A small hint: This fic is not as simple as it seems to be.

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The bed on the other side of the room creaked again for the umpteenth time. The occupant was surely restless and that was a bit surprising. A reason as to why he could only tolerate the presence of the brunette during the nights as compared to the other two was because of the man’s – to put it simply – civilized sleeping manner. But now, he was seriously contemplating to group the brunette with the baka duo.

The bed creaked again and unconsciously, Sanzo knew Hakkai was lying on his back now. A headache was threatening him and he knew he would never be able to fall asleep if the problem persisted. Scowling angrily, the monk turned on his back and sat up, glancing sharply to his right. The pale illumination from the three-quarter full moon that streamed through the slightly ajar window enabled him to see somewhat clearly the restless creature.

"Sumimasen," the brunette apologized softly, as if sensing Sanzo’s heated stare upon him.

Sanzo cursed under his breath upon having his chance to berate seized. "What is the matter?" he demanded grudgingly instead.

A quiet sigh escaped Hakkai as he slowly sat up, resting then against the headboard. He began fanning himself with his hand. "It’s awfully hot tonight."

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. Hot? He gazed up to the ceiling fan, noting that it was spinning at a reasonable speed. "The fan’s working just fine. I don’t feel hot."

He heard the other sighing again, slightly heavier this time, and he shifted his attention. He watched as the brunette got off the bed and wordlessly headed towards one of the bags that contained the ikkou’s supply of towels, toiletries, first-aid kit and spare clothes. Hakkai then went down on one knee and after doing a fair bit of careful rummaging, pulled out some basic necessities that, as Sanzo saw it, were for bathing.

"You’re taking a bath at this time? Do you know it’s past midnight?" Sanzo could not help but questioned.

Hakkai turned to stand, cocking his head to one side, an almost absent-minded gesture. "It’s too hot. Ah, just go back to sleep, Sanzo. Daijobu, I’ll be quiet when I return."

The blonde merely grunted as his gaze followed Hakkai out of the room, the door closing softly after. He snorted once again and was about to ease back under the covers when he chanced to look at the undone bag. It was almost like a deliberate invitation, the need to straighten out the bag, and against his will, Sanzo found himself out of bed and towards the bag. Almost immediately he set to task, tucking in the bits and pieces that were in (mild) disarray. He was not that impeccable but he did not appreciate an eyesore either. His fingers clasped around something broad and rectangular, and Sanzo then recognized it as the soap case. Drawing it out, he opened the case and took a sniff, his brows knitted into a frown soon after.

Hakkai had taken the wrong soap.

The one in his hand was of a pine-and-lemon extract, a scent that was positively Hakkai’s. Since Goku and Gojyo had their own set of toiletries in their own room, it was therefore only logical that his soap, one that was of a mild musk, was with the brunette. It may not be such a big deal for most people but Sanzo had a fetish with his personal belongings – the kappa could personally account for that. And speaking of the kappa, God knows that the hentai would make something out of this innocent ‘wrong soap’ incident.

Without further ado, he straightened up and with the soap case in hand, began making his way out of the room and down the corridor to the far end where the bathroom was. He heard the soft lull of water rushing upon entering and without really looking, was easy to spot the cubicle Hakkai was in. The semi-transparent screen door was a dead give-away to the inhabitant within too, though not totally. Sanzo made his way to the said cubicle, noiselessly, and as he neared, his free hand was already poised to knock on the screen door.

The figure within made a move, stretching out a hand to what was presumably a hanging rack and took something off it. And moments later, Sanzo heard a sharp cluck of the tongue that was audible enough to be heard over the steady rush of water. And hand still poised, the blonde could only stand rooted to the ground, as if transfixed by the scene behind the screen. Meanwhile, Hakkai had turned off the shower and was talking to himself.

"Ara... I’ve got Sanzo’s soap. Maa, maa... he’s not going to be happy if he finds out."

