Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Screwed ❯ The Anti-Lovers ( Chapter 1 )

I do not own Saiyuki and made no money writing this.

 

++

 

 

 

He does the same thing, every morning. It makes no difference if it's a bed or sand. He sits up, lights a cigarette, then elbows the lump behind him. Hard. "Here." Sanzo will drop another cigarette on the lump, and wait for that lump to sit up and pop that thing in his mouth. The lump's name is Sha Gojyo. "Smoke up, get up and get going." Sanzo will always say. Then he will lean forward to grab some hair, a shirt, his face- whatever- and press his lit cigarette tip to that other unlit end.

 

This is their morning kiss.

 

One particular morning the ritual was performed in a narrow cot between sweaty sheets. The desert sun was already blazing through the bedside window. Sanzo slipped out, naked for only a moment.

 

"You get dressed faster than anyone I ever fucked."

 

"You are disgusting." Sanzo didn't bother to look up as he pulled the robes over his shoulders.

 

"You didn't complain about that, last night."

 

Sanzo took a long drag before crushing his cigarette out. "So you're good at one thing." He went to the door. "Barely."

 

Gojyo stared at the door long after Sanzo left.

 

++

 

"Of course I know. We both know." Hakkai packed the last of their food. "I think we need to get more cigarettes. You two have practically become chain smokers."

 

Gojyo paced the room. The room he was supposed to have shared with Hakkai that night. But lately he'd been playing switch with Goku. Telling the little monkey there was food to be had in Hakkai's bags, in an inn pantry, up some chipmunk's butt. It was enough to do the job. "Well... It just happened."

 

"Maybe you wouldn't smoke as much if you weren't trying to have a love affair with an angry monk?" Hakkai took it out of his mouth, took a drag for himself, then ground it out in the ashtray on the rickety nightstand. "I'm surprised you thought it was a secret. Goku thinks you're corrupting his precious Sanzo with- what did he call it? Oh, yes! - your `pervert buttsex.'"

 

He coughed. "Pervert buttsex?"

 

"And alot more. Seems that our little boy is growing up." Hakkai checked some hidden compartment in the duffel. "Ah! So you two didn't find the extra carton. Apparently you don't smoke while you're busy."

 

"So, you two knew. Pretty weird, huh?"

 

Hakkai sighed. "Gojyo, why are we talking about this? Clearly you want to talk to Sanzo."

 

"Talk to goldilocks?" He snorted. "Are you serious?"

 

"Instead of asking me what I think, ask him what he thinks."

 

“I know what he thinks. He thinks...” He frowned.

 

"And they say there's no hope for you!"

 

“Oh, come on. You've got to admit, it's weird, right? I mean, the guy is supposed to hate all that stuff. But I swear to you, he is...”

 

“Gojyo,” Hakkai crossed his arms, “Just talk to him.”

 

“Talk to him. Like that's so easy.”

 

“And getting him to have sex was easy?”

 

“Easier than you'd think.”

 

++

 

Gojyo tried. And his efforts were not without temptation. The right kind, the kind he could offer in daylight. He offered the bastard a beer before they hit the road.

 

"No."

 

Offered him ganja as they stood together and pissed into a sand pit during a pit stop.

 

"No."

 

But then he realized the guy was too smart for that. Gojyo had to get tough. So he cornered him in the next town, down a back alley, where Sanzo ducked to avoid some dribbling priest.

 

"What the fuck do you keep bothering me for?"

 

Gojyo kicked a pop can. It flew up and into the air. And fell between them.

 

Sanzo snorted. "Are you trying to tell me you want to join some kick-the-can league?"

 

Gojyo leaned against the brick wall. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then he smiled. "You're a funny guy, you know that?"

 

"Yeah. The life of the party. Hilarious."

 

"Listen, um.... You and me, at night. What do you think about it?"

 

Sanzo kicks the can. It flies up in the air. It lands in exactly the same spot. "I don't. Is that all you wanted to ask me?"

 

Gojyo lit a cigarette. He smiled and shrugged. He turned and strolled back into that dusty village main street filled with nameless people. "Bullshit," he muttered under his breath.

 

++

 

How did this come to be? How did he and he become these two anti-lovers? Raw and hungry by night, and so cool by day. The story is like any other story about opposing wills. Opposition is complimentary, as it will be seen.

 

It started at a bar in a town whose name is unimportant. There they sat, the only two patrons left. Even the barmaster was gone, paid off with an ungodly sum from a godly credit card, too tired to question good fortune and too poor to say no.

 

The soon-to-bes were at war. A drinking war. It was an ongoing war to see who could hold their liquor best. That night the battlefield was littered with casualties: bottles and cans and shot glasses, all left for dead.

 

Sanzo threw back a gulp of something distilled from the depths of hell. And sneered as he swallowed it down. "Now you."

