Chapter Text
Focusing all his concentration on channeling his chakra, he had barely time to brace himself, much less attempt to move aside, before something, or rather certain someone, collided with him full force, tackling him to the ground.
It wasn’t like he couldn’t feel his rapid approach from a long way, barrelling towards the remote training grounds Tobirama chose as a spot for testing his latest hypothesis on improvements of shadow clones.
How could he not, when his chakra signature was so blindingly powerful that it registered even to non-sensors and civilians? For someone like him, he was like a celestial body, a comet trailblazing his way into Tobirama’s consciousness. Something that refused to be ignored, try as he may.
He could have dodged easily, indulge in a little game of cat and mouse, heckle his pursuer for a bit. Just to prove the point that he was as slippery as ever, maintaining his reputation, to hammer in the fact that he allowed himself to be caught. The occasional chase was a source of thrill for them both. Today, however, was not the day for playing.
As a belated reaction, Tobirama twisted while they were mid-flight, in a futile attempt to sneak his way out of becoming a landing pillow, but the grip on his wrists was like iron. The impact of hard ground against his back nearly winded him, and immediately he knew that he was overpowered by the sheer mass of weight concentrated on his hips, as well as his hands, immovably pinned above his head. Entirely at mercy.
Tendrils of dark hair spilled around him like a thick silky curtain and he was confronted by a pair of keen onyx eyes, the ones which acutely reminded him of smoldering embers. He always found that gaze utterly hypnotizing. Perhaps it was a given, considering the owner’s particular proclivity towards genjutsu. Alas, it has been a long time since he chose not to heed his late father’s warnings about the dangers of looking an Uchiha in the eye.
Maybe he should have listened just this one time.
Before he could even begin to protest about being manhandled so unceremoniously, the other man dipped his head and planted a kiss on his lips with demand so familiar, it made Tobirama’s heart ache a little. Any of his possible objections melted into an embarrassing moan, which only spurred his assailant further. The free hand, which was not otherwise occupied by holding him down, began to quickly make its way downwards, grazing his exposed navel. Just as he tugged at the strings to unfasten his pants, with a clear objective in mind, Tobirama moved his head to the side, effectively severing their intense mouth-to-mouth connection.
‘Madara…’ He said breathlessly, hissing as teeth immediately took advantage of the exposed part of his neck and sunk into the skin. A sweep of tongue took care of the stinging sensation, soothing where the mark would very likely form. A weak apology for his transgression.
Against all his pleas not to leave any evidence of his presence, Madara still liked to occasionally breach his promise of being discreet. Not that it was of any surprise to Tobirama. He knew well how the Uchiha relished in watching him try to cover for his limp after a particularly eventful encounter, or tugging his fur collar higher to conceal the hickeys. He was simply getting the kick out of his grumpiness at being forced to come up with excuses. He just couldn’t help but push the boundaries. Incorrigible.
‘Madara.’ Tobirama repeated more insistently in an attempt to get his attention. The man in question only hummed as a hazy acknowledgement, moving on to nibble on his ear instead, knowing too damn well that it was Tobirama’s weak spot. Sneaky bastard.
He had a half mind to just let him do whatever and deal with the issue at hand afterwards, but that selfish indulgence would only make matters worse. He ought to prove once more that between the two of them, he was the one with the ability to act with some degree of maturity.
‘Stop.’ He forced himself to say a complete opposite of what his body wished for.
At last, Madara paused his ministrations and sat up, licking his lips. ‘What, kitten? Anyone coming our way?’ He purred seductively, going even as far as using his favourite pet name for him. For some reason, the Uchiha insisted on likening him to a cat. He did not care to argue anymore.
Tobirama shook his head, though he questioned the necessity. Even though he was a much more nuanced sensor, meaning that Madara usually depended on him to check the perimeter while in the throes of passion, he was sure that the Uchiha had to know that they were alone. Madara was no match to him when it came to sensor abilities, but just like anything else with him, he was still pretty damn decent at it.
‘No, but…’
‘But what? Weren’t you looking forward to me?’ Madara quipped smugly before he could even finish the sentence, but Tobirama knew him well enough to detect a hint of genuine concern. It was making it all the harder to break the news.
‘Let go, please. We need to talk.’ Tobirama insisted. The ensuing conversation would be pretty tough to concentrate on even without Madara’s hard-on pressing into him. Any other time, he would have taken full advantage of it, but he had to exercise restraint. It would come in handy in the foreseeable future.
