[Gintama] Actions Speak Louder Than Words.
Title: Actions Speak Louder Than Words.
Author: masanami
Character(s): Gintoki/Hijikata
Word Count: 1,336
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: Gintoki thinks about the past as he watches Hijikata one rainy day.
Author's Note: Not really that happy with this one but figured I might as well post it since I spent time on it.
“Eh? You’re not kicking me out for once?”
Gintoki’s red eyes widen in both surprise and shock, mouth slightly agape as he stares at the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi. Leaning over the frame of the entranceway to the vice-commander’s room, boots discarded and bare feet rubbing against the wooden planks, Gintoki looks questioningly at the man that is watching him from across the room.
“Do you want me to? I’ll gladly have you dragged away and out of my sight.”
“N-no, Hijikata-kun, no need to go that far.” Gintoki steps inside and slides the door close behind him, drowning out the noise of the other officers that are drilling in the gardens beside the vice-commander’s room. Outside the darkened sky has cast a cloud over the warmth and brightness of the day, threatening a down pour with turbulent skies. “You just surprised Gin-san.”
“Hmph.” Hijikata’s shoulders shrug as he looks away and instead focuses on the papers that clutter the small table in the otherwise sparsely filled room. From here Gintoki sees the slight darkening around Hijikata’s eyes and the way his hands move slowly to collect a thick folder that has taken refuge on the corner of the desk. He thinks Hijikata is pushing himself again; he can see it all to clearly with each movement he makes and the slight hesitation that comes from drowsed muscles. But Hijikata is doing as he always seems to do, and concern fills in his eyes even though he doesn’t say anything aloud, knowing it is better not to give Hijikata an excuse to ruin something they both want just because of foolish pride. He knows Hijikata, and he is a man too stubborn to listen to him regardless of what he says. Tonight he does not want to feel the sting of rejection, so he will stay silent.
Gintoki sits down beside him just as the other man lights a cigarette and inhales deeply. He doesn’t like that he is smoking almost as much as he doesn’t like the lines of sleep deprivation that come into far too much clarity from this close angle. The smoke is bitter as it fills the air, and Gintoki thinks about the last time he kissed those lips and the harsh taste that filled his taste buds as he explored Hijikata’s mouth with his tongue. He would much prefer the taste of strawberry milk or some other sweet treat, but Hijikata only gets infuriated at his meager suggestion to ditch nicotine for sugar.
But despite that Gintoki knows it really doesn’t matter. Hijikata himself is far too alluring to resist despite the harsh taste, and it is something that he has realized time and time again.
It has been months since the first time he gave into the temptation of those lips and the sin of that flesh. And some part of Gintoki nags him that there is something wrong about the feverous passion and abandonment of that first night and the other nights that would soon follow. It is dangerous, the way in which Hijikata has consumed his thoughts and his lust, making all else pale in comparison. But he finds himself unwilling and unable to bend to coercion of his own misgivings and advice, because if there is one thing that he has learned in his life it is that happiness is fleeting and can slip so easily between clasped fingers. Its important to hold onto those things that are important, because there is never any telling when it will be violently ripped away.
But he also knows he needs to be careful. It is easy to push too far, and that instinctive drive that he feels pulsating through his veins may be more than Hijikata is ready to handle in the delicate folds of this new relationship.
He thinks this as he watches Hijikata sitting there, absently fiddling with the hem of his kimono. He looks strong and powerful, and Gintoki has never doubted that Hijikata has earned his title as a demonic vice-commander. But even though he sees that strength, he can see the gentleness as well. Because even though Hijikata is stern and rough to others, Gintoki cannot help but imagine how free he seemed to feel in those few seconds when he would strip away that outer armor.
Outside the storm has begun to churn and peals of raindrops brush against the roof in gentle strumming patterns.
He watches as Hijikata breathes deeply, his chest rising and falling, and the flimsy fabric of the kimono rustlings against bare flesh. He feels like moving closer and running his fingers across that exposed skin, and he can already anticipate the moans that Hijikata would try to hide; the protest that they both know would be useless. And it would be in these few intimidate moments that he would see the side of Hijikata that he shows no one else. It is a world that he and he alone is privy to, and Gintoki understands the significance of this gesture. For someone with his own clouded past, a glimpse into that world can mean a vulnerability that cannot be expressed so simply with words. Gintoki knows better than to try to pry that world open and force it to the light of day. He also knows better than to question this opening, to wonder why Hijikata has chosen him. None of that matters, because he is chosen and no doubt exists in that fact.
