right now? Gojyo noticed the red knuckles and split skin. Sanzo didn't rage, not like this. Not on himself.

"So you can hit yourself? What the hell is wrong with you?!" Gojyo roared, jerking the captured arm hard enough to make Sanzo lose his balance for a moment. The man slammed his free hand against the edge of the sink hard enough to make Gojyo wince in sympathy for the knuckles…even if he was trying to shake some sense into the man right now. Sanzo looked up with an expression fit to kill and a stubborn look in his eyes, now focused enough to show a little bit of violet around the black circles of his pupils.

"Let. Go. Now."

There was nothing but silence between them, Gojyo not about to let the matter drop as he glared right back at the selfish priest. The rain pounded on the roof above their heads as wind hit against the whole inn. The sink was leaking, a fat heavy drop hitting the porcelain sink every now and then. For a moment, Gojyo didn't think that Sanzo was even breathing.

"Please," Sanzo uttered softly enough to almost be covered by the roar of the wind and rain against the building. The shock made Gojyo to loosen his grip unintentionally; just enough to let Sanzo jerk his hand back and cover the swelling on his cheek. Sanzo's eyes dropped back to the ground, not able to meet Gojyo's gaze. He stood there without even moving, trying to melt into the floor with hunched over shoulders.

And Sanzo's hand suddenly snapped out from his grip as the monk stepped away as haughtily as any high-bred, spoiled brat, curved over his arm like Gojyo had broken it. "You fucker," Sanzo hissed, not knowing how close to the truth he was hitting right now. Damn Kanzeon Bosatsu for making things complicated. He might have been able to make it through a night stuck in the same room with Genjo Sanzo before, but now that Gojyo knew the Gods were waiting on him to give it Sanzo good…he just didn't even want to think about the priest right now, nor his fucked-up outbursts of self-violence!

"Yeah, I know. I don't think that's worse than trying to cut yourself," Gojyo returned, not about to let the subject slide by. Sanzo took a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly tense and his back straight as a board, looking for all the world like an offended cat.

"I wasn't going to, you complete and utter fucking idiot," Sanzo denied as he stomped a bare foot on the ground. He had his hands on his hips, obviously not aware of the loose pants going low enough to show a fair amount of white skin underneath his bellybutton. Between the distinctive slopes of muscle leading down to their oh-so-high-and-mighty leader's groin there wasn't even the slightest bit of body hair. Gojyo bit on his lower lip, furiously jerking his gaze up before Sanzo realized he was staring; and then found it to be a horrible mistake as his eyes hit two pert, pink nipples. He somehow managed to get past the elegant swan-curve of Sanzo's neck to the set of lavender eyes glaring violent death at him.

"Then, did you accidentally slip and fall on your fist, too?" Gojyo demanded as he pointed at Sanzo's hand still clamped over the swelling bruise. Sanzo opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, caught without an acidic comment immediately at the ready for once. His eyes got all hard and he looked away from Gojyo like he had suddenly ceased to exist in the doorway. Sanzo bent down and picked up his robe from the floor without another word, clearly avoiding the matter as he pulled his arms through the white sleeves and wrapped sash around his waist, as prudish as ever. He went down again for the sutra as well before Gojyo realized it and snatched the unfolded scripture up before the wrong person could get it. Namely Sanzo.

"You… What… Give it the fuck back," Sanzo sputtered in pure rage, lunging forward to make a grab for the sutra before Gojyo danced back, just a little bit faster only by the grace of Sanzo still a bit groggy from being healed by Kanzeon Bosatsu. Gojyo managed to get it rolled back up into a scroll before Sanzo was on him. He held the sutra up as high as possible, just like any schoolyard bully. Sanzo even made an instinctive jump for it before turning red in the face with anger, realizing that it was too high up for him.

So, Sanzo slammed a fist into Gojyo's sternum, forcing him to drop the sutra and wrap two arms around his sides against the pain. He choked and gagged while Sanzo slipped the scroll into the folds of his robes, making the Maten Scripture disappear like a magic trick. Sanzo turned on the heel of his foot and stalked away while Gojyo wheezed as he finally managed to gain back his breath. Thank all that was holy that Gojyo had been drunk, or else that punch could have hurt like hell. As it was, he was good enough to take a seat at the table and reintroduce himself to the scotch in a bitter silence. He would need a lot of alcohol to nurse this wounded pride.

How could he even be having thoughts like this about the monk that deserved a few good slaps to the face? Sanzo's eyes slid over Gojyo before sliding over to the door as he shoved his hands into opposite large sleeves, trying to look solemn as all hell when Gojyo had caught him in the middle of trying to shave his face off. He couldn't understand why Sanzo would want to do that to his features, good-looking and a degree above handsome no matter how sour he was. Gojyo knew he had a unique face with strong features and he was damn smug about it. How could Sanzo not feel the same?

"It's locked," Gojyo offered as Sanzo started over to the door, obviously ready to get the hell out of his company. Sanzo ignored him and tried it anyways, shoving his shoulder against the door when it didn't open. There was a curse as Sanzo reached inside his robe for the Smith and Wesson.

"Hakkai's got your gun, and I think it's barricaded, so we can't do shit," Gojyo advised, feeling lucky as all hell that Hakkai had decided to take the weapon for the night, especially after Kanzeon Bosatsu's announcement. That little bastard had it all planned out from the beginning, playing matchmaker behind that calm and polite smile. Gojyo looked out the window, wondering if the Goddess didn't have something to do with the weather too. The storm would keep them both from escaping, but Sanzo got exceptionally pissed and silent when it rained.

"Why?" Sanzo snapped out as he slammed down into the chair across from Gojyo, glaring at him with a look that meant he was not pleased at all. Short sentences were a sign to how angry the monk was; and Gojyo could tell that one syllable didn't bode well for his immediate future.

"Fuck me, I don't know," Gojyo growled out without thinking, and then immediately regretted his choice of words. Sanzo kept on glaring at him as he reached forward and started tearing off the top of a tequila bottle; not accepting the answer and clearly waiting for more. Gojyo took another swallow of the scotch, feeling like a real ass now. How did Kanzeon Bosatsu expect him to want to have… se--- intercourse? … Whatever with Sanzo when he couldn't even mention to act in front of him?

"Hakkai probably did it to keep you from running out on your own to go kill some more youkai," Gojyo grumbled out, thinking fast for an excuse. Sanzo grunted and seemed to take that for an answer. He unscrewed the cap and tossed it in the middle of the table, ricocheting against the other bottles before landing. Sanzo took his first shot of tequila without even bothering with a glass, just tiled back that strong jaw and started swallowing like it was water. Gojyo's eyebrows shot up as he watched the shitty monk finish off a good fourth of the bottle before finally pulling his lips away and gasping in satisfaction.

"Are they all dead?" Sanzo asked finally, his eyes settling on the top of the tequila in his hand as he let it rest on his thigh.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Goku killed most of them," Gojyo shrugged, delicately avoiding the fact that the youkai that didn't get the mercy of a quick death had likely been permanently maimed anyways. Sanzo would have taken a little to much joy out of it than Gojyo liked humans too, still half-demon in the end.

"Then Hakkai doesn't have to fucking worry," Sanzo grumbled out as he tossed a glance back at the window. The wind had gotten stronger, if anything, and it was starting to hail now as small circles of ice hit the window. There was lightning again and Sanzo started, outright jumped in his seat before combing a hand through his hair in an attempt to hide the startlement. Gojyo didn't comment on Sanzo's lack of his usual concealment when the shitty monk was usually about as emotionally connected as a rock.

"Goku?"

The small little utterance of the ape's name was almost enough to make Gojyo fall out of his chair. He was taken back once again by Sanzo actually giving a fuck about someone other than himself. Gojyo had to put the bottle in his lap just to look the monk straight in the eye. There was nothing in those plum-colored irises to hint to if Sanzo was actually concerned or just curious if the kid was dead or not.

"He's sleeping it off. Kanzeon Bosatsu came down just to put him in his fucking place," Gojyo growled with a shrug, still not believing that the God/Goddess of Mercy had actually come all the way from heaven to save Goku when they hadn't even been fighting a big-name demon. Gojyo still didn't know what to call the bastard that had been the ringleader of everything that had happened to Sanzo, just glad that he was dead and pretty sure Sanzo had gotten some satisfaction out of landing a bullet in the demon's head. Of course, Goku had gone crazy on them afterward, so he supposed that had been enough reason for Kanzeon Bosatsu to intervene.

That didn't mean she had to get naked and show off her junk. It was un-fucking-believable that a Goddess had a dick that almost reached her knees. Just what the hell was wrong with the world?! Gojyo finished off the scotch as flashes of Kanzeon Bosatsu kissing him in order to transfer blood to Sanzo, like the times before when Sanzo had been on the verge of death. Gojyo couldn't even imagine what it must feel like to have died a half dozen times and still wake up the next morning, but he didn't even want to think about it if it meant getting half as sour of an attitude as Sanzo had.

"I burned the painting along with the rest of the place, so there can't be anything left alive out there," Gojyo offered, hoping that the knowledge might be enough to put Sanzo at ease. He didn't like seeing the monk like this, so not-Sanzo, but then again, after all that happened, how could he expect any different? Gojyo hadn't wanted that piece of shit that some youkai had taken all the time to paint being left in even a single strand of canvas, just as much as Sanzo had to.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, Sanzo suddenly breathing out sharply through his nose as his eyes fixed on the wall in pure rage. He wasn't really seeing anything right then, Gojyo supposed, his gaze distance and fixed somewhere else despite the raw emotion that was in them… Not that a bit of it showed on Sanzo's face. The silence stretched out between them, Gojyo too scared to even take a drink lest he become the focus of Sanzo's anger.

"Good," Sanzo grunted after a moment before lifting up the bottle and hitting the tequila just as heavily as he had the first time. Sanzo wasn't showing any signs of stopping soon either, like he was damn determined to catch up and pass Gojyo's one empty bottle and half-finished scotch. Gojyo's eyebrows shot up, not sure if it was already the little bit of liquor Sanzo had taken in or if he actually meant it. Either way, it was strange for Sanzo to say anything at all, much less have it be 'good.'

Gojyo sniffed, not sure where he should continue the conversation from there but pretty damn sure that Sanzo didn't want to hear his voice at the time. He went back to work on the scotch, tilting back the glass as he stared around the neck at Sanzo. There wasn't even the slightest wink from the monk as he set down the tequila quietly, as if to not draw attention to himself. Damn it all, but the quietness was starting to feel companionable.

"Hakkai?" Sanzo asked, showing a rare bout of concern for the other people they traveled with. Gojyo set the second empty bottle down on the table, almost ready to check Sanzo for a fever.

"Goku gave him a good hit, but he's fine," Gojyo informed Sanzo. He nodded and then was silent, going back to giving the tequila the unique pleasure of his company. Gojyo tisked and looked around on the table, certain that there was still enough hard liquor to make Sanzo even somewhat tolerable. At least now he was starting to get a fair enough buzz to not want to kill the shitty monk, but he still wanted to give him a good crack or two. His alcohol tolerance had gotten too high to deal with this right now, at least with the meager arsenal on the table.

Gojyo picked out the bottle of gin in the table while Sanzo nursed the rest of his tequila in a sullen silence with his eyes locked on the door, was trying to blow it open with the power of his glare alone. His eyes flicked over to the window, jumping ever so slightly when lightning cracked in the sky, clearly trying to decide if it would be worth going out in the storm if it meant escape. Just how much did Sanzo detest him if was thinking about going out in the rain?

"Are you sure we can't fucking ram the door open?" Sanzo asked when he finally got his lips off of the bottle, suddenly making it sound like they were a team because it suited him at the time.

"Why don't you try it with your damn face? Wouldn't that be a little more efficient?" Gojyo sneered, wanting to make it clear that he didn't want to be in the room anymore than Sanzo did right then. Sanzo's eyes shrunk down to narrow, dangerously slits of pure hatred as Gojyo only smiled back smugly, hoping he had hit the sore spot right on the fucking head.

"Give me a reason. One more fucking word, just one fucking syllable, and I will kill you," Sanzo swore with a look in his eyes that meant he wasn't joking. There wasn't much to back it up with except that damn sutra, but Gojyo was pretty confident he could punch Sanzo right in his acid-spewing mouth before the blonde could try to murder him barehanded; either way, it wouldn't be pretty. It wasn't like Gojyo had anything better to do when they were locked in a room together, so why not try poking the bear for some entertainment?

"And then yourself? Just what the hell is wrong with you?" Gojyo snapped, picking on Sanzo's sudden streak of self-destructiveness. Besides, it was worth the hell that he'd have to pay just to see Sanzo's face pale even further and his lips harden into two grey lines, all the blood smashed out of his skin.

"Fuck off! I'll do as I damn well please," was the mangled answer punctuated by the empty tequila bottle flying past Gojyo's head to shatter against the door behind him.

"Mature, Sanzo, real fucking smooth," Gojyo grumbled out as he took a sip from the gin, slower with the drinking now that he had to be careful about Sanzo trying to take off his head. Sanzo's mouth was left hanging open for more threats, but he suddenly he looked like all the air had been let out, a doll with the strings cut as he slumped back into the chair in eloquent misery. Gojyo didn't know what to say to that either, not about to ask about whatever dark thoughts Sanzo was starting to indulge in.

