Hakkai plays hide-and-go-seek with his smile. It's the nook under the stairwell, the spot behind the shelves. It's his comfortable safe haven between the frantic sprints of truth, and he is good at ducking behind it when life's “its” come seeking him out.

Like tonight. Gojyo's sitting across from him on the bed, cards dangling from a hand and words dangling from his lips like a cigarette.

“You okay?”

As if it matters. That's the part that makes him run. Hakkai disappears behind his smile, his laugh, and answers lightly,

“Of course. I believe I am winning this hand.”

Sanzo would let it drop at that. Goku would believe him. But Gojyo sets his cards down, face up against the cheap bedspread, to reveal a pretty good hand and the fact that he's not satisfied.

“You sure about that?”

The cards say yes, but Hakkai's body says no: a slight tension in the fingertips, a waver in the smile. If Gojyo keeps chasing, he'll eventually catch up, and being caught is unacceptable because Hakkai can't think of anything he wants more.

As it is, Gojyo is coming closer; Ready or Not across the bedspread and the cards. His hand lands on Hakkai's shoulder, and then his eyes peer in, too deep, and there's compassion there, understanding there, that only laughter can evade. Hakkai laughs light and falsely, but it's a poor bit of cover in this game. Gojyo sees right through it, and kisses him hard, destroying the smile and its protection.

When Hakkai kisses back, he is well and truly captured. He opens his mouth and swallows his objections. There are still walls he could hide behind, but Gojyo's tongue is so inviting that it seems pointless to try. When Gojyo's hand presses him back down against the mattress, Hakkai allows it. He concedes defeat with parted knees and hands fisted tight in Gojyo's clothing.

Time blurs and life simplifies in the redhead's close embrace. Hakkai forgets about hiding, then forgets about running, and in one achingly perfect moment, forgets to care about forgetting. When it's over, life is child's play once again, and Hakkai's smile is transparently contented for a while.

“Looks like I win after all,” the redhead grins, all out of breath, but pleased.

"So it seems," Hakkai admits, "but I believe I may request a rematch." He arches an eyebrow and sees his interest returned.

Now close your eyes and count to ten...

“That’s it.” Sanzo slammed his glass down and pushed back from the table. “I’m going to bed. Monkey, you’re rooming with Hakkai.”

Goku opened his mouth to protest, but Sanzo’s glare as he stormed off warned against it. Pouting, he poked at the last mushroom on his plate, then stuck his tongue out at Gojyo. “Good. I don’t wanna room with the skinny kappa, anyway!”

Gojyo just smirked, and ground out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. “And I don’t wanna room with the little drooling baby snoring monkey, either!”

“I don’t--!”

“My,” smiled Hakkai. “I believe it is getting rather late after all.” The look he turned on Gojyo had less to do with picking fights and more to do with, well, not dying. “Please do try to not leave quite as big a mess as last time, Gojyo.”

Gojyo snorted. The last place they’d stayed, the manager had been more than a little riled by the cigarette burns in the windowsill, and Gojyo’d earned the rare honour of enduring his lecture on considerate houseguests while Hakkai had smiled death from over the man’s shoulder. “Yes, mom.” Goku snickered, and Gojyo flipped him off angrily.

“Thank you, Gojyo.” Hakkai stood, folding his napkin with exaggerated care. “If I were to have to clean up after you, our departure might have been delayed, and I think Sanzo is in enough of an unpleasant mood, don’t you agree?”

“Okay, okay!” Gojyo leaned back in his chair, the picture of innocence. “I’m sittin’ here drinkin’ a beer, and then I’m gonna smoke, an’ then I’m going t’bed.” Don’t worry. I’m just gonna fuck him ‘til he screams my name. “No mess.”

He usually shoots when he’s screaming, Gojyo. Be careful. “Then I’ll see you in the morning. Come along, Goku.” Still laughing, Goku bounced off after Hakkai, snickering over his shoulder.

Bwahahahaha. *hands over carrots for more bunnies*

Someone else who's been wowed by Banri's latest broadcast, eh? XD

Meh. This is so-so...

+++++++++++++++

"You seriously can't..."

The scrape and press of nails across his hipbone are a warning, and alarm shivers in his gut, a cold realisation that this is not really a two-way thing any more. Hakkai's other hand has his shoulder pinned down hard against the floor and he's not kidding, Gojyo can feel it. He thought it'd be good, a little bit dangerous, and it was all going like a dream until Hakkai flipped him over and he froze. It was just instinct; he doesn't think Hakkai would hurt him but he's not stupid - Hakkai is dangerous like this, is everything he's not when the limiters are on and Gojyo has always known to handle him carefully. But they've been at this for a good couple of years now, and he always wanted everything he can think of and he's never been the type of guy to not go there, to say, hey, that's probably a really dumb idea, and you're gonna live to regret it. It probably should have been another, earlier warning that Hakkai didn't even argue when he suggested it. Now maybe he understands why.

"Oh, please," Hakkai says, and it's not a request, not with that tone of voice. "Do I have to gag you? I'd rather not; I want to hear you." His hand moves from Gojyo's bare hip, trails around his ass, and it doesn't matter that Gojyo's tensing, that he's trying to get away; Hakkai just gets a better hold on him, this time the back of his neck, and presses forward, and he's still not messing about.

No warning, no preliminary licks to get him used to the feel; Hakkai just shoves his tongue straight in, hard and fuck, what the fuck, long, and Gojyo's strangled moan has more to do with panic than arousal.

