Bad Company

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Summary: Constantly on high alert, Genjo Sanzo, the egotistic president of Kinzan Publishing Co., had always derided the threats made on his life. Like hell he cared about that. Putting Son Goku, his ever-optimistic, ever-dogging assistant, in said harm's way, however, caused the pompous man to seek and spill blood for the first time in his solitary life.

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A/N: Sorry for the double post omg. Safari hang up on me and screwed up the documents and I had to repost Chapter 5 and this chapter! DX

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The clamor of people rang throughout the halls. From all around, the ear-grating sound of the microphone screeching bellowed in the air, and Sanzo tutted, and tapped the mic again.

"Test—okay. As you all know, we are neck and neck with Houtou this first quarter of the year, and I intend to keep it up to that. Our subsidiary, Keiun Publishing, is also doing a very great job of not getting slaughtered by Godworks and Golden Pendants this year. Hell, maybe we could exceed these companies next quarter. Apparently, putting the romances on the shelves was a good move. Sha, you'll get to throw a party for your department for that."

The crowd cheered and clapped as they looked at the back of the hall, where Jien stomped and held himself back as he raised a fist in the air, chortling as Yaone giggled and held him back from whooping too much in joy. Behind them, Gojyo and Goku stood by the doorway, holding back laughs of their own.

"So, if you have any other suggestions on how to improve our line, do so now. If not, hell, you could all go to lunch or something."

Some of the editors clapped and grinned, while the others shrugged and looked at some of the people, waiting for the others to say something. The idle chatter of the crowd simmered down, the atmosphere quite relaxed.

"If there's none, we could just call it a—"

The murmuring of the crowd's idle chatter slowly came to a halt, however, when a hand raised from the front, and Sanzo shrugged and let Homura take the floor.

"Attention, everyone. Let's not be hasty in our departure just yet," he smiled to the crowd. "The president hasn't raised the question that is the most important question of all."

"The fuck are you talking about?" came Sanzo's echoing reply from the side of the podium, and Homura chuckled.

"Everyone, let's not forget about the incident a few months back. Surely, we were hired in Kinzan for a reason, right?" The glib smile on Homura's face graced the crowd, and his arms were held open as he spoke. "As we all know, there's another recent murder involving one of Houtou's employees—"

"Hag, are you hearing this shit?" Sanzo hissed and pointed at Homura as he went down the podium and glared at his aunt. Kanzeon shrugged with nonchalance, an amused smile painted on her lips.

"Yes I am, and I like what I'm hearing," and she glanced at Homura. "Konzen, I sometimes think it would've been better if he were my nephew, don't you think? He has charisma without sounding like a goon."

"Feh. It would've done me a lot good, then," he drawled as he held up an unlit cigarette to his lips and raised an eyebrow at Homura's little pep talk.

Kanzeon giggled, and draped her elbow on Sanzo's shoulder, her voice laced with sweetness as she turned her violet eyes to Sanzo's frown, "Then maybe I might have given Goku to him if that were the case."

The cigarette in Sanzo's lips snapped in half as he looked at her with a murderous glare. "You wouldn't fucking dare."

"Oh? But you wouldn't be my relative, therefore I wouldn't have any reason to take care of you, or give Goku to you." Her tone dripped with sheer amusement at seeing her nephew giving her the eyes of a cold-blooded man.

Sanzo snarled and said nothing more, and whipped his head back to the podium, where Homura kept smiling and talking to the crowd.

"—and I would like to address our beloved president, Genjo Sanzo, to direct us about the reality behind Houtou House, and what measures we could take to ensure all of the Kinzan employees' safety," Homura glanced at Goku standing by the exit, then at Sanzo. "President, we were all hired, and some of us here are living in Kinzan, because we have a very specific set of skills. And maybe, perhaps—now is the best time for us to... test those skills against the very company that openly wants you dead?"

The crowd fell into a complete hush as all eyes fell on Kinzan's president.

