On Wednesday night and Thursday night Gojyo'd dreamt he was getting laid under a sakura tree, but apparently good things never came in threes since he couldn't remember having that same dream on Friday night, too. Still, he couldn't feel too let down waking up and finding the monk still in the bed with him. This made him grin wide, as if he wasn't just pleased but, hey, actually happy.

Sanzo had sat up between Gojyo and the lumpy wall, but with the heavy shadows and from where his head sank in their shared pillow, Gojyo could barely appreciate Sanzo's back or the back of his shoulders and head. So he shoved himself up until his head touched the loose headboard and he pulled on the rusty chain of the nightstand lamp to his left. Sanzo was doing something with his gun, probably cleaning it again and shit. In the dingy yellow light, he looked wet and in need of a wash. Or, another fuck. Either way it soon got Gojyo's dick hard.

"Shut off the goddamn light."

But Gojyo wouldn't and just kept grinning at Sanzo's nude back. "Good morning yourself, asshole."

"It's hardly past midnight, idiot."

"You gotta be shitting me." Gojyo turned his raised eyebrows to the lone window. It was still black around the drape's edges alright, no lighter than when he last laid eyes on it, probably not twenty minutes ago while he had Sanzo bent over the foot of the bed. "Heh. 'S'good, then. We got lotsa time for another go." Along the bony trail of that curved spine, he dragged the tip of his forefinger up Sanzo's back.

"Stop it." Sanzo bothered finally to look at Gojyo, an almost miserable scowl over his shoulder.

From between Sanzo's shoulder blades, Gojyo dragged the same finger down Sanzo's back, even more deliberately this time. Barring one or two things, probably, there was nothing he got a kick out of more than watching the monk flinch.

Not a second passed before Sanzo had his gun shoved in Gojyo's face. "I'll kill you right now."

But Gojyo just smirked, "I know," even over the cocking sound of the hammer, because as sure as Goku would flip his monkey ass over anything edible Sanzo wasn't going to put a bullet in his head right now, anyway. But then Sanzo shoved the gun harder, driving it into the two streaks of scars on Gojyo's cheek until he could feel the barrel digging and grinding into his jaw bone.

"You fucking crazy?!" Gojyo fumed, fist knocking the gun off his face. A dull, heavy ache throbbed in his cheek, nothing that stung more than any sock to the face he'd ever taken, though it annoyed him just the same. "You think you, that you're hot shit with that gun -- but you're not. Fucking pussy."

Sanzo ground his teeth at that, but when it looked like he would lunge and stuff his gun again in Gojyo's face, he turned to the lamp at that instant and, reaching across Gojyo, put the light out with a furious tug at its chain. Then he shoved his gun on the nightstand and started to settle himself in the bed. "Go back to your fucking room," he snarled.

"Like fuck I will." In one swing of the leg Gojyo was right on top of Sanzo, his seated weight pinning him down on the mattress. Crotch to crotch now, he rocked and swayed, rubbed himself hard against Sanzo. If only at that moment, while Sanzo couldn't choke back a soft, tiny moan even as he made to twist himself out from under him, Gojyo felt less inclined to smack the bastard's pretty face than do something about the surge of heat down his groin. But that moment was just that -- a moment -- because Sanzo was suddenly coming at him with elbows and kicks, and before he could tell how he'd ended up with his nose scrunched down into the covers, Gojyo found himself tumbling down to the floor. Sanzo, though, was falling with him, apparently unable to wrench the firm leg around his waist.

"Get the fuck off me, you shitwit!"

"Hell naw!" Gojyo laughed -- instinctively, at the perfect irritation in Sanzo's voice, but mostly at the vicious tangle of arms and legs they'd wound up in. "Stop squirming, will ya, I can't find your dick!" while his hands slid and squeezed their way through slick flesh. Sanzo wouldn't keep still to make it easier for him but that just added to the fun, anyway.

