Sa Gojyo lifted a languorous hand to push sweat-tangled strings of crimson hair out of his face. It was a sweltering summer day, and he'd been combating the oppressive humidity with can after can of cold beer. All that alcohol combined with the unrelenting heat had taken its toll, and he was curled on his side on the bare wooden floor next to the bed he shared with Hakkai, reduced to passively waiting for evening to arrive with its presumed drop in temperature. He didn't find this undignified sprawl too terribly embarrassing -- besides, he was home alone right now. Hakkai was off at Sanzo's temple, trying to teach the bakazaru to read and write. Gojyo didn't envy the former schoolteacher his pupil, and he anticipated that Hakkai would be gone the entire day, as well as much of the evening. Hell, he'd probably be spending the better part of week on this endeavor -- Goku's head was that thick.

Of course, this was part of his problem. If Hakkai had been here, Gojyo wouldn't have been bored enough to drink himself into a near-stupor. And some decent conversation would have served well to distract him from how goddamned *hot* he was!

Gojyo sighed heavily, his arm falling back to the floor with a dull thud. It was too hot even for a smoke. He'd thrown open every door and window in the hopes of catching any passing breeze, but so far he could swear he was just letting more warm air into the small house.

His eyelids were heavy with beer and lethargy. It would have been a nice escape if he could have fallen asleep until it cooled down, but it was far too sticky-hot for sleep.

And, damn it, he was horny! Gojyo was exasperated to an extreme by this. He was so limp everywhere else that he doubted he could have stood upright without some sort of assistance, and he'd have thought that the heat would have been enough to melt even the most carnal of impulses... and yet here he was, undeniably hard within his loose breeches. Maybe there was something to being an ero-kappa after all.

He was feeling too lazy to bother reaching into his pants and jerking off, so he just lay there, vaguely irritated by the throbbing itch between his legs.

The soft sound of a footfall before his face brought scarlet eyes blearily open, sleepy gaze focusing on nothing in particular. It didn't much matter as a rustle of cool silk brushed over the sweat-stained skin of his flushed face, the smell of tobacco, incense, and the faintest trace of gunpowder tickling at his nostrils. He closed his eyes again.

In one wide step over his head, his visitor was behind him. He was too sleepy and warm to bother with rolling over or speaking, but he knew who it was, and so he knew that conversation was neither likely nor desired. He didn't feel like getting in a fight in this heat, himself.

With a rush of air that was not cool, but which felt so for its sudden motion over his flesh, the person behind Gojyo joined him on the floor. Gojyo cracked a scarlet eye, his lips parting, although his jaw remained closed. The thrum between his legs picked up, the itch exacerbated. He flexed lazily against the floorboards, but otherwise did not move in response.

A hard knee nudged at the spot where his neck met his shoulders, heat washing over him from the body that bent, a slender arm reaching over and around, elegant fingers trailing through the beads of sweat that had collected between his pectorals.

Gojyo let out a soft breath, his hands resting loosely on the floor in front of his face, passively allowing this to happen. The caress moved from the upper level of his belly around his side, then whispered a wandering path up the hard planes of his exposed back.

The knee was removed from his shoulders, his long hair stirred and lifted from the nape of his neck. Gojyo licked his lips, tasting the sour tang of beer mingled with the salt of his own sweat. It tasted like sex. His eyes slitted nearly closed as a moist-warm gust of breath broke against his skin, followed closely by the almost tender butterfly-brush of full lips over the sensitized area. His entire body resonated toward the gentle stimulation, but he lay still, body lax, eyes half-lidded, simply experiencing. This was all that was expected of him, and, right now, it was about the entirety of what he was capable of.

A tongue lapped against the knob at the base of his neck, taking up the flavor of Gojyo's perspiration, laving his flesh with damp softness and heat. Gojyo shivered, his own tongue darting out to wet his lips again, lean fingers flexing like a contented cat's claws. Sexual awareness flowed through his body, rendering him even more lax against the floor, liquid heat flooding the base of his belly. His throbbing cock fought to escape the confines of his breeches, and he gasped slightly as a hand clasped his rear in an uncompromising grip.

This touch was fleeting, however, and soon the fingers went to the waistband of his pants; his only piece of clothing. They unfastened the fly and peeled the sweat-damp material down his lean hips, dragging a sharp hiss from him as his straining erection was jerked down along with them before springing gloriously free. The rough friction sent a spear of pleasure-pain through his gut, and his eyes fell shut once again in the overflow of sensation. And yet he still did not uncoil from his position on his side.

It felt good to be somewhat closer to naked as his breeches were stripped entirely away, but the fever rushing through the surface of his skin went a long way toward negating this slight relief. Hard fingertips pressed to the swell of his tight buttocks, the tingle of blunt-cut nails denting the sensitive swell.

Gojyo opened his eyes lazily, feeling the sweat trickling over his face, down his chest and back, a trailer of hair caught between his parted lips, tickling his cheek. The familiar scent of musky oil drifted past his nose. His gaze slid lazily back as slick fingers probed at his entrance, anointing the small pucker before sliding deeply inside, but all he could see was a swath of silken gold. He did not roll, but instead lifted his right leg higher, offering himself more fully to the intrusive digits; not incidentally pressing the smooth length of his inner thigh against the wildly throbbing erection that stood boldly out from his crimson-thatched groin.

The fingers inside turned and twisted, lubricating his passage at the same time he was stretched. Gojyo drew in a sharp breath, hips flexing slightly, one hand twitching as though he would reach down to stroke himself. Then there was sudden emptiness inside, followed by a stinging slap to his bare rump, and he started slightly before subsiding. That was his warning not to move. He was not allowed to be an active participant in this encounter. He was just as glad -- the beer still held him in a sluggish daze, and all this erotic activity was making him even hotter than the searing summer weather dictated.

