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What kind of couple makes out during this kind of song?
That was the question Gintoki was currently pondering with both a reasonable amount of bitterness and completely impartial judgment.
The young woman’s voice continued to croon above the crowd. She was singing to her audience on the second floor of an upscale restaurant, but the space was on the smaller side. The stage was just wide enough to fit her and three others on instruments. There were wide, open windows at the back of the room and along the left wall, where a bar was also installed. Billowy curtains occasionally flapped aggressively in the wind, but no one seemed to notice, except Gintoki, who couldn’t keep his eyes from darting to the side each time it happened and on the whole, had a very bad feeling about this night.
“When you left me," she continued, resent and sorrow clinging to her words, “was when I needed you most…”
He sipped his drink and tried to ignore the man in front of him trying to eat his girlfriend’s face off. He was decidedly not drunk enough for this, and he wasn’t headed that way, either, not at this venue. This was only his second drink, overpriced and underpoured, and now he wasn’t buying groceries for at least a week—unless he hit it big at pachinko tomorrow. Since that guy wasn’t coming over anymore, there were no more surprise take-out containers or provisions from the convenience store mysteriously appearing in the fridge. He kept waiting for Shinpachi to get the hint and pick up the slack, but so far Shinpachi had said nothing and only appeared mildly puzzled, like it hadn’t even occurred to him that one day all these recent nice things might meet their end. There was no way in hell Gintoki was going to humiliate himself further by spelling it out for the kids.
He was briefly visited by a haunting vision of a buffet, where he would have a stuffed wallet and a private room, and there would be plenty of desserts and other things; enough for his spawn, too, so Kagura wouldn’t subject him to her starving orphan dramatics for at least a day, and there would even be a big bowl of whipped cream, perfect for strawberry-dipping, only it was a little yellow...? and someone was reaching over with a spoon—and it was actually mayonnaise??
Gintoki made a noise of appropriate disgust, but the couple rudely ignored him. Who invited that guy to Gintoki’s fantasy buffet? He shook his head to clear the image. No more distractions. He just had to finish this job; he could worry about the other stuff later.
In front of him, the girl-half of the most obnoxiously horny couple he’d had the misfortune of encountering launched a vigorous counter-attack of the face-eating variety. Hands were on the move where hands should not be moving. A noise between them slipped into the music, impossible for Gintoki’s ears to escape but probably unheard by any of the lucky bastards near the front.
Then came another noise, more aggressive. Gintoki frowned. Almost like a…growl? Fuck, what was wrong with these freaks? First they shamelessly flaunt their happy, fulfilling relationship in the middle of a break-up ballad for people who might currently be feeling a little sensitive about the topic of love, and now they’re growling at each other?
Gintoki had to bite his tongue to keep himself from shouting at them. On paper, this had sounded like such an easy job. He couldn’t blow it. He tried to casually put some distance between them instead. Left and right were packed tight with swaying bodies, so he edged backward.
A sharp yelp caught his attention. Gintoki’s eyes were helplessly pulled back to the couple. They had finally broken apart and the girl was hopping on one foot, glaring at the guy. As Gintoki watched, she drove a fist into his side. He choked a little, returning her glare, and just when Gintoki thought he was going to have to break up this little spat—with absolutely no smugness about their relationship falling apart—the guy threw himself back at the girl, who met him with equal force. Their lips smashed together violently. Those groping hands now looked more like they were searching for a weakness to exploit.
Gintoki’s excitement fizzled out. Well…fighting and fucking was a thin line and all that. He’d had something of his own like that, not so long ago. He resolved to ignore the public nuisance and threw himself back into the maudlin, self-pitying lyrics with a new vigor.
But a moment later, one of the curtains at the back kicked up with a gust of wind and cast a wide swathe of moonlight over part of the crowd. Gintoki watched, dumbstruck, as he recognized the girl in front of him as no one else but his primary financial burden.
And the guy—Gintoki literally could not believe it. Yes, fighting and fucking—but Okita-kun?? Gintoki half-wanted to flee the scene and get some cheap alcohol to erase this whole night and half-wanted to rip those perverted Shinsengumi hands off his precious, disturbed Kagura-chan.
He opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure what was going to come out, but his tongue could no longer be held back. It was loud around them; the band wouldn’t notice if he indulged a little outburst. Right? Right?
“You won’t face me in the crowd / Are you afraid to see the blood you spilled?”
Someone grabbed him from behind. A hand slapped over his mouth, and the other gripped Gintoki’s waist and urged him to move backward. A thumb rubbed over his hipbone, like the absurd little gesture was supposed to reassure him.
Unfortunately for Gintoki, it did just that, because suddenly he knew exactly whose hands were on him. He went from plotting a fist to the throat to resigning himself to be led away.
Still, that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Once they stopped at the back of the crowd, Gintoki didn’t hesitate to jab his elbow into an entirely too firm stomach. He felt the slight intake of breath, quiet as it was, since it brushed against his neck. The hand against his mouth slipped down to join the other at his waist and both hands wrapped around his stomach, holding him still.
“It’s me,” Hijikata said roughly, voice under his ear.
Gintoki rolled his eyes. “I know, idiot. Are you done molesting me in public now?”
He expected Hijikata to hurriedly shove him away, hiss something in retaliation, but the hands around him only tightened. Hijikata nosed at his sweaty neck instead. Gintoki flushed.
“You were going to make a scene,” Hijikata said, as if that was satisfactory explanation. His lips tickled against Gintoki’s skin. Ignoring the accusation, hmm? Well, Gintoki could make it harder—hah—for him to ignore.
He reached back and awkwardly, but with great success, cupped the not-insignificant bulge between Hijikata’s legs. “And why shouldn’t I?” he challenged.
“Do you want them to know we’re here?” Hijikata’s tone finally took on some urgency. Good! He should sweat a little.
“Well, now that I’ve already been scarred for life, why shouldn’t they feel embarrassed? Also, of all the songs—!” Gintoki cut himself off with an indignant huff.
Hijikata scoffed. “You think they’ll be embarrassed? Please. If you let them know it’s not a secret anymore, you could see that anywhere! You’ll come home and Sougo will be making out with China on your couch! If you show any weakness, he’ll never let you have a moment’s peace again!”
Gintoki was caught off guard by his own burst of laughter. He couldn’t help it. Despite all his churning emotions, he felt like his blood was calmer already; a sense of peace settled in his stomach, more potent than anything the alcohol had done. Being around Hijikata had a way of doing that to him.
“He’s really done a number on you,” Gintoki observed lightly. He gave Hijikata’s dick a light squeeze. “Wanna get out of here? Gin-san can make you feel better.”
