January 3, 2005

Happy New Year, everyone! I present my first story of the year, brought to you in stereo sound… just kidding. As usual, it features my pet pairing, albeit without the nice explicit lemon I wanted to write for them. Alas! Hope you enjoy anyway. I’ve wanted to write something like this for a while, because while WAFF and fluff is all nice and good, living together with someone can be pretty un-romantic at times. And we all know how charming and cooperative Sanzo is, mwahahahahaha.

Warnings: None, really, aside from the usual shounen-ai. As always, standard disclaimer applies.

This Dandy Life
By Pervasive Threnody

---

When Sanzo awoke to the sun glaring in his eyes, he knew he’d slept much later than planned. With a groan he rolled onto his side and shut his eyes, willing time to stop.

After a few inert moments Sanzo proceeded to take stock of his condition, a practice which had become a common morning routine in years past. A lengthy stretch revealed nothing but the usual aches and pains; it seemed he was always perpetually tense. Amazingly, no headache. Only a bad taste in his mouth and a craving for a cigarette or two…

Smoke, or linger in bed? It was now a pressing decision. Sanzo cast a glance at the open box of Marlboros on the bedside table and made his choice. In moving to sit up, however, he was stopped short and pulled backward with an ungentle THUMP.

“The hell?” Grumbling, Sanzo tried to shove the offender away. “Get off me, Goku, I want out of bed.” There was no reply, only a loud snore. Sanzo pushed again, but he was held fast.

“Damn it all, you’re annoying even when you sleep.”

More snoring.

Sanzo groaned inwardly, mashed a palm into his face, and decided he might as well go back to sleep at this rate. The cigarettes could, WOULD have to wait until Goku finally let him go. God knew Sanzo hadn’t the strength to pry him off.

He was almost asleep again when his senses registered stirring, and a movement in his general direction. Sanzo opened his eyes to find Goku gazing down at him, a smile dancing on his full lips.

“Good morning,” Goku purred, and leaned in to kiss him; despite his better judgment, as was always the case, Sanzo allowed it. Almost immediately Goku pressed deeper, his tongue running along the rim of Sanzo’s teeth, and again Sanzo acquiesced.

Then the kiss abruptly stopped. “Ugh,” Goku said, and pulled away.

“Ugh?” Sanzo’s eyebrows arched sky-high. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You taste gross,” Goku offered by way of explanation, a petulant scowl on his face.

“Of all the--” Sanzo turned on him with an incredulous splutter. “You cling to me in your sleep like an idiot when I try to get out of bed, wake me up to satisfy YOUR hard-on, and then have the nerve tell me I taste bad?”

“Well, you do,” Goku responded churlishly.

“It’s MORNING, you idiot. What the hell do you expect my mouth to taste like? Pot stickers?” Sanzo flung the covers aside and got out of bed, wincing at the resultant chill as he did so. “For God’s sake, you probably do, don’t you.”

“Sanzo, come on, I didn’t mean to make you mad!”

“Just stuff it,” was Sanzo’s reply as he stalked out of the room. Goku’s incessant pleading followed him all the way.

---

Stuff it, indeed. Cursing to himself, Sanzo climbed into the shower and turned on the hot water. The water began to flow, dampening his hair and chest… and rekindling the arousal that had gone unattended. Vindictively, Sanzo shoved the faucet handle to the opposite side, turning the water cold. He stood motionless for a bit, teeth chattering, then grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed it over his body. After a quick shampoo, Sanzo turned the water off and stepped from the shower, shivering and unsatisfied.

When he entered the kitchen Goku was already there, nursing a glass of orange juice. He tossed a withered glance in Sanzo’s direction, then turned his full attention to a bowl of cereal. Sanzo rolled his eyes and began to make breakfast. For himself.

As the eggs cooked, Sanzo stood motionless at the stove, unwilling to turn and face his lover. It wasn’t as though he’d meant to get so angry; but, really, what was he SUPPOSED to do? They may have been new to living together, but they’d known each other too long – and spent enough bleary, bad-breathed mornings together on the way West – for this sort of crap to be acceptable.

