A/N: Welcome to chapter two. This one's slightly sillier than the first one, because eight hours of driving and a pack of Red Vines aren't conductive to the best angst. But I like it anyway.
Warnings: Besides the other stuff, the OOC is a little more pronounced. But I thought up Gojyo's extended metaphor, giggled at it, and had to use it. Also, fluffy silliness.
Hakkai's full answer is "No, he shouldn't," in case anybody gets confused. I meant it that way, but I decided to be nice and illuminate further. Hee, it takes Gojyo a good fifteen minutes to figure it out himself...
Happy readage ^.^ Sanzo's chapter will come as soon as I figure it out.
***
Hakkai:
*
Oh, God. He's so good, good enough to back up his claims. I didn't think anyone could meet that. And yet, somehow, he made me ignore the rain because he took precedence. Twice. Oh, God, twice.
I put my hand to my forehead, letting the hot bathwater drip between my eyes. I shouldn't have done that this morning. Because it proves that wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. Then again, maybe I underestimate the power of Gojyo's obliviousness. He is no Sanzo.
I can't stop it; a little indulgent, guilty chuckle escapes me. They both taste vaguely of ashtrays. But Sanzo caught on to things I hadn't known I'd revealed.
Rainy nights, as a rule, are spent with Sanzo. Thinking, drinking, and even talking sometimes. It's an old ritual, but we never run out of thoughts, words, or sake. The final in particular, the first night he kissed me. It was determined, despite his inebriation, and deliberate. I was half as drunk but twice as physically lonely, unless there's another meaning behind his chakra. From what little I've learned, I doubt it.
My shock at his first touch dissolved when I realized my own need. We stole from one another, taking everything but love, until he realized how much sorrow was bottled behind our lips. He wiped the tear from my face, sucked it from his thumb, and almost smiled. We stayed up the rest of that night, silent and staring out the window to the pouring sky. I sigh a bit at the memory, then tense as the door opens.
"Mind sharing?" Gojyo asks, dropping his towel and hopping in without awaiting a reply. I'd never refused him before, so why should anything change? I hide a frown at his casuality and suddenly realize I didn't want him to act differently. So why does it hurt?
Sanzo knows; he practically said it himself. I'd gone to his room last night, awaiting the ritual I'd come to depend on, wondering if he would choose that night to touch me again, the sudden catharsis he only initiated on the right nights. I found him leaning on the windowsill, as close to the pouring rain as he had ever been, showing only his profile to the door.
He rolled one violet eye toward me and murmured, "I don't love you. What the hell are you doing here?"
So offset was I by this deceptively soft baritone that I didn't respond for several minutes. He blinked lazily and put his face on his hand.
"Ask a stupid question and you know what happens."
I smiled out of reflex, finally understanding. "How long?"
He pulled his gun on me, closed one eye, and replied, "Forever. Get out."
Thinking back, if I had asked why, he probably -would- have shot me. Stupid questions protect you sometimes.
So I'd gone out like a man on a mission, intent on some form of vindication, and I got it. Unfortunately for my sense of normalcy. I should have thought before I went to him, should not have gone at all. But Sanzo's words were heady and I lost my sense.
Gojyo stretches long, lanky arms over his head and lets out an appreciative grunt. He grins at me and says, "Sanzo took the saru off by his ear and threw him in the other basin across the hall. Said he smelled worse than the rest of us combined." He shrugs, lazy contentment settling over him. "I wasn't going to stay for -that- little love-fest. Can't stand the smell of wet animal."
I smile a little because I am unable to help it. A real smile, one he should know. He turns to face me, looking straight into my eyes, and probably doesn't see it.
He drawls, "So, Hakkai, d'you like puzzles? You used to be a teacher." His grin quirks. "So it should be easy."
The wet ends of his hair cling to his chest as he sits up, dropping his hands into the water to warm them. I just wait for the blow to come.
"Imagine, if you will, a child who adores candy. There's always a jar full of it on a counter just out of his reach, and he knows his mother will catch him if he tries to steal any. The reprimand almost makes the candy not worth a try." He pauses to see if I am listening, runs a wet hand through his hair, and makes sure my eyes are attentively upon his face. "Then, suddenly, his mother gives him a piece. It's wonderful stuff, and he's grateful for it, but he has no idea why he got it. The next day, the jar is set on a lower shelf and he receives another piece. It is almost as if he has been allowed to take a taste whenever he wants, but his mother and her punishments could still apply." He grins, satisfied with his metaphor. "My question is, what triggered his mother's sudden generosity, and should that little boy forget about sugar for the rest of his life?"