Sighing, Sanzo removed Kanzeon's elbow on his shoulder and returned to the podium, his eyebrow twitching at Homura's bow and knowing smirk, and the black-haired man returned to his seat.

"If you're thinking about me getting shot and having another idiot take that shot—" Sanzo started, ignoring the pairs of eyes that glanced Goku's way, "—then no, I don't want your skills to be tested, and end up dying for my sake. That's just shit." The crowd's murmurs reached his ears, and Sanzo gritted his teeth at some of the pleading eyes, silently telling him that they wanted to help their president.

Kanzeon's leadership prior to him taking over was drilled deeply into Kinzan's core, it seemed—

—'everyone under Kinzan's care will follow their present leader and keep him safe until another one takes over,' those have been her words, and they were following it through and through.

"But."

Hopeful eyes snapped to the front, looking at Sanzo with bated breath. From the doorway, the blond could tell that Goku looked rigid in his stance, with a churning flame waiting to bloom from his golden eyes.

The brunet was waiting for an order.

"If there would come another day when Kinzan would be attacked, I want every one of you to hold nothing back. Kill or be killed. I'm fucking sure you all know your weapons and know where to get aid if anyone's injured."

The solemn nods of some of the employees met Sanzo's approving, yet stern stare, and he nodded back when he saw Goku smile. "Kinzan is, as you are all aware, not entirely a normal publishing house. Just as Houtou is also not a normal publishing house. The only difference we have from Houtou is we don't condone killing amongst our fucking own. And if I hear someone trying to pull that shit here, I'm going to make sure you'll go west and never see another sunrise. Got it?"

A loud and resounding, "Yes, sir!" rang in the room, and Sanzo waved his hand in dismissal.

"Well, what are you still doing here? Go on and have lunch."

The loud clattering of chairs and cheerful cacophony of voices bounded all around, and Sanzo finally let out a deep sigh as the people slowly flowed towards the exit, and he went down the podium with a scowl directed to Homura.

"What shit did you try to pull just now?" the blond growled at Homura's condescending smile.

"I assure you, Konzen, I'm merely reminding them why they remain in Kinzan. Under you and the vice president's orders, we will move according to what you two say. And if you two are threatened in any way, especially in front of our eyes—" Homura patted Sanzo's shoulder, and his face turned to sheer amusement, "—we'll slaughter them to pieces."

"Hn. Are you sure that's not your hate for Houtou speaking? Don't drag everyone in this building for your revenge." Sanzo lazily drawled with narrowed eyes, and he swatted Homura's hand away. From a distance, Goku jogged his way towards the blond, his usual grin in place. Sanzo glanced at the brunet, and set his face in his usual, bored expression, and walked away from Homura.

"But Konzen, wasn't it you who started this mission?" Homura retorted with a smile, and his blue and golden eyes shifted to Goku, who now stood near Sanzo—oblivious to it all.

The blond stopped in his tracks, and turned to him with a sidelong glare.

"Don't compare me to you."

And Sanzo went away, with Goku following him closely. Homura huffed, a toothy grin splitting his face as he chuckled.

"You know, Ms. Kanzeon, your nephew is amusing."

Kanzeon, who had been talking to a bumbling Jiroushin, turned to the grinning man. "What did he do this time?"

Homura shrugged, his eyes following the blond and the brunet's retreating backs. Goku cheered something to Sanzo, to which the latter replied with ruffling Goku's hair. "He is unaware of his actions, isn't he? He cannot completely follow what his father taught him."

She laughed, her stacked bracelets clinking against each other as she tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "He is stubborn like that. I am sure he is still following them—at least he thinks he's still following them. But that child of mine is worming his way between Koumyou's 'non-attachment rule' and Konzen himself. Pretty sure he's not aware of it. But isn't it nice, though? My little nephew is finally growing up," she giggled, and patted Homura's back. "Maybe someday you could find someone who could change you as well."