Too many expectations and high hopes, and all they amounted to were situations like this. Sanzo sighed, poked at his eggs, and cast a glance at Goku’s reflection in the window. Still dressed in his silk boxers, the younger man was every bit the classical rumpled sleeper: eyes glazed, jaw slack and drooping, hair a mess. (Though, admittedly, it was harder to tell that his hair was unkempt at all, being that it stuck out at odd angles no matter what.)

As Sanzo watched, Goku’s shoulders rose and fell, and he swirled the cereal with his spoon, looking miserable. He had a choice now—he could ignore the situation that had arisen and go on with the day like nothing was wrong, or do something to wipe that damn pout from Goku’s face. Either way, it seemed he was going to lose.

The hell with it. Sanzo grabbed a plate from the cupboard and heaped the eggs on it.

“Here,” he said simply, plopping the food in front of Goku’s face. Goku lifted his head from his chin, blinked down at the table, then turned to look at Sanzo.

“Huh, Sanzo, but aren’t these for—”

“Don’t question it, if you know what’s good for you.” Sanzo turned on his heel, returned to the stove, began to cook more eggs for himself.

He was always doing stupid things for that monkey. That stupid, stupid fool…

Which of them was the fool, again?

Sanzo chanced a look at the reflection in the window: between bites of his egg breakfast, Goku was smiling ear-to-ear.

----

It had always been, this strange love-hate between them. A slow, burning madness, that shook the walls as doors slammed with the force of anger, and caused the windows to tremble with the fervent urgency of orgasm. Even long before sharing a bed, a house, or even a life together in a distant monastery, it was there. “Like an old married couple,” Hakkai had mused once as he watched Sanzo and Goku argue. There was a truth to the statement that Sanzo had not wanted to acknowledge that day, when he’d stopped himself from lashing out at Hakkai by braining Goku with his paper fan instead…

…it was as if they’d skipped over the blissful honeymoon and gone straight to being jaded about the whole thing.

Maybe it was better that way, Sanzo mused. At least there was no real disillusionment; not when you already knew your bed partner snored to wake the dead and had embarrassingly voracious appetites for every vice he favored. And at least it wouldn’t take a lifetime to discover that, flaws or not, you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Sanzo was roused from his thoughts by the sound of a door slamming in the adjoining room. He looked up from his newspaper to see Goku emerge from the bedroom, shirtless and shower-damp. He strode up behind Sanzo’s easy chair and draped his arms across the back. Water dripped from still-wet hair, tickling Sanzo’s neck and shoulders.

“You’re dripping on me,” he commented flatly, and felt Goku shrug. “For pity’s sake, did you dry yourself at all?”

“Nope,” Goku intoned, breath hot on his lover’s neck. “You’d just make me wet again, anyway.”

“Ugh. Disgusting. Was that supposed to be a turn-on?”

“Maybe.” A warm tongue licked slyly at Sanzo’s ear. “If you want it to be.”

“I don’t.” Sanzo leaned forward, forcing Goku to break contact. “Quit it.”

“You’re so cold,” Goku mumbled peevishly, moving away. Sanzo returned to reading the newspaper, fully aware that Goku had been only mildly deterred by the deflection of his affections.

Indeed, no more than twenty minutes later Goku was back--dry, and apparently hornier than ever. He swung his legs over the arms of Sanzo’s chair and plopped into the man’s lap. With an irritated grunt, Sanzo shoved into him with a knee. “Get lost.”

“No.” Goku leaned in and stole a kiss. “Ohh,” he murmured with a pleased purr as he withdrew, “you don’t taste bad anymore.”

“Don’t you dare bring that up again.” Sanzo tossed his newspaper aside. Goku took the invitation and slid closer, shifting his knees to straddle Sanzo’s thighs.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to become heated. Despite Sanzo’s cold, libido-taming morning shower, the discomfort resulting from the unsatisfactory morning greeting he’d received from his lover still lingered. And Goku…well, heaven knew Goku’s own desires would never be assuaged. Already he was insistent, hips pressing into Sanzo’s lap, whimpering slightly as his fingers scrambled for purchase of Sanzo’s shirt.