 

Gojyo grabbed the bottle and did the same. Licked his lips when he was done. Then took another swallow. Twice as long. "Mother's milk."

 

"More like your Daddy's."

 

"You would know, baldie." Gojyo slid the bottle across the table. Cans fell to the floor in it's wake.

 

"And only you would go there." Sanzo looked right at him as he drank. Deeply, as if he were a man dying of thirst. "Now you."

 

He handed it back. In a drunken fumble the bottle wobbled. Each overcompensated with a lunge forward, just enough for their fingers to touch. They both pulled back, but too much. The bottle slipped again and it crashed to the floor.

 

"Whoa." Gojyo lit a cigarette. "Guess you didn't wanna see me drink you under the table after all."

 

"Your fault. Get another."

 

"That was it." Gojyo kicked the broken bits. "Whole bar's tapped out."

 

Sanzo cursed with the fluency only a monk could muster. After all, what is a  curse? It's just an obscene prayer. "May as well go to sleep. Or go find a whore, in your case." He rolled his eyes. "You and your whores."

 

Gojyo was about to get up. But that last thing Sanzo said stopped him. "Jealous?"

 

Sanzo grabbed his empty cigarette pack, crushed it and threw it across the room. "Of what? You'd fuck a granny given half a chance."

 

"A hot granny, sure."

 

"Oh, just shut up." Sanzo slammed his hands on the table as he got up. It shook. He shook. And he stumbled, ever so slightly away. "We leave at sunrise."

 

Gojyo watched as he walked away. Watched the sway of Sanzo's robe. The sway of Sanzo's walk. The sway is Sanzo. He did sway.

 

And when Gojyo got up, he was swaying, too.

 

The next night, in another no-name town, after another underwhelming scuttle with some nondescript demon, the local innkeeper let them stay for free. Let them eat for free. Goku gorged. Hakkai stored supplies. And those two resumed their battle.

 

They made sure their stock was reinforced.

 

"This time you won't make it." Gojyo winked at him. Blew a kiss, then laughed at Sanzo's sneer. "Maybe I'll have time for one of those whores your obsessed with counting."

 

Sanzo sucked down an entire beer can. “You wish.”

 

Gojyo pulled the tab off another, nodded at Sanzo's respectable burp, and matched him gulp fpr gulp. His burp was louder. “You know what I did last night?”

 

“About two strokes?” Sanzo took the cigarette out of Gojyo's hand.

 

“You really spend to much time imagining what I do, goldilocks. No. I went to bed alone.”

 

Sanzo put his next can down. One eyebrow went up and he took a long drag of that cigarette. “Now there's a first.”

 

“Don't look so surprised. I don't always get laid.”

 

“More drinking. Less talking.” And he led by example. “Now you.”

 

“Hey, I'm talking man to man, here. Or, well, man to monk. I don't mind the rep, believe me. But come on. All the time? A guy's gotta have a night off every once in a while.”

 

“I said drink.”

 

Sanzo watched Gojyo. Gojyo watched as he watched. Watched as he gulped the frothy stuff down. Watched him watching him as he wiped the foam from his mouth. “So,” he looked around the empty bar. “Alone again, huh?”

 

“I'm getting the whiskey.” Sanzo got up and went behind the bar. “That damned beer is putting you on some confessional tangent.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

“And quiet yourself.” He came back with a very large, very dusty bottle. “I am not here to listen to you pour your heart out.”

 

“Some monk.”

 

“Some pervert.” Sanzo twisted the cap and drank. “Now you.”

 

Gojyo drank. “You.”

 

Then Sanzo.

 

Then Gojyo.

 

And Sanzo and Gojyo.

 

They drank silently, watching each other in an uneasy duel, waiting for the other to break that silence. Neither did. They continued drinking, and the words distilled in their minds as each became a blurry buzzing image to the other.

 

Eventually they found a bottle, a green bottle, the likes of which they'd never tasted. They each made a face when they tried it. And another when they had finished. Whatever it was, it was more than just liquor.

 

It made them tired. It made them forget their battle. Cigarettes burned, forgotten at their fingertips. They just stared at each other, feeling their feet root into the dirt floor and their heads expand like balloons.

 

Somehow they slid their way across the floor, staggering through the never-ending hallway, catching each other, sometimes successfully, sometimes not, once tumbling together. They rolled toward some room. An empty room. It did not mater if it was theirs or not. They were desperate for the first time in their lives, because the alcohol had won.

 

They fell in the cot, groaning as the world spun.

 

++

 

Sanzo woke up with a pounding head and a bladder aching for relief. “Shit.” He'd slept in his robes. He hated sleeping in them, they always made him sweat. But not this much. No. Then he woke up he felt it. An arm. Around his waist. A leg, thrown over his hip. A hard on, a huge, throbbing hard on, was pressing up against him. “What the fuck?”

 

He shot out of bed, gun in hand, ready to fire.

