Tobirama has always run cool but it's never been a problem.
It still isn't.
Tobirama wakes up slowly, warm and comfortable under the kakebuton.
Madara's concession to his presence, it's heavy enough to keep even him warm, mostly anyway.
And, where it isn't, there are other solutions.
He wriggles his toes, held securely in between Madara's calves, and smiles into the black hair that tickles his nose.
Yes, he definitely picked the right man to marry.
On a completely different note, I set up a server on Discord for my writing and you can go poke me at Phlebas Writes.
Since I actually write directly onto the server, all the warnings for my stories apply to any content that may be found on there and I swear. Just FYI.
I'm also on Tumblr!
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