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It was early morning when Madara found himself sipping on a cup of tea in his living room. It was a quiet, peaceful time that he enjoyed immensely. It was the only thing that kept him from his horrible raging moods, so that he was only perpetually angry for the rest of the day.
Knock! Knock!
Madara paused with his cup halfway to his mouth and looked around the living room. It was sparsely decorated with only a chair, a sofa, and a loveseat that was facing a stone fireplace. Nothing sat on his mantle, and there was an area rug covering most of the stone floor. Nothing could be knocking. There was nothing to knock. It was impossible that someone would be stupid enough to bug him this early in the morning. The sun had barely risen, and he had at least an hour and a half before he needed to even start getting ready to face Hashirama.
Knock! Knock!
His eye twitched as he slowly lowered his mug to the wooden side table that sat next to his arm chair. Someone was at the door. Who could possibly be at the door? He sighed as he slowly got to his feet, his anger mounting with every inch he moved to get up. By the time that he was fully standing, he was positively fuming. He stomped to the door and swung it open so forcefully that he was surprised that it didn’t fly off its hinges.
“Someone better be dy…” he trailed off uncertainly as he looked at a set of red eyes. He blinked slowly and when he looked again, the red eyes were still there, along with the messy white hair, war paint, and armor with the white fur around the neck line that was so characteristic of Tobirama. “Can I help you, Senju?” His aggravation was replaced by strong confusion. He and the younger Senju didn’t really associate with each other. It wasn’t out of not wanting to, though that was certainly a part of it. It was more like they couldn’t. When they were in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes, things started breaking. It could be anything from Hashirama’s beloved vase to the street sign at a cross section.
It had all started several months before. He and Tobirama had been attempting to date after they realized the mutual attraction that they shared with one another. They were both so busy, however, that they barely spent any time together. Eventually, they did nothing but fight and argue. He could still remember Tobirama’s cold voice before they parted for good. You’re the single worst decision of my entire life.
He pushed the painful thoughts out of his head. This was not what he wanted to be thinking about this early in the morning. He just wanted tea, quiet, and some alone time.
“Hashirama sent me over,” Tobirama told him. His voice was stiffly formal, like it always was when he spoke to Madara. He pulled a backpack off his back and opened the top zipper. He reached in and rifled through the contents for a moment before he procured a manila envelope. “You need to look through these before ten o’clock. Meet Hashirama at ten fifteen and make sure that you’re mentally ready to talk to a genius.”
“The hell are you talking about?” Madara asked. It was making no sense, and it really didn’t help that this was the first civil conversation that they’d had in a long time. It was making it hard for Madara to think straight.
“I’m not going to be here today,” Tobirama told him impatiently. “I’m about to leave out on a mission. You’re going to take my place at today’s negotiations. You’re meeting with the Nara clan’s head and elders to establish a treaty.”
“You’re leaving,” Madara said slowly, praying that Tobirama was about to stop and correct him in that superior tone that he normally reserved for idiots, because obviously Madara had heard him wrong. “You’re leaving,” he said again, just to make sure, “and leaving me here to babysit your brother, who is going to want to give the Nara clan anything that they want because he sucks at politics.”
“Not my decision,” Tobirama told him. “You’re the most qualified for the job, however, so just deal with it.”
He looked at Madara for a few more moments, and Madara stared back until his heart starting thudding uncomfortably. He broke eye contact and look at the road over Tobirama’s shoulder. “Good luck on your quest,” Madara told him quietly. “I’d hate to be stuck with looking after that idiot with no proper help.” Please come back. I don’t like the thought of being in this village without you here.
“I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Tobirama assured him, still sounding completely indifferent. “You’ll only have to watch after him until then.” Without another word, he hoisted the pack back on his shoulders and turned away, jumping out of sight.
Madara stood in his doorway for a few more moments before he turned around and walked back inside. As he shut the door behind him, his gut clenched painfully, and he felt as though he was going to be sick to his stomach. He was manly and a ninja. Manly ninjas didn’t let something as stupid as nausea get the best of them. He simply pushed the discomfort to the back of his mind and went back to his chair. His morning of tranquility had been totally ruined, so he might as well get this reading over with. Hopefully the Nara’s weren’t what the rumors said that they were.
