Fic: A Place Like This
Title: A Place Like This
Author: fairymage
Rating: PG-15 (GODS, Hakkai, did you NEED to do that to raise the rating?)
Community: 30_romances
Theme: #31-The Library; Bookshop
Fandom: Saiyuki
Pairing: Hakkai/Sanzo
Notes: Eh heh heh. Not quite the smut bondage some of you were waiting for.
He didn’t like going with Hakkai to market. It was too domestic, too friendly. It was all right for Goku and Gojyo to go-it was like a mother supervising her two easily distracted children. But no, he would rather stay in the hotel room reading the paper and smoking, or sit in the front seat of the jeep, eyes closed but sense alert, scowling blindly at passersby.
Usually he didn’t have to wait long; perhaps he’d get through one spread of the paper, three stories, or a brief doze in the jeep, before they loudly returned, ruining his peace and quiet. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure what he used the marketing time for. Of course, it was more quiet without Gojyo and Goku fighting, and he didn’t mind the solitude, but it wasn’t like he wanted them to leave so he could be alone.
Today was different, though. He was reaching for the can of beer on the other side of the paper when the door opened, and, somewhat expectedly, the can was not where it should have been when his fingers closed. Hakkai, however, was not the one who had removed the can.
Sanzo glared at Gojyo over the top edge of the paper, willing him to put the damn can back. But Gojyo just ignored him, and Goku started bickering, and Sanzo thought his brain would explode from the sudden intrusion of noise and irritation and that fact that Gojyo, not Hakkai, had filched his beer.
“Where the fuck is Hakkai?” he yelled, scowling, gun out for emphasis.
Gojyo and Goku stopped dead, gripping each other’s wrists mid-push. They were surprised that he didn’t tell them to shut up first, but then, maybe he’d realized that if the gun was involved, shutting up was imperative for the two hoodlums.
“He’s still out,” Gojyo offered.
“Why?” Sanzo demanded snippily.
“He wanted to stop by a bookstore he saw.”
Sanzo’s eyes narrowed, but he lowered his gun, violently shuffled his newspaper together, and stormed out.
“Don’t break anything, don’t burn anything, and don’t get in any trouble.” It was like asking the world to stop turning, but his gun was involved.
“Yes, Mommy-” Gojyo sneered at Sanzo’s retreating back. He was answered with a slamming door, which prevented Sanzo from hearing the rest of Gojyo’s comment. “-since Hakkai’s the one wearing the pants.”
-----
It didn’t take him long to find the bookstore on a quaint, quiet sidestreet. It seemed like the kind of place Hakkai would like and go looking for. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so irate, why he insisted on looking for the other man, but he told himself it had something to do with the fact that Hakkai had tried to leave him alone with Gojyo and Goku.
He pushed the door open and was greeted by the light tinkling of a bell. He sniffed, somewhat comforted by the smell of old books. It reminded him of when he was much younger, a time that he thought probably should make him angry and sad but instead just made him feel at peace. Part of him wanted to wander the stacks, but he was still mostly concerned with finding Hakkai.
He was sitting next to a side window in an easy chair, feet propped delicately on a small table before him, a cup of tea and toast beside them. He was wearing a full pair of glasses, book held open between his long, graceful fingers. Sunlight slanted in over his face and hair and upper body.
This was the kind of place Hakkai belonged. Someplace quiet, peaceful, slow. His mind and body were capable of handling the rigors of their journey, and he knew that whatever happened to them, he had to see this mission through. But this… as Sanzo watched from behind a bookcase, he knew that this was the kind of place Hakkai needed to return to. Underneath it all, Hakkai was still an intellectual, one of the smartest men he’d ever met, though he rarely showed it.
Scowling, Sanzo silently demanded of the gods that a mind like that not be wasted somewhere in fucking India.
“Sanzo?”
Damn. He knew. He always knew.
He stepped out from behind the bookcase like a child who’d been bad, sidling up to Hakkai’s chair. Hakkai never looked up, even turning a page with his beautiful fingers. Sanzo couldn’t help but stare at the way Hakkai held the corner of the pale, thin page, toying with it, but never in danger of tearing it, the way they slid up and down the page as he read, the way they lovingly turned them.
“What’s wrong, Sanzo?” Hakkai asked, distractedly. To Sanzo, this must have been what Hakkai the schoolteacher sounded like. It was gentle, with a chiding edge, not too patronizing, but enough to make Sanzo feel like a child guiltily interrupting a parent’s quiet time.
“You left me with those idiots,” he answered petulantly. He scowled at the way he sounded. “What was I supposed to do? You’re the only one that can control them.” It was the explanation that made the most sense, he told himself.
Idly Hakkai turned a page, eyes intent on the words. Sanzo had no doubt that Hakkai was actually reading. “I’m sure you would have thought of something. You’re a smart man.”
Sanzo had nothing to say, and so he remained silent. His eyes wandered, and he went back to looking at Hakkai. When Hakkai showed no sign of caring, he sighed heavily and pulled up a conveniently located stool. Propping his head in his hand, resting his elbow on his knee, he proceeded to settle down to watch Hakkai read.
