Sweat and Blood and Sweat
Sweat and Blood and Sweat
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Warnings:
Pairing:
Summary:
Notes:
you can get as close as you want to that line.”
tongue across her full, purple lips. “I like you.”
“‘Course you do,”
was a substitute for fucking, anymore, on this trip, ‘cause
he sure wasn’t getting laid. It was the only thing that really made the cool
sweat break over heat-exercised skin, to trickle out of all the exciting places
on his body: the nape of his neck, the insides of the elbows,
testosterone shooting into his bloodstream, to reach that perfect high. Winning
was the climax, what earned the smoke afterwards.
It had been especially fun
fighting this chick-- she was hotter than hell. Tough, too.
The closer they got to
weirder and more powerful the youkai became: the big
guns were protecting the home-front. Powerful like that woman last week, the
one who’d been able to reattach body parts to youkai
that Gojyo had spent a good half-hour slicing to
pieces. And Gojyo couldn’t forget the guy a few days
ago, the one who’d given them all that nasty rash-- Hakkai’d
had a hell of a time curing them of that shit.
This chick-- the one standing
in front of Gojyo grinning and spattered in blood and
still alive, unlike most of her buddies-- obviously, her secret power was
remaining upright while sporting the most ginormous
pair of hooters Gojyo’d ever seen on a female of any
species.
Seriously.
either. Gojyo could appreciate that, even if he was
planning to kick her ass all the same. It’d be a shame to hack those babies up,
though-- nice and round and smooth, they weren’t droopy at all. It looked like
she worked out her pecs or something. The sweat, the
twitching in his limbs, the throb in his chest and between his legs, made him
feel alive. This was the foreplay.
“Ha! Now you
and Gojyo saw something fly out of her hand. He
whipped up the shaku-jou just in time to deflect it.
“Fuck!” he said, and squeezed
his fingers about the haft more tightly to knock away a couple more of whatever
she was throwing at him-- knives, or something. Apparently, her real power was
distracting pervs like himself,
killing ‘em while they were gaping at the chasm
between her mountainous boobs. Hell, even Goku
was staring, getting off on watching the fight.
“Put your eyes back into your
head, idiot,” a voice growled. A flash of red and white intruded upon
sleeve of Sanzo’s robe-- and then the glint of
twilight off Sanzo’s gun in his hand, and then
and took aim.
“Jealous
much? I was doin’
fine,” Gojyo retorted, but Sanzo
had already pulled the trigger and a short scream tore from the
She fell on top of the other
bodies with her mouth still open, purple lips starting to look more morbid now
than alluring. No more sound came out from them, but something came out.
A cloud, black, like smoke but not.
like back in the day when they’d kill some assassin or another and they’d sort
of disintegrate.
“
out!” came Hakkai’s voice. A blast of half-visible qigong
energy knocked some of the cloud-black-stuff aside, but too late to keep the
brunt from slamming into Sanzo full-on.
hardly any because Sanzo had been there blocking him
from the chick like always, except in this case Gojyo
figured he oughta thank the bastard pretty monk.
“Sanzo,”
Gojyo said, ‘cause the
bastard pretty monk fell to his knees, coughing.
“Shit, shit, shit!” That was
over his nose. “I feel all weird.”
“Weird,
how?” Hakkai
asked, joining them, but Goku waved his arms to keep
“I dunno.
That woman... she was... she had really big--” He stopped talking, lowered his
head and started running.
Hakkai
missed. Goku disappeared into the dark woods
surrounding the little clearing full of carnage.
“Come back! It will be all
right, I-- Oh, no.” Hakkai looked at
I’ll be right back. I think I know what hit him.”
“Well, you could tell me what
it was, first!” Gojyo yelled, but Hakkai
had disappeared, too. There was only the shivering of shadowy branches to show
where he’d torn through the line of trees and undergrowth.
Gojyo
of attackers. He was feeling a little weird himself. He couldn’t quite say what
the feeling was. Tingly? A little
once more for good effect, then looked down at
was standing again.
