Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You might be one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

Madara nearly broke the chopsticks that were in his hand at that comment. He knew that his eye was twitching, and his teeth were grinding together annoyingly in an effort not to lash out at the jackass that was sitting across from him. This good-for-nothing, ass-kissing suck up was starting to lay things on just a bit too thick, and Madara knew that Tobirama, the victim of this horrible sweet-talking, had to see through it all.

If that was the case, however, then why was he simply giving him a polite smile, something that Madara never sees, and replying with a quiet “Thank you,” instead of calling him out on it?

Touma Nakamura was a real piece of work with his perfectly cut light hair and his award-winning smile. Madara hated him. He’d hated him from the first moment he’d laid eyes on the man and saw that Nakamura had yet to take his eyes off Tobirama’s ass. It wasn’t that Madara cared about someone looking at Tobirama’s ass…it wasn’t as though he had a claim on it or anything, but for the sake of his friend, he’d protect his younger brother’s virtue and not let anyone look at Tobirama’s incredible ass.

Madara’s eye twitched again at that thought. He did not think that there was anything incredible about Tobirama’s ass. He didn’t know why he even thought that adjective up. It wasn’t like he ever caught himself staring at the plush roundness of it when Tobirama bent over to grab something, or if he’d just gotten his pants out of the wash and they were a bit snug. No, that never happened at all.

Why am I even thinking about his ass? Madara asked himself angrily as he pushed the entire subject out of his mind and went back to the present problem at hand.

Nakamura.

He was a diplomate coming to see them, representing the Tsuchikage. Madara had never been a fan of the people from the area that the Stone Village was and wouldn’t mind starting a war with them, but he had a feeling that Hashirama would be less than pleased if it happened because Madara knocked out the diplomat because he was flirting…even if it was a really bad and annoying attempt to flirt with someone who was too intelligent to give them the time of day.

One of the smartest people he’d ever met his ass, Tobirama was the smartest person that the man ever had and ever would meet. Not that Touma seemed to care about that at all. He seemed more preoccupied with Tobirama’s ass. Stop, Madara coached himself, we’ve already been through this. You’re not supposed to think about Tobirama’s ass!

“You have something on your mind, Madara?” Tobirama questioned. It was very strange hearing Tobirama call him by his first name; it definitely didn’t happen all that often. When they were on diplomatic missions, however, they didn’t have much of a choice; they had to act as though they were close enough and friendly enough with one another to be on a first-name basis. It showed a friendly and cohesive side of the country, even if the two people that were representing it weren’t all that friendly with one another.

“Not at all,” Madara replied. He stabbed at a piece of fish on his plate with his chopsticks a bit too harshly when Touma put a hand on Tobirama’s shoulder to get his attention again over something as stupid as his favorite restaurants around town. When Tobirama mentioned Yakiniku Q, the barbeque restaurant that a lot of Leaf shinobi frequented when they returned from missions, Touma moved right in for the kill. “Well then, maybe before I leave to go back to the Stone Village, we could—”

He was cut off by the sound of glass shattering. Madara had unconsciously pressed down harder on the glass of the plate once his chopsticks had gone through the fish, and had broken the dish. Tobirama turned away from Touma and looked at Madara almost questioningly. Feeling like a child that had just gotten caught doing something that they weren’t supposed to be doing—though he didn’t know why, it really had been an accident! —he dropped the chopstick and lowered his eyes to the table.

“My apologies, Mr. Nakamura,” Tobirama said. Madara heard the sound of a chair scraping across wood. He dared to let his eye slowly rise up and saw that Tobirama had risen to his feet. “Madara, I need to speak to you for a moment in privet.”

Madara sighed as he rose to his feet as well. He had to fight back the urge to glare at Touma, who looked politely confused, as he turned around and walked away with Tobirama. That bastard knew what this was going to be about. Tobirama walked out of the front door and turned sharply right, walking into the alleyway next to the narrow building. Madara sighed and followed him.

He saw the younger Senju leaning against the wall. His face was mostly hidden by shadows, so it was hard to gage his expression, but Madara didn’t have to see it to know that he was irritated. His body language conveyed that with no problem.

“What is your problem?” Tobirama asked him as soon as he had walked into the alleyway. His tone was calm and had no emotion to it, but Madara was used to that. The prick had always been emotionless, even when they were children. “We’re already on delicate terms with Iwagakure, and this entire meeting was to win their favor over. The last thing Hashirama wants right now is a war when this village is so new. We need to make a good impression with this man. He’s the head diplomate of the Stone Village and he’s a close friend of the Tsuchikage himself.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Madara asked. “I’m aware of who this man is. Do not speak to me as if I’m an invalid!”

“It’d be more understandable if you were,” Tobirama informed him. “I’m not sure you understand this situation. You’ve been glaring at him the entire time that you’ve been inside of the restaurant, and you haven’t said anything to the man. If you can’t handle this, then you need to leave right now, and I’ll go back in and smoothen things over.”

Madara looked at Tobirama blankly, uncertain if this fool was serious or not. Did he honestly expect him to let his best friend’s younger brother eat alone with a pervert that seemed hellbent on seducing him? “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here alone with him,” Madara told him.

“Why not?” Tobirama asked. “It isn’t like you’re helping with diplomacy at all.”

“Don’t play stupid,” Madara snapped at him. “It’s not very becoming of you.”

“I’m not playing stupid,” Tobirama told him. Irritation was starting to seep into his voice. He only sounded like that when he didn’t know something that other people did. That meant.…

“You seriously don’t know?” Madara demanded.

“Know what?” Tobirama finally snapped at him. “What am I supposed to know?”

“He’s been flirting with you the entire time we’ve been here,” Madara said. “He was looking at your ass before he even looked at your face!”

