FIC: GINTAMA - before you can walk
Title: before you can walk
Fandom: Gintama
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura.
Disclaimer: I don't have the face of an otter or a soul of silver.
Feedback: If you'd like!
Notes: For antimonial. Based off of a hideously long AU storyline we drummed up together. "Chiro" refers to Kanshichiro, who in this story has come from a member of Gintoki's family who passed away. Raising Harry style, suckas. TL;DR, Japanese slice of life.
More Goddamned Notes: Written to "The Gambler" - fun.
THE NOTES DON'T END: ferrrox drew an adorable companion piece to this story, which you can find HERE. Holy shit!
Cross-posted at ginzura.
Neither of them have any idea when Chiro actually started walking. Gintoki remembers sitting on the couch beside Zura, watching that year's boring-ass taiga (at the smaller man's behest), with Chiro playing on the floor before them. While political garbage spewed from some punk kid actor's upstart mouth (really, couldn't they have casted someone who had plucked a single nose hair in their whole life?), Gintoki's attention had waned. His eyes slid boredly from the screen to Zura, who was completely immersed, being a boring, gullible idiot. They then slid down to Chiro, who was similarly immersed in navigating his Otter 11 toys back and forth across the carpet.
After a few moments, the boy seemed to realise something was missing, and looked around blankly. Gintoki hoped he hadn't just pooped his pants, because he was really quite comfortable, and successfully tearing Zura away from his drama to change a poop-filled diaper seemed like a longshot.
Clutching Otter 11 (the man with the face of an otter), Chiro had wobbled into a standing position. This was nothing new. But then he'd stomped unsteadily to where he'd left Hamada-kun (the otter with the face of a man), and plopped down again matter-of-factly. To Chiro, the actions had seemed old hat. To Gintoki, they were utterly unheard of -- the lazy kid was always raising his arms for a pick up to get anywhere.
Gintoki had responded immediately, as a level-headed adult, with manly but contained pride. He grabbed Zura's shoulder and shook it violently, practically shrieking. "Zura, Zura! Holy shit, did you see that?"
"Stop shaking me -- shut up, I'm not falling for that again! There's no booger hanging out of the General's nose."
"Aa? Who's talking about boogers? Don't talk about boogers at a time like this!"
"You're the one who isn't letting me wait until the proper commercial break! Stop shouting, you'll upset Chiro."
"Idiot, nothing can upset him now! He's a man of the world! He's ready for travel!"
"What are you talking about?"
The explanation had left Zura dubious at best, Gintoki could tell. What kind of situation was he living in, he mused as they all headed upstairs for bed, a sleepy Chiro conked out on Zura's shoulder, fists tangled in black hair. Damnit, he was the head of the household. That meant a certain level of respect, didn't it? Chiro should have informed him of his new skill to begin with, and Zura should believe any goddamn thing out of his mouth, even if he's actually full of bullshit.
-+-+-+-
It's been a week since that night, and Zura now believes Gintoki is overflowing with bullshit. This is mostly because his lower back is a mess.
"I'd say this is the first sign of old age, but you've been exhibiting those since middle school," the white-haired man drawls, watching Zura squirm uncomfortably out of his t-shirt. It's stained with cranberry juice. Oh how the mighty have fallen (into parenthood).
The other man ignores the jibe, a hand pressing into that abused spine and arching. "-- Uhhnn. What are you feeding him? Are you sneaking him treats when I'm not looking?"
"No. I could sneak you a treat right now, if you want."
"My back hurts."
"Fine, I can look for Gran's old cane. You can hold onto it for support."
"I can look for it too, to beat you back with."
Zura bends to pick up his discarded khakis, and Gintoki watches happily from the bed until the smaller man makes a noise like a punted hamster. "...That bad, huh?"
"No, I can handle it," Zura returns brusquely, which assures Gintoki that the moron must be in some real sort of pain. Once Zura pulls on worn looking pajamas and collapses onto the bed beside him, Gintoki reaches out, grabbing a hip. Before the black-haired man can protest, he rolls him over and scoots down the bed, yanking up the back of the other's t-shirt. "What are you doing -- "
"Shut up, stupid." He thinks about how Zura touches his neck and shoulders after a long day, and imitates the movements. When he presses his thumbs to pale skin and rolls them up against tight muscles, Zura hisses. "Bad?"