The Naras were so much worse than the rumors made them out to be. They did everything at a slow, sedate pace. They were all lazy, perpetually bored, and too damn smart. It was like he was talking to an intelligent sloth with a subtle attitude that made him want to start throwing chairs. He guessed that Hashirama had behaved rather well for the entire three days that they had gone back and forth over the terms and conditions for them moving into the village.
That damn Shikado Nara was so irritating that it set his teeth on edge. He seemed to realize that Hashirama was the type to give into every demand, and tried to play on it. It had caused Madara to come close to strangling his own Hokage at least six times through the entire process. He had subtly smacked him over the back of the head quite a few times whenever Hashirama was about to give into an unreasonable term, such as the assurance that the Nara’s would not have to contribute to the governing of the village because it would be too much of a drag.
If he ever heard that damn phrase again, he would freak out and murder the offender.
The meeting had just adjourned for good a few hours ago. Madara had been invited to the Senju home to have dinner with Hashirama and his wife, Mito as a thank you for joining the Hokage in the place of his brother. Everyone knew how much Madara despised foreign affairs. He’d rather go and beat the hell out of someone to get his way than negotiate for them. He’d bid them a farewell early; his frustration at Hashirama still hadn’t completely settled, and the urge to hurt the Hokage still struck him whenever he was within striking range. He didn’t feel like invoking the wrath of Mito over something that he could avoid.
He found himself in his living room with a cup of steaming tea sitting on his wooden side table. He was seated in his armchair, reading a recently published book about jutsu, hoping that he would be able to pick up a new technique or two, and have his younger brother, Izuna, stare at him in awe again like he used to when they were younger. He was finally starting to unwind. It had been a trying three days, and today had been worse than both of the others for a reason that Madara refused to admit, even to himself.
Tobirama wasn’t back yet.
The mission was only supposed to take two days for him to complete and return. It was too soon to send out a search party, and Madara knew that something minor had probably happened to lengthen the mission, and that he would be back soon enough, unscathed and with the same dry attitude that he always had. That hadn’t stopped the nausea from rolling in his stomach every time that he thought about the white-haired man.
Realizing that he wasn’t actually focusing on the book any longer, he just sighed and put it down on the side table next to his tea. He looked at the cup hopefully, but realized that he wasn’t even thirsty. It wasn’t as though Madara cared about Tobirama or anything. They had broken up months ago, and he prided himself on getting over bad situations fairly quickly. He was just worried about Hashirama being distraught. That was definitely it. He knew that the Hokage had been deeply worried over his brother’s lateness, even if he hadn’t shown it. It was probably weighing on his mind heavily, causing him to just look out the window, waiting for him to come home, exactly like what Madara was doing.
Boom! He jumped slightly at the unexpected noise before he saw the sky light up. There had been an overcast the entire day, the bad weather was just now starting to reach its peak. He sighed and walked away from the window. The storm was probably what had kept the younger Senju out for so long.
He looked up at the clock and frowned when he realized that it was already half-past midnight. It was time for him to get to sleep. He whistled lowly as he made his way to his bedroom and changed out of his robes into a pair of black and grey pajama pants. He pulled his blankets back on the bed, knowing that it was going to be a cold night and slowly crawled in. He laid his head on his plush pillow and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come.
It never did. He laid there for what felt like hours, just waiting for unconsciousness to take him away. He finally growled to himself and opened his eyes. He looked at the clock that was sitting on his bedside and cursed when he realized that it was only one-thirty. He angrily kicked the blankets off and stood up. The sound of pounding rain always lulled him to sleep better than anything else ever did, so why the hell was he still awake?! Grumbling to himself, he stalked out to the kitchen and put the kettle back on. He’d drink some tea and then go back and try again. He pulled out another mug and waited impatiently for the water to heat up.
He finally took up pacing, wondering if that would make him wear himself out enough to sleep. He finally heard the sound of hissing and sighed in relief. He grabbed the kettle and moved to his mug. Just as he was about to pour the water into the cup, he heard a banging on his door. He placed the kettle back on the stove and walked to the back, where the noise had come from. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour. He grabbed a kunai, though he doubted that someone intending to harm him would bother knocking, before unlocking it and opening it up.