After a few minutes Hakkai looked up over the rims of his glasses. “Yes, Sanzo?”
“I’m not going back into that madhouse unless you’re with me.” Again, the explanation that sounded best. Because “I like watching you while you read, it makes me feel easy and peaceful and you look damn good doing it” wasn’t a very good second choice.
Hakkai frowned; it was the closest Sanzo had ever seen him to unhappy. “The owner of the store has given me leave to sit here and read all day, or at least until the light runs out, and I intend to take advantage of that offer. I haven’t been to a proper library in months, Sanzo, nor do I anticipate seeing my own collection for many months more, if ever again. My mind is tired, and it craves this distraction.”
A fairly definite answer. In all honestly, Sanzo hadn’t expected much more. Nor did he want anything different. This was Hakkai, and this was what Hakkai wanted. As good, and as strong, a fighter as Hakkai was, the battlefied-this dirty, dusty road full of fear and demons and death-wasn’t where he belonged. No matter what his past, the invisible stains on his hands, he should be able to sit like this and read every day. His fingers, so skilled with calling upon his chi and breaking youkai, were meant for literature and art. His mind, so cool and calm and tactical in the heat of battle, was better suited for discussion and puzzles.
For a day, Sanzo wanted to let him have that.
“Che,” he muttered, but it was more out of habit than irritation. He stood, gathering his robes around him, and made to go, but Hakkai’s slim hand reached out to grasp his wrist.
“But…” he murmured, uncrossing his ankles and lowering his feet, sitting up, leaning forward ever so slightly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight, when I get back. Don’t bother saving dinner for me.” Sanzo was having problems keeping track of Hakkai’s directions-long, soft fingers were sliding beneath the wide sleeves and stroking his bare arms lightly. “Just make sure that you’re ready. And by ready-“ he pulled Sanzo by his arm, very close, breath tickling and stirring the hairs hanging over his ear “-I mean I want you naked, hard, and prepared.”
Abruptly his arm was loose and he was being gently shoved away. By the time he’d regained himself, Hakkai was once again immersed in his book, face calm and innocent, as if he hadn’t just ordered Sanzo around like his whore and intentionally aroused him.
As he left the store, bell tinkling in farewell, he wasn’t sure which of the many sides of Hakkai he preferred. He thought about it the entire way back to the inn, and as he neared the door to one of their rooms, gun already raised in threat, he supposed it didn’t really matter-he’d satisfy at least two of them today.
Author: fairymage
Rating: PG-15 (GODS, Hakkai, did you NEED to do that to raise the rating?)
Community: 30_romances
Theme: #31-The Library; Bookshop
Fandom: Saiyuki
Pairing: Hakkai/Sanzo
Notes: Eh heh heh. Not quite the smut bondage some of you were waiting for.
He didn’t like going with Hakkai to market. It was too domestic, too friendly. It was all right for Goku and Gojyo to go-it was like a mother supervising her two easily distracted children. But no, he would rather stay in the hotel room reading the paper and smoking, or sit in the front seat of the jeep, eyes closed but sense alert, scowling blindly at passersby.
Usually he didn’t have to wait long; perhaps he’d get through one spread of the paper, three stories, or a brief doze in the jeep, before they loudly returned, ruining his peace and quiet. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure what he used the marketing time for. Of course, it was more quiet without Gojyo and Goku fighting, and he didn’t mind the solitude, but it wasn’t like he wanted them to leave so he could be alone.
Today was different, though. He was reaching for the can of beer on the other side of the paper when the door opened, and, somewhat expectedly, the can was not where it should have been when his fingers closed. Hakkai, however, was not the one who had removed the can.
Sanzo glared at Gojyo over the top edge of the paper, willing him to put the damn can back. But Gojyo just ignored him, and Goku started bickering, and Sanzo thought his brain would explode from the sudden intrusion of noise and irritation and that fact that Gojyo, not Hakkai, had filched his beer.
“Where the fuck is Hakkai?” he yelled, scowling, gun out for emphasis.
Gojyo and Goku stopped dead, gripping each other’s wrists mid-push. They were surprised that he didn’t tell them to shut up first, but then, maybe he’d realized that if the gun was involved, shutting up was imperative for the two hoodlums.
“He’s still out,” Gojyo offered.
“Why?” Sanzo demanded snippily.
“He wanted to stop by a bookstore he saw.”
Sanzo’s eyes narrowed, but he lowered his gun, violently shuffled his newspaper together, and stormed out.
“Don’t break anything, don’t burn anything, and don’t get in any trouble.” It was like asking the world to stop turning, but his gun was involved.
“Yes, Mommy-” Gojyo sneered at Sanzo’s retreating back. He was answered with a slamming door, which prevented Sanzo from hearing the rest of Gojyo’s comment. “-since Hakkai’s the one wearing the pants.”
