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It wasn't because he was forbidden fruit, though that definitely made things a little interesting. And it wasn't because he was cute, because you know better than anybody that he's the furthest from it, and he'd put a bullet in your head if you even thought so for a second. Hell, you're not even interested in guys, even one as beautiful as him. (And you do find him beautiful, much to your annoyance).
These things don't happen by design. He was irritated. You were horny. And maybe so was he, though it was hard to tell by the scowl on his face. What happened next was just the new twist of an old game, familiar but not really. An act of desperation, dirty...hot.
It's strange, the things you can do when every day is a fight for your life, and you have nothing else but each other to take it out on.
How it turned out like this, you don't quite remember, but you do remember this - the curve of his back as he turned away from you when it was over. He said nothing, but you knew he wasn't sleeping. Somehow though, the message was clear. It was visible in that stiff shoulder and in the angle of his hips that seemed to say in no uncertain terms that you were excused.
"Sanzo."
There was no answer, and it didn't come as a surprise, either.
You threw your clothes on haphazardly and left without another word. There's nothing easier than this, you thought to yourself. It's the kind of thing you have done countless times before with countless others, faceless women whose names you don't remember. Only somehow, the way the shadow falls against that cold sinewy shoulder doesn't seem to leave your head.
Maybe if you stayed long enough, you might have noticed something else. The way he avoided your gaze, though there was little he could betray in this light. The way his brows furrowed a little deeper when you stood up from the bed. But neither of you are good at this sort of thing, and you make do with what comes easiest.
There are no expectations, and that's how it should be. Attachments are useless, and you've already been down that dead end street before.
It becomes almost routine, and you're getting quite familiar with the way his back looks. Every so often, there's a slight variation, like the time you insisted on doing it outside.
"Are you fucking crazy? Not out here!"
It didn't take too much coaxing before he was the one grabbing your hair as you crushed your lips together. Still, you didn't even try to block the punch that came afterward, because somehow you knew you deserved it. In a way, it was easier to take than the usual dismissal.
--
You have your arms full, a wounded Hakkai on one shoulder, and an unconscious Goku tucked under the other. He walks past you, and you know he is leaving. After seeing the backside of him so many times before, it's become second nature to you. Each nuance, so clear.
I can get tired of lookin' at that damn ass, even one as fine as yours.
There's a bitter grin on your lips as you think - you're the one who tops him in bed, so why do you feel like the woman all the time?
And why is it that you don't object when the others decide to press on - to the west, to Sanzo?
Damn the west, damn the mission, and damn him. You'll track him down just to give him what for.
--
"Hey, I saved your sorry ass back there! Some gratitude might be nice."
"Did I ask you to come after me?"
"No! No you didn't, oh Holy One! I only found you in a pool of your own blood."
"I didn't need your help!"
"No? Well fuck you, fuck you very much!"
"The same to you!"
You yell at each other with the kind of vehemence that surprises both of you. Not that you ever got along nicely. At least you know to pick up right where you left off. Your bodies speak in the language you know best.
And when you're through, you're both so exhausted and spent that you do something that you've never done before - fall asleep together.
--
"..."
A low grunt and you blink open your eyes. How much time has passed, you could not say. Sanzo still sleeps, his head leaning heavily against your shoulder.
"Hey..." you murmur, sliding your fingers across his forehead to brush aside a golden lock. He stirs, but doesn't open his eyes.
As you stare down at his sleeping face, you wonder if the moonlight has bewitched your eyes, or whether Sanzo has always looked this peaceful, or this vulnerable.
He mumbles something in his dreams.
"Hm?" You lean in just a little to catch his words.
"...goddamn kappa..."
Your eyebrow twitches.
In the end, you lay back and throw your arm around his shoulder, feeling unusually satiated. And there's a ever slight grin on your lips as you answer softly-
"You're so not cute."