sexy_sha | (no subject)

(no subject)

Hakkai thought he was dead.

Gojyo tore thought the Hotel, hunting down every place he thought Hakkai might go. The big library, the small library, the library with all the books bound in green. The really big library. The gardens. The other gardens. His room. Hakkai's old room. Sanzo's room. Bars 1-63.

Nothing.

Hakkai had already killed him once, and now Hakkai thought he was dead. As angry as Gojyo had been at the way Hakkai had treated him, that was nothing in the face of the possibility that Hakkai might hurt himself... or worse. What would he do if he thought Gojyo was gone for good? And what would Sanzo do in response?

As the days ticked by Gojyo grew increasingly frantic in his search, running up one hall and down the next until he collapsed more than once. "All right!" he shouted at last, leaning against the wall in the middle of an empty hallway, dripping with sweat and out of breath from his search. "All right, you fucker, you win. You want us to screw? We'll screw. Just let me find him."

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The first few days had been spent in Sanzo's room, silent and pensive. The garden had been next, but he hadn't lingered. Bars after that, but there was no solace to be found in alcohol. After all, he'd never had a lot of success in getting drunk enough to forget.

It had taken him days to find another room to hole himself up in, and Sanzo be damned, but he wasn't going to deal with his demands for the time being. Right then, all he wanted was some space and quiet time and that was the last thing the monk would've given him.

As it was, the room he'd found was in the same hallway that a certain redhead was in, and Hakkai was on his way back from picking up what would be enough food and drink to last him a few more anti-social days.

As he rounded the corner, he didn't even noticed Gojyo as he mulled over more dull thoughts that seemed to be rolling around in his head.

...and how did he know Hakkai would even want to see him? If the Hotel let them come back together, who's to say that Hakkai would want that? Maybe he was enjoying his time away from Gojyo, and Gojyo's mess and mouth and demands. He'd just promised the Hotel they'd fuck, but what if Hakkai didn't want to? What if Hakkai didn't want him around at all? What if...?

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and before his mind even registered the man coming down the hall Gojyo was moving, those long legs eating up the space until he was close enough. And then those long arms wrapped around Hakkai, grocery bags and all, and held him tight.

He wasn't hurt. He looked terrible, but he was alive, and here, and something hard and cold in Gojyo's chest melted with relief.

"Hi."

Shock was the first thing Hakkai felt. It threatened to replace the chilled pall that had settled over him since stumbling in from the garden that day. No matter what he'd done, he'd been cold since then, with no way to shake it.

Then Gojyo's scent washed over him and Hakkai had to fight a shiver. It was full of nerves and a little fear and other things he had no name for, but whatever they were, they left hims swallowing around the knot in his throat.

Which Gojyo was he? How many had he seen in the hotel? How many times had he seen him in his most recent nightmares?

Hair the color of--- blood dotting the snow-

Hakkai tensed in Gojyo's embrace before he carefully pulled back, then looked up at him with dull, wary eyes. For a long moment, he stared at him, looking like he wanted to say something, but everything and nothing came to mind.

Well. That answered that question.

Ducking his head ashamedly, Gojyo scratched the back of his neck and tried to think of what to say.

"I'm not dead."

Okay, obvious, but it was a good start.

"I just wanted to tell you that."

Obviously.

He watched him for another moment, as if to see if he really was real and there, then turned to open a nearby door. Two steps put him just inside the door, but pausing, he glanced back in what could only be an invitation.

If Gojyo wanted to join him, that is.

For the moment, he'd seemed real enough. Solid and warm and smelled just like his best friend... but if he wasn't, then he more than likely wouldn't stick around too long.

They never did.

Gojyo followed, trailing a cloud of smoke in his wake.

"You're not livin' with Sanzo." Great. Two more points to Team Obvious.

His hands itched to touch Hakkai, but that flat dead stare was more than enough to keep him away. Uncertainty worried at the back of his mind -- was he even sure this was his Hakkai at all?

"What did you...?" He paused, shook his head, and began again.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Of course I do."

His voice was rough and soft with disuse. He hadn't said a word since he came in from the snowy garden. It almost made him sound sick, which was something Hakkai rarely was.

Murmuring for the redhead to close the door, he went about putting his supplies away, sighing softly when he noticed the fresh, unopened pack of cigarettes on the counter of the small kitchen his new room boasted.

"... which one are you?"

Of course there were cigarettes there. Gojyo had made a promise, Hakkai, and the Hotel was going to make sure that he made good on it.

"I'm..." Fuck. He didn't really want to list all the horrors that he'd lived through again, and make them fresh in Hakkai's mind. "Y'know, we really ought t'just start wearin' nametags. It'd make everythin' a lot easier."

