101 Ways to Die - In Your Lover's Arms
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KOHAI-KUN!
Series: Gintama
Characters: Sakamoto, Mutsu
Table: 101 Ways to Die, Progress table here
Prompt: #26, In your lover's arms
Rating: T
Lenght: 1,038 words
Beta: none - again, I was being really slow...
Summary: Some slightly fluffy SakaMutsu. Sakamoto finds himself ill and Mutsu has to take care of him...
Warnings: none
Notes: This story is for my lovely Kohai-kun, mercymelucretia. Happy Birthday my dear! I hope you're having a great day ♥.
I meant to finish this literally ages ago, but somehow I never really got it to work the way I wanted. After trying for several months to write a nice, romantic Mutsu, I just gave up, because it just didn't work. So, I apologize, Kohai-kun, this is probably not exactly what you wanted >.< Sorry! I always keep thinking that Sakamoto could probably be a real romantic if he wants to be, but Mutsu would probably keep her amazingly sassy attitute all day. Anyway, enjoy!
„Ahahaha, Mutsu, I think I’m getting ill…“
„Oh, shut up you airhead. You’re not going to weasel your way out of this one so easily!”
“But Mutsu- “
“I said shut up! And now go!”
Sakamoto sighed. He knew that it was pointless to keep on arguing with his pushy second-in-command. Still, he really felt like a cold was getting at him. His throat was raw, his nose running and a headache had already begun to make itself comfortable in his head. However, it would probably be even more dangerous for his health if he kept on refusing to meet up with this company guy. It’s only a short meeting, he told himself. It’ll be over in no time. And afterwards you can go and lie down and not worry about anything.
The talk went better than expected. Which, in his mind, basically meant that nobody tried to slash, shoot or by any other means kill him. And he had only puked twice on the shuttle flight to the big space station. That was a success, too. Oh, and of course the fact that had managed to yet secure another trade agreement. Mutsu would hopefully be proud.
As he returned to his own ship, he suddenly found himself aware of how ill he was. His head felt like some kind of demented dwarf army was having a metal concert in there and the air around him seemed to have grown too hot to properly move in.
“Boss?” He strained to hear the voice as he stepped off the shuttle.
“Ugh, Mutsu?”
“Is something wrong with you?” Were it not impossible he would have sworn there was a faint note of concern in her voice.
“No, I’m just feeling a bit dizzy, ahahahaha...” He lifted a hand to his forehead and found it hot and almost dripping with sweat. Trying to make his way past the other members of his crew, he staggered and had to hold on to ship’s wall in order not to fall over. It seemed like he had been right about the cold all along...
Somebody grabbed his arm. With a quick moment of bewildered astonishment he realised that it was Mutsu. Sakamoto kept quiet. In case somebody was currently remote-controlling his vice-captain he’d better not alert them to the fact that he had noticed.
With surprising strength for her small size she hefted his body over her shoulder. He thought he could hear a faint murmur including words like ‘moron’, ‘block-headed idiot’ and ‘stubborn fool’, but he chalked that one down to his impaired senses, too.
He didn’t quite know how he made it back to his room, but at some point, he found himself stretched out on his bed, a very firm hand pressing down on his head, checking his temperature. Shortly afterwards it disappeared and Mutsu’s face suddenly hovered over him.
“Sleep!”
“Aahaha, but - “
“SLEEP!” The weapon (his own, some part of his brain idly noted) that was suddenly pointed at his head seemed rather convincing. And it wasn’t like he had anything else to do today. At least nothing that couldn’t be taken care of the next day.
His dreams were strange. Earliest childhood memories were intermingled with those from the more recent past, of the war and the early days of his company. And he dreamt of Mutsu’s hands...soft, caring, loving. Surely it had to be a dream; since she was usually much more violent than that. In his fever-induced confusion he also thought of death - not now, but later on in his life. He had always had the quiet wish of dying in the arms of the one he loved. However, whenever he tried to conjure up thoughts of a potential family, of children and grandchildren surrounding him...somehow it was always Mutsu’s face being mirrored in their features.
