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Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Fooled Me Thrice, Shame On Us Both

The next morning was positively frosty, summer sun notwithstanding. Hakkai didn't even look at Gojyo as he rolled up his things to put into the back of the jeep. Sanzo, of course, was never friendly, but seemed more withdrawn than usual this morning. Even Goku seemed subdued.

We have to get this worked out, Gojyo thought, sneaking a look at the blond in the front seat, we have to.

Sanzo tried to get them to drive right through lunch, since they'd just be eating sandwiches anyway, but Hakkai insisted that Hakuryu needed to eat, too, so they pulled over on the side of the road. Gojyo couldn't even find it in him to feel hungry, with the oppressive silence between the four of them, so he only ate about half his sandwich before passing the rest to Goku. For once, the stomach on legs didn't crow about getting more food, just mumbled a quick thank you and gulped it down without even seeming to think about it. Gojyo started to light up a smoke.

"Not here," Hakkai admonished, "If you're going to smoke, at least have the courtesy to go downwind."

Gojyo swore a little under his breath, but obliged, walking several yards away from everyone else before lighting up. He was surprised when, before he'd even finished his Hi Lite, Sanzo joined him.

"Gotta light?"

Gojyo offered his Zippo without even looking over. Sanzo used it and handed it back, blowing out a cloud of smoke elegantly.

"So, what's your problem?"

You call that a conversation opener? Gojyo's eyes narrowed, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're acting like an idiot. Granted, I didn't expect you to act very mature about any of this, but this sort of reaction is just ridiculous."

Gojyo opened his mouth to retort angrily, but Sanzo interrupted, "We fucked, Gojyo. That's it."

"That's it?" Gojyo said, before he could stop himself. Shit. Way to sound like you're in control here.

Sanzo leveled his hard, purple eyes at the half-demon. "That's it," he said coldly, evenly. Then he put out his Marlboro and walked back to where Hakkai and Goku were packing away the lunch fixings. Gojyo stood there a little longer, watching the hot summer wind blow his hair in front of his face, giving the landscape before him a red picture-frame. He put out his cigarette and lit another.

"That's it," he repeated to himself quietly. Got all worked up over nothing. Well, what else did he think it could be? Gojyo had never felt more like just hitting himself in the forehead. He'd imagined everything. The look in Sanzo's eyes had been lust, nothing else. Those muttered things Sanzo had said just under his breath, the words he couldn't quite catch, had not been his name, had not been declarations of any sort of feeling. Just the normal, insane, senseless things that everyone said. But he couldn't have just . . .Sanzo didn't just . . .

He just did baka, Gojyo groaned, getting out a second cigarette and lighting it. He was surprised when the corners of his eyes started to burn. Well, what did you expect? It was just sex, after all. But it had been different with Sanzo, at least he thought it had been. Maybe he had just wanted it to be different. He'd wanted it so bad. Wanted Sanzo in a way that went beyond the desire to screw him senseless. He just didn't know the word for it, was all. He threw down his cigarette and ground it out with his boot, going back to Jeep, who was all transformed and getting packed up again.

When they'd actually gotten back on the road, Gojyo found he still couldn't stop looking at the priest. Luckily for him, Goku was too busy being miserable, and Hakkai too busy being angry, to notice. To Gojyo, love and sex had always been confusing. You wouldn't think so, from the way he went from woman to woman like he didn't have a care. But he'd really expected more from it than was really there, especially in the early days. Sometimes he thought that Jien's relationship with Mother must have screwed him up more than he knew-Sha Gojyo knew that there was a difference between love and sex, you'd have to be a complete idiot not to know by the time you racked up as much experience as the kappa had, but he'd always had trouble pinpointing what the exact difference was. Maybe because there'd never been anyone that mattered to him, at least not anyone who had let him matter to them.

But he wanted Sanzo. Not just in bed, though that was a big part of it. He wanted . . .he didn't know what he wanted. There was no way that being with Sanzo, being important to Sanzo, would be anything like being with anyone else. Sanzo just didn't do relationships. Hell, he hardly even showed any sort of feeling for Goku, for all that the kid worshipped him. So what right did Gojyo, the literal redheaded stepchild, have to expect anything from him?

