jedishampoo | Fic: Un-Communication, Hakkai/Gojyo, NSFW

Title: Un-Communication
Author:

jedishampoo
Rating: NC-l7
Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Summary: They’d done it before, right? So what was the problem?
Author’s Notes: UST, light angst, sex. Despite the summary, still sort of a “first-time” fic. For

sharpeslass, who wrote me an 83 and requested 585 in return. Hope you like it, dear, ‘cause I doubt it’s happening again (can't believe I finally finished this thing). ;) Beta’ed by same

sharpeslass. 9600+ words.

It should have been one of those relaxing evenings, the kind where they ate some hot food, drank some good booze and enjoyed the glowing aftermath of assassins well-killed. Instead, Gojyo could tell, it was gonna be one of those nights-- the other kind. The group high from earlier was gone, choked dead by the black clouds overhead, and not even beer and food could resuscitate it. No matter that Hakkai had floored the gas just to get them to the inn before it rained, and Jeep was passed out, exhausted, under the table.

Gojyo alone still felt pretty good, was still riding that high. His plans for the evening included drinking and, hopefully, getting laid. The inn was quiet-- only the bravest townspeople had ventured out into what promised to be a nasty thunderstorm-- but the beer was tasty, and the sparse crowd still held options for companionship. There was the waitress: black-haired, medium height, trim, not bad at all as far as inn-waitresses were concerned. Gojyo, however, was personally leaning toward the curvier, shorter brunette standing in the kitchen door with her hand on her hip. Her smirking pink lips and dark brown eyes were definitely flashing him a clear come-hither.

Gojyo glanced back at the glum faces around his own table. He looked at Hakkai, who was fighting the glum but just barely, lips held in a straight line by what looked like sheer force of will. Hakkai’s lips as he sipped at his beer were... interesting, Gojyo decided. Thin. He wondered how they’d felt when they’d--

BOOM!

The crack of thunder made everyone jump, Gojyo included. It was followed by a couple seconds of absolute silence and then scattered, low laughter while everyone around them got the joke, that they’d been scared by something as stupid as thunder, something that happened all the time.

It happened too regularly for Gojyo. He’d used to like the rain. But after a year on the road with the same people, it was taking its toll on Gojyo’s soul, pissing him off as much as it did them. Sanzo would only get bitchier, Goku more gloomy because Sanzo had gone off his feed, and Hakkai would only get more stretched and thin-- he already was; Gojyo could tell by the way he slowly, way more slowly than was necessary, pulled up his napkin and dabbed at his lips. Hakkai did have great hands. Refined-looking, though the dude was stronger than he looked, could kill with those long, slender fingers, clean and manicured like a woman’s. Gojyo wondered what Hakkai had done with his hands when they’d--

It drove Gojyo nuts that he couldn’t remember, and no one talked about it, or anything. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t fair.

Hakkai was looking back at him, uncovered green eye unreadable over his beer, and Gojyo tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring, and tried not to wonder if Hakkai had seen him staring. Goku shoved a heap of muu-shuu into his mouth, chowing as if hoping to relish his dinner with as much gusto as possible before the rain started. Sanzo hunched down another inch or two over his rice.

BOOM.

Gojyo lit a cigarette with fingers that didn’t shake at all.

“Still can’t get over those clones,” he said, and blew out a cloud of smoke. Just like he couldn’t help blabbering, he couldn’t help feeling a small, silent glee at the three completely different looks turned his way.

“They were rather sophisticated,” Hakkai said with an attempt at interest, and folded his napkin on the table with his long, slender fingers. Not-talking or whatever, Hakkai was still the best-ever friend, man, had Gojyo’s back without even being asked.

“Scary,” Goku mumbled from around a gaping mouthful of pork and cabbage.

They all stared at Sanzo. Sanzo didn’t say anything. Grumpy bastard monk just looked down at his rice. Gojyo continued to glare at his blond head, anyway.

“Scary,” Goku said again.

Sanzo mumbled something in the direction of his food.

“What was that?” Gojyo said, not in the mood to tippy-toe around the monk, but definitely in the mood to distract himself from the other thing. Even though Hakkai was looking at him, giving him that don’t talk to Sanzo, please, look.

“I said, I’m surprised you didn’t try to take yours somewhere and fuck it,” Sanzo said, and dropped his chopsticks on the table.

“Hey, screw you--”

“Ha-ha!” Hakkai’s lips had disappeared into his smile. “Who knows what might have happened if the rest of us hadn’t been there?”

Hakkai had totally turned on him. Gojyo and Goku stared. Sanzo choked, and Gojyo thought he might be laughing. Gojyo found his voice.

“Hey, Hakkai. That was-- Man--” Uncalled for, Gojyo wanted to say, but stopped himself. Just ‘cause he wanted to shake things up didn’t mean he wanted to start something with Hakkai, specifically. He turned instead to Sanzo. “You’re the one’s gotta fuck yourself, Monk. Me, I got plenty of other options.”

Gojyo couldn’t see Sanzo’s face under his shaggy hair, but his hand was digging around inside his robes. “It’s annoying, wondering who’s next in line for your special brand of torture,” Sanzo said.

“Torture?” None of it was Gojyo’s fault, really. The first time it had happened, he’d been possessed by that incubus youkai-- and that had been more than a month ago. Maybe two. The only things Hakkai would say about the whole mess were that one, he hadn’t been permanently injured, and two, that he’d rather enjoyed killing that particular assassin.

Gojyo, however, remembered exactly nothing about the first time he’d had sex with his best friend. Still, surely it hadn’t been torture. And no one would talk, really talk, about it. Gojyo was bitter. “Ain’t ever heard anyone complain.”

“Just shut up,” Sanzo said.

“Well, Gojyo, you would hardly know if they had,” Hakkai added, pulling his mug of beer to his mouth to drink, or maybe to hide whatever expression he was wearing.

Goku didn’t say a word. He didn’t dare.

What was left of Gojyo’s good mood shattered. He stubbed out his smoke with deliberate jabs. Several retorts danced through his brain, but none of them seemed worth it. He looked at Hakkai, and remembered, and not-remembered. “That isn’t true,” he mumbled.

“Tch,” Sanzo said. His napkin joined his chopsticks on the table. “Just take it to your room, or whatever. I’m not in the mood.”

“Don’t worry, Sanzo. There aren’t any egg-rolls...” Hakkai said. He was on a roll. It was scary.

The next and last time they’d done it, a little over a week ago, it had been because of those goddamned drugged egg-rolls. Apparently Lirin had stolen Yaone’s special cache of aphrodisiac super-mojo-powder and had sprinkled some on the Sanzo party’s take-out dinner.