The tension was palpable. Hijikata shifted with uncertainty. Well, if it made him feel any better, the offer also came as a surprise to Gintoki! He hadn’t exactly been planning to proposition his ex tonight, but clearly old habits die hard. Especially when said ex is holding him just like that time they’d had sex against the wall of Hijikata’s room in the barracks. Gintoki had cum to the sound of the men shouting as they did drills on the training grounds, and in the throes of orgasmic delusion, he might have imagined Hijikata doing him just like this but outside, so everyone could see how dirty their vice-chief really was, sticking his dick where no respectable citizen—let alone member of the Shinsengumi—should be sticking his dick.
“We haven’t seen each other since…”
“Since you dumped me, yeah, I know,” Gintoki said. “I’m still down to fuck, though.”
Now the tension was not only palpable, it was an open wound, sliced all the way down to the floor between them. Gintoki finally wriggled loose and turned around. His heart did a little twist when he saw Hijikata’s face. It looked like he was wearing that wound. Why, though, Gintoki couldn’t imagine.
“That’s not…what I wanted to happen. I just—I needed some space,” Hijikata said jerkily. “This—you—and everything—it’s a lot. But then you went away, and started avoiding me, and I’ve been—”
“Horny?”
“…Bereft.”
Gintoki eyed Hijikata. He felt like he could skip all this boring stuff and jump right into kissing Hijikata’s face off if some more inspiring music was playing. Instead he had the forlorn crooning in the background, continuously reminding him about the hole in his heart—which was, admittedly, hurting less now that Hijikata was in front of him again for the first time in weeks.
“Don’t go away,” Hijikata said, somewhat stilted, but Gintoki could sense the cracked emotion beneath. He pulled Gintoki into an awkward half-hug. Gintoki let himself be held. He pretended burying his face in Hijikata’s neck was unavoidable and took a good sniff or two. Fuck, he’d actually missed that cigarette reek.
“Why are you even here?” Gintoki asked, muffled.
“I was following Sougo. He’s been acting suspicious lately. I wasn’t going to stay, but then I saw you on the stairs. I thought we could talk after the show.” It was funny that Hijikata actually sounded a little sheepish.
“Mmm,” Gintoki said, nestling further into his neck. “Stalker. Just like your boss.”
“Why are you here?” Hijikata asked. And then, less assuredly, “And earlier, why did you say of all the songs…?”
Gintoki pulled back sharply and glared at him. “Because a certain bastard dumped me a month ago and I’m still feeling a bit sore about it, alright? Excuse me if I want to wallow in misery a little and listen to a break-up song in peace without watching some happy couple make out. Which, of course, is only that much worse now that I know who they are.”
“So, wallowing—that’s why you came tonight?”
Gintoki scoffed. “No! I’m not that miserable about it! It’s a job for some fan who couldn’t make it and wanted to get her band t-shirt signed! The music was just luck.”
A silence hung between them. Remarkably no one had told them to be quiet, although they were all the way at the back and it didn’t seem like anyone was paying them much attention. Gintoki started to notice the music again.
“Now you won’t let it end / But we can never be friends…”
He snorted. For the first time this night, he thought the singer should shut up. They get it already! Maybe he can take a break from being miserable, just for a bit. All that sensitive bullshit about needing space—yeah, the guy’s trying to let him down easy, he gets it, but if Hijikata’s still open to hooking up, that’s good enough for Gintoki.
“Wanna go somewhere?” Gintoki tried again. He leaned in, lips ghosting over Hijikata’s mouth. “You can put this,” he groped Hijikata’s dick through his pants, “in me and fuck me until I cry.”
Hijikata, surprisingly, surged forward, closing the small distance between their mouths. Gintoki made a strangled noise. He'd expected further persuasion to be necessary, but Hijikata was kissing him like he was plenty persuaded already.
“I saw you earlier—” Hijikata told him, in between moments of fucking Gintoki’s mouth with his tongue, “—you looked like you were close to crying.”
“Stalker,” Gintoki panted. “Does the public know the Shinsengumi is run by stalkers?”
Hijikata ignored him. “Don’t cry,” he said. “Don’t say that like it’s what I want.”
“Well, what the fuck do you want?” Gintoki demanded. He could’ve been angry, the way he had been all these weeks, now finally given the chance to shout at the source of his grief, but he was hard and starting to lose track of things and what he currently wanted most was just to get closer to Hijikata, so his tone was colored by desperation more than anything else.
“Another try,” Hijikata said. His voice broke slightly. He pulled back and wiped his mouth, then placed one steadying hand at the nape of Gintoki’s neck.
It felt like his ears were filled with cotton. “Really?” he said doubtfully. “Because we can just fuck; you don’t have to say nice things to convince me back to bed. Hate-sex can be fun, too.”
That made Hijikata flinch. Gintoki sighed. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, that he was so discomfited by that look on Hijikata’s face. “Not that I hate you,” he added, spurred by the prick of guilt. “I was over that by like the third song.”
Hijikata smiled wearily. He continued to hold Gintoki.
Gintoki thought maybe Hijikata was a masochist, after all.
“This thing between us is unsteady, Gintoki,” Hijikata said, holding his gaze. “It tips so suddenly I think I’ll fall off and drown, but when I figure out how to stand—it feels just right. When we were fighting, you said things too, but you never told me to go away. I shouldn’t have—I won’t say that again, because…I don’t want you to go away for good.”
Gintoki tried to smile. “This is such a weird night. If I’d known you were dying to give a cute little speech, I’d have shown up at the barracks weeks ago and confronted you in front of all your men. You sure you still want me back, vice-chief?”
Hijikata’s eyes seemed to cut straight through him. He didn’t let out that exasperated sigh Gintoki knew well, nor did he ignore the provocation. “Yes, you bastard,” he said simply.
Gintoki squirmed. Whether or not that had gone straight to his cock was not really important. “Okay, okay. Can we go have sex in a nice hotel and not talk about any of this again for a super long time, or like, ever?”
Hijikata kissed him.
It wasn’t all that long before his hands slid down Gintoki’s back to cup his ass. Gintoki moaned encouragingly and threw his own arms around Hijikata’s neck. He dragged his lips messily toward Hijikata’s ear. “I haven’t even fucked myself since we last had sex, so Gin-san’s hole will be extra tight for you. Don’t embarrass yourself by cumming right away, okay, Hijikata-kun?”
Hijikata pinched his ass. “Bitch,” he said under his breath. One of his hands came up to guide Gintoki back to his mouth. “Um, actually,” he said a moment later, face going a soft pink, “I thought you could—if maybe we—”
Gintoki felt like his vision whited out. All the blood in him promptly rushed between his legs. “Oh,” he said stupidly. “Fuck, yeah—yeah, we can do that.”
