Until The End Of Time

Author’s Notes: Post Journey. AU. For the most lovely kispexi2, on the occasion of her birthday. She asked for something ‘fruity,’ I hope this fits the bill. With much love! xxooxx :-D

Until the End of Time

Goku loved to shop in the open-air market in Chang’an. It was a tantalizing, sensory overload of sights, smells and sound. He loved ambling through the aisles of brightly colored fruits and vegetables packed in neat displays, the orderly rows of dried sausage and Peking ducks, skins crisp and caramel-colored hanging safely under makeshift glass enclosures.

The vendors called out to passersby, advertising that their produce was the freshest to be found in all of Chang’an, or their meats only from the finest, free-range stock, but Goku sped by heedlessly, his shopping list in his hand. He was a man on a mission and, despite how easily his stomach’s needs could distract him, Goku refused to give in to the Siren calls and tantalizing aromas that beckoned to him.

Goku had left Keiun before Sanzo had awakened. In fact, he hadn’t seen the monk for the better part of a week, having been driven from the monastery by Sanzo when he’d taken ill with the flu at the end of April. Sanzo wasn’t a patient man to begin with and he had less patience as a patient, Goku reflected, wincing at the thought of how much the harisen, which had been abandoned as a corrective instrument shortly after they’d succeeded in their mission (which had also coincided with Sanzo sleeping with him), had stung. More than the physical pain though, which was really negligible, was the injury to his psyche that Goku had felt. Despite the freshness of the bitter memory, and the righteously indignant rebuke that culminated with him seeking refuge with Koumyou Sanzo (Hakkai and Gojyo having left on a ‘honeymoon’), Goku smiled at the obvious understatement. Sanzo was a shitty patient, he amended silently.

Koumyou, on the other hand, had welcomed Goku with open arms, making sure his belly was full and his time was occupied with pleasant diversions for the duration of his stay. Koumyou reminded Goku a lot of Hakkai, except he wasn’t as scary. Goku could feel Koumyou’s power, though; he was every bit as strong as anyone Goku’d ever met, maybe even stronger in some regards, but there was just a sense of serenity that surrounded Koumyou and seemed to envelop everyone in his presence. No one could remain upset or tense in the presence of Koumyou Sanzo, not even Sanzo.

As Goku wended his way through narrow alleys, he recalled the chaotic moments at Houtou Castle after he’d shattered the Ox-demon’s incubator and dashed all hopes of his resurrection. As the walls of the laboratory deep within the castle crumbled about them, a flash of blinding white light harbingered the presence of a God. Goku didn’t know how he knew it was Her, but once he laid eyes upon Her, he was innately certain She was the Merciful Goddess, Kanzeon Bosatsu.

Congratulations, Konzen! It was dicey there for a while, but I knew you guys had it in you.

Sanzo spun around from where his empty gun had been trained on his nemesis, Ukoku Sanzo or, Ni Jianyi, who still stood, wearing a maddening grin, flagrantly intact despite being shot at from close range. Six bullets lay impotent at his feet. The guy was hard to kill!

What do you want, you bitch?

A fine way to greet your Aunt. I should be offended. Goku tried to reach Sanzo, but found himself rooted in place. Looking around he realized that everyone was frozen in place, and chunks of mortar, caught mid-fall, floated in the air around them.

Or maybe I should just leave without giving you your reward, She laughed. It was a light-hearted, melodious sound, full of mirth.

I don’t want anything from you, Sanzo hissed.

No? Looks like you could use a little help getting rid of that little cockroach. She gestured towards Ukoku. He’s a pretty tenacious one, isn’t he?

He’s quite able to hear you Ukoku interjected.

The Goddess came to stand next to Sanzo and leaned an elbow on his shoulder. Goku noticed how tall she was. And well-endowed.

Whaddya say, nephew? We’ve already got the whole immortality thing covered for you and your buddies, so make a wish!

Ukoku’s eyes widened, and Goku thought he saw a flash of fear on his face, before he turned to face his would-be executioner.

Come on, Kouryuu, he said in his oiliest best. What’s it gonna be?

Sanzo shrugged Kanzeon off of him and turned to her, a guarded look on his face.

Anything? he asked. Goku tried to cry out, tried to stop Sanzo, but he found his vocal cords paralyzed. Still, he thought with rising panic, if they were going to beat Ukoku, they should do it fair and square, not with the help of some floozy!

