A Thief in the Night

Sanzo was very uneasy when he finally fell into bed that night. The events of the past weeks had left him far more unsettled than he cared to admit, and the fact that it was raining now only added to his feeling out of sorts. Ever since they had first encountered the strange cleric from the West and his huge taciturn sidekick, he had felt more and more disconcerted, and he really didn’t know why. He knew the others had to have noticed his profound unease around Hazel Grosse: all three of the other members of the Ikkou had looked at him like he had lost his mind when he agreed to allow the odd priest from the other side of the world and his bodyguard Gato to travel with them in Hakuryuu. And he had seen Hakkai giving him that silent but querulous raised-eyebrow-look of his on several occasions, especially that night, when he had decided they would all stop at the inn in question, even though there were only three rooms available there for all six of them. It had had nothing to do with Hazel, Hakkai should have known that: he was tired as hell, it was late, and they could goddamn well suck it up for one night. End of discussion.

But everything that had happened since they had arrived there had only served to increase his uncomfortable feelings where the odd priest from the West was concerned. Even the attempt at normalcy of the poker game earlier, accompanied by a substantial amount of beer, hadn’t dulled the way his frayed nerve-endings tingled when he was around Hazel. Every time he was within ten feet of the guy he felt like someone somewhere was tap-dancing on his grave, and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood up in prickly alarm. He couldn’t explain it to himself, so he certainly couldn’t begin to explain it to the rest of the group, nor did he intend to try. He just knew he would be infinitely relieved when he could finally put some distance between his party and the strange pair, and he was very glad he had insisted on having a room to himself, despite the amount of bitching and resentful looks he had had to deal with, as he didn’t feel like dealing with anyone in any form that night, even Hakkai’s relatively unobtrusive presence.

He rolled over in the small lumpy bed and stared out the window into the night, watching the fat drops roll down the pane like oily tears. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate and force himself to relax, longing for sleep, but had a feeling he was probably not going to be that lucky, as keyed-up as he felt.

He knew he had double-locked the door from the inside as always, so he thought surely he must have drifted off and had to have dreamed it when he heard the soft click of the lock and the quiet swish of the door opening and closing. He knew all too well how the mind could play tricks on you in that strange twilight area between wakefulness and the blessed peace of sleep, so he shrugged it off, closed his eyes again, and tried his best to clear his mind and let himself drift.

He shivered violently as he felt more than heard the soft drawling whisper of the strange Western accent, a gentle wisp of faintly wine-scented breath brushing lightly over the hair around his ear. It came from someone unseen, behind and leaning over him as he lay prone and vulnerable in the darkness.

“Ya don’t need ta worry, my dear Mister Sanzo,” the voice said, a faint trace of laughter underlying the words. “I’ve just come fer a little evening companionship, one priest to another.”

His eyes flew open in shock as he realized it was not a dream and tried to jump from the bed, but before he could even move the surprisingly strong slender arms were around him like a velvet vise, and the voice kept cooing persistently in his ear. For such a fine-boned man, the foreign priest was surprisingly strong: eerily so, Sanzo thought as he realized at that moment that he was somehow completely pinned by the smaller man.

“Now, now, what’s all the commotion about, Mister Sanzo?” his sure soft voice soothing and gently teasing at the same time. “Ya know we’ve both wanted this meeting since we first met. If ya can’t be honest with me, ya should at least be honest with yourself, Sir.” As he said the words his tongue snaked softly into Sanzo’s ear, teasing around the rim of the shell, sending another shiver through the monk’s clenched body.

“You’re out of your fucking mind, asshole,” Sanzo hissed between gritted teeth. ”Let me go now, or else.” He tried to figure out if he could reach the drawer in the nightstand where he had stowed the gun, but it was all the way on the other side of the bed, behind Hazel’s body at the moment.

Hazel laughed a low throaty laugh. “Oh, Mister Sanzo, do ya think ya can fool me, of all people?”

He reached down between the houshi’s legs, confirming with a light touch of his gloved hand that, even as he struggled against him, the slim muscular blond was already half-aroused, just as he had expected. “See, Mister Sanzo, I reckon I know ya better than ya know yourself.”

