Nighttime musings

Having a relationship, Hakkai knew, was a difficult thing. It required the negotiations skills of a statesman, the wits of a strategist and a tolerance level a saint would admire. But Hakkai was a realist above all, and he knew that any sort of relationship with Gojyo – dear, slobbish, flirtatious, annoying, foul-mouthed, chain-smoking pervert Gojyo – would take all the above and cold steel to back them up. He had that aplenty. He had taken quiet steps to ensure that Gojyo's mind (as well as all other parts of him) would remain fixed upon Hakkai and Hakkai alone, simply by stating that anything caught touching anyone would be immediately removed. He had more or less given up on the messiness, the cursing, the childish behaviour and the smoking, and the pervert side was actually beginning to grow on him. Hakkai hadn't liked it before, but sleeping together brought him…….a new appreciation of Gojyo's, er, creativity. In fact, Hakkai reflected, theirs was a most unusual problem.

Oh, the amorous activities (Hakkai absolutely refused to apply any terms Gojyo used to describe them) had gone well; the real trouble began after. Out of a vague sense of duty, they had agreed to spend the night in the same bed. It was, after all, impolite for one of them to just tumble out of bed and return to his cot.

Being possessive was something Hakkai didn't take easily to. He was very careful to regard nothing as his in case the next turn of fate stripped it away, and had hesitated long before making that dangerous choice where a certain half-breed was concerned. It was thus not surprising that when they became lovers, the most difficult part was the sleeping together.

It was unbelievably awkward. Neither of them knew exactly where to put their limbs. Hakkai liked the pillows under his head, and Gojyo, who slept mostly on his side, preferred them at an angle; the compromise made both uncomfortable. Hakkai slept on his back, and when Gojyo's arm crashed heavily across his stomach it jarred him awake. Gojyo's feet were cold because Hakkai had curled up in the blankets, and the tossing and turning made them both irritable in the morning. Gojyo mumbled and thrashed in his sleep, and it kept Hakkai awake. And when Hakkai crawled out of bed an hour or so before Gojyo usually stirred (at gunpoint) it always woke Gojyo, who was vocal and eloquent in grumpy protest.

But Hakkai was determined once he made up his mind, and so over the next few nights he set out to discover exactly what was wrong. Once he had made a list of the problems that were involved, he went about finding ways to get around it. He soon discovered that there was a soft patch of skin on his shoulder Gojyo seemed to find perfect to rest on, and shifted his sleeping angle to match his so that the redhead could place his head there while Hakkai used the pillow. This resulted in Gojyo sprawling all over him at nights, arm, leg and head thrown over him. Hakkai didn't mind that much, since it kept him warm enough that he didn't strip Gojyo of the blankets and cause a sleepy war. But Gojyo's fingers rested on his side exactly where it tickled him most, and learning not to squirm in his sleep (which made Gojyo mumble) took some time, and on warm nights it was stifling. Sometimes Hakkai turned away from him, resting on his side, and the way Gojyo's arms wrapped around him, one at the chest and one lower, while his body pressed firmly to Hakkai's, brought a blissful sense of security. But those nights were rare, and Hakkai soon found that the scent of Gojyo's hair and his two 'antennae' tickling his nose was familiar and desired. And when Gojyo's head lay on his shoulder he could wrap an arm around his neck, fingers stroking lightly, reflexively even in sleep, and that was nice too. Gojyo hadn't even noticed most of these little changes; he was a sound sleeper, and he adjusted easily to their new positions. It was easy, all things considered.