Sanzo let his eyes drift over the table and picked up another bottle of whiskey, sullen as all hell and not about to say another word. Just one big bundle of pain and frustration that Gojyo wanted to slap the shit out of half the time. Scratch that. All the time. Hell, he'd be doing it right now if he still couldn't get the image of Sanzo hunched over the table like a beaten dog, covered in bandages and bruises. Just because he was all healed on the outside now didn't mean that the damage was still lingering inside. They had all seen that… shit the youkai had put on a canvas. There was serious doubt to Sanzo's already questionable sanity after this. Hell, it had thrown Goku into full-blow berserker. Gojyo was sure Sanzo had to be eaten up inside, even if he didn't show it.

The blonde's head slumped forward over the neck of the whiskey bottle, silent and clearly ready to murder anyone that chose to break the quietness. There were no words that Gojyo could come up with, not sure if he should even be considering trying to comfort Sanzo. The shitty monk would probably kill him for even thinking that the great Genjo Sanzo was getting depressed. Gojyo was surprised this hadn't come up earlier, but he was pretty damn sure that Sanzo hadn't remembered what had happened until now.

"Goku would be upset if he knew you were trying to hurt yourself," Gojyo said quietly as he pulled out a fresh cigarette and passed it to the priest, trying to think of a good reason that wouldn't sound like complete bullshit. Sanzo slowly looked up from that with eyes dead as a corpse's, not even reflecting the light from the bulb above their heads. One pale, washed-out hand reached up and took the cigarette; each and every knuckle split open and glistening brown-red as the scabs started to form. Gojyo passed Sanzo a lighter in silence, knowing damn well not to mention that the monk had probably broken his hand while he waited for Sanzo's return.

"He's the only idiot who gives a fuck," Sanzo grumbled darkly as the monk light up the end of his stick and tossed the Zippo back over the bottles covering the table. Gojyo caught it out of the air while Sanzo started sucking down the cigarette like a lifeline as well as the alcohol, double-fisting in his depression. Then, Sanzo choked and started coughing on the smoke like it was the first time he'd ever smoked. The priest couldn't even stop the hacking and ended up taking another long swallow to calm them. Gojyo's jaw dropped, stunned that the man could actually have the arrogance to say that out loud, much less actually believe it.

"You think Hakkai isn't worried fucking sick? He's lost weight in the past week just trying to look after you, you shitty monk," Gojyo half-yelled, stunned that Sanzo could honestly ignore how concerned Hakkai and Goku were over him. Hakkai was looking stretched out and strained at the edges, obviously because of Sanzo and the horrible state he had been in only a few hours ago. It was still a strange miracle to see Sanzo walking around alive and well, no matter how much he was practically begging Gojyo to beat him just as severely one more time.

"And you? Are you upset I want to kill myself? Aren't you just happy I'm willing to do it, stop the mission without you having to feel guilty?" Sanzo questioned in a bitter-sweet, mocking voice; looking at Gojyo leveled with that familiar distaste in his eyes as smoke leaked out from between his lips. It was Gojyo's turn to be speechless, his mind going completely blank when he tried to figure out an answer.

Give him the razor back and tell him to be fucking quick about it!

Hold him and tell him everything is going to be all right.

Both were complete lies, but Gojyo couldn't even think of what might be in the middle. He didn't know what to do when faced with a slightly intoxicated and very irritable monk as Sanzo sucked hard on the cigarette like it was a lifeline, his eyes narrowed down to dark little slits as he visible choked again and suppressed it. Gojyo couldn't very well tell Sanzo that he was being a pain in the ass, not when those violet eyes that were trying so hard to be angry and strong were failing miserably. Behind that glare of utter hatred, Gojyo could see a glimpsed of someone that was just begging for a little bit of human comfort.

"I'm sad you want to hurt yourself," Gojyo said simply, no eloquent words coming to mind. Only the simple truth would do here, and it was true. No matter how much he hated the shitty monk, he had started to get adjusted to the man. It just wouldn't be right if Sanzo wasn't there to curse and bitch as he always did. He was used to getting yelled at, for being wrong all the time. Just when had Sanzo started to think that even that small interaction didn't mean a thing?

"I. Don't. Care," Sanzo hissed out in a bitterly cold voice, refusing and dismissing Gojyo's small amount of concern within a mere second. He ground his teeth; trying very hard not to reach across the table and slap Sanzo silly. How could the bastard still manage to be that cold and relentless when Gojyo was just merely trying to keep good company was beyond him. They were locked in the room together, so why not make the most of it? Once again, Gojyo looked down at the assorted alcohol that was to be shared between them and decided it still wasn't enough. Not enough to be drunk enough to stand this particular shitty monk's company.

"That's too fucking bad then, I guess," Gojyo returned, not about to be the one that the conversation ended on. Sanzo stared back at him with those same eerie eyes that didn't even glimmer with the slightest bit of distaste. There was just nothing, not even a hint of the usual uncaring and disgusted Sanzo. This was something worse, something deeper than mere hated for all human and youkai kind. This was defeated Sanzo.

"Nobody should give a shit," Sanzo grumbled to himself, a bit of self-depreciation Gojyo had always suspected coming though. He stabbed out the cigarette on the table as Gojyo stared down at the speed which he'd finished it off in. Sighing, Gojyo took another drink as he shook his head at the attitude. The monk was capable of a surmising amount of loathing, and most of it was directed at himself. Gojyo couldn't understand how Sanzo could be so cold and repressed all the time; all Hakkai would give him was a vague answer about something happening in Sanzo's childhood. It had to do with these damn rainstorms and the fits of dark depression the priest fell into, along with the weather.

"Hey, the Gods would have my ass if you died," Gojyo returned jokingly, trying to break the mood Sanzo had fallen into. Sanzo peeked up from the top of the tequila with a small bit of the usual sardonic arch of his eyebrow, eyes narrowing in pure disgust. It was almost reassuring.

"That's the best reason for all of us, huh?" Sanzo asked in a rare show of deep wisdom that a priest should have, no matter how depressing it was. It was honesty, at least for him and Sanzo. The priest didn't give a damn about anyone, so Gojyo had only ended up getting attached to Goku and Hakkai. There were a few times when Sanzo would come sulking up like a beaten dog; so tentative about bumming a cigarette that Gojyo gave one out of pity before Sanzo would feel any worse. He could tell how much it galled Sanzo to simply ask someone for the smallest of favors, and could only wonder what had happened to make the man that way.

"I just don't want to see Hakkai and Goku upset," Gojyo added, not about to let Sanzo get away with that excuse. A damn good one, Gojyo would have to give him that, but it wasn't all the way true. There was a little bit more reason to worry than holy punishment if Sanzo died. Things certainly wouldn't be the same, not without that blonde there to yell, walk over, curse, and put everyone back in their place. He was used to an angry and bitter Sanzo, not this morose thing sitting across the table.

"This doesn't concern them," Sanzo started calmly, disregarding the other two like yesterday's newspaper. He raised the bottle to his lips and was stopped by Gojyo's hand slamming down on the top of the table.

"It fucking does when you turn masochist on us. I don't want to see you trying to slice your damn face off ever again," Gojyo roared out, making sure that Sanzo knew right then and there was exactly was going on. Sanzo may be their unspoken leader, but that didn't mean he always got his way; and Gojyo was definitely putting his foot down on this one. Sanzo glared at him and he returned the look right back. Neither of them even so much as batted an eye; Gojyo determined not to lose this silent battle of wills and Sanzo used to winning all the time.

It was broken by Mother Nature herself: lighting crashing in the window, close enough to the building to make the floors shake. Sanzo half-jumped out of his chair before disguising it as a long reach to the other side of the table for the other scotch. Gojyo didn't comment as thunder rolled and made the bottle in Sanzo's pale hand visibly shake despite a white-knuckled grip around the neck. The priest sank back down into his chair slowly, doing his best to look like nothing was wrong.' Gojyo wasn't about to be fooled, but he allowed it to go by without saying anything. He had already said too much, it seemed.

There was silence after that and Gojyo didn't feel like breaking it. They were both thinking their own thoughts, and sometimes no words served best. He finished off his own bottle in time to Sanzo's with the rain pounding on roof above their heads. Gojyo would hope that the shitty priest would start to feel a bit smashed, because the room was already starting to tilt in the corners for him. It didn't really matter though, because the alcohol was starting to work its magic. Sanzo wasn't jumping so much at lightning anymore, a sure sign that the monk was starting to get drunk. He still wasn't sloshed enough to want to talk, so Gojyo kept on drinking to keep up with Sanzo while looked around the room in pure boredom.

Why couldn't have been a woman that got locked in the same room with him instead of a sour-ass monk that would kill him as soon as talk civilly? Sanzo might as well of had a 'Do Not Enter' sign hung on his forehead and a barbed wire fence around him. He was so unapproachable that it would take nothing short of a miracle to get them in the same bed together… beyond these few nights where it had been out of necessity. He wouldn't tell Sanzo, but it would bug him if the man was gone. Hell, it would make him sad, just the thought enough to turn his stomach. He had grown just as used to a paper fan to the head as he had to Goku's insatiable appetite and Hakkai's constant smile.

Gojyo really couldn't remember a time before this when he had felt more at home, like there was a place where he belonged; exactly in the backseat of the jeep as they went West. Even more so than at home with good old Mom and Bro, than the few months he had spent alone with Hakkai- those though times had seemed pretty damn peaceful, despite how much he got beat at cards. He felt better now, able to fight just about every other day and see people's joyous faces when they learned that they could now live without fear. It still all had a bitter tinge to it though, since he was killing off his father's kind. Gojyo just hoped that they would finally get to the land they were headed for, so no more youkai would have to suffer. Half of them didn't even know what they were doing; so far gone into the madness. However, a few too many actually rejoiced in that, unable to deny the call of demon's blood and power.

Gojyo rubbed his chin, wondering about the youkai who went further into the madness than usual, like the ones that grew wings or were so huge that they might as well be ogres. It was already fanciful enough calling them demons, but there really wasn't a better word to describe youkai whe-

"You… You don't think anyone else saw it, right?" Sanzo interrupted his thoughts in a hushed voice, just barely audible above the rain and chink of the second empty bottle the monk put down. Gojyo blinked at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what Sanzo must be talking about. 'It' must mean that piece of shit he'd burned back at the mansion… that "painting ," since there wasn't another word to describe it, even though Gojyo didn't think anything with artistic connotation should be attached to it.

"Just us… and Goku killed everyone else," Gojyo gave back, his heart twisting up into a huge knot in his chest at the question. Just who could live through something like that? Oh, certainly, if anyone was strong enough to do it, it would be the number one shitty High Priest Genjo Sanzo in his all of his glory. Assholes like Sanzo didn't get licked from everyday beatings from youkai. They did seem to break down after getting gang-raped and recorded on paper. Gojyo couldn't blame him, but felt worthless and ineffective, no words or comfort coming to mind. Sanzo was the most well-collected person he knew, and now the thin, jaded man was falling apart.

"Fuck," Sanzo whispered out, suddenly clasping his hands together and bringing them up to rest against his forehead as he slumped forward over the table on his elbows. Blonde hair glistened like gold in the glowing light of the bulb above them, picture perfect pain and humiliation apparent in every line of his body.

"Fucking youkai."

"Just that one," Gojyo strangled out before Sanzo could go off on his usual rant of hatred for all youkai and sincere desire for their mass extermination.

"Like the ones before it? Like all the others that have tried to eat me? I'm damn sick of those animals," Sanzo snarled back, shooting out of his chair with pure fury in his eyes. This time, Sanzo was standing up with clear intention to fight, not because of the thunder scaring him again. He wanted Gojyo to rise to the challenge, and he was almost too eager to meet it, ready to pound the little blonde bitch into the ground once and for all.

"You just write them all off like that, shithead! There have been some good ones too," Gojyo insisted, standing up as well to meet Sanzo head on. He had been a slow boiling for violence long enough and was more than ready to fight with Sanzo if the priest wanted to make himself a target. Hakkai and Goku weren't there to stop it, no weapons, just fists and words. Gojyo might be far outweighed by Sanzo when it came to a violent tongue-lashing, but simple size and muscle would beat that deceptively thin priest any day, martial arts or not.

"Defending your own kind, now? Typical youkai half-breed," Sanzo snapped out, eyes blazing in anger now. This was more like the Sanzo he knew, the single sentence enough to make Gojyo's jaw drop open in shock at the audacity. He still couldn't believe how utterly coarse and vile Sanzo could be at times, always forgetting that the priest lacked a single shred of humanity. Gojyo was around the table and standing over Sanzo without another thought,

"Say that one more time, just fucking once. Please," Gojyo begged as he shook a finger in Sanzo's face, sure that not even Hakkai would be able to tell him to just calm down after what Sanzo had said. Hell, the brunette might even tell him it was all right to give the prejudiced priest a good one to the face, one even better than what Sanzo had already given himself.

"You heard me, you rotten youkai bastard," Sanzo spat out with a fist of his own heading at Gojyo's cheek before he had time to throw one in response to this new insult. Amazing how Sanzo could always make things worse. Still, the monk was sluggish in his movements, likely more than a bit tipsy from the drinks, and still recovering for whatever Kanzeon Bosatsu had done to heal him like brand new. Gojyo caught Sanzo by the wrist, his own hand seeming huge around Sanzo's thin arm as he twisted it, digging his thumb hard into the big, blue vein underneath the joint.

