Gin/Hiji - Fever Dreams (Prologue/?)
Title: Fever Dreams
Rating: NC-17…eventually (as soon as I can make it happen)
Pairing: Gintoki/Hijikata, various others.
Summary: 20-year-old Gintoki + 18-year-old Hijikata = ?
Warnings: AU, total lack of humour, Hijikata’s swearing, Gintoki’s dirty mouth, unbeta-ed work, excessive character worship...and sex?
Two years down the road and a lot more bloodied and jaded than he was before hitting puberty, Gintoki was starting to wonder if he should consider investing in a superannuation fund, just so he can be sure of his sugar supply when the war ends. Not that he had anything to contribute to a superannuation fund, or even if he had, he doubted there were superannuation agencies in operation, but it was certainly worth the thought.
A wave of dizziness hit him as he finally ran his sword into the belly of his attacker. He clenched his fingers at the feel of the warm rush of blood splashing against his skin; the uncanny similarity of the alien blood to that of his own was not something he wanted to dwell upon right now. The Amanto’s eyes, already glazed over with the inevitable sheen of death, had barely closed as Gintoki spun around and manoeuvred his position so that the dead alien acted as a temporary shield against the next onslaught of attackers.
His muscles were starting to protest from the exertion, and he had a sinking feeling that the giddiness he was currently experiencing wasn’t completely due to the fact that he hadn’t tasted anything sweet for the past three days.
The blood on his hands ran through his fingers, staining the rough wrapping around the hilt of his sword as he shakily pushed himself to his feet. Gintoki tried to ignore the strange warmth of the trail of blood spilling over his hands, the same way he steadfastly refused to acknowledge the growing numbness spreading throughout his chest and the burning pain in his left thigh.
A new group of Amanto emerged from the surrounding ruins, the unnatural green hue of their skin gleaming eerily in the setting sun. Their pointed teeth flashed in gleeful grins as they closed in upon their sole opponent, their minds already sure of the eventual enjoyment of a quick, tasteless massacre of their victim.
This is where the trusty gang comes to the rescue, right? Right?! Gintoki groaned inwardly and moved himself into position.
“Mmph!” Gintoki stumbled as someone barged into him from behind. Already half-blind with pain, he spun around and braced himself for the imminent stroke; strangely, it never came.
“Get out of the way, you oaf!”
A human voice. Gintoki narrowed his eyes and managed to make out a tall figure in black with long hair tied back in a high ponytail.
“...Zura...?” That was probably the last reserves of Gintoki’s strength. Once, finally, for once, the luck of Jump heroes had befallen him. The trusty friend to the rescue had actually arrived.
Gintoki swayed on his feet in a last valiant attempt to remain standing. The warm body he fell into was tremendously comforting. He shifted slightly in the arms the held him, marvelling slightly at how unfamiliar the callused hands that gripped him felt, as did the movement of his friend as Katsura angled his body to bear the extra weight.
Right before darkness finally overcame him, while surrounded by the triumphant cries of the enemy and almost suffocating in the metallic scent of his own blood, Gintoki managed to catch a glimpse of his rescuer’s face. He swallowed at the risk of his own death by the ensuing pain in his chest that followed. Dark blue eyes, their hostility made even more apparent by slightly dilated pupils, stared down upon him with unrestrained anger.
Oh shit. Not Zura.
***
Hijikata stared at the man who had just fainted in his arms. Zura? The little he had glimpsed of the man’s fighting prowess and the corpses strewn upon the ground were enough to tell him that this man was surely no mean opponent. Was he one of the Joui?
“Forward!” The cries of the Amanto snapped Hijikata back to attention. The body he held slipped to the ground as he straightened himself and unsheathed his sword. His lips curled cynically at the sight of the blood-thirsty enemy. At this very moment, the representative of the Amanto was probably being fawned upon by government ambassadors plying bottles of Dom Perignon upon him. No truce had been called while the negotiations took place; to the Amanto no such compromise was worth making. He doubted these underlings even cared who they killed as long as their victim was human.
In the midst of frenzied parrying and ducking, Hijikata slipped upon a wet patch and barely caught himself from falling, his arms almost clumsily grappling for non-existent support as he swung himself back into position. The Amanto had backed away slightly before, having learned to accord their opponent more respect after losing half a dozen of their number. The ring started to close in again, the enemy probably taking his misstep as a sign of approaching exhaustion and weakness.
Hijikata swore under his breath. He had been planning to use the momentary relief from the close attack to make a run for it. A subtle shift in the Amanto’s formation was the only warning he had, and too late at that. The unnatural gleam of alien steel flashed across his vision as a stray Amanto charged in for the kill.
Hijikata stared as the Amanto fell soundlessly down upon the ground.
“...you...?”
“Move!” Before he knew it, he found himself pulled along by his unexpected saviour, the two of them wildly deflecting the attacking Amanto as the other man stumbled forward.
“Hey!” His partner had stopped. The man staggered once, twice, before falling back onto Hijikata. Even as he struggled to lift the man up, he could feel the warmth seeping through his yukata, a sensation scarily in stark contrast to the cold touch of the neck against his own.
Oh fuck.
***
Comments, criticism, and flames are very much loved. Most appreciated, however, is someone to beat me down with a stick to dissuade me from engaging in such potentially brain-breaking activity. What is not needed is questions as to when the sex will commence.