"That someone is dead, Ms. Kanzeon."

"I know. That's why you don't need to drag my whole company down to your revenge plot. I know how Konzen gets when people that he refuses to admit are close to him are harmed."

She twirled a piece of his fringe in her hand, and gave him a little smile—her words an echo of a warning.

"You'll be unleashing hell."

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Sanzo stared and glared at the documents piled on his desk. To think that his work in the office wasn't enough, his aunt thought it was a good idea to give him work at home, too.

"That hag better give me a fucking year off for this."

"But Sanzo, you're the boss," laughed Goku from Sanzo's bed, "you should be the one doing your year off. You can do it!"

"Fuck you, too."

Goku rolled on the bed and snickered, and turned his attention back to the book that he bought last week. He had already finished reading Houtou's Meurtre de Humain three days ago, much to Sanzo's chagrin. The man had yet to glance at the book, not that Goku expected him to pick it up and continue reading it again.

He had already finished looking over the large list of names that Gojyo had sent to Sanzo, but contrary to what the blond expected, Kami had never been a client of Banri. And Sanzo had taken a step back, and tried to analyze—again—who Meurtre de Humain's author was. If many of Houtou authors' works were based on their personal experiences, then Gojyo's report about it involving an underground alliance might not be far off.

Goku heard the creaking of the swivel chair, and glanced to where Sanzo leaned against it, and stared listlessly on the ceiling, mumbling softly to himself. "You need a break?" the brunet asked as he rolled over, looking curiously at Sanzo's upside-down form from the edge of the bed.

"Nah," the blond idly replied as he puffed on a cigarette, "I'm just mentally wringing myself with all this shit."

Goku folded the edge of a page's corner and closed the book, and went over to the frowning blond. "Need more help?"

"I'm good," Sanzo muttered, letting a steady waft of smoke swirl to Goku's face, and smirked upon seeing the brunet scratch his nose.

"One of these days, you're going to permanently taste like complete ash, you know—and that's not good," Goku frowned as the blond puffed more of the stick. Fighting back another word of reprimand, he took away the cigarette from Sanzo's unresisting lips.

Sanzo blew out the last stream of smoke from his lips and watched as Goku took the half-full ashtray and flattened the butt there. "Planning on making me quit?" he asked with a lopsided simper, his steady gaze not leaving Goku's face. Looking at him from upside-down made the brunet look funny.

"No. Just wished you could cut back a bit," Goku mumbled, and placed the ashtray on the desk. He held his arms akimbo and stared down at the purple-eyed man, and noticed his barely there upward curling of lips. "What?"

"Nothing."

Goku hummed, bit his inner cheek in thought, and regarded the pale man's nearly relaxed mood.

He bit back a grin as his eyes took in Sanzo's calm form—and loosely snaked his arms around Sanzo's shoulders, his fingers trailing down, toying with the buttons of the blond's shirt.

"Hey. What are you doing."

A playful chuckle trickled to Sanzo's ears, the sharp hiss from the brunet making his spine tingle—

"Nothing," Goku parroted with a knowing grin to his ear.

A button popped from its confines, and teeth grazed a slow trail over pale skin—from nape to jaw—relishing in the sight of tiny, raised hairs left in its wake. Nibbling on a gradually reddening lobe—Sanzo was sensitive like that—Goku grinned at Sanzo's labored breathing, his parted, ruddy lips trembling into a breathless whisper, his eyes fluttering close as Goku's fingers popped another button open, nails lightly tracing the expanse of jutting bone and toned flesh.

"Goku."

Canines bit onto Sanzo's jugular, sucking noisily on the pulsating skin there—and he moaned in appreciation upon having a strong hand dig into his scalp and keep his place there.