Muscles popped and bones creaked before Sanzo gave out a small grunt, one that spoke volumes of how damn uptight the man was. Gojyo's anger fled, replaced by curiosity that was mostly fueled from the warm liquor in belly… And a little bit of wonderment at the sudden shift and relaxation under his thumb. He squeezed his fingers into Sanzo's arm experimentally, not to hurt this time, but soothe away the stiffness underneath his palm. Another grunt, and this time Sanzo started to tremble slightly beneath his hand almost as if he was an animal never tamed to the human touch. No wonder he hated being touched all the time. Gojyo was pretty damn sure this didn't have anything to do with the rain anymore. Amazing really, how Sanzo could feel so exquisitely soft when he was anything but. Sour, bitter, and always unpredictable as Gojyo was reminded while Sanzo grabbed the front of his shirt with two fists when he let his hand drop away from the monk.

Sanzo didn't say anything, but the pink tip of his tongue peeked out and licked two full lips, almost luscious and pouting now that he wasn't frowning. Full lashes almost completely hid those fucking stunning violet eyes, and this time the shitty monk wasn't saying anything to ruin the moment. Gojyo let the wrist go and shifted his hand up to the shoulder, cracking the joint as Sanzo's eyelids fluttered down and struggled to stay half-open. Maybe that crazy Goddess had… God- Gojyo's thoughts paused as he tried to simply forget about seeing the oversized penis underneath what had been two full and quite lovely breasts- Kanzeon Bosatsu hadn't been too far off the mark when the damn she-male had told him Sanzo had never had a good time in his life if the blonde was already shivering almost as if they were back to first night when he had almost frozen to death.

Lightning cracked across the window and this time the light bulb above their heads flickered before going out. There were a few muffled screams from the other guests through the thin walls at the blackout before thunder rolled loudly above all other noise, shaking the foundations. The silence that followed was almost supernatural, even the rain fading away into the background for Sanzo's soft, ragged gasp for air. The darkness seemed to smoother every other noise as he looked down at open and lush lips.

"Shit," Gojyo cursed softly as he looked up at the dark bulb above their heads, wondering if this was some kind of cosmic set-up. Well, he already had one Goddess that wanted him to show Sanzo a 'good time,' and it seemed like even Mother Nature was on her/his side now. But, how was he supposed to do that with a person who wouldn't know happiness if it crawled up and bit him in the ass? Gojyo was pretty sure Sanzo didn't even know the meaning of the word 'pleasure,' much less what it felt like. There was way too much fucking pressure; the darkness was almost suffocating now that he was so close to the other man, unsure if Sanzo could see him squirm

"I remember it," Sanzo finally admitted in a low voice only audible because Gojyo was so close to him right now. He knew that it wasn't visible in the darkness, but Gojyo still raised an eyebrow at the man's vague announcement. At least his night-vision was good enough to make out the droopy eyes hidden underneath a ragged line of golden bangs. Sanzo was holding himself incredibly still, violet eyes fixated beyond the Gojyo to something else, something else that he had a damn good idea of just what. He had seen the act painted in agonizing detail on a canvas…before he'd burned it. Just recalling it made his throat tighten, and Sanzo had been the one who had gone through it.

"I don't want you all to know!" Sanzo hissed out painfully before slamming his forehead against Gojyo's chest in frustration. He stared down, unable to imagine Sanzo's pain and humiliation, couldn't say anything that wouldn't sound stupid or banal right now. His arms dropped back down to his sides, useless, unable to even pat the monk reassuringly on the back. He was damn sure Sanzo wasn't the type who would docilely accept Gojyo's desire to hold the shitty monk tight and tell him that everything would be okay. Sanzo didn't care for those sorts of lies.

But, the truth was too harsh, too much for even him to get a grip on. Just what could it be like for Sanzo? Gojyo would bite his tongue off and bleed to death before he would let that happen… and he was damn sure Sanzo was the same way. But, the priest had survived, despite how much it was costing him. That much was apparent from the swelling on the side of the priest's face.

Gojyo wondered what might have happened if he had been a single fucking moment later in opening that door, just a minute delayed on the road.

"Why the hell did you have to see that?! I could have taken care of it. I can cover my own ass!" Gojyo was pretty sure that Sanzo didn't even know he was yelling right now. He was damn certain that the monk didn't know that there were tears tracing solitary paths down each cheek, catching a little light from the storm outside the window and shining like jewels. Who knew Sanzo could look heartbreakingly beautiful when he just let go and actually felt something for once?

…

Anyone would fucking know Sanzo was beautiful from one look unless it was a goddamn blind man, Gojyo ruthlessly corrected his own thoughts. It was that damn pretty face that had landed Sanzo in this whole mess, which had gotten him so badly hurt and humiliated. Those youkai had striped Sanzo of all of his precious pride, and it was just fucking wrong to appreciate the way Sanzo's exotic blonde hair that still shone dully in the darkness of the room. Gojyo shouldn't even been thinking about how it actually felt nice to be to one whom Sanzo was finally opening up to… even if it was just because they had been trapped together in the same room. Still, he was sure as all hell that Goku and Hakkai had never seen Sanzo lose control quite like this before.

"That bastard kept watching me. I can't forget those damn eyes. I'm sick of it!" Sanzo cried out in the silence of the black-out, burying his face into Gojyo's shirt. The fists in his tank-top stretched the fabric out even further and Sanzo tried to borrow against Gojyo in a tearful, drunken misery. It was like Sanzo was trying to crawl up and inside him with such violence and desperation in the monk's grip. Gojyo was damn sure that the blonde, not ever one for admitting to weaknesses, hadn't mean to say so much; but two solid eights of hard alcohol and than some were enough to break down any tired and stressed High Priest. Sanzo never made a cheery drunk anyway, much more prone to depression when he got some alcohol down.

There was a hitched breath; Gojyo feeling incredibly awkward with Sanzo actually crying on him like the monk hadn't shed a tear in years. He realized that probably wasn't too far from the mark, since Gojyo hadn't even seen Sanzo actually cry once, not even when he had been injured and there were sure as hell to be tears from the pain. Sure, Sanzo got depressed and melancholy as all hell, but the prick usually managed to still look numb and untouched on the outside. Gojyo worried at his lower lip with his teeth and his hands twitched at his sides as he wondered if he should push Sanzo away. The blonde would probably kill him later just for seeing him like this.

Maybe if Gojyo waited long enough, Sanzo would eventually calm down and they could pretend nothing had happened.

But, there was no sign of their positions changing. Sanzo was still weeping like a dam finally broken; Gojyo's shirt already soggy from the tears. It might have been out of the complete fucking blue, but he couldn't remain still much longer when Sanzo was feeling this bad. Gojyo closed his eyes, took a breath, and decided to fuck it. Regardless of if he might get killed or worse later for it, he put his arms around Sanzo's back and squeezed him reassuringly, tightly, until the monk had to take a few stumbling steps just to keep his balance. Sanzo didn't even pull his head away from Gojyo's shirt, just started howling in earnest now, muffled against his chest, with an agony no human being should have to go though.

Oh, damn it all to hell. He couldn't keep walking on eggshells around Sanzo. He had enough of tiptoeing around Sanzo's shattered pride when it had already been dragged through the mud. They had all seen what man had been subjected too in a little too much realism for Gojyo to stomach easily. Gojyo didn't care of the consequences anymore, because there was honest to god hurt inside the priest right now. How could he not be? Sanzo was a prick, through and through, but he wasn't inhuman. It had been nothing short of complete bestiality, making it hard for even him to deny that they were demons. No creature with a shred of conscious could have done what had been done to Sanzo.

Gojyo didn't feel as ridiculous as he thought he would when he gently shushed Sanzo and rocked slowly from side to side like he was soothing down a small child. It didn't even feel weird to be comforting Sanzo, now that he got his mind wrapped around the fact the usual emotionless asshole was crying. In fact, Gojyo felt tears stinging at the corner of his eyes as well just because of the sound of Sanzo choking on his own sobs. It was just like how Dokugakuji used to do for him after Mother had been murde-died. Gojyo put his chin down on the top of Sanzo's silken hair as if he could just cover and surround the man from ever being hurt again. There was no violent reaction, no sudden curse and shake-off like Gojyo had expected.

"You saw me- shoot that… that one, right?" Sanzo managed to wheeze out between the tears. "You burned it, right?"

Genjo Sanzo was questioning himself. Tonight seemed to be the first time for everything, more flying at Gojyo's face than he could keep up with. Was it really just because they were locked in the room together, or had Sanzo lost all tolerance for alcohol along with all the scars and bruises? The thin man was just shaking in his arms, breaking apart like fine china hitting the floor hard, all the confidence and arrogance gone without a trace in the dusting explosion. Gojyo couldn't blame him after everything he must have gone through, couldn't really figure out what kind of comfort he was supposed to give that wouldn't result in Sanzo shooting him later. What would Hakkai say?

"It's all over," Gojyo whispered above the quivering, blonde head. He felt a little daring now, sure that Sanzo was too preoccupied with crying to mind as he pressed his lips into hair underneath his chin. Hundreds of fine strands felt like silk underneath his mouth, better than any woman's that Gojyo had bedded before. Sanzo certainly was something different as the crying stopped, turning to a slow freeze as the man became aware of what he was doing.

"No, it's not. I still fucking see his eyes," Sanzo argued, shaking his head against Gojyo's chest, but not pulling away. At least, not yet. Gojyo was sure that it would happen as soon as Sanzo regained his senses, but for now the monk simply buried his face against the crook of Gojyo's neck in a pitiful attempt to hide his eyes from something that wasn't even in the room Imagine the look on people's faces if they learned a dead youkai were scaring the shit of High Priest Genjo Sanzo.

Gojyo clamped his teeth closed helplessly, completely out of his depth. Sanzo wasn't like any other person that he could simply hold close and comfort. Sanzo was much, much more complex than that, and not about to find peace with another person. He should just let Sanzo lick his wounds in solitude, but Gojyo couldn't very well leave Sanzo alone with these memories. Maybe they had been locked in the room for a reason, since Gojyo couldn't very well imagine Sanzo confessing this Hakkai or Goku. Damn Kanzeon Bosatsu for not intervening sooner, before Sanzo had even wound up in this shitty situation.

"Look at me," Gojyo gently ordered in the pitch blackness of the room, sure that Sanzo couldn't be able to see nearly as well as he could in the dark with his poor human eyesight, but knowing that the priest needed to look at someone real and living right now. He just hoped Sanzo didn't kill him late for offering a shoulder to lean on, because the blonde was being haunted by a youkai that had already gotten a bullet to the head. Sanzo had seen to that rather ruthlessly, but it didn't mean that he was any less frightened. High Priest Genjo Sanzo had post traumatic stress. Now Gojyo was sure he had seen everything.

Other people might have whispered behind Sanzo's back that his downward-sloping eyes were bad luck, but Gojyo couldn't thing of anything that was more expressive when the man's bowed head slowly bent upwards to meet his gaze. All sorts of emotions that Sanzo never let touch his face were stirring in half-lidded plum irises: sadness, confusion, dread, anger. A whole fucking lot of anger. But, there was honest pain too, such hurt when Gojyo had begun to doubt if the shitty monk could really feel anything at all.

"Your eyes are red," Sanzo whispered softly, as if finally noticing for the first time. There was no biting comment about Gojyo's ancestry following it either, just a cool hand on the side of his face as Sanzo stared up at him in wonder. There couldn't be words anymore as he was assaulted by the sudden sense of shrinking as Sanzo looked past Gojyo's eyes, and into his very soul. Gojyo felt worse than naked, completely bare just because Sanzo's hand wasn't letting him look away. There was no way to escape to vibrant, violet eyes that were seeing a lot more in black room than Gojyo had given credit.

In the darkness, Gojyo wasn't sure who started it first, but they were kissing each other before he even had time to think. Sanzo's lips still tasted like bitter tequila and cigarettes, which didn't surprise Gojyo much. What did surprise him was the desperation- no sort of attraction- but raw fear that had turned into aggression as Sanzo kissed him hard. Gojyo's mouth felt bruised and he liked it, letting his hand slide to the back Sanzo's neck, his fingers combing through the shockingly fine hair. Sanzo copied the move, except his hand grabbed a fistful of hair out of its ponytail and yanked Gojyo down for a better angle. He let it happen, because Sanzo's obvious need for control was more apparent than ever… in the shaking of the hand fisted in his long hair, the trembling of Sanzo's lashes as he held them tightly shut, and the sharp breath the monk sucked through his nose.

