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Many of jutsu he worked on required perfect chakra control, which grew out of an understanding of its nature. Energy that depended on development of the body and soul changed varied from many factors, such as physical activity, health, mental stability, emotions experienced over time, and more. Tobirama had many records of the various changes that occurred in his body, lesser - in his emotions. But even these notes and numerous sensory training sessions from childhood did not make it much easier to understand one's own chakra.
Fortunately, he had a person who understood the structure of his inner energy almost as well, if not better. Even more fortunately, Izuna was willing to do many absurd things just for fun.
It didn't matter that he enjoyed these kissing sessions not only because of the new research data.
Tobirama let his shoulders drop, wincing at the noticeable tension between his shoulder blades. The paperwork was a nightmare, and as protective as Hashirama was in literally everything, he was happy to dump the paperwork on his more responsible younger brother. Fortunately for him, at least their second Hokage had more conscience and self-awareness, so Madara took on the last two stacks of documents.
A few years ago, Tobirama would never have thought that he would be so grateful to one of the Uchiha. And now there were at least decades of them.
"You reek of exhaustion for miles, Tobi, and I'm a bird, not a bloodhound."
Izuna probably thought he was very funny, judging by his smug grin, but Tobirama couldn't bring himself to respond. He hadn't been really annoyed by Uchiha's antics over the past three years, but it was a secret he intended to take to the grave. And when other lifted a towel over a plate containing a light but satisfying dinner, even his feigned annoyance vanished in favor of delicious food.
The Uchiha's were excellent cooks, perhaps because mastering fire was in their blood. The meat they prepared was unmatched, even by Akimichi's dishes. Their only weakness was in beverages and pastries, as their lands did not produce many grains, a problem that was resolved when their clans formed an alliance. The days of starving winters gone, where parents died in the froze to provide for their families. There were no fathers who disappeared in the snowstorm to find medicine, or wives who knitted warm clothes until dawn.
In Konoha, there were always warm homes, tables filled with food, pharmacies full of medicine, and comrades who were always ready to lend a helping hand. Just as their older brothers had dreamed of.
And all of this existed because at some point, they decided to live in peace instead of war.
Tobirama often found himself lost in thought about how their clans seemed destined to come together at some point – it was all leading up to it, and they needed each other, and life was never as good as it could have been – especially on those evenings when Izuna was around. Uchiha was half-lying on him like a heating pad, his legs draped over the arm of the couch, long since giving up on manners, as if it were his own home.
Considering how much time he spent here, it might have been true.
And that was a separate topic for reflection. Their closeness, its value, Izuna in itself.
He was a sharp kunai in his brother's sleeve, and he became the sword that protected their village. Tobirama, like many other Senju, had doubts when Hashirama made Izuna the head of the Anbu, but it had never come back to haunt them. It seemed that the Uchiha's youngest heir was born for this role: his analytical abilities and ability to find an approach made perfect teams, he had his own network of informants long before their clans united, and Izuna did not underestimate the importance of civilians, as many shinobi did. But, most importantly, what made him an excellent option, a quality that Mito had spoken about from the beginning, but which he noticed too late – Izuna went headlong into things when it came to what he valued, and he did not stop at anything. He was loving as only an Uchiha could be.
He knew when people couldn't return from a mission, and he didn't take their sacrifice for granted. He didn't turn a blind eye to the darkness or corruption that emerged here and there, and he dealt with it head-on, even if it was a member of his own clan. He made sure that even those who sold their souls to the village didn't regret it.
Izuna was gentle, as a hearth in one's home could be, even if it was more dangerous than a forest fire. And that was what made him so easy to love. It was what kept Tobirama awake at night, the idea that they could lose such a good leader, a shinobi, a human. Something that had never crossed his mind before now filled his thoughts.
"You looked tense today. Did you have a bad day?"
He didn't ask Izuna how he knew, even though they hadn't run into each other all day, because one of them hadn't returned from a mission and the other hadn't left his office. It was probably another one of those damn Uchiha summons.
"It's not bad, just busy," he pushed the empty plate away on the table and leaned against the back of the couch, unworthy spreading out on the soft furniture. Izuna snorted and sat up straight, only to lean against him again in the next second. It was annoying and not very comfortable. It was warm and familiar, so Tobirama wasn't particularly surprised when his body subconsciously shifted, creating more points of contact between them now that Uchiha was finally within reach again.
"I haven't slept well the past couple of days, preparing for the daimyo's visit."
