Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Inner Demons ❯ Chapter 2: Phantoms ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Title: Inner Demons - Chapter 2: Phantoms
Pairing: Gojyo/Sanzo (naturally)
Rating: Mostly Worksafe
A/N: I'm still not 100% sure where this is going...I just hope you guys like this chapter as much as the first. I had a hard time with this installment because of that very worry; living up to expectations *frets*
Length: 6576 words (15 pages)

Disclaimer: Oh please; As if I could own something so wonderful.

Warnings: Eventual/implied 5x3, angst, violence, innuendo, and general potty-mouth. And remember kids, it's YAOI, so no likie, no readie.

ALSO: Thar be a dream sequence in italics.


Inner Demons

Chapter Two
Phantoms


It had happened again. That fucking dream that refused to allow Sanzo rest or respite. Every fucking night. He took deep, shaking breaths, sitting upright in a tangle of cheap linen sheets in the grey light of morning, the bare panel room he had spent the night in doing nothing to raise his mood. He ran a pale hand over his sweaty face and damp bangs, pushing the sticking strands off of his forehead and out of his eyes. Why-->why</</i>i>--could he never remember? Why was that goddamn dream so elusive?

The entire situation was ridiculous; Sanzo had not too long ago connected the dots, so to speak, and fully realized that the stupid, meaningless dream was the catalyst behind all of his recent troubles--the insomnia, his appetite, his mood and distraction--but for the life of him could not figure out why that was so. It made no sense. It's just a fucking dream.

Yet as he thought it, he was not all that sure it was true. Whatever what happening in the recurring night-trip had to be unsettling or upsetting or something of the like to some degree, otherwise something so stupid would not be effecting him so strongly. It ached somewhere deep, knowing a damned nightmare was causing him so much grief. He had thought he was stronger than that.

Less helpful was the fact that he was still unable to retain any useful clues as to the contents of the dream, as he seemed not to be granted the courtesy of remembering any detail upon waking. In the past week and a half after he had become aware of it's full impact on his life his attention had sharpened, but he could still only grasp flashes, indiscernible and indistinctive; a phantom voice he was sure he knew, a touch, a burning heat, an ache, and the color red. Always the color red. That was the one consistent aspect Sanzo could recall, but he could still not name its nature although he was certain it was not related to blood.

This is getting to be absurd, he thought bitterly to himself, When did I become a fucking basket case?

Irritably, he disentangled himself from the sheets of the small bed he had procured for the night at the shabby little inn in an even shabbier little town, the worn floorboards cold and dusty beneath his bare feet. He grimaced at the way his clothing stuck to his him, dampened by sweat, and cursed a moment later when he discovered the messy remnants of ejaculation in his jeans. "Again?!" He hissed out loud as he quickly stripped his jeans off and stormed into the bathroom to clean himself up.

Much to Sanzo's chagrin, he'd been waking up in such a state in a rapidly growing frequency. It infuriated him due to the mess, the opportunity for humiliation, and the fact that there was no logical reason it should be happening so much. He wasn't even sure he had had as much of a problem with such things when he had been a proper teenager, so why the hell now?

Cleaned and dressed Sanzo gathered up his few belongings in the tiny, cold room and threw his soiled jeans into the bag he used for dirty laundry. Hakkai's going to start asking questions if this keeps up, he thought with a wince. That was one conversation he wished to avoid at all costs.

The monk's unpleasant thoughts ended abruptly at a knock on his door. "Sanzo?" Hakkai's voice inquired politely. "Are you awake?"

Sanzo twitched. Does he have a radar that lets him know when I don't want to see him?</</i>i> he thought blithely, trying hard to forget the laundry issue as he crossed the room to the door and opened it to greet questioning green eyes. "Obviously. Is there a reason you couldn't wait for me to come downstairs?"

Something odd that the blonde could not pinpoint shifted across Hakkai's expression. "Actually, Sanzo, I came up because you didn't come down," he said carefully. "I thought I'd make sure you were feeling all right."

Sanzo's eyes narrowed in a frown.

