Saiyuki Fic--the MO--Sorrow Floats, Prologue
Last September, I attended a party at YaoiCon. jibii's Saiyuki party, to be exact. I met Soliandxpyne that night and Xpyne was drawing a pretty picture. The picture was a het crack!pairing that I'd never thought about before. Thefacelessevil said something along the lines of "wanting to read that story." Although the picture was smokin' hot, a request for a het story--in the middle of YaoiCon--seemed a little funny to me.
I laughed and made some stupid joke about writing the story. And, while I was still laughing, the damn thing took root in brain. I believe eyesofshinigami saw the look of horror cross my features the moment the bunny sunk its vicious little claws into my gray matter.
A month and 5k later, I knew the story was going to be bigger than I wanted to deal with so I started to ignore it. Then, I lost my memory stick and the 5k of story housed within it (and 100k of other things ...) As I mourned the loss of my USB, part of me was secretly relieved to be rid of that damned story. I knew one thing for certain--I sure as hell wasn't starting it over again.
*cough*
I went on with my life, writing three other stories and a smattering of small stories, but still, that YaoiCon image lingered and the story would not go away. I fought it like crazy. And then, earlier this year, I had a run in with writer's block, so when all else failed, I let the thing back into my life. If it could save me from writer's block--het be damned--I'd take it!
The story was waiting for its moment. And the minute it took control, all I could do was hang on and hoped I survived the crazy ride.
Now, the original request, I believe, was for a PWP, but the story didn't want that either. It's a actually a big pile of angst and a sprawling, coming-of-age story. So, in the end, the story made my life miserable for a time and didn't really give the recipient what she asked for, either.
And yet, I think it might be the best thing I've ever written. Possibly.
Well, as Banri would say, "What can ya do?"
So, here it is. 50+k words, 100+ pages. A prologue, an epilogue, and 8 chapters. I'm doling it out one chapter a night because I worked hard on this stupid thing and I want to post for a week just to feel as if I've finally accomplished something. Except for tonight. Tonight, I give you the prologue and chapter 1. They are the shortest pieces.
I hope you'll like it.
Title: Sorrow Floats, Prologue
Author: Despina_moon
Pairing: Not tellin'.
Summary: Gojyo has a surprising secret from his past he can no longer hide. Will it change everything in the present? Saiyuki AU. Mostly.
Many, many thanks to my beta readers, the amazing moshesque and the fabulous whymzycal. Those two have humored me and put up with months of whining and crying. I can't even begin to express my gratitude. They've made this story into something wonderful and I love them both. ♥ ♥ ♥
Sorrow Floats
Prologue
Gojyo slammed down another glass of whiskey. He was trying to numb his brain--what had he just done? Even worse, what did he have left to do? And most importantly, what he was going to lose because of it?--but there wasn't enough booze in the world to stop his thoughts. He swept out a hand, grasped the opened bottle on his table, and poured another round.
Still feeling a tingle from Hakkai's kiss on his lips and a matching ache in his heart, Gojyo drank again. The kiss had only mildly surprised him. Actually, he'd been expecting it for a while. Hell, he'd wanted it and had been afraid of it at the same time. Their relationship had gone beyond friendship a while ago. The two of them had started out as nothing more than roommates, and now, Gojyo couldn't imagine his life without Hakkai. Taking the next step--going from friends to lovers--seemed natural, but Gojyo hadn't pressed it because of the secret that remained. Even now, Gojyo knew his fear was affecting him, causing him to put off the conversation he had to have with Hakkai.
The kiss had changed everything.
He grabbed his head--the scene hadn't panned out right. Their first kiss was supposed to be fire and brimstone, all clothes-tearing frenzy and frantic touches, but instead, Gojyo had made it awkward, barely mediocre. Maybe he should have faked it--Gojyo was good at faking desire-maybe that would have saved Hakkai from being hurt and Gojyo from thinking about his friend's wounded look.
No, there was a reason Gojyo's return kiss had only been lukewarm. And even if the memory was painful to remember, at least it was real. Besides, if Gojyo had faked it, Hakkai would have known. But still … How would he ever be able to look Hakkai in the eyes again?
The whole situation would've been easily avoided if Gojyo had told Hakkai the story--as he should have-long ago. Now there wasn't an option; he had to tell. And with Hakkai already upset …
"I'm such an idiot," he groaned to himself.
"At least you saved me the trouble of telling you that." Holding an empty glass, Sanzo sat down at the table. He helped himself to the bottle and poured a generous amount of the amber-colored liquid.
