Bluffing
by Helena Handbasket

            “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Gojyo.”  Hakkai’s brow was furrowed as he sat on the bed, arms folded.  His words said, “no”, but there was a little sparkle in his good eye that revealed him to be intrigued, that maybe with a little coaxing, he could be convinced to say “yes.”

            “Oh, come on,” Gojyo prodded.  “What’s the big deal?”  It had only been a few weeks since Gonou returned from the “dead”, resurrected as Hakkai – and Gojyo still owed that fucking monk a punch in the teeth for that little deception – but he already seemed like he belonged there.  Already Gojyo couldn’t imagine his life without him, and he felt a strange compulsion to work his new roommate into every facet of his existence.

            “First of all, it’s wrong,” Hakkai began, showing no hint of awareness that those words coming out of the mouth of a mass-murdering incest perpetrator carried a healthy dose of irony.  “And second, it could… complicate things.”

            “If by ‘complicate’ you mean ‘make even better,’” he retorted.  “Come on, think about it.  Every night it’s just you and me, alone in this apartment.  All we ever do is sit around playing cards.”

            “And I enjoy that.  Don’t you?” Hakkai’s tone was not so much wounded as subtly menacing, as if he were challenging Gojyo to suggest that his personal nirvana was comprised of anything other than companionable domesticity. 

            Gojyo sighed.  “Of course I enjoy it, dolt.  You think I’m so altruistic as to spend every freakin’ night engaged in activities I don’t enjoy?”

            Hakkai’s arched eyebrow spoke of a joke internally processed and chuckled at, but whatever he found so funny didn’t apparently merit voicing aloud.  Instead, he said, “So what’s the problem?”

            “There’s no problem.  All I’m saying is that our life is nice.  Good.  But you and me together?  We could make it spectacular.” 

            Hakkai considered this argument for a moment, but, stubborn as ever, eventually shook his head.  “I don’t think so.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because it’s not me, Gojyo.  It’s not the kind of thing I do.”

            “Well, technically, you were only born three weeks ago, so the kind of things you ‘do’ are up in the air, wouldn’t you say?”  Ha.  Zing.

            “Well then technically what you’ve just proposed constitutes corrupting a minor.”  Hakkai tilted his head complacently, and Gojyo winced.  He’d just been counter-zinged.

            Recognizing a futile argument, Gojyo threw his hands up.  “Fine.  Forget I said anything.”  He strode to the door and scooped up his jacket from where it lay on a heap in the floor.

            “Where are you going?”  Hakkai sounded concerned, but it was too late for that shit.  If he wasn’t going to play ball, that was his own choice.

            “Out.  I’m not getting any action here, so I’m going elsewhere.  A man has needs, you know.”

            “Gojyo, don’t be mad.”

            “I’m not mad.  I’m… frustrated.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be.  You are what you are.”  To this, Gojyo added a silent, “namely an uncooperative bastard.”

            He left Hakkai blinking at him in bewildered silence as he bundled his coat over his chest and prepared for the long, cold walk into town.

            *          *          *

            Gojyo stumbled home at three in the morning.  He’d made a tidy sum at the poker table, though not nearly as much as he had wished for, and gone home with a cute little brunette.  She had been fun enough, he guessed, but nothing spectacular.  On both points he was feeling uncharacteristically dissatisfied.  There had been a time when he was happy to get a willing bedmate and enough cash to last him through the next day, but that wasn’t enough anymore.  Silently, he cursed Hakkai for being so easily contented.

            When he staggered into the darkened living room, meticulously tidied in his absence, he found a glass of water, two aspirin, and a note left out for him on the table.  He gulped down the water and pills, and scanned the note, which read:

            Gojyo,

Please put the glass in the sink and do not leave your smoke-smelling clothing scattered all over the living room.  I’ll have coffee ready in the morning, and I’m making omelets, so don’t sleep too late.

            - Hakkai

            Gojyo wadded up the note and tossed it in the corner, replaced the glass firmly on the tabletop, and strategically disrobed, flinging clothing in every direction.  He completed this rebellious masterpiece by hanging his briefs from the ceiling fan before shuffling off to bed.

