Love Song
Chapter Ten- Strong When I Am Weak
By darthelwig
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I do not own Saiyuki. This story is rated M. Slash warning!
Special thanks to GhostHelwig for always looking out for this story's best interests. I would probably have lost my mind and burned it by now if not for your encouragement!
A/N- For anyone who doesn't know who Dougan is… he's not an original character. Check out the movie Saiyuki: Requiem. That's where I got him from.
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Lirin went downstairs with little of her usual bounce and energy. She'd been running a fever since last night and Yaone had confined her to bed for now. Her big brother had backed Yaone up on this one, and Lirin had quickly found herself pumped full of medicine and chicken noodle soup, but now her stomach was rumbling again and only real food would satisfy it.
So she made her way downstairs quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself for the first time she could remember. Today would have to go down in the history books for sure.
She made it to the bottom without incident and was just about to congratulate herself when she heard soft voices coming from the living room. If the house hadn't been so unnaturally quiet- mainly because she was sick- she wouldn't have even noticed.
The two were speaking in hushed voices. Curious, she sidled up to the open doorway and pressed herself against the wall, straining her ears to catch their words. If it was a secret, she wanted to know what it was. She loved secrets.
She recognized her mother and Ni speaking. Their voices were unmistakable.
"I have no doubts, my lady. Sanzo seems to be doing a wonderful job of pushing the boy away all on his own, and with my encouragement, their fragile little relationship is doomed."
Lirin was surprised. Why were they talking about Sanzo? And what was it Ni had encouraged? Something told her she didn't really want to know what they were talking about, but she stayed and kept listening anyway. She had to satisfy her curiosity.
"Good," her mother said, and Lirin shivered at the unfamiliar coldness of her mother's voice. Was she angry? She didn't sound angry. She sounded… cruel. She'd never heard her mother sound like this before.
"I don't want those boys at the contest. So do whatever you have to, Ni, but make that happen. I can't risk that idiot stepson of mine losing- do you understand me?"
"Perfectly, my lady. Don't worry your pretty head about that. After all, that's what you pay me for."
Lirin was shocked to her core. How could her mother talk about Kou that way? Her voice had been so condescending, with no love in it at all. And was her mother deliberately sabotaging the competition? Why would she do that? How could she think that was okay?
Questions swirled within her, emotions clashing and warring in her heart until one thing became clear to her. She didn't know her own mother at all.
Lirin crept carefully away from the door, knowing that if she was caught there would be hell to pay.
She climbed back upstairs, heart heavy with feelings she didn't even have names for. She felt as if her entire world had tilted on its axis. Her mother loved Kou. She supported and encouraged him. Had all of that been an act… a lie? Her heart suspected it was.
And if that was true, what should she do about it? Should she keep this to herself? She didn't know if she could do that. Learning secrets was all well and good, but keeping them was another matter entirely. No, she couldn't keep this to herself. But then, what should she do? She wanted to tell Kou. After all, he would know what to do. He always did. He would get to the truth of things.
Her mind was made up but her heart ached, and she began to cry.
….
When Gojyo got out of the shower, Hakkai was finally awake. He was lying on his back, the sheet pushed down to his hips, arms stretched up over his head. Gojyo feasted his eyes on that naked flesh and felt the familiar tightening in his gut as his arousal grew. Hakkai was too beautiful- lying there, looking pale and delicate and altogether delicious.
His dark eyes followed Gojyo as he approached the bed, the redhead's only covering a small towel around his waist. Hakkai's lazy smile sent little tingles to Gojyo's stomach. He decided to tease Hakkai a little bit and leisurely removed his towel before climbing on the bed. He moved over Hakkai, slowly making his way up his lover's lean form. He stopped when his face was level with the long scar on Hakkai's stomach. Gojyo leaned down and ran his lips over the raised skin of the scar, his eyes never leaving Hakkai's.
"I remember when you got this," Gojyo said softly, his mood changing suddenly. Hakkai smiled at him tenderly.
"So do I. I would've died if you hadn't found me. You saved my life."
Gojyo remembered that night very well. He'd found Hakkai on a darkened street, bleeding to death from a gaping wound in his stomach. Normally Gojyo wouldn't have bothered getting involved in something like that, but Hakkai had looked at him, he'd smiled with those piercing eyes, and something had changed for the redhead. He reacted before he even realized he'd made the decision to, and Hakkai had lived.
