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Hijikata’s phone beeps its tinny default ringtone from his pocket. He checks the screen before accepting the call. “Yorozuya,” he says by way of greeting. Gintoki doesn’t say hello. For a few long seconds, he doesn’t say anything at all. He just pants into the phone, his breathing ragged. “Yorozuya?” Hijikata says again, concern leaking into his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t come over,” Gintoki says. His voice is raspy, but not like he has a cold. There’s something to his tone that raises a flush in Hijikata’s cheeks. “It’s not safe to be around me right now.”
“What?”
“Just don’t come over, okay? And if Kagura and Shinpachi come by asking for help, keep an eye on them at your headquarters. I sent them to Otae’s, but I don’t know if they went. Stay where you are. Stay really far away from me.”
“Yorozuya. Gintoki. Talk to me. Tell me what’s happening.”
Another long pause. Another handful of labored breaths. Then Gintoki says, “I got drugged.”
“What?” Hijikata shouts into the phone.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m fine,” Gintoki says. It is potentially the most infuriating thing Hijikata has ever heard.
“You obviously aren’t. What kind of drug was it? What did it do to you?”
Yet another pause. “I don’t want to say,” Gintoki answers. “It’s embarrassing.”
“If you have time to worry about getting embarrassed, it must not be that bad.” Hijikata expects Gintoki to complain about Hijikata’s cold treatment. Ideally, whatever quip he comes back with will include some clues about his symptoms. But he barely says anything at all.
“Yeah,” he says, and just that one word is so strained that Hijikata feels sick. “It’s not bad, so don’t come.”
“I’m coming over,” Hijikata says, immediately taking a step in the direction of the Yorozuya.
“Don’t.” Gintoki’s voice is so sharp that it brings Hijikata to a stop. “I’m serious. If you want to help, just… Stay on the line for a bit. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice.”
“What should I say?”
“Anything. Tell me your last patrol route, I don’t care. Just talk.”
Hijikata starts listing off street names and turns and, when he realizes how boring that is, throws in details about the people he saw around town. There was a man carrying a truly impressive amount of lumber on his back, a woman selling bouquets of flowers, a little boy walking a big dog. There was Okita taking a nap in the middle of his patrol route, and when Hijikata finally got back to headquarters, there was a full blown volleyball tournament happening in the courtyard for some reason. “Kondo-san’s team won, I guess?” he concludes, his throat feeling the effects of talking this much all at once. “Did that help, Yorozuya?”
Gintoki says nothing. He’s said nothing the whole time. He just keeps breathing heavily and making unidentifiable rustling sounds on the other end of the line.
“Yorozuya. I know you’re still there.”
“Yeah,” Gintoki says, his voice tense. “Yeah, I’m here. Just—keep calling out for me, will you?”
“Yorozuya,” Hijikata says. He says it again and again and again until Gintoki lets out a trademark groan. Hijikata’s face goes bright red in an instant. “Have you been jerking off this whole time?!”
“Yeah,” Gintoki says, and this time he sounds breathless. “Yeah, sorry. I thought it would help.”
“Help with what?” Hijikata asks.
He gets no answer. Gintoki just says, “I should go. This isn’t working. Don’t come over, Hijikata.” And then he hangs up without even saying goodbye.
Hijikata stands in his room, torn between distress over being used as masturbation material and utter confusion over the knowledge that that had to be some of the worst phone sex performed in the history of the world. Once he’s past his shock, he hears Gintoki’s words ringing in his head again. Don’t come over.
Well, Gintoki can’t tell him what to do. Hijikata pulls on his uniform jacket and sets out for Yorozuya Gin-chan. Once he reaches the building, he stomps up the stairs, sets his finger on the doorbell, and pushes it as many times as he can.
“Oi, Yorozuya,” Hijikata says. “Let me in.”
“I told you to stay away,” Gintoki says. He’s half shouting, but from a few feet back, which means he’s not close enough for Hijikata to punch through the paper screens on the door to throttle Gintoki without even having to step inside. Hijikata will have to wait until Gintoki opens the door for that. Or…
“Let me in, or I’ll kick down the door.”
“That’s abuse of power.”
“Call it whatever you want. If you don’t open this door in ten seconds, I’m going to break it down.” Hijikata pulls violently on the handle, testing the integrity of the lock. It seems pretty flimsy. He could probably snap it just by pulling a little harder.