Turned out the mickey had been meant for Sanzo, but Sanzo had been more interested in drinking than eating. The antidote hadn’t worked as well as hoped and Miss Yaone had been really apologetic afterwards; Gojyo did remember that. Yet again, however, the rest of it was a blur of bitter nothing. He’d eaten some dinner, drunk some beer and woken up sore as hell and tied to one of the beds in a double, Goku snoring on the other side of the room. Hakkai claimed he really couldn’t remember much, either, before he’d woken tied to a bed in Sanzo’s room.

“Geeze, man,” Gojyo said, hurt. He downed his beer and picked up another.

“Fuck it. I’m getting the hell out of there. Assholes.” Sanzo scraped his chair back and stomped off in the direction of the stairs, mumbling something that sounded like I’ll shoot you both and be done with the whole fucking quest and fuck Gyumaoh and the fucking Sanbutsushin and blah, blah, fuckity blah.

Goku looked at Hakkai and Gojyo, eyes wide. “Guess I better go, too.” He grabbed the last few meat-buns to keep Gojyo from finishing them. “If I come up later an’ wake him, he’ll be pissed.”

“Good night, Goku,” Hakkai said, and smiled again. His lips had reappeared for Goku, but when he turned to look at Gojyo, they were gone again.

Gojyo felt as if he was constantly being reminded in an oblique way of something that he couldn’t remember and that nobody would discuss. It was really fucking annoying. Even Hakkai had been different, lately. Gojyo wondered when they’d stopped being able to talk about things. He wondered when they’d stopped talking without talking. He didn’t think he’d said that last aloud, until Hakkai answered.

“You haven’t asked me anything, Gojyo.”

Gojyo drank, wiped his lips, didn’t look at Hakkai. “Maybe ‘cause I don’t know what to ask.”

He did know. Are you pissed at me? Was it good? What did it feel like? No way in hell could he ask those things aloud. He hoped he hadn’t. The tavern was taking on a lovely, golden, fire-fed haze, while the rain pounded on the roof like a jug-band.

“Water under the bridge. Hazards of the journey,” Hakkai said. He set his elbows on the table and looked at Gojyo.

“What?”

Hakkai sighed, a little. “Those were your words, if I recall?”

“Suppose,” Gojyo said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. What’s a little unplanned sex between friends? Hadn’t he also said that, as a joke? Hakkai had laughed, then. What had changed in the days since? Could Gojyo ask that question? He stared at the Adam’s apple in Hakkai’s throat, watched how it moved up and down when he spoke, when he swallowed. Hakkai with his throat in the air, the top of his head buried in the grass, telling Gojyo in a breathless whisper that it was okay, Gojyo knowing it was okay, because Hakkai was there--

Gojyo didn’t know anymore if that was his own memory, or some half-baked fantasy born during lonely nights of dick-slapping. He would cling to it nonetheless, while he fucked that cute little cook who was swinging her hips at him right that very moment--

Hakkai turned his head, followed Gojyo’s gaze across the room. He sighed a little more.

“You can always ask, Gojyo,” he said.

Gojyo wasn’t sure what he was supposed to ask. “Thanks, man,” he said, and winked at the girl.

Hakkai narrowed his visible eye. “I’m going up to bed. You should get some rest. We have more than two days of driving before we reach the next town.”

“Nah,” Gojyo said.

“Fine,” Hakkai said. “Good night.” He bent under the table to retrieve Jeep, and then he, too, was gone.

Turned out the cook didn’t get off until midnight. Gojyo waited, and drank some more: cold, cold beer that felt good and smooth on his itchy throat, warm in his stomach, gave his fingertips that pleasant muzzy feeling. He’d never had any complaints. He’d never be able to get it up if he kept drinking. Screw it, he didn’t need to get it up to make a woman happy.

***

Hakkai removed his day-clothes, folded them neatly and laid them on an end-table. He dressed in his night-shirt and sleep-pants and smoothed a few wrinkles against the inevitable. He was rather annoyed with himself. He knew he was intelligent and considered himself a rational being perhaps ninety-seven percent of the time, but something as natural, unstoppable and frequent as water falling from the sky put him into a dour mood. Being angry at himself for being susceptible to such an intangible, normal thing made it even worse, made him feel powerless over his own mind.

Rain held so many memories: why did he always think about one night? He wondered if Sanzo felt the same way-- if Sanzo also wanted to beat his fists against the rain, knowing it would never know he’d done so, and would never change for him. Of course, Hakkai considered Sanzo rather irrational much of the time, and it was unlikely he’d find the solidarity he sought.

Jeep flapped half-heartedly into the bathroom and curled up in the sink.

“Am I such bad company?” Hakkai asked the little white dragon.

Jeep emitted a tired “kyuuu,” letting Hakkai know that no, he was just in the mood to lie in the sink, and that it was pretty comfortable.

Hakkai brushed his teeth in the bathtub. He made sure to drain away all the foam and spit, and wondered why anything resembling closeness should be so uncomfortable. On e could seek it desperately and then run in the other direction when it became too real. He was not alone in that feeling, obviously; every step forward they took into each others’ confidence-- all of them-- meant two larger steps back in real understanding. The events of that very day provided a perfect example: they could believe for half an hour, an hour at most, that they were better men than they’d been the day before, and then they’d tumble crown-over-tail backwards down the hill. Perhaps Sisyphus himself had never really wanted to reach his goal.

In all fairness, Hakkai realized that he should amend even his private ruminations: Goku was the exception. Hakkai often envied Goku’s innocent trust and belief in the goodness of people. Loss of that couldn’t be a sign of age, for technically, Goku was twenty-three and a half times older than any of them. And Gonou had never trusted anyone except his own blood. Look where that had gotten him.

Hakkai lay down and reached to turn off the light, then slid out of bed again and opened the window a few inches. That way he could force himself to hear the rain as he slept, force himself, if need be, to find the sound as soothing as most normal people seemed to find it. He lay down again and willed the plop-plink-plops into a pleasant melody. He tried not to think of Gojyo and the rather attractive girl in the kitchen.

Hazards of the journey? Hazards of getting too close, most likely.

The first thump at the door woke him and made his heart race, but when the door flew open, he calmed. It was unmistakably Gojyo, his footsteps and the tobacco-rasp of his breathing. Hakkai looked at the clock. It was only half-past midnight-- odd. Gojyo was not the type to skip out on a conquest so early.

Or perhaps he was. Hakkai heard a crack of flesh and bone on wood, and half-whispered Shit! , and thumbed on the lamp. Gojyo was propping himself on the back of a chair, and smiling that heart-stopping, white-toothed, wide grin of his.

