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Tajima was a warlord, and ruled over a sizable area of land. This inevitably meant he had enemies, and as such he worried for his children. Especially his daughters. His sons had training in martial arts and the magical arts, while his daughters had training as healers, as was befitting their gender and status. Myoko-chan had begged him to let them learn martial-arts as well, but he knew that if rumors reached the daimyō of his daughters having such an unseemly skill they would never find a worthy husband. So he decided that he needed to find them a guardian instead.
The land had been scoured for suitable candidates, but Tajima would never agree to human guards, as they would surely be tempted by the beauty of the Uchiha sisters. No, he went for something grand, something no other warlord had—A dragon. It was captured, trapped with seals, bound to his service, and bound to the castle where he and his children resided. It could roam the castle grounds, and den in the cellars, but was prevented from harming any of the Uchiha family on pain of death. It was also to not harm the staff unless the staff presented a threat to the family.
Merely the rumor that they had gotten a dragon to guard the castle was enough to keep most would-be kidnappers at bay, which was a good thing, since the dragon spent the first months of his captivity sulking in the deepest parts of the cellars.
⁂
Tobirama had just gotten out of a years long hibernation, and had not been entirely awake when he was attacked. Given that there had been no killing intent radiating from his attackers, he had assumed they were only after a scale or something for a magical potion or amulet, so he had not bothered to fight back as much as he would have had he known their true intent. By the time he realized what they really were after, he was already bound with seals, and being loaded onto a train of carts drawn by twelve horses. It took twenty mages to levitate his long body into place, and even then they had to coil up the tip of his tail to fit it onto the last cart.
Not sure where they were taking him, Tobirama didn’t bother to fight the seals, deciding to instead preserve his strength. If they wanted him alive, then it would only be a matter of time before he could escape. And should they wish to kill him… Well, they would be in for a surprise. After the death of his younger brothers at the hands of so-called heroes, Tobirama had prepared a nasty surprise should anyone ever manage to overpower him. The Edo Tensei seal would draw upon chakra from the nature around him, making him even more powerful in death than he was in life. So, yes, Tobirama was not truly worried.
Annoyed, yes. Frustrated, yes. Upset with himself for making the mistake of not fighting more despite the lack of killing intent, yes. Worried, no.
Then they arrived at their destination. A large castle with a wide moat around, and a narrow bridge leading to the gate. As they traversed the bridge, he could see some of the humans examining the bridge as they passed. Presumably they were concerned that it might collapse under the weight of the dragon, but nothing happened. Not that Tobirama would have been worried if it had. He was a water-natured dragon after all. Over water or underwater, it was all the same to him. In fact, the moat looked like it had a thriving ecosystem that included a lot of fish, if the few humans seated along the edge of it with fishing-rods was any indication. You never knew with humans. They could be fishing out of hope, with nothing to show for at the end of the day. Still, it had been a while since Tobirama last ate anything, and fresh fish was always a favorite.
Then they were over the bridge, and passed through the gate. In the courtyard, another large group of mages stood. They joined the ones that had been in the party that captured Tobirama, and formed a circle around the cart. Meanwhile, the soldiers unhitched all the horses and led them away. Even a couple of dogs that had been roaming the courtyard were captured and carried off, leaving Tobirama the only living thing within the circle. Well, besides lots of bugs, worms, a few mice and rats living underneath the stonework, and a single cat that had hidden inside a basket on one of the carts. Tobirama felt pity for the cat. Clearly, whatever the mages were going to do to him, it would also happen to the cat.
He closed his eyes, preparing for the transformation into his Edo Tensei self.
When the magic washed over him, he tensed up. Then his eyes snapped open in confusion. They had not killed him. What he could feel was an altered binding. His body could move again, but there were invisible shackles on him. Binding him to… the castle itself?
He prodded at the range, finding that the walls were the anchor for the barrier, meaning he could only fly as high as the tallest tower, and only go as far down as the deepest cellar. The moat was out of his reach.
A noise distracted him. The cat flew out of the basket, fur standing on end and it hissed, batting at the air around it. Ah, it too had been bound to the castle.
One of the younger mages hurried over to catch the feline, trapping it inside his outer robe, looking a little apologetic.
