Saiyuki drabble
“How are you feeling, Sanzo?”
Like I want to die, he thought, coughing, and he had to grit his teeth against the sudden rise of bile. He felt blindly for the bowl Goku had given him earlier, just in case, and it was still resting just where he’d put it.
“Like shit,” he said instead, once he was certain he could talk without vomiting. “How are...the others?” he grunted weakly, not because he was concerned for their well being or anything, but because he didn’t need them recovering more slowly than him. As soon as he was better, they’d be out on the road again.
“Getting better,” Goku told him, and the remark was followed by the pleasant coolness of calloused hands on his face. “--Better than you, Sanzo, you’re still burning up.”
“And whose fault is that?” he groused, Goku was the one who insisted they eat at that sketchy restaurant, but when the brunet moved to pull his hands away, Sanzo held them there.
“Don’t go. ...It’s boring as hell laying here, and I’m too goddamn uncomfortable to fall asleep,” he added, just in case the monkey was entertaining any stupid ideas that Sanzo wanted him there for comfort’s sake.
“Okay,” Goku agreed, and he settled himself more comfortably beside the monk’s futon. He brushed his fingertips over Sanzo’s flushed, clammy skin, tracing the contours of his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose and his temples, smoothing the slight sheen of sweat from Sanzo’s brow, and when the man sighed, he smiled.
“I’ll kill you as soon as I can move,” Sanzo promised quietly, several moments later. “You and your iron-clad stomach. (Did you bring any water?)”
Slipping an arm beneath his shoulders, Goku helped him sit up, and Sanzo took a few small sips of blissfully cold water from the glass he’d been handed, not trusting himself to keep anything more down.
Afterwards, with a begrudging grunt of thanks, he allowed the brunet to rearrange him against the pillows. Goku was being amazingly subdued, probably because he (rightfully) blamed himself for his friends’ illness, and while there were times when Sanzo would have killed to have the boy so quiet, it wasn’t doing a thing for his boredom.
“That time you and Gojyo went into town together for the Matsuri festival and didn’t come back until nearly morning. And you two had those bags full of food and trinkets and crap you refused to show me and Hakkai--tell me about it.”
“What?” Goku asked, sounding surprised and a little embarrassed, which only solidified in Sanzo’s mind that they had indeed gotten up to something--or several somethings--that night which would probably earn them worse than a few whaps with the fan or their whites ‘accidentally’ washed with their reds, were he and Hakkai to know the whole story.
“But that was, like, months ago,” the boy protested, “and it’s a really long story, besides...” And he was hedging now, a fact which was enough to make the corner of Sanzo’s mouth twitch despite his current misery, and he finally opened his eyes to pin the younger male with a mildly threatening glare.
“So then the statute of limitation on whatever you did has probably run out. And I don’t intend to stay awake for the whole thing, anyway.”
Goku was reluctant at first, so Sanzo held his wrist to make sure he wouldn’t run off on some lame pretext, but once he got started, the story began to bubble up out of him. He didn’t catch the whole thing, but it was Goku and Gojyo, so part of it had to do with food and girls, of course.
He hardly noticed he’d loosened his grip on Goku’s wrist until the strong, blunt fingers began to comb through his hair as Goku talked, but it gave him something to concentrate on--along with the sound of Goku’s voice--other than how shitty he was feeling, so he figured he’d allow it, just this once.
~*~*~
jplsdkp I need to get to work on some more substantial stuff... D:
Like I want to die, he thought, coughing, and he had to grit his teeth against the sudden rise of bile. He felt blindly for the bowl Goku had given him earlier, just in case, and it was still resting just where he’d put it.
“Like shit,” he said instead, once he was certain he could talk without vomiting. “How are...the others?” he grunted weakly, not because he was concerned for their well being or anything, but because he didn’t need them recovering more slowly than him. As soon as he was better, they’d be out on the road again.
“Getting better,” Goku told him, and the remark was followed by the pleasant coolness of calloused hands on his face. “--Better than you, Sanzo, you’re still burning up.”
“And whose fault is that?” he groused, Goku was the one who insisted they eat at that sketchy restaurant, but when the brunet moved to pull his hands away, Sanzo held them there.
“Don’t go. ...It’s boring as hell laying here, and I’m too goddamn uncomfortable to fall asleep,” he added, just in case the monkey was entertaining any stupid ideas that Sanzo wanted him there for comfort’s sake.
“Okay,” Goku agreed, and he settled himself more comfortably beside the monk’s futon. He brushed his fingertips over Sanzo’s flushed, clammy skin, tracing the contours of his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose and his temples, smoothing the slight sheen of sweat from Sanzo’s brow, and when the man sighed, he smiled.
“I’ll kill you as soon as I can move,” Sanzo promised quietly, several moments later. “You and your iron-clad stomach. (Did you bring any water?)”
Slipping an arm beneath his shoulders, Goku helped him sit up, and Sanzo took a few small sips of blissfully cold water from the glass he’d been handed, not trusting himself to keep anything more down.
Afterwards, with a begrudging grunt of thanks, he allowed the brunet to rearrange him against the pillows. Goku was being amazingly subdued, probably because he (rightfully) blamed himself for his friends’ illness, and while there were times when Sanzo would have killed to have the boy so quiet, it wasn’t doing a thing for his boredom.
“That time you and Gojyo went into town together for the Matsuri festival and didn’t come back until nearly morning. And you two had those bags full of food and trinkets and crap you refused to show me and Hakkai--tell me about it.”
“What?” Goku asked, sounding surprised and a little embarrassed, which only solidified in Sanzo’s mind that they had indeed gotten up to something--or several somethings--that night which would probably earn them worse than a few whaps with the fan or their whites ‘accidentally’ washed with their reds, were he and Hakkai to know the whole story.
“But that was, like, months ago,” the boy protested, “and it’s a really long story, besides...” And he was hedging now, a fact which was enough to make the corner of Sanzo’s mouth twitch despite his current misery, and he finally opened his eyes to pin the younger male with a mildly threatening glare.
“So then the statute of limitation on whatever you did has probably run out. And I don’t intend to stay awake for the whole thing, anyway.”
Goku was reluctant at first, so Sanzo held his wrist to make sure he wouldn’t run off on some lame pretext, but once he got started, the story began to bubble up out of him. He didn’t catch the whole thing, but it was Goku and Gojyo, so part of it had to do with food and girls, of course.
He hardly noticed he’d loosened his grip on Goku’s wrist until the strong, blunt fingers began to comb through his hair as Goku talked, but it gave him something to concentrate on--along with the sound of Goku’s voice--other than how shitty he was feeling, so he figured he’d allow it, just this once.
~*~*~
jplsdkp I need to get to work on some more substantial stuff... D: