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rainsometimesOne more Ginzura shortfic! The prompt for this one is taken from a prompt set by the Ginzurafest Twitter account, where the current set of prompts is "excite", "general", and "grace". I chose "grace" but there's an undertone of "general" in it, as there often is when Katsura is involved, even moreso when it's Gintoki/Katsura.
Many thanks totonko for looking this over and correcting it!
Nitpicks and other constructive criticism is very welcome! Or just talking to me about these characters ♥.
Title: If You Have To Wake A Sleepwalker, Be Gentle About It (He May Be Carrying Bombs)
Word Count: 702
Characters/pairing: Gintoki/Katsura
Spoilers/setting: general Gintama time
Prompt: "grace"
Disclaimer: The characters of Gintama belong to their creator Hideaki Sorachi and are used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. They are not to be used for profit in any way.
He sits up in the middle of the night. Something has woken him up – maybe a sharp noise, maybe a threatening shift in air density, maybe just a sudden sense of dread intruding on his dreams – but whatever it was, his body reacts without thinking, and by the time his mind catches up he’s already on his feet by the bedroom window, his hand on the window latch.
He blinks. The window is already ajar – his unconscious hand was trying to coax it to open wider -- and there’s a scent of gardenias and rain mixed with engine exhaust coming through from outside. A car engine is starting up, and there’s a loud domestic argument on the other side of the street. He peers out, but can’t see anything speaking of actual danger. Nor can he hear or sense anything from the rest of the building.
“Zura…? Whatcha doing, already?” Gintoki is saying behind him from the floor. “Where the hell are you going?”
Katsura waits and listens a few more long seconds before replying. “I’m not sure,” he admits.
“Nothing seems to be amiss. It might have been false alarm.”
“Can’t have been a car backfiring,” mutters Gintoki, rolling over and scratching his balls. “I’d have heard that.”
“Hold on, I’ll just check…” murmurs Katsura, turning away from the window and walking with a soft tread through the bedroom and then, carefully, into the living room, still only clad in his underkimono. Leader is snoring in the closet, and Sadaharu’s even rumble is comfortingly present as well. If Sachan-san is around, she’s not projecting any jealous menace. He looks out the living room window as well, then peers through the outer door, finally opening it and looking over the porch and the stairs. Nothing.
He considers making himself a calming cup of tea but decides it wouldn’t be worth the risk of waking up Leader from the noise. Instead, like the secret guest he is, he pads softly back into the bedroom and carefully closes the door behind him, half expecting Gintoki to be asleep again.
Gintoki’s eyes are indeed closed, but when Katsura slips back into the spare futon, he snorts and grumbles, “False alarm, then?”
Katsura shifts closer, wriggling a little in the process. You could almost call this snuggling, but he prefers to think of it as just getting comfortable, in a way he hopes will calm Gintoki down. “I’d be three blocks away by now if it wasn’t,” he says.
Gintoki’s arm loops underneath Katsura’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Idiot.”
“It’s not ‘idiot’, it’s Katsura. And also it’s just prudent. You used to be good at that kind of thing, too.” Indeed, back in their rebel army camps Gintoki would usually have the sharpest intuition of them all, the first one to be alert on his feet when the rest of them hadn’t even started to smell danger.
Gintoki yawns. “Glad I’m not, anymore. Need my sleep these days.”
Katsura supposes he’s glad for Gintoki’s case, too. The man already gets enough sleepless nights as it is. But still… he hopes Gintoki’s instincts will at least be sharp and ready to act the next time there’s a real danger. Gintoki’s not the kind of man who can truly lead a quiet life through and through.
“Tch,” he says. “The very first time I met you, you were waking up from a nap. It was the same then, already.”
“Hmmhm.” Gintoki doesn’t bother arguing back. He smells sleepy and content, not protesting when Katsura puts one hand inside his pajamas top just because it seems to rest well there.
“Good old anchor,” mumbles Katsura, already drifting off again. “Best one for this old rowboat.”
“Who’re you calling an anchor? Damn lunatic,” mutters Gintoki, but their lips meet in a kiss all the same. “Rowboat… thass not a rowboat, thass Zura…” he trails off, and a minute or two later he’s already snoring.
