fic: aubade
Title: Aubade
Author: Ellyrianna
Fandom: Saiyuki
Pairing(s): Gojyo/Hakkai
Summary: Morning interlude after Sanzo leaves in Even a Worm.
“Gojyo.”
Hakkai’s voice was hoarse, and he coughed to clear it. Gojyo, sitting on the floor across the room, could not see what Hakkai’s face looked like. He had been chain-smoking since he’d wrestled the last of the bandages around Hakkai’s torso the night before and the bright sunlight shooting in through the uncovered window was catching unpleasantly in his gritty eyes.
The blankets on the bed rustled as Hakkai attempted to sit up. He hissed mildly in pain and dropped back down onto his back. A long moment passed in which Gojyo lit a new cigarette off of the corpse of another.
“Gojyo, has Sanzo returned?”
Even as Hakkai said it, Gojyo could feel the lack of faith behind the question. If Sanzo had returned, Hakkai would intuitively know it. He had a sense for those kinds of things; balancing of auras or whateverthefuck.
“Nope,” Gojyo said, eventually. He took a drag and, as the empty taste washed over his numb mouth, wondered why he was wasting cigarettes. It wasn’t like they were doing him any good.
Hakkai sighed almost imperceptibly from across the room. “I thought as much,” he murmured. Gojyo couldn’t see him, but he knew that Hakkai’s eyes were closing. There was something in his voice, some undercurrent of fatigue, that Gojyo had gotten so used to during their travels.
How many nights had he watched Hakkai talk himself to sleep?
“And Goku?” he asked, faintly.
“Still out.” Gojyo hadn’t looked in on him since he tore off the shredded clothes and wiped off the dried, crusted blood. There hadn’t been a mark on the kid - not a cut, not even the slightest scratch. He had been dead, unresponsive weight in Gojyo’s arms, and so Gojyo had made the executive decision as the last conscious (and present) member of their party to spend his energy on the bleeding youkai in the next room.
Hakkai was silent for so long that Gojyo thought he had slid back into sleep. Then, just as Gojyo was going to try and snatch some for himself, Hakkai said, “Come here, Gojyo. Please.”
Gojyo’s thighs ached from balancing on them for half the night. His hands shook from the lack of food and overload of nicotine; his chin was itchy with stubble and his eyes burned every time he caught the sun the wrong way. He wanted to lean his head back against the wall and just relax, doze off, check out.
Instead, he crushed the cigarette under his heel, stood, and crossed the room to the bed.
He had put the limiters back on himself, watched the hair trim itself and the vines shrink and skitter away, the nails recede and ears round out. Still, he thought he could still see the dark patterns on Hakkai’s fair skin, and the amber in his green eyes.
“Thank you, Gojyo,” Hakkai said, and smiled. When in doubt, smile, of course: Hakkai’s rule to live by. “That’s twice now.”
“Twice --?” he started, but then remembered Kami-sama at the last moment, and didn’t continue.
Hakkai’s hands seemed clumsier than usual when he pulled back the sheet he was lying under. Gojyo looked at him, without any idea of what he would say. Hakkai smiled again, just a touch, and then closed his eyes. The linen strips winding around his ribcage were staining red, and would have to be changed soon. Sometime.
Gojyo kicked off his boots and shrugged off his jacket and slid under the blanket next to Hakkai, unable to believe that the narrow twin could accommodate both of them. He tensed slightly when his foot brushed Hakkai’s, and then forced it away quickly. He’d shared a bed with Hakkai before; he’d shared pretty much everything with Hakkai before. His clothes, his house, his warmth in the cold. He’d done more than just share the bed, too, and just because stupid fucking Sanzo had left and Hakkai had been dead for a few minutes there and he’d had to tape him up all alone this time, no one else, just him, didn’t mean that things couldn’t be the way they’d always been.
So Gojyo flipped onto his side and Hakkai shifted to accommodate him, groaning at whatever pain accompanied his movements, and he leaned back against Gojyo and Gojyo put his arm around Hakkai’s waist.
And things were as they should have been, as they’d always been, for a little while.