Sanzo tried to recoil from his touch, but Hazel held him with such leverage that his struggles only gave the foreign priest better access to the areas he was trying to protect. He ground his teeth as his traitorous body responded more and more to the stranger’s touch. He smelled a strange combination of smells emanating from the foreign priest: some kind of spicy resinous incense dominated it all, wafting liberally around him like a pale cloud, accompanied by a clean-smelling soap scent from his hair and skin. But beneath it all, so faint that Sanzo almost thought he was imagining it, a faint sweet cloying odor of decay darted in and out behind the other scents. He wondered with revulsion if it emanated from that infernal amulet of his, and the thought rose up like a spectre in his mind, only to be banished swiftly by the press of the young priest’s strong slender fingers on his aching cock.

Hazel continued caressing Sanzo’s length to full hardness through the denim of his jeans, and began laving the flesh of his neck with his tongue, where it was exposed over the top of his black undergarment, tugging the top down slightly to get at more of Sanzo’s neck.

“Mmmm. Gracious, ya taste mighty fine, just as I thought ya would.”

Sanzo felt conflicted between the innate suspicions he had about this man, and the magnetic pull he had undeniably felt towards him since he had first encountered him. He wanted the strange foreigner out of his room now before things got any further out of control, while he might still be able to stop, and he wanted him out of the path of the Ikkou yesterday. But at the same time he obviously felt some seemingly inescapable drive regarding Hazel, had some strange fascination with him, and he wanted to know why he did and said things around Hazel that seemed to come from out of nowhere, why something inside him came unhinged when he was around the pale stranger no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. It unnerved him and it made him feel out of control and he wanted it to stop.

But regardless of what Sanzo’s mind was telling him about anything, Sanzo’s body was dealing with Hazel’s soft voice purring in his ear and his slender fingers massaging his dick, which was making his balls ache like bloody hell and his cock feel like it was going to melt the metal zipper of his jeans any minute.

As if he sensed the monk’s vulnerable moment, Hazel deftly flipped Sanzo over onto his back when he was least resisting him and pinned his arms over his head. Frosty ice-blue eyes met blazing violet as Hazel cocked his head and smiled a small crooked smile just for an instant before he quickly plundered the bouzu’s mouth with his own. He knew an explosion of expletives was forthcoming from the steaming monk any second if he didn’t otherwise silence him. Sanzo struggled against him, but Hazel’s strong arms kept him securely pinned. Sanzo’s resistance only seemed to escalate the intensity of Hazel’s pursuit, and his own need was beginning to overwhelm his ability to resist.

“Oh my, Mister Sanzo,” Hazel whispered throatily after the first deep kiss, “ya know I’ve had dreams of doing this with ya for such a long while now.”

His soft lips and honeyed words were belied by the ferocity of his kisses, and Sanzo’s increasingly futile attempts at resisting him were turning into low throaty growls of pleasure, interspersed with some rasped and murmured curses, as Hazel pressed his suit. His light frame straddling the monk’s hips, Hazel smiled down at him wickedly for a short moment before he deftly divested him of the tight black top. The immaculate white gloves still in place, Hazel rippled his elegant slender fingers across the hills and valleys of Sanzo’s slim muscular chest and arms, paying special attention to his small pink nipples, delighting in making them immediately harden with a slight twist of his fingertips.

“Oh, Mr. Sanzo, how truly beautiful ya are,” he whispered admiringly as he leaned down and rained kisses across his neck and chest.

“Now let’s get rid of these nasty old things.”

He slid down the bouzu’s legs and unzipped his jeans and pulled them off in one clean motion, lifting up enough to get them off completely and then settling back down.

Now naked but for his tight black sleeves, Sanzo hissed as Hazel trailed the soft white pads of his gloved fingers lovingly up and down his fully-hard cock. Hazel grinned coyly as he gazed admiringly in houshi’s amethyst eyes, and began languidly stroking his cock in firm, knowing strokes. Sanzo found himself arching into Hazel’s touch in spite of himself, and a long slow groan escaped his gritted teeth.

