Fic: Feeling Human
Fic: Feeling Human
Fandom: Saiyuki (Hakkai/Gojyo)
Rating: PG?
Beta: whymzycal
Notes: Written for the "socks" prompt
They were all kinds of tired when they reached the inn -- tired, hungry, and wet to the skin from the cold rain that had pelted down on them for six straight hours. Before Goku could even open his mouth to say how hungry he was, Sanzo fired a round over the monkey's head, silencing the words he was about to utter. Hakkai's mouth was a pale, thin line, and even Haruryuu kept a respectful distance when he changed back into his dragon form, flying around Hakkai's head instead of burrowing up under his shirt where it would be nice and warm. Or maybe not, as Hakkai was as dripping wet as the rest of them, his monocle fogged so that Gojyo couldn't even see the damaged eye behind it.
"Smokes," Sanzo snarled as he threw Gojyo a couple of coins. He turned and went inside without even waiting for a response or glancing back.
Stingy bastard, Gojyo thought to himself. He could have at least given me the gold card. He pulled his collar up against the cold rain and hunched his shoulders, though it did nothing to shield him from the storm as he walked down the empty street toward the brightly lit shop on the corner.
The bell over the door gave a welcoming jingle when Gojyo stepped inside. He shook his wet hair, drops of rain scattering before the wet strands stuck back to the skin on his face and neck. Fucking rain. Fucking Sanzo. He briefly considered telling Sanzo that the shop had been out of Marlboro, but then thought better of it. He had seen Sanzo put a fresh clip in his gun when they had reached the outskirts of town, and he wasn't feeling particularly spry. So instead, he got the smokes, pocketed the change, and headed to the door. He stopped short, his hand hesitating just short of the knob.
"How much?" he asked the clerk as he pointed to the package. He had just barely enough, he discovered, rooting through all of his pockets. He'd have to see if he could sit in on a game or two before they headed on their way. Hopefully that wouldn't be in the morning. Their clothes might not even be dry by then, and a damp Sanzo was a grumpy Sanzo. Hell, a dry Sanzo was a bastard, he nodded to himself.
Gojyo swore out loud when he was back out on the street, once again in the freezing rain, his parcel tucked under his jacket just in case the plastic wasn't entirely waterproof.
The look on Hakki's face was worth every minute he'd spent in the rain. In fact, he'd go back outside and sit directly in it to see another one of Hakkai's rare, genuine smiles.
There were times when it was almost impossible to feel human when you were on the road and you were tired, wet, and miserable. Sometimes all it took was a simple pair of warm, dry socks.
Yeah, Gojyo was definitely getting some tonight. He couldn't stop grinning.
Fandom: Saiyuki (Hakkai/Gojyo)
Rating: PG?
Beta: whymzycal
Notes: Written for the "socks" prompt
They were all kinds of tired when they reached the inn -- tired, hungry, and wet to the skin from the cold rain that had pelted down on them for six straight hours. Before Goku could even open his mouth to say how hungry he was, Sanzo fired a round over the monkey's head, silencing the words he was about to utter. Hakkai's mouth was a pale, thin line, and even Haruryuu kept a respectful distance when he changed back into his dragon form, flying around Hakkai's head instead of burrowing up under his shirt where it would be nice and warm. Or maybe not, as Hakkai was as dripping wet as the rest of them, his monocle fogged so that Gojyo couldn't even see the damaged eye behind it.
"Smokes," Sanzo snarled as he threw Gojyo a couple of coins. He turned and went inside without even waiting for a response or glancing back.
Stingy bastard, Gojyo thought to himself. He could have at least given me the gold card. He pulled his collar up against the cold rain and hunched his shoulders, though it did nothing to shield him from the storm as he walked down the empty street toward the brightly lit shop on the corner.
The bell over the door gave a welcoming jingle when Gojyo stepped inside. He shook his wet hair, drops of rain scattering before the wet strands stuck back to the skin on his face and neck. Fucking rain. Fucking Sanzo. He briefly considered telling Sanzo that the shop had been out of Marlboro, but then thought better of it. He had seen Sanzo put a fresh clip in his gun when they had reached the outskirts of town, and he wasn't feeling particularly spry. So instead, he got the smokes, pocketed the change, and headed to the door. He stopped short, his hand hesitating just short of the knob.
"How much?" he asked the clerk as he pointed to the package. He had just barely enough, he discovered, rooting through all of his pockets. He'd have to see if he could sit in on a game or two before they headed on their way. Hopefully that wouldn't be in the morning. Their clothes might not even be dry by then, and a damp Sanzo was a grumpy Sanzo. Hell, a dry Sanzo was a bastard, he nodded to himself.
Gojyo swore out loud when he was back out on the street, once again in the freezing rain, his parcel tucked under his jacket just in case the plastic wasn't entirely waterproof.
The look on Hakki's face was worth every minute he'd spent in the rain. In fact, he'd go back outside and sit directly in it to see another one of Hakkai's rare, genuine smiles.
There were times when it was almost impossible to feel human when you were on the road and you were tired, wet, and miserable. Sometimes all it took was a simple pair of warm, dry socks.
Yeah, Gojyo was definitely getting some tonight. He couldn't stop grinning.