Title: Zang Fu Theory, Part 2: Pericardium (Heart Protector)
Author: Lotus
Email: ladylotusmoon (a) hotmail (o) com
Pairing(s): Sanzo/Hakkai
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sanzo and Hakkai are called away in the middle of the night to help a
severely injured farmer and Gojyo is left babysitting a dragon.
Warning: Language, Sexual Situations
Notes: I hate the monocle, so in this fic Hakkai wears glasses. There's a
glossary at the end for those of you who are dorky like me...
Zang-Fu theory is a concept within traditional Chinese medicine that
describes the functions of the organs of the body and the interactions that
occur between them. The organs are associated energetically with the five elements
of wood, fire, earth, water and metal. The Pericardium (Heart Protector)
defends the Heart from dangerous external influences and is associated with
Fire.
Gojyo had loudly praised the gods when the group had arrived in the town the day
before and discovered its proximity to a hot spring meant an onsen ryokan,
an inn with a public bath. It was wholly unexpected, especially after driving
past so many impoverished-looking farms. He was sure they'd end up in some shit
hole, or camping out again.
As he shimmied out of his narrow jeans in the deserted datsuijyo,
changing room, the redhead was almost grateful enough to burn a stick of
incense for the local water deity. Naked, he kicked the crumpled pile of denim
closer to the wall and dropped the big folded bath towel onto the bench.
Carrying the small towel and the ikkou's communal bath bag into the
equally empty araiba, Gojyo sat on the stool next to the only full
bucket in the washing area. It was the knife's edge of dawn, and he'd been
lucky enough to catch the innkeeper's daughter in the kitchen starting the day.
A little of the old Gojyo charm, and he had the blushing girl heating water and
lighting lanterns for him. If he'd put in even a bit of effort, he could of had
the cute little thing scrubbing his back, too, but he wasn't in the mood for a
sudsy slap and tickle.
Taking a breath, Gojyo grabbed the edges of the bucket and dumped half of the
warm water over his head. With a gasp, the redhead shook himself, then dropped
the washcloth into the bucket and bent over to retrieve the bar of rice bran
soap from the bag. Soaping up the washcloth, he began vigorously scrubbing his
chest and stomach.
Gojyo's leanly muscular torso had been spattered, smeared and soiled by various
types of body fluids on the battlefield and in the bedroom, but this was the
first time in his life he'd washed off dragon spunk.
"Fuck," Gojyo muttered.
When he left Hakkai and Sanzo's room, Hakuryu had been curled up in a sleeping
ball on the foot of the bed. Gojyo had done some kinky shit, but bestiality
hadn't been on the list. He had no freaking clue what had gotten into the
little guy. Gojyo unstoppered the bottle of shampoo and poured a generous
amount of the dark yellow liquid into the palm of his hand. As he worked the
shampoo through his shoulder-length hair, the sweet smell of the camellia oil
started soothing his frazzled nerves.
Hakkai used camellia oil in the medicinal creams he made for sunburns, scrapes,
rashes, bug bites and other various annoyances the ikkou managed to collect on
the road. The scent clung to the healer; particularly his hands, the herbal
aroma wafting around the glowing tendrils of chi when he healed...
Gojyo felt his penis stir between his spread legs and frowned. Since when did thinking
about his best friend give him a dick twitch? Closing his eyes and holding his
breath, he dumped the rest of the bucket water over his head. Slicking his hair
back with his left hand, he snagged the washcloth with the other as he stood
up.
"What're ya thinkin', pal?" Gojyo asked his penis, now suitably limp
after the dousing of cooled water.
Nipples hardened and tanned skin goosebumped from the slight breeze generated
by his long-legged stride across the room. Gojyo pushed aside the blue and
white noren with his forearm, his unusual height forcing him to duck
anyway as he stepped into the yokujyo, the bathing room proper. Warm,
humid air smelling like damp cedar mixed with burnt matches and salt, wrapped
around his nakedness as he glanced around the room illuminated by the soft glow
of the single paper lantern. Three rectangular, wooden tubs set into slight
recesses in the wooden floor framed with black rocks lined the wall. Gojyo
padded over to the closest one, dark water shimmering in the lamplight.
