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Inexorable Sea Meets Unquenchable Flame

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"Ah . . . Tobi? Is everything all right?" Hashirama asked, wincing as his brother's head snapped up and he met bloodshot, heavily shadowed eyes.

"-s no sense!" Tobirama protested, rubbing his hands through his already wild hair and then banging them down flat on his desk. Hashirama was a little afraid to ask what made no sense exactly, but made an encouraging sort of noise, hoping it was also soothing, because Tobi got so high-strung when he was like this.

"That blasted-" Tobirama sputtered a few times before spitting out, "Uchiha! Anyone can tell you we don't get along, he can't even stand the sight of me - honestly that he'd rather gut me than look at me! And now he is seeking me out? Asking me to- No! No sense in it! Uchiha are all mad, Anija!" He turned another wild-eyed look on Hashirama.

Oh. Oh dear, Hashirama thought, because there was only one Uchiha Tobi would be likely to describe in quite those terms any more, and if he hadn't put together what Hashirama had already seen. . .

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". . .how angry should I be getting right now?" Madara said with surprising restraint, though he was tense - even his hair was seemingly fluffed up with the tension strung across his frame, to Tobirama's amusement.

Tobirama reached up and wiped his cheek, nose wrinkling at the feel of sticky drying blood smearing over his skin. "It was a mess," Tobirama allowed, moving towards his lover with a smile tugging at his lips, "but this mess is mostly theirs."

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"You know, you can be surprisingly attractive when you're shouting." Tobirama said almost idly, into the silence left as Madara took a brief pause for breath in the middle of his rant.

His eyes widened and he whirled on Tobirama, barely noticing Hashirama's slack-jawed gaping to his other side. "What- I- Is that supposed to make me feel better? This proposal is trash!" he bellowed, shaking the scroll.

"No. . ." Tobirama rose and moved towards Madara with a slight smile and a raise of his eyebrow. "It was supposed to make you be quiet for a moment," he paused as Madara drew a deep breath, aware he would be practically puffing up with temper, then dropped a quick kiss on Madara's lips, making him freeze, "and it's true." Tobirama finished almost playfully, and then he was gone, slipping out the door while Madara was still trying to catch up with what he had done.

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"I hate you." Madara half-snarled into his ear in time with a harsh thrust that shot pleasurable lightning through his body, and Tobirama bit back a cry, head slamming into the wall. He barely felt the impact. "This," Madara punctuated his words with a forceful shove of his hands against Tobirama's hips, pinning him harder against the wall, "has always been a bad idea, between us."

As Madara pressed closer Tobirama couldn't quite catch a soft whine before it escaped him, but he wound his hands in Madara's hair and yanked, and Madara's low, choked groan covered his own sound. "Well, even I have to have a few of them." he returned roughly, tightening his thighs around Madara's hips and using the grip to force Madara into thrusting even harder.

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"Stop toying with that, it's revolting." Izuna said, half-playfully, tipping his head to where Tobirama was cradling the decorative fan Madara had given him that morning in one hand as he read over some scroll from Uzushio, absently running his thumb over one edge from time to time. "The two of you are just sickening in general," he added, wrinkling his nose with a laugh, "I mean honestly."

Tobirama looked up, suddenly sharp, arching an eyebrow at him. Izuna waggled his own in return, daring a response.

"You know I'm fucking your brother," Tobirama said dryly, and Izuna shot upright on the couch, choking, "have been for months, and, hell, I plan to do it again tonight. In your house." he added with a smirk.

Izuna opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, cringing as his too-active imagination provided images he really didn't need. "Thanks," he half-croaked, squeezing his eyes shut, "I hate it."

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". . .what are you doing, precisely?" Tobirama asked warily, eyeing the Uchiha Clan Head - legendary terror of Fire Country - who was . . . crawling around on the floor of his new office?

Madara startled at his question, then bounded gracefully to his feet, and Tobirama cocked his head curiously as he shifted his attention from Madara to take in the . . . empty boxes scattered around the office floor. "What? What are you doing in here?" Madara demanded, not quite as loud as he normally might, eyes cutting sideways rather than fix on Tobirama.

Tobirama opened his mouth to ask if Madara had - somehow - been the target of some sort of prank - who, other than either of their brothers, would prank Uchiha Madara? - then closed it sharply as an inky black feline leapt down from the shelf behind him into one of the boxes. His brows rose as he looked back up to Madara, who cleared his throat pointedly, but looked rather less than intimidating as another cat jumped up into his arms and he cradled the animal affectionately, fingers curling beneath its chin. A third cat wound its way around Madara's ankles, purring loudly, to settle smoothly in a low, flat box nearby.

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"Ah, Izu?" Madara began tentatively, moving into the main room. "Are you-"

"No, no!" Izuna waved a hand, the other one still clamped over his eyes, as it had been since seconds after he'd barged into Madara's study. "Let's never speak of it again! Also I am never coming into your study when the door is closed ever again." he added with a full-body shudder, his mouth twisting.

Madara cleared his throat, torn between blushing at how Izuna had found him and laughing at his brother - he'd been trying to teach Izuna boundaries since he was tiny, and apparently all he'd needed to do to get the concept through his stubborn head was . . . get caught fucking his little brother's friend cum rival across his desk.

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"Is it true?" Touka demands as she slams through the door into the Clan Head's office, and Hashirama leaps up, startled - and confused, admittedly - both by her words and even to see her back from her mission. He tries to ask her- "Is it true you great oaf?" Touka shouts, even louder, mouth twisted in a fierce snarl and eyes hard. "Have you bartered off my baby cousin to that-" she breaks off with a snarl when Hashirama, wide-eyed and shocked, doesn't have an answer for her, and whirls on her heel, storming away.

. . .Tobirama? Hashirama follows after Touka hurriedly, calling after her to explain, that he doesn't know what she's talking about, but she's not listening to him as she strides down the halls towards the family quarters.

"Tobi!" Touka calls as she goes. "Tell me that the news isn't true, that this tree-faced idiot hasn't promised you to Uchiha Madara for his idiotically hopeful-" she stops, choking, as she slams Tobirama's door open, and Hashirama sputters in confusion at her words, darting to her side only to see-

Tobirama stands near his bed, only mostly facing the door with his face turned aside, and his pale skin is flushed darkly, spread all down his neck and across his bare shoulders. Half tucked behind him, in a wild tangle of hair and similar state of undress, a livid red mark of teeth on his throat just visible over Tobirama's shoulder, Madara makes a rude gesture at the pair of them in the doorway.

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". . .Aniki? What are you doing?" Izuna asked, blinking sleepily as he came out into the kitchen. His sleep had been disturbed, and now he found his brother mumbling to himself, slouched at the kitchen table with both hands buried in his own hair.

Madara didn't seem to have noticed him, so Izuna listened for a short bit, waking up a little more and getting the shape of his brother's obvious distress . . . with some amusement. "Aniki." he said quietly, rubbing his hands over Madara's shoulders and squeezing gently, secure in the knowledge his brother knew him too well to ever lash out at him mistakenly, even if he hadn't yet sensed Izuna there. "I know feelings are scary, but it is okay. Let yourself have feelings. You got the peace you fought so hard for, maybe you should let yourself relax a little now and . . . want other things?" he suggested gently.


Tobirama put his back to the door and covered his face with a muffled groan of frustration he couldn't quite suppress, almost idly cursing that stupid man and his stupid mouth and his stupid fucking kiss and-

"Tobi?" Hashirama's voice jolted him from his thoughts and he dropped his hands, shaking his head slightly in blatant denial even as his brother darted closer to him, eyes wide. "Tobi, someone kissed you?" Hashirama half-demanded, his voice rising. Tobirama shook his head again, a little desperately. "Tobi, you- you're blushing, Tobi you liked him!"

Tobirama squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore both his brother and the intensifying heat in his cheeks, pressing further back against the door, too late to slip back out it and escape Hashirama. He cursed Madara again, silently, once more, for good measure.

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Madara awoke already purring, shivering a little under Tobirama's hands, but otherwise didn't move. Except for his hair, twisting and curling lovingly around Tobirama's wrists, bright crimson eyes heavy-lidded but still watching him and fanged mouths curled into lazy smiles.

Tobirama tugged, gently-rough, at one particularly languid lock, and the entire mass squirmed as Madara let out a long, low moan, all but melting into the bed.

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"Fucking Sage, get off get off get off!" Tobirama almost yelped, voice louder than he would usually let it go, lunging away from Madara and shoving him by the shoulder - carefully - when he tried to follow.

Madara, landing on his ass on the ground again, had the audacity to pout at Tobirama as he folded his arms sulkily. "You said you were cold." he huffed.

Tobirama was a little more focused on the tiny suiton he'd summoned up but he spared a glare at his . . . friend, boyfriend, whatever the aggravating man was, as he directed the water through the fur around his shoulders with a shiver. "And now I am on fire!" he snapped back, gesturing pointedly at his singed if no longer smouldering hair and the fur. "Would just- Holding me, or fucking hell sitting close together have been so hard?"

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Madara woke to a soft kiss and all but purred as he reached up to sink a hand into his lover's hair, whining when he pulled away and-

"See you next year, pet." Tobirama murmured, fingers stroking down Madara's cheek and jaw before he was suddenly gone.

Madara flailed a bit as his eyes snapped open, just catching sight of Tobirama - in full mission gear - slip out the window as he shouted distressedly and-

Remembered abruptly that it was the last day of the fucking year and Tobirama had taken an overnight mission with his genin earlier; he'd be back probably before Madara even got out of bed tomorrow.

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Mito winced, taking in the severity of the injury to her husband's head - bad enough that were he not himself it would be a significant worry - then turned, beginning to call out to their companions to return, only to fall silent, almost stunned as she took them in.

His gunbai flickering with the speed he brought it around, Madara gave the wicked grin that always left Mito slightly uneasy and then leapt, plummeting from the high promontory he had perched upon as though in retreat - clearly not so, as he swiftly drove into a knot of the attacking shinobi and in moments had those of them yet drawing breath in a panicked rout.

And Tobirama! Save for his colouring, he could have been any of Mito's mother's contemporaries as he stood, unflinching, atop a rock - the centre of a vicious waterspout he had summoned from the dry air. A sharp, controlled gesture sent it to swallow up some of their now-fleeing attackers, the stormy water gaining a pink tinge.

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"How do you even do this to yourself? And don't you own gloves?" Madara demanded, seizing Tobirama's hands between his own and rubbing, gentle but firm.

"I'm fi- Oh that feels good." Tobirama breathed, sagging a little as a surprising amount of heat bled into his frozen hands from Madara's own.

Madara snorted, shaking his head. Then he bowed it, squeezing Tobirama's hands a little tighter and breathing a tiny katon in the space between their bodies. Tobirama startled, but the little flame faded as quickly as it had come, and Madara only rubbed his slowly-warming hands again, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

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"I can make you want me, need me," Madara growled, fingers tightening on Tobirama's shoulders as he pushed him down harder to the earth, "make you belong to me." he finished in a low, rough tone, Sharingan whirling.

Tobirama tilted his head slightly, not fighting Madara's hold, though he couldn't have broken it so easily, and reached up slowly. Madara tensed, but Tobirama only gave his cheek a gentle, feathery caress, then brushed his fingertips by Madara's eye. "Madara," he said softly, not flinching away from Madara's gaze, "you don't need your Sharingan to do that."

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Madara's eyes flash as he turns, flinging aside the boy - the last living Uchiha; at least, if Madara hasn't managed to kill him yet - and then pausing, squaring broad shoulders as he faces Tobirama once more.

Tobirama . . . is tired. He would fight until the ends of his strength for his village, his brother's village - and he has done so, fought once to the end of his very life. Now. . . Now he has seen the end to yet another threat looming over Konoha and yet again been faced with Uchiha Madara on a battlefield and Tobirama only wishes. . .

Madara wrenches free the single one of the kuroi jushinki pinning Tobirama's head to the dirt, then kneels before him. "What is that look? Not so free to offer judgement as you once were, Senju?" Madara spits, Rinnegan eyes narrowed. "This body will give out and soon you'll be gone, back to the Pure Lands."

Tobirama misses the eerie ruby gleam of Madara's Sharingan. "I don't care." he says, honestly, because he cannot fight any more now, can do nothing but wait to return to death, Madara is right about that, he may as well finally be honest in this. "I never wished to see you as an enemy again, Madara," he says evenly, then braces himself, "and unlike my brother, I never judged you nor ever wished you gone, even when you left us. I," he pauses, then continues on a soft breath, "I wished I could follow."

Madara looks stunned for half a beat then stiffens, glare sharpening. "Well whatever you wished, you can't follow me now," he says darkly, lips twisting in a vicious smile. "Even if you could, join me and you'd never return to-"

"I don't care." Tobirama repeats wearily, interrupting Madara, because he never has and he doesn't know how it wasn't obvious - wasn't ever - save that Madara is something of a disaster and always has been. "I wouldn't," he adds softly, "if I could be at your side."

Madara watches him for a long moment, then rises and turns away. Tobirama closes his eyes - he hardly expected anything else, but it was . . . good, to finally be honest - and-

Madara pulls the first of the kuroi jushinki from his back.

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"My best friend left me for dead, our dream better without me in it, my own Clan turned their backs on me, I couldn't protect or save even one of my brothers-" just as Madara's voice began to crack painfully he was interrupted by a warm, gentle, consuming kiss.

He stared up at Tobirama, now cradling his face. "You will not break me, Madara."

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"So given that between your complete inability to flirt without shouting - really, Aniki? - and his own obliviousness to anything that isn't an enemy or a piece of paper," Izuna said with a sigh, "thus far there's been . . . roughly zero progress with your crush - possibly negative progress, given the screaming incident-"

"It is not a crush!" Madara shouted, interrupting Izuna, face flushing brightly even as he folded his arms and leaned forwards aggressively.

Izuna favoured his brother with a flat look. "Right. Look, Aniki, it's . . . fine, I've adjusted," he waved a hand, "to your feelings for him, just let me call it what it-" he found himself once again drowned out by a protest from Madara and sighed, propping his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm to wait out the outburst.

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Madara was a breath away from setting his entire desk full of paperwork and complaints on fire when a soft knock at his office door disrupted his glaring at the mess.

"What is it?" Madara snapped, fingers tightening around his brush until it strained under his grip.

"Ano, Madara-shishou?" Kagami peeked tentatively around the door and Madara sighed, making an effort to gentle his expression as he saw the boy. Kagami edged just inside and bobbed a shallow bow, not quite looking away from Madara but not seeming unduly frightened. "You asked to be told if Tobirama-sama hadn't come out of the library. . ."

"Ah, right, good." Madara's expression was softening even more, he could feel it; his intended was . . . insatiable when it came to books and scrolls. "Foolish Senju." he muttered fondly. "He hasn't come out since lunch?" he asked as he rose from his desk, putting aside the Elder Council's latest demand along with his brush.

Kagami shifted anxiously and Madara cocked his head, eyeing the boy. "Eh . . . no." Kagami shook his head, then bit his lip. "Not at all today, Madara-shishou." he corrected.

Madara sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. "Of course he hasn't." he said dryly.

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Tobirama skimmed over the letter he had written, then left it in closing without his proper name - but he would recognise it - and folded it tightly. He looked over his shoulder, mouth twisting and heart aching at the sight of Madara's body - the insanity and despair that had dragged him down in life now as invisible as the passion he had always embodied. The figure on the bier was simply that - a lifeless figure, the shape of Madara with none of what had made him so impressive, so infuriating.

Tobirama turned away, wetting his brush and scribing a complex seal on the outside of the letter, watching it dry with a strangely still mind. He splayed one hand over the seal, charging it with his chakra in a powerful pulse.

The letter disappeared and Tobirama silently prayed his younger self, please . . . get things right this time.

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"What. . . What the hell is this?" Madara asked, fighting down a small surge of adrenaline as he read over some of the things scribbled on the scroll he'd found on his lover's bedside table. The least alarming item appeared to be a blade of lightning; some of the others were downright. . . Madara swallowed, the occasional word in distractedly slanted yet familiarly precise script catching his attention and building into a more and more unsettling picture in his mind.

"Hm? Oh. . . Projects I've been forced to put aside, at least until I have more time to work out the difficulties inherent to them." Tobirama supplied with a distracted look and a disappointed sigh, suddenly reminding Madara that while not the strongest - though certainly close behind - the man sharing his bed was one of the most dangerous in their fledgling village.

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Madara freezes in horror, staring at the figure laughing as Konoha forces are laid out bloody before him; he is all but unscathed, save for the pale flesh of one arm that looks unreal and the- the face growing from his chest, unfortunately well recognisable, and he laughs with mad abandon, impossible Rinnegan eyes darting wildly over those of his opponents still moving. "This- This is me." Madara says in a choked tone, wishing it was less obvious, wishing it wasn't true, wishing that-

"It is not." Tobirama says firmly, dragging his head around with both hands framing his face; Madara cannot but meet his eyes. "It is not and it never will be; this world will never happen, we will be sure of it." Tobirama promises, moving closer still, the warmth of his body tangible through both their clothes. "Let go of the chakra feeding the jutsu, bring us both home," he coaxes, thumbs stroking Madara's cheeks, "we will make sure this future never comes to pass."

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"Ahh- Ah!" Madara's back arched sharply, head tipping back to ease the sudden strain as his lover's hands tightened in his hair, pulling it roughly down his back as heat rushed up his spine. His fingers curled, digging more harshly into Tobirama's hips as the arch of his body drove his cock deeper into his lover and wrung a trembling, breathless cry from his lips.

Still keening, Tobirama's short nails scratched at Madara's back and he pulled Madara's hair again, stinging and rough. He moaned at the pleasure-pain of it even as Tobirama arched beneath him, legs closing tighter around his hips as he rocked into Madara's movements.

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"Tobi~ That's not a real resolution at all!" Hashirama nearly wailed, his voice carrying out the not-quite-closed door of the Hokage's office.

Madara glanced sideways at his brother, who shrugged but tipped his head curiously towards the door; they moved a little closer, but didn't yet enter.

"It will take real willpower," Tobirama said, his voice painfully dry enough to make Madara snort, "and if you do insist on my taking part in this ridiculous tradition, that's my resolution for the year."

"What is it?" Izuna asked, slipping between Madara and the doorframe and into the office; Madara sighed and followed after him.

"Tobi says his resolution is-"

"Not to kill people who annoy me." Tobirama said, looking up, his lips tilted in the tiniest smirk. He ruffled the papers he held and then sighed as he looked at them. "Unless absolutely unavoidable." he added in a low mutter.

Madara blinked, then turned to face his best friend, pointing at Tobirama. "That sounds much more sensible!" he said, scowling. If also frustrating. "If there must be some sort of restriction-"

"Resolution!" Hashirama protested, and Madara snorted, rolling his eyes.

"I'm adopting that one." Madara said firmly, waving his hand in Tobirama's direction. "Forget your ridiculous soppy nonsense."

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"I have a question for you," Madara murmured into Tobirama's ear, between gentle nips and hot, openmouthed kisses to his neck that were making him whine soundlessly and go boneless in his lover's arms, "about yesterday afternoon."

"Mm?" Tobirama half-whined, not very coherently for all his best efforts as Madara slipped a hand down beneath his waistband, fingertips scratching lightly through wiry curls.

"Why," Madara asked, pulling Tobirama more fully back against his chest, "did you have a kage bunshin standing in the doorway watching us?" Tobirama moaned and Madara's lips curved into a smile pressed against his shoulder. "You surely didn't think I would miss it, having your sharp eyes on me, did you?"

Tobirama arched into his lover's touch, then turned suddenly, sliding one hand over Madara's shoulder and pushing into his hair as met Madara with a demanding kiss. He shivered under the caress, wavering on his feet, and Tobirama smirked as he pulled away. "You get to remember the sight of us together," he said softly, barely a breath, and ran his thumb beside one of Madara's dark eyes, "why shouldn't I memorise it as well?"

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"No!" Izuna practically shrieked, and Tobirama startled, fingers tightening on his kunai as he stared at his opponent. "Who bested you? Only I'm allowed to beat you! You're my rival!"

Tobirama relaxed abruptly even as Izuna pointed accusingly at him - or perhaps more directly at his bruised neck and shoulders - and arched an eyebrow. "Truly?" he asked dryly. "This is your problem?" He rolled his eyes as Izuna opened his mouth on the beginnings of another screech. "Take it up with your brother, then," he huffed, not quite able to suppress his smile, despite himself, "he's the one who marked me, though I assure you," he added archly, "he had no need of besting me to do it."

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"Whoa. . . That's amazing!" Kagami breathed, staring with wide eyes at the powerful clash taking over the training ground below.

"Which one?"

Kagami just gestured emphatically at the entire area. He couldn't tear his gaze from the serpentine coil of a dragon shaped of water that encircled Tobirama-sensei and reared up high, jaws wide, snapping at the ribbons of fire spilling off the even larger fiery dragon Madara-shishou had breathed into life with a roar.

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"Don't panic? Are you joking?" Madura nearly screeched, bloody fingers slipping on the handle of his gunbai as he leapt clear of an attack and brought it around as a shield.

Tobirama paused, mid-battlefield, and frowned. "Is that an I am the great Uchiha Madara, I never panic, or-"

"Did you or did you not raise the thrice-cindered dead?" Madara did screech this time. "Panic is in fact the only reasonable reaction you over-intelligent, senseless menace!"

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". . .where is his body, Anija?" Tobirama said almost numbly, still struggling to comprehend not only the depths Madara - a familiar figure in the village, though grown quiet and grief-stricken - had sunk to, but that his brother had killed him. Years at war and Hashirama had forever refused even to unleash his full strength on Madara, but now . . . now he had done so?

Tobirama swallowed roughly, coming to a stop beside the bloodied, crumpled figure near the raw, new edge of a cliff. In the back, Anija? Tobirama thought, shaking his head as he knelt by Madara's body - a figure, a creature that should never have been brought so low, left so carelessly forgotten; one who had once dreamed of incredible tomorrows with a fervour to at least match Hashirama's.

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"You'll never get anywhere if you don't try, Tobi!" Hashirama said encouragingly, nodding at Tobirama in a way he suspected was intended to be bracing. "Just speak with him! It's worth a try! Fate-"

"Anija, something you continually fail to acknowledge in these little speeches," Tobirama began, rising from his desk and tapping his handful of papers together, "is that I expect nothing and am content for it to remain so. Madara," he raised his own voice when Hashirama began to speak again, "is Madara, and I do not imagine a change in him that would ever encompass him wishing for such a confession from me. I will leave him be, now do me the kindness of following suit!"


Outside Tobirama's office door Madara pressed his back to the wall, eyes wide and thoughts whirling uneasily. That- That was a set of implications he would never have anticipated from- well, not from him, the ghost-demon Senju, reserved and sharp and cool as anything around the Uchiha even now they had peace.

Madara glanced at the papers he had been bringing, tucked them into his sleeve pocket, and leapt out the window before he could be found there. Madara knew himself well enough to give some time to this revelation before allowing himself a reaction anywhere near anyone else.

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Tobirama ground his teeth as he strode right into the Hokage Tower and up to his brother's office, the deep well of fiery chakra there - his actual target - easy for him to pinpoint - as it was from anywhere this half of Fire Country.

"Spar with me!" Tobirama challenged even as he swung the door open, though it came out as almost more of a command. His brother half-rose from the desk, but Tobirama's gaze was fixed on Uchiha Madara.

". . .what?" Madara said, cocking his head slowly as Tobirama's gaze remained locked with his own.

Tobirama gave a sharp smile. "Spar with me." he all but bit out the words. "Perhaps seeing me face you will finally teach your over-bold clansmen something." he added with a low, bitter almost-laugh.

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"So that's why I- Uh. Madara?" Hashirama paused, leaning in a bit and . . . sniffing, even as Madara side-eyed him and leaned away. "Madara you smell like . . . jasmine sencha?"

Madara huffed, crossing his arms, his - slightly damp, Hashirama now realised - hair falling forwards by one side of his face. "I- I ran into your brother this morning." He hunched forwards a bit, scowling his not-really-meant scowl, and Hashirama's brows rose. "Never mind, it's not important! What were you saying about that stupid petition? Focus, idiot!"


"Senju, this is not-" Madara skidded to a stop, face scrunching up as a warm splash dripped down his cheek and into his hair. He licked his lips, blinking slowly - tasting something light and green and tempting - and stared at Senju fucking Tobirama, standing before him holding a scroll with a delicate and ornate wave pattern in one hand and a (now) mostly-empty cup in the other.

Tobirama looked at him for a moment, wide-eyed and still, then twitched, eyes sparkling, and Madara drew a deep breath to shout but before he could speak Tobirama just- Burst into laughter, bright eyes crinkling, silvery hair flicking across his face as he struggled to catch his breath, only half-managing an apology that was hardly convincing as he gestured vaguely towards Madara with the scroll.

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"Oh wake up you overdramatic bastard!" Madara yelled, shaking him - Tobirama thought - rather more than was advisable for a man who had quite so many holes through him.

Not that it mattered, he supposed, glancing at himself - his death couldn't get much more assured at this point from any such carelessness. "It's all right, Mada-" Tobirama choked a bit on blood and remnants of his own suiton mid-assurance. "I'm not sure how you're here, but I . . . protected Konoha, and my students, and they will all be well. I can go knowing-"

"Oh no you don't!" Madara shouted, shaking Tobirama again. It probably should have hurt, but he thought he was probably too far gone for that, too. "If you die I will dig up that ridiculous jutsu of yours to yell at you more!" Madara continued, which . . . really was the kind of promise Madara would keep, damn him, whether figment or spirit or somehow real, so Tobirama struggled to delay his end for a little longer all the same.

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Madara hesitated, torn, gaze lingering on the messenger . . . then he gave hurriedly, biting into his thumb and shaping several quick seals. He brushed a caress to his son's belly as he gave firm instructions, bent to kiss the boy's brow, and then slipped out the window at a dead run, leaving two night-black patches of shadow prowling around the sleeping infant in his nest of pillows.

Sharp, glowing eyes slid over the human child and kept watch, patrolling the room, the house, always circling back to the cradle. Keeping close, the ninneko purred quietly to their young charge to keep his sleep calm until one of his parents could return from their hunt.


Tobirama remained on his feet, he suspected, more by strength of will than anything else by the time one last, exhausted pull at hiraishin brought him home. He was greeted by a low, warning yowl and then a soft mutter, and found glimmering eyes looking up at him from either side of his son's cradle - the house was quiet and empty otherwise, but Jiraiya slept on, flanked by watchful felines.

"Thank you for looking after him." Tobirama said, voice rough, and offered his lover's summons a shallow bow of his head. The cats exchanged a look before settling down once more beside the baby, clearly displaying that they would not yet be moved from their duty.

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"I'm so proud of you, brother!" Hashirama said, wrapping an arm around Tobirama's shoulders and squeezing him into a firm hug. Tobirama cringed just a bit, not so much at the pressure of his brother's affectionate hug on his scraped-raw lovebites as at his brother's sudden proximity to his yet-unbathed body and mouth.

Proud? Tobirama thought with faintly disgusted confusion, eyeing his brother.

"Love is truly the only way to move forwards; not just peace with our once-enemies but taking them into our hearts!" Hashirama said brightly, hugging Tobirama a little bit tighter.

Tobirama gave a weak smile and slid away as one of Hashirama's hands came perilously close to the hidden marks - proto-bruises - on his neck from Madara's fingers. It's not love, he thought, body throbbing with mostly-pleasurable aches and mind filled with the flat, ugly look in Madara's eyes as they parted, still breathless and slick with sweat and come. It never will be and that's not what I want out of him. Bring him into my heart? Impossible. He didn't say it, though, looking at his brother's cheerfully ignorant, willful face.

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"Who would have thought we would end up here?" Izuna remarked, almost dreamily, and Tobirama cracked one eye open to see that he was, indeed, mooning over an entirely unaware Touka, lounging on a low branch nearby as she redid the complex twist of her topknot. Tobirama shook his head slightly as he closed his eye again and leaned more firmly into Madara's belly, purring low in his throat when his lover's fingers obligingly scratched a little deeper into his hair.

"I always knew if only we tried-" Hashirama began, only to be drowned out by a scoff from Madara - one somewhat belied by the gentleness of both his caressing hands and the smile he had been wearing all afternoon.

"You're a fool who would have openly embraced the whole of Fire Country to your breast without us," Madara said, to a little sniff from Mito - not quite approving but rather closer to it than not, "the dream is steady - sustainable - when we spread it the right way, Hashirama." he added with a soft undercurrent of affectionate frustration - something he and Tobirama both dealt with regularly with Hashirama, and had been for many years. "Let hearts sway to it, to us, not just fling our peace wide without thought." he said, fingers rubbing firmly behind one of Tobirama's ears as he stretched lazily in his lover's lap.

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". . .did you just use Sharingan to put our niece to sleep?" Tobirama demanded from the doorway, and Madara twitched, lifting his head and cradling the baby closer. "Madara!"

"Mother used to do it all the time when Izuna wouldn't stop crying." Madara said defensively, taking half a step back as he met his husband's eyes. "It's not as though it was the first thing I jumped to!" he added, rocking her absently in his arms. "I tried everything else first, there's nothing wrong that I can fix and holding her wasn't enough, she just doesn't feel well. Now she can sleep through it, at least some of it, and have pleasant dreams until she wakes." He trailed one fingertip down her button nose, smiling.

Tobirama made a low grumbling sound in his throat as he approached, but he didn't say anything more, only raised a hand, sliding it past Madara's arm to stroke the baby's cheek.

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"Oro? Are you all right out here?" Tobirama asked, moving around the stand of fruit trees on one side and thick vegetation on the other that blocked the small chicken coop from his brother's house.

He came to a stop, blinking. Orochimaru looked up at him from the grass, a dimpled but whole eggshell held between his small hands with one end stuck in his mouth and a further litter of hollowed-out eggs on the grass around him. He swallowed, then pulled the egg free of his lips with a last lap of his tongue over it, squirming a little. "I'm all right, Tobi-sensei. . . Is, eto. . ."

Tobirama knelt and picked up an egg, examining the crunched-inwards little holes, cracks spreading outwards from them. "Hungry?" he asked, and Orochimaru ducked his head.

"I like eggs." Orochimaru said quietly, looking at his toes.

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Madara groaned affirmatively in response to the questioning lilt in Tombirama's voice as he buried his face against his lover's shoulder, trailing biting kisses towards his throat. Tobirama shivered and moaned beneath him, and he lifted his head again, arching his back and rolling his hips, shoving Tobirama down harder beneath him and giving a sloppy smile as he met lust-hazed ruby eyes, hands sliding over his shoulders and hands settling at his hips-

Madara jerked with a sharp hiss, Sharingan whirling as he twisted, lashing out sharply-

"Tobirama!" he yelped, watching his lover's startled eyes go wide an instant before he disappeared, then whirling back to face Tobirama on the bed - wincing up at him, hands still half-clinging to his hips.

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"Demon Ghost Senju!"

Tobirama's head flew up and he found Madara striding towards him, only to hesitate in the doorway. His brows rose as he settled back a little in his chair.

"I . . . wish to give something new a try," Madara paused long enough that Tobirama gave a low, prompting hum, curious and uneasy, then straightened his spine, scowling, and continued, "you and I, I would wish to attempt," he paused again, but only for a breath, "not . . . loathing one another completely?"

Tobirama stared, startled, and Madara fidgeted before him even as he began to smile, cheeks warming with a flush. "I. . . I wouldn't have expected that," he said honestly, then tipped his head, catching Madara's darting eyes before continuing with an almost playful lilt, "but . . . I could entertain the idea."

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"-the hell are you doing- what was that, Tobirama?" Madara demanded, almost staggering sideways until he caught hold of Tobirama's shoulder with one hand and braced the other on the trunk of a tree. "Was that- Did you tweak your hiraishin again?"

"Yes!" Tobirama confirmed as Madara panted, shaking off the disorientation, which had been far worse than usual - though that was bad enough - and catching his breath from the dizzying whirl and immediate shouting. "This is . . . not quite as planned, however. . ." he continued, looking distracted.

"Your 'something new' was a completely untested hiraishin experiment?" Madara demanded, stiffening, and glared as Tobirama confirmed it with nothing closer to an apology than a shrug, then waved him off, wandering a few steps away. "Which you dragged me along in without even a warning?"

"I did say 'something new'," Tobirama murmured, running through a few seals and humming, "you agreed."

Madara flushed. "I agreed to- What is that face for?" he cut himself off, frowning at the furrow between Tobirama's brows and the set of his mouth. It was never a good thing when his lover made that face.

"We are where we should be, but," Tobirama paused, tapping a fingertip against his chin, "it appears in my attempt to hide away the hiraishin seal, in activation it has carried us to the indicated place but . . . not the correct time."

". . .you did what?" Madara asked faintly.

"It's almost spring." Tobirama said, turning to face him with one hand on a sapling that bowed gently under his touch. Madara covered his eyes with one hand and swallowed down a whine. That morning, and, indeed, when he had walked to his lover's private lab, it had been mid-autumn.