"No," he moans again, as Hakkai pushes forward, burying his face in his crack and breathes and licks and sucks and thrusts and Gojyo's trembling, hyperventilating, hates it, fucking hates it, it's too open, too intimate, filthy and exposed and terrifying. "No. Stop. Don't."

He'd had no idea. Hakkai with his limiters on would never- They're so fucking vanilla together it's almost funny, but good, it's always been incredibly good, even Hakkai fucking him is great; slow, steady, considerate, always getting Gojyo off like it's his sole purpose in life. But this? Hakkai's never tried anything crazy, anything Gojyo wouldn't like, except now the gloves are off - literally - and he doesn't seem to care, is doing what he wants and it doesn't matter and he's rimming him like he could crawl up there and Gojyo thinks he might be about to pass out just from sheer fright.

"Yeah. Come on, Gojyo."

How can he even still hear that? Hakkai's practically talking into him and fuck, God of fuck, Gojyo is shivering and shuddering and panting like a freaked animal and Hakkai is right back in, slurping and licking and making sounds like Gojyo's the best thing ever, obscene sounds Gojyo doesn't want to hear except his dick is hard, harder than he's ever been and he wants more than just that tongue, that mouth, wants it hard until he can't even think anymore, God.

"No," Hakkai growls - snarls - and Gojyo realised he just said that out loud, has been saying it for the last fucking eternity. "Come first. Like this. Then I'll fuck you." He spreads Gojyo open further, hand clenched and pulling rough at Gojyo's ass-cheek and his tongue spikes back in and curls and hits that spot that shoots straight to Gojyo's dick and suddenly Gojyo's thrusting back, spreading his knees, opening himself up and coming, hard, shockingly hard and moaning loud and distressed.

"Oh, good boy, Gojyo," Hakkai purrs, and Gojyo gasps for breath and hears it, and knows; Hakkai's only just getting started, and it isn't going to matter what Gojyo wants until Hakkai's limiters are back on his ear.

And thank fuck Gojyo left them in the other room, because he'd for hate Hakkai to be tempted.

So euhmn... I hope it's a bit like what you wanted...

~*~

She hadn't meant to walk in on them, really, she hadn't. She'd simply wandered into Doku's quarters because that was what she always did when he didn't reply to her knocks and when he wasn't in the small living room. She simply assumed that he was napping... So she went into his bedroom.
Doku was on his bed, sure, but he wasn't alone. Nor was he napping.

Kougaji was on his back, head thrown back and his hair fanning out over the pillow. He was panting and his claws had lashed into the sheets in such a manner that they had to leave holes. Doku was looming over him, sitting between his spread tights and stroking his jaw in what seemed to be a suiting rather than an arousing manner. Both of them where completely naked.
"Shhhh..." he whispered, "Easy Kou, easy..."
Kougaji groaned, eyes slowly opening to look into his lover's face. "Doku-" he began, but he couldn't seem to find the words to finish his sentence, "Doku..."
"It's alright Kou, don’t want this to end just yet, now do we?" the bigger man said, still in that suiting tone of voice.
"Doku, please..."

She couldn't help but look, the two on the bed hadn't seen her, and they looked so- so beautiful together, so right. Something in her felt a little left out, but she refused to give in to it, refused to let it get to her. Instead, she pulled back, just a little, just beyond the door, closing it until she could only just see the two man on the bed.

"Doku, please!"
Kougaji's voice was cracking, he seemed desperate, laying there, begging for his best friend to take him. Kou had the fingers of one hand buried between Kou’s legs and was moving them in what seemed to be a mocking of the actual act. She slid down to her knees without a thought on her part, still mesmerized by what was going on in front of her.

A low chuckle, sounding utterly sexy, came from the Doku, and than he nodded, as if taking a decision. He let his hand fall away from Kou’s face and instead closed the distance between them, kissing the smaller man passionately, hands stroking all over his naked chest, pinching a nipple and scratching lightly over his side. Kougaji's hands came up to claw at Doku's back, to pull him closer.
Suddenly, Kou gasped and broke the kiss, making a sound that held the middle between a whine and moan. Immediately, Doku pulled back, looking down on the other with what seemed like worry on his face. "You OK?" he asked.
Kou nodded, "Just surprised me, 's all... Go on, Doku, I was ready five minutes ago!”
Grinning and shaking his head slightly, Doku pulled back his fingers from between Kou’s legs and started feeling around the sheets for something.

Unconsciously, one of her hands had started fondling her breast, and the other wanted to creep inside her clothing. She quickly pulled them back. She shouldn't be doing this! Shouldn't be watching them in such an intimate moment, but... But. They looked so hot, so gorgeous together and she couldn't help but watch and she was wet down there and she needed, just had to touch...

Doku had apparently found what he was looking for and was fussing with some small tube. Lube, she suddenly realized, if they where going to- to- to indulge themselves, they'd need lube. She'd heard someone say that sometime, wasn't quite sure who it was.

The stupid kappa just had to introduce the concept of "tag" to the monkey that day. This led to the two of them running all over the temple, knocking things over and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Of course, once Gojyo actually caught Goku, it ended up in a very one-sided tickle fight, and damn could that kid shriek. He curled up into a ball and was laughing and calling Gojyo every name he knew, but the kappa wasn't stopping yet.

I figured it was time to step in and stop the madness. I took out the harisen and brought it down on both of them, making Goku squeak and pout and Gojyo give me an evil look.

"Oh, you want in on the action too, monk?" he asked, and I noticed the predatory glare in his eyes. Before I could respond, he brought me down to the floor on my stomach - hard.

Goku tried to come to my "aid" but kept darting back from Gojyo's fingers. I felt featherlight touches along my neck and I couldn't help but squirm.