Gojyo eased his right foot into the steaming water. A smile lifted his face
even as his toes curled involuntarily. The bath water was only a couple of
degrees shy of a crab boil. Just the way he liked it. The redhead slowly eased
himself in, an occasional pleased hiss escaping from him as his body adjusted.
Scooting his ass down, Gojyo raised his knees up out of the water to drop his
shoulders in. As usual, the tub wasn't long enough to accommodate his six foot
frame.
"Ow!" Gojyo flinched when he sunk in up to his chin and a sharp sting
pricked his neck. Sitting up, long fingers probed the sore spot. The redheaded
lothario had borne his share of passion marks, but none of them had smarted as
much as a dragon love bite.
"Fuckin' flying rat," Gojyo grumbled.
He dunked the washcloth, wrung it out, and laid it on top of his head to keep
the chill away from his wet hair. His pleasure at the sensual experience of the
hot bath dimmed. The whole incident with Hakuryu was pretty embarrassing, and
the free-spirited Kappa did not embarrass easily. There was no way in Hell he
was going to be able to hide the bite. He could lie to the monkey, the monk
wouldn't give a crap even if he deigned to notice, but Hakkai would know what
it was the second he saw it. Then Gojyo would be forced to tell him what
happened.
Cupping water in his palms, Gojyo absently poured the hot liquid over his
exposed knees. Well, maybe he didn't have to tell Hakkai all the specifics.
"I was just pettin' the little guy," Gojyo spoke slowly, testing out
the lie, "and I must've gotten too rough."
Gojyo pictured Hakkai's frown, the glint of glasses as the head dropped to show
disappointed brown eyes in an impassive face. That's right. Gojyo was supposed
to be looking after the dragon. Plus, the hanyou had never "accidentally"
hurt anyone. Which Hakkai knew. Because Hakkai knew everything about him. Gojyo
splashed water with the flat of his hand.
"Shit." There was no way he could lie to Hakkai. He was gonna have to
tell him the truth.
Gojyo closed his eyes and desperately wished for the pack of cigarettes left in
the room.
*
* *
One heartbeat Sanzo was asleep and the next he was fully awake. It was always
that way with him. He never understood lazing about in bed. A lifetime in the
temple waking at dawn for morning prayers and traveling on the road had trained
his body to be so. Without opening his eyes, Sanzo's senses assembled his
surroundings almost instantly; the quickening dawn rising up through the broken
door and pinking the inside of his eyelids, the smell of camellia oil brushing
softly under his chin, the steady heartbeat under his hand.
Sometime during the turbulent night, Hakkai had shifted so his back was pressed
against Sanzo's chest. The front of Hakkai's tunic and Sanzo's robe had come
undone during the wrestling last night, so the blonde's hand rested on the
healer's long-sleeved black undershirt made of karami ori, sha silk, as
was his own. Sanzo's thumb lightly stroked the soft material. As an young
acolyte, Sanzo had sat and watched a master weave the karami ori. The
old monk had explained as his gnarled but nimble fingers moved, thin body bent
nearly double to bring his watery eyes close enough to the loom to see his
work.
"The secret of karami ori," the weaver had explained in a
voice as light as the shifting silk, "is the twisting of the warp threads
in pairs. The weft thread is inserted between the twists, forming an open weave
both strong and beautiful..."
It was the image of the two black threads twisting together that had come to
mind when Sanzo worked with Hakkai on controlling his chi, carefully wrapping
chants around the newly-turned youkai's wild energy, guiding, coaxing. In the
garden outside Sanzo's quarters, the pair would sit in lotus position facing
each other so closely their knees would brush when one shifted. Once the image
of the twisting threads had come to him, Sanzo had ordered a karami ori
shirt for the healer. The protest had been instantaneous and loud.