The next time he woke up, the fever hadn’t fully subsided yet; however, he already felt better, his head not swimming anymore, a comfortable drowsiness settling down on him like a blanket. Again he could feel one of those blessedly cold hands, this time lying on his right arm. With no small amount of effort, he managed to open his eyes and turn his head around.
Immediately he closed his eyes. Opened them again. No, the picture remained. No illusion then.
Mutsu was gently snoring, mouth slightly open, her head draped on the bed right beside him. The hat she was usually always wearing sat forgotten on the floor next to her. One of her arms was dangling at her side whilst her other hand covered his arm.
Sakamoto smiled. So those hands hadn’t wholly been the product of his imagination. Carefully, he settled down again. For nothing in the world he would want to wake her up. He let his eyes rest on her features for a while. It was unusual for him to see her in such a peaceful state. Somehow, she seemed to be so much younger when she was sleeping.
Mutsu murmured something and tried to turn around. That motion, however, made her bump her head on the edges of the bed and with a suppressed curse on her lips she woke up, her eyes immediately alert as they settled on Sakamoto.
With a pang of regret he noted that she had also withdrawn her hand from his arm. Sighing, she got up completely, picked her hat off the floor and put it back on her head. Then she suddenly leaned down, placing her hand on his forehead again. She nodded, apparently satisfied and pointed to the glass of water besides the bed.
“Drink something. I also got some antibiotics. They should help. I expect you to be up in two days again and not slacking off pretending to be ill any longer...”
“Ahahahahaha, sorry Mutsu. Thank you for taking care of me...”
“Don’t be stupid. How could our company work without its president?” One of those rare, honest smiles lightened her face for a brief second, almost too short to be seen. “Get some more rest.” And as she turned around and walked out of the door, he almost couldn’t hear the second part of her reply. “And stop making me worry about you, idiot.”
Series: Gintama
Characters: Sakamoto, Mutsu
Table: 101 Ways to Die, Progress table here
Prompt: #26, In your lover's arms
Rating: T
Lenght: 1,038 words
Beta: none - again, I was being really slow...
Summary: Some slightly fluffy SakaMutsu. Sakamoto finds himself ill and Mutsu has to take care of him...
Warnings: none
Notes: This story is for my lovely Kohai-kun, mercymelucretia. Happy Birthday my dear! I hope you're having a great day ♥.
I meant to finish this literally ages ago, but somehow I never really got it to work the way I wanted. After trying for several months to write a nice, romantic Mutsu, I just gave up, because it just didn't work. So, I apologize, Kohai-kun, this is probably not exactly what you wanted >.< Sorry! I always keep thinking that Sakamoto could probably be a real romantic if he wants to be, but Mutsu would probably keep her amazingly sassy attitute all day. Anyway, enjoy!
„Ahahaha, Mutsu, I think I’m getting ill…“
„Oh, shut up you airhead. You’re not going to weasel your way out of this one so easily!”
“But Mutsu- “
“I said shut up! And now go!”
Sakamoto sighed. He knew that it was pointless to keep on arguing with his pushy second-in-command. Still, he really felt like a cold was getting at him. His throat was raw, his nose running and a headache had already begun to make itself comfortable in his head. However, it would probably be even more dangerous for his health if he kept on refusing to meet up with this company guy. It’s only a short meeting, he told himself. It’ll be over in no time. And afterwards you can go and lie down and not worry about anything.
The talk went better than expected. Which, in his mind, basically meant that nobody tried to slash, shoot or by any other means kill him. And he had only puked twice on the shuttle flight to the big space station. That was a success, too. Oh, and of course the fact that had managed to yet secure another trade agreement. Mutsu would hopefully be proud.
