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After three very strong cups of coffee Madara had to deal with an overprotective older brother - namely Hashirama. He had very delicately avoided telling him the real truth and got away with a vague explanation consisting of a Madara falling asleep and a drunk Tobirama coming home, and that the silver haired man probably already had had those hickeys when he got home.
Hashirama had beamed saying something along the lines that in their subconscious mind they're already making friends and whatnot. Madara had only let out a small sigh, but let it slide. It was better to make Hashirama believe that than the truth, and the said man seemed to have forgotten about the hickeys either that or he was oblivious as to who Tobirama would have had gotten them from instead.
As soon as Madara had explained his version of what had happened and Hashirama seemed content, he had left to go home. Probably having to explain all over again to his little brother, who most likely already knew if Mito truly had sent that photo to who he suspected she had, and said little brother would tease the living daylights out of him. With a heavy sigh he started his walk home.
A few hours later heavy eyelids slowly opened to let lights attack them, falling shut and trying to adjust to the light. Head pounding, jogging the memory of the previous night. Silver hair fell over closed eyes as Tobirama moved to get up, cursing as each movement caused his head to throb.
He felt like shit once he had managed to slowly staggered his way towards the kitchen. Once there he took a big glass and filled it with bilberry soup, a beverage that was good to drink when one didn't feel so hot, along with some water.
Slowly he finished the soup, not daring to drink too fast in case he upset his stomach, if he could avoid throwing up that would be good, he did not want to refresh that feeling or memory nor the awful taste of it. The apartment was oddly silent except for the sounds he made, seemed Hashirama had disappeared somewhere fortunately, knowing his brother he was probably out with Mito somewhere.
Setting down the empty glass on the counter he slowly headed towards the bathroom, as his bladder reminded him it was full. Standing in front of the toilet trying to open his pants seemed to be a new challenge while being hungover. He still felt like shit and had to brace himself with one arm against the wall over the toilet, while he aimed with the other emptying his bladder into the bowl below.
Once he had finished he just stood there breathing trying to lessen the headache pounding away inside his head, before shaking the last droplets and putting himself back behind his pants and heading over to the sink to brush his teeth. Grabbing the toothbrush from its' stand and putting toothpaste onto it and then a bit of water.
He lazily let the brush slide over his gums as he tried to ignore his headache. His eyes slowly drifted to the mirror and watched his reflection. Silver hair more messy than usual, bloodshot red eyes stared back at him briefly as his gaze slid lower to take in his hungover countenance.
Something on his neck caught his attention, while he let his gaze travel further down on his reflection to inspect what is was. It looked like some sort of bruise and it stood out pretty fairly on his already pale skin. How had he gotten those? What had happened yesterday, he tried to jog his memory of anything but came up empty handed.
Suddenly like a lightning bolt had struck he remembered, momentarily frozen by the realization, hadn't Madara been the one on top of him this morning on the sofa? Madara as in the Uchiha Madara, the man who always lashed out a verbal fight with him had been leaning over him on his arms while their midsections were still connected, luckily both had been fully clothed.
Then he recalled vaguely that Madara had sputtered something in denial about snuggling, in his head he distantly heard Mito's voice disagreeing and something about that she had proof. Said proof was not something he had seen himself, as he had been to hungover to deal with the situation and just wanted to rest and sleep it off. Hadn't Madara looked slightly guilty when he had moved to let Tobirama up from the sofa, or was his mind playing tricks on him now?
"OH MY GOD! Is that a hickeys on your neck Tobirama?! Madara what have you done.. or don't answer that.. do I even want to know?" The words from his overprotective big brother rang unbidden through his head. Snuggle, hickeys and Madara added into the equation his hungover brain tried to slowly solve, connecting the dots of how it was related to each other.
A shocked expression hit him full force as all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, though it looked a bit dopey with a toothbrush hanging loosely out of his mouth, had it really been Madara? Didn't they share a mutual dislike for each other, so why? It didn't make any sense at all.
Tobirama couldn't wrap his head around this new revelation, the theory was still alien and to some extent absurd to him. Somewhere deep inside his mind he had this indistinct sensory memory of someone making out with him, feeling a feeble shiver going down his spine.