Well, if they felt sorry for an animal, perhaps they would not torment Tobirama at least.
Then a pompous-looking elder mage stepped up in front of Tobirama’s face, and started to read from a scroll, explaining what Tobirama’s new duties were. To guard the castle, and its inhabitants, primarily the family of Uchiha Tajima-sama. Tobirama lifted his head, staring at the little human with an unimpressed look. They had turned him into a glorified guard-dog! He exhaled through his nose in a huff, sending the hair and clothes of the mage fluttering, leaving him looking ruffled and put upon.
Well, if they wanted him to serve them, the least they could do was feed him.
Uncoiling himself from the carts, hearing wood splintering as some of the sides gave way, he sniffed the air and set out towards where he assumed the castle’s kitchens were located. People scattered out of his way, and he felt several of the mages prepare spells, only to have them splutter out when it became clear that he was not attacking. The braver of them ran after him, but Tobirama ignored them.
The doorways were just tall enough for him to get underneath, and just wide enough that he could squeeze his shoulders past. Undulating through the corridors, up one set of stairs and down another, he finally found what his nose had told him would be there—a large and bustling kitchen, spread out over several interlocking rooms. The staff made various noises of shock and fear, before quickly backing away from him. But Tobirama only had eyes for one thing. Well, two if he was precise. Two large baskets filled with raw fish.
Ignoring how undignified it probably looked, he stuck his snout into the first basket, using his long serpentine tongue to scoop the fish into his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing it down. When the first basket was empty of anything but slime and fish-scales, he set upon the second, clearing that out as well. Then, belly full, he decided to find himself somewhere to den down, far away from the noise and stress of the humans.
Using his long whiskers, he mapped out the immediate structure of the castle by vibrations through both the air and the walls. It became easier once he found areas of the castle built solely out of stone. Deeper and deeper into the immense constructed cave-system he delved, going past rooms that housed human dens, weapon storage, food storage, barrels and barrels of strong-smelling liquids, the straw-covered floors of prison-cells, and what looked like storage for unused furniture or other junk. Then, at last, he found some large, empty spaces. Whatever this area had been intended for, it was not used for that anymore, though faint traces of old magic, and barely-there lines on the floor suggested that it might have been something related to rituals. In any case, this was now Tobirama’s space. Since they had bound him to the castle, this was the least they owed him.
Settling down into a pile of coils, head resting on top, Tobirama started to spread his senses out, taking stock of every living thing within his new, limited domain. The cat that had been bound together with him was now inside one of the rooms high up in the central building. It felt no worse for wear, so presumably the mage that had picked it up had decided to care for it.
Most of the castle was filled with humans milling about, but there were a few areas that were more quiet. One wing housed only females, and another held only strong and fit humans. He assumed the first was the wing where the daughters of Tajima lived, as humans had strange ideas about sex and when it was permitted. The other wing was presumably where the soldiers denned.
Then there was one space that Tobirama found curious. It housed a large collection of paper. Now, through his long life, Tobirama had seen his fair share of scrolls and books, but never so many collected into one place. Perhaps his captivity would not be such a boring experience after all?
Waiting in his new den for a few days to see what the humans would do, Tobirama was mildly amused to find that they had taken to leaving a large basket full of fish in the hall outside every morning. Keeping him fed to avoid him deciding to snack on something else? Given that the moat was out of reach, it was not something Tobirama would complain about. Though, despite his large meal on the first day, a whole basket full every day was slightly more than he needed. If they kept it up, he would grow fat. Still, a petty part of him appreciated the inconvenience it surely was for the humans to have to provide for him, so he was not about to reveal to them that he didn’t eat it all. Instead, on the third day, he waited until the coast was clear, then he changed shape and took to carrying the remaining fish out, distributing it among the cats and dogs in the castle.
On the fourth day, he snuck into the castle’s laundry house and stole some clothes that looked like what the humans scurrying around in the castle wore, the ones that did all the labor. He had seen in earlier interactions with humans how they were overlooked for the most part, so he figured it would be the best disguise. Then he changed into a human shape and sought out the collection of paper.
It was indeed a library, and it was wast. It would likely take him years to work his way through everything. Delighted, Tobirama found something that looked interesting, and picked a quiet and remote corner, settling down to read.
