Yaoi warning- contains explicit scenes of m/m
sex. All quite consensual, but as graphic as my ahem rather chaste vocabulary
allows. Rated R, probably.
Note: from the series Gensou Maden Saiyuuki. There's
no overt yaoi to speak of in the anime or the manga, but the luscious art by
Minekura Kazuya suggests that if everyone isn't screwing everyone else, they
ought to be. The Japanese djka literally do these guys by the numbers, like GW.
The numbers are based loosely on the name kanji- Gojou's 'go' isn't the same as
the one for five, Gokuu's 'kuu' isn't the 'ku' of nine. But we have the monk
Sanzou ('three storehouses') as 3, the redhaired Gojou as 5, the mild-mannered
Hakkai ('eight admonishments') as 8, and Gokuu as 9. Looks like their main
enemy, the biseinen Kougaiji, doesn't get a look-in under this system, alas.
The Japanese fans talk happily about 38, which is what this story is, and 83
and 58 and 39 and 53 and occasionally 18 (for the youkai Chin Izou, Hakkai's
bane.) All of which makes their webpages read like positions from a sex manual,
and not too far off at that.
As a Japanese fanwriter wrote on her site,
"This was my first story. I'm embarrassed." This was my first story.
I'm embarrassed.
Rest Stop
"My Pocky!" Gokuu screamed in outrage.
"What about it?" Gojou asked, putting another stick in his
mouth.
"That's my Pocky!!" Gokuu howled, launching himself on the
tall youkai and grabbing for the box.
"It's very good Pocky," Gojou assured him, holding it well out
of reach.
"Give it back!" Gokuu was doing highjumps to reach the
fast-emptying box. "Thief! Robber!"
"Finders keepers," Gojou said smugly, holding him down with
one hand as if he was dribbling a basketball.
"Flat-head! Kappa! Bottom-feeder!"
"Otttohh- Look who's talking, monkey-boy." Gojou leaned over
and twiddled the last chocolate-covered stick at Gokuu from between his teeth.
"Give that *back*!!" Gokuu's flying feet connected solidly
with Gojou's midriff.
"Ungh---" Gojou gasped and fell
back a step. Anger flushed his face. "Give it back? You want it back?!
Fine, you can *have* it back." He stuck a finger into his throat and made
horrific retching noises.
"GEHHHHEE!!!" Gokuu screeched and retreated several paces.
"You want it, here it is!!" Gojou bellowed. "Cumman
getit! Beeauuu-" He backed Gokuu into the furniture, gagging tremendously.
"Don't you dare!" Gokuu yelled in real fear. "Sick on me
and I'll kill you, you redhead garbage-eater!"
"Just you try it, banana-breath!"
Sanzou
got abruptly to his feet and left the inn's sitting room, not looking back to
see Hakkai coming with him. The two walked down the hallway to the bedroom they
were sharing this stop. Sanzou closed the door behind them with an emphatic
thud.
"Fucking brats," Sanzou said in the returned peace.
"It's like travelling with a bloody kindergarten."
"They're really quite fond of each other," Hakkai remarked.
"They have a weird way of showing it." He ran a hand through
his thick blond hair and grimaced. "Let's have our baths while they're
still too busy to bother us."
"There's an idea," Hakkai agreed. In silence they gathered
towels and soap and went down the outside corridor to the bathroom. Hakkai slid
the latch closed behind them and began undoing the shoulder fastenings of his
shirt. Sanzou took off his monkly breastplate and sutra stole and placed them
in the waiting wicker basket with a reflex murmured prayer. Rather more casually
he stripped off his white robe, leather bodysuit and Calvin Klein briefs and
dropped them on top. Hakkai meanwhile was folding his pants to preserve the
crease. He laid them beside the folded shirt in his own basket, tucked his
shorts in at the side, and placed his eyeglass on top of everything where he
could find it easily.
"Uhh-" he said politely to Sanzou as the other turned towards
the washplace.
"Anh," Sanzou said in half-apology, and unfastened the knot of
Hakkai's headband so he could take it off. "Why can't you do this
yourself?" Sanzou asked, for maybe the thirtieth time.