Tobirama looked at him blankly, not understanding what Madara was trying so desperately to tell him. Madara felt his eye twitch again at this as he growled. “Are you serious, Senju? Do you seriously not get what I’m trying to tell you?”

“I understand,” Tobirama told him calmly. “I’m just trying to understand why you care.”

Madara opened his mouth to reply almost immediately, but no sound came out. He cared because Tobirama was Hashirama’s brother, and he knew that his best friend would want his brother away from prying eyes. Why wasn’t he able to get that out? How come the reason, which sounded flimsy to begin with in his head, sounded positively pathetic when he went to say it aloud?

“It’s unprofessional,” Madara said stiffly after a too-long silence.

“Really?” Tobirama asked, his voice was so sarcastic that it took everything Madara had not to say something to wipe that superior look of emotionlessness off his face. “I had no idea that was unprofessional, but breaking a plate during a tantrum wasn’t.”

“I was not having a tantrum,” Madara snapped. “It was an accident.”

“People don’t just casually stab a wooden chopstick through a thick glass plate,” Tobirama informed him. “I honestly didn’t think that it was possible.”

Madara glared at him, not saying anything else. He didn’t know a way to reply that wouldn’t make him look like a total moron. He could say that he was angry, but that would open him up to more questions that he hadn’t even really asked himself.

“You looked angry,” Tobirama said, “like Nakamura had insulted you personally by looking at my ass.”

Madara suddenly knew where Tobirama was going with this. Don’t you dare, he thought viciously, refusing to even think the word, don’t you say it, Senju!

“You were acting jealous,” Tobirama went on, as if he were oblivious to Madara’s mental screaming.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Madara instructed him. “Why would I be jealous?”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Tobirama replied, his tone returning to its usual calm. “I don’t know why you would be jealous in the first place. The last time I checked, you weren’t very fond of me, Uchiha, and we certainly weren’t dating.”

“The last time that I checked it was the same,” Madara shot back. When was the last time that you checked? He asked himself before giving himself a mental slap. This was the last place he needed to be having this internal debate. The best time was probably at home after a healthy amount of sake.

Tobirama was silent for a few moments, though it felt like hours with the discomfort that Madara felt as those red eyes were examining him. “I’m going to take it as today you were feeling a bit unstable. We’re going to try this again tomorrow, and you’re going to have a bit more self-control, right?”

“Don’t talk down to me!” Madara exploded angrily.

“Then quit acting like a five-year-old that can’t share a toy that isn’t even his,” Tobirama shot back sharply. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, Uchiha, but you’re going to need to settle it quickly for the sake of this village and my brother’s peace of mind.”

Madara was moving before his mind had even caught up with his body, and had Tobirama caged in on the brick wall before he realized what he was doing. Their faces were a few inches apart. “Get this through your head, you stupid Senju. I hate you; I’m not jealous of that lecherous fool inside. If you want to go and whore yourself around under the excuse that it’s for your brother’s happiness, I’m certainly not going to stop you.”

Tobirama’s eyes deadened. Madara thought that they were normally emotionless, but this was completely different. He realized too late that he’d monumentally screwed up. “You have half a second to remove yourself from my personal space before you lose the closest body parts to me,” he said calmly.

Madara immediately complied and once he was on his own side of the alleyway, Tobirama spoke again in the same cold tone. “We’re both going to walk inside and apologize to Nakamura and tell him that you’re feeling unwell and that I need to take you to Hashirama. We’re then going to my brother and telling him that we cannot work together.”

Madara opened his mouth to reply, but Tobirama was already moving before he could get a single sound out of his mouth. It wasn’t like he was going to apologize. He didn’t think he knew how to say that he was sorry even if he really was.

Madara followed Tobirama back inside, feeling a lot like a puppy that had just been scolded by its master. This was going to take a lot of smoothing over for them to get back to their civil relationship, if that was even possible.

They walked back to the meeting room that they had reserved for just the three of them, and Tobirama nodded politely at Nakamura. “We deeply apologize. Madara seems to be unwell right now, and the two of us need to go and see my brother about it.” He held his hand out to Nakamura, who grabbed it and shook it, holding on to the appendage for a few heartbeats too long for it to be casual. Madara inhaled deeply, mentally coaching himself through this and assuring himself that breaking Nakamura’s arm would be a surefire way to get himself onto Tobirama’s bad side even worse than he was now.

“It was good meeting you, Mr. Senju,” he turned and look at Madara with one of the fakest smiles that he’d ever seen and said, “You too, Mr. Uchiha.”

Madara managed to make a weak imitation of a smile, that hopefully didn’t display how much he wanted to rip Nakamura’s bloody entrails out of his stomach. He was certain that it conveyed that exact message if the way that the fake smile on Nakamura’s face faltered was any indication.

 “I have a small problem,” Nakamura admitted with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never been to Konoha before and I’m afraid that I have no idea how to make it back to my hotel.”

“I’ll accompany you there,” Tobirama said to him. “Madara, you go ahead and see the Hokage.”

“I’m not—”

Tobirama turned and looked at him. Madara cut himself off very quickly, personally surprised that he held back the whimper that was threatening to make its way out of his throat. Tobirama actually looked murderous for a moment, and Madara was as surprised as he was scared. The fact that he’d managed to pull that emotion out of Tobirama was amazing, but he really had royally screwed up.

He wanted to tell Tobirama no, and just go with it, but that look was getting scarier and scarier by the moment, and Madara was trying to figure out why he found it so attractive at the same time. He wanted to fight and argue with Tobirama to get his way; the other’s anger be damned. This creep was trying to take him to his hotel room, and Madara didn’t like the sound of it.

