Chapter Text
“Word on the street is that ya got yer own house in the countryside, Hajime-chan. Any reason why ya haven’t invited me over yet?”
Okita’s words are meant to tease, to fluster Saito. He doesn’t actually expect him to say yes; their relationship is new and glorious, but also fragile and untested—both their boundaries remain up, not having been lowered yet.
It takes a lot for men like Okita and Saito to reveal their secrets. So that’s why when Saito responds with an immediate invitation, it’s instead Okita who’s the flustered one.
“Say that again?” Okita asks, not believing the words that ring in his ears.
“Sure,” Saito shrugs, his sword leaving behind its steadfast embrace against Okita’s. Slashing it through the air once to clear it of any debris, Saito returns it to its sheathe. “Come over tomorrow, I was planning on spending the weekend there anyway. Are you free?”
Barely processing Saito’s words, Okita manages to lamely nod his head.
“Good,” Saito smirks as he begins walking away from Okita, still frozen mid-fight with his mind running a kilometer a minute. “Ask the ferryman near Teradaya, he’ll take you there. See you tomorrow,” he proclaims, a mischievous lilt to his voice, as he gives Okita a lazy wave and strolls out of the Shinsengumi barracks, not a care in the world.
Okita takes a few seconds to process everything, shifting his leaden limbs into a more comfortable position, no longer frozen in place.
Damn his boyfriend.
Okita’s the one supposed to be doing the teasing, not the other way around.
His life’s been turned upside down since the day Saito first walked into the Shinsengumi barracks; never before has he felt all these feelings: the quickening of his pulse whenever he sees Saito, the absence in his heart when they’re apart, an intense fondness emanating from deep within him.
Okita doesn’t know if he’d call it love, not yet. But given enough time, he’ll get there, he’s sure.
Hell, maybe tomorrow will be the day—it’s a date, after all, and Okita’s always had a thing for country boys.
Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.
What do you wear when visiting your boyfriend’s home? Okita has no idea.
He spent an embarrassing amount of time this morning sifting through his closet just to settle on his usual weekend attire: a freshly washed plain brown yukata, not a bloodstain in sight. Not formal, but not too casual either—not that it matters, not really. Saito’s not the type to care, if his indifference to the usual rusty odor and appearance of his Shinsengumi haori is any indication.
It's strange, being this unsure of himself.
He’s Okita Souji, captain of the Shinsengumi’s First Division and one of Japan’s strongest samurai. Confidence normally flows through his veins. Yet whenever his boyfriend is involved, his willpower turns straight to putty.
Okita’s the sun, blinding and ostentatious, while Saito’s the moon, silent and protective. Together, they’re complete. It’s only natural that there’s a gravitational attraction between the couple.
Many thoughts plague Okita’s mind—almost none of them welcome—as he slowly drifts in the direction of Saito’s cottage, spurred onwards by steady paddles of his boatmen through the river’s crystalline waters.
For some time he’s struck by anxieties, so unlike his unusual self—maybe he should have worn something else, should he have brought a housewarming gift, will his boyfriend resent him for intruding on his personal space—but as the scenery before his eye slowly changes, these worries give way to nervous, but excited thoughts of Saito’s home.
Does Saito garden? Is his cottage a quaint little thing, or are there multiple rooms, big enough for a family? Is his home’s interior as sparsely decorated as his room at Teradaya, or is it filled with his interests and things that he loves? Has Saito made special preparations for him? The questions are dumb; he’ll find out the answers soon anyway, but regardless his imagination runs wild with the possibilities.
Okita’s always been a city boy, fond of the hustle and bustle of people across the streets, the delicious smells wafting from food stalls, the background rumble of hundreds of people going about their lives. It’s not often that he visits the countryside; today is a new experience for him.
Though perhaps that might just change.
As the boat pushes forward, the scenery before Okita gradually changes, packed streets becoming more desolate, until the streets disappear altogether, replaced by dirt paths surrounded by luscious greenery. Out here, the sky feels bluer, and the air fresher. Okita can’t help but wonder why he’s never made the journey before.
As Okita admires the view, his boat pushes closer and closer to shore before it finally docks, his ferryman throwing a weighted stone down to prevent it from drifting. “We’re here,” he says, gesturing at the land before him.
A line of cottages, each spaced generously apart from its neighbors, greet Okita. “Saito-san’s is the furthest to the left,” his boatman says, gesturing in its direction. Okita merely grunts his thanks and presses a generous tip—a whole ryo—into his hand as he steps off the boat.
The journey to Saito’s house is a long walk, but also a comfortable one. The sun has begun to shine, peeking out from behind fluffy clouds as it climbs in the sky, and the air is humming with the faint chirping of birds and the buzzing of bugs. It’s surprisingly nice.
But as much as he enjoys the scenery, Okita came here with one goal in mind: to see his boyfriend. So, he pushes forward, unwilling to stop and relax, at least, that is until he’s reunited with Saito. Then he’ll do all the relaxing he wants.
Eventually, his feet lead him to just outside of Saito’s cottage.
It’s a cute little thing, fencing surrounding a wood and stone house. From his position just outside the entrance, Okita can see a garden, half full with crops, as well as a cute little doghouse, and a chicken coop. It’s not fancy, but it’s incredibly welcoming. Okita feels at home, and he hasn’t even stepped inside yet.
But as nice as it is to simply admire Saito’s yard, Okita has a greater need. Walking forward, he steps onto Saito’s land.
He’s there for all of one second before he’s tackled.
Okita rushes to grab his sword from his new position on the ground—he never leaves home without it, even for an occasion like this—but his hands leave its sheathe alone as he comes to a realization. His attacker is quite furry, isn’t it?
