Title: Fairy Tale
Warnings: swearing and m/m foreplay
Rating: Mild R at the very end
Spoilers: a little of Hakkai's history
Notes: This was inspired by saiyuki_time prompt #9: Magic, but the previous thing I'd written for saiyuki_time was also 585 fluff, so I decided to do something else for the prompt. Then smillaraaq asked me very nicely to go ahead and write this anyway, so I did. I feel that it's pretty similar to my earlier story Night Watch, but I had fun writing it, so I hope that at least a few people will have fun reading it! Not too surprisingly, smillaraaq did the beta. Will be crossposted a couple of places.
Summary: How the hell did Gojyo know that Hakkai needed him, back home? Must be ... magic.
I need to get home.
The thought came to Gojyo as he sat at the card table in his usual bar. It was a more urgent thought than "I need to take a piss" usually was, but not quite as urgent as the "I need to get outta here now" that had saved his ass a number of times in his younger days.
It was not, actually, a bad moment to leave. His current hand was mediocre at best, and he'd already won enough to feed himself and Hakkai perfectly well for at least a week. Besides, instincts had kept him breathing and in the money quite nicely for the last few years. He had no reason to ignore them now.
So when the ante came around again, he folded. He rose slowly, stretched casually, put on his coat at a leisurely pace. There seemed no harm in waiting to see the hand out, or taking the time to slap Seido jovially on the back and congratulate him on his win. Then he strolled to the door, shaking his head and grinning cheerfully at the girls who pleaded for him to stay - or at least, go home with them.
He opened the tavern door to the swish and hiss of a rainstorm. OK, then - that must be it. He must've noticed the rain with some part of his mind when someone else had opened the door earlier. Hakkai, and rainstorms ... but he'd been alright the last few times. Gojyo swore under his breath and turned up the collar of his coat, then hurried off down the road.
Damn. Their little house was darker than it should have been. The few times he'd come home this early, he'd found Hakkai working at their kitchen table, getting assignments ready for Goku or one of the other kids he tutored, or working on another of his own correspondence courses. They'd had some pretty good talks. those evenings - himself not as drunk as usual, Hakkai wide awake and pleased to see him. But the light wasn't on in the kitchen tonight, nor in the bedroom.
He grabbed for the door, swung it open. The kitchen was clean and dark, cold and silent. He stood dripping on the mat for a minute. What little light there was came from the other end of the room - the little lamp on the table next to the tatty sofa, the new lamp that Hakkai had picked out last winter and hardly ever used because he usually read at the table or in bed. Gojyo was about to stride off in that direction when he stopped himself short. Hakkai would kill him if he trudged across the shiny floor in his muddy boots. He scrabbled at the straps, kicked them off: "Hakkai?"
There was no response to either the thump of the boots on the mat or his call. Maybe he just had a headache, decided to curl up and read. And fell asleep.
It was really stupid, how freaked out he felt. He tiptoed toward the sofa. And there was Hakkai. Sitting bolt upright, eyes open, a book on his lap - closed. His eyes weren't tracking Gojyo at all.
Gojyo shucked off his soaked coat and stomped over to his silent friend. "Hakkai!"
Not a twitch. Hakkai looked unnervingly like one of the funerary statues he'd once helped Banri boost from an antiques place, white porcelain skin and painted eyes and an expression like someone who expected to spend a couple of thousand years in a tomb with a corpse. Gojyo grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Snap out of it, buddy!"
Hakkai gave a little gasp, and his face relaxed. He blinked like he was just walking up. "Gojyo ... ?"
Gojyo sat down heavily next to him and slid one arm around his shoulders. "Yeah. Just me." He reached over and gently removed the book, which was starting to slide off toward Hakkai's sock-clad toes. "Are you OK?"
Hakkai was still blinking. He felt cold as the dead under Gojyo's arm, and he was shivering. "Just ... I just fell asleep."
"Asleep with your eyes open?"
"Were they? I was ... I was going to read, and ... ."
His voice trailed off. In the silence, Gojyo could hear the rain blowing and hissing against the window. Hakkai's eyes were glazing again, but this time, his lips were open, and Gojyo could see his tongue moving, could almost hear the name that was forming. And anyway, he knew what it had to be.
"Kanan ... ."
Gojyo half-stood and grabbed Hakkai, flipped him to lie full-length onto the sofa, and threw himself on top, gripping Hakkai's shoulders. "Listen to me, Hakkai! It's me! Be with me, damn it. It's now ... ," and he pressed his lips to his lover's.
It was as close as he ever hoped to come to kissing a corpse. Hakkai's lips were still and cold, and even his tongue ... . Gojyo screwed his eyes shut tight. It still smelled like Hakkai; the lean, smoothly muscled body beneath him still felt like Hakkai. He stroked his own hot tongue over those icy lips and breathed his own warm, desperate breath into that half-open mouth. And suddenly Hakkai twitched and gasped, and one hand came up and threaded itself into Gojyo's dripping hair. His lips pursed and then relaxed, and the tip of his tongue met Gojyo's. Gojyo deepened the kiss, reaching into Hakkai's mouth, feeling the flesh warm and respond. Hakkai wrapped his other arm over Gojyo's back and shifted underneath him, making them both more comfortable. At last Gojyo dared to break off and open his eyes.
Hakkai was looking back at him, tired and sad, but himself, present and aware and trying to smile. "Gojyo ... how is it you always know what I need?"
Gojyo started to blush and chuckle, but stopped, thinking about the strange moment in the bar tonight. He shook his head instead and sighed. "Ahhh, who knows. It was just a kiss, babe."
Hakkai's eye crinkled at the corners, and he squeezed some water out of the handful of hair he was clutching. "You're soaked ... there's a children's tale from the West, you know, about a king's daughter who was cursed for the sins of her parents, so that she slept for a century. In fact, the curse was so virulent that all the members of the king's household were affected, even down to the horses in the stables, while the forest took back the land around the palace. At last a young nobleman made his way through the wilderness and found the girl, asleep. When he kissed her, the enchantment was broken, and she awoke at last."
As he spoke, his other hand was drifting down Gojyo's back, over the base of his spine, to rest at last on one asscheek. He squeezed gently, the tips of his long fingers digging into the cleft between. Gojyo felt a flush of warmth rush into his crotch and ground himself against Hakkai's hip, turning his face into Hakkai's neck to lick and nibble. He felt the vibrations against his lips as Hakkai spoke again, his voice lower and a little rougher.
"And then there's an older version of the same tale, a version that was not told to children. It says that the handsome prince had to do ... rather more ... to wake up the princess."
Gojyo, grinning, eased himself half off Hakkai and started on the buttons of his shirt. "I guess I could try that too," he said.