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Tobirama runs the brush through Madara's hair, swearing under his breath as it catches on yet another knot.
He's done this for all of his family - anija, Tōka-nee, and aneue - but only his lovers have otherwise granted him the privilege of being trusted at their backs.
Madara however, has given him this gift almost since the first night they fell into bed together. It was entirely unexpected, and Tobirama hadn't planned upon it, but perhaps it was the way he'd entrusted himself to Madara's care that night which made the difference.
Or perhaps Madara simply has his own reasons.
Certainly the way the hair that lies heavy between Tobirama's fingers has broken enough combs in the time they've been lovers to warrant the welcome of an extra pair of hands. He untangles the knot, careful not to pull, and drags the brush through dark strands until they all hang freely, if not neatly.
Unwilling to give up the hush of the night, lured by the warmth of closeness, Tobirama finds himself falling into familiar patterns. It's late though, and his brush strokes become slower and slower as Madara's breathing deepens.
He bites his lip, glancing a the kumihimo around his wrist.
Plain, undistinguished except for the way it holds Itama's bells, it could be seen as an insolent addition or an insult to a warrior like his lover. Tobirama gives in to impulse however, pulling Madara's hair away from his face and securing it with a loop of red before tying the rest of it off into a long tail.
This is a style worn only by women, but Madara says nothing, instead simply bringing Tobirama's wrist up to his lips for a gentle kiss.
Tobirama sighs with both relief and contentment as he wraps his lover in a gentle embrace.
This relationship is unlike any that he has ever had, and not only for the fact that Madara is a man, but it appears that some things are not so different after all.