"I'll kill you!" I kept repeating over and over, but that didn't do any good. His fingers slid down my arms, tickling the underside as I choked back a laugh. "I swear I will fucking -- ah! -- kill you!" I cursed myself for leaving the top of my robes down.

"Sure you will," he agreed, fingers gliding down to tickle my sides. "I'm terrified of you."

The spasm that went through me from having such a sensitive spot touched felt oddly... good. That just made me angrier, and I thrashed to get Gojyo off of me. "I will cut you into tiny pieces -- ah! -- and bury you all over the temple grounds. No one will -- shit! -- ever find your remains!"

This is probably a little darker than what you had in mind. Eh heh... sorry about that.

*******************************************

Hakkai growled and spun about, smashing the youkai’s head against the nearest tree before dropping to one knee and slicing a wide burst of chi through the approaching... well. Army was as good a word as any.

In the distance, he could still hear the report of Sanzo’s gun and occasional cheerful whoop from Goku, but the shots were coming faster now, heartbeat-fast, and were growing progressively distant.

He had no idea where Gojyo was.

Three more youkai broke the treeline and charged, two of them swinging swords. Hakkai pivoted, snapping the neck of the leader with a swift chop, and slamming his elbow into the face of the second, knocking him into the third, whose throat he crushed under heel. There were just too many of them, with more arriving every moment, and he could no longer hear Sanzo’s gun.

It was probably a very bad idea, but that had never stopped him before. Besides, what other choice did he have?

Yang shoved his way to the front of the line, chest puffed and preening. His men had done good, separating the enemy like this and then wearing them down. The mass murderer – the party’s driver, he recalled – was leaning against a tree, panting heavily and dripping with sweat. He’d be an easy kill, now, and oh, the rewards his head might bring! A promotion, certainly, Yang nodded, drawing his sword. Perhaps even a commendation. Perhaps – and Yang trembled with the thought – perhaps an early retirement!

The driver wiped his face with a shaky hand, then raised his head – had his ears been that long before? – and all Yang’s daydreams of a wife and a little farm vanished as the grinning driver leapt on him and tore him in half.

*********************************************

He dropped what was left of the corpse and exhaled contentedly. The field was coated in blood and bodies, the heavy coppery-rotten smell intoxicating like no alcohol could ever be. The few he had left alive had fled down the hillside, scattering in their panic. His lip curled back at the thought of chasing them down, finishing the game, but there were others. Three... no, four others. From beyond that rise, there, was the unmistakable feel of divine and earth magics, close together with a smaller, unremarkable energy. A small part of his mind cried out at the thought of sinking sharp teeth into divine flesh, of ripping apart the small earthy one as he had all these others that lay at his feet, but before he could silence the annoying voice, his decision was made for him.

Crashing through the trees and yelling, he was part human, part youkai, and some of the blood on him was his own. Even over the battlefield stink, he smelled delicious, heat and salt and musk.

Hakkai moved.

on it!

Mixture of familiarity and newness; guilt.

"More sake," Gojyo said, pretty steadily for someone who'd had as much as he'd had. Sanzo was paying. It was only fair, since this was all Sanzo's fault.

Stupid detour, stupid ancient forbidden temple. Stupid monk. Gojyo knocked back the shot of sake that had appeared in front of him and felt Hakkai's hand on his shoulder.

"Are you ready to go upstairs, Gojyo?" he asked, gentle, like Gojyo was suddenly made of crystal, or maybe nitro glycerin. "You should rest."

"What, 'cause I'm tired from hauling around my enormous tits? I don't need sleep, I need more fucking sake."

Hakkai sighed, and Gojyo was peripherally aware of several interested glances from around the room. He glanced down and wiggled his shoulders a little, and the boobs jiggled. They were, actually, pretty big, though maybe enormous was an overstatement.

"Gojyo. Please. We can take a bottle with us. Two bottles," he told the bartender. "I imagine Sanzo will want some too."

"Totally his fault."

"He did tell you not to touch anything."

"He moved that penis thing! His fault. Totally. We're having a wake," he explained to the bartender, who slid the two bottles over the bar to them. "A wake for my dick. And then a resurrection. Night of the living zombie dicks. He better fix this, Hakkai, or so fucking help me, I will--"

Hakkai clapped a hand over his mouth, got the bottles in the other and dragged him towards the stairs.

Gojyo was struggling, though not very hard, on the way up. Maybe that was why Hakkai's hand slipped. He didn't move it, and by the time they reached the top, Gojyo's eyes felt wide enough to pop out of his head.

"Hakkai," he whispered. "You're touching my tits."

Hakkai smiled. "Did you think I wouldn't want you like this? Really?"

"You wanna grope my tits on a public staircase? Really?"

Sanzo stuck his head out a door nearby and glared. Goku was snoring in the background. "Shut the hell up. I'm trying to sleep."

Gojyo grabbed his wrist and yanked. "Oh, no. You are not sleeping. You are coming to my dick wake."

"He did apologize, Gojyo. Maybe--"

"Damn right, he apologized. That's how I know it's his fault!" It was a dead giveaway, that. And the way Sanzo barely resisted as Gojyo towed him into the room he and Hakkai were sharing and pushed him onto the bed.

"We're leaving early tomorrow, and if--"

"We're leaving--" Gojyo had to pause for a burp. There had been beer earlier. "When I say we're leaving. Yeah. That's right." He swayed a little, overbalanced, and sat down too fast. He leaned against Sanzo's side. "You're boney."

He was, too. Hot, though. Especially with just his jeans on. And warm. Gojyo wouldn't mind staying like this for a while.