He wonders if one day he will be able to so openly share himself with Hijikata. His past is one smothered in painful memories. They are memories he would rather forget, but he knows he cannot disregard. And perhaps it is those memories that drives him to cling so desperately to these moments with the one that has stolen his mind and heart, to so instinctively clutch onto any remnants of happiness which he can find.
“You’re going to hurt your head.”
Gintoki looks up, red eyes blinking at words that break his thoughts.
There is a smile hidden in the corner of Hijikata’s lips as he speaks. “Thinking so hard, you’re going to hurt your head like that.”
Somehow, Hijikata’s words brush away those thoughts that has been dancing in his head. He is grateful for that and it fills him with the overwhelming urge to close the distance between them.
Gintoki knows he has never been good with holding back when he wants something; like an animal running on instinct alone, he doesn’t know how to bite his tongue. Sometimes it means gambling until all the money is gone or even taking the most ridiculous jobs to scrape by enough money for another month, but despite living a life as a poor person, Gintoki knows he has gained so much. His journey has always been filled with the rewards that might not seem apparent at first glance.
But those are always the best kind.
Gintoki reaches over and clasps his arms around Hijikata, burying his face into his neck. Hijikata smells as clear as the bright sky, feels as warm as the sun’s rays. For a moment, Gintoki lets himself bask in that encompassing feeling that consumes him both body and soul.
“H-hey, natural perm, what are you doing?”
“Gin-san just wants to hold you.” Gintoki says gently. “Let him hold onto you, even if its only for a moment.”
“Tch, why you…” Hijikata mutters underneath his breath. But he didn’t move and ever-so-slightly Gintoki can actually feel him relax within his arms.
It is still tender and fledging between them but Gintoki knows that Hijikata is someone who may never openly express himself-but that is okay. Gintoki knows action speak louder than words; a call to come over means I want to see you, a long look means I’m glad you’re here, and a warm embrace means…
I want you beside me.
All these things, Gintoki knows, are far more precious than anything spoken with words alone.
Author: masanami
Character(s): Gintoki/Hijikata
Word Count: 1,336
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: Gintoki thinks about the past as he watches Hijikata one rainy day.
Author's Note: Not really that happy with this one but figured I might as well post it since I spent time on it.
“Eh? You’re not kicking me out for once?”
Gintoki’s red eyes widen in both surprise and shock, mouth slightly agape as he stares at the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi. Leaning over the frame of the entranceway to the vice-commander’s room, boots discarded and bare feet rubbing against the wooden planks, Gintoki looks questioningly at the man that is watching him from across the room.
“Do you want me to? I’ll gladly have you dragged away and out of my sight.”
“N-no, Hijikata-kun, no need to go that far.” Gintoki steps inside and slides the door close behind him, drowning out the noise of the other officers that are drilling in the gardens beside the vice-commander’s room. Outside the darkened sky has cast a cloud over the warmth and brightness of the day, threatening a down pour with turbulent skies. “You just surprised Gin-san.”
“Hmph.” Hijikata’s shoulders shrug as he looks away and instead focuses on the papers that clutter the small table in the otherwise sparsely filled room. From here Gintoki sees the slight darkening around Hijikata’s eyes and the way his hands move slowly to collect a thick folder that has taken refuge on the corner of the desk. He thinks Hijikata is pushing himself again; he can see it all to clearly with each movement he makes and the slight hesitation that comes from drowsed muscles. But Hijikata is doing as he always seems to do, and concern fills in his eyes even though he doesn’t say anything aloud, knowing it is better not to give Hijikata an excuse to ruin something they both want just because of foolish pride. He knows Hijikata, and he is a man too stubborn to listen to him regardless of what he says. Tonight he does not want to feel the sting of rejection, so he will stay silent.
Gintoki sits down beside him just as the other man lights a cigarette and inhales deeply. He doesn’t like that he is smoking almost as much as he doesn’t like the lines of sleep deprivation that come into far too much clarity from this close angle. The smoke is bitter as it fills the air, and Gintoki thinks about the last time he kissed those lips and the harsh taste that filled his taste buds as he explored Hijikata’s mouth with his tongue. He would much prefer the taste of strawberry milk or some other sweet treat, but Hijikata only gets infuriated at his meager suggestion to ditch nicotine for sugar.