“I want you to leave.” Gintoki isn’t very convincing. His voice is shaking, and Hijikata can tell that he’s taken a step closer to the door.
“Yorozuya,” Hijikata says. “I’m coming in. You can leave the door locked, but I’m coming inside.”
A pause. Then Gintoki says, “Fine. But I warned you. I won’t be held responsible for what happens once you’re in here.” The door clicks open.
Hijikata manages to take half a step inside before Gintoki pins him to the wall, shoving him so hard that Hijikata’s head bounces off the plaster. It instantly sets Hijikata on high alert. Gintoki is pushy, sure, but he’s usually more careful than this. He also doesn’t usually have his dick out before Hijikata’s even in the building, but Hijikata caught a flash of Gintoki’s straining erection before Gintoki pressed him up against the wall. Even if he hadn’t, Gintoki is stroking himself now, the sound of his palm moving slickly across his shaft unmistakeable. Gintoki buries his face in Hijikata’s neck and inhales deeply, letting out a groan of satisfaction as he jerks himself off.
“What kind of weird drug—”
“Aphrodisiac,” Gintoki interrupts, panting into Hijikata’s ear. “Some Amanto sprayed me with it. I don’t know how long it’ll last. Fuck, Hijikata, you smell incredible.”
Hijikata takes a moment to process this. On one hand, it’s the only explanation for how weirdly horny Gintoki’s been today, so maybe he should have seen it coming. On the other hand, he has no idea what to do about it. It would be easy just to let Gintoki keep rutting up against him until his symptoms pass, but that’s only assuming that the effects aren’t long-lasting. If Gintoki’s worried enough to have sent the kids away and tried keeping Hijikata out of the house, it must be fairly strong.
Besides, Hijikata still isn’t into being a passive partner, even if he only barely understands how to have sex with another person. “Should I take over?” he asks, wrapping his hand loosely around Gintoki’s as he strokes himself. “Or—you said on the phone that it didn’t help. What do you need instead?”
“Can I borrow your dick?” Gintoki asks immediately. Hijikata almost laughs, but Gintoki keeps talking, and the desperate edge to his voice chases the humor out of him. “It’s not enough by myself. I need—I need you.”
“Let’s go to bed,” Hijikata says. He strips on the way, tossing his uniform jacket on the couch, his vest on the desk, his shirt and necktie on the floor of the bedroom. He leaves his pants on, the one crutch he allows himself when it comes to sex with Gintoki. Hijikata unzips his pants and tugs his dick out, spitting on his palm before taking himself in hand.
“Let me do it,” Gintoki says, and he pushes Hijikata down onto the futon. He opens his mouth, and then his hot, wet tongue is running up the length of Hijikata’s shaft, and Hijikata is biting back a gasp. Gintoki takes Hijikata’s soft cock into his mouth and runs his tongue around the head until Hijikata’s blood rushes into his groin. It’s kind of an aggressive blowjob, but Hijikata doesn’t mind the little scrapes of teeth against his shaft. He’s busy watching Gintoki hollow out his cheeks to suck on the head.
Gintoki only pauses once. He grabs a bottle of lube off the floor and pours some onto his fingers, rubbing his thumb against them to spread it around before he resumes sucking Hijikata off. Gintoki stretches his arm behind himself, sliding his fingers into his own ass so he can work himself open. Hijikata wishes he could kiss him, but he doesn’t think that’s the kind of oral stimulation Gintoki needs right now.
Hijikata doesn’t know much about anal sex, but even he can tell that Gintoki rushes the preparation. He has a distinct recollection that it took longer than this the first time Gintoki got ready to ride him, but Gintoki’s cock looks so painfully hard that Hijikata keeps his mouth shut. It’s not up to him to decide what Gintoki “should” be doing when he’s been fucking drugged. Gintoki lets Hijikata’s dick fall from his mouth and positions his ass over it instead. Hijikata takes a deep breath to ready himself for it.
It’s tight enough to be uncomfortable for Hijikata, so he doesn’t doubt that it’s more like painful for Gintoki. Still, Gintoki lets out this sound of relief as he sinks down onto Hijikata’s cock. He starts bouncing in earnest, stroking himself frantically as he rides Hijikata. Hijikata puts his hands on Gintoki’s waist, letting his arms rise and fall as Gintoki moves.
