Buried Treasure (Challenge #50, Gold; Sanzo, Gojyo; PG)
Title: Buried Treasure
Author: opalmatrix
Warnings: a swear word or two; disgusting health situation
Pairing(s): n/a
Spoilers: nothing much
Notes: written for saiyuki_time, Challenge #50, Gold; time allowed: 15 minutes; time taken: 25 minutes
Summary: Sanzo discovers something precious where he least expects it.
The sound of Jeep's engine as he carried Hakkai and Goku off on a shopping expedition had hardly faded when Sanzo abruptly lost his last meal.
"Shit!" Gojyo exclaimed. Sanzo really wished he could say something cutting, like Wrong end, moron, but he was too busy gagging and retching.
Strong arms picked him up bodily and carried him away from the nauseating smell of his own effluvia to the stream on the other side of camp. Big hands held his head gently as his stomach twisted itself to a standstill, then scooped up water for him to rinse his mouth. And when he stopped retching and started shivering, Gojyo's prized new leather jacket, still warm from his body, was wrapped around Sanzo's shoulders, heedless of the disgusting splashes on his robes.
"You ate that damn pork bun Goku saved 'specially for you, didn't you?" said Gojyo, conversationally. "Are you gonna fall into the water if I leave you here a minute?"
"'Course not," muttered Sanzo, crossly.
But he was glad all the same when Gojyo showed up again just a moment later, with a pailful of warm water and some clean rags. Wordlessly, he helped Sanzo wash off the mess, then half-carried him back to camp, got him out of his soiled clothes and into clean ones, and put him to bed.
He couldn't have been out even as much as an hour, because when he opened his eyes again, Gojyo was spreading the clean wash out to dry on various shrubs and branches at the edge of camp. Sanzo just lay there a moment, feeling a little too warm now, and it occurred to him that there was more bedding than usual both over and under him. A faint smell of kappa told him whose.
Gojyo's long hair was tied back rakishly with a bandana, his jeans were muddy at the knees, his fresh shirt hung open unbuttoned, and he was grinning to himself as he whistled tunelessly through his teeth. Altogether, he was an earthy, rough-looking, slovenly excuse for a member of a holy quest. Suddenly Sanzo wondered whether Gojyo would laugh and joke about his leader's weakness when the others returned.
And then Gojyo looked right at him. "Hey, you feeling OK now, man?" The crimson eyes were kind, and concerned.
Sanzo felt his face flush with more than the warmth of the blankets. He remembered the gentleness of those large, capable hands, now red with scrubbing; the tactful silence with which he'd helped Sanzo through the humiliating sickness; and the steady thump of Gojyo's heart under his ear.
Not earth. Gold. Pure gold.