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Title: Good Fortune
Author:
jedishampoo
Pairing: Gojyo/Sanzo
Rating: NC-l7
Summary: Yaoi. Gojyo and Sanzo’s woodland critter encounter. Warning
for silly.
Author’s Notes: For
kansouame and
her prompt of: Gojyo and Sanzo, stuck out in the woods, out of smokes,
lost, it's cold out and...make me laugh. really hot sex would be nice
too. Rabid raccoons are included... sorta. Thanks to
sharpeslass
for the beta. About 3100 words.
The only thing Sanzo could do was follow the creek and hope it would
eventually lead back to the road, and, from there, to Jeep, Hakkai and Goku.
It was night, so there was no sun to give direction. It was cloudy, so there
were no stars. It was fucking cold as hell. Moonlight diffused through and
bounced around under the clouds, turning them silver and everything on the
ground a grayish-black, but there was nothing to see. Only the skinny little
creek at his feet, steep, muddy banks on either side, and trees and thick
bushes above. And in front of him, Gojyo’s back. Of course it would have
to have been Gojyo…
Gojyo halted a few steps ahead of Sanzo. He put his hands on his hips and
looked around. “Hold up for a mo, Sanzo. I think I recognize this spot.”
Sanzo didn’t. “Shut up. If I weren’t so pissed off, I could find my own way
back.”
“Yeah. Ri-ight,” Gojyo drawled. “Like you weren’t the one knocked out and
slung over that horse-dude’s back like a captive fucking princess.”
“Fuck you. I didn’t ask for your help,” Sanzo said. He kept walking, because
he wanted to keep moving. It was a damp-cold kind of autumn night, the kind
that promised rain at any time, the kind in which Sanzo most hated to be
stuck outside.
Gojyo only smirked as Sanzo passed him, and plopped his rear down on a
tree-trunk that had fallen creekside.
“Wonder what they woulda done to you if Prince Charming-- me, ya know--
hadn’t shown up to rescue you?” Sanzo heard the snick of a lighter, and
Gojyo’s chuckling.
Sanzo skidded to a stop, boots crunching on gravel and branches. He stuck
his hand in his robe and then remembered that he didn’t have his gun. It’d
been dropped when he’d been knocked unconscious. Neither did he have any
smokes or his lighter or compass or even his fan-- when he’d been turned
upside-down, apparently his robe had been emptied like he was a debtor being
shaken down by the town thugs.
There was only himself and the sutra. That wouldn’t help with
directions but it might kill Gojyo. Perhaps he should give it a try…
He swiveled and stomped back to Gojyo’s perch, thinking maybe a fist to the
chin would be sufficient to shut Gojyo’s trap. Before he could even swing,
however, he caught a whiff of Gojyo’s last smoke-filled exhale.
Sanzo’s lungs expanded on their own, begging for nicotine. It had been a few
hours since his last smoke. He was desperate.
“Give me one of those,” he ordered.
“Screw you. This is my next to last one.” Gojyo grinned at him with white
teeth.
Sanzo waited until Gojyo had stuck his cigarette back in his mouth, and then
grabbed it and shoved it between his own lips. He backed a couple of steps
out of Gojyo’s radius and inhaled. It tasted like shitty Hi-Lites. Like
smoking air. It tasted marvelous.
“You asshole!”
Sanzo dodged Gojyo’s grasping hand. “’S all wet. You drool when you smoke?”
Brrrrip!
“Only when I’m thinking about you, sweetheart. Gimme--”
Brrrrip! Chrrriiip!
“What the hell is that? Gimme that back.”
“I’m not your sweetheart, cockroach.” Sanzo swung a fist to keep Gojyo away
and glanced around for the source of the strange noise.
“Brrrrip!”
They both spotted it at the same time. It was striped-brown, furry, and
about knee-high to Sanzo. It stood at the end of Gojyo’s fallen tree and
regarded them with huge, friendly, black-ringed eyes.