For a long moment they were too occupied with each other’s mouths to continue speaking. When Gintoki pulled back, grinning impishly, Hijikata groaned.
“So," Gintoki started, "Hijikata-kun was playing with himself when he was alone, is that it? Did you get good at fucking yourself? Did you imagine it was me? My fingers, my cock, filling you up?”
Hijikata’s breathing was strained. “Shut up,” he hissed, but the faint tremble in his voice undercut his authority.
Gintoki kissed the corner of his mouth. “Come on. Let’s go before I make a different kind of scene.”
Hijikata let himself be dragged toward the stairs, but halfway across the floor, he stopped abruptly. When Gintoki glanced back at him, he said, “Weren’t you on a job?”
Gintoki blinked, uncomprehending. “Fuck,” he muttered when he remembered. Well, these things happen. How could he know he was going to win back his stupid boyfriend tonight? Surely the client understood; some things took precedence. Having filthy make-up sex, for example. He shrugged. “Eh, whatever.”
“That’s a horrible work ethic,” Hijikata said, not seeming entirely convinced. He sounded a bit hot about it, actually, but Gintoki figured he’d teased him enough for now. The hotel would be a different story, of course.
“Gin-chan!”
Gintoki shared a look of horror with Hijikata in the brief moment before the two people he wanted to avoid most materialized beside them.
“Give me the t-shirt, Gin-chan!” Kagura said cheerfully. “I’ll finish the job.”
Gintoki gave her a wary look. “…Sure,” he said, avoiding eye-contact with Okita. He removed the folded shirt from his sleeve and handed it over. “How do you even know about the job? You weren’t home earlier.”
Kagura looked unfazed. “Yeah, but Soyo-chan’s friend is the client, so she told me.”
Gintoki nodded, still feeling as though something wasn’t quite right. But there was no time to dwell on that now. They had better go quickly, while they could still make an easy escape—
“Hijikata-san,” Okita said pleasantly. “Leaving so soon?”
Hijikata tensed. “Sougo,” he said stiffly.
Okita looked over the two of them. “It seems like you’ve made up with the Yorozuya. That’s nice.”
Hijikata’s jaw worked visibly. Gintoki patted his hand. “How do you even know about—I mean, that’s none of your business,” Hijikata said tersely.
“You must have been more convincing than I’d anticipated,” Okita continued, undeterred. “See, we’ve all been a little fed up with your indecision, so I thought I’d do my part to speed things up. I guess it’s not necessary now, but it’s probably too late to stop at this point. They’ve put so much hard work into it, after all.”
“What are you talking about?” Hijikata demanded.
Gintoki returned to a familiar fantasy about attaching a leash to his particularly fierce vice-chief—that way, whenever he started barking, Gintoki could firmly tug him on their way until he settled down again like a good boy.
Okita smirked. “Well, if you had the good manners to wait for the band’s set to finish, I think you’d figure it out pretty quickly.”
Hijikata stared at him, nostrils flared, clearly still uncomprehending, until something shifted on his face. The color seeped from his cheeks. “Did you go through my trash?” he asked, deathly quiet.
Okita laughed. “At great personal expense. A lot of used tissues, if you know what I mean.” He cast a knowing smile toward Gintoki. “No need to thank me for my sacrifice.”
“What does he mean, Gin-chan?”
Gintoki glared at Okita. “Ignore him,” he told Kagura. “Also, we need to talk. About your…dating choices. Um, not now, though. Later.”
Kagura’s nose wrinkled. “Gross! We’re not dating! This is just a temporary truce! I told him where you were going tonight so he could lure Toshi here! Everyone wants the two of you to go back to how things were before!”
Okita slapped a hand over her mouth, smiling coolly. “For some of us, it’s simply a matter of convenience.”
Somewhere deep in his chest, Gintoki felt something warm stir upon hearing that apparently people really did want them to be together. He had imagined the Shinsengumi throwing a party once they realized the Yorozuya wasn’t coming around anymore.
Somewhere much closer to the surface, however, Gintoki felt the urge to twist Okita’s balls.
“So tell me, Okita-kun,” Gintoki said with a wide smile, “why were you kissing Kagura-chan?”
Kagura must have bit his hand because Okita pulled it back sharply with a grimace. He scowled, but before he could say anything, Kagura cut in.
“Kissing? Ew, never! We were sparring! Soyo-chan told me that adults fight weird like that sometimes!”
Gintoki rubbed his temple. He may need to have a conversation with the princess.
When Gintoki turned back to Okita, he didn’t hesitate to point an accusing finger at Kagura. “She started it. I was just holding my ground. I didn’t know there was a kind of sparring like that, but next time we meet, China, I’ll definitely crush you.”
Gintoki’s mouth dropped. …Okita actually believed her?
“Hah! You wish, sadist! I was going easy on you, anyway! Next time we can fight in a better location, somewhere without other people, where I don’t have to hold back! Like an alley, or under the bridge, or—”
“Kagura-chan, please,” Gintoki said, pained. “No fighting like that until you’re at least twenty-five.”
Kagura gasped. “Gin-chan, I can’t wait that long! I have to practice now, so when my stupid brother—”
Okita slapped the hand back over her mouth. “Only people from Earth know about this kind of fighting,” he said with an unreadable smile, "so you can only practice with me, China.”
Kagura looked like she was about to launch a vehement protest.
He added, “No one else is good enough. You’ll never improve.”
She crossed her arms. “Fine,” she said sulkily. “Hope you like broken bones.”
His smile widened. “I love them.”
She glared. “Sadist freak.”
Gintoki turned to his side, amazed that Hijikata had been silent through all that, only to discover him missing.
“Uh,” he said, trying to contain his rising panic, “Did either of you see where Hijikata-kun went?”
Okita narrowed in on him with the single-mindedness of a shark smelling blood. “Oh? Danna, do you think he came to his senses and left? I wouldn’t be surp—”
Kagura socked him in the stomach. “Shut up! This whole thing was your idea!”
“Not true,” he said through a wheeze, “Don’t listen to her, danna.”
Kagura ignored him as she scanned the crowd. Her face lit up and she jabbed a finger in the air. “I see him, Gin-chan! He’s over by the stage!”
Gintoki followed her finger. Sure enough, he saw Hijikata lurking by the corner of the stage, shifting awkwardly, eyes flitting between the women performing. He tried waving his hands when the drummer glanced at him, but she quickly looked away again. He said something next, Gintoki could see his mouth moving, but he had no idea what he was saying, and no one else paid him any attention.
“What is he doing?” he wondered aloud. He frowned and glanced at Okita. “Is this about what you said?”
Okita smirked, still clutching his stomach, and didn’t give an answer.