Door shut, he sat down at the foot of the bed (not like there was anywhere else to sit) and tossed Hakkai a friendly grin. Nothing wrong here, see? Everything's fine. Really. "So instead of sayin', I'm th'Gojyo who just tried to eat you in th'snow, I could just say I'm Gojyo #3. ..Or 4, or 5, or however many of me you've run into."

"I would prefer not to count."

So he knew. He was the one that Hakkai had watched bleed out into the snow. It had been someone else he hadn't been able to save. The memories were still far too fresh in Hakkai's mind for comfort.

He remained silent until the rest of his groceries were put away, then turned to take in the sight of that familiar redhead sitting on the edge of his neatly made bed.

"... you remember everything, then."

He could still remember the feel of the cold knife blade ripping through his wrists. It almost itched, that memory, deep down almost in the bone itself. Unconsciously, he rubbed over the spot with his thumb.

"This is gettin' to be a habit," he chuckled wryly, trying not to let his horror show. Hakkai looked... fuck, he didn't have a big enough vocabulary to describe how he looked. Really really bad didn't even begin to cover it. He should have been faster. He should have made his deal with the Hotel sooner. He should have...

"An' I've got this shit monk always telling me about attachments an' shit. As much as I don't want to do anythin' he says, I think I'm gonna quit this habit for a bit, whaddya say?"

The motion caught Hakkai's attention, his green eyes flicking to follow it. It made him stiffen a bit as he thought back to how it had felt in the snow. Cold... still so damned cold.

Forcing his gaze away from the motion of Gojyo's thumb, he idly scanned the room as if looking to see if anything was out of place.

"I'm certain he's not too happy with me right now. I left without saying a word to him."

Following Hakkai's eye, Gojyo quickly snatched his hand away, cramming it into the pocket of his jeans. Fuck. So much for not giving Hakkai any reminders.

"Yeah? Fuck that guy, it's what he deserves." Had there always been so many sex toys on that shelf? Not just the usually neon jelly dildos either, but cuffs and gags and floggers and all kinds of... accessories. Gojyo didn't seem to notice.

"He made you sleep on th'floor because he didn't want to be alone. Bastard's worse at holdin' on than any of us are. He can deal."

It was, but each time Hakkai tried to clear it off, more of the toys just appeared when he wasn't looking, each new set a little more perverse. He'd stopped even trying after the fifth reappearance. It just wasn't worth the time.

Shrugging, he shuffled off towards the little fridge and bent to retrieve a beer. Without really looking as he stood back up, he tossed the beer towards the redhead, knowing it was what he'd prefer.

"I really don't care anymore."

Gojyo caught the can with ease, holding it loosely in his lap as he waited for the agitation to settle out. Hakkai was even harder to read than usual, and it was really starting to get worrysome.

"About Sanzo?"

Of course he was hard to read. He wasn't himself. He hadn't been for days.

Sighing, he reached up to rub at the back of his neck and for a moment, he let his weariness show.

"He's someone else I'll lose. I can't have that happen anymore. It's easier if I just don't entertain such attachment..."

Someone else? But... but he always came back. If he was even who Hakkai had been thinking of.

"That sounds an awful lot like you're givin' up," Gojyo quipped, trying for a light, joking tone. "Think you're takin' this non-attachment thing a little too far there, Hakkai!"

Gojyo's tone didn't even shift Hakkai's expression, not that he really had one in the first place. He hadn't even put on his usual smile, which was a sure sign of something being not quite right.

"Perhaps I am giving up. I really don't know anymore. I came back in from the snow that day and I felt... lost. More alone than I had since I lost Kanan. I don't even remember how I made it back to Sanzo's room after that."

When he'd seen Hakkai alive and... and alive, he'd thought that things would be fine. But this? This was far, far worse than he'd imagined. This wasn't Hakkai's familiar smile-while-bleeding pose. No, this was coldly logical.

And Gojyo was so fucking tired of cold.

"But you know it's not real." He didn't even bother with smiles and joking tones - this was far too serious a subject to fuck around with, and he didn't want to risk being misunderstood. "Whether this place makes me a ghost or a fucking kappa or makes me my mom's caretaker for the better part of a decade, you know that none of it's real. You know this."

Maybe that's what this place really was. Maybe it didn't care about the sex so much as hope. Maybe it ate that hope right out of you until there wasn't anything left. If that was the case, then Hakkai was in ever more real danger than any of them knew.

"It's not real?"

