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Suprise sesame rice balls
We made sushi today! Including surprise sesame rice balls. ^______^ Then we had wine and watched LotR: RotK, disc one. All in all, a lazy Saturday. Yay for those!
The curtains were pulled aside, allowing the clear morning light into the room.
“Goku!” A female figure dressed in a fancy bathrobe loomed over Goku’s sleeping form. She was carrying a tray, which she set on the bedside table, before crawling onto the bed.
Goku turned when the mattress dipped under her weight and muttered something. Not fazed in the slightest, the girl shaking his arm leaned further. “Kanzeon is calling for you. She says it is urgent.”
That managed to wake him up. “What does she want?”
“She didn’t say.” The girl sat on the bed, arranging the bathrobe around her shapely legs and handed Goku one of the cups she brought. He took it gratefully. The coffee was hot, but not too hot, and full of milk, just the way he liked it.
“Hey Penny. What’s gotten you so excited?” he asked, taking a sip of the coffee. Urgent news, in Kanzeon’s mouth, usually meant there was enough time for a morning cup of coffee and a hurried chat.
“Kanzeon said she’s had offers for me. I’ll be having my first client in about a week.”
“That’s great! Do you know who?”
“Lord Homura.”
Goku fell silent. “Wow. Kanzeon sure throws you in at the deep end.”
“What? Why?”
“What, you want me to spoil the surprise?” Goku grinned wickedly.
“You bastard!” Penny grabbed a pillow and smacked him heartily. Goku, still laughing, put his cup aside and tackled the girl, trapping her hands against her sides. “You should get dressed and go see Kanzeon,” she said, when the giggles subsided.
Goku undid the clasp that held Penny’s bathrobe closed at the cleavage. “Don’t fasten that, unless you’re cold.” He leaned in for a kiss then climbed off the bed. “I’ll see you later!” he called, fumbling with his own robe.
Penny waved him off, before picking up a book and settling on her bed. She was lucky to have Goku as her mentor. He wasn’t the most sought after companion in the house, by either clients or novices, but to the orphans like herself he embodied everything the life had to offer – comfort, security, friends in high places and a family, such as it was. For goodness sake, one of the country’s chief diplomats took Goku along for a state visit to several of the most important states. So, even if the idea of Goku as anyone’s mentor was laughable, as he lacked the white beard and wrinkly wisdom of the ages, he made sex a joy. And that summed up all the skills a companion needed to possess.
Meanwhile, Goku made his way downstairs, yawning on every landing. The Companion’s House in the capitol was a home to over forty companions and ten to fifteen novices, like Penelope – boys and girls just short of their majority, who were therefore not yet introduced as official companions. There was a lot of space to cover, if one wanted to reach the matron’s office.
“Kanzeon? You wanted to see me?” Goku knocked and entered the spacious office. Kanzeon never understood the idea of desks. She, much like the Queen, preferred to work from her seat, which very closely resembled a throne, or standing against a table.
She was sitting this time, with a selection of papers spread across her lap. She held out a hand with a letter without a word. Goku took the small envelope, which bore his name, broke the seal and started to read. It didn’t take long. He blinked and read the letter again. “I’m expecting you in my mansion at noon. Signed, Genjo Sanzo,” he said aloud.
Kanzeon raised a brow. “Was this a summary?”
“No, a direct quote.”
“Extra five percent for impolite invitation,” Kannon said brightly, making a little note on a piece of paper. “That’ll teach him.”
Goku laughed and shook his head. “Oh, don’t be like that.”
The woman awarded him with a long look. “Are you going?”
“Sure.”
The brows rose higher. “I recall you had the day off.”
“Well yeah.” Goku paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Do you think I shouldn’t?”
“No, by all means. Go ahead.” Kanzeon watched Goku beam at her and open the door. “I’ll send him the bill later, with notes on how to request for a companion properly.”
There was the merest hint of hesitation in Goku’s posture. Kanzeon regarded him carefully. “He’s a client, sweetheart. Granted, not one we deal with much,” she amended raising a sheet of paper and inspecting it carefully, “but a client all the same.”
“I know.”
The doors closed. Kanzeon listened for the soft steps walking away from her office. She shook her head fondly. Although she didn’t work herself these days, she knew most of the aristocracy quite well. It was a part of her job, scrutinising the clients. Sanzo, in her expert opinion, could use Goku’s company. It wasn’t like the money was an object.
xxx.XXX.xxx
Sanzo lived a short distance away from the city. Fitting, for the antisocial general he was. Goku spend the ride staring out the window. There was no official function that evening, not that he knew. Which meant they’d most likely be alone, since accusing Sanzo of having friends over was preposterous, at best. Goku smiled at the surroundings.
