In Conversation, a saiyuki fanfic

In conversation

A/N: this is almost a drabble series, and breaks indicate time leaps. Written for the 7thnightsmut challenge on lj.

'Hakkai!'

Hakkai looked up at the enthusiastic yelp and smiled. Goku was wriggling like an excited puppy, grinning from ear to ear. He hadn't looked this excited since the time Hakkai had experimented with pineapple icing on Goku's birthday cake.

'What is it?'

'You won't believe who's here.'

Hakkai felt a smile bubble up – Goku's cheer was always infectious. 'Who is it?'

'Sha Gojyo!'

And it was a pity to burst his bubble, really, but… 'Who's that?'

Goku's jaw dropped. 'Sha Gojyo,' he said. 'Only, like, one of the most famous actors in the country? Third-best pay in the industry? Works on just two movies a year? That Sha Gojyo?!'

'Ah…' Hakkai rubbed his head sheepishly. 'No.'

'But it's an amazing chance for us!' Goku was bouncing again, looking six years younger than he was. 'Think of the celebrity appeal! I mean, this guy has pull, you know? This could be a big break for us!'

'Yes, yes, I get it,' Hakkai said, smiling. 'I'll attend to him myself.'

He checked to see whether his apron was clean – spaghetti sauce had an unfortunate tendency to stain, and Goku to wave his ladle about when he was speaking, and the combination was usually disastrous, but today, for once, he was actually clean. He began to wonder if it was easier being a waiter after all, especially on days (like today) when the knives bent and someone put a spoon in the oven and the oranges went sour and the third waiter managed to up-end a sizzler on himself and took a day off to go to the hospital, the dry cleaners and home respectively.

Sometimes, irresponsibility was terribly inviting.

He stepped out into the dining area and realised that he had, in fact, known of Sha Gojyo. The flame-red hair that slashed its way through the pristine white canvas of the advertising board slap across Westward's front door, the subtle smirk on full curving lips and the careless confidence of posture guaranteed to make anyone stop and look, it was the same. So.

He wasn't alone – there was a woman with him, a beautiful woman with lovely long hair, subtly streaked with purple tints, and a daringly low dress. She leaned forward as he walked towards them, ran a teasing finger down Sha's white collar and whispered something to him. He leaned back at the end of it, smiling.

He cleared his throat politely, and Sha turned to look at him. And stared at him. And stared. And stared some more, until Hakkai was beginning to feel uncomfortable, pinned by sharp red eyes.

'Whoo,' he said softly. 'So you're the waiter, huh?'

'Not ex–' Hakkai began, but the woman cut him off. 'Gojyo,' she whined. 'I'm hungry.'

'Yeah, yeah, babe,' he said distractedly, still looking at Hakkai.

Hakkai sighed, resigned. 'What would you like to have?'

The woman was the one who ordered, a standard salad that Goku only had on the menu because it was expected of him. He was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable, mostly because Sha was still staring at him like a bear at a bun.

'Is that all?' he asked, politely, and edged away from them without quite waiting for a response.

He'd never been more relieved to be out of the dining area in his life.

Goku met him at the door, bouncing on his heels. 'So, does he like it?'

'Um,' Hakkai said. 'I believe so,' he added diplomatically. 'Why don't you take care of their order?'

'Sure!'

The fruit and vegetable mixed salad was 'tasting strange' according to Linchei, who wanted him to help, and Hakkai felt a strong urge to pull his hair out as he strode towards the counter. Two years learning catering and his best diagnosis was 'strange'? What were they turning out of school these days?

'Hey.'

'Excuse me, guests are not permitted in–' Hakkai began automatically, but he found his voice trailing away when turning around brought him nose-to-nose with Sha. 'In the kitchen,' he finished, taking a discreet step backwards. Which brought him dead up against the counter; he could feel the heat of the open flame against his back.

Sha smiled at him, a slow predatory curve of lips. 'So you're a waiter here, huh,' he said. 'Want to go out with me?'

'…wha?' Hakkai said intelligently.

'Go out with me sometime,' and he was treated to a sly persuasive smile. You know you want me, it murmured, and something about its practiced, invasive superficiality made him bristle like nothing ever had before. Sha leaned forward, and Hakkai flinched.

'Sorry, I can't,' he snapped, resisting the urge to back up a little more.

'Oh?' Sha leaned in a little. 'Maybe after work, then? I'm sure your boss wouldn't mind.'

'I can assure you I would.' Hakkai gave him his iciest look, and was pleased when he finally moved away, and even more pleased when his eyes widened as the significance of that statement hit him.

'Oh,' he repeated, awkwardly this time. 'Okay. Well. Uh. Sorry.'

'Yes. Now if you'll excuse me.' Hakkai edged past him and out of the nearest exit, right into the dining area and two tables away from the poor girl the actor had come with; she was toying with her glass and pouting. Hakkai walked over to her table quickly, aware he only had a minute before Sha gathered his wits and followed him. 'Excuse me.'

'Yes?'

'I thought you should be aware that your date was in the kitchen a minute ago hitting on someone else.'

'Excuse me?'

He smiled pleasantly and regretfully at her. 'I'm terribly sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I thought you should know.'

Furious colour suffused her cheeks, and she stood. Hakkai was pleased to note that the red was far more anger than humiliation – instead of wringing her hands, she was bunching them into two tiny but purposeful fists.

Hakkai took the long route back into the kitchen, heading around the other tables. He saw Sha slink back to his table from the corner of his eye, turned to watch, and took immense satisfaction in seeing her land a mean right hook a second before the swinging doors cut off his view.

Small mercies, Hakkai thought, and decided not to worry about the pull Sha supposedly had. They'd done without before.

Sanzo barged right into his room like he always did, the mannerless bastard, and flung all the blackout curtains open. Gojyo whimpered and slung his arms over his head protectively.

He could feel Sanzo smirking at him. 'Well, you look handsome.'

He pulled one arm slightly down and glared. 'Fuck you, too.'

'Cut the crap. You called me here at nine on a weekend morning, the least you can do is clean out whoever you did last night out of that filthy mouth of yours obefore I get here.'

It was way too early to think up a sophisticated response, and if he'd thrown a pillow Sanzo would likely have shot him. Gojyo sat up, yawned, stretched. 'It's past nine?'

'It's three past nine. And don't you dare get out of that bed unless you're clothed.'

'Afraid you'll be jealous?'

'Traumatised is more like it.' Sanzo pulled up an armchair and lit up without asking permission – not that he'd have to. 'So what was it?'

'Work, actually.'

A long blond eyebrow arched. 'Work. Another paternity claim? Stalker? What?'

'Not since I got myself that neat little certificate from the doc.' Gojyo grimaced. 'And no stalkers, thank you very much. The creepy beads guy's still in prison anyway. I just might hire you to kill him when he gets out.'

'Assassinations are my aunt's area of expertise,' Sanzo replied.

Gojyo stared. 'Your aunt offs people?'

'Occasionally.' Utterly straight-faced.

Gojyo groaned. 'No, it's not a paternity claim or stalker or whatever else your sewer mind might have come up with; jeez, you'd think they'd think up something better to get money out of me. Nah, it's not that. I need you to find out some stuff about this guy I met a while ago.'