"I... no. I'm not sure. Do it again."
Gintoki does, and although Zura's breathing gets a bit shallow, he doesn't protest. After a long couple of minutes, a sigh escapes the other man, and Gintoki snorts. "If you stopped babying him, it wouldn't be this bad."
"You just want me to baby you."
"That's not true." It's true. Chiro has severely cut into his Zura-babying time, that little brat. It's better to just get off that topic, really. "What happened to all those dumb baby books you read, aa? They couldn't shut up enough about fostering independence, whatever the hell that means."
"They also explained about late developers. He doesn't walk or talk yet, but he will when he is ready. You need to be more patient -- ow!" A face rises from the black puddle of hair on the pillows, scowling back at him.
"Hm?"
"That was on purpose, you asshole! This overcompensation you have going on is getting really annoying! He wouldn't want up so much if he could move around himself, it doesn't make any sense."
"Sense? What sense? He's 20 months old!"
"Exactly. What am I supposed to do, say no when he wants up?"
Gintoki huffs. "You say no to me all the time. Especially during the evening, usually with some lame-ass excuse like your back hurting -- "
He doesn't get out of the way in time.
Better luck tomorrow night, maybe (with some things more than others).
-+-+-+-
Zura's job isn't like Gintoki's. Gintoki's has set hours, set work. At 3 o'clock (or 5 o'clock, if he's been roped into some extracurricular crap), Gintoki grabs his briefcase, hops on his scooter, and is gone before a single student has the audacity to attempt to ask him questions after school hours (optimally -- it rarely works out that way).
The historic and archeologic research job Zura has landed is much more flexible; sometimes he works from home, sometimes he works at the institute at night, sometimes he works on weekends instead of weekdays, sometimes he goes on site visits. Back when Chiro had first come into their lives, it had made things exceptionally easier to adjust to. Most routinely, Zura watches Chiro during the day while Gintoki goes to teach, and if he isn't able to work from home, the kid is dropped off at Sakamoto's until the evening.
Tonight, Gintoki is irrationally angry at the fact that Zura's job is so stupid and abnormal. If Zura were an average salaryman, he wouldn't be gone all evening to sit in some stupid University lab and flick dirt off what Gintoki has always thought of as greater dirt-clumps (but has been repeatedly informed are in actuality "artifacts"). If Zura had a normal nine to five job, he wouldn't have missed all the action.
The moment the other man finally steps in the door, Gintoki demands, "Damnit, did you get my text? Aa? The picture? You can apologise now."
Zura unravels his scarf, blinking dully. After a moment, he pulls out his mobile, flicking it open towards the other man. "You mean this?" It's a picture of their living room carpet. It's stained with cranberry juice (that shit just gets everywhere). "Yes. Thank you. I was really worried about those fibers."
He must have been holding the stupid phone upside down. Damnit! "I was trying to take a picture of Chiro walking. You know, like he's perfectly capable of doing."
"This again?" Zura sighs. "You really need to give it a rest. Where is he?"
"We just got out of the tub. He's on the bed. He walked down the hall to it, thanks."
This isn't even granted a response, and soon they're all sitting on the floor, Zura running his fingers through Chiro's hair as he blowdries it.
"You're going to turn it into an afro," Gintoki grouses, watching the kid's hair get fluffier and fluffier and bigger and bigger. "Then what'll we do, aa? We'll have to say we still love him with straight faces. Do you know how hard that's going to be?"
"It's cute like this," Zura defends, petting the soft, increasingly large perm with a dumb, blushing expression on his face.
"He's not a pomeranian. You need help. You know what else you need help with?"
"Getting that stain out of the carpet. Do that tomorrow, I'm working in the afternoon."
"You need help with your cynicism. You have trust issues, Zura. For example, you don't believe me when I tell you this lazy kid can walk."
