Chapter Text
“So …”
Madara didn’t want to look at the man lying by his side. He was feeling too much of him already. His sweaty skin against his, his body heat keeping him warm despite the lack of blanket, of clothes and the cold temperatures of the harsh winter filtering through the walls and making his bedroom feel like an old cave. The recognizable tingling all over his body and the overall good feeling he couldn’t ignore.
It was too much and not enough at the same time. If anything, Madara wanted more of this, more of him. A need he never imagined he would have, considering.
Because this man .. this precise man, he spent half his life hating him. Ever since that day by the river, when they were kids, when he fought Izuna for the first time in front of their father, breaking the friendship he and Hashirama built themselves in secret, to the day he almost killed his remaining brother. That fateful day on the battlefield when Madara saw the truth, that Izuna wasn’t immortal and that the war between their clans had to be stopped in order for his last brother to survive.
They became more courteous toward each other lately, for Konoha’s sake. It was a wonder, to some, that they didn’t kill each other just yet. But they shared ideas and ideals. Not the same way he did with Hashirama, as the older Senju was a man with big dreams and sometimes forgot about the reality of things.
Tobirama was grounded. He saw things the way they were, rather than what they could or should be. He was a man of ideals, too, but he knew the limits of his own ideas and was willing to fight these limits if needed, rather than hope they would disappear on their own. And harshly did he fight for them.
Madara was fully aware of the exact moment when his point of view on Tobirama changed. It had been one heated fight. The kind they often had before Konoha even had a name. The reason for the fight was forgotten, Madara couldn’t recall what started it, nor how they sorted it out. But it was the day he realized that Tobirama was more than just the heartless bastard that almost killed his brother. As if something clicked in his brain and Madara, eventually, stated Tobirama was right. Which almost provoked a massive, collective heart attack to all the people around them.
He didn’t care. For Madara was a prideful man, but not an idiot. Tobirama had been right. It would have been ridiculous to stubbornly deny it.
Glancing at Tobirama, Madara pursed his lips, happy the other wouldn’t see.
Despite everything, they weren’t friends. Colleagues, at most. They worked well together, they were efficient and didn’t always need words to understand each other. Sometimes, it freaked Hashirama out when he took the time to observe them. He kept saying they were weird. Madara was glad to ignore his friend’s words in these moments.
Still. How could this ever lead to sex ? Good sex, even. Better sex than Madara ever had, not that he'd ever admit it. There was no alcohol, no drug of any sort before they reached his place. They merely had dinner together at that place that closed late in the night after catching up Hashirama’s late paperwork during the evening, talking about this or that thing that would be needed to be done the next day. Then, since it was on his way, Tobirama had walked with him to his home, in silence. Only their steps to be heard on the snowy path as they had made no effort to make them silent.
Madara still didn’t know what happened. He had turned around, when they had reached his home. He had seen how close Tobirama was standing, eyes focused on him but his expression neutral as it always was. Fluffy flakes of snow disappearing in the whiteness of his hair and his thick fur collar. They both had been cold, that much had been obvious and Madara remembered leaning forward, just a little. Hoping to share some body heat. Just for a second.
Before he could think of anything else, they were kissing. A slow, gentle, intense kiss that none of them in particular started. Their lips met halfway and they kissed and Madara knew that Tobirama didn’t care either who started it. It was a good kiss anyways. Who cared for details ?
Madara remembered slipping his freezing hands under the fur collar, to warm them up and Tobirama moaning appreciatively, as he stepped closer and pushed his back against the door. They never stopped kissing. They touched. Tobirama more than Madara, as Madara had been too happy to keep his hands warm under the fur, but Tobirama didn’t hesitate. He touched his cheeks, rubbing thumbs on them, his neck, that he grabbed in a forceful way for a second before relaxing. He touched his chest, circled his waist, lingered on his butt for a long time, which turned Madara on so much. He touched his cock, over his clothes, after asking if he could and Madara, too overwhelmed, nodded rather than spoke his consent.