Sanzo nodded. He never wrote anything down, but the man had a mind like a razor. 'Is he trying to blackm–'

'No! No, it's nothing like that. As a matter of fact, it's not illegal at all. I just want to know more about him and there isn't any way I can exactly tail him around town without being noticed, yeah? Just; things he likes, things he does, what sort of person he is. And I'd rather not find out he's an axe murderer or something when the tabloids dig that up.'

Sanzo was leveled a homicidal glare at him. 'Do I,' he said icily, 'look like some sort of matchmaking service to you?'

'No, but…'

'Have I ever, in the ten years we have known each other, acted as if I would in even the most extreme situations stoop to doing such degrading work as digging up dirt on your next fuck-buddy?'

'Sanzo–'

'Not even if I was starving to death in an alley, being serenaded by rats and flogged to death with bootlaces. Not even then.' He stubbed his cigarette out violently on the teakwood table as he stood up to leave the bedroom.

Gojyo winced as smoke rose from the expensive wood. 'Don't make me pull out the big guns,' he warned.

Sanzo sneered magnificently. 'You're a worm, Gojyo, and worms shouldn't aspire to flying lessons.'

The door slammed shut behind him.

Gojyo sighed and picked up the phone. He knew Sanzo well enough – hell, he'd practically lived at the security consultant's home office for a month when that Kami-sama guy mess had been at its worst. But most importantly, he'd used the time to gain a very very valuable ally. One who had greater reach and fewer scruples than he did.

'Tender Mercies, how may I torment you?'

He grinned. Only one woman answered the phone like that.

'…hey there, Goddess. It's your favourite one-night stand.'

'…I hate you,' Sanzo announced twenty minutes later as he stormed back into Gojyo's apartment.

Gojyo smirked. 'Now, Sanzo, it's not my fault you can't talk your aunt into things because you didn't sleep with her. Though,' he added, 'it could be yours.'

'That was a…' words temporarily failed him. 'You're a smug smirking steaming shit.'

'Love you too, babe.'

That got him the gun in his nose. 'Never call me that,' Sanzo gritted. 'Name.'

'Huh?'

'His, Einstein.'

'Cho Hakkai. Owns a food place downtown.' Gojyo scribbled the address down. Sanzo snatched the paper from his fingers and peered at it as if it might be contagious.

'Fine,' he snarled and left.

'Hakkai,' Goku tugged on his sleeve. 'Hakkai. The guy from table three's there again.'

'Again.' Hakkai sighed. 'Maybe I should just go ask him what he wants. He's been trailing around here like a lost puppy for days now.'

'Nah, not a good idea.' Goku's golden eyes were big and worried. 'I mean, what if someone wants you dead or something? If you called him out on it he might, I dunno, shoot you or something.'

'Goku, you've been reading far too many trashy detective novels.'

'Still,' he insisted. 'I'll go ask him.'

He "wandered" purposefully over to what had to be the most conspicuous PI Hakkai could imagine and sat down at his table. They talked in low voices for a few seconds, and then Goku (to Hakkai's absolute surprise) turned extremely pink and nodded very fast before he sped back to the kitchen. 'He just asked me out.'

'Excuse me?'

'He just asked me out.' Goku was grinning from ear to ear. 'Well, that proves one of three things.'

'Which are?'

'One, that was the lousiest cover-up I've ever seen, in which case he'll stand me up tomorrow and we'll know he's suspect; two, he really did just want to ask me out, or three, he's trying to use me to get close to you.'

'Goku, really. No more detective novels.'

'Here,' Sanzo said, and dropped a box file on his head.

Gojyo cursed. 'Damn it, that hurt!' then he brightened when he saw the name on the file. 'Hey, that what I think it is?'

'No, it's last year's Ku Klux Klan funding report.'

'Ku Klux wha?'

'Sarcasm. Look it up. If you know how.'

Gojyo grinned and began leafing through the file.

'So what did you have me do all that work for?' Sanzo asked, lighting up. 'Seems like a lot of trouble for a lay.'

There it was – the question Gojyo had managed not to ask himself for three weeks. 'I don't know.'

'You don't–' Sanzo stopped, squinted at him. And then, incredibly, he began to smirk. 'I don't believe it. You actually like this one, don't you?'

'Yeah,' Gojyo muttered. 'Sorta.'

'Most people ask people out,' Sanzo said acidly. 'Not hire PIs to dig up the dirt on them.'

'Did that.'

'And?'

'Got slapped.'

'Really? He looked more like a strangler to me.'

'No, Sanzo, that's just you. Everybody wants to strangle you.'

Sanzo smirked. 'He finagled that restaurant incident, didn't he.'

Gojyo avoided that potential yawning chasm of embarrassment. 'And the second time I asked him out, a day after that, he told me real polite to leave. Only scary polite. I don't get the guy, you know?'

Sanzo began to laugh. It was slightly creepy. He'd never heard Sanzo laugh before. It was pure evil slithering in the shadows behind a smirk. Gojyo cringed.

'If he kills you, it's just what you deserve anyway.' Sanzo stood. 'And now that I've finished the single most humiliating assignment of my entire bloody life, I expect payment tomorrow. Twice the normal fee.'

'Sure,' Gojyo said readily. He'd expected thrice. 'Hey. Want to hang out this evening? Jien and I are going to a movie. Not one of mine.'

'No. I'm busy.'

'Oooh, does the glorious Sanzo have a love life like the rest of us not-so-holies?' Gojyo waggled his eyebrows.

'Shut up.'

He spent the night going over the file. The movie, he decided, made for far less interesting viewing. Jien only wanted him to watch it because he liked the actress, and there were limits to the whole brother thing. Especially when he'd already seen it once.

When he was finished, he put it down and wondered if he really was going crazy. Three weeks. He didn't remember people's faces after three weeks, certainly not if a) he'd succeeded in sleeping with them or b) if he hadn't succeeded in sleeping with them. Hell, he couldn't remember the name of the girl he'd been with that night, and he'd had a week's worth of bruising to remember her by (she'd been a nasty hitter; Gojyo reminded himself never to pick up girls at karate sessions again, no matter how deep their gi yawed open when they punched).

'I'm going crazy,' he muttered. 'Crazy. That's what it is.'

Feeling reassured that some things never changed, he fell asleep on the box file. Woke up with a horrible pain in his back two hours later. Slung it out of bed and rolled over and went to sleep again.

It took him two days to set out to find Hakkai again. Jien was pushing him to read a new script, a sci-fi fantasy movie based off some myth or the other. Gojyo hadn't listened to details. He'd done one film this year, it had been a decent success and was expected to make a bomb on the DVD sales, and he wasn't really interested in working the next few months. Besides, he could afford to be picky. It wasn't like he'd end up bankrupt if he didn't work; one of the advantages of your brother's best friend being chairman of Houtou Bank was that you got people falling all over themselves to tell you what would keep your money safe. Not to mention growing like fungus in the rains.