Sanzo failed to greet him at the door, but Goku suspected Sanzo bothered for no one. He was in no way offended when the butler offered to take his outer clothing and led him to a spacious training hall. There Goku got his greeting, in the form of a blunt end of a stick coming at his face with considerable speed. Instinctively he thrust his arm up and blocked the swing. The dull thump the accompanied the contact was unpleasant, doubly so for Goku. “Ouch! That hurt!”
“You own fault for being a moron and trying to block a staff with your arm. If I was hitting any harder I’d have broken it,” Sanzo said taking a step back. He was staring at Goku in a way that, for once, had the companion confused and a little frightened.
“If I’d know you were trying to kill me, I wouldn’t have tried,” he said, shaking his head. Sanzo wouldn’t kill him. He knew that much, like he knew the sun would always rise.
“That’s exactly the attitude that will get you killed. Fighting is not a ballet. Fighting is about getting people killed.” Sanzo looked away and threw his staff at Goku. The companion caught it reflexively, weighing it in his hand. “I’m not going to hold back,” Sanzo added picking up another staff.
“Fine, fine, just let me get out of these clothes.” Goku already felt a grin forming on his face, worries forgotten. This was going to be fun! He discarded his jacket and shoes, to match Sanzo’s attire, dropping it on handy shelf with a number of age-worn swords. Then he picked up the staff and whirled it in the air.
Sanzo watched the ease with which the weapon was handled and smirked. “Come on,” he muttered, his mouth barely moving.
Goku attacked, faster than Sanzo expected. Seems there was no holding back for either of them. For a long time the only sound to fill the spacious hall was the clash of wood against wood, accompanied by the soft taps of bare feet on training mats and the occasional yell.
The staffs connected, neither willing to give. They were shaking, both of them, and breathing hard. Sanzo smirked despite the weariness and brought his knee up sharply. Goku fell back, rolling and landing in a crouch a short distance away. Sanzo followed through with a vicious swipe of his staff. Goku, once again, blocked it with his hand, thrusting the staff held in the other into Sanzo’s hip.
The pause was so short, it was barely there. Goku’s arm hurt like crazy. He winced blocking another of Sanzo’s vicious blows. Nothing was broken, at least he didn’t think it was, but it hurt. Goku narrowed his eyes and glared at Sanzo. Luckily, the man didn’t seem to fare much better. He was limping and his right side was reacting visibly slower than his left.
Either way, they were going to drop to the floor any second now. Goku allowed himself a moment’s consideration and let go of the staff. Sanzo raised a brow triumphantly, but lowered his hands. Goku grinned and let the weapon bounce off his foot and up, into Sanzo’s face. A sharp jab to the man’s wrist made him release his own weapon and hiss. Goku dropped into a crouch and lashed out at Sanzo’s ankles. He was too tired to manage a proper swipe, but Sanzo was too tired to manage a proper avoidance – in an attempt to avoid the kick he tripped and landed heavily on his back.
Seeing that Sanzo was in no hurry to move, Goku crawled over him and smiled, hovering on his hands and knees. “I won.”
“Only because I was too tired.”
“I still won.” Goku rested his forehead against Sanzo’s collarbone and breathed. He could feel Sanzo’s hands travel up his arms, pressing hard enough to hurt.
“Doesn’t seem to be broken,” he said, letting his fingers trail higher.
“Kanzeon would have your head if you broke my arm.” Goku’s fingers traced the edge of Sanzo’s open shirt. “She still might, mind you. That’s going to be bruised for at least a week.”
“Shut up,” Sanzo muttered.
Goku laughed against the pale sweaty skin, but the laughter died down when he felt Sanzo’s hands cradle his face. He knew he should have expected it. People didn’t ask for him to talk, not usually anyway. Of course, it wasn’t normal for clients to try and kill him either, but with Sanzo nothing was exactly normal.
Goku let Sanzo turn them over, and used the opportunity to wrap his arms around his neck. The floor was hard against his aching back, but Sanzo’s hot lips and laboured breath against his mouth was enough of a distraction. He closed his eyes and allowed the reality to dissipate.
The curtains were pulled aside, allowing the clear morning light into the room.
“Goku!” A female figure dressed in a fancy bathrobe loomed over Goku’s sleeping form. She was carrying a tray, which she set on the bedside table, before crawling onto the bed.