“Fine,” Madara said stiffly. He knew that he would actually have to go to the Hokage tower because of Tobirama’s sensory abilities. If he didn’t, then the other would immediately know. That meant that sneaking behind and following them to make sure that no funny business happened was totally out of the question. He was already on Tobirama’s shit list to begin with, so he didn’t really want to push his luck and remain there until he died.

He would go to the Hokage Tower and wait with Hashirama for fifteen more minutes. If Tobirama wasn’t back by then, he would go and look for him. He turned around and walked out of the room, knowing that if he looked back at Nakamura, he would be tempted to flip the other person off.

It took him nearly no time at all to leap to the Hokage tower. He waved politely at the secretary before he walked into his friend’s room without knocking. Hashirama was dutifully sitting behind his desk, looking down at a small stack of papers in front of him, which Madara figured were from one of the other three large stacks that surrounded him.

Hashirama looked up as soon as he walked inside with a relieved smile. “Madara!” he cried, sounding as though he had saved him from some great peril. Hashirama must have been at this for a few hours from the sound of it. “I didn’t expect to see you for at least a couple more hours.” He looked over Madara’s shoulder with a frown. “Where’s Tobirama?”

Madara clenched his teeth together at the mention of that name as he walked over and sat down on one of the armchairs on the opposite side of Hashirama’s desk. His friend must had noticed a change in Madara’s expression because he asked about it.

“Did you two have another argument again?” Hashirama asked.

“Why do you always jump to that conclusion?” Madara questioned. It was a good inquiry; for the past few months, ever since Tobirama and Madara made a pact to be civil toward one other despite their differing views, every time Madara had felt grumpy, Hashirama asked if it was because he was having an argument with Tobirama. He had been trying to figure out why Hashirama assumed that Tobirama would be able to influence Madara’s moods that much.

“Well,” Hashirama said after a few moments. “It’s still all new to the both of you. You’re trying to get a feel for each other, and you’re bound to slip up every now and again and clash. It’s normal is all. Honestly, Mito and I used to clash all of the time when we first started dating.”

“Excuse me?” Madara questioned, praying that he’d misheard his friend.

“I know it’s hard to believe, right?” Hashirama said as he nodded sagely. “Every couple has spats and—”

“What do you mean every couple?!” Madara shouted, standing up. He felt uncomfortable just being still at what was supposed to be his best friend’s contemplations.

“I mean, if you two think that you’re going to be that exception with how different you are,” Hashirama said, “then you’re crazy. Dating takes a lot of work and—”

“WE ARE NOT A COUPLE!” Madara shouted. He throat stung at the volume, and he was certain that the people all the way on the first floor had heard him, but he didn’t care. He needed to get his point across.

Hashirama, who had his mouth open, probably to continue giving relationship advice, stopped. “What?” he asked weakly.

“You thought that your brother and I were dating?” Madara asked back just as weakly. “I…we still hate each other, Hashirama. Why would we be dating?”

“You do not hate each other,” Hashirama declared. “I figured that you were dating by the sweet looks you give each other when you think that no one is looking.”

“We do not give each other sweet looks!” Madara denied.

“But you do!” Hashirama argued. “Your eyes get all soft and you start smiling without thinking about it. It’s really adorable. There’s no need to lie to me about your relationship. I promise that I won’t tell anyone if you’re trying to keep it quiet for now.”

“Will you quit saying things like that?” Madara pleaded.

He didn’t like Tobirama. That fit that he’d had earlier was nothing, and it was just out of loyalty to his idiotic friend, who he was considering strangling. He didn’t care if that man was trying to sweet talk Tobirama into a date just so that he could get into his pants.

“Madara,” Hashirama said quietly. “Why is your eye twitching like that?”

He looked up at the clock in the corner of Hashirama’s study. He’d glanced at it a time or ten since he’d been there. The time had seemed to fly by, but ten minutes had finally passed. Tobirama still had five more minutes? He was starting to think that Hashirama’s clock was broken.

“So, did you two have an argument?” Hashirama questioned again.

“Yes,” Madara finally bit out, turning away from the clock to look at his long-haired companion. “The diplomat from Stone is an asshole,” Madara finally said. “I caught him staring at your brother’s ass. He was flirting with Tobirama, and then your brother had the nerve to get angry with me for being angry about Nakamura overstepping his boundaries and tried to call me jealous! I might have gotten really mad by that point and said some things that I didn’t mean, which he’s really pissed off about right now.”

Hashirama was silent for a moment, as though he was desperately trying to keep up with what Madara was saying. His brown eyes lit up after a moment, a huge smile lighting up the room. “My younger brother is correct! You are jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!” Madara snapped. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you’re attracted to my brother, and you don’t like the fact that another person is making a move on him because you want sweet little Tobirama all to yourself,” Hashirama replied immediately.

“First off,” Madara said, “There is nothing sweet about your brother, nor is there anything little about him either. I don’t know what time you’re remembering him from, but the Tobirama that is around today is a callous asshole.”

Hashirama whistled lowly and raised a questioning eyebrow at Madara, “You guys must have had a pretty bad fight this time around.”

“It…I….” Madara trailed off helplessly. He didn’t want to tell Hashirama about their argument. He felt like he was talking to his lover’s brother about a spat, and that wasn’t what it was at all. The way that Hashirama was looking at him didn’t make anything any better. He was staring at him as if that was the case.

He glanced back up at the clock and cursed, only a minute had gone by. Why was time crawling!?

“Why do you keep looking up at the clock?” Hashirama asked him. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions?” Madara snapped evasively.

“You’re acting stranger than normal,” Hashirama replied.

Madara probably should have been offended by the wording of his friend’s reply, but chose to ignore it. “Tobirama went to show Nakamura to his hotel room,” Madara finally sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go with him.”