"But, Sanzo-sama, the karami ori is only for the most pure and
holiest..."
"... for the most sacred ceremonies..."
"... appearances in the royal court..."
"Urusai!" Sanzo barked.
The snap of his robes was loud in the shocked silence as Sanzo spun around and
stalked off. The next morning, carefully wrapped in rice paper, a black,
long-sleeved karami ori shirt was left outside his door. Having won that
battle easily, Sanzo was again irritated when the healer attempted to decline
the shirt.
"Che. Suit yourself." Refusing to argue with his grown student, Sanzo
narrowed his eyes and tossed the shirt in the air.
Hakkai deftly caught the silk before it fluttered to the ground. Green eyes met
purple. In a sudden capitulation, the healer calmly folded the shirt against his
chest and bowed deeply before turning and leaving the garden. The shirt and
power limiters were the only objects Hakkai took away with him when he finished
training and departed the monastery.
Sanzo shifted between the worn blankets on the hard dirt floor so his cheek
brushed Hakkai's ear, the cold metal of the limiters bright and sharp. The
three ear cuffs were charged and placed on Hakkai's ear by Sanzo's own hands.
This close, the monk could detect the slight buzz of power, feel the echo of
his own chi signature. He recalled with perfect clarity Hakkai's expression
when he slipped the cuffs on; a devastating mixture of fear and trust, hope and
despair. The tender flesh had been cold, and to this day Sanzo was unsure if it
was Hakkai or his own fingers that had been shaking.
Frowning, Sanzo flattened his hand against Hakkai's chest. He should have been
able to easily feel the other man's body heat through the loose weave. Hakkai's
skin was still colder than it should have been.
The monk channeled a small amount of chi into the morning chant, Atta Dipa,
to banish the lingering effects of the fire oni. It wasn't a true
healing like Hakkai performed. Sanzo never spent much time practicing the
healing arts despite various attempts by older monks to persuade him to do so.
He had focused his time and energy on what would best serve his purpose. Battle
Chants: attack, deflect, cast out, barrier break. Healing required a tedious
subtlety, a compassion to forge the connection with the afflicted.
Sanzo was neither subtle nor compassionate. He was not Hakkai.
"You are the light itself
Rely on yourself
Do not rely on others.
The Dharma is the light
Do not rely on anything other than the Dharma."
Hakkai awoke on the first "light"; Sanzo could feel the quickening of
the heart beneath his palm, the change of rhythm in his breathing. Other than
those two subtle signs, Hakkai kept still until the chant was finished. Sanzo
wondered what the healer was thinking. In that regard, the two men were
complete opposites. Sanzo said exactly what he thought, did what he wanted, and
took the straightest path to his goal. He was like a bullet shot: abrupt,
direct, and sometimes fatal.
Hakkai was enigmatic. Every word, every silence, had multiple meanings that had
to be interpreted like haiku.
"Thank you, Sanzo," Hakkai said quietly.
"Che," Sanzo snorted softly. "I need you healthy."
Time seemed to slow as purple eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, Sanzo
watched the dust motes swirl in the beams of light slanting over their heads in
the otherwise dark shed. When Sanzo had said 'I need you', Hakkai's heart
thumped hard beneath his palm, and the healer's breath had caught slightly
before evening out. Such a tiny event, it was barely detectable. But, Sanzo had
once spent an entire day with his master counting the shades of pink in a
cluster of cherry blossoms. A lesson in observation.
The cherry blossoms had opened the door to a world of vibrant beauty so
painfully intense, Sanzo had to walk through the garden with squinted eyes for
weeks.
The catch in Hakkai's breath opened an entirely different kind of door. The
rhythm of the healer's breathing became more forced, and Sanzo saw the pulse
jump in the slender neck above the black shirt. Hakkai knew he had noticed.
Sanzo remembered the feel of Hakkai's lean frame pressed intimately against
him; the taste of his mouth. The blond felt his morning erection harden. He
wondered what a cigarette would taste like after Hakkai.
