Title: Fever Dreams
Rating: NC-17...eventually.
Pairing: Gintoki/Hijikata, various others.
Summary: 20-year-old Gintoki + 18-year-old Hijikata = ?
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: AU, total lack of humour, Hijikata’s swearing, Gintoki’s dirty mouth, unbeta-ed work, excessive character worship...and sex?


Hijikata squinted in the fading light. After a dozen turns in the slums he had about lost all of what little sense of direction he had in the first place. He shifted the weight slumped across his back in a futile attempt to ease the burden on his aching shoulders. He could almost imagine hearing the slow thump of the man’s heartbeat against his back in the uncanny silence of the alleys, its rhythm weak and soft as the uncomfortable feeling of wetness slowly spread across his back.

A flurry of footsteps drew his attention and he swiftly ducked into the nearest alley. Hijikata knelt down behind a row of garbage bins, deftly settling the man down next to him, and wincing at the increased flow of blood that succeeded this slight movement.

The shadows against the dark stained walls writhed menacingly as they crept silently closer.

“We’ll spread out here. The three of you, we’ll do this alley together.”

The footsteps drew nearer. Hijikata quietly unsheathed his sword and half-drew himself up, poised for the attack. He leapt out from his hiding place as the first Amanto stepped around to the side of the bin they were hiding behind. The Amanto barely managed an incoherent gurgle at the clean slash across his chest before slumping down onto the ground. A wide swing managed to catch another two. The last, outraged at the deaths of his comrades, released a howl of anguished fury, much to Hijikata’s dismay, and let loose a volley of fire in Hijikata’s direction.

Hijikata darted forward while warding himself against the shots with his blade. Caught off-guard by the daredevil close attack, the Amanto didn’t have time to draw his sword before Hijikata neatly cleaved his head from his body.

The blood from the dead body splattered across Hijikata’s face; the head rolled across the ground before finally coming to rest against the foot of one of the other corpses, its eyes still wide open with shock and terror. Hijikata roughly wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and turned back to his hiding place. The man lay there in exactly the position Hijikata had left him, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only reassurance Hijikata had that he was still alive.

“This is it!” This time the Amanto made no attempts at subterfuge.

Hijikata quickly slung the man across his shoulders. The rapid crescendo of footfalls told him that it was far too late to try to leave the alley. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a quick movement of shadows against one of the greasy window panes.

“Please,” he hissed, rapping softly but urgently against the window.

To his utmost relief, the door next to the window swung open. A woman’s face, pale with terror, poked out hesitantly. Her eyes widened at the sight of Hijikata and at the man slumped across his back.

“Hurry.” Hijikata did not waste time in obeying. The door had just swung shut behind them when the Amanto burst into the tiny alley. The enraged cries that followed after they discovered the violent deaths of their kind ricocheted off the grey stone walls of the buildings around them. His hostess crouched next to them, her eyes wide with terror - whether at the sight of the wounds sustained by the man with him, or at the threat of the Amanto he did not know.

The few minutes that passed seemed like years. Their breathing seemed unnaturally loud against the dead silence that stretched out endlessly.

“They must have left.” A scurry of footsteps echoed down the lane as the Amanto left the alley.

Hijikata closed his eyes and leaned his head against the rough wood of the door; the slight reprieve was enough to make known a burning pain in his left arm.

His gaze fell onto the man next to him. “Get me some warm water and bandages, quick!” His hostess jerked at the sternness of his tone and rapidly moved to obey after taking a quick glance at them. Hijikata quickly removed the man’s breastplate and reflexively drew in a sharp intake of breath at what he saw.

“Sir,” He swiftly took the proffered bandage and pressed it against the wound, reaching out quickly for more after the blood had soaked through the first. He worked almost mechanically, pressing layer after layer of bandages upon the wound, until he could no longer see red seeping through the bandages.

He repeated the same with the man’s left thigh, roughly tearing apart the man’s left trouser-leg and pressing the off-white cloth against the injury.

“Sir…you’re hurt too.” The woman moved towards him and touched his left arm tentatively. Hijikata hissed and withdrew at the searing flash of pain that resulted from that light touch – his eyes saw red for a split second back there, the red not being that of blood.

