Madara:
5 years previously
I opened the door to our house.
"Madara!!"
"Ouff! Haha, careful!"
Izuna had thrown himself into my arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"
I held him at arms' length, marveling at him. He was so beautiful, much more so than me. I felt no remorse at all at that; only pride. "You opened it?"
"Yes, when are we leaving?" He was literally bouncing.
"In two weeks", I smiled.
"Wow..." he whispered, looking at the book he held in his hand. It was a guide book to London and a pair of concert tickets.
"Was about time we went somewhere together, just the two of us. I've booked us into the Intercontinental at the O2 arena, right next to where the concert will be. Dinner first night is in the Intercontinental. My treat."
"Madara, thank you." He looked at me with large eyes.
"It's not everyday your favorite human turns fifteen."
"I know, but this... It's so much. How could you afford it?"
"By working. Listen, Izuna..." I sat him down on the couch in the hallway. "I don't tell you nearly enough, but you are the purpose of my life. I love you more than anything. And I'm so proud of you. You're the smartest person I know. And you will always be my first priority. There is so much in this world I need to show you. I feel restless, like I can't take it easy before I've given you everything. I-" I swallowed. "Nothing is ever allowed to happen to you. I promise to always look after you."
I had looked down on the floor my entire speech, but when I looked up, Izuna was crying.
One year later, he would make that one decision that would ruin the rest of his short life.
Present time
Hashirama:
I fumbled desperately with the key to the locker of my apartment. It felt like it took ages to get it right, and no wonder; I had a delicious creature clawing at my clothes, kissing me with passion, pressing himself against my groin. And I kissed him back with equal passion, our moaning voices blending together and finally, I managed to open the door. I pushed him inside, closed the door harshly and locked it. Madara pressed himself up against the wall and pulled me in so I pushed him even harder against it. We were so desperate that we didn't even try to get ourselves to my bedroom; instead, Madara sunk down to his knees, and I followed until I were laying on top of him, still not letting go of his lips.
"Hahh... Mr Senju..." he breathed.
'Mr Senju'? Fuck me...
"Mmm?" I answered.
But before he could say anything, I went down, kissing his neck, his deliciously displayed shoulder. He moaned happily as I pulled the collar of his sweatshirt aside a little, getting a better view of his collarbone which I carefully licked.
"You are so fucking sweet", I murmured.
We still had our coats and shoes on, but I started to desperately undress myself until I was bare-chested over him. Madara got the cutest little blush on his face and looked away.
"Madara..."
"Hmm?"
"You're allowed to look." I grabbed his face gently and turned his face towards me, locked my eyes with his that were glassy, hooded over with desire. "You're allowed to look at me."
And I saw him ravaging my upper body with his eyes, put his hands on my six-pack that I'd worked so hard because as I believed it was expected of me, further along the serratus muscles on my sides and on to my back. I carefully, very carefully removed his coat, and then his grey sweater as he lay panting underneath me.
"So sweet... Like a flower..." I murmured as I revealed his upper body. His nipples were like rosebuds and I couldn't help but bend down and take one in my mouth. Madara screamed, then put his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. "You're so cute", I smiled and continued working the bud with my tongue, feeling it harden up and blossom underneath my hot breath.
"Mr Senju, please!" he wailed.
And I moved my mouth to his other bud, laughing warmly while teasing him. Sweat had started dripping down the sides of his face in anticipation.
"Madara, may I ask something?"
"You just did", he panted.
"Very funny. Are you-" I came up to his face, took it in both my hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "Have you had sex before? Are you-"
Madara looked at me with an adorable angry expression.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy, it's just... I want to take care of you properly."
"What a gentleman..." he said sarcastically in a low voice, but it wasn't an unfriendly one.
"Madara, please..."
His face softened. "I'm not a virgin", he said. "Although, I guess I am, when it comes to sex with a man."
That was all I needed to know. I stood up on my knees and took him in my arms to carry him to my bedroom. This would need a soft mattress.
For an hour, I worked on him. I had put one digit at his opening, carefully pushing in, causing Madara to cling to me and hide his face on my shoulder.
And I let him, as I carefully worked my finger in and out, in and out, for a good fifteen minutes, until his heavy breathing became moans of pleasure, until he was asking for more and in the end even begging.
"Mr Senju, please, more!"
That polite title maddened me. And I inserted another digit, and in the end a third, meanwhile beating his dick with my other hand to make him relax as much as possible. He was so aroused, his tip was dripping and my hand slid over as if it was covered in oil. My own erection was bulging so much, I thought it would explode. I planted kisses on his freckled shoulder as we sat up close to each other, me warming him up, him clinging to me after I had ordered him to not think about my needs but only enjoy what I was doing to him. He listened to me. He was very good.
