"Fuck," Sanzo muttered to the pillow.

The creaky noise of the bedsprings came to an abrupt halt, as did the rocking and thrusting movements on top -- inside -- of him.

"Sanzo? Are --"

"Don't stop, damn you." ...realizing, only a second too late, that he ought to have growled 'it.' Not 'you.' Anyway, Sanzo turned an awkward angle to look over his shoulder, in the general direction of Hakkai's face. All he could see, though, was dark brown hair.

Then there was a wisp of breath against his skin. "How can I not stop, Sanzo," Hakkai reasoned, not too reproachfully, "when you have your head in your hand like that?"

Only then did Sanzo feel his palm against his forehead.

What. Had he been thinking that hard?

Clenching his eyes shut for one second, the monk ground his chakra against the base of his palm, then stopped abruptly and instead began to slide his elbows out from under his chest. Hakkai was already pulling out of him before he could snap at him to get off. The separation, though, left him doubly more irritated, especially with the still-painful need between his thighs.

Nonetheless he heaved and turned his naked self over. When he sat back against the pillow against the headboard, he was unable to not frown at the glistening head of his erection.

"Fuck," again Sanzo muttered, glaring at the bare mattress. He wanted desperately to grind himself on Hakkai, against that long, jagged scar across his belly, and it certainly didn't help that Hakkai had seated his own naked self before him, between the unconcerned spread of his legs, running his flattened hand up and down his own crotch.

In reflex, Sanzo twisted to his left and reached for his cigarettes and lighter next to his pistol on the nightstand. From behind the damp, flaxen strands of hair against his right eye, he could see Hakkai trying to dry his brow with the backs of his hands, and maybe observing him light his stick.

Then, Sanzo leaned back against the pillow again and smoked, looking -- past the three gleaming metal clips on Hakkai's left ear -- at the bare gray wall ahead across the room. For some time he just sat there, and dragged, and frowned, and only blinked when Hakkai shifted somewhat and the white glint from the lamp bulb caught in his monocle struck Sanzo blind for one second.

When neither of them still moved nor attempted to speak within the next several minutes, Sanzo felt as though he was come over with an odd kind of discomfort, like he suddenly ached to crush something hard, yet intangible, in his hand.

Finally, just as the cigarette was almost down to its filter, Sanzo cast his weak frown in Hakkai's direction, and disclosed what'd been mobbing his mind all along:

"I don't know you."

...

Hakkai's bony fingers wound loosely around his bony wrist. "Ah." He swallowed briefly, almost unnoticeably, lifting his green eyes to meet Sanzo's violet eyes. "Meaning?"

Sanzo gave a tiny, annoyed shrug, tapping bits of ash to the floor. "I don't know you," he merely repeated, not bothering to grope for the words that would answer the question. In a few moments, he just simply turned back to the wall, roughly sighing, "Goku, he likes food. Gojyo likes women.

...

I don't even know what you like." ...realizing, only a second too late, that that wasn't how he'd meant it to sound.

Of course, he could have worded it another way -- the more truthful way -- but he wasn't actually so sure of it himself, either.

"Well." Then Hakkai was smiling again. Not his usual smile, but it looked like one nevertheless. Sliding a hand beside Sanzo's shin, he returned, "I hardly know anything about you, myself."

Sanzo gave a sneering grunt. "But you don't have me screwing you up the ass, do you?"

The almost-laugh out of Hakkai was far from the amused sort. "But I do not have a loaded gun within reach everytime I do screw you, on the other hand."

"You know why it's there."

"I do, but you know that is hardly the point."

"Ch." What the hell was the goddamn point, anyway. So Sanzo didn't bother to come back anymore. He stubbed his cigarette out on the nightstand, frowning as some bits of the ash slipped right to his robe on the floor. When he sat back and looked forward again, Hakkai had already leaned toward him, catching his jaw in his hand and kissing him like he'd never been so desirous of his mouth. Sanzo barely moved his lips in response, partly distracted by his own smell on Hakkai, but by the next few moments he was kissing him back with almost just as much vehemence.

Then he felt Hakkai pulling his legs apart, wider, and easing him further down against the pillow. And when they broke the kiss momentarily, Sanzo felt Hakkai nudging into his ass once again. "You never let me do it like this," Hakkai smiled down at him.

Sanzo's snort was needlessly loud. "You bitch too much. No wonder Gojyo was never interested."

Hakkai began to push slowly and push deep into him. "You have always had a hurtful way of expressing your insecurities, Sanzo."

Sanzo glowered up at the smiling bastard, but clung hard to the headboard behind him nonetheless. "Just do it already, damn you."

"Hai hai."

And as he arched and ground fiercely into Hakkai's thrusts, somehow, Sanzo managed not to bother himself anymore with thoughts of Hakkai with Gojyo after this whole fucking mission would have ended.

Incidentally, then, he glanced at the window to his right. Uhn. It was still lashing outside.

END