Saiyuki Fic: Tangles
So, this is what's been holding up the next chapter of Jess. Trust you all won't mind terribly...
Sequel to Damage Control
Not Worksafe: Rabid Youkai Sexx0rs
Spoilers! for Even A Worm 18
Many thanks to new_kate and angstymcgoth for betaing!
Exhaustion sets in quickly. Travel is difficult on foot, and all the sex can really take it out of a guy, too. Not that sex is as tiring as hauling ass after Sanzo, sneaking up on ambush parties, massacring pursuers and generally doing all the dirty work without even a hot meal and soft inn bed to look forward to. But it's too easy to get angry about that stuff, now. Easy and pointless. Sex is really the way to go, Gojyo thinks. Better than being pissed at Sanzo, or at Kougaiji, or the gods or whoever's behind this whole fucking ordeal. Better than letting Hakkai fret over the priest's unwashed laundry when they're sleeping in the dirt. Better than chasing down little human girls who go berrying in the woods and tearing their tender throats out.
Even in their darkest moments, when he and Hakkai are snapping at each other over some petty thing, like the heat or the rate their water is disappearing, they haven’t exchanged real blows. Instead, grappling becomes rolling around on the ground, winner fucks loser or, Gojyo insists, winner fucks winner. Hakkai, with his mastery of hand-to-hand fighting, can take Gojyo easily, and does, often. His claws make it impossible for him to prep Gojyo as thoroughly as he’d used to; luckily, Gojyo's discovered a taste for it hard and rough. But sometimes Hakkai is all snapping teeth and tense hesitation, and arches languidly under Gojyo as soon as they hit the ground. Gojyo likes to take his time with that pliant, inviting Hakkai, get him gasping and writhing on his fingers, bucking on his cock. One particularly memorable time, he’d rode Gojyo ‘till Gojyo lost it, then rolled him over and fucked his ass ‘till he came again.
So, sex is useful, even when they're tired, injured and dragging themselves another mile from the last village. It's gotten to be a conditioned response, almost. Smell a human, haul Hakkai into the nearest bush and fumble his cock out of his tight jeans. He was never careful enough, and the jeans have lost their button. His own leather pants have a broken zipper now, but it hardly matters since there's no one to see but Hakkai, and he suspects that Hakkai likes it, the pervert.
One evening, as the forest shade deepens into blue, something wakes him from a light doze. They are curled together by their conspicuous lack of a fire, and Gojyo is hard almost before he identifies the approaching scent as human: Sanzo rather than Goku bringing them their week's supplies. One moment, Hakkai is tense beside him, claws sunk deep into the leaf mold, the next he is on his feet, the next Gojyo has him pinned to a tree, hard cock pressed tight against his ass.
“Thank you, Gojyo,” Hakkai murmurs, rubbing back against him. He fists both hands in Hakkai's ragged tunic and wonders just what the reckless priest is playing at.
“What are you doing here, Monk,” Gojyo says. Even to him, his voice sounds odd, pinched flat.
To the east of them, near the stagnant little stream, footsteps stop. There is a muffled thump, as of something heavy being dropped, then the crinkle of cellophane, the snick of a lighter, the harsh edge of tobacco smoke. Jiip sails over them, almost silently. He circles twice, observing, then arrows off without getting close.
“Bringing you your cheapass cigarettes,” Sanzo says, finally.
His voice sounds even deeper than Gojyo remembered, shivers in his guts like gravel in a tin can. He thinks of Sanzo's wire-thin back, his cock in its nest of blond curls, the way his pale lips pull into a sneer. Hakkai arches as Gojyo grinds against his ass, claws chipping flakes of bark from the tree.
“This is rather reckless, Sanzo,” Hakkai says, tone tightly controlled.
“If I have to kill you, I will.”
“Ah.”
