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rainsometimesWanted to put this on Dreamwidth as well, even if fic comments here are very rare these days.
Fic title: There's No Together, There's No Apart, There's Only Impossible Longing
Chapter title: Prologue: Back then
Word Count: 988 words
Fandom: Gintama
Fic status: in progress
Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura/Takasugi: Gintoki/Katsura, Katsura/Takasugi, Takasugi/Gintoki
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Setting: Starts before canon, ends after it. Final chapter will contain post-manga scenes and be very spoilery for the manga ending.
Flavour: Angsty, but hopefully with a relatively happy ending (that's the plan at least)
Summary: A story about Gintoki, Katsura and Takasugi told through various scenes and fragments.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This work is about the Gintoki/Katsura/Takasugi trio as one ship and also as GinTaka, GinZura and TakaZura. It's told through various scenes, some pretty fragmentary, that start from before canon starts and ends several years later. Not all scenes are in strict chronological order.
Projected as three chapters and a prologue but if the final chapter turns out too long it may be split up.
The posted chapters have been betaed by Plipdragon (syl_pli on Twitter/eclipseofshadows on Tumblr, who does great Gintama meta). I am very grateful to them for all their work and heartening encouragement. ♥ ♥♥ Any remaining errors are my responsibility alone. Constructive criticism is very welcome, nitpicks included! As is feedback in general. I'd love to hear how readers find the fic so far!
I also want to thank everyone who's seen various snippets of this fic and have encouraged me to keep writing!! ♥
DISCLAIMER etc: The characters of Gintama are created and owned by Hideaki Sorachi. They're used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. This fic may not be used for profit in any way, and should not be reposted elsewhere without the writer's approval, especially not to any sites using ad revenue.
Prologue: Back then
It had been a hot and humid day, over one year away from the end of the war. Gintoki had gone with Takasugi to a downed enemy scouting ship to strip it of machinery and anything else they could use. The ship had already been judged beyond repair, at least with the resources of the rebel army, so the aim now was to take what they could and sabotage the ship so the Amanto and the Bakufu couldn’t use it either if they got their hands on it again. The plan had been to bring a Kiheitai soldier with actual engineer training with him, but he’d fallen ill from a snake bite last night, so they’d just have to make do. As there weren’t any men to spare, they went just the two of them, disregarding Zura’s pleas to be more careful and tactical.
But just like scouts had said before, the enemy wasn’t anywhere near here, and they made it to the ship with only themselves to fight. And as for that, the weather took a lot of the energy out of Gintoki’s pushing, and Takasugi also seemed more weary than usual, slower to push back, as if distracted.
Working in that small, wrecked hull, tearing off cables and gathering fuel, Gintoki had thought at the time he would rather have had Zura there. It was too hot for fighting with Takasugi. Even if Zura had only been in a nagging, fussy mood, unable to be convinced into some making out and a quickie, there was still something soothing about Zura’s presence, something almost waterlike.
But none of that mattered in the end; not the heat or the humidity or the pair of hands that wasn’t there, no what-ifs, if-onlys and but-what-if-the-enemy-attacks-after all -- none of that mattered. Because that was the day when Takasugi reached out, that was the day he put his hands on him hard enough to leave bruises, but followed with angry kisses full of fire, fierce and urgent. First he’d pushed Gintoki up against the hull of the downed airship, but when Gintoki spun the two around, Takasugi only growled and seized him harder, nails digging in. The heat was getting to Gintoki's head, even here in the shade, and the air smelled chokingly of gasoline and burnt-out engines amidst all the summer flowers; their movements as they touched each other, undressed and dropped their clothes were awkward and uneven, a clumsy dance that seemed hundreds of miles away from the elegance when they fought side by side. It was all confusion and uncertainty, and getting caught with their literal trousers down would be deeply embarrassing if it were their troops and the last mistake they might ever make if it was the other side. None of that mattered. It was inconvenient, unsoothing, hotly blazing, and there’d been no chance in hell that Gintoki could have even tried to think about anything else other than staying right where he was, seizing and being seized.