At that moment, the music began to fade out. The lead singer’s voice rang through the room. “For this last one, we have something a little different. A thoughtful young man came to us earlier with some very heartfelt letters to his ex-partner, who is a big fan and also in attendance tonight! As you might know, we often do songwriting challenges online, so he wondered if we would try a song based on the letters, taking the lyrics directly from his words. Now, this isn’t to pressure anyone, but from what we’ve heard, there has been talk of getting back together, and he wanted to show how serious he was with a big gesture.”
The singer paused to laugh good-naturedly. “As you’ve probably figured out from our set tonight, we’re not really big on the whole love thing!”
The crowd joined in her laughter.
“But this seemed like fun, and what better way to end the night than with something special? Best of luck, Hijikata-san! We hope everyone enjoys!”
The guitarist started strumming the first notes.
Gintoki blinked. “He’s going to kill you,” he informed Okita. “I might want to kill you.”
Letters? To him?…Love letters? What kind of shoujo manga had Hijikata been reading? Well, they had ended up in the trash, so he must have remembered who he was and what manga they were from eventually.
He would never admit it to another living person, but Gintoki was now reminded of that time not so long ago he had, inspired by half a bottle of wine, written a number of messages on that notepad Shinpachi left lying around—all of them directed at Hijikata, ranging from complaint to accusation to apologetic plea. He’d finished them off with a good cry, of which the only good thing to result was the fact that the writing became mostly illegible.
He burned the paper in the morning with the lighter Hijikata had left behind. Staring into the orange flame, watching honest words that he hadn’t even known had been sitting inside him slowly eaten, he had briefly speculated whether he might actually have a spark of literary talent.
Then he had sobered up—since the first thing he had done after waking was to finish the wine—and resolved to banish the whole forty-eight hours to the deepest, most untraversable depths of his memory. Leave it to Okita to unknowingly inflict equal psychic damage on Gintoki with his plot against Hijikata.
He felt like he needed to take a seat, but there was nowhere to sit and nowhere to escape, unless he abandoned Hijikata to his cruel fate. But he wasn’t going to do that, today or any day; Gintoki accepted the fact with grim resignation and a modicum of affection.
“I need a drink,” he decided. He wandered over to the bar. The open windows welcomed him with some much-needed crisp air. The band was in full swing now, but all Gintoki heard was noise. He wondered if Hijikata would actually climb onto the stage. That could be entertaining.
“Whiskey,” he said to the bartender. The man poured him a glass first and told him the cost second. Gintoki was still too disoriented to give that absurdity the reaction it deserved. “So look, I need it for free,” he said.
The bartender eyed him dubiously.
Gintoki pointed up, toward the invisible music echoing against the closed roof. “The song— it’s about me. Please, the drink.”
The bartender suppressed a smile and pushed the glass across the counter.
Gintoki drained it in three gulps and took a deep breath. “Okay, one more?” He flashed a hopeful smile this time. “Not for me, but that poor bastard over there.” He nodded in Hijikata’s direction, where he was now standing rigid and holding his face in his hands.
The bartender obliged. Gintoki thought maybe being pathetic had its perks. How come Hasegawa was always having such a hard time of it?
Gintoki raised the glass in thanks as he walked back into the crowd.
He felt nearly weightless, blood thrumming with alcohol, with the sound all around him. At the same time, he was burning up; this air was too thin, there were too many surging, sweating bodies, and he needed to push up his sleeves and maybe kick his feet into Hijikata’s lap.
Hijikata didn’t see him coming, of course, and he couldn’t very well hear him coming, either. Gintoki wrapped an arm around his waist without warning, squeezing his hip and saying nothing; Hijikata startled, head snapping toward Gintoki. A satisfying revenge for earlier.
Gintoki held out the glass. “Drink this,” he half-shouted. It was understandably louder at the front of the crowd. “It’ll fix you.”
“I’m not broken, asshole!” Hijikata shouted back.
Gintoki clapped his shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”
“Someone’s face is going to be, though, when I catch him,” Hijikata added, voice taking on an ominous note. “I’ll kill Sougo and commit seppuku. Kondou-san will have to find a new second and third in command. He’ll understand. Hey, what about Shimura? The glasses one, obviously.”
Gintoki eyed Hijikata and decided to play along. He tapped his chin consideringly. “The Shinsengumi would be lucky to have Shinpachi. Hmm—and you know, Otae could be a decent you. Get the brother and sister both, make it a real family affair. Although, Kondou might not be able to focus on leading effectively anymore. So pros and cons.”
Hijikata stared at him blankly. For a second, Gintoki saw real panic flash in his eyes. Hijikata took another long gulp.
Gintoki sensed a brief moment of sobriety might be necessary, if not appreciated. “Don’t do that, though,” he said. He nudged Hijikata’s shoulder. “We have to go have sex, remember? And more sex. And then you have to unfreeze my internet café membership. And then you have to keep earning a decent salary because I can’t support two growing brats on my own.”
“So confident,” Hijikata muttered. He took a more restrained sip. “Where’d that come from all of a sudden?”
Gintoki smirked. “Well, I figure this is pretty humiliating for you, so I’m feeling relatively stable myself right now. Standing just like this is working well for me, I think.”
Hijikata gave him an incredulous look, but there was a faint hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Are you seriously using my metaphor against me? What, so I have to be soundly beneath you for this to work? Fragile ego much, Gintoki?”
Gintoki squeezed his ass and smiled at Hijikata’s jolt of surprise. “You can be beneath me anytime you want,” he murmured. In a louder voice, he continued, “But that’s not exactly what I meant. I just mean—I’ll give you a hand up now, and maybe in the future, you could do the same for me. So that way, when it tips, it’s not so ahhh. You know?”
Hijikata snorted. “You’ve got a way with words when you try, huh?”
Gintoki chose to take that as a genuine compliment. Against his better judgement, buoyed by the whiskey, by the thing that felt suspiciously like love beating in time with his heart, he leaned in close and whispered against Hijikata’s ear, “Maybe one day, if you’re very good, I’ll tell you a secret that’ll make you feel better about tonight.”
Hijikata eyed him. “What is it?”
Gintoki grinned and kissed him.
Their embrace progressed in intensity over the seconds. Hijikata nearly dropped the glass when Gintoki licked into his mouth. They broke apart with breathless laughter.
The song had to be nearly over at this point, but Gintoki could still hear the instruments and the singer’s formless voice in the background. Loudest was his blood, singing a melody of its own most distracting, soaring whenever Hijikata glanced toward him in that fond, exasperated way.
“Are you listening?” Hijikata asked after a moment, eyes flitting over Gintoki’s face.
