“He looked at me… and smiled, I think.”
- Gojyo, Volume Five, page 16
The day after their victory is the day that the sun shines bright and fierce and in your face.
You wish it ill. You wish the world, as a whole, a very ill and horrible day.
It is unfortunate that this does not seem likely, but you’re not one that rallies around expectations.
All you know is that the Sex Beast that is Sha Gojyo is hungover and tired, and as Sha Gojyo, you don’t think that you hate anyone more than you hate Goku right now because the monkey is poking and prodding and asking stupid questions. It’s early but Sanzo, who’s probably suffering a worse hangover than you are, you miserable creature, is already putting people at gunpoint and demanding supplies for the long road home.
When you learned that the grand escapade was over you weren’t jumping for joy or anything, it doesn’t really affect the fact that you still have to live with that weird smell in the backseat of Jeep. You weren’t happy or sad, just kind of thirsty for some of that sweet demon liquor.
So here you are, you’ve saved the world and you’re dehydrated and your hair could use a wash or two (or three, possibly with lye water). Now, you’re heading back to an apartment the size of a matchbox after sampling the exotic taste of women from a hundred different places. You figure that you’ve done your metaphorical jury duty for the world and can now go back to having great sex and drinking great booze. If possible, you would like to be doing both sometime around tomorrow night, as soon as you get over this wicked hangover.
Going home is like getting here in the first place, you know, albeit with less killing and stuff.
By the time the sun is spilling out over the world, Sanzo’s already threatened to shoot everyone at least three times and the monkey has eaten a whole crate of apples. There’s something that’s so normal about the fact that a priest (technically your priest) is trying to shoot the smirk off a monkey who’s stuffing fruit into its mouth like it’s going out of style.
As far as you are concerned, Good has triumphed over Bad, for the most part ‘til it’s time for breakfast and you learn that Hakkai has cooked fish.
You end up spending ten minutes gagging into a bush over the smell.
Maybe you were wrong about that whole, “Good triumphing over Bad” thing; after all, you always knew Hakkai was kind of evil.
Sanzo clambers over your head, nearly kicks you in the face, and takes up most of the back seat around the time when the sun is starting to climb above the horizon and your headache is only growing worse. He’s sleeping away before long. No one complains; Hakkai never has before, Goku doesn’t because he never has (and never really does, when it comes to the priest), and you don’t because you’ve been shot before and don’t particularly want to experience that again.
This means that you end up in the front, after a lot of shouting and sniping, with Hakkai, which is fine because you don’t have to fight anyone for snacks or deal with that smell (no, really, what is that smell?).
In the first hour of driving, the sun is so harsh in your eyes that you end up with head tilted back and, and from the corner of your eyes, can comfortably watch the edges of Hakkai’s mouth.
If he notices the way that you’re staring at him, he doesn’t show it much ‘cept for the way in which his mouth is turned up, like he’s thought of something amusing. He doesn’t comment, which is nice, because you don’t think you can deal with stringing together complete sentences with that acidic headache.
You make small talk with him in the way only you two can, with you speaking in monosyllables and him filling in all the blanks. You don’t even get to complete most of your short sentences, half the time, because he always answers swiftly and politely and as if he knew what you were just going to say. You’ve been getting that feeling that he can read your mind, lately. Maybe that’s why he’s smiling all the time.
You start talking about all the pretty girls you’ve met (and fucked, but you leave that part out) and he doesn’t say much about it, if anything at all. He gives you the creepiest smile, though, when you start running out of names.
Hakkai comments that there’s still a long ways to go and many an obstacle to overcome.
“Yeah,” you say, with your eyes on his mouth, “I’m out of smokes.”
You’re even more creeped out when he smiles wider.
By the third day of driving back you’re starting to go a little stir-crazy.
Sanzo is in, what apparently seems like, a coma about half the time. Either that or he’s trying to play dead so that the monkey won’t harass him. The monkey in question is just sitting there and watching Baldy breathe, like a complete moron.
You’re starting to wonder if you have to give Goku The Talk because he may be 18 (or 518, or whatever) but he sure as hell doesn’t act like it.
You figure that the last person who should do it is the Priestly One, because you’re pretty sure he hasn’t ever gotten laid (not that you haven’t offered, or anything). The very idea that Baldy could ever talk to anyone about sex seriously makes you crack up, or want to cry for the world.
You’re the most experienced, really, so it’d only be natural… and you are almost like his older brother. It should be your responsibility. Your privilege. Your right.
Because if anyone should be pushing Goku into Baldy’s general direction with a box of condoms, it should be you.
It’s the fifth day and you’re definitely going crazy.
Because... because, when did Hakkai start smiling at you like that?
Maybe it’s the drink talking (and you know that it is the drinking talking) but you’ve noticed that the way that Hakkai moves has changed, and fuck, if you could explain how you knew there was a change you would. He just moved differently. You’re not sure why, but this makes you a little nervous, which made the long road trip a bit uncomfortable and distracting, which is why you’re in this bar tonight.