What he had to say weighed heavily on him ever since he was informed. Even though he considered himself sufficiently apt in taming Madara’s temper, he had no way of predicting what his reaction would be. Or what kind of reaction he even hoped for, for that matter. His only saving grace was that Madara was away for a mission when the decision was made and therefore, taking advantage of their usual ritual of meeting in the woods for a welcome back, nice you’re still alive horizontal dance, he had the opportunity to tell him personally before he would inevitably learn from someone else.
At last, Madara recognised that he actually meant business and wasn’t just playing hard to get. ‘Ugh. That sounds unpleasantly serious.’ He grumbled, but obediently slid off his lap to sit beside him instead.
‘So, spill it.’ He prompted, looking at him with intent.
Straight into it, as usually. Though Tobirama supposed there was no point in delaying the irrevocable.
Tobirama swallowed heavily, the words getting lodged in his throat. All of a sudden, his mouth was completely parched and thoroughly uncooperative. Still, he found the strength in himself to look up and meet Madara’s eyes head-on. He at least deserved that much.
Involuntarily, he noticed that there was little evidence of prolonged travel on Madara. He had to stop in an onsen the previous night to wash up the worst of grime and dust of the road, knowing that Tobirama preferred cleanliness. His heart clenched uncomfortably. Breathe in, breathe out.
‘I’m getting married.’
For a few seconds, the world remained in suspense, not even a sound coming from the surrounding woods. Then, a familiar ridge of a frown appeared on Madara’s forehead. ‘Beg your pardon?’ He asked, as if giving Tobirama the opportunity to clarify that he was only jesting.
If only. ‘Don’t play deaf, Madara.’ He chose the usual mask of annoyance to cover up for his rising anxiety.
Madara’s frown only deepened, just as his chakra began to churn with something dark. Tobirama braced for the brewing argument. ‘It’s not that I haven’t heard, I just can’t comprehend…’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ Tobirama interrupted dryly.
Though he had enough self-awareness to know that he wasn’t exactly the most desirable catch. Even though he was alleged to be a copy and paste of his mother, a renowned beauty, combined with his red eyes, his unusual looks were perceived at best as odd, at worst as purely unattractive. His standoffish and austere disposition wasn’t doing him any favour either, purposely discouraging most people from addressing him unless they absolutely had to. Sometimes he even wondered what Madara saw in him to stick around for so long.
‘Shut up, you know damn well I didn’t mean it like that.’ Madara snapped back equally tersely. For some odd reason, he never much liked Tobirama’s self-deprecating tendencies, so he was probably telling the truth.
A few beats of charged silence passed. Apprehensive about incensing him further, Tobirama didn’t dare to interrupt whatever ruminations were currently happening in Madara’s head. One of the most vexing features about the Uchiha was his volatility. Tobirama disliked surprises with passion. And yet, this character trait was also what kept pulling him to the man in the first place. That strange thrill of the unpredictable. A little dose of spontaneity in his otherwise rigid world. Nothing short of a drug.
‘But you never mentioned you would even like to…’ Madara eventually said, gesturing vaguely instead of forcing his mouth to form the dreaded word. Marriage.
Tobirama heaved a sigh. ‘That option wasn’t even on the table until recently.’ Up to that point, his bad qualities made him a completely unsuitable choice for a potential spouse. No amount of sweet-talking from his pushy elders could amend that he had a carefully cultivated reputation of a grumpy prick.
‘Oh?’ Madara quirked his eyebrows, beckoning him to elaborate.
Pressing his lips together, Tobirama looked up at the sky. A flock of birds, most likely wild geese, crossed idly above them. He suddenly envied them their freedom. His own wings were about to be clipped short.
‘It seems like my worth as an eligible bachelor has suddenly risen in direct correlation to my brother being elected as the hokage.’ He responded as succinctly as possible, unable to keep the bitterness about his predicament out of his voice.
‘I see.’ Madara uttered quietly after a moment of consideration. ‘So who’s the lucky person?’ He asked, trying and failing to sound offhand. Clearly, he was at least bothered by the thought of Tobirama paired with someone else.
Not that Tobirama knew for sure if jealousy was the reaction he was hoping for. ‘Don’t know yet. The elders are still deliberating.’ Which was yet another source of his anxiety. The unknown. The fact that he had little to no control over the situation.
Realistically, he could try and push back, but his sense of duty towards his clan was ingrained too deeply into his bones to openly revolt. To strengthen the influence of the Senju, he would have to submit to the collective will. Besides, what other prospects did he have anyway? His wishful thinking was very unlikely to turn into reality.
