Gojyo stumbled up the inn's back stairs after successfully closing out the last bar of the night. It had been a stellar evening-pretty girls, the freshest beer he'd had in a long time and lots of people who thought they knew how to gamble at cards. He'd been to three taverns and his pockets were full of his winnings. He'd also been offered his choice of beds in which to spend the night, beds occupied by some very luscious ladies, but Gojyo was only interested in one bed tonight.
He wondered if Hakkai was still up. If not, Gojyo would have fun getting him up.
Heh. Getting him up. Gojyo snickered, and then he stood swaying at the top of the stairs, hiccuping as he stared down the hallway before him.
Which room was Hakkai's?
He'd taken the back way upstairs, and now the hallway and doors looked different. Gojyo peered down the corridor ahead of him and tried to remember how he had seen it when he'd been carrying Hakkai's duffel upstairs earlier that afternoon.
Hmmmm. Eeenie meenie minie ... that one. The third door on the left, that was the one he remembered. Gojyo quietly opened the door and took a peek inside.
The moon was on the wane, and its pale light seeped through the bedroom window to make ghostly outlines of the room's contents. Gojyo watched the rise and fall of Hakkai's chest as he lay sleeping in the bed on the far side of the room. He tiptoed across the room and silently shed his clothes, letting the garments slide to the floor before he slid under the covers. Hakkai was only wearing sleep pants, and Gojyo appreciated the unusual lack of Hakkai's cotton nightshirt as he savored the warmth that radiated from the bare skin so close to his.
Time to have a little fun.
Gojyo carefully reached over and lightly brushed his hand against the front of Hakkai's sleep pants.
He was rewarded with a sleepy grunt, and a slight shift of narrow hips.
Gojyo's hand moved again. Up, then down, applying a little more pressure.
A low, husky groan followed, and Gojyo felt flesh begin to harden beneath the soft cotton of the pants.
Oooh, he didn't know Hakkai's voice could get all deep and sexy like that; Gojyo decided that sleep-groping was definitely something he would do again. He gave the burgeoning erection a squeeze and buried his face in soft hair, breathing in the spicy scent of sandalwood soap.
"Mmmm, don't you smell nice," he murmured. "You feel nice, too." He squeezed again.
Two things happened simultaneously in the next moment: the body next to his went rigid, and Gojyo remembered that Hakkai did not use sandalwood soap.
Oh, shit.
"What the fuck?" Sanzo roared, and before Gojyo could stop him the monk had twisted away and his hand was diving beneath his pillow.
"Hey, man, it was a mistake," Gojyo said while he quickly scrambled out of the bed. "Wrong room, sorry."
BANG! Chunks of plaster pinged against the window glass. "It's the last mistake you'll ever make," Sanzo said, and he squeezed the trigger again.
BANG! Gojyo dived for his pants. "Shitty priest, I said I was sorry! I thought you were Ha-someone else."
"We're not going to debate Hakkai's questionable taste right now. I'm am going to kill you, and you are going to die."
Gojyo grabbed his shirt and carefully edged toward the door. Sanzo's gun was trained on him, but it was dark and the monk's hand was shaking so his aim was probably shit.
Probably. Maybe. Gojyo really didn't want to find out.
"Look, I'm leaving," he said. "See? I'm opening the door. I'm gonna go through the door and find my own room and we'll just forget this ever happened. Nobody needs to know I got you ha-"
BANG! Gojyo ducked as wood splinters burst from the door frame, just to the right of his head. More bullets followed as he fled down the hall, and he didn't stop until he heard nothing but clicking and hurled curses coming from Sanzo's room. Gojyo ducked into the stairwell and warily watched the corridor, since he knew the bastard could reload like lightning. Sanzo's door slammed shut, and moments later Gojyo heard the scrape of a chair being dragged across a wooden floor. A thunk followed that told him Sanzo had rammed the chair against the door.
Gojyo breathed a sigh of relief; it looked like he was off the hook. Sanzo was unlikely to try and kill him in the morning, because he would have to explain to Hakkai and the monkey exactly why he was killing Gojyo. And Gojyo would make sure that with his last, dying breath he would whisper, "Because I felt him up by accident, and he got hard."
He grinned in the darkness. Sha Gojyo had copped a feel on Sanzo. And lived.
That would give him enough ammunition to needle the prissy monk for weeks.
He took a moment to gloat over his achievement, and then he quietly made his way over to the third door on the right and turned the doorknob. Once again Gojyo saw a sleeping figure, limned by pale moonlight. But it was a cotton-covered shoulder peeking out from under the blanket this time, and he smelled the more familiar scent of green tea soap. Gojyo undressed again and got under the covers, stretching out alongside Hakkai.
"Gojyo." Bedsprings creaked, and then Hakkai was pressed against him, his warm hands wandering over Gojyo's newly-bare skin.
Gojyo smiled. Now that's more like it.
~.~
Afterword: This was written for Springkink, the prompt was Saiyuki, Gojyo/Sanzo: mistaken identity, surprise!groping - It had been an honest mistake-he'd thought that was Hakkai in the bed-but from the way Sanzo was shooting at him he didn't think he'd be allowed to explain until the priest ran out of bullets.