Hashirama just smiled at Madara understandingly. He hated that look so much. “I can see why you’re upset. You don’t know if Tobirama’s being seduced by this diplomat.”

“Shouldn’t you be upset,” Madara demanded, pointing at Hashirama accusingly. Tobirama was his younger brother! He should be fuming. He should be gone by now, breaking down the door to Nakamura’s hotel room and rescuing his brother from Nakamura’s lecherous clutches.

“Why would I be?” Hashirama questioned confusedly. “I’m certainly not in love with Tobirama. It doesn’t affect me who’s flirting with him. It isn’t like Nakamura could take advantage of him. Tobirama is too strong for that.”

“How do you know?” Madara demanded. “The fool is too blind to notice that he’s being flirted with.”

“If you’re so worried about him,” Hashirama said, leaning forward with his hands clasped together on the desk, “why are you still here? You should be off to go and get him back.”

Madara froze. He felt like there was a trap in there somewhere. It felt as though Hashirama was seeing if he would go to prove some strange point. Madara wasn’t sure what is was, but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to live it down for a long time. “What’s the catch to this?” Madara asked Hashirama suspiciously.

Hashirama looked up at Madara with wide, innocent eyes. “What are you talking about? Catch to what?”

That’s right. Hashirama was a pure soul that never did something underhanded, no matter what it was or who it involved. Hashirama would never have any catches to anything he did.

“Fine,” Madara said after a few moments of contemplation. “I guess that I’ll just go and check on him.”

Hashirama positively beamed at him as Madara left. There was some sort of ulterior motive in Hashirama’s actions, wasn’t there?

Nakamura was an incredibly dull man. He smiled at Tobirama and kept up small talk as they walked through the crowded streets.

“Do you have any hobbies, Mr. Senju?” Nakamura questioned.

“I research,” Tobirama told him. He turned and saw that the man was staring at him, though something in his expression said that he wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. “I mostly try and invent new jutsu.” Tobirama wondered what could have the man so distracted.

“That sounds neat,” Nakamura remarked as he slowly turned away from Tobirama and looked back at the crowd. “How long have you known that Uchiha?”

Tobirama had to fight back the urge to tilt his head to the side slightly in curiosity. The way that Nakamura said Madara’s surname was very disdainful. It was as though the man was trying his hardest to be cordial about it, but failed miserably. Tobirama quickly shrugged it off, however, figuring that Nakamura had gotten bad vibes off the way that Madara had been acting earlier.

“For a very long time,” Tobirama told him. “I was very young, nearly ten, I believe, when we first met.” Tobirama left off the fact that it wasn’t on good terms. He figured that everyone that hadn’t been living under a rock for their entire lives knew about the generations of war that had gone on between the Senju and the Uchiha. “He was a childhood friend of my older brother.”

“I had heard a rumor about that,” Nakamura said. “I didn’t believe that it was actually true. He doesn’t strike me as the type to have many friends.”

“Madara isn’t a bad person,” Tobirama found himself defending the Uchiha, though he didn’t know why. The last full sentence that Madara had said to him was still running around in his head, making his blood boil. Nakamura wasn’t flirting with him in the least. The oaf was just delusional, and sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He just didn’t like that Tobirama had told him that he was wrong and threw a temper tantrum. “He can be a little rough on the edges, but he’s actually a very caring man when it comes to his friends and family.”

Instead of looking reassured by Tobirama’s answer like Tobirama expected, Nakamura looked displeased. His hazel eyes darkened slightly, and his entire posture slumped. “If you are upset with the way that Madara was acting today, you have my apologies,” Tobirama told him. “He’s feeling unwell, and I’m sure that things will start looking up tomorrow.”

As if realizing that his demeanor changed, he straightened back up again and continued smiling. “Not at all,” Nakamura said, “I completely understand having off days. I just hope that he wasn’t being rude to you, is all.”

Tobirama knew that the man was just being polite, but he felt his chest tighten in his need to defend Madara from Nakamura. Their personal interactions weren’t any of the man’s business, but Tobirama couldn’t deny that he felt some warmth from the concern in Nakamura’s tone. Maybe he really had left an impression on him. His chest warmed with pride. Maybe diplomacy was his calling. He would have to talk to Hashirama about it at a later date.

“Not at all,” Tobirama told him. “I figured that it would be unprofessional to ask about his wellbeing in front of you, so we just stepped outside for a few moments for me to make sure that everything was alright.”

Nakamura nodded slowly. “So…are you two a couple?”

Tobirama opened his mouth to respond when the meaning behind the question clicked in his brain. It took all of his self-control to fight back the blush that was trying to blossom on his cheeks. He and Madara didn’t act like a couple at all. They were arguing with each other most of the time, but it had come to the point where most of their verbal sparring lacked any heat in an attempt to make things more civil between the two of them.

Sure, Tobirama chastised him when Madara was being a bumbling fool on occasions, and sometimes they really did get into some bad arguments, like the one from earlier that day, and they both walked around moping for a few days, feeling horrible, before they reconciled. He would have to ask Hashirama about that later.

This man was probably interpreting it from what Tobirama had said a few moments ago, not any behaviors.

“No, we’re just friends,” Tobirama assured him. “Out of curiosity, what makes you think that we’d be a couple?”

“No reason,” the man said quickly. It was obvious that he was lying, but Tobirama didn’t want to call him out on it. He still needed to get on Nakamura’s good side and stay there for the remainder of his stay. Doing damage control for Madara was going to be a long process.

They turned another corner and came to a stop at the inn. Tobirama bowed to him and said, “This is your destination. I hope that you have a good day, and I shall see you tomorrow.”