Another slow grind, and Sanzo moaned, arching backward sharply. Goku followed the movement, pressing forward to twine his arms around Sanzo’s midsection…

…and the easy chair, with one smooth movement, rocked too far backward and lost its balance, hitting the ground with a jarring THUD.

A long, horrible silence ensued.

Through the loud pounding in his head, Sanzo heard Goku finally say, “This isn’t exactly where I was hoping we’d end up.”

“Just get off me,” Sanzo rasped, shoving weakly at Goku’s shoulders. “God, my head fucking hurts. Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry,” Goku murmured, and slid away. He extended a hand to help Sanzo up, which Sanzo promptly ignored in favor of stumbling upright on his own.

“You really know how to kill the mood, you know that?”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault, huh?” Goku crossed his arms and glared. “You know, it’s not always easy to come on to you when you’re such a block of ice.”

“Get over it.” Sanzo righted the easy chair and sat back down, massaging his temples. Goku glared at him for a few moments more, jaw clenched, then stalked off.

The sound of water running – again – was loud in Sanzo’s ears.

----

Before the incident in the chair, Sanzo had been planning to cook some sort of lunch. Now all he really had the energy to do was nurse a cigarette and scowl.

When Goku returned to the room, he looked tired, but peaceful. No surprise there. Sanzo smirked and took a deep lungful of smoke, watching out of the corner of his eye as the brunette puttered around the kitchen restlessly in search of food.

“Get dressed,” Sanzo suddenly announced, stubbing out his cigarette. “We’re going out to eat.”

Goku stared at him blankly. “Really? How come?”

“Don’t ask dumb questions. I’m hungry, you’re hungry, and I sure as hell am not in the mood to cook. Five minutes and I’m leaving you behind.”

Surprisingly, lunch proceeded without a single mishap or disaster. It seemed Goku was on his best behavior: he ordered only half the items on the menu, spilled just a bit on his shirt as he worked his way through, and hardly made any chomping noises. It was almost enough for Sanzo to be delighted with the sudden turn in fortune, especially when Goku leaned over and whispered happily in his ear, “Thank you for forgiving me.” Of course, it wouldn’t do to be completely agreeable, so Sanzo allowed himself a flick at Goku’s nose and a “Quit being sappy” to make up for it.

Just the way it was supposed to be.

Mid-afternoon found the two strolling through town at Goku’s behest. He seemed to be looking for something, though he wouldn’t tell Sanzo what. Humoring him, Sanzo stepped away to purchase cigarettes and argue habitually with the seller over the clip-joint prices. After a spirited tiff, he walked away with his purchase: three cartons of Marlboro Reds and a spare lighter.

The wind was picking up, swirling the dead leaves lying in the road as Sanzo sought his lover once more. The heat of summer would soon give way to a blinding rain, and they would be caught in it if they weren’t prudent. Eventually he found Goku standing by the meatbun vendor’s stall, arms burdened with full paper sacks.

Goku smiled hopefully. “Can we buy--”

“No.”

“Grrr… fine.”

They walked in companionable silence back to their small home. Once the property of two venerable, but very old married people, it had become theirs after they’d returned from the journey West and Sanzo had decided he’d had enough of living in the temple. Made of brick, the house was well-insulated, with two bedrooms (the second room had been agreed upon by both parties when they realized there would be many nights it would be singly occupied), two bathrooms, and a sizeable kitchen in which to cook Goku’s ample meals. Though not luxurious, it was more than many people in the same village had ever had, and though there was no real domesticity inherent in the household, it didn’t matter. Theirs was a life that suited the pair well… most of the time.

“I suppose you aren’t going to tell me what it is you were compelled to buy today,” Sanzo said to Goku as they entered the house. “Not that I care, of course.”

“Nope, not gonna,” Goku crowed as he spirited his purchases away. Sanzo rolled his eyes and lit up a smoke, shutting the door tightly and adding the deadbolt to the lock after doing so. He settled onto the sofa, working on his cigarette and absently listening to the muffled crashing noises coming from other parts of the house.

Rain began to fall, the sound of it making Sanzo drowsy. Despite himself he gave in, tossed his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, and lay down to nap.