"You're hammered." Sanzo waved away the bottle of sake Hakkai was holding out. "He doesn't need any more."

"No, I do, see? I really do, really, 'cause I have no dick, Sanzo. I have-- I have girlparts. I have a pussy. Me. Fuck."

Hakkai sat very close on his other side and gave him a look he couldn't quite read. He put an arm around Gojyo's waist. "I'm sure it's reversible," he said.

"It'll be fine," Sanzo said. "Stop whining." But he didn't get up and leave, or smack Gojyo around, or anything. Guilt, Gojyo thought. Obviously. He didn't even move so Gojyo couldn't lean on him anymore.

Gojyo frowned for a second and squinted at Hakkai. "You're touching my tits again."

"Only one," Hakkai said. His hand had crept up slowly from Gojyo's waist and now cupped one breast lightly.

"I'm leaving," Sanzo said.

"No, you're not." Hakkai caught his arm and pulled him back down. And for some reason, Sanzo didn't swear and stomp off. Huh.

Hakkai rubbed a thumb slowly over Gojyo's nipple until it hardened, until Gojyo's newly acquired parts were clenching a little with how good it felt. "I'm going to take your shirt off now," Hakkai murmured. "All right?"

Gojyo nodded and lifted his arms when Hakkai told him to. Things were more than a little fuzzy at the edges, and Hakkai's hands were on him again, on his tits and waist, and then arranging him to sit--oh. Astride Sanzo's lap. Gojyo blinked and swayed.

Well, I tried. I hope this is at least partly what you wanted. *nervous smile*

Steamy Silence

Goku sat riveted, watching the smooth flow of water over Sanzo's hair and back. Sanzo's hair had darkened to a warm honey tone, damp curls clunging to the nape of his neck. Goku watched breathlessly as Sanzo lowered the bucket and picked up a cloth. The only sound in the room was the quiet drip of water onto the tiled floor.

Goku shifted forward slightly, licking his lips at the sight of the clear drops clinging to golden skin. Everything about Sanzo reminded him of the sun. Golden hair, golden skin, hot temper. Goku wanted to taste that water, to see if it had managed to pick up the taste of pure Sanzo.

Sanzo worked the wet soap into a lather, slowly and languidly smoothing the cloth over his body. Goku shivered, reminding himself to be quiet. He didn't want Sanzo to get mad and kick him out. But he was so hungry, and he wanted to lick every drop off of Sanzo's skin, tasting and teasing until Sanzo moaned. Goku's eyes followed every move of the cloth, creamy soap leaving swirls of white on arms, chest, neck.

Goku bit his lip, easing his hand down his stomach to rest on his achingly hard cock. He deliberately teased himself by not stroking, not moving any further. He had a tendency to make noise when he touched himself. Right now he had to be quiet.

Goku knew that Sanzo would be bathing tonight. After five days on the road with not a town in sight, this huge hotel had come as a welcome relief. Tempers always became sharper when they had to camp out. Goku knew that Sanzo was a meticulous person, and Sanzo definitely did not like to be dirty. When Hakkai had mentioned spending the night, Goku had seen the tension of Sanzo's shoulders ease slightly.

He had covered his own delight at the sight of the bath house by constantly exclaiming his hunger. And he had been hungry. But dinner that night had its own perils. Goku had been waiting anxiously for his dessert to arrive when he had caught sight of the water condensing on his glass. The winding trail of that one drop had flashed an image of naked, wet Sanzo into his brain, and before he knew it his tongue was tracing over the glass, trying to catch that taste in his mind. Gojyo had stared at him, then laughed and teased, joking about his eating habits. The waitress saved Goku by bringing his three desserts and refilling his drink. He'd kept his mouth full of less dangerous things for the remaining time at the table.

He couldn’t remember when he hadn’t kissed her.

It just... it was what you did, with your mother. A brush of lips over her cheekbone when you got home, a soothing kiss on her temple when she was upset. Had he always been taller than her? He knows he must not have been, must have been Gojyo’s size once, small and slight (so breakable) but he couldn’t remember, couldn’t remember when he hadn’t been tall and broad and prone to hitting his head against things when he wasn’t paying enough attention. (Not like Gojyo, who moved quick and was light on his feet and always had bruises.)

But this... this was different.

He didn’t think sons were supposed to kiss their mothers with tongue.

It was just... she’d been so upset, and when he’d gone to kiss her hair, she’d turned her head up, pressing their mouths together, and then her lips had opened, and... it wasn’t unpleasant, really, and if it hadn’t been for the sick feeling unfolding in his stomach, he would have been enjoying himself.

And he kind of was anyway, and that was just.... he didn’t know what that was.

She had her arms around him, holding him tight, and that was usual, that was normal, except that this time her breasts were pressed tight to his chest, and he couldn’t help but notice how soft and warm they were and how nice they felt, squished against him.

But... “I’m missed you so much,” she muttered into his skin, lips slick with the saliva from their mouths. Jien tried to pull away. “But I’ve-” he started, but she was looking almost normal, her gaze direct, and she wasn’t crying anymore, and he’d almost think everything was fine, except he’d never seen her look hungry like she did now. She pulled his head back to hers, muffling what he’d been trying to say, and okay, he knew if he really tried he could get away, but that would upset her, and she’d already spent the evening...

...it was always better when she was calm, when she wasn’t.... when she was calm, Gojyo was safe and when she was upset....

His mother leaned back on to the bed, tugging him down on top of her, one hand stroking the zipper of his pants, and she clearly liked what his body was doing, because when she unzipped his fly and reached inside, finding him hard, he saw her smile, and that expression... it had been so long since he’d since her look like that.