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"You're sure about this? And you're ready?" Madara asked just behind his ear, voice a throaty purr. Tobirama shivered as the sound all but thrummed down his spine, but gave a soft affirmative hum, bringing his hands up a little higher to wind his fingers around the thickly woven cords hanging on the wall for the purpose.

Madara brushed a kiss to the nape of his neck, murmuring so low Tobirama felt the words even when he couldn't quite parse them, then sat up, kneeling astride Tobirama's lower back. He drew a breath and let it out, trying to unwind the tension in his muscles and not focus too severely on Madara above him. Madara's fingers trailed over his skin in a feathery caress, then fell away, leaving him shivering.

He let out a sharp, wordless cry as burning heat poured across his shoulders in a narrow curve, silky and cooling fast and making his whole body tingle as he fought not to squirm, gripping the cords tighter and barely feeling the scrape of the weave against his palms. Madara made a low sound that shot straight to Tobirama's core, then poured another curving line across Tobirama's back, startling him into a keening cry even as the wax rapidly began to cool.

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"Jiraiya!" Tobirama snapped, and Madara ducked his head, biting back a burble of laughter. He glanced at Orochimaru, who was being far more polite about dinner; he smiled slightly and licked a smear of yolk off his fingers before returning to watching his brother. "At least try it?" Tobirama said firmly. He gestured pointedly at Orochimaru, then pushed the - now slightly emptier - bowl right back across the table towards Jiraiya. Somehow he seemed to be managing to ignore the slightly damp puffed rice stuck to his face and in his hair. Madara couldn't quite manage it and was having some difficulty suppressing his laughter, particularly as one puff slid down Tobirama's spiky hair and dropped to his cheekbone.

Jiraiya glared at the bowl of puffed rice, vegetables, and spices. "You got him eggs. He loves eggs." He pouted, crossing his arms huffily in a way Madara found entirely too familiar and wasn't entirely sure he was pleased to see like this. . .

"You do not have to like it," Tobirama said patiently, not budging - nor pointing out that Orochimaru's meal also involved new things, "but you do have to try it."

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". . .you can't!" Madara protested, taking a step back, eyes wide.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. "Yet here I am. Anija couldn't stop me. Mito couldn't stop me. Touka couldn't stop me." He paced nearer with every word, though his posture was soft and his mouth only tugged into a slight frown. "Do you think you truly can? When," he reached up, stroking Madara's face as he froze, and his voice gentled, "you don't even truly wish to?"

Madara shuddered, then folded his arms around Tobirama's waist and crushed him close, burying his face in Tobirama's hair.

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The door jumped out of Tobirama's hand, sliding firmly shut but quickly out of his mind in favour of the firm heat suddenly pressed up against him, pinning him to the wall. Before he could open his mouth to speak or decide to attempt freeing himself, Madara's mouth was on his and Tobirama moaned as he sank immediately into it, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from his lungs even as he dragged Madara in closer, enjoying it too much to wonder why . . . until Madara pulled away, eyes sharp and red, nearly glowing like embers as he traced Tobirama's cheekbones with his thumbs.

"I," Tobirama began, slightly breathless and vaguely aware that his fingers were tangled in Madara's long hair, "I have been flirting with you for months, what- what did I finally do?" he asked, only to be silenced almost before he finished speaking with another searing, demanding kiss. He didn't protest, only a faint corner of his mind hanging on to the idea that he should, letting his body arch and his tongue curl around Madara's in welcome.

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"Look it is entirely reasonable to not just barge in, I'm not afraid, your cousin just does all sorts of crazy shit in- Gah!" Izuna stumbled as Touka shoved him unexpectedly, lightly kicking one foot out from beneath him at the same time, and crashed right through the door into Tobirama's lab.

"Fuck, hello, sorry, your crazy cousin's fault," Izuna broke off with a yelp, yanking away from a flask he had half tipped over that was beginning to smoke before continuing, keeping a wary eye on it, "I didn't mean to. . ." He skimmed the room again as the flask began to quiet, frowning slightly. "Tobirama? Are you even in- Fuck!" he jerked back and smacked a hand over his eyes, no longer caring if he crashed into anything.

"Izu?" Madara's voice was startled and breathless and husky and Izuna whined slightly, still seeing entirely too much skin behind his closed lids, all of it marked with red lovebites and redder tattoos and spread out over a wide worktable.

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"I don't- How can- No!" Madara shook his head tightly, tears gathering and making his Sharingan gleam even brighter.

"Madara. . ." Tobirama stroked his cheek again, Madara's hair falling over the back of his hand. "Let Sharingan go." he coaxed, all but crooning the words, petting Madara's face, then down his neck and out over his shoulder. He waited, humming softly and offering a reassuring smile, until Madara's eyes finally faded into their usual shimmering onyx. "Madara, I love you." Tobirama said firmly, eyes locked with Madara's own.

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"Don't see why you had to drag me along." Madara muttered ungraciously as he trailed after his best friend. He glared when Hashirama turned an over-the-top sad expression on him. "It's cold, and I never liked your brother even back when we knew each other! Which was literal years ago! The feeling was mutual!" he added defensively when Hashirama's eyes got bigger and sadder, even though damn it he was used to this shit.

Hashirama latched on to his arm and started to say something else but Madara's attention was suddenly snared by the figure in shimmering wave-blues blurring through a graceful, twirling arch and landing with a spray of glittering ice shards. He was the only one in the rink, but Madara might not have noticed if there were anyone else around, transfixed by his fluid, powerful movements and his well-built body. It took another few moments of staring, unable to drag his eyes off the lean muscle under the shimmering fabric as the man bent and leapt and spun before his gaze finally caught on the brilliant red tattoos and brighter red eyes. Madara realised who he had been staring at so admiringly and choked on his tongue, flushing as he instinctively tried to duck behind Hashirama.

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The delighted shriek woke Madara abruptly and it took him a few moments to reorient to reality - and then tuck himself back under the kakebuton, putting down the kunai he'd palmed on the way up, because the bedroom was freezing - before he frowned and wondered what the hell Kagami was so excited about-

"Shishou! Sensei!" Kagami cried, spilling through their door - Tobirama groaned and flicked his fingers in a simple seal to disarm the trap over the door without sitting up or even rolling over - and giving a semi-apologetic half-bow that made Madara's brows rise, bouncing from foot to foot. "Sorry, shishou! Sensei!" he said, too-quick, flashing a momentarily brighter grin. "You promised to teach me some tricks with the snow when it snowed next! Please?"

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"So frightened? No one willing to come and dance with me?" Madara taunted, whirling easily through another flying barrage barely worth swatting away as he called down another meteor from the sky. Not even a scratch yet, despite all that they kept throwing at him.

A bright flicker caught his eye and he spun towards it, movements suddenly hitching as he not-quite-met ruby eyes - Tobirama had always been talented at staying just shy of meeting Sharingan eyes in battle, but still giving the feeling of locking gazes.

"I've always been willing to," Tobirama paused with a smirk, still approaching with an almost lazy stride, "dance with you, Madara."

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"This is not up for debate!" Tobirama snapped, cold voice cutting across the entire cacophony of the bickering Senju Elders and Hashirama, who had been trying to quiet them. He sent his baby brother an apologetic, pleading look, but Tobirama only narrowed his eyes as he rose, ignoring it and sweeping a sharp, angry look over the room, then stalked out.

Hashirama drew a breath, steadied himself, and turned back to the task at hand, determined to win out on this score - both for the logical reasons Mito and Tobirama had patiently broken down for him, and for the happiness of two of the men he cared for most in the world.


"What did you say about your Clan's wedding tradition?"

Madara startled as Tobirama all but slammed into his house, then froze, eyes widening, as his words sank in.

"You- You want to. . ." Madara edged out from behind the desk and moved towards his - obviously tense and irritated - partner, holding out his hands tentatively. He relaxed, relieved, when Tobirama huffed, eyes glinting angrily, but leaned willingly into his touch. Madara fought not to preen with satisfaction as Tobirama softened a little in his hold, even if his eyes were still bright with irritation.

"I could steal you away from your brother, couldn't I?" Madara said, trying to quash the half-instinctive flutter of delight at the idea, the thought of . . . scooping Tobirama up and spiriting him away, to keep him, forever. "My Clan would consider us wedded," Madara nuzzled his partner's face affectionately, purring when Tobirama kissed him fleetingly, "and you mine."

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Tobirama held on to the thin silver-and-ice chain he had caught the demon by as the creature writhed beneath him, choking, neck straining against the chain before he finally went still with a pathetic keen. Tobirama caught his breath, fingers aching with magic and strain. Ember-bright eyes crazed with jet-black lines like lava rose to meet Tobirama's as the demon slid one weak, ashy-and-bloodied hand upwards over his own chest, which fluttered unsteadily with his breathing.

"All this," the demon said, "to steal my heart, but . . . will you be satisfied only with mine to devour?" he asked, his voice, now that he wasn't shrieking or bellowing, a smooth, smoky rumble that almost distracted Tobirama from his words. "Will I be enough?"

Tobirama stiffened, eyes narrowing, and worried the chain between his fingertips. The demon, panting weakly, didn't try to move, his bright eyes heavy-lidded and slightly glazed. He had fought Tobirama fiercely, even past the point it had been clear he was outmatched - though he might not have been, were Tobirama not so skilled in both hunting and preparing for such battles.

Tobirama sat back on his heels, still kneeling over the demon but not so closely, and tugged back the chain - it still held him down, but not in such a sharp way. "I have no desire for your heart." he said honestly. "My strength is my own, not stolen by such," his lip curled, "bloody devastation." Indeed, while Tobirama had killed demons before - many, even - he had never taken part in the revolting practise himself, and left his opponents dead but whole. And now, he suddenly suspected, there was something . . . different from his usual quarry, with this one.

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"Is- Is he sleeping with a snake?" Izuna yelped, though fortunately very, very quietly, so Tobirama was not forced to strangle him, only give him a dark glare and lean over the baby - still asleep, blessedly.

"A viper." Madara clarified tiredly, not lifting his head from the desk, where Tobirama suspected he was hoping he could hide from the paperwork stacked around him. "It was his mother's favourite summon and she babies him."

Madara hadn't been entirely sanguine when he'd first seen the serpent curling around Orochimaru as he slept, either, Tobirama recalled with mild amusement. He had been cautious himself, but . . . the summon contract had been signed long before they met Orochimaru, and his clan had a long history with the serpents. His mother's summons doted on the boy, and it was no stranger than the Hatake wolves or even the Uchiha felines or birds, in many ways.

"Leave it be." Tobirama said sharply as Izuna drew a breath, flailing a little. He glanced over at the boys; Jiraiya sleeping in an open sprawl on his back as he so often did, careless and comfortable, Orochimaru curled up on his side with his feet tucked in, Jinkei's thick body coiled in and out around his limbs and allowing herself to be hugged close to his thin chest, her broad wedge-shaped head tucked over his neck, nestled against his jugular.

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"Come over here." Madara said coaxingly, voice soft, crooking his fingers. "Properly," he added when Tobirama just gave him a dubious look, "it's cold, love, come closer."

Tobirama cocked his head, but obligingly rose and shifted nearer, allowing Madara to loop an arm around his waist and draw him down and in. He met Madara with a soft nuzzle to the cheek, bowing with the light grip around him. "Are you cold, or are you worried about me?" he teased lightly as he settled close, leaning into Madara's warm side.

Madara hummed wordlessly, returning the nuzzle with a kiss and rubbing his palm up and down Tobirama's side.

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"I told you, I don't know where- What?" Tobirama whirled as someone new stepped into the clearing, and Madara moved to his back, eyes narrowing as he looked them over - unfamiliar, but wearing a Konoha hitai-ate. That was something . . . but Madara recognised most if not all of the Konoha ninja on sight, even if he recalled little more about them.

"Nidaime?" the boy - a Nara, Madara would have been willing to bet - stared with steadily widening eyes, gaze darting between them as he began to shake his head.

"What?" Madara seconded, glaring, resting his fingertips low on Tobirama's back in reassurance . . . however upset he was by yet another unpredictable mess caused by one of his lover's experiments. If he kept away from Tobirama every time he caused some sort of disaster with his work they would never spend time together. And Tobirama probably would have blown himself up by now due to sleep deprived thought impairment or something similar.


Shikamaru heard a strange sound ahead of him, but wasn't terribly bothered by it - Konoha's forests were often full of strange sounds - until he stepped into a clearing and found two strangers there. It only took an instant to realise stranger wasn't the right word, brilliant red eyes meeting his as the Nidaime turned to face him, and then, moving quickly behind the Nidaime and making Shikamaru choke with alarm, Uchiha Madara.

. . .who rested a light hand easily on the Nidaime's back, a touch which he leaned into subtly, even as they both watched Shikamaru with wary, assessing eyes; Shikamaru groaned and covered his face with one hand. He didn't need this mess - whatever the hell it actually was - and he hadn't needed to know that about the Nidaime and the great Uchiha traitor. And now- Shikamaru couldn't help but eye their behaviour and wonder at the history he knew.

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"You," Tobirama paused to yawn, bracing one hip against a support post but not venturing off the engawa himself, "you know that won't actually send off the snow and ice any sooner."

Kagami breathed out another whirling lash of flame, which sputtered and wobbled but flew off over the koi pond, singeing some of the reeds and melting a little of the ice, then turned towards him with a crooked grin. "But it's good practise, right? Even if it won't bring on a January thaw? C'mon, sensei, that one was really good, right?" He fairly vibrated with anticipation, dark eyes wide and fixed on Tobirama, who couldn't quite suppress a smile, despite the early hour and his fatigue.

"Katon is not my specialty." Tobirama reminded, to begin with, though he was skilled enough to know more than a few tricks, and to evaluate Kagami's progress. Kagami knew this, and his grin twisted into a pout, his eyes growing a little bigger beneath his curly fringe under Tobirama's gaze.

"Not bad." Madara called from the house behind him. "Though your control needs a little more follow-through. Don't melt the ice over the koi, it's sheltering them from the cold." he added.

"Yes, shishou!" Kagami cried, back stiffening as he gave a little bow of acknowledgement, then turned away and drew a deep breath, practically puffing himself up. Tobirama hummed fondly, watching him as he began to work up another katon, presumably with more control.

"Good morning, love." Madara murmured, coming up behind Tobirama - and oh, not that Tobirama had been so very cold, but he was deliciously warm - and kissing his cheek, one arm curling around his waist and offering a cup of tea. Tobirama leaned into his chest companionably, humming, and accepted the tea with gratitude.

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"Fuck," Izuna muttered as he slammed the door shut and began to shake his head and shoulders vigorously, throwing off snow, "it's colder than a Senju's heart out there!"

". . .excuse me, what?"

Izuna froze, whirling around and sure that he had not just heard the cool, even voice he- He met his brother's eyes, and Madara, half-smirking, tilted his head down. Indicating the tousled white mess in his lap, now shifting upwards; Izuna dropped his eyes to meet ruby ones as Tobirama began to sit up and flushed. He glanced back at the door to the frozen and dreadfully uncomfortable outside and opened his mouth, then closed it soundlessly and he returned his gaze to the pair by the irori. "I- I didn't. . . It's a saying!" he snapped defensively.

Tobirama arched an eyebrow at him. "Is that so? Not one I'm familiar with." he observed dryly and Izuna huffed, the warmth refusing to fade from his cheeks.

"Well it is, and that's hardly my fault, is it?" Izuna said sharply, and glared a little more as Madara snorted, lips curling even further.

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"I thought you never wanted this peace," Tobirama said, head tipped to one side as he swept an assessing gaze over Izuna, "and yet, you have stood by your brother through the talks and even now."

His voice was even but his implication was obvious even so - and he was far from the only one, Madara included, who had expected Izuna to throw a fit when he realised what Madara was doing with the Demon-Ghost Senju. Izuna, though. . . Some things had changed. And some things he was still curious over.

"I thought you didn't either," Izuna gestured to the hole in his shoulder, wrapped in bandages he knew were already tinged red with his own blood, "but here we are . . . and," he continued grudgingly, "here I am."

Tobirama snorted, lips twisting in what looked like disdain or maybe even pain. "I . . . have always wished for something better for my people," he said softly, ruby eyes all but shimmering and for a moment as he looked aside Izuna could almost see what had drawn his brother's attention, "but someone . . . had to watch out for them when Anija was dreaming and war stealing even our children's lives."

Izuna stilled at the flat, even words. He couldn't help but think of his own brother, arguing with him - and with the Elders, even - to make peace but still willing to drown the world in fire and blood to protect every one of their Clan. He couldn't picture Madara, even with his head in the clouds, dreaming of peace, ever letting that dream risk their people.

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Tobirama sighed and caved to his brother's impassioned wheedling - it was, in fact, this time, a reasonable measure - and extended his hand towards Uchiha Madara, trying not to show how much he did not wish to be doing so.

Madara wasn't so polite, glaring and huffing as he extended his own hand and clasped Tobirama's. It was almost surprisingly a gentle grip, not painful, although as soon as the thought had occurred to Tobirama a stabbing, burning pain shot up from his hand and he gasped, nearly staggering.

Hashirama yelped, darting closer, and Izuna drew his sword, but Tobirama and Madara had stumbled closer together, and they simultaneously raised their eyes from their clasped hands now displaying matched soulmarks to lock gazes. Tobirama was speechless from the force of emotion in the roiling chakra of everyone gathered, particularly Madara's own, which was fiery and powerful and too strong, too muddled, to make out any specific feelings.

"What cruel figure among the kami decided to make you my soulmate?" Madara growled, his lip curling and his eyes - Tobirama was meeting his eyes he realised belatedly, heart kicking into a panicked rhythm - actually shaded with something darker than repulsion, something more like . . . hurt.

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"Oh for fuck's sake, not this nonsense again!" the newly-appeared figure muttered, and oh hell, Sasuke thought, that was Uchiha Madara, gunbai in hand, even if he wasn't wearing his armour, they had brought Uchiha Madara here from another world, he was never letting Naruto experiment with seals again. If they survived this time.

". . .that's not . . . the normal reaction we get." Sakura said tentatively, and Madara turned towards them, skimming his gaze over them - blessedly without activating his Sharingan - and hmphing quietly. "Not after pulling someone from their world through to ours." she added.

"Most people probably aren't used to dimensional hiccups every second Tuesday," Madara said in a dry voice that nevertheless held a smooth rumble, "fuck, if we didn't haul him out of his lab as often as we do, Tobira would probably have broken the thrice-cindered world by now." he added with an exasperated sigh that still sounded oddly . . . fond. And. . . Tobira? Sasuke thought, frowning. Surely he couldn't mean. . .

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Madara growled, head stuck under his own desk. The Tobi-creature bared his teeth and growled right back.

"I don't know what I expected." Madara said absently, settling back on his heels and watching the wary - but not alarmed or fearful - crimson eyes peeking out from beneath the desk. "I wish I knew why here." he added, frowning, as he returned to his chair.

There wasn't much to their fledgling village yet perhaps, and their odd location - far from the reaches of Senju clan territory that had been home - might be preventing Tobirama from returning to an old 'home'. If he were more foolish and less practical, even in this state, it might not have and he may have ventured further, but he had lost none of his iron will, whatever else this strange new Tobirama was lacking.

But what brought him to Madara to create a den? Even with his brother out of the village and thus unavailable, it was not as though there were any love lost between Madara and Tobirama. And yet. . .

A low growl sounded from beneath his desk once more, but soft, almost companionable. A barely-there brush of contact against his legs and silence returned.

A part of Madara's senses had clearly taken their leave of him, because ever since Tobirama had showed up, stubbornly wedging himself into Madara's space, he found himself wondering what it would be like - wishing, almost, that he might - to have Tobirama closer still. In any guise.

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"Madara? What are you doing still in the office so late?"

Madara jerked, startled - wait, Hashirama had been out of the village - and turned towards his office door just as it began to open. Barely an instant later there was a low warning rumble from beneath his desk, and Madara thoughtlessly pressed his knee against Tobirama's side calmingly. The rumble gentled slightly, though it didn't go quiet.

"Hashirama, you're back." Madara said blankly, his chest twisting painfully, but he reminded himself it was good Hashirama had returned. Tobirama would be more comfortable with him, and Hashirama could take care of his little brother. It was as things should-

A sharp snarl erupted as Hashirama actually entered the room and Madara blinked, then hurriedly dropped - not quite thinking properly - to brace his shoulder against Tobirama, holding him back even as he lunged. "Hashirama," Madara began breathlessly, "perhaps you had best," Tobirama nearly made it past him and huffed angrily when Madara caught him again, wriggling his broad shoulders, "get out?"

Tobirama had claimed the space of Madara's office rather thoroughly over the past week and more, and he apparently did not want Hashirama in it.

"Tobi?" Hashirama cried, looking alarmed and distressed, moving closer. "What have you done to Tobi, Madara?"

Madara, struggling to hold back one increasingly furious-sounding Senju, gaped at him in disbelief. "Done? What I've done is put up with him making himself at home in my space, my office, my life!"

He resolutely didn't even think of the moon-pale, wary figure eeling his way somehow through Madara's traps and into his home apparently only out of a desire to add Madara's bed to the list of places he claimed. He refused to think of the contented look in heavy-lidded eyes meeting his own softly as Tobirama nestled into the mass of his hair, one long lock trapped between teeth that seemed sharper than they should - than they ever had before - even as he drifted to sleep with Tobirama sprawled over him in his own bed.

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Madara stepped out of the bathing room, still wringing water from his hair, and passed by the scarlet and silver puddle on his futon. He was no longer really surprised to find Tobirama having worked his way past the wards - somehow, even with little directed skill with his chakra and a very simplified view of the world in his newly limited mind - to make himself at home in Madara's home. In his bed.

Madara hadn't quite worked up the energy to inform Hashirama of where his brother disappeared to at nights (mostly he hadn't worked up the energy to handle Hashirama's reaction to the news) merely making soothing noises - easy enough; Hashirama barely listened anyway - and shrugging it off that surely Tobirama was fine.

"Not sure what trouble he thinks you're going to get into that you can't handle yourself." Madara observed to Tobirama dryly - even as he was, Tobirama was a more than formidable figure, and had lost none of his speed save the ability to use his hiraishin. Tobirama lifted his head and cocked it slightly, revealing-

Madara dropped his hairbrush, barely hearing the clatter it made. "Fucking hell, Tobirama, what did you-" A sleepy sound of protest from the tiny body tucked up beneath Tobirama's neck, sheltered by his broad chest, cut off his screech and Madara approached as Tobirama gave him a disapproving look, the bastard. "Where did you get a baby, nine cinders of hell." Madara muttered almost flatly, eyeing the tousle-headed child Tobirama had tucked so carefully close.

Tobirama made a soft purring sound and bowed his head, nosing one round, chubby cheek. The baby cooed and snuggled closer into Tobirama's chest, tiny fingers curling into his shirt.

This, Madara thought weakly, he was probably going to have to admit to Hashirama.

Chapter Text

Tobirama stiffened, then immediately relaxed into the arms twining around his waist. A gentle stroke of knuckles rubbing up and down his belly made him hum, closing his eyes and leaning back into Madara's arms.

Madara kissed just behind his ear. "Happy birthday, beloved." he said softly, arms twining more tightly around his waist.

Tobirama jumped, tensing again. "But I. . ." He twisted, and Madara allowed it but didn't release him, embrace comfortably snug around his waist. He pressed a kiss to Tobirama's chin. "I spent all day in my lab." he said tentatively.

Madara cocked his head, the long lock framing his face falling aside as he smiled. "It's been weeks since you've had the time to spend on your own projects," he said, smile tilting, "I thought you might enjoy the day best that way. Did you have . . . fun?"

Tobirama smiled, arms sliding around Madara's shoulders as he drew him into a warm kiss.

"I really did." he said softly, nose brushing his lover's, fingers twining into Madara's hair as he leaned close. "Thank you, darling." He paused, tugging Madara's hair gently. "I'm also pleased to spend time with you."

"And tell me all about the terrifying, world-breaking things you played with today?" Madara teased, and Tobirama snorted, lips quirking.

Chapter Text

Madara woke to the not-unfamiliar sound of his best friend shouting, the entirely too familiar feeling of soft growls being nuzzled into his throat, and the completely strange sight of-

"Oh fuck that wasn't a dream!" Madara yelped, bolting upright. The baby fussed, little face screwing up, and Tobirama whined disapprovingly at him. Madara scooped the child up before he'd quite thought it through and Tobirama curled around his back, chin tucking on his shoulder.

"Madara! Why is there a dead Hagoromo on your porch?"

Madara hummed distractedly, eyes on the baby's face as he let her sink down to where Tobirama's arms wrapped around him, then-

"Wait, what?" Madara threw himself out of bed, dodging the baby and leaving her in Tobirama's arms as he scrambled towards his front door.

When he swung it open he found a very dead foreign nin at Hashirama's feet, looking . . . rather the worse for wear but showing no sign of jutsu damage, only raw wounds and battering. "I don't know." Madara said honestly, and glared at Hashirama when all he netted himself for that - the truth! - was a dubious look.

"Madara, I know- Tobi!" Hashirama interrupted himself, then paled. Madara closed his eyes - he didn't need to look to guess what Hashirama was seeing, and wasn't quite sure he was ready to confirm it.

Not that Tobirama appeared to care, as he brushed up against Madara's side affectionately, head dipping to nudge his cheek against Madara's shoulder before pressing the squirming baby into his arms. A squirming baby girl with suspiciously familiar black eyes and, he realised as he ran his fingers through her messy hair - it clung around his fingertips - a familiar look to her.

Madara looked from the very dead body of a man belonging to a clan he had been happy to dissolve his father's alliance with, to the smug look on Tobirama's sharp face, to the suspiciously Uchiha-looking infant he held.

Chapter Text

Madara eyed the little girl - not only Uchiha, he had realised, she had the distinct look of Jun's curly hair and slightly strange - for Uchiha - features around the eyes. Uchiha Jun had been missing for many months, however . . . months since he had been assigned on a mission that had gone badly when the Hagoromo got involved.

"How involved, little one?" Madara asked the baby, thinking also of Jun's only known child, Uchiha Kagami.

The little girl bounced on Tobirama's back, sitting in the shallow curve made above his hips, and that was another thing Madara would not have expected, Tobirama getting involved in this and . . . bringing it to him - nor that he should care so much for the strange version of Tobirama that had simply moved into his life, somehow. He muttered darkly to himself, shaking his head.

Tobirama shifted, the long, lean lines of his back flexing, and Madara snatched at the girl just an instant too slow-

Tobirama laughed, face light and happy as Madara had never seen it before the day a hissing, growling Senju took up the space under his desk, as the girl bounced on his chest, giggling. Long fingers more generally suited - Madara would have thought - to forming seals and cradling blades formed a light cage around her, helping her wobble her way up to her feet, though she couldn't yet support herself.

Madara licked his lips and found himself smiling at the sight. He couldn't quite make himself stop.

"And why don't you think I would get involved?" Tobirama asked suddenly, tickling the baby's sides and making her wriggle and shriek happily as she plopped down once more. Tobirama sat up, cradling her in his lap, and turned his gaze on Madara. "Because she's an Uchiha? You are part of this new village. All of you."

The sharp words were rather less vicious than Madara would have expected. He glanced at the girl and shook his head slightly. She was starting to stare up at Tobirama's face and the bright markings there, reaching for them with open, grabby hands. Tobirama dipped his head and let her reach, smiling softly when her fingers patted across his cheeks, pinching a little roughly and distorting his expression.

"Ah, well, but-" Madara sputtered, tongue tangling as he watched the unfairly adorable and entirely unexpected sight, and Tobirama slanted a look at him.

Chapter Text

"Well no wonder we never saw them in any battles!" Izuna said with a snort, stretching out his legs and propping up his feet. Madara hummed promptingly. "Senju! And his tiny little helpless summons! No wonder I never saw them before we made peace, he'd have wanted to keep them away and safe-" he broke off and eyed Ryuji, who had just sneezed, suspiciously.

"I doubt that's why." Madara said, frowning. Many summons simply weren't best suited to head-on battle.

"They're so tiny and cute! Harmless! Like kittens!" Izuna said, then laughed. "Little surprised ice-Senju actually contracted with something that looks so harmless."

"They're not. . ." Aoi murmured with a little snicker as Madara cradled her closer, tipping her head to butt along his wrist. He thought of Tobirama cradling a tiny feline in one hand this afternoon, expression focused on the outspread map even as they rubbed affectionately.

"But he treats them like kittens!" Izuna said, frowning. "You saw them today!"

Madara raised his eyebrows, turning Aoi over onto her back, where she snuggled into the crook of his arm cosily, head tipping up to let his fingertips burrow into the fluff on her throat. A little flash of her pink tongue showed briefly as she resettled.

"That's because you're weird!" Izuna said defensively, gesturing at them. "They claw anyone else who even tries to pet them!"

"Mmmr, of course." Ryuji agreed lazily, draping himself along Madara's shin and eyeing Izuna like he was a particularly dull insect, not worth batting at.

Madara winced a little as Aoi's claws sank into his arm affectionately, holding his hand close, but didn't do anything save continue rubbing her throat with his fingertips. "Don't be stupid enough to think even the most coddled cat is harmless, Izu. The ninneko will disown you by proxy." he said dryly, to an approving purr from Aoi. Not that they technically could do anything of the sort other than declare their disgust with Izuna - which they had done many times since Madara had contracted with them when Izuna was tiny - but truly, Izuna should know better.

"Fine, fine," Izuna reached out tentatively and got a sharp feline sniff in response, overture rejected, "but they're so tiny and fluffy and soft, they can hardly be that tough. Just look at them!"

"You'll see. . ." Ryuji murmured, almost too soft to be heard, his eyes glinting.

Chapter Text

Madara came awake with a start but didn't lunge upwards - he'd already taken in the glint of what little light there was on fluffy white hair in that first instant, and this had somehow become his new normal. Senju Tobirama, terror of Fire Country, eeling into his house and slinking into his bed - not shyly, not slinking because he was hesitant at all, no, he simply claimed Madara's bed like it was his own.

Madara sighed, meeting eyes that looked almost Uchiha dark in the night, tracing washed-out red slashes on a moon-pale face with his gaze, then draped his arm over his eyes and let Tobirama do as he would. He tensed slightly as a gentle weight eased over him and shifted his arm up to look just as Tobirama stretched and settled across his body. Tobirama lifted his head and met Madara's eyes with a low purr, snuggling pointedly down harder on top of him.

"Fine." Madara huffed, his voice low. It didn't sound as irritated as he might have been trying for. "Stay there."

Tobirama smirked, eyes glinting, and his pointy chin dug into Madara's ribs uncomfortably for a moment. Then he tilted his head with a sigh, Madara dropped his arm back over his eyes, and Tobirama went limp over him, warm and heavy. But not uncomfortable, really, for all its strangeness. Madara sighed again, shifting minutely and quickly going still again as Tobirama gave a tiny whine, fidgeting in response.

"Fine." Madara said again, as Tobirama rumbled contentedly, thrumming through both their chests.

Chapter Text

Madara took a while to inch upwards to consciousness, yawning and muttering darkly at the passage of time and tugging with sleep-clumsy hands at his hair where it had curled around his throat in the night. Unless there was an emergency or some form of jolt at least he had long been aware that he didn't wake up particularly well or quickly. He didn't much care. He finally stretched, feeling lazily warm and comfortable, yawned wide enough his jaw protested faintly, and pushed his hands through his hair . . . then made at last to sit up.

He froze, hands still atop his head, and cocked his head to look past his own bicep. Tobirama's eyes were fierce and narrow, but that snarl had been a hiccuppy, broken thing interrupted by a sleepy hmph. He met Madara's eyes, fingers curling and short nails digging into Madara's chest even through his shirt, and stretched, settling his head down and inching a little higher to rest it just below Madara's collarbone. Tobirama sighed, shoulders wriggling, and Madara automatically put a hand between the angular protrusions of his shoulder blades.

Tobirama froze and Madara swallowed, thinking of how very close Tobirama's snarling white teeth were to his throat.

Tobirama gave a long, low prr and sprawled further over Madara, shifting his head lazily a few times. Madara thought if he'd chosen to stay a little lower, keeping his head away from Madara's collarbone, it would probably have been more comfortable, but if he was determined to rest his angular face right on top of the bone Madara supposed that was his own problem and he could stay there.

Wait, no, Madara needed to get up. It was morning and he had responsibilities to attend to. He shook his head, fingers curling where they rested on Tobirama's back, and shook him gently, prodding. Tobirama gave a plaintive-sounding yowl and tilted his head, eyes only half-open as they met Madara's. Madara stilled slowly, not really able to keep pushing faced with that expression. Tobirama smiled softly, eyes warm before they fluttered shut once more, then slowly opened to meet his gaze again.

