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Hijikata Toshiro was not a heavy drinker. He did drink, on occasion. During parties when the atmosphere called for it or after a long hard day at work, but almost never to excess and definitely never enough to cause temporary amnesia. Such a thing simply never appealed to him.
So, when he woke up to find himself sharing a futon with the bane of his existence, the single most irritating man in all of kabukicho, Sakata Gintoki, he could not blame it on how much he’d had to drink. He wished he could claim he didn’t remember how he got there or didn’t understand how the events of the previous night played out and ended up with them both wearing nothing but the blanket they were currently fighting over.
But he hadn't had a drink in a week and a half.
“Toshi, if you’re gonna keep squirming away at least let me have the blanket. It’s so cold.” Gintoki grumbled, strangely at ease with their current situation. His casual demeanor grated at Hijikata’s already frayed nerves.
He tugged the blanket tighter around himself. “Who gave you permission to call me that? I’ll have their head on a pike.”
“You did. Yesterday. When you pushed me against a wall and had your way with me.”
“Shut it.” Hijikata kicked the blanket aside sat up to look for his pack of cigarettes. After a moment of consideration, he pulled them all out of the fresh carton and stuffed them into his mouth.
“You are not smoking in my house.” Gintoki said firmly, burrowing into the pre-warmed blanket with a satisfied groan. “Your lung cancer is your problem but I can't afford the medical bills if the kids get it.”
The vice-commander grumbled around his fistfull of cigarettes and pulled a kimono on. If he had to go outside to smoke, fine. But he needed to smoke.
“And don’t let Kagura see you. She’s been imitating grown-ups a lot lately.”
“Fucking fine.” He grunted, shoving his cigarettes back into their carton and up his sleeve. He threw the door open.
“Morning, Hijikata!” The little amanto girl he assumed was named Kagura chirped from the sofa. “Want breakfast? We only have enough for three but Gin-chan can starve for all I care.”
The kid with the glasses smiled apologetically. “It's not much, just egg on rice. Kagura’s in charge of breakfast on Wednesdays.”
Hijikata wasn't hungry and he was sure there wouldn't be any mayo in the house. But he’d seen what the amanto girl was capable of and didn’t want to offend her. Half of his job was just cleaning up the rubble she left behind when she got offended. So he took a seat on the unoccupied sofa and filled an empty bowl with rice. “Ah. Thank you. You... wouldn't have any mayo, would you?”
Kagura’s face went blank and cold. “Is my cooking not good enough for you, mayo-head?”
“No, no it’s fine! I just find that mayonnaise brings out the natural flavor in anything.” He frantically tried to placate the little monster, taking large bites of the overcooked rice and raw egg to prove that he was enjoying it.
The over-sized glasses hanger elbowed her and Hijikata braced himself for the worst. “Don’t scare him off, Kagura. He’s new here.”
“Why shouldn’t I have fun with Gin-chan’s new boyfriend? Everyone knows relationships are best in the first week.” Kagura pouted into her breakfast like a scolded child.
“Who said that? I’ll have their head on a pike!” It was one night. One. Night. No one ever mentioned the B-word. Or the R-word. Or… many words at all, really.
“Cosmopolitan magazine!” A magazine?! Did a reporter spot them in the way here? What’s next? Nudes on the 5 o’clock news? “Otae-chan reads the fashion tips with me, but I like to peek at the relationship advice when she's not looking.”
Hijikata breathed a sigh of relief. He needed a smoke badly.
Glasses gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re wearing his kimono.”
He looked down and sure enough, he was wrapped in the tacky blue and white monstrosity Gintoki always had slung over his shoulder like a security blanket. “I-uh… my clothes were wet- Soaked, actually. With blood... S-so I... Borrowed it.”
The two gave him identical knowing smirks. He sunk just a little further into the couch cushions. He hadn’t been this nervous since middle school.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Kagura saluted, mockingly.
Shinpachi sprinkled some salt on his rice. “This is kabukicho, Hijikata-san. Nothing surprises us. We already know about Gin-san-”
“No straight man shows that much cleavage in this day and age.” Kagura chimed in from the sidelines.
