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Disclaimer- dont own. merely borrowing. no profit made.





It had started out as a game, really.

He couldn't protest entirely innocent intentions, as no one would believe him. Hell he wouldn't believe it. It was just the perfect way to make the days of travel go by. When they weren't busy making sure they didn't get killed in various interestingly messy ways, Gojyo was bored. Travel meant no time for gambling, drinking, and wenching to excess, things he had happily filled his time with previously.

There really was only one thing that got his blood going in the absence of those luxuries. Unfortunately for one Genjo Sanzo it involved Gojyo doing his best to piss him off.

It started with the little things- disparaging comments, cutting sarcasm, and outright taunting. When those started to lose effect through familiarity Gojyo moved on to more drastic measures. Stealing cigarettes, snagging the paper while Sanzo was reading it, 'accidentally' knocking over the monks drink...

When the death threats lost their enthusiasm Gojyo decided to throw everything into one last ditch effort, as his source of entertainment looked as if it was going to end long before the damn trip.

Gojyo made a tangible effort to be in Sanzo's personal space as often as possible.

It was, in all honestly, a fucking bad idea. At least, that is the conclusion Gojyo came to, the edge of the table sharp against the small of his back where Sanzo had him cornered. He had never seen such a...blank look on the taciturn monk before. Almost as if he had transcended petty human anger and moved directly on to the pure wrath of the gods.

Which really didn't bode well for the state of Gojyo's personal well being. Why the hell had he decided to pick up his game while the other two were out? Hakkai could have talked Sanzo down. Yeah, he would have gotten scolded, but he wouldn't be so certain of his impending demise.

And Sanzo hadn't even drawn his pistol yet.

"Hey, Sanzo...I'm sorry, alright?"

Not even a blink. The monk just stood there, staring with that unfamiliar, unreadable look on his face.

'I am so fucked...'

Some sort of decision seemed to flash through narrowed eyes and Sanzo finally made a move. A familiar move as pistol was drawn and placed firmly against Gojyo's temple, followed quickly by one completely alien as Sanzo's other hand snagged first one of Gojyo's wrists, than the other, arms getting wrenched as Sanzo yanked forward.

He so rarely got involved in anything physical. It was so easy to forget how strong the slender man was. Gojyo was reminded, and even had a second or two to think about it, before he was completely and utterly distracted.

By the sensation of Sanzo's lips crushing his own.

There was nothing affectionate or endearing about the action, it was not the sweet caress of a lover's mouth. It was demanding and angry, and made all the more surreal by the continued threat of the drawn pistol which Gojyo could still feel against his skull. Sanzo pressed tight against the redhead, just long enough for Gojyo to realize the man was actually aroused, before breaking away, smacking Gojyo upside the head with the pistol in an almost infantile expression of displeasure, and stalking back to where he had been seated only a few moments earlier.

Rubbing a hand over the sore spot on his skull absently Gojyo attempted to get past shock so as to mull over the epiphany blooming in the background of his mind. A feral grin spread slowly across his face, an expression Sanzo missed as he hid behind a newspaper in an attempt at normalcy. It had started out as a game. There was no reason at all it couldn't continue as one...

Rubbing a thumb across lips that felt bruised, Gojyo felt the grin break into a full smile. This could get rather fun...