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Title: Compromise, Compassion, and the Windows
to the Soul
Author:
sharpeslass
Rating: NC-l7
Pairing: Hakkai/Yaone
Summary: Hakkai tries to forge an alliance. Prompt: Tenderness.
Author's notes: Written for
seshats_prodigy
in the
valentine_smut
exchange. The under-3,000 word limit made this one tough! But I’ve always wanted
to write this pairing, so a big “thanks!” to the requestor. Thanks also to my
wonderful beta
jedishampoo, and
to
rroselavy for
organizing the exchange.
Compromise, Compassion, and the Windows to the Soul
“I’m not asking you to betray Kougaiji,” explained Hakkai. “I’m asking you to
help him, to help all of us, really.”
Things were already going better than Hakkai had dared hope they might. There
had been a brief struggle, but Hakkai really couldn’t blame Yaone for panicking
at finding an uninvited man waiting for her in her fifth-story bedroom; she had
obviously expected Houtou Castle’s security to be a bit tighter. However, she
had quickly calmed when she’d recognized Hakkai. She’d even poured them both
drinks (though Hakkai did keep an eye on her during the process; she was an
alchemist, after all). Most importantly, she had agreed to hear him out: Hakkai
was there in the name of truce, in the name of forging an alliance that neither
side was convinced it wanted or needed, but one that Hakkai was certain was
essential to a happy outcome for all of them. He’d come alone-- indeed without
Sanzo’s permission or knowledge-- and he’d come to seek out the one person at
Houtou who he thought might be capable of understanding his reasoning.
As he’d suspected, Yaone’s blind loyalty to Kougaiji was proving to be a
sticking point. Hakkai slid from where he was seated beside Yaone on the bed to
kneel before her. Taking her glass and setting it on the nightstand, he grasped
both of her small hands firmly, but gently, in his own. “You have to realize
that we all have a common enemy in Ni and Gyokumen Koushu.” Yaone just stared at
the hands that held hers.
“It doesn’t matter that I realize it,” she said quietly. “My only truth is Lord
Kougaiji’s truth.”
In spite of himself, Hakkai tried to envision anyone in his own party saying
such a thing in relation to Sanzo. With some effort, he managed to keep his
laughter to himself. “Then help me to persuade him that our truths are the same,
Yaone.”
Yaone looked at him then, her eyes wide and frightened. He gave her hands a
gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure her that he was in control-- that he knew
what he was doing. It must have worked, because the fear in her eyes faded
slightly and her expression became resolute.
“I will, Hakkai-san,” she promised. “I will help you as much as I can. And
Kougaiji will listen to you. He is a fair man.” Here Hakkai felt she was trying
to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince him. Hakkai was sure
that Kougaiji had many wonderful qualities but, so far, patience and a
willingness to listen to anything anyone affiliated with Sanzo had to say had
not manifested themselves among those qualities. He did not voice this opinion,
just nodded gravely. “But after he does,” Yaone continued. “If he says I must
kill you, I will.” Hakkai smiled in spite of himself.
“I don’t believe that,” he said. Yaone simply shrugged, so he continued. “We’ve
never fought to kill.” It probably didn’t need to be said, but it was there and
it was a part of this-- a strong representation of what he was trying to
accomplish, evidence of a unity that no one except himself seemed willing to
admit existed. He had hoped Yaone would acknowledge that unity, but...
“There’s always a first time,” she said.
“I could never hurt you, Yaone,” Hakkai said truthfully.
Yaone looked distressed at the idea. She pulled her hands from Hakkai’s and
rose. He stood, turning to track her as she moved to stand in front of one of
the room’s large windows, arms crossed over her ample chest. Hakkai chided
himself for noticing her chest at all, and forced his gaze up to her face, its
anxious expression reflected in the dark, rain-splashed window. “That will make
it harder for me to kill you.”
Hakkai laughed out loud at that. “I can pretty much assure you that it won’t,”
he replied.
She turned to face him and he was pleased to see a small smile tugging at the
corners of her lovely, full lips. “You are very confident in your abilities,
Hakkai-san,” she mused aloud.
“Have I ever given you a reason to believe I shouldn’t be?” he replied as he
moved to face her. From the window, the rain reflected onto her face, haunting
her features with ghost tears. Hakkai was horrified to realize he was fighting
not to reach out and trace the running reflections with his fingertips. He
wanted very badly to touch her and wondered, in spite of himself, if she would
mind if he did.