“and Kyuubei-”
“Who always appears in every opening theme flying through the air with otae-chan. Honestly, how much gayer can you get.”
“and Katsura.”
That seemed to trip up Kagura’s running commentary. “Huh? What’s Zura’s deal?”
“Who even knows, but it's gotta be weird.” Shinpachi clarified with an exasperated expression. After years of pursuing the criminal, it seemed that the only way the terrorist had gotten by was by being too incomprehensibly stupid to get caught. He was glad the rest of the world found him as confusing as Hijikata did but a little pissed to be put in the same category as him/
“What we’re trying to say is, we don't mind that you're a man. We’re just glad that you're probably not a stalker.” Shinpachi concluded, a dopey smile on his face. He should really talk to Kondo some time about his hobbies. Namely the possibility of finding one.
“And you wear those fancy uniforms all the time, so you must be rich!” Kagura chirped happily, eyes big and round like marbles.
A door slid open, revealing a groggy, dead-eyed Gintoki. “Toshi. Gimme my kimono back before you stink it up with your smoking.”
“Stink it up? It already reeks of alcohol and failure.” Hijikata growled, causing the younger half of the room to erupt in laughter. Despite his insult, he set his bowl aside and headed for the back room.
“Yeah? Well, your face is… stupid.” Gintoki shot back pathetically as held the door open, earning groans from their audience.
As he slid the door closed again, Kagura shouted at them. “Love has made you weak, Gin-chan!”
“That girl should really start watching more Shojo anime or something.” He grumbled with his hand buried in his hair. He tossed a sensible dark blue kimono at Hijikata and turned towards the closet to put together his own outfit for the day, but continued talking over his shoulder. “Ya doin’ alright? You look a little… uh y’know…”
“Upset? In shock?” Hijikata suggested as he turned his back to change. “Traumatized?”
“Traumatized? Was I that bad?” Gintoki squeaked, tripping over his own pant leg. “I mean, I know I’m out of practice but-.”
“No, no. I just… I always thought I’d settle down eventually. Meet a nice girl. Start a family or whatever. Because… that’s what people do. That's how it's supposed to be. I thought I was just too focused on my job to find a woman. But that was never it, was it?” He shrugged on his kimono as though on autopilot, staring vacantly at the far wall. “I’ll never find a woman more important than the work because it was never about the work… Okita will definitely find ways to use this against me.” With that realization, dread flooded his mind, making his stomach turn and his head spin. The little sadist would surely release it to the press. He could see the headlines now. Okita wasn’t one to do things half-way, wither. There’d be pictures. Probably on billboards. He’d lose his job. Kondo wouldn’t want to let him go because of this. That gorilla does more scandalous things over breakfast, but with all of the media uproar, he’d have no choice. In a week the legendary demon vice-commander would be sharing a box with that madao. He needed a cigarette so fucking bad.
“You do realize Soichiro-kun’s been trying to set us up for months now, right?” Gintoki said with a tired chuckle. “You now, I never had the luxury of a sexuality crisis. I never had a future to worry about or expectations for it either. I just thought I was going to die alone. Then I thought it’d be better to die with my comrades. Then we all got lost on the way and I decided ‘why not live?’ and here I am. And here you are.”
Hijikata turned to find Gintoki gazing fondly at him as he did up his shirt. His stomach flipped in a way he hadn’t yet become used to and didn’t think he ever would. His mouth twitched in a way that couldn’t be a smile because his mouth literally did not have the muscles to form a smile. To keep his mouth from trying too hard and injuring something, he wrapped it around the words 'why not live' a few times. It felt solid. Simple.
Whatever this feeling in his stomach was. Whatever madness had overcome him last night. Whatever this thing was between them... it felt a lot like living. It was a lot more real than just some vague idea of how his life should play out.
“Gintoki.” He mumbled as he walked to the door.
The samurai hummed in response as he picked his kimono off the floor where Hijikata had dropped it.
“You… fight good.”