Gintoki comes surprisingly quickly, a burst of cum splattering onto Hijikata’s stomach. The rest dribbles out over Gintoki’s fingers where they’re still fisted around his cock. Hijikata runs his own fingers through the mess on his stomach. It’s thinner than Gintoki’s cum usually is, and that worries him. If it can even affect the texture of his semen, what else can this drug do? But then Gintoki is getting to his feet, Hijikata’s cock sliding out of him. He stumbles backwards, his eyes wild with panic.
He’s still hard. He came, but his dick is still rock hard and leaking like they didn’t do anything at all. Hijikata stands too, closing the distance between them. He lays his hand on Gintoki’s arm.
“It’s not enough,” Gintoki says, his face falling. He sounds more distraught than Hijikata has ever heard him. “It’s not enough, it’s not enough. What do I do? What do I…” His voice fades out to nothing. Gintoki swallows and shakes his head. “No. No, we shouldn’t have tried to do it this way. You need to go home, and I need to jack off until my hand falls off or something.”
“Wouldn’t sex be better than masturbation?” Hijikata moves his hand from Gintoki’s arm to his waist, but Gintoki shoves him away. Hijikata takes a step back, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.
“No, you need to go.”
Gintoki’s insistence is so suspicious that Hijikata can’t stop the gears in his brain from whirring at max speed. “Oh,” he says after a minute. “Sex like this isn’t better than masturbation. You need to fuck me, don’t you?”
Gintoki does not meet his eyes. He taps his fingers rapidly against his own thigh, his dick red and dripping pre-cum. It looks like it hurts. Hijikata makes up his mind instantly, without sparing a single thought for the consequences. He takes off his pants and… and pauses. He doesn’t know what he should do. Bend over? That seems extreme.
“Wh… What are you doing?” Gintoki asks.
“What do you think?” Hijikata asks back. “I got naked so you can fuck me.”
“No.” Gintoki’s voice cracks on the word, but his dick twitches at the thought. That settles it. Hijikata swallows his pride, stands with his legs shoulder length apart, and bends at the waist. He looks back at Gintoki, waiting for him to take the bait.
Gintoki holds himself incredibly still. Then he curls his hands into fists at his side, his whole body trembling with the effort not to move. It’s admirable and all that, but Hijikata doesn’t need Gintoki to be courteous right now. He needs Gintoki not to be drugged anymore. Hijikata reaches behind himself, tugging at one of his ass cheeks to expose his hole. Gintoki gulps audibly.
“Quit babying me,” Hijikata says. “Just get over here and fuck me already.”
“But you didn’t like it,” Gintoki says. “We tried fingers and you didn’t like it. You’re not gonna like this.”
“That’s not important. What’s important right now is making sure you feel better.”
“What if you hate it?” Gintoki asks. Then, his voice growing smaller and more fearful, “What if you hate me?”
That shocks Hijikata so much that he stands back up. “What kind of bullshit are you talking over there? It’s not like you’re some random guy. I’m not going to hate you. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone. I would only do this for you. No, listen to me, Yorozuya,” Hijikata says when Gintoki opens his mouth. “You need this, so I’m doing it for you. If I have to push you down and ride you to make it happen, I will. But you know I don’t know how to do that, so I know you won’t make me.”
“I don’t have any condoms,” Gintoki says. “I didn’t stock up because we haven’t been—”
“I don’t care,” Hijikata says. “Come inside me if you have to.”
Gintoki sucks in a sharp breath. He squeezes his eyes shut, his hands balling themselves into tight fists at his sides. “I don’t want to do it this way,” he says. “I had a whole plan for your first time, if you ever wanted it.”
“We’ll improvise,” Hijikata says. “You’re good at that.”
Gintoki runs out of excuses. He stands just behind Hijikata, close enough for Hijikata’s skin to prickle at the proximity. The lube is in Gintoki’s hand again. He pours it onto the fingers of his right hand, then places his left on Hijikata’s hip. Hijikata can feel him trembling. In response, Hijikata holds himself still. If Gintoki is anxious, then Hijikata can’t allow himself to be.
The tip of Gintoki’s finger feels blunt against his hole. Hijikata grits his teeth against the intrusion. He knows he’s too tense, knows that isn’t helping his discomfort, but he can’t force himself to relax. Gintoki pushes his finger in to the second knuckle, then pauses.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“Keep going,” Hijikata says instead of answering. The line between discomfort and pain is thin, and Hijikata isn’t sure which side of it he’s on. What he does know is that Gintoki needs to fuck him more than Hijikata needs to be comfortable. So they’re going to keep going, and there’s no question about it.