Author: Ellyrianna
Fandom: Saiyuki
Pairing(s): Gojyo/Hakkai
Summary: Morning interlude after Sanzo leaves in Even a Worm.
“Gojyo.”
Hakkai’s voice was hoarse, and he coughed to clear it. Gojyo, sitting on the floor across the room, could not see what Hakkai’s face looked like. He had been chain-smoking since he’d wrestled the last of the bandages around Hakkai’s torso the night before and the bright sunlight shooting in through the uncovered window was catching unpleasantly in his gritty eyes.
The blankets on the bed rustled as Hakkai attempted to sit up. He hissed mildly in pain and dropped back down onto his back. A long moment passed in which Gojyo lit a new cigarette off of the corpse of another.
“Gojyo, has Sanzo returned?”
Even as Hakkai said it, Gojyo could feel the lack of faith behind the question. If Sanzo had returned, Hakkai would intuitively know it. He had a sense for those kinds of things; balancing of auras or whateverthefuck.
“Nope,” Gojyo said, eventually. He took a drag and, as the empty taste washed over his numb mouth, wondered why he was wasting cigarettes. It wasn’t like they were doing him any good.
Hakkai sighed almost imperceptibly from across the room. “I thought as much,” he murmured. Gojyo couldn’t see him, but he knew that Hakkai’s eyes were closing. There was something in his voice, some undercurrent of fatigue, that Gojyo had gotten so used to during their travels.
How many nights had he watched Hakkai talk himself to sleep?
“And Goku?” he asked, faintly.
“Still out.” Gojyo hadn’t looked in on him since he tore off the shredded clothes and wiped off the dried, crusted blood. There hadn’t been a mark on the kid - not a cut, not even the slightest scratch. He had been dead, unresponsive weight in Gojyo’s arms, and so Gojyo had made the executive decision as the last conscious (and present) member of their party to spend his energy on the bleeding youkai in the next room.
Hakkai was silent for so long that Gojyo thought he had slid back into sleep. Then, just as Gojyo was going to try and snatch some for himself, Hakkai said, “Come here, Gojyo. Please.”
Gojyo’s thighs ached from balancing on them for half the night. His hands shook from the lack of food and overload of nicotine; his chin was itchy with stubble and his eyes burned every time he caught the sun the wrong way. He wanted to lean his head back against the wall and just relax, doze off, check out.
Instead, he crushed the cigarette under his heel, stood, and crossed the room to the bed.
He had put the limiters back on himself, watched the hair trim itself and the vines shrink and skitter away, the nails recede and ears round out. Still, he thought he could still see the dark patterns on Hakkai’s fair skin, and the amber in his green eyes.
“Thank you, Gojyo,” Hakkai said, and smiled. When in doubt, smile, of course: Hakkai’s rule to live by. “That’s twice now.”
“Twice --?” he started, but then remembered Kami-sama at the last moment, and didn’t continue.
Hakkai’s hands seemed clumsier than usual when he pulled back the sheet he was lying under. Gojyo looked at him, without any idea of what he would say. Hakkai smiled again, just a touch, and then closed his eyes. The linen strips winding around his ribcage were staining red, and would have to be changed soon. Sometime.
Gojyo kicked off his boots and shrugged off his jacket and slid under the blanket next to Hakkai, unable to believe that the narrow twin could accommodate both of them. He tensed slightly when his foot brushed Hakkai’s, and then forced it away quickly. He’d shared a bed with Hakkai before; he’d shared pretty much everything with Hakkai before. His clothes, his house, his warmth in the cold. He’d done more than just share the bed, too, and just because stupid fucking Sanzo had left and Hakkai had been dead for a few minutes there and he’d had to tape him up all alone this time, no one else, just him, didn’t mean that things couldn’t be the way they’d always been.
So Gojyo flipped onto his side and Hakkai shifted to accommodate him, groaning at whatever pain accompanied his movements, and he leaned back against Gojyo and Gojyo put his arm around Hakkai’s waist.
And things were as they should have been, as they’d always been, for a little while.