A/N: Yes, it's a bit of a tired topic, but I had to try my hand. It's just too fun.
Disclaimer: Saiyuki doesn't belong to me, and I am not making money from the publication of this fiction.
Warnings: Language, but that's it. Really. Oh, and slight hints of Sanzo/Goku, but that's -extremely- slight.
***
Sanzo snapped his reading glasses open and relinquished himself to the first newspaper he'd gotten his hands on in quite a while. The articles were slightly outdated and there were half-circle coffee mug stains blurring some of the words, but it was a newspaper. It was an excuse to ignore the noise about him.
Noise. Come to think of it, the lack thereof that afternoon was slightly unsettling. The saru had found himself a niche in the kitchen downstairs with a pretty girl who was not averse to sneaking him scraps as she cooked. Gojyo had yet to emerge from his room, having gotten drunk enough the prior night (and far into the morning) to provide for a strong enough hangover to keep him down for at least another hour, noting their quarters provided no liquor of their own to soften the blow. Hakkai had gone out for supplies, busying himself with the comfortable monotony of general upkeep.
Sanzo lit the last cigarette in his pack and fervently wished Hakkai would hurry back to the inn. It had been awhile since they'd gotten the opportunity to really shop for supplies, though, so he resigned himself to the fact that he might have to suffer from withdrawal before the green-eyed youkai's return. The rough, brittle paper before his eyes was enough to satisfy him for the time being, but even a simple pleasure such as sitting and just reading could never override a favored addiction.
So, the dogend hung from his lips until it burned him and was smashed into an ashtray by way of retribution.
Sanzo glanced up from his private bout of vengeance at an unobtrusive knock. "I'm back," came Hakkai's voice from behind a heaping armful of supplies.
"Hn," Sanzo replied, discreetly wiping the ash from his hand onto the backside of his thigh. He took the pack Hakkai offered, noting the golden gleam of his credit card shining from its hiding place among the cigarettes inside the carton. In retrospect, the protective ritual was amusing.
"Can I leave these in here? I'll load Jiipu before we go." The little dragon from about Hakkai's neck chirped softly in agreement.
Sanzo shrugged one shoulder, never taking his eyes from his paper. Even the dripping head of hair soon hovering by his ear never once tore his attention from the news.
Gojyo reeled back, clutching his nose. Through his hand and a slight grin, he muttered, "One day I'll find out just where you keep that fan, Sanzo-sama."
"Feeling better, Gojyo?" Hakkai asked before Sanzo could build up a good enough silence to refuse to dignify Gojyo's comment.
"Aa. 'S amazing what a good, cold shower will do."
Sanzo quirked an eyebrow. There hadn't been mention of washroom facilities beyond a basin outside.
Gojyo waved an empty canteen in answer to the unspoken question. "I improvised."
Hakkai chuckled. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, but I need you to come with me before that. I require assistance."
Sanzo made a mental note, dripping with sarcasm, about the astonishing amount of syllables Gojyo had managed to string together in his current state. Hakkai followed Gojyo upon his request, leaving Hakuryuu with the supplies and Sanzo to his reading.
The monk leaned back in his chair and lit a fresh cigarette, savoring for just that moment the flavor unadulterated by dirt and noise.
A thud akin to something hard and solid ramming into an object equally characterized shot adrenaline through his body. The disturbance was soon followed by a loud, low moan that, for all the world, sounded painfully luxurious. Sanzo took off his glasses and reached inside his robe for the reassuring weight of the Smith & Wesson.
He crept from the room and into the hallway, finding the sounds emanating from behind Gojyo's closed door.
"Gomen, Gojyo, it's too big for me."
Sanzo's violet eyes widened a bare millimeter before he reined his expression back into place.
Heavy breathing and a bit of breathless laughter. "You can handle it fine. Let's try again."
Hakkai and Gojyo grunted in unison as a low creak brought to Sanzo's ears the cry of furniture stretching toward its breaking point. Sanzo settled upon the only conclusion that came to mind, and thus conveniently forgot to hate himself for continuing to listen.
"There, keep it there, Hakkai, I'm only partway..."
"Gojyo, I..." Breathless, Hakkai seemed unable to finish his sentence.
"Hold it, Hakkai, just hold it." Gojyo grunted again, and another thud accompanied the noise, though this didn't shake the walls as the earlier one had.