Gojyo bit his lower lip sharply as a blunt roundness pressed at his oil-slicked anus, hard hands fitting over the sharp protrusions of his pelvis as though they belonged there. The grip tightened, and a low keening sound forced itself from Gojyo's throat as he felt himself split open and penetrated without hesitation or remorse. His spine arched outward, head falling back, mouth open in a soundless moan. His body was propelled forward over the bare wooden floor with the force of the extended thrust, sweat-stroked skin catching on the boards but only pinching a little, this sensation and all others swallowed up by and written over with the sheer intensity of the hard cock driving further into him with each heartbeat that passed. He was barely lubricated, had only been stretched to the width of two fingers, and this hurt, more than a little, but it was a *good* hurt; one that burned and went straight to his already aching erection in tightening fingers of erotic ecstasy.

A low grunt sounded in his ear, arms rising to ring his chest, as the burning hardness seated itself fully in his taut body. Gojyo gasped for breath, tilting his head back to rest against a bony shoulder, his hair trailing in his face and clinging to the sweat that coated the surface of his skin. Whether it was allowed or not, at this point he couldn't resist the urge to reach down and wrap his own fingers around his blazing hard-on. As his ass was taken in a series of hard, violent jolts, he didn't think it mattered anymore.

His fingers smeared a veritable flood of hot precum over the head of his penis, the slickness easing the friction as he began jerking his hand over the shaft in that familiar up and down motion that he was so skilled at. He modified his strokes to match the give and take of his distended anus about the driving spire that jabbed into the depths of his innards.

"Uhghn... gods..." he groaned, losing the rhythm and instead flailing his cock as hard and fast as his hand would move. He loved taking Hakkai, he felt more during their sexual sessions than he ever had for any female, and yet there was something about being *taken* that could not be duplicated, that reached deeply into the core of his being and told him that this was the place he was supposed to be, that this was the way sex should always happen, and that all the rest was just play-acting. As much as he tried to deny it, there was a part of him that enjoyed being submissive, being completely and utterly dominated, and that was the part that was in control now.

Sharp teeth sank into the curve of his shoulder, sending a stab of pain to conjoin with the intense pleasure radiating from his entire lower torso; front and back. Gojyo cried aloud, his body going stiff as molten heat spilled through his fingers, his climax spurting over the floorboards before him for a good three feet. Shiver-shocks of fire ran through his entire frame. Objectively, he knew that he could have lasted a lot longer -- usually *did* last a lot longer -- but there was something about an abrupt, forceful fuck on the floor on a hot summer day, and the pleasure was overwhelming him, singing through his entire frame, and for the incandescent, feverish moment of his vivid orgasm nothing else mattered but attaining the goal, reaching the peak of his powerful climax.

He collapsed after those long, tension-stringing moments of utter bliss, his body falling in a limp collection of loose limbs and long crimson hair, like a marionette with its strings cut. The relentless pounding continued for another minute or two, before the arms about his torso tightened and the hips pressed against his ass tightened, the body behind his stiffening, liquid heat unfurling within his bowels. He swore he hadn't ought to be able to feel it -- the spill of hot seed in his innards -- and yet it was there, and he treasured it like a precious gift given to him, and him alone. And, in a strange, singular way, that was what it was.

"Uhn." A hard forehead came to rest against the back of his skull, the stiffness still buried deep inside his body pulsing, but already losing its rigidity. Gojyo whimpered as the fullness was withdrawn, the raw flesh circling his anal outlet pulled in an extended withdrawal before being left bereft.

Gojyo let out a long sigh of release and relief. As strange as it was, the entire encounter had made him feel less overheated, less overwhelmed by the summer afternoon. And that was just stupid, considering he was now swimming in a welter of sweat and sticky come. But that was the way it was, and he wasn't going to question it.

Bony hips flexed against his once, twice more, then withdrew. Gojyo rested against the floor, his entire body lax and boneless, his eyes closed with the delicious aftershocks of a really good fuck quivering through his body.

A whisper of movement and he was alone on the floor, the other sitting up, leaning against the side of the bed.

Gojyo finally rolled over, with only a slight wince, and cast a narrow scarlet gaze upon the passive face of his assaulter. "Ch'. You gotta smoke, bouzu?"

"Hn." Heavy, golden-lashed lids fell over violet eyes, and slim fingers moved to place a tightly-packed tobacco-stick, filter first, between Gojyo's full lips. The crimson-haired half-youkai waited passively for the blonde bombshell to light his own cigarette first, before lowering the burning lighter to ignite the end of his own cancer-stick.

Gojyo discovered that it wasn't too hot for a smoke after all, as he raised a heavy hand to pull the cigarette from between his lips, exhaling a plume of silver-grey smoke toward the ceiling.

"Sou. What brought you here, bouzu?" he questioned, eyelids sliding down so far he was in danger of slipping off to slumber after all.

"Hn." The deep grunt was almost as familiar as Hakkai's polite acquiescence, if not quite as welcome. "Well. Goku is occupied."

"And so is Hakkai. Na?" Gojyo queried, pulling the cigarette from between his lips. He gave himself lazy amusement by blowing smoke rings. He'd always had a talented mouth -- he'd been told so at many times during his life.

"Aa."

And that was all there was to it. And Gojyo didn't mind. Because if it meant good sex he was all over it. And that was all there was to that.

"They'll probably still be busy tomorrow too," he offered lazily.

"Aa."

A small smirk curved Gojyo's lips. "Well then," he said softly.

And that was really all there was to it.

And that was.....

~THE END!~