In the span of time it took one of the dust motes to spiral through the light,
the decision had been made.
Sanzo had always taken the most direct path.
*
* *
Hakkai woke to soft chanting in his ear, making the limiters buzz slightly.
Green eyes snapped open, and there was an instant of blurred disorientation
from the false one, before the dim interior of the farmer's shack came into
focus. He had a moment to register how hot Sanzo's palm felt on his chest, even
through his shirt, then the monk's chi manifested in the chant.
It felt as if an invisible fist gathered up icy cobwebs laying over Hakkai's
skin and abruptly jerked them away. With a conscious effort, Hakkai kept
himself from flinching. Sanzo's chi was not gentle.
The hand on his chest cooled. Or, to be more precise, Hakkai's body temperature
rose to normal, so the difference between them became negligible.
Skin. Flesh. The same tongue currently engaged in chant, thrusting into his
mouth and sucking so hard the healer thought he was going to draw out his soul.
Hakkai cleared his throat.
"Thank you, Sanzo," Hakkai said.
"Che." A soft snort stirred the hair on the back of Hakkai's neck.
"I need you healthy," Sanzo said in his ear.
The sound of the monk's voice, so intimately pitched, sent a jolt through
Hakkai's system. He quickly got the breathing under control, hoping Sanzo hadn't
noticed. There was nothing he could do about the hardness between his legs, but
fortunately, he was facing away from the other man.
A slight intake of breath behind him, too small to even be a gasp, and Hakkai
knew Sanzo had noticed. The healer closed his eyes. Albeit during a possession,
Hakkai had still attempted to initiate physical intimacy last night. That
incident, taken with his involuntary reaction just now, could be misconstrued
by the monk as sexual interest. Hakkai was mortified.
"Sanzo," Hakkai began, then stopped abruptly when the pale hand on
his black silk shirt slid down to his waist.
"What are you doing?" Hakkai asked in his best no-nonsense tone,
spoiled by the raised pitch at the end.
"Verifying," Sanzo responded.
Fingertips slid over the rough fabric of his trousers, firmly outlining the
shape of his erection. To Hakkai's acute embarrassment, his member grew under
the touch. Sanzo removed his hand, and Hakkai relaxed fractionally in relief,
until the monk started undoing the fastenings.
"Sanz-oh!"
Hakkai startled at the cold touch of the arm glove ring on Sanzo's middle
finger. The ring slid down along the side of his penis, an odd contrast to the
warm, silken glove. All the blood seemed to drain out of his brain into his
groin, making the healer feel slow-witted.
"Wait," Hakkai breathed. He grabbed Sanzo's wrist, which the monk
ignored. "I believe you may have misunderstood. Ah!"
His hips bucked forward involuntarily when Sanzo grasped his erection and
squeezed firmly. At the same time, Sanzo scooted closer, pressing their bodies
together tightly. Even through the double layer of their trousers, Hakkai could
feel Sanzo's erection pressing against the small of his back.
"I-it's merely a physical response to..."
"Be quiet." Sanzo's left arm shifted under Hakkai's neck and two
slender fingers were thrust into his mouth.
Green eyes widened in surprise and Hakkai froze. With his youkai strength, he
could easily break free of Sanzo's demanding hands. In the entire ikkou, the
human monk was the most physically frail. It was that very vulnerability that
kept Hakkai at his back during battles, watching out for him, throwing out chi
shields.
Yes, Hakkai could free himself of this entanglement in an instant.
The youkai became aware that Sanzo's right hand had stopped moving, as if the
blond man were waiting for something. Hakkai tasted the fingers in his mouth
with the tip of his tongue. Salt and smoke. His mouth watered. Closing his
eyes, Hakkai pressed the flat of his tongue against the digits and began
sucking on them.