“Oh, my goodness,” Hazel lilted as the first silver drops from the tip of Sanzo’s sex began to moisten his white cotton fingertips, “well, I guess we’ll just have to do something about this, now, won’t we?”

He leaned down and caught the glistening drop on the tip of his tongue, rolling his eyes to heaven as if it was the most delicious candy in the world.

“Why, Mister Sanzo, how sweet ya are… I must have more, if ya will allow me?”

Asking, but taking without waiting for the answer, Hazel slid further down Sanzo’s legs and rested on his knees between them. Kneeling as if in prayer, he bowed down and took Sanzo’s cock in his mouth, slowly and deliberately, taking his length in bit by bit until Sanzo was buried deeply in his throat. The foreign priest uttered a long quiet moan deep in his throat, the first sign he betrayed of not being completely in control of the situation.

Sanzo’s head was pressed back hard into his pillow and his eyes scrunched shut tight as he concentrated on not coming right away, wanting to prolong the pleasure. He felt he was about to explode, feeling his sex so wonderfully surrounded by the all-encompassing heat of the young priest’s soft velvet mouth. As soon as Hazel slowly started bobbing his head up and down, the monk knew he wasn’t going to be able to last long. On some level he still felt conflicted about allowing such intimacies with this man, someone that he wasn’t even entirely sure wasn’t their enemy.

His body was definitely urging him towards something that had nothing to do with thought or reason or anything but resolving the aching killing need that was growing in his balls. He knew it all too well, it was that same grinding unresolved urge that he suppressed every time he saw the fucking kappa strutting naked in the onsen, every time the damn monkey squirmed around too much while sitting on his lap, every time Hakkai stared at him too long with those fucking infinitely deep green eyes of his… And now, every time that goddamn Hazel Grosse batted those deep blue eyes at him, switched that witchy little ass at him, laughed that little flirty laugh at him, as much as he tried not to, he felt it then, too. Now it was clear why Hazel made been driving him insane. It had nothing to do with the amulet, or his creepy sidekick, or his background that was so eerily similar to his own. He had to admit, it was because he had wanted this. He had wanted to touch and feel and taste the slim pale body beneath the layers of dark robes and the smug smile. He had wanted to fuck Hazel since the first time he had seen him, but being who he was he could never let himself think such things, much less do them, especially about the people he traveled with, especially while they were stuck on this fucking field trip from hell together. And about a foreign priest… the possible complications were too endless to contemplate.

But as Hazel swirled his tongue expertly around the head of his cock and teased the tiny slit with the tip of his talented muscle, once again thought and reason gave way and his hesitations faded into nothingness, lost in the onrush of blissful feelings overtaking him.

Hazel lovingly wrapped his elegant fingers around Sanzo’s balls, gently kneading them and massaging the area between his balls and ass while he worked his magic with his mouth, eliciting yet another agonized groan from the monk. As Hazel learned what movements and pressures got the most reaction from the other priest, he quickly perfected his technique, and Sanzo’s pleasure escalated swiftly. Not wanting things to be over too quickly, he slowed down, teasing the tip of Sanzo’s cock with his tongue and letting the monk come back from the brink just a bit before he began again. Sanzo moaned in frustration and arched his hips, trying to force his cock further into Hazel’s warm cavern. He looked down at Hazel, and as he saw his sex vanishing into those small pert lips, that pale angelic face so totally focused on fellating him, and those slender gloved fingers curling softly around his sac, the visual alone was almost enough to send him spiraling over the edge, and his frustration grew almost unbearable.

“Tch… you started this, goddammit, now finish it…” he snarled irritably, his jaw clenched, gripping tight handfulls of the bedsheets to stop himself from taking the young man’s head in his hands.

“Ya ain’t getting impatient, are ya, Mister Sanzo?” Hazel teased and chuckled softly. “ I reckon that’s kinda funny fer someone who said they didn’t want me here in the first place.”

“Just* get* on* with* it!” Sanzo growled throatily.

“Dontcha worry now, my dear Mister Sanzo,” he laughed merrily.