            *          *          *

            By the time he awoke the next noon the living room was clean, his clothes folded, and the heavenly smell of coffee filled his nostrils.  He lurched out of bed, squinting against the sunlight, and lumbered to the kitchen for his morning – or rather afternoon – pick-me-up. 

Hakkai was on the sofa, reading a newspaper.  When Gojyo emerged, glued to his coffee cup, he greeted him with bright normalcy, unfettered by resentful accusations.  “Did you have a pleasant evening?”

“Not pleasant enough,” Gojyo grumbled.  Intellectually, he knew he should respect Hakkai’s principles, but the little kid inside him felt only resentment for not getting its way.

Nodding vaguely, Hakkai returned to his paper while Gojyo breakfasted on cold eggs.

“Hey,” said Gojyo tentatively after a long silence.  “I’m… I’m thinking of taking off for a while.”

“Oh?  Where?”

“Not far… just thought I’d check out a little village a few miles east.  It’s supposed to have high stakes and gorgeous ladies.”

“Ah.”  Though the syllable was laden with disapproval, Gojyo had hoped for more of a reaction.  He wasn’t crazy.  He knew that Hakkai was tempted, but he wasn’t going to renew his suggestion.  Either Hakkai would come around or he wouldn’t.  For now, Gojyo would just let it ride and see what happened.

            After breakfast, he packed a small bag and prepared for his journey.  He paused at the door, glancing back at Hakkai, who was still engrossed in the newspaper.  “Look,” he said, trying desperately not to sound awkward.  “I hope I didn’t piss you off or anything.  I was merely thinking about us, looking for a way to make our lives better.”

            “Yes,” Hakkai replied quietly, his gaze penetrating.  “I know.”

            He knew.  He understood.  But still he didn’t say anything.  With a sigh, Gojyo strode out into the sunlight, closing the door quietly behind him.

            *          *          *

            As it turned out, the appeals of the village down the road had been exaggerated, but only slightly.  The stakes were higher, the women hotter, and it was a refreshing change to sit across the table from unfamiliar faces.  Throughout the night, Gojyo glanced surreptitiously around the bar, secretly hoping that Hakkai had followed him, but this distraction didn’t keep him from beating the pants off his opponents.  At the end of the night he went home with a leggy blonde, thereby avoiding the onus of having to find accommodations.  She was no more stimulating than the brunette of the previous evening, but at least he had a place to stay.

            He arrived at the tavern late the next evening, feeling it was better to avoid scaring off new marks before they had made a significant outlay.  When he sidled up the table, there were five players, three of whom he recognized from the previous night’s game.  The familiar faces nodded at him, and he took a seat across from a man with a substantial pile of chips who had turned to flirt with a striking woman clearly fulfilling the role of good luck charm.  When the man turned back to the table, Gojyo was jarred by the contrast of familiar and unfamiliar.  It was Hakkai’s face, but distorted by a mask of arrogance, Hakkai’s body, but garbed in uncharacteristically shabby – and startlingly tight – leather.  When he looked at him, the usually gentle green eyes were cold, with no hint of recognition.

            “Another new guy,” said Jun, the player to Gojyo’s left.  “Showed up this afternoon.”

            Hakkai rose with the dismissive swagger of a man ruled by hubris, held out his hand, and pronounced, “Cho Hakkai.”

            “Uh… Gojyo.  Sha Gojyo.”  He blinked uncertainly at his friend’s alien, predatory expression as they shook hands.

            Hakkai retook his seat, leaning toward the man next to him to inquire, “This guy new meat?  A sucker?”

            “No way,” Jun piped up, giving Gojyo a hearty slap on the shoulder.  “He cleaned us out last night.”

            “Oh really?”  Hakkai’s expression was begrudgingly respectful, but nevertheless unimpressed.  “An admirable accomplishment.  But I suspect his cleaning skills are not so formidable as he believes.”

