Title: New Life
Advent No. 4
Prompt: Sanzo/Hakkai
Requested by:
seshats_prodigy Notes: This one kicked my ass up and down the room. Seems like Sanzo doesn't even want to be written without a fight!
Disclaimer: Not mine! Just playing with them. I make no money from this and mean only to help spread christmassy joy. Don't sue, or Santa will leave you coal!
“Che. Where the hell were you?”
Hakkai snaps out of his thought abruptly, glancing down at the vision tangled in his sheets; toned muscles glitter in the harsh light from the bare bulb, the crown of golden hair still mussed and sweaty from the latest instalment of their arrangement - he looks more like a fallen angel or perhaps a male succubus from his old religion. From the way Sanzo’s looking at him, he could probably distract the monk from his question entirely in a second round. Unless his mind started wandering again, in which case he would be a dead man. Mind melting as sex with Sanzo could often be, he had no urge to die by the monk’s hand tonight, so he pulls his stock smile into place and hopes that he buys it.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Sanzo.”
“Don’t pull that shit with me, Hakkai. It might work on the Kappa, but I can see the edges of your mask.” Even naked and freshly fucked, Sanzo is still Sanzo; the smile becomes a little more real and a lot less polite, earning a short nod from the monk. “So?”
“I apologise if I was a little more... distant than usual. I certainly didn’t want it to affect your experience.” His voice was soft in the room, perfectly modulated that anyone walking by wouldn’t be able to discern his words. Neither of them wants the rest of the ikkou to find out about the arrangement. “It’s simply the season. It... brings back memories I had thought lost with Gonou.”
Click. Fwoosh. The scent of smoke starts mixing with the strong smell of sex and the tang of blood. There’s always blood, because Hakkai can’t be gentle and Sanzo only goes down (on the battlefield or in the bedroom) fighting every step of the way. The healer always fixes them up again before morning. He can feel the sloped violet eyes on him, transmitting their annoyance better than any radio tower even as their owner shifts.
“What kind of memories?” A begrudging mumble that sends the first ashes to the sheets. Hakkai notes that at least the washer women will have an extra warning that the sheets are stained, and doesn’t have to say anything for the blonde to reach for the half-full ashtray.
“Not bad memories, for a change of pace. Of christmas time in the orphanage.” There’s no reply, but a brief glance shows that Sanzo is sitting cross-legged against the headboard with the ashtray in-between his knees. Really listening, like Gojyo always is. “I never cared much for the other children, but I liked the snow. And the decorations. And the stories. But I particularly loved the songs. The nuns there had a choir, you know, and they’d let me listen to them practicing in the back of the hall. Those women were harridans, but they sang like angels.”
Silence reigns long enough for Sanzo to finish his cigarette and light another, while Hakkai stares out at the night in silence, never moving a muscle except those needed to breathe and blink.
“You’re not Gonou anymore.” The words are harsh, like a slap, but Hakkai only twitches in reaction. There’s no denying the truth. “But if it is that you do just want a little more... festivity,” He says it like it tastes bad, twisting thin lips into an ugly line, “In your festive season then that’s fine. Just don’t let him creep into your new life.”
“Ah hahaha, I don’t think that would be appropriate. Thank you for the thought Sanzo, but I dread to think what Gojyo and Goku might do with tinsel or popcorn strings, don’t you?”
If Sanzo looks simultaneously relived and disgusted he doesn’t acknowledge it, and Hakkai never mentions it. He does think of it occasionally while they drive though, and it always gives him an unexplainable smile.