“Oh my god,” the woman gasped. Hijikata looked up from his task to see her rushing off towards the back of the building.

Damn. The grey steel of a bullet flashed in the dim lighting. Hijikata gritted his teeth and tentatively shifted his arm; it didn’t seem too deeply lodged - the pain had probably been exacerbated by all the exertion.

“Wait!” The woman emerged with a pair of tweezers. “I’ll do it,” she said, pressing Hijikata back down as he made to get up. Steam rose from the gleaming metal. “It’s the best I can do,” she said apologetically.

She was quick. The bullet flashed briefly as it caught the faint rays of moonlight filtering through the window panes before she threw it among the discarded pieces of cloth. Hijikata exhaled, tasting the metallic scent of blood on his lower lip from where he had unconsciously bitten down when she had pressed the tweezers into his flesh.

He shifted slightly but was once again pressed into place by the woman. “I’ll do the rest.” He blinked up at her. Her face was indistinct under the insufficient light.

Hijikata set back as she deftly cleansed their wounds. He did not realised he had nodded off to sleep until he felt himself being gently nudged awake.

“You need to help me,” she said. Together, they moved the man into a room at the back of the building and gently settled him down on the single futon in the room.

“This is all I have.” Hijikata didn’t even bother to answer. Already, his eyes were closing of their accord as he lay down on the wooden floor next to the man.

He barely noticed the blanket that was draped over both of them.

***

The morning light, grey and pale through the filthy windows, woke Hijikata from his sleep. He stirred, gingerly trying to turn over while avoiding the wound on his left arm and stopped when he brushed against a warm body.

He sat up, the events of the day before flooding back in a rush. Quietly, he studied the man sleeping next to him.

The man shifted slightly, his eyebrows creasing as he stirred in what seemed a fitful sleep. Under the faint daylight, Hijikata could finally make out the features that had eluded him amidst the confusion of yesterday’s battle.

The man was young, probably not much older than Hijikata himself. Their hostess had roughly cleaned their faces and necks; the face underneath all the blood and grime was extremely well-defined. The personality of its owner seemed to carry through even while he was asleep - through the slight curve at the edges of his lips, the creasing of his slightly knitted eyebrows, and even the slight movement of his facial muscles as he twitched.

Before he knew it, Hijikata had pressed a hand to the man’s forehead. It was slightly warm to the touch, a slight fever, but nothing too serious. He curiously drew his fingers across the silver eyebrows and carded them through the similarly-coloured curls. Like everything else about this man, his hair took on the owner’s distinct personality; Hijikata had never seen such a colour before, a silver colour being neither the greyish-white of the hair of aged people nor the pure bright streaks that youngsters frequently like dyeing their hair with.

Hijikata’s hand brushed against a rough spot beneath the ear. Almost absently, he scraped away the dried blood against the man’s skin. He paused as he came across a thin scar behind the blood clot and began to trace it down the curve of the man’s neck.

His movement was suddenly halted by a hand that shot up and gripped his own in an iron hold. He looked up.

Blood red eyes, their colour not unlike the flecks of dried blood on his fingertips, stared up lazily at him from under half-closed eyelids.

***

The surrounding atmosphere seemed almost stifling. The man stared steadily at Hijikata, the grip he had upon Hijikata’s hand not loosening one bit as he studied Hijikata thoroughly. Hijikata resisted an urge to land a punch in the man’s belly as he felt himself being dissected by the man’s gaze. The heat of the fingers over his hand was almost burning; the touch of the callused skin against his own brought back images of yesterday – the man standing between him and the attacking Amanto, and before that, the quick glimpse of that solitary figure among a host of alien enemies, the fluid movement of the man’s blade as he shifted from one stance to the next.

“Let go,” Hijikata gritted out, the urge to lunge forward now almost unbearable.

The half-lidded eyes widened a fraction. The man’s lips curved upwards in a smile as he wordlessly adjusted his grip around Hijikata’s hand so their palms were fully up against each other’s. His fingers kneaded their way through Hijikata’s own, and Hijikata had to bite down the impulse to recoil at the strange foreignness of having his fingers intertwined with someone else’s.

