A/N: 12 year old previously unpublished fic, written for a challenge by an LJ friend. (Originally published March 2010).
"SANZOOOOO!" he yelled, as the monk and the demon plummeted over the edge of the cliff. A million and one thoughts flashed through his mind in the space of a heartbeat.
What am I going to tell Hakkai?
The stupid monkey is going to KILL me...
You fucking baldie, I haven't even had the chance to kiss that sneer off your - wait, WHAT?!
"Ugh!" with a grunt of effort and relief, he felt the chains wrap securely around his intended target, and braced himself against the drag of the combined weight of two fully-grown men hanging like pendulums in space off the end of his shakujou. "Stupid... arrogant... bastard..." he grimaced, arms and hands burning, his leg muscles cramping in protest as he skidded dangerously close to the edge, himself. "Ngggnnhhhh... fucking DO something, monk!"
Down below, the demon's manic laughter finally pierced through the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears, and Sanzo drew out his gun. "Fall! Fall! Fall!" shrieked the youkai clinging to him.
The blond lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "Fall," he agreed, and fired.
"Motherf-! OI!" Gojyo bellowed, as the force of the gunshot and the resulting sudden jerk almost made him lose his grip.
"Hold ON, you good-for-nothing cockroach!" Sanzo yelled, fighting for purchase with his boots on the rocky surface of the cliff.
"Insult me some more and I drop you!" Gojyo retorted, muscles straining as he painstakingly pulled up his burden inch by inch.
...
*pant pant wheeze gasp*
Both men lay sprawled on their backs, hearts hammering.
Realizing he could smell Gojyo's musky sweat and almost feel the man's heat from the closeness of their positions, Sanzo sat up abruptly, wincing and still panting hard. His pulse was racing, and he wasn't entirely sure it was just from almost falling to a crushing death, either.
On the ground, the redhead started chuckling softly.
Amethyst narrowed icily. "What?"
"You're heavier than you look, Sanzo-sama."
"Fuck you. I didn't ask you for help."
Gojyo rolled his eyes. "I didn't help you because I wanted to, for your information. Bah."
"Why then?"
"I like picking things off the ground." Shrug. "It's a sick compulsion. Heh." There was no wink accompanying the statement, but the teasing drawl implied it.
Sanzo rolled his eyes in turn... and then his gaze was arrested by the nasty-looking friction burns on the redhead's arms and hands. For some reason it sent a wash of hot blood rushing through his ears and flooding his face. Secretly, violet eyes roamed from those strong hands, up to a broad chest still heaving with exertion, down to muscled thighs and legs sprawled in wanton abandon on the dirt... He jerked, and swept his gaze back up to the profile outlined by the full moon. Chiseled, rakish features now wearing a broad grin, one of those disgusting Hi-Lites clamped between white teeth. What the stupid females saw in the sorry devil, he didn't know. Damn brat was a useless pain in the ass.
Who had just saved his life.
"Hn..."
At the small sound, Gojyo turned his head warily. "What now... ?" and found himself confronted with a flame. He tilted his head back smoothly, touching the tip of his cigarette to the offered light, and puffed once or twice. "Sankyuuu," he drawled through the fragrant smoke, a hint of a grin in his tone. He studied the man who'd just performed an uncharacteristic favor for him, and found quite an attractive tableau, especially from his vantage point on the ground.
Milky skin washed paler by the moonlight, dusted with grime from the recent battle. A beautiful face permanently graced by a bored expression, framed by hair the color of gold. That hair! He had always been so... attracted by it, not because it was "the color of sunshine"... but because by all rights the damn hage bouzu SHOULD have been bald, but he wore his hair, and he wore it long, dammit - in defiance of the rules. Holy shit that was... arousing.
The redhead blinked, aware he was treading on dangerous ground, but unable to stop his thoughts. Such an arresting profile he had, the arrogant prick. And those infernal, lazy, drooping purple eyes... who the hell had PURPLE eyes?! Sitting silent like this, with his lips slightly parted as he smoked his own cigarette, the unholy monk was undeniably appealing. The perpetual stiffness with which Sanzo held himself only made Gojyo want to tease him more, to be the one to crack that hard shell.
He was the undisputed ladies' man of their little group, but the kappa had seen more than a few of the ladies (and not a few men) glance admiringly at their blond leader. Invariably, the bastard's aloof manner discouraged any and all such attentions, though - the Ice Princess repelled everyone with his glacier disdain.
Gojyo should know... he'd been one of the earliest to be frozen out with one glare and a dangerous hiss. Feh. That didn't mean he was going to accept defeat, though. He swore grimly to himself that one day, no matter how long it took, he was going to get close enough to confirm to himself a few things... to satisfy his curiosity. A slow, cat-like grin spread across his face as he blew smoke rings like kisses to Sanzo's direction. He was certain that the holy shithead would smell and taste like gunpowder, gunmetal, and blood... mingled with that faintest trace of sandalwood and the tang of Marlboro. Mmm...
Purple eyes narrowed at the unusual silence. Sanzo risked a swift glance at his companion and didn't like the devilish look on the incorrigible redhead's face. He stood up quickly and lightly kicked Gojyo, firmly tamping down on any thrill he might have felt at the hunger he saw in those red eyes. Lust was something he could do without, especially coming from a perverted kappa. Any physical need he felt, he felt better dealing with alone, with the minimum of fuss.
"SHIT! What the hell was that for?!" Gojyo growled, rubbing the back of his head. He shot a disgruntled look at Sanzo, who stared down his nose at him. Just you wait, monk... just you wait...
"Get up and quit slacking, idiot." Sanzo dragged deeply on his Marlboro, feigning a nonchalance he didn't quite feel. What he felt, he didn't really feel like examining that deeply. Forced company with the erogappa was making him feel a LOT of things he did not approve of. He was suddenly aware of the wiry strength in those long limbs, noticed how smoothly Gojyo wielded such an ungainly weapon as the crescent staff, was conscious of the half-breed's lanky grace and tabako smell that was not... unpleasant. "More manual labor like that is what you need," the priest snapped, grinding out the butt of his smoke under his boot heel.
Gojyo shrugged, scrambled up and tossed away his own Hi-Lite. He laced his hands behind his head and waggled his eyebrows at Sanzo. "You are SO not cute, Cherry-chan," he drawled, and risked a saucy wink at his companion, knowing it would make the monk bristle.
Sanzo turned away swiftly to hide a grin he was horrified he couldn't control. "Urasai, baka..."
- owari -