“What the hell is that?” Gojyo repeated, forgetting his cigarette for
a moment. His fingers twitched as if he was considering calling the
shaku-jou. However, the critter-- whatever it was-- didn't look menacing. It
only chirruped and watched them with its gleaming, happy eyes. “A kind of
dog?”
“Raccoon?” Sanzo suggested. It was vaguely raccoon-ish. Except for the--
“Holy shit, look at the size of its balls!” Gojyo cried.
Sanzo didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. One couldn’t help noticing them. The
animal had the most enormous testicles-- or somethings-- hanging between its
legs, dragging on the ground. It was practically sitting on them. A memory
trickled through Sanzo’s brain. Koumyou had enjoyed reading and learning
about rare creatures, and had enjoyed sharing that knowledge with Kouryuu.
“Tanuki,” Sanzo said, and took another drag off Gojyo’s cigarette. “That’s
what it’s called. I think. It’s harmless. I think.”
“Doesn’t look nasty. Except for those-- hey, well, it’s kinda cute.”
“They’re good luck.” Sanzo realized that he hadn’t specified what was good
luck, the animal or its balls, and then realized that it didn’t matter. He
smoked and watched as the tanuki-probably shuffled a few steps forward,
careful of dragging its nether parts, to sit near Gojyo’s boots. It reached
out a little black paw and skritched gently at Gojyo’s pants.
“Whaddya want, you freaky lil’ fella?”
Keeping a hand on Gojyo’s knee, the tanuki climbed up on the fallen tree to
snuggle next to Gojyo.
“Brrrrip, Chirrup?” it said, plastering itself to Gojyo’s thigh and staring
into Gojyo’s eyes.
“Hey, I think he likes me!”
“Don’t know why,” Sanzo said, and dropped the smoking butt of Gojyo’s--
his-- cigarette onto the creekside gravel. If Hi-Lites tasted bad, their
filters tasted even worse. Still, it had been worth every horrible puff.
“Maybe it’s cold.” Gojyo’s arm hovered above the animal for a moment or two,
then he patted it on the head, gently.
“Or hungry. It has fur,” Sanzo said, then watched as the tanuki burrowed
itself a little into the folds of Gojyo’s jacket. Shit, maybe it was
cold. Sanzo sure as hell was. And Gojyo was unnaturally warm, Sanzo
remembered. It was one of Gojyo’s few redeeming qualities. In certain
situations.
The animal had stopped brrriping and was making a contented-sounding
humming noise, while it stared adoringly up into Gojyo’s face. Gojyo looked
equally adoring, was patting the damned thing on the back and making
clicking noises deep in his throat. It was sickening.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Sanzo said and took a few steps back the
way they’d originally been headed. He halted again when he heard Gojyo start
bitching.
“Hey, keep your balls off the leather. Hey! Wait a minute. Give those
back--”
Sanzo turned and saw the tanuki jumping off of Gojyo’s lap, a lighter and a
nearly-empty pack of cigarettes clenched in its tiny claws. The animal did
something-- it looked like it bowed, though that would have been
impossible-- and with a final brrrrip! brrrrip! and a wave and squeak
at Gojyo, it scurried off with surprising speed up the steep wall lining one
side of the creek. Sanzo would have laughed darkly at the stupefied
expression on Gojyo’s face, but he’d just realized something.
“Did that thing really take our last cigarette?” he asked, in some alarm.
Gojyo nodded. “My last cigarette, and yeah, it did. Not such good
luck, ya stupid priest.”
Sanzo huffed. His lungs and bloodstream were already bemoaning the lack of
any possible nicotine in the immediate future. And he still had no idea
where they were. The next half-horse-half-youkai Sanzo saw, he’d shoot it
before it could ever get a whack at him. The appearance of the damned thing
had stupefied all of them-- Goku especially-- and the crowd of youkai had
gotten the drop on them. Gojyo had said they were mostly dead by the time
he’d left to look for Sanzo, but that didn’t help Sanzo now. “Any
luck it had would have been canceled by you. You’re nothing but
trouble-bait.”