Takasugi said nothing afterwards as they put their clothes back on, loaded their packs with as much equipment as they could carry, and started to walk back to the camp. Gintoki held his tongue as well, having no idea what to say. About halfway back, they crossed a marshy piece of ground with many treacherous tufts of grass. Takasugi misstepped on one of them and swore as he plunged into a puddle. Gintoki called him a clumsy idiot. Takasugi told him to go to hell, but his foot seemed to be stuck, so Gintoki walked back and held his hand out. Takasugi swatted it away and freed his foot on his own, scowling as he strode past.
“Sheesh, what the fuck? You’re even worse than usual. I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Gintoki said, because if the little shit was going to be like this then he could just forget about Gintoki keeping up some kind of Manly Silence about what they’d just done.
Takasugi looked back at him over his shoulder, glared first, but then eased his expression into a sneer. “I’ve had worse,” he said. “But Zura was better.”
That made Gintoki in turn stumble, but he managed to avoid falling into water himself. “You and Zura? Since when?” He hurried to catch up.
Takasugi shrugged, looking at the treacherous ground now. “The other day. You know, you two are so laughable when you’re trying to hide it. The way you look at and touch each other…” He curled his lips in distaste. “Even Sakamoto could see something was going on. You’re pathetic.”
Gintoki flushed. They had thought they were being careful, dammit! “What – you – so what! It’s not hurting anyone! And we just…” He swallowed and licked his lips, his mouth dry. He forced himself to keep his tone low, “Were you just trying to make some kind of idiotic fucking point back there, you bastard?”
That was when Takasugi had chuckled, the tension easing in his shoulders, which only made Gintoki more ticked off. They’d cleared the marshy ground at this point. Takasugi looked off towards the hillside in front of them; once they climbed it, they’d be able to see the camp. “I suppose I was,” he said, shrugging. “You can’t keep something like that just for yourselves. You’re not allowed.”
Gintoki gaped for a few seconds, before hurrying up. “You goddamn jealous prick,” he hissed, but Takasugi was moving ahead and might not have caught it. Gintoki wiped the sweat from his hair and swore, too hot and too off-balance.
But he was tucking the fresh memory away of those moments, all the same, of those touches and sounds, the way he’d made Takasugi look and move, the way he’d been handled in return… Even if there had been jealousy and spite behind it, it still felt like grace to him.
And it was the only time it ever happened, back then.
Continued in Chapter 1
Fic title: There's No Together, There's No Apart, There's Only Impossible Longing
Chapter title: Prologue: Back then
Word Count: 988 words
Fandom: Gintama
Fic status: in progress
Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura/Takasugi: Gintoki/Katsura, Katsura/Takasugi, Takasugi/Gintoki
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Setting: Starts before canon, ends after it. Final chapter will contain post-manga scenes and be very spoilery for the manga ending.
Flavour: Angsty, but hopefully with a relatively happy ending (that's the plan at least)
Summary: A story about Gintoki, Katsura and Takasugi told through various scenes and fragments.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This work is about the Gintoki/Katsura/Takasugi trio as one ship and also as GinTaka, GinZura and TakaZura. It's told through various scenes, some pretty fragmentary, that start from before canon starts and ends several years later. Not all scenes are in strict chronological order.
Projected as three chapters and a prologue but if the final chapter turns out too long it may be split up.
The posted chapters have been betaed by Plipdragon (syl_pli on Twitter/eclipseofshadows on Tumblr, who does great Gintama meta). I am very grateful to them for all their work and heartening encouragement. ♥ ♥♥ Any remaining errors are my responsibility alone. Constructive criticism is very welcome, nitpicks included! As is feedback in general. I'd love to hear how readers find the fic so far!
I also want to thank everyone who's seen various snippets of this fic and have encouraged me to keep writing!! ♥
DISCLAIMER etc: The characters of Gintama are created and owned by Hideaki Sorachi. They're used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. This fic may not be used for profit in any way, and should not be reposted elsewhere without the writer's approval, especially not to any sites using ad revenue.
Prologue: Back then
It had been a hot and humid day, over one year away from the end of the war. Gintoki had gone with Takasugi to a downed enemy scouting ship to strip it of machinery and anything else they could use. The ship had already been judged beyond repair, at least with the resources of the rebel army, so the aim now was to take what they could and sabotage the ship so the Amanto and the Bakufu couldn’t use it either if they got their hands on it again. The plan had been to bring a Kiheitai soldier with actual engineer training with him, but he’d fallen ill from a snake bite last night, so they’d just have to make do. As there weren’t any men to spare, they went just the two of them, disregarding Zura’s pleas to be more careful and tactical.
