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“It’s too hot.”
“WHAT THE FUCK SENJU!!” Madara whirls around and yes, that is one Senju Tobirama stepping out into the beach as if he just happened to run into him at a tea shop in Konoha and not halfway to Wood Country in an isolated cove currently being used to dispose of a corpse.
“I said, it’s too hot,” Tobirama said, because he thought it was funny to pretend like he didn’t know exactly what Madara had meant. Not deigning to acknowledge this petty tactic, Madara pointedly turned back to the pyre that was just starting to get going.
“It’s a fire, Senju,” he said with all the scorn he could muster - which was quite a lot. “They’re meant to be hot. What are you doing here, or do you just make a habit of lurking around unpopulated coasts?
Tobirama stepped closer with an annoyed tch and completely ignored Madara’s ignoring him. Unbelievable. No, it was entirely, excessively believable. He critically inspected the dead harbor seal that still wasn’t showing any signs of catching fire.
“I wasn’t sure if it would revert to human after it died or not.” Tobirama had his hands clasped behind his back, presumably because that was the only way he could keep from reaching into the fire to examine the thing.
“Obviously it didn’t.” Madara huffed. “Don’t tell me you know what it is.”
“It’s called a selkie. Must you burn it?” Tobirama was craning his neck to get a look at the underside of the thing’s visible flipper.
“You actually know?” Madara stopped in the middle of a rather theatrical eye roll to glare with baffled outrage. It was an expression he used frequently with Tobirama, and five years after the founding of Konoha he was quite good at it. “How do you know that?” Madara wasn’t sure if he wanted to be impressed or annoyed. Well, no, he wanted to be annoyed. He always wanted to be annoyed with Tobirama. “And while I know perfectly well that you’d be delighted to spend the next few days elbow deep in the corpse of a strange creature that’s been eating civilians, when an Uchiha comes across a creature they’ve never seen before, we don’t just call it a day after the body stops twitching. We make sure it’s dead.”
“A sensible policy, I suppose.” Tobirama sighed.
Anyone who thought Tobirama wasn’t dramatic was only comparing him to Hashirama. Madara knew his was an opinion not shared by the majority, and half-heartedly wished some of the louder naysayers could hear the outright dejection in Tobirama’s acceptance. Not that he spent much time discussing Tobirama with other people. He hardly ever did it. Only when they brought it up first. And now Tobirama was staring at him. Because he’d kept on talking. Madara ran back over the last few moments, maybe if he kept the blank look up for a bit longer it would come across as an intentional lack of response and not just-
“What do you mean you’ve read about them?”
“Reading, Madara, perhaps you’ve heard of the activity? They’re mentioned in a few of the less popular travel journals-“
“You mean they come up exactly four times across the three oldest, dustiest scrolls written by the most obtuse scholars with the worst handwriting and-”
“And,” Tobirama continued with an increase in volume which was the only sign he gave to noticing Madara’s interruption. “The records are not at all clear as to whether they are seals that turn into humans or humans that turn into seals, though most of what I’ve read appears to be founded on the premise of a fundamentally human identity. They seem to be able to maintain either form indefinitely, though the records I have access to, being written and kept by humans, are obviously primarily concerned with their actions as humans, which could easily account for the disproportionate data. There really isn’t enough data to judge, and it would make sense that records made and kept by humans would be primarily about how the creatures interact with humanity. It’s interesting that it retained the form it died in. It could suggest that they are fundamentally seals that can appear human, as it seems probable that the transformation would have reverted if it was a case of a human working some sort of sustained chakra manipulation-“
“Not that I don’t enjoy listening to you prattle on, Senju,” Madara interrupted. He’d meant to sound snide, but he wasn’t quite sure he had done it right. Trying again would look suspicious so Madara went with the time honored clan technique of barreling on without acknowledging that anything had happened. “But why exactly are you here? You obviously weren’t intending to provide any combat support.”
Aside from his faceguard, Tobirama wasn’t wearing any armor at all. While he must be carrying only the bare minimum of concealed weaponry, he wasn’t even wearing a sword, and. Well. For Tobirama that was practically en déshabille.
“The daiyamo’s envoy arrived earlier than expected. You’re needed back at Konoha tomorrow morning.” Somehow Tobirama managed to sniff, roll his eyes, and sigh all in one sentence. Dramatic little bastard.
This was a perfect Tobirama response, because it provided a technical solution to the question which happened to be correct and obscured the fact that it was a completely, totally unhelpful non answer. Madara was prepared to explain (at length, if needed) exactly how unhelpful of an answer it was when he caught the look in Tobirama’s eye. Well then. Scowl melting into a smirk, Madara switched tactics.
“Still there’s no reason for you to have put yourself to the trouble of fetching me. A summons could have brought me that message and I could easily get back to the village if I traveled through the night.”