Gojyo ignored the insult. He was still staring at the creature’s little
claw-marks in the muddy bank. “Huh. That was kind of… well, it was kind of
special.” His voice trailed off. “And fucked up.”
“A special kind of fucked-up,” Sanzo said, and started walking along the
creek, yet again.
Shit, it was cold. Sanzo shivered. There was the sound of scuffling
gravel behind him and then Sanzo felt an arm cut across his front, and the
warmth of Gojyo pressed all along his back.
“Cold, princess?” That was Gojyo’s hot breath in his ear, making Sanzo’s
entire body shiver again.
Gojyo was a lumbering idiot but he was always fucking warmer than hell. It
may have been a redeeming quality but that didn’t mean Sanzo couldn’t be
pissed off about it. He’d made the mistake of griping about it once, when
Gojyo had happened to be very close, closer than now. As a result,
Sanzo’d had to endure Gojyo’s idiotic blather about hot-blooded sex-machines
and whatever-the-fuck, until Sanzo had pointed out that Goku was the same
way. That had shut Gojyo up for a while, while he tried to decide if
Sanzo had meant that the way it sounded. He hadn’t, but Gojyo didn’t have to
know that.
Sanzo rammed an elbow back into Gojyo’s gut. Anger could keep him plenty
warm. And he wasn’t in the mood. Necessarily.
“I’m fine. Get the hell off me.”
Gojyo’s other arm curled around Sanzo, pulling him even closer to that
idiotic, lumbering, warm-as-hell body.
“Wanna fuck?”
“Fuck, no,” Sanzo said, and bent his arm to give Gojyo another shot to the
spleen. Gojyo just squeezed.
“Come on, nothin’ else to do until Hakkai and the monkey find us. Besides,
it seems like it might be good luck.”
“Did that thing take your last brain-cell, too?” Sanzo said, a little
worried. Because what Gojyo had said had actually made sense, of a
bizarre, moronic sort. The subconscious knew too many things that the waking
brain couldn’t always ignore.
“Been awhile…” One of Gojyo’s gigantic hands crept down to rub between
Sanzo’s legs. Sanzo’s subconscious answered with a dick-twitch.
Hell, hell hell. Oh, what the hell. They were alone-- except for any
unseen woodland critters-- and that didn’t happen too often. Not that Sanzo
wanted it to, but still. They were lost. They had no lighters to make fire,
no gun to advertise their location. They had no cigarettes. Their luck
couldn’t get any worse. And at least it would keep him warm.
Sanzo jerked himself around in the circle of Gojyo’s arms and shoved until
Gojyo stumbled backwards, off-balance. Sanzo kicked him in the stomach and
he went down onto his ass with an oof. A second later Sanzo followed,
straddling Gojyo and shoving their groins together. There was a suspiciously
solid lump in the front of Gojyo’s jeans-- he was already hard. Not that
Sanzo wasn’t close.
“Pushy damned monk-- oh!”
Sanzo had thrust his hands under Gojyo’s white shirt, warming his cold
fingers on that hot, hot skin.
“Ohh, yeahhh….” Gojyo sighed. He clenched Sanzo’s hips and pulled and
pushed, back and forth, fingers digging into Sanzo’s skin through his jeans.
A few more grinds on both sides, and Sanzo could feel the sweat break on his
forehead, along his breastbone, feel a trickling heat and throb in his gut
that banished the cold damp surrounding them. Another of Gojyo’s redeeming
qualities-- he was a good fuck. He just bragged about it too much.
Good thing he knew when to keep his mouth shut about things that weren’t
anybody else’s business. “Get my jeans,” Sanzo ordered.
