Dinner

    Hakkai couldn't trace it down to the day it had begun, but he knew it was around a seven or eight months after he started living with Gojyo.  One day, everything was completely normal and the next, he started having these hallucinations.  

    Not quite so long before you take it out of the pan.  It's better a little more rare.

    They didn't come every day, or anywhere near enough to be of real concern (Hakkai was nothing if not practical, and he knew that certain parts of his psyche were...less than whole), but it was often enough to become a Fact.  In Hakkai's experience Facts tended to be unpleasant in one way or another; though his black-haired, dark-eyed 'assistant' (Hakkai had no idea how he knew these details, as he'd never actually seen him)  didn't seem to be a threat, he was vigilant, all the same. 

   More soy sauce.  It should be a bit more salty than sweet.

    Sometimes, these visits were nothing more than the ghost of a whisper in his mind.  Other times, Hakkai could have sworn that he could feel the heat of the man's breath on his neck.  It was disturbingly familiar, that sensation.  Though he generally detested interference in his tasks, Hakkai followed the suggestions more often than not.  In time, he became accustomed to it, and hardly gave it a thought, except...

    "Man, Hakkai, this sukiyaki is awesome!  The perfect amount of soy sauce."

    "I'm glad you like it, Gojyo."

    Except, somehow, it was a threat.

Handbook 

   Nii smirked to himself as he crushed out his cigarette, picking up the folders and the videotape from his desk.  He sauntered into the next room, Bunny tucked snugly under one arm, and beamed smugly at his guests.  The tension in the room was thick enough to chew, which only served to amuse him.  No matter how many times he got them together, they would always be at each other's throats.  It made things just that much more fun, in Nii's (admittedly unique) opinion.

    He slipped the tape into the VCR across the room, ensured that everything was ready (as much as he enjoyed their company, their combined technological IQ wouldn't give Bunny a run for his money), and turned to face the two young men who waited.  His habitual smirk must have widened, giving him away somewhat, because both of the pretty faces before him suddenly looked wary.  He wondered, briefly, what would be the result of letting them know how that affected him.  It would either lead to abject obedience or wholesale mutiny, he surmised.  Neither option worked for him, the one being too easy and the other too big a pain in the ass.

    Nii strode past his playmates, tossing each a folder.  "Read them, then watch the tape boys.  There will be a test."  Leaving his office door open, he settled into his chair, propping his feet on his desk and waiting for the reaction.

    His little blond pupil was the first to flip his folder open, his eyes widening.  The other followed suit, mouth forming a little 'o' of surprise.  Nii smiled to himself.  He'd predicted correctly.

     It seemed that the angel had a little more of the devil in him, after all.

The Mother of Invention 

   It wasn't the first time, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.  Neckties were removed and tossed aside, buttons popped through holes - one just off - and labcoats dropped to the ground.  Glasses...glasses remained, because hedonism has certain requirements.

   The spaces between were tolerable, even pleasant, but when this came back around, it was a fire in the marrow.  Breath caught, quickened at a touch, a word, a look from eyes remarkably similar, yet eons apart.  Still, they agreed, there was nothing to be done for it.  Good conversation was so very difficult to come by and, for them, it was a part of the dance.  No point in denials, in wasting time with pretences while time wound on around them.  They would never meet, after all.

    "You know," a shifting of weight and a groan for contact, "time machines weren't built for this purpose."

    Black lashes against pale cheeks, the sharp hiss of pleasure/pain and a wolfish grin, "Bullshit.  This is exactly what I built it for."

Bothersome

   It didn't matter where they were, or what was happening.  They could be fighting the usual ragged demon hordes, eating dinner or sleeping...nothing ever changed it.  When they played cards, it was there.  When they spent aching days in the jeep, it remained.  Years later, it would still exist, that quiet thing that they never talked about.  It bound and connected, always comforting in its familiarity.   Sometimes, when they were apart, it would stretch and grow thin, like taffy pulled too far.

    Once, he had felt crowded and intruded upon, but now the memory of 'before' had faded to insubstantiality.  Every morning when he woke up, during every day on the road, every night in his dreams, there was the pulsing, unmistakeable presence in his mind.  And that, Sanzo decided, was all right and more.  It was right.

Told You So

    Hakkai collapsed onto the bed, hair damp and sticking to his forehead.  His breath came in ragged gasps through lips stretched into am almost painful grin.  Every muscle in his body was tingling, exhausted.  The sheet below him was crumpled, having slipped off the corners of the mattress, and the pillows had disappeared entirely.  He moved his legs, tugging to disentangle them from Gojyo's, and chuckling at his own ineffectual efforts.

     After a few moments, he slipped free and the movement of the bed beneath him jiggled him a little as Gojyo turned himself around.  Settling in behind Hakkai, he leaned over, reaching out to the night table for the book that lay open on top of it.  He held it up and they both looked at the picture there.

     Gojyo nuzzled into Hakkai's neck, saying in a low, satisfied voice, "See? I told you it would work."