“Yo! Hak-kai,” Gojyo slurred. “Glad you’re up. Was thinking.”

“Then I’m glad I am awake as well,” Hakkai told him, not entirely lying.

“Yeah.” Gojyo took a moment or two to find his balance before he released the chair. He appeared to be trying to decide whether or not he could make it to the bed without falling over. He stared at the floor for a few moments, swaying in a gentle circle.

“I thought you’d be-- ah, busy?” Hakkai ventured.

“Eh. That was a clusterfuck. Turns out Shenrin’s the innkeeper’s nephew’s fiancée or somethin’,” Gojyo said, and took a few tentative steps forward without chair-support. “And he saw us... uh. Talkin’, and dove in for the cock-block and well, there’s no nookie for me. Not with her...”

Gojyo sat-- or rather plopped-- not on his own bed, but next to Hakkai on his. His hair was mussed. Hakkai wondered whose fingers had set it in such disarray.

“You shaid-- you said I could ask, right?” Gojyo continued.

Hakkai looked at Gojyo and wondered if he should toss himself down the hill, or just let it happen naturally.

“You said I could ask,” Gojyo continued. “And I was thinkin’, whatsh the question?”

“Yes?” Hakkai encouraged, but only because drunks liked that sort of thing.

“Do you wanna?”

“What?” Hakkai looked at Gojyo’s earnest gaze, saw his eyes, dark blood-red in the dim light. His heart stopped for a second, did that THUMP-- thumpthumpthump thing that he found so disturbing, sometimes. No... He swallowed, watched the way Gojyo was staring at his throat. Thought about the desperate press of Gojyo’s-- but not really Gojyo’s lips there. “Gojyo. Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

“I dunno.”

“You should get some sleep,” Hakkai whispered.

“Hakkai...” Gojyo looked down at his own fingers, playing a drum-beat on the tops of his thighs.

Hakkai stifled a sigh and glanced away. Was the door locked? Was rain coming in the window, and if so, would it warp the cheap furniture in this room? Would--

Suddenly he felt Gojyo’s fingers, which were not on his lap where they should be but were clumsily squeezing Hakkai’s shoulders, hard, and tasted Gojyo’s smoke-and-beer breath and tongue in his mouth. It took him a few seconds to find Gojyo’s shoulders and shove him away-- shock, of course. Gojyo wasn’t going to let go; he pulled at the collar of Hakkai’s shirt, knuckles brushing his collarbone. Hakkai’s body could appreciate that even as his mind rebelled at the ugly, wrong situation. Even disgusting and drunk Gojyo had too much charisma; raw and bare like powder spilled from a cannon, the barest hint of warmth ready to set it off.

“Gojyo-- Gojyo." Hakkai pushed his friend to arms’ length and shook him a little, and maybe squeezed his shoulders a bit harder than was necessary, but he had to get Gojyo’s eyes focused on his instead of on his lips, where they seemed fixated, like Gojyo knew that Hakkai could still taste tobacco and beer and Gojyo. “Gojyo. Look at me. Damn you.”

“Thought you did, too,” Gojyo mumbled and keeled forward again, eyes on his target. “Know you did.”

Hakkai stood, yanked Gojyo upright with him, and shoved Gojyo hard enough to send him stumbling backwards into the bedside table. The lamp fell over and the crash seemed to wake Gojyo at last, forcing him to meet Hakkai’s gaze. Behind the lust-and-alcohol film covering his eyes, Gojyo was confused.

“When people want something, the rest of the world stops, doesn’t it?” Hakkai said.

Gojyo shook his head as if to clear it. “Thought about it and everything,” he said, now looking everywhere but at Hakkai.

“You’ve gotten the wrong idea,” Hakkai said, then. He knew it was harsh, but didn’t care, because without the distraction of Gojyo’s too-intimate touch he was growing angrier and angrier: what kind of idiot thought that a drunken pass was an acceptable solution to anything? Better that Gojyo should do that sort of thing to Sanzo; such callous behavior deserved a punch, and Hakkai felt weak for being too nice, for not being able to deliver what was necessary.

“Thought it would make everythin’ better. Shit, I’m stupid.”

Once it had been spewed a little, Hakkai felt his anger begin to drain away. “Gojyo--"

“Be right back... I gotta take a piss.” Gojyo stumbled past Hakkai and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Hakkai straightened the lamp, sat on the bed and listened to Gojyo thumping about and slapping the walls, looking for the light. Ow! What the hell are you doing in the sink? came Gojyo’s voice, muffled by the door, and Hakkai felt like laughing. He resisted: it wouldn’t have been a happy laugh, because ridicule was not a happy state of mind.

Maybe Gojyo would forget. No, Gojyo always remembered. He was that rare and frightening breed-- a rational irrational drunk. Despite Hakkai’s anger, he felt a humorous sort of fondness. He stretched himself out on the bed and closed his eyes, resisting the urge to pull his covers over his face like a child. He told himself that he’d said what he needed to say, and being over-emotional would do neither of them any good. It was over. Water under the bridge. Like everything else.

After a few minutes Gojyo emerged from the bathroom. Hakkai watched him from under his nearly-closed eyelids: Gojyo’s face was wet, his hair sticking to his cheeks. He glanced in Hakkai’s direction and then fell face-down onto his own bed. Hakkai reached over and flipped off the lamp.

“I felt bad about not rememberin’,” Gojyo said, probably into his pillow.

“It wasn’t you,” Hakkai told him.

***

Gojyo was dragged from sleep by the sound of a sideways fist thumping on a door. Holy hell, but his head hurt.

“Get the hell up!” It was Sanzo’s voice, morning-scratchy and yet still too clear and loud for comfort. Either the door was really thin and cheap or Sanzo was yelling way more loudly that usual. Or, Gojyo discovered when he creaked open an eyelid and light stabbed his brain through his eyeball, he just had a bastard of a hangover.

“Ngggg,” he said into his pillow.

“We’re up, Sanzo. Just go down to breakfast and we’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

That was Hakkai, also too loud. Gojyo could see half-pillow and half-Hakkai. He had wet, flattened hair and was dressed in his traveling clothes. He held a stack of folded cloth somethings.

“No breakfast. We’re leaving. Now.”

“Awww! Saaaan-zo!” Goku’s indignant voice yelled from the room next door.

“Sanzo, be reasonable,” Hakkai said. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us--”

“Too damned long. I want to make it to the next town by tomorrow night.”