“Sure thing. Pushy damned monk,” Gojyo repeated, but in a breathier, lower
voice that spoke to every sensual hormone in Sanzo’s body. Gojyo fumbled
open the button and zipper of Sanzo’s jeans and Sanzo lifted himself onto
his knees so Gojyo could yank them down. He let them get halfway to his
knees before he sank down again, bare-assed, onto Gojyo’s thighs.
“Take those off, why don’tcha?” Gojyo suggested.
“No. Too damned cold.”
Gojyo was good: he didn’t argue further, just reached between Sanzo and
jeans and into Sanzo’s robe to squeeze his dick while Sanzo tore open the
buttons to Gojyo’s pants. He was really, really good: Sanzo lost focus while
those long, callused fingers squeezed his cock in time with his thumping
pulse, in time with both their breaths.
Sanzo opened his eyes when the stroking fingers left him cold. Gojyo had
arched his back and was pushing his own pants down over his hips.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sanzo snipped.
“C’mon, Sanzo…” Gojyo’s voice was hoarse, his breath puffing little clouds
into the heavy air between them. He grabbed Sanzo’s cock again and clenched
it against his own, dry throbbing flesh on flesh. Sanzo lost concentration
again. At some point he sort of fell forward, digging his hands into the
pebbly ground and into Gojyo’s hair spread out on it. He closed his eyes and
breathed, let his hips sway with Gojyo’s fingers…he barely even spared a
thought as to how he’d been convinced so easily that this was a good idea.
“Oi! Sanzo.” Something bumped Sanzo on the chin. Sanzo opened his eyes again
to see a little tube of lubricant hovering in the air somewhere around his
lips. Good thing the animal hadn’t cleaned Gojyo out completely.
Further focus revealed Gojyo’s fingers holding it, and beyond that, Gojyo’s
desperate eyes. “Who’s gettin’ it?”
“Nobody’s getting it, if you don’t shut up.” Sanzo propped himself on one
hand and snatched the tube from Gojyo’s fingers with the other. He flipped
the top off and squirted some into the air.
“Damned monk,” Gojyo said, not shutting up as ordered. “You’re gettin’
gravel in it. Kinky, but not if it’s goin’ in my ass.”
“Tch.” Sanzo looked at his palm. Bits of dirt and sharp pebbles were pressed
into his skin. Fine. He wiped his hand on Gojyo’s shirt, then sort of
squirted the bottle in the general direction of their dicks. It went on warm
and cooled in the damp air, joining Gojyo’s stroking, squeezing fingers,
coating everything with slippery, tactile bliss.
“Whatever you’re doin’, hurry it up, Sanzo.” A low moan hovered behind
Gojyo’s words. His eyes were half-shut, sensual.
“Yeah…” Sanzo felt desperate, throbbing, too. There was no way to get
Gojyo’s legs… screw it. Sanzo leaned forward, then back, holding Gojyo’s
hard, thick cock steady so he could slide down…
“Oh, yeahhh…” Gojyo breathed, rolling his head back in obvious ecstasy. He
twined fingers in Sanzo’s hair, pulling at it, pulling Sanzo down. The feel
of Gojyo’s dick inside him, stretching, burrowing, finding that spot all on
its own, had almost blurred out the pain of Sanzo’s near-concussion. Almost.
Sanzo’s belly tightened, and Gojyo groaned and yanked harder at Sanzo’s
hair.
“Ow! Dammit.”
“You okay?”
“No. You’re pulling my brains out of my skull,” Sanzo told him.
“Oh, sorry.” Gojyo’s fingers gentled in an instant-- how did he do that?--
and slid down to brush his thumb under Sanzo’s earlobe, then down his neck
and chest. Then his hands were on Sanzo’s ass, sliding up and down, groping
skin wherever he could find it.
Sanzo arched his back and moved, moved in that humid bubble of warmth and
flesh, following the orders of every bundle of nerves in his body, the ones
telling him to go, go. Gojyo moved with him, hips undulating off the
ground with muscular grace.
