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Hakkai shook his head at the irony as he watched Gojyo and Sanzo leave—the fact that thin sticks of nicotine could dictate the actions of the two men who prided themselves on their strength and independence never ceased to amaze him.
Sick of the smell of cigarette smoke, Hakkai had declared that if Gojyo and Sanzo wanted to smoke, they would have to do it outside. Despite the frigid temperature, both men had succumbed to the siren song of the cigarettes. Gojyo had broken first, grabbing his smokes and heading for the stairs with Sanzo just a few steps behind him.
The two men hurried down the flights of steep stairs and into the inn’s courtyard, stopping just out the door to lean against the wall of the building. Sanzo quickly lit his cigarette, stuffing his hand back into his robe to keep it warm. “It’s fucking freezing,” he grumbled, his misty breath mingling with the smoke from his cigarette.
Gojyo grunted in agreement, rummaging around in his pockets for his lighter. “Shit,” he cursed lowly, coming up empty. “Lend me your lighter,” he demanded of Sanzo.
Sanzo looked at him with spiteful amusement in his eyes. “Not a chance,” he replied, exhaling smoke and letting his eyes drop closed as he rested his head back against the brick wall. He folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to stay warm.
“C’mon, Sanzo,” Gojyo prodded impatiently, extending his hand, palm up.
“No,” the priest responded around the cigarette, not opening his eyes. Gojyo rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the blond man, his hand darting out to try and grab the other’s lighter. Sanzo grabbed Gojyo’s hand before he could connect, opening his eyes to small slits. He kicked out at Gojyo, who moved closer and pinned him against the wall, pressing against him so that he couldn’t kick him. Sanzo opened his eyes fully at this and sneered at Gojyo.
“Fine, don’t lend me your lighter,” Gojyo hissed, annoyed. “I’ll just do this.” With his free hand Gojyo grabbed Sanzo’s chin, holding Sanzo’s head still as he brought the tip of his cigarette to the tip of Sanzo’s. Gojyo watched as sparks flew, exhaling in satisfaction when his own death-stick lit.
“Get off,” Sanzo snapped, the glow of the cigarettes reflected in his violet eyes. Gojyo realized with a jolt that not only had he stayed pressed against Sanzo after lighting his cigarette, but that his hand had drifted down to idly stroke Sanzo’s neck.
Gojyo coughed as he stepped away to cover his momentary embarrassment. He flashed Sanzo a grin. “Just figured it’d be warmer sharing body heat, Sanzo-sama,” he said, adding the nickname in a mocking singsong. He jammed his hand into his jacket pocket, telling himself that the sudden chill was the only reason that his fingers were tingling like crazy.