Hakkai sighed and bent over, laying the stack of clothes on his bed. Gojyo creaked his upper body a few inches into the air and discovered that his face was wet and sticky. He’d laid face-down all night and drooled a nice little circle onto his pillow. It smelled horrible.

“I gotta shower, you stinkin’ monk,” Gojyo croaked as loudly as he could. He sat up and saw that he was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before. He’d--

Shit. Shitshitshitshit shit.

“Sanzo--”

“Hakkai,” Gojyo interrupted him, because he felt like crap and like any true masochist, he knew that he had to say something right away, when it hurt the most. “I’m so sorry, man. I wanna-- I gotta talk--”

“We will,” Hakkai said, and straightened his monocle. “I’m going to chat with Sanzo first, make him understand--”

“Okay.” Gojyo didn’t like it, but he really had no choice but to agree. “Get him to let me shower.”

“Yes, please,” Hakkai said, and headed out the door. Gojyo couldn’t read his body-language, but guessed-- hoped-- that at least he wasn’t as pissed off as he’d been the night before.

Gojyo got his clothes off and made it to the bathroom without vomiting or falling over. The dragon was drinking from the tap. Hakkai never left taps running by accident. Therefore, at some point, Hakkai had turned the goddamned thing on for him. Gojyo twisted it off and turned on the shower, ignoring the angry squeal directed at his back.

“Either shower with me or go help Hakkai or something,” Gojyo said without pity. Jeep kyuuu’d again and flew out of the bathroom, then out the open window of the room. Something was happening that Gojyo had never expected: he was beginning to understand the little critter’s language. That had clearly meant “screw you.”

He felt a thousand times better after his shower. He still felt like hell, but it was only a thousandth of hell, not the whole portion. At some point Hakkai had come back in the room to pack up their things. He’d left Gojyo his pants and a clean shirt.

Worry made Gojyo’s stomach curl about itself a little. The headache was gone but the thoughts in his head were all jumbled: he needed to think more seriously about what had happened. What he’d done. What Hakkai had said.

Part of it was simple: clearly, Hakkai had said, No, I don’t want to fuck you again.

Gojyo tried to remember his own thought process, what had made him do what he’d done, but he only partially succeeded. He’d been drinking, a lot, and thinking about sex, even more. With... Shenrin, that was her name, and with-- And thinking about Hakkai saying “you can ask.” Somehow, that had translated itself in Gojyo’s stupid, stupid brain to “ask me if I want to have sex with you again.” The answer to that, he’d already discovered. It was the mile-wide jump in logic that Gojyo was missing.

In wine, truth. Gojyo had heard that, somewhere, and had always thought it made sense. So that, there, was part of his own problem, anyway. The most important question to ask himself, however, was: had he ruined things permanently between him and his best friend?

Best friend. Those words didn’t even begin to describe Hakkai, for Gojyo. His brain couldn’t conjure the proper words to describe someone he’d met so serendipitously, and who he liked being around and who he’d gotten used to being around and who he hoped would always be around, because he made life bearable. Made life good, even when they were in the worst of places and circumstances.

They’d just have to have The Talk. Hakkai had promised-- well, he’d said we will, anyway. Gojyo would ask, and the tiles he tossed in the air would just fall where they wanted. If Gojyo lost the game, then he probably deserved it. For looking at Hakkai in... that way, and for whatever he’d done that he couldn’t remember, but which had eaten away at his brain like a demon, growing bigger and bigger, and saying sex with Hakkai would be a great idea. You’ve done it before right?

Gojyo wondered if maybe there were still some bits of that incubus-sex-youkai dude in his head. Maybe he should ask Sanzo to Makai-Tenjou his brain, just to be sure. And his dick, too, while he was at it. Hakkai had tasted good. Minty and real and warm--

Makai Tenjou-- there was no other solution for thinking sexy thoughts about his best friend, the one he’d just been rhapsodizing about in his mind for all his great non-sex qualities.

Once Gojyo dressed and wandered downstairs, jonesing mightily for a coffee, Sanzo was still in full-on dictator mode, waving his gun around and staring at all the people he should be calling friends and telling them to get the fuck in the car. Even Jeep, saucy little dragon that he was, couldn’t withstand Sanzo in that mood and did as the master commanded. He flew to the street in front of the inn and transformed, engine already running, trying to look as perky and as attentive as he could in car form.

Hakkai came out of nowhere and thrust a paper cup of coffee at Gojyo. Best friend didn’t even begin to describe it. Gojyo couldn’t dredge up even a remnant of his internal hissy-fit of the night before: all he could feel was guilt at being such a shitty, worthless friend. Gojyo took the coffee with gratitude but shook his head at the offer of a muffin. Goku nabbed Gojyo’s muffin and hopped into Jeep. Sanzo took his coffee with an almost-civil “thanks.”

There was no time for The Talk; the others were there, the four of them together as always. Together they drove and drove and drove, even driving through their boxed tavern take-out lunch: Sanzo didn’t want to spend more than one night on the road. Hakkai kept his talk to pleasantries.

At least it looks like it won’t rain tonight, Hakkai said.

That’s good, Sanzo said.

Hakkai, are there any more muffins? Not unless you don’t want breakfast tomorrow, ya pig-faced monkey. Shut up, you per-- stupid kappa!

That sort of thing.

In fact, Gojyo and Hakkai barely spoke at all. Gojyo would have worried about it except for the fact that they rarely talked on the road, anyway-- Hakkai always drove, and Sanzo insisted on riding shotgun. So Gojyo was left alone with his thoughts.

Hakkai must have been hurt. Before or after? Probably both.

He’d hated it. He hadn’t acted like it, though, until last night.

The back of his neck looks warm and kinda tasty. Yeah, and if you didn’t always think like that, you wouldn’t be in trouble now.

That sort of thing.

It was nearly dark when Sanzo deemed it a good time to find a spot to park for the night. Hakkai drove off the road a short ways and found some trees and bushes to block them from view of the road, along with a nice little stream for fresh water. They ate dinner from bags and Gojyo and Goku argued and Sanzo yelled at them and Hakkai set up a lantern for Sanzo to read his paper by and Hakkai and Gojyo barely looked at each other and Gojyo felt kinda sick, even though it was almost the usual routine.

When Hakkai finally looked at Gojyo, really looked at him, his expression was serious. Then, Gojyo felt sick. It was time for The Talk.

“Gojyo,” Hakkai said. “Would you come to look at something with me?”

“Fuck, not again,” Sanzo said in a mild voice, watching them over his glasses. He was in a much better mood-- they'd made good time, and it wasn’t raining. Still, it didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

“Shut the hell up, Sanzo--”

“We’ll be back very soon, Sanzo,” Hakkai interjected, smiling. It wasn’t a scary smile. That looked and sounded heartening, at least to Gojyo.

