Dirty Love

The images flashing through his head were dark and vague and foreboding, and the cuts on his skin and the blood gushing from within opened and closed and simultaneously exploded in slow motion. There were screams—it was obviously a battlefield, but it was difficult to see who he was fighting and who he was fighting for. Fire, and lasers. Burning through the skin of his forehead, then piercing his eyes.

A shadow of black, with great black wings, reached out to him, wanting to strangle him. He screamed his name.

This was where it always ended, and Gintoki's red eyes opened wide.

His heart rate was up; his breathing was quick and ragged; his fingers were clutching the tattered edges of his old futon. When he let out a sigh and rolled over, he felt the dampness on his back.

The familiar sight of the hole in the roof of the Yorozuya greeted him. He instinctually looked to where his closet was, half-expecting it to be partially open with a pale leg dangling out, but he was only greeted with emptiness.

Nightmares were never new to Gintoki. Dreams have always been more difficult when you've allowed yourself to kill someone else. Recently, he'd had to do a lot of that to save Edo, and it's been a short while since they succeeded.

However, Kagura took a temporary leave with her batshit crazy brother to help out the severely injured Baldy, who gave his all during the war. Shinpachi had to help rebuild the Shimuras' home with Otae. In fact, everyone he knew had homes they needed to rebuild. And the Yorozuya danna found that he had had to face the evenings alone.

"'bout time you woke up."

He blinked in confusion. Wait, did he really go to sleep alone? Had he spent a lot of time being dramatic and emotive when he was probably just hungover from doing this and that with some lady (or boomerang granny?) he got from the red light district?

Wait, he reminded himself. The red light districts are in shambles now, and as hectic his work as an Odd Jobs boss had been, he wouldn't have time for that kind of thing anyway. Except…

"Over here," the familiar voice told him, and he turned around to the other side of the futon. Thankfully, there was only empty space beside him, and he caught a glimpse of a lap and a pair of legs clad in black.

Gintoki clicked his tongue. "No matter how many times it happens, Gin-chan'll never get used to wakin' up with a strange woman beside him," he mumbled.

"It's noon. If ya bought a woman to spend the night, she probably already stole yer wallet and high-tailed outta here. Hero or not." The strange woman sighed, and smoke freely flowed out of her mouth.

"Then that woman's screwed. Nothin' there but my kids' mugshots and a 5 year old condom." Gintoki stretched lazily and finally willed himself to sit up from his futon and to look Tsukuyo in the eye. "So? What's the terminator want from me this early in the morning?"

The woman had a neutral face on, but it was as menacing as it was pretty. Enchanting, if he allowed himself to use a fancier word. It didn't matter whether she had those self-inflicted scars over her brow and cheek. If anything, they only brought his attention to her mesmerizing eyes each time, and he gets sucked in them more often than he cared to admit. "Need ya for another job in Yoshiwara," she said in a low voice. She hated asking for his help, but since the Earth got almost destroyed and the underground city was three-quarters rubble and one-quarter ash, she needed Odd Jobs more and more often.

And it wasn't for the heavy stuff that he used to do for them, either. At the brink of destruction, only the women remained in the city, and the Hyakka's force had been cut in half. Nowadays, the Saviour of Yoshiwara merely had to do menial jobs to keep his title.

"Hm. What's it this time? Roof tiles or pest control or wheelchair repair?"

"… all of the above, actually," muttered Tsukuyo, turning away with some hint of embarrassment in her eyes.

Gintoki picked his nose absently. "Ya know, Tsukuyo, I've been spending so much time helpin' you guys out in Yoshiwara that I might as well just live there as your in-house handyman."

"Hmph. Well, it's better than living in this pile of dirt that ya call an apartment. Seriously, ya won't even bother fixin' that hole in the roof. What will you do when it starts raining?" she said with distaste plain in her voice.

He gave her a lazy and knowing smirk. "Don't look down on it, Tsukky. You looked like you didn't mind a couple nights ago when you kept me company."

Her face turned beet red. It didn't matter that they have been meeting to do this and that for some time now; she'd still get embarrassed when he reminded her of it. And it was worth it seeing that cute hue to her face, even when she occasionally prodded him with sharp knives after his remarks.