“What the hell?” Madara gasped, almost taking a step back at the sight in front of him.
Soaked white hair with a reddish tint, smudged war paint, and tattered, bloody blue armor. Instead of stepping backward, like his initial urge, he rushed out into the rain. He winced at the freezing water before he snatched Tobirama inside. “I knew it,” he muttered to himself as he ushered the younger ninja into his kitchen, “I knew that there was something wrong with you.” Hashirama was going to be inconsolable, that was why his gut was tightening at the sight of his friend’s younger brother.
Tobirama didn’t say anything as Madara told him to stay put and rushed out of the kitchen. He grabbed the fluffiest towels that he could find and ran back to his unexpected guest. He threw one of them over Tobirama’s head and quickly began to pat him down, being careful to go around the cuts and bruises that were visible through the torn fabric.
“What the hell happened?” Madara demanded as he straightened back up and began to rub Tobirama’s hair dry. He was trying his hardest to not be worried about how Tobirama hadn’t so much as moved since he’d gotten inside. When the Senju didn’t respond, he slowly removed the towel and stared at him. His red eyes were almost blank, as though he was trying to think through something that wasn’t coming to him. Madara put his hands on the other’s shoulders and shook gently. “Tobirama,” he said, trying to make his voice a mix between gentle and stern, “what happened to you?”
“I…I….” his tone was deadened. It was lacking emotion even more so than it normally did. “I’m sorry that I disturbed you at this hour,” he murmured, his eyes lowered to the ground. “I can’t go to my brother, and this was the only other place I can think of. I wasn’t thinking straight. I thank you for your hospitality, but I should probably be going.”
He tried to move away, but Madara kept a firm grip on his shoulders, not letting him. “You’re injured,” Madara told him. “You’re not going anywhere until those are treated. You’re freezing, and you’ll catch your death if you go back out in that freezing rain with your clothes in the condition that they’re in.”
Whatever happened must have really shaken the younger Senju up, which was a feat in and of itself. He wanted to know so badly that it almost hurt, but he wouldn’t pry. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Madara told him. “I won’t ask. The only thing I want is for you to stay here at least until you’re healthy enough to leave.”
Tobirama slowly lifted his head up to look at him, and Madara saw deadened red eyes as he slowly nodded.
“Let me look at the wounds, and then you can go and take a shower,” Madara told him. “I’ll lend you some clothes to wear.” He looked at the dark bags underneath Tobirama’s eyes. “You need some sleep too. It looks as though you haven’t slept at all the entire time that you’ve been gone.”
Tobirama didn’t say anything as Madara motioned for him to take a seat on one of the chairs. He stood in front of Tobirama and started to slowly unbuckle his armor until he was only in a tattered black long sleeve shirt that clung to him as it dripped water onto the floor. “Lift your arms up,” Madara instructed him quietly. Tobirama silently obeyed and Madara pulled the heavy, clinging piece of fabric off his skin as gently as he could. He threw it on the ground and it landed with a loud squelch. He quickly turned back to Tobirama and knelt down in front of him. The cuts were both thick and thin, deep and shallow. None of them seemed to be too bad, but the fact that they were there at all said a lot. He realized that the placement of them were very close to vital spots that would have taken his life so quickly he probably wouldn’t have even realized that he was dying before it happened. Tobirama had managed to barely dodge them. He’d been fighting for his life.
“I don’t think that any of these are life threatening,” Madara told him as he ran his hand just above the deepest cut that he had, right on his side, just shy of where his kidney would be sitting. He got to his feet and saw that his back was basically fine, aside from a few cuts on his shoulders. “Let me get my first aid kit. I’ll stitch up the deeper ones and disinfect the rest. I’ll bandage them when you get out of the shower.”
Tobirama nodded and Madara got back to his feet and walked into his bathroom and grabbed the large white box from underneath the sink. He took a deep breath and stopped for a few moments just to collect himself. He was so confused. Why was Tobirama here, of all places? What was going on to make him so distraught? Why can’t he go to Hashirama? He’d made it sound as though his brother wouldn’t want to see him. He knew that siblings had spats, even when they were as loving and forgiving as Hashirama, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t want to see each other after one had just come back from a mission.