"Too fiddly," Hakkai said. He ran fingers through his sweaty
hair, feeling the usual mixture of relief and apprehension at the absence of
the constraining cloth. He sat down on one of the low bath-stools, filled a
basin of water from the tub and poured it over himself. That was better. The
humid autumn rains made him feel grubby all the time. He poured another basin
over his head, reached blindly for his herbal shampoo, and worked up a
clean-smelling lather. When that was rinsed off he began to feel more human.
With a contented sigh he began washing the rest of himself.
Sanzou
beside him was already covered in white suds. The monk always worked methodically
from head to foot and never stinted himself of soap. Right now he was rubbing a
rough-textured cloth absently over his chest. His face was empty of expression,
but that was nothing new. Sanzou often seemed to be meditating on some internal
landscape invisible to everyone else. They'd known each other for three years
now and were good companions- you might even say friends. But still Hakkai felt
he'd never quite grasped the whole of the conundrum that was Genjou Sanzou. The
answer seemed to lie somewhere in the monk's face, if you could only look at it
the right way. Hakkai observed him for a moment, glancing sideways through his
own shaggy hair so as not to be caught staring. The sullen thoughtful mouth,
the waiflike sharpness of his cheekbones, the moody eyes turning down at the
corners and the thick golden hair cut straight above them- all adding up to
what? It was a face both sensual and fastidious, and so heart-breakingly
beautiful it sometimes hurt Hakkai to look at it. But there was also, and
unforgettably, the small red shakra burning in Sanzou's forehead just above his
eyebrows, so much at odds with the aching physicality below it. That little red
dot was the mark of the monk's advanced spiritual state, of the inner
enlightenment that set him apart from humanity and allowed him to converse with
divinities- that could make Sanzou's very touch dangerous to youkai, so charged
was it with tantric power. Hakkai looked away, mouth tensing into a flat line.
Youkai. Like himself. Like himself, now.
There
was a splash and a few drops landed on Hakkai as Sanzou up-ended a bucket of
water over himself to wash the soap away. Another and another, as Sanzou
sluiced himself thoroughly and shook his dripping hair. More methodically and
much more neatly Hakkai rinsed his own torso and legs. He put the basin down,
feeling clean and refreshed and ready now for the heat of the bath itself. He
bent a leg to stand up. And stopped in his crouch, aware of the sudden change
in the air. Sanzou was looking at him. Without turning, Hakkai could feel the
heavy weight of the monk's eyes on his body. Hakkai stared sightlessly before
him at the water in the bath. There was a touch on the back of his neck.
Slender fingers, terribly warm. A flame began to burn inside him, at the chakra
level of his breastbone. He gulped. Heat filled his heart, filled his chest.
The delicate touch appeared again in the small of his back. He bit his lower
lip hard. His breathing deepened and his head began to swim. Sanzou's hand,
maddeningly hot, moved to his buttock. Strength seemed to leave Hakkai as all
his blood rushed to his groin.
He
slipped forward off his stool to lean bonelessly against the bath. Sanzou's
hands were between his legs. It was all he could manage not to cry aloud at what
they were doing. He buried his face in his arms, biting at his own wet flesh.
He was harder than hard, there was no more Sanzou could do to make him harder
but still Sanzou's hands played with him unbearably. He drew his breath in
deeply and it came out as a small mewl of want.
Sanzou
stopped at once, and his hands moved apologetically away. Whatever liberties
Sanzou might take with Hakkai's body, he was always chary of intruding on his
spirit. Which was nice of him, of course, if it hadn't been such an ambiguous
gesture. Sanzou knew the worst there was to know of Cho Hakkai. There was no
shame left in him before the monk. That Sanzou still chose to be tender of
Hakkai's pride was a kindness for which Hakkai was grateful. But he knew too
that Sanzou's delicacy was a two-edged sword, one that he used as much to hide
his own fancied nakedness from the world as to save his partner from
humiliation. That was why Sanzou only allowed positions where neither could see
the other's face during their most vulnerable moments. And that was why the
essence of Sanzou always lay beyond Hakkai's grasp, even when their bodies were
joined.