....she yelled when she was upset, and Gojyo was in the other room, and really he didn’t need...

“It’s been so long,” she sighed, tugging the skirt of her dress up and guiding him into her.

Jien tried to remember if he’d locked the door.

I'll start working on this.

Gonou had a nice smile and kind eyes, green like glass seen under water. He was patient, so patient, and really truly loved. Kanan watched him with the smaller children, never tiring of their piping voices asking questions, never looking bored at their shaky attempts to write. He praised every one of them, even when the characers they drew in crayon looked meaningless and stupid. She didn't know how he did it. She wasn't that fond of children herself, and felt sure she would snap at the class and reduce them to tears. Gonou never did. He was a saint.

She'd have to do something about that.


*


"You have beautiful writing," she said, watching Gonou mark homework.

"This? I'm just scribbling," he said, smiling up briefly.

He was lovely, she thought, digging her nails into her palms. "Teach me."

"What?"

"Teach me to have writing like yours." She wasn't taking no for an answer, she thought, stealing the pen. She sat at the table, Gonou standing behind her, his hand on hers, guiding carefully. She smiled at the touch of his fingers on hers, and smiled too to see the care with which he helped her draw the characters. "Look how good you are at teaching," she aid.

"Oh! Wait! I have just the thing!" Gonou said, whirling away and running into his bedroom. She didn't have time to be disappointed before he was back, an ornate box in his hands. "Mr Zhou gave me this," he said. "It's a thank you for getting his son to actually read." Gonou laughed, not unkindly. Mr Zhou's son was older by far than the other students and far more dedicated to baseball than books. He'd been able to read no more than his name before Gonou came. Of course, it helped that the girl he mooned over was vocal in her desires for poetry before kisses. Gonou took out the brushes and inkstone from the box. "Lovely," he said. "And quite impractical. Ball point pens are much more use these days." He handed a fat brush over and went to rummage for paper to practice on.

Kanan watched him prepare the ink, then his hand was back on hers, moving the brush easily and smoothly in the ink and over the cheap paper he'd bought for the school. The lines were thick and shockingly black after the thin red pen he'd used for marking. "Write my name," Kanan said, watching the lines trail out. "And yours." Her heart beat faster as he swirled the brush, interlocking their names. "You could be a professional calligrapher," she said.

"Do I look like I'm ninety?"

She laughed. "Write 'love'." His hand, so warm on hers, was smudged with ink, the long fingers black at the tip. She felt dizzy, and leant back against him. It was as if the brush moved by itself in her hand. I'm so happy we found each other, it spelled out, and her legs felt weak, heat pooling in her groin. Me too, she made it write, clumsier and blockier than his script. "You need to let me set the pace," she said.

"Yes," he said, very quietly.

She turned in the chair to face him, and found him close, eyes bright and solemn. If she wasn't a coward, she thought. If he was anyone else -- if she wasn't his damn sister . . . She took the brush and dabbed a wet, black spot on the very end of his nose. Coward, she thought as he laughed, the moment broken. He leaned in and rubbed his nose deliberately on hers, still laughing, so she squirmed back and wrote her name on his face. He snatched the brush and wrote something on her face too, holding the brush out of reach when she tried for revenge. Kanan jumped up onto the chair, grabbing him with one hand to steadty herself and to make sure he didn't run off with the brush, plucking it from his hand before he could make more than a surprised noise at having his face suddenly shoved into her stomach. The laughing tussle that followed ended with her half-lying on the table, Gonou leaning over her, one hand pinning her down, the other drawing tickly lines on her face and neck. Kanan wriggled and he leaned on her more firmly, dipping the brush in the ink and sliding it down her hair. He looked intent, focuses, determined to get things right, just as he did in the classroom.

I did not post the original request, but whoo baby, is this EVER my kink -- so notoriously so that my evil twin went ahead and requested this on my behalf when she saw it wasn't already listed! :)

And since this is essentially my kink request via proxy, if I may I'd like to add a few more specific scenarios in the hopes that one or more of them may be inspirational:

• Complicated bondage that, like shibari (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_bondage), is as much about decorative visual appeal as it is about functional restraint -- bondage as art appreciation. (Link probably NSFW.)
  
• First time exploring kink: Hakkai is reluctant, Gojyo enthusiastic.
  
• Hakkai slicing off clothing with his claws.
  
• Recreational use of Hakkai's chi manipulation skills.
  
• Each of the boys is attracted by or outright fetishizes some physical feature the other is conflicted/uncomfortable about -- Gojyo's hair color, Hakkai's youkai markings/teeth/claws.
  
• Heck, just give Hakkai a long-hair fetish and I'll die a happy woman.
  

Safe, sane, consensual, and mutually gratifying, please! Angst along the way is more than OK, but it'd be nice if it could still lead to a happy ending, and I do mean that in every possible sense. ;)

"What?" Gojyo said, blinking, and he could feel something sliding down the back of his hand and slipping between his knuckles. Probably blood, but he wasn't sure any more whose.

"I said," Banri drawled, and dragged on his smoke until his cheeks hollowed. His eyes had that heavy lidded, after party look to them, sharp and lazy at the same time and fuck, he didn't look right now like he'd just taken out three guys. "You gotta learn not to let shit like that get to you. Sooner or later, someone's gonna use it against you. Better to be in control of it, then the other way around, yeah?"

Gojyo frowned, clenched his hand until his knuckles - yeah maybe that was his blood - burned and the ache seeped up his arm. He had no idea what Banri was talking about.

"Did you hit your fucking head? What the hell are you going on about?"