Chapter 1
Rating: NC-17…eventually (as soon as I can make it happen)
Pairing: Gintoki/Hijikata, various others.
Summary: 20-year-old Gintoki + 18-year-old Hijikata = ?
Warnings: AU, total lack of humour, Hijikata’s swearing, Gintoki’s dirty mouth, unbeta-ed work, excessive character worship...and sex?
Two years down the road and a lot more bloodied and jaded than he was before hitting puberty, Gintoki was starting to wonder if he should consider investing in a superannuation fund, just so he can be sure of his sugar supply when the war ends. Not that he had anything to contribute to a superannuation fund, or even if he had, he doubted there were superannuation agencies in operation, but it was certainly worth the thought.
A wave of dizziness hit him as he finally ran his sword into the belly of his attacker. He clenched his fingers at the feel of the warm rush of blood splashing against his skin; the uncanny similarity of the alien blood to that of his own was not something he wanted to dwell upon right now. The Amanto’s eyes, already glazed over with the inevitable sheen of death, had barely closed as Gintoki spun around and manoeuvred his position so that the dead alien acted as a temporary shield against the next onslaught of attackers.
His muscles were starting to protest from the exertion, and he had a sinking feeling that the giddiness he was currently experiencing wasn’t completely due to the fact that he hadn’t tasted anything sweet for the past three days.
The blood on his hands ran through his fingers, staining the rough wrapping around the hilt of his sword as he shakily pushed himself to his feet. Gintoki tried to ignore the strange warmth of the trail of blood spilling over his hands, the same way he steadfastly refused to acknowledge the growing numbness spreading throughout his chest and the burning pain in his left thigh.
A new group of Amanto emerged from the surrounding ruins, the unnatural green hue of their skin gleaming eerily in the setting sun. Their pointed teeth flashed in gleeful grins as they closed in upon their sole opponent, their minds already sure of the eventual enjoyment of a quick, tasteless massacre of their victim.
This is where the trusty gang comes to the rescue, right? Right?! Gintoki groaned inwardly and moved himself into position.
“Mmph!” Gintoki stumbled as someone barged into him from behind. Already half-blind with pain, he spun around and braced himself for the imminent stroke; strangely, it never came.
“Get out of the way, you oaf!”
A human voice. Gintoki narrowed his eyes and managed to make out a tall figure in black with long hair tied back in a high ponytail.
“...Zura...?” That was probably the last reserves of Gintoki’s strength. Once, finally, for once, the luck of Jump heroes had befallen him. The trusty friend to the rescue had actually arrived.
Gintoki swayed on his feet in a last valiant attempt to remain standing. The warm body he fell into was tremendously comforting. He shifted slightly in the arms the held him, marvelling slightly at how unfamiliar the callused hands that gripped him felt, as did the movement of his friend as Katsura angled his body to bear the extra weight.
Right before darkness finally overcame him, while surrounded by the triumphant cries of the enemy and almost suffocating in the metallic scent of his own blood, Gintoki managed to catch a glimpse of his rescuer’s face. He swallowed at the risk of his own death by the ensuing pain in his chest that followed. Dark blue eyes, their hostility made even more apparent by slightly dilated pupils, stared down upon him with unrestrained anger.
Oh shit. Not Zura.
***
Hijikata stared at the man who had just fainted in his arms. Zura? The little he had glimpsed of the man’s fighting prowess and the corpses strewn upon the ground were enough to tell him that this man was surely no mean opponent. Was he one of the Joui?
“Forward!” The cries of the Amanto snapped Hijikata back to attention. The body he held slipped to the ground as he straightened himself and unsheathed his sword. His lips curled cynically at the sight of the blood-thirsty enemy. At this very moment, the representative of the Amanto was probably being fawned upon by government ambassadors plying bottles of Dom Perignon upon him. No truce had been called while the negotiations took place; to the Amanto no such compromise was worth making. He doubted these underlings even cared who they killed as long as their victim was human.
In the midst of frenzied parrying and ducking, Hijikata slipped upon a wet patch and barely caught himself from falling, his arms almost clumsily grappling for non-existent support as he swung himself back into position. The Amanto had backed away slightly before, having learned to accord their opponent more respect after losing half a dozen of their number. The ring started to close in again, the enemy probably taking his misstep as a sign of approaching exhaustion and weakness.
Hijikata swore under his breath. He had been planning to use the momentary relief from the close attack to make a run for it. A subtle shift in the Amanto’s formation was the only warning he had, and too late at that. The unnatural gleam of alien steel flashed across his vision as a stray Amanto charged in for the kill.
Hijikata stared as the Amanto fell soundlessly down upon the ground.
“...you...?”
“Move!” Before he knew it, he found himself pulled along by his unexpected saviour, the two of them wildly deflecting the attacking Amanto as the other man stumbled forward.
“Hey!” His partner had stopped. The man staggered once, twice, before falling back onto Hijikata. Even as he struggled to lift the man up, he could feel the warmth seeping through his yukata, a sensation scarily in stark contrast to the cold touch of the neck against his own.
Oh fuck.
***
Comments, criticism, and flames are very much loved. Most appreciated, however, is someone to beat me down with a stick to dissuade me from engaging in such potentially brain-breaking activity. What is not needed is questions as to when the sex will commence.
Chapter 1