"It's not Zura, it's Katsura. And I don't believe you not because I have trust issues, but because it's untrue." The blowdryer is turned off just as Gintoki thinks Chiro's hair might actually start getting too heavy for his head and topple him to the side. "I'll believe it when I see it." With that, the other man stands, picking up the damp towel to return it to the bathroom.
When Zura walks out the door, Chiro gets to his feet and teeter-totters after him.
"ZURAAAAAAAAAAA!" Gintoki screams. "ZUUUUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The smaller man arrives just a moment too late, looking panicked and slamming the door wide. Chiro, in the meantime, has plopped onto his butt just before the threshold. As Zura pants for breath, the kid raises his hands in the universal symbol of "pick me up" or, as Gintoki currently believes it means, "F*ck you, Gintoki."
Funnily enough, Zura is giving him a look that translates to the exact same thing.
-+-+-+-
It keeps happening, these infuriating near-misses, and eventually Gintoki stops feeling bitter enough about it to properly think about it. Still, the only reasons he comes up with are "God hates me" and "Chiro is possessed by Gran, who also hates me, and thinks this is really funny, but it's not funny, you crazy old bat, go back to hell." Chiro never manages to walk to Zura, always puts his hands in the air for 'up.' Zura never manages to believe Gintoki's insistance, and continuously points out the other man has no room to call anyone lazy.
Finally, almost three weeks later, he understands why it keeps happening purely by accident, in the very same location all the trouble started. This time, however, Chiro is curled up on his and Zura's laps, lulled to sleep by the quiet noise from the TV and the thin, careful fingers stroking through his hair. Gintoki watches the digits card gently through the white tufts with an odd, pleased feeling -- he knows how nice it feels to have Zura's soft touch in his hair, and he's happy that he can share such a warm, content feeling with Chiro.
Hell, he's never more relaxed than in moments like these, with his head on Zura's shoulder, Chiro a dozing, heated lump putting their legs resolutely to sleep. Gintoki doubts he'll even be able to stand up and walk to the bedroom after this, but in truth he'd rather stay curled up against Zura than expound the energy --
-- and he gets it.
And now, really... he can't blame him.
Fandom: Gintama
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura.
Disclaimer: I don't have the face of an otter or a soul of silver.
Feedback: If you'd like!
Notes: For antimonial. Based off of a hideously long AU storyline we drummed up together. "Chiro" refers to Kanshichiro, who in this story has come from a member of Gintoki's family who passed away. Raising Harry style, suckas. TL;DR, Japanese slice of life.
More Goddamned Notes: Written to "The Gambler" - fun.
THE NOTES DON'T END: ferrrox drew an adorable companion piece to this story, which you can find HERE. Holy shit!
Cross-posted at ginzura.
Neither of them have any idea when Chiro actually started walking. Gintoki remembers sitting on the couch beside Zura, watching that year's boring-ass taiga (at the smaller man's behest), with Chiro playing on the floor before them. While political garbage spewed from some punk kid actor's upstart mouth (really, couldn't they have casted someone who had plucked a single nose hair in their whole life?), Gintoki's attention had waned. His eyes slid boredly from the screen to Zura, who was completely immersed, being a boring, gullible idiot. They then slid down to Chiro, who was similarly immersed in navigating his Otter 11 toys back and forth across the carpet.
After a few moments, the boy seemed to realise something was missing, and looked around blankly. Gintoki hoped he hadn't just pooped his pants, because he was really quite comfortable, and successfully tearing Zura away from his drama to change a poop-filled diaper seemed like a longshot.
Clutching Otter 11 (the man with the face of an otter), Chiro had wobbled into a standing position. This was nothing new. But then he'd stomped unsteadily to where he'd left Hamada-kun (the otter with the face of a man), and plopped down again matter-of-factly. To Chiro, the actions had seemed old hat. To Gintoki, they were utterly unheard of -- the lazy kid was always raising his arms for a pick up to get anywhere.
Gintoki had responded immediately, as a level-headed adult, with manly but contained pride. He grabbed Zura's shoulder and shook it violently, practically shrieking. "Zura, Zura! Holy shit, did you see that?"