Madara sighed, tilting his head back on the pillows and realising that he had absently begun rubbing Tobirama's spine between his shoulder blades. Tobirama didn't seem to mind the petting, rapidly growing heavier still as he fell asleep once more. Madara yawned, back of his wrist to his mouth, and found himself drifting off again as well, lulled by the warmth and the occasional contented rumble of Tobirama draped over him.

Chapter Text

"Tobi! There you are!" Hashirama cried, making Madara jump - Tobirama only tensed slightly, eyes rolling as he looked towards Madara. Hashirama closed his arms around his brother, drawing him in close and hugging him so tightly Madara swore he could see Tobirama's ribs compressing under the embrace. He winced a bit in sympathy - he'd been the object of such hugs himself, too.

Hashirama rubbed Tobirama's back, his brother's face squashed into his shoulder, and Tobirama sighed, resettling his head several times, fidgeting as Hashirama continued talking to him. Pointlessly, since as Madara had found out quite well himself, Tobirama seemed to have not a jot of comprehension of speech any longer. He might still be smart, but words were beyond him at the moment.

His shoulders arched and he huffed, a low, unhappy rumble building in his throat. Hashirama made a delighted, wordless sound, then yelped as Tobirama suddenly straightened fully, shoulders thrown back, and slammed one curled hand into Hashirama's ribs. Tobirama didn't pause, arching and squirming and planting one hand across Hashirama's face when he didn't move back, dragging several red lines down his face from his temple with short nails as they both twisted and shifted against each other.

Then Tobirama was free, shaking himself and leaping lightly up onto the padded bench by the wall, walking the edge of it where the padding was thinnest and settling in the windowframe. He wriggled his shoulders, hissed flatly, and tucked his long legs up before him, glaring at Hashirama. Madara blinked, looking between them.

Hashirama slumped into his chair behind his great desk and propped an elbow on it. He didn't look particularly- "I wish he'd hold still for more cuddles." he said mournfully. "Tobi hasn't been snuggly since he was little, I thought maybe like this at least. . ."

Madara frowned, thinking of how very late he had been because Tobirama, heavy and lax with sleep, refused to give up being close, on more than one morning, after Tobirama had spent the entire night stretched out on top of him, then cringed, distracted by Hashirama's attitude towards the problem with his little brother. Tobirama's mind was . . . if not gone then at least bound, damaged, something, and Hashirama sounded as though his hopes had been for a more tractable pet out of the experience.

Chapter Text

Madara managed to strangle the impulse to shout at his best friend, but he excused himself shortly after that- that reprehensible comment, unsure he could listen to Hashirama any more right now. And . . . every time he glanced at Tobirama, a neatly-contained, lounging figure in the window, his temper began to rise again. It was best he not stay around the Senju brothers for the moment, he thought, wincing as he stepped out into the corridor.

. . .but how could Hashirama think so- so callously about his baby brother? If Izuna had been affected this way, his mind stolen, Madara would have been-

Madara stilled in the middle of the corridor, mid-stride, then frowned. Well, if Hashirama was disinclined to see about things, when it should have been his place. . . Madara huffed, thinking of interrupted days - and nights - putting up with Tobirama's insistent demands for space near him. Who could say it wasn't his place either? He would just-

He didn't have any idea how to handle this. If he had he would have done something already - even before, even at the very first when he'd thought it was a little funny, because even the cool bastard didn't deserve to have his mind folded away and . . . lessened like this.

. . .Mito, Madara thought, with a faint cringe. Tobirama's chakra was fine - Madara could sense it and had certainly had plenty of opportunity to do so from quite close recently - which meant it had to be something more complex. Tobirama was incapable of figuring it out at the moment, and the only person who might be able and trustworthy . . . Mito. Madara groaned, ignoring the two people in the hallway who scurried on hurriedly, eyeing him.

Now he just had to go dog the witch in her lair and explain why he was asking - why he was the one asking.

. . .and get Tobirama there to her, somehow, to be examined.

Chapter Text

“Mm, come here, my darling.” Tobirama beckoned, and Madara came, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Tobirama hmmed half-chidingly and guided his lover to kneel before him on the futon, murmuring soft praise as he complied without protest. Madara let out a faintly shaky breath, still tense.

Tobirama nudged close against his back, hands lingering at his waist just above his hips, thumbs rubbing gently. “Let them go.” he coaxed, and Madara shuddered, then- he did.

Battered wings Madara was forever spreading wide - not in posturing fits of temper, despite how Tobirama knew he was often seen, but in a protective mantle - eased gingerly away from his back, sagging under their own weight. Tobirama kissed the top of Madara’s spine, his own wings prickling. He resettled them with a brief flick and sat back just a little; enough to let him reach properly.

Though it was hardly the first time, Madara trembled under his touch as he began to preen his lover’s half-neglected wings. With insistent nudges of his fingertips and extended strokes with the full length of his fingers, Tobirama focused on the task wholly, muttering as he did. Madara relaxed slowly as he worked, and his battered wings began to fall into order beneath Tobirama’s hands, the stark feathers beginning to shine with their natural oils, their faint patterns visible once more.

Tobirama hummed in the back of his throat, a low, pleased sound. Madara’s wings twitched, then half-spread, and he leaned tentatively back into Tobirama. He wrapped his arms around his lover in welcome, finding a place to nestle his chin by Madara’s neck.

Madara’s wings brushed his sides and shoulders, then settled where they should, his shoulders now unbowed, and Tobirama hummed with prideful pleasure to see his lover looking so fine and properly cared for. As he should. As people should see him.

Tobirama swept his own wings forwards, wrapping them around Madara with hardly a thought to his actions. Madara chuckled, after a twitch of surprise, and Tobirama hummed again, nudging his chin a little closer over the front of his lover’s shoulder.

Madara wasn’t the only one who could be overprotective.

Chapter Text

“Look, Aniki,” Izuna broke into Madara’s growling rant, rolling onto his back and tipping his head over the arm of the couch to eye his brother, “I know he’s an alpha and you don’t like him, but-”

“That’s not why!” Madara snapped, his growling getting louder. Izuna just watched him. Madara’s snippiness had never troubled him. “Hashirama is an alpha and he doesn’t bother me at all.” Madara huffed, stalking over and flopping into the chair near Izuna’s head. He reached out and ruffled Izuna’s hair affectionately, and Izuna purred softly, nudging into it, smiling as his brother’s expression softened. “Well. He’s an idiot, but his being an alpha doesn’t bother me.” Madara amended wryly.

Izuna giggled, squirming a little to get comfier. “I suppose that’s fair.” He shook his head. Hashirama made him uncomfortable sometimes - just because he was so powerful and he hardly seemed to notice as he spilled . . . everywhere. His aura, his power, his scent. . . It put Izuna on edge, though he was more than used to aggressive alphas anyway. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“What is it that bothers you so much about Tobirama, then?” Izuna asked curiously. He had been prepared to hate his old rival - keep hating him, really - but had instead found Tobirama becoming one of his favourite new people once they settled here. He was almost alarmingly controlled, to an Uchiha perspective, but he was perceptive and quick and helpful, if demanding on the occasions Izuna had worked with him.

Madara shifted, ducking his chin a little, fingers rubbing along Izuna’s temple and behind his ear. Izuna’s eyes narrowed and he shifted a little, then rolled over, propping his forearms on the arm of the couch and leaning forwards.

“. . .oh kami.” Izuna breathed, inching further over the arm towards his brother. “That’s why. You-”

“Izu.” Madara said softly, meeting his eyes and cutting him off.

Izuna raised an eyebrow. “If you want him, try courting him.” he said, ignoring his brother’s faint whine of distress. “Seriously, Aniki, he-” Izuna’s lips twitched. “I’ve seen people try. He’ll be nice, I promise.” he finished over the sound of Madara’s low growl. Whatever his response, he would, Izuna had seen it.

“He’s- I don’t think he’d want me to court him.” Madara gestured vaguely, and Izuna snorted, reaching out to snag his brother’s hand and nudging his cheek against it absently.

“Aniki. If there is anyone in this village who doesn’t give a fuck for taboos like that,” Izuna snorted derisively, “it would be Tobirama. If you- Look, just . . . try.” he encouraged gently, thinking faintly that a year ago he would have been horrified at the very idea of what he was now doing. “Courting could give you both time to know each other better, see if you really like him . . . let him see you properly. . .” he coaxed.

Madara sank lower in his chair, but there was a hopeful spark in his eyes when he met Izuna’s again. Izuna smiled encouragingly.

Chapter Text

“May- May I speak with you?” Madara said, bracing himself as Mito swept him a cool, distant gaze over him. “My apologies for disturbing you,” he added, bowing his head slightly, “it’s . . . important.”

Mito tilted her head, then stepped back with a sweep of her hand towards the interior of the house. “Certainly. Come in, Madara-san.”

Madara swallowed and bowed shallowly again before he entered, trailing Mito to a place by the irori. He accepted politely when Mito offered tea, swinging a kettle over the low fire. Then Mito fixed him with a curious look, perfectly silent. Madara met her gaze, reordering his thoughts, though he had spent the entire walk here - which he had walked, slowly, like a civilian - contemplating Tobirama’s behaviour and how to frame his . . . request to Mito.

“A few weeks ago Tobirama . . . started acting strangely.” Madara began carefully, eyes on hers. “I don’t know how much Hashirama has told you or what you may have seen,” he continued, tilting his head for a moment, “so excuse me if I repeat information.”

Mito’s expression barely shifted as he spoke, and she didn’t interrupt, but she grew slightly paler, and while she poured the water to make tea neatly, the wood of the irori cracked when she put the iron kettle down. “I-” she stopped, drawing a very deep breath and then letting it out slowly. The long paper seals in her hair flickered, and there was a faint jingle from her kanzashi. Madara fought not to draw away from her. “This has been going on for weeks?” she all but hissed, eyes narrowing.

Madara tensed, resisting the urge to curl his fingers towards the beginnings of hand seals.

“You are not-” Mito broke off, her eyes widening again, and then opened her mouth only to close it silently, expression shifting. Madara frowned, confused and uneasy. It was unlike Mito to be so-

Then he jumped and nearly did set something in Hashirama’s house on fire as Tobirama suddenly appeared at his side, butting against his side with a sigh and hooking his chin over Madara’s shoulder. He rumbled, throat thrumming against Madara’s shoulder, and leaned heavily on Madara, eyeing Mito from halfway behind him.

“Oh.” Madara said thinly. He gestured helplessly. Tobirama made another little rumbling sound and moved around him with a graceful shift, though he still chose to lounge against Madara's shoulder and watch Mito with a mildly suspicious expression.

Chapter Text

Madara jumped at the sudden presence returning to the main room, his thoughts having wandered off with him shortly after Mito excused herself and coaxed Tobirama off to ‘examine’ him. His eyes widened as he looked up at Mito, who looked . . . well, at the least, less put-together than he had ever seen her . . . save for the day she sealed the Kyuubi into herself.

“Ah. . . Mito-san?” Madara said tentatively.

“Yes, everything is fine.” Mito assured him, reaching up and pushing one loose curl of her long hair back into place. It disappeared smoothly into the sleek sweep up to her bun under her fingers. “Rather,” she paused, “playful, isn’t he?”

Madara blinked, taking a breath and then electing not to speak.

“While there is more I would like to ascertain, I believe the process may . . . go more smoothly if we remain in here. All three of us.” Mito added with a faint smile. “Would you care for more tea? Or perhaps something to eat?”

“I- More tea, thank you.” Madara accepted, and watched as Tobirama finally stalked out of the room he and Mito had been shut away in, his red eyes sharp and curious. The set of his shoulders was relaxed and easy, but he kept one eye on Mito even as he wandered with apparent aimlessness about the room.

Mito let him do as he wanted without so much as a worried glance, and headed off to the kitchen. Madara watched him, but Tobirama only glanced at him from time to time with a faintly pleased look.

Mito returned with a small tray bearing a few varieties of almost delicate-looking onigiri, setting it on the rim of the irori. Then she settled the kettle back over the fire.

Tobirama wandered back over as Mito handed Madara a fresh cup of tea, and she made him a cup as well as he settled at Madara’s side, leaning heavily into him with a low purr. “He seems quite fond of you.” Mito said a little dryly, and Madara looked back up at her to see she was not quite smiling. “Whatever have you done to earn such affection?”

“Nothing!” Madara flushed a bit at the near-squawk of his own voice, and took a sip of tea. He lowered his cup and cleared his throat, grabbing one of the onigiri. “He just- He started out in my office, and he’d hide under the desk, and then he started . . . showing up, as I told you. Everywhere. I was hardly going to just- just throw him out. He can do as he likes, as long as he’s being . . . calm.”

“Mm.” Mito said, something unreadable in her twinkling eyes, and Madara took a slightly too large bite of onigiri. The centre was filled with some kind of . . . not fish, but seafood of some variety, and he fought not to cough, surprised by the taste. Tobirama made a sound against his shoulder that he would have sworn was a laugh if Tobirama hadn’t been so . . . not human in behaviour at the moment - and himself to boot; Tobirama wouldn’t have cracked a smile or voiced a laugh over such a thing even if he were in his right mind - and reached out for one himself, as Mito smiled.

Chapter Text

When Madara finally left, assured that Mito was now both aware of and working on the problem, Tobirama was still curled lazily in the cushions near the irori. He had refused to budge - not that either he or Mito had tried very hard to encourage him to do so. Madara did wonder, however, as he headed slowly for home, if Tobirama would still be there when Hashirama returned home from the Hokage Tower.

The thought made him want to turn around and go back himself, though he told himself he was being foolish. Tobirama, as he had proven earlier, was well capable of looking after himself with his brother - and, Madara thought with a quiet snicker, Mito . . . seemed less than pleased with her husband, and incredibly upset over Tobirama’s mental state.

Someone ought to be, Madara thought, mood souring again immediately. He still could hardly believe the way that Hashirama had reacted to his brother in such a state. He had known that Hashirama could be- But-

Madara growled and shook his head, bounding up into the branches of one of the ubiquitous trees and beginning to run, focusing on the smooth pull and release of muscles, the movement of the branches around him as he headed home at speed. Mito was looking into the problem now, and had already been wearing that thoughtful finding a puzzle key sort of look as she had begun murmuring half-nonsense - at least it was to Madara, and Tobirama certainly couldn’t understand her at the moment.

He had to believe that Mito would figure it out, and put Tobirama back to rights. And after that. . .

Well, Tobirama would get his self back, that was the important thing. And Madara would get his space back, no longer have Tobirama shoving into his office and taking over the space beneath his desk or at the window, no longer be startled out of sleep or delayed to his work by a sleepy, demanding Tobirama inexplicably bulling into his home and his life.

Madara huffed, dropping from the trees onto a rooftop without cutting his speed, and put the whole mess out of his mind as he abruptly shifted direction, heading for one of the training grounds rather than home. He needed a distraction and he needed to burn off a little more energy. And temper, because every time he thought of his best friend he thought longingly of planting a fist in his face and informing him how terrible a brother he was being.

Chapter Text

“Hello, Madara.” Tobirama said absently, feeling the controlled blaze of Madara’s chakra slip into his office. The door clicked closed and the seals Tobirama and Mito had laid into the frame lit up with sparking chakra as the door completed them once more, silencing the room from the outside.

Tobirama looked up, concerned, when Madara had failed to speak for several minutes. He stood by the window, looking out at the village . . . although he didn’t actually seem to be paying the view any mind.

“. . .Madara?” Tobirama lay down his brush and pushed back a bit from his desk.

Madara turned to face him, leaning back against the windowsill, arms crossed. “Did you know they’re betting on us?” he asked, fixing Tobirama with a look.

Tobirama blinked. “Betting? Who? What?” he asked, baffled.

Madara snorted, his shoulders shifting as he let his hands fall to brace beside his hips. “I wondered the same thing. Apparently most of everyone else in the Tower . . . including your brother-”

“Of course.” Tobirama grumbled, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment, pained.

“They’re betting on when you and I will have a blow-up fight and destroy something in the offices.” Madara said dryly, and Tobirama blinked, looking up at him again.

“. . .I’m sorry they what?” Tobirama asked, and Madara tipped his head back, laughing.

Tobirama gave him a moment, then threw one of his brushes - the dry one, because he was feeling kind, and also didn’t want ink splatters in his office - at Madara. He caught it, still chuckling, and rolled it over and between his fingers fluidly, paying little attention. Tobirama took a moment to appreciate the absent display of dexterity, then met Madara’s eyes squarely once more.

“They think we’re liable to just haul off and start trying to murder each other in the middle of paperwork one of these days, evidently,” Madara said lightly, “there are bets on when, who starts it - mostly favouring me,” he added with a huff, “how much damage we’ll do, who will win. . .”

“We haven’t been-”

“Apparently we’re better at hiding than we thought.” Madara said, snickering as he pushed away from the window and stalked towards Tobirama. He tossed the brush back onto his desk and stopped just shy of his legs. “So the question is. . .” He leaned close. “What do we want to do to fuck with them?”

Tobirama grinned, reaching up and sliding a hand past Madara’s jaw into his hair. “Mm. . . We’d best make a plan. Make sure we get the most out of it.” he replied playfully, tugging Madara closer still.

“After work?” Madara asked almost against his mouth. “Over dinner?”

“I’ll pick up inarizushi on the way.” Tobirama offered, tipping his head up to kiss his lover softly. “See you then.”

Madara stole another kiss, fingers tracing Tobirama’s jaw, then rose and strode out of his office.

Chapter Text

“Tadaima!” Hashirama’s voice echoed through the house from the front door, and Mito rose abruptly, stiffening. “Hello, my darli- Erm. Mito? Darling?”

Mito met his suddenly befuddled eyes with fire rising in her chest. The Kyuubi stirred in his sleep, deep inside her, and Mito resisted the urge to let her lips curl back to expose her teeth.

“Hello anata.” Mito said with a razor smile, folding her arms delicately before her. Hashirama smiled uncertainly. “Do you know who came by for tea today?” she asked him softly, thinking for a moment of the relaxed figure of Tobirama half-dozing in her cushions near the irori.

“Ah. . . No, my darling. Who?” Hashirama asked, smiling a little more.

It faltered when Mito didn’t so much as blink. “Madara. He had some . . . news for me. Though imagine his surprise,” she said, watching Hashirama’s confused yet hopeful look shade darker with wariness, “when he discovered I did not even know my poor brother-in-law, one of my dearest friends here at such remove from my Clan, had been injured.”

“Injured? Mito,” Hashirama grinned, looking relieved, the foolish man, “Tobi’s fine, I saw him only-”

“I,” Mito interrupted sharply, “would consider it a great injury to have my mind and reason stolen! As would Tobirama, I am most certain, as you should know.”

Hashirama blinked, gaping a little at her.

“Perhaps almost worse,” Mito continued, and Hashirama actually took a step back, “that his own dear brother appears to think this a merry game, dismissing the injury and his very self as unimportant. Would you be so cruel, anata, were it me?” she added silkily.

“I- Mito, my darling,” Hashirama shook his head slightly, reaching one hand towards her; Mito’s eyes flicked to it, narrowing in a glare, and he recoiled, “Tobi will be fine - he always is, when he gets himself into these,” he gestured expansively as Mito stared, “little messes of his. No need to worry!”

“No need to worry?” Mito bit out every syllable. The Kyuubi’s chakra surged helpfully and she battered it back down without flinching. “Tobirama fixes those,” her lip curled, “messes of his with lots of hard work and experience, and sometimes with help; you’ll note currently he has had his reason stolen, along with his ability to use his experience or indeed anything! And until today has anyone at all been helping him?”

Other than Madara, Mito thought after a moment, taking a breath and calming a touch, even if all he could offer was a calm place to be. Clearly Tobirama had wanted that; she’d watched him all but climbing into Madara’s lap this afternoon.

Tobirama could use a calm place to just be even when he was himself, Mito thought privately . . . though personally she wouldn’t have thought of Madara to provide that.

I will see to it that Tobirama is returned to himself,” Mito said crisply as it became clear Hashirama had nothing more to offer than more useless, infuriating platitudes; she already had some ideas of how to help her friend, “I suggest you take some time to think on your treatment of your brother.”

Hashirama took a few small steps closer and Mito unfolded her arms, taking a deep breath. Hashirama flinched back. “I will not be assisting you with that evidently much-needed self-examination, anata.” she snapped. “And at the moment I do not wish to be disturbed, as I have an important and concerning problem to address. Excuse me.”

Mito turned and swept past him, keeping her distance, to shut herself in her workroom. Her stomach was in knots. How could he be so callous - Mito knew her husband could be thoughtless, but she also knew him as a sweet and affectionate man, when not distracted. That he neglected his brother she had known, but that he could be so dismissive. . .

Mito rested her back against her workroom door and covered her stinging eyes with one hand. The Kyuubi stirred again and she didn’t force him down this time, taking a few shuddering breaths. The front door closed quietly and she forced out a quick, sharp huff of air, trembling, and wished fiercely for Hashirama to truly think and improve.

Then she tamped down her anger, her upset, and her sickening feelings of guilt and betrayal, sharpening her focus on the problem at hand. Tobirama was far more important, at the moment.

Chapter Text

Madara’s breath caught as he moved closer, tentative but feeling oddly . . . sure, despite that. He reached out and Tobirama smiled, eyes soft, and leaned into him, lips cool and firm against Madara’s.

He sank into the kiss, Daikazan a steadying pressure against his calves. Tobirama moaned against his mouth, pressing full length into him and sliding one hand over Madara’s stomach and side to his back. Madara purred at the touch, his own hands roaming up and over Tobirama’s shoulders, fingers burrowing into the fur he wore there.

A strange heat flared through him from his fingertips and Tobirama gasped, breaking away from his mouth and nearly collapsing, eyes glazed. Madara lunged to catch him around the waist, panic lashing through him. Daikazan let out a low, grating moan of worry.

“Tobirama! Are you- What-” Madara flushed, nudging Tobirama back to his feet and steadying him, watching worriedly.

“I’m . . . fine.” Tobirama said in a disconnected tone that was the exact opposite of reassuring. “It was only. . . I didn’t expect. . .”

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t think you wanted- I- Sorry.” Madara said, flushing, feeling dreadful.

“What?” Tobirama said, lashes fluttering. “No, not . . . that.”

Madara whined, confused and still worried and- and ashamed of himself.

Tobirama reached up with one hand, the other settling on Madara’s hip as though steadying himself further, and reached into the ruff around his shoulders. It- It moved.

A tiny, spotted feline face peeked out, followed by the stretching of tiny paws. Madara stared. “Your- Your daemon.” He flushed harder. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea-”

“It’s all right.” Tobirama and the little cat said at once. “You had no way of knowing she was hiding there.” he added, smoothing his fingers over her neck.

“Wow. You’re not even a mouthful.” Daikazan said with the stunning lack of tact Madara had been fighting in himself all his life. “But hey, at least you exist. Everyone thinks your human is some kind of monster without a soul.”

Madara hid his face in his hands. “Daikazan. . .”

Try me, clumsy.” the little cat hissed.

Tobirama caught Madara’s hands and drew them away from his face. “I am aware what people think of me. Us.” he said, cocking his head. The cat leaned against his neck and rubbed herself against his ear. “Did you- You didn’t know about Chimiken?” he asked quietly.

Madara fidgeted. “I didn’t.” he admitted. “I just-” He raised his eyes to meet Tobirama’s. “I . . . really care for you, not knowing about her. . . It didn’t change anything.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened, then softened, and Chimiken purred. “Come here.” Tobirama asked gently, tugging at Madara and bringing him close once more, rubbing their noses together. “I really care for you too, Madara.” he said, voice barely audible. “I am sorry I didn’t introduce you to Chimiken. I should have.”

Then he kissed Madara again, pressing against him, arms slipping around his waist to hold him tight as Tobirama pushed a little more, the kiss growing heated.

Chapter Text

Izuna burst out into the clearing with his hands brought up in a seal and-

He lowered them. “I guess I didn’t need to rush back.” he said, a little nonplussed, taking in the scattered dead enemy nin. He froze, eyes widening.

“I suppose you did not.” Tobirama observed dryly, underscored by a rasp of fabric over metal, probably cleaning his bloodied sword.

Izuna couldn’t drag his eyes off the pair of tiny kittenish cats sitting atop one enemy nin’s half-crushed chest. One of them was washing blood from its face, and the other was clawing out bits of the man’s heart and eating them.

Gah, eugh.” Izuna managed, feeling a little sick.

A warm press slid around his calves. “Told you so.

Izuna yelped and tried to dart away from the slight pressure which- turned out to be Aoi, snickering at him delicately. She sauntered off, shaking herself and flinging off a few droplets of blood, and leapt smoothly into Madara’s arms a few steps further away.

Izuna stomped over to his brother, making a wide berth around the tiny monsters, shuddering as Tobirama scooped one of them up, petting its back as it washed its blood-soaked face.

“Izuna, glad you’re all right. All of yours dealt with?” Madara asked peaceably.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Izuna grabbed his brother’s sleeve and yanked. “Why didn’t you tell me they,” he nodded at Aoi, who purred smugly and rubbed her head against Madara’s chest as though he weren’t wearing armour, “were spying on me?”

Madara blinked, scritching Aoi beneath the chin. “They’re cats.” he said blankly. “Izuna, just assume they always are.” He shrugged, and Izuna gaped.

“Especially if they suspect you may do something amusingly idiotic.” Tobirama commented dryly, and Izuna whirled to glare at him. He couldn’t quite keep his eyes on Tobirama’s face, however, with the tiny not-kitten cuddled up against his neck.

Madara, the traitor, just laughed, and when Izuna looked at him, had his flirting smile on and a warm look in his eyes. Izuna tugged viciously at his sleeve and prodded his ribs.

“Honestly, Izuna,” Madara said, attention shifting slowly back to him, “I’ve had them most of your life; you don’t pay attention to them?”

“This is why we contracted with you,” Aoi said, stretching and then hauling herself up to Madara’s shoulder, “and refused you,” she sauntered around the back of Madara’s neck, a little too big to fit up there, to perch on his other shoulder, “Madara understands cats properly.”

Izuna resisted the impulse to make a rude gesture at her, because she’d probably do something horrible to him in the night, and then saw Tobirama giving his brother a speculative look, coddling one of his little monster-kittens in one hand.

Izuna gave up. He was done. “I’m going back to the village.” he announced, fairly certain neither Madara nor Tobirama was paying him any attention, each eyeing the other while ostensibly focusing on their feline summons.

Chapter Text

Tobirama paused as he heard the unexpected plinking, vibrating sound of music emanating from the house ahead of him. He tilted his head to one side.

He continued after a moment, putting effort into keeping his steps silent this time, even as he made his way up the stairs to the door. He hesitated, then restrained himself with a shallow sigh and simply knocked.

The music kept playing for a few moments, then ceased with a slightly wavery, thin sound. Tobirama frowned reflexively. It had been pretty.

The door swung open and Tobirama nodded in greeting to Madara, politely ignoring his sudden wide-eyed look of shock. Madara stepped back and invited him inside, and Tobirama smiled slightly as he followed. Madara must be shocked, if he’d fallen back on hospitality instead of making a snippy comment that Tobirama should spit out whatever he’d come for and take himself off again.

“Anija sent these, he said you were waiting for them.” Tobirama said, proffering the sealed scrolls in their little satchel. He swept the room with an assessing look - it . . . was somewhat cosier and more appealingly appointed than he would have assumed - and his eyes landed on a fine, red-varnished koto lying near a pillow. “I didn’t know you played.”

Madara froze, nearly dropping the satchel as he looked from the koto back to Tobirama. “I. . .”

Tobirama sighed quietly. Both his amusement and enjoyment felt rather hollow now. “It was lovely.” he said, smiling and bowing his head. “I’m . . . sorry to have interrupted you,” he turned back for the door, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Madara’s chakra was spiking and muddled behind him, and Tobirama pushed down the a pang in his chest, knowing the cause was his presence.


He paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked back. Madara stood in the doorway, his hair falling forwards around his face. “I. . . Thank you.” he said, just loud enough to carry to Tobirama where he stood. “Not,” he held up the satchel, “for playing messenger boy.”

Tobirama smiled again. “Honesty.” he said lightly.

Madara’s expression eased a little more. He didn’t speak again, though, before he stepped back and slowly closed the door. His chakra was smoother now, and. . .

Tobirama closed his eyes, the pang in his chest eased as the koto’s song began to play once more. Madara had to know he was not yet out of range. It was a small gesture, but . . . unmistakable.

Chapter Text

Madara pulled himself up into the branches after the feeling of Tobirama’s cool - if currently rather disrupted - chakra. “I know I joked about it a few days ago, but are you seriously hiding up here from the crowds?” he asked as a corner of blue fabric came into view.

Tobirama laughed and Madara smiled reflexively. “Not quite. Just taking a break. Join me?” he added, his voice low and soft, just as Madara was hesitating and wondering if he should depart and leave his lover to it.

He ascended the final stretch to join Tobirama and met his eyes with a smile and a quiet, pleased hum. “Of course.”

Tobirama held out a hand, and Madara took it, raising an eyebrow, only to suddenly have to stifle a cry when Tobirama yanked him down. He huffed as he settled himself a little more comfortably . . . but he stayed in Tobirama’s lap, with a wriggle of his hips and a chiding nudge against Tobirama’s ribs, but no real protest.

Tobirama’s breath caught and he slid a hand up Madara’s thigh, pushing beneath the edge of his yukata to find skin. Madara’s eyes widened as his lover’s hand slid higher. “Tobi. . .”

“Yes?” Tobirama asked, voice dropping even more, shifting beneath him. Tobirama was hard against his ass. Madara swallowed down a soft moan and fidgeted, lips twitching towards a smile when Tobirama hissed, fingers tightening for a moment. “Protests?”

“I. . .” Madara paused, extending his senses a little. No one was nearby. Between the two of them, if anyone did approach. . . “No.”

Tobirama tipped his head up, pressing a wet kiss to Madara’s neck. “Good.” he breathed in Madara’s ear, fingertips teasing up his inner thigh.

Madara’s stomach clenched at the touch and despite the zing of nerves with his sharp awareness of their location . . . or maybe because of it . . . his lover’s touch was already stirring his interest. He bit his lip, closing his eyes and leaning hard into Tobirama, who groaned and rocked against his ass.

“We shouldn’t take long.” Madara groaned quietly into Tobirama’s ear.

“I won’t take long,” Tobirama said on a laugh, “not with you like this.” He pinched Madara’s inner thigh lightly, making him jump, and ran his fingers through Madara’s hair where it spilled down from the top of the ornate knot he’d spent over an hour wrestling with that morning. Madara swallowed tightly. “Help me get. . .” he trailed off, tugging at fabric.

Madara huffed, taking a moment to refocus and- Ah. Yukata. Mess. Bad. He lifted up and pulled Tobirama’s open, shivering as his lover did the same and the spring air slid unencumbered over his skin. He settled back down against Tobirama, tense and already hard before his lover’s hand found his cock.

No, Madara wouldn’t take long either. He caught hold of Tobirama’s hair in one hand, pulling his head back and twisting to kiss him hard.

Chapter Text

“Ha, Tobirama! You’re back!” Izuna called as he swung around the doorframe ahead of Madara; his heart leapt, even though he had known Tobirama was home. “Youuuu- Oh my fuck.”

Madara froze, then lunged after his brother, abandoning the carefully controlled pace he had been keeping.

“Izuna, what is wrong with you?” Tobirama asked as Madara approached. “Summarise and stick to recent developments, please, I haven’t time for the whole mess. You are an Uchiha, after all.” he added, arching a brow, as Madara made it into the house.

Madara’s jaw dropped. “You. . .”

“Madara!” Tobirama’s expression softened immediately, his eyes warm. Madara at least noticed that much, though his eyes were fixed on the spiky spill of silver across Tobirama’s shoulders. His fur was already set aside with his armour, but there were soft waves of silver-white framing his face, which looked somehow even more angular with the contrast. “Madara?” he said again, more hesitantly.

Tobirama.” Madara said, voice thick. “Oh fuck I missed you.” he said, covering the remaining space between them in a few quick strides.

Tobirama dragged him in quick and hard once he was in reach, and Madara let himself be moved. He vaguely heard Izuna making a retching noise and the door slamming, but he easily tuned his brother out as he met his lover in a kiss for the first time in far too long. Over a year. . . Tobirama purred, relaxing against him, cradling his jaw in one hand, the other arm wrapped around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Madara reached up, unable to quite stop himself, and wound his fingers into the tempting, strange fall of his lover’s hair. It was as soft and fluffy as Tobirama’s hair always had been under his touch, but. . .

He gasped as they pulled apart, needing to breathe, but didn’t move back, and didn’t release Tobirama’s hair, eyes sliding to the lock he held.

“You’re really thrown by this.” Tobirama observed breathlessly, and Madara looked back at his face, startling. “Anija’s been trying to get me to grow it out long for years, Mito will be quite insufferable, I’m sure. At him. I plan to cut it again before he can-”

He broke off, staring at Madara, who flushed, ducking his head. He hadn’t quite meant to let out that mournful noise.