Gojyo never would have imagined that Sanzo's mouth could be so soft, miles away from the resistance Gojyo had been expecting. The kiss was good enough that Gojyo forgot that he hated Sanzo, didn't even care as the shorter monk pulled out hair. The lips parted a bit and for the first time, Gojyo got his tongue past Sanzo's teeth and into the velvety soft mouth. This was what he had been waiting for since the first time he'd met the heartbreakingly handsome monk… right before Sanzo had opened his mouth and Gojyo had discovered that High Priests could indeed curse like sailors. He pushed all sorts of conflicting thoughts out of his mind with the help of alcohol and the intoxicating taste of Sanzo's mouth. Gojyo put his hands on Sanzo's sides, gathering up some of the robe to discretely start pulling Sanzo back toward the bed, conveniently overlooking that there would be hell to pay for it later. It wasn't because Kanzeon Bosatsu had ordered him to, nor was Hakkai or Goku there to stop this little rush of madness that Gojyo found quite necessary. Sanzo was just as eager as him, even though his own tongue was pressed flat against the bottom of his mouth while Gojyo tried to deepen the kiss.

Sanzo's hands on Gojyo's shoulders turned into fists buried in his shirt as the priest's knees hit the back of bed, dragging him down along with the blonde. They hit the bed together, hard enough to jolt Gojyo into awareness as Sanzo tugged at his shirt; already had the tank top up over his head and tossed somewhere to the floor. Gojyo hadn't forgotten what he had seen, and by all means was going to be damn sure that Sanzo wanted this at the priest's insistent tugging before Gojyo realized there were a set of unfamiliar and very cold hands on the fly to his pants.

Desperate and drunk actions, nothing thought out in the slightest.

"Hey, just… wait a damn second!" Gojyo managed to regain enough sense to yell out as he grabbed Sanzo's shoulders and tried to pull the monk away from his crotch. He wasn't going to just go along with Sanzo's oh-so-sudden willingness to get laid after Kanzeon Bosatsu had ordered them to do it. Gojyo wasn't going to jump around at anyone's orders, no matter what. This was probably some trick of the Goddess's, right down to the strange blackout and the fucking tornado happening outside.

"Why?! You have se- make… love… to everyone in every damn town we ever go through," Sanzo snapped, a slight blush gracing his cheeks as veered away from saying 'sex' around him…just the same as he. Gojyo couldn't help a bit of a grin that snuck up at the edges of his mouth, realizing that he had a little more in common with the shitty monk then he first had thought. He slowly started to move off the priest, feeling like quite the asshole right now, but he was stuck in this room with one that was twice as worse as him. Sanzo could still wind up out of his depth and stutter over dirty words just like anyone else, though Gojyo had always assumed that Sanzo was a master of foul language. He could get unnerved, just like the rest of them.

They both sat up on the edge of the mattress at the same time, awkward and silent after that outburst. Gojyo planted his own feet on the floor, Sanzo's legs not quite touching the ground as his toes swung lazily back and forth above the floor, just like a kid. He really was in some places, from that stuck-up, pompous attitude to his incredible lack of human sympathy. Gojyo sighed and wiped his mouth his palm, desperately trying to forget the pressure of Sanzo's lips and the downright fucking erotic way the shitty priest clenched his eyes closed. He let his hands drop down to hand between his legs, his zipper undone but his pants still somewhat on his hips, while Sanzo didn't even so much as glance in his general fucking direction.

"What's it like?" Sanzo asked quietly enough that Gojyo almost didn't hear it, even with his sensitive ears. He turned to catch the monk's profile as Sanzo stared down at his lap, confusion in his usually determined eyes. Why couldn't the bastard ask an easy question right now? Sanzo always managed to drop a bomb on his head time and time again as he looked up for Gojyo's answer. He jerked his gaze away as if he'd been caught in the middle of peeking, no longer sure how far that was from the case. Sanzo was baring his soul, desperate for an answer that Gojyo didn't know if figure out in several sentences or less.

"All I've got is… that," the blonde spat out bitterly when Gojyo took to long to respond, his legs going still and his shoulders hunching over. Gojyo was pretty damn sure that he wasn't look at anything in the room right now. Kanzeon Bosatsu had been right when she told him that the shitty High Priest hadn't ever had sex before those youkai- shit, probably never even been kissed with that sour mouth. What was he supposed to say Sanzo now? It was already hard enough trying to treat him like nothing had happened; because comfort would insult Sanzo even worse than what had caused the injuries. He worried at his bottom lip for a moment, knowing that somewhere deep down Sanzo was human after all. Memories could really be a bitch, and Gojyo could tell by the bead of sweat going down the side of Sanzo's face that these were particular bad ones.

He put a hand on Sanzo's shoulder, offering companionship, or at least the comfort of another human being when he could see that the man needed it particularly badly right now. There was a disapproving grunt as Sanzo looked resolutely at the corner in an obvious attempt to ignore him, the rain outside the window, that goddamn painting, the fact the thin son of a bitch was really hurting...in short, everything. Gojyo was half-surprised when the priest didn't immediately jerk away at the touch, taking that as a sign to try and push things a little further

Knowing just how tense Sanzo was underneath it all, Gojyo squeezed the bony shoulder again and felt everything rotate underneath his fingers, joints and hard spots of tension cracking loudly. He had yet to run across a person that could resist a good massage, and he doubted that Sanzo ever let anyone do this before. he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the storm, or somehow Kanzeon Bosatsu's doing…but, either way, it was a fine opportunity that he wasn't going to pass up. Gojyo was a lot fucking smarter than that, and knew very well from experience that Sanzo would never be so willing again. Hell, Gojyo didn't think he would ever see Sanzo cry again, not after tonight. The bastard had too much pride for that.

There was a noise that was close to a purr of contentment, but in the darkness Gojyo didn't know if it was Sanzo or just the creaking walls of this shit hole. He worked his fingers into tight muscles that had obviously never been touched before, and only after a few more seconds of the treatment Sanzo started going limp and relaxed helplessly. The priest was surprisingly sensitive through the robe, flesh twitching and jerking underneath Gojyo's hands, though he was still keeping the pressure light. All the frigid, cold aloofness was gone without a trace as the blonde actually groaned in pleasure when Gojyo's thumb dug into a spot underneath the shoulder bone. Even High Priest Genjo Sanzo couldn't withstand a good massage in complete silence.

It might have been because Gojyo worked his thumbs into knotted spine, but Sanzo didn't so much as bat an eye when he put his lips against the milky-white curve of the monk's neck. His skin was soft and smooth, so pliant when Gojyo pressed harder and grazed the bottom of his teeth against the blonde's collarbone, not sure if he dared to leave a mark. Sanzo moaned heavily again at the ministrations, absolutely delicious as he squirmed against Gojyo's hands to guide them to areas that were sorer than others. Sanzo proved to be just as demanding and eager for more, so Gojyo didn't feel guilty as he started to suck hard enough to leave a welt for tomorrow morning…just a little bit of proof that this wasn't some liquor-induced fantasy.

He pulled Sanzo up against his back, the scrawny body amazing limp and complying as Gojyo let one of his hands slip down from Sanzo's shoulder to the front of the man's chest. He pushed past the sagging opening of the robe and brushed fingers up against a nipple that was already puckered and hard from the cold…or Gojyo's touch. Sanzo twisted his head around at that, his mouth open for some kind of insult, but he cut off whatever it might be with a kiss pressed against the other man's. Sanzo shuddered like an animal being tamed to human touch, his teeth clenched hard behind his lips despite his earlier words.

Gojyo kept working at it, thumbing the pert nipple, sucking on Sanzo's lower hip, until the jaw finally relaxed and Sanzo even started kissing back himself, tentative as all hell but definite in his movement. Gojyo let his tongue brush against Sanzo's lips, damn sure that he shouldn't try anything bolder until the blonde was comfortable. A cold hand touched his side as Sanzo reached back, a thumb hooked in the waistline of Gojyo's jeans as he tried to find something to hold on to. Gojyo wondered if he was going to fast, belatedly recalling that it was probably Sanzo's first time, at least as a willing member.

Sanzo suddenly pushed past Gojyo's tongue with his own, starting to explore the roof of his mouth much more aggressively than Gojyo would have assumed…but, then again, how could he have thought any fucking differently? He was dealing with Sanzo, who was back to tugging at Gojyo's pants in an unspoken, but clear demand to speed things up. The massage was forgotten as Sanzo forced things to go in the exact opposite direction of what he had been expecting, far from it. Sanzo wanted this to hurry up and out of Gojyo's control until the act consumed him, to forget the reality of what had happened before he could lose his nerve.

Desperation made Sanzo more attractive than ever. Gojyo could most certainly accommodate the shitty monk, letting Sanzo have full range of his mouth while his other hand crept up and grabbed the edge of Sanzo's loose robe. He began to tug the offending cloth off, wanting to see Sanzo naked in such a way that made his loins ache, and was ready to start working on more than just the uncovered shoulder before Sanzo suddenly jerked his face away from Gojyo and grabbed at his busy hands with bruising strength.

"Can't I- keep it?" Sanzo asked in a paper-thin voice, the blush practically glowing in the darkness to Gojyo's sensitive eyes. He wasn't sure if his eyebrows were still attached for how they shot up at the small question, never for once even considering that Sanzo's sensibilities might be offended by showing off a bit of skin. Absolutely fucking amazing how the priest could still be modest when he wore that black, skin-tight, sexy get-up like a second skin. He couldn't blame Sanzo for acting this way after everything he'd been through, but it was a damn selfish move on his part. That certainly put a damper on his plan to see the full glory of that pale body writhing underneath him when he took Sanzo. Gojyo sighed as he backed off with the mood effectively ruined, pulling his wrists out of Sanzo's grasp slowly.

"Yeah, fine," Gojyo grumbled, closing his eyes to hold in the frustration as he had to sit up on the bed. Why was he so upset about not being bale to get Sanzo naked when only a few hours ago he would have probably laughed out loud if someone had told him he was going to have sex with Sanzo? Someone else beyond Kanzeon Bosatsu, that was. She was probably watching them right now to make sure that he followed through with her orders. Fuck, he hated Sanzo so much just because the priest had denied, rejected, declined, and returned every drunken pass with a severity that wasn't really called for…but, that was all a part of the chase. He'd prefer to get into Sanzo's bed on his own damn terms, thank you very fucking much.

A silky-smooth hand brushed Gojyo's past the curve of his jaw as Sanzo reached over to let loose the earlier mess he'd made of Gojyo's ponytail. The familiar weight of his own hair hit his bare shoulders as Sanzo combed his fingers though a few random red strands. No comments about being a 'youkai bastard,' 'taboo,' or 'half-demon,' just a hint of pain in otherwise emotionless eyes as Sanzo studied the long hair he was playing with. Gojyo was far from understanding it, but he indulged Sanzo's craziness while the monk slowly leaned in closer to him, as if his hair was the most stunning thing he'd come across in years.

Gojyo wasn't about to be fooled by that bullshit. Sanzo was using it all as an excuse to come closer and hesitantly press his lips against the side of Gojyo's Adam's apple. Gojyo thought he might really be in heaven as the marvelously soft mouth opened up around his shoulder…and bit down hard. Gojyo winced and had to clench his jaw shut to keep from grunting with the mixture of pain and shock. He had been expecting a lot worse from the monk, certain that Sanzo would be aggressive. It was just in his nature. Gojyo wondered if he should feel lucky that he had merely gotten a stinging bite mark instead of a bullet.

That still didn't mean that Gojyo was ready to take such treatment passively, rape victim or not. He let his hands slide down Sanzo's sides while the priest pressed a few, butterfly-soft kisses against Gojyo's shoulder, lapping at the blood that was starting to well up. Blood was a turn on for the priest. It figured. The pain was a small price to pay for a distraction as he finally got his hands on top of Sanzo's legs, pausing for a moment as he fisted up the fabric of the bloody pajamas. The shitty monk had enough time for an affronted gasp before he was left with only the robe and the pants catching over his knees, probably wishing that he had gotten a pair of underwear earlier.

Gojyo pushed Sanzo back on the bed with his weight alone, leaning in until the monk fell flat on the sheets. He used the momentary lack of balance to finish pulling the pajamas all the way off the monk's thin, bony ankles. He tossed them far away from Sanzo and to the other side of the room, turning back to climb on the mattress with one knee between slender long legs so white that they practically shined in the relative pitch-blackness of the room before Gojyo actually took a good look at man. Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating the room in a bright blue in such miraculously good timing that Gojyo frowned, sure that Kanzeon Bosatsu was watching them right mow.

Oh, shit…

Even the creepy fact that a Goddess was likely peeping on them was forgotten as the split-second flash of Sanzo in bright detail burned onto his memory. Sanzo's head was twisted against the sheets, a profile that was much more vulnerable and humiliated than Gojyo would ever think that Sanzo was capable of feeling. His hands were in loose, curled balls by his shoulders, his legs spread slightly on either side of Gojyo's.
He couldn't ever recall another time when he had seen anything more fucking beautiful than Sanzo laying there in undulated embarrassment, the lower folds of his robes riding up to reveal a blushing half-erection trying to peek out from underneath. It was even better than getting the monk to crack his oh-so-rare smile.

How was he supposed to resist something that was so gut-wrenching beautiful, whether it was male or not? Sanzo looked better than any other woman at the moment, violet eyes clouding over in mortification at his own arousal as tried to not make eye-contact with Gojyo. It wouldn't do to have his little monk already having second thoughts, so Gojyo was quick to work on making the man think about nothing else but what he was feeling. Wasn't that what Sanzo wanted?