Izuna grunted something, probably no longer quite there. Tobirama knew how it worked: on Anbu missions, they were rarely human, only tools, only shinobi. Uchiha tried to prevent this dehumanization among his subordinates, but he himself returned to this state on long missions. Tobirama couldn't blame him; this behavior had haunted him his entire life, despite Hashirama's attempts to rectify it. It was only within the walls of the Senju compound or, later, his own apartment, that he could loosen his grip on the sword, slowly regaining his humanity.
Tobirama didn't want to think too much about how Izuna was putting himself back together in his presence. They had once been bitter enemies, and such trust was a luxury. He didn't understand how Izuna could relax around him, no matter how many times it happened.
(Which, when you thought about it, was nonsense, because he knew that he would have done the same thing if he were in his place. Because Izuna wouldn't have been afraid or anger, he would have given him space and time to recover, not because he couldn't help, but because he trusted him to handle things on his own. It was a trait that his overprotective brother had never learned, and it was far more appealing in such moments. Izuna understood - maybe that's why they were as good partners as they were opponents)
"Are you going to conduct any experiments in the near future?"
Not really. He should have said so, and Izuna would have nodded and they would have chatted a little and gone their separate ways, or sat in silence and maybe fallen asleep in the same room, but. But they hadn't seen each other in a month – which was short for a shinobi, but Tobirama missed him. And Hashirama always said he should be a little more selfish with his desires. Even if he probably meant something else.
"I want to return to testing the combination of Hirashiin and Raiton to demonstrate this daimyo."
Izuna didn't notice his little lie, perhaps because he was too tired, or perhaps because he was too indignant, because he hissed like a cat and turned around, grabbing Tobirama by the shoulder with one hand. Uchiha's feet were resting on his own, and for a split second, his tired mind focused on that.
"Are you an idiot? Do you not remember what happened the last time you tested your damn Hirashiin when you were sleep-deprived?"
He winced – at the volume of the other's voice and at the memory it evoked. Of course he remembered. It was hard to forget a journey to a dimension where everything they and their families had fought for for years was lost. Where a boy with the face of Izuna, Izuna who had gone into a state of soulless machine to preserve his home and his family, had lost all of his clan and all that remained of his home. Where the boy with his brother's smile lived a life without love, filled with fear and contempt for who he was, instead of being respected for his strength and sacrifice.
Where Hashirama's body was never found or buried, and Madara turned away from all their shared ideals, consumed by grief. Where Tobirama killed Izuna for the sake of peace between their clans, which never truly came to pass. Where the last of their blood were those who bore the weight of the world.
It was a disgusting future, and Tobirama had no intention of going there again, he had enough nightmares of his own. That didn't mean he was going to say it out loud and lose the feeling of Izuna sitting on his thighs with a challenge in her eyes.
"I'm in good enough shape for my signature jutsu."
"Really? Let's check it out"
Tobirama doesn't remember when it went from being a simple chakra control exercise to something he was looking forward to. Of course, the lips were one of the most sensitive parts of the body. Of course, chakra was considered sacred, and touching it was like a ritual.
But it wasn't supposed to be this addictive, according to his original calculations. Of course, Izuna never liked to follow his plans, and he did everything he could to turn them upside down.
There was something about it that made him forget for a few minutes that he was a shinobi. That they had once been enemies. That their families had hated each other for centuries over spilled blood. Here and now, there was no death, no debt, no history, only Izuna, with his obsidian eyes and soft skin.
He always knew that Izuna was attractive. All Uchiha were considered attractive. It was no surprise that he had more...romantic experience than Tobirama, who found it easier to kill an enemy blind, armless, and legless than to flirt with someone. Izuna was sure to make fun of his inexperience the first few times, but then he would fall silent.
It was nice. In a silly, ridiculous way, like they were characters in a pulp novel, but it was still nice, and at some point, Tobirama realized that he wouldn't mind spending a couple of hours just kissing Izuna, slowly and leisurely, as if the world outside the window had stopped.
Hashirama would have laughed if he had known. It was a good thing that his partner was excellent at keeping secrets.
The essence of what was happening was originally in the chakra – and Izuna habitually reached out with his own, called the energy to the tips of his fingers, where they were woven into the blond hair. It was mind-numbingly pleasant, like a massage in one of the Yamanaka salons, but better. Uchis were always warm, but now it was concentrated warmth, and Izuna’s nails were sharp, and Tobirama restrained himself from making unworthy sounds like his calls in response to these machinations.
Uchiha just chuckled, continuing to comb his hair the way he did when he caught one of Tobirama's migraines.
"This is better than I expected. Are you finally starting to take care of yourself?"