Sanzo lit a smoke. “If you see Goku, tell him not to wander off too far,” he said.

Gojyo lit a smoke, too. He felt like he needed it. “Where is the little twerp? Off discovering his monkey parts?”

“Let’s go, Gojyo,” Hakkai said, and headed into the trees by the creek.

They’d barely walked out of earshot before Hakkai stopped and turned to Gojyo. His eyes were colorless in the dark. Gojyo blew out a cloud of smoke and tossed some metaphorical tiles in the air.

“Listen, Hakkai. I’m really sorry. I can’t tell you what I was thinkin’, except I didn’t mean to piss you off, or... or...”

“Gojyo.”

Gojyo continued. “Or piss you off. And, I guess, I just misunderstood, but that’s because I’m an idiot, and I hope you--”

“Gojyo,” Hakkai said, interrupting again. “There’s no need to apologize more than twice.”

“Oh.” Gojyo felt so stupid, he couldn’t even look at him. He stared at his feet, half-buried in dead leaves and pine-needles.

Hakkai set a hand on Gojyo’s shoulder. One of those long-fingered, interesting hands. Pale. “I was hardly fair to you.”

“I dunno about that.” Gojyo blew smoke at the ground, then looked up. “Uhh...”

“Hah.” Hakkai took a breath. Rarely did Gojyo see Hakkai looking even slightly nervous, but he did so now. Slightly. “Well, it has been rather strange lately. Odd things have happened.”

“Uh,” Gojyo said again. Then he rallied. “I’ll say. I usually remember killin’. And screwin.”

Hakkai’s face remained composed at the lame joke. “Twice seems a strange coincidence.”

“Why was it always you?” Gojyo said, before he really thought about it. It was getting to the heart of the matter, for him at least, but not how he’d planned, again. And also out loud, which he hadn’t planned, either.

Still, Hakkai seemed to take it in stride. “I think it’s because I was there,” he said.

“Probably.” Hakkai was always there. Hakkai was--

“Or, it could be merely coincidence,” Hakkai amended, stopping Gojyo’s incipient sentimentality in its tracks. “We do seem to run into the same sort of thing over and over, ha, on this journey.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Gojyo didn’t know what else to say. He’d already apologized. So had Hakkai, in a way. What else was there? Nothing.

Hakkai looked thoughtful for a moment. “Do you know, sometimes when the sun comes up, I’m not pleased to see it. But I pretend I am, and that makes me feel better. It becomes truth, in a way.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo repeated, lamely. Sometimes he knew what the hell Hakkai was saying without him saying it, but this time, no dice. Still, he did as Hakkai described, and pretended. “I know what you mean.” Moonlight reflecting off the sweat on Hakkai’s forehead...fingers digging into the knobs on his spine...

“I forgot that, for a while.”

Gojyo still didn’t know what Hakkai was talking about. “Speaking about forgetting. Can you tell me...” It had seemed like hours, mindless hours of pure tight and hot... He dropped his cigarette, ground it under a heel, took a deep breath. “Can you-- what happened, man? I really don’t remember. I woke up covered in--”

“I know,” Hakkai said. “There’s still not much to tell. We ran into that group of youkai. Sanzo shot the leader. He turned into a sort of... mist, I’d say. You ran right into it--”

“I remember the mist. But I don’t remember runnin--”

“That’s when you changed. Well, it wasn’t you, as I’ve said. He was very powerful. He took over your body, started. Ah. Attacking Sanzo, then me--”

“Oh, shit,” Gojyo said.

Hakkai continued. “We held y-- him off for a bit, then decided that if he could be... distracted, I could eject him from your body with my qi. And, well, that’s what we-- I-- did. Offered him-- it-- what it seemed to want most.” He paused, cocked his head with a significant look. “Sanzo was ready to simply shoot you.”

“Holy shit. I’m sure,” Gojyo said. Still, there wasn’t a lot there he hadn’t heard already, except that apparently his body had gone after Sanzo, too. Gojyo shuddered at the fate he’d have met if he’d actually succeeded in that. Thank hell it had been Hakkai, Hakkai who’d told him that it was okay, everything would be okay… “Is that... it? I mean, last week, I know you don’t remember, I just wanna be sure--”

“I remember no more of that than you do,” Hakkai said.

“Oh.” Hakkai’s legs around his waist. Hakkai’s mouth, shocked and lustfully slack.

“Haha, truly hazards of the journey. Thus, my unfairness to you, I suppose.”

“Um. Okay--”

“We should probably get back, see if Goku’s returned,” Hakkai said.

“Um. Okay.” Gojyo was feeling even more idiotic than usual, unable to think of anything pithy or funny or sexy to say. Some sense of self-preservation told him that pressing the issue further would do no good, anyway. “Still buddies, right?”

“Of course, Gojyo.”

So Gojyo followed Hakkai back to camp, brain still trying to work. He did realize that, for some reason, he wasn’t angry at the continued confusion or lack of information. He just wanted to fuck Hakkai more than ever. When he was himself. To feel the things he remembered-- or imagined he remembered-- for himself. That was his own problem, however. Makai Tenjou? Maybe he’d request a private talk with Sanzo, next.

***

Hakkai woke in the morning and supposed he should feel better than he had the day before, especially once he’d greeted the sunrise with a smile so false that it soon became real, so wide and beaming that when Gojyo saw it he said “I’ll make the coffee,” and Sanzo said “fine” and grabbed the pitcher and stumbled down to the creek. Gojyo bent down and started a little fire with his lighter.

Well. Not as true as he’d hoped, then. Hakkai turned the grin down a notch or two and the others visibly relaxed. Hakkai felt so pleased at his success that he actually did begin to feel better. But not completely.

He hadn’t succeeded at all the previous night. He hadn’t really said what he’d meant to say, at least in terms that another human could understand. It was a failing he’d always had, he supposed.

He’d meant to tell Gojyo, what you were asking was not actually incorrect but it wasn’t at the moment you were given and it was done incorrectly. But he hadn’t, partially because it was an exceedingly foolish thing to say, and partially because he’d wavered when faced with Gojyo, earnest and not sloppy-drunk but alive and with a posture that revealed everything that he was, pretense of sensual cool not a pretense at all but the most real thing Hakkai had ever known.

Hakkai busied himself by pulling breakfast out of a paper bag. Gojyo managed to make coffee that wasn’t undrinkable. He looked surprised when he tasted it, eyes nearly as bright as his hair, both brilliant in the sunlight.