“Knew a little smoke wouldn’t
kill ya,” Gojyo said. Then
he stopped talking, because Sanzo was looking at him.
Not just looking but staring.
Sanzo
staring at Gojyo over a mound of dead
making the grass slick and seeping into the ground, making the mud.
Eyes alight, a half-mad grin on his fine features. His fingers trembled and
clenched and unclenched over and over into not-quite-fists, like with
suppressed... something.
“
“She liked you, huh?”
between clenched teeth. “Did you like her, too? Were you having fun?”
“What the hell are you
talking about?” Gojyo said, and fought back a grin.
Arguing with Sanzo was like fucking, too.
“
to wherever he put it when he wasn’t using it.
Gojyo
“Idiot.
rubbed at his own silk-covered forearms a few times. Then he barked out a
short, strained kind of laugh, and started fiddling with the tie to his robes.
“What?” Gojyo
repeated, too struck stupid at the moment to think of anything better to say,
because Sanzo was probably not right in the head
after being hit with that black-cloud shit. Goku had
definitely been weird, and he’d only gotten half what Sanzo
had got. Gojyo could only watch as
wound it a couple of times around his hands. He pulled it taut with his fingers
a couple times more, like he was playing with it, or testing its strength.
“I wasn’t talking to you,”
hands, coming together, then snapping apart, joined by the silk.
“Whatever. Have it your way,
and turned away, disappearing the shaku-jou.
He still felt weird too, sorta tense and unfinished.
minutes.
When he stuck a hand into the
pocket of his jacket to find his smokes, the grip on his wrist from behind took
him by surprise. Before he could wrench his hand free, strong fingers had
grabbed his other wrist, and something slammed into his back like a club and
sent him face-first into the bloody, muddy grass. The air was knocked out of
him for a moment and he hated to inhale that shit but he had to breathe,
something about those fingers…
“What the fuck?
“Behind you, asshole,” came
harsh-breathy and deeper than usual. Gojyo felt the
breath and panicked. He tried to fight his hands free but while he’d been
trying to catch his breath they had been bound by something, and he couldn’t
pry them apart.
That black stuff... was it
some sort of mind control? Whatever it had been, this couldn’t be happening,
Gojyo tried to lift his face from the disgusting muck
covering the ground. “Hakkai!
Hakkai, you there, man?
“Shut up,”
shoulder and rolled him over onto his back atop of his own gathered hands, and
then the breath was knocked out of him again as Sanzo
sat on his thighs, straddling him, and pinned his shoulders to the ground.
“What,
afraid to fight me with my hands free?” Gojyo said, when he could breathe again.
“Who says I’m fighting?”
angry and a little afraid, all at the same time. He discovered that this
particular concoction of emotions felt pretty good. Hell, it felt fucking
amazing. He was gonna get his fight after all.
“What are you doing, then?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t like
me, too?”
“What?” Gojyo
repeated, like some sort of idiot. He’d meant to say, hell, no.
thighs, and-- oh, shit. Yeah, he liked Sanzo.
He always sorta had. Pretty,
untouchable. Pretty damned untouchable,
when it came down to it. But it wasn’t
the kind of thing he would admit aloud, especially to an asshole like
was totally hard through his clothes right where their groins met. Or was
that really him? “Uh.”
“If you can’t say anything
interesting, then shut up,” Sanzo said, and shoved a
hand over Gojyo’s mouth. The ring that held his
arm-warmers on was cool and slippery against Gojyo’s
lips. And fuck, Sanzo’s other hand was ripping at
he wondered why the hell he’d worn that one on this day, of all days. Then
warm, gun-callused fingers and the cool ring sliding hard friction against the
skin of his breastbone. The hand on his mouth slid down to curl fingers into
his hair, yanking it at the roots. The pain of it felt embarrassingly awesome,
like all that sensation was traveling straight down to his dick.
Gojyo
that black cloud. It sure explained why he’d felt so sexy fighting that chick,
anyway.
