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"I'm dying." Izuna flops over, moaning, and Madara tucks the edges of a blanket more securely under his little brother's shoulders.
"No you're not." He knows it won't have any impact, but it's habit to say it after all these years. "You're going to be fine."
"You are," Tobirama pours genmaicha into a cup and blows the steam towards Izuna's face, bathing it in the moist air. "Fine, that is."
"Dying!" Izuna whines pathetically, wiggling himself further under the blankets. "The least you can do is feed me!"
"You're absurd." Tobirama sets the cup down on the tatami before running through a familiar series of hand signs, and the tiniest water dragon Madara has ever seen pulls itself out of the tea before it goes snaking between Izuna's chapped lips. "Are you always like this?"
"Every time he gets sick, without fail," Madara rolls his eyes. "Ever since he was a child, he'd act just like this."
"Sick people are entitled to be cranky," Izuna sniffs imperiously, the haughty look he's aiming for totally ruined by the strand of snot hanging off his nose. "Now come here and cuddle me."
"Yes, Izuna." In contrast to his exasperated tone, Tobirama pulls up one corner of the blanket and slides underneath it with a haste that's flattering to the two Uchiha who taught him to enjoy snuggling. "Whatever you say, Izuna."
"Cold!" Izuna yelps, squirming away. "Cold toes! Augh, they're like ice!"
"All the better to fight your fever with," Tobirama replies unsympathetically, pressing closer, and Madara knows he has to do something.
"All right, stop fighting." He lifts up the blanket's opposite corner, climbing in on Izuna's other side and pulling his brother into his arms. "You're like children, the both of you."
A little bit of manoeuvring, and Madara manages to trap Tobirama's feet - freezing as always - between his own. It's not comfortable, of course, and won't be until Tobirama warms up properly, but he considers it well worth it as Izuna's eyes drift slowly closed.
Yes, this is a sacrifice he'll gladly make for love.