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Title: Water Imp
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Saiyuki
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing: Gojyo/Hakkai
Warnings: PTSD
Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: It takes a lot for a person to let a Kappa pull them into water, even if the Kappa in question is a hanyou with barely enough fuck-or-feast instincts to be a threat.
AN: Written for Not Prime Time 2014, for gonergone. This is my first attempt at writing for this fandom.
Hakkai cleans a lot.
When he first moved in, it drove Gojyo mad. It drove him to spending more and more hours in bars, hustling cards and flirting with (very) easy women. Not because Gojyo was untidy. He wasn’t, despite appearances. He knew that as a person he looked messy, but you don’t grow up with a mother who hates you and end up slovenly. Not if you don’t want to get hurt.
It bothered him, because he figured out early on that Hakkai cleans to try and wash the blood away. His hands are dripping with it, still; the man who killed a thousand youkai. He’s never going to wash it off – the pointed ears and the claws and the vines that hide under his power-limiters are here to stay whether Hakkai likes it or not – but the problem was that he tries.
Gojyo grew up with people who tried to wash away the stain of him. He stayed out of Hakkai’s way at first because he didn’t trust him not to try as well.
…
Gojyo stretches out in the back of Jeep, pressing his knees against the back of Hakkai’s seat and elbowing Goku not-so-accidentally in the side of the head. He’s spent the journey down from the mountains dozing in between fights, loving that it’s warm again now that they’re back in the low-lands. Hakkai’s gaze flicks towards him in the rear-view mirror – brief because he’s got to keep his eyes on the sorry excuse for a road they’re on – and Gojyo smiles at him through Goku’s tirade.
You’d think the kid knew he’d kind-of done it on purpose. Yeesh.
“There a town anywhere near here?” he asks. “’Cause a bed would be awesome.”
“You’ve been sleeping all day!” Goku yells before Sanzo’s trusty fan whaps him in the back of the head.
The monk levels a glare on Gojyo like he knows he did it kinda-sorta-on-purpose but can’t prove it, before he answers the question. Almost. “We’re in Kougaiji’s territory,” like it means jack-shit when Kougaiji’s been hounding them for months. Gojyo translates it as a firm ‘yes, but if you think we’re going to stop then I’ll shoot you in the face’ and sinks back into his seat, stretching just enough to nudge Hakkai in the back again. There’s another flicker of a green eye in the mirror; the curve of a smile.
He doesn’t need Hakkai to talk to understand him. He knows when that smile isn’t as happy as it looks – like now – and the way to spot a cleaning frenzy from the glazed sheen in his eye and the trembling of his hands.
“Not even a pit stop?” he asks. “C’mon, it smells like monkey back here.”
Sanzo visibly twitches as Goku’s shouts reach new heights, but he nods and they end up pulling over by the bank of a river flowing out of the mountains behind them. It widens out unbelievable once it hits the flats, but it’s ice-cold with melt water, and Gojyo shudders reflexively even though he’s just enough of a Kappa for cold water not to bother him.
The things he does for love.
He finds a good spot. Calm and sandy and hidden from where Sanzo now has to wrestle the monkey into water, and he slips out of his clothes. He really does need a wash, and he crouches in the shallows and starts to scrub himself with sand.
There’s a rustle of silks behind him, and he glances over his shoulder in time to see Hakkai’s tunic hit the ground.
“It’s freezing,” he warns, but apparently, Hakkai doesn’t care.
…
The first time they bathed together is a time Hakkai doesn’t remember. He was mostly corpse at the time, to be fair; it was after Gojyo had hauled him home for the first time and landed himself with a new roommate covered in mud and blood and had to figure out a way to get it off him before his wounds got infected. He’d drawn a bath and slipped in under Hakkai’s still body; kept his head above the water as he’d rinsed him off – twice, in fact, before the water stopped turning dirt-red, and a third time before he stopped smelling blood on Hakkai’s skin.
The time after that was more important. It was somehow more intimate than bathing him while he’d been unconscious; it had showed, to Gojyo at least, that Hakkai trusted him. After all, it takes a lot for a person to let a Kappa pull them into water, even if the Kappa in question is a hanyou with barely enough fuck-or-feast instincts to be a threat.
He’d come back from a bar to find Hakkai mid-frenzy, scrubbing at his hands and dripping blood all over the floor, slowly skinning himself with a scouring pad. He hadn’t known what to say, so he hadn’t said anything; just stepped up behind him and wrapped his hands around Hakkai’s wrists to stop him from hurting himself more, and he’d guided him slowly into the bathroom to clean him off. And that was that. He’d promised to keep an eye on the guy; he’d figured, around then, that he should probably start.
…
Hakkai wades out into the river, uncaring of the cold, until the water hits his mid-thigh. Gojyo watches him. Not because he’s worried Hakkai’s going to flip out again and try and drown himself – they got to the water in time to prevent that, thank whichever crazy god deigns to listen this time – but because it’s a damn good view.
He finishes scrubbing himself off and wades in deeper as well, stepping up behind Hakkai without a word and winding his arms around him, pulling Hakkai back against him. His pale skin is raised in goosebumps, and he’s shivering slightly from the chill, but he relaxes back in Gojyo’s arms and leans his head back onto Gojyo’s shoulder.
He doesn’t need to say shit like “thank you”, because that would imply Gojyo didn’t know he meant it. They’re better than that.
