A/N: Another craptastic story done in 2008/2009 or so. This is a series of chapters. Contains yaoi. Lots of yaoi.

Eventual pairings: Sanzo/Gojyo, Sanzo/Hakkai, later threesome

Embrace Nothing

Sanzo inhaled his cigarette more roughly than usual. He breathed out just as roughly, stirring the smoky air in the small hotel room. If Hakkai saw him now, there would be hell to pay, he knew. There was a no-smoking policy in the hotel—and a fee if that was broken, not to mention a distraught Hakkai. But Sanzo didn't care, he needed a goddamn cigarette.

That fucking kappa had done it again. Oh so casual, just one arm draped languidly on his shoulders with a lazy, witty remark. He'd managed to endure Gojyo doing this occasionally for three years, but it was still annoying. That pervert insinuating and bragging and insisting on invading his personal space… It was bad enough he was surrounded by morons everywhere he went. He hated perverts.

He sat alone in a hotel room with two small beds, waiting for the imminent youkai attack or a drunk Gojyo finally coming back, whichever came first. He'd fucking KILL Gojyo for staying out this late. Sanzo couldn't sleep knowing he would waltz in here smelling of booze and some sleazy woman. Most nights it was just booze, but he'd seen the waitress meet Gojyo's eyes, seen them talking as he stomped upstairs. Every time it made him want to kill someone. That fucking bastard.

Sanzo had insisted on sharing with Gojyo because he knew he'd be out late, and the others had bought the excuse that he'd wanted to be alone for that amount of time. So here he was, feeling like an angsty teenage girl with a one-sided crush. In disgust, Sanzo mercilessly crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. It was so late at night that it was almost morning, and still Gojyo wasn't here. Sanzo allowed himself one brief moment of worry before he shook his head and flopped back onto his bed. His third attempt to fall asleep failed miserably. He lay there for what felt like forever. Right when his exhaustion was finally catching up to him, he heard the doorknob rattle.

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed it to stop; fucking, stupid, pervert, drunk-off-his-ass Gojyo! Just when he was about to get up and get the door himself, he heard the door opening and Gojyo, who was mumbling half-hearted curses to himself, stumbled in. He closed the door none-too-gently, making a loud slam sound, and went suddenly still. Sanzo, who was pretending to be asleep, could imagine the stupid look on his face. When Sanzo didn't move, Gojyo resumed going for the bed. He could follow Gojyo's movements around the room by sound: the other man struggled with his shoes, then presumably his shirt, and then the covers, before finally settling down.

Sanzo sighed lightly to himself. Idiot.

Suddenly he was awakened by some sort of instinctual sense for danger. He didn't remember getting his gun from under his pillow or pointing it at the figure over his bed, but it only took one look to see it was a youkai. He blew the guy away, splattering blood with a loud pop of the gun. "Tch," he said to the other youkai. "Better luck next time, dumbasses. Thought you could sneak up on us while we slept?" He went on to shoot another youkai, before the rest of them turned hide and ran. Cursing, Sanzo threw the covers back and slid off the bed. He looked over at Gojyo's side of the room and couldn't believe his eyes.

The fucking kappa was still sleeping!

He walked over and hit the bastard in the head with his gun. Gojyo awoke with a mix between a snort and a pained grunt. He blearily looked up at Sanzo and rubbed his head. "What the hell... Sanzo..." he said, without his usual indignation.

"Youkai, you fucking idiot. Get the hell up!"

Gojyo groaned, but got up nonetheless. "What, this time of night?" he slurred, obviously still drunk despite the sleep he'd had. Sanzo looked out of the window and gauged the time; maybe an hour, at most, had passed since he'd fallen asleep. That made him feel even crankier.

He wheeled on Gojyo and shouted, "You, Gojyo, are a fucking pain in my ass! Not only did you not lock the door, but you're drunk off your ass during an attack!" Sanzo sniffed lightly. "And you smell like a whore." He shook with rage as he raised his arm like he was going to pistol whip the kappa again, but he just stood there, shaking. Gojyo cowered and stared at him with wide eyes. Sanzo cursed under his breath and stormed out of the room, not even caring if Gojyo followed or not. He wanted to shoot something, and NOW.

Hakkai and Goku had come out of their room and were waiting in the hall when Sanzo emerged. They exchanged glances when they saw the stage of anger Sanzo was in, and followed wordlessly. The cowardly youkai who had attacked them made the chase longer than it should have been. The whole trio behind stayed out of Sanzo's way and just watched in amazement as Sanzo actually kicked ass for once, by himself. Usually he couldn't be bothered.

They stayed silent until they were back at the inn. The youkai hadn't attacked anyone else in town, and the hostess was waiting for them. She welcomed them back with a shaking voice. Sanzo ignored this fact and just demanded to change rooms. After Sanzo exchanged keys, he could hear Hakkai stay behind and apologize and explain what had happened.

As they were trekking back upstairs, a deep voice from right behind him said, "Oi… Sanzo…"

Sanzo whirled around, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He immediately snapped his shoulder up, breaking the grip. Yet a tingling sensation remained: the half-water sprite's chi. "What?" he snarled at the taller man behind him. Gojyo's red eyes were still glazed with alcohol, and he swore if that pervert said anything even remotely like innuendo he'd shoot him.

"Man, calm down... You got cut. See, right here? Don'tcha feel it?" That light touch on the outskirts of the jagged cut in his side, close to his back, made him flinch.

"Don't touch it, dumbass!" Of course he'd noticed it, but it wasn't worth any sort of attention. Besides the fact that Hakkai would have to stitch his shirt up, which he could mention after they all had some sleep.

Hakkai had reached the top of the stairs behind them just as Gojyo was pointing out the cut. So, of course he just had to inspect it and make a big deal out of nothing. "It's shallow, but it's a pretty nasty cut. It could possibly get infected. I could heal it if it bothers you."

"Don't bother, Hakkai. It's fine." His voice was softer than the one he'd used on Gojyo, but brooked no argument.

Hakkai conceded and sheparded a sleepy-headed Goku to their old room to get their stuff. Sanzo marched ahead of Gojyo into their new room and set his gun down on the small table between their beds. He wasted no time in peeling off his tight shirt to have a look at it. He found the rip in the fabric and tsked in disapproval. It would rip more if he wore it, so he put the lightly stained shirt on the table with his gun and sat down on the bed. He couldn't decide which he wanted more: another cigarette, or sleep. As he was deciding, an irritating voice commented from the doorway, "Maybe you should let Hakkai heal it, Sanzo. It would be a shame if you got a scar."

"Why in the fuck would you care?" The words came out strained, but he deluded himself into thinking that it was because Gojyo was straining what little patience he had. Yeah, right. "Besides, I already have scars."

"Oh," was all Gojyo said. He put their stuff down inside and shut the door, then walked over to his own bed and sat down. As Sanzo sat there debating a cigarette or sleep, Gojyo scrutinized Sanzo's chest, squinting in the scant light. The beds were only a few feet from the other, but it was doubtful he'd notice anything.

"You're not going to see them in this light, idiot," he admonished, though he felt himself flush lightly at being so intently looked at with his shirt off.

"Can't see 'em," Gojyo mumbled before he sheepishly looked away. He got into bed and rolled onto his side, away from Sanzo.

Sanzo lay in his bed, too, and pulled the covers up over his bare chest. As always, this new bed was just as cold as the last one. He felt like he should be used to it by now. But he wasn't.