"What the fuck do you want?" Gojyo tried to hiss out his words and sound tough, but they came out slurred, and he only ended up sounding drunk.
"A drink."
"Oh." Gojyo's muddled mind couldn't come up with a more interesting comeback.
Sanzo sipped his drink and then lit a cigarette, all the while glaring at Gojyo. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He opened his mouth to fire off a responding insult, but all that came out was, "I totally fucked up."
"How is that something new for you?" Sanzo took another drink.
Even in his inebriated state, Gojyo had enough sense to keep his mouth shut. He lifted his unlit cigarette to his mouth and tried to light it. But since his coordination had left him approximately two drinks earlier, sparking the lighter seemed ridiculously difficult.
After three tries, Sanzo growled in exasperation and held out his own burning lighter.
Gojyo leaned forward. "Thanks."
"If you set your hair on fire, I'm not putting it out."
Gojyo sat back, inhaling the sweet calm of nicotine. "So, what do you think I should do?"
"What the hell do I look like, a camp counselor or something?" Sanzo's voice dropped to a low grumble. "Just talk to his brooding ass."
"Hey, wait," Gojyo's befuddled mind tried to make its way through the alcohol, "how can you even answer that question? You don't even know what I'm talking about." He narrowed his eyes. "Do you?"
"I'm not a moron." Sanzo sucked on his cigarette and glared some more. "Have you ever considered that if I can piece some of this annoying shit together, he can, too?"
Gojyo blinked. He hadn't thought about that.
Sanzo set his elbows on the table and took another sip of whiskey. "Don't underestimate Hakkai. I'm sure he's figured most of it out already."
"But … this is bad." Gojyo grabbed the bottle again. "He'll never forgive me for this."
Shrugging, Sanzo said, "Maybe not, but you won't find out sitting here and crying in your booze like a bitch, will you?" He snatched the bottle from Gojyo's grasp and poured himself another shot. When he set it down again, the bottle was beyond Gojyo's reach.
"You're such a bastard. I don't know how the monkey puts up with you." Gojyo stared at the monk, and all of his sarcasm melted away. He picked up his empty glass and studied it. "You're lucky Goku loves you. You know that, don't you?"
Sanzo took a long, slow drag on his smoke and closed his eyes. "Huh."
Gojyo crushed out his cigarette and stood up, swaying as his vision tried to catch up with his body--he had to grab the edge of the table to steady himself.
"I'm probably too drunk to do this." He took an experimental step towards the door and the room listed a bit. Nope, Gojyo was pretty sure he was the one that listed, and not the room.
Sanzo called softly from behind him. "Gojyo."
Gojyo looked over his shoulder. Sanzo was still glaring, but then again, Sanzo glared most of the time.
"Don't fuck this up."
Gojyo turned to face the pissy monk. "No fucking pressure, huh? Hey thanks, dickhead."
"Just tell him. Only one of two things will happen."
"Yeah? What would that be?"
"Either he'll be fine, or he'll kill you." Sanzo shrugged again. "Sounds simple."
Gojyo was certain the bastard gave him one of those phony-assed half-smiles, but his eyes weren't focusing well enough for him to be certain. "Fucker." He turned away and staggered towards Hakkai's room.
The walk upstairs and down the hallway seemed to take forever. As he stumbled along physically, he mentally swam through his fuzzy, alcoholic thoughts and latched onto the life preserver Sanzo had thrown to him. Hakkai already knew everything.
Gojyo shook his head, causing the walls to ripple. That was a stupid thought; of course Hakkai must already knew. The guy knew everything about Gojyo. Hell, Hakkai knew everything about all of them, it was sort of a weird-almost kinky--hobby for him.
But that didn't explain why Hakkai hadn't said anything about it. That left the other, much scarier option. Hakkai knew what had happened, but he was in denial about the whole thing. Hakkai was a good at denial. Really, really good. What would happen when Gojyo pulled that denial out into the light and forced him to see it? How would Hakkai handle that?
Shit.
Besides, Hakkai might know the where and when, but he didn't know the other part--the emotional part, the real part. The wonder, frustration, joy, and sorrow. No one knew about that--at least no one living, anyway--and even Gojyo had stuffed all those feelings into a dark corner of his mind and tried his best to forget. He smiled internally at his pathetic ridiculousness. As if he could ever forget.