Gintoki crooks his finger and thrusts it a few times. Hijikata’s breath catches in his throat. This is the part that feels good, but not so good that he forgets the pain. Gintoki carefully inserts a second finger and scissors them.
It’s different from the last time. Gintoki had taken it almost too slowly then, spending long minutes getting Hijikata used to each finger before adding another. Now Gintoki works him open with brisk movements, pushing Hijikata physically in a way he never has before. It sets Hijikata’s nerves on edge more than he’d like to admit. In some ways, he doesn’t recognize the man the drug has turned Gintoki into. It makes his touch feel unfamiliar, and suddenly Hijikata needs to look at Gintoki’s face, to remind himself that it’s still the Gintoki he knows and trusts.
“I want to do it facing you,” he says, blushing at his own words. Gintoki takes his fingers out, but before Hijikata can turn around, Gintoki physically throws him onto the bed. He hits the futon harder than he expects, the impact startling the air out of Hijikata’s lungs. But Gintoki doesn’t even notice. He’s slotting himself between Hijikata’s legs, pushing them apart with his body and sliding his fingers back into Hijikata’s hole. Hijikata winces. He’s added a third finger. He curls them against Hijikata’s inner walls, then spreads them to stretch Hijikata open. Hijikata breathes through the sensation.
When Gintoki finally pushes his dick inside, he outright whimpers with relief. It’s hard to listen to. Hijikata hopes he will never hear anything that desperate and painful come out of Gintoki’s mouth again. Gintoki takes a beat to get used to the sensation, and those few seconds are all the time Hijikata has to ready himself before Gintoki grips his hips and starts thrusting. He sets a breakneck pace, his hips snapping painfully into Hijikata’s. Hijikata clenches his fists, willing himself to channel the tension in his body out of his lower half and into his hands. He can feel his nails digging painfully into his palms. He can feel the stretch of his body around Gintoki’s cock. He can feel the dread growing in his heart.
The worst part is that Gintoki isn’t even looking at him. His eyes are half-closed in concentration, and he never looks any higher than Hijikata’s chest. His hair falls over his face, casting sharp shadows over Gintoki’s eyes.
“Yorozuya,” Hijikata says. Gintoki ignores him. “Yorozuya,” Hijikata tries again. Again, he gets no response. He swallows around a sudden lump of fear in his throat. “Gintoki,” Hijikata says, his voice trembling.
Gintoki’s head snaps up to look him in the eye. Hijikata watches as the realization sets in on Gintoki’s face, followed quickly by horror. He brings his hips to a juddering halt, but it’s obvious how much effort it takes him to stop thrusting. “Sorry,” he says, chewing on his lip. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Hijikata says. “Keep going. I just wanted you to look at me.”
Gintoki leans in to kiss him. Hijikata only gets to feel his mouth for a few quick seconds, and then it’s over. Hijikata licks his lips, wishing he could taste Gintoki’s tongue.
Gintoki starts moving his hips again, and it’s obvious how much effort he’s putting into keeping the pace slower than before. It’s equally obvious that it isn’t working. The tempo of his thrusts creeps higher and higher, but he moves his hands so he can put one palm against Hijikata’s cheek. Hijikata keeps his expression carefully neutral, tamping down his instincts to wince or frown at the sensation. It’s easier than he thought it would be. Gintoki is looking at him now, and Hijikata is looking back at him, and he’s not going to let Gintoki see anything that would make him feel bad for continuing.
Hijikata’s dick is hard. It’s been hard since Gintoki sucked him off, but he doesn’t feel like he’s getting any closer to climax. That would probably bother him if he was a different kind of person, if he was in this for his own release. For better or worse, he is the way he is, and he’s perfectly content to be the outlet Gintoki needs. If Hijikata comes, he comes. He’s not particularly bothered over if or when it happens.
But Gintoki is clearly desperate for it. His thrusts become frantic, his body moving out of time with its own rhythm, and then he’s coming inside Hijikata for the first time. The sensation is… kind of gross, actually. It’s too wet and too warm and Hijikata doesn’t understand why anyone would like this.
