Author:
lillypuff
LiveJournal: http://lillypuff.livejournal.com
Characters From: Saiyuki
Pairing(s): Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: NC-17
Written For: springkink
Prompt:
Gojyo/Hakkai: hard and fast fucking - use me up
Word
Count: 915
Warnings:
some graphic sexuality, language, angst, more or less a PWP
Summary: um, mid journey man-smut, Gojyo-ish
POV
Disclaimer: Sadly, Saiyuki does not belong to me.
A/N: Thank you akuchan_47 & lyradaemon
for the beta jobs! I touched this last, so any remaining mistakes are my own.
It's been a long week. Hell,
it's been a long year. Or maybe the week just seemed so long and
tedious and full of those fucking mindless youkai that it feels like it's been a year.
That has to be it. There's no
way in hell you've been traveling around for a year. Right?
Yeah, just one long ass week, the
longest on record and the worst too, but things are about to change, 'cause now
you've got a roof over your head and pillows that could be under it and if you want to look at the night sky you just
look out the window instead of peeking out that annoying tent flap that always
makes a hell of a lot of noise when the wind picks up.
It may not be the softest mattress,
but it'll do, especially now. It's not
like you're gonna get any sleep. You
can't sleep on your stomach, and certainly not on your hands and knees, and
even if you could, why would you when something hard and cold and wet is
pushing its way inside you, invading that which you never thought would be
invaded. Hell, can you really call it invading if it's what you've wanted all
along?
There, you admit it finally. You just want it. You want, you want, you
want. That's always how it is. You wanted
your mother to love you. You want your brother to be a brother again,
not your enemy. You want to give and
give and give because that's all you've ever known and now you've finally found
someone who is willing to take you, all
of you, because that too is all he's ever known.
And he does take, with every thrust
and every stroke; every slap of flesh against flesh drives the point home. You give, he takes. You moan and groan and grit your teeth
because it hurts; not so much the act itself, but the realization. You've always been the user,
but not anymore and suddenly it doesn't seem so bad. In fact, it seems too
good.
You smile and moan out that name that
seems so perfectly suited for moaning.
You push back against that hard cock that somehow managed to make its
way inside you just like that calculated smile and that polite laugh worked
their way under your skin so that every time you closed your eyes you saw those
lips and every silence wasn't really silent because you could still hear that
laugh.
The bed is really moving now, thumping
heavily against the wall just like he is slamming into you. The monk's gonna be pissed in the morning,
but you don't give a shit because the monk will never understand. You're pretty sure he no longer remembers
what it's like to give. He's a taker
too and for the briefest moment you wonder if you could've given yourself to
him, but then you hear your named purred through those fantastic lips and you
realize that even if you could you
never actually would.
This, you know, is where you
belong. You've known it since the first
time you laid eyes on him, but back then you couldn't bring yourself to believe
it. Now though, you know better.
You know that hand tangled in your
long fiery hair is there as much for pleasure as it is to let you know that you
are his. You know that every kiss he places upon your back leaves an
invisible mark that stakes his claim and that each bite and scratch leaves more
noticeable ones for anyone who'd dare to look.
He wants to be assured that you are
here to stay and you want to tell him that you are, but now isn't exactly the
time for pretty words. All you can do
is pant and moan and groan every time his cock pushes deep inside you, hitting
that one perfect spot that makes you shudder, makes you bury your face into the
nearest pillow to keep yourself from screaming out his name, or worse,
something else entirely; something that scares you more than the thought of leaving or being left behind.
Luckily the hand that is wrapped
around your cock is making it hard for you to think further on such
matters. Thinking has never really been your strong point anyway, but fucking, now that's something you can
do and so you push back hard until every inch of that sly brunette's cock is
deep inside you while his hand works eagerly to milk your orgasm from your body
and when it finally hits, you shudder and moan and curse and try oh so very
hard not to crumble into a mess of limbs and fire red hair, which you manage
pretty well until you feel his warm release inside you.
After that, well, it doesn't really
matter, does it? After that you can
collapse down onto that crappy mattress that will always provide a better night's
sleep then rocks and twigs. At least
there's a pillow under your head. At
least his body, heavy with exhaustion and slick with sweat, is lying beside you
now. And even though your head is
spinning and your breathing is harsh and you know you could fall asleep in an instant you don't want this to
end; not now, not ever.
You've been waiting all this time -- a
week, a month, a lifetime -- and you
have so much more to give.
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