This time, though, she settled with a fist to his face. The blow wasn't so hard to knock him unconscious, but hard enough that a thin line of blood flowed from a cut at his forehead. "Y-you pervert. Don't make such lewd comments with such a perverted face on you, you retard."

He rubbed the point of impact on his forehead. "Geez. For someone who spends a lotta time around prostitutes and sex toys, you're still a prude when it comes to things like this," he grumbled.

Nevertheless, he reached for her hand and pulled her closer. With a surprised sound escaping her mouth, she crashed softly onto the futon and onto him.

Her big purple eyes looked up into his own. The warmth from her cheeks radiated onto his face, and it wasn't unpleasant. "W-what are you doing? I just told you we needed you for work—"

"It's early. And the weather's nice. Let's warm up first. It's bad to exercise without doing stretching exercises and cardio."

"It's already noon, you lazy bastard—" Whatever her complaint was, it was cut off when Gintoki's mouth landed on hers. The taste of nicotine and menthol flooded his senses and numbed the pain from his head and the other parts of him that was triggered by the nightmare. Tsukuyo opened her mouth slightly, and his tongue made its way inside, exploring, tasting, teasing.

She broke the kiss, albeit reluctantly. "Seriously, Gintoki. We need to go," she said unconvincingly, her hands making their way inside his robe and over his chest.

He snickered. "I told ya, we need a warm-up first. What would you do if you get a cramp here?" Without warning, his hand made its way through the thigh-high slit of her dark kimono to playfully grope her ass. She gasped, and this only made him want to fondle that area more.

"… make it quick then, you slacker," she said.

No other words needed to be spoken. In the next millisecond, his mouth was on hers again, and his hands were busy fumbling to loosen her obi and to pull off her dark kimono. In turn, she briskly and successfully tore off his sleeping clothes, and he was down to his strawberry-print boxers before he knew it.

"Oi, I don't have any other pajamas, you terminator," he scolded.

"Just sleep in the nude, bastard." And just like that, she took over the dominant role, like she usually did. She shrugged off the heavy kimono and discarded it at the side, leaving her with just her dark, lacy underwear, and Gintoki figured that she went in his apartment half-expecting them to get down and dirty anyway.

She was on top of him now, making out with him as if her life depended on it, barely stopping for air. Gintoki managed to unhook the damn bra after many failed attempts (the clasp had been in front, and not at the back), and her breasts presented themselves to him in all their glory.

"Shit. Look at these puppies. I'll never get tired of playin' with your jugs, Tsukky."

Her face turned red once more. There was a time long ago where just accidentally touching them would bring about almost lethal injuries to him, and he was grateful that those days were over. Before she could retort or physically incapacitate him, his mouth covered one breast and massaged the other one. He sucked and nibbled and pinched pleasurably, and the way the woman on top of him moaned and grinded her hips made him harder and harder.

His free hand sneaked its way down there, and he felt the dampness soaking her underwear. She inhaled sharply as he roughly pushed the garment aside and instantly put two fingers inside her.

She glared at him, to which he only said, "You said we should make it quick."

And as quickly as he promised, he massaged her down there, with his thumb rubbing her sensitive nub through her underwear. He continued peppering kisses over her chest and neck, enjoying the scent of her and the feel of her sweat over his bare skin. She moaned his name over and over, and soon her inner walls contracted rhythmically, and her back arched along with her release.

He pulled his fingers out of her. "You are so freakin' wet," he said triumphantly.

She panted as she tried to catch her breath. "Shut up." She pulled down those ridiculous boxers, and his member stood in attention. Before he could say anything, her mouth and her delicate hands were around him, skilfully sucking him and rubbing him down.

It was good, so good, and he muttered this over and over, his head pushing down on his pillow as Tsukuyo put him deep inside her mouth. When he felt very close to his climax, it took much of his willpower to take her head in his hands to stop her.

