Chapter Text
Shinsengumi HQ, common room, 10:42 PM. Everyone’s drunk. This is Sougo’s fault.
“I dare you,” Kagura said, cheeks flushed, finger pointed dramatically, “to sit on the Demon Vice-Commander’s lap for one minute. No breaking eye contact. ”
Gintoki blinked. “Only a minute?”
Hijikata, halfway through pouring himself another glass of sake, paused. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh, I dare,” Gintoki purred, already swaggering over. “Rules are rules, Hijikata. You don’t want to dishonor the sacred game of Truth or Dare, do you?”
“I’d rather impale myself on my katana,” Hijikata muttered—but made no move to stop him.
Too late.
Gintoki slid into his lap like it was a damn throne, arms casually draped over Hijikata’s shoulders. Their faces were inches apart. Gintoki’s legs? Spread. On purpose.
“Comfy?” he asked sweetly.
Hijikata stared. “You’ve got ten seconds before I break your neck.”
“Ten seconds? Oh, baby, I can do a lot in ten seconds.” Gintoki leaned in, their noses brushing. “But rules are rules.”
Thirty seconds in, Hijikata hadn’t moved. His jaw was clenched. His eye was twitching.
Gintoki? Was enjoying himself way too much.
“You know,” he whispered, voice low and syrupy, “your thighs are a lot firmer than I imagined. Do you squat for fun or—?”
“I swear to god , Sakata—”
“—or are you just naturally gifted? Should I start calling you Mr. Steel-Legs? Vice-Commander Thighs?”
A choking sound came from Yamazaki in the corner.
“One minute!” Kagura yelled.
But Gintoki didn’t move.
“…Get off,” Hijikata growled.
Gintoki smirked. “Make me.”
Hijikata grabbed him by the collar.
Gintoki beamed . “Knew you were into rough stuff.”
Kondo passed out from blood loss.
Sougo just whispered, “Best. Night. Ever.”
Gintoki didn’t budge. In fact, he relaxed , settling deeper into Hijikata’s lap like they were old lovers in the middle of a cozy cuddle session.
Hijikata, meanwhile, looked like he was going through all five stages of grief at once.
“Why are you so warm,” Gintoki murmured thoughtfully, shifting just enough to make it worse . “This uniform’s gotta be heat-insulated or something. Or maybe you’re just naturally hot.”
Hijikata’s eyebrow twitched. “I will end you.”
“Will you, though?” Gintoki leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “Because so far, all you’ve done is sit there and let me rub my ass on your thighs.”
There was a pause.
Sougo was holding up his phone. Yamazaki was praying to a higher power.
Kagura was giggling behind a bag of chips.
“You’re enjoying this,” Hijikata said through gritted teeth.
“Can’t lie to you, Vice-Commander,” Gintoki drawled, breath ghosting over Hijikata’s lips. “There’s something weirdly satisfying about making you sweat without even trying.”
“I’m not sweating.”
“Oh? Then what’s this?” Gintoki traced a finger down the side of Hijikata’s face, right past his temple.
Hijikata caught his wrist.
“Get. Off.”
Gintoki grinned. “Say ‘please.’”
“ Sakata. ”
“I’ll take that as a ‘please sit harder.’”
Sougo audibly snorted.
Kondo, barely conscious on the floor, groaned out, “Just get married already…”
And in the middle of it all, Gintoki tilted his head, eyes half-lidded, and whispered—just loud enough for Hijikata to hear:
“…You’re not actually gonna throw me off, are you?”
The grip on his wrist tightened.
And then, without warning—Hijikata stood up.
With Gintoki still in his arms.
“Wh—” Gintoki yelped, scrambling for balance. “What the hell are you—?!”
“You wanted attention,” Hijikata muttered, marching toward the hallway. “Congratulations. You got mine.”
The door slammed behind them.
Yamazaki dropped his glass.
Sougo grinned at the camera. “Fanservice level: 200%.”