⁂
Returning to the Uchiha castle after a month of checking up on the borders, Madara had immediately spent hours in the bath-house before sleeping for ten hours. Refreshed, and having had a good breakfast, he visited with his sisters. There he learned more about the newest addition to the security-force.
Myoko and Kurohime had only seen the dragon from the windows in the upper floors, but their handmaids had brought them rumors from the other servants. How the dragon had consumed enough fish in one meal to feed half of the soldiers for a day. How it had claimed the deepest parts of the cellars for its own, and had not left the space since. Madara was intrigued, and their descriptions of the beast only served to heighten his curiosity—Tall as a horse, with a long and narrow body like a serpent. Shimmering white scales that reflected the light in every hue of the rainbow but mostly shades of blue and red. Red whiskers and red eyes, as well as red lines running the length of the body. Madara thought it sounded beautiful, and he could not resist the temptation to sneak down and take a peek.
When he peered into the room, all he could see in the limited light from his lamp were coils of white scales, the red stripes visible here and there, but the head was hidden from view even when he lifted his lantern higher and shuffled quietly along the wall. Slightly disappointed, he left, hoping that the dragon would emerge from the cellars soon so he could see it in all its glory in proper light.
Two days later, while still on his mandated rest and with no signs of the dragon leaving the cellars, Madara was bored and decided to find something to read. According to Hikaku, they had received several new books and a crate full of scrolls while he was away on patrol, so he had hopes that there might be something interesting among those things.
As he walked along the shelves, something caught his eye. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he thought it was the dragon, then he realized that it was a human with hair so white it gleamed in the light from the windows. Initially he thought it was one of the elder mages, but when he got closer he recognized the uniform the servants wore. About to scold the man for shirking his duties, Madara’s voice caught in his throat when the man looked up. He was beautiful. A somewhat vulpine face with narrow eyes, skin so pale it looked nearly translucent, and intriguing red tattoos on his cheeks and chin. The shoulders were wide enough that the fabric of the uniform strained across his chest, and his legs were long enough that the hem of the pants could not cover his ankles well.
Taking in the sight, Madara’s heart started to beat faster, and his mouth felt dry. How come he had never seen this man before? He would have remembered him. Would probably have dreamt about him. Was sure to do that now.
Oh, his father knew about Madara’s inclinations, which was one of the reasons he had not pushed for him to take a wife, but he still expected him to be discreet about it. How to subtly inquire whether this divine being could be persuaded to warm Madara’s bed? He had never dallied with any servants before, fearing what rumors might spread, but for this man he would be all too willing to make an exception.
Making his way closer, he observed how the pale-haired man tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. There was none of the subservience he usually saw from any of the staff, making him wonder if the man didn’t realize who Madara was. If so, that was strange, because nobody else but someone from the main family would dare to wear the Uchiha mon so prominently on their clothes. Though, in the man’s defense, Madara’s clothes had the mon embroidered on the back, so it would be impossible to see from that angle, and even from behind it would be partially hidden by his hair. Yes, that had to be the reason. Besides, if he was honest, Madara kind of liked that this man didn’t immediately bow and scrape. That could get so tiresome really fast.
As the man lowered the book he had been reading, Madara caught sight of the cover—An introduction to shogi—and it gave him an idea. He stopped right in front of the man and leaned slightly towards him, giving him what he hoped was a seductive smile. “Shirking your duties to read about shogi? How naughty. Perhaps I can be persuaded to not report you to Tajima… -sama, if you indulge me in a game of shogi? There is a game board in the room next door.”
The red eyes of the man flickered down to the book in his hand, then up to meet Madara’s eyes. He gave a little shrug. “I have never played it, so I will probably not be much of an opponent, but if you have patience with me I would not mind an opportunity to learn.”
Madara nearly preened. That sounded like an opening to make the games a regular thing. He held his hand out, urging the man to follow him. The game room was bright and airy, and, a major selling point for Madara, it was private. He nudged the other man towards one of the low tables, watching him fold his legs underneath himself in a very graceful manner. If it had not been for the servant’s uniform, Madara might have thought the man was a noble. His movements and manner of speech did nothing to detract from that impression, and Madara started to wonder if perhaps he was someone from a noble clan that had been demoted, or had fallen upon hard times, forcing him to seek employment to survive. If so, then Madara was hardly going to report him to Tajima for taking some time to read. Especially not now that the man had agreed to entertain Madara with games.