Goku turned when the mattress dipped under her weight and muttered something. Not fazed in the slightest, the girl shaking his arm leaned further. “Kanzeon is calling for you. She says it is urgent.”
That managed to wake him up. “What does she want?”
“She didn’t say.” The girl sat on the bed, arranging the bathrobe around her shapely legs and handed Goku one of the cups she brought. He took it gratefully. The coffee was hot, but not too hot, and full of milk, just the way he liked it.
“Hey Penny. What’s gotten you so excited?” he asked, taking a sip of the coffee. Urgent news, in Kanzeon’s mouth, usually meant there was enough time for a morning cup of coffee and a hurried chat.
“Kanzeon said she’s had offers for me. I’ll be having my first client in about a week.”
“That’s great! Do you know who?”
“Lord Homura.”
Goku fell silent. “Wow. Kanzeon sure throws you in at the deep end.”
“What? Why?”
“What, you want me to spoil the surprise?” Goku grinned wickedly.
“You bastard!” Penny grabbed a pillow and smacked him heartily. Goku, still laughing, put his cup aside and tackled the girl, trapping her hands against her sides. “You should get dressed and go see Kanzeon,” she said, when the giggles subsided.
Goku undid the clasp that held Penny’s bathrobe closed at the cleavage. “Don’t fasten that, unless you’re cold.” He leaned in for a kiss then climbed off the bed. “I’ll see you later!” he called, fumbling with his own robe.
Penny waved him off, before picking up a book and settling on her bed. She was lucky to have Goku as her mentor. He wasn’t the most sought after companion in the house, by either clients or novices, but to the orphans like herself he embodied everything the life had to offer – comfort, security, friends in high places and a family, such as it was. For goodness sake, one of the country’s chief diplomats took Goku along for a state visit to several of the most important states. So, even if the idea of Goku as anyone’s mentor was laughable, as he lacked the white beard and wrinkly wisdom of the ages, he made sex a joy. And that summed up all the skills a companion needed to possess.
Meanwhile, Goku made his way downstairs, yawning on every landing. The Companion’s House in the capitol was a home to over forty companions and ten to fifteen novices, like Penelope – boys and girls just short of their majority, who were therefore not yet introduced as official companions. There was a lot of space to cover, if one wanted to reach the matron’s office.
“Kanzeon? You wanted to see me?” Goku knocked and entered the spacious office. Kanzeon never understood the idea of desks. She, much like the Queen, preferred to work from her seat, which very closely resembled a throne, or standing against a table.
She was sitting this time, with a selection of papers spread across her lap. She held out a hand with a letter without a word. Goku took the small envelope, which bore his name, broke the seal and started to read. It didn’t take long. He blinked and read the letter again. “I’m expecting you in my mansion at noon. Signed, Genjo Sanzo,” he said aloud.
Kanzeon raised a brow. “Was this a summary?”
“No, a direct quote.”
“Extra five percent for impolite invitation,” Kannon said brightly, making a little note on a piece of paper. “That’ll teach him.”
Goku laughed and shook his head. “Oh, don’t be like that.”
The woman awarded him with a long look. “Are you going?”
“Sure.”
The brows rose higher. “I recall you had the day off.”
“Well yeah.” Goku paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Do you think I shouldn’t?”
“No, by all means. Go ahead.” Kanzeon watched Goku beam at her and open the door. “I’ll send him the bill later, with notes on how to request for a companion properly.”
There was the merest hint of hesitation in Goku’s posture. Kanzeon regarded him carefully. “He’s a client, sweetheart. Granted, not one we deal with much,” she amended raising a sheet of paper and inspecting it carefully, “but a client all the same.”
“I know.”
The doors closed. Kanzeon listened for the soft steps walking away from her office. She shook her head fondly. Although she didn’t work herself these days, she knew most of the aristocracy quite well. It was a part of her job, scrutinising the clients. Sanzo, in her expert opinion, could use Goku’s company. It wasn’t like the money was an object.
xxx.XXX.xxx
Sanzo lived a short distance away from the city. Fitting, for the antisocial general he was. Goku spend the ride staring out the window. There was no official function that evening, not that he knew. Which meant they’d most likely be alone, since accusing Sanzo of having friends over was preposterous, at best. Goku smiled at the surroundings.
Sanzo failed to greet him at the door, but Goku suspected Sanzo bothered for no one. He was in no way offended when the butler offered to take his outer clothing and led him to a spacious training hall. There Goku got his greeting, in the form of a blunt end of a stick coming at his face with considerable speed. Instinctively he thrust his arm up and blocked the swing. The dull thump the accompanied the contact was unpleasant, doubly so for Goku. “Ouch! That hurt!”