Hakkai said something, but Gojyo wasn't really listening, so he just closed his eyes and pretended to be sleeping, trying to convince himself that he had no reason to feel as awful as he did.

He'd been up half the night, trying to build up the self-control he was going to need to face Gojyo tomorrow; today had been hell. He'd been able to justify coming on to him the day before, because that was what he had done, because he thought if he just did this once, it would cure his obsession with the stupid half-breed. If he just had sex with him, the curiosity, the need, would go away. Tenkai, had he been wrong.

It had grown. That feeling that somehow he was special to the redhead hadn't stopped when he'd allowed Gojyo into his bed. He kept trying to remind himself that the kappa had done this with countless other people, but he couldn't seem to make himself believe it when he'd felt those lips kissing him. It wasn't that he'd been gentle, exactly, Sanzo wouldn't have allowed gentleness even if it had entered into the scene, but there was still something tender about the fierceness with which their lips had melded together, something personal about the possessiveness with which Gojyo had left a mark where Sanzo's neck met his shoulder (for once, Sanzo thanked the gods for his profession, and the clothing it required), something almost . . .no, he wouldn't use the word 'loving', about the way Gojyo had moved those insistent hands over his body.

And yet he'd said those cruel words to him on the hillside, the only time they'd had alone since Sanzo had left his room at sunrise the next morning. He'd had to; Gojyo had forced his hand. If Gojyo had just treated him like he did every other person he'd bedded, then Sanzo would have been able to let life continue as normal, his curiosity satisfied. But he hadn't. He'd acted as unsure as Sanzo felt, and that was unnerving. Sanzo might not trust Gojyo's judgment in, well, just about anything, but he did trust Gojyo's ability to remain completely detached from the actual act of sex, and Gojyo had betrayed that, leaving the monk floating in limbo.

Damn him! Sanzo thought to himself.

They passed a faded sign on the side of the road. "We're about 200 miles from the next town," Hakkai announced to no one in particular.

Goku nodded, and settled in more against the side of the jeep, his head in his hands, sort of randomly staring into space. Sanzo grunted affirmatively and cautiously glanced at the mirror for a glimpse of red eyes in the mirror, only to find them shuttered closed.

He couldn't quite justify the feeling of disappointment that flooded through his chest.

When they got into town, they all behaved fairly predictably, taking into account the odd mood. Apparently, everyone was just sick of the vibe that had been controlling the better part of the last two days. Gojyo and Goku fought over things at dinner, as usual. The paper fan made two appearances. Hakkai pasted on his 'I'm fine, and isn't the world just dandy,' smile and made random comments about the energy of his companions. The only thing that might have given away the tense atmosphere was the fact that Gojyo and Hakkai still weren't speaking easily; there was no joking between the two of them at all. Since Gojyo and Sanzo didn't normally speak to each other, the fact that they didn't now was hardly noticeable.

They'd managed to get separate rooms yet again tonight, so the Sanzo-ikkou split up again this evening, no one being quite up to marathon games of cards, or breaking out the Mahjong tiles. Hakkai was teaching the saru how to play solitaire so that he wouldn't be so bored when the others had something to do, and, once Goku understood the game, retired to his room to finish up the book he'd started two nights before. That left Gojyo, who should have been picking up a random chick, and Sanzo, who should have been reading the paper.

Naturally, the use of the word "should" tells you that is not what they were doing at all.

Gojyo found the priest outside his room, downstairs in the lobby buying a pack of cigarettes until they could get to the store in the morning and buy him a carton.

Sanzo glanced up and saw the very person he wanted to avoid. Idiot kappa/! he mentally growled, /What do I have to say to get it through your thick skull?

This time it was Gojyo waiting for him, leaning his arm carelessly on the banister of the stairway, smoking. Sanzo didn't want to encourage him. He didn't.

Dammit, he /did/.