“What?” Gintoki said, taken aback. For a second, all he could think was that Hijikata somehow knew how fast his heart was racing.
“The song,” Hijikata said dryly.
Gintoki relaxed. “Oh. Um, not really. Should I?”
Hijikata shrugged. He turned down to his nearly empty glass.
Gintoki watched him for a long second before looking up at the stage. The lead singer had a keyboard beneath her microphone—had that always been there?—and was singing loudly, eyes closed, face scrunched up. Gintoki could feel the power in her voice. For the first time, he thought he could understand a little about Shinpachi’s Otsuu fascination. There was something about live music that a recording couldn’t quite replicate.
Gintoki stopped tuning her out. He listened.
Don’t go so far
If we can’t be like that
If it won’t turn out all right
At least let me say good night
Until I only remember your smiling face
Always my favorite embrace
We could try again
I would never tire
And this time…
The singer drew out the last note of the unfinished line. The instruments finished before she went silent. When her voice began to fade, the applause finally broke out. Gintoki clapped along as Hijikata fidgeted with his glass.
The singer glanced down at the two of them as she stepped back from the microphone. She gave them a sharp look. Gintoki was all ready with a smile and wave, but she looked away and called someone over. Next she was pointing at them and saying something to the tall man beside her, who, haha, was wearing a shirt that said SECURITY.
Gintoki nudged Hijikata, who didn’t look up.
“Time to go, Hijikata-kun,” he said. He snatched the glass away and set it on the stage, then quickly pulled Hijikata toward the stairs.
Hijikata went easily. Gintoki was glad, because he had no leash and Okita was still lurking around here somewhere. Thankfully, he must have disappeared into the audience. Hopefully Kagura was keeping a firm hand on him. Maybe she could benefit from a leash, too.
As soon as they were outside, Gintoki threw himself into Hijikata. Hijikata spluttered and straightened up to support him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Gintoki laughed. “Relax! You should drink more. No, actually, I think we should both get so drunk. That was kind of a lot, right? Aren’t you glad it’s over? I mean, Okita still has your love letters, so that’s not great for you, but—”
Hijikata grabbed his shirt in an un-sexy, menacing way. Gintoki’s cock still gave a valiant twitch. “Remember what you said earlier? About going to a nice hotel and not talking about this ever again?”
“Yeah?”
Hijikata released him. “Let’s do that, Gintoki.”
Gintoki laughed again. “Yeah. But first—”
He dragged Hijikata to a twenty-four-hour supermarket. They bought boxed wine and a couple vodka miniatures. Gintoki poured one straight into Hijikata’s mouth and kissed the stray drops off his lips on their way out the door. They stumbled to an empty parking spot and worked on getting smashed. It didn’t take long.
Gintoki had been mouthing against Hijikata’s neck for a good few minutes but as soon as he pulled Hijikata’s cravat off and tugged his collar down further, Hijikata was suddenly all uptight again, shaking him off and straightening his jacket.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, but his smile kept breaking loose. “Are you drunk enough now?”
“I’m always drunk looking at you,” Gintoki managed.
Hijikata shoved him. Gintoki nearly went down to the concrete.
“Fuck!” Hijikata pulled him back up. “Okay, come on. You’re cut off.”
“Baby,” Gintoki whined. “One more.”
Hijikata eyed him. After a moment, he took a gulp of the wine and yanked Gintoki in close. Gintoki went obligingly, pleasantly surprised when Hijikata opened his mouth and gave him a mouthful of the sweet wine. His vice-chief could get kind of dirty, huh?
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Gintoki mumbled when Hijikata pulled back.
“Yeah, whatever. Come on,” Hijikata said, pulling him up to his feet. He dragged him toward the end of the block and Gintoki stopped caring where they went. He closed his eyes and let Hijikata lead them wherever. Hopefully to a love hotel.
Hijikata didn’t exactly seem to appreciate the blind trust. He hissed when Gintoki stepped on his foot for at least the third time. “Oi!” he snapped and pinched Gintoki’s cheek. “Wake up, bastard! Do you still wanna fuck me or not?”
Gintoki was revitalized after that. He managed to stand up straight and mostly avoid random fits of laughter whenever Hijikata glanced his way.
He didn’t really remember their arrival at the hotel, though. There was a lobby and a screen and Hijikata picking out his preferred room and an elevator up and up and Gintoki felt a little dizzy until Hijikata kissed him and that made him feel even lighter, more in danger of floating away, but at least he had the taste of him on his lips as they strode down the hallway.
Hijikata pushed the door open with enough force to make it bounce off the wall and immediately ducked into the bathroom.
“Get ready,” he barked at Gintoki.
Gintoki made a gesture of salute but he was already gone.
He wandered into the room alone. It was spacious; a definite step-up from his usual stays at love hotels. A massive bed in the center and a mini-fridge against the opposite wall with a T.V. hung above it. Mirrors on the other walls and the ceiling. No windows. Gintoki battled an impulse to drag Hijikata back onto the street. For the fresh air and the freedom, not just to be in public! Mostly!
…He might need to eventually confront this possible exhibitionist streak. But definitely not now. He can make that Hijikata’s problem some other time.
He collapsed on the bed, still clothed, and stared at the mirror unthinking for several long minutes. When he returned to awareness, he could hear the shower going in the background. He hastily stripped his clothes off.
His dick had already been teased plenty tonight. He gave it a few experimental strokes and soon it was more than ready to be of service.
He tried to assume a casual look for when Hijikata came back in. The last time they’d had sex was just about a month ago. Actually, it was the exact night Hijikata had told him he needed some space to think.
Gintoki had heard what he’d said in a stupor—maybe more blind-sided than he should have been, in retrospect—and gone out and gotten properly drunk, then returned to Hijikata’s room at about two a.m. and knocked on the door until Hijikata had dragged him inside. Hijikata had grudgingly, patiently, come around; let Gintoki climb in his lap and ride his cock and make way too much noise, and in the morning, he had kissed Gintoki’s neck and pulled the covers up before he left, so Gintoki had briefly forgotten what had happened the night before. Until he tried to text Hijikata the next day and Hijikata sent him the same words in text form, which possibly sliced all the deeper for it. I just need some space.
Of course after that, Gintoki had proceeded to do everything in his ability to never cross paths with him again.
Damn. All this reminiscing was making him kind of bitter. Anyway, the point was he hadn’t been with anyone since. He had stroked himself to a handful of disappointing orgasms in the shower and occasionally other places, but that was it.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the water finally turn off. Hijikata came out in a robe a minute or so later.
“Still awake?” he quipped.
Gintoki faked a laugh. “Take it off,” he told him.