There were other things, too. Gojyo tended to dream vividly, and since Hakkai was a light sleeper he always came awake at the sounds. He had noticed them before, but with mere inches separating the two of them those tiny noises became fascinatingly defined and, over time, not nearly so annoying. Sleepy, contented rumbles meant good dreams, or half-dreams of Hakkai as Gojyo's hands moved in restless, delicate imitation of his sleeping mind; sometimes he fought with Goku or muttered curses at Sanzo, and these never failed to make Hakkai chuckle; and then there were the nightmares, when his body grew eerily still and his childlike whimpers made so little sound that it was only the vibration of Gojyo's throat on Hakkai's arm that alerted him to their occurrence. He learned how to deal with those as well; holding him tight and humming into his ears seemed to work, and so did rubbing his back. Once Gojyo had stopped breathing for so long that Hakkai had to shake him awake forcefully, and he jerked upright with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Hakkai wondered whether he, too did the same things. Occasionally when he woke at night he would find Gojyo staring down at him with deep affection or quiet contemplation; more often, that familiar wicked twinkle in his eyes as his nose nudged Hakkai's with mischievous purpose; a few times, he looked worried or angry, but Hakkai never remembered what he dreamt about these days, and Gojyo refused to tell him when he asked.

Hakkai never told Gojyo about his strange preoccupation. It would inevitably lead to teasing, and Gojyo was unfortunately skilled at it. But he couldn't help but enjoy their nights together, in all ways. It was something he'd never experienced; Gojyo was so different from her that his earlier life didn't count.

There were different kinds of nights, he realised, his orderly librarian's brain cataloguing these intimate things so that every little thing would be traceable, easy to recall if necessary. There were the nights when Gojyo clutched him in his sleep, and there were the ones where he simply lay heavy and solid by his side. There were some summer nights when they inched away from each other, and inevitably Hakkai found himself dragging Gojyo closer in spite of the humidity, even though the redhead hated being hot. And on some nights when Gojyo kicked the blankets off and they were both too tired to retrieve them, Hakkai abandoned his customary position to turn sideways and nestle in, the amazing warmth of Gojyo keeping the chill out.

It was only in sleep, he reflected, that their need for touch was most openly displayed. Oh, the others knew, but they both remained silent about it. Goku teased Gojyo about the two of them, Hakkai knew, because he had complained about it enough; but Goku respected Hakkai too much to do it in his presence. The healer was the closest thing the boy had to a father figure; Gojyo was too immature and Sanzo was a different matter entirely. And as for the monk, he made a few snide remarks about Hakkai's lack of taste and left it at that, with that curious streak of consideration he displayed where Hakkai was concerned. Not that Sanzo had much material to sneer about, since they were discreet (the most discreet couple in the history of the world, according to Gojyo). But at night, Hakkai allowed himself to be different, allowed passion and tenderness and sensuality to shine through his unflappable exterior, and Gojyo responded with a kind of intense, gentle joy that was more endearing to him than any seduction. He seemed almost awed by Hakkai, and he touched him constantly when he allowed it, and sometimes when he didn't; drawn to him, patient and curious, taking as much pleasure in his presence as his touch. It was overwhelming to be the recipient of such loving attention, and he always felt a little guilty that he never gave as much as he received. Hakkai knew he was being unfair, that for every pitifully half-hearted defence Gojyo had ever thrown up against a world determined to destroy him, Hakkai had a wall as high as the mountains they had struggled through, and to give so little and take so much was inexcusable. It was made worse by the fact that Gojyo didn't seem to mind at all. Still, Hakkai was still learning to deal with it, and he was, he knew, a fairly accomplished student. And Gojyo understood, he really did, and that was more precious to Hakkai than anything else he could offer.

And that was what a relationship needed most, the healer decided, his mind already a little fogged by tiredness and the utterly adorable way Gojyo was nuzzling him in his sleep. He was fairly sure there was some complicated symbolism involved in the fact that it had taken them so much effort just to share a bed without driving each other to distraction, but he couldn't be bothered to go fish for the answer right now, not when he was feeling warm and comfortable and pleasantly surrounded by Gojyo, scent of smoke and cologne, smooth, unfairly soft skin, the huff of his breath, the trickle of red on his throat and chest, and if Hakkai licked his lips he would taste Gojyo and it was really……

A/N: my first Saiyuki fic over 1000 words, and not at all what I had planned; a little weird and a lot plotless. Oh well.