Another button popped, and a clawed hand raked nails down the sinewy torso, and he licked the blotched skin as streaks of flushed pink followed the wandering hand. Glazed, golden eyes noticed the minute undulating of hips from beneath his fingertips, and Goku popped another button, groaning as Sanzo's nails scratched his scalp—

Goku's middle finger ghosted over the inviting sternum, twirling the pad of his finger around as Sanzo's hold on the brown locks slackened the slightest, his pale digits smoothing and scrunching and pulling on Goku's hair all the same.

A guttural moan was ripped from Goku's throat as Sanzo craned his head and firmly bit on a tanned neck, covertly fervent lips and mouth capturing the flesh in a raspy suction, and Goku let out a breathy laugh on pale and heated skin—

Goku's other hand roughly pulled Sanzo's shirt from the confines of his slacks, rumpling the cloth in his ardent hold, and he deftly pried the long sleeve and his slacks open with his hands. His tongue flattened against a bobbing Adam's apple, wetting it before engulfing it in his mouth, sucking it—and Sanzo's hand tugged roughly on his hair and pulled Goku away.

The brunet whined, a long and needy 'what' leaving his glistening lips—

"What are you doing," Sanzo rasped as he stared at Goku's flushed face and puffed up lips dampened with saliva. On instinct, his thumb brushed against those inviting lips—

"Making you cut back on your smokes," Goku replied with a grin, his tongue darting out to Sanzo's thumb, and briefly sucked on it. The blond hummed in response, and pulled Goku to his parched mouth, both groaning into the kiss as their hands clenched into fists and tugged and pulled on hair and clothes—

Work forgotten, Sanzo hauled Goku by the back of his thighs, fighting back a grin as the brunet's arms and legs reflexively wrapped around his shoulders and waist—and dropped him to his bed, mouths rejoining into open-mouthed, searing kisses and responsive moans. A wistful sigh left Goku's lips as Sanzo pulled away from the kiss and insistently tugged at the brunet's shirt—

"Impatient, aren't you?" Goku breathed with a mischievous laugh, his clouded, ocher eyes grinning at Sanzo's annoyance.

—and the blond growled at Goku's words, and tore the brunet's shirt, its buttons leaping from the threads.

Clammy hands drifted on the exposed skin, fingertips brushing over the tanned flesh. His mauve eyes roved over the dips and raises that he had rarely seen—the taut peaks of his dusky nipples, the healed scar on his rib, the jutting clavicles that were practically begging to be bitten—

—the large, four-rayed sun tattoo that painted his skin.

Sanzo had always remarked how odd it was for the feisty brunet to have a tattoo on his abdomen. Yet seeing it now, with its heavy, black ink complementing the bronzed skin, he muttered no complaints as he worshipped Goku's ink with his lips, tracing his parted mouth on the wavy rays from the sternum to navel, his tongue lapping on the circle, and his teeth nibbling and toying on the thick and flowing cursive symbol of 'perfect' inside the sun—

A keening whine slipped past Goku, muttering a silent plea as heated breath played and fanned on his skin, his blood singing in his veins as Sanzo dipped lower, the hunger pooling in their tongues—

The forceful hands clawed at Goku's jeans, his teeth biting onto a stubborn button and zipper, and violently tore it from too willing legs, and he threw it far from the bed. When it revealed jutting hipbones, bronzed and perfectly toned legs, and a leaking tent covered by low-rise, black boxer briefs, Sanzo's tongue curled and smoothed over the edge of his upper lip, and he blew warm breath over the tempting bulge, and smirked upon seeing it twitch.

"Your choice of underwear leaves very little to the eyes, I see."

Goku stuck out his tongue and grinned, and parted his legs more, bathing in the look of approval in Sanzo's gaze.

A pale hand smacked a meaty thigh. "Turn over." Goku did, and a deep groan thrummed from his throat as he saw the fabric confining and defining pert globes of flesh peaking sinfully from the seams—

The hand itched and slapped each cheek twice—humming as Goku raised his ass higher with each slap. Sanzo bared his teeth and dived in, taking in mouthfuls of the underside of a cheek and suckled on it. His other hand slithered inside the fabric on the other cheek, raking and kneading the plump flesh in his hand—

He released the reddened cheek with a pop—and Goku mewled at the loss—and Sanzo slapped the firm buttock once more. "On your back."