“I suppose not,” she answered. Hakkai struggled to remember the question. “You
are very skilled.”
Hakkai backtracked quickly, trying to find the beginning of the conversation
under the layer of fantasy his subconscious mind was trying to lay down as
background rhythm.
“At fighting,” he remembered. “Yes.”
“And at loving?”
Had she actually said that? “Excuse me?” he murmured, fixing his eyes on
hers. A flash of lightning lit the room and she broke the gaze, casting her eyes
downward.
“Forgive me,” she stammered. She gave an awkward little laugh and started to
move away, but Hakkai stilled her by placing a hand on her shoulder. The outfit
she was wearing left her arms bare and Hakkai was astonished by the smooth
warmth of her skin beneath his palm. His thumb stroked up, just once; a casual
caress, easy to miss. But she didn’t miss it. Yaone shuddered slightly and he
dropped his hand, thoroughly appalled at his own behavior.
“No need,” he said allowing a smile. “You should know the man you are planning
to kill, after all.” Yaone leaned back against the wall next to the window and
looked at Hakkai expectantly. “At loving?” he repeated her question, searching
for an answer. He settled uneasily on honesty. “I thought so, once. But perhaps
not. I loved tremendously, but it was still not enough.”
Apparently she knew his story as well as he knew hers. Sympathy ghosted across
Yaone’s face and Hakkai wasn’t sure he wanted it. She reached out and stroked a
soft palm against his cheek and for a moment he was certain he did.
“Forgive me for saying so,” she said. “But that was her weakness, not yours.”
He felt a flare of anger and his smile slid quickly into place to mask the
emotion. He didn’t even need to call on that smile anymore; it came when
needed-- reflexively.
“This coming from someone who was willing to end her own life for so much less?”
The smile felt as sharp as his words... cutting into his face with its cruel
edges. A direct hit, of course. Yaone dropped her hand, looking for a moment
like she’d been slapped. The hurt expression yielded to a guarded one.
“Don’t be unkind,” she said softly. “That was a different me. But perhaps you
can’t understand that.”
Hakkai dropped his hurting smile. “More than you know,” he said simply.
“Then you should be more tender where you tread.”
“Yes,” Hakkai agreed. He offered her another smile. This one was real, but, he
suspected, rather sad. Yaone matched it and again Hakkai was fighting the urge
to reach for her, to touch that sad smile with his lips.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hakkai-san,” she whispered, sounding slightly
frightened... Hakkai ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration.
He was off-track. So far off-track. They should go find Kougaiji. He should do
what he was Here to Do and get back to the others before they woke up and
realized he was gone. Yaone was helping him. Her cooperation might mean the
difference between life and death for two groups of people who did not deserve
to die. What she didn’t deserve as thanks was to be leered at or groped. Had she
evaded that fate at the hands of Hyakugan Maoh only to be subjected to it by
someone claiming to be a friend?
“Forgive me,” he said levelly.
“Why is it that no one seems to realize the power of a look?” Yaone said, a
slight edge of something Hakkai couldn’t identify in her voice. Her eyes were
shining and her lips were parted. Though the light was dim, she was giving off a
distinctly flushed aura. “When I look in the mirror, I see someone so
ordinary,” Yaone continued. Hakkai briefly wondered what sort of mirror she was
using and then forced himself to focus on her words. “I stay with Kou because
when he looks at me, I’m something more.” Hakkai nodded, understanding, seeing
himself for a moment through red eyes that looked deeply and didn’t see a sinner
or a psychopath. “I become what they see,” Yaone continued emphatically.
“To Lirin, I’m sometimes a mother. To Doku, a sister. To all of them, a good
person.” Again Hakkai nodded, thinking about the eyes that watched him daily
and what they made him by just believing. “But never a woman, Hakkai-san,” she
continued. “That’s what I see in your eyes.”
Now she was certainly blushing. She pressed a palm against her lips, as if to
catch more words before they spilled out. Hakkai moved close again, taking the
censuring hand in his own.
“It’s what you are, Yaone: a beautiful woman. You must know that?”
Yaone shook her head, then ducked it slightly so that her hair swung forward
partially obscuring her features.
“Only when you look at me.”
Without his permission, Hakkai’s hands pushed thick, silky, black hair away from
her flushed cheeks-- feeling their heat against the tips of his fingers. “You
asked me not to,” he reminded her. But his still-bold hands continued their
work; one rested again on that naked, naked shoulder, the other slid beneath her
chin, tilting her face up, suddenly not ashamed of the hunger that he knew she
saw in his eyes.
