"Why the hell did I let you talk me into this?" he grumbled, voice muffled by a slightly squashed nose. He was seriously failing to see what was remotely hedonistic or romantic about any of this.

He got an angry push against his skull for the remark. "Just shut up and keep going!" the priest snapped up at him.

"God, fine," the kappa grumbled, taking a firmer hold of the priest's other, relaxed hip, and sped up the thrusts, who cared how much grief his back was going to give him in the morning.

Sanzo's foot backed and then cracked sharply against the bridge of his nose.

"Motherfucker!" Gojyo yelped, jerking back and clutching at his nose with a hand, eyes watering under the pain.

"Your angle's wrong and it's hurting, asshole. Are you gonna be a fucking incompetent all night?"

"But what the fuck was that for?!"

"For you screwing up, now shut up and get back to work, shithead!"

"FINE! Christ!" Gojyo ducked his head away from that menacing foot and shifted on his knees into something even more uncomfortable. But Sanzo made a failed effort to contain a pleased sigh so the kappa guessed he'd found something more agreeable. Even the foot landed back on his forehead a little more gently than before.

Feet. Goddamn. What the hell were those Indians thinking? This was actually hot to someone?

Well, Sanzo seemed to be enjoying it. Even if he curled his toes and dug uneven nails into Gojyo's skin and sweat worse than ever, the way he started to moan and squirm under him almost, just nearly made up for it. Okay, maybe made up for it. Especially when the monk removed one of his hands from the headboard and reached down to start stroking himself in time with Gojyo's thrusts, just turned everything a little red and hazy in the kappa's brain and he started going faster without thinking--

CRACK.

"OW! Goddammit, stop that!"