But just like scouts had said before, the enemy wasn’t anywhere near here, and they made it to the ship with only themselves to fight. And as for that, the weather took a lot of the energy out of Gintoki’s pushing, and Takasugi also seemed more weary than usual, slower to push back, as if distracted.
Working in that small, wrecked hull, tearing off cables and gathering fuel, Gintoki had thought at the time he would rather have had Zura there. It was too hot for fighting with Takasugi. Even if Zura had only been in a nagging, fussy mood, unable to be convinced into some making out and a quickie, there was still something soothing about Zura’s presence, something almost waterlike.
But none of that mattered in the end; not the heat or the humidity or the pair of hands that wasn’t there, no what-ifs, if-onlys and but-what-if-the-enemy-attacks-after all -- none of that mattered. Because that was the day when Takasugi reached out, that was the day he put his hands on him hard enough to leave bruises, but followed with angry kisses full of fire, fierce and urgent. First he’d pushed Gintoki up against the hull of the downed airship, but when Gintoki spun the two around, Takasugi only growled and seized him harder, nails digging in. The heat was getting to Gintoki's head, even here in the shade, and the air smelled chokingly of gasoline and burnt-out engines amidst all the summer flowers; their movements as they touched each other, undressed and dropped their clothes were awkward and uneven, a clumsy dance that seemed hundreds of miles away from the elegance when they fought side by side. It was all confusion and uncertainty, and getting caught with their literal trousers down would be deeply embarrassing if it were their troops and the last mistake they might ever make if it was the other side. None of that mattered. It was inconvenient, unsoothing, hotly blazing, and there’d been no chance in hell that Gintoki could have even tried to think about anything else other than staying right where he was, seizing and being seized.
Takasugi said nothing afterwards as they put their clothes back on, loaded their packs with as much equipment as they could carry, and started to walk back to the camp. Gintoki held his tongue as well, having no idea what to say. About halfway back, they crossed a marshy piece of ground with many treacherous tufts of grass. Takasugi misstepped on one of them and swore as he plunged into a puddle. Gintoki called him a clumsy idiot. Takasugi told him to go to hell, but his foot seemed to be stuck, so Gintoki walked back and held his hand out. Takasugi swatted it away and freed his foot on his own, scowling as he strode past.
“Sheesh, what the fuck? You’re even worse than usual. I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Gintoki said, because if the little shit was going to be like this then he could just forget about Gintoki keeping up some kind of Manly Silence about what they’d just done.
Takasugi looked back at him over his shoulder, glared first, but then eased his expression into a sneer. “I’ve had worse,” he said. “But Zura was better.”
That made Gintoki in turn stumble, but he managed to avoid falling into water himself. “You and Zura? Since when?” He hurried to catch up.
Takasugi shrugged, looking at the treacherous ground now. “The other day. You know, you two are so laughable when you’re trying to hide it. The way you look at and touch each other…” He curled his lips in distaste. “Even Sakamoto could see something was going on. You’re pathetic.”
Gintoki flushed. They had thought they were being careful, dammit! “What – you – so what! It’s not hurting anyone! And we just…” He swallowed and licked his lips, his mouth dry. He forced himself to keep his tone low, “Were you just trying to make some kind of idiotic fucking point back there, you bastard?”
That was when Takasugi had chuckled, the tension easing in his shoulders, which only made Gintoki more ticked off. They’d cleared the marshy ground at this point. Takasugi looked off towards the hillside in front of them; once they climbed it, they’d be able to see the camp. “I suppose I was,” he said, shrugging. “You can’t keep something like that just for yourselves. You’re not allowed.”
Gintoki gaped for a few seconds, before hurrying up. “You goddamn jealous prick,” he hissed, but Takasugi was moving ahead and might not have caught it. Gintoki wiped the sweat from his hair and swore, too hot and too off-balance.
But he was tucking the fresh memory away of those moments, all the same, of those touches and sounds, the way he’d made Takasugi look and move, the way he’d been handled in return… Even if there had been jealousy and spite behind it, it still felt like grace to him.
And it was the only time it ever happened, back then.
Continued in Chapter 1