FicWad

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to these characters (yet I find that fact [not] reason enough to veer myself from using them for my own intentions). Sue me and I'll sell all that I own so that you will get nothing from me (as I've gained nothing by writing this tale)


Sha Gojyo thumbed open the lid of his Zippo and a second later a flame emerged from the lighter. His scarlet eyes squinted as he took a deep drag on his cigarette, smoke circling his face.

'Hey, Hakkai. How far to the next town?' he was weary of riding in Jeep.

'Another hour, at the most'

'Ch'

Gojyo took another drag and allowed his eyes to wander over the dull expanse of scenery which surrounded them.
Fuck, he was bored. Gojyo's gaze settled on the sleeping boy who sat next to him.

'Oi! Monkey!' Gojyo kicked (half-heartedly) Son Goku's leg 'Wake up'

Goku smacked his lips, muttered something about pork and continued to snore.

'Leave him alone if you don't want me shooting your perverted ass '

Shit. He'd thought Sanzo was asleep, as well.

'My ass is not perverted, monk. Now, my dick is another st-Ow!' Gojyo rubbed his, now, aching crown and glared as Sanzo replaced the fan within the sleeve of his robe and turned in his seat.

'That was unfair. After all, it was you who started it'

'Shut up, Gojyo'

Gojyo sulked, keeping a crimson-hued glower upon Sanzo's rigid back.
Ten minutes passed, slowly.
Sanzo shifted and reached for his pack of smokes. Once lighting up, he continued with his stiff posture.
The half-demon refused to blink, even when Sanzo's smoke drifted back and into his vision.
Several more minutes passed (again) at a snail's pace.

'Stop glaring at me, kappa'

I wouldn't stop now even if my eyes were full of sand.

It was a dangerous thing, honestly, to go against what Genjo Sanzo desired. Which, in Gojyo's opinion, made this suddenly inspired game more appealing.

If possible, Sanzo's backbone became more, the straighter, as Gojyo's gaze stayed upon him. The redhead frowned.

He really needs a good fucking to loosen him up.
That particular overtone caused Gojyo to snicker. Only when Sanzo spun around to match him, glare for glare, did Gojyo realize that he'd chuckled loudly enough for Sanzo to hear.

'/What/, please share with us, do you find so fucking amusing?'

The corner of Gojyo's sensual mouth lifted in a smirk. Sanzo's right eye twitched damn near imperceptibly.

'You wouldn't get it, ice princess'

Sanzo sneered and slipped his hand into his lap, curling fingers around the polished grip of his Smith & Wesson.

'Try me'

Oh. Fuck. The things I could say to that.

Gojyo thought that he must have had something of his thoughts upon his expression, because Sanzo's face was (suddenly) tinted pink and his arm lifted.
The kappa found himself within the monk's (literal) sight.

'Fucking say it and you're dead'

Gojyo's smirk turned smile and he threw up his hands in mock surrender, 'Hey, I'm not saying anything'

He was pinned beneath Sanzo's glare for several full minutes longer, before the monk (finally) turned around in his seat.
Gojyo cleared his throat.
Sanzo stiffened.

'Just out of curiosity, Sanzo; exactly what did you think I was going to say?'

BANG!

------------------

Saying that Sanzo is attractive is stating the truth lightly, if you ask me. The man wears beauty like a woman; soft blond hair that falls over deep violet eyes. Pale skin that stretches over hardened muscles; skin that is often hidden, mind you, by that damn robe of his. However, when he sheds the top half of that same robe, Sanzo is found clad in black leather (so soft and lightweight that you'd think it some other material, altogether). I'm getting a hard on just thinking about it. No monk and especially a Sanzo, at that, should look like he does. It's just wrong.
Well. . .anyway. We made it into the next town, by nightfall:

-----------------

As fortune would have it, the inn that the Sanzo-party chose had four separate rooms. The receptionist promised to send a meal to Sanzo's room and the four young men gathered in there, to wait.

Sanzo slid his robe from his upperbody, allowing it to hang at his waist and took a seat, unfolding the newspaper which he held, as he did so.
Gojyo found his eyes fixed upon the priest as Sanzo slipped on his reading glasses.

'He's not going to like it if he finds you staring at him again, Gojyo'

The redhead's head snapped around at Hakkai's gentle warning. He smirked 'Good'.

'I'm hungry. When is the maid going to bring our food?'

As Hakkai turned his attention to soothing Goku's complaints, Gojyo tossed his jacket upon the bed and made his way to the door.

'Where are you going, Gojyo?' from Hakkai.

'I need a drink. See you ladies later'

'That means I get to eat your half, right?' Goku pounced the idea.

'Whatever. I'll grab something while I'm out'

Sanzo's brusque turning of the newspaper's pages was the last thing Gojyo heard as he left the monk's room.

-------------

It started raining as Gojyo made his way back to the inn.
Fucking great.

Not that he minded the rain, himself. The kappa knew, however, that the sudden appearance of the rain would mean the (just as) sudden arrival of the worsening of Sanzo's mood (not to mention the deepening of the haunt within Hakkai's gaze).

By Gojyo's standards, the night was still early; he'd been thinking of visiting Hakkai and having some quality time with the human-turned-youkai.