“You got the map, Hakkai?” Sanzo asked, after a sip of coffee and the first drag of his second cigarette of the day.

“Not yet,” he said brightly. “I believe Goku is sleeping on it.”

“Tch,” Sanzo said, and strode over to where Goku still sprawled on the bags next to where Jeep had sat all night. A couple of well-placed fan-whacks later and Goku was up and eating. Hakkai watched his open face and marveled at him, at how naturally cheerful he was in the morning. Hakkai supposed some mornings were better than others, for himself. This particular one he wouldn’t call bad, merely strange, perhaps.

For when Gojyo went down to the creek for a quick morning bathe, Hakkai had to suppress the urge to follow, secretly, to see if he still had the scars from the scratches on his shoulders, the scratches Hakkai didn’t remember making, unlike the ones that had faded, the ones he did remember making.

This was ridiculous. Hakkai was the most foolish person alive, very likely. Gojyo may think himself stupid but he was not a dissembler, and such people could always come more easily to the truth than those who made a practice of lying. Gojyo’s reactions to the events of the past few months were natural, logical. Hakkai was the one who courted futility.

He looked at Sanzo. Sanzo, who also knew more than he would say. Sanzo had yelled at them to be quiet, shoving his gun into Gojyo’s ear and threatening dire hell, and Hakkai had said it would be all right, it would be okay. He was fine-- ahh, would take care of it ahhh--

Gojyo had woken and not remembered a thing.

“Let’s get going,” Sanzo said.

They’d all eaten. Hakkai must have eaten, as well-- he could still taste the sweetness of the cake in his mouth. He must have read the map and discussed it, also, for his hands were folding it and stowing it in his pocket. Jeep gobbled Sanzo’s half-eaten muffin and trotted over to transform in his tire tracks from the previous evening. The motions and arguments of cleaning and packing up and getting into Jeep were as normal as they could be. Hakkai wondered if he was imagining the slightly manic edge to Gojyo’s jokes.

That first time had hurt a bit, physically. That was negligible, however, next to the enormous surprise of discovering just how very easily he’d fallen prey to Gojyo’s body, even on his own plan. It had been a long time since he’d been touched intimately, and never had it been so raw, sudden, frightening, or exhilarating. And it had been Gojyo, as surely as it had been not-Gojyo at the same time. The realization was part of the importance.

Had that second time merely been a coincidence-- had it only been Hakkai because he was, as he’d said, always there? Ironic, then, that he’d welcomed what the drugged food had produced in him, that lust, before he’d followed Gojyo into forgetfulness. Had the fruits of a rigid mind been the cause of that small delay? Ultimately, it wasn’t important. What was important and tragic was that they’d been stopped, eventually. Hakkai didn’t remember it but could still feel it: the craving in his body had never really ebbed.

And he’d actually thanked Sanzo the following day for separating them. Sanzo, who’d steadfastly ignored the whole incident, once it was over, and Goku, who’d been pink-faced but who’d-- mostly-- taken it in stride, as he did everything.

Hakkai often wondered if the drug was still in his system, even as he realized it was a cowardly excuse. It was a poor defense against Gojyo, who offered himself daily in return, indirectly or outright, without shame.

Was it a good idea? Did that matter, anymore? Courting futility was... well, it was futile. Hakkai drove and laughed at himself for being so foolish, at his own past and present and future idiocy. When best to spring his decision on Gojyo? When they stopped for a five-minute lunch, when they arrived at the inn, when he saw Gojyo half-heartedly eyeing the selection of females at the inn? Ultimately he waited until they’d gone up to their room and changed for bed.

“Gojyo,” he said, when Gojyo came out of the bathroom, cursing their sink-dragon and rubbing at his wet face.

“Yeah?” Gojyo whispered; how very unlike him.

“I was incorrect.” There were strands of wet-dark, red hair plastered to Gojyo’s forehead. How beautiful.

“Uh. How?”

Hakkai took a sharp breath. “The answer to your question should have been ‘yes.’ Maybe our own terms would be better. I should hate to remain confounded in this way.”

Hakkai knew his words were clumsy, and weak. Still, he could watch the expressions flitting across Gojyo’s face as he worked it out: confusion, hope, glee, uncertainty. At least they appeared to be communicating, again.

Eventually Gojyo seemed to reach a hesitant sort of acquiescence; he walked the few steps over to where Hakkai stood, looked up at the ceiling and then set his hands on Hakkai’s hips. Belying the warm, comfortable grip, Gojyo’s face was open, still surprised, eyes asking Are you sure? Are you sure?areyousure?

“Please, Gojyo,” Hakkai said, not moving.

Gojyo finally kissed him, lips soft and hesitant, quickly becoming otherwise. Gojyo’s kiss took its time, was just Gojyo, with no excuses or barriers, that lovely skill focused at last on Hakkai. It answered Hakkai’s own unspoken question: did he want this? Yes. It was exactly what he’d been looking for.

“Man, Hakkai,” Gojyo mumbled when Hakkai shoved against him hard enough to send them both stumbling. Thankfully Gojyo’s back hit the wall to stop them, and thankfully Gojyo didn’t let go, just mumbled that and more of the same into Hakkai’s mouth. “I can’t believe-- Oh, man--”

Hakkai felt Gojyo’s hands crawling up his back, sliding over his nape-- slow-- were they hesitant, or did they know exactly what they did to Hakkai’s nervous system? A thumb pressed just under Hakkai’s shoulder blade, and a knot Hakkai didn’t know he had melted under that warm pressure. He was mush, he was-- not focusing.

“It hurt,” he whispered against Gojyo’s neck. Fine red hair caught in his mouth, smoky and real, and Hakkai wound it around his tongue. There wasn’t one part of Gojyo he didn’t want to put his tongue against.

“I’m s--” Gojyo started to say, but halted when Hakkai licked the skin just under Gojyo’s jawline. His pulse was erratic: fast, hard. God, he was alive, and so much better than Hakkai had remembered or imagined, when he’d imagined doing that. “Hnh. Hunh.. Hakkai...”

“What?” Hakkai counted Gojyo’s ribs under his loose shirt, felt the up-and-down of his harsh breathing. It didn’t match his pulse at all.

“Tell-- Unh. Tell me,” Gojyo said. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, lips wet. Had Hakkai done that? He was stunned, humbled.

“Shall I show you?”

“Yeah.” Hakkai clenched Gojyo’s waist, thumbs pressing hard. “Shit.”

He yanked Gojyo against him, away from the wall, then twisted and threw them both on the bed, pressing Gojyo into the cheap inn’s surprisingly soft mattress. Gojyo looked up at him, eyes wide and smugly gleeful. Anticipatory. Hakkai wanted to laugh: he realized he was happy, also.