And so when he passed him on the staircase, he walked close enough to let their clothing brush together, close enough for fingertips to graze fingertips. Gojyo didn't seem to have any reaction, so Sanzo kept walking up the stairs, but he left his door unlatched. Sure enough, Gojyo was there less than ten minutes later.

Gojyo bit his lip as he walked back up the stairs and toward Sanzo's room. He could do this. He could do this. He could do this/. He /could do this. He tried the door, gently, so that if he had misunderstood, it wouldn't rattle and reveal him. It opened easily.

And there was Sanzo, standing with his back to the door, priestly robes already abandoned. He hardly looked over his shoulder at Gojyo's arrival. Gojyo closed the door carefully behind him, locking it. Sanzo turned and faced him silently, as if Gojyo had been the one to instigate this.

"I don't have to be here, ya know."

The statement seemed to shock Sanzo, but the moment was over so quickly that Gojyo couldn't be sure. Sanzo coolly cocked one eyebrow, "You are."

Gojyo heard the dare in that short statement. Leave . . .if you can. He chose to ignore it, trying not to think of how hard it would be to stay away. Trying not to think of how easy Sanzo would make it look. He moved on to the questions he really wanted to ask. "So, is this something we're going to keep doing? I mean . . ." Gojyo threw up his hands in confusion, "What are we doing?"

Sanzo smirked at him mockingly, closing the distance between them. "You talk too much, baka," he muttered against the redhead's lips before fusing them to his own.

It was weird afterwards. Did he stay? Was he allowed to stay? Was he expected to stay? Had they made this a regular thing now? Were they supposed to come up with some sort of code system? Were they telling the others (not friggin' likely)?

He waited for a few minutes, and when Sanzo didn't tell him to get off his ass and get dressed, he decided he was allowed to stay. He wanted to touch him. Wrap an arm around him. Smell his hair. Kiss his temple. But he didn't. That would get him a smack with the harisen (he didn't doubt the monk's ability to find said fan, even when his clothes were on the other side of the room) and a one-way ticket back to his own room for sure.

The most confusing thing of all had happened tonight-something he wasn't sure what to think of. Something that he didn't know if Sanzo had even noticed had happened. That night, when the definition between you and me and red and gold and purple and alabaster and bronze had all been mixed up together . . .Sanzo had said his name.

What scared Gojyo, though, wasn't the fact that he'd heard his own name on the other's lips. What scared him was that wasn't all that he wanted. Not even close. Sanzo shifted his head on the pillow and took a slow breath, signally his first slip into the only fitful sleep he ever got. Gojyo watched gravity go to work on Sanzo's hair, eventually pulling it down the slope of the pillow, so close to his fingers that he would only have to move two inches, maybe three, to touch the ends of those golden strands.

He wanted to hear his name cross those harsh lips again, for sure. He wanted to hear it over and over and over, until his name was the only word the blond could remember anymore. He wanted to be the only one with him, ever. He didn't want to be with anyone else. He wanted to do things with him that had nothing to do with what they'd just done. He wanted to make him smile. He wanted to wait up with him when Sanzo's insomnia wouldn't let him sleep for hours on end. He wanted to just be able to touch his hand (he'd never noticed until now what perfect wrists Sanzo had). He wanted things he had no right to ask for.

Gojyo moved his hand just a little on his pillow, so he could see his own fingers and Sanzo's hair from where he lay. He wouldn't touch. Not now. Sanzo had only said his name once. But maybe, just maybe, it was a start.

A/N: A big thank you to all who read and reviewed, and a super-de-dooper-de-booper big hug to /befanini/, who beta'd this for me.

Notes on the 353: I admit, when I first saw this couple on fanfiction, I was totally shocked. At first, I didn't like it because every fic I found wrote of them only having a sort of grudging lust toward each other--a sort of "wham-bam-thank-you-bstard" type of approach. Then I ran across/ befanini's/ fics that pictured them as being not only in lust, but also in love, and I caved. Now I have a hard time imagining any other couple--in my mind, these two simply belong together!

One More Note: A few people have reviewed asking for a sequel. There is already one written; it's called "Intimacy." There will eventually be a sequel to that titled "Aftershocks."