His hand let go of Sanzo's wrist and dropped to the ground almost of its own
accord. Sanzo's right hand started moving up and down, faster on the upstroke
and harder than Hakkai himself did when he masturbated. The monk's hips pushed
forward, grinding his erection into Hakkai and forcing the healer's hips
forward as well.
The only sounds in the shed were the soft slapping of flesh and the harsh
breathing of the two men.
Caught between Sanzo's grinding hips and relentless hand, it didn't take long
for the tingling to start at the base of his penis. Hakkai tried to be
efficient when taking matters into his own hand, so to speak, but this was
quick even for him. However, it had been a while since he'd been touched by
another intimately. Almost a year; on Gojyo's birthday. The mischievous redhead
had insisted no best friend would force a guy to visit a brothel alone on his
own birthday.
The thought of Gojyo caused an unexpected pang of guilt. With Gojyo's warm
smile in his mind, and Sanzo's hot breath on his neck, Hakkai's balls
tightened, and he orgasmed. He gasped at the release, hips locked forward.
Sanzo removed the fingers from his mouth, stretching his arm across Hakkai's
chest to grip his shoulder like a vise. The blonde's grinding became harder,
hip thrusts sharper. His hand continued to pump as semen spurted out across the
coarse blanket and dirt floor.
Hakkai twitched when Sanzo's hold on his sensitized member didn't let up. The
sharp hip thrusts became irregular, and Sanzo pushed up tight against him.
"Nngh," Sanzo groaned, pressing his face into Hakkai's neck.
Strong, slender fingers unwound from Hakkai's softening member and slid up to
rest on his hip. The left hand gripping his shoulder released him and fell to
the floor along Hakkai's own outstretched arm.
For a moment, the two men lay still until their breathing slowed and quieted.
Then, Sanzo slid his arm out from underneath Hakkai's neck and the hand on his
hip vanished. The healer felt the monk roll away from him and cool air rushed
in to fill the empty space.
Hakkai sat up on his knees, keeping his back to the monk. Using the blanket, he
cleaned up and tucked himself back in, straightening his clothes. Behind him,
he heard rustling fabric and assumed Sanzo was doing likewise. When the
rustling stopped, Hakkai turned around and began gathering the blankets,
carefully folding the wet spots inside.
Sanzo was sitting with one knee raised and the other bent under his now closed
robe. The growing light filtering through the broken door fell across him,
turning his hair gold and his skin almost translucent. Hakkai was reminded of
the pictures of saints in the illustrated books the nuns let him read at the
orphanage. One of the books had been so precious it was kept on a stand and he
had to wear gloves to touch it.
"You wouldn't want to dirty something so beautiful, would you, Gonou?"
the nun had asked.
Hakkai looked down at his hands and a small, mocking smile twisted his lips. Feeling
eyes on him, the healer looked up into an impossible purple. A pale eyebrow
rose in question. Hakkai shrugged.
"I wonder if there is a special place in Hell for seducing monks,"
Hakkai's smile almost hurt, and the joke fell flat.
Sanzo fished inside a sleeve and drew out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
He tapped out a stick and stuck it in his mouth.
"I don't believe in Hell," Sanzo said around the cigarette.
Purple eyes lowered as he lit the cigarette and rose again when the pack and
lighter disappeared back inside the sleeve.
"And I can't be seduced," Sanzo added.
The monk swiped his thumb across his tongue and took a deep drag on the
cigarette. Hakkai frowned. It must have been a trick of the light filtering
through the swirling smoke, but for a moment, it looked like Sanzo had smiled.
GLOSSARY
onsen ryokan: onsen = hot spring and ryokan = Japanese inn.
datsuijyo: changing room.
ikkou: troupe, party
araiba: washing area.
noren: short curtain hung in doorways, often at shop entrances.
yokujyo: bathing room
karami ori: aka Sha Silk is a member of the elegant Silk gossamers of
the gauze family.
Atta Dipa: Buddhist morning chant. Atta Dipa is chanted with the voice
starting low at the beginning of each line and rising for the last two
syllables...