He wouldn’t pry. It wasn’t any of his business, and it wasn’t any of his concern. He shouldn’t care in the least. He was just doing what any decent person was supposed to do and patching up his fellow ninja. He walked back into the kitchen and saw that Tobirama had his arms crossed over his pale chest. He was shaking and Madara felt guilty about delaying. He quickly knelt down and got to work, numbing, stitching the wounds up. It didn’t take very long and Tobirama didn’t so much as flinch when the needle pierced his skin. Madara knew that they were hardened war veterans, but that didn’t stop the feeling from being uncomfortable. Most people would show some signs of discomfort.
“Let’s get you into the shower,” Madara told him as he stood up and backed away. “You know where it is already. I’ll go and find you some clothes to wear for the night.”
Tobirama nodded and stood up. “Thank you,” he murmured, bowing slightly.
Madara stopped him before he could get too far. “Don’t thank me,” Madara told him. He meant that. He couldn’t figure out why, but the thought of Tobirama thanking him for it as though he was going out of his way to help him made Madara’s chest hurt. The Senju was in need, and he would be damned if he had no help. Madara wanted to be there when Tobirama needed help. He grounded his teeth together at the admission. It was a bit too close to other truths that he wasn’t allowing himself to think of. “Just go and get yourself warmed up. You’re welcome to anything in the bathroom.”
Tobirama quietly walked into Madara’s room with Madara behind him and disappeared behind the bathroom door as Madara went to his dresser and opened up the drawers. He grabbed a pair of spare pajama pants and one of his own black long-sleeved shirts and left them on his bed before he walked back through the door and went back into the kitchen. He sighed as grabbed Tobirama’s ruined shirt and flung it into his trashcan. It was beyond repair and Madara would simply get him another one if his decision pissed off the Senju. Part of him hoped that it did. It would be better than the emotionless depression he seemed to be giving off.
He put the teakettle back on the eye again to heat up some water. It would give him something to do while Tobirama was in the shower anyway. Hopefully drinking something hot might help warm him up also. His skin had been like ice when he’d touched it, and Madara just prayed that he wouldn’t become sick with how cold he was.
Tobirama was gone for a while. So long, in fact, that he had gone to sit in his chair again. He hadn’t realized that he began to nod off until footsteps reached his ears. His eyes flew open and he quickly turned around to see Tobirama walking slowly toward him. His back was rigid, and his shoulders were stiff. It looked as though he was doing this just to make sure that his body didn’t just slump over and fall to the floor. Madara knew that he’d promised not to pry, but this was getting to be worrying.
“How are you feeling?” Madara asked him as he pushed himself to his feet. He was fairly sure that the tea that he’d made for Tobirama had already gone cold and just decided to give up on warm beverages for the night. For some reason, he was never able to consume any with Tobirama involved.
“I’m fine,” Tobirama said quietly.
“You’re not okay,” Madara told him. “I was asking physically. Do you feel faint? Are your wounds aching more than they should? Have you gotten any warmer?”
Tobirama looked at him, his head cocked to the side quietly. He swallowed and looked away again before he murmured, “I’m fine,” again.
Madara narrowed his eyes in irritation. Even when Tobirama was distraught, he knew how to be a complete pain in the ass. Grinding his teeth together, he growled to himself and grabbed the first aid kit. After instructing him to take his shirt back off, he quickly cleaned and bandaged his wounds. Tobirama’s skin was still chilled, but it felt a great deal warmer than it had before. “You’re still cold,” Madara told him once he was finished. “You really need to get under some blankets and warm yourself back up.”
“I should be going,” Tobirama insisted. “Thank you for your help—”
“I already told you not to thank me,” Madara told him sharply as Tobirama went to walk around him. He reached out and grabbed the younger by the wrist. He didn’t snatch in fear of aggravating one of the more serious gashes in his abdomen, but he held on and refused to let go, even when Tobirama started tugging. “You’re not going anywhere like this. If you want, I’ll get in contact with your brother, and you can go with him if staying in my home brings you so much distress, but you’re not leaving by yourself. I’ll incapacitate you if I have to.”