It took Madara only a dozen of seconds of these caresses to pull Tobirama inside and lead him to his bedroom. His very cold and not so comfortable bedroom but the only place he would do such a thing in. Madara was a man of traditions, after all. Sex belonged to the bedroom and they weren’t cold for a long time anyways. He wasn't, when he found his space between Tobirama’s thighs, and seeing the red hue on Tobirama’s skin as they danced together, the Senju wasn’t either.
Now ? Now he was. Madara couldn’t stop thinking about the kotatsu in the main room, where he had been sleeping ever since the winter settled over Konoha. But moving didn’t seem really appealing at the moment. He might get sick but .. it wasn’t that bad, if it meant not facing the reality just yet.
For he was .. awkward. Very much so. What the hell were they supposed to do now ?
But the orgasm he just had. Literally mind blowing. They didn’t do out of the ordinary stuff like Izuna often enjoyed talking about with him. Madara didn’t have enough experience to, well, try things he never did before. Not that Tobirama seemed to mind. Not with how easily he parted his legs, how he always kissed back and how he too found his pleasure in the act, if the dried sperm on his belly was any hint of it. If anything, Madara couldn’t help wondering if he couldn’t have done more. He did that thing, once, when he placed his partner on his belly and took him like this. He loved a nice back, after all. And Tobirama was a beautiful man but he just didn’t think about it when in the act. Too focused on .. what ? His own pleasure ? Not only. Seeing Tobirama’s eyes roll back and hearing his moans and the way he groaned his name .. Madara couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy himself. He couldn't say he didn’t love it.
Overall, Madara was stunned. That they went from .. colleagues to .. this, whatever it was. What were they to begin with ? Lovers? Bedmates? Was it meant to end tonight ? To last ? So many questions and Madara didn’t want to answer them just yet. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to try.
“I’m cold.”
Tobirama’s voice was rough. The same way it always was when Tobirama was tired. Working with him for so much time had taught Madara a lot of things about the man. The different tones of his voice, the little changes in his expression when one feeling became greater than the other. It was always weird to realize how much Madara knew that man. Without even trying.
Tobirama was cold, then. Madara was as well and he was trying to convince himself to move, in order to go grab a blanket when Tobirama beat him to it.
Before Madara could react, there was an arm around his belly, lips pushing soft kisses against his shoulder and Tobirama nuzzling his skin slowly. Madara wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, on the moment, stunned with the unexpected affection, with the easiness in the gesture and the comfort he was feeling and he resisted, for a minute or two, until he relaxed and let his head rest against Tobirama’s. He still was cold. But not as much as before and for that, he was thankful. Kind of. He still didn’t know what to do with himself, or with the situation.
“Madara ?”
He blinked. Madara wasn’t used to hear his own name being said in such a soft tone, he wasn’t used to hear fondness in it. Izuna barely ever used his full name, unless it was important, going with Mada instead because Izuna loved to shorten everyone’s name. Or Anija. Hashirama .. rather liked screaming it excitingly. As for his clan, they called him by his rank, rather than his name. It made his chest swell in a rather uncomfortable way. But it didn’t mean he didn’t like it.
“You can ask me to leave, if that’s what you want,” Tobirama continued, in a tone similar as before.
Did he want that ? Madara didn’t know. Being there with Tobirama, even if cold, wasn’t that bad. Awkward, yes, more than it ever was with his previous .. whatever they were, but he didn’t feel the same need to push him away and out of his bed. The idea of Tobirama staying for a while didn’t bother him either. He didn’t mind the cuddle either. He wasn’t too comfortable, Madara would admit it without shame but he didn’t want to get away as soon as possible.
Which was another kind of weird. But his brain still was too mushy with his orgasm to make any sense out of it for now.
“Or I can stay, if you promise we’ll sleep under the kotatsu.”