Hazel stood and pulled off the light blue long nightshirt he had worn into the room. His pale skin, more pale even than Sanzo’s, had an unearthly beauty in the dim light of the room. As Sanzo looked at the young foreigner, standing silhouetted in the moonlight coming in through the window, the light glinting off of his amulet, his hair glowing almost silver, he had to admit to himself that the young priest did have a kind of extraordinary beauty all his own. He wondered briefly what Hazel’s life had been like after he had lost his “master”, and what strange path had led him from there to this point where their differing yet similar lives had converged.

Those thoughts evaporated quickly as Hazel straddled his body again, preparing to seat himself on his cock. Sanzo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“But you… I don’t want… Look,now…” he protested, feeling at least a minimal concern for the man’s well-being, in spite of Hazel being an intruder in his room and a foreign irritant in his life.

“Oh, Mister Sanzo, meus carus, ain’t ya sweet?(1.) And I didn’t think ya cared!” Hazel smiled contentedly. “Not to worry, I took care of myself before I came ta see ya. My Father Filbert taught me to always be prepared for anything in life.”

Hazel grinned as he took a small glass phial from the pocket of his nightshirt where he had hung it on the wrought iron bedstead.

“Let’s just finish gettin’ all ready now, shall we? Now hold out your hand, my sweet priest,” he directed.

Hazel smiled as took Sanzo’s hand and he shook all the liquid from the phial into it, tossing the empty phial on the floor.

Covering Sanzo’s hand with his gloved one, he guided the monk’s hand in lavishly applying the oil from the phial to his cock. Sanzo gasped as they slid the slippery liquid up and down his hard shaft, which was by now quite straining with the urgency of his unfulfilled desire. He had to concentrate hard not to lose control just from the sudden luxurious, surprisingly erotic feeling of touching his own dick with someone else’s hand wrapped around his, especially with the slippery oil adding to the sensation. Hazel then guided their hands to his own sex, closing his eyes and moaning quietly as they slicked up his cock with the last of the oil.

He leaned forward and kissed Sanzo deeply and fervently again, and then rocked back, carefully guiding Sanzo’s cock toward his prepared orifice.

Hazel cried out, “Mater Misericordiae!” as he bit his lip and sat back on his heels, settling the monk’s full length into his entrance. (2.) He slowly started moving back and forth, up and down, observing Sanzo keenly to try to find what motions most pleased the sighing, groaning blond man below him. As he undulated on top of Sanzo, his breath hitched and he let out a small sharp groan when one particular movement brought vivid shocks of pleasure to both of them. The frisson of pleasure sent his gloved hand involuntarily reaching for his own cock before he stopped himself, while Sanzo’s hands clutched roughly at the muscles of Hazel’s ass as he moved over him.

Sanzo groaned loudly from the incredible sensation as Hazel first took his length inside him, and every move after that only felt better and better. There was no bad motion, it was all tight and hot and wondrous. He sensed when Hazel’s breath hitched and he heard him moan that there was a moment of vulnerability and he seized the opportunity that was given him.

“So this is what you want, eh Priest?” he hissed out as he grabbed Hazel’s wrists and deftly flipped him over, still managing to stay rooted deeply inside him. He pulled Hazel’s knees up to his shoulders to be better able to drive his cock into him and forged ahead.

“Is this what you wanted me to do, Hazel?” he snarled as he thrust into him, deep and hard.

He had seen Hazel start to reach for his own cock before and then abruptly stop, denying himself that pleasure, and he felt it lying slick and hard between them as he reached down and grabbed it.

“And I suppose you wanted me to do this, too?” he growled. “Did I do this in your dreams?” he demanded as he jerked Hazel’s cock in time with his thrusts.