Tobirama laughed, and the heat in Madara’s face intensified, though the sound was warm and soft. “Or I suppose I can put up with Anija . . . and let it keep growing.”

Madara looked up at his lover again, through his fringe. Tobirama kissed him lightly, then sighed, nuzzling against his cheek and wrapping both arms around Madara’s shoulders. “Do you really like it that much?” he asked, though it sounded rather absent as he toyed with Madara’s own hair.

“It’s gorgeous.” Madara said, burying his face against it and basking in the feeling of Tobirama solid and warm and here again. “You don’t need to keep it long for me, though.”

“Mm. I don’t mind. For a while, at least. We’ll see.” Tobirama said, leaning heavily into Madara’s embrace. Madara suspected he hadn’t taken enough rest on the way home.

“Decide later.” Madara suggested, though he hummed with pleasure as he nestled against his lover’s hair, tugging lightly at the strands caught around his fingers. “You should rest now.”

Tobirama grumbled but he was amazingly compliant when Madara nudged him into movement without pulling away.

Chapter Text


Madara half-turned, his hands still raised to pin his hair up, the dragon that took up almost his entire back shifting with the ripple of muscle like it would soar right off his skin. “What?” he asked, shifting his weight again.

“Your tattoo!” Hashirama grinned. “It’s amazing; I just didn’t know you had one.”

It was an odd choice for Madara, too, he thought distractedly; it was clearly a water dragon, despite the rich reds highlighting the primarily pale blue creature.

Madara stiffened, coughing, and grabbed more firmly at the twist of his hair as it began to fall. Hashirama opened his mouth to ask if his friend was all right, but Madara cleared his throat, interrupting him. “It’s- It’s not a tattoo.” he said, voice low, stabbing the hairsticks into his hair with alarming force.

Hashirama blinked, then his eyes widened. “It’s your soulmark?” he asked, gaping. “It- Madara it’s huge!”

“I know.” Madara ducked his chin and let his hands drop.

Hashirama was almost vibrating with excitement - he himself was lucky enough to have a soulmark as well; his was quite small, as most were - but he silenced himself, with a great effort, noting how uncomfortable Madara seemed to be. Probably he hadn’t yet found his soulmate, Hashirama thought sympathetically, following him out to the onsen.

He almost ran into Madara’s back as soon as they were outside - would have, probably, if he hadn’t been studying the soulmark while he could. “Madara, what’s wrong?” he asked, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and moving around him to- “Oh! Hello Tobi.” he greeted cheerfully.

His brother opened one eye and flicked a fingertip in greeting. Hashirama shook his head; oh Tobi. He nudged Madara along in front of him. “Come on, he won’t bite!” he said. “He hates people who make disturbances in onsen.”

“I’m amazed you’re still alive, then.” Madara said dryly, and Hashirama turned to him, grabbing his arm and dragging him closer.

Madaraaa. . .” Hashirama wailed.

“Anija. . .” Tobirama said warningly, with an ominous rippling, dripping sound. Hashirama cast his gaze sideways to find himself fixed by narrowed eyes. Several narrow tendrils had risen from the onsen, and Tobirama’s hands were forming a seal before his chest, blocking part of the fiery spiral the dragon he wore as his soulmark was breathing from the jaws spread wide over his heart.

Hashirama coughed awkwardly, dropping Madara’s arm and ducking his head apologetically to his brother.

Tobirama sighed, hands relaxing as he sank back to his seat, the water quietly ceasing to defy gravity and returning to its place. “Madara, as long as you’ve any sort of manners, I don’t mind if you join me.”

“Of course I have manners, you-” Madara broke off with a growl, flushing. Hashirama watched him get into the water and really hoped he wouldn’t lose his temper or be loud.

“Anija, behave yourself.” Tobirama said flatly. “I know you don’t have any.”

Hashirama pouted at his brother in lieu of another wail, slipping into the water himself. He was a little grumpy - and surprised - that Madara had chosen the seat near Tobirama, the only other one in that lobe of the pool, leaving no room for him by either of them.

He huffed and settled down around the curving basin from them instead.

Chapter Text

“Mm!” Tobirama stiffened and quickly relaxed as he felt warm hands slide up his calves and weight settling across his legs.

Madara hummed behind him, lilting towards a laugh, but didn’t say anything, hands wandering higher. Tobirama shifted a little, letting his thighs drift apart, but kept his eyes on the book propped against his pillow.

Madara squeezed just above his knees, then settled lower against him, one hand drifting up the back of his thigh to rest lightly on his ass. Tobirama quashed both the urge to shift and a mild shiver, turning a page in his book and focusing on the characters.

He managed to keep his attention roughly on them, though not everything he read quite sank in, as Madara dipped his head, his hair falling across Tobirama’s thighs, and pressed a kiss to the outside of his thigh. The warmth of both his breath and his skin seeped right through the thin fabric. Tobirama couldn’t hold back the shiver this time.

Madara moved up again, chest settling across Tobirama’s ass and hips, arms folding across his lower back. Tobirama waited idly for his lover to speak, only a fraction of his attention still on the book, though his eyes didn’t stray.

Madara only shifted lazily and rested his head against Tobirama’s back. Tobirama licked his lips and went back to the top of the page, trying to actually focus this time . . . even as Madara lazily trailed aimless caresses up and down his waist and ribs.

Madara sighed, more contentment than impatience, and settled more comfortably, his fingers splaying and his breath teasing over the small of Tobirama’s back through his shirt.

Tobirama hummed and turned the next page as Madara’s hand slowed, then stilled, resting low on his ribs. Madara was still and quiet, a heavy warmth draped over him. It was . . . comfortable.

Tobirama read a few more pages, lingering over the prose, charmed by the twists and turns of the phrasing. Then he smoothed a hand over the paper and closed the book.

“Madara.” he said softly, letting the book fall beside his pillow. “Let me up.”

Madara whined, moving slowly, but after a few long moments he began to push himself up off Tobirama. He turned over the moment he was clear enough to do so, reaching up and sinking one hand into Madara’s hair, rubbing his thumb over Madara’s cheekbone, and gently pulling him back down.

Madara’s slightly pouty expression warmed into a soft smile and he settled close again easily, pillowing his head on Tobirama’s lower chest this time. Tobirama stroked his shoulders, folding one arm across them and letting his fingers tangle into Madara’s hair.

Chapter Text

Tobirama groaned, his shoulders tense and his back bowing as he thrust upwards.

Madara smirked at him, leaning forwards just enough to pin Tobirama down with splayed hands on his belly. Tobirama’s legs tensed, heels digging into the bed. Madara rolled his hips, muscles tightening around Tobirama’s cock, and pushed himself up again.

He kept pressing Tobirama down, barely allowing Tobirama to rock up enough to meet him as he brought himself down, moaning. He was beautifully flushed, eyes liquid and dark as he panted softly, fingers curling just a little and dragging his smooth calluses against Tobirama’s skin.

Tobirama stroked his thighs, gripping firmly and arching up into him, and his head tipped back as he almost slammed himself down on Tobirama’s cock. He cried out, muscles trembling visibly, thighs pressing tighter against Tobirama’s sides.

Another almost jerky rise and fall and he leaned forwards a little, bracing himself on his hands, meeting Tobirama’s eyes and licking his lips. Tobirama moaned, smoothing one hand further up Madara’s thigh, and he shivered, not letting his rhythm slow.

His hair was wild around his face and shoulders, and his skin glistened with sweat in the flickering light of the lamps he had lit with a hurried seal and a huff as they tumbled to the bed. Tobirama grinned at the thought, and Madara practically growled, rocking harder against him, demanding.

Tobirama traced a caress across his belly, feeling the ridges of taut muscle as he moved, then stroked his cock and wrapped it in a firm grip. Madara let out a louder cry, movements stuttering, and Tobirama moaned at the fluttering clutch around his own cock as his lover shifted and gasped for breath.

“Tobirama. . .” Madara moaned, body bowing as Tobirama arched beneath him, burying his cock deeper in his lover’s eager body. Madara rode the movement with a throaty purr, bracing himself more heavily on Tobirama’s belly again as he shifted, muscles clenching around Tobirama’s cock, then resettled his hands on his own thighs.

His shoulders flexed as his lifted himself again, and this time Tobirama bucked up to meet him on the way down, making him shout, flush deepening and cock twitching in Tobirama’s hand. He squeezed, then shifted his grip to let Madara’s movements push into his hand and focused on matching his lover’s rhythm, his free hand clutching at the bedding and his back arching.

Madara moaned, hips rolling as he came down, driving Tobirama’s cock into himself as deeply as he could and rocking against him. Tobirama twitched, groaning, jaw clenching as he felt the curl of tension in his belly pulling tighter.

He dropped his hand from his lover’s cock to the bed to steady himself as he tipped his head back, pressing hard against the bed. Madara shuddered and rocked through one more thrust, then hit his climax with a shout, cock twitching and semen spurting across Tobirama’s belly.

He groaned, reaching up and grabbing Madara’s hips, grinding into his lover as he gasped and slumped forwards, hands moving from his thighs to Tobirama’s chest to support himself. Tobirama moaned breathlessly as he spilled his own pleasure into the tight clasp of his lover’s body with a harsh snap of his hips, heat flashing through him.

Madara groaned and slid even further forwards, dropping to rest across Tobirama’s chest, his hair falling around them and cutting out most of the light. Tobirama moaned again, sliding his hands up Madara’s body and pressing a clumsy kiss to his jaw, both shivering and breathing hard with the aftermath of pleasure.

Chapter Text

Madara let out a breath slowly, rising from one form and breathing in just as slowly as he brought one foot up along the inside of the other leg, twisting at the waist and extending-

The ground shook and his eyes snapped open as he flinched under the wall of sound from an explosion. An instant later he was bolting for the small outbuilding that housed Tobirama’s lab and study, only distractedly noting the sound of Kagami - his balance in the poses less well-trained - collapsing with a sharp yelp of alarm behind him.

A cloud of smoke poured out when he opened the lab door, and Madara cursed and shaped three seals, then blew. The smoke coalesced and shot off in the direction of a hedge they would probably need to replant later - or invite Hashirama for dinner; he always tended any plants in the vicinity without bothering to ask - shredding it with hot blades. Madara hadn’t had time to repurpose the battle jutsu.

“Mada-shishou?” Kagami asked from just behind him.

“Tobirama?” Madara yelled, squinting to try and make anything out in the dark room. He smelled mostly smoke, even now it had been cleared away.

“Tobira-sensei?” Kagami echoed, and Madara dropped a hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently. He stepped into the building, giving Kagami a light push to encourage him to stay out - Madara had no idea what Tobirama might have done in here to cause such a large explosion. Or even if he was still here rather than having used his hiraishin to escape the fallout.

Madara took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Madara?” Tobirama’s voice was raspy and weak, and Madara’s pulse immediately jumped again, heart pounding painfully.

“Tobirama!” It took Madara barely a few frantic heartbeats to dart to Tobirama’s side, placing him by the sound of his voice, and he dropped to his knees- Wet. There was wet soaking quickly through his pants at the knees. Madara took a breath and hoped fervently it was not blood, then shaped a small katon.

Kagami was hurrying to join them even as Madara took in the sight of his lover; his shirt and down one side of his pants half-shredded, bleeding through the mesh armour he wore beneath, and more blood soaking through his hair on one side. Madara swallowed roughly. “Kagami, go ba-”

Tobira-sensei!” Kagami cried, immediately looking more distressed.

Tobirama coughed, wincing. “I’ll be fine, Kagami.” he said roughly. “Breathe.”

Madara dragged his gaze away from his lover’s face and caught Kagami’s eyes firmly. “Kagami, can you make a small katon for me?” Madara asked. Kagami shuddered, but swallowed and nodded hurriedly, small hands already coming up before him.

Madara let his own go out and an instant later Kagami’s bloomed, neatly controlled in the space between his palms. “Thank you.” Madara said vaguely, running his hands over his lover’s ribs lightly. “Back?” he asked, and Tobirama winced, shaking his head. “All right. It’s- I’ll take you to the hospital. It’s not going to feel great.” he added, and Tobirama laughed, cringing at the same time.

“Mada-shishou?” Kagami asked as Madara carefully drew Tobirama up and into his arms, cradling him and trying not to put undue strain on his injuries. “Will- Is-”

“Everything will be fine.” Madara told him, leading the way out, hoping it was true, reassured somewhat by the steady pulse of Tobirama’s heart, which he could feel against his forearm. Even if it was currently pumping rather too much of his blood out of him. “Stay away from Tobirama’s lab.” he ordered, starting to run without waiting for a response.

Chapter Text

Kagami peeked around the door tentatively.

He startled when Tobira-sensei met his eyes, and nearly banged into the doorframe.

“Come here.” Tobira-sensei beckoned, and Kagami crept closer, eyeing Mada-shishou carefully. He was curled on the far side of the bed beside Tobira-sensei, head almost against his shoulder, eyes closed. “Are you all right? Madara told me you were right there with us, and I remember. . . Kagami?”

Kagami sniffled and Tobira-sensei reached out to him, beckoning. Kagami inched closer and found himself tugged down onto the bed. He stiffened, trying to stay away from Tobira-sensei so as not to hurt him, but Tobira-sensei only curled an arm around him and held Kagami snug against his chest. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. You’re- You’re all right, aren’t you, Tobira-sensei?” Kagami asked, trying not to fidget. Tobira-sensei ruffled his hair and hummed, tucking Kagami’s head down with a nudge and resting his chin atop it.

“I will be just fine.” Tobira-sensei said softly. “I am sorry I frightened you.”

Kagami sighed, shivering, and snuggled carefully a little more snugly into Tobira-sensei’s side. Tobira-sensei petted his hair.

“It was an accident, but all is well.” Tobira-sensei said, voice a low murmur under Kagami’s head. “I will be fine, and you are unhurt, all is well.” He hummed soothingly, pressing Kagami’s head back down when he would have moved, then stroking down his shoulders and back up.

Kagami shuddered, then relaxed with Tobira-sensei murmuring soothingly to him, breathing steadily and feeling comfortingly like himself against Kagami.


“When did he get here?”

“While you were sleeping.” Tobirama said, lips quirking. Madara huffed, pouting slightly. “He wanted to be sure I was all right.”

“Understandably!” Madara snapped, keeping his voice low in deference to the boy who had fallen asleep against Tobirama’s shoulder. “I cannot believe you would-”

“Madara.” Tobirama interrupted, and he glared. “I’m all right. I know I worried you and I am sorry, but it should not have been even a possibility things would end up that way. If I had known-”

“You would have done it anyway.” Madara said, folding his arms and hunching forwards a little.

Tobirama began to move towards his lover only to be stymied by Kagami’s weight against his side and on his shoulder, and sighed. He held out a hand. “Come here? Please?” he coaxed, and Madara grumbled but returned to him, twining their fingers. “I would at least have thought it out carefully, and taken precautions to protect myself . . . and I would have talked with you about it.” he said softly, kissing Madara’s knuckles.

“You scared me.” Madara said quietly, squeezing Tobirama’s hand. “I don’t like it.”

“I know.” Tobirama said, sighing. He tucked Madara’s hand along his cheek.

“Please don’t do it again.” Madara said, settling at his side and curling around him, an arm sliding behind his shoulders, careful not to disturb Kagami. “Not like that.”

“I will try my best, love.” Tobirama promised, leaning into Madara’s embrace and closing his eyes.

Chapter Text

“Aniki’s out back.” Izuna waved jerkily in the vague direction of the other side of the house and went back to cursing at his whetstone. Tobirama eyed Izuna’s sword and privately thought it would be best served by being reforged, not sharpened, but held his tongue.

“Thank you.” Tobirama hesitated, and Izuna huffed, his wings fluffing out a little, shimmering like a raven’s in the sunlight.

“Just go through.” he said impatiently, and Tobirama rolled his eyes and did so. He opened his mouth to call out as he stepped out onto the engawa at the rear of the house, then just . . . stopped.

Tobirama swallowed.

Half-spread in the sun, Madara’s wings shone even more than his brother’s, but not in the same faint iridescences; his feathers were black as a moonless night, shimmering with barring in the faintest traces of charcoal grey. Tobirama had seen his wings in this state before, though - not often enough, but he had - that wasn’t what had staggered him so badly. Tobirama moved quietly around to get a better angle, thoughtlessly arching his wings slightly.

Sheltered under Madara’s own wings were three small Uchiha, one of them young enough her proper feathers - a deep, dark brown - were still coming in amidst downy fluff. Madara laughed softly, wings stretching and then fluttering, scooping a fourth little one closer with a careful nudge from the broad leading edge of one wing.

The child giggled as he toppled into Madara’s waiting arms, snuggling close and tucking his curly head beneath Madara’s chin.

“Mada-sama? Mada-sama?” the youngest girl said, grabbing a handful of thick feathers on the nearest bit of Madara’s wing. Tobirama winced, but Madara didn’t so much as flinch.

“Yes, Airi?” he replied, tucking the boy in his lap into one arm and extending the other hand to ruffle the girl’s hair.

“Will you really take me up?” Airi pleaded, inching closer with a hopeful look in her big eyes. “Kaasan can’t, Kaasan’s wings are too little. . .”

“As long as your Kaasan says it’s all right.” Madara promised, and made a playful face at her, nose wrinkling. “Even Clan Heads have to listen to kaasan.” he told her seriously, and the girl giggled. Madara smoothed her downy feathers with one hand, and her wings stretched a little under his touch, pushing into it. “My wings are certainly strong enough.” he said with a flicker of a wry smile.

Certainly they were, Tobirama thought, admiring the broad, sharply-angled spread of them. Almost as big as Tobirama’s, and broader, like his brother’s, but with the cleanly-swept angles that lent him graceful, quick manoeuvrability Hashirama had always lacked. He was an impressive flyer by any standard . . . and he was capable of carrying his fully-grown baby brother in flight.

Madara looked up, still smiling, and caught sight of Tobirama, brow furrowing slightly and wings curling in around the children for a split-second before his expression softened with recognition. Tobirama swallowed hard and smiled at him, trying to steady himself when Madara beckoned.

Chapter Text

Madara ducked under a low-slung branch and pushed into the narrow space where the trees ceded their ground, leading down to the river’s edge. He frowned when there was no sign of his lover; he had tracked Tobirama here with a simple flare of his senses.

Then a bright point of yellow caught his eye and he turned to find it was Tobirama’s sash, sitting atop a small pile of blue that was . . . more than likely the rest of his clothes. Madara eyed the river, wondering if he was beneath the surface. Even Tobirama had to breathe, though, and he rather doubted it.

He looked around quickly, then froze. He turned slowly back, tilting his head up towards the flash of white he had seen.


Madara swallowed. Tobirama was lounging on one broad branch, his skin practically glowing against the deep green of the leaves behind him and the dull bark. His eyes were closed, but Madara doubted he was asleep, with one arm stretched out, hand wound around a smaller branch, and his long legs braced lightly against the tree’s trunk.

The position was just enough to make his muscles stand out . . . and Madara could see them all, Tobirama not having bothered with any of his clothes, and still wet from the river. He . . . glistened, in what little light filtered through the trees.

He looked like a forest spirit, deadly and alluring and somehow perfectly fit there amongst the trees and the river, even with his pale skin and the brilliant red of his winding tattoos a sharp contrast to the colours of the forest.

Madara thought, as ever, that Tobirama was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

Chapter Text

Quiet footsteps wandered down the corridor, and Madara made a very quiet, thin sound that was not a squeak, freezing. “Why are we in here?” he demanded, barely a breath.

“Did you want to deal with my brother right now?” Tobirama muttered right back, twisting a bit against the cupboard door. Madara stiffened and swallowed thickly, trying not to move. The cupboard was entirely too small for two men of their size, and Tobirama’s lean body was practically pressed up against him, and-

And he felt entirely too good, leaving Madara struggling to keep from running a hand over his side or dipping his head to tuck against Tobirama’s shoulder, or-

“What are you doing, Anija?” Tobirama whispered, huffing silently and shifting his weight, his hip bumping up against Madara and making his breath catch. “Go home to your wife, for fuck’s sake. . .”

If Madara had been less preoccupied by Tobirama, and the close quarters they found themselves in, he might have found it amusing that Tobirama was saying such a thing about staying late in the office. Although at least Tobirama had no wife at home to return to, left waiting.

Madara made a tight little sound that he tried in vain to strangle down at that thought.

“Hush!” Tobirama urged, reaching out vaguely and patting him. “Are you all right?” he added a moment later, head turning as he glanced back at Madara.

“Fine.” Madara said thinly, trying to press further into the wall at his back.

“Hrm.” Tobirama turned away again, and Madara closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the fleeting warmth of Tobirama’s hand against his ribs. He swallowed and focused on breathing. And not moving. “He’s leaving. . . Back to the archives it looks like, Anija . . . why.” Tobirama muttered, turning and brushing up against Madara again. “Ah- Madara, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.” Madara said, his voice still not quite right.

“I’m sorry I shoved you in here if it’s bothering you. . .” Tobirama said, and Madara opened his eyes, a little surprised. Tobirama was looking at him with concern in the very dim light. Madara opened his mouth, then closed it. The expression wasn’t helping. “Are you- We can probably get out now, if that would help.”

Madara shook his head faintly. Not at this point, no. Or . . . the immediate problem, yes, but not. . .


Madara reached for Tobirama, leaning in to- He stopped, turning his head.

“. . .Madara?” Tobirama repeated, softer.

Madara looked up, meeting Tobirama’s eyes, washed out in the dark. “I-” he began, then paused, making a decision. “May I kiss you?” he asked, and fought not to wince.

Tobirama made a soft oh, stiffening. Madara held still, wishing faintly he’d waited until they were no longer shut in a cupboard to ask, if nothing else.

“Oh.” Tobirama said again. “Oh, Madara.” Then warm lips were brushing his, Tobirama suddenly even closer, their bodies pressed together and Madara’s back against the wall of the cupboard. Madara purred, going lax with relief, and tipped his head into the kiss as he let one arm wrap around Tobirama’s waist.

Chapter Text

“Are you planning to wash at some point?” Madara crossed his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you supposed to love the water? There’s some right over there, go get clean, you’re disgusting.” His nose wrinkled.

“Madara, I cannot verbalise the depths to which I long to be fucking clean,” Tobirama snapped, “however, it is fucking freezing, and I prefer all my extremities whole and without nerve damage, so you’ll have to just deal with it, as I am.”

Madara growled. “I will make you hot water, if it would get you to fucking wash, I am not getting into an enclosed space with- with that!” he insisted, jabbing a finger at Tobirama, covered in blood and dirt and slightly charred viscera.

Tobirama turned fully towards him. “If you can materialise hot water for us to wash in out here I will suck you off in it.” he huffed, scraping something unspeakable off the back of his left hand with the edge of a kunai.

Madara choked, eyes widening. “What- I- You wouldn’t-” he spluttered.

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “Oh calm down, I meant it but I’m not about to assault you.” He huffed again, pouting, and Madara swallowed thickly, suddenly unable to quite drag his eyes away from Tobirama’s mouth. “Certainly not without getting clean.”

Madara cleared his throat. “I. I meant it too. I can heat the springs over there.” he managed, gesturing vaguely to the series of three little pools fed by springs just warm enough not to be frozen over, and Tobirama’s eyes widened.

“You can? Enough to bathe? For long enough to bathe?” Tobirama asked rapidly, reaching for the fur - also filthy - wrapped around his shoulders, shivering.

It would take a solid reserve of chakra to do it properly, but Madara still had it and he wouldn’t mind using it for such a purpose - Madara was going to scream if he didn’t get clean soon. And he could trust Tobirama to watch their backs if it tired him more than he anticipated.

“That and longer.” Madara said honestly, then winced faintly. He hadn’t meant that to imply- “And I’m not sharing that miniscule cabin with you until you’ve washed if it means I have to stab you or wash you myself.”

Tobirama’s lips quirked. “The one might be more effective than the other, but I promise to wash myself. To your exacting specifications - you can inspect me after if you like,” he added, arching an eyebrow, “as soon as you produce some hot water.”

Chapter Text

“That,” Madara paused, checking the feel of the jutsu, “should do it.” He was a little breathless from the effort it had taken, but that was already passing, and the now steaming springs before them looked . . . very inviting.

Madara jumped, eyes wide, as Tobirama darted past him in a smooth leap that carried him into the water, clothes abandoned on the rocky ledge surrounding the pool. He rose from beneath the surface after almost a full minute, shaking his head hard and letting out a low moan that made Madara think uncomfortably of the flippant words-

Madara cleared his throat and shook himself, then had to suppress a startled reaction as Tobirama met his eyes. “I am not the only one filthy.” Tobirama said archly. “Surely you intend to get clean as well?” He paused, a smirk playing about his lips. “You are not the only one with standards, either.” he added, arching a brow.

Madara huffed and stomped towards the water, stripping off his clothes and hurrying into the heat of the spring with a shudder. He closed his eyes and sighed, sinking lower, enjoying both the heat and the feeling of the water.


Madara groaned, but dropped his hands from where he had been smoothing them over his skin under the water, opened his eyes, and turned towards Tobirama.

“Give me your clothes.” Tobirama said, holding out an open hand.

“What?” Madara asked, brows drawing together.

Tobirama sighed as though Madara were being slow. “I can wash them more efficiently. Or did you intend to get back into the same filthy clothes?” he asked, lip curling.

“But- It’s freezing.” Madara pointed out, shuddering at the thought of damp clothes. “I can’t keep the springs hot long enough to wash everything and let it dry.” And it would take longer if it happened at all in the frozen, wet air, unless he used a katon, which was always risky. . .

Tobirama stared at him for a moment. Then he made a gesture and the water from the spring surged up over Madara’s head, soaking his hair . . . then pulled away, leaving it as dry as before even as he reflexively reached up. “I assure you, our clothes will be dry when we’re ready for them.” Tobirama said, shaking his head.

Madara winced and threw his clothes to Tobirama with thanks, sinking under the water to properly wet his hair this time, more than ready to get the filth out of it. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten Tobirama’s own affinity - or, rather, hadn’t thought of the helpful implications suiton had in this instance.

Chapter Text

“You- You don’t have to-” Madara said awkwardly, pressing himself backwards against the edge of the pool as Tobirama approached.

Tobirama smiled, eyes sparkling with mischief - a look Madara hadn’t . . . quite realised he was capable of. “I am well aware.” he said almost lazily. “But, Madara,” he bent his head, “do you want me to?”

Madara’s breath caught and he glanced down to Tobirama’s mouth without consciously allowing the slip, a pulse of heat throbbing low in his belly. Tobirama’s smile widened, then his lips half-pursed as the tip of his tongue traced over them. Madara mostly caught back the sound that wanted to escape him at that, but Tobirama hummed knowingly as Madara dragged his gaze back up to bright ruby eyes.

“I. . .” Madara swallowed thickly, and Tobirama smiled again, bringing his hands together in a seal before his chest. Madara’s eyes followed the movement - less because of any instinctive wariness and more because Tobirama’s chest was . . . distractingly well muscled, the bright slashes of his tattoos only emphasising that fact.

Tobirama sank under the surface and Madara stiffened, even before gentle hands made contact with his legs, nudging. He gasped but let Tobirama spread them and ease nearer between, hands caressing up his inner thighs.

They lifted away, but Madara had no trouble finding them again - one moved up to stroke his belly and the other trailed over his hardening cock in a light caress, teasing and toying with him. Madara made a thin, wanting sound between clenched teeth, pressing his shoulders back hard against the rocky edge of the pool, muscles clenching.

Surely Tobirama would have to come back up soon; Madara had been pleasured this way underwater before and it had been a novel and enjoyable experience but . . . also verging upon frustrating, with the constant need for pauses.

Tobirama’s fingers curled around his cock and guided it as Tobirama’s mouth closed around the head, sucking hard. Madara twitched, moaning, his hands gripping tight at the edge of the ledge he was sitting on. Tobirama’s fingers traced a spiralling curve down the shaft of his cock, the hot water flowing in the wake of the soft touch and caressing his thighs and belly as it shifted with Tobirama’s movements.

Madara moaned, toes curling and hips tilting, and Tobirama made some sort of noise around his cock as he sucked it in deeper, thrumming through Madara and setting off sparks at the base of his spine. No longer needed to guide Madara’s cock, now taken fully into his mouth, Tobirama’s hands smoothed over his thighs, every movement sending the water swirling around him in ticklish, sensual caresses. Madara shivered, muscles trembling as Tobirama drew back up the length of his cock, not letting up with the suction, tongue fluttering against the shaft.

He stroked Madara’s thighs again, pausing and squeezing just above his knees, pushing them a little further apart as he moved closer, big and solid between Madara’s legs, and took him in to the base once more. He certainly wasn’t coming up for a break or a breath, Madara thought vaguely, clutching at the rock beneath him and pushing hard against that at his back, gasping for air between breathy little moans.

And still Tobirama didn’t rise, staying beneath the water and alternately teasing Madara and swamping his body with pleasure until he was shuddering and keening with it, until Madara’s muscles locked and his hips jerked, his orgasm lashing through him and leaving him weak and throbbing with the aftermath, slouched into the rocky side of the spring.

Tobirama came up, then, fingertips trailing over Madara’s thighs as he rose from the water, flushed with warmth, mouth swollen and reddened, breathing just a touch quickened. He’d just come, but a spike of pure want struck Madara at the sight.

Tobirama smirked, blinking slowly and smoothing a hand over Madara’s arm.

Chapter Text

Armour set neatly aside, Madara turned towards the bed, then paused. Tobirama was ensconced there, almost entirely hidden under their combined bedding and what little there had been in the cabin, a still mound.

Madara hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed, removed his shoes, and began to edge into the bed properly.

“Oh just come here.” Tobirama mumbled sleepily, and Madara startled. He took a moment, then resumed his movement towards Tobirama, settling near his back. “If nothing else, you’re warm.”

Madara stiffened, unable to quite explain the unpleasant little twist the words produced in his chest.

Tobirama twisted to look at him, then sighed, lips curling in a much softer expression than he’d worn earlier. They were still slightly red and swollen, and Madara suddenly wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that . . . as lovely as the sight was.

“Why do I like you so much, you foolish man?” Tobirama said softly, and reached out, hooking his fingers through Madara’s sash and drawing him close with a forceful tug. “I meant it,” he said with a brief, amused quirk of his lips, “and not solely because you are, yes, wonderfully warm.”

Madara let himself curl all the way up to Tobirama’s back, a shiver running through him at the throaty purr Tobirama gave when Madara settled against him. Tobirama drew the blankets up over him as well and nudged into his arms as he tentatively extended one over Tobirama’s slender waist.

Tobirama’s hand smoothed over his arm and wrapped over his own, fingers sliding gently between Madara’s in a light, trusting clasp. Madara swallowed, gently squeezing in return, twining their fingers, and Tobirama sighed, nudging his head against the makeshift pillow they shared and going limp in Madara’s embrace.

Madara closed his eyes and buried his face against fluffy - clean - white hair, the cosy feeling of Tobirama in his arms, comfortable and relaxed, soothing the uneasy tension in his chest more even than it warmed him.

Chapter Text

Tobirama woke with a shiver, though he wasn’t as cold as he would have expected to be, remembering the state of the weather on this blasted mission he had been sent-

He froze, eyes snapping open, as he registered why he wasn’t. Madara was warm. And pressed snugly against his back, one arm wound about his waist, their fingers entwined.

And yesterday he had sucked Madara’s cock.

In an open spring . . . which Madara had somehow contrived to turn into a hot spring for the space of perhaps an hour or more. Tobirama shivered at the memory - it had been an impressive trick, and Tobirama still wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it, though he’d wanted to ask into the jutsu, and more than that, it had been. . .

It had been a delight, being able to get warm, and clean, and comfortably submerge himself in his element, beyond the snow and ice everywhere. He hummed. Teasing Madara had been enjoyable as well, he thought wryly.

As far as that went, so had-

“Are you thinking too hard to relax?” Madara asked, his voice rough with sleep but clear despite that, and rubbed his thumb over Tobirama’s fingers. His breath was hot against the nape of Tobirama’s neck, and it made him shiver again, not quite catching back a tight little sound before it escaped him.

Madara hummed, a low rumble in his chest that made Tobirama want to splay himself out on the broad planes of muscle - not, he admitted to himself, that it took much encouragement to make him wish to do so. Madara was well worth . . . admiring, at the least, and Tobirama found himself newly holding the knowledge that Madara was also very comfortable.

And even when it was allowed - an unexpected gift - Tobirama had thought yesterday’s closeness was as much as he would ever get. He shivered and pushed back into Madara without thinking, and couldn’t help the reflexive purr of pleasure when Madara held him tighter, one hand smoothing over Tobirama’s chest and stomach. Tobirama tensed, not unpleasantly, when it strayed still lower, and Madara laughed, low and warm, against his neck.

Tobirama stifled the moan that rose in his throat as heat slipped down his spine. Madara only curled around him, a solid and comfortable heat that kept his senses singing with awareness.