Between that, firing his housekeeper, turning his house into what closely resembled a bombing site, hiring a housekeeper, raising the housekeeper's pay on demand after the first day, deciding he needed a smaller place, realising this was the least fancy place he could get which still had a decent view and creature comforts, badgering Sanzo about his 'hot date' – which had turned out to be a date after all, so miracles were real – Gojyo found several excuses to not do what was always niggling in the back of his mind.

When he found himself totally out of excuses (except for the script which was scowling at him from the shelf where he kept his bath shit), he decided that well, today was a fine day to go out and find new ways to humiliate himself.

Wednesday afternoon, library volunteer, Sanzo had typed. It was right there in the file, so Gojyo went to the library.

He hadn't been in a library for at least six years. The cool air and bright lights were as unsettling as ever; and the weird silence was broken only by the soft ping as the librarians summoned their victims to the check-out, or whatever they called it.

Gojyo hated it. It wasn't that he disliked books (not much) or libraries (not particularly). It was just the way everyone looked at him (or he thought they did) – like he was a hooker at Sunday school.

He fidgeted restlessly. He'd worn a short black wig and put in contacts over his bizarre eyes, and even if the colour was too strong for the blue contacts to cover it completely the resulting purple was nowhere near red, which was what he wanted. And he was wearing the most ridiculous clothes he could find – sleeveless jacket and poofy blue pants which killed the fashion-conscious at twenty paces. He was thankful he was so drop-dead sexy – if it had been anyone else he was sure they'd have looked terrible. If anyone did recognise him, it would be a minor miracle. Still.

He picked up the first three books lying on top of the Recent Returns pile and walked over to the counter where the brunet was working.

'Hey,' he said, 'Books.'

Green eyes flicked up impersonally before they returned to the books. 'Of course. Your membership card, please?'

Oh, yeah. That was the crunch. 'I don't know where it is.'

Now Hakkai looked up at him with a bit more interest. 'You've lost your card? But if yo–' and then Gojyo watched as realisation crawled over his face. 'Oh. It's you again.' He blinked. 'And what is that you're wearing?'

'Well, that proves one thing.' An eyebrow went up. Gojyo grinned and leaned over the counter. 'I'm unforgettably sexy.'

'Or perhaps memorably tactless. Applications for new cards are over at counter number five.'

'Jeez, you could lighten up a bit.'

'Not according to my dietician,' the man snapped back.

'I just asked you for a date.'

'With your girlfriend five feet away? What made you imagine I'd say yes?'

'Ummm,' Gojyo said. This was the part that didn't make sense even in his practice sessions in front of the mirror.

'Precisely. Now if you don't mind, there are people in the queue behind you.'

Gojyo moved away, letting the burly guy who'd been giving his back the evil eye take his place. Was about to leave when a thought hit him. He went and stood in the line again.

This time Hakkai saw him three people down, and Gojyo felt smug when he saw his working speed rise drastically.

'So does that mean you'd have said yes if she hadn't been there? I mean, we're not going out anymore.'

'Mr Sha–'

'Gojyo–'

'Mr Sha, from the fact that my restaurant had to provide you with an icepack and my employer had to carry you to your car, I can assure you that I deduced that your relationship was at an end. And no, I wouldn't have.'

Gojyo gave him his best charming grin. 'Why not?'

'I don't appreciate being the flavour of the month in someone's bed.'

'First: it's normally week, and second: you wouldn't have been.'

'Mr Sha.' Gojyo was beginning to see why Sanzo saw a potential strangler in him. 'I wonder why you would expect me to swoon theatrically into your arms after so thoroughly insulting both my integrity and my intelligence – now, if you please, some of us are working here.'

So Gojyo left the queue.

Then he came back. 'Wait, so you don't own that restaurant?'

Hakkai sighed. 'Do I have to find someone to embarrass you with again? The reporters were most amused by the last time.'

Gojyo grinned. It was a real grin, surprisingly enough. It had been a long time since he'd been threatened so politely. 'Okay, fine,' he said and left.

He went approximately ten feet before he found a comfortable armchair. There were six shelves of trashy bodice-rippers nearby, and he picked one up to giggle at the bad smut scenes. He kept his back to Hakkai and started reading.

'Why are you tormenting me?'

Gojyo closed the book, shut his eyes and grinned. Forty-five minutes, wow, the guy had some restraint. He craned his neck back and looked into an upside-down pair of stunningly cold green eyes. 'Sorry, did you say something?'

For a moment, he thought he was going to die. Those pretty eyes flashed dark as war or thunderclouds and he had to consciously not huddle down in his armchair and bare his throat like a dog. The next, they warmed, sudden as that, and then he put a hand over his face and Gojyo realised he was shaking with laughter.

'You,' Hakkai said, and then had to stop and chuckle again. 'You are utterly incorrigible.'

'Inco-what, and does it mean good-looking?' He flashed him a quick smile, hopeful and a lot more sincere than he'd planned on it being.

'No, actually, it doesn't.' Hakkai squinted at the cover. 'Are you actually reading that book?'

'Yeah,' Gojyo said defensively.

'Well, I suppose you couldn't have just sat here for an hour staring into space.'

'Nah, did that already at the planetarium.'

That one got a smile out of him. It lit up his face and crinkled his nose and made his eyes squinch up a bit. It was probably the influence of the bodice-rippers, but Gojyo found it…cute.

And his neck was beginning to hurt. He sat up and turned around in his chair, facing him. 'Does this mean you won't find another hitwoman if I ask you out this time?'

Hakkai hesitated. 'That depends. Are you going to be picking up anyone else along the way?'

Gojyo put up his hands in a timeless gesture of harmlessness. 'Hey. She gave me a concussion. You'd probably claw my eyes out or something.'

A laugh, this time. Better. 'Oh, Gojyo,' Hakkai said, still smiling. 'I didn't expect such accuracy from you. It usually takes people a lot longer to realise that.'
He was already back to his counter when the penny dropped. Gojyo's eyes widened, and he sat up straighter. 'Well, damn,' he whispered, grinning uncontrollably.

He'd been right. This was more than worth his time.

'Hakkai.'

'Hmm?' Hakkai said, looking up from the salad he was sprinkling spices on. 'Goku, I'm busy.'

'He's on the phone.'

'Who?' he asked blankly.

'You know. Him. Sha Gojyo!'

Goku was almost bouncing with anxiety. It was adorable. Hakkai smiled. 'That's all right. He probably wants to talk to me.'

'Yeah, but…'

'Don't worry.' He smiled, and Goku subsided. Some employer – Hakkai always felt like the older one even though Goku had a good five years on him. Then again, maybe Kanan had had it right with her nickname for him after all – he did seem to have the teacher-manner down pat. He pushed away the old familiar pain, practiced in it by now, and went over to the phone.

The phone was bright red against the pristine white of the kitchen wall, and in the hottest corner of the room, too (Goku claimed it gave people more reason to hang up quickly; Hakkai believed him). The red reminded him of Gojyo's hair, and he found himself smiling a little as he picked up. 'Hello?'

'Seriously, what do you do there?'

'Good evening to you too.'

'No, really. It's been bugging me all day.'

Hakkai sighed. 'Did you call up just to ask this?'