            Bristling at the subtle barb, Gojyo shot back, “Oh yeah?  Well we’ll see about that, won’t we?”

            The game went on for hours, and Hakkai drank heavily, his voice becoming slurred, his actions lethargic.  Occasionally he’d make an obvious bluff, luring the stakes to mount, and Gojyo took full advantage, as it always seemed to happen when he had a particularly good hand.  Other times, Hakkai made piddling bets as the pot grew and grew, only to triumph with something sick like a royal flush.  By five o’clock, everyone was broke but them, and Gojyo found himself behind a pile of chips ten times larger than his previous night’s takings.  Hakkai’s pile was almost as large, but not quite.

            “Another hand?” Gojyo suggested.

            “Sure,” said the stranger that was Hakkai.  Before even looking at his cards, he said, “All in,” and pushed his substantial pile to the center of the table.  Gojyo lifted his eyebrows, but acquiesced, only to be foiled by a jacks-over-fours boat to his ace-king pair.  Two more hands, and Gojyo was out of cash. 

            The bimbo that had been hovering over Hakkai’s shoulder all night squealed with glee and embraced him.  Hakkai kissed her hand, but despite the sloppiness of the gesture, Gojyo stiffened with unexpected jealousy.  Who the fuck was she, anyway?  The Hakkai he knew had been the antithesis of a cad, but this guy had all his money, had usurped his favorite pants, and was making time with the hottest chick in the bar.  Gojyo narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was supposed to be some kind of a lesson.  As Hakkai left the bar, his weight unsteadily balanced on the girl’s shoulders, a pretty barmaid knelt at Gojyo’s side. 

            “I was watching,” she said.  “You played well tonight.  Sorry about how it ended.”

            “Aw, it’s nothing,” said Gojyo with a shrug.  “That jerk just got lucky, that’s all.”

            “Not as lucky as you’re going to get,” she replied, dropping her eyes bashfully.

            Gojyo’s despondency vanished, and he looked up with a sly smile.  “Lucky?  I can handle that.”

            *          *          *

            Hakkai was there again the next night, but fortune had largely abandoned him.  Time after time he ran out of chips, only to renew his stock with a fraction of the previous night’s take, with Gojyo reaping most of the benefits.  The bimbo was there too, but over the course of the game, she distanced herself from Hakkai, her disinterest increasing proportionately as his losses mounted.  By the end of the night she was hanging all over Gojyo, who had a year’s rent in front of him and a smile the size of the Great Wall.

            Finally calling it quits, Hakkai slouched off to the bar to drown his sorrows, while the bimbo pulled Gojyo’s arm into her ample bosom and whispered, “Come back to my place.”

            High on the thrill of victory, Gojyo complied, but as they reached her doorstep, his conscience got the better of him.  Gambling Hakkai was an arrogant prick, but he had taken this girl home the evening before.  While there was something strangely appealing about sticking his dick in a place where Hakkai’s had already been, he couldn’t help but worry that his friend had somehow fallen for this slut and would resent him for it.

            “Wait,” said Gojyo, carefully pressing back on her shoulders to remove her tongue from his mouth.  “Didn’t you sleep with that other guy just last night?”

            She rolled her eyes.  “Nah.  He was too drunk to stay awake, let alone get it up.  You’re a bigger man than that, I hope.”

            Gojyo frowned.  Suddenly all the appeal in this woman was gone.  She was hot, sure, but Hakkai hadn’t fucked her and she was a total bitch.  “I’ll tell you what,” he said.  “Stick with me tomorrow night, and we’ll seal the deal.”

            “Oh, come on,” she pouted, making a grab for his crotch.  “I’m horny now.”

            “Then you’ll be hornier tomorrow,” Gojyo shot back with a rakish grin.  And at that he ambled off to spend a fraction of his winnings at a nice, comfortable inn.

            *          *          *

            Night Three proved more exciting than anticipated.  Gojyo showed up early, closely followed by Hakkai, and soon the bar’s patrons started making bets on which of the two would end up the winner.  The odds were heavily stacked in Gojyo’s favor, since he had played consistently well while Hakkai had been hot and cold.  Jun, Gojyo’s friend from earlier in the series, had declined to play, instead directing the betting pool of the throng of patrons that had showed up to watch the magic.