Anything, She echoed, nodding her head, the action accompanied by the jangling of the jewelry she was wearing.

I … I want Koumyou back. Sanzo’s voice was so soft that Goku could barely hear the wish, but immediately, Goku felt immense relief over Sanzo’s choice.

The Goddess snorted. You’ve saved the world and you want your Daddy? She asked, incredulous. You could annihilate him! She waved a hand in Ukoku’s direction. Get even, Konzen, you know you want to! She goaded.

He doesn’t matter anymore. Sanzo clutched the Muten Sutra in his hand. He is nothing.

My, my, my … my nephew’s all grown up. The Merciful Goddess sniffed dramatically and wiped away an imaginary tear. As you wish, darling, She added, pecking Sanzo on the cheek. He recoiled but before he could retaliate her Her image was fading, another form taking shape in Her place. And then, suddenly, everything was in motion again, released from the stasis. Clouds of dust puffed about, setting off coughing spasms and sneezing fits.

By the time Goku, along with everyone else, realized they’d been freed from suspended animation, he was witnessing something he never in his wildest dreams would have imagined. Sanzo’s shoulders were shaking, tears streaking his dusty cheeks, and in his clenched fists were folds of Koumyou’s robes.

Koumyou, for his part, took his resurrection in stride, surreal as the moment was. He stood in place among the rubble, a bemused smile on his lips. Ukoku was nowhere to be seen.

Despite their unequivocal victory, despite everything they’d been through on their journey, that night Sanzo barely spoke to the rest of the ikkou or to Kougaiji’s group. That night, Sanzo sat with the elder priest, heads bent in quiet conversation, and drank pot after pot of sake, adding spent cigarettes to a growing pile in the ashtray set on the table between them. Eventually, after everyone else had wandered off, leaving Goku alone with the two monks, and completely ignored, he took his leave and retired to an oversized bedroom and an overstuffed bed, miserably alone, the undeniable truth plainly written for him. Sanzo had never looked at him the way he’d gazed at Koumyou. Goku felt the unmistakable pang of jealousy lance through him.

Sometime in the middle of the night he was awakened suddenly by the sound of his door slamming open, the heavy wood panels banging against the wall opposite his bed. Jarred awake as he was, Goku’s senses were immediately on alert for the immanent threat, momentarily forgotten was that there was no longer any reason to be on edge. He immediately recognized the silhouette listing in the doorway.

“This is my room, Sanzo,” he said warily. He reached over and switched on the bedside lamp to illuminate the strange surroundings.

“I know that,” Sanzo replied gruffly, advancing toward him.

There was something predatory in the way he approached, and Goku found himself with his back pressed against the backboard, neck craned. He tipped his face up, his eyes never leaving Sanzo’s, futilely trying to decipher his expression.

“Sanzo?”

“Stop me.”

Sanzo’s voice was hushed and husky and there was the hint of a needful quality that Goku would have liked to contemplate -- to unravel and turn over in his mind -- but then Sanzo’s mouth was on his and Goku’s senses were filled with the smell of stale smoke, which always seemed to cling to Sanzo like a second skin. Sanzo tasted of sake and tobacco, a bitter tang that Goku could only describe as sublime if he’d been able to think straight. As it was, though, his thoughts were traveling willy-nilly and at the speed of light, trying to process whether ‘stop me’ was a challenge or a plea, but neither conclusion was satisfactory to Goku, because at that moment, stopping Sanzo was the last thing he wanted to do.

Calloused hands gripped his shoulders, strong fingers digging into taut flesh as Sanzo pressed closer. Earlier, Goku had stripped and slipped into bed naked, and now, as Sanzo crawled onto the mattress, their lips still sealed in the most amazing kiss that Goku’d ever experienced – not that he had any point of reference beyond that one kiss from a nameless girl in a no-name youkai settlement -- it became painfully evident that he was achingly hard. More so when Sanzo freed one hand to yank the covers back, revealing the flushed head of Goku’s dick. Sanzo’s palm feathered over the engorged tip and Goku exhaled a muted whimper into Sanzo’s hot mouth.

Sanzo broke the kiss to gaze upon the swollen flesh, his brow arching in an unspoken question when his violet eyes met Goku’s.

Goku felt like a fish out of water, or maybe he was drowning, either way he felt like his lungs would explode if he couldn’t manage to force some air into them, and if that happened then he would die before … before …

“You ok?”