Madara chuckled, though the sound was anything but joyful. Tobirama knew the sound of his genuine laughter like the back of his hand, and was secretly fond of it. This noise was making the hair stand on the back of his neck and not in a good way.
‘That many suitors?’
He gave a perfunctory shrug. ‘No idea what promises the elders made, but allegedly every other clan is suddenly tripping over their feet to offer to marry their daughters off to the White Demon.’ The less important ones, at least. Spares to match him. Technically, he was still an heir, but that was only a matter of time. The way Hashirama and Mito were all over each other, still in their honeymoon bliss, they would end up with a handful of kids in no time.
‘You’re not into women.’ Madara pointed out needlessly.
For some reason, it pushed Tobirama’s buttons. Probably because he absolutely dreaded being forced to take a wife and fulfill his marital duties, as would be reasonably expected of him, and he didn’t need that kind of reminder.
‘What does it matter? It wasn’t by my request and I have little say in this.’ His only solace was that since she recently got married herself, it wasn’t going to be Inuzuka Jura. She’s been giving him the creeps ever since they were children with her unhealthy obsession about him.
Once again, silence fell between them, unbearably oppressive. By this point, Madara had to already guess what the outcome of this conversation was going to be.
‘So… What does that mean for us?’ His companion at last breached the topic. His voice was carefully guarded.
‘Us?’ Tobirama looked at him with disbelief.
There was no us, as much as he often wished otherwise. While an official relationship of two men wasn’t completely unheard of, it was definitely uncommon and considering their rank, quite out of question for the two of them. So far-fetched that they never even discussed such a possibility as an unspoken rule. Instead of complicating the matters by demanding something more substantial, he settled for their secret randez-vous, which ever had the sole purpose of them yielding to the pleasures of the flesh. Outside of their private moments, they maintained strict neutrality so as not to raise any suspicion of their clandestine affair.
There was the familiar frown again, accompanied with a burst of chakra belying his anger. ‘Yes, us.’ Madara gestured between the two of them. ‘Me and you. I have been operating under the impression that we have an arrangement.’ He tried to reach for his hand.
His heart beating hard, Tobirama dodged his touch. He couldn’t afford to get swayed in his decision. Painful as this not-quite-break-up was, it was a better solution than dragging this out. ‘That will need to end. I can’t be sneaking around with you any more. I will not bring dishonour to my spouse.’ He asserted his position with false conviction that it was for the best. The consequences, should the affair become public, would have been grave.
‘Even if you’re repulsed by them?’ Still, Madara chose to keep pushing the issue.
‘I’m not a cheater.’ Tobirama rebutted firmly, not even bothering to hide the offense he took for insinuating otherwise.
Hell, he was exclusively meeting with Madara for all these years, even though he wasn’t technically required to. Not that they ever had that talk. He was better off not knowing whether Madara felt the same or if he sought out other entertainment during his ventures out into the world. If he did have other dalliances, he at least never flaunted them.
They stared at each other, stuck in an impasse, for gods know how long, both of them scowling in their own defiance. Tobirama trying to convince himself he was choosing the most sensible solution, Madara refusing to yield. He was always terribly pigheaded.
Against the odds, it was Madara to sever the connection first. ‘Duly noted.’ He uttered his acceptance stiffly and gathered himself to stand up. Irrationally, Tobirama would have preferred yelling. Even cussing him out.
‘Well, should I leave you alone then?’ A last ditch of effort to change his mind. Or maybe just an attempt to convince him to agree to a goodbye tumble in the grass, to serve his purpose in Madara’s life for the last time. Though that could also be his own self-loathing talking.
‘Yes.’ Tobirama choked out, the finality of the simple word upending his stomach. The heaviness in his chest was nearly unbearable now. ‘And Madara?’
‘Mhm?’
Once again, Tobirama willed himself to meet his gaze, knowing that from this moment on, his own feelings will most likely prevent him from daring to look at Madara properly ever again. ‘Thanks for everything.’ It was impossible to sum up all that sentence was meant to encompass, years of shared moments of closeness and perhaps even some twisted form of borrowed happiness.
Madara smiled ruefully, but it did not reach his eyes. The flickering lights of his inner fire perpetually reflected in them were now uncharacteristically dim and the bags under them were even more pronounced. ‘Likewise. It was fun while it lasted.’ He picked up his gunbai and walked off towards the village without further ado.
Once his retreating silhouette merged with the falling dusk, Tobirama’s resolve not to cry crumbled.
