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"You know," Izuna turns to face him, smiling slyly. "I always said I was going to take you with me."
"I never doubted it." Tobirama smirks back at his rival, but it's nothing more than the truth. "Not for a moment."
Izuna lifts the sakazuki and Tobirama waves his hand, directing a thin stream of sake into it. They take turns, drinking a few sips at a time, refilling the cup as necessary, and Tobirama watches pale cheeks flush under his attention.
"So." Izuna peeks up at him through long lashes. "Feel married yet?"
"I'm beginning to." He reaches out, catching his rival's chin and tilting it up before leaning down to catch those red lips with his own. "There. Now I feel married."
"And so you should." Izuna looks as smug as a cat with a fish, or perhaps a weasel with a rabbit. "Yome."