“Ah,” Sanzo said, and found a pace, then waited for Gojyo to catch up, which
he did-- he always did, he certainly knew how to screw. Sanzo barely
wondered at his own urgency. The forest wasn’t going anywhere, only he was,
his brain blurring into dysfunction while his body worked.
“Hah,” Gojyo said, and flattened his palm over Sanzo’s cock where it was
pressed against his stomach.
“Ah,” Sanzo said, as Gojyo’s dick and hand jostled at all his most
vulnerable spots at once, sending his nerves racing to his belly, tensing
all his muscles to that tight edge--
“Ah! That’s good, Sanzo,” Gojyo was mumbling. “Ah! Sanzo, I-- ah--
still can’t get over that thing’s balls--”
“Shit!” Sanzo’s own testicles clenched, sending the tight to grip his dick
and yank and he came, spurting onto Gojyo’s gravel-and lube-stained
shirt and his own jeans.
“Hell, yeah. Whatta thought,” Gojyo huffed, and yanked at Sanzo’s boneless
hips a time or two more before his thighs jerked and he expelled one last,
long, ahhhh of white breath into the air.
Sanzo took barely a moment or two to catch his breath before sitting up and
rolling off Gojyo. He dug automatically in his robe and found only empty
pockets where all his stuff should have been.
“Tch,” he said, jumping to his feet to pull up his jeans. What a thought
to come to, indeed. He wondered if he’d ever be able to erase it from
his mind. “You’re a fucking pervert. And I don’t have any smokes.”
“Hoo!” Gojyo must have felt the slap of cold air; he wriggled his own jeans
up his hips and buttoned them before climbing to his feet. “Sucks, don’t it?
Maybe if you hadn’t wasted my last one-- and who are you callin’ a
pervert? I got your evidence right here on my clothes--”
Brrrrip! Snick.
“Tch,” Sanzo said again, ignoring Gojyo. He reached for his gun, again a
split-second before realizing that it wasn’t there.
“Chirrup!”
Sanzo and Gojyo both looked up to see the raccoon-dog-animal from before,
sitting on the edge of the cliff-bank a few feet above their eye-level.
“That thing’s the damned pervert. It was watching or somethin’,” Gojyo said,
and pointed up at it. His shaku-jou materialized in his outstretched hand.
“Give me back my cigarette, you sick little bastard.”
Sanzo smelled smoke a half-second before the creature flicked its paw,
tossing a lit cigarette at them. There was a general scramble, but Sanzo
reached it first. His brain registered that it was indeed one of Gojyo’s
shitty Hi-Lites before he stuck it between his lips and took a deep drag of
that horrible, marvelous Hi-Lite smoke.
“Hey!”
There was a final brrrip and a rustling of branches, and the thing
was gone again.
Sanzo managed not to laugh, again. He was just glad he had a cigarette and
he wasn’t annoyed any more. For the moment. There was no better revenge on
Gojyo than watching his stunned face as he disappeared the shaku-jou and
turned despairing eyes on Sanzo.
“At least give me a puff, asshole,” Gojyo mumbled, stepping forward.
Sanzo took a long, deep drag, then yanked Gojyo close by his shirt. He
plastered his mouth against Gojyo’s and shoved his tongue inside, then
exhaled. Gojyo was good: he only choked a little before kissing Sanzo back.
“Sanzooooooo! Gojyoo! Sanzooooooo!”
It was Goku. Sanzo decided he’d had enough of Gojyo, anyway. For one night.
He pulled away and shoved the cigarette filter between Gojyo’s lips. Gojyo
grinned at him.
“There’s your damned shitty cigarette. Now stop talking to me,” Sanzo said.
He yelled in the direction from which they’d heard Goku’s voice. “We’re down
here, Monkey. Where the hell are you?”
“Whatta thought,” Gojyo mumbled, and started climbing the cliffs. Sanzo
ignored him and dreamed of his Marlboros.
End.
Thanks for reading!
Note: You can read about
tanukis on wikipedia. I did!
Click HERE
to
e-mail Jedishampoo
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