Hakkai's brow furrowed slightly as he continued, watching Sanzo intently. "You are usually the first one awake, or are up shortly after I am, and at breakfast and impatient to get back on the road. Today Gojyo, Goku, and I have been waiting for you for over an hour."

Sanzo blinked dumbly at the healer for a moment as the information and its meaning slowly processed. "You've..."

"Yes. Did you oversleep? That's very unlike you," Hakkai said, still frowning. "That's why I thought you might be ill."

Sanzo's frown deepened as he stared at the ground and ran a hand through his hair in distraction. Hakkai noticed that it shook slightly and that the monk looked dead tired. "...I'm sorry," he mumbled, shocking Hakkai and not paying attention at all to what he was saying as he retreated back inside. "I'll be there in a minute."

"All right," Hakkai said, concern now clearly etched into his voice. "Are you sure you are feeling all right, Sanzo? You look rather pale."

"I'm fine!" the blonde snapped irately, shifting back into a more recognizable facsimile of himself as he finished closing up his pack and set it by the door for when they left before vanishing into the bathroom.

Hakkai sighed wearily to himself and left much to Sanzo's relief. In the small grubby bathroom the blonde braced his hands against the chipped sink and steadied himself, looking at his white, tired reflection with distaste. "So now your inner clock is fucking up too?" he grumbled to Mirror Sanzo. He sighed and pushed away, resisting the urge to break something. "What's next?"

----------------------------------------------------------- ----

Gojyo balanced precariously on the back legs of his chair in the downstairs dining room and watched with mild interest as Hakkai descended the stairs and crossed the short distance through the small sparse room wearing his worried-mother-hen expression. He puffed on his third cigarette of the morning and exhaled a cloud of smoke as the healer settled into his seat beside him. "So what's the monk's problem?"

Hakkai picked up his mug of tea and took a sip, staring into the amber liquid. "He overslept."

"Oh, is that all?" Gojyo asked dismissively, leaning forward so his chair legs hit the floor with a resounding clunk that failed to awaken the dozing monkey across the table from him. "With that expression you were wearin' you got my hopes up that he kicked the bucket or lost his voice or somethin'."

Hakkai rolled his eyes. "It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it's extremely unusual for Sanzo. He's been waking up later and later these days, as if it's getting more and more difficult, and that concerns me. I think the insomnia he's been suffering is really starting to catch up with him. He has low blood pressure to begin with, and these issues with his sleep cycle are no help."

"Sanzo, low blood pressure?" Gojyo laughed disbelievingly. "No way, not with his temper."

Hakkai gave the kappa a withering look. "Well believe it. I should know after our contact over the years as healer and patient." He looked back at his tea, frowning. "What's concerning me most at the moment is his physical state. He looks incredibly worn down. Whatever sleep he's getting is either not much or not restful, and he hardly eats anything these days."

Gojyo snorted, hiding his own small not so small concern for the foul-mouthed beauty. "Can't eat, can't sleep -- maybe he's lovesick," he joked.

Hakkai's unamused retort was cut short by the appearance of the subject of their gossip on the creaking stairs. The pair watched silently as the blonde walked over and sat curtly beside Goku, who after eating his fill an hour prior, had fallen asleep. Sanzo withheld from smacking him to wake him up in favor of silence.

Gojyo blinked and stared at the monk. Damn. He does look bad, he thought with an air of worry as he took in the bruises under drooping violet eyes and the pallor of his skin. "So," he drawled, "finally decided to grace us with your presence, your highness?"

Sanzo glared darkly at the redhead who took a small mental relief in the fact that Sanzo was at least still acting like Sanzo and that the electricity was still in his fey eyes.

"I made sure that some of the food that we ordered for breakfast was left for you, Sanzo," Hakkai said pointedly over the rim of his tea mug, gesturing to the large plate in the center of the table still piled with assorted breakfast foods, presumably now cold.

Gojyo rolled his eyes. Real subtle, Hakkai.

Sanzo flicked his violet gaze over the cold food, and, despite the strong desire to spite Hakkai, grabbed a piece of toast. Hakkai looked surprised but wholly pleased and had a waitress bring more coffee and tea. Sanzo managed to finish the toast and even took a second piece before greedily drinking coffee. It seemed he needed the caffeine badly from the looks of him.