They'd grown close after that, spending the months it had taken Hakkai to recover talking, sharing their stories. Gojyo had told Hakkai about his mother, how she had died at his brother's hands. And Hakkai had told him about Kanan- how he'd been unable to keep her safe in their own home, how some thugs had broken in and raped her, how they'd left her there a broken mess, how she'd been unable to live with herself and so had ended her life… her life and that of her unborn child's- the product of that rape. Hakkai had wept for her while Gojyo cradled him in his arms. Their mutual pain had brought them together, binding them with ties that could never be severed, and this scar was a reminder.
Gojyo pressed his lips to it again in an unspoken promise and looked at Hakkai very seriously. The look in his eyes must have startled his lover, who pushed himself up on his elbows and frowned.
"What's wrong?" Hakkai asked, and Gojyo shook his head.
"There's nothing wrong. I just want to tell you something, only I'm not sure how you're gonna react."
"You can tell me anything, Gojyo. You know that." Hakkai spoke softly, gently encouraging his friend to speak his mind. Gojyo took a deep breath and plunged in, knowing he might drown in these deep waters and deciding the risk was worth it.
"I know we're comfortable with how things are. I know this has worked for us for a long time, but I can't do this with you anymore. I just can't." He paused to compose his thoughts.
"What are you saying?" Hakkai asked, his eyes shining with unshed tears and his throat tight with emotion. Gojyo sat up and placed his palm on Hakkai's cheek, soothing his friend's anxious fears.
"All I'm trying to say is that I don't want us to continue on as we always have. I want more," Gojyo said tenderly.
"More?" Hakkai whispered, trembling.
"I know it's selfish of me to ask, but I don't care. I want more than sex. I want a relationship. Hell, I want a friggin' commitment, and I want it to be with you."
Gojyo was nervous as hell but he didn't want to show it, so he pasted his biggest grin on his face and tried to look relaxed. He had no idea if it worked or not. He couldn't judge from any reaction of Hakkai's. His lover was staring at him wide-eyed, cheeks flushed and lips parted. He was rumpled and stunned and, in Gojyo's eyes, completely breathtaking.
Hakkai sat up and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Gojyo's neck and kissing him. Gojyo's hands wandered over his lover's sides and back as they drank each other down, but he refused to be distracted until he had an answer from Hakkai's lips. He pulled away but held Hakkai close.
"Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, and Hakkai laughed.
"I'm sorry. I thought you already knew the answer," Hakkai said teasingly. "I guess I'll have to make myself more clear." He leaned in close so that their lips were just a breath apart.
"I want you for my lover," he said softly, the words just a whisper on Gojyo's skin, and that was all he needed to hear.
….
Sanzo couldn't take his eyes off the small patch of skin on Goku's stomach where his shirt had ridden up while he slept.
The monkey was still snoring away, oblivious to the greedy eyes devouring that section of smooth, silky-looking flesh. Sanzo had a tremendous amount of self-control and could deny himself many things but, for some reason he didn't understand, he was finding it difficult resisting this boy. What was it about Goku that made him so weak?
And he hated that weakness. He'd promised himself he would be strong, as his foster father had wanted him to be. Koumyou Sanzo had been the first person to treat him with respect and kindness.
For a pretty young boy in the foster care system, life had been one long series of rejections and abusers- until he wound up on that man's doorstep. He found his first real home there, and as his trust and love for the man grew, he began to think of him as his father- the only father he would ever acknowledge.
The wounded little boy he'd been hadn't known how to cry and would never have admitted he needed help, but somehow his father had seen through his defenses to find his true self. He'd taken Kouryuu's heart in his hands and healed it, making it possible for the boy to feel again- not just pain, but joy and contentment and wonder as well.
Those years he'd spent with Koumyou Sanzo had been the happiest of his life, both before and since. Even now, he cherished those memories, holding them close to his heart.
Even the end of them, when there had been so much pain… when his father had been torn from him by the cold hands of death. He could remember the smell of blood, could still feel it on his skin- his father's blood. He'd watched the only person in the world he loved die, had felt how helpless and small he really was, and his heart had darkened. He'd sworn to never be that weak again. He would never allow himself to need. In a world full of loss and misery, it was the only way he could protect himself from going through that again. His father had told him to be strong and he would be.
And he had been, until now. He'd lived his life exactly as he intended to and he'd managed to find, if not happiness, at least a measure of peace. But now there was this boy, this temptation, before him and his fragile peace had slipped away.