That blank expression curled in on itself, shifting into a frown before Hakkai pushed away from the wall and started towards Gojyo. There was no real malice in his step or stance, but there was something aggressive and not quite kind in it, like a cornered animal trying to make its last stand.

"Not real? The blood I had to wash from my hands seemed real enough. The bruises you left on my face were real enough. I was ill after you were a kappa, thanks to you snacking on my liver. That was real. Your mother molesting me while I tried to heal her? That seemed quite real as well."

By now, he was standing over Gojyo, eyes boring into him as if daring him to suggest otherwise.

"I looked for you. After you left. Every day, I looked for you. Then, one day, Sanzo came back to the room smelling of you and sex. I know, we're not 'married' so I have no real claim, but I won't deny that that was the first time I felt truly jealous. After that, you still didn't return, so I stopped looking. I stopped hoping. I just stopped."

He might have come looking for Hakkai out of concern, and he might even have wanted to make peace, but Gojyo would never back down when cornered. Meeting Hakkai's glare with his own, he raised his right hand so that Hakkai could clearly see his bare forearm.

"You see any scars there?" And of course there weren't any... at least, none but the old familiar ones, faded to a pearly grey-pink. "I cut to th'bone on this side, halfway down my arm." And t had hurt, god, so badly. The blade had been so cold, and then the wound itself had pounded with heat, throbbing with his pulse. "You see any cuts?"

The motion pulled Hakkai's attention down to the smooth skin of his offered arm and for a moment, the urge rose to move his hand and slide his fingers along the skin he knew would be warm. Green eyes lingered there for a long, silent moment before he dragged it away and off into the room in general. The proof wasn't there, but it was still so damn vivid in his mind...

"... if nothing is real, then how can I be sure that you are?"

It hadn't been real, but it had felt like it. Gojyo knew as well as Hakkai how hard it was to shake the feeling off. It had only been a few days, but it had felt like ten years alone in that house, caring for his mother. Ten years of hard labor, of hard words, of never being touched except in anger.

His skin crawled with the need for contact and so without letting himself think bout whether or not it was a good idea he reached up and caught Hakkai's arm, pressing his palm to Gojyo's bare and unmarked forearm.

It's whole, see? It was just an illusion. She died, like she was supposed to, and I never cut myself. It wasn't real.

"I dunno," he admitted at last. If you couldn't trust your own memories, what could you trust? "Do you want me t'be here? You want this to be real?"

The one thing all their experiences had in common (as far as Gojyo knew)... the Hotel had never changed them for the better. Could they use that as a metric? If it was good, it was real? Could they really trust that?

It felt like a trap, but nothing else made sense. "'Cause lemme tell you, I sure as hell didn't want t'be suckin' your guts out your ass."

The contact made his fingers twitch. He was right... Gojyo was so warm. He always was. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to wrap that warmth around him and bask in it, all along, for as long as he could manage. It almost surpassed want and headed straight to need, not that he would admit such a thing.

He didn't need. He didn't.

Without thought, he let his fingers slide along Gojyo's warm forearm before he stilled them, fingertips pressing against his pulse.

"... what do you want?"

That was the $64k question, wasn't it? What did he want? To not get turned into a thousand creepy versions of himself would be a good start. To go back to China and finish their mission -- he was supposed to die there, on the road, trying to save the world, not here. Not in the snow, in the cold.

He wanted Hakkai to stop looking like somebody was jumping on his grave, and for Sanzo to never have to be anywhere near a fuck-or-die room and for Goku to never find out where they'd been trapped and he wanted Dokugaku to live through the upcoming fight and he wanted all the pretty girls he'd met so far to ind nice boys to settle down with and he wanted Hakkai to never let go of his arm and he wanted those fingers elsewhere and he wanted to be able to touch Hakkai without it being the Hotel's fault and he wanted...

...he wanted...

Hakkai.

Wrapping his long fingers around the curve of Hakkai's hip, Gojyo rubbed the ball of his thumb just over the very edge of the bulge of Hakkai's dick. He'd let Schuldig fuck him (don't think about it, don't) and he'd turned Hakkai away. It was only fair that he offer Hakkai the same he'd given up to the mindreading asshole.

"Can I start with this?"

What if Hakkai wanted something more than fair?

The moment Gojyo's touch turned sexual, the fingers sliding along his skin stilled. In the back of his mind, he knew his body would want it. Hell, he wanted it, but he was still chilled to the core and he wasn't sure he'd ever thaw out again, even with Gojyo touching him.

The coaxing touch pulled his gaze down to rest on Gojyo's scars and for a moment, another memory rose in the back of his mind and made his stomach twist before he forced his green eyes back to meet crimson.

"... why? Why do you what that from me?"