He leaned Sanzo's own smaller, pale body and started pressing his own lips against the small 'v' of chest shown by the loosening robe. Sanzo put one hand into Gojyo's hair again, but the grip hurt too much for it to be a lover's caress. He glanced up to see Sanzo's face twisted up in a distant kind of horror, and Gojyo could tell that Sanzo was clearly struggling just to stay lying down. His body was completely tense again, as if he was expected violence at any moment.

"Hey, it's supposed to feel good," Gojyo whispered softly, because anything louder seemed like it would scare Sanzo off completely. He could hear Sanzo grinding his teeth together even over the howling wind and rain outside the window, the fear and apprehension forgotten in favor of anger. Time to bite the bullet that the priest would put in his skull if he was wrong about this; but, Gojyo certainly hoped that it was Sanzo's choice and not his judgment being affected by Kanzeon Bosatsu. Gojyo might be drunk, but he wasn't about to be stupid. It would take a few more drinks before then. Still, it was too late to back out and besides, damn if he was going to waste such a good opportunity!

"Fuck you!" Sanzo snapped back, pissed at the accusation that he was frightened. Gojyo stared back at violet eyes that were now wide with annoyance, but at least they were actually focusing on him and not on some distant memory.

"Is that how you want to do it?" Gojyo asked with a grin, doing his best to piss Sanzo off.

"Wha-?" Sanzo's look of complete confusion was priceless, in no state to make a decision right now, already off-balance from the situation and whatever else the monk might be feeling right now. Then, Sanzo finally realized his words, rolled his eyes to the floor in acute embarrassment, and the faintest touch of pink showed on his cheeks. Gojyo decided it would be best to end the conversation now, so he covered Sanzo's mouth with his own again, wanting to taste that unique bitter sweetness again. The blonde kissed back after a moment's hesitation, desperately trying to grab a hold of events, but being washed away nonetheless. Gojyo liked to think he had that effect on people.

Trying to make it as natural as possible for Sanzo's sake, he reached down between them and put his hands on the priest's cock for the first time. He was rewarded with a jump that almost sent the blonde out of his hands and halfway across the room, but thankfully his head hit the wall and could no longer go back any further. Gojyo followed just as quickly, squeezing gently while Sanzo put his hands on Gojyo's shoulders and shook his head. Not exactly coherent, and probably more than a little bit drunk, but Gojyo could swear that Sanzo actually looked like he was enjoying something for the first time. He knew he would feel the same if someone was going to give him his first hand job.

He ran his thumb down the underside of Sanzo's erection gently, in a manner that he hoped would be reassuring for the scared, modest priest. It was a little slice of heaven to hear the monk choke on his own breath and twist around on the sheets for a moment as his body reacted before the mind. He squeezed Sanzo's penis, drawing up a glistening bit of pre-cum on the head while the body underneath him was rigid as the organ in his hand…probably completely against Sanzo's will from the look of outright suffering on his face, but, it was strangely gratifying to see the blonde look so out of place, not even which sure direction he should try to struggle away in.

Gojyo let his mouth roam down to Sanzo's throat, the open expanse of his pale chest before the robe restricted any further exploration, all the way down until he hovered over open groin and weeping erection. Gojyo had been given- and gave- enough blowjobs to not be uncomfortable, but something about the glaring death at him made Gojyo think twice. But, Sanzo was making tight fists in the sheets, his sudden stillness a challenge in itself now that Gojyo was so close to a rather vulnerable and sensitive area. Sanzo wasn't about to back out of things now, that much was for sure from the stubborn look in his eyes and the set line of his mouth; despite the trembling in his knees.

Gojyo was damn sure nobody had done was he was about to do before, not in the way it should have been done. Pity that Sanzo had to be such a prude or he could have gotten around to this a whole lot earlier, before the priest ever had a reason to be so damn apprehensive. If only he had taken advantage of the scrawny bitch being completely trashed last month, when Sanzo wouldn't have even recognized his own feet, much less Gojyo trying to do the same thing he was doing now. At least it was finally happening, and for the first time Gojyo got to put his mouth over the tip of Sanzo's cock, tasting velvety skin, slightly musky, but outright divine.

"Nhhh…sto-," Sanzo's voice trembled as he tried to get out a sensible sentence before failing with a breathy, shuddering gasp. To see Sanzo in such a lack of control was worth any price he'd have pay later, more of a turn on than the little bit of skin showing over the folds of the robe. Damn it all to hell. Gojyo wasn't about to listen to common sense or Sanzo right now, just concentrated on sucking as best he knew. Slowly, he loosened up his jaw, ignoring the urge to gag long enough to take Sanzo in all the way, until Gojyo buried his nose into the tightly curled, golden hair at the base.

It wasn't much longer before the shitty priest was outright begging him…if Sanzo had been able to speak that clearly. The blonde was practically mewling at it all, arching his back and curling his toes up in the sheets, jerking his legs around in the most fantastic of ways. Sanzo bucked around with a sudden vigor when he had been so docile only seconds ago, and Gojyo had to put his forearm over the man's hips to keep himself from being choked. He started sucking like his life depended on it; his own long hair pooling around Sanzo's thighs as Gojyo let his mouth move up and down along the monk's whole length.

The monk cried out at that, not in any sort of coherency now as his head thrashed back and forth on the pillows. Even two steps away from an orgasm, Genjo Sanzo was doing his best to not lose control. Gojyo smiled at the surprising receptiveness; his thin, little priest overwhelmed by sensation, lips parted slightly as Sanzo struggled to keep his breathing even. Gojyo used the lightest bit of teeth to scrape the tender skin as he slowly drew his head back and let Sanzo drop out of his mouth. A wet and inflamed cocked bounced around balefully at the sudden lack of treatment before a hand slapped down against the side of his head, grabbing up hair as Sanzo forced Gojyo to keep his face close to his groin.

"Don't…fucking…stop," Sanzo panted out huskily, eyes half-closed with lust and a good amount of embarrassment. Gojyo could guess what it was taking for the monk just to get say something so borderline to an actual request. Sanzo didn't say 'please,' much less ask for sexual favors. Still, leave it to a High Priest to make Gojyo so horny that the pressure between his legs was actually starting to hurt with only one sentence. Did the monk even know what he was able to do an ordinary man?

Doing his best to try and not rip anything, Gojyo hooked his thumbs around the waist of his jeans and wrestled himself out of them with an urgency he hadn't felt in years. He struggled out of the restricting pants and kicked them off to the floor despite Sanzo's tugging on his head. He didn't need the priest to tell him to hurry up, already rushed just to get back to the half-covered, thin body before him. The mere feeling of his bare legs against Sanzo's own was almost enough to send him over the edge, but there was still so much to do, so much skin that he had left unkissed and untouched.

Gojyo leaned down over Sanzo, his legs spread open wantonly and a flush on his face that had nothing to do with the usual irritation, but everything to do with uncontrolled passion. The fist in his hair tightened when Gojyo went to put his hand around the weeping erection, still unsure despite the bravado…or, it was because Sanzo was so close to the edge that Gojyo only needed to brush his fingers against the red, engorged balls to have the monk spurt all over his lower stomach. Gojyo raised an eyebrow at that, idly wondering if Sanzo had even tried to masturbate before, while the blonde merely made a choking noise somewhere between a sob and what might have been a cry of pleasure. He really couldn't tell between the expressions of outright humiliation and euphoria waging for dominance on that usually emotionless face.

Well, Gojyo wasn't about to let things end so quickly while Sanzo started to go limp on the bed, thinking that he could just pass out and pretend this night had never happened. Gojyo wasn't about to let him feel bad right in the middle of this, before they even got to the best part. Regret was already in Sanzo's slanted eyes as the blonde did his best to surrender to unconsciousness, so Gojyo quickly moved in to take the monk's mind off whatever penitent thoughts he was thinking. Sanzo wasn't such a willing kisser after that, his lips hardening up while his tongue pressed flat against the bottom of his mouth as far away from Gojyo's play as possible. He didn't pay it any mind, figuring it was due to Sanzo already ejaculating and considering the act signed and sealed. Sex was a two-way road, a fact that Gojyo would soon have to educate High Priest Genjo Sanzo on.

Gojyo shifted a bit, hooking his elbow underneath Sanzo's knee while he leaned forward over the monk's further loosening robe. He moved his mouth away from the blonde's unresponsive mouth, giving up on that orifice to suck on Sanzo's soft lower earlobe. The shitty monk moaned at that, trying to get out something that would make sense in the middle of this mess. Gojyo smiled at the unexpected responsiveness, Sanzo coming back to life to twitch when he used his free hand to swipe up the mess Sanzo had made of his lower stomach, the impressive load of sperm having missed the robe by miracle alone.

He rubbed his fingers together to coat the digits with the makeshift lubricant, sure as hell having not expected this situation to come prepared with anything else. But for fuck's sake, he could use Sanzo's premature actions to his advantage, not about to let things turn sour. This was too much like dreams he had before, everything going so well despite the hesitation and early ending on Sanzo's part. So, of course, it was when he put a sticky finger into that sweet, tightly clenched opening that things turned soured.

Sanzo came alive with one well-aimed knee to the gut before he started struggling senselessly under Gojyo like a cat thrown in water, his legs kicking out with enough force to bruise and smart painfully. The monk was screaming out unintelligibly, not even getting a full curse out, but still managed to make himself clear enough either way. 'Back the fuck off' was written all over the fist that struck the side of Gojyo's temple, throwing him off as Sanzo scrambled up on the bed until his back slammed up against the headboard, unable to go any further. His feet dug into the mattress, still trying to move away in pure, blind panic while his breath came in fast, shallow pants.

Gojyo was stunned into silence, a little bit from the pain and drinks, but mostly because he'd never seen Sanzo like this before. He might be feeling like he got the worse end of a bar fight, but what was that when the shoulder of Sanzo's robe slid down to reveal the curve of a pale neck and arm? Unfortunately, his High Prudeness noticed as well and grabbed at the sagging cloth to yank it back into place high around throat with one white-knuckled fist, his hair shadowing his eyes once again as he looked down at the tangled sheets below them. Gojyo had simply done something wrong, because the monk was freaking out about something that had happened only a few nights ago. The blonde ran a hand that was shaking just as badly as the rest of him through his hair, licking his lips as he swallowed and struggled for control over trembling limbs. Either way, it wasn't a position Gojyo had never though he would see Genjo Sanzo in: shoulders hunched over, scared shitless and silent in a way that was much more disturbing than usual.

"Hey…are you okay?" Gojyo asked in the poignant hush as he pulled a leg up on the mattress to hide his own erection from Sanzo's shadowed gaze even in the inky blackness of the room. Gojyo winced, trying his very best to remain calm and think about something else, but he couldn't very sit still with the more and more insistent ache at his groin. This wasn't the Sanzo Gojyo had imagined the few times he'd been drunk enough to entertain such a fantasy. It was damn hard to think of anything else to do with Sanzo but grab him and go for it despite the panic; sure that he could wrestle the thin man down easily. So fucking close, and yet denied again at the last minute.

The shitty monk was a lucky son of a bitch that Gojyo was such a gentleman and chose to stay still until Sanzo calmed down. There wasn't an answer to his question, but Gojyo didn't know if it was because he had insulted the man, or if Sanzo didn't trust himself to speak right now. It didn't look good, whatever the reason may be. Sanzo roped an arm around his legs and drew his knees up to his chin, trying to hold himself together…or to protect himself from Gojyo. He had perfect reason to with the thoughts running rampant through his head. What a fine fucking sense of self-control he had.

Fuck! Gojyo shook his head, trying to get rid of the suspicion and doubt. He might have been around a few more times than the next guy, but he had never once forced anyone to do a single damn thing they didn't want to, Goddess of Mercy or not. He wasn't about to change that, especially with Sanzo. Something about the monk was still incredible innocent and fragile despite the ultra-hard casing the blonde had developed. There was an open wound inside Sanzo, very old and easily hurt, but never once had the monk elaborated on his past or what had happened before they had started west.

"I can't… not like that, not that way," Sanzo muttered in a paper-thin voice, vague as all hell and not about to divulge any further. Gojyo hadn't had this hard of time with a lover since he'd first begun fumbling around with the other sex. He started to wonder if this would even worth all the fucking trouble, the hastily conducted foreplay falling apart before he even had a chance. His face hurt like hell from that lucky punch, and Sanzo was doing his best to get as far away from Gojyo as possible. This wasn't the most romantic scene he had run across by far, but he still couldn't stifle the desire to fuck Sanzo into the mattress. He was already covered in bruises and they had barely gotten to the best part. He had expected to have some trouble with Sanzo, but this was ridiculous.

If Gojyo hadn't of wanted it so bad, he would have tried going out the window instead of sighing and doing his best to not reach down and touch himself out of frustration. He'd much rather that Sanzo do it…but, Gojyo hadn't even been able to get the monk of out his robes yet. He made tight, useless fists, thinking that death Goku had served up wasn't good enough for the youkai that had instilled this outright fear in Sanzo. Gods, he wished that he had torn every little piece of that painting into fine dust before he had burned it, even if it was in ashes now.

"Isn't there another way?" Sanzo mumbled underneath the drum of the rain on the roof, still determined to go through with it after all like the obstinate bastard he was. Gojyo could have kissed the monk for being so stubborn as usual. In fact, he did, crawling across the sheets to start locking lips yet again even though Sanzo's head slammed back against the wall. The monk made a muffled noise that might have been another protest, but Gojyo didn't care as he ravished the mouth with all the skill he had earned in the past years of fucking anonymous after anonymous.