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Saiyuki
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing: Gojyo/Hakkai
Warnings: PTSD
Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: It takes a lot for a person to let a Kappa pull them into water, even if the Kappa in question is a hanyou with barely enough fuck-or-feast instincts to be a threat.
AN: Written for Not Prime Time 2014, for gonergone. This is my first attempt at writing for this fandom.
Hakkai cleans a lot.
When he first moved in, it drove Gojyo mad. It drove him to spending more and more hours in bars, hustling cards and flirting with (very) easy women. Not because Gojyo was untidy. He wasn’t, despite appearances. He knew that as a person he looked messy, but you don’t grow up with a mother who hates you and end up slovenly. Not if you don’t want to get hurt.
It bothered him, because he figured out early on that Hakkai cleans to try and wash the blood away. His hands are dripping with it, still; the man who killed a thousand youkai. He’s never going to wash it off – the pointed ears and the claws and the vines that hide under his power-limiters are here to stay whether Hakkai likes it or not – but the problem was that he tries.
Gojyo grew up with people who tried to wash away the stain of him. He stayed out of Hakkai’s way at first because he didn’t trust him not to try as well.
…
Gojyo stretches out in the back of Jeep, pressing his knees against the back of Hakkai’s seat and elbowing Goku not-so-accidentally in the side of the head. He’s spent the journey down from the mountains dozing in between fights, loving that it’s warm again now that they’re back in the low-lands. Hakkai’s gaze flicks towards him in the rear-view mirror – brief because he’s got to keep his eyes on the sorry excuse for a road they’re on – and Gojyo smiles at him through Goku’s tirade.
You’d think the kid knew he’d kind-of done it on purpose. Yeesh.
“There a town anywhere near here?” he asks. “’Cause a bed would be awesome.”
“You’ve been sleeping all day!” Goku yells before Sanzo’s trusty fan whaps him in the back of the head.
The monk levels a glare on Gojyo like he knows he did it kinda-sorta-on-purpose but can’t prove it, before he answers the question. Almost. “We’re in Kougaiji’s territory,” like it means jack-shit when Kougaiji’s been hounding them for months. Gojyo translates it as a firm ‘yes, but if you think we’re going to stop then I’ll shoot you in the face’ and sinks back into his seat, stretching just enough to nudge Hakkai in the back again. There’s another flicker of a green eye in the mirror; the curve of a smile.
He doesn’t need Hakkai to talk to understand him. He knows when that smile isn’t as happy as it looks – like now – and the way to spot a cleaning frenzy from the glazed sheen in his eye and the trembling of his hands.
“Not even a pit stop?” he asks. “C’mon, it smells like monkey back here.”
Sanzo visibly twitches as Goku’s shouts reach new heights, but he nods and they end up pulling over by the bank of a river flowing out of the mountains behind them. It widens out unbelievable once it hits the flats, but it’s ice-cold with melt water, and Gojyo shudders reflexively even though he’s just enough of a Kappa for cold water not to bother him.
The things he does for love.
He finds a good spot. Calm and sandy and hidden from where Sanzo now has to wrestle the monkey into water, and he slips out of his clothes. He really does need a wash, and he crouches in the shallows and starts to scrub himself with sand.
There’s a rustle of silks behind him, and he glances over his shoulder in time to see Hakkai’s tunic hit the ground.
“It’s freezing,” he warns, but apparently, Hakkai doesn’t care.
…
The first time they bathed together is a time Hakkai doesn’t remember. He was mostly corpse at the time, to be fair; it was after Gojyo had hauled him home for the first time and landed himself with a new roommate covered in mud and blood and had to figure out a way to get it off him before his wounds got infected. He’d drawn a bath and slipped in under Hakkai’s still body; kept his head above the water as he’d rinsed him off – twice, in fact, before the water stopped turning dirt-red, and a third time before he stopped smelling blood on Hakkai’s skin.
The time after that was more important. It was somehow more intimate than bathing him while he’d been unconscious; it had showed, to Gojyo at least, that Hakkai trusted him. After all, it takes a lot for a person to let a Kappa pull them into water, even if the Kappa in question is a hanyou with barely enough fuck-or-feast instincts to be a threat.
He’d come back from a bar to find Hakkai mid-frenzy, scrubbing at his hands and dripping blood all over the floor, slowly skinning himself with a scouring pad. He hadn’t known what to say, so he hadn’t said anything; just stepped up behind him and wrapped his hands around Hakkai’s wrists to stop him from hurting himself more, and he’d guided him slowly into the bathroom to clean him off. And that was that. He’d promised to keep an eye on the guy; he’d figured, around then, that he should probably start.
…
Hakkai wades out into the river, uncaring of the cold, until the water hits his mid-thigh. Gojyo watches him. Not because he’s worried Hakkai’s going to flip out again and try and drown himself – they got to the water in time to prevent that, thank whichever crazy god deigns to listen this time – but because it’s a damn good view.
He finishes scrubbing himself off and wades in deeper as well, stepping up behind Hakkai without a word and winding his arms around him, pulling Hakkai back against him. His pale skin is raised in goosebumps, and he’s shivering slightly from the chill, but he relaxes back in Gojyo’s arms and leans his head back onto Gojyo’s shoulder.
He doesn’t need to say shit like “thank you”, because that would imply Gojyo didn’t know he meant it. They’re better than that.
