It was entirely on instinct that Madara had leaned in for that kiss. Mentally he reprimanded himself, seeing as he was supposed to be letting Tobirama set the pace. But how was he supposed to resist with those beautiful eyes looking up at him and those strong arms holding him in close? One would have to be mad to pass up the opportunity to kiss Tobirama! Those lips were so warm, and he smelled sweet like honey. It was impossible to not go blind with want when Tobirama was this perfect and so close. For so many years, he had not been able to be this close, to hold him or to be held. Now that he was, it was hard to resist all the built up urges he held within himself. However, Tobirama was stiffer now than he had been before, a telltale sign that he was not entirely comfortable with this. Madara knew he couldn't push this any further than kissing. Just because Tobirama hadn't yet pulled away didn't mean that he was free to take liberties knowing how much it frightened his lover.
As one hand slid from his chest into his hair, he knew that Tobirama was at least willing to try. He pushed their lips more firmly together and stilled there until he felt that warm mouth shyly move against his. They were still seated with Madara's back pressed to Tobirama's chest, and looking over his shoulder for the kiss was beginning to strain Madara's neck uncomfortably. He turned slowly in those arms and leaned further over Tobirama until he was flat on his back with Madara's hair once again forming a curtain around them. There was fear building in those eyes again, and Madara took a pause to press a kiss against each knuckle on the hand he now held gently within his own. The fear slowly made it's way from those eyes as he waited, though the tension that had built in those shoulders was slower to leave. He gave a reassuring smile.
"We can stop," he told Tobirama with another, longer press of lips to the inside of that thin wrist. "I will not push you. So we can stop, if you wish." For good measure, he sat up straight and sat back on his heels to put space between them.
Tobirama took a moment to evaluate how he felt. It was unfamiliar, and hard to accept, but Madara's eyes were so understanding. He had been so patient, so warm, had held him through his tears and had given him time when he needed it. Gazing into those eyes, he knew he could trust him. And so he nodded, and smiled when Madara pressed another kiss to his wrist.
It was not long before Madara had leaned back down and their lips were locked together sweetly (though clumsily on Tobirama's part- he was not used to being kissed), and a warmth spread its way through them quickly, radiating outward from every point in which they touched. Tobirama was glad that things were not being rushed. Madara was cupping his face between both hands and their lips were moving together slowly, melting away all the apprehension he had felt. It was a feeling beyond recognition to be like this with the man he loved. He was almost at the point of tears when he felt a brief flicker of chakra, and then the door slammed open. Madara flinched hard against him at the sound, and Tobirama couldn't blame him. The kiss had been so distracting that he hadn't even felt the chakra until it was too late to try giving a warning.
The high whine of frustration that sounded from the door was unexpected, but, then again, so was the matching sound that seemed to rip out of Madara's throat without warning.
"Brother, I swear to God! My eyes!"
Now that the two on the bed had untangled themselves, they looked up to see Izuna at the door, covering his eyes and looking ready to retch onto the fur-covered floor. His face had turned entirely red, and Tobirama realized that they had been in a rather compromising position before he arrived. Izuna had probably jumped to conclusions as soon as he saw them lip-locked and with Madara hovering over him. And Tobirama couldn't find it in himself to blame him. After all, if he had walked in on Hashirama straddling someone... well. He realized it would be better to not think about his brother too long before too many questions built up in his mind (Did Hashi know where he was? Did he care?) and watched as Madara rose and calmly smoothed down his sleepwear before addressing his brother.
"Lovely to see you too, Izuna." The words were lighthearted, and Tobirama vaguely wondered if they were always so casual with each other. He and Hashirama surely weren't. "I trust that you slept well."
"All thoughts of sleep are far from my mind right now, Mada. Were you going to bed him? He's only been here a few days, for God's sake! Have you lost your sense of propriety?"