It’s not the semen inside him that freaks Hijikata out, though; it’s the fact that Gintoki is still just as hard as he was when Hijikata first came to the building. Even this must not have given Gintoki any real relief, because he keeps fucking Hijikata without slowing down for more than half a minute. His breath comes out choked and wet and Hijikata looks up at him, shocked out of his crafted neutrality.
“I’m sorry, Hijikata,” Gintoki says. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He’s crying, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. Hijikata reaches up to wipe them away. He keeps his thumbs on Gintoki’s cheeks, catching each tear that falls. It swiftly becomes too painful to look at him like this, to see Gintoki weeping silently and know he can’t stop the tears just with his touch. Hijikata pulls Gintoki in for a kiss.
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” Hijikata says. “You didn’t choose this, I did. It’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m still sorry.” Gintoki’s tears land on Hijikata’s face.
“I know,” Hijikata says, and he kisses him again.
“I can’t stop,” Gintoki says, and his voice shakes. Hijikata doesn’t like that Gintoki is afraid. The only things Gintoki should be scared of are ghosts and the wrath of his landlady.
“I’m not asking you to.”
“But you don’t even like it.” His words drip with self-loathing and disgust. Hijikata’s chest clenches. He lifts his hand to Gintoki’s face, making his touch as gentle as he can.
“Neither do you,” Hijikata says. “I hate to break it to you, Yorozuya, but this isn’t about what either of us likes or wants.”
“I made you break your promise.”
“What?”
“I made you promise not to do anything you didn’t like. And then I made you break that promise.”
“It’s not— This doesn’t count, Yorozuya.”
Gintoki drops his head onto Hijikata’s chest. “I wanted your first time to be good,” he says. “I was going to make it so good for you, Hijikata. You have to believe me.”
“I don’t mind that it’s gotten all fucked up. It’s still with you.”
Gintoki takes a beat to let Hijikata’s words sink in. Then he presses his lips to Hijikata’s skin, dropping kisses on his sternum and his collarbone and his neck. Gintoki leaves his head there, his hair tickling Hijikata’s cheek.
The heat of Gintoki’s breath on his skin goes straight to Hijikata’s dick, helped along the way by the sound of Gintoki panting and groaning right into his ear. Hijikata has learned through their encounters to take advantage of any time his body grants him proper sexual pleasure, so he leans into it. With some effort, he slides his arm between his and Gintoki’s torsos to grasp his own dick, stroking himself in time with Gintoki’s thrusts. He concentrates on the way Gintoki’s cock brushes against his prostate. After a couple long minutes, Hijikata comes, splattering semen between their stomachs.
It turns out to be a mistake. The orgasm feels nice, as it always does, but it leaves him too sensitive to Gintoki’s near-brutal pace. Hijikata can feel tears gathering in his eyes until he can’t hold them back anymore. As soon as the first tear falls down his face, Hijikata’s mental shield crumbles. Suddenly all of his thoughts are funneled into unpleasant sensations, like the way he’s too tight and it’s a little too dry and how he just doesn’t like sex like this.
He allows himself only a moment of self-pity before he shakes it off. This isn’t about him, and he knows it. Fortunately, Gintoki doesn’t appear to notice Hijikata’s brief weakness. Hijikata schools his face back into its neutral expression, ignoring the tears that still spill onto his face every once in a while. He can’t control his tear ducts, and he can’t help being overstimulated.
Gintoki’s third orgasm with Hijikata is much like the first two. He comes with his eyes closed and his teeth bared, and still his cock doesn’t go soft. Hijikata feels so full—full of Gintoki’s hot, hard dick and his warm, wet cum. He blinks another tear out, and Gintoki presses his tongue to Hijikata’s cheek, licking it off.
“This is really bad for you, isn’t it?” Gintoki says.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s really not.”
“It is. I don’t dislike having sex with you, and I gave you permission. Don’t stop just for me.” It may be uncomfortable to the point of painful, and it may be exhausting to have this much sex all at once, but Hijikata knows he’s nowhere near his breaking point, and the drug is still strong in Gintoki’s veins.
“When it’s too much for you,” Gintoki says, and Hijikata notices that he says when and not if, “I want you to tell me.”
“I don’t want you to stop until whatever fucked up Amanto drug you got hit with is out of your system,” Hijikata replies. “That’s an order.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hijikata says loftily. “As the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi special police, I outrank the president of a crappy little three-person company. You’ve got to listen to what I say anyway.”