            Hakkai was in a foul mood, scowling at anyone who glanced at him, and seemed to be put further out of countenance by the external betting pool.  Finally, he barked, “Hey.  Jin, or whatever your name is.  If these assholes are going to be betting on us, we should at least get a cut.  I want twenty five percent of your takings if I win, or else I’m not playing.”  He fixed Gojyo with a pointed glare, the first in three days that bore any hint of recognition.

            Gojyo recognized the importance of his participation and piped up with, “Yeah, me too.”

            Jun gave him a withering look, but gave a reluctant nod of affirmation, saying, “You hear that boys?  The winner gets a quarter of your take.”

            A surge of disgruntled murmurs flooded the bar, but the rate of bet-placing didn’t abate.  The net effect was that more of the gamblers were wagering on Hakkai – if you were going to lose a quarter of your take, it might as well be a big take.  Suddenly, the stakes had gone way up.  It was no longer just about pride and money.  Now it was about pride and lots of money.

            Hakkai started drinking early, and more bets poured in as he began to lose and the odds lengthened.  The bimbo stood loyally at Gojyo’s shoulder, expectant of a reward that he was no particularly inclined to provide.  Hakkai played well, but had a couple of bad breaks and, due to the betting pool, was forbidden to buy in for further chips.  By midnight, the odds had lengthened to 100 to 1, with bets proliferating as the absent villagers were apprised of the hot stakes at the tavern.  When Hakkai bet his last chip, Gojyo folded a huge pot on a straight flush, losing to a pair of queens, and looked justifiably stricken.  Hakkai was back and ready for blood.

            As the night wore on, Hakkai began winning, although he appeared increasingly inebriated as he downed bottle after bottle of sake.  Gojyo felt the uncertainty at his shoulder, as the bimbo weighed the advantages of going with the winner against backing a guy who would fail to put out.  When the long game finally drew to a close, Hakkai sat in front of a mountainous pile of chips, and arrogantly demanded his cut of the betting profits, while Gojyo had nothing but the clothes on his back and a highly persistent bimbo.

            With a defeated sigh, he rose to leave, bimbo in tow. 

            “Wait,” Hakkai called as he cashed out.  “Tell you what, Sha, I’ve got a proposition for you.”

            Gojyo peered back at him suspiciously.  “Oh yeah?  What’s that.”

            “Let me go home with your lady friend, and my winnings are yours.”

            Incredulous, Gojyo blinked back at him in disbelief.  Maybe that jackass really had fallen for her.  “What?”

            “You heard me.  Take it or leave it.  The countdown starts now.”

            With a snort implying that the answer was obvious, Gojyo disengaged the bimbo’s arm from his, handed her over to Hakkai, and scooped up the armload of cash.  “Enjoy.”

            Hakkai leered at the girl, and offered a self-satisfied bow to the astonished tavern patrons.  “I’m sure I will.”

            *          *          *

            Gojyo stomped back to the inn and flung himself on the bed, overcome by the alien concept that some things just weren’t worth a shitload of money.  Hakkai was banging that girl right now, and for some reason that pissed him off.  The last couple of days had been paradoxical.  Seeing Hakkai every night had made him long for his companionship, made him miss the normal Hakkai, without the leather and attitude and rampant libido.  Sure, he’d made more money than he’d ever seen in his life, but it was a small consolation when he had no idea what Hakkai was up to.  The poker thing he understood, but the bimbo?  It defied reason.  Did Hakkai think he was simultaneously doling out reward and punishment?  Because if so, he was more deluded than Gojyo had ever suspected.

            The answer came about a half an hour later, when a soft knock arose at the door.  Gojyo ignored it at first, thinking it was the barmaid come for an encore performance, but he stiffened in his bed when a soft voice drifted through the door.  “Gojyo?  It’s me.  Open up.”