But
there was no question of leaving them as they were now. Sanzou was merely
waiting for permission to continue. Hakkai half-turned his head, managing a
small smile and a murmured "Douzo..." Sanzou's hands came back to
Hakkai's body then, and he sighed in relief. Wet slippery fingers slid inside
him, teasing him open. Hakkai relaxed, preparing for Sanzou's entry. And suddenly
the hardness of Sanzou himself was there, moving relentlessly into him. Hakkai
panted silently. There was room inside him for Sanzou, there was always room
enough, there was room for-- this impossible thing, this large maddening
hurting thing that turned the corners of his vision red. A small panic thrummed
at Hakkai, the one that always accompanied and heightened the pleasure of sex.
Pain and delight filled his mind like writhing snakes, sliding back and forth
into each other. He watched their wavering forms moving in time to the thing
that moved in and out of himself, that sawed at him so wonderfully. At each
stroke his sight grew redder and the thin shriek of panic grew shriller. The
three clips in his left ear burned his skin, biting at the youkai power clawing
to get out of him. He knew he was tempting horror back by playing with it like
this- was walking along a knife's edge with a sea of blood on each side of him.
Monstrousness was only a thin membrane of tissue away. He had to trust, as
always, that Sanzou would keep that membrane from ripping as it had three years
ago and setting chaos free.
Sanzou's fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of Hakkai's thighs as
Sanzou rammed with increasing violence into Hakkai's body. Deeper he came and
deeper, as if trying to pierce him through. The drumbeat of violence in
Hakkai's ears and the redness filming his vision grew unbearable. It was louder
this time, stronger and harder than it had ever been before. The pulse of blood
before his eyes, the pulse of blood through his body, boomed like the sea. It
was mounting out of control. *He* was coming back. Panic clawed at Hakkai's
heart. He knew he had to stop- had to make Sanzou stop-- But mixed with the
fear there was something new, a silver line of arching happiness that terrified
him in its turn. This time it would be too strong for them both. This time he'd
fall over the edge into himself again-- become the one whose presence inside
him he'd never even suspected until the day it came forth, easily and with no
struggle at all, to slaughter half his village. He knew that red-handed killer,
Cho Gonou, must never appear again. No more lives must be laid to its- to his-
account. But now that he felt the murderer's shadow falling on his back, he
knew how much he wanted to have it with him: his twin, his ferocious self, the
only true companion of his days now that all else was gone--
And
knew that in the end he wouldn't say the word to Sanzou that would stop it from
returning. For Sanzou who could stop it was Sanzou who had woken it in the
first place, somehow all part of the same thing. It was Sanzou's presence
inside Hakkai that called Gonou forth, like a thief breaking into a tomb who
sets free the guardian demon. Each time Sanzou pierced him, each time Sanzou
laid Hakkai open body and soul, he created a path for that other self to emerge
into the outside world. And now his brother was only a step from the gate, only
one step, and the world was all red in Hakkai's sight-- Then movement stopped,
and he heard Sanzou's stifled gasps, felt in back of himself the rigid tension
of the monk's body as orgasm twisted it and departed.
Joy
and panic vanished in a moment and the blood-tinged world turned dark before
Hakkai's human eyes. He was alone, with nothing but pain throbbing behind him
and a ferocious need throbbing in front. He put a hand on himself, not nearly
consolation enough for what he'd lost. He was alone in an empty aching place,
bruise-coloured purple and red. He would always be alone. Desolation choked his
lungs. He'd lost Kanan his love, he'd lost Gonou who was himself, he'd lost the
very little he'd ever had that was his. And now he was here alone, in pain-- He
hid his face in his arms, seeking to hide in the darkness of their shelter.
Hands
were on his hips, warm, tentative, suggesting. Frozen with misery, Hakkai shied
from their touch. But the hands knew what they were about. There was no
resisting them. He let them turn him around. Still shielding his face, Hakkai
slid backwards, half leaning against the wall of the bath. It hurt his
shoulders. He wriggled away from it and found himself lying on his back with
the warm wet tiles beneath him. Warm wetness, a different kind, enveloped his
groin. Warm and moving and welcoming, bringing a little promise of happiness
into his cold world like sunshine in late winter. His free hand found the
thickness of Sanzou's hair and sank into it, following its small movements as
Sanzou's mouth worked at him. The goldenness of it seemed almost tangible, a
soft weighty mass between his fingers. It felt good, comforting somehow, as
Sanzou's tongue felt good on his flesh. Good, yes, good... Small waves of
pleasure lapped at him as he lay in the shallows, like a tide rising higher.