Goku did as he was told, his face growing hot and loins throbbing to be touched—

With a guttural grunt, Sanzo buried the clothed turgidness inside his watering mouth—and Goku yelped and grabbed at Sanzo's scalp, urging him to where it ached the most.

The blond pawed and licked and hummed at the stiffness, and diverted his attention on the head leaking through the fabric, droning heavily around the tip. He savored the urgent whines and the lean legs that jerked and landed on his shoulders, the tanned and shaky hands gripping onto rumpled locks of gold.

Goku let out a steady string of breathless curses and needy variants of the blond's name, hips now jerking in earnest. In retaliation, Sanzo exposed his teeth, and deftly tugged on the now damp fabric—freeing the hardness that slapped back to a well-toned stomach. His canines ghosted over the seeping head, lips curling upwards at the sight of Goku with his head thrown back, neck exposed and flushed and showing the beginnings of a light sheen of sweat from his jaws—

—and Sanzo swallowed and sucked him until the ridge, slowly shaking his head with every dip and humming deeply around the pulsating muscle. Calloused fingers wrapped around the shaft, stroking it firmly with painfully slow twists—and molten gold met burning violet—

Goku panted and dug his toes on Sanzo's lower back as his hands wove through the wavy, blond locks, letting his fingers say the breathless affection that his parted mouth currently couldn't. Sanzo's eyes hid behind dampened lashes, tongue lapping up and sucking on a velvety sack to his mouth.

Two fingers worked their way and moved languidly inside a puckered and quivering entrance, and Sanzo flattened his tongue along the shaft.

"Come... Coming...—please don't sto—why did you stop...?" came Goku's wanton mewl, tears pooling at his eyes at the sudden loss of heat. When Sanzo gave him a complacent, toothy leer and leaned back, however, Goku's dazed eyes widened, and trailed them to where he had earlier unbuttoned Sanzo's slacks, and his mouth watered at the sight—

"Heh, here you are telling me of my choice of underwear, when I almost forgot you never wear yours."

—and Sanzo raised an eyebrow and a smirk slowly crept to his lips as Goku clambered on all fours, his head bent low and his enticing rump raised in the air, and he swallowed him whole, teeth and mouth and tongue aiming for Sanzo's completion.

The blond hummed as he looked down at Goku, "Should I even ask how you managed to do that without gagging?"

Goku sucked on his inner cheeks and slowly pulled away with a pop, and grinned at him, "'ve been practicing on large bananas just in case this would happen." And he returned to wrapping his lips around the length, sucking Sanzo whole and taking in all of his length and girth with a continuous hum. Goku failed to see Sanzo's brow raising at his brazen confession.

"Large bananas, eh. Heh. You really are a fucking monkey."

Sanzo smoothed his fingers through Goku's hair, his lips turning upwards at each downward bobbing of the warm mouth, the pink tongue lapping at every inch of the balls and turgid flesh that it could—

—and Sanzo gently tugged a whining and slavering Goku away as soon as he felt the first trickles of his come, and made him pool his ruined shirt under his arms.

"Bite it," Sanzo hissed as he held out Goku's rumpled shirt to his mouth, and he bit it without hesitation—and Sanzo pushed him on the bed, his pale hand draping across a heaving chest.

Goku had the melted look of confusion mixed with obedience and sheer excitement, and Sanzo, upon branding Goku's expression in his mind's eye, didn't dare conceal his grin as he grabbed at the bronzed ankles and pushed them back to Goku as far as he could—

—glimmering, purple eyes slid to that inviting hole, its quivering pinkness almost too much to see—

—and Sanzo slowly entered him with a breathless grunt, and looked intently at Goku's gagged form—

—golden eyes dimming and glazing with pleasure, the tanned cheeks blooming with a flush of red, lips glistening with drips of smeared white, teeth baring with a carnal need—

"Fuck."