Gintoki chuckles. It’s quick to end, but it feels like it’s been forever since Hijikata heard him laugh. He clings to the sound, tucking it away in his chest as Gintoki reluctantly resumes thrusting.
They fuck for hours after that, and Gintoki’s dick never goes soft the entire time. It stops hurting Hijikata after a while, even though the pain isn’t necessarily replaced with pleasure. The biggest problem is that it goes on forever. It’s too much for Hijikata. He tries to be mentally present, to be there if Gintoki needs him, but the drug and the tight grip of Hijikata’s hole around Gintoki’s cock have reduced Gintoki to a hedonistic beast. As the day turns into night turns into morning, Hijikata lets himself drop in and out of consciousness while Gintoki fucks him.
Gintoki shakes him awake the first time he passes out. Gintoki’s panicked face greets him when Hijikata opens his eyes again. Hijikata lifts a clumsy hand and lays it against Gintoki’s cheek. “Keep going,” he says.
“I don’t want to,” Gintoki replies. “It’s hurting you.”
“But it’s what you need,” Hijikata says, and they both know that it’s true. “Don’t worry about me. You can take what you need, whether I’m awake for it or not.”
“If you take care of all your men this well, I can see why the Shinsengumi is so head over heels for you.”
Hijikata pushes a loose fist against Gintoki’s shoulder in a gesture that’s supposed to be a punch. “Idiot. You obviously get special treatment.”
And then Gintoki resumes thrusting, and all Hijikata can remember is getting pounded within an inch of his life before he falls asleep again. He wakes a few more times, but never for long, or maybe he just forgets. There’s the time he finds himself on his stomach instead of his back, with Gintoki sinking his teeth into Hijikata’s shoulder as he fucks him. There’s the time Gintoki strokes him to completion, and Hijikata is awake just long enough to know that Gintoki pumps him so full of cum that it spills out onto the sheets. There’s the time that Hijikata opens his eyes and is shocked to find the dim light of early dawn filling the room, the quiet song of birds audible over Gintoki’s grunts.
When he wakes up for real, the sun sits high in the sky, and the birds aren’t even chirping anymore. Hijikata never wakes up this late. He moves slowly, his body aching, but he’s pleasantly surprised to find that he’s been wiped clean of sweat and other bodily fluids. Gintoki sits in bed beside him, leaning against the headboard, looking out the window. His hand rests lightly on the top of Hijikata’s head.
“What time is it?” Hijikata asks.
“Early afternoon,” Gintoki says. He doesn’t look at Hijikata. “I’ll make you a late lunch.”
“Have you eaten? Have you even slept?” Gintoki doesn’t answer. He keeps his face turned toward the window. Hijikata fights the ache in his lower back and sits up. He grabs Gintoki by the shoulders, turning him so he can get a look at Gintoki’s face.
He’s not crying, but his eyes are red and puffy, and there are tear tracks all down his face. Gintoki rubs at his cheeks, not meeting Hijikata’s gaze. “I’m fine,” he says, but he obviously isn’t. There’s something in his downcast eyes that Hijikata has never seen before, something he can’t quite identify. It’s irritating not to know what it is. “Are you? How are you feeling?”
Wrecked, but Hijikata isn’t going to say that. “I feel refreshed,” he lies. “I had more orgasms than I’ve ever had in my life, and then I slept, so I’m well rested. You should rest too. I know you’ve just been sitting up awake.”
“I’m fine,” Gintoki says again. “I’ll go make lunch.” He casts the covers aside, but Hijikata grabs him before his feet hit the ground.
“Stay in bed with me,” he says.
Gintoki opens his mouth to protest, but no words come out. Eventually he gives up and pulls the covers back over his legs. “I’m sorry, Hijikata,” he says. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
It’s shame, Hijikata realizes with a start. The unfamiliar shadows on Gintoki’s face and in his eyes are shame. He’s seen Gintoki guilty before, but never ashamed. He doesn’t like it. He likes Gintoki brash, wildly reckless, and desperately tender. He doesn’t know what to do with Gintoki like this. He doesn’t know how to make him feel better. He says what he can, even though he knows it won’t be enough.
“You don’t have to keep apologizing. You don’t have to apologize at all. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
Gintoki runs his fingertips along Hijikata’s arm. His touch is gentle, like a kiss of wind, like Hijikata is on the verge of breaking. Hijikata grabs Gintoki’s hand and presses it hard against his own chest.
