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Sanzo felt like a complete fool as he approached the building. How he'd ever let Gojyo talk him into this was beyond him, and he wondered why he hadn't simply told him to fuck off. Or better yet, shot him. Then he remembered; it had involved Hakkai...
"I'm thinking of taking Hakkai out for his birthday," Gojyo said casually as he leaned forward to crush out his butt in the ashtray on Sanzo's desk.
Sanzo's eyes narrowed slightly. "You should think again."
Gojyo laughed. "God, jealous much? Look, Your Holiness -" He paused to grin at the slight eye twitch. "I don't know what the hell thoughts there are in that head of yours, and frankly, I don't think I want to. But get this straight - there's nothing going on between Hakkai an' me. Although, they might be interesting to hear; I bet you're not as vanilla as you let on." He moved out of the way to dodge the bullet, and shaking his head, he sighed in exasperation. "Look, man, I'm taking Hakkai to the discothèque on Friday night. We used to go all the time when we were roommates. I thought he might appreciate a bit of nostalgia, y'know? As for you - well, you can come if you want to or you can sit here in denial. Your choice."
Sanzo scowled deeply, his jaw clenched tightly. Dancing. It had to be dancing, he thought to himself, though when he saw Gojyo stand up to leave, his gaze shifted from staring stonily at his desktop to his 'friend'. "Gojyo, wait. I...don't know how to dance. Not for a disco."
Gojyo smirked. "You'll do fine. There're no rules. Just listen to the music and the rhythm'll guide you." He swung his hips in a slow, lazy circle, ending with a slight thrust forward with his groin. "Sort of like sex, yeah?"
Sanzo made a sour face. "Get the fuck out of my office, you perverted letch."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. I'll call you with the details."
Sanzo ignored the whistles and catcalls as he entered the club, and he was glad that in his current state of dress it was highly unlikely that anyone would recognize him. As he looked around, he debated cutting his losses and leaving - this place was nothing like what he had expected. Granted, it was dark inside, and there were flashing lights and heavy thumping music, but from the research he'd done, he hadn't expected it to be so loud, or so busy, or so full of scantily-clad people. He looked down at his own outfit, a black silk shirt and white suit, and realized he was completely out of his element. He reached for the door handle, mentally telling himself he'd acknowledge Hakkai's birthday the next day by going to visit and having a cup of tea. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, and from the whiff of whore-lure that assaulted his nostrils, he knew it was Gojyo. "Shit..."
"Wow, you went retro! Still, it suits you. I've been keeping an eye for you. Wasn't sure if you'd come. Honestly, I thought you'd puss out." Gojyo grinned. "Though, if I hadn't stopped you, looks like you were gonna. Come on; Hakkai's on the dance floor." With that, he spun Sanzo around and began to steer him deeper into the throng of people.
"Let me go, you stupid kappa, or I swear to fuck I'm going to kill you."
"Yeah, I'm sure you will," Gojyo replied with a bored drawl. "Why don't you at least dance with Hakkai first? I mean, you went to all the trouble of dressing up and coming here - and it is his birthday." Not giving Sanzo a chance to reply, he gave him a slight push and then turned his attention to chatting up an attractive redhead who was dancing next to him.
Sanzo swore inwardly as he stumbled a couple of paces before he caught his balance, but not before he'd bumped into the dark-haired man dancing in front of him. Gruffly, he muttered, "Sorry, I - Hakkai?" He recognized the other the second he saw the brilliant green eyes, and he was sure his mouth was hanging open as he stared at him. Sanzo had never really seen Hakkai in anything but his typically conservative style of dress, mostly because he'd never had reason to. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the slightly tailored and untucked black silk shirt and the form-fitting black leather trousers.
Hakkai grinned warmly at him even as he continued to dance. "Hello, Sanzo. You're looking rather smart this evening."
Sanzo was fairly sure the comment was complimentary, but Hakkai was known for being a wise-ass, too so he didn't reply. "Gojyo told me he was bringing you here, and invited me. I...watched a couple of movies to get an idea of what I was getting into."
Hakkai's grin widened. "Let me guess. Saturday Night Fever? It's one of my favourites."
"Yeah." He looked away. "Goku 'borrowed' it from your collection."
"Ah, that explains your resemblance to John Travolta - or should I call you Tony?" Hakkai chuckled as he wordlessly guided Sanzo on where to put his hands so they could dance. "More importantly, does that make me Annette or Stephanie?"
Sanzo could feel his cheeks heat slightly. "Don't be stupid. You're not a woman." He was acutely aware of the firm male musculature that rested beneath his hands.
"Semantics," Hakkai replied, and his eyes closed slightly as he gave Sanzo a deceptively coy look - one often reserved for when he was playing. "So, are you looking for a dance partner?"
Sanzo snorted in amusement before his expression turned serious. "No. I'm looking for something completely different. There's only one reason why I'd ever come in here while wearing something so utterly ridiculous."
Hakkai smiled softly, his gaze appreciative. "Honestly? I don't think it's so bad, really."