Shortly after, once the gold card had been used, the bags packed, and the monkey kicked awake, the Sanzo Ikkou drove off down the dirt road that had lead them to the backwoods town they had stopped in.

Thank the Gods it's cooling off again, Gojyo thought in relief, his head lolling back against his seat. Goku was talking about something again but the kappa really didn't care, not while the rocking of the jeep and the sway of the breeze felt oh-so-very-nice. Eventually, however, the contentment shifted to boredom as Goku gave up conversation as a lost cause and the remainder of the party did not seek to break the silence. Sitting up, the redhead decided to partake in his favorite pastime of the past few months: Monk Watching.

He'd grown bored of scenery early on in their travels, unsurprisingly, and had taken to looking at things that were far more interesting; things like Sanzo. The game had become more and more fascinating as time wore on and Gojyo knew, although he would not admit it verbally, that it was because of the attraction. Denial aside he nonetheless loved staring at the blonde. The only real trick was to not get caught. Sanzo usually had keen senses and could feel eyes on him pretty fast on the worst of days, but Gojyo was getting better at being discreet and having his fun. The kappa was having a harder time of it lately though when the monk had started getting jittery. A twitchy Sanzo could be fun, but not when he started getting violent. Gojyo still had a welt from a few days before when he'd supposedly looked at Sanzo the wrong way at the dinner table.

Luckily for Gojyo, Sanzo seemed to be asleep at the moment. He had to admit it was almost...cute sometimes when Sanzo dozed off in the front seat; usually all the tension would evaporate from his features, leaving an open, clear expression so uncharacteristic yet still undeniably Sanzo it shook Gojyo to his core. He loved seeing that face, no matter how much he would never admit it to anyone. Other times, when the monk was in a worse mood and the scowl usually painted across his face didn't melt away in the calm of sleep his expression tended to morph into more of an endearing pout that the kappa couldn't help but associate with small children. He usually tried to imagine what the monk must have looked like when he was kid whenever that happened. With a grin of mischievous humor Gojyo shifted to gaze into the side mirror, hoping for a glimpse of twelve-year-old Sanzo...and frowned.

Instead of a scowl, that stirring, open expression, or even a pout, Sanzo looked incredibly weary, head drooping just slightly and rocking gently with the motions of the jeep, golden hair blowing softly in the breeze. In the rearview mirror Gojyo caught the glance of green eyes and knew that the concern he felt was mutual.

---------------------------------------------------------< br>
The air was suffocating with their heat, absolute, irrepressible, and growing near unbearable as the world spun madly about him. Or maybe that was his head. Konzen wasn't sure, but he couldn't think, not when that mouth was on his, stealing his breath whenever he thought he had reclaimed it, not when those hands were burning away his flesh, caressing and possessing as no one had ever dared to before.

Konzen truly didn't know how he had gotten himself into such a compromising position; into this situation. He had really just been minding his own business, walking through the blossoming Sakura trees to clear his mind of the chaos of the overflowing inbox on his desk and of the small chattering child that refused to leave him be when that languid, drawling voice had drifted down to him from the tree branches and manifested into the form of one of his most annoying acquaintances; Kenren.

Leering eyes that never failed to burn into him whenever they were in the same room and the heady scent of Sake were then upon him, voice laughing and body moving with a fearless certainty towards his own slight, pale figure. Predatory.

Somehow, the bastard backed him into a tree and gave no indication of letting him leave, paying no matter to the poison spilling from his lips or the rough shoves to his chest while he prattled off his usual lecherous comments and other typical nonsense. Like he would ever want to listen to any of it.

And then, when he wasn't even paying attention, something in Kenren changed. It started with a change in his manner, a sudden serious expression, something strange and earnest Konzen had never seen in him before, and a soft touch. So sudden, and so out of character, Konzen was thrown off balance and caught off guard, and before he really knew what was happening he awoke to the knowledge of cool grass and a blanket off fallen sakura blossoms beneath his back, his long golden hair loose and fanned out about him. A hot mouth was murmuring reckless and dangerous things in his ear between heady breaths and his own keening moans, alien to his ears, in response to blazing kisses and touches that made him tremble as hands ran over his skin, skin that had never been touched by another.