“Good morning,” the man said, his voice soft and low, with a tinge of…amusement - Hijikata realised in anger - to it.

At that, he released Hijikata’s hand. Thrown back by the sudden action, Hijikata let his hand fall with a soft thud upon the futon.

“I suppose I need to introduce myself,” the man said, gingerly arranging himself on the futon with what seemed like an almost indolent grace. “Sakata. Sakata Gintoki. Feel free to call me Gintoki.” He raised his eyebrows at Hijikata expectantly. Strangely, it didn’t seem to detract from the perpetual half-lidded effect he had.

Hijikata stared back in stolid silence.

Gintoki sighed and ran his fingers carelessly through his messy mop of curls. “Let’s get you a name then, shall we? How about…Oogushi? Oogushi-kun, how does that sound?”

“Hijikata Toushirou,” Hijikata snapped, biting off the words with as much viciousness as he could manage.

Gintoki tilted his head to the side. “What’s with the temper, Oogushi-kun?”

Hijikata finally snapped.

***

“Ow, Gin-san’s leg is dying,” Gintoki exclaimed weakly. Hijikata turned his head away and steadfastly refused to acknowledge the accusing glance directed towards him as he swiftly re-bandaged Gintoki’s left thigh.

“What happened?” Sekiguchi-san, their hostess, asked as she collected the basin of bloody water from Hijikata.

“The idiot turned over onto his own injury,” Hijikata replied. To his surprise, Gintoki didn’t protest. Against his better judgement, he turned towards Gintoki and found the man looking at him, the same cursed amusement written all over Gintoki’s face.

Hijikata once again twisted his head away and took the basin from Sekiguchi-san. “I’ll change the water,” he said as he strode out, trying to ignore the uncanny feeling of Gintoki’s eyes on him.

“Sekiguchi-san will be leaving us today,” Gintoki announced when Hijikata returned to the room.

Hijikata stared. “What? You can’t, not with what’s going on out there…”

“There’ll be someone meeting me,” Sekiguchi-san interrupted. She paused hesitantly, “If Hijikata-san wouldn’t mind escorting me to the meeting place…”

Hijikata cast a quick look at Gintoki, who unfortunately spotted it.

“You don’t have to worry about me. It’s only a couple of blocks away.”

If Sekiguchi-san hadn’t been there, Hijikata would have set about to wiping off that infuriating smile off Gintoki’s face, preferably by landing a punch right in the middle of it.

***

“Is this it?” Hijikata asked doubtfully. In reply, Sekiguchi-san walked up and knocked the door. It was opened almost instantly by a middle-aged man who regarded them with open suspicion and hostility.

Sekiguchi-san pressed a letter into his hand, and upon reading it, his expression changed instantly. He nodded and retreated into the building, beckoning her to follow.

“Wait,” Hijikata called out, “I haven’t managed to thank you for what you have done for us,” he said as she turned back towards him.

She smiled, “You’ve more than repaid me any debt you owe,” and before Hijikata could ask any further, she entered the building, swinging the door shut behind her.

***

“Did you know each other before?” Hijikata demanded.

“Who?” Gintoki blinked in what was decidedly feigned innocence.

“You and Sekiguchi-san.”

Gintoki lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “No. Whatever gave you the idea?”

“You seemed to know a lot about her,” Hijikata accused.

Gintoki shrugged. “Not everyone is as cold as Oogushi-kun.”

Hijikata glared at him and moved to get up from where he had been sitting on the floor next to Gintoki’s futon. “Since you’re sociable enough to get a supposed stranger to trust you to the extent of leaving her home to you within a conversation of less than five minutes, I’m sure you can somehow manage without me to babysit you.”

He found himself falling back as a rough hand closed around his right arm and pulled him back down. The futon dipped under his weight as he fell down upon the soft cushioning. He tried to twist out of Gintoki’s grip, but Gintoki pulled him closer and leaned in over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry; I knew her husband,” Gintoki murmured, the warm dampness of his breath tickling the sensitive skin at Hijikata’s ear. Hijikata shifted slightly at the sudden proximity, his eyebrows furrowing at the use of the past tense.

