Rhetorics

11. Bruised knees (Madara)

The week  after was heavy with politics.

I was required to be in parliament every morning until lunch, enabling me for work in the library only afternoons. And thank God for that, at least. I would go mental if I couldn't escape into a world of literature for a few hours a day.

Me and Senju behaved the same towards each other as we'd always done. I would listen to his speeches. He would listen to mine. At five, when both of us finished our jobs outside of politics, he would meet me in the lobby of Samsung. We would go to his office. He would pull his curtains down. He would keep walking in circles around me, the contrast between his intimidating body language and his praise delicious. And after a few days, I noticed a difference in how I performed.

In parliament, I would use Hashirama's tips, implement them in my speeches. I became more daring, having found a balance between my former softer self and Senju's harsh straightforwardness. I looked at him from time to time while speaking. He kept his gaze on me, seemingly without blinking, never letting me go. I would sit down on his desk afterwards.

"Hi", I would say.

"Hi", he would answer. "You did well."

I didn't hate how much his approval meant to me.

I didn't go down on my knees for him after our practices. It wasn't because I didn't want to; oh, I wanted to so badly. But he didn't open up for it. He would stop behind me, let his chin hover above my shoulder.

"You did well", he would murmur.

Then, he would pull the mahogany chopstick out of my hair, letting my mane tumble down my back, blow on it. Every time. Then, he just left me in his office, erect, desperate to suck him. I hated that it hurt me. I didn't understand what had changed. Hadn't he enjoyed it? Hadn't he asked to meet me again the day after, same time, just after I'd blown him off that first time? Had the way he grabbed my hair been an act? Either, he was playing with my feelings, or he hadn't liked it as much as I had thought. I didn't like any of those possibilities.

One week after we had begun, he was just leaving after he'd released my hair.

"Stop."

He did, but he didn't turn around. His brown hair was loose, the line it was cut in razor-sharp.

"What?" he asked.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked.

"Because you asked me to", he said simply.

"But why did you say yes?"

"I refused at first, as you might remember. You convinced me."

"Don't blame me", I said. "I know you're not that easy to convince."

He turned round slightly, let me see the shadow of his nose.

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that I haven't asked you for another blowjob?"

I let my silence speak for itself.

Senju turned around and started walking around me slowly once more. His face was turned to me, even if his body was turned forwards in his direction of motion.

"If I had asked the same thing of you...For help... Would you have helped me?"

I thought for a while. "Yes", I decided.

"Why?"

"You're avoiding my question", I said.

"And you're avoiding mine."

"Because I see beyond your politics", I said. "I see the man behind. And the man behind is someone who could stand by my side politically one day. And I would be so fucking lucky because you're good. If I had any way of making you even better, I would take the risk because I would have so much fucking faith in you that I would believe it would all be worth it in the end."

I realised I had raised my voice, and had to make fists with my hands to stop trembling. Hashirama looked at me, frowning, lips slightly parted.

"Uchiha..."

"I hope you will stand next to me instead of opposite me at some point", I said more calmly.

Hashirama didn't say anything, just contemplated what I had said. Then, he took a step forwards so he was towering over me. He grabbed my chin with his index finger, his other hand in his trouser pocket. My lips opened at the pressure his fingers applied.

"I have seen the question in your eyes. The hope." I didn't know what he was talking about. "When you see me, you wonder if I will ask you this time." He looked to the side. And I realised he was talking about blowjobs. "You're Asian. You're everything I want to abolish in this world. I want to destroy your politics." He looked at me again. "I want to destroy your career." I couldn't breathe. "But still..." He leaned forwards. "That doesn't mean I don't want your knees to bruise beneath me. I'm trying to hold back but I can't."

I immediately went down, but he stopped me.

"Over there." He said softly and looked over at one wall of his office. "The carpet is too soft. I want your knees to hurt so badly you lose your ability to walk."

I pushed him into the wall, went down, pulled his trousers down. He had no underwear, I couldn't help but note. I started sucking. This time, he gave a little sigh as I enclosed him in my hot breath, his hand immediately going to my hair. He didn't use it to force my head, just let it rest there softly. After a few minutes, he even began to moan. It was incredibly hot.

"Madara..."

Him using my name causes me to release him and moan in pleasure. He then put his hand on the back of my head and pushed gently to make me take him again, and I gladly did. I noticed he held back, not wanting to come this time either, saving himself. But still...

Last time, I'd given the man a blowjob. This time, my mouth and his dick had sex.

"By the way", I breathed. "I'm Japanese."

I had bruised knees for weeks.