Portraits of our dreams (Hashirama x Madara)

9. The mellow man (Hashirama)

The time we spent together that Friday we re-joined was okay enough at first. Although I hated the fact that I dressed up for him in a shirt. I had even washed my hair. And I hated the fact that I believed it was worth it just because he complimented me and told me I looked good the first thing he said. 

He looked lovely as ever, blending in splendidly with the hotel guests of the five-star hotel bar he'd chosen for us.

"I apologise sincerely for how I treated you last time", he said before I had even sat down. "I was wrong."

"Thank you", I said.

I took a sip of the drink he had bought me that was so expensive, I hadn't even heard of it before. I knew it contained a rare champagne. I didn't even know making drinks using champagne was a thing. I was a freelance photographer after all, and was living basically hand-to-mouth despite being quite well-known. Oh, how the other half lived. 

"I mean it. I haven't been able to think of everything else." He had tears in his eyes now. "The number of times I have tried to make myself call you..."

"Why didn't you?"

"I was too ashamed of my behaviour."

I strained against it, I swear I did. But in the end, I was as unable to as ever. I succumbed, and accepted that I believed him. 

We talked for hours. And before I knew it, things felt the same between us. I thought about Madara every minute, but the image of him in the studio, in front of my camera, was not as protruding as it had been pre-champagne drink, and pre-him. 

So when he asked me to come with him to the hotel room he had booked for the night, I said yes. Since I had told him no fucking and he had agreed, I deemed it safe.

But in the elevator up, he made it very, very clear that he expected sex from me. 

"Please, stop", I said harshly as he kissed my neck.

"Don't worry", he murmured hotly into my ear, and I couldn't help but shiver in pleasure, despite myself. "I'm just taking a bite. A tiny nibble just to taste you. God, your flavour is lovely..."

He basically moaned in desire.

Run away.

Being a mellow man who stayed out of trouble, and quite tall on top of that, I had never had that impulse before, so I didn't recognise it, and I didn't run away. Instead, I followed him into the luxurious room.

At first, it seemed fine. I stood looking out over the city skyline as I heard him pour up a glass of wine for himself from the minibar. But then, he came up behind me and started nibbling my neck again, breathing heavily as he pressed his crotch against my back. I froze as I felt his hand on my thigh. 

"I thought we agreed on no sex?"

"We did", he said. "But can't we change our minds?"

"No", I said, realising that no matter how obsessed I was with this man, I did not want to sleep with him right now. I just wanted to go home and keep editing the pictures of Madara.

"Well, I have changed my mind", he said.

And that was when I realised the true danger I was in.

It wasn't violent. It wasn't harsh. It wasn't forceful. But it was a nightmare, from the very start to the very end. Although I didn't think it would ever end. 

He started kissing me. When I kept my mouth resolutely closed, he pushed a finger in between my teeth and put his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of wine and flesh. When he lay me down on the bed, he didn't even bother to undress me, just pulled my trousers down. 

He did me quick and dirty. He had some trouble getting it up me seeing he had drunk quite frivolously, but once he succeeded, he thrusted only for about a minute before he came.

I lay rigid the whole time, not enjoying myself in the slightest. 

When he was done, he pulled his trousers up and went to the door, and to my great horror, I realised he would leave me, just like that.

"I sleep at home. You can stay until morning. Breakfast included."

The thought of breakfast made me want to throw up until I died.

I didn't want to be in this dirty hotel room. I wanted to get back to my loft, to my bed. 

I wanted to be in Madara's arms.

But I couldn't move. I lay trembling, and was soon covered in a cold sweat that made me shiver. I lay like that for the entire night, shocked, my trousers still down at my thighs that were smeared in blood. 

When I finally, finally managed to drag myself out of bed, it was already light. I would have no memory of how I came back home; my next memory would be waking up in my own bed. I forced myself to shower, afraid to faint but I didn't.

Madara... I need to phone Madara.

I could not grasp the concept of the fact that he might not want me to phone him based on our previous phone call; I was too far away.

But when I walked to my phone, it started buzzing. When I picked it up, Madara's name was shown on the display.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hashirama, help me", he whispered.

And in an instant, I was wide awake, my own misery forgotten.

"Oh God, what happened?"

But Madara just burst out crying.

He couldn't tell me where he was, so I gave him my address so he could take an Uber. 

I paced back and forth as I waited for him. Finally, my intercom sounded, although the time between its call and the knock on my door felt like an eternity.

When I opened the door and saw him there, my heart froze to ice.

"God, Madara, what in the world happened to you?" 

I stepped forwards and immediately put my arms around him, and he cried into my shoulder. But I couldn't get the picture of him out of my mind's eye. His swollen and bruised left eye, entirely closed. His swollen cheeks. His cut lip. His bloody hair. His ragged clothes.

"You're safe, Madara. You're safe now. You can relax. I'm here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

But Madara couldn't speak. Madara was so deeply hurt, both physically and mentally, that he couldn't bring himself to say a word, even if he clearly did try.

"Okay, hush, you don't need to tell me now. Let me look at you."

He looked down as I inspected him, clearly ashamed of his appearance. In a situation like this... It broke my heart. He would definitely have to go to the hospital. And to the police. They would want to have photos of the state of him. But I didn't want to bring him in immediately. What should I do? 

Then, it dawned on me.

"Madara", I said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I will go and get my camera. The police will want evidence and I am not going to take you there until you've had a good night's sleep."

Madara nodded, probably too tired to resist anything I bestowed upon him, which had been the state of myself until Madara had called me, needing me more than I had ever needed anything. 

But just as I turned to fetch my best portrait camera, I noticed one thing.

Madara no longer had his engagement ring around his finger.