title: lazy and not
by: tyrnej
series: gmsaiyuki
disclaimer: written by a fan, for fans only. Also an LJ-fic, written while I was posting to my LiveJournal. This probably means it's a oneshot, and probably not coherent. Then again, I'm never that coherent, anyway.


Hot summer days were supposedly the worst, though Goku had no way of telling how he knew that, by pure experience. People talking outside the window, repeating the phrase over and over, as if the weather would take a hint and get cooler.

He figured it could be worse if he were hungry, and there was no food.

Shoes off, golden eyes half open and gazing down at well-polished planks of wood. The smell of frying chicken and beef on a grill, sharpened by a few slices of peppers and onions. He could smell wood, too, a different type, mingling with the fire and the chicken and the grill entirely. When he'd asked about it, the innkeeper told him it was a town specialty. Smoked.

Never thought of wood that way.

His limiter was itching, so he rubbed a little at the skin underneath it. Yawned.

Very hot, and very hungry, but he knew food was on its way. The window was cooler now, so reclining on the sill was possible. The people were gone from outside the window; boys wearing crowns and spikey capes were slightly out-of-place.

Not that he needed to, but he knew where they were. They'd appear around dinnertime anyway, fifteen minutes said from the cook, and get the hell out of the kitchen you've been in here every five minutes to ask how much longer.

Cockroach Kappa Gojyo wandering town, the ladies were more heavyset than in the last place, but they had their benefits, he'd said with a wink and a grin.

The wink and grin lost on Goku, who only knew they smelled of food. All cooks, every one of them.

Hakkai gone out to town, always out in town, buying more things for the journey. Dragon opting out for sleep this time, up in the room. Hakkai could charm the ladies as well as Gojyo, Goku figured, but to his credit, never took any of them back with him at night.

Maybe he slept with them while he was out in town? Always out there, buying cigarettes and bread and soap and meat. How long would it take, anyway?

Fourteen minutes, maybe. He yawned again, scratched underneath the limiter.

A cool breeze passed through the window. Nice.

Sanzo a few feet away, leaning against the wall outside, reading the local. Smoking. Goku could see the blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, smell the smoke from a last stick in the last pack the monk had.

How much longer? The scent of spicy chicken and beef was only getting stronger. Enough to make him drool.

He wiped at his mouth. Not going to make it.

Think of something else?

Hot. Very hot. Cool breeze through a window. But still hot.

Had it occurred to him to take off the cape and shirt? At some point in time. But Sanzo had mentioned something about being somewhat decent at dinner. He glanced down. Would he mind? Rather not the paper fan. Putting it back on in ten minutes was trivial.

A portion of cream robe was undone on the porch outside, spilling onto weathered, well-swept, and polished wood. And all that talk about coming to dinner indecent, stupid Sanzo. He opened his mouth to protest.

Apparently not in town all day. Since when did Hakkai come back?

Sense and sight and the sound of the rare breeze floating through flexible leaves. Pausing in the windowsill, staring at a few feet away, smelling the chicken and onions and funny-nice-smelling wood in the kitchen fires. A glimmer of glass hidden in strands of black and gold, one hand slipping behind a fallen robe to travel down black fabric. Fresh meat and veggies in cold bags, on the porch, still perfectly fine, tomorrow's lunch. Two hands raised in half-protest against a green shirt, and the sizzle of beef over a grill.

Another breeze came through the window; he could feel it shifting his hair, cooling down the itching under his limiter. Closed his eyes, leaned back when he saw Hakkai straightening, hands holding the groceries already.

"Surprise." Imagining a smile, and the grimace in response. He was talking to Sanzo, but it wasn't one to Goku. The surprise, that is.

He wondered, though, if Gojyo knew. If he did, then he never used it to tease the monk. A good thing, though, it would be cool to know something the Cockroach Kappa didn't.

Sanzo was talking. "Dinner's ready, didn't you hear it? Hurry up and put your shirt back on."

He could smell the spicy food making its way to the table, feel the heat from its last home. A pitcher of something icy and blue on the table as a complement. Hot summer day, but everything's made better with food.

Gojyo wandering in, twins hanging onto his arms and a cigarette in his mouth. Hakkai coming down the stairs with a sleepy dragon on his shoulder. Sanzo putting away the newspaper to make space for a plate full of grilled kabobs. Here at last, the delicious meal he'd been waiting for, the one he'd nearly forgotten in the last ten minutes.

Maybe tomorrow, before dinner, he could get Hakkai to do that thing to Sanzo again. Might make the waiting feel shorter again.

And if not, at least he wouldn't get yelled at for being undressed for dinner.