"Why...didn't...you just ask...Goku?" Hakkai asked between breaths.
Sanzo had to bite his fist to keep from screaming, and then cursed Hakkai for not only making him hurt himself but for even bringing Goku into the situation.
Gojyo laughed, then cut it off with another groan. "Damn, in there tight," he grunted. "I didn't...nngh...ask the saru because he doesn't get it! And hell, I'd never hear the end of it."
Sanzo tried to force the mental pictures away, but only succeeded in bringing to light the effect the saru could have on him. Disgusted with the entire circumstance, Sanzo forced himself to turn and nearly collided with the very boy he'd been trying to wipe from his thoughts.
"What's going on, Sanzo?" Goku asked, innocence radiating from every pore.
At that point, Sanzo relied on instinct. "Bakasaru!" he hissed, bringing the harisen soundly down upon Goku's head and rushing him away from Gojyo's room while he was still dazed.
Even with the barrier of an empty room and a hallway between them, Sanzo heard Hakkai cry, "Gojyo, I'm losing...losing it!"
This third and final thud not only shook the walls but brought with it an ominous cracking noise. Sanzo avoided Goku's questioning gaze. His only reassurance was the simple but effective mantra he repeated ever since having started his damn' journey to the West. 'I'll kill him for it.'
"Sanzo, should we go check on them?"
Before he could stop himself, a hoarse "No!" escaped his throat. Then, forcing his usual mannerism back into place, he repeated the edict. "No."
Hakkai appeared in the doorway moments later, wiping sweat from his forehead. "So, are we ready?"
Gojyo, hoisting his shakujou over his shoulder with a grin, replied, "I am. May as well get going, eh?"
Hakkai nodded with a small smile. "Yes, but, well...Sanzo-sama, could I borrow your credit card again? It seems we've done a bit of damage to Gojyo's room."
"Not my fault the bed's heavy," Gojyo interjected, a leer twisting his features as in every other comment of questionable nature.
"Yes, well, the floor will need to be repaired, and that says nothing for the wall."
Goku jumped when Sanzo slammed the card down on the table. "Stop!...talking. I'll...I'll be outside." The monk strode from the room, the contentment of his newspaper forgotten.
Gojyo raised an eyebrow. "What's eating him?"
Disclaimer: Saiyuki doesn't belong to me, and I am not making money from the publication of this fiction.
Warnings: Language, but that's it. Really. Oh, and slight hints of Sanzo/Goku, but that's -extremely- slight.
***
Sanzo snapped his reading glasses open and relinquished himself to the first newspaper he'd gotten his hands on in quite a while. The articles were slightly outdated and there were half-circle coffee mug stains blurring some of the words, but it was a newspaper. It was an excuse to ignore the noise about him.
Noise. Come to think of it, the lack thereof that afternoon was slightly unsettling. The saru had found himself a niche in the kitchen downstairs with a pretty girl who was not averse to sneaking him scraps as she cooked. Gojyo had yet to emerge from his room, having gotten drunk enough the prior night (and far into the morning) to provide for a strong enough hangover to keep him down for at least another hour, noting their quarters provided no liquor of their own to soften the blow. Hakkai had gone out for supplies, busying himself with the comfortable monotony of general upkeep.
Sanzo lit the last cigarette in his pack and fervently wished Hakkai would hurry back to the inn. It had been awhile since they'd gotten the opportunity to really shop for supplies, though, so he resigned himself to the fact that he might have to suffer from withdrawal before the green-eyed youkai's return. The rough, brittle paper before his eyes was enough to satisfy him for the time being, but even a simple pleasure such as sitting and just reading could never override a favored addiction.
So, the dogend hung from his lips until it burned him and was smashed into an ashtray by way of retribution.
Sanzo glanced up from his private bout of vengeance at an unobtrusive knock. "I'm back," came Hakkai's voice from behind a heaping armful of supplies.
"Hn," Sanzo replied, discreetly wiping the ash from his hand onto the backside of his thigh. He took the pack Hakkai offered, noting the golden gleam of his credit card shining from its hiding place among the cigarettes inside the carton. In retrospect, the protective ritual was amusing.
"Can I leave these in here? I'll load Jiipu before we go." The little dragon from about Hakkai's neck chirped softly in agreement.
Sanzo shrugged one shoulder, never taking his eyes from his paper. Even the dripping head of hair soon hovering by his ear never once tore his attention from the news.