“This area’s been purged and ransacked, but she returned here alone with what little she could salvage elsewhere,” Gintoki continued. He had his front pressed up against Hijikata, the layers of bandages around his chest felt like uneven ridges against Hijikata’s back. "This was their home," he finished softly, the words brushing against the edges of Hijikata's hearing.

“Do you know the people she went to?” Hijikata asked quietly. The silence stretched out between them as Gintoki shifted a little behind him but didn’t answer. Hijikata waited until the movement of Gintoki’s breathing slowed to a steady, rhythmic beat before jerking his head around to look at the man resting his jaw upon Hijikata’s shoulder.

“Hey…” He bit off his words when he saw Gintoki’s closed eyelids. Hijikata stared down at the sleeping face, silently mapping out the lines of Gintoki’s face, idly the noting the distance between the eyebrows and eyelids, the strange silver colour that even the man’s eyelashes had.

Hijikata sighed and carefully lowered Gintoki back down onto the futon. He tried to unclench the fingers around his right arm, but Gintoki’s grip was as unrelenting as it had been in the morning. Hijikata sat there in silence for a while, before finally succumbing to the urge to sleep and settled himself at the edge of the futon.

Gintoki crept up behind Hijikata again sometime after that, the tip of his nose bumping against the side of Hijikata’s neck as he curled himself around Hijikata. Hijikata shifted in a vague attempt to dislodge the weight on his back, but made no further protest at the solid presence behind him as he fell back into a dreamless sleep.

***

This time, Hijikata woke to the warm touch of rough finger pads against his neck. Gintoki grinned down at him, his blood-red eyes seeming even more lethargic than before, if that was even possible.

Hijikata pulled away from the heated touch of Gintoki’s fingers. The ghost of the sensation lingered on his skin, not entirely uncomfortable, but definitely something unfamiliar he didn’t really want to dwell upon. If Gintoki was offended, he didn’t show it, choosing instead to rearrange himself on the futon. His legs brushed against Hijikata’s as he drew himself up, not bothering to hide a wince as Hijikata quickly tried to disentangle himself from the blankets and ended up inadvertently bumping against Gintoki’s left thigh. Hijikata stilled guiltily and waited as Gintoki cautiously turned over to his side, pushing himself a little more upright to avoid contact with Gintoki’s thigh.

He drew in a sharp intake of breath at the hardness that dug into his hips. His eyes snapped down, and up again to meet Gintoki’s as he opened his mouth to find himself at a loss for words, teetering at the brink of outrage and humiliation. Gintoki met his glare squarely, the other man’s lifeless fish-like eyes losing some of their sluggishness as a familiar glint of amusement crept into them. There was something of a challenge in them too, something that made Hijikata stop himself in his reflexive knee-jerk reaction to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.

“I can hardly do anything about it in this state,” Gintoki said plaintively, pursing his lips in what would have almost been a pout if the effect hadn’t been ruined by his eyes. It was he who moved away first, not bothering to avoid brushing his arousal against Hijikata, his attention seemingly solely focused on avoiding causing any pain to his chest and thigh. He leaned his head languidly against the wall, his mop of curls falling over his eyes as he lowered his head to study the awkward bulge in his trousers. The smile he gave Hijikata when he finally looked was nothing short of artfully engaging.

“I need to use the bathroom. Desperately.”

Hijikata gritted his teeth, pulled Gintoki up roughly by the arm, and totally oblivious to the man’s wails of protest, half-dragged him to the bathroom by his right arm, somehow managing to avoid contact with Gintoki's chest but failing miserably to ignore the bulge that still bumped into his left hip as Gintoki stumbled clumsily along with him.

***

I'm really, really starting to regret the time setting. I can't write action to save my life argh.
The first half of the prologue is most probably the only part in Gintoki's PoV. I have to admit that this fic is extremely Gin-centric, and as such Hijikata's characterisation is probably rather pale in comparison. I am trying.

I promise this isn't going to be too long. It had better not be, anyway, since my Gin-san is obviously already spiralling out of control.


Prologue