----

When Sanzo awoke again, it was to the sound of his name being softly murmured in his ear. “Wake up,” Goku whispered, brushing away a strand of Sanzo’s golden hair and kissing his sleep-flushed cheek. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Great. What is it,” Sanzo said into his pillow, not bothering to move.

“You have to wake up and come look.”

“Oh, goody.”

“Sanzoooo,” Goku whined. “Please? You’ve been lying there forever.”

“Strange, it only felt like a few minutes to me.” But he sat up anyway, rubbed his eyes, and fought a yawn. “This had better be good, Monkey.”

“I promise.” Goku grasped Sanzo’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Maintaining his grip, he led Sanzo toward the kitchen.

“Why is the house so dark?” Sanzo peered around him and frowned. “Did the storm knock out the power?”

“No storm.” Smiling, Goku walked him into the kitchen. “Just a little mood-lighting, is all.”

“Mood...oh.”

Goku’s mysterious actions earlier in the afternoon were now revealed to be, of all things, preparation for a candle-lit dinner. Flowers on the table, wine chilling, bread in a basket, the whole works. Sanzo shook his head and said,

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope, no joke. Here, have a seat.” Reluctantly Sanzo let Goku lead him to a chair.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he tried to say, but a slim finger to the lips stopped him short. Goku smiled softly, then moved toward the kitchen counter and picked up some dishes.

“Just relax,” Goku said as he served Sanzo a portion. Then he turned and added food to his own plate.

“Lasagna?” Sanzo blinked at his food.

“Of course. I know you like it, so don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Hn.”

They settled in and ate in relative peace. Goku passed the bread, poured some wine for Sanzo and himself, tried to engage his lover in discussion. Sanzo, for his part, could find nothing worth complaining about with regards to Goku’s treatment or cooking skills, so he settled for non-committal answers to the attempts at sparking conversation.

A few glasses of wine into the meal, Sanzo was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. Being an experienced drinker, he had the control advantage over Goku, who was, by now, full-on tipsy. Sanzo watched in amusement as Goku rotated his wrist, making the wine in his glass chase itself around in circles.

“Weee,” he giggled, and shakily set the glass down. “I feel good.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Sanzo said. He took another bite of the dessert cake they were now sharing. “Where and how did you buy all this, anyway? I don’t recall giving you any money.”

“Tr-trade secret,” Goku said, nodding vigorously. “I think I’ve had ‘nough…”

“I think you’re right.” Sanzo reached over, took Goku’s glass, and swigged the contents neatly down.

“Of th’wine,” Goku finished belatedly. He grinned and rested his chin in one hand. “You look so pretty in th’moonlight…”

Sanzo twitched. “We’re inside.”

“Oh. Right. Is this the part where I get to hold your hand?”

Another twitch. “I’d rather you didn’t—”

But it was too late, and Goku was already snaking a hand across the plate-and-dish-strewn table. Before Sanzo could stop him, the jerky movement upset a precariously-balanced candleholder, and the apparatus collided with the table.

The tablecloth ignited.

“Oh, shit!” Goku yelped. Jumping from his seat, he grabbed a napkin to beat out the flame; fed a burst of oxygen, the fire climbed higher.

“Stop it, you idiot, you’re making it worse!” Sanzo reached out with his water glass to douse the fire and was beaten to his mission by Goku brandishing what was left of the wine.

“It’s okay!” he shouted, and tipped the bottle. “Don’t worry; I’ll put it …out?”

They both stared in helpless horror as the tablecloth burst into flames.

“Oh, that’s not good at all,” Goku said dumbly.

----

Ten minutes later, the fire was out. The entire house had been saved, at the cost of one kitchen table and the last of Sanzo’s patience and energy.

“I’m going to sleep; clean this shit up and sleep in the other room,” he said, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Inside the room, Sanzo tore off his shirt and flung it onto a chair. His outer pants joined it a moment later. Then, not caring a whit if Goku complained about stray ashes later, he grabbed his cigarette pack, lighter and ashtray, and flung himself on the bed.

He was more relaxed by the third and last cigarette, but just barely. When he finished Sanzo set everything aside and lay down to sleep, trying to push the whole day out of his mind with little success.