What was he doing to him? Why was he allowing this to happen? He shouldn't be allowing it, he shouldn't...but oh, that touch, that scorching touch, could he deny it? Could he deny the promised relief of that ache that was growing unbearable at that bastard's hands?

Violet eyes blinked slowly open at the soft touch of a hand against his face, eyes he hadn't known he had shut, drawing him to look into the other's face to find something unguarded and startling written across there as soft words that Konzen could not understand, not from him, not from anyone, fell from his lips -- and abruptly the image shifted and Sanzo was curtained by a sea of red that swung down about their faces in an intimate shroud as claret eyes blazed into his own, growing closer as lips descended towards his own, the seal of a promise.

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Sanzo jerked upright with a sharp gasp that jolted his roommate awake in the next bed over. He did not hear the question Hakkai asked from the other side of the room as he gripped his hair and fought to hold on to the dream that was sifting like sand from between his fingers. Red...red, and a heavy voice. A face. A burning touch...the smell of flowers, and Sake...

Sanzo jolted sharply from his reverie at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, having not heard nor seen Hakkai crossing the small distance between their beds. The blonde blinked in the darkness and caught the worried expression in green eyes. "Sanzo?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, moving away from the touch and not wanting to have to look at Hakkai. Why did this have to keep happening?

"...Are you sure? You woke up rather...violently." Hakkai said quietly, trying to peer at the face that was decidedly hiding from him.

Sanzo didn't respond and lay back down, rolling onto his side away from the healer, wanting to ignore him as much as he wanted to ignore the sheen of sweat covering his body, the frantic beating of his heart, and the stickiness he could feel between his legs. He probably would not be falling back to sleep that night. Damn it all,

"Sanzo," Hakkai pressed, moving closer and knowing with certainty that he was pushing his luck, "Please, talk to me. Is this why you haven't been sleeping, nightmares?"

Sanzo seethed where he lay, cursing the inn for only having two rooms when they had arrived earlier that evening in the shitty little town they had rambled into, and feeling like a child because of the petty cause of his distress. Before his strained judgment was roused to tell him to do otherwise, he snapped upright once more and whipped about to face Hakkai yelling, "Yes! All right?! Leave me the fuck alone!"

Hakkai stepped back in mild shock at the sudden outburst and observed a similar surprise wash over Sanzo's face leaving a stricken expression at having admitted such a thing. "Oh?" The healer asked quietly. "Am I correct in guessing that these are not the usual nightmares you suffer?" He ventured cautiously.

Sanzo sighed heavily and flopped back against the pillows, pressing a hard hand against weary eyes. There was no way he could avoid an interrogation now, the very thing he had wanted to avoid and managed to fumble in his current mental distress. "Yes, you are correct." he mumbled almost inaudibly. I feel like I should be lying on a fucking couch instead of this shitty bed. He suffered a momentary vision of himself on such a couch, Hakkai perched in an armchair opposite holding a notepad and wearing a smile as he asked, "And how does that make you feel?" I swear to the Gods, if he actually asks me that --

Not one to miss an opportunity, Hakkai sat back down on his own bed and gazed intently at Sanzo's pale defeated form. "Is it recurring?"

"Yes," was the weary reply.

"When did you start having it?"

Sanzo chewed on his lip and scowled into his arm. "Right after that fucking battle." He grumbled. He didn't see the need to go on; Hakkai was smart enough to know which battle he meant--the one that had left him wrapped in bandages for weeks.

Hakkai stared blankly into the darkness as he swallowed that bit of information. Was it triggered by the head injury, perhaps? How very odd..."What is it about...?" Hakkai almost bit his lip after asking such a dangerous question.

Sanzo gave a long-suffering sigh and dropped his arm listlessly to his side, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I don't know."

Hakkai frowned and found himself annoyed by this tactic, despite his relief at not getting shot for his audacity. "Sanzo,"

"I'm not trying to be cute," Sanzo snapped, anger flaring through his eyes, "I don't fucking know because I can never fucking remember! It's driving me insane because it won't stop!"