And then Gojyo wouldn't stop laughing, couldn't stop laughing, and was still laughing even when he felt Sanzo coil his fingers around the long strands of his hair and begin to pull on them -- until he slackened his hold on Sanzo, "'Kay, okay, I'm letting go now," and the monk wouldn't give a damn.

Thing was, his hair had been pulled before; been yanked, twisted, hurt down to the skull -- but now Sanzo wouldn't stop pulling his hair and Gojyo wasn't a timid little kid or didn't feel damned anymore that, for once, he wouldn't just grin and bear it. Sanzo's knee was less than an inch before his face, so in that flash of rage, or whatever it was exactly, Gojyo took that pale knee in his mouth and bit hard.

Sanzo's knee jerked and jumped between Gojyo's teeth, but whether or not this hinted he could take any more pain, Gojyo felt the pull on his hair become even tighter. So he bit harder, dragging his stabbed teeth over the thin flesh around the bone -- which did it, apparently. Sanzo's gripped hands slid off Gojyo's hair to shove him back and away.

It'd only been the pettiest of scrimmages, but when Gojyo sat himself up against a leg of the nightstand, panting, his only thought was to catch his breath. He shoved his hand through his hair, brushing his nails over his scalp and pushing some of the strands up from his face.

Just before him Sanzo sat against the side of the bed and hissed. When he hissed again, and then muttered, "Fuck," Gojyo figured he'd better just reach for the lamp chain already rather than keep guessing what the hell was up with the pissed monk.

As soon as the light revealed everything, he gave a gasp. "Holy shit." Out of impulse, or probably something like guilt, Gojyo swept a hand against his mouth, across his teeth. They left nothing but a clear trail of saliva on his skin, not one drop of that red shit gushing from out of Sanzo's left knee. "D-Did I do that??" He didn't know if he should crack up or cringe, or how he could tear someone's flesh when he'd never really intended to.

"You and your goddamn youkai fangs," Sanzo growled.

Gojyo started with a miffed "I don't have --!" but then he wasn't sure how solid his claim would be, anyway, when there was all that blood on Sanzo's knee to prove it otherwise. Still, "Quit your bitching, prick," he huffed. "You had it coming. And geezuz, cover that shit up or something, you're gonna bleed all over the goddamn inn and wake everybody." So Sanzo snatched the first thing he could find among their strewn clothes. "Hey not my bandanna!" Gojyo lurched, but he wasn't quick enough to snatch it back from Sanzo.

"You quit bitching, asshole." In time to stop the blood making any uglier mess, Sanzo bound up his knee, pulling and snapping tightly, with the long brown strip of cloth. "You can bite yourself if you're sorry."

"I never said I was sorry!"

"Fool, it's all over your face."

Gojyo snorted. "Don't fuck with me. I'd bite you again if I had to." Which was the complete truth, except, watching his bandanna get soaked a deep dark crimson, he couldn't say for sure if he meant it. Then again, Sanzo was chasing him away from actually apologizing, and this gave him little trouble to disregard any sorry thoughts -- if he'd had them at all to begin with.

"Staring at my knee won't heal it."

"Ah shuddup," but Gojyo was simpering to himself all the same. He propped an elbow onto the bed and grabbed his pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. His lighter, though, was nowhere to be found; this left him grumbling for a minute until he thought of groping for it under the bed.

By the time he'd lit a stick, Sanzo was lighting up his own smoke. Gojyo waited until Sanzo had slumped himself against the side of the bed and they took their first drag at the same instant. Sanzo shot him a cutting look, which only served to amuse him all the more -- although he did feel a little less amused when Sanzo drew his wounded knee to himself and a wince flickered across his frown.

Before the silence between them could settle into something uncomfortable, Gojyo feigned a brief cough -- at the same time that Sanzo opened his mouth other than to exhale smoke. "I can't remember a longer night," he grunted, after a quick, annoyed swipe across his brow. Until that point, Gojyo had hardly caught on how a hundred times more wet the monk looked after their little scuffle. It made him think of just one thing. "Know what'd be good right now?"