“This time we get a bed, Gojyo,” Hakkai said, rather breathlessly, and squirmed against the lean heat that was Gojyo. Seeing that body used by another had been horrifying, and yet Hakkai had wanted it. Enjoyed it-- that sick parody of love. How sick did that make him? Drunken Gojyo would have been preferable. This? This was heaven, surely.

“Yeah,” Gojyo said, and kissed him, mouth wide, gulping, like Hakkai was air. Hakkai was no less desperate, for this, the real thing.

It would have felt like a dream, except Hakkai knew he was awake: his skin was too sharp and sensitive. The urgency of his own erection would have woken him, anyway, surging back and forth against Gojyo’s through their pants. There was no turning back, however foolish this was.

He grabbed Gojyo’s hands and pressed them into the mattress. Then he set his teeth on Gojyo’s ear and bit down, gently. Gojyo yelped and arched his body in a jerk.

“You-- your body-- did that to me,” Hakkai whispered into Gojyo’s ear. “Only harder.”

Gojyo was shuddering. “Y-- you can do it if you want,” he breathed into Hakkai’s hair.

“No. I don’t drink blood, as a habit,” Hakkai said, and smiled as he licked Gojyo’s ear. Besides, he didn’t want to leave marks for Sanzo to comment upon. This could never be explained away as hazards of the journey.

Gojyo chuckled sharply. “Me neither. Usually. I’d wondered about those...uh. Marks.”

“And here I’d thought I’d covered them,” Hakkai said. He let go of Gojyo’s hands and squeezed his shoulder blades under his sleeveless shirt. He could only feel smooth, taut damp skin over the bone-- no scratches-- and wondered if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Mmmm,” Gojyo said and reached up to wreak more havoc on Hakkai’s nerve-endings, bunching his loose sleep-shirt up under his armpits. Clothes...Hakkai sat up, straddling Gojyo’s thighs, and raised his arms to let Gojyo remove his shirt and toss it. On the way back down Gojyo’s hands caressed Hakkai’s shoulders, his chest; Gojyo watched his own fingers as they trailed over Hakkai’s skin. Hakkai watched Gojyo, his dark eyes and intent gaze, the way his tongue stuck partially through his lips in concentration. Hakkai felt a warm, aching knot grow in his stomach, one that had nothing to do with the hot, impatient throb pressing against his own pants-zipper. Funny, that he should shiver so, for he hadn’t realized he was sweating. So unlike before... Gojyo’s touch was gentle, glorious.

“I remember moments,” Gojyo whispered, tracing Hakkai’s scar, making Hakkai’s stomach-muscles wobble alarmingly. “Or maybe I dreamed them. Hell, I dunno.”

Amazing, how they could communicate when they wished. “Ah?” Hakkai said.

“You told me it was okay. You said it would be okay.”

“It was, Gojyo. I... I...” Want more. He swung a shaky leg off Gojyo to sit beside him on the bed. “Why don’t we remove our clothing?”

“Good idea.”

Gojyo was quick and professional, Hakkai less so, and not as precise as usual. He dropped his pants on the floor and looked at Gojyo, sitting naked on the bed, penis erect, full-- Hakkai had only caught the barest glimpse of it in the dark, in the forest, before it had--

That was then, Hakkai thought. This was not then. It was its own time.

Some might call the inn-bedroom small and tawdry, but it was infinitely preferable to having rocks digging into one’s back-- not that Hakkai wouldn’t do that again, maybe, and the thought of making this a habit was rather exciting-- but still, it was nice to stretch out on the soft bed next to Gojyo, to twine their legs together, the hairy roughness no less exciting now than it had ever been. Gojyo’s hand, one of those strong, skilled hands, clasped Hakkai’s cock and he ah’d into Gojyo’s hair. The way Gojyo’s fingers trailed, then squeezed, thumb sliding over and down, in time with the pulsing, the impossibly fast course of his blood through his body; he could feel it in his fingertips, in his toes, in his clenching testicles. Hakkai realized he wasn’t even moving, was focused on breathing and the blood thundering over and over in his ears-- he was going to lose it too quickly, and Gojyo had climbed atop him, knee between his thighs, pushing--

Hakkai shoved Gojyo’s hand away.

“You don’t want me to--”

“Hah, well, it depends.” Hakkai’s voice was shaking. He ignored it and pushed at Gojyo’s shoulder, rolling him over so that their positions were reversed. He scrabbled on the floor for and found the little tube he’d pulled from his pants pocket earlier. He kneeled half-between Gojyo’s thighs, again, and held it up. “I bought this, just in case. Thinking to-- hah, lessen the ‘hazards of the journey,’ as its omission was rather a drawback.”

Gojyo’s sweat-filmed forehead wrinkled in confusion, then smoothed when he’d figured it out. “Izzat what I did? Man, I’d wondered. But it’s not really the kinda thing you ask...”

“Indeed,” Hakkai said, trying to calm his own breathing, and still the shaking in his fingers long enough to open it properly. “Not a detail that bears repeating, in any case.”

Gojyo blew out a harsh breath. “Man, Hakkai. I wanted to know. More than anything, though, I wanted... I’m so glad you don’t hate me...”

“I know,” Hakkai whispered. He wanted Gojyo, too, in every way imaginable; this time, however, this time was-- well, it was for him. He squeezed the clear liquid into his palm. Strange, that it wasn’t warm, only a little cool, and slippery against his fingers-- the uses were more than imaginable. He trembled all over at the thought of it, and managed to lose a few drops onto Gojyo’s belly. Trying to dab it up only spread it around. The skin on Gojyo’s stomach was ridiculously soft; he was so lean and fit...

“Ha-- Hakkai... let me--”

“Hm? Oh, no, I’ll take care of it.” The thought of Gojyo’s hand on his cock, coated with this, was too tempting. The member in question twitched, bumping Gojyo’s jutting erection. They both watched the scene in mutual fascination, until Hakkai took another deep breath and curled his slippery hand around his own cock, coating the dry skin. My, he was hard, the coolness of that gel hadn’t dimmed the almost furious heat at all, only made it shiny--

“Umm, Hakkai?”

Hakkai knew he had to be quick: he yanked Gojyo’s leg by the back of his knee-joint up to his own shoulder, then leaned on it to try and free Gojyo’s other thigh. Gojyo had tensed it up; he’d not been expecting that, obviously.

“Umm, Hakkai-- I thought that--”

“I remember this part very well,” Hakkai said. He turned his head and directed further speech to the soft-skinned inside of Gojyo’s thigh. “It’s a useful position...”