Chapter Text

“Let me,” Madara said softly, sliding his hand over Tobirama’s thigh beneath their shared blankets, “please. I want to . . . offer this to you - after what you did,” he paused, eyes hot, with a low sound that was nearly a moan, “for me.”

“You,” Tobirama’s breath hitched, “you already did something for me. That was-”

“Did you do that for me because I produced hot water for you?” Madara asked, still leaning close to Tobirama, an unavoidable and almost overwhelming presence above him. Madara dipped his head closer, warm breath tickling Tobirama’s jaw.

Tobirama swallowed. “No.” he admitted softly.

“Why, then?” Madara asked, rubbing Tobirama’s thigh lightly, not looking away from his eyes. Tobirama shifted slightly, breath catching. “Tobirama. . . Why?

“Because I wanted to.” Tobirama said quietly, reaching up and brushing a hand over Madara’s side at the waist. “Because your face when I made that offer was incredible,” his lips twitched with amusement as he remembered the expression, “and it made me want to keep it. Because even when you infuriate me . . . I still want you.”

Madara made a soft sound, licking his lips, and shuddered over Tobirama.

“Then, please,” Madara said, voice rough, eyes half-lidded, “let me. . .”

“Madara. . .”

Madara squeezed his hip, catching his eyes again, and Tobirama’s voice died at the look in Madara’s own.

“. . .yes.” Tobirama said quietly, a shiver running through him, tingles racing under his skin, even before the spike in Madara’s chakra flared across his senses and made him groan, muscles tightening.

Chapter Text

The blankets shifted away as Madara moved over him, hands smoothing down his sides in a gentle caress and then plucking at his clothes. Tobirama hissed and shivered. “I don’t want to be cold.” he protested.

Madara looked up, blinking. He smirked slowly. “I swear to you,” he said, his voice a rough little purr, sliding Tobirama’s shirt open with a light caress drifting over his ribs, “I won’t let you grow cold. Tobirama.” He dipped his head, closing his eyes, and kissed Tobirama’s belly just above his navel.

Tobirama swallowed and shifted, Madara’s voice alone lighting his nerves with pleasure that shot straight to the base of his cock.

Hands working at his pants, Madara breathed against his belly, and Tobirama gasped as heat sank into him, settling deep and coiling around his bones. He moaned breathily, every muscle trembling with tension and then slowly going lax.

Madara worked his pants down, and Tobirama barely had the presence of mind to arch his hips enough to free the fabric from beneath him. Madara’s hands slid down his legs in a languid, warm caress, and Tobirama shivered beneath it, letting his legs spread in welcome, but his mind was still wound up in the delicious warmth that had sunk into him from the barest touch and breath.

“Oh.” Tobirama said, finally. Madara looked up at him again, lips faintly curled, fingers just barely making contact with his cock. “Warm.” he managed, and Madara’s smile widened.

“To your satisfaction?” Madara asked, tilting his head, his cheek nearly brushing Tobirama’s cock. Tobirama made a soft sound and nodded faintly. Madara hummed, still smiling, and wrapped his hand firmly around Tobirama’s cock, stroking it once before he lightly kissed the head, holding Tobirama’s gaze.

His hips twitched involuntarily, and he snatched a breath that was half a gasp. Madara hummed, a barely-there thrum against the head of his cock, and then took it into his mouth, lashes fluttering closed. One hand slid down his thigh and back up, making him shiver as it pinned him down, and the other lingered, guiding and steadying his cock as Madara moved over it, mouth soft in welcome and very warm.

Though he took his time, sucking and bobbing shallowly, Madara didn’t delay in taking his full length, and Tobirama let out a breathy little cry. As Madara’s mouth lowered, Madara’s hand slid to rest flat on his groin, not quite holding him down.

Madara. . .” Tobirama moaned, fingers spasming at his sides as he tensed, spreading his thighs a little wider. Madara shifted between them, a solid weight, and his tongue toyed with Tobirama’s foreskin as he drew back, catching Tobirama’s eyes again. He whimpered softly, hips hitching.

Madara made a moaning, thrumming, purring sound around his cock as he took it in again, and Tobirama’s toes curled as he lost himself in Madara’s ministrations. He shivered, and Madara’s hand slid up his belly from his groin, and waves of heat poured through him, making him moan again, deeper, though he hadn’t been chilled.

Madara didn’t let up, clever mouth slick and hot around Tobirama as he sucked and played, never quite teasing. Tobirama squirmed and arched, gripping the bedding as shudders swept through him. Madara rubbed his thigh again, squeezing, and sucked Tobirama’s full length into his mouth once more, casting his dark eyes up to catch Tobirama’s own.

He let out a soft cry, head snapping back as his orgasm crested through him like a wave, stealing his breath and sending tingling heat through every bit of his body. Madara swallowed down his release without pause, purring a satisfied little note that made Tobirama whimper, toes curling again, his brain whited out with pleasure.

Madara released his cock slowly, making his way back up over Tobirama with slow, steady movements, stroking hands roaming his body and gentling him through his afterglow.

Chapter Text

Tobirama groaned, irritated. “That- That dratted man.” he snapped, shoving the revised draft of the diplomatic agreement back across the table. “I swear he goes out of his way just to aggravate me.”

Hashirama hummed, picking up the document and skimming over it, patting Tobirama’s shoulder. “Now, now, Tobi. . .” he half-crooned. “That’s not annoyance you’re feeling, is it? It’s interest, mm? You knew Madara is smart.” he added, with a slight frown.

Tobirama huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s both.” he muttered sulkily. “I am perfectly capable of multitasking, you know, Anija.”

Chapter Text

Madara startled and looked up at the soft brush of a hand across his shoulder. Tobirama smiled down at him, then shifted, moving Madara’s cup of sake and sitting on the table almost directly in front of him.

Madara’s brows rose and he cocked his head. Tobirama smiled, softening his face still further.

Lacking his happuri, slightly flushed, and dressed in a fine kimono, he’d already looked far softer than almost anyone got to see him . . . normally. Madara still hadn’t expected to see him perching on a table, or-

Tobirama held out a sweet, too close to be anything but an offer, leaning forwards, and Madara stiffened. He looked from Tobirama’s fingers back up to his still warm and faintly amused expression. “You- You would. . .” he trailed off weakly.

Tobirama was not exactly the kind of person to be publicly so . . . intimate; he wasn’t cold, whatever Madara might once have thought, but he was rather more used to Tobirama’s usual reserve and scrupulous manners.

“You’re my husband,” Tobirama said, and the easy statement sent a flutter of warmth through Madara though it had been a constant thought in his mind all day, “I would do as I please. With you.” he added, with an almost challenging look.

Madara shifted forwards just enough to accept the treat from his husband’s fingers, catching the tip of one between his teeth and curling his tongue against it. Tobirama’s breath caught and he shivered, thumb brushing Madara’s jaw in a light caress.

Madara shifted a little in his chair as he released his husband’s hand, bringing himself closer still to the table as Tobirama turned, legs angling out of the way, to face him fully.


“Don’t they know we can all see them?” Hashirama whimpered, reaching out vaguely for his sake without taking his hand away from his eyes.

Touka exchanged an amused glance with Mito. “I shouldn’t think you can see anything at the moment, cousin.” she observed. She glanced at Mito again, then slid Hashirama’s sake cup sideways just as he was about to find it with his fingertips. Mito’s lips twitched.

I think they’re sweet.” Mito said, eyes straying back to where Madara was now leaning forwards against the table, one elbow braced on the far side of Tobirama’s thighs, and Tobirama bent over him in turn, one hand framing his face. “Besides. They were married today. Let them be a little indecent.”

“Like you two certainly never are after being married for years. . .” Touka observed, and Mito arched a brow, smirking in a way that said she was definitely going to bring out something about Touka in retaliation for that, even if Touka didn’t know what yet.

They both ignored Hashirama, who had peeked between his fingers and begun whining again about what Madara and Tobirama were doing.

Chapter Text

“Aniki!” Izuna called, drawing out the final syllable. “You can’t just hole yourself up in your office like this and hope to- What the fuck are you doing?

Madara yelped, the sudden intrusion making him jump, and Tobirama keened beneath him, flushing and lunging up to grab on to Madara even tighter. “What the hell are you doing in here?” he managed, his face flushing a deep red.

Izuna floundered briefly, his eyes wide, and Madara found his voice. “Izuna! Get the hell out!” he shouted, sliding an arm around Tobirama’s shoulders instinctively, feeling himself blush as well.

“Fine, fine, fuck, it’s not like I want to be seeing this!” Izuna shouted back, waving his arms. “I don’t even-”

“Get out!” Madara repeated, pointing at the door with his free hand.

Izuna waved his hands again, huffing, and took a step towards the door. “Although, seriously, Aniki, what-”

Get out!” Tobirama’s bellow joined Madara’s roar this time, and Izuna yelped and moved faster, darting out the doorway and - fortunately - slamming it closed in his wake.

Madara slumped forwards over his lover, resting his face against Tobirama’s shoulder.

Tobirama groaned, some of the tension draining from his body as he dropped flat once more, smoothing one hand over Madara’s back, his legs relaxing and settling a little lower around Madara’s hips.

“I thought you locked the door?” Madara grumbled into Tobirama’s shoulder.

“I did. And sealed it.” Tobirama huffed, fingers curling towards a fist on Madara’s back. “Not very strongly, in case there was an emergency . . . and because you were being distracting, but I did.”

“Damn it Izuna.” Madara muttered; Izuna must have crashed in on purpose after finding the door sealed. Brat.

Chapter Text


Madara twitched, baring his teeth reflexively, and didn’t turn. Tobirama yelled his name again, and everyone around Madara was looking that way - presumably at Tobirama, there was surely nothing else so interesting in that direction currently.


Madara growled to himself, but finally turned anyway - Tobirama was a stubborn bastard, and there would be no point ignoring him and hoping he would go away. If he had something to say he would say it.

Tobirama was standing on one of the low walls that defined the plaza, impossible to miss even if he hadn’t been shouting. Not that he was easy to miss usually, Madara admitted with an inward sigh, eyes lingering on the wild white hair and brilliant ruby eyes, broad shoulders and lean muscle clear under the light fabric of his shirt.

Tobirama drew a breath, meeting his eyes. “Madara-”

What?” Madara snapped, his own voice loud in response. “What do you want with me?”

Tobirama was silent for a moment and Madara wondered if he would draw out whatever it was from spite at Madara’s questioning him.

“Madara, I love you.”

Madara’s eyes widened and his jaw nearly dropped. Tobirama hadn’t shouted those words, but they carried to every corner of the plaza all the same - and any eye that hadn’t been fixed on him, on them, before certainly was now. Tobirama didn’t falter or flush, holding Madara’s gaze; he didn’t voice anything further, but Madara could see you’re important to me in his eyes, and the ache and uncertainty that had made him snap at his lover a dozen times or more recently . . . dissolved.

Madara hadn’t asked for this - wouldn’t have asked for this, even if he had wished their relationship was a little less quiet - but- That Tobirama had done it, loud and confident and open, crushed any niggling doubts Madara’s heart had harboured about his lover’s own.

“Tobirama. . .” Madara continued blocking out the murmurs all around him, shock and speculation. “Come here.”

Tobirama smiled and stepped off the wall, and in a breath he was at Madara’s side. He met Madara’s gaze again, steady and . . . hopeful.

“I love you too. Idiot.” Madara said, his own voice much quieter, and reached up to drag his lover down into a fierce, declaratory kiss.

Chapter Text

Tobirama smiled fondly at his lover, relaxed all but into a puddle at his side, wild hair sleek and smooth for a rarity after all the time Tobirama had spent on it tonight. Madara’s eyes were still open, but the deep black was slightly glazed and Tobirama suspected he was most of the way to falling asleep already.

That was all right; Tobirama had wanted him to relax, fully for once, and to lavish attention and affection on him. Madara was a devoted partner, often going out of his way to provide care and comfort for Tobirama, and sometimes he had to go to some lengths to be allowed to return the doting care.

“By far worth it, though, you stubborn man.” Tobirama said softly, pressing a kiss to Madara’s shoulder as he settled on his side next to his lover. He smoothed a hand down Madara’s back, over his hair, sleek and heavy. “I love you.” he murmured on a sigh as he watched Madara’s eyes finally close.

Chapter Text

Tobirama had been cautious as he entered his own house, and the dark and stillness of it as he searched every room had not eased his mind. Nor did the still dark of the bedroom, where he finally found his lover.

“Madara?” Tobirama said gently, and the heap of blankets stirred, shifting outwards on one side. He took it as an invitation and carefully insinuated himself under the heavy blankets without lifting them any further than he had to, moving close to Madara and finding him shuddering and struggling to breathe.

Tobirama hummed softly and petted him through it as he tried to speak several times, then gave up and merely gasped ragged breaths.

“I love you.” Madara said roughly when he finally spoke, and Tobirama’s heart clenched painfully. He stroked Madara’s side gently, and let himself be moved when Madara reached out and pulled, drawing him in and clinging fiercely, arms around his waist.

“I know, my heart.” Tobirama said softly, reaching out blind in the dark, close space under the blankets and stroking Madara’s face. He closed his eyes, wincing, as his fingers brushed over tear tracks. “I love you too, very much. I,” he paused, “I cannot imagine my life without you in it . . . in the way I have you now.”

Madara swallowed audibly, tucking his wet face against Tobirama’s neck. “I cannot either.” he admitted, his voice raw. “I feel as though I should never- But I could never give you up, and the thought of refusing you, refusing my own. . .” He made a pained, choked sound, curling in on himself, and Tobirama squirmed just enough to get his arms free and wrap them around his lover in return.

“I only want you to be happy,” Tobirama said, and then, because he could not but be honest with the man who held his heart, “and for you to be mine.”

Madara laughed brokenly into his shoulder. “That I shall always be.” he said, a little easier. “No Uchiha could deny their heart when it calls so strongly as mine does for you.”

Tobirama hugged his lover harder, his throat achily tight.

“I- I hope that Izu would . . . understand that.” Madara said softly, as though speaking his brother’s name with too little care would shatter him.

“He was as Uchiha as you,” Tobirama said delicately, pausing to swallow against the lump in his throat, “and at least as passionately driven. I know he loved you fiercely. I hope. . .”

“I, too.” Madara agreed when Tobirama couldn’t finish. “And- I am happy . . . much of the time.”

“I am glad.” Tobirama said, and hoped that Izuna had loved his brother enough that he, too, would be glad of it . . . no matter how it had come about.

Chapter Text

“Ah, the ship!” Mito declared, and Tobirama nodded, swallowing down the sudden thrum of excitement as the other ship - it had been deemed ‘most appropriate’ to sail out to meet the newest illustrious guests - drew nearer.

Tobirama could now make out some of those aboard, as the ships began to close with one another. Hashirama, looking almost properly put-together, though his hair was whipped about by the ocean winds and looked uncharacteristically messy. Isamu, looking rather the worse for wear generally - he’d never liked the water much and the sea didn’t seem to be agreeing with him any better than Tobirama would have expected - not far from Hashirama.

Madara, looking quite characteristically messy with his wild hair and robes billowing around him. Then he blurred, and Tobirama startled an instant before Madara appeared on the deck before him, suddenly there, solid and hot and-

Tobirama moaned and swayed as Madara kissed him hard, dragging him in until they were pressed bodily together. He returned the kiss fiercely as soon as he caught up with Madara’s sudden presence in his space, head spinning.

“Well I love you too. . .” Tobirama said, gasping for breath, clinging to Madara’s shoulders to steady himself as they broke apart, feeling slightly dazed. “Have you missed me?” he asked, not quite able to quash his grin.

He had missed Madara terribly, and felt silly for it - he was a grown man, and he was quite content with his lover and secure in the man’s affections, being apart for a time should not have bothered him so. After such thoughts it was . . . pleasant to be so enthusiastically greeted.

“Not at all.” Madara said huffily, sliding one hand over the small of Tobirama’s back, pulling him in - as though there was any way he would try to pull away. “I hardly noticed you were gone and then it was only by the lack of sniping and explosions.”

“Mm, I myself did notice rather less ringing in my ears from incensed shrieking.” Tobirama countered lightly, leaning into Madara’s solid body and unable to quite hold back the little purr that built in his throat.

Madara growled at Tobirama, teeth bared, but his embrace didn’t so much as loosen.

Tobirama stifled the urge to laugh. He brought one hand up and toyed with the long bit of Madara’s fringe that was continually falling into his face, feeling buoyant and almost giddy.

“So this is Uchiha Madara, I gather,” Mito said, and Tobirama coughed quietly, “I feel I already know you, Madara-sama.” she added, her voice touched with playfulness - though Tobirama only recognised it from the weeks he had spent in her company.

“Mito, my partner, Madara; Madara,” Tobirama gently tugged his lover’s hair, “a new friend and our ally, Uzumaki Mito, Uzushio no Hime.”

Chapter Text

“Don’t look at me like that!” Madara sputtered, and Tobirama cocked his head curiously, stirred from his reviewing of lesson plans for the new Academy. He extended his senses, because he hadn’t heard anyone else enter. . .

There was no one, only Madara . . . and the small flares of two of his ninneko. Tobirama stifled laughter, a smile tugging at his lips. He made a note of his place and put the lesson plans down, rising and going to the door, peeking through quietly.

Madara was lounging on the couch, with one cat cuddled up against his chest, against his arm - truly a fearsome creature solely meant as a partner for battle, nothing at all like a pet, as Tobirama knew she would declare firmly herself - and a second perched upon one bent knee, staring at him.

Tobirama leaned against the doorframe, watching, fondly amused, as Madara argued with his ninneko, both of them interjecting sharp little comments but purring and twining themselves close to him all the while. Madara doted upon them like the spoilt pets they truly weren’t, and the felines basked in his affectionate attention.

Tobirama could hardly blame them. He rather basked in Madara’s affectionate attentions, as well, when they were on offer . . . which was most of the time.

He pushed off the doorframe and went to go find his own place with his lover and the ninneko, smiling when they all looked up at him, Madara with a warm, welcoming expression and the cats with assessing, tolerant eyes. They were, at least, willing to share.

Chapter Text

“Is that actually helping you think?” Madara asked tiredly, tipping his head against the arm of the couch and watching Tobirama pace irregular circles around the room.

“Hm?” Tobirama responded vaguely, and Madara suspected his lover had clocked the sound of his voice but not the actual words.

“Are you actually thinking better on your feet?” Madara repeated, rubbing his face and then dropping his hand again, rolling his neck and looking back at Tobirama. “Or are you just . . . stuck?”

“Oh. No. And no. I’m only. . .” Tobirama stopped, looking a little blank. He swayed, and turned towards Madara, brows drawing together.

“Come here.” Madara coaxed gently, holding out one arm, and Tobirama hesitated, then crossed the room to him, slipping his hand into Madara’s outstretched one. He let himself be tugged down to settle on top of Madara, and he hummed approvingly, squeezing Tobirama’s hand and petting down his back, cuddling him closer and nuzzling his cheek. “Can I help?” Madara asked.

Tobirama sighed, practically melting atop Madara as he continued to pet his lover. “I think . . . I need to let it go for today.” he admitted, tucking his head down against Madara’s neck.

“Distraction?” Madara asked, trailing his fingers up to Tobirama’s neck, rubbing gently. “I can do that, too.”

Tobirama hummed and gave a soft laugh. “You can, indeed. I. . . I am too tired.” he said ruefully.

Madara raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So am I.” he admitted. “I didn’t mean in that way. Although I will keep that in mind the next time you refuse to be stirred from your lab at a sensible time. . .”

Tobirama huffed, but he only snuggled more closely into Madara’s arms. He hummed and stroked down his lover’s spine again, raising their linked hands a little as he rubbed his thumb over Tobirama’s wrist.

Chapter Text

Please, Tobi. . .”

Tobirama sighed, resting a hand on his brother’s brow. “All right, all right. . .” he agreed, sitting back on his heels and scrubbing the back of his wrist against his cheek. “I’ll go. And I’ll tell your friend, and make sure he’s safe.”

“Thank you, Tobi.” Hashirama said, looking particularly pathetic, not entirely due to his fever.

“Hush.” Tobirama said gently, tucking his brother in again. He still thought the friendship was foolish, but. . . But it made his Anija happy, had made him seem hopeful again. And he had trusted in Tobirama about it. . . And he knew what their father would do if he were to find out.

It was easy enough, now, anyway, for Tobirama to keep an ‘eye’ on Hashirama from the compound or out on patrol. Hashirama’s steady, bright, almost migraine-inducing chakra signature and the scorching, mercurial flare of the other.

Tobirama focused on searching out that signature now, as he slipped out of the compound - easy; no one challenged Tobirama’s comings and goings - and headed for the river.

He made it there before his brother’s friend, unsurprisingly, and settled in the heavy branches of a tree that dipped low over the river to wait. He curled up comfortably, closing his eyes, letting the river’s flow beneath him bring him calm, though he stayed alert.

He stirred when the powerful heat of his brother’s friend came near, peeking out. He’d heard about the other boy, and felt his chakra, but never seen him. He was pale, with wild black hair and a round face just beginning to show a broadening jawline. He was cute, which. . . Tobirama was suddenly glad Hashirama had never said, because he would have, had he noticed.

Tobirama slipped out of his hiding place and dropped down to stand on the river, and the boy tensed, jet black eyes narrowing. Tobirama eyed his spiky hair - for a moment he would have sworn it was bristling around the boy’s shoulders, like an angry cat’s tail.

“Madara?” Tobirama said quickly. “Hashirama sent me; he’s my Anija. He’s . . . ill. And an idiot,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, then raised his voice again, “and he didn’t want you to think he was ignoring you.”

“Idiot.” Madara said under his breath, relaxing slightly, then cocked his head. “You’re his brother?” he asked, and Tobirama stiffened. “You don’t look much alike.”

“Not at all.” Tobirama agreed, looking away.

“I don’t know, you both kind of have the same pout.” Madara laughed, and Tobirama huffed, glaring up at him, only to startle as Madara approached him, walking out onto the river. “You- . . .you have red eyes.” he barely breathed the words, his half-smile fading.

“Yes.” Tobirama spat, entirely too familiar with the uneasy looks and ugly words that his appearance drew. “Look, I-”

“They’re beautiful.” Madara said, his expression shifting with something startlingly near awe, and Tobirama choked, eyes widening.

Madara’s cheeks pinked slightly, but he took another few steps closer.

Chapter Text

“What do you think?” Madara asked, moving close at his back, hands sliding over his hips lightly.

Tobirama shivered, turning his head to look at Madara. “I still think your Clan is crazy,” he said, but glanced up at the sky, filled with fading smoke and spiralling sparks, “but . . . it was gorgeous.” he admitted.

Madara hummed, arms half-tentatively moving to curl around Tobirama. His breath caught even as he turned - snow crunching beneath his feet - to face Madara. “On the other hand,” he said, another shiver running through him as he resisted the sudden urge to plaster himself against Madara in a rather embarrassing fashion only partly due to his warmth, “if they all run as warm as you do, I can see why it wouldn’t bother you all to celebrate this way.”

Madara laughed, looking startled, and hugged Tobirama closer. The bastard wasn’t even wearing anything more than he did in more reasonable weather and temperatures, save for heavier shoes. And he was so warm.

“Well,” Madara said, rubbing Tobirama’s back, up under his heavy outer haori, “perhaps not so much as me, no. But enough that it isn’t entirely unpleasant.”

“Delightful.” Tobirama huffed, tucking his hands up against Madara’s chest, near the cowled neck of his shirt. “Just me out here being frozen, then.” He raised his eyes to meet Madara’s once more, making sure his playful intent was read, and Madara was smiling crookedly at him. “It was beautiful. Thank you.”

Madara nodded vaguely, hugging Tobirama a little closer. “Tobirama. . .”

“Mm?” Tobirama gave in and pressed closer to him - it wasn’t as though Madara was going to judge him for it, and he could blame it on being cold later in any case, and none of Madara’s clan were even close enough to really see them.

“May I kiss you?” Madara asked, and Tobirama startled, eyes widening. “That is, if I-”

“Yes.” Tobirama interrupted, fingers curling into Madara’s collar. “I mean- Yes, Madara.” he encouraged, and smiled, tugging gently. “Please.”

Madara tipped his head and leaned up, eyes open until the moment their lips met. Closing his own eyes, Tobirama gave a little sigh and let his hand slip around to the nape of Madara’s neck. Madara’s lips were warm and a bit rough, probably more from the fire he breathed out almost as easily as air than the weather, and-

Tobirama shivered as Madara’s arm tightened around his waist, mouth slanting a little more firmly against his own, thoughts scattering. He found he didn’t mind, and merely pressed into Madara’s touch with pleasure.

Chapter Text

“All right, calm down.” Tobirama said, reaching up and looping an arm around Madara’s waist from behind. He leaned sideways against his lover’s back unsteadily, tightening his grip to keep from falling.

Madara’s chakra spiked, and the sharp metallic tingle made Tobirama want to curl up and rest, secure under Madara’s watchful attention, though normally it made him want to purr . . . among other things. He was too weak with the toxins thick in his system to truly want anything but to let his body give out, right now.

Tobirama tugged lightly at Madara’s shirt, barely managing to curl his fingers into the fabric and hold on. “Please.” he said softly, and kissed Madara’s back before slumping further against him. “I. . . I need you. They’re dead or gone already. Please.”

Madara snarled, but he turned in the circle of Tobirama’s arm, nearly sending him toppling off the rock sat on with the sudden lack of support. “I will find them again.” Madara said, low and harsh, and Tobirama nodded vaguely.

Madara stroked his cheek and then rested a hand lightly right alongside the bloody wound that would be far less troublesome if he weren’t dizzy with the poison it had introduced. “What do you need? What can I do?” Madara asked, his chakra buzzing with anxiety he didn’t show otherwise.

“Just. Home.” Tobirama supplied, his vision fading in and out now in a way that he suspected distantly would be worrying if his head were more together. “Hospital. Not. There’s not. Anything. You can do.” he managed, focusing very hard on the words.

Madara snarled again, and Tobirama really wanted to be able to shiver at the rough rumble, but he just made a vague noise that had been intended to be soothing. From the tone of Madara’s muttering, it missed that aim.

Madara scooped him up, exceedingly gentle around his injuries. “Home. I can do that.” he said, and warm lips pressed to Tobirama’s brow soothingly. “Hold on, love. Try and think. I’ll get you home and safe.” he promised, and Tobirama faded out as he began running.

Chapter Text

Tobirama hummed, curling his fingers into the fabric under his palm and stretching a little, tucking himself closer to the solid warmth at his side. He hummed contentedly.

“Mm, where are you going?”

Tobirama shivered at the rough little purr, nudging just a little more firmly against Madara’s shoulder and sliding his hand up until his fingertips rested just at the base of Madara’s throat. Madara laughed, voice as low and throaty as it had been when he spoke, and Tobirama’s fingers thrummed with it.

“Nowhere?” Madara asked, and Tobirama shifted a little, puzzled for a moment until- Ah.

“Mm. . . Warm.” Tobirama supplied vaguely. He was - warm and wonderfully comfortable, and while he was distantly aware he should be rising soon, it seemed a very far off concern at the moment. Madara laughed again, and he moved under Tobirama’s arm. Tobirama grumbled wordlessly, but Madara only curled into him, arms wrapping around his waist, and pressed a sleep-clumsy kiss to his jaw.

Tobirama melted into his lover’s embrace, pushing aside any thoughts of getting up for just a little longer.

Madara rubbed his back, nuzzling his cheek with a lazy purr before settling down once more, the only movement his deep, even breaths and the occasional small stroke of his fingers. Tobirama curled his fingers into Madara’s sleep yukata once again and sighed, warm and lax with contentment.

Chapter Text

“Where is Tobirama-sama?”

“He should have been here almost half an hour ago!”

Hashirama listened to several more exclamations and flapped his hands. “I’m sure everything is fine!” he assured everyone, loudly, when they wouldn’t be quiet. He was a little uneasy himself - no one knew his brother’s work ethic the way he did, for one - but he was also well aware that anything that could harm his brother enough to keep him from work without sending notice would . . . most likely have been unmistakable.

Not least because between them Tobirama and Madara could create quite the disaster of any space in which they found themselves, be it meeting room, battlefield, or anything in between.

Eventually Hashirama managed to shoo everyone else away and informed them of course they would be called back when Tobirama had time for their planned meeting. It wasn’t his fault they’d had to postpone it yesterday, and no one had told them to be here so early today to reschedule it. Or indeed to show up in person at all before notice of the new meeting time would be sent. Hashirama huffed a little as the last of them finally filed out.

Finally left in peace, he attempted to work himself, but. . . As the morning wore on. . .

Hashirama eyed the sky out the window with a little more concern, mind on his brother, then startled as Tobirama abruptly appeared in it, sliding through into his office. “Good morning, Anija.” he said, looking quite his usual self, although-

“You’re two hours late!” Hashirama cried, leaping up from his desk, and Tobirama flushed, the warm, lazy look to his eyes fleeing immediately - Hashirama felt guilty just as quickly, and bit his lip. “Are you all right?” he asked, a little quieter, as he hurried to his brother’s side.

“I’m- Yes, of course.” Tobirama said, shaking his head. “I am . . . very sorry for my lateness, Anija. It was- That is. . .” He cleared his throat. “Everything is quite all right, I was merely . . . delayed. Was there any trouble?” he asked, frowning.

Hashirama thought of the squabbling and shouting filling his office, the resistance he’d had to argue down to get them out again, then of the soft look on Tobirama’s face as he slipped in the window, and the relaxed set of his shoulders even now. “No, of course not.” he said fondly. “We need you terribly of course but we can survive without you when you’ve other things to do, or- or something!”

“. . .very well.” Tobirama said slowly. “I’ll just be getting to work then.”

“Good!” Hashirama said, hugging him tight for a moment. “Take late mornings sometimes if they make you happy, Tobi, all right?” he added quietly before turning Tobirama loose and allowing him, looking a little flustered, to dart off to his own office.

Chapter Text

“Konbanwa.” Tobirama greeted, leaning around the knife Madara held to kiss his cheek.

Madara leaned back a little and tilted his head, taking a proper kiss. Tobirama hummed with pleasure as he drew away again, the tension around his mouth easing a little. “Konbanwa.” Madara replied, voice low. “How was your day?” he asked, as though they hadn’t crossed paths repeatedly.

“Anija was insufferable.” Tobirama huffed, sliding down into a chair at the table and looking out the window. “So were a dozen other people.” He made a disgusted sound.

“Oh?” Madara asked, grateful that turning to tip the daikon into the waiting pan kept his face turned away from his lover, because he was positive he wasn’t keeping his reaction from his face.

“I was late this morning.” Tobirama said with another huff. “Everyone is late sometimes! Why was it a panic? Why was it so stunning?”

“Because you are never late to work, my darling.” Madara pointed out, amused, turning back towards Tobirama and leaning back against the counter beside the stove.

“Yes. Well.” Tobirama muttered, clearing his throat. “I . . . was distracted this morning.”

“And for one brief, shining moment,” Madara said, lips twitching, “I was higher on the list of priorities and more engrossing than work!”

The pan rattled and Madara went back to it, humming absently. He startled as Tobirama’s hand slid over his side, tipping his head to meet a surprisingly serious expression. “Tobirama?” he questioned, concerned.

“You. . .” Tobirama’s frown grew. “You know. . . That is,” he paused, “you don’t truly feel that is so uncommon, do you?” he asked, and Madara blinked. “You know you’re important to me, that you- that work-” he broke off awkwardly, faintly pink.

Madara relaxed, smiling. “Oh, darling.” He laughed softly, putting his spoon down across the pan and turning to tug Tobirama into his arms. “I know. I love you too.” he half-nuzzled the words into Tobirama’s ear. “Only . . . I can’t help but be a little pleased, knowing that you would rather have stayed in bed with me, in my arms, than your usual morning and the . . . efficient trip off to work.”

“Hm.” Tobirama pressed closer to him. “I think you underestimate how often I would rather be in your arms than anywhere else, whatever I truly do.” he said softly, and kissed Madara’s throat just below his ear. Madara shivered, eyes wide, even as Tobirama drew back, giving him a fond smile, cheeks still a faint rosy shade.

Chapter Text

“Come here you little menace!” Madara shouted just as Tobirama was coming in to land on the unroofed part of the engawa, and his brows rose.

A moment later Kagami burst out the door, giggling, and Tobirama stifled a laugh. He stepped forwards and caught Kagami by the collar, however, hauling him back, his wings flapping madly.

“And what have you been up to, fledge?” Tobirama asked archly as he settled Kagami against his side, snapping his own wings out once to settle them, then folding them neatly as he walked into the house.

“Nothing!” Kagami protested, but he was still giggling a little.

“Kagami! What have- Ah, Tobi. Welcome home.” Madara said, looking a little thrown.

“Thank you, hello. What did he do?” Tobirama asked, bouncing Kagami against his hip, feeling the fledgling’s wings flutter in response.