But despite that Gintoki knows it really doesn’t matter. Hijikata himself is far too alluring to resist despite the harsh taste, and it is something that he has realized time and time again.
It has been months since the first time he gave into the temptation of those lips and the sin of that flesh. And some part of Gintoki nags him that there is something wrong about the feverous passion and abandonment of that first night and the other nights that would soon follow. It is dangerous, the way in which Hijikata has consumed his thoughts and his lust, making all else pale in comparison. But he finds himself unwilling and unable to bend to coercion of his own misgivings and advice, because if there is one thing that he has learned in his life it is that happiness is fleeting and can slip so easily between clasped fingers. Its important to hold onto those things that are important, because there is never any telling when it will be violently ripped away.
But he also knows he needs to be careful. It is easy to push too far, and that instinctive drive that he feels pulsating through his veins may be more than Hijikata is ready to handle in the delicate folds of this new relationship.
He thinks this as he watches Hijikata sitting there, absently fiddling with the hem of his kimono. He looks strong and powerful, and Gintoki has never doubted that Hijikata has earned his title as a demonic vice-commander. But even though he sees that strength, he can see the gentleness as well. Because even though Hijikata is stern and rough to others, Gintoki cannot help but imagine how free he seemed to feel in those few seconds when he would strip away that outer armor.
Outside the storm has begun to churn and peals of raindrops brush against the roof in gentle strumming patterns.
He watches as Hijikata breathes deeply, his chest rising and falling, and the flimsy fabric of the kimono rustlings against bare flesh. He feels like moving closer and running his fingers across that exposed skin, and he can already anticipate the moans that Hijikata would try to hide; the protest that they both know would be useless. And it would be in these few intimidate moments that he would see the side of Hijikata that he shows no one else. It is a world that he and he alone is privy to, and Gintoki understands the significance of this gesture. For someone with his own clouded past, a glimpse into that world can mean a vulnerability that cannot be expressed so simply with words. Gintoki knows better than to try to pry that world open and force it to the light of day. He also knows better than to question this opening, to wonder why Hijikata has chosen him. None of that matters, because he is chosen and no doubt exists in that fact.
He wonders if one day he will be able to so openly share himself with Hijikata. His past is one smothered in painful memories. They are memories he would rather forget, but he knows he cannot disregard. And perhaps it is those memories that drives him to cling so desperately to these moments with the one that has stolen his mind and heart, to so instinctively clutch onto any remnants of happiness which he can find.
“You’re going to hurt your head.”
Gintoki looks up, red eyes blinking at words that break his thoughts.
There is a smile hidden in the corner of Hijikata’s lips as he speaks. “Thinking so hard, you’re going to hurt your head like that.”
Somehow, Hijikata’s words brush away those thoughts that has been dancing in his head. He is grateful for that and it fills him with the overwhelming urge to close the distance between them.
Gintoki knows he has never been good with holding back when he wants something; like an animal running on instinct alone, he doesn’t know how to bite his tongue. Sometimes it means gambling until all the money is gone or even taking the most ridiculous jobs to scrape by enough money for another month, but despite living a life as a poor person, Gintoki knows he has gained so much. His journey has always been filled with the rewards that might not seem apparent at first glance.
But those are always the best kind.
Gintoki reaches over and clasps his arms around Hijikata, burying his face into his neck. Hijikata smells as clear as the bright sky, feels as warm as the sun’s rays. For a moment, Gintoki lets himself bask in that encompassing feeling that consumes him both body and soul.
“H-hey, natural perm, what are you doing?”
“Gin-san just wants to hold you.” Gintoki says gently. “Let him hold onto you, even if its only for a moment.”
“Tch, why you…” Hijikata mutters underneath his breath. But he didn’t move and ever-so-slightly Gintoki can actually feel him relax within his arms.
It is still tender and fledging between them but Gintoki knows that Hijikata is someone who may never openly express himself-but that is okay. Gintoki knows action speak louder than words; a call to come over means I want to see you, a long look means I’m glad you’re here, and a warm embrace means…
I want you beside me.
All these things, Gintoki knows, are far more precious than anything spoken with words alone.