He nodded his head, vehemently. Because he was more than ok, in fact all he could think of was that he wanted more. More of Sanzo kissing him, more of Sanzo’s hands on his body, more of everything Sanzo. Goku breathed in a huge gulp of air, and then laughed out loud. He couldn’t believe that earlier he’d actually been jealous of Koumyou Sanzo.

“What’s so funny, Monkey?” Sanzo’s voice took on a warning edge.

“Nothing! I’m just happy!” Happy didn’t even begin to describe it, but Goku wasn’t about to wax poetic about how the simplest brush of Sanzo’s fingertips ghosting over his cheek set every nerve in his body singing. He leaned into the touch.

“Tch. Such a needy pain in the ass.”

There was no bite to Sanzo’s complaint, just the warmth of his breath caressing Goku’s face. And then he was kissing Goku again. And Goku, whose arms had been leaden at his sides, raised his hands to tentatively touch Sanzo’s hair, only to grab fistfuls when he took Sanzo’s groan at the contact as encouragement.

Soon enough he was writhing under Sanzo’s weight, pinned as Sanzo wriggled out of his vestments, carelessly flinging each article away from the bed. Pelvises ground together, trapping twin erections, and hands, too long starved for contact roamed freely over naked bodies. The heat of Sanzo’s skin and the heady smell of his arousal were almost too much for Goku to handle, when he opened his eyes – eyes he didn’t even know he’d closed – the room spun about him; he was thankful to be lying down.

“Turn over.”

For a few seconds Goku only blinked at Sanzo. He wasn’t stupid -- just inexperienced -- he knew what was being asked of him, or rather ordered, and that command in itself had his dick twitching in response, but his brain was having a hard time catching up to what his body had already surmised and was fully on board with.

Goku lowered his eyes and scanned Sanzo’s smooth chest, his eyes taking in blush, erect nipples. They looked delectable, and Goku imagined what they would feel like under his tongue, pebble-hard points swelling under the muscle as he teased and worried them. His mouth watered. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever seen Sanzo in various states of undress – he had, at least a million times -- but never in this context, and certainly not ever sporting the erection that Goku zeroed in on. Goku tore his eyes away and turned over, rising on his hands and knees, suddenly feeling overexposed and self-conscious. He heard Sanzo fiddling with something and then his hands traced the contours of Goku’s bottom, gently separating his cheeks, Goku stood as still as he could, but his body was trembling in anticipation. Then he felt something slick and pointy pressing into him and he moaned wantonly when a finger breached his entrance.

He wondered where in hell Sanzo had found lubricant, it wasn’t something a priest normally carried around and, as Sanzo stretched him, quickly adding a second, then third finger, Goku’s mind turned over that bit of knowledge, because he couldn’t see Sanzo asking someone at Houtou Castle for any, which meant that he’d been carrying a vial around for some time, which meant that he’d planned for this. And that was about the hottest thing Goku could imagine.

Goku’s thoughts stopped cold as Sanzo entered him, and he felt his body opening up to this new intrusion, welcoming it, even. And then it didn’t matter to him how one of Buddhism’s holiest priest’s had secreted away a tube of lubricant, or for how long, or that Sanzo had actually planned it out, because all that mattered to Goku was that Sanzo was rolling his hips and snapping them against his ass and, if Goku thought his body was on fire before, surely he was being consumed by the flames now. Sanzo leaned forward and Goku pressed back against him and they both groaned in unison as his dick slid further in, Goku’s body eagerly absorbing every last centimeter, feeling it filling him up, the tissue of his passage stretching to accommodate Sanzo.

Sanzo leaned forward, his body molding to Goku’s. His teeth scraped over the point of Goku’s shoulder and he snaked one hand around Goku’s middle to claim his erection; he howled at the contact and he began to thrust into the friction. Sanzo responded with his own frenetic pace. Goku bit his lip hard because he thought that he was surely dreaming, that he would wake up in the morning sticky cum spattering his belly and his sheets stiff with it. The coppery taste of his blood registered as he skimmed his tongue over the abrasion.

Sex was everything Goku imagined it would be, only better because it was Sanzo’s soft grunts that filled his ears, Sanzo’s unique scent perfuming the air, mingling with his more familiar musk, and Sanzo pounding into him as if there would be no tomorrow. As Sanzo’s thrusts became more and more erratic, Goku felt himself crest, his climax dragged out of him by Sanzo’s hand, his seed spilling over Sanzo’s fist. Seconds later heat bloomed deep inside him, and then Sanzo slowly ground to a halt. When he slipped out of him, Goku collapsed to the bed, utterly spent, utterly content. He expected Sanzo to get up and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, Sanzo pulled him close, pressing his chest to Goku’s back, and pulled the covers over them both.