Katsura’s mind isn’t quite ready for the port of sleep again yet. But he welcomes the deep calm that envelops his senses and limbs while Edo quarrels, blooms and slumbers in the summer night around them. All moving imperceptibly towards dawn.
Many thanks to
tonko for looking this over and correcting it! Nitpicks and other constructive criticism is very welcome! Or just talking to me about these characters ♥.
Title: If You Have To Wake A Sleepwalker, Be Gentle About It (
Word Count: 702
Characters/pairing: Gintoki/Katsura
Spoilers/setting: general Gintama time
Prompt: "grace"
Disclaimer: The characters of Gintama belong to their creator Hideaki Sorachi and are used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. They are not to be used for profit in any way.
He sits up in the middle of the night. Something has woken him up – maybe a sharp noise, maybe a threatening shift in air density, maybe just a sudden sense of dread intruding on his dreams – but whatever it was, his body reacts without thinking, and by the time his mind catches up he’s already on his feet by the bedroom window, his hand on the window latch.
He blinks. The window is already ajar – his unconscious hand was trying to coax it to open wider -- and there’s a scent of gardenias and rain mixed with engine exhaust coming through from outside. A car engine is starting up, and there’s a loud domestic argument on the other side of the street. He peers out, but can’t see anything speaking of actual danger. Nor can he hear or sense anything from the rest of the building.
“Zura…? Whatcha doing, already?” Gintoki is saying behind him from the floor. “Where the hell are you going?”
Katsura waits and listens a few more long seconds before replying. “I’m not sure,” he admits.
“Nothing seems to be amiss. It might have been false alarm.”
“Can’t have been a car backfiring,” mutters Gintoki, rolling over and scratching his balls. “I’d have heard that.”
“Hold on, I’ll just check…” murmurs Katsura, turning away from the window and walking with a soft tread through the bedroom and then, carefully, into the living room, still only clad in his underkimono. Leader is snoring in the closet, and Sadaharu’s even rumble is comfortingly present as well. If Sachan-san is around, she’s not projecting any jealous menace. He looks out the living room window as well, then peers through the outer door, finally opening it and looking over the porch and the stairs. Nothing.
He considers making himself a calming cup of tea but decides it wouldn’t be worth the risk of waking up Leader from the noise. Instead, like the secret guest he is, he pads softly back into the bedroom and carefully closes the door behind him, half expecting Gintoki to be asleep again.
Gintoki’s eyes are indeed closed, but when Katsura slips back into the spare futon, he snorts and grumbles, “False alarm, then?”
Katsura shifts closer, wriggling a little in the process. You could almost call this snuggling, but he prefers to think of it as just getting comfortable, in a way he hopes will calm Gintoki down. “I’d be three blocks away by now if it wasn’t,” he says.
Gintoki’s arm loops underneath Katsura’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Idiot.”
“It’s not ‘idiot’, it’s Katsura. And also it’s just prudent. You used to be good at that kind of thing, too.” Indeed, back in their rebel army camps Gintoki would usually have the sharpest intuition of them all, the first one to be alert on his feet when the rest of them hadn’t even started to smell danger.
Gintoki yawns. “Glad I’m not, anymore. Need my sleep these days.”
Katsura supposes he’s glad for Gintoki’s case, too. The man already gets enough sleepless nights as it is. But still… he hopes Gintoki’s instincts will at least be sharp and ready to act the next time there’s a real danger. Gintoki’s not the kind of man who can truly lead a quiet life through and through.
“Tch,” he says. “The very first time I met you, you were waking up from a nap. It was the same then, already.”
“Hmmhm.” Gintoki doesn’t bother arguing back. He smells sleepy and content, not protesting when Katsura puts one hand inside his pajamas top just because it seems to rest well there.
“Good old anchor,” mumbles Katsura, already drifting off again. “Best one for this old rowboat.”
“Who’re you calling an anchor? Damn lunatic,” mutters Gintoki, but their lips meet in a kiss all the same. “Rowboat… thass not a rowboat, thass Zura…” he trails off, and a minute or two later he’s already snoring.
Katsura’s mind isn’t quite ready for the port of sleep again yet. But he welcomes the deep calm that envelops his senses and limbs while Edo quarrels, blooms and slumbers in the summer night around them. All moving imperceptibly towards dawn.