“Would you mind coming up with me for a few minutes?” Nakamura asked quickly. “There’s something that I really want to show you.”

Tobirama thought for a second. He was curious as to what Nakamura could possibly want to show him, but he had to meet his brother and discuss Madara with him as well. He supposed just walking up for a few moments wouldn’t hurt anything.

“I think that—”

“He’s late for his meeting with the Hokage,” Madara said. Tobirama gritted his teeth together in an effort to not jump. The man had managed to sneak up on him while he was distracted by his deliberation. Tobirama spun around and glared at Madara who looked surprisingly friendly.

He smiled at Nakamura and this time it wasn’t actually bloodthirsty. Nakamura smiled weakly back and said, “It looks as though you’re feeling better.”

“Ah, yes,” Madara said. “The Hokage looked at me and fixed me up.” He turned away from Nakamura and looked at Tobirama, who’d schooled his features back into an emotionless mask. “You’re the one that wanted this meeting, Tobirama. Your brother is going to feel pretty upset if you brush it off.”

“I guess I’ll have to see it some other time, Mr. Nakamura,” Tobirama said apologetically. “You can always bring it tomorrow and show me then.”

“Ah, yes,” Nakamura said. “I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

He nodded to both of the men politely before he turned around and walked into the inn without another word. Tobirama waited for Nakamura to be out of sight before he slowly turned around to face Madara. The Uchiha’s face was a stoic mask, but Tobirama could tell from the look in his eyes that he was waiting for the verbal lashing that was on the tip of Tobirama’s tongue. For some reason, that look alone managed to make the words die before they ever even made a sound.

“Why are you here, Uchiha?” Tobirama asked instead.

Madara blinked and slowly shook his head. “What’s wrong, Senju? I figured that you’d be yelling at me right now.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Tobirama snapped at him before he turned away from Madara and just said, “Let’s get this meeting over with.”

Madara sat down defeatedly in one of the plush chairs in Hashirama’s office again while Tobirama stood rigidly. Hashirama laced his fingers together as he looked up at his brother and then over at Madara. “What’s this about?” Hashirama finally asked.

“We cannot work together, brother,” Tobirama said. “I’ve already tried to tell you that we couldn’t, but you didn’t want to believe me. I’m requesting a new partner. I’m sure that Uchiha could be of better use in a place where he can’t scare diplomats by breaking glassware and giving silent death threats.”

Madara held back a groan as he just stared down at the ground, waiting for Tobirama to finish his rant.

“Why are you smiling, brother?” Tobirama asked. Madara couldn’t see Tobirama’s face, but he was guessing that an irritated frown had just popped up on his face if his tone was of any indication. It was probably the one that caused small wrinkles to appear in between his eyebrows. Madara felt himself frowning at that thought. How the hell did he know what look matched a certain tone that the albino man used?

“No reason,” Hashirama said as he placed his hands down on the wooden desk and pushed himself to his feet. “You guys know that I love you both, correct?”

Madara nodded and saw Tobirama doing the same.

“Then you know that everything that I do, I do because it will benefit you guys in the long run, correct?” Hashirama continued.

They both nodded, but Madara felt himself hesitate. What was Hashirama about to do?

“This is both a request as your brother and friend and an order as your Hokage,” Hashirama said. “I’m not switching you guys out. You’ll remain partners for the remainder of Touma Nakamura’s stay.”

“That isn’t a good idea,” Madara stated. He finally spoke up. He knew that he and Tobirama both needed a break from one another. Even if he hated the thought of Nakamura being around Tobirama without him or Hashirama there to keep the perv in line, he knew that he couldn’t be around him. They were just going to keep arguing worse and worse until something even meaner than what Madara said to him earlier was going to come out.

“It’s a great idea,” Hashirama said as he grabbed all of the papers on his desk and stored them inside of a scroll, which he stuffed into a bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m about to head into one of the conference rooms on the bottom floor to do some paperwork. You two aren’t permitted out of this office until you’ve resolved everything.”

Madara scowled at Hashirama as he calmly walked to the door. “Don’t think that you can get away with lying either. I have ANBU all around, and they’ll come and tell me if you leave without kissing and making up.”

Madara felt heat come to his cheeks at the word choice, and lowered his eyes to the ground again. Hashirama smiled at them, giving a large wave before he shut the door behind him. Madara heard a clicking noise, and knew that Hashirama had somehow managed to lock the door from the outside, as if that would stop them from leaving if they really wanted to.

“I hope you fall down the stairs!” Madara called after him angrily as he got to his feet and slammed his fist against the door. “You meddlesome fool!”

“You don’t really have any room to be talking about that,” Tobirama informed him coolly.

Madara felt his frayed temper get even closer to snapping as he spun around and look at the expressionless Senju that was in the room with him. Tobirama needed to be thankful at that moment that he bore no resemblance to Hashirama. If he had at all, Madara was nearly certain that he would have punched him right in the jaw for what his brother was doing.

“You’ll have to excuse me for looking out for your wellbeing,” Madara snarled at him. “Instead of judging me for caring about you, why don’t you just be grateful that someone is looking out for you best interests?”

“That’s the thing,” Tobirama said coldly as he walked over to one of the chairs and sat down in it. “You don’t care about me, remember, Madara?”

“That’s seriously what you’re going with?” Madara demanded. “I just told you that I did care about you! You’re going to sit there and deny the fact that we’ve made serious progression into being friends?”

“You were acting like a jealous child,” Tobirama reminded him.

“I was not being jealous,” Madara snapped back, feeling his stomach burn in irritation. He was going to give himself an ulcer at this point, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You were,” Tobirama reiterated, “and friends don’t act jealous when other friends are being hit on, which I was not!”