Hakkai's frown remained but changed in quality at the monk's clear misery over the matter. "Can you remember anything from this dream?"

"Not really," the blonde grumbled, "flashes of things. A voice and a face, though I'm not sure whose, smells, a...burning..." he trailed off, staring at the wall, suddenly feeling oddly embarrassed; exposed.

Hakkai's eyebrows rose. "A burning?"

"Yes," Sanzo mumbled, "I don't really know what else to call it. It's stifling, unrelenting...overwhelming. I don't know how to explain it, all right!" he snapped as Hakkai's expression did not change. Sanzo huffed and resumed staring at the ceiling, cooling his temper.

"...And red," he murmured to no one after a long moment, in an afterthought.

That caught Hakkai's attention. "Red?"

"That's the clearest thing I can grasp. At the end there's red, everywhere," he said quietly, before adding grudgingly to answer Hakkai's question before he asked it,” But not the kind of red typical of my other dreams."

The gears in Hakkai's head started turning madly. "You mentioned a face and a voice. Do they belong to someone you know?"

"I think so...but I can't pinpoint who after I wake up."

"Tell me more about the burning. Is it literal, as in with fire?"

Sanzo's brow furrowed. "No. It's physical, internal," he frowned further as he contemplated how to explain the sensation, "bodily."

Hakkai's interest was piquing keenly as he felt they were circling a subject of a sexual nature that Sanzo seemed to be ignorant of. "And in this dream," he continued casually, "Is it specifically you and this other person?"

Sanzo hesitated, raising Hakkai's suspicions until the blonde spoke. "...Yes," he said slowly, trying to get it straight, "but not...not the whole time." When he said it, Sanzo knew that that was right. Somehow, he was remembering something, something important, something vital.

Hakkai blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Something changes."

"Changes?"

"We...the people in the dream," the monk said falteringly, "they're us, but not...they're different...and then something changes, and they are us."

Hakkai stared mystified at his companion once he had finished his labored statement. "What?"

Sanzo tsked in irritation and rolled onto his side away from the healer again. The interview was over. "Never mind."

"Oh, but Sanzo, I just--"

"I said forget it!"

Hakkai sighed in resign and climbed back into his bed. "We'll continue this discussion later," he said, not as a suggestion. Sanzo made a noise of disgust and then ignored the healer completely. Hakkai lay back against the soft mattress of the inn bed and mulled over the few pieces of information Sanzo had divulged. He was under the strong suspicion that the dream was of an intimate nature, something that he'd bet money on was an alien experience for the monk in real life if his guess was correct (as his guesses usually were). The importance of red, but not the specific of blood as Sanzo had distinguished, made him wonder if Gojyo was truly without hope in his infatuation. Hakkai could not help the lecherous smile at the thought of Gojyo armed with the knowledge that he had a chance; Sanzo would be traumatized for life. The one thing Hakkai could make no sense out of though was Sanzo's last comment.

>...they're us, but not...they're different...and then something changes, and they are us.

What does that mean? Hakkai pondered. He wondered if there was something Sanzo's subconscious knew that Sanzo did not.

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Gojyo was coming to learn very quickly that a sleep-deprived Sanzo was an overly-irritable and trigger-happy Sanzo. As the days passed his disposition grew steadily darker and more dangerous, and Gojyo and Goku, smarter than they appeared at face-value, had grown quiet and wary. Gojyo was not in the least amused by the murderous humor dominating the monk and had even suggested to Hakkai the idea of slipping drugs to the brat before he snapped and went on a killing spree. Hakkai was decidedly unhelpful, saying that he was in the process of working on the problem.

My ass, Gojyo thought darkly as he wrenched the Smith & Wesson from pale shaking fingers the next night when a man accidentally called Sanzo "miss". The redhead couldn't even laugh about it properly which put him in a sore mood. "Damn it, calm down! He apologized for bumping into you and didn't get a good look!" Even if he still probably would have made the same mistake considering your pretty little face, girlish figure, and that lovely dress you always insist on wearing. Damn he wished he could say it without getting throttled and castrated.