"I can you back faster than any other way. There’s no advantage to you showing up to greet the envoy unwashed and having been awake for days. It’s obviously hard enough for you to be presentable when you’re well rested and bathed.” Tobirama had been smug while demonstrating his knowledge of obscure creatures but now the look he sent Madara was pure annoyance.
Uh huh. Madara’s smirk had teeth in it now. “Really. Well if that’s true then I’m grateful for your consideration.”
“I’m concerned about the light in which our village presents itself to the world, not your personal vanity, and why wouldn’t it be true?” Tobirama snapped, because he also fell back on bluster when he was at a disadvantage, he just kept a straight face the whole time and so managed to fool most people.
“Well,” Madara stepped closer. “I thought that maybe the reason you came all the way out to this completely isolated location where there isn’t a single person other than you and me for miles…” Practice had given Madara a precise idea of how long he could drag the taunting out before Tobirama’s annoyance overcame his libido. He could get an extra three seconds if he made a show about nuzzling up close to Tobirama’s ear, like he was doing now. “I thought you might want me to get down on my knees and suck your cock until you begged me to let you come.”
“Ah.” Tobirama was obviously struggling to maintain an aloof bearing. He might have succeeded, if Madara hadn’t licked his pulse and followed that with the lightest scrape of teeth. “I - ah! I can have more than one reason for doing something.”
Madara suspected the chuckle he made into Tobirama’s neck was suspiciously fond but - it wasn’t as if there was anyone to hear them. He let his hands run down Tobirama’s stomach and grasp lean hips while he trailed kisses across Tobirama’s neck and to his jaw, purposefully taking his time. He had just started to think about trees, and the benefits of shoving Tobirama up against one, when he was interrupted.
“This would be better with a bedroll.” Tobirama was still trying to be annoyed, but the arm sliding around Madara’s waist wasn’t anything but eager.
“Well I haven’t set up a camp for the night so unless you know of a bedroll conveniently to hand…” Madara watched with delight while a slow flush crept across Tobirama’s face. “You do? You presumptuous bastard.”
“Shut up,” Tobirama followed the (somewhat breathily delivered) order by fitting his mouth over Madara’s, as if he knew that was the only reliable way to keep Madara from talking.
There was a surge of chakra and then they were in a small grove and Tobirama was walking backwards, pulling Madara with him in the direction of a bedroll. Madara noticed his own pack was there, neatly unpacked next to a cleared area that could become a fire in the unlikely event they needed another, smaller one. Madara was feeling merciful and didn’t make a sarcastic comment. Besides, making fun of Tobirama would necessarily require him to stop kissing Tobirama, and he knew what his priorities were thank you very much.
Kiss melted into kiss as Tobirama let himself be pushed down onto the bedroll. While Tobirama’s touches were scattered and almost random, Madara was focused, and he had Tobirama half out of his clothing by the time they had to separate for air. He pushed Tobirama’s shirt back and off his shoulders, taking his time, nipping little bites down Tobirama’s abdomen and enjoying every gasp and twitch he wrung from his partner along the way.
Tobirama was hardly a passive bedmate, but he was … somewhat ineffectual. His hands grasped but then released an instant later to clutch at the sheets, his own hair, Madara’s shoulders, anything in his reach. He arched his hips and tangled his legs with Madara’s in such a way as to prevent either of them from accomplishing more than a sloppy off center grind. It was amusing, but Madara had refrained from teasing, because he did have some tact, no matter what Izuna said, and also. Well. The sight of the cool and imperturbable Senju Tobirama, on his back, flushed and panting and hardly able to do more than clutch at the ground beneath him was. Gratifying. To say the least.
“Aren’t you even going to take any of your clothes off,” Tobirama grumbled, and, well, there was a thought.
Madara’s lips twitched. “Well, now I’m not.”
Tobirama tried to look annoyed. The effect was somewhat ruined by his flushed cheeks and spread legs, but Madara didn’t mind. He let his teeth graze a patch of skin beneath Tobirama’s navel, and was rewarded with a gratifying full body shiver. A glance up showed Tobirama’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Madara dipped his head back down and took Tobirama into his mouth. Tobirama gasped. His hands rubbed up and down Tobirama’s thighs in slow, ostensibly calming strokes. Tobirama clutched at Madara’s shoulders. He dragged his thumb along the crease of Tobirama’s thigh, let the side of his hand brush against Tobirama’s balls. Tobirama choked on a moan.
Madara was not precisely past the point of feeling smug, but the scent of Tobirama was overpowering, and the satisfaction of the noises Tobirama was currently making was less important than the weight of Tobirama’s cock on his tongue, the fingers digging into his shoulders and hair, the tremble of smooth muscle under his hands, the faint ache starting in his jaw. Time became less important, something he could only keep track of by the increasing desperation in Tobirama’s cries.
“I’m going to-!”
Madara sucked hard, sinking down until he could feel blunt pressure at the back of his throat, and worked his tongue against the underside of Tobirama’s cock as best he could.