“I didn’t do it!” Kagami protested.

“My desk! My office! Papers everywhere! Week of work to straighten everything- What do you mean you didn’t do it?” Madara narrowed his eyes, and Kagami stuck his tongue out at his clan head.

Tobirama brought one of his wings around to hide the lower half of his face with the wrist joint.

“Izuna-sama was in your office! He said he was gonna help, and Hikaku-sama said he shouldn’t but Izuna-sama made him go away!” Kagami said, huffing and rolling his eyes. Madara glared at Tobirama; he was possibly not smothering his laughter well enough in his own feathers. Certainly not subtly enough. “I only went in because you promised I could get a closer look at your gunbai, Mada-shisou, and you never showed me, but Izuna-sama left the door unlocked. . .”

Madara huffed and grumbled as he made his way across to them, feathers fluffed up, and Tobirama shook his head, amused.

“Then I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Madara said, still sounding rather surly.

“It’s okay, Mada-shishou!” Kagami said, leaning away from Tobirama towards Madara, who caught him easily, wings coming around with a quick, instinctive snap.

“I imagine Izuna will be getting an earful, however.” Tobirama observed evenly, making a playful face at Kagami as he wriggled, spreading his little wings. Tobirama spread his own, then curled them down, fitting them easily against Madara’s and closing the boy between their bodies.

Madara shivered, his expression softening, and shifted to match him, stepping a little closer and smoothing a hand over Kagami’s wings to encourage him to tuck them away.

He made a piping little sound of glee and folded his wings around himself, caught between their arms and surrounded by their layered wings.

Chapter Text

“I need to talk to you.”

Tobirama looked at Izuna warily, inclining his head. He gestured to the chairs opposite his desk, and Izuna closed the door and took his place in one of them.

“What can I do for you?” Tobirama asked, prepared for a sharp comment, whether or not Izuna actually needed something from him in his official capacity.

“I need to talk to you about some important things . . . about looking after my brother.” Izuna said, eyes narrowing a little and mouth tight. Tobirama blinked, resisting the impulse to shift awkwardly in his chair.

Izuna settled himself more firmly and Tobirama braced himself for what Izuna was going to say, what the hell. . .

“A lot of people think he’s tough and he stands alone because he’s strong, and he is, but he doesn’t like being alone.” Izuna said, and Tobirama’s eyes widened slightly. “He needs company and he needs the people he cares for close. He loves to cuddle and it’ll make him happy if you curl up with him no matter what you’re doing.”

Tobirama stared a little. Izuna cleared his throat, taking a deep breath and meeting Tobirama’s eyes again. “Right.” Tobirama said softly. Izuna huffed shallowly.

“He gets really worked up over dealing with the elders sometimes - they’re awful, I don’t know what yours are like,” Izuna said, rubbing his face; probably similar, Tobirama suspected, though he spent a fair amount of time keeping his brother from simply ignoring them and crushing their objections and possibly their persons, “when he gets like that and just won’t let it go and it stresses him out remind him it’s okay to take a break; that he should. Distract him with something nicer for a while.”

Tobirama almost said something - about the elders, about distractions, about Madara - but he kept himself quiet, and Izuna continued.

“He can get overbearing sometimes, especially when he’s worried,” Izuna said, rolling his eyes, “but when he’s upset nothing will calm him down faster than letting him take care of you, even if he fusses.”

Tobirama swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling a little tight. He nodded a little.

“Aniki’s very tactile,” Izuna glared, “don’t be standoffish with him, let him touch you even when you’re not,” he waved a hand, “or he’ll be upset. You can’t be cold with him.”

Tobirama frowned at the implication.

“His hair;” Izuna continued without waiting, “people think he’ll be really picky about it or ignore it entirely and he doesn’t . . . but he’ll love it if you brush it for him, or just play with it. He won’t say it, but he does.”

Tobirama pressed his lips together and nodded as Izuna continued through several other points and instructions, some things he had already noted and some he had not, all of them . . . very sweet.

Izuna cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m still not even sure I like you,” he said, his frown a little closer to a pout, “but . . . Aniki goes all soft whenever he even talks about you, you can make him happy, and I want him happy . . . so please . . . take care of him.”

“I will.” Tobirama said softly. “I promise. He . . . makes me happy, too.”

Izuna huffed, crossing his arms and sinking a little deeper in his chair, but he nodded jerkily.

Chapter Text

“Madara, I- I’m so sorry.” Hashirama said, swallowing awkwardly. “I can’t- The elders have finally agreed, everyone has, but. . .”

Madara eyed his friend. “But . . . what?” he asked carefully. They had both been arguing with their respective clans, particularly the council of elders on either side, for the weeks since the ceasefire had been signed - both determined to push through a true peace.

“They- They want. . .” Hashirama looked miserable as he visibly steeled himself to continue. Tobirama’s faint smirk over his brother’s shoulder was . . . not reassuring. “They insist on an alliance marriage before they say they can trust in the peace between us.”

Blood roared in Madara’s ears. “No.” he said numbly, confident at least in that his first reaction could be uncensored, here, alone with Hikaku - who would betray nothing, ever, of Madara’s secrets - and the Senju brothers. “No, I-”

“It has to be you. It’s not . . . enough if it’s not the head family, and it can’t be me,” Hashirama looked genuinely regretful, “I have the Uzumaki contract to fulfil. They- They’ve already- If you can’t. . .”

“I’ll- I’ll . . . what do they want.” Madara ground out, fingers curling into the fabric over his thighs. This peace was important, damn it, even if. . . Even if Madara’s Uchiha heart was screaming. Even to consider. . .

“They- It will only work you see, if-” Hashirama stumbled over his words until his brother rested a hand on his shoulder. Tobirama looked calm, his eyes not unsympathetic but that fucking smirk still clinging to his lips.

Madara almost missed Hashirama’s next words. In fact he must have.

“What did you say?” Madara demanded, and Hashirama flinched. Tobirama squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“They- It has to be Tobi. Tobirama.” Hashirama said softly.

Madara’s eyes snapped up to meet a solemn blood red gaze. Tobirama’s brows rose. Madara looked back at Hashirama’s nervous, apologetic face. “I’ll do it.” he said roughly, hearing Hikaku choke at his side. He reached out and clasped Hikaku’s arm - a little tighter than he’d intended - to quiet him when he cried Madara’s name.

“I’ll do it.” Madara repeated, and looked warily back up at Tobirama.

Tobirama smiled.

Chapter Text

Madara tilted his head, relaxing slightly as he felt the air in the room shift. “Did they really- And they don’t know?” he asked, still not quite able to believe what had been pushed upon him today.

Tobirama’s fingers wound through his hair, gently tugging his head back and pressing an upside-down kiss on his brow. “You know they don’t actually want Anija to be able to work this out with you. I am quite possibly the most despised Senju amongst your clan, as is widely known,” Tobirama said, idly stroking Madara’s hair, fingertips brushing his temple, “what better option to further weigh down the already harsh requirement that you accept an arranged marriage when it is well known Uchiha don’t?”

Madara shook his head slightly, looking around and tugging at Tobirama.

He made his way around the couch and settled at Madara’s side, curling into him with a soft, contented purr that was as familiar as the way his hands felt in Madara’s hair, or the brush of his restless, deep chakra. Madara pulled him into a soft kiss, too relieved to resist the impulse to drag Tobirama closer.

Although. . .

He bit Tobirama’s lip sharply, making him yelp. “Not a hint, just that stupid smirk while your brother was making me think- While I thought-” Thought he’d have to choose between keeping Tobirama, keeping his heart, and settling peace for his people.

“Anija delayed rather more than I anticipated.” Tobirama kissed him again, gentler. “I am sorry.”

Madara shook his head. He was too relieved, too happy, to be truly angry - at least not with his lover. He wrapped his arms around Tobirama and rested his head on Tobirama’s shoulder.

Chapter Text

“I’m- I just- I’m so sorry you have to do this, Tobi. . .” Hashirama was nearly whining, and Madara felt a little sorry for him, knowing he’d been pushed into this by his own council of elders, but mostly Madara was still angry that his best friend, who should have known how important marriage, love, truth in both, were to an Uchiha, to Madara. . . That he had been willing to push Madara into this.

“Stop and be quiet before someone hears you.” Tobirama said sharply. “It’s my wedding day, Anija, remember? Don’t spoil the occasion.”

“What there is to be spoiled.” Madara said venomously as he came around the corner.

Tobirama’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, and there was a flash of a smirk before his face went ice calm. “Indeed.” he agreed flatly.

Hashirama wailed and they both glared at him. He was soon swept off to prepare for the . . . occasion, however, taking Tobirama with him. He and Madara would see one another again only once they were before the priest. Too late to get away . . . in theory.

Madara let Izuna and Hikaku draw him off to be prepared himself. There was some fretting, but Madara patted them and mostly ignored it, his mind already leaping ahead.

Chapter Text

Madara locked eyes with Tobirama, fire licking through his veins, his heart pounding eagerly, as he lifted the third cup and sipped from it, the fine sake tingling - apples and the heat of alcohol - on his tongue.

Tobirama’s lips twitched. He took the cup from Madara’s hand and raised it himself, eyes closing as he took his own sip. He lowered it slowly, then set it aside as the priest spoke the final words to seal the wedding, but with that. . .

Madara lunged, hands curling into Tobirama’s haori, and his lips tilted into a smirk as he twisted, quick as lightning, and pressed himself up against Madara, one hand sinking into his hair and the other catching his belt. Madara growled softly and kissed his husband hard.

Tobirama purred, arching in Madara’s arms, pulling his hair gently and biting at his mouth rather less gently, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Madara was faintly aware of the priest making little shocked - possibly offended - noises, and an array of gasps and yelps from their assembled audience.

He didn’t let it stop him from wrapping his arms around his husband, one hand sliding down Tobirama’s body - the left, the side nearer the priest - to his ass. Tobirama laughed against his mouth, warm and rich with pleasure, his eyes sparkling as they locked gazes.

Tobirama pulled Madara’s hair again and dragged him back in for another long, deep kiss, and Madara hummed a laugh as he heard the cheers he would usually expect at an Uchiha wedding erupt from his clearly now-delighted clan.

Madara hummed thoughtfully as their lips parted again, smoothing his hands over Tobirama’s waist, and raised his eyebrows. Tobirama raised one of his own in response, smiling slightly, then rolled his eyes and shrugged minutely.

Madara hauled him in close and bent him back, kissing from his mouth down to his throat, pushing the formal haori aside and biting a possessive mark into the pale curve of Tobirama’s neck and shoulder. Tobirama’s hand tangled tighter in his hair as his husband moaned, even when Madara brought them back up, laughing breathlessly.

The Uchiha cheered just that little bit louder, and Madara was mostly certain he’d just heard someone let off a celebratory katon. Which would explain the further yelps of surprise from the Senju side of the gathering. He grinned at his husband, caressing his jaw and brushing a fingertip over his slightly swollen lower lip, curved into a bright smile.

Chapter Text

Madara woke tense, nerves singing with- He froze as he extended his senses, flooding them with chakra. Only Tobirama was near, and his usually calm - if alarmingly chill and deep - chakra was wild, but turned . . . inwards?

Madara realised he could smell tears, and his eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up silently, looking over the two steps to Tobirama’s bedroll. He was curled on his side, his back to Madara, and he was silent but he was shaking.

It took a few moments of staring to quite . . . grasp the idea. It had to be him crying, there was no one else. . . Madara shook his head, then rose and crept closer. “Sen- Tobirama?” he said softly, going to one knee at Tobirama’s back.

He tensed, half twisting into an attack, the gleam of a kunai in his hand, then- Stopped. Curled back into himself. “Go back to sleep, Madara.” he said, his voice even but too thick and too wet to quite pass as normal.

Madara tentatively put a hand on his back. “What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling Tobirama go tense as steel under his palm. “Did you take an injury?” He doubted it; Tobirama had been moving well and crying from pain seemed unlikely.

“The- The boy.” Tobirama said thickly. Madara winced. Neither of them had been responsible for his death today, but the boy. . . “He- Kawarama-” he broke off. “It’s fine. Old memories. Go back to sleep, we have a long way back to Konoha in the morning.”

Madara knew that name, and he bit his lip, looking down at Tobirama. He’d never so much as seen either of the younger Senju brothers himself, and Hashirama . . . spoke of them very little, save in vague terms, even when they had been children.

It had somehow never occurred to him that Tobirama had lost his brothers too. He felt rather awful for the thought. He idly rubbed Tobirama’s back in a soothing gesture, and didn’t realise what he was doing until Tobirama’s breath caught and he sobbed thinly.

Madara’s eyes prickled, and before he had quite thought it through, he shifted closer, until he was making contact with Tobirama down most of their bodies, and wrapped an arm around him. Tobirama shuddered, stiffening, and Madara hummed softly against his shoulder.

He didn’t apologise - he hadn’t brought it up, and no manner of apology would bring back Tobirama’s lost brothers - but he didn’t move away, either. Tobirama slowly relaxed, though it took longer for his tears to stop, and eased into Madara’s hold, resting one of his hands over Madara’s on his ribs.

He squeezed reassuringly, only a little surprised when Tobirama nudged into him in response. Madara remained where he was, settling a little more easily at Tobirama’s back and offering what comfort the embrace might, humming softly from time to time until he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Madara huffed and winced as he pressed his wings tight to his body, not quite folded correctly but impossible to get sitting right while he was suffering the buffeting of the heavy spring winds. He picked up his pace, relieved to reach his own door, and swiftly let himself in, relaxing a bit once it was closed behind him.

He took a moment to loosen the way he held his wings, smoothing the few places where a feather had been bent painfully out of line, then resettled them comfortably at his back. He tensed as he heard a soft, pained cry, and strode deeper into the house. “Tobi?”

“In here.” Tobirama’s voice came from the smaller family space on the other side of the main room, and Madara was there in a moment. He pulled up short.

Kagami was huddled on Tobirama’s lap by the irori, his - finally almost fully fledged - wings a mess of feathers going every which way, a few cracked and loose, and the remaining down puffed up messily around them. He cried again, quiet, as Tobirama had to wrench one of his flight feathers rather firmly to get it pointed the right way again.

Tobirama crooned, his own wings sweeping close around Kagami in comfort as he smoothed the boy’s hair. Madara swallowed thickly, watching his lover coddle their ward with soft murmurs and croons and gentle touches. His heart turned over and clenched. Madara took a shallow breath and started moving again, joining them in the plush cushions. Tobirama’s left wing pulled back enough to allow him nearer.

“What happened?” Madara asked, reaching out to Kagami’s closer wing and gently running his fingers between the feathers on the leading edge.

“Hi Mada-shishou.” Kagami said, uncharacteristically downcast. He twitched and keened again softly as Tobirama continued preening his wings back into their proper condition. “I . . . made a mistake.”

“Our little fledge thought he could surely fly home today.” Tobirama said crisply, as Madara’s jaw dropped. He had thought better of flying today, with the haru-ichiban trying to carry off everything not heavy enough to resist.

“Kagami!” Madara said, shaking his head, and Kagami’s head ducked lower.

He sighed, rubbing the boy’s back and extending his left wing around Kagami’s back, careful of the irori behind him. “I’m glad you’re all right. It could have been much worse than this.” he said, bending to press a kiss to the top of Kagami’s head.

“Yes, Mada-shishou.” Kagami said, obediently lowering his wing at a nudge from Tobirama.

“He has already promised to be more careful in future.” Tobirama said, and shifted them both, turning towards Madara, though he didn’t let Kagami slip from his lap.

“Yes, Tobira-sensei.” Kagami said, shivering as Madara stroked his back, then turned his attention to righting the fledge’s ruffled and disarranged feathers as well.

Chapter Text

“Be safe.” Tobirama said softly, smoothing his fingers along Madara’s jaw, then dropping both hands to cup his neck.

“I will.” Madara said easily, tilting his head. “See you when I return.” He stepped closer, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss, then wrapping an arm around Tobirama to rest his hand low on Tobirama’s back as he returned for a deeper kiss.

They pulled apart after long moments, and Tobirama ran his fingers through Madara’s fringe, brushing it temporarily out of his face. Madara smiled slightly, nudging his cheek against his lover’s hand.

Tobirama leaned in and caught him in another kiss, making him purr throatily, then stepped back. “You should be going.”

“I should.” Madara agreed distractedly, and tugged Tobirama closer by his loose sash.

He came easily, meeting Madara with an embrace and allowing him to claim another kiss, warm and lingering and deep. Tobirama was breathless when Madara finally broke away, his hands roaming Madara’s body, caresses finding the places his armour didn’t shield with familiar ease.

“I-” Madara began, only to be stifled by Tobirama tugging him into another kiss. He gave over easily, lingering, then rubbing their noses as they parted. “I have to go.”

“You do.” Tobirama kissed him lightly and then stepped back, pushing his hands away gently.

Madara sighed, taking up his gunbai from where he had leant it against the doorframe, and took one step before turning back and dragging Tobirama into a quick, hard kiss that made him groan. “Ja mata.” he said against Tobirama’s mouth, and forced himself away as Tobirama sagged against the same place his gunbai had rested.

Chapter Text

Madara hummed happily, fluttering his fingers through the rising magma and sending it surging up in another wave. The heat curled around him and filled his lungs, and he tilted his head back, breathing out a thick plume of warning smoke, spiralling from the caldera and beginning to spread.

It was little warning now, of course, with the eruption beginning, but Madara had been shuddering the ground and breathing smoke and sparks for days. If his people in the valley below hadn’t heeded his quite thorough warnings it was their own fault. Not that he thought his beloved Uchiha would be so foolish.

The Senju a little further away on the other side of his volcano . . . perhaps.

Madara frowned suddenly, eyes narrowing, and rose swiftly to the peak of the caldera, sliding out and-

There was steam filling the air, and plinking dark splotches forming faster than they should on the surface of the lava pouring down the slope below.

Tobirama!” Madara bellowed, with a great gout of lava erupting behind him, splashing to the slope and bleeding past his legs.

He stomped a few steps around the upper ridge of the caldera as he waited, and drew a breath to call again, when-

“You shrieked?” Tobirama drawled, and Madara whirled to find the dratted creature perched on a thick wisp of cloud, steam from the falling rain meeting the lava around them spiralling up to thicken it beneath him.

“You know why I called you!” Madara shouted, not bothering to argue the term.

Tobirama arched a cloud-white brow. “Do I?” he asked innocently, and Madara pointed at him.

“You do, you bastard!” Madara snapped, and Tobirama chuckled, that utter- bastard.

“Aw, but Madara,” Tobirama slipped off his cloud and put his feet down cautiously on the surface of the lava; it blackened and cracked beneath him rapidly, but Madara still frowned and gestured, pulling some of the heat from it, “you’re so cute when you’re all worked up like this.”

Madara jerked, stiffening, then scowled, shoulders slouching as he crossed his arms before him. “Stop teasing, you ass! And stop raining! I had this planned for weeks!” he huffed, though he found his heart wasn’t quite so in it any more.

“. . .I am sorry, if I upset you truly.” Tobirama said gently, and Madara hunched deeper, swallowing hard and refusing to look at him.

Until a soft brush of cool fingers ghosted over his cheek, and his head flew up, eyes meeting Tobirama’s - stunning red, red as embers, so strange for what he was. Madara opened his mouth, then closed it with a soft whine.

The rain began to ease around them, the clouds already drifting onwards. “You truly are, however,” Tobirama said, leaning closer and making Madara stiffen; he hesitated then brushed a kiss to Madara’s cheek, “so cute. . . And I love the patterns our elements make together.”

Madara was speechless, and Tobirama gave him a faint, sad smile, then dissolved into a swirl of water that steamed away immediately.



Madara squeaked and ducked his head, his hair fluffing up around him as the lava burned a little hotter.

Chapter Text

Madara jumped, twisting and trying to make out what he could by feel, several days - or possibly weeks, he had lost track of time quite badly - past trying to hide his reaction. There was silence save for a tiny, rough scraping sound, and Madara bit back a whimper, ducking his head, listening as hard as he could, nerves sharp with the ache of his attempts to feel what was around him.

A muffled thrum of a voice grown ever more familiar in this stone trap reached him even as the door ground shut, and Madara’s heart calmed a little. Tobirama pressed close to him and he cried beneath the blind - rough fabric and heavy stone bearing seals that felt like oil and poison on his skin - at the warmth and the touch of skin.

Tobirama stroked his arm and pressed clumsily close against his side, slanting his knee up and across Madara’s thigh. A part of Madara’s mind wailed a soft cry of alarm, because of all the many things Tobirama was, clumsy was never one.

The thought fled a moment later with-

“Madara.” Tobirama said, his voice rough. “Madara, here. Come here. I’m here.” he said, shoulder brushing Madara’s, bound hands stroking over his forearm and winding around one of Madara’s.

Tobirama’s hands were sticky with blood and his skin raw, Madara could feel it, and he tried to keep his hold gentle, for all that he needed it so desperately, but Tobirama clasped his hand tightly. Madara leaned into Tobirama hard, the only point of sensation in a starkly cold and black world.

Tobirama hummed, rough and sounding painful, pressing himself against Madara as fully as he could with his binds and the chains holding Madara to this scrap of floor.

“I’m here.” Tobirama said against his neck. “We’re here. We’re together.” he said, his voice rasping but steady as he spoke over and over, his voice a grounding point almost as much as his body against Madara’s.

Chapter Text

Tobirama flinched as he put weight on his hands to push himself to his feet, but he didn’t hesitate. He drew a lightweight yukata on over the loose pants he already wore, belting it with a strip of bandage as a makeshift sash, and stepped around his brother as Hashirama grabbed at him weakly, protesting.

“Tobi! You need to rest!” Hashirama followed after him as he walked out into the hospital corridor.

“Madara.” Tobirama said bluntly, senses flaring, and found him in an instant. Madara’s signature had always been one of the most distinctive he knew.

Hashirama’s face and voice both softened. “Madara is fine, Tobi. I’m . . . pleased that you would-”

Tobirama tuned him out, making his way through the hospital to Madara’s room. Madara was not fine, he knew, with no need to reach out his senses. He opened the door, stepping inside and finding Madara lying on his side with his back to the door, tense as steel.

“Madara is resting, as you should be, and while I’m glad you’re concerned for him, you being here-”

“Anija.” Tobirama sighed and shook his head, but didn’t say anything more to his brother as he crossed the room and rounded Madara’s bed. He caught Madara’s hand in both of his own, twining their fingers, and sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that his hip came to rest firmly against Madara’s legs.

His grip tightening, Madara’s eyes snapped open. Tobirama stroked and squeezed his hand gently, and the harsh lines of tension Madara carried eased a little. He rolled to his back, flinching, and let his head rest on the pillows.

“I’m here.” Tobirama said quietly. “We’re here.”

Madara’s chakra flared and pressed against him, and Tobirama pushed the instinctive rush of his own down, letting it wash over him. “We’re together.” Madara said in a low rasp. He tugged gently, and Tobirama groaned and let himself slide down to rest pressed along Madara’s side, bowing his head until his brow met Madara’s temple.

Chapter Text

Izuna paused, then straightened with the wayward marten in his hand. She chattered at him, and Izuna shushed her, lips quirking. No wonder why his brother hadn’t shouted at him for her beginning to forge into Madara’s room - he might still be awake, but Izuna would wager it was only barely, and his attention was. . . Elsewhere.

Tobirama was curled into Madara’s side, tousled white hair tucked under Madara’s chin and one arm wrapped firmly around his waist. Madara’s head was tipped away and Izuna could only see the corner of his soft smile, but Izuna knew his brother well and he didn’t have to see Madara’s face to know he was blissfully content.

“Taichou-tou. . .”

Izuna shushed his summon again, reaching up to where she was snuffling at his ear, and stepped back, leaving his brother and his . . . lover alone. He scooped a second marten bounding towards his brother’s bed away and back through the doorway with his foot before closing the door, directing a hard look down in response to the affronted one he was being given.

Chapter Text

“Madara-kami is very active today.” Hikaku observed, and Izuna frowned.

“That’s not smoke, though.” Izuna argued, squinting and looking up the obsidian peak whose protective shadow their village sat beneath. “This is strange. . .”

“It certainly hasn’t felt like another eruption will come soon.” Hikaku agreed, which was true; no small quakes, no sparks, no smoke. . .

Izuna wondered what was happening with their volcano, feeling a little proprietarily concerned for Madara-kami.


Madara lifted his head, gasping, feeling . . . wet; steam curled around his face, condensing on his skin and soaking into his hair. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked Tobirama, even as his hands smoothed over slim hips.

Tobirama moaned, arching beneath him, reaching up alongside Madara’s jaw and driving his hands into Madara’s hair. “I’m fine, Madara. . . Madara. . .” he groaned, dragging at Madara needily. “Just- Kiss me, touch me.”

He writhed on the bed of magma, the vibrant glow lighting his lightning-pale skin in shades of orangey red, and another gout of steam surrounded them. Madara’s breath caught - not from the thickness of the water in the air, but just from the sight of the forever unbound, impossibly gorgeous creature pinned willingly beneath him, the magma blackening at his very touch as he so eagerly invited Madara’s.

Madara fell upon him, their lips meeting in a demanding, needy crush, just shy of being harsh, and Tobirama moaned and arched, hands dragging down Madara’s body. He pressed Tobirama down harder, the magma giving gently below them, just a little, and Tobirama wrapped one leg around his hips, shuddering.

Madara tore himself away, though he couldn’t stop his stroking hands or the rocking pressure of his body down into Tobirama’s. “Tobirama-”

“If you stop to ask me if I’m all right again I will call up a downpour every time you wish to erupt for a decade,” Tobirama gasped, twining his arms around Madara’s shoulder, “lightning is far hotter than this, I am fine, I only need you to touch me.” he begged.

Madara could hardly refuse him. Madara nuzzled down his jaw and throat, kissing and biting gently as he settled a little deeper between Tobirama’s spread thighs amid a fresh plume of steam that slicked their bodies further as it rose around them.

Chapter Text

Tobirama came awake when the bedroom door opened, twisting and pushing aside his lover’s wing a bit to look, even as his senses told him it was only their fledgling. Kagami ventured across the room towards them tentatively, his wings pressed down almost flat against his body.

“Wha’s it?” Madara said, voice thick with sleep, shifting restlessly. “Kagami?”

“Mada-shishou. . .” Kagami’s soft voice was thin and held a keening note.

“Something wrong?” Madara asked, propping himself up a little, before Tobirama could more than sit up, shifting the wing that had been half pinned beneath him carefully.

“Had- Had a nightmare.” Kagami said in a tiny voice.

Madara crooned, one big wing sweeping out like a creeping shadow and catching Kagami, hooking around him and pulling him into a spill down onto the futon. “Come here, fledgling.” he said thickly, rolling over towards Tobirama and curling his wing over Kagami as he nudged their fledgling between them.

Tobirama covered his mouth with one hand, heart warm and aching. He shifted and hooked his fingers around his lover’s wing at the leading edge to lift it a bit, leaning down. “Is that all, or did you need something, little one?” he asked quietly, peeking beneath.

Kagami snuggled a little closer into the curl of Madara’s arm around him, backwards into his chest. “Nightmare.” he said, turning big, slightly wet eyes on Tobirama. “Safe here.” he added, with a coo, closing his eyes. “Always safe with Mada-shishou and Tobira-sensei.”

Tobirama smiled, his throat a little tight, and released Madara’s wing, allowing it to settle back over their fledgling before he lay down himself again. He turned onto his stomach and absently spread his wings a little, letting the right one drift to rest across his lover’s where it covered Kagami, hiding the nervous fledgling away.

Chapter Text

Tobirama kicked out in frustration, muscles straining against the chakra-draining rope wound around his arms, binding them behind him and trailing down to more knotted around his thighs. He could neither bend his body or move his legs independently. The rope was impervious to brute strength - at least as much as he could bring to bear - and prevented chakra use, and tightened itself whenever he managed to get a hint of slack.

He was very stuck.

He was also going to have words with Mito about dumping ‘interesting, but possibly problematic’ scrolls in his lap to examine. He had a sneaking suspicion she might have known what kinds of ‘traps’ he could find in them.

He would have words for Mito whenever he eventually managed to get free of the damned thing, anyway. Tobirama growled and thrashed, fighting the bonds and gasping when they tightened still further around him.

There was a sound outside, a voice, and Tobirama froze, barely breathing. Oh no. Not him.

“Senju! Tobirama!” Madara shouted from his doorstep, and Tobirama didn’t dare move for fear he’d hear and-

Tobirama closed his eyes. If Madara didn’t hear him and come inside . . . how long would it be before someone else came? Tobirama had already well proven over the past few hours that he could not get loose himself.

Tobirama’s house was isolated far at the edge of the Senju compound, and mostly avoided, if only because of his experiments and testing jutsu in the area. He had even mostly trained his brother to leave him alone, though it had taken a very long time and Hashirama occasionally needed reminders.


“Madara!” Tobirama called, then turned his face into the floor, feeling the cool wood against his flushing cheek. There was a bit more noise outside - pointed stomping and some mutters Tobirama wasn’t sure he was supposed to be able to hear.

The door opened.

Tobirama swallowed a whine and couldn’t quite make himself look around and up to see Madara’s reaction, but he wriggled his arms illustratively.

Chapter Text

Madara muttered imprecations on Tobirama’s manners to himself, but he let himself in, as Tobirama seemed to want - and if he complained at Madara doing so, then he-

Madara choked and nearly stumbled, his eyes widening. “What- What the fuck Senju!”

Tobirama was lying mostly on his front on the floor, his face turned away, his arms twisted behind his back and bound tightly in rope. The rope continued down over his hips and legs, tying arms to legs and binding legs together . . . and the tight bonds had pulled his short yukata loose, baring his slender collarbone and streaks of red that disappeared as they continued lower on his pale chest.

Madara opened his mouth, then closed it, licking his lips. Tobirama shifted a little more onto his stomach, flexing his arms again. “What the fuck.” Madara said again, this time more quietly, though with no less feeling.

“Could you please make yourself useful and help me get out of these fucking things?” Tobirama asked, tipping his head and finally meeting Madara’s gaze. His face was a rosy pink and Madara hoped his own face wasn’t red, though he suspected it might be headed that way.

“What happened, Senju? Boyfriend get mad halfway through?” Madara asked, taking a step closer. Though it would surely have to be incredibly angry, to walk away from a picture like- Madara coughed, shoulders tensing.

“What? No. Mito, fuck.” Tobirama tugged at his bound arms again. “Hurry up, please?”

Madara had stopped entirely. “Mito?” he repeated, shocked. “You- Oh kami I didn’t want to know that.” For so very many reasons.

“What?” Tobirama repeated, twisting towards Madara only to wobble unsteadily and wind up on his face again, cursing. “Fucking Mito I know she knew what was in those scrolls. She’s better than that.” he muttered. “It was an accident. A fuinjutsu trap . . . I activated it, though that was not my aim. Would you get over here?”

Oh. Oh.

Madara flushed deeper. Of course Tobirama wouldn’t- Of course Mito wouldn’t. It was . . . embarrassing that he had assumed. . . Guessed. . .

“Of course.” Madara said, shaking himself and moving to kneel by Tobirama, reaching for the ropes and trying to ignore his flush if he couldn’t make it go away. “Any trick to it or . . . do I just cut it?”

“I don’t know, just get them off.” Tobirama said, wriggling on the floor before him. “Please, Madara.”

Oh. Oh that was even worse. Madara swallowed hard and fumbled for a kunai as he grabbed Tobirama’s arms, struggling to ignore his own reactions. Getting Tobirama out of the trap the foolish man had somehow triggered on himself. That was his goal. Nothing else.

More, perhaps, was the pity, Madara thought.

Chapter Text

Madara muttered curses to himself as he stormed along the corridor. His dratted thick-headed best friend had kept him over an hour longer than he had planned for - and that had been pushing it a little - and now he’d been gone for-

His office door was open.

Madara’s heart clenched and he covered the rest of the distance in a flash, quieting his steps even as he lunged into his office. He barely got out a single syllable before he was struck silent, eyes wide, by the sight that awaited him.

He’d worried that with his door open the kittens he was looking after would have stumbled out of his office, become lost - hell, he was already late to feed them, the poor things, thanks to Hashirama.

Instead. . .

Tobirama, the hard, sharp-tongued, irrepressible bastard . . . was kneeling beside Madara’s desk, three of the five kittens cradled in his arms. He was gently stroking one with two fingertips as another chewed on a third finger. He crooned to them, his eyes soft and a smile curving his lips. Madara . . . supposed he’d known Tobirama could smile - he was human, after all, whatever appellation he’d earned in battle - but . . . it felt unreal.

Much less to see one so soft and warm and-

Tobirama looked up and Madara jumped, swallowing hard. His eyes widened as a hint of rosy pink rose in Tobirama’s cheeks. He didn’t release the kittens, though.