One shaky, cold hand snaked around his neck, thin fingers clammy against Gojyo's own heated skin. Sanzo's mouth wasn't really working, but the intent still there as he tried to keep Gojyo close to his face with the death grip wrapped around the back of his head. Sanzo wanted something else to cover up the horror of what had happened, and it just so happened the Goddess of Mercy had ordered Gojyo to do so as well. He could just think of it as an opportunity, because Gojyo was damn sure there was no other way he'd get lucky enough for Sanzo to be so close at hand. The circumstances could be fucked, because he was about to get to have Sanzo all to himself.

He had to slowly pull away, though it was more because of the hand tightly gripped around his neck that was desperately trying to keep them at merely kissing. He got Sanzo to let go after a bit of tug-o-war, and used that to maneuver the blonde around with his hands, sure that the blonde wouldn't appreciate a spoken order right now. He gently tugged on the monk's hips, getting him to turn slowly in confusion on the sheets. There was no rushing Sanzo right now, and Gojyo was sure he'd go along with whatever just to make up for losing that little bit of face earlier by freaking out completely when Gojyo had taken them beyond heavy petting.

Sanzo finally settled on his knees with his back facing Gojyo, hands clenched in front of his chest awkwardly. Gojyo squeezed Sanzo's shoulder once in comfort before he put an arm around Sanzo's thin waist to drag the smaller man back on the mattress. Sanzo endured it in silence, if Gojyo discounted how the blonde was grinding his teeth together loudly. Sanzo was getting stubborn about going though with this, and it worked out in Gojyo's favor for once as he got the shitty monk to back away from the wall.

He grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and threw it down before Sanzo. Using his weight and little bit of clever maneuvering, he managed to get them down on the bed with the pillow underneath the man's hips, both face-first as he sandwiched the monk between himself and the bed. Sanzo grunted before it almost-just almost- turned into a surprised yelp when Gojyo flipped the bottom of the robe up over the man's back. Barely anything more than muscle and bone, no padding at all to appreciate like a woman, but Gojyo could find aesthetic pleasure in the jutting-out hips and pale ass sticking out slightly in the air.

Sanzo was suspiciously quiet even though he was half-naked, making Gojyo hesitate at the lack of reaction. But, Sanzo was merely staring forward at the headstand of the bed like he was trying to melt it down; not at all the kind of expression one should expect their partner to have just before they started making love. Gojyo decided it was better to keep his mouth shut, as he gently put messy hands down on the sharp slopes of Sanzo's ass. The priest made tight fists in the sheets as he turned his face against the mattress as if he was expecting the beating of his life, muscles shaking underneath Gojyo's fingers.

"It's not going to hurt. I won't hurt you," Gojyo insisted, wondering how there could still be doubt after how many years they had traveled together. He might have told the monk to 'fuck off' and 'rot in hell' a little more than necessary, but he had continued to back Sanzo up in every fight and tight spot they had fallen in despite the blonde's complete lack of gratitude every single time. He had even offered an ear when Sanzo got into his sullen and dark, drunken moods and had driven off Hakkai and Goku off long before…but everything else beyond that was sneered at and rejected harshly. Now, Gojyo actually had a chance to do what he'd wanted to the very first time he'd ever laid eyes on the pretty, little blonde-before Sanzo had opened his mouth.

"Yes, it will," Sanzo answered back with a voice muffled by the sheets, digging his head into the stuffing underneath his face. Gojyo could tell from the rigid bumps of Sanzo's spine, the shoulders bunching tightly while the priest looked like he was doing his best just to relax, that he was definitely regretting allowing himself to be turned onto his stomach. He was dreading what was coming next even though they had gotten this far. Gojyo sighed, knowing that there would be no changing the monk's mind by simple debate alone. He put his fingers on the two, small globes of Sanzo's ass and pried apart pale flesh that was starting to tremble badly again.

Lightning struck outside the window, but Sanzo didn't even see it with his head shoved into the bed like he was trying to burrow away underneath the sheets. Gojyo put his mouth against the puckered, pink skin of Sanzo's entrance, and slowly pressed his tongue into the tight ring of muscle. Thunder rolled and Sanzo jerked at the clamor, shoving back into Gojyo's face unintentionally. It was practically heaven. Sanzo smelled clean, but there was a faint linger of cigarettes and gunpowder that even Kanzeon Bosatsu hadn't been able to get rid of. Gojyo let his tongue slide around; wanting to make sure he took every precaution in getting Sanzo ready. He was certain that Sanzo would be ridiculously tight…and the image of the inside of Sanzo's thighs caked with blood, still sprawled out in a state of such obvious misuse when they had first rescued the monk, haunted Gojyo every time he closed his eyes.

"No-o…oh," Sanzo shook his head, turning his face up to try and tell Gojyo to 'stop,' but trailing off into a moan as his profile turned up. A light flush on Sanzo's cheeks and the death-grip he had on a pillow were enough to tell Gojyo that he was doing something very right. Gojyo still had his hands free as well; reaching down to Sanzo's hip to the semi-hard erection coming back to life. Sanzo grunted and writhed against the intrusion and expert handling as Gojyo let his palm slide up the underside of the monk's cock. In only a few seconds, Gojyo was sure that complaining was the last thing on Sanzo's mind right now as the thinner man started to pant and push back against his mouth.

It was as much of an 'okay' as he could hope fore. Gojyo tried again to press a finger covered in Sanzo's own cooling cum into the wet anus instead of a tongue, and this time Sanzo didn't even flinch. The blonde didn't say anything, but it could be because he had turned his face back against the mattress. If Sanzo didn't like it, it was already too late as Gojyo used a second finger to work the monk open further. Muscle wasn't as tight and restricting as it had been before, but Sanzo's body was still twitching around on the bed nervously. Gojyo doubted the monk even knew he was doing it, but he couldn't wait for Sanzo to calm down. That could take years, and even Gojyo didn't have that much patience left, quite ready to drill the monk into tomorrow.

He spat into his palm before reaching down and circled it around his own cock, giving a few good strokes before he pressed the leaking tip against Sanzo's rear. He guided himself into Sanzo's opening, still tense and unwilling despite his previous attention, but stretched enough to fit him easily…at first. Spit and semen helped ease the way as Gojyo started pushing forward, slowly, further into an astonishingly intense and constrictive heat when Sanzo was so cold and hard on the outside. It felt like a vise was snapped around his dick, and for a moment had to simply rest there and let the monk adjust unless he wanted the man to bleed.

"It… hurts, you asshole," Sanzo growled out, his fists tightly buried in the sheets and his toes curling up on the bed in an attempt to find some purchase. Never mind that part about 'pleasure,' because it was clear the monk still didn't believe him about sex not having to be full of harm and humiliation Gojyo started kissing the back of Sanzo's neck in apology, knowing that the discomfort would fade in a while- if Sanzo would just let him get all the way into the hilt. Sanzo moaned and twisted deliciously around him in an attempt to get away, unwittingly allowing Gojyo to finally fit the rest of the way in.

A half-gasp, half-cry of pleasure escaped Sanzo's lips, his whole body shuddering, as Gojyo grabbed the thin man's hips in order to keep the monk there while he tried to jump forward. Gojyo waited over the monk's flailing and whimpering body for everything to adjust, sure that he had hit the right spot from the weak sounds coming from between the monk's lips. Gojyo moved his kisses down the side of Sanzo's neck and shoulder, working the priest's cock into a second arousal in half-apology, half-distraction. He was impressed with the sweet, blessed warmth wrapped around his erection for the priest being a complete bastard, very nearly on the verge despite himself.

"Sanzo," Gojyo groaned out, not about to waste any sentimentalism like the usual 'I love you' or 'you're beautiful' he'd spew out for the usual one-night fuck. Sanzo was more than that, didn't care for pretty words, just reaching out for common human comfort that he had been denied his whole life in a frantic effort to displace the horror of whatever had happened back at that youkai-infested mansion. He wanted to comply, drawn into this game more by Sanzo's own irresistible beautiful and confident allure that had nothing to do with the setup that Kanzeon Bosatsu and Hakkai had no doubt gone to great lengths to arrange. Why not end up successful, if it could help Sanzo recover in the end?

Gojyo pulled out slowly, just enough for only the head of his penis was still inside the pulsating ring of muscle, before he thrust back into the welcoming warmth. He repeated it, going in deeper and faster each time as Sanzo no longer cursed, or managed to make a whole sentence. The priest couldn't even push his face into the bed anymore, his face turned and mouth open as he helplessly gasped for air around grunts forced out by Gojyo's thrusts. The soft skin stiffening underneath his hand as Sanzo pushed back on his own hypersensitive member was incredible, the awareness of Sanzo's sweating and struggling thin mass enough to make him start to lose control.

Gojyo almost came himself when Sanzo's body clamped around him like a vise before the monk cried out full heartedly, orgasming for a second time. He managed to hang on though; certain he had found the right angle now while Sanzo cried out with every thrust. Gojyo kept pounding in, faster now to a tempo he was more comfortable with, all the way up to his pubes and back out again, flesh meeting flesh in the most fantastic of ways.

Grey fog in his eyes.

Ringing in his ears.

Blinding whiteness as Gojyo ejaculated deep inside Sanzo, collapsing on top of the smaller man as he merely tried to regain his breath in the aftermath of a damn powerful orgasm. Their legs stuck together with sweat, Sanzo's robe soaking through the back and dampening Gojyo's chest. Thunder rolled again, further away from the inn now, but this time Sanzo didn't so much as move a finger. Gojyo wondered at that lack of movement, slowly backing out of the priest's anus with a flaccid dick fully coated in sperm. A good bit of it dribbled out and down Sanzo's left thigh now that Gojyo wasn't corking up the monk's ass, and he winced, sure as all hell he was going to get a good curse-out for it…and it would be worth it. He hadn't felt this sated in a long time, so content just to lay there next to the man, now that he wasn't bitching or snapping out insults.

Surprisingly enough, Sanzo felt good to cuddle with he tried to recover; the High Priest Genjo Sanzo passed out on his stomach with legs spread on either side of Gojyo's legs. He put a hand to Sanzo's shoulder, gently urging him to roll over with all intent to give the man an apology kiss, sure that the tough, blonde bastard hadn't fallen asleep yet. There was no response, Sanzo likely too embarrassed to even look at Gojyo right now, so he pulled until he finally flipped Sanzo over to his back.

The monk was unconscious, the sash at his waist nearly undone with their activities, his lower stomach coated with his own essence. There were a few fresh tears on the man's face, but he was otherwise out for the count, Sanzo's body flopping around uselessly as Gojyo pulled out the pillow that had been underneath his hips. It was soaked with goblets of white sperm, hundreds of little High Priests ruining the case. Gojyo tossed it aside before combing a hand through his hair with a glance back at the passed-out Sanzo.

Damn the man for leaving him to clean up.

* * *

Of course, the power went out halfway through his shower. However, Hakkai couldn't even care as he scrubbed off the last of the sweat, ash, and blood from the day. It didn't affect the water pressure or the temperature, so he had continued until he finally felt clean again. He stepped out, dried himself off, and then sighed with relief as he shrugged into his old shirt, finally cleaned and repaired. He put his spectacle in place over the scars of his mutilated eye, brushed wet hair into place, and tried to smile into the mirror. He had to be happy, since everyone else was in such misery. He just had to ignore the rain and forget about Goku and Sanzo both being unconscious.

How could things have turned into a mess so easily? He had only meant to bring Sanzo back to that mansion so the man could let loose that frustration that had been eating away at the man, and he had ended up almost allowing Goku to kill Sanzo. At least Gojyo had burned the place down before they left. There was nothing to return to now, all signs of that horrid night gone as if I had only been a very bad dream. Except, Hakkai knew better. Everything was turning out so awful that it had to be real life. He sighed, thumbing his earrings in a nervous habit. Just what had he done, to let things get so out of control that Kanzeon Bosatsu had to come down from Heaven?

That reminded him that Gojyo was still watching Sanzo in the room next door, and even though he was pretty sure that the two still hated each other, he could never be sure about what could happen. This afternoon had showed him as much. Hakkai left the bathroom and checked once on Goku, who was still sleeping with a wide-open smile on his face, Hakuryuu sleeping on the pillow next to him. He was even drooling, so Hakkai figured he didn't have much reason to worry about the boy. He was so resilient it was almost disgusting.

Hakkai walked out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him even though Goku probably wouldn't wake up if the whole place was to fall down. It was merely habit as he eased out of the room silently, and came face to face with Kanzeon Bosatsu for the second time that day. He cold barely make her out in the darkness but was sure this time she was fully clothed as Kanzeon Bosatsu leaned back against the door to Sanzo and Gojyo's room.

"Good evening," Hakkai offered to the Goddess, wondering just what she could possibly want down here. She hadn't done something to Sanzo and Gojyo already, while he had been taking a shower? So foolish of him, to make the same mistake twice. He hissed in disappointment, at himself and Gojyo for failing to protect Sanzo yet again. Had Kanzeon Bosatsu come down just to make that point again?

"Is break time finally over?" Kanzeon asked, looking over to him as if first noticing Hakkai's existence for the first time. The sound of rain echoed in Hakkai's ears as he bit off any harsh return that first came to mind. He took a deep breath, didn't even count to ten, but just grit his teeth and bared it.