Little ticklings here, little lappings there, small electric shocks as Sanzou's
tongue touched all the sensitive nubs and tiny pleasure points along the
length. Sanzou's tongue folded about him. The feel of being within flesh was
too much. Hakkai's pelvis began to rock in time to the movements of Sanzou's mouth.
He bit his arm harder. Something was growing inside him, called forth by
Sanzou's tongue- a smiling happy presence quite different from the one before.
Pleasure ballooned inside his frame until it filled him up. Harder and harder
Sanzou sucked at him. Hakkai's bones felt they would crack and his skin split
open as the swelling thing inside him tried to break forth like a cicada from
its shell. A cicada sound came from his throat, a high-pitched shrilling 'Nnnnn
Nnnnnn Nnnnn'. He was going to split open. He wanted to split open. He wanted
to release the relentless and unruly pleasure within. All that was keeping it
inside were the three clips in his ear, burning silver-molten as they held him
in his human form-- the form that was too small, too limited, for that giant
ecstasy. It was intolerable. He couldn't stand it any longer- wouldn't--
He
let go of Sanzou's hair and reached for his left ear. Sanzou caught his arm and
held it motionless. Hakkai twisted wildly, trying to get at the clips with his
other hand, but Sanzou's flailing hand caught that arm and held it too. Hakkai
cried his anger, his frustration, his pleasure, soundlessly to the steamy air
and the ceiling far above him. He was held down and pent up. There was only one
small exit for the hugeness inside him. Balked by those three tiny silver
pieces, the tidal wave of orgasm rushed towards his groin and out of him. His
mouth opened in a soundless shriek at the white-hot sensation. He was melting
and twisting like wax in a flame. Melting, twisting, as he had melted and
twisted in the tide of demon blood that had taken his human form from him and
rendered him youkai.
He
could hear the panting sobs in his chest, stifled as always, well before his
vision cleared completely. He was looking again at the misty ceiling,
spiderwebbed with a light filigree of mould. His arms were free, lying leadenly
on the wet tiles, but Sanzou's weight still pinioned his legs. Himself again,
Hakkai thought of what he'd tried to do and felt his insides lurch with shock
and fear. At that miniscule movement, Sanzou shifted off him and straightened
up. Hakkai sat up in his turn, face averted.
"Sanzou..." he said. "Could you..." He gestured
vaguely behind him.
He
sensed the monk getting up, heard the brief rustle of clothes. Sanzou knelt
behind him and fastened the green headband around Hakkai's temples again.
Hakkai's shoulders relaxed in relief.
"That doesn't make any difference," Sanzou told him, an inch
from his ear.
"It does to me," he said to the edge of the bath.
"Next time tie it yourself. It's got nothing to do with me."
"Yes. I know."
Sanzou
went back to his place. Water splashed as he cleaned the traces of sex from
himself. In silence Hakkai did likewise, then got up and stepped into the bath.
Hot water rose soothingly to his chest. Sanzou got in beside him. They lay
looking up at the ceiling.
"Try that again and I'll kill you," Sanzou said, as he said
often enough to Gokuu and Gojou but never before to himself. Anger sounded in
his voice like the winter wind through empty tree branches.
"I'm sorry."
"Then what'd you do it for?"
Hakkai
shook his head. "I don't know."
"Never do it again. Ever. Gojou wouldn't even notice what you were
up to."
"I wouldn't do it when I was with Gojou."
Sanzou
was silent.
"Gojou is... the opposite of me," Hakkai explained. "All
his youkai self is on the outside. His hair, his eyes. Inside he's all human.
When I'm with him, he calls the human in me too."
"And I?"
Hakkai
didn't answer.
"Fuck you," Sanzou said.
Hakkai
trailed a single finger in the water. "You aren't wholly of this world,
Sanzou. 'Sanzou'- the men who bear that name are said to be near to gods."
"Crap," Sanzou said. "The gods are no different from us.
Worse, if anything. And I never asked to have this name." His face was
stiff with anger, overlying an old misery.
Hakkai
sighed. "I suppose we won't be doing this again?"