Hijikata visibly shivered. “Well, okay,” he said. He shrugged it off. The white fabric fell to the floor, leaving him completely naked. Gintoki’s dick twitched.
“Come here,” he said.
Hijikata crawled over him. “I thought I was gonna be beneath you,” he whispered, trailing his mouth down Gintoki’s chest.
Gintoki gripped the back of his neck. He resisted the urge to thrust against Hijikata’s thigh. “That’s up to you,” Gintoki said in a controlled voice after a long moment. “I’d rather not hit it from behind, though.”
Hijikata pinched his thigh. “What a romantic,” he said sarcastically. “And I suppose you want me to do all the hard work by riding you?”
Gintoki couldn’t resist anymore; he dragged his hips up experimentally. Hijikata grinded against him in response. “I’m so drunk,” he said. “I just wanna be inside you. And yeah, it would be hot as fuck if you rode me. But we can also—”
Hijikata cut him off by grabbing his dick. “Nah,” he said decisively. “This is good. I like you beneath me, actually.”
Hijikata started to lower himself onto Gintoki’s dick.
“Fuck,” Gintoki hissed. He dug his heels into the sheets. “You take it so well.”
Hijikata grunted. “Shut up. You’re—big.”
Gintoki’s cock twitched. He planted his feet and thrust his hips up. “Yeah? Bigger than your fingers? Than your toys?”
“You self-obsessed bastard,” Hijikata grunted. “Yes!”
Hijikata had to catch his breath once he was fully seated. Gintoki rocked his hips carefully and Hijikata threw himself against his chest and dug his nails in. “Do that again,” Hijikata demanded.
Gintoki obliged. Hijikata gasped and clung to him harder, which involved more nails and possible blood drawn. Still, more than worth it.
“Kiss me,” Gintoki breathed frantically.
Hijikata bent down, wincing as it adjusted Gintoki’s cock inside him, and slammed his mouth forward. Gintoki met him eagerly.
He tasted like toothpaste, and beneath that, the faint hint of vodka. Not getting rid of that so easily, Gintoki thought smugly and licked into him with enthusiasm. “I missed this,” he murmured in between hurried kisses as Hijikata grunted with exertion above him. He thought maybe it went unheard, which honestly was better for saving face, but then Hijikata was fixing him with a look.
“I missed it, too, bastard,” Hijikata said, somewhat strained. He lifted his hips and dropped back down. They both let out harsh noises. “You and your stupid big cock.”
“You can have it whenever you want,” Gintoki said. “If you like it like this.”
Hijikata moaned. He put his hands on Gintoki’s chest to brace himself. “Yeah,” he said a moment later. “Yeah, I like it.”
Gintoki’s chest swelled. “Yeah. I like it, too. Can I…”
He grabbed Hijikata’s ass to demonstrate.
Hijikata laughed. The sound made Gintoki’s heart ache in a way that couldn’t be good for him. “Harder,” Hijikata said, a challenge in his voice.
Gintoki swore his vision went blurry after that. Or, blurrier. He squeezed Hijikata’s ass hard, as instructed, and worked him up and down on his cock, and soon after, much too soon, he was cumming before he could even give a warning.
Hijikata didn’t seem to mind. He kissed Gintoki’s sweaty forehead and pushed his hair back. “Good?” he asked.
Gintoki shivered at his touch. “Yeah,” he said. “Obviously.”
Hijikata leaned down and nipped at his mouth. “Don’t cum so fucking soon next time.”
Gintoki smacked his ass for that. Hijikata groaned and rode him harder. Gintoki’s soft cock slipped out but that didn’t deter Hijikata; he just kept grinding against Gintoki’s stomach.
“Yeah,” Gintoki panted. “Focus on cumming yourself.”
He wrapped a hand around Hijikata’s cock and that put a swift end to everything. Hijikata came with a series of ragged moans as he rocked his hips on top of Gintoki. When he finished, he collapsed against Gintoki's chest.
“A little loud there. Pretty good, then?” Gintoki asked, smirking.
“Better than good, fucker,” Hijikata muttered.
Gintoki laughed and leaned back on the pillow. His temples throbbed with the motion. Just the thought of getting out of bed made him feel dizzy. “My head hurts,” he complained. “Will Hijikata-kun bring me some water?”
Hijikata lifted his head and gave Gintoki an unimpressed stare. “Usually the one who doesn’t have jizz dripping out of his ass gets up first.”
Gintoki reached out blindly and managed to bump Hijikata’s nose. “There, there. Poor baby. Is that the real reason you wanted to bottom? So Gin-san would treat you like a little princess?”
Hijikata started to snap something, but Gintoki wasn’t listening.
“Sorry to disappoint. I’m a little too drunk right now. But if you come sit on my face, I can eat it out of you. Then will you get me water?”
The only answer he received was a pillow against his face, landing with some mild force. He didn’t bother moving it. The bed shifted and Hijikata grumbled inaudibly. A mysterious but probably short amount of time later, the bed dipped again and Hijikata was pulling the pillow off and helping him sit up.
“Gintoki?” His voice sounded tense. That wasn’t good. Gintoki should fuck him again…well, maybe in a few minutes.
“Oi,” Hijikata said, sounding more upset. He snapped his fingers in front of Gintoki’s face. “Are you gonna puke?
Gintoki smiled serenely, eyes still closed.
Hijikata made a derisive noise. He pressed something cool against Gintoki’s lips. “Why did you drink so goddamn much, you idiot—wasn’t it me getting humiliated back there? Come on, drink your water.”
The glass lifted slightly and Gintoki gulped the liquid down mindlessly. His mouth was still dry, so he kept swallowing until there was nothing left. His tongue chased the rim for any last drops. He heard an amused huff.
“You look like you do when you’re waiting for me to cum on your face,” Hijikata told him in a low voice.
Gintoki managed to crack an eye. He saw Hijikata kneeling in front of him, an arm braced on the mattress beside his hip. The robe was back on, but hung loose, so Gintoki could basically see everything. He liked what he saw. He wanted to say that, but instead he tipped forward, straight into Hijikata’s chest.
“Hey,” Hijikata said, sounding surprised. The concern was back, too. He held Gintoki firmly and tilted his chin up. “Are you just drunk or is there something wrong with you? More than usual, I mean.”
For some reason, his eyes started to feel wet. He watched Hijikata’s confusion mirror his own before realization dawned. Hijikata froze. “I said I didn’t want you to cry, remember?” he said quietly. He cupped Gintoki’s cheek and carefully wiped his eyes with his other hand. “I’ll go—”
Gintoki’s stomach lurched. He flung his arms around Hijikata’s waist. “Don’t go,” he said. There was a fresh pain in his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’ll make it work. Please—”
Hijikata pulled him closer, guiding Gintoki’s face into his shoulder. “Shhh,” he said softly. “Calm down. I was only going to get more water.”