“Mine,” Sanzo murmured into Goku’s damp hair and Goku’s heart skipped a beat, because, even though in his mind he’d always belonged to Sanzo, it had been his little secret. Hearing the sentiment uttered from Sanzo’s lips was better than a million ‘I love yous,’ a phrase Goku could bet his life he’d never hear him say. Goku’s last conscious thought that night was that if what had just happened had been a dream, it was the best damned dream he’d ever had.

They’d slept together ever since, except for the past week when Goku had exiled himself to Kinzan. Sanzo was never one to stand on propriety and his relationship with Goku was no exception. He didn’t care if all of Chang’an knew his and Goku’s arrangement, and though Goku heard whisperings behind his back, for the most part the monks turned a blind eye to their spiritual leader’s transgressions. Besides, sex nearly every night, and the return of Koumyou had actually managed to blunt Sanzo’s savage temper, and no one felt the need to complain about that.

Goku looked down at the bags he was carrying; he scarcely remembered buying all the ingredients for the special meal he was planning to cook Sanzo; so lost in his thoughts he’d been. As he walked back through the open market on his way back to Keiun, Goku scanned the aisles looking for a suitable dessert, finally settling upon a pint of the deepest, ripest cherries he could find.

When he’d arrived at Kinzan a week prior, Koumyou had greeted him with a book – a belated birthday present. Goku didn’t know how the elder sanzo had known his birthday had passed; it wasn’t something that he or Sanzo had ever celebrated, not that it mattered to Goku anyway, but it wasn't lost on him that Sanzo must have talked to Koumyou about him. A lot.

At first he’d thought the book How To Cook Everything was some kind of joke on the part of Koumyou, but it turned out the cookbook really did have a tremendous array of recipes -- all of them relatively uncomplicated -- and Goku was looking forward to making something special for Sanzo to eat to celebrate his recovery from the flu.

The illness, for Goku, had underscored there was still some residual inherent frailty to Sanzo. It served to remind him that despite the Merciful Goddess’s assurances, Sanzo was human, and he was growing old, as evident by the silver hair Goku’d seen nestled amidst the mass of blond. It was only one, and for all Goku knew it had been there for a while, but he’d never noticed it until six months ago. Now it stood out like a stubborn beacon, taunting him. He would have liked to just yank it out and be done with it, but Goku had heard if you pulled a grey hair out, several more would grow in its place. So instead it mocked Goku from the safety of Sanzo’s head.

The temple was quiet when Goku returned from his shopping excursion. He marched straight into the kitchen, placed his groceries on the long island that was used for preparing food and immediately set to work. He’d decided upon a recipe of glass noodles and fresh vegetables in a fish broth, something both light and chock full of nutrients.

As he julienned carrots and then ginger, Goku thought about how his arrival home the night before had been greeted, shaking his head in disbelief. Never in all the years he’d been a denizen of Keiun had anyone remotely expressed any pleasure in Goku’s comings and goings. At best, he’d been viewed as a pest, at worst, competition for Sanzo’s precious time and patience. The night before, however, despite returning well past nightfall, Goku had been greeted warmly. With honorifics. And that morning, he’d been treated to a feast of no less than four varieties of steamed buns, none of them leftovers.

Goku could only surmise that Sanzo must have been unbearable while he was away.

When he’d assembled the meal and put it on a tray, Goku carefully made his way to Sanzo’s office, only to find the room empty. His heart sank and he wondered if Sanzo had been called away on business and that all his preparations were for naught. He also felt a dull ache because he missed Sanzo. Goku had slept in his old room when he came home because he hadn’t wanted to disturb Sanzo, and then he’d heard the shower running when he got up in the morning and figured they’d catch up over dinner. He turned away from the darkened room, nearly colliding with Qiang, one of the assistant clerks.

“Goku-san!” he exclaimed, tucking a sheaf of papers under one arm and steadying the tray with his hands. “Are you looking for Sanzo-sama? He’s working in his private apartments today.” Qiang leaned in close. “He’s been in a terrible snit since you left,” he volunteered. “We’re all so very glad to have you back.”