Throwing inhibitions to the wind, the pad of his thumb coaxed Goku into releasing his hold on his shirt, and Sanzo showered him with ravenous kisses that sent those orbs of molten gold close and rolling behind shut eyelids.

They swallowed their sounds of trickling pleasure, heated breaths fanning on their equally heated skin, their faces and necks flushed with each thrust and pull and push—

—and ardent hands roved and entwined on disheveled locks, shifting between gentle caresses and violent yanks, both seeking dominance with every meeting of fervent thrust and colliding of greedy kisses—

Dribble seeped from Goku's mouth as Sanzo sucked on his tongue, its squelching sounds sending a frenzy of heady intoxication to his muddied brain and tendrils of delectable spice to his palate that no amount of food could satisfy—

Goku threw his head back as Sanzo's hips snapped over and over to his reddening thighs, each heave to his greedy hole sending him deeper and deeper into a spiraling wave of euphoric need—craving more of that engorged length—

Sanzo fisted the sheets in his hands with each thrust, and claimed Goku's neck, gnawing and sucking on the thrumming pulse. A breathless laugh left his lips when a sudden and deep thrust made Goku's back arch and groan and dig nails onto his back beaded with sweat. Hissing on each of the brunet's ears, he whispered barely uttered words dripping with filth and lechery—and toyed with the cartilage in between his teeth, and Goku's tongue slackened to his chin, watering eyes tightly shut and kiss-swollen mouth panting at his lust-laden words, and Sanzo engulfed the pliant organ in his mouth.

The softness and harshness of their kissing, coupled with their thighs and groins grinding with hurried slapping of their ardent flesh, rebounded on the walls and bathed their already heightened senses to a new peak of bliss—and Sanzo grabbed and held Goku's hands overhead as his thrusts grew more fervent, making the brunet thrash and mewl and scream in ecstasy.

Goku raised and gyrated his hips, alternating between steadying and moving them in time with the feverish thrusts as Sanzo held an arm under his waist and impaled him with potent lunge after lunge, fueling waves of liquid fire brewing on their insides—

Sweat trickled down the blond's exposed chest, and Goku licked his lips as Sanzo's face twisted in a snarl and growled, animalistic, and pulled out and slammed back in with succession—and Goku breathed a low laugh and licked his upper teeth as his head snapped back, drawn out moans dripping low in a languid tenor.

He felt his blood and insides singing and wanting to release—

"Goku."

The brunet, still casting his arms overhead, lazily tilted his head to the pale man—

—and Sanzo gave him the smallest hint of a lopsided grin. He bent over to him, kissing the shell of his ear once, and whispered—

"Come."

Goku's mouth parted and he came with a choked sob at the breathless command, splattering his inked stomach with ropes and speckles of white, liquid heat—and he kept his back arched as his insides tightened around Sanzo's cock, feeling molten warmth flowing inside him. And Sanzo gasped and muttered a growl as he shuddered his release inside Goku, and he fell to a quivering mess on top of him.

Goku draped his still trembling arms around Sanzo's back in an embrace, welcoming his weight on his sated form, sighing with a lazy smile. His eyes slowly drooped to a close, and before he fell into unconsciousness, he mumbled into Sanzo's ear with a kiss—

"Let's do this again next time. Maybe you'll actually cut back on smoking if we do this regularly."

Sanzo grunted, and kissed his cheek as a reply, both drifting to a blissful sleep.

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Goku awakened to a warm bed, and a comforting duvet covered his sated form. Sighing, he clutched a pillow to his chest, muttering Sanzo's name. The clock on the bedside showed 7:40pm, and he tried drifting back to sleep while listening to the muted sounds of kitchenware and of feet shuffling around the floor. He buried a smile to the pillow, recalling the earlier events in his head.