“I came in to leave you the rosters you requested,” Tobirama said, not quite defensive, cradling the smallest of the litter higher, almost against his collarbones, “and they were crying.”

Madara winced, feeling guilty.

“I didn’t know you. . .” Tobirama’s voice, somehow gentler this time, trailed off.

“I’ve fostered kittens before.” Madara said, shaking himself a little and moving to get their milk. “They were probably crying because their feeding is late. Your brother,” he bit off anything more rude, “delayed me. But now. . .”

When he turned around he found Tobirama offering up his armful of kittens. His red eyes were still soft, and the kittens were reluctant to leave his arms until Madara reached for them and they smelled him, and the warm milk he had ready.

Chapter Text

Madara was practically humming with happiness - it was good to be back in Konoha, it was good to have been on a mission that let him actually exert himself a little - the true extent of his skills were so rarely needed these days, pleasant as that was - and he would be seeing his lover again in only moments.

He trotted up the stairs to the Senju house and opened the door to see white feathers spread wide across the floor, and fingers buried among them, and-

“Madara! Hi!” Hashirama called cheerfully.

Madara pulled up short, fury and hurt surged up in his chest in a nauseating twist for a breath until he fully took in the display before him. He swallowed thickly, then closed his eyes, his fingers tightening on the door, and took a deep, slow breath.

When he opened them again he carefully loosened his grip and closed the door before moving towards his lover and his best friend.

Tobirama was stretched out on his belly on the floor, his head and shoulders cradled in his brother’s lap, wings spread out wide. Hashirama was preening and caressing them, and running his fingers through Tobirama’s hair from time to time. Coddling his brother.

Madara doted on his own little brother similarly, he just- Even knowing it was their home, his first sight hadn’t taken in Hashirama lavishing such affection on his lover, only that someone was. He swallowed against the lingering lump in his throat, shaking his head. “Hello.” he replied belatedly, glancing from Hashirama’s beaming face to Tobirama’s bare back. He was limp across Hashirama’s lap.

“Tobi hasn’t been sleeping well lately I think; he fell asleep a little while ago.” Hashirama said in a loud whisper. “I think he missed you terribly.”

Madara smiled faintly, carefully moving around Tobirama’s outspread right wing and approaching his friend’s side. He was still startled when Hashirama pulled him down firmly, nearly sending him spilling over Tobirama’s shoulder and wing before he caught his balance and landed on one knee on the floor. Hashirama crushed him into a one-armed hug, and Madara elbowed him but allowed it with nothing more than a huff, eyes falling to Tobirama’s only half-visible, peaceful face.

Chapter Text

“I have a question for you.” Tobirama said, watching his lover bang his head into a cupboard door that was usually just higher than he had to worry about. In Madara’s defence, Tobirama bumped into it himself not too infrequently.

Madara turned around, scowling, and Tobirama was given pause for a moment. His own face looked . . . strange, with his lover’s familiar scowl twisting it. And his frame didn’t quite suit the huffy posture Madara had taken, arms crossed before him and shoulders oddly half raised . . . or perhaps, Tobirama thought wryly, it was that Madara’s temper looked wrong without his hair fluffing up around him like an angry cat.

Speaking of which. . .

How do you manage this while you do anything?” Tobirama asked, tugging at the handful of Madara’s hair he held. He had been trying to twist it up and out of the way, but while Tobirama was fully capable of wrangling the mass of it normally, brushing it until its wilfulness gave way and braiding it neatly, he found it an entirely new problem from this perspective.

Madara’s brows rose, and then he laughed, posture softening. Tobirama blinked, surprised both at the reaction and at the way his face and body looked with it.

“There’s a reason,” Madara said when he calmed a little, coming across the workroom to his side, “beyond I don’t feel like it, that I never do anything with it myself. Even though I’m happy for you to do so.” he said gently, eyes warm.

His hands were gentle as he brushed Tobirama’s away, gathering his long, thick hair and doing . . . something with it. Tobirama jumped, stiffening, then going nearly limp, leaning against the table before him with a low purr as Madara pulled firmly at his hair. “Ohhh fuck. That’s why you like that.” he groaned.

Madara chuckled, leaning forwards and kissing his shoulder, then tugged again, a little more sharply. Hot electricity rushed through Tobirama’s body, lighting under his skin and tingling all the way to the base of his cock. He whined.

Madara paused, then sighed and tugged a little more gently, and in a few moments let go entirely. His hair now rested in a heavy line down his spine, though Tobirama couldn’t tell if it was braided or simply tied back. He whined again, faintly, despite telling himself not to, and Madara rubbed his shoulder.

Tobirama hauled himself upright again reluctantly, stomach clenching. Fuck, it was never so easy to get his blood up like this.

“. . .perhaps if you’re so enamoured of . . . experimenting . . . we can try something,” Madara said, with a curious glint in his eyes, “once you’re sure you’ve figured this,” he gestured down to their bodies, “out.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened, and Madara flushed faintly - oh, that was what that looked like, Tobirama thought - and looked away, ducking his chin. It didn’t quite hide his face from Tobirama the way it would if they’d been in their own bodies; Tobirama was looking up at him already, and there was no curtain of his hair to hide within.

“That,” Tobirama said, briefly startled by the low, rough tone of his voice, “would be . . . a tempting experiment. If you would enjoy such as well.”

Madara looked back at him, lips twitching towards a smile. “I’m . . . curious.” he admitted. “So get to it on figuring out that seal.” he added wryly, jerking his head towards the free space of floor that held the cause of their current . . . predicament.

Chapter Text

Madara brought his gunbai around and sent it slashing towards Tobirama, his vicious grin fading as his face twisted with concentration. He wrapped the chain around his off hand and prepared a followup strike-

Madara was so off-balance he nearly let his gunbai slip from his hand for a moment. The chain did fall from his fingers. “Tobi! What the-”

Another fleeting brush of warmth and softness against his lips and then the sound of laughter as Tobirama flickered into view again a good ten paces away. Madara tightened his grip on his gunbai and growled, twirling it lightly as he shifted his stance and lunged.

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed and he stood his ground only to slip out from Madara’s path at the last moment. Madara whirled, ready for the move, snarling and levelling a blow at Tobirama’s neck, only to actually stumble as Tobirama kissed his cheek this time before flickering away.

Tobirama’s hands were empty, now, though he’d begun this spar wielding his sword. He was solely playing, Madara thought, glaring and fighting the twitch towards a smile.

Tobirama gave a slow blink, then began to prowl in a loose arc around Madara. He turned lazily, keeping his eyes on Tobirama, idly swinging the kusarigama at his side.

When Tobirama suddenly gave another burst of speed, Madara let the kusarigama fly and leapt straight upwards at the same time; a sharp movement had his gunbai driving into the earth below him and bringing Tobirama up short so he didn’t crash into the broad side of it. Madara twisted as he came down again and caught Tobirama between himself and the gunbai with a growl.

Straightening abruptly, Tobirama yelped as he was shoved into it and Madara grinned, leaning up to claim a kiss. This one was no fleeting tease but quickly had Tobirama purring and leaning heavily against the gunbai, hands sliding over Madara’s shoulders to cling to him for support.

“I win.” Madara breathed as he pulled away.

Chapter Text

Madara took a deep breath, smiling faintly as he leaned against the railing of the small bridge that arched over the course of the small stream feeding into the pond. The sounds of the gathering inside the Senju household were faint but not unpleasant as they drifted out to him here.

A flicker of chakra and he could sense the overall calm tide of those inside, relaxing him further as he let it ebb again. Although-

There was another presence, still calm but much nearer, a well of chakra that was cool and deep, approaching him.

Madara let his sensor ability fade all the same, turning his head slightly to look only as Tobirama stepped up onto the bridge. Not just seeking some quiet, as Madara had - he was delighted with the peace they now shared and he even enjoyed gatherings like this one, but he had needed a bit of space to breathe after a busy week - but seeking him, then.

“Am I disturbing you?” Tobirama asked softly, and Madara looked back at the water - rippling gently but still reflecting the stars above - and shook his head. Tobirama hummed, leaning against the railing a couple of paces away, and they exchanged a few idle comments but mostly lingered in companionable silence.

“Madara. . .”

When Madara turned, Tobirama was looking at him, but his head was tilted slightly away and there was the faintest brush of colour darkening his cheeks, though it was washed out by the moonlight. Madara blinked, surprised. “Yes?” he asked.

Intense crimson eyes met his, and Madara quashed down his instinctive reaction, ignoring the clench in his stomach and the tingling just under his skin reflexively - a reflex trained by long practise.

Tobirama looked at him full on for a moment, then lifted his jaw just a little. “May I,” he paused, just long enough for curiosity to lance through Madara, “kiss you?”

Madara went still, a jolt of surprise all but making him tremble. Tobirama didn’t move, though the colour in his cheeks shaded darker.

Madara shifted, straightening fully, and then hesitated. He nodded, not quite able to find words, or confident he could voice them, and beckoned Tobirama closer. Some of the tension across his broad shoulders eased as he stepped in close to Madara, raising one hand and brushing Madara’s hair back with the backs of his fingers, knuckles ghosting against Madara’s cheek.

He tilted his head up to meet Tobirama’s almost hesitant kiss, and rested his hands on Tobirama’s waist, gently slanting his mouth against Tobirama’s, encouraging him and firming the kiss. Tobirama let out a soft sound and relaxed into it, warm and gentle and lingering, his still-raised hand settling at last against Madara’s jaw.

Chapter Text

Madara rolled over, bracing his chin on his crossed forearms. “Do you think he realises we know he’s here?” he asked idly.

Tobirama’s lips twitched. “Kagami knows.” he pointed out, and Madara snorted. Kagami was hardly likely to forget either of their abilities on that score. His boyfriend, on the other hand. . . “It is possible Danzo has forgotten or never knew the precise extent. He may think he’s . . . being sneaky.”

Madara snorted again and Tobirama freed one hand from the book he was reading to run his fingers through his husband’s hair. “Not being a very good ninja, then, is he?” Madara asked, though his voice had softened to almost a purr and his eyes were heavy-lidded.

“Perhaps he is distracted.” Tobirama suggested dryly. The chakra signatures from the other end of the house were warm and entangled and happy, and he would certainly believe that, having forgotten either about them entirely or only about their sensor abilities, Danzo’s mind had filled with Kagami and retained little else.

“Not being a very good ninja, then.” Madara said dismissively, though it held somewhat less weight when he still spoke in a contented purr and his entire body displayed his lazy, comfortable relaxation.

“I would ask if you do not recall being a teenager. . .” Tobirama began, tugging at Madara’s fringe gently, and he laughed, shaking his head. “Indeed.” He sighed. Neither of them had any place to be so careless in their own adolescence - and Kagami and Danzo were little younger now than Tobirama had been when they founded Konoha.

Still, it was a good thing the boys were safe and carefree enough to let such things slip. It was what he and Madara had both wanted more than anything, a large part of what had led to the founding of their village. The same desire, and care, that had drawn Madara and Tobirama towards each other, initially.

Tobirama set aside his book and blocked out all but the faintest sensation of the two boys across the house, shifting to stretch out alongside his husband and draw Madara into a kiss.

Chapter Text

Exhausted and weak with it, chakra low, Tobirama all but flew through the branches towards his brother’s chakra signature - blessedly easy to sense, even when his entire being throbbed and his chakra was too near gone to give him much range. His heart raced and his stomach knotted, mind circling what they had told him as soon as he made it back into the village from his mission.

Madara leaving. Madara’s betrayal. Hashirama chasing after him. Hashirama swearing. . .

Tobirama shook his head, slowing only a little as he approached his brother, dropping down out of the trees. “Anija! I-” Tobirama choked, stumbling.

He hadn’t felt Madara’s chakra signature. Madara who was an ever-bright wash of heat and sparks in his mind, a strength that matched his own, unmistakable.

He hadn’t sensed Madara, who was right there before him. Who lay facedown in the water, a sword buried in his back just by one shoulder blade, blood flowing freely over his back to swirl into the water, thinned by the current as it was carried away. Hashirama knelt at his side, but did not move.

Madara.” Tobirama said, raw and aching, stunned.

Hashirama looked up, eyes wet with tears. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Tobi, he should never have turned his back on our dream, he should never have forgotten himself this way!” he cried, sobbing.

Tobirama’s own eyes burned. So did his chakra pathways as he poured more of himself into his sensing, ignoring the blackening edges of his vision. There wasn’t a flicker of Madara’s chakra to be felt. And Tobirama was staring right at him.

Gone, gone, gone. . .

“Madara.” he said again, broken and soft, as he stumbled towards them both, remembering Madara’s low voice, the steady strength of him, the heat of his body as well as his chakra twined close with Tobirama’s own. “Madara. . . Anija how- how could you-”

Hashirama reached for him and Tobirama flinched away hard even as he went to his knees nearer Madara’s head. He couldn’t stand even the thought of his brother’s touch.

He reached, hesitated, then . . . made contact, wrapping his hand around Madara’s shoulder and tugging gently. He fell into the turn, cold and lifeless, his wild hair falling limp across his face, the other end of the blade transfixing him coming into sight protruding from his breast. Tobirama bit back a scream as he doubled over, body folding forwards over Madara’s lax one.

“Tobi,” Hashirama said again, sounding miserable, “he should never have- How could he turn his back on me? On our village, our dream, everything we wanted?”

Barely able to contain the sobbing grief for his lover, his throat aching and raw, Tobirama couldn’t have spoken if he had wanted to, but. . . He never should have turned his back on you, Anija, he thought, sickened and heartbroken, fingers tightening in Madara’s wet, bloody shirt.

Chapter Text

“I just worry for you, otouto!” Hashirama cried, and Tobirama narrowly resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands. “You sneak out and-”

“Anija, I am twenty-three. I am not sneaking out, I am spending time with my partner.” Tobirama protested, knowing it was unlikely to make a dent in his brother’s argument.

“I only want to know!” Hashirama cried, seizing his hands and clasping them tightly. “I worry for you! And I want to know any niblings, even if they’re illegitimate!”

Tobirama choked, eyes widening. Hashirama continued to speak but- “Madara and I are not having children together, legitimate or otherwise!”

“. . .Madara?” Hashirama said, twitching. “You . . . and Madara?”

“Yes.” Tobirama sighed, freeing one hand from his brother’s clasp to rub his brow as he rose from his chair. “Honestly, you didn’t notice?” he asked, exasperated, shaking his head.

“No. No, I- Madara is my friend!” Hashirama said stoutly, and Tobirama eyed him, slowly agreeing that he knew that. “My best friend. My destiny. My gift from the divine!”

“He’s my lover.” Tobirama said dryly.

“You stole my best friend?” Hashirama shouted, and Tobirama jumped. “. . .my best friend defiled my precious otouto! How could he betray me like this?” he wailed.

Anija!” Tobirama snapped.

“My brother?”

Tobirama stiffened, then whirled to face Izuna, who looked from one of them to the other with wide eyes, then scowled. “You’re courting my brother? No! I refuse!” Izuna shouted, pointing at Tobirama.

Excuse me?” Tobirama demanded icily. “You refuse?”

“Izuna?” Hashirama said uncertainly.

“You may only have my approval to court my brother if you defeat me in single combat!” Izuna declared. “I must know you’re worthy of my Aniki!”

“Izuna!” Hashirama scolded, visibly aghast, then- “Oh, I must go talk to Madara!” he yelped. “If my best friend is going to court my precious otouto I need to make sure he’ll take care of my Tobi!”

He rushed off before Tobirama could protest, and he switched his glare to Izuna.

“Think he’ll be all right?” Izuna asked, sidling nearer.

“They’ve been sparring for years, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Tobirama said, waving a hand. Also he doubted Madara would just sit still to be shouted at about their relationship.

Izuna hummed, mouth twisting, but nodded.

“‘Defeat you in single combat’, really?” Tobirama questioned, arching a brow as he glanced sideways at Izuna.

“Well, it worked.” Izuna said, smirking.

“Hm.” Tobirama cocked his head. “Same lung or the other side this time?” he teased, reaching out and tapping Izuna’s ribs where he bore the scar from the final battle of the Senju-Uchiha war.

Izuna gaped at him. “Excuse you!” he snapped huffily, and Tobirama tipped his head back and laughed. “Besides, I’ve already told you I approve.” He shouldered Tobirama roughly, then shifted to lay his head against Tobirama’s shoulder.

“Because I defeated you in combat?” Tobirama asked dryly, shifting to rub Izuna’s back idly.

“Because you love my brother.” Izuna said softly, and Tobirama swallowed, squeezing him reflexively closer for a moment.

Chapter Text

Kagami restrained the urge to cheer as a spiralling storm of fire - he had to get Madara to teach him that; surely he could start working on it even if he wasn’t yet strong enough to do it properly? - met a roaring water dragon with a snap of rippling fangs, and a gout of steam hid both his sensei from his sight.

They emerged from the concealment lunging for one another, Tobirama with raijen no ken raised and Madara swinging his gunbai. They met with a crash that rattled Kagami’s teeth, even in his place well out of the way, but didn’t hesitate, rebounding and returning to one another with a flurry of blows, clashing powerfully.

The noise and fury of it didn’t stop until Madara sent Tobirama flying and he tumbled over in the dirt only to regain his feet and spit a fanning arc of suiton blades at Madara, which knocked him backwards even as he blocked them with his gunbai. He breathed a stream of flame over the fan, however, and Tobirama had to move fast to avoid being caught up in it, despite calling up a swirling wave to shield himself.

When the wave gave way in another cloud of steam, Madara was waiting, the gunbai’s edge swinging right up to Tobirama’s throat before he stopped it. They stood for a moment, frozen, then Tobirama smiled and Madara lowered his gunbai and they both nodded to one another.

Then they linked hands - fingers - in the wakai no in, just as every spar in the Academy had to conclude - Kagami suspected his sensei did it partly to set an example, since few other adult ninja did. He rather liked the rule himself, particularly with his friends; it was reassuring, after they’d been trying so fiercely to hurt one another, particularly after spars in which he’d been pitted against Koharu who was vicious or Danzo who was almost scarily determined.

Hiruzen grumbled about the rule sometimes, but then, when he and Danzo made the wakai no in together they generally looked like they were trying to break each others’ fingers rather than declare they were still friends and comrades.

Kagami much preferred the gentle tug Danzo gave his hand whenever they ended a spar, and was glad that for all that they competed ruthlessly, Danzo generally did not target Kagami as the one he most wanted to best. Overall it was a good rule - a new tradition - Kagami thought. And, well, someday. . .

Kagami grinned as before they broke the wakai no in, Madara and Tobirama pulled at each other gently, stepping closer to exchange a soft, fleeting kiss. Only then did they move apart, letting their fingers uncurl. He bit his lip, watching light smiles rise on each of their faces.

Someday, Kagami thought he would rather like to have someone he copied that with, as well.

Chapter Text

“What has you looking so thoughtful?” Tobirama asked, patting Kagami’s head lightly.

He lifted it from where he’d had his chin braced on his forearm and grinned, still idly tracing patterns on the tabletop with his free hand. “Oh, just. . .” he paused, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth.

Tobirama made a prompting noise, arching a brow.

Kagami ducked his head. “Just thinking. . . Someday, you know, when- when I’m older,” he shrugged vaguely, “I’d . . . like very much to have a bond like yours.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened, then went soft as he ran his fingers through Kagami’s hair.

Madara made a slightly choked sound, and when Kagami glanced at him his face was pink where it wasn’t hidden behind his hair, but his smile was clear.

Kagami smiled a little more widely, then hesitated, eyeing his beloved Mada-shishou. “Although. . .” he qualified, looking up at Tobirama again. “I think perhaps I would like a partner who is . . . less shouty.” he admitted, suddenly thinking of sharp brown eyes and a harsh, stubborn mouth that nevertheless rarely shouted.

There was silence for barely a moment and then- “Kagami!

Tobirama’s eyes sparkled with amusement as his lips twitched. Kagami ducked his head further but didn’t react otherwise as Madara protested in rather loud splutters.

“You realise, of course, Kagami,” Tobirama said, voice light, and patted his shoulder, “that you are the Uchiha in this scenario of yours?”

Kagami frowned. “That doesn’t- I-” he broke off, frown deepening.

“I suggest you come to terms with it,” Tobirama teased, kissing the top of his head as though he was still a child - although his reflexive pout likely did little to emphasise how much he’d outgrown such things, he thought belatedly, “but that is very sweet.” Tobirama continued softly, “I hope you, too, are one day very happy with your partner, whoever they may be.”

Madara was still huffing and protesting grouchily, but he quieted a little as Tobirama went to his side, hands sliding over his broad shoulders.

Kagami watched them, his scowl easing back into a smile. Shouting or not, teasing or not, Kagami truly did hope for a relationship like his Mada-shishou and Tobira-sensei had, one day. They were . . . happy together, and more simply being happy they so clearly just fit together.

Chapter Text

“Aniki! Are you crazy?” Izuna demanded, spilling out the front door and all but toppling over the edge of the engawa in his rush.

Madara paused, then tugged his sandal fully into place and straightened, turning towards his brother with a cocked brow. “Not so far as I am aware.” he said dryly. “What has Ebisaru been saying this time?”

Izuna made a rude noise and Madara was hard pressed to stifle his amusement even if his brother had leapt out of their house to accuse him of madness. “Not him, the old stick,” Izuna sniffed, “you-” He paused, meeting Madara’s eyes with sudden seriousness that dropped a leaden weight in Madara’s stomach. “You held a bond with a Senju once before, Aniki, and it nearly killed-” his voice cracked. “Are you- You can’t be-”

Madara’s eyes had widened at the half-accusation, and he moved forwards as tears gathered in Izuna’s eyes, sweeping his brother into an embrace. Izuna pounded a fist against his chest. “If you get yourself hurt by that- that- Demon, Aniki, I swear. . .”

Madara rested his head against Izuna’s, humming softly, and rubbed his back. “I,” he paused, “I will not be hurt, otouto.” he said gently. “I trust in him. And he is . . . steadier than his. . . And our fathers are no longer. . .”

Izuna drew back and looked up at Madara, biting his lip. Madara hugged him tighter.

“Promise me.” Izuna said, then looked away, squeezing his eyes shut.

“. . .Izuna?” Madara said softly.

Promise me,” Izuna said fiercely, meeting his gaze again, hands fisted in his shirt, “that his heart beats with yours, that at least he won’t hurt you, even if his fucking bastard clan. . .”

Madara swallowed thickly, drawing Izuna in and resting his brow against his brother’s. “I swear it, Izuna. Our hearts beat together,” his heart fluttered at the rote words that formed part of the vows he would take, were he ever to wed, “and he would do me no harm, and even stand against his clan to prevent it were they to strike at me.”

Izuna took a deep, shaky breath. “Good. That’s- Good.” He sniffed. “You’d best- best go to him, then.” He looked away again.

Madara swallowed, then hugged Izuna so tight his ribs bowed under the force. “I will. Thank you, Izu.” he said quietly before he drew away, brushing his fingers over his brother’s face.

Chapter Text

Madara grumbled under his breath, arms wrapped around himself and his thick quilted coat held close. He stifled a yelp as an icy gust of wind sliced at the nape of his neck, squirming and bringing his coat up higher. “Fuck it’s cold.” he muttered darkly, contemplating whether the notice a katon would draw was worth it for the small warmth it might offer.

“You didn’t have to come out into it.”

Madara jumped, then whirled, breath catching, to meet glittering red eyes. They and his markings were all about him that stood out against the snow; Tobirama looked like a snow spirit of some kind.

“Of course I was coming to meet you.” Madara said sharply, scowling.

Tobirama smiled slightly, drifting closer. His steps were silent and left no mark in the snow, either. Snow spirit indeed. “As you say, my love.” he said softly, his hands slipping free of the thick white fur he wore as a cloak and finding Madara’s.

Madara shivered, though Tobirama’s hands were no colder than his own and might actually be warmer. Tobirama bowed his head and brushed their noses together, stealing a fleeting kiss.

Madara grumbled wordlessly and leaned up, catching him back for a more lingering one.

Tobirama smiled, staying close. “Come with me and I’ll get you somewhere warmer.” he said softly, and Madara shivered, but nodded.

Tobirama squeezed his hands, then made a single seal, and the world disappeared around them.

Chapter Text

It had been deeply unpleasant stripping to slide into the water - and Madara dreaded dressing again when they had to leave it - but it was well worth it and Madara would certainly not deny it. He purred and stretched, sliding one hand over Tobirama’s side.

Tobirama glanced back at him with sparkling eyes and then slipped in close easily, lean and solid and warmed by the heat of the onsen around them. Madara purred again, winding his arms around his lover and kissing his shoulder.

Tobirama’s eyes were warm and heavy-lidded as he nuzzled Madara’s cheek, hooking one leg around Madara’s and curling into him. Madara smiled and returned the affectionate gesture, tipping his head back and then shivering as a drift of snow brushed his nape before melting away.

Tobirama smoothed a hand up over his neck and Madara sighed, closing his eyes. His lips curled as Tobirama kissed him again, this time beginning high on his cheek and trailing in a lazy line down to his mouth.

Madara opened to him and they shared languid, lingering kisses as they sank a little deeper in the water, letting its heat wash over them. He loosened his embrace, but only to smooth his hands over his lover in easy, sweeping caresses, feeling the ripple of tension as his muscles flexed and relaxed, Tobirama pushing himself against Madara’s body.

He shivered and moaned, catching Tobirama back into a shallow kiss, sweet and promising. Tobirama’s fingers crept up his neck, stopping just shy of where his hair was swept up to the knot keeping it out of the water, and tugged him in, deepening the kiss with a low rumble of pleasure.

Chapter Text

“Izuna,” Madara caught his brother by the arm as they approached the small shiro that would host the negotiations, “otouto . . . thank you. For this.”

Izuna glanced at him, then huffed, lips pursing. “Thank me when we get out of this without me stabbing any Senju.” he said wryly.

“Do not.” Madara warned, but he couldn’t quite keep his lips from twitching.

“We’ll see.” Izuna said impishly, and they continued on their way. The Senju approached at almost the same time, some of them - Hashirama included - making their way inside as others lingered to meet the Uchiha.

Madara bowed his head and hurried inside as the first of his people moved ahead, needing to be there with them. He heard Izuna’s voice and froze, wondering if he shouldn’t have thrown aside protocol - or at least been sure to keep his brother with him.

“If you ever. . .” Izuna said, voice low but carrying easily enough to Madara’s ears. “I will gut you, Demon.”

A soft cry of surprise from the wide-eyed ninja nearest Madara told him he wasn’t the only one to hear his brother’s words.

“I would expect nothing less.” Tobirama replied smoothly as Madara turned, looking back. Tobirama inclined his head and gestured Izuna to precede him into the shiro.

“Izuna-sama!” Madara heard one of the younger advisors all but hissing at his brother even as they entered. “We’re here for peace talks, your brother. . .”

“All is well.” Tobirama said, the tiniest hint of a smile playing around his lips. Madara was probably the only one who recognised it. “However, we should likely proceed before my brother grows impatient.”

No one, evidently, Uchiha or Senju alike, wished to risk that, and they all hurried on, with no more said - for now - about Izuna’s threat.


“Izuna!” Madara scolded sharply, once he was sure of their privacy in the small room. “You- You threatened- You know he’d never hurt me.”

Izuna looked around at him, then settled at the table where the tea service waited.

“You trusted in it enough even to carry us all the way here.” Madara said more softly, moving closer and seating himself when Izuna gestured, picking up the teapot.

“Yes.” Izuna said, with a slanted smile that wasn’t quite pleased. “But. . .” He paused, teapot held in both hands. “You’re my brother. He understood.”

Madara frowned, brows drawing together.

“It’s all right, Aniki.” Izuna said, pouring two cups of tea. “No more threats. I promise.” He smiled slightly and passed a cup into Madara’s hands.

Chapter Text

Madara stilled, silently cursing the seal barrier he’d crossed over on his way into the thrice-damned warren of caves yet again. There was something moving in the tight space with him, but with the oily feeling of the seal penning his chakra beneath his skin, he couldn’t tell what it was.

When warm skin brushed his own he had to fight not to let out a sound; he twisted, keeping his left arm steady - cursing himself for letting it be caught in the grip now tightening around his wrist - and readying a blow with his right. The grip squeezed tighter, grinding his bones together painfully, and he felt a cool wash of chakra against his skin.

He froze, eyes widening in the dark. Tobirama’s grip loosened and the feeling of his chakra ebbed away immediately; in this close, tight, smothering space Madara mourned the loss of even that.

Tobirama caressed his wrist and Madara stiffened. A tap. Then another, and a sequence, and- Oh.

Madara squeezed his eyes shut, feeling idiotic, but gathered himself to pay attention quickly, before he could lose any of Tobirama’s message. He strung it together piece by piece, and Tobirama waited for a beat when he finished, then tapped a question.

Madara reached over with his free hand and bumped into Tobirama’s shoulder; he squeezed it, then tapped out agreement with one adjustment against Tobirama’s knuckles.

His fingers squeezed around Madara’s wrist - not so hard this time; he’d have bruises in the pattern of Tobirama’s fingers from the first one, that would be a delightful conversation when he returned home, even if Izuna would have no way of knowing whose fingers had left them - and then pulled away.

Not entirely, however; he caught the edge of Madara’s glove with his fingertips as he led the way deeper into the warren. Madara hated, hated the smothering, oily sensation of the guard seals - clever usage for the base of these rebels; Madara commended them for it and looked forward to reducing the whole body of their defences to ash and rubble - and he wondered how Tobirama could move so unerringly under them.

Though he would rather have bitten off his tongue than admit it . . . he also felt better about his chances of success with Tobirama at his side. The rebel forces were larger than the Daimyo had insinuated when demanding Konoha send someone to deal with them, and better equipped, as proven by their use of seals, among other details Madara had only been able to ascertain as he approached.

Chapter Text

Madara stretched lazily, feeling warm and just a little achy from good sex followed by solid sleep. He moaned, tipping his head back, then jerked, flinching, as his neck bloomed with a sharper ache. He reached for it, but remembered the sharp stab that had set off his orgasm a moment before his fingers made contact with the broken skin.

He’d forgotten about it, but. . . He brushed it lightly and his toes curled. Pain or no, he didn’t regret that, either; it had felt unexpectedly fantastic. Not many of Madara’s partners in the past had been willing to be so ‘careless’ as to be rough with him; as though he would be so unbalanced as to be unable to differentiate an attack from a lover’s touch. He huffed.

He turned a bit and looked at Tobirama, a smile coming to his lips. Tobirama was still asleep, or maybe just waking - Madara’s chest tightened at the trust it displayed; Tobirama resting like this when he was stirring so near - and he looked gorgeous and soft. Even with the sharply-winged lines of his tattoos and what Madara suspected was a dried smear of Madara’s own blood along his jaw.

Tobirama woke slowly, heavy-lidded eyes meeting Madara’s as he stretched, then returned to his slight, comfortable curl. “Madara.” he said slowly, voice thick. “Hello.”

Madara laughed a little giddily. “Hello.” he replied, tucking himself closer, until their noses nearly brushed. Tobirama grinned sloppily and reached up to stroke his shoulder, then tipped his head for a kiss Madara was all too happy to give, light and sweet.

They lingered in bed together for as long as they could excuse, but Tobirama had a meeting and he needed to wash and dress in fresh clothes first. Eventually he dragged himself away, staying just long enough for breakfast - an invitation that clearly surprised him, and Madara resolved to cook a proper meal for him soon; he deserved it and it would . . . show him - and tea with Madara before he disappeared in a flash of chakra.

Madara hummed happily as he washed the dishes and then went to wash and have a long soak in the bath. He had a meeting as well, but his was with the Uchiha elders and he was free until it was scheduled, a couple of hours before dinner.

Chapter Text

Madara jumped as Izuna whistled, clapping his hands together. He slid the door closed and eyed his brother. “Go Aniki!” Izuna said brightly, grinning and waggling his eyebrows. “Landed a Hatake, very nice.”

Madara’s brows drew together. “What?” he asked flatly.

“Hatake. Very bitey, with the teeth to suit it.” Izuna gestured vaguely at him and Madara reached for the bite he had not bothered to try concealing. “. . .wait, weren’t you trying to catch Senju?”

No.” Madara said, then- “I mean, yes, I have . . . something with Tobirama, but no, I was not trying to catch him. Honestly, Izuna. Do you ever intend to settle properly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Someday.” Izuna said, with a playful grin. “Having fun. But. . . Senju did that?” Izuna blinked, eyeing Madara’s neck with somewhat unsettling focus as he drifted closer.

“Yes he did, excuse you otouto.” Madara said pointedly, pushing Izuna away a little when he started to lean in, breath almost tickling Madara’s bruised throat. Boundaries; honestly. “Do you want me to help you cook or not?”

“Yes, please.” Izuna wheedled, darting hurriedly off to the kitchen. “I have everything you said we’d need.” He paused, eyeing the counter. “This’ll really turn into-”

“With some work, yes.” Madara answered, shaking his head and draping an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “You’ll learn this, just like everything else you’ve put your mind to, it’ll just take work.”