“I don’t think I remember how to be a woman,” Yaone said.
“Yaone,” he whispered, as he leaned in. “May I remind you?”
And then Hakkai saw the hunger in her eyes and it had been a long, long
time since anyone had looked at him that way.
“I think I would like that,” she said and, though he was certain he hadn’t
moved, Yaone’s lips were pressed against his own, her arms twined around his
neck, her fingers in his hair.
He had no resistance against this. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her
and pulled her close. He felt the soft press of her full, beautiful curves
against him as their tongues tangled and thrust. His hands roamed her body,
coming to rest on her rounded backside, fingers grasping at her and pushing her
tightly against him. When her pelvis connected with his erection, he gasped in
pleasure at the contact.
The feel of soft, warm woman in his arms was overwhelming. Floodgates holding
back painful memories seemed for a moment to be threatening to breach, but, as
Hakkai kissed Yaone, a small moan escaped her. It was a sound that sent tremors
down his spine, but it was utterly unlike the sounds made by Kanan. Yaone’s
scent was different too, fragrant with exotic spices, where Kanan had smelled of
the flowers that had grown near their home.
His fingers fumbled with the ties and fastenings on Yaone’s somewhat mystifying
clothing as her own hands deftly unfastened his tunic. She had Hakkai stripped
to the waist by the time he had managed to undo the large bow at her back-- a
bow that, as it turned out, was completely ornamental.
His consternation must have shown in his face, because Yaone laughed and pulled
away. He smiled at the delight in the sound and slid onto the bed to watch while
Yaone made short work of the clasps, buttons, ties, and-- for gods’ sake--
chains that held her scanty ensemble in place over her firm, rounded flesh.
Hakkai was rendered speechless as Yaone and her beautiful nakedness moved toward
him, climbing up onto the bed and into his waiting arms. A few kisses and she
slid away from him, wriggling down and easily divesting him of shoes, socks,
trousers and underwear.
Hakkai took a deep, shaky breath as Yaone studied him, stroking light palms over
his chest, abdomen and thighs, smiling to herself as her eyes followed her
maddening fingers. Hakkai’s wanting was too excruciating to leave room for
self-consciousness. He focused every effort on just remaining still, fearing
that if he eased up on that effort, he would end up leaping onto her like some
kind of sex-crazed kappa. He was trembling by the time she lay down beside him.
“Tease,” he accused softly as he rolled onto her, barely able to speak for the
tingling that the slide of skin on skin was producing in him. She smiled up at
him and he felt like he was drowning in her trust-filled, heated gaze.
“Hello,” she said lightly and wriggled beneath him, smiling at the strangled
noise he made in response.
“I think I came here for a reason,” he said, dizzily, between kisses.
“Perhaps this was it.”
“Yes, I think it must have been.” Hakkai kissed her again and their limbs
tangled as they stroked at and clung to one another. Yaone’s legs were spread
and his penis was pressing at her entrance before Hakkai had even made a
conscious effort to bring their bodies into alignment. Too fast... Too
soon...
With considerable effort, he pulled himself quickly up and off of Yaone,
kneeling between her legs and looking down at her. He was breathing hard and
nearly trembling with holding himself in check. Nonetheless, he eagerly drank in
the sight of her, spread and willing and utterly his for the taking. Yaone’s
skin actually shone in the half-light. Her lips were parted and her face
flushed. She reached out for him, her eyes wide with worry.
“Don’t you want me, Hakkai-san?” she asked.
“I want you too much, Yaone,” he whispered. “I’m afraid I might hurt you.”
Her mouth curved in a relieved smile and she reached for him.
“Don’t worry. You won’t. I want you too much as well.” She blushed while
speaking, but nonetheless guided one of his hands down to show him the proof of
her words. Hakkai groaned aloud when his fingers skimmed her wetness and he,
almost instinctively, sank them in more deeply, loving the silky feel of her. He
watched as her eyelids fluttered shut and she moved into his touch, moaning his
name. “Hakkai!”
It had been so long since anyone had called to him in that sort of voice, and
never by that name. He was trembling in earnest now, his rigid penis twitching
and dripping, as he found her clitoris with shaking fingers and stroked softly
against it, watching Yaone closely as she fisted a small hand and brought it to
her mouth, muffling her own soft cries. He slid two digits deep into her
enticing warmth and let his thumb continue the manipulation of sensitive flesh
as he brought his free hand up to circle around her own.