-----
It didn’t take him long to find the bookstore on a quaint, quiet sidestreet. It seemed like the kind of place Hakkai would like and go looking for. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so irate, why he insisted on looking for the other man, but he told himself it had something to do with the fact that Hakkai had tried to leave him alone with Gojyo and Goku.
He pushed the door open and was greeted by the light tinkling of a bell. He sniffed, somewhat comforted by the smell of old books. It reminded him of when he was much younger, a time that he thought probably should make him angry and sad but instead just made him feel at peace. Part of him wanted to wander the stacks, but he was still mostly concerned with finding Hakkai.
He was sitting next to a side window in an easy chair, feet propped delicately on a small table before him, a cup of tea and toast beside them. He was wearing a full pair of glasses, book held open between his long, graceful fingers. Sunlight slanted in over his face and hair and upper body.
This was the kind of place Hakkai belonged. Someplace quiet, peaceful, slow. His mind and body were capable of handling the rigors of their journey, and he knew that whatever happened to them, he had to see this mission through. But this… as Sanzo watched from behind a bookcase, he knew that this was the kind of place Hakkai needed to return to. Underneath it all, Hakkai was still an intellectual, one of the smartest men he’d ever met, though he rarely showed it.
Scowling, Sanzo silently demanded of the gods that a mind like that not be wasted somewhere in fucking India.
“Sanzo?”
Damn. He knew. He always knew.
He stepped out from behind the bookcase like a child who’d been bad, sidling up to Hakkai’s chair. Hakkai never looked up, even turning a page with his beautiful fingers. Sanzo couldn’t help but stare at the way Hakkai held the corner of the pale, thin page, toying with it, but never in danger of tearing it, the way they slid up and down the page as he read, the way they lovingly turned them.
“What’s wrong, Sanzo?” Hakkai asked, distractedly. To Sanzo, this must have been what Hakkai the schoolteacher sounded like. It was gentle, with a chiding edge, not too patronizing, but enough to make Sanzo feel like a child guiltily interrupting a parent’s quiet time.
“You left me with those idiots,” he answered petulantly. He scowled at the way he sounded. “What was I supposed to do? You’re the only one that can control them.” It was the explanation that made the most sense, he told himself.
Idly Hakkai turned a page, eyes intent on the words. Sanzo had no doubt that Hakkai was actually reading. “I’m sure you would have thought of something. You’re a smart man.”
Sanzo had nothing to say, and so he remained silent. His eyes wandered, and he went back to looking at Hakkai. When Hakkai showed no sign of caring, he sighed heavily and pulled up a conveniently located stool. Propping his head in his hand, resting his elbow on his knee, he proceeded to settle down to watch Hakkai read.
After a few minutes Hakkai looked up over the rims of his glasses. “Yes, Sanzo?”
“I’m not going back into that madhouse unless you’re with me.” Again, the explanation that sounded best. Because “I like watching you while you read, it makes me feel easy and peaceful and you look damn good doing it” wasn’t a very good second choice.
Hakkai frowned; it was the closest Sanzo had ever seen him to unhappy. “The owner of the store has given me leave to sit here and read all day, or at least until the light runs out, and I intend to take advantage of that offer. I haven’t been to a proper library in months, Sanzo, nor do I anticipate seeing my own collection for many months more, if ever again. My mind is tired, and it craves this distraction.”
A fairly definite answer. In all honestly, Sanzo hadn’t expected much more. Nor did he want anything different. This was Hakkai, and this was what Hakkai wanted. As good, and as strong, a fighter as Hakkai was, the battlefied-this dirty, dusty road full of fear and demons and death-wasn’t where he belonged. No matter what his past, the invisible stains on his hands, he should be able to sit like this and read every day. His fingers, so skilled with calling upon his chi and breaking youkai, were meant for literature and art. His mind, so cool and calm and tactical in the heat of battle, was better suited for discussion and puzzles.
For a day, Sanzo wanted to let him have that.
“Che,” he muttered, but it was more out of habit than irritation. He stood, gathering his robes around him, and made to go, but Hakkai’s slim hand reached out to grasp his wrist.
“But…” he murmured, uncrossing his ankles and lowering his feet, sitting up, leaning forward ever so slightly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight, when I get back. Don’t bother saving dinner for me.” Sanzo was having problems keeping track of Hakkai’s directions-long, soft fingers were sliding beneath the wide sleeves and stroking his bare arms lightly. “Just make sure that you’re ready. And by ready-“ he pulled Sanzo by his arm, very close, breath tickling and stirring the hairs hanging over his ear “-I mean I want you naked, hard, and prepared.”
Abruptly his arm was loose and he was being gently shoved away. By the time he’d regained himself, Hakkai was once again immersed in his book, face calm and innocent, as if he hadn’t just ordered Sanzo around like his whore and intentionally aroused him.
As he left the store, bell tinkling in farewell, he wasn’t sure which of the many sides of Hakkai he preferred. He thought about it the entire way back to the inn, and as he neared the door to one of their rooms, gun already raised in threat, he supposed it didn’t really matter-he’d satisfy at least two of them today.