Banri didn't answer, but he glanced down at the guy Gojyo had just finished working over, and funny but he couldn't remember what had set him off now; he'd just wanted that fucking dirty smile off his face, like nobody smiled at Gojyo like that, like he was trash or something, and got away with it. Nobody. Not anymore.

But then Ban's eyes lifted back to his, and the look he gave him then didn't say trash. Ban had never looked at Gojyo like he was trash, not even at the start; he'd always somehow looked at him like he was worth something, but the longer Gojyo spent with the guy, the more he understood. Things of value as far as Banri was concerned were things of currency, and Banri didn't want them for what they were, only what they could get him. Gojyo was coming to realise that, and it was probably saying something that this at least was a step up in the world.

"Well, job well done, anyway," Banri shrugged, as if the sweet little lark they'd just pulled had been something to do to pass the time. "Think it's time to celebrate."

"You're not gonna fence that?" Gojyo wondered, glancing down at the relic clenched idly in Ban's hand, almost forgotten.

"Sure we are. Sixty Forty split like I promised. I know a guy," and here Ban grinned like a wolf. "Gives me a good deal. And I feel like a drink. Let’s go." He turned, tucking the relic into his jacket, and Gojyo didn't think twice about following, or what it was they were leaving behind.

+++++++

And it really had started off as a good night - beers, babes, a little bit of Blackjack and Banri in the corner of the bar, head bent towards a guy, a human, Gojyo'd never seen before. They'd been introduced when he and Ban had arrived - Hey, Shen, this here's Gojyo, my guy; Hi. I'm very happy to meet you. 'Happy to meet you'? Gojyo didn't know Banri knew anyone that nice, but the guy reminded him of his fifth grade teacher; pleasant but a bit daft, and all soft like he'd bruise if you looked at him too hard. Apparently he was Ban's fence though, so Gojyo left them to it and wandered off to find entertainment.

But now, well, the game was a drag, the beer was weak and the dumb broad on his right just had to mention his eyes, didn't she? Why the fuck did they have to do that; like their chances of getting him into bed increased significantly if they gazed into his fucking eyes and told him how beautiful they were, how red. He folded on his hand and pushed away from the table, a non-committal grunt answering the disappointed questions as he walked away with his winnings.

And realised Ban and his fence were gone. Fuck. No. No way.

Gojyo sighed, learning back into Blonde’s lap and spreading his legs wider so Brunette could mouth his balls. He turned his head to nibble the soft skin just below Blonde’s navel and she giggled, her breasts bouncing hypnotically. Brunette was doing that thing with her tongue that always made his eyes cross, and any second no Blonde would stretch across him to kiss her and he’d be buried in boobs.

The twin dream was probably the best dream in the history of forever. Blonde was getting noisy now, moaning and gasping as she fingered herself, but Gojyo still thought he heard what sounded like Banri and Hakkai talking. Huh. Hey, that was cool – the twin dream had always been just him and the girls, but even when it got crazy neither of the girls had Banri’s huge dick (although there was that one time Brunette had had him bent over on his knees and he wasn’t sure what was happening or when her hands had got that big, but he’d been too busy eating out Blonde to pay much attention, and then there’d been pink snow and little dancing puffball things and he’d been much better about sniff-testing stuff in the fridge before eating it after the rest of that dream) so sure, the more the merrier!

"I detest youkai."

Okay, Banri could stay, and Hakkai could take his gorgeous green eyes and fuck right off. No fucking way he wanted any of that serious shit in his favorite dream. Banri said something, telling him off from the sound of it, and yeah, Banri was already wrapping himself around Blonde, and Hakkai could come share Brunette, kiss her big soft lips while Gojyo ate his ass, and then they’d see who hated youkai, then he’d see that...

"This is part of my punishment."

Punishment? Fuck, Hakkai, this is fucking! This isn’t punishment, it’s the best kind of reward, two hot girls and two hot guys, and…...nd shit, the walls were bleeding and Blonde’s little gasps didn’t sound so happy anymore. Goddammit, time to wake up. Wake up, Gojyo, wake up wake up open your eyes and…

...and Banri’s about to sock Hakkai in the face. Shit, wake up. "Hey. Hey, what’re you guys doing?!"

In the moment of silence as they both stared at him, Gojyo could’ve sworn he heard one, then two tiny clinks, like bottlecaps hitting the floor. Then Hakkai moved so fast he blurred, and Banri moved so fast he blurred, and Banri hit the wall, and a fucking truck hit Gojyo. Oh, good. Still dreaming, then.

"I really don't think you should go in there," Dokugakuji warned, clearing his throat awkwardly. His words were conciliatory, but the beefy arm thrown across the doorway was uncompromising; he was certainly taking his job as hired muscle seriously, Zakuro thought.

"Look," he snapped self-importantly. "The Great Sage summoned me all the way from India, and I was given the impression it was a matter of utmost concern--probably a promotion for me, haha!--and if you continue to insist upon keeping me from--"

"Of course not," the burly demon sighed. "It's just that you're--"

Ignoring him, Zakuro ducked under his arm, flung open the door, and...

"...Early."


(http://photobucket.com)

“Do you think that’s all of them?” Kenren asked as he surveyed the damage around him.

“Hmm. Let’s hope,” Tenpou replied absent mindedly, “there was hardly a point of sending the army down here in the first place. A second time would be a waste.”

Kenren listened to Tenpou as he walked a small circle around the main chamber of the monastery. He felt like he was being watched, but he chalked it up to post battle nerves, only he and Tenpou were in the chamber, everything else either dead or part of the Heavenly Army, surveying the rest of the holy temple. They were alone, no one was watching them, unless…

Kenren stopped his idle strolling and looked at Tenpou, who was indeed looking back at him.