'….yeah? Sorta?'

'Fine. I'm working towards my catering degree, and I wait tables a few nights a week in exchange for being allowed to putter around in the kitchen during the slow nights. Learn the trade on the job, so to speak.'

'So the crack about being the owner?'

'Well, I am, partly. I inherited half of the business, though Goku claims that isn't why he hired me.'

'It isn't!' Goku yelled from at least ten feet away. Hakkai shook his head ruefully. His sense of hearing really was extraordinary.

'Okay.' Gojyo cleared his throat. 'That's…weird.'

'Thank you.'

There was a short awkward silence.

'Well, guess I'll see you at the library tomorrow,' Gojyo said finally.

Hakkai froze. 'I didn't tell you I'd be there.'

'…'

'Have you been stalking me?'

'…'

'You have been stalking me.'

'Well, not me personally, but…'

Hakkai sighed. 'Don't tell me. The blond Goku's going out with now.'

'Erm…'

'I should probably be very annoyed about this,' Hakkai told him severely.

There was a muffled noise from the other side of the phone, then a heavy thud.

'Is everything all right?'

'No, I fell off my chair.' He made a funny little noise, like a sulky cat.

'Oh.'

'So, you're not, right?' Gojyo asked tentatively.

'I'll see you tomorrow,' Hakkai said and hung up. Smiled at the phone a little and wondered why, exactly, he wasn't.

'Most people,' Hakkai observed, 'come here to read.'

'And I come here just to bug you, that what you're saying?'

'Mm. Something like that.'

'I'm offended.' Gojyo put his hands to his chest, affected a tragic expression and was delighted to see Hakkai's smile light up his face. 'You're mean.'

'Why, yes. Are you scared?'

'I think it's sexy,' Gojyo said, waggling an eyebrow.

'Oh, well, I had to try.' Hakkai dumped a pile of books on his lap. 'Here. If you're not going to do anything, you can at least help me put these back where they belong.'

'You just want to see me stretch to put stuff on the high shelves,' Gojyo accused, and grinned at Hakkai's reaction. 'So have I earned your house number yet?'

'Oh, you mean you didn't find that out when you were oh-so-busy with your stalking? I'm disappointed in you.'

'I did,' Gojyo said quietly.

Hakkai studied him for a long moment, eyes unreadable, and then he nodded. 'Fine.' He scribbled it on a piece of paper – scribbled very neatly, Gojyo noted – and handed it to him.

Gojyo felt like crowing. Victory at last.

'The books, Gojyo,' Hakkai said firmly. 'Now.'

With a sigh, he stood up and started work.

It took three days for the call to come, and Gojyo's first words were, 'I bet you spent the whole time wondering why I didn't call.'

'Excuse me,' Hakkai said, smiling, because he had, 'may I know who's speaking?'

Gojyo burst into laughter. 'Nice one. So are you?'

'…you're working up to some sort of cheesy line, aren't you. Gojyo.'

'Something like that. Jeez, let a man have his punchline, would you? Just, you know, occasionally. For the novelty of it.'

'I'm terribly sorry. I'll try to be more accomodating in the future.'

'You talk like a teacher or something,' Gojyo said, with a faint note of wonder in his voice.

'Ah, yes?'

'I kind of like it. It's…weird.'

'And weird is good?' Hakkai enquired.

'Yeah. It's good.'

'You know, when I said you could choose the venue of the date, I didn't imagine this.'

Gojyo grinned at him and then gestured grandly. 'Please sit. Food will be served shortly.'

'You cook,' Hakkai said disbelievingly.

'Nope.' He reached into the large hamper he'd brought with him and pulled out takeout cartons and a pizza box. 'Here we go.'

Hakkai shook his head. 'I can't believe you're just commandeering my living room like this.'

'You said you wanted to be surprised.' Gojyo tilted his head. 'Aren't you surprised?' A bright childlike grin. 'And I brought something to watch, too.'

'This is the definition of a cheap date,' Hakkai said, trying to stop his lips twitching.

'Well, I could have taken you out to a fancy restaurant or on a yacht for a romantic candlelit dinner, and you'd have spent the whole date wondering why I was doing that and if I just wanted to sleep with you or whatever.'

'And by bringing movies and dinner over to my house, you've assuaged all my suspicions.'

'I've wha?' Gojyo said blankly. 'And hey, those pizzas are not cheap. My sister-in-law made those, and she's a hell of a cook.'

Hakkai shook his head and dropped the subject.

The movie was a sword-and-sorcery fantasy, but the hero was interesting for once. Gojyo had apparently seen it before, but he still watched raptly as the story unfolded. Hakkai kept one eye on the screen and one on Gojyo.

He was rather surprised that Gojyo had been accurate in his analysis. Having money spent on him made Hakkai uncomfortable, but this was both intrusive and genuine – and more likely to succeed. He didn't know what was more strange – that Gojyo had dared such a thing, or that he had actually understood him well enough. Siccing that detective on him was one thing; understanding him was another.

'Hey, don't you like it?' And then there was the sincerity in those exotic eyes, the oddly childlike way he tilted his head back at Hakkai, a far cry from the practiced smirks or the smooth dangerous grins that graced magazines and papers.

'No,' Hakkai said slowly, 'I do.'

Hakkai had learnt a few things about Gojyo over the last week: that sometimes, he could be dangerously charming. Sometimes he could be boyish and clumsy. And also that occasionally, he was utterly illogical.

'I understand it's literary license, Gojyo, but still, how long can it possibly take to make a road-trip across a country? Presuming they travel twenty miles a day – a day – they still cover the thousand or so miles in a year. But in a vehicle, they'd cover closer to twenty miles an hour. In which case there's no way it can take this long.'

'Jeez, Hakkai, it's not about the time at all! It's just…it's the way you get there, or some such shit like the goddess chick was sayin'. Besides, it's just a story. You don't have to bristle over it.'

'But it has to make sense,' Hakkai protested.

'Oh, right. 'cause life makes sense.'

'Well–' Hakkai started, and then stopped. 'I see your point.'

'Okay, then,' Gojyo said and gave him a dazzling grin. 'There's another thirty episodes to go, so sit down and watch.' Without waiting for Hakkai's reply, he reached up, caught Hakkai's wrist and dragged him down to the sofa. It was a seamless movement and it seemed natural to flow with it, to let Gojyo plop him down on the other side and sink into the soft, soft cushions, deep enough to bounce slightly before he settled. Gojyo's hand was still around his wrist, warm and strong. He gave it a pointed look, and Gojyo withdrew it.

'You don't like it when anyone touches you, do you,' Gojyo said, half a question and half a statement.

'No,' Hakkai said honestly.

Gojyo blinked a couple of times, like the idea was alien. It probably was to him, Hakkai realised; he touched everyone, compulsively, without any real sexual intent: ruffling a child's hair, scratching dogs, leaning in uncomfortably close when someone talked to him; Hakkai had never seen a picture of him that didn't include some sort of contact. A poster-child for skin hunger, Kanan would have said, perhaps. He waited fatalistically for the familiar stab of pain at her memory, but Gojyo chose that moment to sling his arm casually around Hakkai's shoulders and everything else vanished in a moment of sheer surprise.