Gojyo stepped inside the inn and asked the receptionist to have a maid bring some towels to his room. After, he trotted up the stairs and went through the door to his own room. Gojyo kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his shirt.

He felt a slight chill and was happy to hear the maid's knock on his door. Unfortunate for him, the maid was an old hag, cutting off his hopes of flirting his way into someone's pants, this night.

He ran a towel briskly over his hair and torso; feeling more, the dry and warmer, Gojyo took a seat on the bed and reached a hand into the depths of his pants.pocket, aiming for his pack of Hi-Lites. Once he fished those out, he swore when he found the last smoke within the pack broken, balling the said within his fist and chucking it across the room.

Fuck!

The half-demon stood with intentions of snatching a new pack from the pocket of his jacket. He'd even went so far as to searching beneath the bed for said jacket, when he remembered.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

He'd left his jacket (and consequently, his last pack of Hi-Lites) in Sanzo's room.
Gojyo wasn't looking forward to knocking on the insufferable priest's door; however, he was looking forward to nicotine withdrawal, even less.

In the hallway, Gojyo pressed an ear to Sanzo's door, listening for any sign that he'd be shot at if he rapped his knuckles on the door. He heard nothing. Gojyo lifted his arm and tapped on the wood.

Silence.

When a bullet didn't splinter the door, Gojyo took that for as much of an 'Enter' that he would be receiving from Sanzo, tonight. He placed his hand on the door.knob and turned, only slightly surprised that it wasn't locked. Even less shocking was how Gojyo discovered Sanzo: sitting upon the window seat, eyes glazed and fixed upon the rain and smoking a most mouth-watering cigarette.

Gojyo gently shut the door behind him and stood, debating on if he should speak to Sanzo or grab his jacket and run. He (finally) decided on the latter and took an (intended) quiet step forward.
The floorboard gave a squeak! (to Gojyo's ears, the noise was as loud as a sudden clap of thunder) and he winced when Sanzo's blonde head turned slowly and he fixed that same lost stare upon his, Gojyo's, person.

'Jacket' the redhead said, dumbly and pointed to Sanzo's bed, where the jacket lay (just as he'd left it).

Gojyo, however, didn't take another step, as Sanzo's gaze scooted lower (and the kappa then recalled he was wearing no shirt).

Whether it was a (rare) act of reticence or of being a habitual temptation, Gojyo didn't know; he trailed fingertips from his shoulder to his stomach, playing them over chisled muscles. Crimson orbs darkened beneath heavy eyelids as he watched Sanzo's stare follow his fingertip's travel.
When purple came up to meet crimson, the monk's lips parted.

'Ch. Whatever'

What the hell was that?

Gojyo shook his head as if to clear it, stalked to the bed and snatched up his jacket. He pulled out his pack of smokes, tore it open and shoved a cigarette betwixt his teeth. Gojyo's hand patted his pants pockets and he let out a feral growl when he didn't come upon his lighter. This was not his fucking night.

There was a sudden click and Gojyo's head snapped up, finding Sanzo lighting his own cigarette.

Bastard.

The monk didn't look his way as he toyed with the lighter, striking it time and time again.

Teasing /bastard/.

It became apparent to Gojyo that if he wanted to use Sanzo's lighter, he was going to have to ask.

Probably just so he can have the satisfaction of telling me no.

Gojyo cleared his throat.

'Sanzo?'

Click. Click. Click.

Gojyo ground his teeth.

'Oi! Sanzo-/sama/, may I borrow your lighter before you waste all the flu-' Gojyo's eyes widened in disbelief.

No fucking /way/!

Sanzo was flicking, yet there was (no longer) a flame emerging from the lighter; only useless sparks.

'Here' Sanzo tossed the lighter in Gojyo's direction, 'You can have it'

Gojyo was sure that he caught a smirk tugging at the irksome priest's mouth before his eyes fastened upon the caught lighter. Gojyo struck it. Struck it again. Struck it until he had a fit of frustration and hurled it at the wall. He ran fingers through his long scarlet hair and tightened their grasp, attempting to hold back a scream.

'Hn'

Gojyo dropped his arms and shot a glare to Sanzo, who, mind you, was enjoying his (own) fix of nicotine. The kappa snarled and stomped his way to the window, stopping inches from the monk.
Sanzo turned his head and just barely suppressed his being startled at the half-demon's sudden proximity.
However, when Gojyo's fingers were (abruptly) fisting [within] his hair and drawing him forward, Sanzo nearly lost his hold upon the cigarette betwixt his lips.

Red eyes which reflected the rain's pouring stared hard into his, Sanzo's, own orbs as Gojyo touched the end of his cigarette against the glow of Sanzo's. A certain [un]explained heat began [within] the monk's stomach and spread downward.
When Gojyo released him, just as quickly as he'd been seized, Sanzo removed the smoke from his lips and took in a shuddering breath.

What the hell was that?

----------------------

There is a certain bond betwixt smokers. It may be an insignificant one, to most folks, however it does exist. I take my smoking seriously. And so does Sanzo. I think if either one of us didn't smoke, then we wouldn't have that tiny thread of connection. Well. . .
We've found something else to unify us, only that will come later, in my tale. Trust me, it's not easy to seduce a Sanzo priest. Especially a hard.assed one such as my particular Sanzo.