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Tobirama woke up with the sensation of his brother's chakra in his body. It wasn't painful, but deeply disturbing, like it was tickling inside his veins. When he tried to move to relieve the itch, he found that his limbs weren't responding well. He felt like a cloud, and the contrast with his brother's nosy chakra was unpleasant. He moaned in frustration.
There was a noise, and then Hashirama's face appeared above him. Tobirama frowned. His brother had a horrible head. His hair was greasy and frizzy in spots, his eyes were bloodshot and lined with dark circles that looked like bruises, and a beard was starting to gnaw at his cheeks.
"You look awful," Tobirama informed him most seriously.
Hashirama wrinkled his nose and held out a green chakra-enlightened hand. Tobirama groaned at the thought of having more unreachable itches. He bared his teeth as best he could. His lips were oddly numb, even though he wasn't cold.
"No."
"Tobirama, I need to check that you are okay."
"I don't like your chakra," Tobirama retorted, mustering all his displeasure into a pout. "It moves too much. That tickles."
"What's wrong with him?" asked a deep voice.
"He's drunk on chakra," Hashirama replied, looking torn between amusement and offense. "His reactions can be a bit unpredictable."
"It's possible?"
"Tobirama has particularly open coils. He is the only one I know to be affected by excess chakra in this way. The pain meds I gave him didn't help."
Tobirama wasn't listening; he was too busy concentrating to move his head. His brain was floating in his skull, and the bone felt too heavy, but he wanted to know where the voice was coming from. He couldn't feel the chakra around him; Hashirama had to block his sensor senses because he thought it allowed him to heal faster.
"Distract him," Hashirama murmured.
Before Tobirama could protest his brother's devious techniques, Hashirama was gone, and a stranger's face took his place. Tobirama's eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth dropped into a perfect circle.
This man was fluffy . There was lots of hair everywhere, baby cheeks, and a frown that deepened every second. He was like a grumpy, fluffy old cat, and Tobirama wanted, no, needed, to touch him.
Unable to help himself, he reached out with clumsy fingers and pinched the adorable cheeks before lightly pulling them. The man let out an indignant cry, but Tobirama didn't care. He put the cheeks back normally, then squeezed them. The skin was soft and elastic and felt wonderful under his hands.
"You're adorable," he breathed in wonder. "Like a rabbit."
After some interesting strangled sounds, the man finally spurted out:
"I did not wait three days to be insulted!"
Tobirama frowned, hurt that his compliment was misunderstood.
"Nooo, don't be mad," he said, poking an index finger in one cheek.
"You just said I was cute!"
Tobirama nodded with all the seriousness he reserved for negotiations with the Uzumaki.
" Yes. You are the cutest person I have ever seen. I like your cheeks. And your hair," he added thoughtfully, flicking a dark lock of hair. He squealed in delight at the contact. "Soft!"
The lovely man's face was bright red, but he didn't back down and let Tobirama touch him.
"Why does he do that?" he growled.
"He doesn't have a verbal filter," his brother replied from somewhere near his feet. "You who wanted honesty and openness, you will be served."
The man's face twisted as if he were drinking bad tea, then he leaned over Tobirama and brushed a few strands from his forehead before beginning to stroke his hair.
"How are you feeling, Tobirama?"
He couldn't answer, his neurons overloaded by the fact that this gorgeous man had stroked his hair.
His hair. To him, Tobirama. And he continued.
He could feel his whole face relax in wonder.
"Tobirama?"
And the grumpy handsome man knew his name! He was worried about him! How had he met such a wonderful and perfect person?
Hashirama let out a small laugh.
"I think you broke him."
Tobirama wanted to frown, but he couldn't take his eyes off the man. The latter leaned a little closer and asked softly:
"How are you feeling?"
Unable to formulate the multitude of emotions fighting for the top spot in his head, Tobirama could only reply:
" Cloud."
"Totally drunk," Hashirama commented.
Tobirama wanted him to shut up.
"Shut up and heal him, idiot," the man growled.
How had he known? Could he read minds? Was he a god? Was that what love at first sight looked like?
"Oh," he breathed.
He was in love? Was that what it looked like? The creature tilted his head to the side with an amused smile, but his eyes were worried. Worried about Tobirama.
It was-
Oh. wow. He didn't think anyone besides Hashirama cared about him, and this man stood there, so caring, so kind. Against his will—why wouldn't his stupid face obey?—he felt his chin wrinkle and his mouth twist.
"Tobirama? You hurt somewhere?"
It was too much kindness. His burning eyes overflowed with tears, and he gasped through his constricted throat:
"You are too cute. I can't- "
His tear-filled eyes squinted at the face that bent over him with red eyes and a broad, bright smile.
"You can't what?"
Gloved hands gently cupped his face, and thumbs wiped away his tears. The softness of the gesture only made Tobirama cry more.