Hakkai relaxes, muscles melting into Gojyo's body-heat. He pries Gojyo's hand from his shoulder, wraps it around his cock, which twitches a welcome in Gojyo's fist. He wonders, momentarily, whether this is how Kougaiji's crew stays sane, and whether Jien is banging that tightassed prince or the busty alchemist. His brain supplies him with several images he probably shouldn't be thinking about his own brother, and he drops his nose into the soft hair at the back of Hakkai's neck, tries to drown out thought in the musky, green scent of his sweat.
“Please,” Hakkai whispers, thrusting into his hand as Gojyo licks little circles around his vertebrae.
He fumbles the slick from Hakkai's front pocket, and Sanzo says something Gojyo doesn't catch. Shit, he'd forgotten the stinking priest was there. But Hakkai is so solid against him, his ass hard under his palms and so, so hot around the finger he slides inside. Hakkai moans, loudly, and this time Sanzo definitely says, “You perverts-” something, and fuck, the smell of Sanzo's flesh, the growl in his voice and the way that long, thin cock would slide into him, a rough thrust pressing him forward into Hakkai's heat.
“Fucking. Monk.” Gojyo growls, half-furious, dick aching. “Drive off and fucking leave us already.”
Hakkai is working his hips back onto Gojyo's finger, rumbling low in his throat, pushing his jeans down and wiggling out of them. Gojyo pushes a second finger inside and Hakkai makes a desperate noise, elbows Gojyo back enough to turn around then hauls him back by the hair, bruising his mouth with a kiss, wrapping a leg around Gojyo, pulling him off balance. Gojyo scrapes his forearm against the treebark, catching himself, slick hand fumbling with his pants button, smearing lube across his stomach. And then he's got his feet back under him, his hands under Hakkai's ass to lift him up and spread him open. And then Hakkai's gasping, “Gojyo, Gojyo,” as he tightens and relaxes around the head of Gojyo's cock, letting him in just a little at a time and Gojyo has to fight the urge to slam up into him, to bury himself all the way in Hakkai's tightness right fucking now.
“Damn dragon won't go any faster,” Sanzo says, as if he's been waiting for the chance to answer.
Hakkai goes very still, his only motion the heave of his chest, the fluttering of his muscles around Gojyo's cock.
“Sanzo,” he says, and “Ah!” as Gojyo slides the last inch inside of him.
Sanzo snorts, and there is the crunch of leaves retreating, the snick of the lighter and a faint, fresh edge of tobacco. Gojyo can't catch his breath, can't think straight with Hakkai heavy and clinging to him, legs tight against his sides, hot skin against him and so deep in him, still with him, still there. Gojyo pulls back, pushes in just a little. Hakkai hisses, digs all ten talons deep into the tree, and starts fucking himself on Gojyo's cock.
“Your hands will be a mess tomorrow,” Gojyo says against his neck, pressing him harder into the tree, hitching his legs higher, into the crooks of his elbows. His hips are snapping upward helplessly, raggedly, and he can't stop.
“You're right,” Hakkai breathes, and suddenly his vines are writhing from his body, supporting his hands, winding around Gojyo's hips, over his ass, down his thighs. One slithers ticklishly up his crack, the tiny leaves scraping like the light touch of fingernails and Gojyo shudders all over.
“Shit, do you think that's a good idea?”
In answer, the vines pull him sharply forward as Hakkai presses down, filling himself. Hakkai moans as the vines cant Gojyo's hips, forcing him to bend his knees, raising him up on the balls of his feet. He clutches Hakkai's biceps for support, fingers digging into muscle. Tensed, the vines feel like a serrated knife laid across his skin, unyielding leaf-tips pricking slightly. Gojyo imagines his ass will be covered in thin red scratches tomorrow. When they relax they feel silken, almost insubstantial, allowing him to pull back then tightening to thrust him sharply upward again, into the molten heat of Hakkai's body. He grunts, and Hakkai makes a choked noise, canines flashing. The markings around his neck and shoulder shift across the skin in time with their slow fucking. One vine slides up the side of Gojyo's throat, across his scars, just touches the corner of his mouth. He licks it, tenderly, opens his eyes to find Hakkai watching him. His slit pupil is dilated so wide it looks round, and Gojyo's orgasm is crowding closer with every thrust, tearing up his spine as Hakkai holds them tight together, so tight all around him.