Sanzo pulled his wrist free from Gojyo's other hand and slouched in his seat, seething silently. Like a goddamn teenager. Gojyo carefully deposited the banishing gun into his jacket pocket for the time being, still not copasetic with the monk having a firearm at the moment, and watched him warily from the corner of his eye. He was getting sick of babysitting a nut job, a very violent nut job at that, but a part of him was worried as all hell.

He watched as the blonde poked at his rice and looked moderately miserable, like he wanted to eat it but couldn't. That seemed silly to Gojyo, but he couldn't forget the few times in the past couple weeks that Sanzo had looked a little green.

The redhead couldn't take much more of the situation; the tension, the welts, the twitch Sanzo's left eye was developing. Hakkai couldn't possibly be going about the issue the right way, no matter what he said. As he watched Sanzo nurse his cup of tea and glower at nothing he decided to do the unthinkable: talk Hakkai into rooming with Goku so he could stay with Sanzo at the next inn short on space. Maybe then he could knock some sanity back into the jerk by his own means.

Oddly enough Gojyo didn't have to wait very long for circumstances to favor him; not even a week passed before the Ikkou found themselves once more in a standard two-room situation. It was the other part of the deal that would be harder to orchestrate.

Hakkai outright laughed when Gojyo first approached him. Gojyo wasn't overly surprised but couldn't stop the twinge of annoyance that gnawed at his good humor. Once the healer realized the kappa was serious however, the laughter died and his countenance hardened a few degrees. "Why?" He asked suspiciously.

Gojyo rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, laughing nervously. "...To give you a break?"

Hakkai almost scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "Gojyo."

The redhead sighed. "Well, maybe...maybe I can pull the stick out of his ass. I know you say you're makin' progress with figuring out the problem, but I'm not really seein' it and, well, maybe I can do it faster."

Something shifted in Hakkai's expression and he gave him an odd, appraising look, as if he were calculating something, before saying much to Gojyo's surprise, "Yes, I think that is a wonderful idea."

Gojyo blinked at him dumbly. "Huh?"

Hakkai smiled genuinally at Gojyo's flabbergasted expression. "I agree with you. You may be able to be more successful through your own means. Since this is your idea however," he added as he walked for the stairs to go up the rooms and move his belongings, "I think you should be the one to inform Sanzo of the switch."

"HEY!"

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Goku was extremely confused. "Not that I'm complainin' or that I don't like your company, 'Kai, but what gives?"

Hakkai blinked and looked up from where he was kneeling on the floor of the small bedroom, digging through his pack in search of his toothbrush. Hakuryuu was already asleep on the pillow of the spare bed. "It was just a simple room switch, Goku," Hakkai said with a smile.

Goku huffed slightly. Yeah right. Prior to Gojyo coming into what was to be his and Goku's room, looking somewhat flustered as he gathered his things and left only for Hakkai to enter with his things declaring they were rooming together for the night, Goku had heard a small bout of shouting from down the hall where he assumed Sanzo was. "But, why? If anyone ever rooms with Sanzo it's usually either you or me, and the only reason Gojyo's ever really done it before was when I was hurt bad and you needed to stay with me."

Hakkai's smile never left his face but Goku could have sworn he was starting to look a little nervous. But that was stupid. This was Hakkai. "Ah, a change of pace, I suppose."

"Yeah? Didn't sound like Sanzo was too happy 'bout it."

Hakkai laughed uneasily and rubbed the back of his neck as he stood, toothbrush in hand. "No, not quite. Although his ire was sparked more to there not being any point in switching than to the person who was taking my place, I think, and then he fell on the tact that he'd do better in the room by himself and that the both of us should leave him be..." he trailed off, "That was when he got particularly snappy."

"I'm still not buyin' this 'change of pace' crap 'Kai," Goku said evenly, leaning against the wall and hugging a pillow. "Whose idea was this?"

The fake smile faded from the healer's face leaving a considering look as green eyes studied Goku. "It was Gojyo's idea, actually."

Goku's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "Why? He got a death wish all of a sudden?"