“I’m alright,” he insists. Gintoki’s eyes flit from Hijikata’s face to his hand like he can’t bear to look at either for longer than a second, but he doesn’t want to look away. “Gintoki. I’m fine.”
“You said my name again,” Gintoki says. His voice is full of muted happiness and barely hidden guilt. It’s not what Hijikata wants to hear. He launches into a sort of tirade, heavy words spilling out of him before he even thinks about them.
“I think you’re misunderstanding something about me. Something about us. I don’t care that you fucked me, I don’t care that it lasted until sunrise, I don’t even care that I didn’t like the way it felt most of the time. I care that you feel better now. I care that I got to help you through something for once instead of it being the other way around. You always give me everything I need. Always. And I never get to give you everything you need. So you don’t have to worry about this, okay? It’s just my half of a trade.”
Gintoki’s hand twitches on his chest, fingers curling lightly against Hijikata’s skin. “Is that what you really think?” he asks, a hairline fracture in his voice. “That you’re not everything I need?”
“How can I be?” With a body like his, with desires like his. It isn’t bad, but it isn’t a perfect fit, either.
Gintoki takes a shaky breath. His hand trembles in Hijikata’s grasp. Hijikata grips him harder.
“You give so much of yourself to me. I know how much you push yourself to be what you think I want. Do you think I don’t see that? That I don’t know how much that means?”
“It doesn’t mean anyth—”
“Hijikata. It’s everything.” And suddenly Gintoki’s hands are clasped around Hijikata’s, squeezing tightly enough for Hijikata’s flesh to glow white. “I don’t need anything that you’re not happy to give. I don’t need you to push yourself. I don’t need you to want everything I want. I don’t even want you to want everything I do. We’ve got enough icky similarities as it is.” Hijikata snorts. Gintoki smiles. “I care about you. And I know you care about me too. There’s nothing else that matters.”
Hijikata leans his forehead against Gintoki’s and closes his eyes. When he’s ready, when their breaths have slowed to the same steady rhythm, Hijikata presses his lips to Gintoki’s. “You’re good to me, you know that?” he says.
“I want to treat you right,” Gintoki replies. “I didn’t manage it this time, but it’s important to me. You’re important to me.”
Hijikata strokes Gintoki’s cheek with his thumb. He’s just leaning in for another kiss when his stomach grumbles with all the subtlety of a train horn. Irritated at the lack of total control over his body, Hijikata pulls back. “I’ll forgive you if lunch is good.”
He wishes Gintoki would grin his stupid, shit-eating grin at him, but Gintoki just gives him a relieved smile. “That’s easy,” he says. “You think anything with enough mayonnaise on it is good, and I’ve got a fresh bottle in the fridge.”
Gintoki heads out to the kitchen, where he throws his pink, frilly apron over his boxers. An absolute cacophony stretches from the kitchen to the bedroom as Gintoki knocks all the pots and pans aside looking for something. In the bedroom, Hijikata does his own search. He can’t find his pants or boxers, and he’s not going to just wander around naked. A teenage girl lives here, even if she’s not here now. He’s got two options for covering himself up. He quickly discards the first idea; he’s not going to wrap himself up in a bedsheet like some ancient Roman concubine. But he can put something else on.
“We’re having yakisoba,” Gintoki says when he hears Hijikata’s footsteps approach. He turns, takes a long look at Hijikata, and swallows loudly. “You… You’re wearing my kimono.”
“I couldn’t find my clothes.”
“They’re in the laundry,” Gintoki says. “I may have, um, stained them while I was under the influence. Sorry. Can we get back to the part where you’re wearing my kimono?”
“What do you want me to do, do a spin?” Hijikata says. “It’s just clothes.” But he knows what he looks like right now, with Gintoki’s kimono loosely tied around him, the front open in a steep V that ends near his belly button.
“Are you… naked under there?”
“You could take it off me and find out,” Hijikata says. He grabs a carrot off the cutting board and takes a loud bite.
Gintoki groans. “You’re seducing me now? After the wildest and longest night of sex you’ve ever had? Have mercy on me, Hijikata. I’m trying to prove I don’t just think with my dick.”
Hijikata takes another bite of the carrot and crunches it noisily. “What else are you gonna think with, though? You don’t have a brain in that empty skull of yours.”
