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The hangover feels familiar. As do the regrets about drinking so much. Still, it's quiet. Weirdly quiet, considering it must be morning and there's no food in the house. He should probably get up and check that Kagura hasn't started eating furniture out of desperation. The thought makes him want to stay in his futon. Screw it, she probably won't. He can always buy a new table if she does.
Gintoki stretches out in the futon, preparing to sleep off the headache he can feel thrumming in the front of his head, when his hand smacks something. It's solid, warm and goes 'ow' in response.
Wait. He can't have...he didn't. Did he bring someone home last night? As he frantically rifles through his memory, trying to remember anything that happened last night, he stays completely still. The fact he can't remember is unpromising. He'd remember if anything good happened, surely! There's only one way he can deal with this.
He just has to play dead. Surely they'll just leave if he pretends he's a corpse for long enough. Nobody wants to call the police this early in the morning for a sudden death!
"Oi, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Oh. Oh, shit. He knows that voice. He knows that voice much better than he ever wanted to, and while it's tempting to continue to play dead, it's unlikely to fool its owner. His best chance to escape this with his pride intact is to create some sort of distraction and then run for it. He's not going to wait in his home for him to come back, is he? There's only one way to find out. With a start Gintoki rolls himself out of the futon, landing on the tatami with a thump before scrambling up to his feet.
There's just one mistake with this plan (okay, there's two because he feels queasy after all that rolling around) now that he's opened his eyes: he isn't at home. Since this doesn't look like a love hotel (oh, he is cursing himself for deciding against that last night, even if he really can't afford it this week), the smell of smoke in the air and the sound of feet pounding on wood in the distance, even at dawn, says there's only one place he could be.
He's in Hijikata's room in the Shinsengumi's headquarters. Hijikata is scrambling out of the futon too, looking at him like he's just see a ghost – hah! - pale and uncertain in a way he's never seen him before.
"Yorozuya?" For once, it's not yelled, or spat out like it's a curse word. It's gentle, in a way he'd never expect from Mr Shouty. Hijikata's breath might come out as a cloud in the cold air, but the chill it sends down his spine has nothing to do with the weather.
Weird how his brain decides that this is the moment, finally, to supply a memory from last night. Of reaching out to cup Hijikata's cheeks on the deserted street. They were cold under the palm of his hands, though he was flushed from the sake too. It was so cold out. He'd squeezed them, hard enough to make Hijikata start cursing him before he leaned in and cut off those curses with his mouth.
Oh, no. He'd slipped Hijikata the tongue while he was kissing him. Hijikata had nearly dropped the umbrella they were under, protecting them from the snow the earlier sleet had turned into. Despite that warning, he hadn't stopped until Hijikata pulled away. The taste of sake and cigarettes had lingered in his mouth afterwards. Despite how Hijikata was bawling him out, he'd come up with another great idea and acted on it too. In his defence, he was so drunk that somehow it'd seemed like a good idea at the time! A good idea to purr, like he was some sexy woman looking to get picked up, and ask Hijikata a question that in the cold light of morning, makes him want to die.
'So, are you going to take me home?' Even worse, Hijikata must have agreed. Instead of pointing out he was drunk and acting stupid, Hijikata instead agreed to take him home, because there was no other reason why he would have woken up here.
This is a complete nightmare. There must be something, he needs to say something to break this awkward silence between them before making his escape.
"Ha ha ha, Yorozuya?" It's easier looking away from the strange, unexpectedly open face in front of him. "I wonder who that guy could be. I've never heard of him. I'm sure he's super handsome and cool, much cooler than you, but you're mistaken!" Clothes, where are his clothes? Oh, right there, scattered in a suggestive trail leading right to the futon they'd been sharing. With an awkward laugh he scutters over, starting with his boxers and pulling them on as fast as he could. This isn't a conversation he wants to have while naked.
"Do you seriously expect me to believe that?" Biting on his lip, focusing on putting on his clothes and not looking in his direction at all. Trying to not think about anything but getting dressed, like the fact he'd probably had sex with Hijikata. Why did he decide to wear so many layers? Past him was an idiot! Toughen up! Freeze to death just like a real man does!
"Believe what? I've never heard of Yorozuya." Damn, the zips on these boots are fiddly when his hands are shaking like this. The wobble in his step as he tries to pull them up makes him pause, leaning against the paper door to try to get some assistance to not fall straight onto his ass.
The thump next to him makes him start, and Gintoki nearly topple over before he realises what this is. Kabedon. Seriously? It's not even six am and he's got Hijikata kabedon-ing him? Today sucks. "Aren't you going to take responsibility?" Even in the circumstances, with Hijikata getting far too close to his face for comfort, a snort of laughter escapes him. What the hell, does Hijikata seriously think he's his love interest or something?
"Take responsibility for what?" Hijikata's expression shifts in a way that he recognises. Usually it's a sign that he was about to unleash hell and someone was about to end up dead. Definitely not a look he wants aimed at him right now. He's hungover and really not in the mood for a fight.
"Don't you remember what you said last night?" Ugh. It's a feint, designed to draw him out on what he does, or doesn't, remember. Gintoki has no idea what he said, beyond that invitation, and he's going to be denying that one fact for the rest of his life.
"Uh, something about giving me all your savings? You were really keen on giving me your savings, so hand them over!"
"The hell? How much do you think I get paid?"
"What's this? Are you complaining about your salary as a public servant? It's outrageous! I pay my taxes,"
"You don't even pay taxes!"
