Greetings! I come with a new, slightly disturbing HijiGin fic! I will give full disclosure and admit I am also more than a little tipsy at the moment. Ah, well, it is what it is. This story is completely the product of my rather disturbed and perverted imagination. It is obviously unbeta'd (I've had 3 hurricanes, 2 buttery nipples, 2 Sex on Baker Streets and 4 Mike's Hard Lemonades so it's clearly not reviewed by anyone). And, I so don't own Gintama or any of it's characters. If I did, Hijikata and Gin would be dancing the horizontal mambo every other chapter!

"Quit pushing me!" someone hissed.

Another grumbled, "Ugh, it's hot in here."

"And, it smells like Gin-san's feet," a third person chimed in.

Hijikata was fairly certain the last voice belonged to that Shimura kid. He had to rely on his ears to determine where everyone was and who was speaking because they were all currently jammed together in a tiny, pitch-black closet. It was extremely cramped and highly uncomfortable. Hijikata was hot, sweaty, and had left irritable behind some time ago.

"Oi, oi. That's not nice, Shinpachi. You're hurting Gin-san's feelings."

These words were spoken mildly not five inches from Hijikata's face, accompanied by a waft of sweet-scented breath. He gnashed his teeth together and vehemently swore to himself he would force every last one of them to commit seppuku once they managed to escape their current predicament. As was becoming the norm of his life thanks to coincidence, fate, and sadistic authors, the yorozuya had once again become embroiled in a case the Shinsengumi were investigating. Now, Hijikata, Gintoki, Okita, the Shimura kid, and six other Shinsengumi were packed together in a closet, hiding from about fifty armed Amanto. Damn, he really wanted a cigarette right about now.

There were some other general grumblings, but he tuned them out. He had his own problems to deal with. There was an elbow lodged quite painfully in his side. Every breath he took caused the sharp little fucker to dig in deeper. And, though Shimura could complain all he wanted about the smell of Gintoki's feet, the bastard was actually standing on of one his. He was already starting to lose feeling in his toes.

They had been trapped in the box of a room for well over forty minutes, and there was currently no end in sight to their captivity. To top it off, in the race to get inside the closet, he had somehow ended up plastered against that damn, permed, sugar-freak. If that wasn't bad enough, Sougo was somewhere behind him in the darkness. Most likely plotting to use the inky blackness as a cue to do Hijikata in once and for all. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. He honestly didn't know which was worse. The agony of having Gintoki almost intertwined with his body, or the torture of waiting for Sougo to strike.

He was so caught up in his own problems, he jerked in surprise when Sougo actually spoke.

"Whichever of you shit-for-brains has his hand on my ass, you have three seconds to move it before you lose it and all other dangling appendages from your body."

The deadly warning was followed by the threatening hiss of steel. Sougo had drawn his sword. There was a gasp. Several pairs of feet shuffled hastily as more than one person tried to move away from the psychotic Captain. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go in the small space.

"Huh, I always knew you Shinsengumi were kinda funny," Gintoki said, and it was clear by his tone he was amused.

"Shut the hell up!" Hijikata ordered, attempting to shift away from the other man. He only succeeded in rubbing their bodies together. Damn, this day freaking sucked!

It was quiet for several minutes after that. Hijikata was now desperately salivating for a smoke when rrpppptttt! His eyes widened. No. No fucking way. Surely that wasn't what he thought it was. No one would be dumb, crass or evil enough to do that her—

"OH. MY. GOD! Who the hell is the rotten bastard that just crop-dusted us?" Gintoki barked, anger and a healthy dose of disgust riding his voice. "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with—blargh, I think I'm going to hurl!"

By this time, the pungent smell was permeating the entire enclosed space. Several of the men behind him began making coughing and gagging noises. Hijikata's own eyes stung and he tried to take brief, shallow breaths.

"When we get out of here," he rasped angrily, "I will find out whoever did that so be prepared to commit seppuku."

"That's all fine and dandy, but that doesn't help us now, Oogushi-kun," Gintoki wheezed. "Damn, I knew you Shinsengumi were evil, but I didn't know you were actually the devil's spawn! Blech, it smells like fish-ass with a side of sulphur. What in the six levels of hell do they feed you people? Argh, I've talked too much and now it's gotten in my mouth. Blerghhh."