"Stop shaking me -- shut up, I'm not falling for that again! There's no booger hanging out of the General's nose."
"Aa? Who's talking about boogers? Don't talk about boogers at a time like this!"
"You're the one who isn't letting me wait until the proper commercial break! Stop shouting, you'll upset Chiro."
"Idiot, nothing can upset him now! He's a man of the world! He's ready for travel!"
"What are you talking about?"
The explanation had left Zura dubious at best, Gintoki could tell. What kind of situation was he living in, he mused as they all headed upstairs for bed, a sleepy Chiro conked out on Zura's shoulder, fists tangled in black hair. Damnit, he was the head of the household. That meant a certain level of respect, didn't it? Chiro should have informed him of his new skill to begin with, and Zura should believe any goddamn thing out of his mouth, even if he's actually full of bullshit.
-+-+-+-
It's been a week since that night, and Zura now believes Gintoki is overflowing with bullshit. This is mostly because his lower back is a mess.
"I'd say this is the first sign of old age, but you've been exhibiting those since middle school," the white-haired man drawls, watching Zura squirm uncomfortably out of his t-shirt. It's stained with cranberry juice. Oh how the mighty have fallen (into parenthood).
The other man ignores the jibe, a hand pressing into that abused spine and arching. "-- Uhhnn. What are you feeding him? Are you sneaking him treats when I'm not looking?"
"No. I could sneak you a treat right now, if you want."
"My back hurts."
"Fine, I can look for Gran's old cane. You can hold onto it for support."
"I can look for it too, to beat you back with."
Zura bends to pick up his discarded khakis, and Gintoki watches happily from the bed until the smaller man makes a noise like a punted hamster. "...That bad, huh?"
"No, I can handle it," Zura returns brusquely, which assures Gintoki that the moron must be in some real sort of pain. Once Zura pulls on worn looking pajamas and collapses onto the bed beside him, Gintoki reaches out, grabbing a hip. Before the black-haired man can protest, he rolls him over and scoots down the bed, yanking up the back of the other's t-shirt. "What are you doing -- "
"Shut up, stupid." He thinks about how Zura touches his neck and shoulders after a long day, and imitates the movements. When he presses his thumbs to pale skin and rolls them up against tight muscles, Zura hisses. "Bad?"
"I... no. I'm not sure. Do it again."
Gintoki does, and although Zura's breathing gets a bit shallow, he doesn't protest. After a long couple of minutes, a sigh escapes the other man, and Gintoki snorts. "If you stopped babying him, it wouldn't be this bad."
"You just want me to baby you."
"That's not true." It's true. Chiro has severely cut into his Zura-babying time, that little brat. It's better to just get off that topic, really. "What happened to all those dumb baby books you read, aa? They couldn't shut up enough about fostering independence, whatever the hell that means."
"They also explained about late developers. He doesn't walk or talk yet, but he will when he is ready. You need to be more patient -- ow!" A face rises from the black puddle of hair on the pillows, scowling back at him.
"Hm?"
"That was on purpose, you asshole! This overcompensation you have going on is getting really annoying! He wouldn't want up so much if he could move around himself, it doesn't make any sense."
"Sense? What sense? He's 20 months old!"
"Exactly. What am I supposed to do, say no when he wants up?"
Gintoki huffs. "You say no to me all the time. Especially during the evening, usually with some lame-ass excuse like your back hurting -- "
He doesn't get out of the way in time.
Better luck tomorrow night, maybe (with some things more than others).
-+-+-+-
Zura's job isn't like Gintoki's. Gintoki's has set hours, set work. At 3 o'clock (or 5 o'clock, if he's been roped into some extracurricular crap), Gintoki grabs his briefcase, hops on his scooter, and is gone before a single student has the audacity to attempt to ask him questions after school hours (optimally -- it rarely works out that way).
The historic and archeologic research job Zura has landed is much more flexible; sometimes he works from home, sometimes he works at the institute at night, sometimes he works on weekends instead of weekdays, sometimes he goes on site visits. Back when Chiro had first come into their lives, it had made things exceptionally easier to adjust to. Most routinely, Zura watches Chiro during the day while Gintoki goes to teach, and if he isn't able to work from home, the kid is dropped off at Sakamoto's until the evening.
