LOG; GINTOKI + SAKAMOTO, ONGOING

[canicrynow.livejournal.com]

When; Thursday, the night of the curse.
Rating; F for Faggotry hur hur, PG-13 for mature themes and slaaaaaaaash
Characters; Sakata Gintoki (ginironosora) + Sakamoto Tatsuma (canicrynow)
Summary; The City's curses get suddenly cruel for many of its former samurai.
Log;



They can blame us all they want. We aren't guilty of anything, and don't you ever think it's true. Everyone entered the war knowing the consequences-- I'm just thankful I was able to protect you, Zura, and Taka...


Tatsuma could have said, 'wonder what?' and defused the possibility of an uncomfortable situation. He honestly could have, but his environment, the ghosts, the everything...well, there was a limit to even Sakamoto Tatsuma's positive thinking and his coping mechanism was growing thin. The stress was getting to him.

Instead of acting like an idiot and asking Gintoki to continue and share more, he leaned against the slightly shoddy table in the kitchen, staring back across at the veranda as he uncapped the bottle of cheap, obviously home-brew liquor that he'd picked up a moment ago. It was cool against his throat. He'd been crying for a while on the veranda when they'd appeared. He'd avoided all other contact until he felt he could face the world as a man steadily growing closer to middle age than he was to youth.

A small line of the clear liquid fell down his chin and he wiped it with the back of his arm, tapping his thigh with the glass bottle. The one still wrapped tightly beneath his pants.

"Thankful even about that Takasugi fellow?"

Comments

[canicrynow.livejournal.com]

He favored Gintoki with another smoke-toned laugh, smiling to let Gintoki know that neither one of those things were true, because a smile could be the only real way to do it. Especially now, with the wine stripping away any of the eloquence Tatsuma could show. The scarf around his neck was getting in the way now; he tugged it off, tossed it into the pile. Sometimes, he really did think he wore too many layers.

He left one hand in the other man's hair, the free one falling to wrap around Gintoki's back, enjoying the broadness for a moment before his head bobbed. It was late, he was worn out from the stupid City's stupidness and he was drunk off his balls.

But this was nice and he'd do it again.

"'M really drunk, Kintoki."

[ginironosora.livejournal.com]

The silver-haired freelancer laughed too, a warm chuckle that sounded pleasant on his own ears. Things seemed to be winding down, and that was a plus. He wrapped long arms around Tatsuma and leaned back, pulling the other with him to lay down on the table and hugged him tight. "I am too, Tatsumo... I am too."

Gintoki buried his nose in Sakamoto's hair, breathing in his scent-- leathery and spicy. He liked it. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy, starting to drift off. The ghosts should be gone in a few hours anyways, right? They didn't have anything to worry about.

[canicrynow.livejournal.com]

Winding down was one way to put it. Tatsuma never had been able to hold his liquor very well, less so on an empty stomach. And as much as it could be said that under normal circumstances he would have objected to sleeping on an old friend on the kitchen table, that was basically patently untrue.

The breath in his hair was rhythmic and drowsy. They would be sore when they woke up, the roommates might be scarred, but that was alright. They would just have to learn how to laugh it off.

He kicked his geta off and told himself not too snore too loudly.