He'd stopped moving, and now he was standing in front of a door-Hakkai's door--with his hand raised, ready to knock. Gojyo's breathing was ragged and his heartbeat hammered so loudly he could almost hear it echoing in the hallway. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this scared. Gojyo wasn't good at this kind of shit. Sure, he could charm his way out of almost any situation, but that wasn't real. Not like this. Real shit was so heavy and hard. And painful.
Not for the first time, he considered running away. If he left now, just walked out the door, he could be miles away before anyone missed him. Sanzo would never let the rest follow him. Yeah. He would do that.
No, he wouldn't.
Gojyo leaned his shoulder and forehead against the doorframe. He had enough regrets in his life and he would not add Hakkai to that pile. He'd rather be dead. Straightening his back and his resolve, he lifted his hand, ready to strike, when the door suddenly opened.
Hakkai stood there with his crisp, ironed shirt, his perfect posture, his phony smile-and stared at Gojyo. To everyone else, Hakkai would seem normal-unreadable--but even in Gojyo's current state of inebriation, he could see his friend's distress.
Hakkai's pants looked just a bit wrinkled, his shoulders had a slight hunch in them, and his fingers twitched almost imperceptibly-that told Gojyo everything. Hakkai was hurt. Badly. And Gojyo was the source of that hurt.
Gojyo tried not to sway and grabbed the doorframe to steady himself, as much from the booze as the realization of what he'd done. And what he was about to do. "Can I come in?"
"Of course, Gojyo. It's your room, too."
Oh, yeah; he'd forgotten they were sharing tonight. Stepping into the room and chewing on his lip, Gojyo tried to figure out where to start.
He glanced at the single window in the room and realized it was open. Gojyo was suddenly aware that the air was heavy with humidity and charged with the faint scent of ozone, clear signs of a coming thunderstorm. A dull, gray light reflected from the charcoal-colored clouds and struggled to illuminate the walls. Their room seemed overly warm, and sweat gathered between Gojyo's shoulder blades as he faced Hakkai and his fixed, impenetrably green stare.
They'd ended up so close that Gojyo could feel Hakkai's breath against his lips. Less than an inch separated them, yet they remained frozen in place, neither backing away nor moving forward.
Gojyo opened his mouth to speak, but Hakkai beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, Gojyo. I shouldn't have kissed you." Hakkai stepped back, his voice soft and full of apology. "I think I misunderstood our circumstances."
Hakkai was sorry? How very like him to take blame for Gojyo's shortcomings. The apology made Gojyo feel even worse, and at the same time, oddly pissed off.
He ran a hand through his hair. "You didn't misunderstand, not at all, 'Kai, but I …" He could hear distant thunder rolling across the sky. "Hakkai, before we … Shit. I have to tell you something first."
"No." Hakkai shook his head. "You don't have to make excuses, and there's nothing you need to tell me."
"It's not like that--I'm not making excuses. And yes, I do need to tell you. It's something I've needed to tell you for years." Gojyo's senses sharpened, adrenaline coursing through him with the force of a tsunami. He was now completely sober and filled with sheer terror. Hakkai was the most important person in his world, and Gojyo could hardly believe he'd dragged his feet for so long and put them in this situation. There was a very good chance what he had to say would end any relationship they had.
"All right." Hakkai was definitely hurt. Everything in his body language practically reeked of his pain. He sat at the little table near the window and folded his arms. "If you feel it's necessary, I suppose I had better hear what you have to say."
Lightning flashed in the distance-but it was still miles away, and the corresponding rumble took several seconds to reach them. There was no doubt; a major storm was coming.
And Hakkai was still waiting for Gojyo to begin his story.
Gojyo was a card player; he lived and died by his ability to charm and deceive, and by his occasional streaks of good luck. The hand he currently held was mediocre at best--things could go either way, but now was not a time for bluffing. He laid his imaginary hand face-up for Hakkai to see.
Gojyo sat down at the table, across from Hakkai. He wasn't looking forward to telling this story-aside from the fact that it might tear his relationship with Hakkai apart, it would make Gojyo truly vulnerable. There were so many emotions and moments he didn't want to relive, and yet, so much of it made him who and what he was. He owed Hakkai this story, and maybe, just maybe, he owed it to himself to tell it.
Exhaling, Gojyo tried to relax as he let himself fall backwards in time. Images tumbled through his mind of warm rain, long summer days, chestnut-colored hair, and a different set of green eyes.
His voice quavered when he finally spoke. "When I was fifteen, I met my first love ..."
***
Sorrow Floats, Chapter 1