"Come here," he said in a ragged voice, and Tsukuyo crawled on top of him. Her mouth was on his again, that same hungry rhythm not slowing down one bit. He pushed himself inside her, slowly at first, revelling the sound of her sharp intake of breath as she felt him being one with her inch by inch. As promised before, they'd have to make it quick, and Gintoki's thrusts came faster and deeper than before.

Tsukuyo moaned and whimpered and ground her hips in pleasure—she was all tightness and heat and fire, and soon she climaxed again. The sweet, rhythmic throb was enough to make him climax as well, and he emptied himself inside of her.

She fell on top of him soon after that, and the rise and fall of their chests and the rapid beating of their hearts occurred in sync. A soft, warm glow enveloped the two of them, and it was not unpleasant at all.

Gintoki held her close and kissed her on the forehead. "Right. Time for a nap," he said.

She slapped him on the face. "Idiot. Get up now," she said irately.

"… Five minutes, please, Tsukky."

She cursed at him. "I'll freshen up in the bathroom. You better be dressed by the time I'm done, you lazy bastard." She gathered her clothes in a pile and carried these to the lavatory, leaving him to lazily stare at the hole in the roof.

Somehow, Tsukuyo managed to get him out of that dump that he called home, and within the next fifteen minutes, they were walking through the irregular piles of bricks and lumber that people still fondly called Kabuki-cho. The resilience of people in general put her in awe, and she felt slightly bad that she frequently borrowed one of the strongest people who stabilized the district.

… even though said person might not be as stable as he claimed. She didn't bring it up with him, but earlier that day she was watching him toss and turn and break into a cold sweat, in the clutches of another nightmare. It wasn't the first time she saw it—it was bound to happen during one of the nights that she kept him company—and it was always enough to distress her as well.

She never had the courage to ask him about it. What nightmares could the legendary Shiroyasha have, after all? And she knew about nightmares, and her opinion was that talking about them was not a good subject for pillow talk. And that having to face them alone in a dump—on a futon, all alone—was not ideal, no matter what the socio-economic situation was around them.

Thinking about how his eyes flew open in terror—and maybe how her heart throbbed in her chest whenever she saw his eyes, anyway—inspired her to steel her resolve to ask him a question. "Hey, Gintoki."

"Yeah?"

"You should move out of that dump and live with me, instead."

So it didn't end up as a question. He stared at her incredulously, and the pinky that was usually practiced in its movements fishing out mounds and mounds of boogers from his nose now produced a gush of blood from one nostril.

"O-oi. What are you talking about all of a sudden?"

"Don't make me repeat myself," she said with a firm tone, cursing the scarlet creeping up to her cheeks.

"U-um, I understand that maybe it's 'cause your knowledge of dating might be limited to sleazy two-timing bastards paying their way into puff-puff privileges with a woman, but that's not how you—"

"Do you really want to stay alone there forever, Gintoki?"

He scratched the back of his head. "It's not the Ritz, but it's my house. And it's not going to be forever. Once Edo's all repaired, and Kagura and Patsuan fix their own things, then…"

He must have realized at that moment that what he was hoping for might be impossible, because his gaze dropped to the floor. Tsukuyo sighed. This man was too sentimental for his own good. "Forget I said anything."

She tried not to regret saying anything, she really did. She turned on her heel and planned to walk at a faster pace, but a strong hand clamped on her shoulder, making her stop in her tracks.

"… why do you care anyway, Tsukuyo?"

His red eyes were on her, daring her to speak up.

"I don't want you to face your nightmares alone anymore," she said softly. "At least, not in the morning, when you wake up."

The next thing she knew, her head was on his shoulder, and his strong arms went around her small body. She marvelled at the strength she felt in his grip and the fragility in his embrace.

".. idiot. Might as well have asked me to marry ya."

She wasn't certain that she heard it well, but later on in their long walk to Yoshiwara, Tsukuyo allowed his warm hand to enclose around hers on the rest of the way.

-end-

AN: This is my first time writing explicit smut. I am sorry if it is awkward orz
I don't know how the angst part in this story came to be but I guess that's just how Zetsubou I am, the angst just writes itself hahaha
I… I want Dia and Block to be real… huhuhu