"That's two," I softly reply, sinking into the water until my chin hits the surface.
Gojyo shrugs. "Pick one, then," he says, fronting endless patience.
I look to my hands and find the skin puckered from soaking too long. I stand and half the water comes with me, sliding off slow and hitting the floor as I get out, wrap a towel about myself, and glance back to Gojyo.
"No."
I'm in my room and dressed before he comes to me, hair dripping but not freshly soaked. His clothes stick to the dampness still on his skin. "Oka-san," he says, "may I spoil my dinner?"
I raise an eyebrow, but his mirth, surprisingly enough, is contagious. Perhaps I am happy too. "We may have to limit you," I reply, tugging at his shirt. "Don't want you getting fat now, do we?"
"That'll be your problem, won't it?" he counters, kissing the corner of my mouth in his pleading little way. I might just have let him have his way but the saru burst in at that moment.
Gojyo must really be rubbing off on me if that's what I'm calling Goku. I have enough time to think that before Gojyo disengages himself from me, advancing instead upon the stunned Goku. I grab the back of his shirt before he gets close enough to maim.
"Can I help you?" I ask, maintaining a firm grip on Gojyo.
Goku blinks, grins, and cries, "I heard you! There's -candy- in here! Can I have some?"
Before I realize it, I'm laughing so hard my shoulders are shaking. Gojyo's laughing too, doubled over in a convulsive fit.
Goku frowns and says, "I -saw- you, too. I'll tell Sanzo if you don't share! You two were...were..."
I smile and nudge him out the door. "Do tell me what he has to say about it."
Gojyo snorts and slams the door behind him, leaning against it as Goku's footsteps slam down the hall. He grins at me, pulls me against him, and murmurs, "'Share,' he says!" so I laugh again against him. "Mine," he growls, proceeding to try and suck my tongue out by the root. Somewhere down the hall I hear the sounds of a harisen crashing down, and the moment suits me just fine.
Warnings: Besides the other stuff, the OOC is a little more pronounced. But I thought up Gojyo's extended metaphor, giggled at it, and had to use it. Also, fluffy silliness.
Hakkai's full answer is "No, he shouldn't," in case anybody gets confused. I meant it that way, but I decided to be nice and illuminate further. Hee, it takes Gojyo a good fifteen minutes to figure it out himself...
Happy readage ^.^ Sanzo's chapter will come as soon as I figure it out.
***
Hakkai:
*
Oh, God. He's so good, good enough to back up his claims. I didn't think anyone could meet that. And yet, somehow, he made me ignore the rain because he took precedence. Twice. Oh, God, twice.
I put my hand to my forehead, letting the hot bathwater drip between my eyes. I shouldn't have done that this morning. Because it proves that wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. Then again, maybe I underestimate the power of Gojyo's obliviousness. He is no Sanzo.
I can't stop it; a little indulgent, guilty chuckle escapes me. They both taste vaguely of ashtrays. But Sanzo caught on to things I hadn't known I'd revealed.
Rainy nights, as a rule, are spent with Sanzo. Thinking, drinking, and even talking sometimes. It's an old ritual, but we never run out of thoughts, words, or sake. The final in particular, the first night he kissed me. It was determined, despite his inebriation, and deliberate. I was half as drunk but twice as physically lonely, unless there's another meaning behind his chakra. From what little I've learned, I doubt it.
My shock at his first touch dissolved when I realized my own need. We stole from one another, taking everything but love, until he realized how much sorrow was bottled behind our lips. He wiped the tear from my face, sucked it from his thumb, and almost smiled. We stayed up the rest of that night, silent and staring out the window to the pouring sky. I sigh a bit at the memory, then tense as the door opens.
"Mind sharing?" Gojyo asks, dropping his towel and hopping in without awaiting a reply. I'd never refused him before, so why should anything change? I hide a frown at his casuality and suddenly realize I didn't want him to act differently. So why does it hurt?