“Hey,” Gojyo says, still breathless. His legs are starting to shake with the effort of staying upright, but they are still bound together, his cock softening inside Hakkai, the vines a gentle caress until he tries to pull away. “Hey. Can we sit?”
Hakkai apparently can't say anything, just growls something that may or may not be his name. There is a dizzy, half-controlled fall, and Hakkai is heavy on top of him, the vines stroking lazily across his chest, slithering down his ribs to trail along the ground. They have no thickness, only ticklish sensation, like a breath of air. Hakkai's hands are a mess, when he finally lets his markings coil back onto his skin, and Gojyo scrapes the bark from under his talons, chafes off the dirt, traces the turn of twitching leaves around each finger with the tip of his tongue. He thinks about getting them up, but Hakkai's body is limp, the lids of his eyes purpled with fatigue.
“Hakkai,” he says against the long taper of his ear.
“Nnh,” Hakkai replies, faintly.
“Can't sleep until you talk to me.”
Gojyo worries Hakkai's narrow earlobe with his teeth, lets his head flop back against the ground. Night insects whirr from the brush. There is something digging into the small of his back.
“Good of Sanzo,” Hakkai manages, finally, “to come check on us.” His voice is halting but otherwise normal, politeness and buried sarcasm clearly intact. Gojyo feels his shoulders relax, his forehead unknit. He lets out a long breath.
“Shitty monk should've known better.”
“He worries.”
Gojyo lets out a snort of unexpected laughter, feels Hakkai shake slightly with suppressed mirth. He watches his rough fingers move through Hakkai's shaggy hair.
“Are you okay like that?” Hakkai asks, halfheartedly starting to rise. Gojyo stops him with a hand heavy on his back. In a moment he'll get up, get them clean, and Hakkai's pants pulled up. He'll find the packs, dig out their blankets and put the food up a tree, away from animals. But for now-
“Yeah,” Gojyo says, “Fine.”
Sequel to Damage Control
Not Worksafe: Rabid Youkai Sexx0rs
Spoilers! for Even A Worm 18
Many thanks to new_kate and angstymcgoth for betaing!
Exhaustion sets in quickly. Travel is difficult on foot, and all the sex can really take it out of a guy, too. Not that sex is as tiring as hauling ass after Sanzo, sneaking up on ambush parties, massacring pursuers and generally doing all the dirty work without even a hot meal and soft inn bed to look forward to. But it's too easy to get angry about that stuff, now. Easy and pointless. Sex is really the way to go, Gojyo thinks. Better than being pissed at Sanzo, or at Kougaiji, or the gods or whoever's behind this whole fucking ordeal. Better than letting Hakkai fret over the priest's unwashed laundry when they're sleeping in the dirt. Better than chasing down little human girls who go berrying in the woods and tearing their tender throats out.
Even in their darkest moments, when he and Hakkai are snapping at each other over some petty thing, like the heat or the rate their water is disappearing, they haven’t exchanged real blows. Instead, grappling becomes rolling around on the ground, winner fucks loser or, Gojyo insists, winner fucks winner. Hakkai, with his mastery of hand-to-hand fighting, can take Gojyo easily, and does, often. His claws make it impossible for him to prep Gojyo as thoroughly as he’d used to; luckily, Gojyo's discovered a taste for it hard and rough. But sometimes Hakkai is all snapping teeth and tense hesitation, and arches languidly under Gojyo as soon as they hit the ground. Gojyo likes to take his time with that pliant, inviting Hakkai, get him gasping and writhing on his fingers, bucking on his cock. One particularly memorable time, he’d rode Gojyo ‘till Gojyo lost it, then rolled him over and fucked his ass ‘till he came again.