Gojyo obliged, "Some sex in the butt?" since getting Sanzo on his back was the only attractive thought to him at the moment.

"No. Some beer."

"Mmm, yeah. That'd be good, too."

"They should have it in the kitchen."

"Nice."

"So get down there and bring me two cans. Asahi."

"Fuck you," Gojyo smirked. "The only drink you're having's what you're gonna suck from me." He pulled his legs apart to a wide sprawl, all but poking his stiff cock in Sanzo's direction.

Sanzo's lip curled up in apparent distaste. "Your filthy dick's never touching my mouth."

"Aw. Trust me, monk, there's nothing you can stuff in there that'd make it dirtier."

"Hn. I never said it was clean." Sanzo leaned his back away from the bed, but when Gojyo thought he'd intended to get on his feet, he laid himself down and continued to smoke his cigarette right on the floor, an arm tossed over his blond hair, limbs flexed about at random angles. His neck arched up from the stone tile every few seconds he swallowed or dragged.

"Floor's dirty, though," Gojyo pointed out, half-heartedly, and for no reason that mattered to him.

"Floor's fucking cold."

"What," Gojyo smirked, "now you want me to spoon there with you?"

"Idiot. We're hardly in love."

"Ch'. 'Course not. We're not me and Hakkai." Gojyo didn't take that moment to ponder what the hell he was doing, then, in Sanzo's room, since he never would come up with anything right every time, anyway...or anything other than a three-way fantasy with those two.

Sanzo gave a look that Gojyo only half-caught, as he'd stuck an arm out at that precise moment to grab for the little mangled tube of gel beneath the pillow, but there was no question what he ought to make of it when Sanzo then shifted himself onto his left side, his head on an outstretched arm, his back all to Gojyo.

If Gojyo had meant to ask Sanzo first if he was all right, the thought flitted away the same instant. He did manage to fumble with the slippery tube for a second or two but was quick to flip open its cap. Tucking his cigarette between his lips, he began to slather his cock with what little gel there was left to squeeze out.

"You're starting to bore me."

"I'm on it, sheesh," Gojyo muttered around his cigarette. He wasn't even taking his time or anything. "Horny monk." Nonetheless his own lust had prompted him to get a move on, and within seconds he was laying himself sideways right behind Sanzo, lifting and pushing Sanzo's leg up to his chest so he could slip two, three of his slickened fingers into that hot, very tight, and still-wet space in Sanzo's ass.

"Shhit." Sanzo didn't bring his cigarette back to his lips in that span of seconds he did nothing but moan. He pushed himself down against Gojyo's fingers, insistent, still wouldn't stop moaning, that Gojyo was soon dissatisfied with just rubbing his cock against the small of Sanzo's back. He slid his erection into Sanzo no more than a second later that he drew his fingers out of him. And when Sanzo moaned again, Gojyo was moaning with him.

Puffing hard on his cigarette, Gojyo thrust up into Sanzo, slid his own leg up to mold against Sanzo's thigh. Sanzo pressed his back against Gojyo, crushed himself into him, and wouldn't lie still with each push of Gojyo inside of him. Gojyo's motions were slow, steady at first, but the moment he could feel the heat rising and smothering every inch of him, and as Sanzo writhed and twisted moving with him, the only way Gojyo knew to keep up was to grind his cock harder and bury himself deeper in Sanzo's squeezing, tightening hole.

Gojyo tore off his cigarette but held it between shivering fingers. Blowing out the last drag he took, he pressed his parted lips down on the side of Sanzo's throat. He inched his way up to Sanzo's cheek, stuffing that pale neck with moist, lingering kisses. Sanzo took his own cigarette out his mouth and then turned to him, sharply, parting his own lips against Gojyo's, and he moaned into Gojyo's mouth just before he kissed him and Gojyo kissed him back.