“Work I can do.” Izuna said with a lighter smile, hugging Madara in return. “Thanks, Aniki.” he added softly.

Madara nodded and nudged him away, going to take stock and make sure Izuna had gotten everything he was told before they started to cook.

Chapter Text

Tobirama pulled away with a languid smile, brilliant eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Mm, what was that for?” he asked. He didn’t go far, arms looped around Madara’s shoulders.

Madara stole another, more fleeting kiss, and Tobirama’s smile widened. “Only happy to see you.” Madara said honestly, and Tobirama’s arms tightened as he pressed his cheek to Madara’s, fingers playing in his hair. Madara suppressed the shiver running down his spine and the soft moan in his throat.

“Me too.” Tobirama said warmly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, then- “Oh!”

“Tobira?” Madara questioned, sliding a hand over his side.

Tobirama’s lips quirked into something that was not quite a smile, and he unwound one arm and brushed his fingers over Madara’s throat, making him hiss at the dull burn over the just-healing bite. “I didn’t realise I bit you quite so hard.”

“I liked it.” Madara said without thinking, and pinked as Tobirama’s eyes darted from his neck back up to meet his own. “I do like it.” His voice dropped as he drew Tobirama another few steps inside, not letting any distance between them. “I hope you’ll do it again.”

Tobirama smiled slowly, heat sparking in his eyes. “Oh. . . I think I could do that.” he said, playful, and wound a lock of Madara’s hair around his fingers as he leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and slower.

Madara moaned against his mouth, arms tightening around his waist, and he nipped playfully as he arched, nudging into Madara’s embrace. He drew away only slowly, eyes dark and breathing a little quickened.

“So,” Tobirama said, and licked his lips, “you promised me dinner?”

Madara laughed, rubbing Tobirama’s back and kissing his cheek. “I did. Everything’s ready for me to start cooking, if you want to come through and keep me company while I put it together?”

Tobirama looked a little surprised, but a smile played around his lips. “Of course.” he agreed, and followed Madara into the kitchen, settling at the tiny table and leaning on it as he watched Madara pause before starting to knot his hair up and out of the way. Madara didn’t fail to note the flare of heat in Tobirama’s expression as he did, eyes trailing down his neck even as he turned away; Madara grinned, a twist of giddy warmth blooming in his chest.

Chapter Text

Despite his playful promise, Tobirama didn’t leave another raw bite that night, though he did stay after dinner; he was now curled on his side near Madara, asleep. He hardly missed it, and given the state of the first one it was probably for the best . . . at least for now.

Madara sighed sleepily, body still humming with the dull heat of remembered pleasure.

Tomorrow he did have to be up in the morning, however, expected at a meeting with the Yamanaka Clan Heir. Otherwise he might have risen to go work off the energy lingering in him despite his sleepiness.

Perhaps. He glanced over at his bedmate and wondered if he would have left regardless, with Tobirama in his bed.

Madara extended a hand tentatively, sliding over Tobirama’s hip and up his waist towards his ribs. He was warm and pliant in sleep, and he stirred with a low, rumbling murmur as Madara moved closer, but didn’t protest and Madara didn’t think he had even woken properly.

Madara curled an arm around his waist and kissed his shoulder, head bowing as he took a deep breath, Tobirama’s hair tickling his face. He smothered a laugh and ignored it after a twitch and a shift to nestle his cheek further into the pillow.

He was almost asleep when Tobirama shifted again, groaning and sliding a hand over his forearm. Madara opened his eyes, beginning to raise his head, expecting to be pushed away - or at least have his arm pushed back.

Tobirama squeezed his wrist, then nudged backwards against Madara, pressing into his chest. Madara swallowed, winding his arm a little more snugly around Tobirama out of reflex, just . . . so pleased with the sleepy gesture.

He pushed down the faint curl of arousal as Tobirama’s ass nudged up into the tilt of his own hips, but thought idly of taking his lover in this position, sometime, as he drifted to sleep, lips curled.

Chapter Text

Madara woke to nuzzling kisses at his throat, and purred throatily at the warm caresses.

They paused for a moment, and then Tobirama licked across the bite mark still marking his throat. Madara moaned again, shifting languidly and finding Tobirama’s chest with his fingertips before he opened his eyes, sliding a caress over the defined planes of muscle appreciatively.

Tobirama laughed, low and warm, and kissed his jaw, nuzzling gently. “Are you even awake?” he asked lightly.

Madara grinned and closed his eyes. “No. You’ll have to keep trying.” he said, tilting his chin up.

Tobirama kissed him, a butterfly brush of contact, then pulled away again, and Madara sighed.

Then he jumped as Tobirama bit his collarbone sharply, a scraping sting.

“How about now?” Tobirama teased, meeting his eyes, his own glittering with mischief.

Madara growled and caught him around the waist, watching his pretty eyes go wide with surprise before he jerked as his back hit the bed. He had hold of Madara’s shoulder, but he didn’t push Madara off or flip them again.

“Oh, I’m awake.” Madara growled again, watching the shiver he thought he’d noted running through his lover before run return and feeling a soft thrum of pleasure at the clear effect he had on Tobirama. “Tease.” He nipped Tobirama’s jaw, then shifted to lie more next to him than atop him once more.

Tobirama’s fingers slipped from his shoulder to brush over the mark of his teeth on Madara’s throat, and he hummed, tilting his head to allow more room. “Izuna teased me - well, applauded me,” he snorted, “about bedding a Hatake when he saw that, you know.”

Tobirama snorted. “What did you tell him?” he asked, fingers lingering on the mark.

“Reminded him that no I had and would not, and yes I was still with you, of course.” Madara said, shaking his head slightly.

Tobirama blinked. “You could have told him it’s both.” he said, and Madara stiffened.

“I wouldn’t- I don’t-” Madara eyed him warily. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.” he said quietly, fingers tightening clingily around Tobirama’s hip as a distressed twist spiked in his chest.

“What?” Tobirama said, looking confused himself. “Oh! No.” He frowned. “No, I don’t want-” His face flushed rosily, and Madara made a curious noise, touching his cheek. “I don’t want you . . . to want anyone else. Either.”

Madara squirmed a little, pleased, the little ache easing.

Tobirama kissed his palm. “No, I meant . . . you could remind him instead that you got both, with me.” He paused, then smiled slightly. “My mother was a Hatake.” he added, eyes flicking from Madara’s own to his throat and back. “I take rather more after her,” he sighed, “as you can tell, no doubt.”

“. . .oh.” Madara said, and then laughed. “Oh, I didn’t know that. And Izuna can shove it.” he added, shaking his head.

Tobirama slid his arms around Madara’s shoulders and tugged him into a lingering, chaste kiss. “Always, in my book,” he said dryly, “but as you will. I don’t mind if it’s known more widely that I’m half Hatake, either.” He paused, sighing. “Now, much as I wish we could continue lingering here. . .”

“Meetings.” Madara finished grouchily. “Time? Time for breakfast first?”

“If we’re quick.” Tobirama said, stealing a kiss. “Are you cooking?” he asked, looking hopeful.

Madara grinned, pleased. “If you like.”

Chapter Text

Hashirama watched with wide eyes as Madara nearly stumbled when he got to his feet again, and definitely wobbled as he strode off. He hadn’t really thought Madara would get so drunk. . . He was going to get such a lecture and a disapproving look from his brother. . .

“Dance with me!” Madara cried suddenly. Oh no.

The man Madara had nearly fallen over onto looked up with wide, startled eyes. “. . .what?” Hashirama thought the man was a Yamanaka, though couldn’t place him by name.

Dance with me, c’mon, please?” Madara asked, tugging at Yamanaka’s arm.

Hashirama cringed. “Ah, Madara,” he began, “maybe you shouldn’t-”

“Hey, no! I’ll dance with you, handsome.” Yamanaka said with a slow smirk. “Any time, for such a lovely man.”

Madara grinned, a little sloppy, and stepped back. “Outside!” he cried, and Yamanaka cocked his head, asking why. “It would be rude to dance here.” Madara said with surprising patience, shaking his head.

“We can dance right here, handsome.” Yamanaka said, smiling and reaching for Madara, fingertips just shy of brushing his hip. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Madara hummed, then twisted and punched Yamanaka, catching him hard across the jaw and sending him backwards nearly into a table. Yamanaka didn’t even have time to let out a cry - at least, not until he was sprawled on the floor and reached up to brush his jaw with one hand. “What the hell was that for?” he demanded stridently.

Madara was pouting. “You promised to dance, but if that’s your best. . .”

“Madara, why don’t we-”

“Get off, Hashi!” Madara huffed, swatting at him. “Don’ want to dance with you. Splinters everywhere.” He pouted.

Hashirama sighed. “Sorry, sorry. . . Why don’t we go home, though, Madara, mm?” he coaxed hopefully, drawing Madara towards the door.

Until he planted his feet. “No.” Madara said, scowling. It was still rather pouty. “I want to dance!”

“You’re not his keeper, are you, Hokage-sama?” Yamanaka said, regaining his feet. “Although, fuck, someone clearly should be. The hell.” He rubbed his jaw. “You’re handsome but you’re not that handsome. I’ll dance with you if you’ll be nice about it.”

Madara turned towards him, scowl deepening, but before he could say anything else-

“I’ll dance with you, Madara.” Tobirama said, hand sliding over his shoulder. Madara brightened immediately, drawing himself up. “But you have to come outside . . . and promise me you’ll come home after.”

“Of course, Tobi!” Madara said adoringly, and followed Tobirama towards the door eagerly. Tobirama glared at Hashirama as they passed, and he winced. Tobirama said nothing, just took Madara outside. Hashirama went to pay their tab before following, a bit behind Yamanaka, who had gone after them.

“What the-” Yamanaka cut himself off, eyes bulging, standing in the doorway.

Hashirama peered past him. Tobirama was moving fast - too fast to be struck, but slow enough to lead Madara after him. Madara had rediscovered his usual grace once he began to fight, it seemed, and was perhaps not so smooth or polished as usual as he moved, but still a powerful, impressive figure.

. . .he was also still very drunk, however, and Tobirama won easily after letting Madara play with him for a short while.

Hashirama eyed Yamanaka. “They’re dancing.” he said, lips twisting wryly. “Madara’s term. And his favourite pastime.”

Yamanaka stared, and Hashirama shrugged, smiling sunnily and exiting past him just as Tobirama coaxed Madara back to his feet and on away from the bar.

Chapter Text

Madara pressed a kiss to the lowest curve of his lover’s ribs, biting lightly at the ridge as he gasped for breath. Madara smiled, raising his head, hand still steadily stroking Tobirama’s cock as he twisted helplessly under the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous like this.” Madara breathed, twisting his hand around Tobirama’s cock. He bucked into the stroke and Madara took his hand away with a light stroke over Tobirama’s hip. “No, no. . . Easy. . . Let me watch you.”

Tobirama whined, stomach fluttering as he breathed heavily. Madara bent and kissed it, hiding a smile with his bent head as his hair slid over his shoulder and across Tobirama’s skin. Tobirama moaned, writhing, and Madara stroked him, nudging his own hair aside and wrapping his hand around Tobirama’s cock again.

“Madara- Ah Mada please. . .” Tobirama moaned and rocked up into his touch.

“Shh. . .” Madara soothed, stroking Tobirama’s thigh. “I’ll take care of you. You’ll get everything you want, gorgeous.” he promised, a little breathless himself from the heated look in liquid crimson eyes. “Spread your legs, make room for me.”

Tobirama obeyed immediately, long legs splaying on either side of Madara where he knelt. “Madara. . .” he moaned softly.

“That’s it. . .” Madara stroked a little quicker, thumbing the tip of Tobirama’s cock. He shifted and leaned up, smoothing his palm over Tobirama’s chest. “So strong, so steady, but you’ll fall apart for me just because I ask, won’t you, gorgeous?”

Tobirama whimpered, biting his lip, lashes fluttering. Madara tweaked one nipple and he yelped, pushing into the touch, his cock twitching. Madara smiled. “I love how you look like this, how you feel, the little sounds you make. . . But you know what I love most?” he asked, and Tobirama shook his head - or possibly he was only thrashing, overcome. “I love how needy you are, just for me.”

Tobirama moaned throatily, hips arching into Madara’s hand. He reached up and stroked Tobirama’s reddened lips with his fingertips. “Suck them, gorgeous.” he said, rubbing two fingers over Tobirama’s lower lip.

Tobirama gasped and opened his mouth, tipping his head and letting Madara’s fingers slide in over his tongue, curling it around them and sucking sloppily.

“You love it, love this, but you want me inside, don’t you?” Madara asked, and Tobirama groaned softly, teeth grazing Madara’s knuckles. “You’ll get my fingers first,” he said, squeezing lightly near the base of Tobirama’s cock and pushing his fingers a little deeper into his lover’s mouth, “I’ll fuck you open with them until you’re ready to scream you want me so much,” Madara promised, licking his lips, “until you’re aching for it.”

Tobirama moaned his name, muddled by his fingers in his lover’s mouth, but familiar even like this, and Madara grinned, cock throbbing. He stroked Tobirama roughly and rocked his fingers a little in Tobirama’s mouth.

“And then,” Madara said, leaning over Tobirama, “I think I’ll play you with my fingers just a little bit more,” he punctuated each word with a gently-rough twist of his hand, “until you’re dizzy and shaking and your whole world is my hands and my voice. . .”

Tobirama keened, muffled and wet, cock twitching in Madara’s grip again.

“Wouldn’t you like that, gorgeous?” Madara asked softly, smiling, as Tobirama twisted and clutched at the sheets and moaned around his fingers.

Chapter Text

Tobirama whimpered softly, face pressed into his lover’s shoulder, his whole body throbbing and hot and aching and-

“Hush, gorgeous,” Madara soothed, one hand drifting up and down Tobirama’s back, “I have you, just breathe.”

Tobirama drew a deep breath, trembling, his muscles tightening. Madara shifted beneath him, voice a low rumble that thrummed through Tobirama’s chest as he continued to talk. It was just a little rough from his cries while he’d been fucking Tobirama . . . and perhaps from how much he had spoken.

Madara’s hand smoothed over his ass and Tobirama groaned softly as his inner muscles clenched. Madara had already cleaned him up, gently, but he ached with the aftermath of writhing on his lover’s fingers for so long, then being driven to a screaming orgasm on his cock when he finally, finally took Tobirama.

His fingers curled into Madara’s hair, splayed out on the bed beside and beneath them.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet like this, gorgeous.” Madara said softly, and Tobirama shivered, whining a protest and nestling closer into Madara’s shoulder. “All mine, and so gorgeous, and needy, and just a little bit wrecked. . .”

Tobirama groaned, shifting from the hips, and his breath caught as he moved and soreness and the dull heat of lingering pleasure washed through him.

“You’re too good.” Tobirama mumbled, and Madara tensed, shuddering, fingers twitching on Tobirama’s back. He smiled slightly. It was honest and he hadn’t thought about it, but the words were perhaps a little much for Madara.

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Madara murmured, shifting a little and kissing Tobirama’s temple.

He purred, throaty and a little rough, snug against Madara’s side and just about breathing properly once more. Madara kept stroking his back from time to time, and Tobirama wasn’t going to protest the caring attention, basking in the sweetness as he had in the sharp, demanding side when Madara had all but wrung his pleasure out of him with hands and voice and body.

Tobirama shivered, shaking his head a little, far too exhausted for interest to rekindle in his body now . . . no matter how sexy and maddening his lover was in such moods.

Chapter Text

“T- Tobi?” Madara called, shivering.

Tobirama appeared a breath later, though Madara hadn’t been very loud. “What is it, love?” he asked softly.

“Cold.” Madara said miserably, curling up even tighter.

Tobirama’s lips twisted. “You’re- It’s not cold, love.” he said gently, though he crossed to Madara’s side and sank down to sit on the futon. “You’re still working through that poison.”

Madara whined, but nodded. Tobirama sighed, looking rather miserable himself.

He bent and kissed Madara’s temple, tucking the one kakebuton he had over him a little closer. “How about some hot tea or broth, and then I’ll come curl up with you for a little while?” Tobirama offered softly, stroking Madara’s fringe - the only part of his hair not braided back - out of his face.

“. . .tea?” Madara asked, and Tobirama nodded, then kissed him softly.

“I’ll be back shortly, love.” Tobirama promised, and Madara whined, fingers curling into his pants or possibly the bottom of his shirt. Tobirama paused. “Madara?”

Madara whined again, shivering, but shook his head and let go. Tobirama smiled at him a little sadly and kissed him again, then rose and left him.

Madara knew it was the poison messing with him, and being cold and miserable, that made it feel that way. That made it so bad. It didn’t help the little miserable twist in his stomach or the renewed shivers. He curled up tighter and closed his eyes.

Tobirama was back soon, though, almost ghosting through the room - he was settling onto the futon before Madara realised he was there. He shifted to press close, and Tobirama hummed and helped him sit up, supporting him and settling a cup of tea in his hands. Madara drank it cuddled in his lover’s arms, feeling a bit of warmth seeping back into him, and then Tobirama put the cup aside and drew him down, cuddling almost around him, warm and heavy and very present.

Madara sighed, contentment edging in around his shivery cold and miserable feelings.

Chapter Text

“Down.” Tobirama said firmly, fingers running through his hair, curling and tugging near the nape of his neck as he made a vaguely confused, pleased sound. “Down.

A push between his shoulder blades added encouragement and Madara moved as directed, sinking to his knees, then folding forwards onto his hands as well, pinking. Tobirama hummed, one hand stroking his hip and ass, the other tugging lightly at his handful of Madara’s hair. A shiver ran down his spine.

“Is this how you want me?” Tobirama asked softly, fitting himself against Madara, hips snug against his ass, cock nestling against him.

Madara moaned, blush deepening, and bit his lip. Tobirama rolled his hips, pressing against Madara a little harder. “Is this what you want, Madara?” he repeated, dragging at Madara’s hair, fingertips brushing his back.

Madara whined, nodding; yes, damn it, it was what he’d asked for, and Tobirama hummed, almost a chuckle, behind him. It made him squirm. Tobirama squeezed his ass, then dropped his hand down to Madara’s thigh, nudging it out wider, then pushing at his back again.

Madara arched, glancing over his shoulder - heat flared through his whole body as he took in his lover kneeling behind him, over him, and he shivered - and Tobirama arched a brow, smiling slightly. Then he pushed, firmly.

Madara sank down slowly, folding his arms until he rested on his forearms rather than his hands, then, as Tobirama leaned into him, planting his face and shoulders against the bed with a shivery whine. Tobirama’s hips rolled, then pulled back, and Madara protested with a wordless cry even as Tobirama’s hand slid soothingly over his back.

Then he angled his cock against Madara’s slick, stretched ass and ever-so-gently slid into him. Madara keened, back arching and toes curling, but Tobirama rocked into him in gentle, tiny pushes and refused to be budged.

Madara was shaking and gasping by the time Tobirama was fully sheathed inside him, and he moaned as Tobirama stroked his sides and back soothingly. Then Tobirama pulled his hair, firmly enough to make his neck arch. “Ready?” he asked, rolling his hips shallowly.

Madara keened at the shift inside, twisting to look at Tobirama and feeling even hotter at the sight of him - slightly flushed, eyes glossy and heated, lips parted as he took deep, slightly too quick breaths. Madara still couldn’t muster words, but he pushed back into Tobirama as much as the strain of his position allowed.

Tobirama pushed down on his back firmly and pulled out, then fucked back into him hard enough to jar his hips when they came back together. Madara yowled, back arching and fingers tightening in the bedding as the hot, fast slide sent pleasure flooding through him.

Tobirama wound his hand into Madara’s hair and braced it between his shoulder blades, pinning Madara down hard and fucking into him even harder, keeping him pinned and working him towards screaming, muffled as he was into the bedding.

Chapter Text

Madara pulled up short hurriedly, just avoiding running into the ghostly silver feline crossing the room ahead of him. The cat’s tail curled and he looked over his shoulder at Madara, not quite hissing.

“Sorry.” Madara said, taking a step sideways.

The fluffy tail lashed. “It’s my place.” he said softly, and Madara frowned, confused, cocking his head. None of Tobirama’s cats had ever seemed . . . displeased with him before. . . It was a little upsetting that this one was now.

“I don’t-”

“When things go bad. When it’s rough.” the cat said, with a little hissing growl. “It’s my place to stay with him.” He raised his head, eyeing Madara, then slunk off at a quick pace, slipping around the cracked door and into Tobirama’s bedroom.

Madara continued to put out the lamps before he followed, tentatively.

“Hikomi. . .” Tobirama’s voice was soft and dull, and it made Madara’s heart hurt. His eyes burned and he fought back the feeling as he stepped inside and closed the door.

Hikomi was stretched out on the bed beside Tobirama, lying partially over his chest as Tobirama turned towards him, arms wrapping around his body. He must be squeezing Hikomi rather firmly, even allowing for the thickness of his fur, but he didn’t protest, nuzzling and licking Tobirama’s face.

“Hello, love.” Madara said softly, and Tobirama looked at him with a sound that might be a restrained sniffle. “May I. . ?” he asked, gesturing.

Tobirama slid over, shifting Hikomi along with him. Madara climbed into bed and pressed against Tobirama’s back, wrapping an arm around his lover and petting comfortingly, ignoring the soft brush of fur over the back of his fingers with each stroke.

Hikomi purred throatily as Tobirama shuddered and clung, simultaneously nestling deeper into Madara’s embrace. Hikomi met Madara’s eyes with a reserved, assessing look, then bent his head and rubbed against Tobirama’s jaw again.

Chapter Text

Madara made a breathless sound, half crushed and just shy of flailing. Hashirama was sobbing into his shoulder . . . but Tobirama wasn’t actually sure if the embrace was entirely friendly, given the force his brother was - quite visibly - exerting.

“Anija,” Tobirama said, huffing with effort as he wedged himself close against them and pried his brother off his boyfriend, “this is my Uchiha,” he dragged Madara, gasping for breath - possibly Hashirama’s clingy embrace had been a cover for an attempt at strangulation - a few steps away, and blocked him with his own body, “and I want to keep him,” he felt himself going pink, “so you may not break him.”

“Tobiii!” Hashirama wailed, eyes wide and wet. Madara was still gasping at his back, but his hands came up to Tobirama’s hips as he moved closer.

“Either by accident from . . . overemoting,” Tobirama continued, eyeing Hashirama warily, “or on purpose for kissing me.”

Hashirama made a strangled little squeaking noise. “He’s kissed you?”

Madara groaned, head dropping to rest against Tobirama’s shoulder as Tobirama stepped back, bumping into him, eyes widening. “Well,” Madara said, “it was nice. This is how I die, apparently. . .”

Tobirama made a confused noise, twisting to look at Madara, and almost missed Hashirama diving for them.


Tobirama stared at his brother, clinging protectively to Madara. “Anija!” he snapped, scowling. “Madara is your best friend! And my boyfriend! There will be no mokuton impalements! No impalements of any kind!”

“He kissed you!” Hashirama wailed, looking halfway between delight and despair. No one should be able to manage that, but Hashirama had always been . . . strange.

“I kissed him back!” Tobirama shouted, feeling his cheeks warming further. “I wanted him to kiss me!”


“I’m so glad we didn’t put this conversation off.” Madara muttered, and Tobirama giggled, leaning against him.

“At least we’re talking to him together and you didn’t have to face him alone after he found out?” Tobirama said quietly, and Madara’s eyes widened as he paled. “It’s all right. I won’t let him actually hurt you. I meant it,” he added, caressing Madara’s face as even as he ducked his head, “you’re my Uchiha.”

Madara’s expression softened, a slightly silly smile spreading across his face as his hands tightened on Tobirama’s hips. “And you’re my red-eyed beauty.” he said quietly, making Tobirama squirm.

Chapter Text

“Oh, Madara!” Hashirama greeted with a smile. Madara tilted his head to one side. Oh, Madara? “Erm?”

Madara rubbed his temple with two fingers. “The meeting? With the Yamanaka bastard?”

Hashirama’s eyes widened and his mouth popped open.

“You forgot.” Madara said flatly.

“Sorry!” Hashirama said, grabbing Madara’s forearm with both hands. “Forgive me! I’ll get ready right now! Here, come inside.” He tugged Madara over the threshold before he could even think of protesting it wasn’t necessary - he could even head on to the Tower himself and Hashirama could catch up when he was ready.

“I suppose, if you’ve forgotten, there’s no chance it was after you managed to put together one of those amazingly useful assessments?” Madara asked with a sigh, not holding out much hope. He had no idea how Hashirama managed, his focus was so scrambled most of the time, but meetings and negotiations always went a dozen times more smoothly when he had, and there were points of the situation, negotiator, Clan, and Clan head all at their fingertips when they were actually working out details.

“I managed. . . Oh!” Hashirama clapped his hands. “Oh I don’t do those! I wouldn’t know how.” He laughed, and Madara blinked. He supposed it would make more sense that it wasn’t Hashirama, and making them up wasn’t directly being involved, which his Uzumaki wife had refused to consider. . . “I didn’t ask, though. You should talk to Tobi! He’s in there.” Hashirama pointed and then pushed, and Madara, startled, caught himself on the doorframe.

“What?” Madara demanded, whirling, but Hashirama was already gone. He almost yelled after his best friend, but Hashirama did need to get ready for their meeting. His sloppy yukata wouldn’t do.

Madara opened the door and stepped through. “So, Senju, your brother tells me-” he faltered.

Tobirama looked up, the almost silly soft expression on his face - the Suiton Demon could do soft? - clearing into sharp, startled lines. “Madara. What do you want?” he asked, his tone even.

He was- He was holding a kitten. The little white puff barely filled one of his hands, but they were cradled between them both all the same. There was another, mottled dark grey and black, perched on his shoulder.

“Madara?” Tobirama prompted, and Madara shook his head slightly.

“Summoner?” one of the kittens on the floor mewed, pawing at Tobirama’s knee. His expression softened again instantly as his gaze dropped to her, and he freed one hand - cupping the white kitten in the other, safe against his chest - to stroke over her tiny head.

It was . . . amazingly adorable. Madara’s chest felt tight.

“Madara! Tobi! Ah! Madara, did you ask? Tobi, eto. . .” Hashirama fidgeted, and Tobirama gave him a sharp look. “Did you happen to make up one of those things,” he flapped a hand, “about, erm. . .”

“The Yamanaka meeting?” Tobirama asked, sighing. “You forgot again.”

“Madara asked about the papers.” Hashirama said, then fidgeted. “And came to get me.”

“Madara did?” Tobirama asked, eyebrows arching.

“He did! He said they were amazingly useful!” Hashirama said with no compunction.

Tobirama’s gaze slid to Madara. “Did you.”

“They- They are!” Madara said loudly, scowling. “Things always go better when we have them, damn it, and Yamanaka is a slick bastard and I- Well.” He huffed.

“Thank you.” Tobirama said, lips quirking. “I’m glad someone appreciates the work I put into them. There’s a packet made up for it.” He tilted his head, pointing with his chin to a shelf along the wall.

Chapter Text

Tobirama paused at the soft, mournful, almost-whine more than the gentle clasp around his ribs. “. . .love?” he questioned quietly.

Madara looked up at Tobirama, shaded by his wild fringe. “Sorry.” he said softly, and kissed Tobirama’s side, sighing as he very slowly let go. “I only. . . Not ready to let go.” he said with a half-shrug, pulling back and tucking his arms in against his own chest.

Tobirama eyed him for a moment.

Tobirama brought up his hands, a moment’s effort bringing a clone into being. He nodded at himself, then slid closer across the bed once more, running a hand over Madara’s chest as he lay down, hooking one thigh over his lover’s.

Madara looked at him with wide eyes, but pressed into him immediately, winding an arm around him once more. “. . .Tobi?”

“The clone will take in the papers Anija needs today,” Tobirama said as the door closed behind him, “and tell him we’re both taking the day off.”

Madara’s breath caught, and Tobirama kissed him lightly.

“I missed you, too.” Tobirama said quietly, running a hand up and down Madara’s back. “It was . . . a very long mission.”

“Love you.” Madara said simply, and Tobirama curled around him, bowing his head until his fringe meshed with Madara’s in a silver-and-shadow riot, not quite blocking their gaze.

Tobirama smiled slightly, shifting against Madara’s gentle hold on him. “Love you.” he returned.

Chapter Text

“To- Ah, Tobirama-san? Can- Would you. . .” Madara coughed quietly. “Would you stay back, so I may speak with you?”

Tobirama blinked and glanced at his brother, then drifted closer again. “If you wish. . .” he said slowly, and Hashirama lingered, damn him. Madara huffed and ducked his head, glaring at his friend from behind his hair, falling forwards over his shoulders.

Hashirama pouted, but slowly moved off further. “I’ll . . . see you at home, then, Tobi?”

Tobirama waved a hand, watching Madara. They were silent for a few moments, and then- “He’s left. What did you wish to speak with me about?” Tobirama asked, tilting his head to one side.

Madara inched closer. “It’s . . . maybe not . . . that I need to speak with you,” he paused, “although . . . I do.”

Tobirama’s brows drew together and he frowned at Madara, making the red slashes on his face tug into little arcs. Madara dragged his eyes away from them again, taking a detour at his soft mouth, which looked faintly plush with his frown.

“What, then?” Tobirama asked, not yet impatient but probably heading that way, Madara thought, knowing him.

Madara opened his mouth, then closed it, fidgeting. Then he stepped quickly closer and tilted his head up - it was unfair; Tobirama was over a year younger than he was and two years ago he had suddenly grown taller than Madara and stayed taller - pressing a kiss to Tobirama’s cheek, just at the corner of his mouth.

Tobirama stiffened, his pretty eyes wide as he looked down at Madara, mouth open and working silently for a moment. “I- Madara?

“Erm. That. Was what,” Madara swallowed nervously, “I wanted to talk- Er. That I want- You’re very pretty.” he said weakly.

Tobirama blinked rapidly, then pinked around his red tattoos as he looked away.

“I didn’t want to- With your brother. . .” Madara shuddered at the thought, and was surprised when Tobirama giggled. He didn’t know Tobirama could giggle. It was-

It was adorable. And made him a little nervous.

“You know Anija is going to cry on you,” Tobirama said, a smile beginning to soften his mouth, “and maybe try to kill you.”

“. . .what?” Madara said, because he had been about to point out he was used to Hashirama crying on him - much as he wished his twig-brained best friend would stop - but. . .

Madara froze as Tobirama kissed him softly. “He’s a rather overbearing Anija. But he does like you. So he probably won’t try too hard.”

Madara didn’t really register the words, too absorbed in the gentle kiss that had come before them, even as Tobirama spoke again - Madara managed a response and hoped it had been sensible - and then took his leave with another fleeting kiss.

Madara suppressed a giddy giggle of his own and brushed his fingers over his lips as he turned and hurried to start home. Izuna, kept back by a training injury - it was his own fault he’d broken his ankle, honestly, what kind of shinobi stepped in a vole burrow - was going to be beside himself fretting over Madara meeting with the Senju brothers without him again even without Madara being late, he knew.

Chapter Text

Tobirama stirred slowly, tail beginning to uncurl as he felt warmth bathing him and the safe, tucked-away cavern that was the innermost den of the shared lair. Kagami, tucked up safe against his chest, inside his folded legs and beneath his wing, only curled up tighter and nestled against Tobirama’s breast.

The feathery warmth of flames washed over him, then away, and Tobirama shivered, his crest standing on end. Then a deeper, banked heat wrapped around him and he chirred contentedly, pressing into the firm embrace.

A gentle nudge of an angular muzzle against his neck and Tobirama let himself unwind a little, stretching out his neck and resting his head on the rocky slope of the floor as his mate’s head tucked up along his jaw.

Tobirama continued to slowly rise from his long sleep, every so often shifting into a little more open position, or nudging backwards into his mate, who nuzzled and cuddled comfortably, waiting. Their dragonet was still soundly sleeping, cuddled to Tobirama’s body and soaking in his warmth.

Kagami remained asleep even when Tobirama finally opened his eyes, tilting his head and finally nuzzling Madara in return. Madara’s eyes were bright and his nuzzling touch eager in return. Tobirama nosed up just under his eye, sighing.

“Thank you for watching over us.” Tobirama said softly, voice rumbling up from his chest and making Kagami chirp sleepily and wriggle against him.

“Always and forever.” Madara promised, chirring affectionately.

They lingered, exchanging soft nudges and cuddling into one another, for a long, lazy time before Tobirama finally sighed and began pulling himself to his feet. Kagami whimpered and they curled around him cosily.

“Time to wake, my little one.” Madara crooned, his eyes soft as he tugged Kagami towards himself. Kagami was young and his sleep longer, but he had slept with Madara for years as Tobirama kept watch, and barely woken as they traded places, leaving Tobirama to sleep, curled around him, sheltering him, and Madara to keep them safe.

It was time for even a dragonet to wake, and eat, and fly.