He bit his tongue to keep from saying the truth that Touka had forcibly dragged him out of the office to eat and sleep because Izuna looked pleased with his progress. But Uchiha could read his face and rolled his eyes, bringing their noses closer together. It was ridiculous.
At the same time, it was charming. Tobirama wanted to kiss him again just because of that.
"You should pay better attention to your diet, Tobirama-a-a," Izuna said in a nasty drawl, a skill you learn as the youngest child in a large family. Everything about him seemed designed to get as much attention as possible, and while Tobirama had previously been driven to distraction by his own desire for peace, he now had to take back what he had said about Madara's softness: when he was like this, Izuna made him want to spoil him. Or throw him into the nearest pond.
"I eat well enough, unlike some people."
"Soldier pills are not food, and you know it! How many times has Akari-baa-san told you!"
He realized his mistake by chuckling at the image of Tajima Uchiha reacting to his youngest son calling one of the Senju elders grandmother, by the way Izuna’s eyes flashed. In wartime, that would have earned him a few burns and a ruined armor to boot.
In times of peace, Izuna would place one hand on the back of his neck, squeezing, and the other on his stomach, near his liver. It was dangerous. He could have summoned a raiton—he wouldn't even need signs, not with his level of control—and even Hashirama's medical jutsu wouldn't have brought Tobirama back to life. Instead, he summoned a small amount of fire chakra into his hands, and Tobirama's own water responded in a familiar and welcoming manner.
Where they touched, it was as if steam was forming. It was as if one of those irons was causing his nerve endings to smooth out, unraveling knots, and soothing the heaviness in his muscles. Izuna was observing his reaction with careful attention, even though he hadn't activated his Sharingan, and Tobirama gave in. There was no point in being coy when Uchiha was so openly concerned.
"I won't use Hirashin until I get some sleep."
"Promise?"
"I promise"
Izuna stopped, but he didn't remove his hands, staring at him intently and expectantly, just as he had looked at Madara when he was trying to find out how much he had slept. Tobirama had looked at Hashirama in a similar way when he was trying to find out how much he had worked.
"Keep in mind that every promise made under the shining gaze of Amaterasu is akin to an oath."
He refrained from making an annoyed noise, because Izuna had used that shitty phrase dozens of times, but any objections he might have had were drowned out by the way Uchiha placed his hands on Tobirama's cheeks, warming the back of his head with his fingertips, and kissed him. It was as if it wasn't just a way to check if Tobirama was strong enough to work. It was as if there was more to the kiss than that.
**
They didn't kiss for as long as he would have liked after such a long separation, but Izuna didn't leave, so Tobirama wasn't going to complain. At least not out loud.
They drank a mild fruit tea, a variety that Izuna had brought back from one of his missions. He had hidden supplies in Tobirama's apartment, and they shared it only with each other. It made him strangely content.
Uchiha talked a little about his last mission, and Tobirama talked about the preparations for the festival, but they spent most of the time in silence. It was a pleasant silence, filled with a sense of calm and relaxation that they hadn't experienced in most of their lives. Especially in each other's presence.
Then he persuaded – begged – Izuna to stay the night, arguing that they would be leaving for work together anyway. Uchiha smiled with a touch of amusement, as if he knew exactly what Tobirama was doing. But he didn't comment, so the blond man remained silent.
The third victory of the evening was that Izuna didn't argue when Tobirama asked him to be a heating pad, just chuckled arrogantly. Even the winters in Konoha were warm, but his nature was water, and it didn't heat up well.
And it didn't cool down well either. Maybe that's why he couldn't let Izuna go after letting him get close.
They settled in silence, without argument or idle chatter: Izuna lay against the wall, facing him, and Tobirama lay facing the door. It was simple and comfortable, and as Uchiha draped a leg over his thigh, pulling him closer, enveloping him in warmth, Tobirama felt the last of his work-related tension fade away, replaced by a sense of drowsiness.
It was another thing that he was afraid only Izuna could give him. The knowledge that no matter what position they fell asleep in, they would be safe. They had slept together on missions a couple of times, curled up like puppies in a basket, because it was cold and wet or cramped and dangerous. He could trust Izuna to cover his back and lie facing the exit, facing danger. They could lie facing each other, knowing that the other would protect their back in time. They could lie back-to-back, and it didn't feel like a rejection. It felt like he was just comfortable with Izuna, like he had been long ago, when he was a child and would fall asleep between his mother and brother.
Uchiha muttered a quiet good night and Tobirama replied in kind, almost on autopilot. He couldn't stop thinking about how things were good and easy with Izuna, unlike with anyone else.