Gintama Fan Fiction ❯ salarymen go to heaven ❯ part 6 ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: I don't have any friends…

 

 

* * Part Six: In Which We Analyse how Easy it is to Invoke the Proverbial End * *

 

 

“You have to treat me to dinner,” said Kagura happily.

 

“WHAT?”

 

“Dinner, tomorrow,” she repeated with ever so slightly lessened joy.

 

“I've seen how much you eat, China! There is not even a theoretical chance I'm buying you dinner!”

 

“Dinner. Tomorrow,” she attempted for the third time. The boisterous joy melted from her voice like an ice cream in summer, leaving only the very hard, very sharp stick in the middle that little children choke on.

 

“I am working tomorrow,” stated Okita flatly, still beneath her with limbs stuck out in all four directions and a wildly rocking stomach trying to clasp, summon, invoke, mobilise, kidnap and by any other means acquire enough oxygen to keep the rest of his aching body alive.

 

Kagura frowned down at him, acutely feeling the panting stomach between her thighs. “When are you not working, then?”

 

Okita thought hard to come up with a day when Kagura couldn't find the time to rob him of three months worth of salary and gave it up at once as a futile search. There were many things the two employees of master Freelancer could say they lacked: job security, work ethics, a retirement plan, an actual employer-employee hierarchy; also, try pay, food and dental. But they couldn't say they didn't have vacation time.

 

On the other hand, Okita couldn't think of a single good reason to say no. Apart from the fact it would cost him a tremendous amount of money.

 

Actually, the more he thought of the possibility, the less he wanted to say no. A part of him was saying something about pride and not getting played by a woman; although that same part of him would have him submit to the rules of the game since he lost today. Another part of him was screaming something about this getting too serious and the next thing she'll want are sweet words and commitment and that bullshit and if he said no, she'd mutilate him in ways that would make him useless to other woman.

 

But the quietly omnipresent, honest part that operated on pure desire (with a start he recognised it as the same part of himself which drove him through the blood and steel that was his life in the Shinsengumi), said quite clearly what it wanted. As a matter of fact, yesterday evening it did more than voice out its desires - it had a little demonstration with PowerPoint generated slides; illustrations, graphs and detailed procedure accompanied by adequate background music.

 

“Sundays and Mondays,” he said finally.

 

“Sunday, then,” said Kagura happily and started to get off.

 

Okita grabbed her forearm and brought her down to his lips. “Sunday, then,” he repeated, feeling his own voice become more chipper with every following word. “You know where the Shinsengumi makes base?”

 

Kagura made a non-committing sound. “What about it?”

 

“There's nothing about it, China. I live there. Show up around seven and I'll feed you.”

 

“You should come to pick me up, right? I'm the lady, right? Unless you've been hiding something…” giggled the girl on his stomach.

 

“A lady? Who's been telling you lies, China?” Okita concluded and pressed his lips to hers. With a jolt of greed, he felt the blood from Kagura's cut lip seep into his mouth. More salt, more metallic sweetness, grappled his mind.

 

He suckled roughly on the wounded flesh, distantly surprised that she let him. They've gotten proficient at these little games as of late, scaling the destruction down to dug up earth and themselves. They've also gotten proficient at finding new ways to end up just like this, close, immersed in lustful kisses, spiced with sweat and blood, ending before they could get serious.

 

The clock tower struck one PM and Kagura got to her feet. Kissing him was one thing, but helping Okita up would be beneath her, so she leaned her weight on one leg and watched him shuffle off the ground. There was mud all over their clothes as the final rains of the year bathed the earth in long, cold showers and then in brief sunlight. The last warm days of the year, thought Kagura, wondering if what she just did was something incredibly clever or something incredibly foolish.

 

When they said `dinner' on TV, in soap operas she watched with Gintoki, you got to see the food, but you never got to see them eat it. Either they were endlessly talking over it, ignoring the absolutely delicious-looking array of salads and meats, or they didn't even bother with the food at all and just proceeded to… yes, she might have just done a very stupid thing, conceded her brain.

 

Okita looked at her with an amused smile. She took measure of his slanted figure. “You look like shit.”

 

“You aren't any better, China,” he nodded towards her red clothes, now clogged brown and black by the mud. “And your lip is bleeding.”

 

“That's because you sucked on it, you sadistic bitch!”

 

“I was a sadistic bitch from the day I was born, what is your excuse?” Okita tilted his head towards her, daring her to do better.

 

“I AM NOT SADISTIC!”

 

Okita put a hand on his hip and took a long look down his muddy and battered clothes underneath which there was certainly some muddy and battered flesh. He looked back up at Kagura's fuming face with childlike charm and an equally sweet smile. “…no, absolutely not,” he said and turned on his heel, looking for the unfortunate young man from the Shinsengumi who was burdened with accompanying him this week.

 

“Sunday evening, it's your punishment!” added Kagura just to be on the safe side.

 

“Yeah,” waved Okita over his shoulder, but then stopped and turned with an impish look in his eyes. “Oh, and China?”

 

“What?”

 

“Don't bother dressing up.”

 

 

* *