Then he found himself leaning into it.

Gojyo made a contented little noise and his hand slipped a little lower until his fingers were trailing ticklishly against Hakkai's breastbone. Hakkai tensed, but neither of them moved after that.

After that, the touches became more frequent. Gojyo never asked him why he didn't like touch, which was good, because Hakkai wasn't entirely certain he knew the answer himself. He just casually accustomed him to it – an arm around his shoulders while they walked, or nudging him with his toes while they were on the sofa watching another of Gojyo's animes (the man was crazy about them, Hakkai had discovered), or the hugs that always lasted a little too long, were always just a little too close.

Except they weren't, not quite, not anymore.

He was still trying to figure out when that had happened.

'You know, I can't really figure you out,' Gojyo said.

Hakkai hummed a sound that was supposed to indicate he was listening, but not really paying attention.

Gojyo had bought him a collection of haiku the previous day, clearly anxious, muttering something about maybe it wouldn't be a double copy or a complete loss, but it truly hadn't been; Hakkai had picked it up with a delighted smile and promptly proceeded to ignore Gojyo for the next two hours while he absorbed each poem. Gojyo had, in return, stripped his fridge of everything remotely edible and then nagged him for twenty minutes until he reluctantly agreed to play cards with him instead.

He was on the second reading now (it really was good), and Gojyo was still nagging him, only now he was leaning on the back of Hakkai's sofa to peer at the words and his hair was falling cool and silky against his cheek and his arms were not quite around him and Hakkai could smell him and feel his warmth whenever he breathed.

'Hey,' Gojyo persisted.

Hakkai put the book down with a sigh. 'You know, you don't seem to do anything but follow me around everywhere. Don't you have anything else to do?'

Gojyo pondered that very seriously. 'No,' he said finally.

Hakkai sighed again. 'Okay. What do you want to know? If there's anything that apparently all-inclusive file on me you seem to have doesn't tell you.'

'Why'd you decide to go in for this whole thing? The cooking, the waiting tables. You're pretty damn rich looking at this house of yours.'

'Oh, that.' Hakkai laughed uneasily. 'Well, as I told you. I inherited a quarter of Westward, and this house, from my sister. My twin, actually. We never really knew each other, we were raised separately by foster parents, but we found each other about a year before she died.'

Gojyo was waiting for the rest, he realised after a few long moments of silence. He looked up from his hands. There hadn't been any platitudes, any pointless I'm sorrys. None of the pat phrases that had made him furious in the weeks after her death. As if knowing her only a year made it less important that a part of him had died. As if their apologies meant anything. As if any of that really mattered. And under it all how grateful they were: not me, not me, not me, under everything they said.

How badly he'd wished it was them, he'd kept that a secret.

'Sorry I pried,' Gojyo said.

'No you're not,' Hakkai corrected absently. The book was suddenly less interesting than it had been. 'She and Goku were going to go into business together once she'd graduated; she put in a lot of money from her trust towards starting the restaurant before she found out she was ill. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, I was studying catering myself. She left her share of Westward to him, but he insisted I take it, said it didn't really belong to him and he wanted help anyway. He's a rare one.' The words rolled mechanically off his tongue, as if he'd practiced them.

There was a long silence. Hakkai stared at his hands as if they contained the mysteries of the universe, waiting for Gojyo to say something, do something. He expected Gojyo to wrap his arms around him, complete the loose embrace, and they did, finally. Hakkai let out a breath and relaxed a little.

The strangest thing, he thought, was that he'd always dreaded silence. He'd thought sometimes, fancifully, that maybe it was because he'd had her with him even in the womb; the reassurance of another heartbeat. In his childhood, it had meant quiet cold home and distant parents, long bookshelves and the chill of winter in everyone's voices; and the gnawing ache of never knowing what to say. And even in that one blissful year when he'd been with Kanan, there had always been sound, two people almost the same trying to tell each other everything, and how could they have run out of things to say, ever?

But this silence was warm, comfortable, like Gojyo's arms around him; the kind of silence you could whisper secrets into and let them sink down into acceptance like stones in a river, and be as forgotten unless you wanted to drag them up again.

A long exhale against his neck, his ear. Hakkai shivered as Gojyo dropped his head onto his shoulder.

'When I was a kid,' Gojyo began slowly, speaking into skin, and Hakkai listened.

Gojyo fell asleep on the couch that night, nodding off in the middle of a sentence. Hakkai opted out of trying to haul him up to his guest bedroom, covered him with a blanket and left him there, hoping he wouldn't fall out of it in the night.

He woke up around midmorning and trooped into the kitchen with unwashed mouth and crusted eyes, yawning widely and scratching his stomach.

'Grhgsmf,' he explained, leaning against the door. 'Mphm.'

'Good morning to you too,' Hakkai replied cheerfully. 'Eggs?'

Into each life, a little rain, it said. Of course, in Hakkai's case, that meant that it only happened when he wasn't expecting it, and only following something he'd actually begun to enjoy having in his life. In this case, Gojyo. He supposed Kanan had been enough warning, but he did have a reputation for persistence.

He was self-aware enough to realise how far he had fallen; what he wasn't quite sure of was how exactly it had happened, or how Gojyo had wormed his way into his heart so easily, or how he fit like he'd always been there, as if he had simply filled a Gojyo-shaped hole in his life which he'd just never noticed before.

He was less sure what to do about it now.

It had been simple in the beginning to strike up a fairly harmless friendship with the man, what with Gojyo's tendency to prefer plopping in front of the television with food (provided by Hakkai) and a movie (provided by Gojyo), or make a charming pest of himself in the library, or turn up before Hakkai started his morning walk and join him without even asking him permission - it had been easy, where expensive dates or money thrown around would have put him off. They'd spent over two hours a day together since this had started, and Hakkai had taken it in stride - and he was normally thrown off by the slightest change in routine.

That was the next thing that disturbed him, that Gojyo could read him that well.

The third thing was possibly that he was attracted to him.

That should have been a given considering he'd accepted Gojyo, but it wasn't usually, not for Hakkai, who was accustomed to dating more out of morbid curiosity than any real interest.

This was, he thought, extremely inconvenient. Not to mention potentially messy and emotional. Especially because Gojyo was certain to leave after a point. And because he didn't want him to. It would probably be best to let it fade by itself, before the wanting became serious enough to have to do something about it.

Once he had come to this very logical conclusion, he spent the entire day moping. Gojyo called once, on his cellphone, but he didn't answer.

It was around two-fifteen that night that it occurred to Hakkai that he had been going about things all wrong.

The problem wasn't exactly the fact that Gojyo apparently liked him, it was that Gojyo wasn't looking for anything permanent. All his life, he'd expected to find one person and stay with them. He'd found peace with Kanan, peace and happiness and more laughter than had been spread out over the twenty years he'd gone without, and losing her had only strengthened that need to tie himself to one person.

It might have been wiser to have needed that person to be tied back, but it was too late for wishful thinking.

Hakkai switched off the light and stopped pretending to read.