Gintoki throws a broccoli floret at him. It bounces off Hijikata’s chest.
“Aren’t you too poor to be wasting food?” Hijikata asks.
“Argh! You’re right!” Gintoki swoops the piece of broccoli off the floor, rinses it in the sink, and tosses it back into the bowl. “Go away, you’re distracting me with your sexiness and cleavage. I’ll bring the food out when it’s ready.”
Laughing, Hijikata sits down at the table. Several minutes later, Gintoki sets two plates of yakisoba on the table and sits down across from him.
“Where’s the mayo?” Hijikata asks.
“Get your own dog food,” Gintoki says. “You had plenty of time to grab it out of the fridge while I was cooking.”
“You kicked me out of the kitchen.”
“Well, I’m not in there now.”
Hijikata sticks his tongue out at Gintoki before getting up to grab the mayonnaise. There’s only one bottle in the fridge. Gintoki insists that it’s the devil’s condiment and he will not stand to have more than one bottle at a time in his home, which Hijikata would have believed if he hadn’t stumbled on the plastic bag full of mayo bottles stuffed into the back of a kitchen cabinet. He had wondered how Gintoki never seemed to run out. Now Hijikata just smiles to himself and grabs the bottle.
He pipes a thick swirl of mayonnaise over his noodles, covering the dish entirely. Gintoki shakes his head in disgust before squeezing a single thin zigzag of mayo over his own food. “This is how much regular people have on their yakisoba,” Gintoki says, pointing his chopsticks at Hijikata. “You should learn a little restraint.”
“Why? My way’s tastier.”
“Eugh.” Gintoki mimes vomiting, complete with retching sounds. Hijikata ignores him. By the time Gintoki’s done pretending to throw up, Hijikata has eaten a quarter of his meal. “Hey!” Gintoki says. “You were supposed to wait for me to finish my bit.”
“Mayo waits for no man,” Hijikata says. Gintoki flings a slice of carrot at him. It lands precisely in the middle of Hijikata’s forehead.
The food fight that follows is, in Hijikata’s opinion, fairly measured. They only lose a fistful of yakisoba each, and nothing even ends up on the floor because neither of them misses their throws. Gintoki is miraculously able to land each of his tosses on Hijikata’s face, even when he dodges. Gintoki, on the other hand, is still wearing his apron. Those are supposed to get messy, so Hijikata thinks it’s fine for Gintoki’s apron to end up covered in noodles and mayonnaise. When they finish eating, Gintoki takes off his apron and shakes it over the trash can.
“You made me waste food,” Gintoki says forlornly.
“You started it.” Hijikata wipes his face with a damp towel to get all the sauce off it.
Gintoki mumbles some complaint, but he can’t deny it. He grabs their empty plates, puts them in the sink, and grabs a sponge. Hijikata frowns. He comes up behind Gintoki, wrapping his arms around Gintoki’s waist in a gesture so transparent that it surprises even himself. Gintoki squeezes the sponge hard enough for a puff of soap bubbles to fly off.
“Come back to bed,” Hijikata says. “I want to make sure you get some rest.”
“You better still be wearing my kimono when I wake up,” Gintoki grumbles. “I wanna unwrap you like a present.”
“There’s plenty of time for that later. I’ll be here.”
Hijikata leads them back to the bedroom. The futon they fucked in is soaked with all kinds of bodily fluids, so Gintoki hurriedly grabs a spare from the closet and lays it out. Hijikata pulls back the blankets, but before he can lie down, Gintoki grabs his hand.
“Hijikata.” Gintoki’s eyes light up with passion when he says his name. “Thank you. For everything you’ve ever given me, not just last night.”
“I will always be there when you need me.” Hijikata can feel an equally hot flame burning in his own chest. Gintoki smiles softly, looking a little less hurt than before.
“What about when I just want you?” he asks.
Hijikata kisses him, letting his lips linger an extra second against Gintoki’s. “I’ll be there for that, too,” he says. He pulls the covers over them and, after a moment’s hesitation, presses his body against Gintoki’s. Gintoki stiffens, then relaxes. He puts his arms around Hijikata and holds him close.
“You know, I really care about you,” Gintoki says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion. Now that he’s tucked in bed, there’s little standing between him and sleep.
Hijikata raises one hand to stroke Gintoki’s hair. “I know,” he says. And he watches over him as Gintoki falls asleep.