"Yes, I wanted to wash some of the blood off. I just came here to give Gojyo a break as well," Hakkai answered back with as much honey in his voice as he could muster, not about to be above sarcasm. The Goddess had started it first, anyway. Kanzeon Bosatsu smirked at his impertinent remark as she crossed her arms under her full breasts. Which reminded Hakkai that down lower on her body was the exact opposite genitalia of what should match the top. He shouldn't even been thinking of her as 'her,' but with clothing it was so much easier to forget.

"What are you doing here?" Hakkai asked before Kanzeon Bosatsu could have a chance to ask him something else of the like nature. He wasn't about to be berated for what he had done, because from this point on it was all about what he would do. Sanzo had taught him that lesson, and now the Goddess was trying to toy with the priest's life.

"I'm waiting," she returned mysteriously with a wide grin that Hakkai didn't like at all. Just what was she doing, leaning against the door like that? It was then Hakkai lamely recalled that the doors opened outward in this place, so she was probably keeping the two men in the room locked in.

"For what?" He asked with a smile, very confident that things wouldn't turn out the way Kanzeon Bosatsu had wanted them to. Gojyo and Sanzo hated each other. In fact, the only time the two were civil to each other was when one was trying to bum a cigarette from the other. That was as close to friendship as they got, and Hakkai very much doubted that Sanzo would be 'in the mood' after all that had happened, especially not with someone like Gojyo.

There was a low moan on the other side of the door, followed by a few grunts that made Hakkai wonder if Sanzo and Gojyo were fighting now. There were no sounds of punches being thrown; or, at least, none of them were hitting. He looked in Kanzeon Bosatsu in shock as she grinned proudly, the white of her teeth flashing in the relative darkness of the hallway. Just what the hell was she here for now, another laugh, or to tell Hakkai what a bad job he had done, yet again?

"That," Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped as she jerked a thumb backward at the room behind her. There was an unmistakable cry of ecstasy… that sounded like Sanzo?! Hakkai almost shoved Kanzeon Bosatsu out of the way before catching himself.

"Did you-…" Hakkai started.

"I was just waiting to see if anything would happen. They didn't do anything they didn't want to do," Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped back, obviously offended that Hakkai would think she would use her supreme powers to force Gojyo and Sanzo to have sex. She had already announced that she wished it would happen, so it wasn't like Hakkai had any reason not to suspect her. There was another embarrassing cry of unadulterated pleasure before he heard the bed start to hit the wall loudly in a rhythmic thumping.

"You look like you need a drink," Kanzeon Bosatsu murmured as she stepped closer and put a hand up against the side f Hakkai's face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. Depthless, black, and wise… Sucking him in, and reading his soul. Hakkai's eyes burned just meeting her gaze, and an instinctive blink saved him. The Goddess was a step back when he opened his eyes again, already strutting off down the hallway. Hakkai looked at the door once, his ears burning at the noises on the other side, before he followed after Kanzeon Bosatsu.

"Would you care to join me?" Hakkai asked when he caught up to her, thinking that it wasn't too bad of an idea now. He couldn't imagine sleep now, thinking of Sanzo and Gojyo actually having sex… Being naked together? It was mind-boggling, like all the known laws of the universe had been turned upside down. He needed more than just a drink to calm down after all this.

"Well, doesn't sound too shitty. It's been a while since I've had a drink on Earth," she replied huskily, making Hakkai wonder why she had been named the Goddess of Mercy. She was more like the Goddess of Lust with that attitude, trying to get everyone in the known world to get together, and that inviting attitude. Hakkai followed after her silently, trying to get his thoughts beyond Sanzo and Gojyo actually getting together… And why was he fixating on it?

They walked down the stairs and into the main room, which Hakkai was half-expected to be closed down with the power out. A large fire roared on the other side of the room with half of the patrons crowded around it. Fat candles were at every table, lighting the place up in a soft and homely glow that Hakkai would have thought was impossible for the sordid place. Even the single waitress, who was thankfully not Miss Mei, held a candle as she moved throughout the room.

Kanzeon Bosatsu stepped past the looks suddenly directed her way with a keen interest. Hakkai couldn't blame the men for gawking at the strange 'woman' with long black hair and breasts nearly showing through the sheen cloth draped around her body. If only they knew that she was actually a Goddess. Half of them would probably laugh it off as a really bad joke, and the other half would probably go running like the superstitious bunch they were. It was already hard enough being a part of the High Priest's company. Most seemed to think that he was blessed with supernatural powers just because he spent time in Genjo Sanzo's presence; but he was ignored for once in favor of Kanzeon Bosatsu.

"Are you buying?" she asked as she took a seat at the bar, glancing back at Hakkai as he tried to stay in the shadows and simply soak up the atmosphere. A storm didn't have to be all bad. Hakkai took the empty seat next to her as a thin, barely legal boy gawked at the Goddess over his beer.

"Of course, whatever you would like is on me...If you would care to answer a few questions in exchange?" Hakkai smoothly returned, grinned like the gentleman he truly was. Kanzeon Bosatsu looked back at him something that might have been a sneer, before she waved to the barkeep.

"Your hardest, here," Kanzeon Bosatsu yelled loudly at the bartender, calling everyone's attention to her, if it hadn't already been directed at her. Hakkai only smiled through it, used to much worse after traveling with those three. The rude request got them two glasses slammed down in front of each other, obviously not even a beautiful woman and a member of the Genjo Sanzo's party could command much power during a black-out.

The man poured them two meager shots of clear alcohol, which was probably watered down already. He went to move away, but Hakkai put his hand over the barkeep's own and smiled congenially.

"Just leave the bottle, and bring another when you have the chance, please," Hakkai asked politely, nodding to Kanzeon Bosatsu as she finished off the first drink before the man even had the time to set the bottle down on the counter. Hakkai poured Kanzeon Bosatsu another, which she took with remarkable gracefulness for one who had already stripped down naked in front of him once today.

"So, what the fuck did you want to ask me?" Kanzeon Bosatsu asked, swirling the contents of the glass for a moment before swallowing it all again in an elegant gulp. The poor man on her other side laughed and then hiccupped, too inebriated to even make a pass at the Goddess. It was for the better, anyway.

"That youkai, that… 'painted' Sanzo. What was he, exactly?" Hakkai asked, finally throwing back a drink of his own at the end. The liquor burned down his throat at left a cheap, bitter taste in his mouth, but he could tell there was enough alcohol to do the job. Kanzeon Bosatsu looked over at him curiously, probably expecting an easier question for an opener. The boy on her other side was almost openly drooling, his nose turned toward the Goddess as he tried to catch a stronger whiff of the sandalwood and lilies that was coming off her. Hakkai gritted his teeth, wondering if he should try to say anything before the poor guy got hurt. He had no idea who he was inexpertly coming onto.

"He's been around for a few decades, actually. You can find some pretty fucking old youkai in these damn mountains, even before the madness first came," Kanzeon Bosatsu explained as Hakkai nodded his head in encouragement. He wasn't about to say that he'd already figured out the like as they got further West and into isolated lands that human beings had never heard of before. The few people that did live out in these quiet, little rural towns also seemed to think that there was nothing beyond the horizon, and most of the youkai hadn't even heard of Gyuuma-oh or Kougaiji. Despite lacking the support of their most consistent and powerful enemies, this last youkai had managed to nearly kill Sanzo.

"The bastard was always a killer and crazy mother-fucker, but he started painting his victims. He tortured them until they died, and used the blood in the picture. Because of that, he managed to tie their souls to the canvas," Kanzeon Bosatsu elaborated even further on a very tender subject. The boy's mouth dropped open at the woman talking about such horrible things with such a plain look on her face as she gestured to Hakkai. He poured the Goddess a glass as well as another for himself, shaking his head at the information. Sanzo would have died on that bed if they hadn't come. He had lost so much blood that it was believable some had been used in the painting. The youkai hadn't counted on Sanzo surviving though. Hakkai hadn't really either, but it seemed like the priest was going to make a full recovery.

He was already feeling good enough to mess around with Gojyo. Hakkai couldn't help a shudder that ran all the way down his spine, forgetting that he was trying to not think about what was going on upstairs. He took down his second drink in one swallow, and followed it up with a third just to make sure. He shook his head and resisted the urge to start scraping his tongue against his teeth to get rid of the aftertaste. Hakkai didn't usually drink, and when he did, it was with higher quality than watered down gin. Or was it tequila? Hakkai couldn't even tell from the awful taste.

"The woods. That why they have such an eerie feeling, right?" Hakkai realized suddenly, thinking how close they had come to losing Sanzo and having him turn into a ghost like the rest the youkai. How many spirits were lingering on then, to make all the snow on the ground perfect? It must be even worse than true purgatory; to be forever condemned to cleaning the woods because they had died so violently.

"I don't know how many he's killed, but it's in the hundreds. Maybe thousands by now. Sanzo was probably the first to actually live through it," Kanzeon Bosatsu murmured to herself, her eyes narrowing off into the distance as she swirled around the glass in her hand. Hakkai shrugged, not sure if it was so much because of them healing Sanzo, or because the priest simply refused to die. It wasn't every day that the Goddess of Mercy actually bothered to show up, and it was only because it was Sanzo. Just what was his connection to this deity anyway, when the priest cursed her out every time she showed up? Maybe Sanzo had known all along what Kanzeon Bosatsu had been hiding between her legs. He had a knack for spotting every little detail.

The barkeep came back with the second bottle and a fat wick candle, placing both items down on the counter without another word to either of them. Kanzeon Bosatsu and Hakkai stared after the man as he turned and walked over to obviously more favored customers, both of them quiet shocked that the man was being so rude. Though there was no way the man could know that he was shorting the Goddess of Mercy, but he knew darn well that Hakkai was traveling with Sanzo. The barkeep had seen him coming into the place several different times with the High Priest unconscious in someone else's arms. A power outage was no reason to be so cold toward guests.

"That's exactly right. I didn't except a dumb shit like you to actually be able to figure it out," Kanzeon Bosatsu exclaimed in a way that made Hakkai wonder if she really did think the whole lot of them were mentally challenged. He smiled back at her with ever-present grace and good humor, not about to start an argument with the Goddess of Mercy. Not when he had a few shots burning in his stomach and two very close friends rolling around upstairs like animals. Just what could Sanzo possibly be thinking of right now?

"But, why Gojyo?" Hakkai asked carefully, wanting very badly to know the answer. He had never even thought of Sanzo and sex together in the same sentence before this week had come along and blown everything to hell. It was even worse that it had to be Gojyo, one of the single most flippant and uncaring womanizers Hakkai had ever met, despite all of his otherwise mostly good points. He didn't even want to think about how things were going to be tomorrow or for the next few days afterwards. Hakkai could already smell this ending badly.

"Those two are downright fucking pathetic. They wouldn't ever get around to even touching each other if I didn't do anything," Kanzeon Bosatsu growled, not just satisfied with forcing them to go on this mission but now playing with their love lives as well. If things got any worse, though Hakkai doubted it was possible, he would not be so forgiving, Goddess of Mercy or not.

"Exactly. So, why?" Hakkai demanded for the second time. If she was agreeing with him about Gojyo and Sanzo being more like to tear each other's heads off rather than make love, then why had she come down from Heaven to listen at the door? She must have done something to make this happen. Hakkai couldn't believe that opposites attracted, at least, not such extreme ones like Gojyo and Sanzo.

"They're perfect for each other. Both of them want to be loved so bad, but damned if they'll ever speak a word," she waved the empty glass in front of her to accent her point. Hakkai nodded at that, unable to argue a single word of that sentence. Gojyo and Sanzo were both very deeply hurt from their childhoods, and both had been forced to grow up in severe lack of familial love, the comfort of a human being. Sanzo had created a hard shell around his heart, his emotions almost completely locked off to keep anyone else from hurting him. Gojyo tried to do the same, but his was an act that would fall apart into tears easily after drinking too much or having very good sex.

"But, Sanzo is-…" Hakkai started, putting aside the 'who' was doing it to Sanzo for the suspicion that the priest might be really damaged still. All the physical marks were gone, but what went on inside that head was very dangerous indeed. How could Sanzo even be ready for physical intimacy when he had been gang-raped by youkai only a few nights ago?!

"What? He needs something to forget all that with and that shitty, pretentious, uptight bitch wouldn't know the first thing about how to get some. I just merely made the opportunity. They're the ones that chose to do as I said," Kanzeon Bosatsu countered, her point being just as honest as the last. It was all the more reason to wonder what the hell Sanzo and Gojyo were thinking right now. If anything, Hakkai thought he would have been able to trust Gojyo to keep his dick in his pants for over five minutes, but he supposed that was asking too much, yet again.

"So, then, what do we do now?" Hakkai asked as he reached over for the almost finished bottle. When would Sanzo be ready to travel again? Would he even want to continue with their mission after everything that had happened? Hakkai couldn't blame the man if this whole mess was the final straw for him. Hakkai could tell how the duties of a High Priest Sanzo weighed down on the blonde, and knew that this would only add to the shame and responsibility Sanzo felt.