Tobirama was silent, as though wondering if Madara was serious, which he was. Tobirama was a strong and fierce ninja, but he was no match for Madara, and it would be even less of an issue in his already weakened state. “Quit being so concerned,” Tobirama said after a few moments with is back still to Madara. His tone was angry, which relieved Madara more than it should have. Negative emotion or not, it was still an emotion, and he would gladly take it! “It’s nothing worth anyone being concerned over!”
“You’re injured,” Madara said slowly, trying to get the white haired moronic genius to understand. “You’re injured, and you’re upset about something, very upset. Why is that not a cause for concern? If you can give me a good reason why, then I’ll let you go and I won’t even tell Hashirama.”
“I’ve done nothing to warrant your concern,” Tobirama said. It was clear that he was trying to sound indifferent, but it wasn’t working. His tone was no longer angry, there was a sadness in it. He sounded anguished. “You shouldn’t be worried at all…I don’t deserve it.”
“Turn around and look at me,” Madara said quietly.
“Just let me go, Madara,” Tobirama said. He sounded exhausted and totally miserable, as if his strict defenses had completely crumpled. “Let me leave.”
“I’m serious, Tobirama,” Madara told him. “Turn around.”
The Senju didn’t move even when Madara grabbed his shoulder with his other hand. He pushed on it, and Tobirama slowly turned around. His eyes were bloodshot, not like he’d been crying, but like he’d been trying to hold back tears. Madara’s heart nearly stopped at that expression, it definitely cracked, threatening to totally break. He opened his mouth to say something but Tobirama took advantage of his shock and wrenched his wrist out of Madara’s grip and turned away from him. He stalked toward the door.
Madara remained frozen, just watching him go until something clicked. Tobirama had come to his house. This place had been the only other place that he thought of in his state. He’d come to Madara for comfort when his mind had been addled. Subconsciously, Tobirama wanted Madara to make him feel better, and Madara would be damned if he didn’t do just that when Tobirama obviously needed him so much.
He rushed behind him and caught him before he was halfway through the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and buried his face into Tobirama’s back, squeezing as tightly as he dared to with all of the injuries. Tobirama froze, tensing up. Madara though that he was going to try and wrench away from him again, but he just seemed to deflate, slumping forward as he started to shake slightly.
Madara let him go, only to turn him around and embrace him again, so that Tobirama’s face was buried into his neck. “I didn’t want to do it,” Tobirama said, his voice shaking. “I tried so hard not to.”
“I believe it,” Madara assured him, not at all sure what he was talking about. There was no way that he was going to ask for a clarification at that point in time, however. He would just let Tobirama get whatever was on his chest off and when he was feeling better, he would ask about it if nothing made sense by the end of everything.
“He was so strong,” Tobirama whispered as he arms wrapped around Madara with nearly bone-crushing strength. “I tried to lose him. I killed the rest of his teammates to deter him. Nothing worked. He kept coming after me and…and I had no choice. I shouldn’t have done it, though. He was so young.” He ran his hands through Tobirama’s drying hair, hoping to soothe him.
Madara had a feeling he knew where this was going. A team intercepted him on his way back from the Sand Village and there had been a child. From the sound of it, the kid had been a powerful and mean one if he had given Tobirama such a hard time. Tobirama had been given no choice other than killing him.
“You did the right thing,” Madara told him quietly.
“It was just a child!” Tobirama protested.
“Do you think that the child would have stopped there?” Madara questioned. He hated the thought of killing children, and hated that Tobirama had been forced to do it, but they were ninja, and horrible things happened all of the time. “That child would have continued to kill other shinobi after he was finished with you. I’m glad that you’re alive and okay. I’m glad that you came back safe. Thank you for coming back safe. You did the right thing. Hashirama will agree with me.”
Tobirama flinched at the mention of his brother, and Madara knew why. Both men had a soft spot for children, though Hashirama was more vocal about his than Tobirama was. “He’s never going to forgive me for this,” Tobirama mumbled. “I... he shouldn’t forgive me. I’ve just spat in the face of all of his dreams. I completely ignored the entire reason why this village was founded. It was for children!”