Whatever he had with Gojyo was transitory. That was a fact. In that case, he was only making things worse for himself by resisting the redhead's advances, or by preventing him from making any. At the very least, if it wasn't going to last, he was going to make it worth it; and when it did end, at least he'd have done everything he could to prevent that from happening. That was all he could do at this point, wasn't it? Hope that he could bind them together close enough that Gojyo wouldn't want to leave. That was all there was left. Or maybe that was all there was. It wasn't necessarily as if it was all over, and going into it with this attitude wasn't going to help his chances.

At which point the very interesting and ultimately useless circle of thoughts began again.

Hakkai plumped his pillow a little and switched the lights back on. It was going to be a long night.

And he was going to have to call him in the morning.

As it turned out, he did have to call him, but for an entirely different reason.

'Hey, Hakkai,' Gojyo said, grinning at the cellphone like a complete idiot. 'What's up?'

'Um, Gojyo. Perhaps you could explain why there are about fifteen photographers outside my house trying to take pictures of me?'

'…wha?'

'There are people,' Hakkai said patiently, 'outside my house, trying to take pictures of me. Apparently, they want 'the scoop' on your 'latest conquest'. I do wish you'd get here soon, some of them are – excuse me!' he called. 'Would you please not trample the gardenias? Gojyo, I have to go, they're murdering my garden.'

Gojyo hung up. Put his head between his knees and said 'Shit, shit, shit.' Thought for a moment. Called Hakkai back. 'Uh, Hakkai?'

'Yes?'

'Try not to kill anyone before I get there.'

Hakkai smiled. He could hear it through the phone. 'I'll do my best, but I can't really vouch for anything at this point.'

Well, Gojyo thought as he pulled on his coat, that was more than he'd expected.

He normally hated having goons around him – he was more than capable of taking care of himself, and if he hadn't, the lessons Sanzo and Kanzeon had forced on him after the Stalker Episode, as he had since named it, would definitely have done it. Still, he found himself dialing Sanzo's number as he drove.

'What the bloody hell do you want now?' Sanzo snapped the minute he picked up.

'If you talk to all your callers like that I don't think you're going to be real successful.'

'I knew it was you, moron.'

'Aww, you have my number saved? That's so sweet of you.'

'Fuck off and tell me what you want.'

'At the same time? That's kind of tricky.'

Sanzo snarled. It was an actual snarl, like an animal. Gojyo was impressed. 'What. Is. It.'

'The press seems to have found out about Hakkai. I don't think it's going to get real bad, but could you run interference for me?'

There was a thoughtful silence from the other end.

'C'mon, Sanzo,' Gojyo wheedled. 'Just this once.'

A weary sigh, and he knew he'd won.

Hakkai opened the door to his house rather warily. They'd already taken several pictures of him in his pyjamas answering the door, dropping his jaw, slamming the door, opening the door again, picking up the milk, politely asking someone to please not trample the flowers, not-so-politely telling them to leave, right now, and Hakkai thought there wasn't much left to capture – but the press was crazy, and he didn't want to tempt the fates by trying to find out just how crazy they could be.

Goku was outside.

He beamed at Hakkai and whispered, 'Sanzo sent me. Can I come in?'

'Of course,' Hakkai said, a little surprised.

'Hey, hey, why don't you call Gojyo?' one of the journalists called. Hakkai shot him an icy look and was pleased when he clammed right up.

Goku closed the door behind them and leaned against it. 'Whoo,' he sighed. 'They asked me so many things I don't even know if I got the answers in the right order.' He looked at Hakkai and grinned. 'Relax, I didn't tell them anything about you and him. Just, you know. Who I am and stuff.'

'Oh.'

'What, didn't you see this coming?'

'Not…so soon,' Hakkai hedged.

'Anyway. Sanzo told me to get here. He says he and Gojyo cooked up some sort of plan to get you out of this mess.'

Hakkai was silent for a long minute. 'Should I be afraid?'

Goku gave it serious thought. 'Maybe?' he offered at the end. 'Oh, and Sanzo said to pack a small bag.'

Hakkai put a hand over his forehead. 'This doesn't sound like a very good idea.'

It very nearly wasn't.

Sanzo's idea of clearing up the mess involved was not remarkable for its subtlety. Or maybe he was trying to make Gojyo look stupid.

In either case, it worked, and Hakkai had no real complaints to make.

It went something like this:

Goku went out the front door and yelled to everyone that Hakkai was going to talk in five minutes.

Hakkai climbed down his house from the first-floor window with the aid of a ladder Goku had borrowed from the neighbour.

Sanzo pulled up in the street behind Hakkai's house.

One of the photographers noticed Hakkai slipping through his backyard.

A general uproar followed and Hakkai ran for it.

Gojyo jumped out of the car and started waving to him.

Sanzo hit him on the head for jumping out of the car and waving.

Hakkai vaulted over a hedge and through an unmowed lawn, while the paparazzi ran behind him.

Gojyo finally got back in the car.

Hakkai got in the car.

Sanzo drove.

All in all, Hakkai thought, a satisfactory, if not spectacularly daring rescue. At least there hadn't been any dragons involved. Perhaps the unholy roar of Sanzo's souped-up car could count.

They'd driven three minutes before Hakkai asked, 'Why isn't anyone following us?'

Sanzo snorted. 'I told Goku to puncture their tyres once they all started running after you. My guess is he's keeping them busy.'

'Thanks, man,' Gojyo said, clapping a hand over his shoulder. 'Seriously. I owe you one.'

Sanzo brushed it off irritably. 'Leave me alone. That's more than you usually do.'

'And tell Goku we're all having dinner together sometime. My treat.' Gojyo winked at him. 'He came through good.'

'Excuse me,' Hakkai said.

They both turned to look at him.

'Yeah?' Gojyo asked just as Sanzo said 'What?'

'Where are we going?'

Gojyo thought about that for a second. 'You've got a passport, right?'

'You're not honestly suggesting–'

'Someplace weird. Come on, you can't tell me you've never wanted to be whisked away by a superstar to a luxurious hotel in the vacation spot of your dreams.' Gojyo in full wheedle-mode, puppy eyes and boyish grin and thumb rubbing his wrist delicately. Hakkai began to smile.

'Ha,' said Sanzo.

They both looked at him.

'Ha,' he said again, and it wasn't a snort, was probably intended to be laughter. 'Ha. Ha. Ha.'

'Sanzo,' Gojyo said slowly. 'Are you all right?'

Sanzo began to laugh. 'You,' he said in between those creepy chuckles. 'You…and him…ha. Hahaha. Ha.'

'Uhh, Sanzo, you're kind of creeping me out here.'

Sanzo continued to chuckle.

'Mmm, now who's this delicious young man?'

Hakkai gaped. He simply couldn't help it. It took a serious effort to put his jaw back up and his eyes back in and direct them politely away from the truly spectacular (and barely covered) bosom of the woman who had draped herself over a couch and was now smiling - purring - at Gojyo. And staring at Hakkai as if she were taking his measurements.

'Hey, you're blushing,' Gojyo said and nudged him in the side.