The fact that he hoped it would lead to more… Well, it did play a large part in Madara’s decision. Fishing for more information, he moved one of his pieces and asked, “So, what should I call you?”
Studying the board intently, the man reached long fingers towards one piece, only to hesitate and move his hand again, absentmindedly replying, “This one is called Tobirama.”
Madara quickly went through the names of the known members of any of the nearby clans, but could not place him. Did he come from further away? Or had he been a secret family member? With his coloring, there might have been some unfortunate prejudice against him, though Madara personally found it lovely.
He did not learn much more during the first game, as Tobirama kept skirting around giving proper answers, but as he had hoped, the games became a regular thing, and Madara’s flirting became increasingly blatant as the days passed. Tobirama did not reciprocate, but neither did he give a definitive no to any of Madara’s suggestions, implying that perhaps he was not entirely against it. That maybe there was something else holding him back? Was it their difference in status? Or something in his past that he feared Madara might disapprove of? Or maybe he feared retaliation from Tajima?
Speaking of his father, Tajima had been busy lately, negotiating with the clan head of the Fūma clan, trying to set up a marriage between one of the woman’s elder sons and Myoko. Madara hoped that did not mean that he would be next. Merely the thought of touching a woman in an intimate way made him faintly nauseous. No, if he was ever to father a child, it would have to be through the help of one of those Nara glass tubes, and a woman Madara would never need to touch.
He pushed the thought of any potential future troubles out of his mind, refocusing on his very lovely companion, watching that adorable little pout that formed when the man realized that Madara was winning this round as well.
Oh, he had improved in leaps and bounds, but Madara was still the more experienced player in this game, and he had yet to reveal all his tricks, saving some for when his opponent started to improve enough to possibly be a challenge. For now, Madara was content with observing the man, and all his little odd mannerisms. It was enchanting, and left him with plenty of material for… self-care, when he was in his own rooms late at night.
Which, now that he thought about it, was a very strange thing. How could this man spend hours every day with Madara if he was a servant? What exactly was it he was doing in the castle that meant he always had time to meet Madara? Didn’t he have duties to attend to? Or… was watching Madara one of his duties? Unable to keep the question in, Madara picked on the hem of his shirtsleeve, watching Tobirama through his lashes while he asked, “Did my father assign you to guard me?”
There was a tiny hesitation in the movement as Tobirama reached over to pick up one of the pieces, and Madara could tell the moment the other man realized that Madara had noticed, because his shoulders sagged slightly and he dropped his hand to his lap. “Ah, not you, so to speak. It’s… complicated. My assignment is to keep the family safe. Not just you.”
Madara felt a mild stab of disappointment, but then he told himself that Tobirama didn’t need to spend so much time with Madara in order to do his job. Surely that he chose to do so anyway had to mean something? And the fact that he could do so also suggested that he was not just a regular guard. He must have special training, perhaps as a blade-master, or maybe he was one of Tajima’s assassins, tasked with taking out any threat before it could reach any of the main family? He decided not to ask, hoping that eventually Tobirama would reveal that information voluntarily. Madara could wait. He was a patient man, no matter what Kurohime might say about him. Especially when the potential reward was so delectable.
⁂
It had taken embarrassingly long before Tobirama realized what Madara was really aiming for. In his defense, he did not have much experience with human courting behavior. None in fact, so seeing it up close was fascinating. However, he had no idea what the rules were for how to respond to such advances, so he played it safe, by not reacting to what became increasingly blunt attempts at getting him to engage in something of a sexual nature.
It was not that he was opposed to it, if he was honest—Madara was more than charming enough—but more that he felt it might be wrong to do so as long as Madara was unaware of his true appearance. Though, at this point he was not sure how to bring it up. They had been meeting like this for almost a month, and it was clear to Tobirama that Madara’s interest had not declined in the least. No, it seemed more like it had increased in the time since they first encountered each other in the library. Tobirama found it curious, given that he had not encouraged it in any way, but perhaps by not discouraging it, he had somehow inadvertently signaled that he reciprocated the interest?