So, sex is useful, even when they're tired, injured and dragging themselves another mile from the last village. It's gotten to be a conditioned response, almost. Smell a human, haul Hakkai into the nearest bush and fumble his cock out of his tight jeans. He was never careful enough, and the jeans have lost their button. His own leather pants have a broken zipper now, but it hardly matters since there's no one to see but Hakkai, and he suspects that Hakkai likes it, the pervert.
One evening, as the forest shade deepens into blue, something wakes him from a light doze. They are curled together by their conspicuous lack of a fire, and Gojyo is hard almost before he identifies the approaching scent as human: Sanzo rather than Goku bringing them their week's supplies. One moment, Hakkai is tense beside him, claws sunk deep into the leaf mold, the next he is on his feet, the next Gojyo has him pinned to a tree, hard cock pressed tight against his ass.
“Thank you, Gojyo,” Hakkai murmurs, rubbing back against him. He fists both hands in Hakkai's ragged tunic and wonders just what the reckless priest is playing at.
“What are you doing here, Monk,” Gojyo says. Even to him, his voice sounds odd, pinched flat.
To the east of them, near the stagnant little stream, footsteps stop. There is a muffled thump, as of something heavy being dropped, then the crinkle of cellophane, the snick of a lighter, the harsh edge of tobacco smoke. Jiip sails over them, almost silently. He circles twice, observing, then arrows off without getting close.
“Bringing you your cheapass cigarettes,” Sanzo says, finally.
His voice sounds even deeper than Gojyo remembered, shivers in his guts like gravel in a tin can. He thinks of Sanzo's wire-thin back, his cock in its nest of blond curls, the way his pale lips pull into a sneer. Hakkai arches as Gojyo grinds against his ass, claws chipping flakes of bark from the tree.
“This is rather reckless, Sanzo,” Hakkai says, tone tightly controlled.
“If I have to kill you, I will.”
“Ah.”
Hakkai relaxes, muscles melting into Gojyo's body-heat. He pries Gojyo's hand from his shoulder, wraps it around his cock, which twitches a welcome in Gojyo's fist. He wonders, momentarily, whether this is how Kougaiji's crew stays sane, and whether Jien is banging that tightassed prince or the busty alchemist. His brain supplies him with several images he probably shouldn't be thinking about his own brother, and he drops his nose into the soft hair at the back of Hakkai's neck, tries to drown out thought in the musky, green scent of his sweat.
“Please,” Hakkai whispers, thrusting into his hand as Gojyo licks little circles around his vertebrae.
He fumbles the slick from Hakkai's front pocket, and Sanzo says something Gojyo doesn't catch. Shit, he'd forgotten the stinking priest was there. But Hakkai is so solid against him, his ass hard under his palms and so, so hot around the finger he slides inside. Hakkai moans, loudly, and this time Sanzo definitely says, “You perverts-” something, and fuck, the smell of Sanzo's flesh, the growl in his voice and the way that long, thin cock would slide into him, a rough thrust pressing him forward into Hakkai's heat.
“Fucking. Monk.” Gojyo growls, half-furious, dick aching. “Drive off and fucking leave us already.”
Hakkai is working his hips back onto Gojyo's finger, rumbling low in his throat, pushing his jeans down and wiggling out of them. Gojyo pushes a second finger inside and Hakkai makes a desperate noise, elbows Gojyo back enough to turn around then hauls him back by the hair, bruising his mouth with a kiss, wrapping a leg around Gojyo, pulling him off balance. Gojyo scrapes his forearm against the treebark, catching himself, slick hand fumbling with his pants button, smearing lube across his stomach. And then he's got his feet back under him, his hands under Hakkai's ass to lift him up and spread him open. And then Hakkai's gasping, “Gojyo, Gojyo,” as he tightens and relaxes around the head of Gojyo's cock, letting him in just a little at a time and Gojyo has to fight the urge to slam up into him, to bury himself all the way in Hakkai's tightness right fucking now.
“Damn dragon won't go any faster,” Sanzo says, as if he's been waiting for the chance to answer.
Hakkai goes very still, his only motion the heave of his chest, the fluttering of his muscles around Gojyo's cock.