“He was hitting on you!” Madara snarled. He felt his hands start twitching with the urge to grab Tobirama by the shoulders and shake him until he saw sense. Obviously, the man had a few screws loose upstairs if he didn’t see how lecherous Nakamura was being. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you! The fact that he was trying to lure you up to his room didn’t set off any signals in that large brain of yours? Aren’t you supposed to be a genius?”

“You still haven’t told me why you would care about that in the first place,” Tobirama reminded him. He stood up and slowly walked toward Madara, “The man was handsome enough, he was polite, and kind. Sure, he might have liked the way that my ass looks, but he was talking to me in a friendly manner. He never once brought up any mention of a sexual encounter. I thought friends were supposed to cheer each other on when something like that happened.”

“You’re too good for him,” Madara said, grasping at straws by the end of Tobirama’s rant, because the Senju was actually right. Nakamura did seem like a total catch, but Madara still didn’t like him. Why didn’t he like him? Was it just because he was attracted to Tobirama? Surely there had to have been others that had come around that had been interested in the other man that Madara had liked and accepted. Why couldn’t he think of any?

“How would I be too good for him?” Tobirama asked.

Madara felt a burning sensation in his chest at the fact that Tobirama was asking these questions. Was Tobirama returning these interests? He swallowed nervously, feeling his heart start beating sporadically. It was almost as though it was getting ready for a hard hit.

“Are you interested in him?” Madara asked Tobirama quietly.

“If I am?” Tobirama questioned. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” The look in Tobirama’s eyes was cold and calculating, as if he was purposely waiting for something to happen. Madara hated it when that look was directed at him. He wasn’t a lab rat, and Tobirama needed to stop treating him like he was one.

Madara looked away from Tobirama, not wanting to feel like an experiment while he spoke. “You’re too good for him. If he acts as though he is scared of me, then how can you even pretend to be proud while you are with him? You need to find someone who is strong enough to at least stand up to me.”

When he looked back over at Tobirama, there was a faint smile on his face. Madara’s heart nearly stopped at the sight. He didn’t see the look much, so whenever it did come up, funny things happened inside of his stomach. It was this irritating fluttering sensation, and the first few times that it happened, Madara had been certain that he was dying. Now, it was just some annoying outcome that only seemed to happen in the presence of the younger Senju.

“As thoughtful as that is, Uchiha,” Tobirama said, “your clan is one of the most powerful clans in the world, and you’re the most powerful person in your clan. The only person that can stand up to you and still be guaranteed to stay alive is my older brother, who happens to be the head of one of the most powerful clans in the world.”

“You stand up to me all the time,” Madara informed him. “You’re still alive.”

“I’m starting to think that there’s a reason for that,” Tobirama informed him. His tone was softer than normal. Madara wouldn’t say that the man sounded nervous, per say, but he did sound almost uncertain of himself. Tobirama pushed himself back to his feet and started to slowly walk back and forth across the room. Madara moved, allowing him his space. He was trying to move in a fashion that looked more casual than just pacing across the room, but Madara knew better.

“What are you talking about?” Madara asked him.

“What if I were to go and ask Touma out on a date?” Tobirama asked Madara abruptly. He stopped right in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at Madara this narrowed eyes. “Do you think that he would accept?”

Madara’s throat closed up, refusing to let any air out as his chest started hurting. He brought his hand up and pressed it down over the pained area, only then realizing that it was where his heart was. His mind was adamantly screaming at him to do something, anything to stop Tobirama from going through with it. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand the why of it all. The only thing that mattered was that Tobirama couldn’t go and do something like this.

Madara’s throat slowly unclenched as an annoying question in his brain started making itself known. “Would you be happy with someone like him?” Madara asked weakly.

“I’m not sure,” Tobirama replied. “Do you think that I would be?”

NO!

“I’m not sure,” Madara bit out. “If you think that you would be, then you should definitely try it. Being happy is really all that matters.”

Tobirama nodded slowly, as though he had finally found his answer. “I guess that this is all settled, then, right?” he asked Madara, who numbly nodded, feeling nothing short of miserable. He needed to go and train. Maybe he’d go and take out a perfectly innocent tree that had never harmed him in any way whatsoever. That sounded like the best plan.

Tobirama walked to the door, but Madara made no move to follow him. The ache in his chest seemed to be getting worse and worse, and he didn’t even know why. He had no emotional investment with Tobirama, so why did it feel as though his heart was breaking?

“Are you sure that there isn’t anything that you need to say to me, Uchiha?” Tobirama asked as he opened the door up.

Madara just numbly shook his head as he walked over and sat down on the plush chair opposite from Hashirama’s desk. He would just sit there and wait for his best friend to get here. Talking to him always made things make sense, even if the man was annoying at the best of times.

He was sitting there, stewing in his upset for a quarter of an hour before Hashirama walked in, positively beaming. “I spoke to Tobirama before I came back up,” he told him. “He said that you guys are on good terms right now. You’ve gotten everything straightened out, right?”

“Yeah,” Madara said quietly.

Hashirama placed his bag down on his desk and sighed. “What happened? I thought that you two would have sorted everything out while you were in here.”

“We did,” Madara said curtly. He knew that he wanted to speak to Hashirama, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what was wrong, or even how to put how he was feeling into words. “I think that he’s going to go after Nakamura. I’m pretty sure that’s he’s interested in that lecherous creep.”

Hashirama sighed as he sat down in his chair. “Tell me, Madara,” Hashirama told him. “How do you feel right now?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Madara snapped.

“Fine,” Hashirama allowed. “You mind if I tell you a story. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this anyway.”

Madara glared at him. Wasn’t it obvious that he didn’t want to speak right now? “Fine,” he finally snapped. “What story?”