"Believe it," tersely.
"Well, it's probably for the best." In his head there moved the
shadows of that other place, his other self. His one own thing in a world where
everyone wore strangers' flesh. Where even those nearest to you were separated
by a million alien thoughts and experiences that made them ultimately
unknowable as stars. The smiling killer was all he truly had for his own. Flesh
of his flesh, soul of his soul, however monstrous: inextricably part of him
like the blood in his veins, even if now it was also as distant from him as the
land of the rising sun and evidently going to remain so.
There
was a thud at the door. "Sanzou? Sanzou, you in there?" Gokuu's voice
came from outside. "Let us in. We want our baths."
"Hey, beauty-boy, open the door," Gojou yelled beside him.
"If I have to smell his monkey-stink another minute I'll puke again."
Sanzou
snarled silently. "Get lost, you pair of arrested adolescents!" he
yelled at the locked door. "I'm having my bath in peace!"
"I'm not an adolescent, he is," Gojou protested at once.
"With the zits still on his bum. Keep *him* out if you like, but--"
"I'm not arrested," Gokuu said at the same time in outrage.
"Just 'cause I was in prison for 500 years, Sanzou, you-- hey,
whaddayamean, zits? Cockroach head!"
"Flatface! Ook-ook monkey boy! Hey Sanzou, I don't care if you wanna
go on screwing Hakkai, you can just pretend I'm not there--"
"I'll kill you!!" Sanzou howled, then, "Hakkai,
what the hell are you--"
Hakkai
had gotten out of the bath. "The other guests," he explained with a
resigned smile. "We'll disturb them." He unlatched the door even as
Sanzou said "Don't you dare--." Gokuu and Gojou tumbled in,
trading punches. "Ero-kappa!" "Dumb ape!"
Sanzou
stood up in the bath. He grabbed his bucket, swirled it through the water and
dumped its contents on the two half-youkai. They gasped and yelled and broke up
their fight, and two more buckets
caught them full in the face. "Shut up and wash," Sanzou
ordered them tightly. "First one to make a sound is dead."
Gojou
and Gokuu traded quick glances, stripped off their wet clothes in silence and
sat down in the washplace. Sanzou got out of the bath and towelled off. Luckily
he didn't see Gojou dropping a limp forefinger at Gokuu to suggest what he
considered the probable cause of Sanzou's ill-temper. Hakkai, heading towards
his clothes basket, gave Gojou's head a surreptitious thump in passing. He
frowned warningly at the surprised sideways glance of Gojou's red eyes. Gojou
grimaced but went on washing without saying anything more.
Sanzou
paced the hallway back to their room, Hakkai silent behind him. In the bedroom
Sanzou ripped the tab off a beer can and flung himself into the one armchair
with an invisible Do Not Disturb sign above his head. Hakkai shifted Hakuryuu's
basket onto the floor, getting a little puff from the sleeping dragon, and
settled onto his bed with the maps of the area to plan tomorrow's course. There
was what looked like a major town about three hours' drive from this one, but
it sat nestled against an outcrop of the local mountain range. The pass they
wanted seemed to be a good twenty ri to the south...
"That headband of yours," Sanzou said.
Hakkai jumped a little. "Ahh- yes?"
"Did you alter it somehow?"
"Ahh- umm." He met Sanzou's suspicious expression with a
disarming smile. "A second line of defence, you know. Just in case. You
can never be too caref--"
"How?"
Hakkai gave in. "Five of your hairs, sewn into the lining."
"My hair?!"
"Genjou Sanzou Houshi, the master of the Law. The bane of
youkai." Sanzou stared at him, outraged. "That's why you're the only
one that can take it off," Hakkai explained.
"Hmmphh." Sanzou's down-turning eyes brooded at him as he
digested the information. Hakkai concentrated on looking meek so as not to
provoke a further tempest. There was a charged silence. After a moment Sanzou
withdrew his glance
"How often do you wash your hair?" he asked.
"Every third day, usually."
"Mnh. Two out of three," Sanzou mused, reaching for another
beer.
"I can live with that. Gokuu will do for
the off day." He ripped the tab and took a swig. Contentedly, Hakkai went
back to studying his maps.
MJJ Aug-Sept, 2000