'Oh. I-I'm...that is...' Hakkai cleared his throat. 'My name's Cho Hakkai. It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'Oh, there's no need to be that formal,' she laughed, deep and lovely. 'My name's Kanzeon Bosatsu, but just call me Kanzeon. Any friend of Gojyo's, as the saying goes. Although I must say he's never brought anyone here before.'

'About that,' Gojyo began. 'We kind of need to hole up for a while.' She raised an eyebrow, and he said, 'Not like that, just...the press. Me. Him. Aww, come on! You know the details, Sanzo talked to you.'

'But it's such fun to see you squirm, dear,' she said, swaying towards them. 'A few of the rooms are empty; I suppose I could get you things and keep your presence quiet. Confidentiality is the order of the day here, after all.'

'You're a sweetheart,' Gojyo said, and looked as if he'd have hugged her if Hakkai hadn't cleared his throat just then.

She produced a key from under her flowing and almost completely transparent top. 'Room number eight, Gojyo. You do remember where it is, don't you?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Gojyo said and took it. 'Thanks, Goddess. I owe you bigtime.'

'Pay me in videos,' she purred.

Feeling lost, Hakkai followed Gojyo up two flights of stairs to a corridor that looked like the interior of a fairly expensive hotel. 'Ah, Gojyo,' he said as they walked to the door, 'where exactly are we?'

'She's Sanzo's aunt,' Gojyo said. 'She runs the S&M club downstairs.'

'There's an S&M club downstairs.'

'In the basement.'

'Sanzo's aunt,' Hakkai parroted faithfully.

'Yep.' Gojyo grinned. 'She's quite a character. She raised him from childhood, you know.'

'Sanzo's aunt runs an S&M club,' Hakkai said again as Gojyo swung the door open. 'I think I'm beginning to understand why he is the way he is.'

Gojyo chuckled. 'Well, that's downstairs. She rents out upstairs for...different stuff.'

Hakkai stiffened. 'What, exactly?'

'Hey, nothing like that. It ain't a whorehouse, if that's what you're asking. These rooms are all fantasy stuff. Roleplay. Like, room number three's a fully-equipped classroom. And yeah, I mean fully. Costumes and all.'

Hakkai cleared his throat and looked around the room. It looked exactly like a million other hotel rooms did. 'And this one?'

'Is supposed to be a random hotel room.' Gojyo shrugged. 'Don't ask me why she decided to have this one. And don't, if you value your eyes, look in the closets in the bathroom. No, seriously. There's stuff in there that even freaks me out.'

'And this is our hideaway for...?'

'The next few days, anyway, until they cool off. Then I can get in touch with Yaone, tell her to fix things up so I don't have to give the psycho journalists the same information fifty times over and you don't have to lose your gardenias.' Gojyo shrugged. 'They're not going to leave you alone after this, anyway.'

'I believe I knew that.'

'Yeah, well. Advantages of being the boyfriend of the great Sha Gojyo.'

'Hmm,' Hakkai said ambiguously and smoothed out the crease on his shirt's collar. Smiled a little, to himself.

Gojyo poked him in the shoulder. 'Isn't it?' he asked again.

'Yes,' Hakkai replied dutifully and straightened the covers.

Over the last few weeks, Hakkai had seen Gojyo asleep twice; he knew, therefore, that there would be no snoring or drooling (which he was grateful for; he didn't want to feel compelled to do the laundry at three in the morning and it was simply not done to sleep on slobbered-upon sheets) or anything else likely to disturb. And Gojyo hadn't rolled or thrashed.

It felt safe, therefore, to suggest they share a bed. Gojyo's expression when Hakkai suggested separate rooms hadn't reassured him about the content of the other rooms, and there certainly wasn't a couch. Hakkai had thought of asking, but he knew what the answer was likely to be.

The problem, he thought, was that he hadn't realised that Gojyo, even asleep, had a fondness for cuddling.

Which was how he was now precariously balanced on the last inch of mattress, nearly falling off, while Gojyo migrated inexorably across the bed in his sleep.

Hakkai considered his options. Staying put would be useless; he'd fall off the minute he became unwary, and the carpet wasn't that thick. He could wait until Gojyo moved a little closer and clamber over him to the side of the wall, but that how he'd ended up on this side to begin with, and he knew that was only a temporary measure. Or he could wake Gojyo and tell him to go back to his side of the bed, and Gojyo would murmur some sort of agreement and go right back to sleep. None of them seemed worth the trouble.

It was really practical, he told himself as he moved across the bed and almost into Gojyo's arms. At the very least, it might make Gojyo stop moving, and he might even be able to sleep a little.

Gojyo snuffled happily into his neck and wrapped an arm and a leg around him from behind.

Well, fine, Hakkai thought, and it was, now that he had a logical reason to do it, and smiled.

When he opened his eyes again, it was still dark, and Gojyo was kissing his neck. His hand was splayed across Hakkai's stomach and he wa nuzzling into him.

'Gojyo,' Hakkai whispered, in case he was asleep.

A deep rumble against his neck, and the warmth behind him shifted a little, letting in a shivery blast of cold air on his neck. 'Mmm,' Gojyo said unhelpfully.

'Are you awake?'

He seemed to be now. 'Shut up, Hakkai,' Gojyo murmured and flicked the tip of his tongue against the base of Hakkai's neck. He shivered, and the arm around his waist tightened.

'What are you doing?' Pulling him closer, pressing them to each other until he could feel Gojyo warm against his back, neck to feet, his toes nudging Hakkai's, rubbing against the sole of his feet. Hakkai squirmed and bit down a giggle.

'You're ticklish!' Gojyo said gleefully and did it again, pressing his toenails into the arch of his foot.

'Gojyo,' Hakkai said through helpless laughter, wriggling in his arms. 'Go-gojyo, stop that! I-it...' and he began giggling again; Gojyo's arm was now sliding under his night shirt and along his ribs. Somehow, he managed to squirm around in Gojyo's arms, getting those amazingly flexible toes away from his feet. 'You're awful,' he accused Gojyo's collarbone, because it was evil and looked inviting.

'Mission accomplished,' Gojyo rumbled happily. Nose against his chest, Hakkai could feel the vibration when he spoke.

Hakkai laughed again, and it seemed natural to let his lips part a little against that soft warm skin in what wasn't exactly a kiss, but Gojyo seemed to think it was from the way he stilled suddenly, from the way his arms tightened, the tiny sharp hitch of his breath; so Hakkai did it again, a little higher up, and then higher, uncurling himself to his full height now that he was fairly sure Gojyo wasn't going to tickle him again (and what had brought that on in the first place?) to lick that lovely collarbone that had peeked out at him from behind ugly tank tops and sharp shirts for so long now. It tasted of Gojyo and sweat and smelt a little of Hakkai's shampoo, even, as if his hair had been pressed against it so long that it had transferred a little of its scent. He liked that, that trace of herbs on clean skin, so he bit down lightly and Gojyo's arms unlocked, one cupping the back of his neck so carefully it hurt, the other sliding down his side slowly, touch burning clear through the fabric of his shirt as if he were made of fire, bright red fire like his hair, which was tickling Hakkai's cheek as he trailed his mouth up his strong tanned throat.