Hakkai chuckled darkly. "Maybe. That was the first thing I wondered when I realized that he wasn't joking." He gazed at Goku again. "I suppose I'll level with you; we all know that Sanzo has not been himself lately."

"Nuh uh," Goku mumbled dully.

"Well, I've been trying to work out what the problem is, but it has not been very easy, as I'm sure you understand knowing Sanzo and the way he is."

"Yeah..."

"Gojyo has known of my attempts since the beginning, namely because I can't hide much from him, especially not when it's a matter in which he is so interested. I'm not really sure why, but earlier, after we ate, Gojyo approached me asking if he could try instead, because it didn't seem to him that my methods were getting anywhere...His reasoning didn't seem all that off base so...I decided to give him a chance, hence the impromptu room switch."

Goku gawked outright at the healer The hell? “...You’re joking.”

"I'm afraid not." Hakkai said with a genuine smile.

"Wow. He must really be sick of pot shots and name-calling if he's actually volunteering to bunk with Sanzo."

"Something like that," Hakkai murmured, something bordering on unsettling that Goku couldn't name glittering in green eyes.

I really think I'm missin' something here, he thought grudgingly.

"You must admit Sanzo's temper has progressed past that point quite some time ago though, to more violent terms," Hakkai added, breaking Goku's thoughts.

The monkey rubbed at a lump on the back of his head that was two days old, courtesy of the monk. "Got a point there," he agreed ruefully. "But what does Gojyo really think he can do? S'far as I know you're the best one at pickin' through Sanzo's head."

"That my friend," Hakkai said with a smile speaking of dark mischief at the prospective outcome of the night, "I would love to know."

Goku couldn't stop the grin from creeping across his face as well. "Bet ya five meat buns Gojyo's got a busted up face in the morning."

Hakkai laughed. "You're on."

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G oddamn but Gojyo was nervous. Really fucking nervous. Why was he so fucking nervous? This is stupid, he thought with a grunt, shifting his position as he sat on his bed and nursed a smoke. It's just the monk for cryin' out loud...I just have no idea what to do. Gojyo tried not to think about the last time he'd been alone with Sanzo, how he had ended their very...strange conversation abruptly by running away because...he shook his head. Stop it! He really didn't want to think about that. The kappa glanced covertly at the bathroom door behind which the blonde was hidden. It really didn't help to think about him being in the shower, either. No, that thought just got his heart pounding that much harder and forbidden images trying to pop into his head. Very, very dangerous images that he could nonetheless not deny himself the pleasure of in his twisted imagination. Thank god he can't read minds, I would be so screwed.

Gojyo jerked his head guiltily to the side towards the window a moment later as the doorknob of the bathroom door squeaked and turned, the door opening with a dull creak and a waft of steam. He had to work harder than he liked not to revert his stare away from the window again as Sanzo emerged in faded low-slung jeans and nothing more, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends and dripping every so often onto pale pink skin to run fleeting trails which Gojyo would have traded anything to follow with fingers and lips. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts!</</i>i> Gojyo bit his lip and once again rejoiced that Sanzo was not psychic.

The monk walked to the window giving Gojyo only the briefest of disgusted looks before gazing pensively at the sky, reaching blindly for his cigarettes on the nightstand beside him. Gojyo watched him openly now, as he felt was only fair considering he was standing right in front of him, and couldn't be surprised as Sanzo deftly lit the cigarette without looking, an easy, practiced gesture.

Sanzo stayed like that for nearly five minutes, smoking silently and seeing something Gojyo couldn't, an eerie, beautiful statue with a smoke burning at his lips. Gojyo hadn't known humans could be so absolutely still until he'd met Sanzo. Then again, there were a lot of impossibilities in Sanzo Gojyo had never imagined.

As if reawakening from a trance, Sanzo blinked and moved away, quiet and graceful, pale as the moonlight filtering through the clouds in the night sky. Gojyo continued to watch carefully as the blonde ground out his cigarette and sat on his bed, the springs groaning slightly under his weight as he shifted to stretch out across it and rolled as far away from the kappa as possible. Gojyo couldn't be sure if it was a conscious gesture or not, but he was certain that he had absolutely no chance of conversation without the threat of bodily mayhem. He was already lucky, he knew, to be in his current position -- in one piece, sharing the room with Sanzo. He still couldn't believe he'd even gotten that far.

