Disclaimer: Not mine. As much as I'd like to put Gojyo in chains (little else), drag him into my bedroom and feed him strawberries and whipped cream by hand, it's really not gonna happen.

Thanks to iceblitz, altered carbon, and SanzoxGoku lover for their wonderful reviews:3 Reviews are the candy that keep me happy.

Saiyuki Plot Device #186: It Rains. Guess what happens this chapter.

And I'm not quite sure what level of technology is active in good ol' Tougenkyo. There's so many anachronisms (jeeps, laptops, credit cards) that I'm pretty sure you can make up whatever the hell you want, and that's what I think I'll do.

Sounds of the Night

Chapter 5: Sanzo's Thoughts

Hakkai and Gojyo had been pointedly not looking at each other for over two weeks, and Sanzo was telling himself, as usual, that he didn't care. Their shit was their shit. They could take care of it. It didn't affect him at all.

However, sitting in a jeep with two people who wouldn't talk to each other if they were paid was all very well and good, but when a certain third individual was desperately trying to: a) find out what the hell was with them, b) trying to lighten up the atmosphere and c) not shutting up, it gets to a point where a certain gun-toting priest gets rather annoyed. Sanzo wanted to shoot something, but he wasn't quite sure who he wanted to shoot.

He had his sneaking suspicions on what the whole mess was about, but he told himself not to think about it, so he didn't. He just sat there and took it, suppressing urges to shoot them all and continue the whole stupid journey alone.

They camped out for a few nights between towns, which did nothing for Sanzo's mood. Thick clouds threatened rain and he was quite glad when they finally reached a medium-sized village where they could rest for the night before pressing on.

The clouds that had threatened rain burst open minutes before the four arrived at the town. They dashed into the inn to escape a downpour that went from nothing to dumping buckets with nothing in between.

Sanzo's mounting ire prompted him to get seperate rooms for them all; he couldn't take any bull this time. He stalked into his room, nearly slamming the door, dropped his bag on the floor, kicked off his boots, and began to wring out his sleeves. He soon realized the wringing was futile and he had no choice but to peel off his already-sopping robe and hang it over a space heater before seating himself at the lone table of the room and ruffling through his pack, pulling out a rather soggy newspaper.

After squinting at the running ink for a few moments Sanzo crumpled up the paper and threw it into the corner, telling himself that it wasn't current anyway.

Sanzo decided that he was going to mope by the window for a few hours before going to bed.

A visit from Hakkai was not on the menu.

Hakkai, as usual, didn't say why he'd come. Sanzo didn't much care. It might have had something to do with Gojyo or it might have been the rain, but Hakkai initiated it and Sanzo finished it.

It was always cold sex between them. Not physically – it's fucking impossible to have sex and stay cold – but it was blank, empty. Sanzo liked it that way. There were no expectations. No attachments. It was just a moment where everything could be forgotten, for an instant. A completely selfish, unpriestly moment of filth.

Sanzo craved that filth. He wanted to make himself dirty, unclean. He'd spent most of his life struggling against his fate as a priest and this was just one more way to say, "Fuck you" to all the priests, all the gods, and all the little fucks who sucked up to him because he was the glorious 'Genjyo Sanzo'. "Fuck you" to his master for leaving him a name and a title and a robe that he didn't want but couldn't throw away.

Hakkai would never say anything about it or talk to anyone about it. That's why Sanzo chose him. Hakkai demanded nothing and gave nothing.

As they lay, sweat-slicked, in Sanzo's bed, Sanzo wondered for a moment if this was still true.

But that didn't matter now. He loved his little moment of filth. In that one moment of filth he could forget everything. It was erased. There was no Genjyo Sanzo.

It was almost as sweet as suicide.