Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Hurricane ❯ Hurricane ( Chapter 1 )

"Gojyo…don't."

I tense in spite of myself. "Why not? It's not like we've never -"

Hakkai moves away from me, not looking back. "That has nothing to do with it. This mission is too important. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"My ass they do." I grasp his shoulder and pull him back, making him turn. His eyes are shadowed. "Hakkai, if we forget why we're doing this, it won't matter who wins." We'll all be dead inside.

His slender hand comes up behind my head, pulls me down to him. My eyes close, shutting the tears within as they have done so many times; it's second nature to me now. His lips are so soft, so warm, it's hard to believe they live so close to those shadowed eyes.

That shadowed heart.

As I melt into his kiss, my soul shrieks, a hurricane sound heard only by me. Run, it says, run far and fast, Gojyo, or you might fall in. Again. And this time you would remain lost, and you know it.

The tears slip past the gate.

Too late I realize that my lips are growing chill. Too late I realize that he is sitting back and looking at me through those shadowed eyes that know all my secrets. Too late I realize that my face is wet with my own sorrow.

"Gojyo…"

"What is it, Hakkai?" My voice sounds unnatural and rough in the hollow silence.

In answer he settles back into the shell of blankets we shared. Slowly, as if careful not to startle, he guides me to lie full against him, matching myself to his every line. He regards me over his shoulder. His hand reaches behind my head again and pulls me into an awkward kiss.

The storm in my soul breaks wide open.

I am pressed against his back, aching need trapped between my belly and the curve of his ass. I have always been slave to my desires, but this is torture. I want him, I need him. Somehow with Hakkai it's so different, always has been. It's like the pleasure is the doorway, our bodies the key and lock, and beyond…

Beyond the doorway of our ecstasy lies my forgotten soul.

I had hoped to find his there as well, but if it was there, it's not mine to find.

But this night there is only the kiss, and the ache, and the tears.

"I'm sorry, Gojyo. I can't."

"I know."

His body fits so perfectly against mine, perfect in every way but one. The angle of his hip forbids that intimacy I crave so dearly.

We both pretend to sleep, knowing that tomorrow night, if there are beds, his will be near Sanzo, and mine will have a monkey for a neighbor. We will not share a room again for some time.

It's always like this, now.

But maybe, just maybe, if the gods are kind… Some months from now, when the tears are again forgotten, we will share a room for comfort and perhaps share something more.

Please, let the gods be kind.