Hijikata wanted to snap back at Gintoki. He really, really did. However, he didn't want that rancid smell settling in his mouth so he kept it shut tight. He was trying to figure out how not to breathe when Gintoki suddenly buried his face in is shoulder. Hijikata was so surprised by the movement that he accidently sucked in a rather large breath.

"Gyagh," he gargled as the foul smell-taste settled on his tongue.

"What the hell are you doing, you natural-permed idiot?" he hissed, once the urge to vomit had passed, through lips that barely moved.

"I'm protecting my precious nose from that hell one of your lackeys just unleashed, dumbass," Gintoki responded, his voice muffled from being pressed up against the cloth of Hijikata's uniform. "Even though you are a stupid mayorin, you smell a hundred times better than fish-ass. Plus, with my face covered like this, it blocks that criminal odor out."

"Don't use me as a shield, idiot," Hijikata tried to pry Gintoki away, but the yorozuya only wrapped his arms around Hijikata's waist. It was like having a steel band around him. He couldn't budge the other man an inch. Well, two could play that game. Turning his head, he jammed his nose into the crook of Gintoki's neck.

"W-what are you doing, dickhead?" it was Gintoki's turn to croak.

"Hey, it was your idea. And, even though you are a sugar-obsessed, dead fish-eyed bastard, you can also be of use by blocking out that putrid stench."

Angled as he was against the juncture of Gintoki's throat, Hijikata's lips grazed over bare skin as he spoke. It was an … odd sensation. He also noticed that it wasn't just the man's breath, but there was a sweet scent emanating from Gintoki's body. It smelled faintly of strawberries and something else. Something intangible. It was probably diabetes, he decided, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts.

"Don't whisper against my neck, asshole!" Gintoki whispered fiercely.

"What's your problem?" Hijikata shifted his head so he could get closer to Gintoki's ear, that way he could keep his nose covered and open his mouth as little as possible. The movement caused his lips to slide over warm, moist flesh. It sent an odd jolt to the center of his stomach. Gintoki shivered and slapped a hand over his neck.

"I said quit it, you mayo-bastard!" there was an edge of panic in his voice now. He tried to jerk away, but his abrupt movements only succeeded in tangling their feet together. They lost their balance and Gintoki slammed back against the wall with a loud thud, only to have Hijikata fall heavily against him.

"Oompf," Gintoki grunted at the impact.

Hijikata blindly reached out, finding the wall. He placed his palms against it and pushed, attempting to lift his weight off the other man. In doing so, however, he pressed the lower half of their bodies together and—

"Why are you hard?" he hissed in the other man's ear so that the rest of their group wouldn't hear.

"Why am I hard? Why are you hard, you mayo-pervert?" Gintoki countered in a low, urgent tone.

"I-I'm not hard, dumbass," Hijikata stammered, "that's a… a mayonnaise bottle in my pocket."

"Well, I'm not hard either, idiot," Gintoki said, "that's…um…that's a bottle of strawberry milk in my kimono."

"Right."

"Right."

Hijikata resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Of course it wasn't a bottle of bloody mayonnaise in his pocket! He had gotten aroused! By that damn silver-haired yorozuya. He had been betrayed by his little soldier. Ahh, his life was over. Please, someone say it wasn't so. I will give you 300 yen, he thought wildly, if you just erase the last several minutes! He could only hope their antics had gone unnoticed. If any of the others realized what had occurred, he would never live it down. Especially if—

"Danna, Hijikata-san, would you like a copy of this video to commemorate this momentous occasion?" Sougo's voice rang out in the darkness.

With a sinking feeling slithering in the bottom of his stomach, he twisted around to find a small red light winking at him. He recognized the flashing light as belonging to one of the infrared night vision cameras the Shinsengumi used for covert operations. Shit! Super sadist number one had indeed noticed them, and had apparently taped the entire encounter. Fucking-fan-tatstic. With an inward groan, Hijikata pushed aside thoughts about what this…this…thing between him and the sugar-freak meant. Later, when no one was around to interfere or make lewd comments, he would examine what had occurred between him and Gintonki. For now, he had to find a way to get that video from Sougo. Or, he might be the one committing seppuku come morning.

End