| Wedded Bliss |
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Fucking moron. Gojyo winced and wiped the blood from his split lip off his chin. Stupid, fucking moron. He had it coming to him, with that crack about him and Hakkai and two-point-whatever kids and a dog. Gojyo was not married, dammit – even if he never went home with girls any more and spent most nights with Hakkai, it didn’t mean he’d gone and decided to be monogamous. He could pick up a girl any time he wanted. Besides, wives were supposed to wear aprons and shit, weren’t they? In an everyday sort of sense, not in the I’m-only-wearing-an-apron-Gojyo-let’s-tr And what the fuck was up with that bit about the kids? The closest Gojyo would ever voluntarily get to a kid was that stupid monkey. Not like Taro had room to talk. Married sixteen years with a fifteen year old kid who was the grumpiest little sod Gojyo had ever met, and that hyperactive dog that never stopped barking and was always crashing into things— Approaching the house he shared with Hakkai, Gojyo noticed an unusually large amount of noise. Narrowing his eyes, he listened harder – that was something being knocked over (probably the hat stand Hakkai had been given as a joke, never did know what to do with the fucking thing), that was something hitting flesh, that was the monkey whining, “Sanzooooooooo. . . .” Oh. Gojyo grinned, then winced as that pulled on his split lip. Sauntering up the path, he pulled open the front door – and nearly died laughing. Sanzo was sporting a large piece of cake on his head, part of which had fallen down the side of his face and onto his shoulder – most likely because he was beating the ever-loving crap out of Goku with the fan. Goku had both arms over his head and what looked to be half this week’s laundry draped on various limbs, while Hakkai was standing in a corner looking distressed, and— Wearing an apron. That stopped Gojyo dead. “Fucking hell,” he said. Then he ducked as Sanzo threw the fan at him and went for his gun. |
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