A hand rubbed comforting circles against his back. “Look...I didn’t want to stop seeing you. But I have these thoughts—sometimes my chest constricts when I see you because I can’t stop thinking about it. In case we lose…this…maybe it’s better to not let it get so far to begin with. You know? We’re both good at being alone. You choose not to get involved, too, right? I know you do. But you like sex, so when it was just that—fine. But it wasn’t just that anymore. It’s still not.”
A sigh.
“But I realized—you were the person I wanted to complain to each day about how miserable I was, how I missed you, but I couldn’t because you had left, and I just kept thinking that you were the only one I wanted to talk to about it. For now, I just want to try being together without worrying about what to call it. Because then I start to feel responsible, and the responsible thing to do would be to end it and keep our distance.”
Gintoki was hanging on to his words, and individually they made sense, but piecing them together was proving an unwelcome challenge. He still nodded against Hijikata’s shoulder like he understood.
Hijikata seemed to see through him. A quiet laugh escaped him. “I’m only saying all this because you won’t remember in the morning. So don’t worry. Just know that I’m not going to ask for space again because that’s not what I want. Whenever I think about living in this city, it always involves you.”
Gintoki raised his head slowly. He tapped his mouth insistently and Hijikata, after a moment, leaned in to kiss him.
“I’m going to remember,” Gintoki declared, slurring the words slightly. “I’ll convince you to be my boyfriend.”
Hijikata snorted. “Sure, Gintoki. I think it’s time for bed, now, okay? Get under the covers—yes, I’m taking it off, you don’t need to grab—no, don’t touch my dick, just go to sleep. Close your eyes.”
Gintoki pouted and wrapped himself tighter against Hijikata. One leg was thrown over Hijikata’s thighs, and the other was flush against Hijikata’s own leg. His face was tucked against Hijikata’s neck, and every few breaths he took a deep inhale against his skin, comforted by the familiar smell of nicotine, sweat, and cologne, mostly in that order. At least he didn’t smell like mayonnaise.
Stupid nicotine-addicted bastard. Why did he smell so good? Why did Gintoki feel like all his worries had completely and utterly vanished with just a few good sniffs?
“You have bad habits, vice-chief,” Gintoki mumbled senselessly as he drifted off.
For some reason, Hijikata laughed.
The sound followed him into his dreams; he was sure it would make them sweeter.
---
When he woke in the morning, the first thing he did was carefully disentangle himself from Hijikata—mouth open and drool crusted on his cheek, cute—and bang his head against the bathroom door a few times. He splashed some water on his face, experienced a brief surge of horror at the red, swollen skin around his eyes, brushed his teeth and scrubbed his tongue until he could no longer taste vodka, and then took a brief inventory of the essentials. Wallet with a grand total of 300-yen, on the ground; phone, on the ground; bokuto, inexplicably stabbed into a fallen pillow; t-shirt…no, he’d given that to Kagura, that’s right. Well, that was all of his possessions.
With that settled, he turned to Hijikata's sleeping form. His face heated.
“Be my boyfriend,” Gintoki parroted and groaned. “What a fucking idiot.”
He dug through Hijikata’s strewn belongings, strongly convinced there was as yet un-drunk alcohol tucked away somewhere. He only had 300-yen left after all; they must have bought more than they had managed to drink. Well, he’d probably only had 300-yen to begin with. He couldn’t be sure. But he had a vague memory of Hijikata paying.
Fuck, Hijikata was going to pay for things again.
Gintoki pushed down his giddiness and looked back at the man currently sleeping in a very unattractive manner. He was on his back now, arms thrown over his head, mouth still open, hair sticking in ten different directions—as Gintoki stared, Hijikata made a little sleepy groan and turned onto his side, away from Gintoki. He took the sheets with him, though, so all of a sudden Gintoki had an excellent view of Hijikata’s muscled, scarred back and his ass, looking especially grabbable this morning.
The second time he’d fucked Hijikata and he’d been nearly too drunk to remember it. He was worried the first time, a couple months ago now, had been enough to put Hijikata off it entirely, but clearly he’d been putting their time apart to good use. It was a comforting thought that during the time Gintoki had been sobbing noiselessly over his cereal while Kagura and Shinpachi exchanged looks and pretended not to see, Hijikata had been hard at work stretching his ass. It was also a somewhat irritating one.
Gintoki flung himself back onto the bed and pressed up behind Hijikata.
“Hijikata-kunnn, time to wake up,” he said in a sing-song voice. He placed a hand on Hijikata’s hip and slid it lower, between his legs. He was already half-hard, Gintoki discovered triumphantly. “Good dreams?”
Hijikata grunted and shifted on the bed but didn’t turn over. Gintoki shrugged and shimmied down, pressing the occasional kiss to Hijikata’s back as he did. “What’s this, hmm?” he said, pulling Hijikata’s ass open. “Still so tight! That’s no good!”
Gintoki nibbled playfully at his ass. He leaned in with his tongue. “See, I want to ruin you,” he said conversationally. “Ruin this sweet little hole. What do you think, Hijikata-kun? Should I?”
He pushed his tongue forward. Hijikata moaned and pushed backwards into him. Hardly a second later, his whole body jolted. The next second, he was whirling around and yanking Gintoki up by his hair.
“The fuck are you doing, pervert?” Hijikata demanded breathlessly, chest heaving. His eyes bored into Gintoki’s. “Do you…remember last night?”
Gintoki smirked. His fingers crept back toward Hijikata’s weak spot.
“I remember,” he said and had the delight of watching Hijikata’s skin slowly go from pink to red in the span of about five seconds. He might have been stretching the truth a little, but clearly, it was worth it. He remembered most everything until after they had sex, and then it was mostly a blur with snatches of conversation—like his mortifying declaration, for example. And before that—
“You want to be responsible, right?” Gintoki said, urging Hijikata back onto his side. He went easily, clearly still a bit stunned. “Think that means ending things? But I make you want to be irresponsible.” He was embellishing now. “I can show you. Convince you that—”
Hijikata rolled back over abruptly and yanked Gintoki’s face down. Their lips met roughly; Gintoki scrambled for control and swiftly lost it when Hijikata started sucking on his tongue.
“You liar,” Hijikata murmured against him. “You don’t remember shit, or you’d know you don’t have to convince me of anything.”
Gintoki blinked. He freed himself and climbed on top of Hijikata, straddling his waist. “I do!” he insisted. “I know you don’t want to define what this,” he waved his hands between them, “is, and that’s—” he paused abruptly. “That’s actually a great idea.”
Hijikata raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Is it?”
