cicer

Nicked from

trensaddiction: When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Tachibana leaned against the counter and looked at Ono sourly to emphasize his proclamation. Had he been around, Kanda probably would have squawked at him for speaking to Ono that way. But Kanda had already gone home for the night, and Tachibana felt justified in his complaint. When he’d decided to open up a bakery, he’d expected there would be some unpleasant jobs that would have to be done. However, he had not considered that one of them might be forcibly ejecting some of his pastry chef’s more ardent suitors when they came to call on him at his workplace. Tachibana was thoroughly displeased at this intrusion. Ono looked amused.

---

Gojyo pushed off of Sanzo and slumped against the sheets. His arm fell across Sanzo’s chest and Sanzo nudged it away, firmly but not roughly. Gojyo resettled the arm over his own head and closed his eyes. He heard Sanzo rummaging around in the nightstand and blindly stuck his hand out. “Gimme one,” he mumbled, knowing what Sanzo was reaching for. He heard Sanzo grunt with dissatisfaction at being asked to spare a cigarette and opened his eyes.

The curtains were open and the moonlight streamed over Sanzo’s back, and he searched for his lighter in the mess of robes on the floor. Gojyo studied the shadows that nestled in the curves of his spine and waited for him to finish. He would have liked to reach out and touch him, trace the curves of his back with his hands and mouth, but he knew Sanzo would push him away if he tried.

---

Gojyo tore up another handful of grass and blew spit bubbles. He laughed when they popped, looking pleased with himself, and turned to Jien to give him a wobbly baby smile. Jien forced himself to smile back, and leaned over to ruffle Gojyo’s hair. He’d been nearly bald at first, but in the last few months his hair had started coming in, thick and soft. And red. When he went into town to do the shopping, Jien had to put a hat on him, fearing it would draw attention from the townspeople. As long as Gojyo kept it on, and no one looked too closely at his eyes, it was all right though. So far, anyway.

---

The forest is dark and empty around him. He cannot quite remember how he got there. He has vague memories of walking, holding something…a bucket? He looks around and sees the container abandoned by a trickling stream. Struggling, he can remember kneeling by the banks and dipping the bucket in the flowing water, but there are gaps in his memory after that. He remembers an itch in his mind like an insect crawling inside of him. He dug his nails into his skin, trying to force it out. The marks on his arms are just disappearing now. After that, he remembers nothing.

There is somewhere he is supposed to be. He is sure of it. There are people, somewhere, who expect him to be there. He cannot quite remember who they are. Trying to force his memory, he comes up with a vague image of three men, but he doesn’t remember their names or who they are, or even why he should be with them.

---

It hadn’t bothered him that none of the monks had really liked him. Koumyou liked him, and that was all he needed. If there were no other children around, what did it matter? He didn’t need children as his playmates. Koumyou played with him freely and patiently and didn’t even mind him finger-painting with mud on his robes.

He was aware that there had always been rumors of his parentage, some finding it difficult to believe that a Sanzo would bother to fish an orphan out of the river and personally raise it. Fate had given him features similar enough to Koumyou’s that had only fanned the flames of wild stories of an affair with a town woman and a bastard child. Sanzo hadn’t minded. He disliked the questions such stories created about his master’s honor, but he considered it more of a compliment than anything else.

---

The whole room shut up again when Hakkai walked back in, this time alone. Gojyo stomach dropped, and stayed there, somewhere around his feet when Hakkai went over to the card table where he’d left his hand, turned the cards over, and pocketed his winnings. Gojyo thought he might be taking a little more than he’d actually won, but if he was, nobody dared to say anything.

Without a word, he turned on his heel, crossed the room, grabbed Gojyo by the wrist, and pulled him out the door. Gojyo knew the whole room was watching them and pretending they weren’t, but Hakkai didn’t seem to care. He looked completely unruffled but Gojyo wasn’t fooled.

He wondered if Hakkai was going to make him wear a collar and tag with his name on it. Maybe a tattoo across his forehead. Property of Cho Hakkai, violators will be prosecuted! ♥

---

He was halfway through sliding all the good cards out of the other man’s hand when he leaned over and murmured, “You know, you’re very good at that.” Gojyo looked up in surprise. Despite his attempts to engage the man in conversation, he’d been fairly reticent and hadn’t shown much interest in talked. Gojyo had been disappointed. After the long, clearly interested gaze the man had given him when Gojyo had been trying to silently entice him across the room, he’d hoped for at least a little quality flirting. It had begun to seem like he was wasting his energy trying to arouse the man’s interest. He was pleased for the opportunity to try again, but he would have like it better if he knew what the man was complimenting him on.

“Oh?” he asked, leaning forward to copy the man’s intimate posture. He smiled and paused in his work with the cards. “What’s that?”

“Mm, you know,” the man said, gesturing vaguely. “With the cards.” Gojyo’s hands froze, but the man smiled back at him. “You’re good,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t even have noticed if I hadn’t been looking for it.”

---

“Gojyo, are you all right?” he asked. Gojyo tried to explain that he seemed to be having a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from, and only succeeded in making a tiny choked noise in the back of his throat. Hakkai’s face creased with concern. He grasped the edge of the sleeping bag when Gojyo was holding it under his chin and tried to pry it back. Gojyo let it slip from his numb fingers. Hakkai peeled it back.

His eyes immediately focused on Gojyo’s chest. He stared for a couple seconds, a frighteningly blank expression on his face, before he blinked once. Twice. Three times, and finally his expression changed slightly. He opened his mouth. “Ah,” he started to say, and then stopped. He stared some more.

“Hakkai,” Gojyo whimpered, finally regaining the ability to form a sentence. He found the edge of his shirt, discarded last night, and used it to cover all the important bits. Hakkai finally moved his gaze from Gojyo’s chest to his face. Gojyo wrung the shirt in his hands. “My dick’s gone,” he said plaintively. Hakkai nodded, a little dazedly.

Guess who really need to get off her lazy butt and finish some of these? Yeah, that would be me. Eep. *shuffles off to open MS Word*