Chapter Text
1.
“This is bad.”
The tall cupboard is arguably not as spacey on the inside as it looks. Mutsunokami tries to shift his weight from one foot to another, careful to not bump his head to the shelf above. In his arms, Izuminokami is seconds away from being the definition of pissed, and even if Mutsunokami can’t see it, he knows Izuminokami well enough by now to tell that the reds of embarrassment are tinting his ears bright red.
There’s a little gap between the edges of the door, too tiny to let in any brightness, but big enough to allow a sight of what is happening in the kitchen. It’s a strain on his neck, definitely, but one cannot choose a position when being shuffled into unwanted places.
There’s not much to see, other than the top of some heads; white locks that softly curl upwards on the top, giving the illusion of fox-like ears – if Kogitsunemaru is around, then it’s almost always guaranteed that Mikazuki Munechika follows him like his shadow. There’s a third person, though. Dirty blonde hair, the tone of clueless carelessness of his humming-
Higekiri has walked into his demise. Again.
Mutsunokami muffles his giggle into his partner’s -by now badly messed up- braid, “you said that already.”
Izuminokami attempts to move around enough to jab his elbow into Mutsunokami’s side. Something they both know is a pointless endeavor, but the sentiment is all the same. It doesn’t stop the taller uchigatana to feel around the little, clever fingers tracing his partner’s abs through the thin layer of the night robe.
Mutsunokami hisses, quiet enough that the sound doesn’t travel outside their hiding place, but even if it did so, no one would notice it. The small kitchen is slowly filled with the sounds of lips smacking against each other, sighs of lust and pleasure dictating the pattern.
Even if Mikazuki Munechika is a good for nothing on his better days – as Aruji says way too often nowadays -, Mutsunokami has to admit, he has his game on quite well.
Higekiri’s needy noises seem to indicate so.
Shokudaikiri is going to be so pissed once he hears about this.
It’s the blunt feeling of sharp pain at the juncture of his neck and both of his sides that drags Mutsunokami out of his pondering, the smug smile of Izuminokami audible against his skin. “It seemed worth repeating.”
Mutsunokami fights off a shiver, his fingers finding their way into the loose parts of his partner’s hair, tugging on the soft locks mercilessly.
“I’m not gonna come to get ice cream with you ever again.”
2.
Izuminokami had a feeling the day is going to be an odd one.
The feeling gets justified as soon as he drags himself to the common room, body still sluggish from the expedition that stretched out to last through the past several days. Nearly falling through the array the night before, dirty and tired, he only managed to stumble his way across the estate into the area habituated by the fellow uchigatana. Finding Mutsunokami’s room by muscle memory more than actual memory. Peeling off the outer layers of his clothes, and several layers of underrobes, he could only fall face first into the soft futon, crawling under the covers with the last of his willpower.
A bath could wait till morning.
Waking up the next morning and somewhat refreshed after taking the much-needed soaking in water, Izuminokami joins his teammates around the breakfast table, discussing the events of the previous days.
There’s a bandage laying across Hotarumaru’s nose, the tiny ootachi being the only one to suffer damages – stubbornly going against an enemy yari all alone to win some time for the team. Izuminokami doesn’t forget to ruffle the soft white hair of the little sword, earning a bright smile in response.
Sun, go and retire, Hotarumaru is here to replace you.
“Your hands are warm. Reminds me of Kuniyuki,” Izuminokami remembers from days before, from when he rushed back to help hold back the enemies. Carrying back the exhausted ootachi was easy, the boy being feather-light despite his intense powers.
No wonder the pair of stupid old tachi were so fond him as well.
Izuminokami shakes his head, focusing his thoughts once again, offering inputs to the unit’s captain about the report Aruji has already asked for. Not too long after that, Otegine thanks them, taking off to deliver the details of their rather successful investigation, and Izuminokami decides to take his sweet time to go, finding his partner sitting in a sunspot on the veranda, a model ship in his hands and the pieces of it scattered around.
Sitting down near to him, the two of them pick up a conversation as if there wasn’t anything happening the days prior.
The kind of fragile peace Izuminokami wishes to never lose.
“You know,” he begins after a spot of silence, the rustle of leaves following his words. “We should take a trip.”
Mutsunokami only hums at that, but Izuminokami knows he has the full attention of the other uchigatana.
“Yeah. Not too far, just to the town down the mountain. Let’s bring around Hotarumaru as well.”