“Listen to me,” Madara told him quietly. “You need to calm down. You’re going to end up hyperventilating if you’re not careful. You haven’t spit on anything. It was the fault of the people that sent the child into battle. We founded this village to stop them from even going out. Not everyone has adapted to that yet, and it’ll be a while before they do. There’s nothing that we can do about it. He was trying to kill you, Tobirama, and came close quite a few times. You really didn’t have any choice. You tried to save him, but you can’t work miracles, and no one expects you to die just because it’s a child that’s trying to kill you.”
“I know,” Tobirama said. “It just….” He trailed off.
“It just what?” Madara asked.
“Hurts,” he mumbled brokenly.
“I know,” Madara told him. “It’s going to for a while. Just remember that you came back safe to the people that love and care about you. I’m so glad that you’re okay.”
Tobirama moved away from Madara and Madara let him, not wanting to push anything. His expression was so unguarded that Madara had to force himself to not pull him back into another hug. He looked at Madara, studying his face, as though he was looking for something. Madara stared back, forcing himself not to squirm under the intensity of the gaze. His red eyes were still dead, but there was a flicker of emotion in them. One that Madara didn’t recognize until it was too late.
Tobirama wrapped a hand around the back of Madara’s neck and pulled him closer so that their mouths crashed together. Madara fell against his chest as ungracefully as one could manage without falling over. Tobirama’s other arm wrapped around Madara’s waist and pulled him even closer. Madara knew that it had to be uncomfortable with the wounds, but he was so shocked that he couldn’t move away. Hell, he wasn’t moving at all.
“Madara,” Tobirama breathed when he finally pulled away from him. Madara blinked stupidly, still trying to catch up with what was going on. His body definitely responded to the breathy voice that Tobirama used to say his name. He could practically feel his pupils dilate as heat swarmed his body.
“Madara,” he whispered again as he leaned even closer. “I need you.” Before Madara could respond, he found himself being pushed into a counter with Tobirama crowding him in, trapping him with his arms on either side of him, braced against the counter.
When Tobirama leaned down and kissed him for a second time, Madara’s mind simply blanked as he closed his eyes and reciprocated, moving his lips against Tobirama’s matching his needy and almost rough pace as his arms wrapped around Tobirama’s waist and neck, pulling him closer. He felt Tobirama nibble on his lower lip gently, the sensation of teeth lightly scraping against his flesh made him shiver with pleasure, and he let out a sigh that Tobirama took advantage of. Madara felt Tobirama’s tongue slip into his mouth and rub against his own for a moment before it was exploring, as though trying to remember a taste that was nearly forgotten.
Madara was nearly past the point of no return when he felt a cold hand on the overheated skin of his chest, scraping against the flesh while he felt another hand tugging on the drawstring of his pajama pants. They loosened, and he felt fingers starting to push past the spandex at the top and just as they started wandering down a bit father Madara ripped his mouth away from Tobirama’s. He was gasping for air as he grabbed the wandering hand and stopped it.
“No,” he managed to get out while he was breathing heavily. “You’re not in your right mind right now.”
“I’m perfectly sane,” Tobirama murmured as he leaned down and began peppering light kisses down Madara’s neck until he got to the area where his neck met his shoulder. Madara felt teeth bite into his flesh a few moments later. He hissed at the waves of pleasure that rolled through him. He wanted to just forget it and let Tobirama have his wicked way with him, but he knew that he couldn’t.
“You’re distraught,” Madara managed to say in a steady enough voice as Tobirama started rocking against him very enticingly. The younger Senju was trying his damnedest to get him to shut up. It wasn’t going to work. “I don’t want to tell you no.” He bit back a groan as Tobirama seemed to take a liking to a spot just below his ear and began sucking on it. “I have to tell you no. I care too much about you and respect you too much to take advantage of a situation like this.”
“You wouldn’t me taking advantage of me,” Tobirama informed him quietly, breathing warm air in his ear, causing him to shiver yet again. “I think that I’ll be the one taking advantage of you.”
Could it really be called taking advantage of when you want it so damn much? Madara asked himself.