At one point, Goku was sure it was a dream, but the dull and welcomed ache on his backside told another story—and he licked his lips, and promptly sat up with a wide grin, ignoring, for once, his grumbling stomach.

He looked down at himself and noted his clean and spunk-free stomach, and muttered a silent 'oh' as he noticed his hips and shoulders and clavicles were littered with flushed marks ranging from small to mouth-sized that he knew he didn't have during the time that Sanzo had taken him.

He looked at the open doorway, then to the bathroom connecting to Sanzo's bedroom, and he carefully made his way there, highly aware of the mess inside him, and he clenched his butt cheeks throughout, and faced himself on the mirror.

His mussed up hair, wide, clear eyes, and flushed skin greeted him, along with the little marks trailing down his neck, ears, and chest. He opened up his torn and rumpled shirt more and stepped backward until he could see all of himself—butt still clenched—and gasped upon seeing the extent of hickeys that Sanzo left on his skin. The matching set of marks on his hips made him bite his lip, and he grinned at the amount that littered around his tattoo.

Turning sideways, he saw the marks Sanzo left on the underside of his buttocks, and noticed more at the back of his thighs that he knew weren't there earlier.

Goku reached his hand to his hole, and stared at the mirror in fascination at the copious amount of come that ran to his fingers. Grinning to himself, he licked each of his digits clean, and closed his eyes at the drops that escaped to his wrists. He repeated it with the other hand, and sighed as he imagined his fingers were Sanzo's turgid cock, twitching and dripping against his tongue.

He savored the remnants of Sanzo's come on his lips, and he stopped when he felt himself going hard—

Muttering to himself, he licked his lips one last time before brushing his teeth—with a spare toothbrush that Sanzo had begrudgingly provided when he became a constant in his flat—and stepped in the shower, letting warm water bathe his skin.

He exited the bathroom in a few minutes, a pleased smile stuck on his face as he inhaled the remnants of the lemon-scented soap that clung to his skin. He giggled as he streaked to Sanzo's wardrobe and rummaged around. He took out one of the man's rarely used shirts and flung it over his head, and blinked at his suddenly exposed shoulders and barely covered upper thighs.

"Why are his shirts so big...? Oh right—I'm small," he muttered with a pout. He looked around and noticed that the disarrayed clothes were now folded at the bottom of the bed. Even the buttons that flew from his shirt were seated on top of it—

The buzzer rang throughout the flat, and Goku paused, and noted the bedside clock was just minutes before eight. Hardly anyone other than him or Hakkai or Kanzeon ever visited Sanzo's flat. Gojyo was practically banned from Sanzo's flat for frying an egg and accidentally setting the kitchen's fire alarm that one time—

The buzzer rang again, and the muffled sounds from the kitchen stopped.

He heard the faint and telltale clacking of Sanzo's Model 36—

—and Goku leapt to the bedside and snatched his Curve .380, loaded the magazine, pulled and released the slide, and sprinted his way out of the room just in time to hear the front door swinging open and two shots firing in the air—

"Sanzo!"

He leapt to the hallway and immediately aimed the gun at the figure kowtowing at Sanzo's feet—

"You're all right!" the brunet exclaimed, and narrowed his eyes at his target.

"Ah," Sanzo muttered, sparing Goku a glance, and turned his eyes and gun to a figure that Goku couldn't see.

"Who is—"

"Goku, don't you dare fucking move and get back to my room."

"But—!"

"Now!"

Goku gaped, and huffed as he stomped near the door, ignoring Sanzo's sidelong glare, and aimed his gun at the door and fired it once, and saw a shadow flinching back.

"Hey, Goku. That's not your fucking door to destroy."

"That's my fucking target to destroy if it's going to ruin my great day. And don't make me return to your room."

"Put your goddamn pants on first, idiot."