“Ya really came to like the lil guy didn’t ya,” Mutsunokami concludes, gathering the tools from around himself. Izuminokami just stares at him, eyes glinting in surprise. “What now?”
“I… don’t know,” Izuminokami admits. “I didn’t think we’d get this far.”
Mutsunokami just laughs at him, messing up Izuminokami’s hair as he walks beside him.
“Well, I quite like him myself, so why not?”
3.
This time, the trip to Ikedaya turns out to be a dumpster fire.
A bigger one, than usual.
Trying to avoid the debris falling in his way, Izuminokami jumps to the side, enemy in tow. His unit has broken away a long ago, losing sight of each other as soon as the first explosions shook the city. There’s an occasional clashing of swords mixed between the cries of the fleeing residents of the town, helping Izuminokami’s nerves calm – they’re near, they’re fine. It’s gonna be alright.
The fight lasts long; dust and fire making it all the more harder to navigate and defend, but the waves of enemies clear out at last. Izuminokami finds Mutsunokami in one of the alleyways, smoke and the smell of gunpowder dancing in the air. His partner grins at him as he walks over, the two of them heading to the wider streets to find the remaining members of their unit.
Finding Shinano Toushirou is easy.
Spotting Mikazuki Munechika is even easier.
The old tachi is on a rooftop, facing the last enemy of the night. His steps are quick and graceful, lacking any kind of unnecessary movements; dancing under the bright moonlight like a treasure he truly is, Mikazuki delivers his finishing blow, the blade of his sword piercing the opposing enemy uchigatana in the throat.
Right as the base of the building gives out and the roof collapses, Mikazuki going down with it.
The two uchigatana and the tantou look at each other, ready to run into the flaming debris to get the leader of their unit out of it. Yet, before any of them could move, they hear the oh-so-familiar laughter of the old tachi, followed by the deep, rumbling one of the last member of their team.
Carried in the arms of Kogitsunemaru, Mikazuki appears again, legs dangling to the side and hands wrapped around the other tachi’s neck. Kogitsunemaru appears to say something to Mikazuki, to which Mikazuki replies with his usual, merry “good job”, tugging on Kogitsunemaru’s hair.
Nobody says a word upon the sight.
Izuminokami notices Mutsunokami glancing at them, and if as he was on cue, he sneers, “shut up.”
He swears he can see the question marks dancing around the other uchigatana’s head.
“But I didn’ say an’thin’!”
“Don’t care. Shut up.”
4.
Shinsengumi is nothing but a bunch of lightweights.
And Izuminokami Kanesada is easily the worst of them.
The clearing in front of the main building of the citadel is full of little blankets scattered around on the grass, sword warriors grouping around with each other. The noises of happy chattering travelling far away on the wings of the midsummer breeze, as they celebrate the arrival of the new member of the citadel, Matsui Gou.
…that, and the -slightly more than frequent- yelling that comes from near the base of the old sakura tree, where the Shinsengumi members sit, drinking each other under the table in a somewhat competitive manner.
Mutsunokami has not a single idea where the alcohol came from, but he has a strong suspicion it’s from a certain heavily blushing ootachi currently sprawled out in the grass, head resting on Aruji’s lap.
He reminds himself to thank Jiroutachi later on, when he’s aware of his surroundings once again. But, until that, he thinks, he’ll indulge himself a little, eyes never leaving Izuminokami’s form, admiring the blush that colors Izuminokami high on his cheeks.
It’s an adorable sight, but as rare as it is, Mutsunokami is sure it’s time to free Yamatonokami from the other, clingy uchigatana.
Peeling the mostly limp body off the Okita boy is a bigger challenge than it seems at first, but it only takes moments before Mutsunokami and Izuminokami are stumbling around the corridors, hand in hand, shoulders bumping against each other.
It doesn’t take too long for Izuminokami to stop in his tracks, making Mutsunokami to turn around a little. Before he can say anything, though, he feels the back of his head knocking against the wooden walls, and a pair of hot lips smacking on the bottom of his cheeks.
The giggle leaves his lips before his brain could catch up, making Izuminokami grunt in a disapproving way. Brushing his fingers in Izuminokami’s hair, he guides his partner a little, lips touching fleetingly for a second.
“You’re really drunk right now.”
Izuminokami grunts again, pouting at Mutsunokami with all the might that a drunk one can muster.
“No, I’m not. You’re just blurry.”
Mutsunokami nearly collapses from laughing upon that.