 

“Whoa, princess...” Gojyo poked his head out from under the sheet. “Chill the fuck out!”

 

Sanzo cocked the gun.

 

Gojyo stumbled out, hands over his head, shirtless, groggy and hung over. “Hey, it's just me. Chill.”

 

Sanzo motioned toward the door. “Get out.”

 

“Lemme get my shirt?”

 

“I said get the fuck out before I blow your dick off!”

 

And he did. Sans shirt.

 

++

 

Gojyo smoked two packs on the road. One cigarette after another. He didn't have a word to say when Goku started in on him. Not even when the kid called him a pervert. Or a manwhore. He kept watching Sanzo's reflection in the side door mirror. The guy looked pissed. Seriously pissed.

 

Sanzo smoked even more. It was a nonstop chain of cigarettes, the next lit by the last. Butts littered the desert sand. The world was his ashtray and he did not want. He kept glaring back at Gojyo, hating his stare. Hating his face. Wanting to kick it in. To punch it out. To make him stop staring at him.

 

Staring through him.

 

“My, you two are quiet.” Hakkai smiled his usual smile.

 

“Too quiet.” Goku waved a hand in front of Gojyo's face. “What's the matter, didn't get laid last night?”

 

“Shut up!” Both Gojyo and Sanzo hollered. It was the only thing they said on the long day's journey to nowhere.

 

The evening was no better. There was no nameless town. There were no countless bottles, no war to wage. Nothing but canned food, a handful of smokes, and the Jeep to sleep in. They watched the sun set in front of them. Only Goku and Hakkai seemed to follow suit and go to sleep.

 

Sanzo let down his seat. It squashed Gojyo's legs. "Hey, precious! Pull up a little."

 

He didn't. "Go to sleep."

 

"How? My legs are going numb."

 

"Bullshit. Close your eyes and shut up."

 

Gojyo shook the headrest. "Lemme out, then."

 

"Nothing's stopping you."

 

"You are! Sit up so I can get out. Then you can lay back and pretend not to jerk off."

 

Sanzo sat up, without pulling the seat back, and glared. Moonlight made him look more like a murderer than a monk. "You sound like you got a problem, you fucking pervert. What're you gonna do about it?"

 

Gojyo's adrenalin shot through every vein in his body. "Lemme out and I'll show you."

 

The seat went up. Those two jumped over the doors. The wind blew sand all around them as they stood there, hands fisted, ready for action.  

 

Gojyo threw a punch, Sanzo blocked, then came back with an undercut fit to bring a man to his knees. But a half demon? Not a chance. Gojyo came back for him, over and over until he finally landed one right into Sanzo's mouth. But he threw so hard they both fell back into a dune and tumbled down, down down into a pit.

 

Gojyo was on top of him, straddling him, forcing his hands above his head. "Give up."

 

Sanzo spat blood in his face.

 

Gojyo licked off what landed on his mouth. "I said: Give. Up."

 

"No!" Sanzo kicked, and Gojyo gasped as he fell forward.

 

Their mouths collided. The world shifted as they continued the fight with tongues and teeth. Blood mingled. Hands tore, scrambled and punched. Legs tangled and kicked as they rolled back and forth.

 

Then they shoved each other away instantly. Simultaneously. One stared at the other, panting. Neither said a word. Then they came at each other, snarling like a couple of wild animals in heat.

 

++

 

“That was some night.” Hakkai adjusted his rear view mirror.

 

Goku bit into his bean bun. “Yeah. I slept like a baby.”

 

“You are a baby,” Gojyo grumbled.

 

“Take it back.”

 

Gojyo shrugged. “Wake me up when we get... wherever we're going.”

 

Hakkai's eyebrow went up. And Sanzo? He was already asleep, with the seat raised up. “Some night.” Hakkai began to hum a little tune. Goku kept eating. And those two did sleep, all day long.

 

But they were awake all night.

 

++

 

They had settled into a strange routine. At night, in the dark, when they were sure no one was aware, they would tangle themselves up into each other. Collide, snarl, and fight to dominate each other. Sometimes Sanzo would win. Once he had drawn his gun and made him suck on the end while he pounded away at Gojyo. Another time, Gojyo pinned him against a wall and took him right there, dry and hard. So hard the monk would walk with a slight limp the next day. Whatever the situation, it was always rough. Always brutal. Always covert.

 

And always, they thought, dirty little secret.

 

But it wasn't, thought Gojyo. The real secret was the fact that it wasn't. And there were opinions about it. And it bothered Gojyo, because he didn't know the opinion that mattered the most to him.

 

Shit.

 

As Hakkai drove out of yet another no name town, humming that strange little tune, Gojyo could feel Goku watching him. Could feel the kid's imagination whirl, or was he recalling something he saw? Something he wasn't meant to see?

 

“What are you looking at?”

 

“A big pervert.”