FIC, FIC, FIC!!! (Saiyuki)
Holy shit, it's been more than a year since I last wrote a Saiyuki fanfic! Well, except for one comment fic, if I remember correctly, but still. And it's not a especially bright ficlet that I bring you today, but you know what I think of less than wonderful fanworks. Soooo:
Title: Back
Author: Lauand
Beta: Avierra
Rating: PG-13
Summary: What goes up must come down. On rare occasions, something similar happens to what goes away.
A/N: My most humble thanks (eternal gratitude, rather) to my beta for her work. I touched this last and improvised the heading, though, so any remaining mistake is, of course, only mine.
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Today, he was going home alone. It was raining. It sort of reminded him of that other time, so many years ago... nobody had commented on his hair tonight, though. And nobody was lying on the road, bleeding to death, either. But still, the thought that living was sickeningly easy remained. Because it was.
He couldn't remember exactly why he had said he had to leave. He had missed the girls, missed the variety. Missed the good life. Women, cards, booze... living at night, sleeping all day, doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted...
He still thought it had been the right decision, back then. He could remember the feel of Xue Lin's soft skin from the other night. And the warmth of Mei Mei's, the night before that. Or the rounded, perfect ass of Xiao Zhu last week. Because if nothing else, Gojyo could really appreciate sensuality. The sweet and the dirty, it was all bliss for him. He fed on that.
He had known Hakkai wasn't the sharing kind. The guy couldn't help it, and that was fine, really. It was just how he was. Their relationship had been all about acceptance, after all. But it was difficult to find a compromise when your own way sort of clashed with that. It had... suffocated him. At that time, that wasn't what he wanted. Not that he had ever been good at knowing what it was he looked for, but he had known it hadn't been that. It wasn't as if they had been dating and stuff. The sole idea was ludicrous. No, everything had been because of the journey. Well, maybe there had been some subconscious flirting before that. But the sex, that had happened on the road, more out of desperation than anything else. So, when they came back and the “need” was gone... could there be “want”? Not at that price, Gojyo had thought. Hakkai couldn't help being possessive, just as Gojyo couldn't help being wild. He had missed the girls, missed the variety. Missed the good life. Women, cards, booze...
But now... now he missed Hakkai.
He wondered if there could really be some balance in this world, if that Buddhist shit about letting go was actually possible. Not that Sanzo had ever looked as if he were anywhere near Nirvana.
Drenched to the bone, wet cigarette dangling from his lips, Gojyo sighed.
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It wasn't as if he didn't know where the other three were. He had just decided to keep his distance. Make everything easier for everybody.
He had never been to Hakkai's new place. He hadn't known what his house would look like. But his imagination hadn't strayed too far from reality, it seemed. There were potted plants in the porch. The walls were impeccably painted in white. For one second, Gojyo stood horrified, thinking that maybe Hakkai had gotten married and was working on building that army of girls he had wanted so badly.
His finger froze midway towards the doorbell. He shouldn't have come. He was stupid. He was a nuisance. He was too late.
He was a coward.
Narrowing his eyes, he tried again.
After all the nerves and fretting and doubts and second thoughts, it had been rather anti-climactic that nobody answered the door. Gojyo wasn't looking forward to repeating the process all over again tomorrow.
“Kyuuu!”
It had been faint but unmistakable. With the ghost of a smile on his lips, Gojyo stepped out of the porch and went to the back of the house.
Hakkai hadn't seemed surprised to see him. He hadn't seemed anything. It was actually kind of weird that he schooled his reactions so sternly around him. Maybe it hurt a little bit. He had just looked up, stopped gardening, and then looked down and kept on gardening.
Suddenly, Gojyo thought that it was infinitely better than a false smile and a “Hi, Gojyo, how have you been?” Hakkai was still pissed. After all these years. Hakkai still cared.
Gojyo walked to where Hakkai was kneeling, putting the utmost care in not treading on any... were those tomatoes? Well, not yet, obviously. He had never been able to remember what plants looked like when they were actually plants and not things you kept in the fridge.
“I can't forget you,” he said, after several minutes of standing there, watching Hakkai work under the sun.
Hakkai didn't raise his covered head or stop working. Gojyo waited. He knew sometimes Hakkai liked to take his time. Not because he needed it, but because he usually thought his counterpart did. Hakkai was mostly right about things, so Gojyo didn't rush him.
“Well,” Hakkai finally said, voice as calm as the hands handling the little shovel, “you don't have to.”
It had sounded like a 'you can live with the knowledge that you had intercourse with me'. A casually thrown suggestion that, for Gojyo, the truly unforgettable thing had been the mistake of sleeping with a man, or sleeping with a friend, or sleeping with Hakkai, or any random combination of the three. In the past. A finished action. Because mistakes weren't meant to be repeated.
Gojyo struggled for words.
“I think I love you.”
At that, Hakkai certainly paused. He was wearing a threadbare grass-woven hat. If a grass-woven hat could be said to be threadbare, that is.
“If you want to settle down, it doesn't have to be me.”
He was still not looking up. Gojyo hated it when Hakkai chose to be difficult. He frowned.
“It's not about settling down, and it has to be you.”
Finally, Hakkai raised his gaze and stared at him, pondering, saying nothing. Gojyo decided that it was better to go back home and give the guy time to think, to let him spin the thing in his washing-machine of a head, in loop mode, until the thoughts came out clean, and crisp, and wrung dry.
“You're not going to invite me to a cup of tea?” was what he said instead, because Gojyo didn't always end up doing what he decided.
Hakkai redirected his gaze toward the plants, thinking nearly audibly. Probably a couple of minutes passed. He knew Gojyo didn't like tea. Gojyo was starting to lose his patience, but he suspected that the wait was part of his punishment, so he just sucked it up and stood there.
“I'm dirty.”
Gojyo rolled his eyes.
“Hakkai...”
Hakkai chuckled. The thought crossed Gojyo's mind that it hadn't even been purposeful, that Hakkai was seriously worried about the literal dirt. As if they hadn't eaten and drunk caked in sweat, blood and entrails in the past.
Finally, Hakkai rose up, shook off part of the dirt, and headed to the house. Gojyo followed him.
“You've taken your sweet time...” murmured Hakkai, absentmindedly.
It had sounded a bit chastising. It made Gojyo feel the urge to go ahead and kiss him. But he held back. This time.
Together, they walked to the house.
Also posted at http://lauand.dreamwidth.org/98403.html, if you'd rather read it there or want to enter a discussion with
comments.