“When I went to the land of Whirlpools and met Mito for the first time,” Hashirama said, “she was already speaking to another man. They had been courting each other for a few weeks, and she really liked him.”

Madara raised an eyebrow at this. Hashirama really hadn’t ever mentioned this.

“I fell in love with her at first sight. She was beautiful, strong, and had a warmth about her that I’ve never known. I knew that I wanted her to be mine, and the thought that she wanted someone else hurt…a lot.”

Madara wanted to know why Hashirama wanted to get this off his chest now.

“My chest hurt. It was a heaviness and a dull, constant pain that flared when I thought about it and nearly burned me. I felt nauseated constantly, and angry,” Hashirama described. “When she chose me, I felt all of that pain just disappear, and happiness just swelled. I still feel so happy when I think back to when she agreed to let me court her.”

Madara felt uncomfortable. Those symptoms sounded a bit too familiar, and he didn’t like it. “What are you trying to say?” he asked weakly.

“You’re feeling that right now, aren’t you?” Hashirama questioned.

“Yes,” Madara admitted. “You’re trying to tell me that I love Tobirama?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” Hashirama told him. “You’re in love with him and you just let him walk out of that door.”

Madara’s mouth opened to respond, but only air came out in a tired exhale. What was he supposed to do now? It was too late for him to approach Tobirama; he had probably gone over and spoken to Nakamura, and Madara had his pride to keep and his honor. He couldn’t just go and tell Tobirama not to see Nakamura because he wanted Tobirama for himself, could he?

“Why don’t you go and train a little and clear your head?” Hashirama asked him with a kind smile. “We wouldn’t want you to do something stupid, would we?”

Too late for that, Madara thought wryly. He nodded anyway. He had just realized his feelings, and he did need to think on it. This was just like a battle, really. He needed to think over the information in his arsenal before he made a plan of action.

“Thank you for your insight,” Madara told Hashirama honestly before he got to his feet. His friend waved at him happily as he walked out of the door. Sometimes Madara hated that his friend always had a solution to things, as though they were completely obvious. He guessed that Hashirama had always been able to clearly see the larger picture of everything, and foresight was his gift.

He quickly made his way to the training grounds. He didn’t want to accidentally run into anyone that could distract him from his thoughts, like Izuna, or the object of his inner turmoil himself, Tobirama. He’d had a couple of narrow escapes from potential distractions but managed to make it to the training grounds without an incident and chose to go deeper into the forest to one of the farthest clearings as to not be accidentally stumbled upon.

He immediately walked up to a tree with a target engraved in the wood and grabbed a few kunai from his belt. It never hurt to brush up on basic skills.

So, I love him, he thought as he let the first volley fly, all of them hitting the center of the target. He swallowed as the L word slipped into his mind. Madara had never been in love before, so the entire emotion was totally new to him. He had only heard it described a few times. He had thought that it was a warm, happy feeling that constantly enveloped you and had never imagined that it would cause such anxiety.

As far as I can tell, Tobirama has never shown any interest in me, Madara thought as he let another kunai fly. His chest seized up on that thought, however, and the kunai embedded itself in one of the outer circles. What if his affection was unrequited? What did he do with everything that he felt.

Would I still feel the same if Tobirama doesn’t reciprocate these feelings? Madara asked himself. He thought about it, pushing past the cringing discomfort in his chest for his answer.

Yes. He finally decided. He couldn’t see these feelings changing from something like that. It wasn’t like Tobirama could really control how he felt. He could understand if Tobirama didn’t return his sentiment. It would hurt a lot, but he could understand.

What do I do? Madara questioned himself as he slowly walked to the tree and pulled his kunai free from the bark. It’s not as though I want to just shout it from the rooftops. Sure, I love him, but I doubt that Tobirama would appreciate that sentiment anymore than I do.

He walked back to his original position and pulled a Kunai past his head. I need to let him know. It’s unfair for both of us if he isn’t aware. I need to talk to him, but it would put a lot of pressure on him if he’s trying to court Nakamura, and I don’t want to stress him out. He paused after his first throw and realized that he honestly didn’t care if it put strain on him if he was with Nakamura at the time. He didn’t want to upset the Senju, but he didn’t want him with Nakamura at all.

He groaned and tightened his grip on the remaining kunai in his palm. A sharp pain pulsed in his palm, and when he looked down, he saw scarlet liquid running through his fingers and dripping to the grass.

“Dammit,” he swore, dropping the blades and wincing as the one that had cut him slid out of the wound. The blood was flowing freely, and he needed to get it patched up before he bled too much.

“What did you do?”

Madara jumped and turned around. Tobirama was standing against one of the trees on the other side of the clearing with his arms crossed over his chest.

Embarrassed, Madara whipped around and placed his injured hand behind his back. “What are you talking about, Senju?” His voice probably should have come out a lot stronger than it did, but there really was no helping how pathetic it sounded to his ears. His new discovery had sent his heart into his throat, beating over time, and the fluttering feeling in his gut was stronger and more distracting than ever.

“I can see the blood falling,” Tobirama informed him as he pushed himself off the tree and walked toward Madara. Feeling as though he was being attacked, he took a quick step back and then took another one before he stopped himself. What the hell was he even doing? He was a warrior, and he would stand his ground like one!

Then again, he’d never been so scared going into battle as he was looking at Tobirama approach him.

“It’s not a big deal,” Madara managed to say calmly.

“Really?” Tobirama inquired. “That’s an awful lot of blood to not be that big of a deal.” He stopped right in front of Madara and held his arm out expectantly. Madara refused to move, unsure of what physical contact of any form would drive him to do. “Let me look at it. The last thing I want is to have to drag you all the way to Hashirama to let him fix you up.”

“You don’t know any medical jutsu,” Madara said, grasping for any weak excuse that he could find.

