Unfathomable

28.

Madara:

Two days later, I came home from a walk with Hashi in the sun. I couldn't ski because of the risk of my wounds opening up, so I was stuck with walks. Which was fine, but not the same. But when we came into the hallway, Tobirama was standing there clad in checked, soft trousers and an oversized T-shirt.

"Madara, may we speak?" he asked with his unusually deep voice.

I kind of didn't want to, but of course couldn't say so. "Sure", I said.

We ended up going outside, the two of us, walking next to each other. Tobirama was quiet at first, as if collecting his thoughts. I dreaded what he was going to say. In the end, the silence killed me, so I decided to break it.

"Look, Tobirama. I know what I did was manipulative. I know it was selfish. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry for letting Izuna go through all of this. You must believe I'm trying to take Izuna away from you. I can assure you that's not the case! I-"

"Madara..." Tobirama stopped and turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. He was exactly my height, and that combined with his eerie eye colour made eye contact with him particularly hard. "Madara, no. I don't think any of those things." I felt my lips part slightly. "You're obviously struggling. How is that selfish? And the self-harm... Madara, look at me. Do I look like someone who doesn't know how mental health works? Even if you were trying to manipulate someone, which I don't believe you were, it's part of a disorder. If you had a cold, I wouldn't blame you for blowing your nose. If you are depressed, I don't blame you for self-harming. I don't like it, not one bit. But I understand." Wow, this man... I felt a surge of happiness for Izuna at having found him. "I want you to stop it. And..." At that, he put his fingertips to my cheek, for just a fraction of a second. "And not just for Izuna's sake. I like you, too." And with that, his touch was gone, but we were still facing each other. "And I'm sorry for blaming you. For what happened to Izuna. I don't want to make any excuses, and I think you know how distressed I was. I'm sorry I blamed you. I'm sorry I blamed myself. It was all on Izuna and Izuna himself. He shouldn't have made that decision. And I'm so impressed by, and proud of, how well he's living with the consequences of his own actions."

We just looked at each other then, me probably with eyes wide as saucers, him with brows slightly furrowed, a serious expression on his face as his short hair and light summer jacked moved softly in the wind. I don't know how, but we ended up in an embrace, holding each other, the fate of Izuna, the man both of us loved the most, entwining our hearts together in a legacy forever.

"Thank you for not leaving him", I whispered.

"The thought has never struck me. He's stuck with me. He's stuck with me now."

As we parted, he placed the quickest peck on my lips, before we turned to head back, him offering his arm to me, me taking it, walking through the alp summer in silence.

I leaned my head on Hashi's shoulder, looking down on the magazine he was reading. It was about furniture building, and I had looked at him questioningly at the airport when he'd bought it.

"What? Might come in handy. If I ever become a husband." He winked at me then, and I had blushed so much I'd had to hide my face in my hands, earning myself a kiss on the top of my head from Hashi.

I didn't particularly like flying. It was a nuisance, being stuck in a tube breathing the same air as hundreds of other people, but the flight wasn't very long, for which I was glad. I managed to fall asleep on Hashi somehow, and woke up when the plane touched ground in Heathrow. I realised I had drooled on Hashi's shoulder, and I looked up at him with huge eyes, the trail of saliva still going from the corner of my lip to the fabric of his dark green cardigan.

"Oh, my God, I am so sorry, Hashi", I said, still making no effort to dry myself and him up out of pure shock. He laughed so much he started crying.

We were staying in London for a couple of days to explore. We went to our hotel, the InterContinental at the O2 arena, to unpack. The suite was, of course, luxurious. I blushed when I realised how much Hashi must've paid for this. I wanted to pay for my own stay, but both me and Hashi knew I couldn't afford it. I heard the thunk of Hashi dumping his summer coat on the floor, and turned to him. He stood there, just looking at me. Suddenly, I was ravenous.

"Hashi..."

"Mmm?"

"I can count the number of times we've fucked on one hand. It's getting ridiculous."

With three long strides, he stood glued to me, and cupped my face in his hand. "Agreed." And he bent down and kissed me slowly.

Our hands started searching over our bodies then, our breathing ragged. It took us only a few seconds until we were naked on the bed, me on top of him, kissing madly. He pulled his fingers through my hair, and I grabbed his and pulled. I started placing kisses all over his upper body, trailing my way down. Hashi furrowed his brows in anticipation when he realised where I was going.

"Madara..." he murmured darkly.

"Shut the fuck up", I said, and took him in my mouth.

He leaned his head back and shouted in surprise. I didn't even give him one second to adjust, but started to blowing him like a maniac immediately. I let my lips work up and down, twirling my tongue, causing him to convulse. For two minutes, I just worked him, and I could see how hard he worked, leaning back on his elbows, not to come. I disconnected us, saliva and pre-cum connecting my lips to his tip, and he pulled me up for a kiss, tasting himself. I loved it when men did that. For me, it was proof of maturity, of self-distance and of being comfortable with oneself and one's sexuality. It turned me on endlessly.

"Fuck me", I demanded.

And he did. I was on all four, him behind me, hands on my hips, thrusting from behind while grunting. There was a mirror opposite us, and I loved seeing his taut upper body, his tall, slim figure a nice contrast to my muscular, more curvaceous and shorter one, his hand in my hair, pulling my head back as he fucked me from behind. Before he came, he turned me over so I was on my back, put my legs on his shoulders and once more penetrated me, and started making love to me instead of fucking me, one hand cupping my cheek, his eyes locked with mine. I swear it was his intense gaze that made me come. Hashi pulled out before he was finished himself, started beating himself while he bent down to lick my stomach, tasting my cum. Fuck, it was hot.

"Hashi... In my mouth... Please!" I begged.

"Fuuuuuck, Madara..." He shuffled closer to my face. "When you beg like that."

I opened my mouth and took him, and I barely breathed on him before he filled me to the brim with a scream. When he'd emptied himself, he grabbed my hair harshly.

"Now, swallow me", he demanded. As if he needed to. I looked at him cockily and took him all down. The corner of his mouth twitched. The way this man switched from the caring, worried partner to the complete whore of a sex God he was now, dominating the fuck out of me... It was insane. It drove me insane. He pulled me close to me, held me close, my sticky body close to his, breathed my scent in.

"I love you", he said. "I love you so much."

And I felt it too; how our bond deepened with each conversation, with each time we kissed, with each time we fucked. I hugged him back. The sense of serenity and stability he'd brought to my chaotic life, allowing me to be myself while at the same time tethering me to reality.

"I love you too", I said.