Gintoki nodded thoughtfully, eyes focused on something distant. He remembered all the times he had gone to Otae to ask what it meant when the guy you were hooking up with said something about commitment, or conversely, said nothing about it, or when he had gone to Hasegawa, the only guy he knew who had actually been married once, to ask how he knew if his feelings were genuine, if he wanted this but didn’t want that, and what if Hijikata wanted that but didn’t want this, and was he really supposed to call Hijikata his boyfriend when he came up in conversation? Not that he came up often! Gintoki was sure he barely talked about him.
If he didn’t have to worry about all that stuff, it actually made things seem a lot simpler.
“Yeah,” Gintoki said. “Who cares. Be my boyfriend or don’t. Just let me eat you out and then take a nap on your chest.”
Hijikata gave him an odd look.
“I’m starting to get a killer headache,” Gintoki said by way of explanation.
Hijikata rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I fucking bet. Look in my pants. I have ibuprofen.”
Gintoki gave him a look.
Hijikata frowned. “What?”
“If I’m looking your pants,” Gintoki started, “I can think of something else I’d—”
Hijikata shoved him off the bed. “Go,” he ordered, glancing over the side. “I’ll wait.”
Gintoki dug through the clothing on the floor until he found the little bottle. He took it with water at the sink and tried to fix his hair. He stroked himself to full hardness again.
Hijikata was waiting for him, as promised. Half-sitting, head propped against several pillows, and the sheets were nowhere to be seen—he was fully naked, legs spread wide, and as Gintoki approached, they slipped wider.
“Hurry up,” Hijikata told him.
Gintoki felt like an unseen force pulled him forward, down between Hijikata’s open legs. There was still plenty that he could have said. Something about how he's never wanted to be alone less than when he’s with Hijikata, that he also can’t imagine a life in this place without him—but that all fell away between Hijikata’s legs; toppled down somewhere off the bed with all their clothes. Pinned by Hijikata’s stare, Gintoki could only stare in turn, noticing in an absent sort of way the little skips and dips his heart did in response.
“I think I love you,” Gintoki said distractedly as he bent down to take Hijikata’s cock in his mouth.
Hijikata said something above him and his legs flailed a little but Gintoki was both practiced and skilled at holding them down and he continued steadfast in his mission. Hijikata's resistance faltered. Gintoki already kind of wanted to bang his head against the bathroom door again, but he was having a lot of fun right here, so maybe everyone could forget what he just said and focus on the outstanding blowjob he was about to give instead.
Seriously, what was wrong with him? First last night, and now this, and he didn’t even have the good excuse of being drunk anymore. Fuck his stupid life, brainwashed by Shinsengumi dick.
Hijikata’s hand had by now made its way into Gintoki's hair. Gintoki leaned into it, and unknowingly found himself led up, away from his current oral fixation. As soon as Gintoki realized, eyes closed, chin tilted toward Hijikata, moaning a little at the fingertips against his scalp, he froze. He took a cautious glance up.
Hijikata was, unsurprisingly, already watching him.
“That’s...” Hijikata started hesitantly. Gintoki's heart slammed against his ribs. Was he actually going to acknowledge it? No, no, don't do that, Hijikata-kun— “...nice,” Hijikata finished.
Gintoki gaped. He smacked Hijikata’s thigh with the hand he wasn't using to grip Hijikata's dick. “Fuck you! You don’t have to say it back, but come on—that’s the best I get? Suck your own dick, then, because I—”
“You’re so annoying!” Hijikata blurted.
Gintoki blinked at him. He took his hand away from Hijikata’s dick.
“You’re such a pain in the ass, all the time! Getting in the way, on purpose and accidentally, whenever there’s an issue somehow you’re there and you make my life a hundred times more complicated than it needs to be! You’re going to end up with diabetes and you have a gambling problem and also probably a drinking problem and you’re never on time and you spend all your money on things you don’t need but you also buy things for the brats even when you don’t have to, and you’re always there when the Shinsengumi’s in a tight spot and you help people for free even when you say you never will and you have an obnoxiously large cock but you still bottom which is kind of stupidly sexy and also you didn’t make fun of my letters because—” Hijikata took a rushed breath. “You knew I couldn’t handle it. I’m sure you’ll be a dick about it later, but at the time—”
“Last night,” Gintoki supplied.
Hijikata gave him a warning glare. “Yeah. Last night. Last night, it meant—a lot. So thanks.”
“That’s it?” Gintoki clarified. He snuck a hand back to Hijikata’s cock.
“That is to say,” Hijikata said, a dark red under his cheeks, “I think—maybe I—the same, you know?”
Gintoki blinked. He started laughing.
“Can I go back to sucking your cock now?”
Hijikata, still ruffled, flushed deeper and made a gesture that Gintoki interpreted as permission to proceed. “I mean it,” he insisted, even as he reached down to grip Gintoki’s hair.
Gintoki’s mouth was a little busy, but he still felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I know,” he said. Or tried to say, at least.
“Huh?” Hijikata panted. “Wait, don’t stop, don’t—fuck, do that again, Gintoki, fuck—”
Gintoki pulled off instead. “After I blow you, can we go back to your room? And maybe have sex again?”
Hijikata’s body was wracked with tremors. He fixed Gintoki with an unsteady look. “What? Sure, yeah. Wait, didn’t you have a headache?”
“It went away,” Gintoki lied. “You should probably still buy me breakfast later, though, as a reward.”
Hijikata scoffed. “Are you a dog or my boyfriend? But fine, whatever.”
Gintoki eyed him fixedly. “Oh?”
Hijikata frowned, uncomprehending, but a second later his eyes widened slightly. He shook his head in exasperation. “Okay, you got me. I guess it doesn’t matter that much; either way you’re pathetic.”
Gintoki clutched his chest, feigning hurt. “Just for that, I’m going to give you a subpar blowjob.”
Hijikata snorted. “As if you could. Go on, then—get to work.”
Gintoki would have to lie again to say that didn’t give him a warm feeling in his chest. It’s not like sucking dick was all that difficult, but knowing Hijikata put his trust in him about this made him wonder what else he might trust him with in the future. Quite a lot, he had the feeling, if he played his cards right. And hey, he was more than decent at cards, even if luck rarely favored him in pachinko.
Gintoki used the tip of his tongue to tease his cockhead. Hijikata sent a half-hearted glare toward him.
"I thought you were getting on with it," he said dryly.
“I have a process. Get used to it,” Gintoki advised, now reaching down to toy with his balls. “You’re probably stuck with me.”
“Too bad,” Hijikata breathed. He yanked Gintoki up, not so gently, to claim his dirty mouth.
Gintoki was never going to finish this goddamn blowjob, huh?