"That's because I don't get paid enough! Even if I did, I wouldn't want them to go to you! An idiot like you doesn't deserve to get paid." The arguing doesn't make Hijikata step away to blow up more safely at a distance and let him flee. Oh, no. Hijikata leans in even closer to him instead. The flush on his face at just how close their faces are has nothing to do with how irritatingly good looking Hijikata looks, even when he's snarling like this. He gives Hijikata a shove squarely on the chest. He needs the space.
One miracle (apart from the fact his nausea and headache has been blown away by this turn of events): Hijikata steps back. There's a 'tsk' before Hijikata grabs a cigarette out of a nearby packet, lighting up with that mayonnaise lighter that's appeared out of nowhere. That's impressive, considering he's only in his underwear. Must be a magical power gained from consuming so much mayo.
"You're the idiot, what are you even doing here? Oughta arrest you for breaking into headquarters."
"Breaking in? You invited me!"
"Why the hell would I invite a shaggy haired idiot like you in?" It strikes him that Hijikata doesn't, in fact, seem to remember what happened last night either. It should be a relief. No, it is a relief! Gintoki shoves a kernel of disappointment down into a deep, dark pit where hopefully, it'll stay forever and not bother him again.
"Since I'm an innocent citizen, I'm leaving before you kidnap me and hold me hostage again." Hijikata mutters something that sounds a lot like 'in your dreams', which earns him a roll of Gintoki's eyes before he moves to open the door.
"Don't go out that way, stupid, go out through the garden. Unless you really want to run into Kondou." Gintoki wants to argue, but no, he really doesn't want to run into any gorillas while doing this walk of shame home.
"Fine, but just because I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea and think I'd stoop for a four when I'm an eleven." Hijikata glares at him, and Gintoki recalculates. "A three," the scowl deepens. "Two, max."
"Just get out before I make you leave the earth permanently." With a confidence he absolutely does not feel, Gintoki strides across the room only to be cut off by an umbrella thrust in front of him, blocking his way. "It's going to sleet again. It's not like I care if you get wet or not, but it'd be a nuisance for those kids if you got sick." Uh huh. Gintoki takes the umbrella. The words 'thank you' stick in his throat and can't come out. There's other words behind it that are even stickier.
He walks past Hijikata, umbrella in hand, doesn't stop and doesn't turn back to see the way he's quietly smoking. He doesn't stop until he's out in the deserted street, because of course nobody is out, it's too early and the weather sucks. Despite the cold wind and the drops of rains blowing under the umbrella, Gintoki pauses before crouching down. He needs a moment, just a moment, to think.
Gintoki wouldn't ever admit it, but when he'd been waiting outside the sauna for the rain to pass, he'd been hoping that Hijikata would stop on his way out too. Sure, it'd been annoying that his nice, peaceful afternoon had been disturbed by someone who can never just hold his tongue, but he didn't hate it, either. He'd watched the sleet fall and thought of going home alone, while the heat from both the steam and the arguing drained out of him. The umbrella thrust towards him, and the offer to walk him home took him by surprise. So by surprise that he'd accepted. Of course, he'd suggested they divert by a bar instead of going straight home. He'd told himself it was for a chance to get Hijikata to pay for his drinks, nothing else. Nothing to do about the lingering, fresh smell of Hijikata, just out of the bath and untouched by life.
Gintoki looks up to the grey skies overhead. He should go before it starts raining again. He should get out of this crouch, go home and forget all about this. The ribs of the red umbrella above him draw out another memory before he can.
Hijikata's arm around his waist, guiding him along as he leaned against him. The warmth of each other against the cold night air, a relaxed atmosphere between them that's impossible without the help of the sake they'd shared. The feeling of longing it stirs in him is almost too much. He thinks of telling Hijikata about it, and the thought makes him smile ruefully. It was just a mistake, right? He doesn't remember it, Hijikata doesn't remember it. So he should forget about it. Slowly he straightens up, taking one final glance back to the headquarters before taking his first step forward. There's no way this could be anything more.
A snatch of a sentence floats into his mind. 'I always wanted to...'
Surely this was all just a mistake, right? His feet stop even as he tells himself that. They won't move forward. They only want to go back. A flash of Hijikata's face, flushed in the darkness of his room, only the slightest crack in the door allowing a line of light to illuminate them, as they rutted against each other.
He wanted it. Hijikata wanted it, if only for last night. Even in the cold light of morning, when he really thinks about it, cutting through the denials, the embarrassment and how absolutely terrible an idea it is, he still wants it. He might be angry, crude, completely unreasonable and unbearably stubborn, but Gintoki still wants him. His feet want to turn back. He wants to turn back. So he does. The sleet starts to fall and he turns back, cursing every step that he takes away from home and back towards Hijikata. Despite the weather, the sliding door is cracked open as Hijikata leans against the wall and continues to smoke.
He hasn't noticed him yet. Gintoki stops in his tracks, despite the sleet starting to blow in under his umbrella. He looks different like this, when he's unaware that he's being watched. Almost relaxed, like some great internal tension has left him. When he spots Gintoki, his eyes narrow but he doesn't tell him to leave.
"Seriously?" With a sigh, he pushes the door further open with his foot. "Hurry up, already. If the floor gets soaked, you're the one cleaning it up." Gintoki steps up onto the wooden veranda, pushes the door even further open despite Hijikata's objections, trying to steal a kiss from him before a hand over his mouth shoves him away. "And take your boots off first, damn it."