That .. was a good idea. A very good one and Madara wondered, for a moment, when was the last time he shared a kotatsu with anyone. Years ago. More than a decade ago, probably, when he was a kid and he and Izuna had been allowed to snuggle under the table and sleep there during a harsh winter. Madara remembered holding his little brother’s freezing hands and blowing on them to warm them up, he remembered the blue hue at the tip of his fingers. They never were as agile as before, after that winter. Even now, even with how Izuna spent years and years trying to overcome it, his fingers still were stiff. It never bothered him much during a fight. But one should never ask Izuna to write in front of them. Not that he wrote much anymore since he gave him out his eyes.
“Madara?”
This time, Madara turned his head. Slowly, as he still was feeling completely out of this world, he looked at Tobirama’s eyes. Then he glanced at his lips and before he could speak, Tobirama was kissing him. That … felt good. It did and it took Madara a second to realize he had closed his eyes and was relaxing under the gesture, and Tobirama’s fingers tracing soft lines on his belly.
Cold fingers. It wasn’t as enjoyable as before, when Tobirama touched him on the threshold of his home, despite how it had been outside and how it had been cold as well. Madara shied away from the touch, shivering, he looked at Tobirama’s eyes again, then he turned away, sat up on the futon.
“The kotatsu has been heating up all day,” he whispered, looking around for the yukata he knew was there, somewhere. “Let’s …”
He didn’t know how to say it, so he stopped talking. Then, his eyes landed on the piece of clothing he had been looking for, he stood, slid it on his body trying not to hiss at the freezing sensation of the silk on his skin and he left the bedroom. Even the corridor wasn’t as cold as the room. It wasn’t heated but the warmth came from the bathroom and the fire keeping the water warm under the bathtub. A bath sounded quite good at the moment, Madara thought as he walked past the door but the kotatsu was more appealing.
It took Madara a moment to catch the faint sound of Tobirama’s steps behind him. Bare feet on tatamis were quite silent after all and Tobirama was known for his stealth. Among many other things. It was even a wonder he made any noise but Madara thought it was on purpose. In order not to startle him, or make him feel uncomfortable. Madara would rather hear someone behind his back, after all. It was reassuring, in a way.
“Do you want tea ?” Tobirama eventually asked, standing not far from him as Madara was tying his yukata properly because he was going to sleep with it anyways. Did he want tea ? Was Tobirama going to make himself home and prepare them tea ? How could he be that comfortable ? But a glance toward the other convinced him of the contrary. Tobirama was very much awkward as well. Tense and on his toes, as if he was expecting something to go wrong and Madara nodded.
He waited for Tobirama to disappear, naked, behind the kitchen door to move to the kotatsu, slip his legs under the thick blanket and hum at how hot it was underneath. Too hot, almost but he couldn’t care less. It was way better than his bedroom. Gods, it was.
Should have they had sex there ? But it wasn’t proper, was it ? Sex belonged to the bedroom, despite all Izuna might say. Izuna never was very proper, after all. If anything, he was wanton. Very much so and it had been frowned upon by the whole clan. Madara didn’t care, as long as Izuna was happy. It was all that mattered to him. All that ever mattered.
Tobirama arrived with tea after a couple of minutes. Still naked, still uncaring and he sat by his side, his thigh pressing against his under the blanket, as he was pouring them cups. It was going to be strong, Madara realized as the smell assaulted his nose. Exactly what he needed at the moment.
They didn’t speak, as they drank. Madara didn't know what to say, Tobirama was lost in thoughts and it was better this way. What would they say anyways ? What should they say ? Speak of what happened ? Having sex wasn’t such a feat, was it ? Not something Madara indulged in often, finding a partner that was pleasing both to his eye and his mind never was easy. Oh, he received offers. Many of them. From women and men alike, some for their own interest, some not even knowing who he was to begin with, back when they left the country for some foreign campaign. He tried both. Women usually had troubles keeping him hard. Only one of them ever succeeded. It always was easier with men, even if frowned upon because two men couldn’t produce children. But nothing was said, as long as Love was part of it.
