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“Tobi, please?” Hashirama looked at his brother with pleading eyes. The fact that those eyes were currently upside down because Hashirama’s head was lolling over Mito’s arm didn’t make them any less efficient.
With a small sigh, Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where did you say Izuna was?”
“In Suna.”
“And Hikaku-san?” There might have been a tiny hint of desperation in Tobirama’s voice by this point.
It was Mito who answered, her voice sounding perfectly fine considering how much alcohol she had consumed. “Hikaku-san is on a mission with Touka-san. They won’t be back for another three days.”
Turning his head to survey the damage, Tobirama counted sixteen empty bottles on the table.
He could only be held accountable for two of those, which meant that the other three people present had consumed roughly four and a half bottles each, give or take. Though, there could be bottles on the floor that he didn’t currently see. Given how Hashirama had all but flopped over Mito’s lap, and was currently wiggling around like a puppy… Tobirama estimated that his brother might have drunk more than his share.
Then there was Madara, who was flat out on the tatami, staring up at the ceiling, counting something on his fingers. Madara, whom Hashirama had begged Tobirama to get home. Because compared to those two idiots, Tobirama was practically sober. Giving in with ill grace, Tobirama sighed dramatically. “You will owe me for this!”
“Of course.”, his brother chirped.
Taking a step towards Madara, Tobirama held out his hand. “Come on, Uchiha.”
Instead of taking the hand, Madara studied it. Huffing in annoyance, Tobirama bent down and attempted to get Hashirama’s friend to sit up. It took two tries before he gave in and snaked a hand behind Madara’s shoulders. The fact that the Uchiha menace allowed it was a clear sign how drunk he was. Another sign was how heavily he leaned against Tobirama when he was finally upright.
Tobirama regretted not making a clone when Madara nearly fell over as he attempted to get his sandals on. Then he regretted it again when they got outside and Madara put most of his weight against Tobirama. He regretted it a third time when they had made it to the end of the small path leading to Hashirama’s house. This time it was because if he’d had a clone, it could have warned him when Madara’s hand suddenly dropped and grabbed a handful of Tobirama’s ass.
He stopped and counted to ten, but all that did was give Madara time to flex his fingers and murmur something about how firm it was. Twisting out of the grip, Tobirama grabbed both of Madara’s hands. “No. Don’t… That’s… You don’t even like me.”
Madara pouted. And Tobirama just stared, because he had not been aware that Madara’s face could even do that kind of expression. The moment he took to process this was enough for Madara to free his hands from Tobirama’s grip, take a step closer, which put them chest-to-chest, and then both of Madara’s hands had a firm grip on Tobirama’s ass.
He spent another moment processing the new situation. Okay, so clearly Madara, while not exactly a fan of Tobirama himself, was a fan of Tobirama’s ass. That… Was inconvenient.
Taking a step backwards did not shake off the Uchiha limpet. Neither did a second step. Madara just followed. Then he stumbled and pressed his face into the juncture between Tobirama’s neck and shoulder. Standing still, wondering how to solve this, Tobirama nearly jumped out of his skin when Madara suddenly bit down on his neck. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but Tobirama didn’t dare to pull away, afraid that Madara would put more pressure on it. Silently the younger man cursed his own brother. Hashirama owed him for this. Big-time.
Slowly he started to shuffle backwards, more or less pulling Madara along with him, but it didn’t take him long to conclude that there was no way he would be able to navigate all the way to the Uchiha main house like this. Which meant… His own house. If he could get Madara into the guest room, he would have done his duty to his brother. And Madara wouldn’t be able to complain come morning.
It still took him the better part of half an hour to get Madara safely inside the front door, and it was only as he was shuffling them both down the hallway that it occurred to Tobirama that this was the first time Madara was in his house. Fortunately it didn’t look like the Uchiha was inclined to explore, as he was still clinging to Tobirama’s ass, and nibbling on his neck.
Using his foot to push the blanket aside on the guest bed, Tobirama then tried to get Madara to lie down. That part was easy. Extracting himself from the black-haired octopus was not. Madara more or less pulled Tobirama down on top of himself, toppling the Senju. Then he wrapped his legs around Tobirama’s hips.
Mortified, Tobirama tried to wiggle free, pushing up on his elbows. The sight that met him was shocking. Madara’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was slightly open. It looked like he was enjoying himself a lot. The soft moan the Uchiha let out corroborated that. And Tobirama froze.
“Uh, Uchiha? What are you..? You can’t possibly..?”
Madara started pulling on his kimono-shirt. “Too much… Take it off…”
Tobirama grabbed his hands. “Madara! What are you doing?”
“You have too many clothes…” There was that pout again, and Tobirama was really confused.
“Madara-san… You don’t even like me?!”
“That is not true! I think you are… Hot. Smart. And I want… I want.”
Tobirama felt incredulous. Madara wanted him? He had to ask. “You want me?”
“Yes!” Madara pulled on his shirt again. “Sit on my face... And tell me that you love me.”
The weird tension broke, and Tobirama couldn’t help but laugh.