And as Sanzo watched on, Hakkai reached for a towel, dried himself hastily before wrapping it around his waist and then turned towards the door. Seized by panic at being caught standing like an idiot with one hand hanging in mid-air, Sanzo forced himself to regain control of his body that was moments ago seemed to have been dunked by cement. He hastily took a few steps back, just in the nick of time as the screen door slid open, revealing a slender man who seemed to be glowing, the effect rendered from the soft overhead fluorescent lighting bouncing off the wet diaphanous glaze that coated the smooth, creamy skin. A pale yellow towel was wrapped low around the man’s hips, a barely modest cover-up, and the infamous scar that ran across the muscled abdomen was prominent, not at all in an ugly manner, but a rather charming appeal.

"S-sanzo?"

Much to his embarrassment, Sanzo found his head jerking up to look at the face whose body he was unconsciously gawking at belonged to. The once before fluff hairdo framed the chiseled face in a wet, longish drape, crystal drops sliding off the ends. One visible emerald glittered questioningly. He felt red warmth creeping up his neck, barely grazing his ears and cheeks. The other man was still staring at him, the initial shock slowly melting off the handsome face, but the question remained engraved.

"You took the wrong soap," Sanzo replied, his voice sounding rather hoarse to his own ears.

For a few moments, Hakkai just stood there, unblinking, till realization hit him. "Aa, yes," he blurted, nodding his head slightly. "I was just about to go back and get it. Aa, sumimasen ne, Sanzo, but rest assured that I’ve not used yours yet."

"Aa," was all the blonde could say.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them then, each strangely awkward in the other’s presence. But not wanting to make things more difficult, however that would be, Sanzo cleared his throat – a forced, breathy affair, and thereafter handed the brunette his soap. Hakkai hesitated for only a brief second, before accepting it. Their fingers brushed, warm against cool, generating an inevitable tingling current that still lingered even when Sanzo deftly pulled back, seemingly unrushed though his suddenly racing heart told another story. "I’m going back now," he informed in a brusque tone, almost challenging, though for what reason he was not too sure.

"Aa, of course," Hakkai conceded. Was it his imagination or did he just glimpsed a hint of suppressed mirth flashed briefly across the twin emeralds?

With his mission done and over with, Sanzo knew he had to get himself moving, and soon, unless he wanted to risk blushing like a schoolgirl, however ridiculous that might sound. Without another word, he turned abruptly on his heels and was promptly prepared to leave the brunette and the sudden, strange awkwardness from before behind. But he had barely moved a step when a quiet plea stopped him, and it was more out of utter disbelief and shock than anything else.

Slowly, the blonde turned, eyes narrowing as he did so. "What did you say?"

Hakkai had a half-smile playing on his lips. "I asked would you mind scrubbing my back? It’s been quite a while since I had my back last scrubbed."

Normally, back scrubbing would not have been such a big deal. Fact was the four of them had taken turns scrubbing each other’s a while ago when they had a brief stop-over at that spa resort. But then again, they had been four of them, in a public spa room nonetheless. The situation this time round was... well, sort of intimate, in the sense that they were only the two of them in a bathroom. No, make that in a cubicle.

"It’s alright if you don’t want to. I was just trying my luck, that is all," the mellifluous voice interrupted his reverie, and he frowned deeply, as if those words had just lashed him.

"I’m in my bodice and jeans," Sanzo informed as a matter-of-factly, again a foolish challenge in his voice.

Hakkai’s smile widened as he immediately gestured a hand towards the two waist-high cabinets located at one corner of the room. "There are towels there," he offered cheerfully, a bit too cheerful in Sanzo’s opinion.

Ten minutes later Sanzo was standing in the cubicle Hakkai was in, stripped to nothing with only the white towel around his waist as his saving grace. Two wooden stools as well as a pail of water filled to the brim were also sharing the same limited space. Sanzo had left the screen door slightly ajar, arguing it was somewhat cramped and it seemed as if the brunette had no objection to it as well. If any, the man’s face was showing mild amusement and Sanzo was beginning to feel rather ridiculous. Nonetheless he seated himself on one of the wooden stools and Hakkai immediately followed suit, and now Sanzo was finding himself facing a back view that was as equally beguiling as the front one.

It was a flawless sight, lean but no doubt powerful muscles stretching firm under the skin that looked contradictorily soft. Sanzo did not realize just how broad the brunette’s shoulders were and how finely they tapered to the slim waist. And he suddenly had the urge to smooth the wet strands that curled in a maddening fashion just below the long neck, thereafter running his fingers down the two perfect arches of those sharp shoulder blades. Realizing the dangerous turn his mind was about to turn to, Sanzo quickly regained control, hurriedly dipping a small towel into the pail and lathering it with soap – the pine-and-lemon scented one, of course.