In the two months since he had been trapped, he had observed the humans extensively, and one thing had become obvious—while there seemed no end to the dalliances occurring between various members of the staff, those times the encounters were between same-sex couples the involved parties were far more secretive about their meetings than when the pairings were of opposite sexes. Was this another facet of that? That flirting between such couples was more subtle and followed different rules? Tobirama could not ask, because that would give rise to more questions about who he was than he probably should encourage. Mainly because it might reveal to the Uchiha family that he could change shape, which might in turn make them restrict his freedom of movement even further.
Still, he was curious what it was about him that drew Madara to him, so he kept meeting with the Uchiha heir, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to not react to the by now very blatant innuendos, and the sneaking of small touches to his hands, or brushing of shoulders when they walked side by side from the library to the game room.
In an attempt at distracting himself, and probably Madara as well, he finally left the dungeons in his dragon-shape, making his way outside, exploring every nook and cranny he could fit his long body into. He caught a glimpse of Madara up in one of the windows, and shortly after, the Uchiha came striding out of the main doors, heading straight for Tobirama.
Pretending to not notice, Tobirama just continued his exploration, eventually making his way back inside.
⁂
It wasn’t until Madara spotted the dragon outside late one evening when returning from a meeting with his father that it struck him as odd that his friend from the library had the same colors as the dragon guarding them. Once he had thought that, he couldn’t let the idea go.
From a distance, he followed the dragon with his eyes for a moment, to make a calculated guess as to where it was heading, then he hurried downstairs and out into the courtyard. Trusting not only in the seals placed on the dragon, but also in his own instincts that said that the man he had spent the past month playing shogi against was none other than the dragon in disguise, he closed in on the large creature.
Perhaps it was because of all the stories he’d read as a child, or perhaps it was simply because his mind was more open than that of his father, but where it had not occurred to Tajima that the dragon might change shape, it seemed almost natural to Madara that it could. After all, all manner of yōkai and supernatural creatures could, like kitsune and bakeneko, so why shouldn’t dragons be able to?
He could see that the dragon knew he was there, following it around, but it didn’t acknowledge him, just continued on its way, almost appearing as if it was making a patrol of the grounds. Before long, it returned to the castle, a small burst of magic pushing the doors open before it. Madara hurried to catch up, following it down through winding corridors, grabbing a lantern along the way to see where he was going. The dragon did not seem to have any troubles with seeing in the dark, but no matter how good Madara’s eyesight was, he needed some light in order to avoid walking into walls.
They made it down to the rooms the dragon had claimed, and it coiled itself up in the middle of the room, resting the head on top of the coils facing the doorway where Madara stood. When it made no further move, Madara took a chance. “Will you be joining me for a game later, Tobirama?”
Those red eyes glittering in the light from the lantern closed slowly, then opened again, and the form of the dragon sort of shimmered, shrinking before him, the limbs that had looked short on the dragon suddenly looking more normal in length, and taking on a distinctly human shape. The tail shrunk until it was completely gone, and the chest and torso changed shape, and texture. The scales bled away, morphing into smooth pale skin. Madara’s eyes greedily took in everything.
Vaguely the thought occurred to him that he probably should have felt disgusted or disconcerted by watching the change, but he felt none of those things. Instead, a part of him marveled at the power the dragon had, to pick his shape at will.
Another thing that was immediately obvious was that Tobirama was naked. Distractingly so. Madara really tried to be polite, but his eyes were drawn down along the attractive shape, noting the pale pink color of the nipples, the red lines that even now curved and curled around those long limbs, and the thatch of white hair at the apex of strong thighs, a soft cock nestled in it. Mouth watering, Madara’s tongue slipped out between his lips to moisten them. Tobirama really was perfect. The best of both worlds. A glorious dragon, and a delectable human.
Suddenly Tobirama looked away, towards a stack of crates in a corner, and Madara could see some clothes piled on top. The uniform he had used when meeting with Madara in the game room. Before the dragon could walk over to it, Madara took a few hurried steps into the room, holding his hand out. “Are you sure you’ll be needing those? If you are cold, I would be more than willing to warm you up.”