The rest of the conversation was met with Tobirama's dead ears. He had flushed a crimson deeper than his eyes at the mentioning of being bedded. Was that what Madara had been hoping for? He knew for a fact that he wasn't ready for that. But something deep down inside him knew that had Madara tried, he wouldn't have stopped him. He was not prepared in the least to let himself be taken, or to place that amount of trust in the man who he still half expected to laugh in his face at any minute and to call for his brother to be brought in for the wedding instead. But he knew that if Madara had looked at him and asked to move things further, he wouldn't have been able to deny him. And as much as he knew that it was wrong and he shouldn't have felt that way, he did. He would give Madara his heart, his soul, his very life if it meant he could be held in those arms again. He would do anything to feel loved, wanted, needed... even if it were only for a moment. Even if he knew Madara did not mean it. And he was frightened of that fact.
••••••••••
After Izuna's tantrum in the bedroom, the two Uchiha readied themselves to prepare breakfast (likely Madara would cook and Izuna would complain about how long it took). Between the brush conundrum and the kissing and the sudden appearance of Izuna, so much had happened that Tobirama hadn't even realized that he hadn't eaten yet. He must have been awake for at least an hour by then, and at home he would have already eaten breakfast and would be making his way though the beginnings of the clan's paperwork for his Hashirama. The thought of home made him sad. With how little he and his brother spoke to each other, he doubted that Hashirama would have noticed his absence until this morning when the stack of papers on his desk failed to be removed. As he pushed those thoughts away, he realized how disgusting he felt. He could not recall his last bath. How many days had he been in the Uchiha compound? Madara told him that he had been asleep for two whole days, and he had awoken only yesterday. Good god, it was his fourth day there! No wonder he felt so awful! He had been into battle, sweating under his armor through his run to the battlefield and his fight with one very excited Izuna. How had he managed to ignore his foul state thus far? Instead of following to the kitchen, he excused himself for a bath. Izuna was sent ahead to wait in the kitchen while his brother assisted in running the bath water. When the bath was nearly filled and Tobirama had thoroughly assured him that the temperate was just fine, he left and Tobirama was finally alone.
He peered into the white tub and looked at the water longingly before stripping himself of his silks. He settled into the bath with a sigh of contentment and rested his arms along the sides of the tub. Part of him felt as if he was trespassing. The bathtub was much larger than anything in his own home, and he had the vague sense that he was in the bath of royalty. Amused, he realized that he was, in a sense, correct. After all, he was in the home of the clan head. That was sort of like clan royalty, wasn't it? Though the thought of his own brother seated upon a thrown was enough to justify him dismissing the idea. Hashirama as a king? Ha! His brother was as immature and irresponsible as they came. Thinking of his brother as a king was some sort of sick joke. However, seeing as he truly was the one handling the affairs of the Senju thus far, that made him feel like some sort of shadow king. He was ashamed to admit that the thought was a little pleasing.
Now, in the seclusion of the bath, he finally allowed himself to really think about home. It was doubtful that Hashirama missed him, he was under no illusions. But without him, who was managing clan affairs? They were in the midst of deals with the Sarutobi, and the Inuzuka were making threats to their lands. Not even to mention their issues with the Hyuga, who were long since allied with the Uchiha and nearly as powerful. He supposed that Touka would have to step up in his absence. She was of the few Senju that still spoke to him, and he supposed he knew her well. She was strong but kind. Not to mention that she was intelligent, and had a will of fire that would not tolerate Hashirama's temper tantrums or belittling. Yes, she was the most obvious choice. Hashirama would likely prefer having Touka around more anyway. She hadn't done anything to receive his brother's wrath as he had.
When he finally left the bath and went back to his bedroom (he had almost gone back to Madara's habitually), he realized that there were clothes laid out, so beautiful that he was afraid to touch them. He recognized the yukata as one he had seen in Madara's ajar wardrobe the first day he awoke, and wondered if it was meant to be another gift. The cloth was a gorgeous shade of blue, deeper than the ocean, with swirls of white fog curling up his legs and around his waist. This was the first time he'd ever worn something so beautiful, and he chose not to think about how expensive it must have been. The Senju were practical. They wore inexpensive clothes that they often made themselves, and they had to be easy to move in- they had to be prepared for battle at a moment's notice, after all. Yukata were out of the question. The only guide he had for struggling into the clothes was that he had seen the clan heads wearing yukata in meetings he attended with Hashi (his brother was oblivious to inter-clan happenings), and he found that he could not figure out how to tie the obi. It wound up messily knotted with too much material hanging from the knot, but he didn't know what else to do. Asking for help would be too embarrassing.