“Fuck! Madara!”
Madara had a moment to be pleased with himself before Tobirama, always annoyingly quick to recover, grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up. The kiss was decidedly lopsided, Madara’s fierce pressure against Tobirama’s languid yielding. Tobirama fumbled his hand through Madara’s clothing, and the uncharacteristic clumsiness was just something else for Madara to feel smug about. He finally got his hand where he wanted it, only slightly hampered by Madara’s own hand on his cock, and gripped it firmly, letting Madara set his own fast, uneven pace. The next time their mouths separated Madara tucked his head into the crook of Tobirama’s neck, and made a noise that he would later categorically deny was a whine.
“Fuck, Madara, come on.” Tobirama twisted until he could press an awkward kiss to Madara’s temple, more of an open mouthed breath than anything else. “Just like this. Come on. I want you to come for me Madara, I want to see you come, fuck, yes.” Tobirama brushed Madara’s hair back while he babbled, let his hand continue around to the back of Madara’s head and tugged gently. Madara obligingly lifted his head, his eyes glazed and barely focusing on Tobirama’s face. “Fuck. You are so beautiful. Yes. Let me see you.”
Madara’s eyes closed when he spilled into their joined hands, but he knew that Tobirama was still watching. He shivered under the weight of that stare, palpable even with his eyes closed. Release, as always with Tobirama, seemed to pull every scrap of tension from his muscles, including that needed to keep holding himself up. Madara was too much a shinobi to collapse onto Tobirama’s body but he didn’t make any attempt to take any of his weight, letting himself settle fully onto Tobirama’s body. He would get up in a bit, but he knew how much Tobirama liked feeling the weight of him in these moments afterwards and, well. It wasn’t any kind of hardship to let himself sink into the strong body beneath him.
*
Because Madara wasn’t allowed to have nice things, a loud SNAP interrupted them, destroying the afterglow. In the next instant, they were on their feet with kunai drawn. Both men scanned their surroundings and more or less immediately identified the issue. Their reactions were simultaneous but quite different.
Madara said “SHIT!” and dashed towards the pyre, which was now twenty feet high and sending sparks and gouts of flames for another twenty feet beyond that.
Tobirama said “Ugh,” and looked around for his pants.
By the time he had located and donned these and the rest of his clothing, Madara had made a number of attempts to quench the blaze, most of which at least hadn’t made it bigger. The fire was admittedly well beyond what even fairly competent katon specialists could contain, but Tobirama still gave Madara an extremely judgmental glare as he joined him.
“I don’t want to hear it!” Madara snarled in a belligerently futile attempt to stave off the inevitable.
“I told you it was too hot,”’said Tobirama, determined that Madara was in fact going to hear it. “You’re the one from the clan of fire specialists, you shouldn’t have needed me to tell you what happens when you try to burn something that is essentially a mass of fat and oils.”
“Really? ‘I told you so,’ that’s what you’re going with?” Madara hissed. “How was I supposed to guess the thing was abnormally fat?? It wasn’t when it was human!”
“It isn’t in the least abnormal. Seals are deep sea creatures, a substantial portion of their body mass is blubber for insulation and buoyancy -“ Tobirama frowned. “Are you telling me you’ve never disposed of marine life before?”
“Never,” Madara snapped. “Because we live in Fire Country.”
“Fire Country has a substantial coastline-” Tobirama looked torn between rolling his eyes and scowling harder.
“I don’t care!” Madara had a fairly good hand on the inferno, but the fire surged with his temper. He probably would have noticed that it was perilously close to getting out of hand if he had been arguing with anyone other than Tobirama. “We Uchiha are sensible people who don’t have anything to do with the ocean, because it’s wet and cold and it smells bad, and it’s not like we regularly get contracted to murder dolphins!”
“Every adult shinobi should have a basic understanding across a wide variety of fields-“
“Well, guess what?” A gout of fire behind Madara’s head surged up to the same height it had been before Madara’s interference. “Not everyone knows all the things you know! Because you’re a huge fucking nerd and some people have better things to do than-“
“Oh for-!”
Tobirama pulled sand from either side of the blaze and sent two massive waves of sand crashing into each other, where they collapsed down to smother the fire. The cresting tide began to splash into the two holes left by Tobirama’s hasty douton. From the side of one of them, where he had almost managed to jump free before Tobirama literally pulled the ground out from under his feet, Madara glared up at Tobirama with a vaguely homicidal glint in his eyes that promised he would be seeking revenge soon. Seeing that there was nothing he could do for that situation, Tobirama turned to the smoldering heap. Sand was streaming away in all directions, and the half charred body of the seal was becoming more visible by the second.
“I think we can say that it is conclusively dead by now. I’m going to seal it into a storage scroll and take it back for further study, unless you have any objections?”
Madara made a noise which defied transcription. Tobirama decided to take it as an agreement.