⁂
Tobirama’s eyes snapped back to Madara. When he had been called out, he had assumed that was the end of their little meetings. That Madara had figured out who he truly was, and was there to tell him that he would reveal his secret to Tajima. There was nothing Tobirama could do. He was bound by seals that prevented him from harming any of the main family. Those same seals did not prevent harm from going in the other direction.
Except, it did not look like Madara had been put off by the discovery. Quite the opposite in fact, if Tobirama was reading the gleam in those dark eyes right. There was something distinctly hungry about the way Madara’s focus moved down along Tobirama’s human body. The flick of his tongue over his plush lips drew Tobirama’s eyes, and curious beyond belief, he asked, “You know what I am. Are you still attracted to me?”
Madara took another step closer, hand hovering in the air like he wanted to touch but was keeping himself back by sheer willpower. “Of course! You are beautiful in both shapes.”
Tobirama couldn’t help himself. One of his eyebrows arched high. “Are you implying you find my dragon form arousing?”
The skin on Madara’s cheeks flushed a deep red, but those dark eyes met Tobirama’s head on, a challenging gleam in them. “What if I do?”
He couldn’t not test that claim. Not when he found it so incredulous. It wasn’t until he was already changing back that the hypocrisy of such a belief struck him—After all, he himself found Madara attractive. A human. So why was it so hard for him to think that a human might find a dragon attractive?
As his length stretched out, he angled himself to coil around Madara, trapping him in the middle. It had been a bit of a further test, but Madara passed with flying colors. There was absolutely no fear in his eyes, only awe and admiration. His hands, big for a human, still felt small against Tobirama’s sides when they brushed over his scales.
He leaned his head closer to Madara’s face. “So, you still wish to have sex with me?”
Madara’s eyes snapped up from where he had been admiring the scales, to meeting Tobirama’s eyes. The expression was surprised, but quickly morphed into eagerness. “Yes! Of course! That… I would love to.”
Tobirama moved his coils, tightening them slightly around Madara, using his tail to nudge the human into leaning against Tobirama’s middle. “So, how would you like to do this?”
Madara bit his lip, looking along Tobirama’s body, as if searching for something. “Ah, how… How big is it? Your dick I mean?”
Rolling his coils around, Tobirama twisted so that his vent was right in front of Madara. From there it was easy to allow himself to get aroused, imagining what it might be like to have the human ride him. To feel that warm body gripping him, milking him. In hardly any time at all, the cock swelled, emerging from the vent.
Madara’s mouth fell open and his fingers twitched. A quick glance towards Tobirama’s face, then back to look at the cock. “Can I…?”
With how his hand lifted up, Tobirama assumed he was asking if he could touch, so he just hissed out a “Yesss.”
Placing both of his hands on it, Madara’s fingers did not quite manage to touch when he gripped around it, but Tobirama did not care. His whole body quivered with the sensation. It was exquisite. And then Madara carefully dragged his hands up along the shaft. Tobirama’s eyes fell shut and his tongue flicked out. If this was all Madara wanted to do, Tobirama was more than happy with it. However, it didn’t take long before the human leaned forward, licking a stripe over the head. Tobirama exhaled like the air had been punched out of him.
⁂
Seeing Tobirama in his dragon shape—Knowing that this was Tobirama—and then seeing his dick… Well, as much as Madara would have loved to ride it, he could tell that that was something they would need to work up to. While in the same general shape as a human cock, the dragon dick was thicker and longer, with ridges and bumps that would surely feel amazing going in and out. Madara was going to need a lot of prep before that could take place. Probably over several days, stretching his rim a bit further with each try.
Still, now that he knew who Tobirama was, it was clear that they would have all the time they needed. He just had to make sure that Tobirama would not change his mind. To that effect, Madara enthusiastically started to fondle and lick all over the warm flesh in his hands, feeling it twitch and flex, and nearly groaning when he realized that not only was it huge, but it apparently was prehensile as well. Now he was more determined than ever to make it fit.
Pushing himself against Tobirama’s coils so that he could get some friction on his own hard length, Madara circled the head of the cock with his tongue, coating it with saliva before he attempted to fit it inside his mouth. Carefully wrapping his lips over his teeth, and opening his jaw as wide as he could, he managed to fit all of the head inside, and a tiny bit down into his throat, but that completely blocked his airways, so he struggled a bit before he found a rhythm, allowing him to breathe in through his nose as he was pulling back, before sucking it in again. Both hands were wrapped around the shaft, moving in tandem with his bobbing head, and he could feel every twitch and pulse.
