Author: Befanini
Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights whatsoever. For daydreaming purposes only. XD
Warning: Adult themes.
A/N: I just can't seem to stop writing about these two now! To tell you the truth, when I first started searching for Saiyuki fanfic I was shocked to discover them being paired off. But then it began to make a twisted sense… However I have to confess that I just don't see Hakkai with any of the other guys, to my mind he is the undying romantic forever carrying Kanan in his heart. And as for Goku – I see him as pure, period. Innocent. That is what makes his devotion to Sanzo so special. So I can't see him with any of the guys either. Which leaves… the incorrigible epitome of the red-blooded male and the icy, untouchable enigma. shiver Now that's a pairing that makes perfect sense! To me, strangely enough, I cannot envision these two with any other than themselves. Not even with women, and I'm one.XD It seems to me that only Gojyo can melt that ice, and only Sanzo can quench that fire. The fact that they're both male is immaterial. Ne?
This fic takes place at the beginning of the Journey, and takes a look at how the kappa developed his obsession for the monk.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Tonight was the night. He could barely contain his impatience, and he nearly choked because of it. Goku had to whack him on the back until he'd dislodged the spring roll from his windpipe.
"Hah! Serves you right, you greedy cockroach!" the kid cackled, in reference to Gojyo's having nipped up the last piece from the platter and popping it into his mouth.
"Are you all right, Gojyo?" asked Hakkai.
Gojyo grunted, and wheezed, glaring daggers at Goku, literally unable yet to cut back with a retort, but thinking up a good one. He'd already warned the damn kid not to call him that. They'd only been traveling together for four days, but if Goku wanted to get nasty, he'd play nasty. Stupid monkey… Yeah. That would do. That was perfect!
"'Ch."
Gojyo darted a glance at the source of the irritated sound, momentarily distracted. The enigmatic leader of their ikkou sat ramrod-straight in his chair, those incredible amethyst eyes hidden by silky fringes of golden hair, as he dipped his head to light a cigarette.
Shocking. That's what High Priest Genjyo Sanzo was. Since that day a month or so ago, when Gojyo had opened his door and first encountered those hard, cynical eyes and heard that gravelly, commanding, velvet voice demanding for Cho Gonou, he'd had an unholy fascination for the mysterious, aloof monk.
The highest-ranking monk in the world seemed determined to defy his title. Instead of the customary shaved head, he sported long-layered hair the color of burnished gold; instead of kind, gentle, wise eyes, he possessed staggering icy violet eyes that locked their secrets within. Those ancient eyes in that ageless face were enough to captivate any soul and make of them a helpless, willing prisoner.
On his shoulders were draped the holy sutras that he protected; and Gojyo had already seen the scriptures in action once, and it had awed the hell out of him. But the priest carried another, more practical – but no less mystical – weapon: a spirit-ascending gun that he wielded like a skilled, deadly marksman. Plus, Gojyo had found out in the past days, the high priest could match him cigarette for cigarette, beer for beer, sake for sake; and shockingly, bluff for bluff in poker.
He scared the hell out of Gojyo (and it took a lot to scare him)… and roused Gojyo's fascination unlike any he'd ever met before. For, as if the above attributes were not enough, Genjyo Sanzo also possessed the most arrestingly beautiful face Gojyo had ever seen – on a man or a woman. Rounding it all off was that delicate pale skin that seemed to be made of moonlight. Genjyo Sanzo was beyond beautiful. He was divine. And Gojyo, for once, meant that not flippantly, but reverently.
Gojyo considered himself all man, a straight guy; but then again he also liked to think of himself as a connoisseur of beauty, and Genjyo Sanzo certainly took top prize. He suspected his attraction to this particular man was a once-in-a-lifetime thing – he was certainly the only male Gojyo had ever been attracted to – and that in itself carried with it the dangerous potential of the attraction developing into a fatal obsession.
Gojyo was startled out of his reverie when the golden head lifted and purple eyes regarded him with a piercing stare. Gojyo finally turned and clapped Goku on the side of the head, spitting out his prized comeback. "Bakazaru!"
"Well, it's not too bad…" Hakkai looked around assessingly, giving a pleased nod, noting the four separate, relatively comfortable-looking beds. The soft-spoken healer was already taking on the role of general caretaker and peacemaker on their long journey to the west.
The first night of their journey, they'd camped out, the second night they'd stopped at an inn, getting separate rooms. That was when Sanzo had revealed another flabbergasting sight to Gojyo: a gold credit card, courtesy of the Sanbutsushin. The third night, last night, was when Gojyo had witnessed the scriptures in action, when their camp was attacked by demons affected by the negative energy wave. Tonight was their first time to share a room, all four of them together, as it was the only one available.
Tonight Gojyo would finally satisfy his curiosity about what was under those white robes.