At that thought, Madara steeled himself as he put his hands on Tobirama’s chest and pushed him away. He grabbed his too loose pants, pulled them back up around his waist and tied the strings again as he looked at Tobirama with a stern glare. “You’re tired, you’re upset, and you’re looking for something to distract you. Just because I’m convenient now doesn’t mean that it won’t be the biggest regret that you’ll have later. I don’t want you to make a mistake.”
“You were never a mistake,” Tobirama told him after a few moments. “I know what I said when we broke up, but you were never a mistake. I always regretted saying that. Coming this close to death made me realize that I don’t want to die with any regrets.”
“We can talk about all of this tomorrow,” Madara told him. “Let’s just leave everything to—”
“I still love you,” Tobirama said abruptly.
Tobirama had managed to strike him speechless yet again that night. He desperately tried to comprehend what had just been said to him and come up with a coherent response. He was having no luck at all.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Tobirama said quietly. When Madara removed his hands from Tobirama’s chest, the younger made no more moves on him, obviously understanding that there would be none of that. “Thank you for helping me. I’ll let myself—”
“I just made out with you like a teenager in the middle of my own kitchen, and basically allowed you to manhandle me,” Madara said, gritting his teeth together in annoyance. “Do I strike you as the type to let that happen often? I’m not, so obviously I wanted to do it for a reason. You don’t have to leave, actually, you can’t leave. If you’re still bent on leaving, I’m going to get ahold of your brother. Why don’t you go into the bedroom and get some rest?”
“I’m not going to be able to sleep,” Tobirama said quietly. His voice was slowly turning cold again, as though everything was starting to hit him again. Madara sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Well,” he suggested. “Why don’t we both just go in and try to relax. We can lay there and talk if that’ll make you feel better. I’d just like it if you tried to relax if only for a little while.”
Tobirama nodded slowly and allowed himself to be led back into the bedroom. Madara crawled into the bed and moved to the far side so that Tobirama could follow him in. He pulled the blankets over them and laid down. Madara couldn’t help but smile as he saw what Tobirama was doing. He was laying down so that there was about a foot of space between them, fidgeting slightly.
“Come here,” Madara told him. Tobirama turned and looked at him uncertainly and Madara just sighed as he moved toward Tobirama and wrapped an arm around the other man, pulling him so that his head was tucked into Madara’s chest and he was pressed firmly against him. Madara could feel the other man starting to relax.
“Tobirama,” Madara said quietly.
“Yeah?” he asked, trying to subtly burrow himself even closer to Madara.
Madara reached over and placed two fingers underneath Tobirama’s chin. “I still love you too,” he informed him, “but if you kick me in your sleep like you normally do, nothing is going to stop me from shoving you out of the bed like I used to.”
Tobirama’s lips twitched slightly as a low snort sounded. Their lips touched again in a tender kiss where their lips barely brushed against each other’s again and again, just wanting to feel. Madara pulled back and laid his head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. It was quiet for a few minutes, only the sound of their breathing broke through the still air, before Madara heard Tobirama’s breathing even out. He managed another smile as he closed his eyes as well and nodded off to the sound of Tobirama’s steady breath.
Madara woke up feeling more rested than he had in a while. He still felt a weight pressing down on him and when he looked down he saw that Tobirama was sprawled across him. He smiled as he looked down. He slowly turned to look at the clock and saw that it was nearly eleven o’clock. He’d promised Hashirama that he’d meet him at noon for some tea and help draft up a contract for the Naras to sign.
He needed to get up, but that was a problem. He looked back down at Tobirama, wondering if he could manage to move the younger man without waking him. The speculation was ended almost as immediately as it had begun.
“Don’t even think about it, Uchiha,” Tobirama muttered without opening his eyes. The white-haired man burrowed even closer to Madara, wrapping his arms even more tightly around him. “I’m warm and comfortable. You’re not allowed to get up yet.”
Madara chuckled as he brought his hand up and slowly started to run his fingers through Tobirama’s hair. He guessed that Hashirama could wait for a little while longer. It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t have a good excuse for his tardiness. Tobirama was the perfect excuse for everything.