Goku felt his face grow hot in a blush. “I—I’m happy to be back, too,” he stammered, turning toward the direction Quiang had come from.

As he approached their rooms, Goku was first alerted to Sanzo’s presence by the stale smoke that hung in the air. He paused at the door to their bedroom, a room he hadn’t realized he’d missed until that very moment. Sure he’d missed Sanzo, but now Goku realized that his concept of ‘Sanzo’ had come to include the place they called home.

Sanzo was in bed, papers strewn about him. When Goku stepped through the doorway, he barely looked up over the frames of his glasses.

“How long were you planning on staying away?” he gritted.

He was spoiling for an argument, and Goku’s first instinct was to give it right back. It would feel good to get all the frustration and anger off his chest in the short run, but he bit his tongue; someone had to break the cycle.

“I made you somethin’ to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

Goku carefully sat at the foot of the bed. Sanzo bent his head to his paperwork, his mouth set in a frown. After a few more seconds of silence he pushed the papers away, letting them cascade to the floor.

“Fine. If it will shut you up.”

Goku didn’t point out that he hadn’t said anything. He slid the tray over Sanzo’s lap, unfolding the legs while Sanzo held it by the handles.

“I can’t finish this.” Sanzo remarked, surveying the contents of the tray.

“Just eat a little. I’m gonna get my stuff an’ unpack.” Goku left him and retrieved the duffel from his old bedroom. He put away his things in silence, his only accompaniment a soft slurp here and there, and the spoon dinging against the side of the bowl. When he was done unpacking, Goku picked up the scattered papers and set the sheaf neatly on the nightstand.

“You made this?” Sanzo returned the emptied vessel to the tray and looked at the bowl of cherries Goku had carefully pitted before adding them to the meal. He’d smothered them in a simple syrup to enhance their natural sweetness.

Goku nodded his head mutely.

“It’s pretty good,” Sanzo admitted. Goku’s heart soared. ‘Pretty good’ was high praise, coming from Sanzo.

“Did you have a good time at Kinzan?” The question seemed like a neutral one, but for Goku it was a minefield. It was nice visiting with Koumyou and he kept Goku occupied, but Goku had missed Sanzo terribly.

“Koumyou isn’t you,” he settled on.

“That’s diplomatic,” Sanzo snorted, the frown once again returning to his lips.

“I missed you, Sanzo. But I don’t like getting’ hit.”

Sanzo flinched and averted his gaze.

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I’m sor—“

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Sanzo cut him off.

Goku sighed. “But I feel bad! I don’t wanna fight with you! Being away, that was one less week of being with you.”

“What are you going on about, now?” Sanzo gruffed. “We have an eternity together, remember?”

“But—“

“But, what?”

“Your hair.”

Sanzo looked at Goku as if he’d grown a second head. The furrow between his eyes deepened.

“My hair?”

Goku looked away, through the window that faced a small, private courtyard. The solar lights that lined the garden beds were winking on.

“What about my hair, Goku?”

A shiver went up Goku’s spine at the mention of his name. It was a warning that things were getting serious.

“Youhaveagreyone,” he exhaled, glancing over in Sanzo’s direction. He was massaging his temples with one hand. Silence yawned between them until Sanzo broke it.

“Come sit next to me,” he said, patting the empty space beside him.

Goku felt relief that he wasn’t being chastised or ridiculed. He clambered on the bed and scooted next to Sanzo, close enough that their shoulders were touching. Goku leaned into Sanzo, feeling his solid frame.

“You pitted the cherries?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Goku reached for the bowl. As he settled back, Sanzo placed the tray on the floor. He picked up a cherry and offered it to Sanzo. Goku’s eyes slid shut when he felt the heat of Sanzo’s mouth engulf his thumb and forefinger.

“San-zoh…” he whispered, melting.

Sanzo’s fingers curled around Goku’s wrist as he tongued Goku’s fingers, sliding the muscle between the digits. Goku’s knees began to tremble. In fact his whole body was vibrating from the sensation. Sanzo released his hand, and Goku took it as an invitation. As he moved, the bowl slipped from his lap; Sanzo reflexively grabbed for it, saving them from a mess. He deposited the bowl back in Goku’s lap, a genuine smile curling his lips.

“If you make a mess in our bed, I’ll make you clean it up with your mouth.” Sanzo folded his glasses and put them atop his papers on the nightstand.