Sanzo knows; he practically said it himself. I'd gone to his room last night, awaiting the ritual I'd come to depend on, wondering if he would choose that night to touch me again, the sudden catharsis he only initiated on the right nights. I found him leaning on the windowsill, as close to the pouring rain as he had ever been, showing only his profile to the door.
He rolled one violet eye toward me and murmured, "I don't love you. What the hell are you doing here?"
So offset was I by this deceptively soft baritone that I didn't respond for several minutes. He blinked lazily and put his face on his hand.
"Ask a stupid question and you know what happens."
I smiled out of reflex, finally understanding. "How long?"
He pulled his gun on me, closed one eye, and replied, "Forever. Get out."
Thinking back, if I had asked why, he probably -would- have shot me. Stupid questions protect you sometimes.
So I'd gone out like a man on a mission, intent on some form of vindication, and I got it. Unfortunately for my sense of normalcy. I should have thought before I went to him, should not have gone at all. But Sanzo's words were heady and I lost my sense.
Gojyo stretches long, lanky arms over his head and lets out an appreciative grunt. He grins at me and says, "Sanzo took the saru off by his ear and threw him in the other basin across the hall. Said he smelled worse than the rest of us combined." He shrugs, lazy contentment settling over him. "I wasn't going to stay for -that- little love-fest. Can't stand the smell of wet animal."
I smile a little because I am unable to help it. A real smile, one he should know. He turns to face me, looking straight into my eyes, and probably doesn't see it.
He drawls, "So, Hakkai, d'you like puzzles? You used to be a teacher." His grin quirks. "So it should be easy."
The wet ends of his hair cling to his chest as he sits up, dropping his hands into the water to warm them. I just wait for the blow to come.
"Imagine, if you will, a child who adores candy. There's always a jar full of it on a counter just out of his reach, and he knows his mother will catch him if he tries to steal any. The reprimand almost makes the candy not worth a try." He pauses to see if I am listening, runs a wet hand through his hair, and makes sure my eyes are attentively upon his face. "Then, suddenly, his mother gives him a piece. It's wonderful stuff, and he's grateful for it, but he has no idea why he got it. The next day, the jar is set on a lower shelf and he receives another piece. It is almost as if he has been allowed to take a taste whenever he wants, but his mother and her punishments could still apply." He grins, satisfied with his metaphor. "My question is, what triggered his mother's sudden generosity, and should that little boy forget about sugar for the rest of his life?"
"That's two," I softly reply, sinking into the water until my chin hits the surface.
Gojyo shrugs. "Pick one, then," he says, fronting endless patience.
I look to my hands and find the skin puckered from soaking too long. I stand and half the water comes with me, sliding off slow and hitting the floor as I get out, wrap a towel about myself, and glance back to Gojyo.
"No."
I'm in my room and dressed before he comes to me, hair dripping but not freshly soaked. His clothes stick to the dampness still on his skin. "Oka-san," he says, "may I spoil my dinner?"
I raise an eyebrow, but his mirth, surprisingly enough, is contagious. Perhaps I am happy too. "We may have to limit you," I reply, tugging at his shirt. "Don't want you getting fat now, do we?"
"That'll be your problem, won't it?" he counters, kissing the corner of my mouth in his pleading little way. I might just have let him have his way but the saru burst in at that moment.
Gojyo must really be rubbing off on me if that's what I'm calling Goku. I have enough time to think that before Gojyo disengages himself from me, advancing instead upon the stunned Goku. I grab the back of his shirt before he gets close enough to maim.
"Can I help you?" I ask, maintaining a firm grip on Gojyo.
Goku blinks, grins, and cries, "I heard you! There's -candy- in here! Can I have some?"
Before I realize it, I'm laughing so hard my shoulders are shaking. Gojyo's laughing too, doubled over in a convulsive fit.
Goku frowns and says, "I -saw- you, too. I'll tell Sanzo if you don't share! You two were...were..."
I smile and nudge him out the door. "Do tell me what he has to say about it."
Gojyo snorts and slams the door behind him, leaning against it as Goku's footsteps slam down the hall. He grins at me, pulls me against him, and murmurs, "'Share,' he says!" so I laugh again against him. "Mine," he growls, proceeding to try and suck my tongue out by the root. Somewhere down the hall I hear the sounds of a harisen crashing down, and the moment suits me just fine.