Dressed, though clumsily, Tobirama made his way to the kitchen. The brothers were wrestling on the floor and he thought for a moment that something had happened, but then he saw the glee on Madara's face. His face was red with exertion and there was a wide grin across his face that Tobirama hadn't expected. Watching them, he wondered if that's what he and Hashirama could have been if not for the river. Perhaps even Itama or Kawarama would have smiled like that for him. The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips. Perhaps if they had been born in another time, another place, the four of them could have had moments like this. It could have been nice, not being alone.
Izuna finally gave in when he realized Madara's headlock would not be easily broken, and he moved away with a pout after being released. He looked absolutely sullen until Madara ruffled his hair affectionately. At that, Izuna perked up like a child and gave his brother a half hearted shove. It seemed that only then did they notice Tobirama's presence. Izuna visibly jumped in shock while Madara's eyes gave a once over of the sloppy yukata. Tobirama was glad when he didn't mention it. However, Izuna wasn't so kind.
"You look like you've never worn a yukata in your life."
Tobirama refused to admit that was the truth. The rivalry between he and Izuna had been going on for so long he couldn't see past it, which meant he refused to give Izuna the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
"Izuna," he said instead. "Perhaps you should invest your time in more training. With how easily Madara took you down, you seem like you've never been in a fight in your life."
At that, Madara burst into a fit of body shaking laughter and Izuna's face turned red with suppressed anger, and perhaps embarrassment. He had long since learned that Izuna was quick to anger, and the fastest way to make that happen was to insult his fighting ability. Izuna, like all Uchiha, was prideful. And most of all, he prided himself on his capabilities as a warrior, which Tobirama found made for an amusing time on the battlefield when Izuna wasn't posing enough of a challenge. Any insult to his pride sent him into a rage and a flurry of hits.
It was pretty easy to see that Izuna was gearing up for another fit of his. His whole body had gone tense, the red in his face was still deep with anger, and he was studying Tobirama closely, looking for an opening. The Senju was prepared though. He was calm, collected, and watching Izuna closely. After years of battling Izuna, he knew he could not let his guard down. That would have assured his death in battle. However, this was not a battlefield, and Izuna was without a weapon, so Tobirama allowed himself just a moment's glance at Madara, who was sprawled out on the floor recovering from his laughter.
That moment was all it took for Izuna to pounce.
Izuna's hands darted out and knotted into his obi before yanking him onto the floor. Before long, they were caught in a scuffle with Madara cheering for Tobirama to take him down. Tobirama's chest was heaving, his arms ached from days without proper movement, but he found himself enjoying the fight. Even when Izuna managed to wrap a leg around him and pin him to the floor, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Izuna was smiling too, and Tobirama knew that this fight was different than all the others they had in the past. Izuna was not looking at him with malice, nor was he going in for the lethal attack. No, they were fighting for the simple enjoyment of it, and for once he felt like this is what having a true brother was like. No one in his life had ever done this with him. Not even as children. So being there in the Uchiha house with Izuna acting so fondly, and Madara's cheering lightening his spirits, he couldn't stop laughing. He laughed until his gut hurt and his eyes watered, and was still laughing when Izuna released him to catch his own breath. All morning, his heart had been on some wild ride, and this small thing was enough to help him let go of all the burdens he was holding in his heart.
"Well," came Izuna's breathless jab. "I suppose you need training even more than I." Tobirama couldn't help the small smile that curved on his lips.
"It does not take much to pin a man who was comatose for days. This does nothing to prove your worth as a warrior."
And then they were back at it. This time, it was Tobirama who started it, pulling Izuna's wrist quickly and sending him flailing onto the floor. Tobirama won this round. Izuna was flat on his stomach, with his arm twisted behind his back, and one of Tobirama's knees planted firmly along his spine. He realized then why the Senju did not wear yukata. The material was restricting and twisted around his limbs during the fight in a way that made him feel like his clothing was a snake coiling around him. In a true battle, that yukata may have been his demise.
