: To Wash Away the Sins :
Gensomaden Saiyuki
Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki. All rights go to Minekura Kazuya. No profit is being made of this.
Rating: K+
Pairing: Homura/Goku
Warnings: shounen ai, some surrealism
Notes: Written for challenge number 16 (invincible; unrivaled) at the LJ community, 30 Kisses. Also written in attempt to slough off the sudden weight of writer's block. So those waiting for Perfect World to be updated... I'm sorry, but please wait a bit longer.
Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated.
He didn't quite know what to expect. Yet that was a lie, and he knew it. Homura always had high expectations, and it disgusted him whenever whatever he waited for fell below them.
Homura was going to create a new world. This, too, had much to do with his expectations. The heavens lacked what he believed they should have; crucial parts that would make them so less hypocritical and so much more... earthly. Spiritual. Homura knew he favored all that resembled and came from the earth, so his preference should not have come as a surprise.
He knew exactly what he expected—and that was a sight he would never forget.
The earth was proving to be far more beautiful than the heavens, as he had come to foresee. Its allure rested in the raw feel of it all. Where the heavens were always bright, shining perfectly warm rays upon the majestic floors, the earth was far less predictable. Sometimes it was too hot, others too cold; rarely did it achieve perfect temperature. Clouds could obscure the sun entirely, or leave it naked and glowing in the sky. Disruptions occurred without warning; storms and quakes and chaos borne of sin.
And then there was that which cleansed it all: the rain. Even that was inconsistent tonight; first falling in light sprinkles, in thin sheets spread across the land, and later building up until thick drops fell in torrents. Occasionally the showers would lighten as the grayed clouds rolled past the moon, revealing a glimmer of white light for a few brief moments. Then the cycle would repeat.
Homura found himself tucked away into the shadows. Though the rain was beautiful, he hid from it and sought shelter. He could only watch from afar anyway—it was not as though he had any right to reach out and touch that which cleansed. He could not be purified, in any case. Such a feat was impossible, even for the earth he so desperately believed in and almost worshipfully praised.
He was all right with his insecurities. They bothered him, certainly, but not so much right now. Now he could only wait, anticipate... and hope he had not come to this spot in vain.
His wish was granted.
A golden shadow spilled across the wet floorboards of a porch. The inn was clearly cheap, but it was also clear one could not be picky in this town. The current and only guests were the first this establishment had seen in months. Earlier, before the rain, the entire town had celebrated. Homura knew, because he had quietly watched from a farther, much safer distance.
Bare feet padded out, the owner of them rubbing groggy eyes and looking around as though he knew not what he was doing. Even from this distance, Homura could see the creature shiver—and what a delightful sight that was. Only one being would react to even the smallest sensations in such a manner. It wasn't so much that his movements were original, but they were truly felt. This person felt every caress and tasted every morsel with a depth no mortal could ever hope to accomplish; much less an immortal.
The door swung shut. The creature stepped into the rain. And Homura was breathless.
Water sluiced the being, drenching tousled chestnut hair to a dark brown. Normally tanned skin suddenly became much slicker; almost glowing bronze despite the lack of light. And though the creature had a slight frown marring his features, and his nose was screwed up as he appeared to be in deep thought, he was beautiful. Earthly so, in an awkward, pure manner that simply made the god forget even he needed to breathe in order to live.
With abruptness that almost shattered the frail moment, the creature's head jerked. Suddenly wakeful, molten eyes roamed the streets, seeking deep into the cracks and crevices no mortal eye could peer into. This creature – this being, this young man, this child of the earth – was far beyond mere human abilities. He was not human, nor demon, nor god, but a species unto himself.
The precious gaze finally came to rest on Homura. He could no longer hide—but he was not willing to accept the soothing cleanse of the rain, either.
Instead, he took the opportunity to relish in the boy's surprise. His eyes widened noticeably, his features smoothing as his scrunched expression slackened. At first he didn't seem to know how he wanted to react; his muscles tensed then relaxed, and then tensed again. Finally, he settled for an uncomfortable moment in between. And stared.