“Um, Tenpou?”

The Marshal shook his head, as if clearing it of some thought, “Hmmm?”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing…” Tenpou paused for a moment, as if he were taking in the sight before him. “You’re bleeding, you know.”

Kenren had felt something trickling down his face, but he had thought it was sweat until that moment. He removed one of his gloves and ran his hand over the area he now realized was a bit tender. When he pulled it back, there was indeed blood.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Kenren said through a chuckle. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been injured. Well, at least not the last time he’d been injured on duty…

“Do try to be more careful next time General,” came Tenpou’s voice, startling Kenren out of his thoughts. Tenpou was now standing before him, rather close. Kenren held back the fuck that wanted to escape from his lips. How the hell did he cover the ground between us so quick?

“Oh relax Tenpou, it’s only a scratch,” Kenren replied as he began to wipe his hand clean on the leather of his uniform. “Besides, we don’t die easy.”

“Or not at all, some would say,” Tenpou stated plainly as he continued to eye Kenren’s wound, “but that is not the point. How would it look to your subordinates if they saw you injured. How would it look to your commanders?”

“Well, from the way you’re eyeing me, I’d say I look pretty good to my commander at the moment.”

Tenpou raised an eyebrow at Kenren who merely smiled his playboy smile. The General watched as Tenpou removed one of his own gloves and reached toward the wound on the his head. The Field Marshal’s touch was lighter then Kenren expected as he ran a finger up the line of blood that had trickled down his cheek. When Tenpou’s finger grazed the small wound, Kenren hissed lightly. It didn’t hurt, it tingled. It didn’t feel like pain, more like a fleeting pleasure.

He stared at Tenpou who merely stared back, hand now hovering back above the cut. In the Field Marshal’s gaze Kenren could see the gears at work. He knew Tenpou could read him like an open book. Hell, he loved the fact that Tenpou could read him so well, it made things easier in the long run. All he needed was an invitation and Kenren would have his Marshal stripped before he knew what hit him. Tenpou ran the blood speckled finger against his gorgeous lips and tasted it with his pink tongue and Kenren assumed that was invitation enough.

With a fierceness that was almost necessary considering their situation, Kenren seized Tenpou at the hips with his hands as he backed the Marshal up against the nearest support pillar the chamber had to offer. Tenpou’s head thudded against the pillar as Kenren took him in a harsh kiss, their tongues entwining with each other. Kenren could taste his own blood on Tenpou’s lips, he could hear their breathing speed up, feel their hearts pounding. And despite how much he wanted to make this last, he knew they had to be quick. Any number of soldiers could walk in at any moment, or worse yet, Goujun; and he’d be damned if the exalted high and mighty Dragon King of the Western Sea was going to crash his party.

Silhouetted in the candlelight, Yaone carefully wraps the rough hemp rope around Hakkai's chest as he sits cross-legged on the bed. She lays each loop precisely against the previous one, no space between, just tight enough to press against his ribcage, but not tight enough to restrict his breathing. Yaone is too careful for that. Four times around his lower ribcage, forming a band, then she moves up a few inches and begins to wrap again. Hakkai smiles gently down at her, appreciating the care and grace of a shibari artist. Yaone is too focused on her work to smile, and Hakkai appreciates this, too.

She forms the second band of rope around his chest, this time six delicately positioned loops of rope across his pectoral muscles, covering his nipples. Hakkai's breath gets a little deeper, a little slower. His cock twitches and he resists the impulse to stroke it. Yaone loops a doubled strand of rope through the upper band at his sternum, then brings the two doubled strands up and over his shoulders, forming a halter. She pauses momentarily to smooth the rope and ensure it lies flat and taut. It tugs gently on the band around his chest, causing the rope band to rub against his erect, sensitive nipples, pinching them lightly. Hakkai breathes in sharply.

Yaone stops immediately. "Hakkai-san, I'm sorry! Can you breathe? Is the rope restricting your diaphragm?"

He laughs gently. "No, Yaone-san, I am fine. Please continue."

"Yes!" Yaone nods and returns to her task. Behind him, she ties a complicated knot with the doubled strands, fastening them to the two chest bands. Leaving his chest for now, she wraps a second rope twice around his abdomen, across the top of his hipbones and just a short way above his cock. She ties another knot at the small of his back.

"Remember, you should not lie down on your back with knots directly over your spine like this, Hakkai-san," she says. "You might hurt yourself."

"I shall endeavor not to do so," he says with a laugh.

Yaone gently pulls his legs out of their crossed position, so Hakkai is now sitting with both knees up, feet flat on the bed. She wraps two bands firmly around his right thigh, one just below his hip joint, and one a few inches above his knee, as always ensuring the rope lies smoothly against his skin with no gaps. Then with the other strand of the rope, she wraps his left thigh.

She indicates he is to move to one side, sitting on his left leg and leafing his right free. Yaone leans forward, her breasts moving gently against her skimpy bodice, folds his lower leg back and, with care, binds his calf to his thigh at the two bands, making sure the knots lie on the outside of his thigh, not trapped behind his knee, to avoid unintentional damage. She assists him in switching sides so that she can access his left leg and repeated the procedure. Her hair, still pulled into its tail, falls over her shoulder and brushes softly against his things and cock, which hardens a bit in response.

"You're crazy," Gojyo says, but he doesn't sound as alarmed as he should. "You're totally fucking crazy, you know that?" He's on his knees, which makes things easier, or maybe just better.

