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Mornings had never been kind to Madara. The sun was always too bright, his hair always finding ways to choke him or creep into his mouth, the room was always too cold out from underneath the blankets. It was an awful, terrible, very bad part of the day that he wished he could skip over without the many issues that would come from not attending his morning duties.
One thing, at least, could manage to bring some sort of good into such a horrific time of his life. That thing happened to be the fingers trailing lightly up his side, the arm that slipped around his waist to tug him backwards, the pair of lips that left lazy approximation of kisses on his neck and cheek. Madara turned and fumbled about with the blankets, not even cracking his eyes as he patted about for Ryouji’s head, moving in for a proper kiss and entirely missing - and also entirely uncaring that he kissed the man’s jaw instead.
“Morning, love.”
He grunted and buried his face into Ryouji’s chest instead of answering, ignoring the soft laughter in favor of squidding him instead. At least he didn’t bother with the lie of calling it a ‘good’ morning - though, then again, with that hand that was running ever lower down his back, Madara might just be able to be convinced it could turn into one with a little effort.