"No. Not until I blow their brains off."

"You fucking idiot—!"

The shadow by the door moved, and Sanzo growled and stepped back and moved in front of Goku, the bowing man by the door forgotten as he kept his aim at the shadow—

Goku lowered his gun on instinct, a scoff slipping past his agape mouth as he heard deliberate footsteps by the door. The brunet craned his neck to see who it was, but Sanzo's arm reached around Goku's waist, keeping him there.

Groaning in frustration, Goku stomped his bare feet and glared at Sanzo's back. "Sanzo, why are you—"

"Not now."

Sanzo fired his gun once more, and the figure laughed, the voice familiar to Goku's ears.

"Now, now, Konzen. Don't blow holes on your door."

"Fuck you, odd eyes. Get yourself and that thing away from my flat and never come back."

"...You do know I work and live here, right?"

"Yeah. And I'm your boss, and when I say get out, I mean get the fuck out of my fucking flat and return to your floor."

Goku peered over just the slightest to confirm himself that it was, in fact, Homura, who stood by the door with the still bowed and unmoving man on the floor. He heard Sanzo rumble a groan through his back, and Goku held back a squeak and slid behind the blond.

He was now aware why Sanzo refused to let him move.

Homura nudged his foot to the bowing man's back, "I just did you a favor of catching this 'thing' loitering by our premises, all covered in gunk and blood. So I beat him up some more when he tried to enter the building while waving an SNS about and calling out for you—"

"And you dared to carry it and drag it around this building, bringing it to my place, at a fucking Friday, and expect me to give you a friendly greeting?" He fired his gun again, and Homura tilted his head right, smiling at the missed shot.

"I don't expect friendly greetings from you, anyway," Homura shrugged, and craned his neck to look over behind Sanzo. "Is that Son Goku you're hiding?"

Sanzo gnashed his teeth and emptied the gun's cylinder. "Don't. You. Dare."

Homura leaned back and held up his palms in surrender, mockery dripping from his amused tone. "All right. I'll just wait here while you two finish what you've started."

Goku remained unmoving behind a still rumpled Sanzo, all former bravery now forgotten as he stared down at his hickey-riddled skin and barely covered lower half, and he hid his face upon being discovered in his current state.

Sanzo waved his empty gun at Homura's face, "You. Get out for a moment. And keep that shit on the floor."

Homura shrugged, smiling knowingly as he stepped back and bowed in mock respect, and closed the damaged door with a chuckle.

As soon as it closed, Sanzo whipped around and hauled a yelping Goku over his shoulder, and marched back to his room—both of them dressing as decently as they could in their post-coital state, muttering and swearing all the while about the men that barged in.

"Just when you'd think everything would go well tonight, but nooo—"

"Shitty subordinates and their shitty fuckery of clusterfucks. Can't even get a sliver of peace in a fucking day without shit happening every fucking hour—"

When they were done and have exited the room with glowers and growls, Goku followed the muttering and cursing blond to the door. A dress shirt and jeans-clad Sanzo slammed the door open and gritted his teeth at the still smiling Homura.

"Who the fuck is that thing?" he snapped, nostrils flaring at the still kowtowing man. Sanzo paused his cursing, though, when said thing looked up at him with a bloodied face and sniveling nose.

The tanned and haughty blond who had yelled at a teller weeks ago now kowtowed to his feet.

Zakuro grabbed at Sanzo's slippered feet, and groveled with a bawl.

"Genjo Sanzo! I, the great Zakuro, am beseeching you and have come to you for aid!"

Sanzo's brows furrowed and glared at Homura, who shrugged. Goku growled at the man who ruined his otherwise perfect night—and instinctively pulled out his gun and aimed it at Zakuro's head in case he'd harm Sanzo.

Three pairs of eyes fell to the groveling man at Sanzo's feet.

"I—I wish to take back my life, and bring Houtou to ashes!"