Gojyo drove as deep as he could into Sanzo, kissed him as deep as he could, too. Everything of Sanzo was burning, his mouth, his back, his ass most of all -- hell, they always were, yet the thing was Gojyo couldn't remember it being anything like this before. It was always like a different heat every time -- still like fire, but something new and more furious and felt a million times better than it had the last time they'd fucked.

Sanzo pulled his mouth away from Gojyo's but not before gnawing on his bottom lip. When Gojyo tried to dive in for another kiss, Sanzo seized Gojyo's free hand and slipped it under between his legs. Dragging his tongue down Sanzo's jaw, Gojyo curled his fingers around Sanzo's slick, hard cock, knuckles rubbing against his lean belly. He slid his hand along Sanzo's erection, fast, hard, hard, fast, the same way he thrust and ground his hips against him, unrelenting, bringing their rocking to an almost fury and drawing harsh, ragged sounds out of them both.

In all that heat and all that pleasurable ache Gojyo felt the trembling, unfamiliar touch of Sanzo's hand on his arm. It all but made him hate this to come to an end and want to fuck Sanzo until he couldn't walk. And Sanzo held Gojyo even as he came, his spill of wet heat running down Gojyo's forearm by the time Gojyo himself came a few moments after.

Then, neither of them stirred nor made a sound, could do nothing but breathe rapidly in and out like they'd worn out all strength that they'd had. Gojyo could feel his own breath coming out hot and shallow against Sanzo's hair.

"Damn. It's out." Sanzo held up the dying end of his cigarette.

Gojyo raised his own stunted cigarette and stubbed it out against Sanzo's. "Can't say it was wasted, though," he smirked.

While the stickiness between them was growing less pleasant by the second, Gojyo figured that if Sanzo wouldn't bother enough to push him away yet, there was no reason for him to pull his cock out or take his hand away from Sanzo's crotch. So he snuggled his face into the side of Sanzo's neck and nudged his nose into his shoulder.

Apparently that was all it took for the monk to be a prick again. "Don't push it," he barked, although he wouldn't give Gojyo anything more than a weak shove.

Not planning to cuddle, anyway, Gojyo rolled away from Sanzo and splayed his spent limbs out on the cold, dirty floor. Suddenly his eyelids weighed like a full ton. "Think I'm gonna go sleep," he declared. Vaguely he thought he heard Sanzo say something to him, some cute shit like, "Sweet dreams," -- or not -- before he smiled to himself, probably, and fell to sleep.

...

When he woke up, Sanzo was sitting on the bed, poking at his bandaged knee like he was getting it to talk or something. This made Gojyo laugh -- out loud, before he could hold back his amusement.

Sanzo glowered down at him. "Don't you have anything better to do than wake up?" He grabbed for the lamp chain in a huff, the immediate dimness giving Gojyo the first sign that it wasn't, still, quite morning yet.

After a while, he did get around to curbing his laughter and pressed a fist down his throat. And then it occurred to him, the dream he just had, and somehow he couldn't help but blabber out his thoughts. "It's weird, y'know. I get the same dream over and -- tonight makes it three in a row. So in that dream I'm having sex and, and there's cherry blossoms all around me. It's always like that. I'm not whining or shit, though. The sex is insane for starters, heck. It's just... It's gotta say something, yeah? I mean, cherry blossoms? -- where'd that come from. And the person I'm fucking isn't you. Not even a chick..."

The sheets made a slight rustling sound in the momentary silence.

"Sanzo?"

"...What."

"You sleeping now?"

"Get in this bed and I'll kill you."

"Okay." Gojyo couldn't repress a smirk; he didn't think Sanzo wouldn't tell him to get the fuck out of his room instead.

In the dark, on the floor, Gojyo passed his hand over his face. He could still smell Sanzo on his fingers. Then he shut his eyes again for sleep, grinning wide, as if he was actually happy.

END

So, I don't really know about Gojyo's "youkai fangs." Made that part up. ^^;