“Yes, I do,” Tobirama told him calmly. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not as proficient as my brother, but I do know a few. I’d like to take care of it before it gets beyond my ability to heal, however.”

Madara silently shook his head. He knew that he looked like a complete fool, but his mind was screaming at him to find the quickest route out of there and away from him.

“Quit being stupid,” Tobirama commanded. His voice was still calm and collected. Madara didn’t even detect a hint of irritation or impatience yet. Something was definitely up, and he didn’t like it.

“Did you hit your head?” Madara asked faintly.

“No,” Tobirama replied. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re acting strange,” Madara responded.

“I’m not the fool that’s standing in the middle of a clearing nearly a mile away from the nearest human, bleeding out and refusing help, if anyone hit their head, it was you,” Tobirama informed him. “Nice subject change, but it’s not going to work. Let me see your hand before you get yourself hurt.”

What could letting him look at it hurt? Madara asked himself. His head was starting to feel a bit light, and his vision swam. This was not going to end well if he didn’t get some form of help. He silently removed his arm from behind his back and presented it to Tobirama.

Tobirama grasped his wrist in his hand, and Madara’s heart leapt even higher in his throat. He turned Madara’s arm over so that his palm was facing up, showing off a large gash that tore through the middle of his palm. It was still bleeding profusely and Tobirama just shook his head as he brought his free hand up to cover it. His hand started glowing a bright green before it touched Madara’s. Madara didn’t know if the tingling sensation that was crawling up his wrist was from Tobirama touching him, the chakra, or from blood loss. All were viable options at this point.

He hissed at the sharp discomfort of skin knitting itself back together at a much faster pace than was strictly natural. He wanted to snatch his hand away, but knew that it would be over soon. It wasn’t like this was the first time that he was being healed by medical ninjutsu, and he doubted that it would be the last.

After a few moments that stretched out into forever in Madara’s mind, Tobirama was finished and released Madara’s hand. A shiny pink scar was now visible on his palm. It would be tender for a while, but that was much more bearable than the alternative.

Madara looked down and cleared his throat uncomfortably as Tobirama let his wrist go as well. “Thank you,” he eventually said.

“It’s not a problem,” Tobirama assured him.

After a few heartbeats of awkward silence, Madara found himself becoming agitated.

“What are you doing all the way out here, anyway?” he asked. “I figured that you would be talking to Nakamura.” He’d come out here to be alone, and Tobirama had effectively ruined that plan, but Madara couldn’t figure out why. The man had never been one for idle chitchat.

“Apparently, I was out here saving you from bleeding out,” Tobirama informed him. He was silent for a few moments before he cocked his head to the side and asked, “Why would I be talking to Nakamura? We just left him before we talked to Hashirama.”

“To ask him on a date,” Madara said, wondering why Tobirama was playing stupid again. He knew that the reason was blaringly obvious, even for someone like the Senju.

Tobirama smiled fondly at Madara. His heart almost stopped at the same time that his confusion set in. Why the hell was Tobirama smiling at him like that. It wasn’t that he didn’t like that it was happening; it was that he didn’t trust it.

“Why would I ask him on a date?” Tobirama asked. His tone was playful, and Madara didn’t know what to make of it. He just stood still, staring dumbly at the younger man. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Madara, “Are you sure that there isn’t something you want to tell me, Uchiha?”

“You’re up to something,” Madara finally decided. He took a step back, not trusting what was going on. He looked around worriedly, wondering what was about to jump out and ambush him while he was distracted. He had never taken Tobirama as the joking type, but that was what this had to be. Tobirama wasn’t making any sense and…and Madara paused in his panic as something lit up in his mind.

Tobirama had been asking Madara random and strange questions that the younger man would never just casually ask anyone. He had been looking at him with an expression of purely scientific curiosity, as though he had been trying to gather data for some important experiment. If the questions that Tobirama had been asking him had only been for his response and reaction, then there was only one conclusion that Madara could come up with.

“Do you have something that you want to tell me, Senju?” Madara asked him.

Tobirama smiled and walked up to Madara, moving so quickly that he was in Madara’s personal space before he could process what was happening. Madara felt an arm around his neck. He was snatched forward, and his lips crashed against another pair a heartbeat later. His eyes widened in surprise before the pleasurable sensation of Tobirama massaging his lips hit him and his lids fluttered shut. Instinctively, Madara’s hands reached out and latched onto Tobirama’s waist and tried to pull him closer just as he let his tongue flick out and swipe against Tobirama’s lips, never realizing how much he had been craving this. How had he wanted something so badly, and had never known what it was he wanted?

Tobirama pulled away from him much too soon. “Jealousy looks good on you,” Tobirama told him. He pushed himself out of Madara’s grip and started walking away, leaving the older man there, dumbfounded. “I like barbequed pork,” Tobirama called back over his shoulder as he got to the tree line. “Pick me up at seven thirty tonight, and don’t be late.”

Before Madara could manage to splutter anything out, Tobirama had disappeared. He just stood there for a few moments in a daze, trying to sort out what just happened. He looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was pretty far over in the sky. It was nearly six o’clock.

Madara’s eyes widened. Shit! I have to get ready!

He quickly picked up his kunai and put them back into his holsters before he took off into the forest, flying past trees, ducking over limbs, and jumping over roots. He’d be damned if he’d keep Tobirama waiting any longer than he’d already been waiting for him.

By the time that he got out of the forest, a dopey smile had graced his face, and he didn’t even bother trying to wipe it off. He was certain that it would scare the hell out of passersby, but that was okay too. He was a man in love, so it was totally acceptable for him to be acting a little strange. People better get used to it, though, because he didn’t see this feeling changing anytime soon.