Want

from the Admission series
by scribblemoose

Gojyo advanced on Sanzo with a heated, predatory look in his eyes.

"You want it?"

Sanzo swallowed the remnants of humiliation. That it had come to this. That he had to ask. That he had to put himself here in the filth of this dark alley so that Gojyo would know what he wanted.

That he wanted at all.

"Say it, monk."

His eyes narrowed, glittered fury at Gojyo, but it made no difference. However hard he tried to fool himself, Gojyo left him with no doubts. He did want this. He wanted rough sex in an alley, now, with someone who could take it. Give it.

Whatever.

He wanted it.

"Fuck you," he spat out, hand flying out to catch Gojyo's wrist as he extended it over Sanzo's shoulder. Planning to lean over him, palm flat on the wall, as if he were some shy virgin at a party waiting to be chatted up.

Gojyo's hand curled to a fist for an instant, then relaxed. But Sanzo held on to his arm just the same.

"Fuck you," he repeated.

"If you like," said Gojyo, an inevitable smile curling his lips. "But you want me to fuck you, really."

Sanzo grunted. Bang on the nail, as always.

"Turn around," said Gojyo, his free hand moving Sanzo by his shoulder. "Brace yourself against the wall."

The robes made it simple. Nothing underneath, his jeans discarded back at the inn, because he'd known he'd do this. Again. It was easy for Gojyo to shove the rough fabric up to his waist, exposing his pale, needy flesh. Sanzo let go of Gojyo's wrist and obediently turned, face to the wall. He put his hands against the dirty brick and spread his legs, just far enough that Gojyo could get a thigh between them. Heard the metallic rip of Gojyo's zip coming down, the rustle of fabric. The smug grunt of satisfaction as Gojyo reached around and found Sanzo already hard and leaking for him.

"Fuck me." He wanted the waiting and the humiliation to stop, and the pleasure to start. The white hot desperate pleasure that blanked his mind and made him feel less than human.

Gojyo didn't say anything, just worked a couple of slick fingers up Sanzo's ass, so fast he had to stifle a yelp. It didn't hurt. Sanzo wondered if he wanted it to hurt.

He wondered if Gojyo wanted it to hurt.

The fingers slid in and out a few times, firm but careful, scissoring slightly, opening him up.

Open and raw and vulnerable.

Wanting, wanting, wanting.

Sanzo pressed the top of his head to the wall and stared at the black, grimy concrete of the alley.

Something hot and slick and velvet pressed against his hole. Round. Wet. Insistent.

Sanzo bit down on his arm, and let Gojyo in.

One hand gripped his hip, the other stretched up his back, pushing him flat, making it easier. Pulling him back to impale himself on Gojyo's thick, hot cock. He went willingly, as if he was some tavern slut desperate to be fucked. Gojyo went deep, deeper, murmuring things Sanzo didn't want to hear, but that didn't matter. It was easy enough to block him out, to focus instead on the pounding of his own heartbeat, the roaring in his ears, the throbbing of his cock. The thick, live thing inside him.

Somehow, Gojyo got through it all anyway.

"I wish you'd let me do this in a bed one day, you uptight bastard. I'm fucking good at this, you know." And Gojyo drew out a little, adjusted his angle, slid back in, grazing with perfect pressure over Sanzo's prostate, as if to prove his point. "Just once, to do it slowly, in a nice warm bed. Just give me one night and I promise-"

"Shut up and fuck me," Sanzo sobbed out. Because that thought was too dangerous. No slow. No warm. No promises. Especially no promises.

That way madness lay.

Gojyo made a disgusted little noise, and started to fuck. Sanzo could feel sadness wash off him for a moment or two, but not for long. Gojyo got caught up in the fuck, the here and now, they both did, and everything else faded away.

For the first time, he let Gojyo jerk him off, allowed himself the exquisite foreign friction of another's hand. It was good. Damn good. Fucking good.

"Ready, monk?"

Sanzo thrust his hips back in response, and Gojyo shifted up a gear. Hard and fast now, balls slapping against his own, short, harsh breath, Gojyo's husky voice echoing in the alleyway.

"You gonna squirt for me?"

He couldn't help himself. He came instantly, at Gojyo's command, spurting so hard he hit the wall, then the ground, then Gojyo's fingers as they flew over his skin, not stopping, knowing he didn't want them to stop, not 'til it was over. Even though Gojyo was coming himself, filling him, flooding him, moving slick and sticky inside him now, hips jerking, another arm curling round to give Sanzo's balls a final, not-quite-hurting squeeze.

Then that arm held him around the waist, and the other reached up, offering come-wet fingers to Sanzo's lips.

He tried to resist, but the smell of come and sex and tobacco filled his head, and before he knew it his tongue had flicked out to taste. Then Gojyo was leaning over his shoulder and licking too, their tongues brushed against each other, and somehow Sanzo was panting his breath into Gojyo's, and his mouth was pressing against Gojyo's, and he was standing there, standing up, ass sore, heart clenching, kissing. Kissing.

"Not gonna take no for an answer," Gojyo mumbled, his hair soft and silky against Sanzo's skin. "Bed."

Sanzo glared at him, and would have refused, if his voice hadn't caught in the tight lump in his throat.

"Trust me." Gojyo smiled, too soft, too sexy. "I know what you want."

He turned and left the alley.

Sanzo could only follow.

Illustration by PL Nunn