            For a moment he was tempted to refuse, but that amiable voice, so different from the hard-edged speech that had addressed him from across the table for three days convinced him to give in.  Hakkai entered as the door unbolted, and shut it quickly behind him.

            “Have a nice evening?” Gojyo spat, folding his arms sulkily.

            “I think we both did,” Hakkai replied happily, indicating the sack of coins in the corner.  “With some minor supplementation from odd jobs, this could last us for years.”

            “Yeah, I guess.”

            Hakkai was perplexed.  “But it worked.  You’re plan worked!  We were able to play the gamblers off each other and make a ton of cash.  So what’s the problem?”

            Gojyo narrowed his eyes.  “What made you change your mind?”

            “Well, I’ll admit that I was reluctant when you first brought it up.  I’m no con artist, and I don’t like bilking innocent people, but after you left I realized you really were thinking about our welfare.  We do have needs, after all, food and housing not the least of them.”

            Against his inclination, Gojyo smiled.  His conflicted feelings about Hakkai were tempered by the knowledge that his plan of combining their skills at gambling, under the pretense of being opponents, had been a categorical success.  “And those needs are taken care of for a while.” 

            “Indeed they are.  I’ll admit it: you were right and I was wrong.  Maybe making cash off of compulsive gamblers isn’t so unethical after all, at least not so unethical that I can’t participate.”

            Gojyo’s sense of triumph dimmed a bit of the thought of just how much Hakkai had participated.  Banging the bimbo was extraneous to their plan, but it still bugged the fuck out of Gojyo, and he wasn’t quite certain why.  This uncertainly, however, was not going to keep him from being petulant about it.  “We scored big.  Great.  So what’s up with the cock-blocking?”

            “Oh,” said Hakkai, looking rightfully embarrassed, “that.”

            “Yes, that,” Gojyo replied haughtily.  “Don’t get me wrong – I didn’t really want to fuck her or anything, but what if I had?  The money was ours either way.  Did you really need to get your rocks off that badly?  If so, you should have stayed sober the first night.”

            In a strange counterpoint to Gojyo’s self-righteous rancor, Hakkai laughed.  “Gojyo.  Do you really have so little faith in my powers of dissemblance?”

            “Eh?”

            “I had to pretend to be drunk, to establish a pattern that others thought they could read.  It was the only way to raise the stakes for the denouement.”

            “Stop using words like that.”

            “Sorry.  By ‘denouement’ I mean, ‘us picking up a fat pile of cash.’”

            Gojyo frowned at the translation, but conceded, “That’s better.”  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Hakkai.  “So you really didn’t sleep with that girl?”

            “Of course not,” he laughed.  “I walked her home safely and came straight here.”

            “But why?” Gojyo insisted, unable to pin down just why Hakkai’s celibacy should bring him such relief.  “What was the point?”

            Hakkai paused, sliding his eyes to the side in uncertain contemplation.  “Honestly?  Because I wanted you to be alone tonight.”  At Gojyo’s clueless shrug, he elaborated.  “You know how in poker, you sometimes hold back on a sure thing in order to provoke greater winnings later on?”

            “Yeah.  So?”

            “So I used my reservations as an excuse to put off your proposal.”

            “Even though you knew you’d give in to it anyway. “

            “Yes.”

            “Why?”

            “In hopes of getting the chance to do this.”   He stepped forward, gripping the back of Gojyo’s head and pulling him in for a fervent kiss.  Gojyo’s eyes widened, but the kiss soon drew him in, overwhelming him with a connection he hadn’t even realized he was longing for.  Suddenly, he realized that the appeal of fucking a girl Hakkai had fucked was just a substitute means of fucking Hakkai himself.  This was the source of his dissatisfaction of late, the reason why the mere winning of money had not been enough.

            As he pulled away, breathless and astonishingly hard, Gojyo said, “You know, this may complicate things.”

            “If by ‘complicate’ you mean, ‘make even better’,” said Hakkai, pushing him toward the bed with a sly smile, “And as it turns out, I’m a complicated guy.”

End.