Blinking a couple times, Okita assesses the situation before him for what it truly is, his vision no longer clouded by the idea of a threat. Instead of a human, he’s currently surrounded by no less than three very excited Shiba Inus, their tales wagging.
They’re not the only ones surrounding him however, as a group of cats have made their way towards him, curling around the heat of his body. One of them joins the dogs in climbing on top of him, settling itself comfortably on his chest.
“Who are all of you?” Okita croons to himself, pleasantly surprised. He’s never been one to have pets himself, though he’s quite fond of them, especially cats, magnificent little hunters that they are. They remind him of himself, in a way.
They respond with a chorus of excited barks and meows, incomprehensible but appreciated all the same.
While Okita enjoys the sudden attention, he almost forgets why he’s there in the first place. Distracted, he doesn’t notice a door sliding open, nor Saito stepping outside.
“What’s gotten into all of you?” Saito good-naturedly asks. “You’re normally still sleeping the morning away—oh.” Saito’s gaze reaches Okita from his position buried beneath his pets. “Nii-san, is that you?”
“Never took ya for an animal person, Hajime-chan,” Okita answers indirectly, giving the orange and white cat that’s purring against his chest some friendly scritches.
Saito smiles. “I didn’t think I was one either at first, but they needed help, and I couldn’t resist. Can’t imagine life without them now.”
Okita snorts. That’s his boyfriend, alright. Always helping those in need.
“They have names? Ya seem like the sort to just name ‘em dog n’ cat or somethin’ plain like that.”
Saito fondly shakes his head. “Glad to hear you think so little of me,” he teases, though there’s no bite to his words. “Your little friend is Lucky; she’s a handful.”
“Lucky?” Okita raises an eyebrow. “She actually lucky?”
“It’s complicated. Rumors said if you paid her mon she’d bless you with what you wanted. A while back, before we were dating, I gave her money to find me love, you know.”
“An’ she led ya straight to me, I’m sure.”
Saito shakes his head. “Try again.”
“A drawin’ of me? Somethin’ of mine?” It must be related to him somehow, otherwise he surely wouldn’t bring it up. God forbid this friendly little feline try to set up Saito with another man or woman. “I give up, what’d she give ya?”
“Porn, actually.” Okita lets out the loudest snort of his life, his chest heaving with laughter. Lucky pushes herself against him, enjoying the rumbling of his body.
“Was it good? Did it get ya all hot and bothered?” Okita furiously waggles an eyebrow at Saito.
“Don’t know, I never actually read it. I still have it though…entertainment for tonight, perhaps?”
Okita sports a fierce grin. Now Saito’s speaking his type of love language.
“Good girl,” Okita drawls, showering the cat with affection. “What about yer other pets, they got fun stories n’ names too? Might be hard to beat your last one though.”
Saito chuckles. “Nah, you already heard the best of them. Most of these little guys were either hungry or injured so I took them home. Snowball though—wait, where’s Snowball?”
“She ain’t over here?” Okita gestures to the pile of animals currently huddled around him, begging for his attention.
“No, she’s a white cat…oh no.” Okita follows Saito’s gaze to where a once white cat rolls in mud at the edge of the garden, now absolutely filthy. “Snowball!” Saito chides.
Perking up at her name, Snowball leisurely trots over to them. If cats could make human expressions Okita swears she’d be smirking as she rubs her muddy body into Saito’s yukata. Saito only sighs with fondness. “Some things don’t change.”
“They don’t?”
“She kept falling into the river and dirtying herself; I took her home so I wouldn’t have to drag her to the bathhouse anymore. Little did I know I’d just be taking her to my tub instead.”
Okita laughs. “Cleanin’ up a random dirty kitty…sounds like something only ya would do, Hajime-chan. Well, I think it’s cute. A grown man takin’ care of a buncha strays.”
“Just like a renowned killer in a puppy pile,” Saito quips, peering down at Okita’s current furry predicament.
“Touché.”
Comfortable silence falls between them as Okita gives each of his new friends a parting pet, then wills himself onto his feet. “Love yer little buddies, but I figure it’s time we finally do somethin’. Ya got any plans?”
“Yes and no,” Saito starts. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up so early so I still have fieldwork to do before we can relax—I can set you up with a pot of tea and you can watch me work if you’d like? It should only take me a few hours.”
Watching Saito labor in the sun is a tempting proposition, his muscles bulging with exertion and sweat dripping from his tanned skin, but it’s not fair to rest while his partner works. He’s got hands too; he might as well use them. Besides, they can get to enjoying the day faster this way.
“Nah, sittin’ back’s not my style. I’ll help ya, if yer up for it,” Okita answers.
“You sure? It’s backbreaking work, you know. I wouldn’t want to impose on a guest.”
“Guest?” Okita snorts. “I practically forced my way here. ‘Sides a little dirt and sweat never hurt anybody.”
“That’s true,” Saito acknowledges. “Well, if you’re sure. You might get your clothes dirty though, if you aren’t careful.”
Okita thinks to his haori at home, last washed over a month ago. “Hajime-chan, you’ve seen what I wear daily. Dirt, in comparison, is nothin’.”
“You’re not wrong,” Saito agrees. For a few seconds, his face twists, as if trying to find another reason to object to Okita’s involvement, before it straightens out. Saito reaches a hand out towards Okita, which he immediately grabs, Saito’s calloused and sweaty fingers intertwined with Okita’s more slender ones. “Welcome to the team, farmer Okita.”
Okita catches on quickly. “Glad to be here, farmer Hajime.”
Never before have his words been truer.