Above him, Tobirama was making breathless noises, rumbling purrs interrupted by sharp inhales and abrupt moans. The coils writhed and trembled, giving added stimulation to Madara’s own cock. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, giving head to a dragon. With a groan of his own, he rubbed harder against the side of Tobirama’s midsection. He was getting close embarrassingly fast, but this was just so hot. A fantasy he had not known he desired until today, and now didn’t think he could live without.
His movements started to stutter, and the tension low in his belly was tightening up, making him rut harder against Tobirama at the same time as his hands clenched around the long dragon cock. Suddenly a noise almost like a whimper escaped the dragon and its whole body tensed up. That was the only warning Madara got before his mouth was flooded with hot cum, burst after burst. He tried his best to swallow, but it was just so much that it forced its way out of his mouth, dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt. Pulling off with a gasp, Madara’s face was hit with another string of pearly cum, and his own orgasm rolled over him. Nearly collapsing against the dragon, he groaned as the front of his pants became soaked through with his spend.
Quivering and breathing fast, he sagged down to sit on the floor, leaning his back and side against Tobirama. Then he tilted his head upwards, sporting a silly grin. “Wow.”
He wasn’t sure, but the dragon looked just as spent as he felt.
Slowly, Tobirama lowered his head, the long tongue flickering out to gently swipe over Madara’s face, cleaning it. It was a strange feeling, but not unpleasant, and he appreciated it since he would have to walk through the castle to get to his rooms. Speaking of… “I think if I’m going to take you, that’s going to need a lot of work, so, if you are up for it, perhaps we can continue this with you in your human shape?”
There was a slow blink, then the dragon tilted its head. “You wish to continue?”
“Only if you are interested!” Madara was quick to reassure. “And not here.”
Tobirama was silent for a moment, then he gave a nod, and his body started to change, forcing Madara to take his own weight again.
While Tobirama dressed in his stolen servant’s uniform, Madara did his best to clean off the cum that had gotten onto his shirt, but as soon as it started to dry, it would probably be very visible, so they should hurry.
He stood up, and gave Tobirama a quick smile. “Okay, let’s go to my rooms. My bed is far more comfortable, and if I’m going to fuck you, I want you to enjoy it as much as possible.”
Hours later, they were sprawled out across Madara’s large bed, the blankets rumpled around them, and their skin slick with sweat and other fluids. Running his finger through some of the more opaque fluids, drawing nonsensical patterns, something occurred to Madara. “How come you got captured? I heard from Hikaku that the battle was far easier than they had anticipated…”
“Oh, that. I was just coming out of hibernation. I thought they just wanted a scale or something. I didn’t actually expect anything like this.”
Pausing in his drawing, Madara looked up. “Hibernation?”
“Yes, I’d been asleep for a few years, so naturally I was a bit groggy.”
Madara sat up in the bed, leaning on one arm, and stared down at him. “A few years?! You slept for a few years?!” His voice was high, but then it calmed down. “Is that normal? For dragons, I mean?”
Tobirama shrugged. “Sure. When you live for as long as we do, a few years is nothing. I know of dragons older than me who regularly sleep for decades at a time. The oldest can take a century-long nap.”
Hesitantly, Madara asked, “So… How old are you?”
Tobirama put his hands behind his head, appearing relaxed, but with a strange vulnerability to his eyes. "I'm three thousand years old."
It was such an immense number that Madara had problems wrapping his mind around it. Voice filled with awe, he breathed out a "Wow…"
Slowly, as if he didn’t really want to admit it, Tobirama added, "Next century, I'll finally be considered a proper adult."
"Wait, what?!" Madara scrambled off the bed, voice higher than it had been before. “You’re a kid?!”
Tobirama scoffed. “Of course not! Do I look like one?!”
Madara hedged a bit, “Ah, no, but… You’re a shapeshifter.”
Those red eyes rolled, before settling on an unimpressed glare. “Comparatively speaking, I’m close to the level of maturity that your brother Izuna is at.”