As he returned to his own ship, he suddenly found himself aware of how ill he was. His head felt like some kind of demented dwarf army was having a metal concert in there and the air around him seemed to have grown too hot to properly move in.
“Boss?” He strained to hear the voice as he stepped off the shuttle.
“Ugh, Mutsu?”
“Is something wrong with you?” Were it not impossible he would have sworn there was a faint note of concern in her voice.
“No, I’m just feeling a bit dizzy, ahahahaha...” He lifted a hand to his forehead and found it hot and almost dripping with sweat. Trying to make his way past the other members of his crew, he staggered and had to hold on to ship’s wall in order not to fall over. It seemed like he had been right about the cold all along...
Somebody grabbed his arm. With a quick moment of bewildered astonishment he realised that it was Mutsu. Sakamoto kept quiet. In case somebody was currently remote-controlling his vice-captain he’d better not alert them to the fact that he had noticed.
With surprising strength for her small size she hefted his body over her shoulder. He thought he could hear a faint murmur including words like ‘moron’, ‘block-headed idiot’ and ‘stubborn fool’, but he chalked that one down to his impaired senses, too.
He didn’t quite know how he made it back to his room, but at some point, he found himself stretched out on his bed, a very firm hand pressing down on his head, checking his temperature. Shortly afterwards it disappeared and Mutsu’s face suddenly hovered over him.
“Sleep!”
“Aahaha, but - “
“SLEEP!” The weapon (his own, some part of his brain idly noted) that was suddenly pointed at his head seemed rather convincing. And it wasn’t like he had anything else to do today. At least nothing that couldn’t be taken care of the next day.
His dreams were strange. Earliest childhood memories were intermingled with those from the more recent past, of the war and the early days of his company. And he dreamt of Mutsu’s hands...soft, caring, loving. Surely it had to be a dream; since she was usually much more violent than that. In his fever-induced confusion he also thought of death - not now, but later on in his life. He had always had the quiet wish of dying in the arms of the one he loved. However, whenever he tried to conjure up thoughts of a potential family, of children and grandchildren surrounding him...somehow it was always Mutsu’s face being mirrored in their features.
The next time he woke up, the fever hadn’t fully subsided yet; however, he already felt better, his head not swimming anymore, a comfortable drowsiness settling down on him like a blanket. Again he could feel one of those blessedly cold hands, this time lying on his right arm. With no small amount of effort, he managed to open his eyes and turn his head around.
Immediately he closed his eyes. Opened them again. No, the picture remained. No illusion then.
Mutsu was gently snoring, mouth slightly open, her head draped on the bed right beside him. The hat she was usually always wearing sat forgotten on the floor next to her. One of her arms was dangling at her side whilst her other hand covered his arm.
Sakamoto smiled. So those hands hadn’t wholly been the product of his imagination. Carefully, he settled down again. For nothing in the world he would want to wake her up. He let his eyes rest on her features for a while. It was unusual for him to see her in such a peaceful state. Somehow, she seemed to be so much younger when she was sleeping.
Mutsu murmured something and tried to turn around. That motion, however, made her bump her head on the edges of the bed and with a suppressed curse on her lips she woke up, her eyes immediately alert as they settled on Sakamoto.
With a pang of regret he noted that she had also withdrawn her hand from his arm. Sighing, she got up completely, picked her hat off the floor and put it back on her head. Then she suddenly leaned down, placing her hand on his forehead again. She nodded, apparently satisfied and pointed to the glass of water besides the bed.
“Drink something. I also got some antibiotics. They should help. I expect you to be up in two days again and not slacking off pretending to be ill any longer...”
“Ahahahahaha, sorry Mutsu. Thank you for taking care of me...”
“Don’t be stupid. How could our company work without its president?” One of those rare, honest smiles lightened her face for a brief second, almost too short to be seen. “Get some more rest.” And as she turned around and walked out of the door, he almost couldn’t hear the second part of her reply. “And stop making me worry about you, idiot.”