It's been raining here for more 24 hours . . . While rain is sometimes nice and refreshing, more than a days worth of concentrated downpour gets rather depressing. And the bathroom ceiling has started to leak . . .

Drawn to the Light

By Eline (Kanzeon on ff.net)

Spoilers: A lot of them. At least until the first twenty or so episodes of the anime and most of the manga. And the Gaiden.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the fanfic idea.

Warnings: Serious possibility of shounen ai, bad language and Men Behaving Badly

Surgeon General's Warning: Smoking cigarettes may cause lung cancer.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rain. Coming down in torrents.

Gojyo heard the shutters creak inwards as the wind whistled past the small room of the roach motel they had the misfortune to be bunking in that night. The moisture wasn't helping the peeling paint either.

*Plop*. *Plop*.

Oh yes, not forgetting the roof that leaked in two places in this room. The landlord had ungraciously provided buckets on request.

After a while, all inns started to look like this. After a few trays of beer, all the women started to look the same too. But there were no women here in this one-horse town with this sad excuse for a guesthouse.

And the local beer tasted like piss. Gojyo had long given up on his last pint--a first for him.

But worst of all . . . most terrible of all, was the sodden packet of cigarettes lying on the table where he had tossed it after rummaging in his pockets for some relief in the middle of a joyless evening. It had obviously been soaked when they had been caught out in the storm.

He would have risked a limb or two to bum a cigarette off Sanzo, except he knew that the monk's stash was no drier than his own. Needless to say, Sanzo had been twice as irritable as usual and had gone to bed early rather than touch the local beer.

All in all, it had been a terrible day. When the storm had hit, Hakkai had suggested heading for shelter in the nearest settlement. Sanzo had wanted to go on, but Jipu had been abruptly mired in a knee-high slush puddle in the middle of the road. That had put a large crimp in any of their plans, whatever they had been.

They had had to get out and push Jipu out before the vehicle could resume its dragon form again. And then the white dragon had started sneezing pitifully. Hakkai and Goku were adamant that they find shelter immediately because, as Hakkai had whispered in his ear during the muddy trek to the town, Sanzo with a cold and Goku whining incessantly for food was the last thing anyone of them wanted to deal with.

Sanzo with a cold might have been better than Sanzo without his cigarettes. He had said precious little that evening, but if the persistent tick under his left eye had been any indication, he was more than a little pissed at losing half a day's travel time because of the downpour.

If Gojyo glanced a little to the right, he would see Sanzo's back. The monk was lying on one of the two beds in the room. There were two other futons rolled up behind the door. The inn, moldy as it was, had been the only shelter for travellers in the town. All five pathetic guestrooms in the inn were occupied that night, hence the necessity of sharing one room between the four of them.

It was an open invitation for a virulent case of cabin fever, seeing as how Sanzo hoarded his personal space the way a miser hoarded gold. Hakkai was taking care of Hakuryuu downstairs and Goku was searching for food, as usual. The stupid monkey had looked ready to assist in the washing up if it meant that he could lick the leftovers off the plates.

Sanzo and his moods . . . che! They pandered too much to those moods. Hakkai and Goku had consciously, or rather subconsciously on the part of the monkey, given the priest wide berth that evening. Gojyo had stayed out of sheer bloody-minded perversity.

But Sanzo had other weapons besides his Smith & Wesson and his acid tongue. Like the Eat Shit and Die Glare. And the Really Chilly Fuck You Silence. And the prickly Keep The Hell Away Vibes he generated like a barb-wire barrier. Currently the Keep The Hell Away Vibes were winning as Gojyo felt less and less welcome in the room. Sanzo was not asleep, but awake and brooding. A dangerous time for all and sundry.

At times like this, Gojyo found himself wondering why the heck he was here in Nowheresville, population: fourteen, beer: bloody awful. He had always been a loner and a drifter, but now he was heading off on some mission from the Powers That Be with an irritating monkey, a foul-mouthed priest and a man he had saved for reasons he could not fathom completely.

Sanzo . . . for someone who was supposed to be their leader, he was definitely not a people person, but Gojyo had to give him points for coming through in the pinch. No priestly pacific mutterings from this Sanzo, oh no. He was about six hundred miles clear of Gojyo's original concept of what a monk should be. And a lot prettier too. Sanzo had a face that would put a lot of women to shame and drew lecherous comments from bystanders. Not than anyone could get away with saying it twice. Sanzo had a *mean* left hook.

Just thinking about those guarded violet eyes led Gojyo down another mental path entirely. He sneaked another look at the monk's lean back and blond shock of hair that seemed to catch and amplify the feeble light of the solitary lamp.

Yep, he was definitely getting horny if he was actually checking out *Sanzo* of all people. He would have better luck finding some local sheep to bugger. The sheep at least would have been more accommodating and they did not swear like an entire barroom full of sailors.

Suddenly restless, Gojyo sprang up and conceded defeat. No point in staying up here with blondie and his invisible defences. He strode downstairs to what was supposed to be the common room of the inn to find it empty except for Hakkai and Hakuryuu.

"Yo, what's up with the little guy?" he asked as he stood over the makeshift bed Hakkai had made for the dragon in front of the fire.

The landlord, skinflint that he was, might have been less inclined to let a dragon recuperate on his hearth without some extra incentive. But Hakkai could be oddly persuasive in his own way. One would never think that behind that inoffensive mien lay a will of steel.

"Poor Hakuryuu . . . I think he got a little too much water in his engine," Hakkai said, tucking the covers around the white dragon and the hot water bottle more securely. "It'll be a while before he dries out."

Hakuryuu wheezed apologetically and Hakkai bustled off, murmuring something about badgering the innkeeper for more hot water.

Goyjo had never actually wondered about how the magical jeep/dragon functioned, but he could see that Hakuryuu was not its usual pure white, but a sallow, sickly shade instead. It must have been pretty serious malfunction/illness then. Jipu/Hakuryuu was Hakkai's pet, but it had carried them through miles of inhospitable terrain on minimal fuel.

"S'okay, little bud," Gojyo said, reaching down to pat the reptile's head. "You're sure to get better with Hakkai fussing over you like a broody hen." Heck, Hakkai *liked* to fuss. Some people might think he was being unbearably prissy, but those people did not know that Hakkai had killed over a thousand youkai and half a village of humans to date. Grown men and youkai would have shat themselves in fear if they knew who Hakkai was--or rather, who he had been.

Gojyo knew Hakkai better than Goku and Sanzo did, but that was saying very little indeed. The closest they had ever gotten was three years ago when he had fished Hakkai out of a mud puddle and brought him back home like a stray puppy. He grinned inwardly at that mental picture. He never had a pet when he was a kid--he must have been making up for opportunities lost during his childhood. (*What* effin' childhood?)

No stray puppy had ever stared up at him with a look that said "please kill me" though. These days, Hakkai's eyes rarely said anything. He could only suppose that Hakkai had chosen to come along on this crazy trip for the same vague reasons he had.

A movement caught his eye. An insect was fluttering close to the lamp that lit one of the dingy corners of the common room. Gojyo thought it was a moth at first, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a much smaller flying insect he recognised.

This particular kind of fly mated during the wet season. Especially rainy nights. They would grow wings longer than themselves for the courtship flight and then lose them once the deed was done.

Gojyo huffed mirthlessly. The damned flies were getting more action than he was at the moment.

He watched as the fly was joined by a second in their dance around the orange glow of the lamp. Yep, he, Sha Gojyo, was definitely bored out of his skull when he started to find the antics of insects amusing.

Well, voyeurism was something new after all . . .

* * * * * * * * * *