“Man, Sanzo’s
gonna be pissed when he gets his body back,”
him. Still, he arched into the touch. This couldn’t be happening. Oh please,
god, let this be happening.
“Who says I’m not
golden hair fell over his eyes as he leaned forward, and his mouth was a thin
line like a cruel smirk. One hand still slithered over Gojyo’s
shoulders, into his armpits. His skin buzzed wherever Sanzo
touched it. And hell, no-- Sanzo was grinding
his crotch against Gojyo’s, and Gojyo
definitely wasn’t the only one who was hard here. He wasn’t being
the control of a youkai lust-spell-thingy. It wasn’t
exactly a dream come true, but close enough.
Gojyo
breathe, anyway?”
“Enough.” Sanzo
rocked back and sat on Gojyo’s thighs again, a hand
shoving into his open robe and under the waistband of his own jeans, thumbing
open the button. At some point he’d kicked off his boots and he
half-rolled onto Gojyo’s legs and slithered out of
his denim.
“Shit,” Gojyo
said, and half-heartedly tried to shift his hips, to roll Sanzo
off, but he couldn’t stop staring at Sanzo’s erect
cock as he leaned forward again; there it was, hovering over
a serious jolt to his already-weak resolve. Blood-sticky blond hair flopped
forward and tickled Gojyo’s lips, and unconsciously
he breathed it in, the scent and taste of humanity and the outdoors, life and
death.
Sanzo
again but it only pushed the heel of Sanzo’s hand
into his own straining cock. The contact made him gasp and quit his struggling.
Sanzo made short work of the fly and oh, holy hell,
that silk and that metal ring against’s
unyielding, perfect. Strong interest skyrocketed into
full-on lust.
“Hmph,”
Sanzo whispered into Gojyo’s
skin, jerking at his oversensitized dick a few times.
“Tell me you don’t want it.”
“Would you stop if I did?”
“Tell me. Do you want me to?”
Sanzo’s tongue swiped on Gojyo’s
throat with every word.
“Uh.”
“You’re too easy,”
halfway down his thighs. Smashed between his own back and the ground,
“Hell, I got hit by that
shit, too,” Gojyo groaned, rationalizing.
“Tch,”
Sanzo said, a non-answer. He
settled his bare ass against the tops of Gojyo’s
thighs, sliding back and forth fractionally, humming a low moan of his own. A
small worry began to penetrate Gojyo’s brain,
fighting the haze of Sanzo-touching-lust. Was he
well.
“So, you must like me too,
huh?” Gojyo mumbled, trying to stall the whatever,
though maybe he wanted an answer as well. Gojyo
didn’t want to push his luck-- his hands were still tied and
“You’re always touching
me...” Sanzo said, reaching into his robes, and
get a bullet in my head while I’ve got a dick in my ass...not the way I wanted
to go.
“Sorry...” he whispered.
“No, you’re not,”
caught the scent of flowers.
Gojyo
for half his life had taught him something. “What the hell--? Hand lotion? You
can’t use that! Don’t put that in me, you shitty monk! You--”
“Shut up,”
because Sanzo had taken hold of his dick again, was
slathering the stuff onto it already, and it was all cold and burned at the
same time and Gojyo’s mind blanked. Screw what he’d
learned: Sanzo could fuck him if he wanted,
would beg for it. Because touch was what sent the tingly-lust-high over the
edge, the particular evil of this little youkai-magic:
every contact made it worse instead of better, and every touch was impossible
to resist. Gojyo dimly wondered if
He must have, because he kept
running his hand over Gojyo’s body, touching
everywhere he could, fingers digging into his skin, pushing down into his chest
as he rocked forward on his knees. Gojyo wondered how
was he gonna get fucked, ‘cause his jeans were still
halfway down his thighs. Then he figured it out, because Sanzo
used his grip on Gojyo’s cock to ram it up his ass,
and it only squeezed the burning along Gojyo’s dick
into the skin that covered the throb, the throb that was Gojyo’s
entire being at the moment. He wasn’t being fucked, he was inside
terrifying, all at the same time.