He didn't want to become what he hated. He didn't want to become a predator. He'd known too many of those, seen too much of lust's ugliness. His father had helped to heal his wounds, but now they were bleeding once again. Every lustful glance he stole of Goku's innocent beauty ripped them open a little more. He was damned, and he knew it.
Why couldn't he be stronger? He was so close to giving in to his body's needs. It was a struggle not to simply take Goku in his arms and vent his frustrated desires. It would be so easy. Goku would welcome it. He wouldn't know any better.
But he couldn't do that. He remembered too well how he'd felt, being used by someone he should've been able to trust. He remembered the greedy, grasping hands, the fear, the tongue in his mouth, the humiliation- the pain. His father had healed him, but those scars would never fade. They were blemishes on his soul- unforgettable and unforgivable. He didn't want to become that for this boy. Goku's body was mature but his mind and emotions were too young. He was a child still, as enticing as his wrappings seemed. Everything in Sanzo was revolted by his wicked thoughts.
He shifted in place and lit a cigarette in a futile attempt to relieve his growing tension. He wouldn't allow himself to touch Goku, even if he couldn't control his body's other responses.
He wished the room were dark so he wouldn't be able to see the object of his sinful desires, but Goku had wanted the light on last night. Sanzo knew the boy had been feeling lonely since that night in the alley. He knew that the distance he'd deliberately put between them was hurting Goku deeply, but he was helpless to make things better for the boy. Basically, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could hurt Goku by pushing his away or he could hurt him by holding him too close. He chose to hurt Goku in the only way acceptable to him- the only way he could live with.
He'd tried so hard to be a man his father could be proud of- strong, independent, free. He'd changed his name to Genjyo Sanzo as soon as he was old enough to, both to honor his father and as a reminder of where he'd come from. He thought he'd done a fair job until now, until this happened. He was determined to rise above this weakness in his soul. He would do so even if it destroyed him. At least then he could die proud of himself. And it did feel like this was killing him, like he was being torn in two right down the middle, and not just by his damnable lust but by his desire to erase the pain from Goku's heart.
Every time the kid looked at him, his eyes were full of pain. He walked, he played, he lived- but he wasn't really alive anymore. He was a ghost of his former, vibrant self and it hurt Sanzo to see him that way. The boy barely even ate anymore, and Sanzo had to constantly restrain himself from forcing food down the idiot's throat. He couldn't let himself care. To do so would be to risk destroying everything he was.
So he feigned disinterest and watched as the boy's light faded slowly away. He silently willed Gojyo or Hakkai to see what was happening, to step in and find a way to help Goku recover whatever it was he'd lost, but they either couldn't see the depth of Goku's despair or were unable to think of a way to aid him.
Sanzo had been shocked and a little angry with them for leaving Goku to suffer alone while they went off together. Couldn't they see how desperate the boy was for companionship? Were they blind to his loneliness? Was he the only person in the world who could see that Goku was going through? Was he the only one who cared?
He cursed himself silently as he sat there and waited for Goku to wake up. He wouldn't leave yet. Goku would be upset if he woke up alone, and he would spare the boy that pain if he could. It was the least he could do, but it was something.
Goku shifted in his sleep, throwing one arm out towards Sanzo, palm open as if he were reaching for the blonde even in his sleep. Sanzo stared at the hand laying so close to him, amazed at the boy's utter vulnerability. That hand had slipped so trustingly into his own when he'd taken Goku from that basement. It had seemed so small then… when had that changed?
He reached out one tentative hand and traced his finger along Goku's palm, the warmth of Goku's skin tantalizing his senses. He found himself leaning forward, an uncomfortable tightening in his jeans, and he snatched his hand back quickly. He backed away from Goku, whispering curses at himself for nearly giving in to his urges, and sat stiffly against the far wall. He dragged a lungful of smoke into his chest and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
He was insane for staying. He should leave now while he still could- leave and never come back. But he knew he wouldn't. This amazing, trusting, innocent and sinfully tempting young boy was his captor. He was trapped as surely as Goku had been and no one was coming to save him.
He tipped his head back, resting it against the cool wall, and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore his uncomfortable arousal.
"Be strong," he muttered to himself. "Yeah, right."
Strong was definitely not what he was at this point. He was cold, he was hard, but he wasn't strong.
Shoulders slumped, he covered his face with his hands and prayed.