"As I said Izuna, that single win does nothing to show your ability." And with a sly smile, he released the arm he had twisted behind his back and offered him a hand up. Izuna took it, but did not use it to stand. Instead, he pulled Tobirama to the floor swiftly and the two of them erupted into laughter. In just a few minutes with Izuna, Tobirama found that he laughed more than he did in a month at the Senju compound. Actually, when was the last time he laughed at home? He could not recall.
Somehow, even after years of being at each other's throats and trying to kill each other, Izuna made him feel at ease. Tobirama never would have imagined he would feel most at home in the heart of enemy territory, laying on the floor with his longest rival. But there they were. Playfully insulting each other and shoving at each other like children.
Finally, Madara held out a hand to each of them and hauled them up, then told them to take a seat while he prepared their meal. So he and Izuna made their way to the table in the kitchen and sat down across from each other, still throwing half-hearted insults. It took a while, but he finally realized that Izuna's chakra was different here. It was not as filled with dark emotion and hatred as it was in battle, but it was much more similar to Madara's now. His chakra felt light, and warm, like the embodiment of the fire that their clan symbolized. Part of him wanted to move to sit next to Izuna, just to get closer to that chakra. Tobirama wondered if all of the Uchiha were like that. Was it just these two brothers whose chakra was such a comfort to him, or was the entire clan as warm and joyful as they? He closed his eyes a moment to concentrate on any surrounding chakras. They were far away, but he could feel the faint flicker of the other Uchihas' chakras. To his surprise, they were all just as warm and joyful as Izuna and Madara's. This was nothing like the Senju clan, where even children were taught to suppress their chakras and their emotions (Hashirama was a rare exception). Here, their chakra was wild and free, and so, so bright. Tobirama was suddenly struck with jealousy. If he had lived here among the Uchiha, had he not been born a Senju, would he shine as brightly as they did? When he finally opened his eyes again, Izuna was staring at him with something akin to concern, and Madara too was watching him from the kitchen.
"What, is there something on my face?" The question had been a joke, but he found his hands dampened with tears when he reached up. Oh. To his surprise, Madara came from the kitchen to round the table and wipe his tears away. It was touching, but he realized that the Uchiha probably thought he was crying out of actual sadness. He offered them a coy smile and pulled his face out of Madara's hands to dab at his tears with the soft sleeves of the yukata.
"Are you alright, Tobirama?" Izuna's voice came out soft, and Tobirama realized he actually was concerned for him.
"Yes, yes, I'm quite alright. It's all just a little overwhelming. Being here, I mean." When the brothers' eyes did not lose their concern he realized that he would need to spell it out for them. "It's your chakra." Their eyes shifted from concerned to confused. Not much better. "You Uchiha are so free with your chakra. Among the Senju, we are taught to hide our chakra when we are young. And you're so warm. The both of you. I wanted to know if your entire clan was the same, or if it was just the two of you."
Now, it was Madara's turn to speak. "I had almost forgotten you were a sensor. Well, what did you find? Is our chakra really all that special here?"
Tobirama shifted his gaze down to his fingers, which he found knotted in the obi of his yukata.
"It's everyone," he said quietly. "Your entire clan. The adults, the children. You all burn so brightly. It's unlike anything I've ever felt." He finally got the courage to look them in the eyes, and found them smiling.
"Your clan. It feels like home."
Trying to make longer updates now, little by little. Also, thanks for reading! How is this book at #1 in madatobi and at 321 views??? This book is going pretty badly so far, and it's been published just under a month so that's kinda crazy (I didn't even try promoting it on my other account so I didn't think anyone would see it). I don't really understand, but I'm thankful for everyone who's taken the time to read it! It makes me really happy to see votes and comments, and when I get alerts that it's been added to people's reading lists I feel pretty great. It's motivating me to try making this story better, even though I started it just for a pastime really.
Also, I hate reading author's notes so I try not putting them into my stories. I just couldn't resist this one. Sorry!
I love baby Izu❤️❤️❤️