...Maybe I should just leave him alone tonight and...gain his trust or something, so that nexttime he might not hate me quite as much and I'll have a better shot at getting something out of him...

Even as he thought it Gojyo knew it was a weak and pathetic excuse, but he honestly hated the thought of ruining the quiet calm the blonde had already granted him out of some kind of mutual need for peace. With a sigh and last glance at Sanzo's lean frame, Gojyo killed his smoke, rolled onto his stomach, and waited for sleep.

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It took Gojyo longer than it should have for him to realize that he was no longer asleep. It took far longer for him to discover the source of the sound that had broken through his dreams in the first place. Bleary-eyed and confused, Gojyo sat up, pushing tangled crimson hair out of his face as he peered across the room. Sanzo...?

The red head swung his feet over the end of the bed and sat up fully, staring. Sanzo lay on his back, legs twisted in his sheets, tense, his pale skin covered in sweat, bare chest rising in quick, painful bursts as the strange strangled noises that had invaded the kappa's slumber pushed past parted full lips. The expression twisting across his features seemed to be a cross between agony and...Gojyo had to swallow very hard, and try as he might could not pull his eyes from the most fantastic sight he'd ever laid eyes on. Someone has gotto be fucking with me...It just wasn't fair. Why? Why him? What had Gojyo possibly done to deserve such torture? Sure, he was no saint, not even close, but still --

Gojyo stood abruptly, his mental ranting interrupted when Sanzo let out a keening whine and tossed on the bed. Devastatingly sexy or not, the blonde looked distinctly distressed wrapped up in whatever exactly it was he was dreaming and it made Gojyo uneasy; the tension was tangible and nearly contagious as Sanzo curled his fingers into the sheets and fought to breathe.

Biting his lip, Gojyo crossed the space between their beds and hovered uncertainly next to Sanzo's bed before very carefully placing a knee on the side of the bed to lean over his quaking form. Didn't Hakkai say something about...nightmares? he asked himself feverishly, trying to assess the best way to fix the situation. Did he wake him up or just leave him alone? Sanzo whimpered again, a strained, strangled sound, as if it were not allowed to escape his throat, and arched against the mattress, almost touching the red head. Gojyo swallowed hard and had to remember why exactly it was he was leaning over a prone, flushed, breathless Sanzo. This does notlook like just some fucking nightmare! Yet as he thought it a clear note of anguish was clear across those features the red head had so come to covet.

He couldn't take it; couldn't take Sanzo's state, couldn't take the temptation that hit him somewhere dark and instinctual and sent sinful ideas spinning through his weakening control. It was with a tentative hand that Gojyo made to shake the monk awake.

If Gojyo had thought Sanzo would be hard to awaken, he'd thought wrong. From the moment his hand touched that white bare shoulder and Sanzo's name passed hesitant and quiet through his lips, violet eyes snapped abruptly open, Sanzo's body jolting beneath Gojyo with a force that startled him.

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...Violet eyes blinked slowly open at the soft touch of a hand against his face, eyes he hadn't known he'd shut, drawing him to look into the other's face to find something open and startling written there as soft words that Konzen could not understand, not from him, not from anyone, fell from his lips--and abruptly the image shifted and Sanzo was curtained by a sea of red that swung down about their faces in an intimate shroud as claret eyes blazed into his own, growing closer--

Sanzo jerked awake with a jolt, awareness assulting him like a slap in the face as his eyes flew open and adjusted to the dim light. He stared at Gojyo who was hovering over him and peering into his face with a look of concern. But that wasn't right; the scene was still there. Why was the scene still there? He was awake now, wasn't he? It didn't make any sense that Gojyo was still there, leaning over him and...and...Sanzo felt his heart stop as his brain finally caught up with itself.

Holy fuck...

He remembered everything.

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TBC

I promise ^.^ And yes, I'm mean to leave it like that, but...eh heh. That's the way it goes.
Comments make me write faster! I seriously love knowing what you guys think.