"I'm bad at relationships, but I really want you to love me."
An unfairly sexy smirk twisted that full-lipped mouth. Perfect for kissing. He couldn't help but stare at them, and the smile widened.
"You have nothing to do, idiot; I fell in love on my own."
The shock stopped Tobirama's tears in their tracks.
He had heard right?
"Love?" he asked, not daring to believe it. "You love me?"
He must have made a funny face, because the man burst out laughing. It wasn't mocking, or at least not mean, and Tobirama marveled that someone so perfect could fall in love with someone like him. That someone could love him at all, to the point of being at his bedside.
"Well, you're my husband, so I must care about you somehow."
Tobirama's world stopped.
"Married?" he exhaled.
It must have been a joke, so he looked at Hashirama. His brother wouldn't let anyone play with his heart again, not after the last time. He would tell him if the stranger laughed at him.
His brother gave him a soft smile and nodded once. Stunned, Tobirama looked up at the man, who was watching him with an unbearable gentleness over his sullen features. Tenderness? Yes, it was tenderness for him and love too.
Because this wonderful, kind, grumpy man with baby cheeks and soft hair loved him.
And Tobirama didn't even know his name.
Realization swept through him like a wave, and he was falling, drowning in it. The tears overflowed again, and he didn't care to control them because his perfect man, his husband, had been waiting for three days and Tobirama couldn't remember his name.
"Tobirama?"
There was concern in that gentle face and caution in that deep voice. His husband seemed to fear that he had done something wrong, when it was Tobirama who couldn't even remember him, and it was Tobirama who had probably taught him to be suspicious like that, because Tobirama was cold and ruthless and a demon, and that he couldn't...
"I'm sorry."
His vision was blurry, but he could hear his husband's concern.
"For what?"
"You are so perfect," Tobirama breathed. He couldn't help but reach out his hands to caress the eyebrows, the nose, the dark circles, and tug on those elastic cheeks. "You're gorgeous, with adorable cheeks and hair like raven's wings, and you're all grumpy, and--and you're hot and you smell good; I want to roll inside you and caress you, can I? Please ? I want to brush your hair and make you smile; you look so beautiful when you smile and tell my brother to shut up. You are perfect," he whispered. "You are so perfect, and I am a filthy miserable worm. I don't even remember you. I'm a horrible husband; how did you agree to marry me? What do I have to do to keep you forever? For you to give me a hug? For- "
"Otouto," his brother interjected in a watery voice.
He was probably crying, but Tobirama couldn't verify it because he was crying too and couldn't see much.
The man took a deep breath, then leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"Madara. My name is Madara, and I will stay as long as you ask me to."
His trembling hands moved Tobirama, and the bed shifted under the added weight. An arm brought it against a strong, warm chest, pushing all the air out of Tobirama's lungs. He could only snuggle up to his husband's smelly throat and let the long hair hide him from the rest of the world. A soft chin rested on top of his head, and the chest beneath him heaved a sigh.
"Sleep, Tobirama. I will be there when you wake up."
Madara immediately felt his husband let go and sink into a restful sleep. Still dazed, he wiped the tears from Tobirama's sharp cheekbones, not looking very carefully at Hashirama, who was crying in the corner.
"This is the most beautiful confession of love I have heard!" the Senju whined, for once sharing an uncanny resemblance to the man in his arms.
"Shut up," Madara retorted to avoid nodding.
He hid a smile in Tobirama's spiky hair, his chest swelling with love and relief. He had feared that after three years of a marriage arranged by their elders as petty revenge and two years of cold cordiality, his love would never be returned. An Uchiha's love wasn't meant to be hidden, and he knew some people were waiting impatiently for him to crumble, suffocated by his own feelings.
In any other situation, he would have kept Tobirama's polite distance and made sure to drive the man out of his heart. But how do you do that when he was his husband and his presence made him fall a little further each day? What else could he do but hope?
He had feared, after their argument, that he had no chance. When he heard that Tobirama was in the hospital, that fear turned to terror. He had lost control for the first time and was confined to the hospital to calm down in Tobirama's presence.
Three days of pure agony and uncertainty, sustained only by Hashirama and the slow movement of Tobirama's chest. Three days, wondering how to negotiate between this devouring love and Tobirama's will. He couldn't return to cold politeness after that, and that terrified him.
In his slightly too tight arms, Tobirama made a sound of discomfort before purring when Madara stroked his hair. The Uchiha closed his eyes and thanked Amaterasu for his husband's drugged spirit. He could have lived without the vision of Hashirama in his brother's body, with all its tears and ridiculous declarations, but the truth of Tobirama's heart was not to be feared.
He fell asleep against his husband, not caring how he would explain their position when Tobirama would wake up with a clearer mind.
He only hoped that his husband wouldn't remember that and that Hashirama wouldn't tell anyone that Tobirama's first reaction upon seeing him had been to pull his cheeks.