And then the door opened, tiptoeing, tentative footsteps heralding the sound of a body making its way toward him. God damn, he thought to himself, I am going to strangle you if you even try to get in this bed.

But Goku didn’t. Even with his eyes closed, Sanzo could sense that he had stopped about halfway into the room. At least he had some sense not to risk further ire.

“I told you not to come in here, Monkey,” Sanzo said flatly. “Go away.”

Goku’s voice was hesitant. “Well, you just told me to SLEEP in the other room, not to not come in at all—“

“Can it. You know what I meant.” Sanzo rolled over, putting his back to Goku. “I said, get lost.”

“Sanzo?”

No reply.

“Sanzo, I’m sorry.”

“Fine. Whatever. Just leave me in peace.”

“I will.” The sound of footsteps. “But I have one last surprise for you…”

“No.” Sanzo’s body tensed. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I never listen to you anyway.” And Goku lifted his hand and pressed something into Sanzo’s back.

The sensation was nothing short of astounding, compelling Sanzo to gasp in surprise as his whole body erupted with a tingling sensation. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he panted, going limp.

“I’m not doing anything.” The sensation stopped. “THIS is.”

Sanzo stared at the wooden, claw-shaped contraption in dumb surprise. “It’s… a…”

“It’s called a Happy Massage,” Goku supplied. He returned to massaging Sanzo’s back. “Dumb name, but it’s amazing, isn’t it? They were selling them in the market today, so I bought one.”

“You did something right for a change,” Sanzo mumbled. Moments later, the tingling sensation ceased again, and the air filled with the scent of mint.

“Stay still,” Goku murmured, kissing his back. Hands replaced the Happy Massage and began to knead. Sanzo sighed.

“I shouldn’t be letting you do this, you brat.”

“Oh, be quiet.” The hands began to press deeper, trailing across Sanzo’s shoulders, up his neck, down his back. It was so incredibly soothing Sanzo nearly forgot that he had ordered his lover to the doghouse.

But not quite.

As Goku reached toward the bedside table get some more massage oil, Sanzo summoned all his energy and flipped onto his back, knocking Goku’s knees out from under him in the process.

“Surprise,” he deadpanned, and nearly laughed at the shocked look on Goku’s face.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d be in the mood,” he stammered, blushing deeply.

“Goku, you’ve tried at least twice today to get in my pants, and failed miserably both times. Trust me. I’m in the mood.”

Goku smiled. “All right, but I’m on top.”

“Master of the obvious.” Sanzo drew him down for a kiss; Goku sighed deeply and obliged, eyes drooping shut with contentment

“Taste… so good,” he breathed when they broke apart.

“Is that all you think of me?” Sanzo arched an eyebrow and sat up a little. “Your own personal, human-sized meatbun?”

“No,” Goku panted breathlessly, and reached down to tug at the waistband of Sanzo’s sleeping shorts. “And you know that.”

Sanzo smirked. “How could I not, Monkey, when your heart never leaves your sleeve.”

Hungrily, they divested one another of clothing. “Do you know,” Goku said, his voice husky as he nuzzled Sanzo’s bare chest, “that I’ve wanted to do this all day?”

“No shit. Get on with it and stop being sappy.”

“Before we burn the house down,” Goku agreed, smiling impishly against Sanzo’s lips.

----

Sanzo awoke to the warmth of Goku curled against his chest, dead to the world and snoring away. A trail of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto Sanzo’s arm as he slept. Sanzo looked down at it, at Goku, and shook his head.

As usual, Sanzo stretched lazily and took stock of his condition. He was tired, sore, and… sticky, with an idiot clinging to him just like the night before. Not much of a change. Sighing, he dropped a hand to Goku’s hair and left it there.

To end up here, together, of all places. And neither of them yet killed by the other. It had to be the act of a very cruel god somewhere…

Or maybe a goddess. A female would be that cruel. Well, whatever. Sanzo smirked to himself and leaned down to kiss the top of Goku’s head.

A god damned miracle. It really was.

Owari

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Hope you enjoyed. Many thanks for reading!