The motion of Hakkai’s tongue on his skin must have convinced Gojyo; he drew a deep, shuddering breath and relaxed all over, leg sagging on Hakkai’s shoulder, head falling back. “Show me,” he whispered. “Do it all, whatever you’ve got for me, Hakkai, I want it...”

Hakkai nearly fainted with lust; their cocks could bounce against each other all night at this rate. He lifted Gojyo’s other leg and leaned forward-- good thing they were both so limber, he’d bent surprisingly easily and so did Gojyo-- swiped his still-slick hand between Gojyo’s buttocks and pressed his cock against that slippery skin; decided that his preparation had been plenty, he hadn’t been so lucky and he hadn’t been comfortable driving for days, both times...

He surged forward, met a little resistance, but what did that matter when there was all this delicious heat, tight and throbbing and everything in the room smelled like Gojyo? Gojyo’s head hit the wall-- oops-- “Ah!” he felt so good, different from anything Hakkai had ever experienced before.

“Shit!” Gojyo cursed. His fingers scrabbled on the sheets for purchase, gave up and grabbed Hakkai’s shoulders, instead, fingers digging at least as hard as Hakkai’s had. Hakkai backed up a bit, centimeter by centimeter of aching, throbbing friction, slid forward again--

“Fuck!”

“Are you all right, Gojyo?” Hakkai didn’t really care, he was just asking-- no, that was a lie, he did care, look how Gojyo was staring at him. Hakkai cradled Gojyo’s face in one hand, as if he could capture the expression, that moment in time...

“Yeah-- I just... I’m fine...”

“It will get easier,” Hakkai promised, moving out, then back in again.

“Heh. St...Still hard, ain’t I?” Gojyo replied, a little shaky but with his usual candor.

“Indeed you are.” Hakkai took a second to kiss the inside of Gojyo’s knee again; it was trembling with the strain of whatever Gojyo was feeling-- he was trembling all over, in fact, and Hakkai wouldn’t even have to move to die from the sensation. He did move, anyway, three, four, more times, until he stopped counting and focused on the rhythm. Hakkai knew from experience it was quite pleasurable, if he was doing it correctly, and if Gojyo’s quickly-relaxing posture, the way his head rolled back, were any indication, he was. For Hakkai it was impossible, amazing. Everything between them was too real and the rest of the world faded and boring: the sound of their mingled breathing and the slap of their skin were the only sounds that existed, and Gojyo, his hair in such sharp relief against the pillow that the bed disappeared. The smell of sweat and skin and sex.

Gojyo snaked his hands between his own thighs to clasp Hakkai’s back and watched him, dark red pupils peeking from his half-shut eyelids, strong fingers kneading Hakkai’s spine as he moved, pulling him forward.

Hakkai leaned into that pull until their noses touched and breaths mixed. His thoughts lost focus and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell Gojyo how good that felt, how the angle pushed him in so deeply...

Gojyo spoke for him. “Oh--Ah! Shit,” he breathed. “Whatever y-- you're doing, keep doin’ it.”

“H-- hah.” Hakkai had no breath even to say how glad he was that Gojyo loved it, how glad he was at the way Gojyo began pushing up against him, shoving Hakkai deeper into the clenching of his body, shoving his cock into Hakkai’s stomach--

“Shit, Hakkai. Hell--” Gojyo grunted, and they were pressed together so closely, Hakkai’s own skin so raw and sensitized, that he could feel how Gojyo’s entire body tensed. Sticky semen joined the sweat between their bodies.

Hakkai lost his rhythm and jerked hard, losing his grip on Gojyo’s knee, but it didn’t matter because every muscle in his lower body heated deliriously, clenched-- released. “That-- that-- that--” he said into Gojyo’s damp hair, as his body lurched forward on its own a few more times.

It took a few moments for Hakkai to realize that he again had a mouthful of Gojyo’s hair, tasting now like sweat and smoke and Gojyo. He lay there for a few more moments, listening to their harsh breaths in the quiet of the room, discordant and yet not unpleasing. It was minute or two before Hakkai felt like speaking, though he had to work Gojyo’s hair out of his mouth with his tongue before he could do so.

“That’s more or less how it went,” he said, hardly slurring at all.

Gojyo’s chest heaved, his smoker’s breath rasping in his lungs. He was laughing. “Well, I asked.”

“That you did.” Hakkai peeled himself from Gojyo’s body to flop beside him. The air was cool on his sticky, tired, happy skin. “Are you all right?”

“Uh-huh.” Gojyo test-moved his limbs. “My ass hurts.”

“Hazards--”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep throwin’ it in my face.”

Hakkai smiled at the ceiling. It was good to just talk, again, to understand each other. Now that the questions had been answered.

“You know, Gojyo, you may have been right. I think everything has been made better, for a while, at least.”

“Huh?” Gojyo paused in the middle of lighting a smoke to stare at him in non-comprehension. Well, Hakkai thought. Maybe not perfect understanding.

“Nothing.” Hakkai could stay happy thinking about the future possibilities, the places he could put his tongue. And, ultimately, mind-reading and extracurricular bedroom activities aside, that was what his and Gojyo’s relationship was about. It was about caring more for each other than anyone else in the world cared for them. Not everyone was perfectly happy all the time.

Gojyo swung his legs from the bed, and stood and stretched. “You need to buy more of the--” His leg jerked back and forth a couple of times. Hakkai rolled to the edge of the bed to see what Gojyo was kicking about. It was the lubricant package.

“Indeed. Sanzo hardly looks at the receipts.” Sanzo... oh. Sanzo, who saw more than he said and didn’t care for much of it. Well, at the moment, Hakkai didn’t really care about what Sanzo might think. Besides, it wasn’t like this was the first time...

“Heh.” Gojyo chuckled. “Makai Tenjou.”

“What?” Hakkai wasn’t sure he got the joke. He saw something shiny under the end table, and had to reach down to see what it was. “Oh, here’s my monocle.”

Gojyo was patting his sticky stomach, smoking, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Hakkai just watched. He thought lazily about a shower to get the stickiness off himself, how good it might feel. He should check on Jeep, anyway. They’d had a few hard days’ drive, and he and Gojyo had probably kept the poor thing awake.

Gojyo stubbed his half-smoked cigarette in the bedside ashtray, and headed into the bathroom. “Think I’ll shower,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Perfect,” Hakkai said, and got up to join him, and to rescue Jeep from Gojyo’s sink-wrath.

END. Thank you for reading! Comments, concrit, a “yo,” all appreciated.