“Sanzo,” he says, and “Ah!” as Gojyo slides the last inch inside of him.
Sanzo snorts, and there is the crunch of leaves retreating, the snick of the lighter and a faint, fresh edge of tobacco. Gojyo can't catch his breath, can't think straight with Hakkai heavy and clinging to him, legs tight against his sides, hot skin against him and so deep in him, still with him, still there. Gojyo pulls back, pushes in just a little. Hakkai hisses, digs all ten talons deep into the tree, and starts fucking himself on Gojyo's cock.
“Your hands will be a mess tomorrow,” Gojyo says against his neck, pressing him harder into the tree, hitching his legs higher, into the crooks of his elbows. His hips are snapping upward helplessly, raggedly, and he can't stop.
“You're right,” Hakkai breathes, and suddenly his vines are writhing from his body, supporting his hands, winding around Gojyo's hips, over his ass, down his thighs. One slithers ticklishly up his crack, the tiny leaves scraping like the light touch of fingernails and Gojyo shudders all over.
“Shit, do you think that's a good idea?”
In answer, the vines pull him sharply forward as Hakkai presses down, filling himself. Hakkai moans as the vines cant Gojyo's hips, forcing him to bend his knees, raising him up on the balls of his feet. He clutches Hakkai's biceps for support, fingers digging into muscle. Tensed, the vines feel like a serrated knife laid across his skin, unyielding leaf-tips pricking slightly. Gojyo imagines his ass will be covered in thin red scratches tomorrow. When they relax they feel silken, almost insubstantial, allowing him to pull back then tightening to thrust him sharply upward again, into the molten heat of Hakkai's body. He grunts, and Hakkai makes a choked noise, canines flashing. The markings around his neck and shoulder shift across the skin in time with their slow fucking. One vine slides up the side of Gojyo's throat, across his scars, just touches the corner of his mouth. He licks it, tenderly, opens his eyes to find Hakkai watching him. His slit pupil is dilated so wide it looks round, and Gojyo's orgasm is crowding closer with every thrust, tearing up his spine as Hakkai holds them tight together, so tight all around him.
“Hey,” Gojyo says, still breathless. His legs are starting to shake with the effort of staying upright, but they are still bound together, his cock softening inside Hakkai, the vines a gentle caress until he tries to pull away. “Hey. Can we sit?”
Hakkai apparently can't say anything, just growls something that may or may not be his name. There is a dizzy, half-controlled fall, and Hakkai is heavy on top of him, the vines stroking lazily across his chest, slithering down his ribs to trail along the ground. They have no thickness, only ticklish sensation, like a breath of air. Hakkai's hands are a mess, when he finally lets his markings coil back onto his skin, and Gojyo scrapes the bark from under his talons, chafes off the dirt, traces the turn of twitching leaves around each finger with the tip of his tongue. He thinks about getting them up, but Hakkai's body is limp, the lids of his eyes purpled with fatigue.
“Hakkai,” he says against the long taper of his ear.
“Nnh,” Hakkai replies, faintly.
“Can't sleep until you talk to me.”
Gojyo worries Hakkai's narrow earlobe with his teeth, lets his head flop back against the ground. Night insects whirr from the brush. There is something digging into the small of his back.
“Good of Sanzo,” Hakkai manages, finally, “to come check on us.” His voice is halting but otherwise normal, politeness and buried sarcasm clearly intact. Gojyo feels his shoulders relax, his forehead unknit. He lets out a long breath.
“Shitty monk should've known better.”
“He worries.”
Gojyo lets out a snort of unexpected laughter, feels Hakkai shake slightly with suppressed mirth. He watches his rough fingers move through Hakkai's shaggy hair.
“Are you okay like that?” Hakkai asks, halfheartedly starting to rise. Gojyo stops him with a hand heavy on his back. In a moment he'll get up, get them clean, and Hakkai's pants pulled up. He'll find the packs, dig out their blankets and put the food up a tree, away from animals. But for now-
“Yeah,” Gojyo says, “Fine.”