Collapsing forward onto the bed in relief, Madara groaned into the bedding. Izuna was nineteen. That was not too bad. To think, three thousand years old, and still not fully an adult? It was unbelievable.
Rolling over on his back, Madara looked at Tobirama again. “So, how long can you expect to live for?”
“If nothing bad happens, perhaps thirty thousand years or so. Maybe more.” Tobirama didn’t appear bothered by that, though it was starting to bother Madara. He was twenty-three. He had maybe sixty years left, possibly a little more if he was lucky and took good care of his health. It was a drop in the ocean for Tobirama.
Raising himself up on his elbows, Madara gave Tobirama a serious nod. “Once I’m in charge, I’ll have the mages undo the binding. You’ll be free to go. Or, well, come and go as you see fit. I rather hope you’ll choose to stay, or at least return often.”
Tobirama had lifted his fingers up to his face, but paused at that. Then he slowly licked them clean before answering. “I see no reason why not. I very much enjoyed what we did now, and have no objections to continuing this arrangement. However, are you not expected to marry and produce young?”
Rolling over to kneel on the bed, Madara stretched his shoulders a bit. “I have no interest in marrying a woman. If forced, I might try to find a way to… produce young without having to sleep with one.”
The dragon looked thoughtful, then his lips quirked up in a wry smile. “Anija always insisted that I’m far too reckless and impulsive, but… I am a shape-changer. There are ways that I could carry young for you, if you are required to have them.”
Madara’s hands fell into his lap and his lips parted in shock. Slowly his eyes moved down along Tobirama’s body, but even though he had seen the dragon change shape twice, he still could not wrap his mind around the idea of Tobirama pregnant.
Although… “Would that make them half-dragons?”
One pale eyebrow arched delicately, and the wry smile was back. “Of course.”
Huh, now there was a thought. Gaining dragon-blood for their clan… How could Tajima turn that down? Yeah, perhaps there was a way for Madara to marry after all, without needing to grit his teeth and bear it?
It still was too early, but… it was absolutely something to keep in mind.
There would be difficulties in their future, but maybe not as many as there had to be. Not if this was an option. And the rest… Well, most of it would be a matter of Madara wrapping his mind around certain things. Given enough time, he probably could.
Madara reached out and cupped a hand around Tobirama’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
⁂
Tajima stared at his son, and the man next to him. No, not man… Dragon. The dragon he himself had brought into the castle to guard his family. To guard his daughters’ virtue against unscrupulous men. If he had known… It was not Myoko and Kurohime that had been at risk.
He turned a tired look towards Madara. “You want to marry a dragon…”
“Yes.” His son nodded eagerly. Then he gave Tajima a smirk that sent shivers down his spine. “He’s already expecting, so we should get married fast.”
“He’s… What?!” Tajima clutched at the edge of his desk.
“Kids. Probably at least three. The benefits of dating a dragon.” Madara looked really smug.
Waving one of the servants over, Tajima ordered him to bring a bottle of the strongest sake they had. He would need it if he was to get through the rest of the evening. Grandkids. Grandkids with dragon blood. His eyes sought out the dragon who was currently in the shape of a tall young man. If he had not seen the man shift in front of his own eyes, he would have thought Madara was playing a prank on him.
With a groan, he put his forehead into his palm. If Madara was not lying… “Fine! It’s not like you would have married a woman, and this way at least you’ll continue the line! Now, get out of here. I intend to get drunk and try to forget this conversation ever happened!”
Madara reached over, putting one arm around the waist of the pale young man, and using the other to lift the man’s hand up to his lips, giving them a small kiss. Then he grinned. “Let’s celebrate. I know just the way to do that.”
“You do, do you?” The sultry smile on the dragon’s face was sure to haunt Tajima’s nightmares.
Where was that damn servant? He needed that drink.
Madara tugged his fiance along, the both of them disappearing in the direction of Madara’s rooms.
Tajima let his head fall forward onto the desk, not caring how undignified it was. To think that he had been worried for his daughters when he should have been watching Madara better. His eldest son was always a bit strange, but Tajima had not realized the extent of it.
Then he groaned. What exactly would it mean for their family if the next generation were half-dragons? He called another servant over, asking the man to fetch the most senior of the mages. So much for a quiet evening. He had plenty of work ahead of him now.