Goku whispered, "What are you doing here?" Only he didn't, because his lips didn't move; he wouldn't have been heard over the rain, anyway. It was merely a thought Homura conceived through his eyes. He offered no explanation; didn't move from his spot.
The boy hesitated, and then stepped closer. When Homura did nothing, not even twitch, he braved another step, and another, and then another. At last, they were within a foot of each other; one soaked boy giving his adversary an inquisitive look, and one dry god returning the look with a vaguely amused smirk.
He became distracted by a droplet trickling down the side of Goku's face. As it fell, it gathered more liquid until it became a transparent bead trembling on the very edge of his jaw. Homura watched it fall, and then another was born just beneath one of Goku's eyes. This one chose a different path, rolling gently down the curve of his cheekbone until it dipped into the corner of his mouth. Either by instinct or realization, the boy's lips parted. Just slightly. Just a little.
Unthinkingly, Homura reached up. The faint clatter of his chains was barely heard over the rain, but it startled Goku into awareness all the same. A strong grip clasped Homura's arm, just below the shackle, with strength that made the skin under Goku's fingers turn deathly white. Even as a half-immortal, a god's flesh was so... human. It bemused Homura.
They remained caught in that moment, Goku's breath short, quick, and skeptical; Homura's slow, even, and quietly longing. With the boy holding him so firmly, only the very tips of his fingers touched the soft flesh of Goku's lips. Almost tender, definitely used before—he couldn't imagine such an earthly creature would be completely chaste. Not when Goku was the type to revel in every small sensation.
And perhaps that was what the boy was doing now. Though his hold was still tight, Goku's eyes were slowly sliding until they were almost shut. Only very dim twin shards of gold could be seen, the crescent just below wide, dark pupils. With the barest of movements, Goku moved his head and turned the touch into a kiss.
The moment was so profound that Homura found himself deeply shaken. He was disturbed to the core, almost frightened of what he had discovered here and now. To observe was one thing, yes, but to find some of what he felt, those nagging ideas and fantasies he had the worst time banishing in the most seemingly crucial moments, were requited... he was not sure if he was excited, terrified, or a wondrous mixture of both.
Goku's grip loosened, and finally grew lax. He opened his eyes again, not moving from his spot. Now his eyes shone with a different inquisition; questioning and offering at once. "Won't you come out?" his eyes asked. "Won't you let the rain soak you through until there isn't a speck of guilt or lie left?"
Though it touched him, though Homura wanted nothing more than to agree and step into the showers, he refused. As he shook his head, he recognized the hurt and disappointment in the boy's eyes. He knew what Goku was thinking: that his offer had not been enough, that his power was not enough—and that the rival he loathed and fought and admired and maybe even... cared for... was beyond his reach.
Homura couldn't bear to worsen the situation by explaining himself; by telling Goku that the new world he sought to create meant more to him than his own life. It was a lie that he didn't truly tell, and he preferred to think of himself as an honest man.
But in this case, it was impossible to do so and feel good about his decision in the morning.
He pulled his arm back, and the boy didn't put up a fight. Dampness clung to the man's flesh; a gift he could never return: Goku's temptation as he had tried to help him. A tease, a present, an offering he knew could never be extended again—and he had turned it down knowing this.
Worst of all, he had asked for it by reaching out. And now Goku was utterly confused, lost, and possibly even angry. Angry at the man for tormenting him, for toying with his mind at such a critical moment.
Homura had no consolation to give him. And even if he tried what Goku was possibly seeking for now, he knew he wouldn't just feel guilty in the morning—he would feel like a liar and a thief. And those two things he absolutely refused to be.
He watched the creature's retreat to safety and shelter. The rain would eventually dry, but for Goku, it would have done its job. It had touched his soul as well as his body, and now he was pure and whole again. Blood and lies and guilt had been scrubbed free, leaving nothing but honesty and love and the sheer will to live. In return for accepting what the earth constantly gave him, Goku gave something back to the world in continuing to act as he always did: carefree, full of life, energy, and unrivaled happiness.
Homura remained where he was until morning, and did not leave again until the rain had stopped falling and the skies had shone as though from the heavens. At last disgusted with the sight, Homura turned his back on the earth.