When he wasn’t angry, Sanzo’s words were always chosen carefully. The use of ‘our’ wasn’t lost on Goku. He grinned broadly. Long forgotten was the week he’d been away, as well as the reason he’d left in the first place.

“Really?” he asked. With the bowl in his hands, Goku straddled Sanzo’s narrow hips. His gaze slid from Sanzo’s face to the smooth expanse of naked skin that disappeared underneath a lightweight blanket. Goku wondered if Sanzo were naked underneath too, and that thought sent a jolt of electricity through him. He really hoped so.

“You think I’m kidding?” Sanzo’s voice was low, but Goku didn’t find it threatening.

“Unh-uh,” Goku replied. He tipped the bowl forward, and watched, entranced as some bright red syrup dribbled onto Sanzo’s chest. “Oops,” he intoned, raising his eyes to challenge Sanzo’s gaze. And then he tipped the entire bowl.

Sanzo breathed out a hiss, and then he gently took the empty bowl from Goku and set it aside. Cherries slid down his torso, some falling onto the covers. It was a big mess, getting bigger by the second.

“You. Filthy. Ape.” Sanzo said without malice as Goku scooted down and wrapped his arms around Sanzo’s waist.

He could feel the hard rise of Sanzo’s erection against his chest as he began to work his tongue over Sanzo’s skin, lapping up cherries and syrup. Sanzo’s fingers threaded through his hair, massaging Goku’s scalp before sliding over his shoulders and back. He felt the material of his shirt being tugged on and Goku raised his body, helping Sanzo rid him of his shirt. He sucked on one rosy nipple then turned his attention to the other, the heady scent of Sanzo’s arousal mixing with the tart cherry aroma.

Goku didn’t care about the remnants of dessert, hell he’d wash the sheets himself. What he cared about was the feel of Sanzo’s body, solid in his arms and the way Sanzo’s hands traced aimless patterns over his back. But he needed was to feel Sanzo inside him. Goku tore himself away from Sanzo’s chest with one last pull on a sensitive nub and then straightened up to undo the buttons of his jeans. He wriggled out of them as Sanzo kicked off the covers, revealing his sex. Goku leaned over and licked the along the length with a flattened tongue, and then once again he straddled Sanzo, this time slowly descending – impaling himself – on his cock. The burn was exquisite, but Goku had learned that if he took it slow enough, his muscles would stretch around Sanzo and they both enjoyed that sensation immensely.

“Fuck,” Sanzo whispered, his hands curling over Goku’s shoulders. He didn’t press Goku down, though; he let Goku set the pace. Goku knew how difficult it was for Sanzo to hold back, and part of him yearned for him to let go. Goku knew Sanzo couldn’t hurt him.

When he was finally seated, Sanzo buried deep inside him, they both stayed perfectly still, holding their breaths, gazes locked. Then Sanzo pulled Goku’s face to him and, as he pressed their lips together, his tongue invading Goku’s mouth with impunity, Sanzo rolled his hips and thrust upward.

A low feral groan bubbled up from Goku’s throat and he flattened himself against Sanzo, arching his back to match the curve of Sanzo’s spine, opening himself up further. Sanzo’s hands slid the length of Goku’s body and he cupped Goku’s ass, blunt nails digging into Goku’s flesh as he continued to fuck Goku, his pace building to a crescendo. Goku gasped with each drive, his mouth trailing over every part of Sanzo he could reach. Goku knew that neither of them could last long; the heat of their desire had flared so quickly. He felt his climax bearing down on him, and as he came, he bit down against Sanzo’s collarbone and felt his racing pulse underneath his lips. Sanzo came milliseconds later; Goku’s muscles still gripping Sanzo’s length as his thrusts subsided.

After a few seconds, Goku straightened up and looked between their bodies. The mess had grown exponentially.

Goku extricated himself from Sanzo’s lap and settled into bed, suddenly feeling bone tired now that all the tension had been relieved.

He felt Sanzo’s weight shift and cracked an eye.

“Hey, where ya going?” he asked drowsily.

“To get cleaned up. You did a shit job,” Sanzo groused.

Goku smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, firmly in Sanzo’s embrace, the sun was streaming in the windows. Goku rolled to face his lover, careful not to disturb him. He propped himself on one elbow to take in the muted lines of Sanzo’s sleeping face; he looked peaceful. Sated, Goku decided.

His gaze traveled up and Goku scanned Sanzo’s head for its renegade grey. He smiled. It was nowhere to be found.

~fin~