What you do know is that Hakkai has the longest fingers that you’ve ever seen on a human (youkai) in, possibly, forever, because he has his fingers pressed to your wrists lightly.
The thought is blowing you away. Hell, this wind is blowing you away by now, you’re that sloshed.
You sure don’t remember drink being so strong, but the town’s people thinks you guys are heroes and you, for one, aren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, or for the matter, two or three rounds on the house. And drinks - funny thing about drinks, really - sure did make the women prettier, by all accounts, and you could have gotten a few of those very pleasant young ladies to bed if Hakkai hadn’t smiled so nicely at them.
Hakkai, you know, smiles at everyone. But sometimes he’s just so... so scary when he does it like that (with all his sharp, perfectly white teeth gleaming).
You don’t even remember Hakkai coming with you to the bar in the first place, though admittedly the last two hours have been a haze. You do remember, however, that by the time you had won your fifth hand (and a little kiss from that nice little waitress) Hakkai had very politely told the guys and girls that Sha Gojyo, if you would be so kind as to let him go, was most definitely needed the next morning and preferably not dead from alcohol poisoning.
You don’t know how he managed to pick you up off the floor and carry you out the door. You never knew that he could be so strong or sturdy, because he’s managed to help you avoid hitting anything hard and rock-like while you weave through the empty streets. You’re pretty sure you’ve left your knees back at the bar but Hakkai doesn’t seem to think so and he won’t take you back to retrieve them, which is a pity.
Hakkai, for one, doesn’t seem to think much of your singing, in Chinese or any other language. Or, for the matter, your dancing skills as you attempt to show him something you learned from the guy at the bar.
You really hope that Hakkai doesn’t think that he can half-carry you all the way home when you could just call over a little chase, or something, because the street’s long and dark and it keeps twisting underneath your dragging feet. But, he seems determined to drag your sorry ass back to the inn at any cost and grips one of your limp arms to pull you up.
Hakkai’s fingers, man, are they fucking long.
“You didn’t really have to carry me, you know. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
“Well, you do need me, you can’t even find matching socks most days. Now, just let me get the door and — Ah. See? And now that it’s open let’s get you to bed and tucked away.”
“Did you say something?”
“No, I think I’m going to be good now. I’m on the bed and everything, see? And I’m not even barfing all my guts out.”
“Well, good ni-
You’ve had a lot of compromising situations in your life, so pull yourself together.
It really doesn’t matter if your best friend, and something of a real beauty, is pinning you down to the bed and no, your mind is not supposed to even touch that train of thought because...
Because, Sha Gojyo, there is something called Fucking Around and there’s something else called fucking around and you, my friend, are doing, or about to do, the latter.
Fucking Around would be making Hakkai, who is a smaller and lighter than you, carry your drooling, limp, body up two flights of stairs. Fucking Around is trying to see how long it takes for him to get the door open while you flail around groping for the doorframe to lean on. Fucking Around is when you wink at the pretty girls that giggle as they walk by you and your friend, who is very reasonably trying to open the door, and then turn your mouth to Hakkai’s ears and breathe into them about what you’d like to do to said pretty girls.
You’ve been Fucking Around for most of your life. This could possibly explain why you picked up some carcass on the road, shoved its guts back in, and breathed life into it. This could also explain why you were on this whole giant Odyssey in the first place.
The point is that you’ve been Fucking Around for a good portion of your life. So maybe it’s karma or something, but you deserved to be Fucked Around with a little now and then.
This would totally explain the way that Hakkai is looking down on you right now, while you’re all sprawled out on the bed. He’s looking at you with the “Gojyo, I hope you don’t mind if I just borrow your jacket for a minute and patch up the elbows, ne?” look, except you know you left your jacket at the bottom of the closet and are three years from that moment.
And maybe it’s because you’re drunk, that you can look into his eyes and see something that just is more, something that’s always been at the corner of your mind.
“My,” you rasp as his hair falls over your face, “Granny, what big teeth you have.”
It could be because you’re drunk, but your throat feels so dry and suddenly you want something cold and green to drink.
This, certainly, is not Fucking Around. But you always kind of knew that.
You always knew you were a bit of a hopeless romantic. Forget it, you were just hopeless from the get-go.
Maybe it’s the way that he looks at you, like he’s biting into an apple and savoring the taste. You now know that Hakkai’s kind of hunger is full of motion and something between honesty and desperation. For all his polite smiles and looks, you never thought that he could be so starved.
Then again - as he pulls you in close, closer, closest - you don’t need to think when you know. And it feels like you and he have known for a long time.
If Gojyo notices the look on your face he doesn’t comment. Most of all, you know, he’s thinking about being home, warm, and asleep on a real bed instead of on the cot that now smells like sex and beer. You want to go back home to.
Go back home to his bed. Your bed. Our bed.
Yes, that would be nice.
- I call it Kiregire for it is in the style that I write. Which is to say, I write in 'pieces'. XD
- I don't know why, but I really like writing drunk!Gojyo. His voice just flows better in that state.
- And, to state the obvious, the last piece of the story is Hakkai’s POV. Why? Because I can.