The thoughts of it possibly have been Madara lingered in his head, together with his slowly subsiding headache as he finished brushing his teeth and headed back to lie down on his bed. Once settled on the soft mattress on his side in a fetal position, he closed his eyes to rest.
It was pure bliss, no sounds and the soft pillow underneath his head lulling him back towards sleep, although the peace didn't last long. His phone went off with a loud sound signaling he got a text message. Too curious to let it be, he reached for the phone and unlocked the screen to be able to read the whole message, his whole being froze at the sight that met him.
There on the screen was an innocent photo of him and Madara lying on the sofa, limbs tangled together and looked way too comfortable with each other to not be seen as something uncompromising. His eyes studied the photo in detail before sliding down to read the text underneath it:
'I know we drank a lot yesterday, but I didn't think you was THAT drunk, to not be picky about who you bed.'
It was from his dear cousin Touka, of course she would think that he had bedded Madara based on a single photo of them snuggling together. That there even was evidence of it was bad enough, he'd never be able to live it down. Surely if Touka had received the photo, she had most likely already sent it to Izuna, and that was bad, real bad. He could feel his headache returning as the younger Uchiha wouldn't shut up about it and tease him until hell froze.
'I didn't bed Madara if that's what you're insinuating. I don't even know how we ended up like that, the only thing I remember is that I got home and went to sit next to Hashirama...' He started to type as he suddenly realized something. It hadn't been Hashirama on the sofa, it had been Madara from the start and he had leaned against the man's shoulder, that much he remembered before it became blank.
His finger twitched and accidently sent the message on its' merry way, cursing as he noticed it too late. Touka would have a field day with that open-ended message. Dread curled into the pit of his stomach as he saw the small bubble appear that indicated that Touka was typing.
'So, you're telling me that you was so drunk, that you thought you snuggled with your brother? Didn't know you were into incest, Tobi.'
'That's not what I meant!' Why was he bothering replying, it would only make it worse. He'd already dug his own grave.
'Then what did you mean? Or you knew it was him and decided to finally act out your little fantasy with the big bad Uchiha?'
Tobirama swore to any god willing to listen that he'd commit murder soon if the ground didn't open up before long and swallowed him whole. Committing seppuku seemed rather tempting as well, anything to get out of this sticky situation.
'I don't want to snuggle my brother, and I don't have any fantasy involving an Uchiha!' Their text conversation moved rather slowly, as it took Tobirama some time to type in his current state. It didn't seem to bother Touka though, even if she was used to his speedy replies.
'Then how do you explain the two of you snuggled up so intimately against each other, hm?' He could even hear Touka's teasing voice inside his head, maybe he should just put the phone away and pretend it had never happened, but then again it was too late for that as well.
'I don't know, I don't remember. I don't even remember if I had these hickeys before I got home or not.'
'Hickeys? What hickeys?'
'These.' Before he could think about the consequences about his action, he snapped a selfie of himself with the hickeys visible and sent it.
'Oh, you didn't have those when you left us, seems like you had fun though~'
Only now did Tobirama realize that Touka had indeed trapped him into sending a photo of them, and he had taken the bait like hook, line and sinker. Screw it all sideways, he cursed inwardly to himself as he stared on the screen of his phone, a deep frown set between his eyebrows.
'Don't you dare send that selfie to anyone!' He typed out as quickly as he could.
'Ooops, too late, you know how nimble my fingers are Tobi~'
His life was officially over, there was no way in hell he would get out of this not when the evidence was probably spreading like wildfire along the gossip chain. No matter what he would write now, it wouldn't change anything. The stage was already set, waiting for the drama to unfold.
Before putting his phone away he glanced at the photo of them tangled up in each other's arms one last time. In the photo both of them looked fairly peaceful and Madara's sleeping face looked somewhat cute without its' usual frown and creases.
Uchiha Madara cute?! The hell was wrong with his brain, wasn't it bad enough that he would have problem looking the man in the eye after learning that they had indeed snuggled on the sofa in this very apartment. He'll never look said sofa the same ever again.