Sanzo slides the gun-barrel downward, tracing the line of Gojyo's nose, down further till he reaches that filthy obnoxious mouth. Gojyo's eyes go wide. "Oh, fuck. Fucking pervert monk. You gotta be kidding me."

Sanzo is apparently not kidding him. "You like to boast about how good you are with that mouth," he hisses. "Prove it."

Something passes behind Gojyo's eyes, then, something dark and heavy and asking for it. His tongue slides out to lick the barrel, perfectly obscene, and he watches Sanzo as he does it, like he's waiting to see if he's doing it right.

"Suck it," Sanzo says. His finger stays on the trigger and Gojyo shudders. "And touch yourself while you do," he adds, like it's an afterthought.

Gojyo smirks at that. "So I suck, and then you fuck, is that it?"

Sanzo just snorts. "Depends on whether you lose it or not. If you're a one-pump chump then it's your ass getting pounded into the mattress. If you can hold out..." He smiles, and it's hard and challenging and more than a little mean. "Well, we'll see what I feel like."

Gojyo licks the gun again, eyes going all heavy-lidded. "You're a sick fuck, Sanzo."

"And you're the sick fuck who likes it." When Gojyo's mouth finally closes around the barrel of the gun like it's a cock and his hand slips into his pants, Sanzo purrs, deep in his throat, and privately hopes that Gojyo will last.

"I had to do it..you wouldn't understand." Dokugakuji sighed as Yaone rubbed soft circles along his broad back. Of anyone, the dark-haired guard felt he could confide in the girl. She never judged, never batted an eye when he told her that he had a sexual relationship with his own mother. Yaone simply cooed and did her best to tell him that it wasn't his fault. Even so, her soothing tone of voice and proximity pulled at Doku and when Yaone cupped a delicate hand at the back of his neck to draw his head down to her shoulder, it set a flood of memories off.

'...Jien..It's alright, darling. Momma's here for you. And you're here for her, aren't you? My beautiful little boy...'

Suddenly, it was Momma's hand caressing the short hair at the nape of his neck, the way she would when she 'needed' him. The gentle hands of Yaone stirred the reluctant want that Doku remembered from a time not so long ago. The way her hand rested on his white leather-clad thigh, her voice whispering platitudes in his ear.
"Dokugaku, I'm here for you. Let me help make it right." the apothecary comforted, the hand on his thigh trailling up to cradle his cheek. The guard lowered his head to rest on her breast. He could hear the soft thump of Yaone's heart and her flesh tasted like the memories as he ran his tongue deep into her cleavage. She let out a gasp and the claws of her right hand drug superficially along the bared nape of his neck.

'..Momma needs you, Jien. You love me, don't you? Momma's so cold..'

"Momma," Doukgakuji moaned and the two of them slowly fell to the bed.

(Ahaha, I feel so wrong writing this. XD But here you are!)


"Goku!" Hakkai's voice is chiding as he holds the confiscated material. "Where did you even get this sort of book? When I said "read something every day", this is certainly not what I had in mind."

Goku fidgets but he can't manage to feel very guilty, not when he's still full of all those interesting feelings the book had inspired. He'd just been getting to what he suspected Gojyo would refer to as "the good parts", and even now his pants feel... a little too restrictive. A lot more restrictive than they'd been ten minutes ago, anyway.

He adjusts himself shamelessly, notes the way Hakkai's eyes follow the motion and then dart away. Is he blushing? Does Hakkai maybe not know about this kind of book? Really, they're not that bad, but maybe Hakkai always skips the middle part or something. The idea that Hakkai might actually not know something is more than a little wrong. It's a horrible oversight, in fact, one Goku feels needs to be corrected immediately if the world is to be kept on its present normal course.

"Aw, Hakkai! What's wrong with it? It made me feel kinda good. Like, tingly." He hopes his explanation will be enough of a hint. He's determined to let Hakkai borrow it, if that's what he needs. He'll be happy to explain about how the good part is always in the middle, even.

Hakkai looks fairly pink now. "It's not educational," he protests, weakly.

"Sure it is! Like, did you know about the thing with the twist near the top?"

Hakkai looks blank, or maybe faintly shocked. With Hakkai, it's hard to tell.

"You mean you don't know?" Goku, on the other hand, is completely shocked at Hakkai's lack of learning. "I thought it was somethin' all grownups knew. Here, I'll show you." That's when he goes for Hakkai's belt.

"Goku!" Now he's obviously shocked, but his attempt to bat Goku's hands away is feeble at best, like he just can't believe what he's seeing. When Goku wraps a strong, warm hand around him there's an immediate and gratifying response, namely Hakkai's Important Bit growing thicker and harder with each stroke.

Hakkai is gasping, his hands on Goku's shoulders, his expression somewhere between lost and flabbergasted. "Goku! You need to... stop doing that...!" But he makes no effort to push Goku away.

"Why? Geez, I'm just showing you. How 'bout this, is this good?" He leans forward to swipe his tongue across the head, teasing the slit, and thinks to himself, If this don't convince him to read the middle parts, nothing will.

Hakkai makes a sound, a low strangled growl, and then quite abruptly he spurts across Goku's hand, shuddering heavily as he does.

Goku grins and laps at his hand, feeling triumphant. "There, see? Betcha never knew that part."

Hakkai leans back, catching himself dazedly against the wall. "No. I, ah. Suppose I didn't." He sounds vague, dreamlike.

"Well, now you know. You can borrow the book if ya want. The good part's in the middle." He rocks back on his heels, so pleased to be helpful. "An' then when you're done, you can show me what you've learned."

Hakkai flees.