“Ah!” Sanzo
cried out a little, and hovered, halfway-impaled on Gojyo
for a moment, fingers digging into Gojyo’s shoulders.
“Ah!”
When Gojyo
could think for a second, he looked up. Sanzo’s face
was in shadow. The last bit of sunlight caught only the top of his head,
turning it into a red-gold halo, and he hung there, his breathing harsh, deep
gasps of air.
“That’s gotta
hurt,” Gojyo whispered, but inwardly he was begging
motherfucker. And then his hips took up the chant, arching to get deeper,
succeeding bit by bit, centimeter by centimeter of aching skin.
“No,” Sanzo
said, and he must have been answering Gojyo’s
question because he began moving, too. He shoved his palm over
silk and callused skin and moved, hips jerky as they tried to force him deeper
into Sanzo. Finally the two of them found a
sort-of-rhythm, a few minutes of perfect, painful sensation, not talking, only
breathing, but the tension filling every pore of Gojyo’s
body from scalp to toes only built, and didn’t go anywhere.
Sanzo
thighs, shoving Gojyo’s
joined hands underneath him over and over into the gooey ground, fingers on his
face pressing the back of his head down, the other hand still touching
was everywhere, he was everything, and all Gojyo
could think was that no matter how hot and smooth and tight it was, it wasn’t
going to work, it was just torture.
“Mmph
mmph,” Gojyo said against
the fabric and callused skin muffling his mouth. He
shook his head, and Sanzo’s hand slipped free to dig
into the ground next to Gojyo’s ear. The rest of
something, dammit. He needed to be touching in
return. It had been too long and now it was too intense-- he had to do
something. “Sanzo. Huh.
Please. Untie my hands.”
Sweat was dripping from
chest. His thighs on the outside of Gojyo’s burned
them raw with it. “No... No.”
“Please, man.”
“I’m-- I’m not-- going anywhere. I can help... I can make it better. I swear.”
Sanzo
took the initiative, pushed down on his fisted hands behind him and rolled them
both to the side. Sanzo’s thighs locked around
again he could grab Sanzo’s ass and pull forward with
everything he had, and Sanzo’s breaths were all cries
now and the sound was almost as devastatingly exciting as the touch. He wished
he could see Sanzo’s slender, muscled body because he
could only feel it, wished it wasn’t so dark and he could see
own belly.
“That’s it,
pushing burning skin into impossible heat. It had to go somewhere... it
couldn’t last forever...it was working,
Sanzo
finally, and Gojyo gripped his ass more tightly,
fingers slippery on the sweaty skin, and thank you, thank you, the
aching impossible throb that was everywhere rushed to his spine, his belly, and
into Sanzo.
The relief was amazing. It
had never felt like that before and never would again, Gojyo
was sure. It was a short dream of relief, however, and lasted only a few
seconds, because he was still touching Sanzo,
touching the skin, and he had to do it again, touch all of it.
Sanzo
half-slammed him into the ground, rolling on top. He’d been looking up at
them and it was dark, but he could see the glassy eyes
of dead youkai and a suspicious gleam on the trampled
grass; it was wet and slick. Then he was kissing Sanzo
at last, tongue diving in to taste Sanzo’s answering
lust, the only part of it he’d been denied before. Sanzo
moan-whimpered and wound a hand into Gojyo’s hair,
holding on. They were both hard again, and it was unbelievable, and wonderful.
He had to get the taste of
his system. He’d do it again, do it all night, all
week, if that’s what it took. He could never get enough. The
sweat, the heat, the fighting, the fucking.
“
“Go away,”
the particular evil of this little youkai-spell. It
would feel good forever: that was its curse and its beauty. He’d breathed and
touched Sanzo and nothing else mattered.
“It will wear off,”
thankful. Goku’s asleep in Jeep. We’ll wait for you.”
“Uh, okay,”
“Shit,” Sanzo
said, kissing Gojyo back.
END.
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