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Gojyo collapsed into the chair with a grunt, trying to ignore the fact he was going to bleed on the floor. "Prissy monk will just bitch at having to clean up after me." He muttered, leaning his head back until the top of the chair prevented it from further movement. Presented with a pleasant view of a rather plain ceiling, Gojyo grinned. "What's the worst he could do....shoot me?"

That was, for some reason, the funniest thing he had thought of in a long time. Unsteady cackles hurled their way out of his chest, oblivious to the fact that the more he shook with laughter the more he spattered blood in a rather macabre sort of artistic parody.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Ah, there was the guest of honor now. "Don' worry. There's only so much I can spill, after all." Gojyo's voice slurred in what could have passed for a decently drunk sort of way, had he not been accumulating quite the impressive puddle beneath his chair.

"Shut up" Sanzo was obviously less than pleased with Gojyo's morbid amusement at the situation. He ignored Gojyo's flip protestations and knelt beside the chair and began to assess damages.

"Hey...that hurts. Stop pokin' around in there." Gojyo shifted, trying to get away from the inconsiderately prodding fingers of the other man, managing only to shift his head into the barrel of Sanzo's usual persuasive tactic. "What do I have, some sort of target painted on today?" Gojyo leaned his head against the pistol, too tired to care if it offended Sanzo or not. Seriously, what was one more bullet hole?

"Careless." Sanzo growled, locating the myriad of wounds, ranging in severity, which decorated Gojyo's torso.

"Speak for yourself, prick." Gojyo muttered. "You're the one that managed to get us ambushed."

"Hn."

"Why don't you go bother Hakkai or something? Hell, check on the stupid ape. I'm sure I saw him get hit at least once."

"They are fine. You're the one with all the holes."

There was an odd note in Sanzo's voice, one which made Gojyo smirk in dark amusement. "You're slipping, monk. Showing actual concern..."

"You will shut up."

"If you stop digging your damn fingers into my bullet holes I will shut up." Gojyo snapped, all amusement at the situation dissolving. "I hurt, I'm tired. Leave me the hell alone so I can grab a smoke and pass the fuck out."

Sanzo sat back onto his heels, but made no further move to leave. "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'? This is my damn room!" Gojyo's head snapped down as the support of Sanzo's pistol was removed with the other man's movement.

"No. I am not leaving you here to sulk and bleed to death."

"I am not sulking, you snarky fucking bastard!" Gojyo surged to his feet.

Well, that had been the plan at least. Unfortunately his body was too concerned with the fact it was loosing a lot of blood to help him prove a point.

Which, of course, proved Sanzo's point for him right nicely...

Sanzo looked down at the now, more or less, prone Sha Gojyo, and thankfully refrained from sneering.

"Shut up." Gojyo preemptively hissed, embarrassed and in pain and not at all happy with the current situation. He closed his eyes, attempting to muster his body, one muscle at a time, to moving enough to get himself off the damn floor. It was definitely unpleasant to be prone in a puddle of ones own blood. He heard the heavy swish of Sanzo's robes as the man left the room...and the depressing sound of them returning hardly a minute later.

Something cold and slightly damp pressed against his right hand started Gojyo into opening his eyes. Sanzo was back to kneeling next to him, closer than the monk's sensitive personal space generally allowed for, with a beer in each hand.

Gojyo managed to roll onto his back, stealing Sanzo's right knee to prop his head on, and chuckled. "You are such a pain in the ass."