'Hak-kai,' Gojyo said, and the hand behind his neck pulled him insistently upward. Hakkai resisted, sinking his teeth in a little sharper. Another tug, and he let go reluctantly. Gojyo's hand drew him up, slipped forward to hold his chin. 'Hakkai.'

Hakkai fixed his eyes on Gojyo's mouth. So lovely, curving, expressive. And not his. 'Yes?'

'What's going on?'

'I thought that was obvious.'

Gojyo removed his hands from Hakkai; braced them on his chest instead as if he was preparing to push him away. Hakkai closed his eyes, felt them against him, relishing that. Warmth. Life. Presence. Warmth. All he could want, have, right there. 'No,' Gojyo said, and he sounded lost. 'I don't get it.'

'Gojyo,' Hakkai said a trifle irritably, and he had cause, 'which part of this would you find hard to understand?'

Gojyo closed his eyes. 'You're not doing this if you don't want to.'

Hakkai opted to demonstrate.

Gojyo shuddered and ground back into him, as hard as Hakkai was getting. 'Okay,' he rasped. 'Okay.'

That was better, Hakkai decided, and let Gojyo kiss him with that wide smiling mouth, let him roll him back into soft sheets and press closer, half on, half beside him. Pulled him closer until he was sprawling over him and Hakkai was wrapped in him, the smell of him on the smooth sheets and the weight of him on his body, rubbing against him and listening as Gojyo made a strange growling sound and managed to squeeze a hand between them and stroke him. Loving the play of muscle on his back under Hakkai's hands, the quiet harsh sounds he choked off, the clever tongue snaking down his chest, the way their bodies shifted and fit in a whole new way when Hakkai parted his legs and let Gojyo between them. He'd wanted to focus, wanted to remember everything for when he wouldn't have it, but it wasn't happening; every time he made sure to commit some detail to memory, he missed out on a touch, a kiss, that wonderful terrifying voice, something always distracted him. He couldn't focus on the smooth hardness of Gojyo's shoulders when Gojyo was kissing his nipples like that, quick and delicate and teasing him just because, and he couldn't feel it when Gojyo finally drew one into his mouth and suckled like a baby because his other hand was wrapped around Hakkai, stroking and squeezing just so, and finally he gave up, lost himself and his purpose, slipping away in the shadow of his cries into the inky night. He wanted to see, wished desperately for a sliver of moonlight just to see the way it might wrap around Gojyo's body, to know what dips and planes it would caress with silver fingers, and he writhed desperately against him, muffling his cries in his neck.

'Easy,' Gojyo said, stroking down his flank with his large, strangely soft hands. 'Hey. You okay?'

'I'm fine,' Hakkai said, voice breaking on the last word as Gojyo stroked him again. It was almost too tender for him and it was worse than what had come before. He wriggled a little to get rid of the shirt Gojyo had pushed up to his neck, and that felt even better, and Gojyo whimpered and that was probably the best of all.

'Okay,' Gojyo said, and rolled off him.

'What?'

He was rooting around in the bedside table. 'Damn it,' he muttered to himself. 'Got to be there...told me I...wake a man like this and...find the damn...thing...'

'Ah, is there a problem?' Hakkai ventured.

'Ha!' Gojyo said triumphantly, waving something in the air. Hakkai squinted shortsightedly at it in the near-dark room. It looked like...oh.

Oh. Okay.

'You seem to know what you're doing, for a ladies' man.'

Gojyo huffed. 'Kanzeon likes strap-ons,' he confided. 'She's freaky.'

There was a moment of silence while they pondered that.

'I think I could have lived not knowing about that,' Hakkai said finally as Gojyo rolled back onto him.

It was nice to feel Gojyo shaking against him in laughter, he decided, and lifted his hips obligingly as the redhead tugged his pants down. Very nice. He was smiling at him, that big happy boyish smile, Hakkai could feel it on his skin even if he couldn't really see it. He started to tell him so, but Gojyo's finger sliding down, around and in stopped his voice with a gasp.

'Gojyo,' he whispered.

'What?'

'Nothing, really.'

'Yeah. I know what you mean.'

He spread his legs wider, quite sure that smile was going to stick to his face.

He didn't mind the idea at all.

Later, he couldn't remember much of it at all. Certainly not in the detailed way he'd imagined he'd remember it, the desperate clarity he'd summoned with Kanan the one time they'd had together before she'd been swallowed by hospitals and doctors and impersonal hands and white, white sheets. There were brief sense impressions, that was all. The feel of Gojyo's fingers in him, long and alien and curling strangely, touching where he hadn't been touched before. And the feel of Gojyo in him, different yet, the way that changed when Hakkai shifted and wrapped his legs around him and his arm around his neck and dragged him down for a kiss. Taste of sweat, taste of skin, of himself in Gojyo's mouth when he licked at those full lips. Those moans, so sweet to hear, the harsh sound of his breathing. Burying his face in Gojyo's neck, smelling and feeling him. Gojyo in him, thrusting, filling him, heat in him brushing just so where it felt so good he wanted to scream. Climax, perhaps the vaguest memory of all, just the lingering feel of pure joy and a moment of unthinking, falling almost into darkness.

He wouldn't forget it, ever, but neither would he be able to form a second-by-second image of it. That had blurred and been lost to him, somewhere when he'd begun drowning in Gojyo, the life and warmth and sweetness of him.

It took him ten minutes of blissful snuggling before he remembered what his agenda had been, and that it hadn't worked.

Gojyo was already half-asleep, snuggled close into him (skin-hunger, Hakkai thought fondly), arms and legs wrapped around him like some sort of octopus, breathing lightly into Hakkai's ear and tickling him, when Hakkai said ruefully, 'I don't remember everything.'

He hadn't intended it to be aloud, but Gojyo heard and stirred sluggishly. 'Whu?' he said.

Hakkai sighed and repeated himself.

Gojyo opened one eye and stared at him. '...okay?' he said tentatively. 'Sorry?'

'I wanted to remember everything.'

'Next time,' Gojyo said and yawned mightily. 'Now shut up and go to sleep. Spoiling the afterglow here.'

Next time. Of course.

Hakkai nodded obediently. 'Good night, Gojyo,' he said.

A soft contented purr was his only answer.

When he woke up, it was light, and Gojyo was staring at him, propped up on one elbow, red hair falling in his eyes, messy as ever, those bangs still sticking out crazily. 'Hey,' he said.

Hakkai chuckled. 'If you're already awake, it must be late.'

'Nine-ish.'

'Oh,' said Hakkai, surprised. Nine was late. He needed to eat breakfast, to call Goku and ask him if he'd made arrangements for a substitute chef for the night, ask him if he'd locked up the house properly...there was far too much to do. He threw the covers off the bed (neatly, of course) and made to swing his legs off, but Gojyo slung a leg over both of his and reached out with his free hand, trailing his fingertips down the side of Hakkai's neck.

'Stay,' Gojyo said, and his eyes were serious and his fingers twitched as if they wanted to dig into Hakkai's shoulders.

Hakkai fell back onto the sheets, the top of his head brushing Gojyo's arm, and smiled.

'Of course,' he said and kissed him.