by nekojita


Disclaimer:  *massive sigh*  Yet another set of pretty boys that I don't own.  Still gonna play with them, though.


They made their way upstairs, Sanzo in the lead as always, Hakkai seemingly meekly following behind. Their companions were left in the innís dining room, Goku gluttonously feeding himself, Gojyo working his way through a bottle of wine and the female wait staff, searching for one who would be up for a little fun that night with a stranger. Sanzo and Hakkai had decided that they werenít in the mood to watch the usual antics and had announced that they would be retiring for the evening.

They were sharing a room that night, a normal happenstance when the roadside inns werenít too crowded. Once through the door the priest whirled around, pressing his companion against the wall, slamming the door shut and locking it. Hakkai wasnít stunned by this action, had instead hoped it would come to this when Sanzo had snarled at the other two, proclaiming them seven types of idiots and that he was sick of their presence. And that he was off to a quiet bed, violet eyes shifting over to meet green for a second as the words were spoken. It often came to this when the two of them didnít share a room with the others, Sanzo getting him alone and shoving him against some surface or another; a bed, a wall, a desk, whatever would suffice at the moment. A hot mouth was assaulting his, teeth pressing brutally against his lips, biting into them with savage intent as ivory fingers tore off his clothes. A lean body holding him fast again the wall, preventing any struggles or attempts to escape. Which of course the brunet would never try to do.

Not that Hakkai didnít react to the actions. His hands were just as frantic to remove the barrier that a robe, jeans and leather top provided, his mouth working just as harsh against the blondís. There was nothing gentle about this act, never had been since it started one day long ago in the temple that Cho Hakkai had been born, and there never would be. This wasnít about love or lust or pleasure, nor even pain or hate, it was done as an attempt at absolution. A way to pay for past sins, to wash the stain away.

As sharp teeth bit into his exposed collarbone, breaking the delicate skin, the green-eyed man let out a sound that was half pain, half bliss. Sanzo apparently was in a rough mood tonight, and his partner didnít have any problem with that. It had rained the previous evening, all four travelers forced to share the same room in a cramped inn. Now was the time to burn away the guilty emotions that such a night provoked from them; this is how they would wash away their shame.

Hakkai was lost in thoughts almost as much as the escalating passion itself; he sincerely hoped that things would soon reach the point that his brain would shut down and all he could do was feel. There were times that he hated the intellectual nature that had him mentally analyzing everything about him. That kept the demons front and center. Even as he stroked Sanzoís erection, earning another painful bite on his neck as the other man tried to stifle a moan, all he could think of was the not so secret horrors that spurred the four of them on. Gokuís endless appetite, trying in vain to fill the infinite emptiness that came from spending 500 years alone, knowing that there was no one anywhere that cared for him. The endless seductions that Gojyo participated in, trying to compensate for the one woman who didnít love him by making as many as he could at least want him, even if for just a few hours. And Sanzo, holding the world at bay, distant and vicious, brutally yanking him away from the wall and shoving him on the bed, acting more like a rapist than a friend or lover. The priest was trying so hard to prove that he was not worth the sacrifice that his beloved mentor had made for him that one rainy night. As if by being so tainted and unworthy the man would come back to life, if only to take back the title that he had bestowed before his death.

In the few seconds that he was pushed face down on the bed and Sanzo settled on top of him, Hakkai reflected that they all had their voids, so eager to be filled. His was Kananís absence, the sweet lover forever gone from his grasp. He had failed her, not been there while she was abused and defiled, had stood by helplessly as she killed herself in shame. That was why in part he submitted to this, a disturbed tribute to the pain the woman had gone through, a way to atone for his sins. That it could make him forget, for a few precious seconds at least, and Sanzo as well, was another reason.

Something hard nestling between his buttocks, straining at his entrance, broke the brunetís train of thought. A rasped "mine" was all he had to warn him as Sanzo shoved forcibly into his body. Biting down on the cover, Hakkai stifled a scream. It was always like this, no preparation, no lube besides the blood that quickly started to flow. Sanzo laying claim to his body, the form that the priest owned, just like the cigarettes and gun and fan. But not Hakkai himself, that would have been too much for both of them to take, just the pale body spread out on the bed. And the youkai gave that body willingly, it was just flesh after all, and he had proved a thousand times over just how worthless flesh could be. So he allowed Sanzo ownership in return for these few moments of not-thinking.

The pain kept building, coloring his thoughts red until there was nothing else, at least until grabbing hands shifted him for better penetration. Then pleasure mingled with the agony, stars bursting against the crimson, the world narrowing down to those two sensations alone. As if from a distant he heard a voice begging for more, harder, deeper, faster as he squirmed backwards. There was an answering grunt, a hand clenching tight around his shaft, pulling harshly as a mouth took to devouring his neck, more bites and bruises marring the pale skin. Time seemed to still, suspended for a few precious moments as Sanzo continued to pound into him, the aching void inside his chest filled just as surely as his body was. Blood and pain and pleasure making his sins fade away. Then it came crashing down in bliss, causing Hakkai cry out in loss and pleasure as his body betrayed him.

Sanzo soon followed, again biting into the green-eyed manís flesh, as if stifling the cry meant that he had taken no true pleasure in this. That would have signified a weakness of some sort, wouldnít it? And Hakkai knew that the priest hated weakness almost as much as he detested attachments of any sort, it was just something else that could be used against him.

He quietly laid there as the pain eroded at the last of the pleasure, the various bites and scratches and torn flesh making their presence known. It was just as welcome as the bliss, maybe more so since one felt no guilt over the hurt. The blond rested his head against Hakkaiís back a moment, the only acknowledgement or thanks that he would receive, before swiftly pulling out and off the bed. The cold shield was back on Sanzoís face as he claimed with a sniff that the room smelled and opened the window. Then he grabbed his smokes and a robe, intent on washing all signs of the past several minutes off of his skin. And wouldnít return until he knew that Hakkai had cleaned the room and himself as well.

Lying on the bed for a moment, gathering the strength to heal himself, Hakkai was tempted to just let the wounds remain. He was not ashamed of them, but took pride in them in an odd fashion. Another night of atonement was done. Absolution had been achieved, if only for a few fleeting seconds. But if he wasnít healed then he might fail his companions at a critical moment, and wouldnít be up for the required drive in the morning. So he focused his chi until the most pressing injuries were taken care of, leaving a few of the bruises and bites that his clothes would cover. They were something that he could pick at during the long drive, a distraction of pain when his thoughts grew too heavy. The brunet then rose from the bed, quickly stripping the soiled cover and remaking it, taking it and himself to the washroom. Once more guilt weighed heavy on his soul. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, wake up and find that it was a new day. And wait for night to come around again, along with its brief moment of forgiveness.



Return to Archive