Tonight, Gintoki is irrationally angry at the fact that Zura's job is so stupid and abnormal. If Zura were an average salaryman, he wouldn't be gone all evening to sit in some stupid University lab and flick dirt off what Gintoki has always thought of as greater dirt-clumps (but has been repeatedly informed are in actuality "artifacts"). If Zura had a normal nine to five job, he wouldn't have missed all the action.
The moment the other man finally steps in the door, Gintoki demands, "Damnit, did you get my text? Aa? The picture? You can apologise now."
Zura unravels his scarf, blinking dully. After a moment, he pulls out his mobile, flicking it open towards the other man. "You mean this?" It's a picture of their living room carpet. It's stained with cranberry juice (that shit just gets everywhere). "Yes. Thank you. I was really worried about those fibers."
He must have been holding the stupid phone upside down. Damnit! "I was trying to take a picture of Chiro walking. You know, like he's perfectly capable of doing."
"This again?" Zura sighs. "You really need to give it a rest. Where is he?"
"We just got out of the tub. He's on the bed. He walked down the hall to it, thanks."
This isn't even granted a response, and soon they're all sitting on the floor, Zura running his fingers through Chiro's hair as he blowdries it.
"You're going to turn it into an afro," Gintoki grouses, watching the kid's hair get fluffier and fluffier and bigger and bigger. "Then what'll we do, aa? We'll have to say we still love him with straight faces. Do you know how hard that's going to be?"
"It's cute like this," Zura defends, petting the soft, increasingly large perm with a dumb, blushing expression on his face.
"He's not a pomeranian. You need help. You know what else you need help with?"
"Getting that stain out of the carpet. Do that tomorrow, I'm working in the afternoon."
"You need help with your cynicism. You have trust issues, Zura. For example, you don't believe me when I tell you this lazy kid can walk."
"It's not Zura, it's Katsura. And I don't believe you not because I have trust issues, but because it's untrue." The blowdryer is turned off just as Gintoki thinks Chiro's hair might actually start getting too heavy for his head and topple him to the side. "I'll believe it when I see it." With that, the other man stands, picking up the damp towel to return it to the bathroom.
When Zura walks out the door, Chiro gets to his feet and teeter-totters after him.
"ZURAAAAAAAAAAA!" Gintoki screams. "ZUUUUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The smaller man arrives just a moment too late, looking panicked and slamming the door wide. Chiro, in the meantime, has plopped onto his butt just before the threshold. As Zura pants for breath, the kid raises his hands in the universal symbol of "pick me up" or, as Gintoki currently believes it means, "F*ck you, Gintoki."
Funnily enough, Zura is giving him a look that translates to the exact same thing.
-+-+-+-
It keeps happening, these infuriating near-misses, and eventually Gintoki stops feeling bitter enough about it to properly think about it. Still, the only reasons he comes up with are "God hates me" and "Chiro is possessed by Gran, who also hates me, and thinks this is really funny, but it's not funny, you crazy old bat, go back to hell." Chiro never manages to walk to Zura, always puts his hands in the air for 'up.' Zura never manages to believe Gintoki's insistance, and continuously points out the other man has no room to call anyone lazy.
Finally, almost three weeks later, he understands why it keeps happening purely by accident, in the very same location all the trouble started. This time, however, Chiro is curled up on his and Zura's laps, lulled to sleep by the quiet noise from the TV and the thin, careful fingers stroking through his hair. Gintoki watches the digits card gently through the white tufts with an odd, pleased feeling -- he knows how nice it feels to have Zura's soft touch in his hair, and he's happy that he can share such a warm, content feeling with Chiro.
Hell, he's never more relaxed than in moments like these, with his head on Zura's shoulder, Chiro a dozing, heated lump putting their legs resolutely to sleep. Gintoki doubts he'll even be able to stand up and walk to the bedroom after this, but in truth he'd rather stay curled up against Zura than expound the energy --
-- and he gets it.
And now, really... he can't blame him.