Gojyo plopped down on his bed, lit a smoke and eyed Sanzo surreptitiously in the cot across his. Hakkai had assigned them the two beds nearest the window because of their smoking. The priest gave him a sharp glance, leaned back against the wall, legs stretched out on the bed, and – another surprise for Gojyo – reached into his robe and produced a pair of rimless spectacles. The priest put them on and propped up a newspaper, effectively cutting off Gojyo from his line of sight.
Gojyo grinned and shrugged. He linked his arms under his head, crossed his ankles, and looked around at the other two. Hakkai was just finishing unpacking, while Goku played with Hakuryu.
"Goku, bring Hakuryu over here so I can give her something to eat," called Hakkai.
"Sure!" answered the monkey happily. He poked his head into Hakkai's bag pack . "Um, Hakkai… you got anything there for me?"
Here it comes, Gojyo thought, rolling his eyes. He'd already discovered about the kid's insatiable appetite. Where did the monkey put it all?
"Harahetta…" Goku whined.
Hakkai blinked at Goku. For his part, he was still having trouble believing that the kid could be hungry again. The newspaper rustled in irritation, and Hakkai produced something to shut the monkey up, already familiar, at least, with their leader's short temper.
Goku munched happily on the dried fruit and nuts that Hakkai had intended to be Hakuryu's rations for a week. After a while, Goku tossed an almond at Sanzo's newspaper. The paper was lowered, a blonde eyebrow raised up questioningly.
"I'm bored… Let's play cards!" Goku declared. Sanzo shrugged, and the paper snapped shut as Sanzo stood up to join the two. He passed Gojyo's bed, and paused. Purple eyes turned Gojyo's way. "You joining us?"
So Gojyo had to wait.
After an hour or so, everybody was ready to call it a night. Thankfully, the room also had its own shower and bath, and they took turns, Gojyo electing to go last. He was sorely disappointed when Sanzo appeared from the bathroom with wet hair but with the priestly robes still on. Dammit, didn't monks wear pajamas to bed? Better yet, pajama bottoms alone… or maybe silk boxers. Phooey. Maybe they were like the Catholic nuns who always had to wear their habits. Gonou – or Hakkai – had told him stories about his childhood at the orphanage. Ah hell.
Gojyo decided that if he wasn't going to get the pleasure of seeing Sanzo's skin, that perhaps he'd flash his own tan at the monk, and maybe provoke a response from him – any response, though he'd prefer not to feel the sting of that infernal harisen that he was quickly getting acquainted with and learning to detest heartily.
But when he stepped out of the bathroom, he stumbled; and cursed his luck again, finding the room in total darkness, the others having gone to sleep. Shrugging resignedly, he groped his way to his cot… happened to glance up yearningly in the direction of the priest's bed, and promptly had his breath knocked out of him.
Sanzo was sitting opposite him in the lotus position, his blonde head bowed down, eyes closed, as he meditated. The priestly robe had been undone and was pooled at his waist in soft folds on his bed. And on top… on top, the monk was wearing the sexiest undergarment Gojyo had ever seen, black, skintight, defining the monk's flat abdomen, sleek muscles and delicate collarbones, ending in the turtleneck that was all that Gojyo had seen prior to now.
Taut, well-muscled shoulders and arms ended in black arm gloves that extended until the monk's third fingers. He'd always wondered at those strange gloves Sanzo was wearing, and now he knew. There was not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere.
And the whole – golden hair, silken skin the color and texture of fine white marble, snowy robes and skintight black fabric that contrasted and highlighted that luminous skin – was illuminated in an eerie, ethereal glow by the moonshine coming from the window. It seemed that the red chakra on the monk's forehead glowed.
"What are you staring at?"
Gojyo jumped guiltily. "Ah… I was just wondering if you had a spare cigarette. I ran out," he improvised swiftly.
"'Ch."
Gojyo was becoming familiar with that irritated noise as well. Sanzo slowly unfolded his limbs while Gojyo watched shamelessly, forgetting to breathe, mesmerized at the graceful, lithe way that Sanzo moved. Feral. Feline. Totally unselfconscious.
Those purple eyes opened and stared hard into Gojyo's face. Gojyo didn't know what he was looking for, and kept his face carefully blank. Yes, he did know. Sanzo was looking for his bald-faced, blatant lie.
Finally, Sanzo dropped his stare with a bored sniff, reached into a fold of his robes and tossed a half-empty pack of smokes on Gojyo's bed.
"Keep it."
Gojyo felt like a convict who had just been reprieved. He turned and eased himself down into his cot, never taking his eyes off Sanzo as the priest laid down on his side, presenting his long, lean back to Gojyo. Gojyo lit a smoke absently, prayed silently, and cursed inwardly when his prayers went unanswered as Sanzo reached down to pull the covers up firmly to his chin… leaving Gojyo with only a golden, moonlit head to stare at and admire and dream about.
-owari-
Japanese mini-glossary:
Bakazaru: Stupid monkey
Sanbutsushin: The Three Sages
Harahetta: I'm hungry
Harisen: Paper fan