Gojyo reeled back, clutching his nose. Through his hand and a slight grin, he muttered, "One day I'll find out just where you keep that fan, Sanzo-sama."
"Feeling better, Gojyo?" Hakkai asked before Sanzo could build up a good enough silence to refuse to dignify Gojyo's comment.
"Aa. 'S amazing what a good, cold shower will do."
Sanzo quirked an eyebrow. There hadn't been mention of washroom facilities beyond a basin outside.
Gojyo waved an empty canteen in answer to the unspoken question. "I improvised."
Hakkai chuckled. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, but I need you to come with me before that. I require assistance."
Sanzo made a mental note, dripping with sarcasm, about the astonishing amount of syllables Gojyo had managed to string together in his current state. Hakkai followed Gojyo upon his request, leaving Hakuryuu with the supplies and Sanzo to his reading.
The monk leaned back in his chair and lit a fresh cigarette, savoring for just that moment the flavor unadulterated by dirt and noise.
A thud akin to something hard and solid ramming into an object equally characterized shot adrenaline through his body. The disturbance was soon followed by a loud, low moan that, for all the world, sounded painfully luxurious. Sanzo took off his glasses and reached inside his robe for the reassuring weight of the Smith & Wesson.
He crept from the room and into the hallway, finding the sounds emanating from behind Gojyo's closed door.
"Gomen, Gojyo, it's too big for me."
Sanzo's violet eyes widened a bare millimeter before he reined his expression back into place.
Heavy breathing and a bit of breathless laughter. "You can handle it fine. Let's try again."
Hakkai and Gojyo grunted in unison as a low creak brought to Sanzo's ears the cry of furniture stretching toward its breaking point. Sanzo settled upon the only conclusion that came to mind, and thus conveniently forgot to hate himself for continuing to listen.
"There, keep it there, Hakkai, I'm only partway..."
"Gojyo, I..." Breathless, Hakkai seemed unable to finish his sentence.
"Hold it, Hakkai, just hold it." Gojyo grunted again, and another thud accompanied the noise, though this didn't shake the walls as the earlier one had.
"Why...didn't...you just ask...Goku?" Hakkai asked between breaths.
Sanzo had to bite his fist to keep from screaming, and then cursed Hakkai for not only making him hurt himself but for even bringing Goku into the situation.
Gojyo laughed, then cut it off with another groan. "Damn, in there tight," he grunted. "I didn't...nngh...ask the saru because he doesn't get it! And hell, I'd never hear the end of it."
Sanzo tried to force the mental pictures away, but only succeeded in bringing to light the effect the saru could have on him. Disgusted with the entire circumstance, Sanzo forced himself to turn and nearly collided with the very boy he'd been trying to wipe from his thoughts.
"What's going on, Sanzo?" Goku asked, innocence radiating from every pore.
At that point, Sanzo relied on instinct. "Bakasaru!" he hissed, bringing the harisen soundly down upon Goku's head and rushing him away from Gojyo's room while he was still dazed.
Even with the barrier of an empty room and a hallway between them, Sanzo heard Hakkai cry, "Gojyo, I'm losing...losing it!"
This third and final thud not only shook the walls but brought with it an ominous cracking noise. Sanzo avoided Goku's questioning gaze. His only reassurance was the simple but effective mantra he repeated ever since having started his damn' journey to the West. 'I'll kill him for it.'
"Sanzo, should we go check on them?"
Before he could stop himself, a hoarse "No!" escaped his throat. Then, forcing his usual mannerism back into place, he repeated the edict. "No."
Hakkai appeared in the doorway moments later, wiping sweat from his forehead. "So, are we ready?"
Gojyo, hoisting his shakujou over his shoulder with a grin, replied, "I am. May as well get going, eh?"
Hakkai nodded with a small smile. "Yes, but, well...Sanzo-sama, could I borrow your credit card again? It seems we've done a bit of damage to Gojyo's room."
"Not my fault the bed's heavy," Gojyo interjected, a leer twisting his features as in every other comment of questionable nature.
"Yes, well, the floor will need to be repaired, and that says nothing for the wall."
Goku jumped when Sanzo slammed the card down on the table. "Stop!...talking. I'll...I'll be outside." The monk strode from the room, the contentment of his newspaper forgotten.
Gojyo raised an eyebrow. "What's eating him?"