“You own fault for being a moron and trying to block a staff with your arm. If I was hitting any harder I’d have broken it,” Sanzo said taking a step back. He was staring at Goku in a way that, for once, had the companion confused and a little frightened.
“If I’d know you were trying to kill me, I wouldn’t have tried,” he said, shaking his head. Sanzo wouldn’t kill him. He knew that much, like he knew the sun would always rise.
“That’s exactly the attitude that will get you killed. Fighting is not a ballet. Fighting is about getting people killed.” Sanzo looked away and threw his staff at Goku. The companion caught it reflexively, weighing it in his hand. “I’m not going to hold back,” Sanzo added picking up another staff.
“Fine, fine, just let me get out of these clothes.” Goku already felt a grin forming on his face, worries forgotten. This was going to be fun! He discarded his jacket and shoes, to match Sanzo’s attire, dropping it on handy shelf with a number of age-worn swords. Then he picked up the staff and whirled it in the air.
Sanzo watched the ease with which the weapon was handled and smirked. “Come on,” he muttered, his mouth barely moving.
Goku attacked, faster than Sanzo expected. Seems there was no holding back for either of them. For a long time the only sound to fill the spacious hall was the clash of wood against wood, accompanied by the soft taps of bare feet on training mats and the occasional yell.
The staffs connected, neither willing to give. They were shaking, both of them, and breathing hard. Sanzo smirked despite the weariness and brought his knee up sharply. Goku fell back, rolling and landing in a crouch a short distance away. Sanzo followed through with a vicious swipe of his staff. Goku, once again, blocked it with his hand, thrusting the staff held in the other into Sanzo’s hip.
The pause was so short, it was barely there. Goku’s arm hurt like crazy. He winced blocking another of Sanzo’s vicious blows. Nothing was broken, at least he didn’t think it was, but it hurt. Goku narrowed his eyes and glared at Sanzo. Luckily, the man didn’t seem to fare much better. He was limping and his right side was reacting visibly slower than his left.
Either way, they were going to drop to the floor any second now. Goku allowed himself a moment’s consideration and let go of the staff. Sanzo raised a brow triumphantly, but lowered his hands. Goku grinned and let the weapon bounce off his foot and up, into Sanzo’s face. A sharp jab to the man’s wrist made him release his own weapon and hiss. Goku dropped into a crouch and lashed out at Sanzo’s ankles. He was too tired to manage a proper swipe, but Sanzo was too tired to manage a proper avoidance – in an attempt to avoid the kick he tripped and landed heavily on his back.
Seeing that Sanzo was in no hurry to move, Goku crawled over him and smiled, hovering on his hands and knees. “I won.”
“Only because I was too tired.”
“I still won.” Goku rested his forehead against Sanzo’s collarbone and breathed. He could feel Sanzo’s hands travel up his arms, pressing hard enough to hurt.
“Doesn’t seem to be broken,” he said, letting his fingers trail higher.
“Kanzeon would have your head if you broke my arm.” Goku’s fingers traced the edge of Sanzo’s open shirt. “She still might, mind you. That’s going to be bruised for at least a week.”
“Shut up,” Sanzo muttered.
Goku laughed against the pale sweaty skin, but the laughter died down when he felt Sanzo’s hands cradle his face. He knew he should have expected it. People didn’t ask for him to talk, not usually anyway. Of course, it wasn’t normal for clients to try and kill him either, but with Sanzo nothing was exactly normal.
Goku let Sanzo turn them over, and used the opportunity to wrap his arms around his neck. The floor was hard against his aching back, but Sanzo’s hot lips and laboured breath against his mouth was enough of a distraction. He closed his eyes and allowed the reality to dissipate.
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but also, isnt it a hint that sanzo's getting attached as well =
requesting a companion? sanzo?
hmmmmmmmm****
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Oil wrestling. Now there's a thought. :D
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Did you see the Turkish oil wrestling on Michael Palin's New Europe? Fantastically slashy!
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I've heard of it, but didn't watch. Slashy, you say?
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Indeed! I'd love to have a go at making sushi myself one day *yum*!
P.S. I'm still loving the fic ^_~!
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Heee! I'm glad. *beams*
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I also liked how Goku sounded disappointed when Sanzo went right to the sex rather than talking some more. I think that's a huge clue to his changing attitude regarding Sanzo.
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Hmmm I guess he does :) That's where he actually has to go and be social.