He decided to begin the first stroke down the middle. Positioning the cloth just below the hairline, his fingers lightly grazed the wet, dark strands he had wanted to feel. He could have smoothed them had Hakkai not instinctively bent his neck forward. Startled by the strange impulse, Sanzo mentally swore and proceeded to run the soap-lathered cloth down the brunette’s back, deliberate in both strength and pace. The mild sweet scent of the soap exploded upon contact with the skin, stimulating a delicious whiff that was with the brunette’s natural muskiness. Against his will Sanzo leaned forward, drowning his senses for a moment in that lingering fragrance, before pulling back and observing the trail of soapy, faint crimson that had resulted. Almost reluctantly he turned to rinse the cloth, which had not much residue upon it. He lathered the cloth again and repeated his previous action on the right flank. Sanzo found himself using only one hand this time to run the cloth down while his other settled rather comfortably upon Hakkai’s left shoulder, as if to gain leverage, but he could not help but feel the strength in it, the tautness, the softness.

Was it his imagination or did Hakkai just shuddered?

The left flank done with and the cloth rinsed out a while later, Sanzo wet the cloth once again and gently smoothed it over the soapy back before him with the ease of the finest silk. Over and over again till what remained was a lustrous pale pinkish aura. As he ended the last stroke with a slight flourish, Sanzo watched in silence the man before him stirred, the dark head cocking from one side to the other, those broad shoulders flexing languidly. Hakkai continued by hunching his body forward, stretching his back taut, then slowly straightened and contracting the muscles. Altogether a rather sensuous act, in Sanzo’s eyes.

"Domo arigato, Sanzo..."

His polluted trance disturbed, Sanzo could only emit a low grunt, his throat strangely dry. With nothing else to serve as an excuse to remain seated, the blonde grudgingly got up, masking his reluctance carefully as Hakkai, too, stood up and turned round to face him. He lifted his gaze to meet the brunette’s, only to have his eyes widened and a strangled cry of surprise escaped him when Hakkai suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between them till he had to suck in the last drop of air possible, and out of the corners of his eyes saw one hand skimming past his bare arm, its destination unknown.

A protest was on the edge of Sanzo’s tongue but before he had the chance to let it fall, he heard a strangely familiar scraping sound and then the air that was cut off from him moments ago miraculously restored. He was left standing like an idiot, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, while the other man cocked his head questioningly.

"Daijobu desu ka, Sanzo?" Hakkai asked, earnest in every sense possible.

Sanzo said nothing, merely clamped his mouth shut and frowned deeply. Hakkai did not budge from his bewildered stance and there was nothing upon his face or body language that suggested hilarity. Accounting his ridiculous state of mind for the lack of sleep, Sanzo eased his frown slightly and in the calmest tone possible, said, "I’m going back now."

The brunette still looked perplexed but he did not pursue whatever it was that was disturbing the monk. "Aa, of course. Domo arigato."

Holding on to the last shred of his sanity, Sanzo swiftly whirled round, the screen door that had been fully pulled back welcoming his retreat. As he was about to step out of the cubicle, a hand clasped down gently upon his bare shoulder and almost instantaneously a surge of current passed through him.

"You forgot your soap, Sanzo."

He could not possibly turn, not when he could feel fire on his face, not when that damned hand still lingered. With much difficulty he summoned his voice, but was left ashamed when no sound came forth. Swallowing hard and clearing his throat with minimal vibration possible, he tried again. "Bring it back with you later," he said stiffly, with a silent command accompanying it.

Hint taken, the brunette removed his hand. "Hai. Oyasumi nasai, Sanzo..."

Suppressing the urge to just bolt, Sanzo carefully walked out of the cubicle and after retrieving his clothes, exited the bathroom, not bothering to change back. It was probably two or three in the morning so there was little risk of being caught in his less than presentable attire. Besides, there was no way he would spent another second in that bathroom alone with that brunette.

Because if he did, no amount of soap on earth would be enough to keep him out of the bathroom.