Hazel’s deep blue eyes narrowed in an almost indescribable expression. It was a mixture of amusement, gratitude, fulfillment, and sheer bliss. “Yes…thank you, yes. Sanzo..yes, that would be most lovely… oh .. most lovely of you…”

Sanzo realized from how tight he felt that this strange priest didn’t do this all that often; he would almost have wondered if this was his first time, if he hadn’t been so damn good at it. But he felt so hot and sweet around his cock, and damn him for breaking into his fucking hotel room and starting all this up with him anyway, when he would much rather have just been left alone. And fuck him for making him face this thing he would have been better off not knowing, goddammit, fuck him just fuck him fuck him fuck him. He plunged into Hazel over and over, fast and hard, and it didn’t take long until he felt his world collapsing inwards, nothing left there at all but the stars behind his eyes and the pounding of his heart and the incredible spasms ripping through his body, leaving him panting and totally spent, feeling empty and hollowed-out and clean, despite the sweat and cum and maybe even some blood. He felt very, very tired and sleepy and somehow clean.

As Hazel felt the monk’s climax approach, heard his guttural moans, and saw the ecstatic agony on Sanzo’s beautiful face, that was all it took for his own rapture to commence. Feeling Sanzo’s strong hand around his member, he found his final release, the hot pearly strings shooting from him, bridging between their bodies. He almost felt sad as he felt the last few throbbing pulses of the monk’s cock deep within him, and he sighed regretfully when it completely subsided and that deep union of their bodies separated.

Sanzo lay dazed on top of the foreign priest for several moments as their racing heartbeats slowed and they both fought to catch their breath. As he came to his senses, he quickly moved as far away as he could from Hazel on the small bed and faced the dark wet window, grabbing the closest blanket to cover his naked form.

“Are ya still are so shy with me…Sanzo?” Hazel asked in a soft lilting voice, touching his shoulder gently, still wearing the gloves he had never taken off.

“You got what you wanted, now just leave.”

“Ah, Mister Sanzo, ya’ve gone and underestimated me once again.”

Hazel sat up in the bed and reached for his nightshirt and pulled it over him before continuing. Smoothing it back around him, and patting his hair back into place, he went on.

“I know what the rain does to ya, that’s why I came to ya tonight.” His voice dropped low and became quiet, almost a whisper, his lilting accent barely discernible. “ It mocks my heart also. Don’t forget we share a tragic past.”

Sanzo shrugged and shook his head irritably. He refused to turn around, fixing his eyes on a point of light outside in the darkness… somewhere.

“Whatever… Stay... Go... Suit yourself. I don’t care. I’m going to sleep.” He slid down into the bed with his back pointedly to Hazel and the blanket wrapped around him like a mummy.

“An excellent idea. And dontcha worry, we don’t need ta ever speak about this night to our travelin’ companions. Now you sleep - I’ll watch over you, and keep the monsters away, just for tonight. Go on now, Mister Sanzo, sweet dreams.“

Sanzo couldn’t see it, but Hazel made the Sign of the Cross over his sleeping form as he lay facing the rainy window in the night.

The next morning, some time after sun-up, Sanzo woke and was surprised to find himself feeling much more rested than he had in quite some time. As he came fully awake and the memories of the past night came rushing back, he sat bolt upright in the bed and looked around the room in shock. He was alone, and nothing in the room seemed any different than it had been when he had lain down for bed last night. The lock was on the door from the inside, just as he had left it.

So… Surely it was a dream. It must have been a dream. He shook his head at his foolishness, thinking that was the last time he would ever mix that much sake and that particular kind of spicy dumpling at the same meal, especially that close to bedtime, if that was the kind of bizarre dream it was going to give him.

Realizing that it was much later than he usually got up, he figured he’d better shower and pack and get downstairs quickly. The saru would surely be chewing the legs off of the tables in the dining room by now: if he hadn’t had his breakfast by this time he would be starving beyond all reason, and Sanzo knew Hakkai was too polite to start the morning meal without him. He thought how good it would be to get on the road, back to their old routines, to get back to normal. The way things had been before…

As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed he searched for his sandals where they should have been by the bed, and as he did his foot hit something small and hard on the floor.

He looked down at the floor and there next to his sandal, lying like a tiny messageless bottle washed up on a faraway beach, was a small empty glass phial.


~owari~

Footnotes:

1. meus carus - Latin - my dear
2. Mater Misericordiae - Latin - Mother of Mercy

Author's note: This story was a birthday gift for ryukin_blue, my dear friend and adopted niece, who was nice enough to let me revisit it, give it a much-needed tweaking, and share it here.