“Let me hear you then,” he said. She smiled again and, as he released her hand,
she curled her fingers around his hardness, causing him to jerk his hips forward
and swear loudly. It was his turn to blush now, embarrassed by the expletive.
“Forgive me,” he gasped. “I think I’ve been in the company of men for too long.”
“I’ve heard worse,” Yaone replied with a smile and continued to stroke at his
burning flesh. His own hand fell away from her and his head tipped back. He
began thrusting into her grip, unable to stop himself. He’d felt nothing like
this in years... Her touching him, wanting him, was almost too much. With a real
effort Hakkai stilled her hand. “I’m going to come right now, if you keep that
up,” he said gently.
“Then be inside of me,” she said. “Please.” The word made him shiver and, as he
lowered himself onto her, he wondered if he could make her beg for this... for
him. He decided he wanted that far more than he ought to, and kissed Yaone as
tenderly as possible to make up for the thought. “Please, Hakkai,” she whimpered
into his mouth. “Please, please, make love to me.”
“Oh, Yaone,” he groaned, and lost the little control he still had. He thrust
into her in one swift, sudden stroke. He felt a pang of regret and then
everything was a blinding, tight, hot blaze of ecstasy. To his relief, Yaone was
moving against him with an enthusiasm matching his own, raising her hips to meet
each of his thrusts. She was calling his name as she moved and the sound of it
on her lips was an unexplored world of bliss.
It had been so long. He had nearly forgotten this feeling. It was not just the
physical: the tight, silken heat embracing and cosseting his aching penis; long,
strong legs wrapped tightly around his hips, pulling him in; soft, warm breasts
pressing and chafing against his chest; and gentle breathy moans ghosting
against his lips. There was the other side of this-- the part he really had
forgotten, or had tried to forget. He felt, for the first time in an age,
connected, cherished, wanted. Yaone’s lashes fluttered rapidly, framing eyes
that were clouded with passion, but still shining with affection-- affection for
him, a desire to be close to him. This beautiful, intelligent
woman was moaning-- no, shouting-- his name and the hot, heavy tingling in his
testicles and at the base of his spine was spreading out in slow, warm waves.
“Hakkai! Oh, Hakkai!”
Too much... “Yaone. My beautiful... Beautiful... Ah! Ah!!” Soft silky
heat, nails raking along his back, hips rising, Yaone - taking him in deeper and
deeper, impossibly deep, until he had no beginning and she had no end and they
were tight, tight, tight. “Ah, Yaone!!” It was like flying: up, up, up
and she was calling his name again, in panting gasps that rose into a scream.
“Hakkai!” Clutching tremors grabbed at his penis, seizing around his length and
milking him as he panted and groaned. He felt his eyes roll back as he pumped
into the soft, soft, loving body beneath him with a deep, shuddering sigh of
Yaone and a fleeting hope of forever, which Hakkai locked away for
later as the tide slowly receded and they clung together, eyes closed,
breathing each others’ breaths and stroking at one another’s trembling,
twitching, sticky skin.
Hakkai considered Sanzo, Gojyo and Goku waking to find him gone and weighed that
against the warm arms around him, the bed beneath him and the very real
possibility of More Sex, and decided that spending the night in Houtou Castle
would be a Good Plan. Besides, he still had business to attend to.
“Hakkai,” Yaone whispered suddenly. “Do you still want to speak with Kougaiji?”
“Yes,” Hakkai answered sleepily, pulling Yaone more tightly against him. She was
soft and smelled very good-- like exotic spices and sex. “We’ll talk in the
morning.”
Yaone didn’t resist the embrace, but her voice sounded a bit strained when she
spoke. “I think you should do it sooner.”
“Why?”
“There’s a chance he may have... heard us, when we were...”
“What makes you think so?” Hakkai asked, opening his eyes and looking at Yaone
in concern.
“He’s sort of here...”
Suddenly wide awake, Hakkai bolted upright in the bed. Kougaiji and Dokugakuji
were staring at him from the doorway, their expressions hovering somewhere
between suspicion, anger and-- thank God-- amusement.
“Oh, dear,” Hakkai murmured. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he continued. “I think
perhaps we should talk.”
Fin. Thanks for reading!
Write
to Sharpeslass!
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