"Do you have to even ask? You're going to keep going West, of course," Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped, like he was a child that repeated failed to understand what was going on. How could he when everything was being thrown into such chaos? The only one out of all of them who was relatively unharmed was Hakuryuu. What a poor showing they had done this time, but at least it was all over, for the most part…

"And you're going to buy me a drink," Kanzeon Bosatsu ordered in a deep and sensual timber that made Hakkai shiver despite himself. The intoxicated teenager to her side looked up in confusion as he slowly realized she was talking to him. Big, brown doe eyes in that plain farmer face went wide as they could go when Kanzeon Bosatsu turned her full attention on the poor boy.

"Me? Are you… talking to me?" the kid slurred out, one eye refusing to focus on the Goddess as she leaned toward him, Hakkai completely forgotten. He could only pour yet another shot while Kanzeon Bosatsu whispered something into the boy's ear. It was no doubt something lude by the blush on the young man's cheeks, and he was already drunkenly digging in his pockets and slapping some random coins down for his check. Hakkai decided that he would have to protest when the boy stood up and almost fell down again if it wasn't for Kanzeon Bosatsu grabbing him around the waist.

"What are you going to do? You can't-…" Hakkai tried before the Goddess swung around with her prey staggering to keep up. The boy was likely much too drunk to know what was happening, but Hakkai didn't think anyone would appreciate a partner having the opposite genitalia of what one would expect from Kanzeon Bosatsu.

"I'm going to have a little fun. You just stay down here and feel bad, like usual," Kanzeon Bosatsu snapped before she turned around and started heading off to what Hakkai suspected was to the poor lad's room. He turned back to his empty glass, grimacing at the faint loss of equilibrium which was slowly getting stronger. Alcohol was starting to roar through his thoughts, feeling guilty about feeling guilty now, thanks to Kanzeon Bosatsu's last comment. As if he didn't already feel responsible enough for everything that had happened.

Hakkai turned his full attention onto the second bottle stubbornly in his solitude.

* * *

Waking up hurt in such a delicious way that Sanzo wished it could last forever. There was blessed silence now, the storm from last night blown over, except for the slightest whisper of wind across his ear every now and then. Relief took him, so unfamiliar and deceptively calming when every muscle was sore, his whole body aching like he had run a marathon. It felt good, so warm and comfortable that he could consider going back to sleep. His head was still aching from all the drinking, and the sheets were soft against his bare skin, along with … Gojyo's… naked… body… Pressed against his equally naked body as they lay on the bed, Gojyo's arm draped over his side and a leg between Sanzo's. That had been no wind, but the taller man breathing heavily into his ear.

He pulled away slightly, dried sweat on flesh making them stick together for a moment before Sanzo finally wormed away from Gojyo on the bed. Again, memory failed to surface immediately, but the dried-out aftertaste in his mouth indicated it was because of alcohol this time. Sanzo slowly brought a hand up to his head, still feeling drunk and disorientated and not at all pleased with what was going on. The last thing he remembered was when plain exhaustion and liquor had finally broken him down into tears before Gojyo, the lack of control very poignant in an otherwise fuzzy night.

Fuck, the lightning. Just remembering made his skin crawl. Sanzo hadn't had to go through that kind of weather in a long time. He would have preferred to curl up underneath the sheets and play dead until it stopped raining, but he hadn't very well been able to do that in front of Gojyo, of all people! Sano was furious that the redhead had seen him in such a fucking pathetic state, that he had just held onto the man for dear life while thunder crashed around him, and…and…the pillow as he had shoved his face into it, Gojyo still thrusting into him though Sanzo had already felt such intense pleasure he'd ejaculated twice, his body completely overwhelmed. His ears burned, recalling that he had to gag himself to keep from crying out, because it had felt good. Gojyo had felt so good. It was so much different than what those youkai did. That had simply hurt as…

Sanzo hung limply from his captured wrists, unable to even do more than twitch his legs as the youkai pulled out, blood and semen dripping across Sanzo's thigh. Blood was dried and being covered over with a new flow down his wrists. The sheets underneath his back were soggy with more blood from his back, the damage worsening each time a youkai climbed up and tried to pound him into the bed. He had tried to keep count at first, ready to match the number with bullets, but sheer pain and non-stop switching between the youkai had forced him to forget how many it was exactly. Now, he was just going to kill them all, every single last one in this forest. It seemed like all of them were in that room, staring at him and cheering as their brethren ripped him apart from the inside. But, the first one would be the painter as the leader youkai stepped up to loom over the bed, a brief pause in the abuse.

"I'm going to take some, if you don't mind, Genjo Sanzo," the youkai asked snidely, just as irritating as Hakkai with that constant politeness. Sanzo couldn't summon the energy to even move as the youkai reached down and grabbed his bruised and aching genitals with one fist, sliding it down in one long, agonizing moment where it felt the youkai was trying to pop his head off. Then, the youkai dropped him to smear around the blood covering the insides of his legs until his hand was soaked red.

"You all may continue," the youkai ordered as he moved back to the painting with his hand covered in Sanzo's blood. There was the wet splat of the youkai's palm hitting the canvas before a relative murmur went through the crowd as the youkai tried to decide who got to go next. The only reason Sanzo didn't bite his tongue off and bleed to death before one more of these fuckers even so much as touched him was because he wanted to make sure he killed them all. Such a small, petty desire, but Sanzo would be damned if he didn't murder each and everyone one of these youkai. He would get revenge for this, no matter how long it would take. He would survive just for that.

Sanzo was out of the bed and across the room before he even made the conscious decision to move, just panicked into flight from whatever had triggered that piece of his memory. Amazingly enough, Gojyo slept through it even as Sanzo gasped and choked for air around a tightening throat. Just how long had those youkai had used him? How many more of these little surprises was he going to have to live through, until he finally got through that night, at least in his own memory? How much longer until he finally had his mind back under control?

Shit. Damn it all to the deepest hell. The more Sanzo found out, the harder the shame was getting to bear. He had reason enough to be pissed just as what had happened, but that painting…

That goddamn painting…

The hardest thing to think about now was that Gojyo, Hakkai, and even Goku knew e-fucking-xactly what had happened to him. Sanzo was getting the story together with little pieces here and there, but the utter gall of them knowing, talking about it, him. They were likely all getting together to critique that damn thing. How could he really believe that Gojyo had burned the painting? It might still be around… That paranoid thought made his blood turn cold, his stomach clenching up in sheer terror.

Sanzo bit his lower lip to keep himself from shaking. He wasn't about to fall apart. That just wasn't what Genjo Sanzo would do. No way in hell. He had thought he could fix this himself, had thought that if he just used Gojyo like the easy fuck he was, he could cover up these too fresh and painful memories. And, it had worked, just so long as Gojyo had been screwing him, Sanzo hadn't even been aware that his temporary lover was a half-youkai. He hadn't been able to think, just felt good. He hadn't been expecting that from Gojyo, didn't think for a second that the redhead would be good for anything but a quick fuck to soothe the pain with.

His robe was on the floor, but he didn't remember how it had gotten there. He lifted it up to find the thing wrinkled and stained, his own semen smeared on the edge of the robe being too fucking much. Sanzo dropped it in horror, remembering that he had insisted on keeping it on… actually frightened by the thought of being completely naked with another person. Gojyo especially, after Sanzo had reached out in a drunken haze for a little bit of comfort.

And the asshole had provided quite more than necessary. Walking around was making Sanzo aware of the little aches and sores of his body, all because of Gojyo. Sanzo put a hand to his head, not about ready to deal with waking up for the 'morning after.' Not with Gojyo. Not with anyone. He had to get out of the room, but he had to get dressed first. Sanzo couldn't stand the nakedness, not even when he was damn sure Gojyo was sound asleep after Sanzo's own rude awakening.

Sanzo went to the drawer and for once had the slightest bit of luck for there to be a clean set of pajamas. He only took the time to step haphazardly into the pants, almost toppling over if he didn't catch himself with a hand on the dresser. He didn't bother with the shirt, just bolted for the door as silently as possible with Gojyo snoring lightly behind him. He was still smashed enough to forget that they had been locked in the night before; turning the knob before he realized it was useless.

He blinked in surprise when the door swung open under his hand. Well, there was no need to try jumping out the window, then. Sanzo was out in the hallway and shutting the door ever-so-gently in a heartbeat, already feeling better now that he had a solid wall between him and Gojyo. For a moment Sanzo looked both ways down the hall, forgetting which way was the other room in his stupor.

Sanzo ended up deciding to go right, and opened up the next door down without any heed for who was inside. He was High Priest Genjo Sanzo. He didn't need to knock. It was identical to the one he had just left, shabby and plain; except this one had two beds. Sanzo's eyes narrowed at the single empty bed, wondering where Hakkai could still be at this hour. In the other bed was Goku, sprawled out across the covers, not looking at all like he had been Son Goku only a little bit ago. Sanzo tisked at the dumb ass's ape ability to sleep so soundly no matter what the situation before he moved toward the bed, still feeling tired and vulnerable; which was most certainly not a state he wanted to be in with Gojyo.

He had made most likely the worst fucking mistake of his life last night. What had he been thinking when he allowed Gojyo to mount him?! The prick would be overconfident as all hell now, or even worse, actually tell someone else what had happened between them. Sanzo swallowed hard, his eyes most certainly not beginning to sting with tears. Genjo Sanzo did not regret things...But, he could certainly feel like an ass for allowing it to happen, for letting himself go completely.

Sanzo closed his eyes tightly, trying to forget that for a split second, it had felt so good that Sanzo had almost cried Gojyo's name out loud. Humiliating! Absolutely pathetic. At least he had gagged himself with the pillow, but he had come so close to letting the whole inn know just who was giving it to High Priest Genjo Sanzo. Gods, even Hakkai had known, and the sadistic mother-fucker had barricaded them in the room together. Did they even think of him as human any more after what had happened?

It was too much to deal with right now. His head was starting to hurt, the throb of a migraine faint but distinct. Sanzo felt his breath stick in his throat, a hair's width away from screaming out loud. His chest was starting to tighten as well, emotions coming on so strongly that he might be nauseous. Genjo Sanzo didn't worry, didn't anticipate with dread, and didn't run from situations he couldn't handle. He had always been able to handle things before. By himself. No one else could ever be counted on to be there for him. Except now, the loneliness was starting to actually hurt on top of everything else. He was just raw on the inside, bruised and aching from what youkai and half-youkai had done to him.

So, Sanzo fell down on top of the covers, nose to nose with Goku as he lay his head down on the pillow. The dumbass ape kept on sleeping, and would likely doze though any noise or movement Sanzo made now. There was even drool underneath Goku's open mouth on the pillow as the idiot grinned and murmured out some sleepy nonsense that he couldn't understand. The ape was no doubt dreaming about food, with how simpleminded he was. Sanzo couldn't suppress the small smile at that, forgetting about youkai and Gojyo and that painting, everything starting to drift away into a numbness that he hadn't managed to gain with Gojyo. This actually felt like…contentment.

Gojyo hadn't been able to give him this sort of deceptive peace, though he had managed to make Sanzo forget for a moment just how fucked up he really was. Sanzo knew he was rotten, just like bad fruit, from the inside out; but Goku didn't even associate that sort of thing with him. Goku loved him with more blind loyalty than a dog, though Sanzo did his best to deflect those sorts of warm feelings. He had sworn off such weak things off long ago, but it also got real fucking lonely being the High Priest. He just needed a moment where no one was looking at him, ready to gossip about the next thing he did or said, and trying to get in his pants like Gojyo, or his head like Hakkai, and he knew that Goku was the only one who didn't have such thoughts…or no thoughts at all.

Goku didn't even know just how much he could do simply by lying there, mouth open and a little bubble of snot blowing out of one nose. Sanzo couldn't even shake his head at the sheer disgusting way Goku slept, but he ended up with a slight grin on his face that he wouldn't allow in any other one's presence. Goku calmed him, as much as Sanzo didn't like to admit it. He would eat glass before saying so out loud, but Goku could soothe away all the hurt and pain, even the old scars on Sanzo's small, wrinkled heart. What was better was that Goku didn't need to be awake, running around and yelling his head off like an idiot, didn't even need to know that Sanzo was there. He didn't even have to touch the monkey…just get close enough on the bed to smell Goku's usual mix of sweat, dirt, and bizarrely enough, the fresh air of the mountains to feel like for once, everything would be okay.

It was enough for him to take a deep breath, exhale, and let his muscles loosen up. Sanzo could close his eyes and not have any youkai assault him in the darkness, just because he could hear Goku's snoring and dream-babble. He fell asleep next to the dumbass ape before he even knew it, and for once, he didn't even have dreams.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm actually digging Bach Concerto in E right now. But, hoorah, I ring the bell for the first winner: Fish1 for recognizing the lyrics of "Damaged" by Plummet, which I used for the first five chapters. Sixth was, of course, "DJs" by Sublime, and this was "Let Go" by Frou Frou. I use lyrics for all my titles, because I'm not clever enough to come up with something on my own!

Sigh! Let's call this a good pause place, because I want to get back to Weiss Kreuz now (Gluhen's pissing me off too much to leave alone!). Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed me, you really made me want to write more. And damn it, if I really did get paid I could be doing this all day long -TIIIIGHT-

Sorry for the length to, put doesn't this all fit together nicely? Imagine cutting it in half!