Did Madara ever feel Love? No. Not this kind of love anyways. He loved Izuna, he loved his cousins, his only remaining family. He loved his clan and cared for each and every member of it. He loved Hashirama as a brother and Konoha as his greatest achievement.
Then, Madara glanced toward Tobirama. He didn’t love Tobirama. He had grown to accept his presence, to acknowledge his work and his intelligence. They worked well together. But something did lead them to this, didn’t it ? Something that wasn’t only respect. Respect didn’t lead to sex, or else, Madara would have slept with several other people, including Hashirama himself. And his wife.
“Are they going to deactivate ?”
Madara blinked. Then he looked into Tobirama’s eyes, he saw them shifting as he was doing his best to maintain the contact. It probably wasn’t easy for him. It was no wonder, he spent years fearing them, after all. But he wasn’t afraid tonight. His reaction was but a reflex and he was fighting it, in order to keep looking at him, in the eyes, and not away. Madara couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He couldn’t say he didn’t want to keep them active, to remember every little details he was noticing at the moment. Hyper aware and hyper focused.
Tobirama kissed him again. He seemed fond of the gesture and Madara closed his eyes. He could taste the tea on Tobirama’s tongue and it was sweet. His fingers weren’t as cold anymore when he touched his cheek. That was good.
“Eventually,” Madara answered when they parted. The sharingan tended to activate on itself when their owner felt strong emotions. It never happened to him but Izuna talked about it many times before, saying how floaty it made him feel. Was it why he was feeling floaty at the moment ? Madara was quite sure it came from the orgasm but… maybe the sharingan did help. He liked how he was feeling anyways. It was different. And good.
“Do you want more tea ?”
Madara's eyes shifted to his empty cup, wondering if he drank that much of it. There were times when he would have never accepted anything from that man, feeling like Tobirama would happily poison him. He didn’t think twice when he drank, tonight. He wouldn’t if he went for another cup either. He trusted Tobirama not to try and kill him after what happened. If it meant anything to him. But Madara shook his head, because more tea meant he’d have to leave the kotatsu during the night to go pee and Tobirama poured himself another cup, leaning on one hand as he was drinking it.
Settling down, Madara pulled his small pillow from under the table. He still didn’t know if he wanted Tobirama to stay or to leave. The men he had sex with before all left after the deed was done, quick to go back to their life after bedding him and Madara never cared much about it. He didn’t care if they bragged either, for having sex with him, as long as they didn’t wrong him in any way. Some tried. Some of their bones were broken.
He was tired now, though. The sharingan were draining his chakra slowly but it wasn’t all. The characteristic soreness that came after sex was settling its weight over his body, his muscles a little tense and Madara wanted to sleep now. He still was stunned, he still was awkward and he didn’t know what to say or if he should speak at all. Tobirama was right there, behind his back, naked and drinking his second cup of tea oh so slowly and Madara closed his eyes, waiting.
He let Tobirama choose and Tobirama, after bringing the cups back to the kitchen and turning some of the oil lamps off, settled behind his back. His body against his, hips against his butt, head finding a small free space on his pillow. Tobirama kissed the back of his neck, sending shivers up his spine, he wrapped an arm around his waist, fingers brushing against his for a moment but then stopping. He hummed and he sighed.
“Goodnight, Madara,” he whispered.
Madara didn’t answer. He wasn’t pretending he was asleep, fooling someone like Tobirama wouldn’t be that easy, as the man was a talented shinobi and a sensor. Why would he even try fooling him ? It was stupid. But, even there, with Tobirama against his back, Madara was relaxed. A thousand of questions in mind, lots of things to figure out but it could wait, couldn’t it ?
Still. There was something he couldn’t stop thinking about. Something that kept him awake so later after Tobirama’s breathing settled as he obviously had fallen asleep. Madara wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the information, he wasn't sure he was supposed to do anything at all to begin with.
But it was obvious. This night wouldn’t have happened without it. None of it would have happened.
For he liked Tobirama. Didn’t he?