And after that full hour of working, of exploring, of warming up, I pulled him into my lap and guided myself to his opening, and he lowered himself over me willingly, bending his head back and moaning as I entered.
"Fuck..." he whispered and started jumping.
He felt so good around me, I started to grunt. I had a firm grip around his waist, my large hands practically engulfing him, and I lifted him up and released him over myself in the same pace as he was jumping. All the time, I bore my eyes into his, demanding eye contact. He was so beautiful. He was so, so beautiful and I didn't want to waste a second of our love-making not looking at him. And his eyes... He looked as awestruck as I felt. That this special man wanted to go to bed with me...
Madara had struck me as shy, timid, awkward and clumsy. I had imagined him being the same in bed. But boy, was I wrong. Something woke up within him during sex that I had never before seen in any partner. It was as if he'd been through some shit causing him to draw back into his shell, but that our lovemaking opened him up to me, revealing the pearl that lay within and that pearl was wild, wicked, white-hot. He jumped on my dick like there was no tomorrow while digging his long nails into the skin of my shoulders. He scream-moaned at an insane volume and moved his upper body in a way that caused his hair to cascade around us. He put his fingers in my hair and held on to it while continuing making love to me.
"I don't want to come", he wailed. "I don't want this to end!"
At this, I moved so he was slung on his back, without ever releasing his insides with my dick, and put his legs on my shoulders. My hair fell off one shoulder and tickled his face, and he blew gently on it.
"Mr Senju..."
"Please", I said. "Please, call me Hashirama."
"Hashirama..."
Somehow, that was even hotter coming from him than Me Senju.
We continued our love-making act.
Madara:
We lay awake for hours, until the sun began to rise. The alcohol slowly ebbed away from my system, leaving my head deliciously swooning. We lay naked facing each other, a little distance between us, him stroking my hair over and over, me fingering his chest.
And we talked. For all of the hours, we just talked.
"What's your favourite colour?" he asked.
"Orange", I said.
"I'm surprised."
"You expected me to say 'black as my soul' or what?"
"Well... Sorta."
I threw a pillow at his face. He laughed. I laughed, too.
From then, the discussion became more serious.
"Why me?" I asked.
He looked at me. "You're kidding, right?"
"Hashirama, don't mock me. I'm fully aware how others see me. I know they think I'm strange, and awkward. And I'm fine with that. So please tell me why you don't see me the same way."
He turned so he was on his back, put his hands underneath his head, looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I'm sorry", he said. "I didn't mean to belittle you. It's just..." He turned to me again, resting his elbow on the mattress, his head on his hand. "I'm done with it, Madara."
I was taken aback. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"It's all fake. The posh clothes, the confidence, the status. I saw through it years ago. They're faking it. It's not real."
"And you mean I am?"
He took my hand. "Yes." He kissed it. "Yes, I believe so."
I smiled and looked down. "But this isn't the real me." Hashirama didn't say anything, just waited for me to continue. "I... I used to be outgoing, confident, social. I've always looked like this, but before, if anyone remarked on it, I bit back. But now..."
"What happened?" Hashirama asked softly, stroking the skin of my hand with his thumb.
"My little brother died." Whatever Hashirama had expected, it was clearly not this, because his face dropped. "He was a heroin addict. He overdosed. I was the one that found him. I performed CPR, but failed. I-" I swallowed. "I couldn't save him."
"That's why I decided to go into law", I continued. "I had started studying biology, but I changed my mind. I realised I knew too little about drug criminalisation versus legalisation, and I wanted to know more, and if I can, help. In any way I can."
Hashirama was quiet, looking at me. For a long time, he kept looking at me, while I still looked at our hands, where his broad thumb had started drawing circles on my skin. "Have you thought..." he begun, then became quiet, as if asking me for permission to continue.
"What?" I gave him that permission.
"It would probably not have mattered if anyone else gave him CPR. He would probably have died anyway." I contemplated this. I hadn't thought about it that way. "I've read about these cases. Your little brother must have been so far gone when you found him, there was nothing that could've saved him."
I felt tears burning behind my eyes. "They found stomach contents in his lungs. He must've suffocated to death", I whispered.
"Madara, no." Suddenly, Hashirama looked sternly at me. I was taken aback. "After a heroin overdose, the breathing pace decreases. His breathing became slower and slower, until it disappeared. He most likely did not suffocate to death by his stomach contents. He just stopped breathing. It is highly likely the vomiting happened after that."
I stared at him. All this time, I had felt horrible imagining how Izuna had choked to death. But all this time...
I his my face in my hands and cried. Hashirama held me close to his chest, let me cry, let me indulge in the utter relief I felt.
Let me indulge in a Friday night in a handsome man's bed and in university life as it should be and in him.