One dream in Paris

13. Pillow talk (Madara)

He was looking at me with intent.

It was still the three of us, together in his vast bed, and I was stroking Hashirama's hair non-stop as he was sleeping, planting a kiss on the top of his head from time to time.

But Tobirama was staring at me, his eyes so icy I couldn't look, but couldn't look away, either.

"Maddie", he murmured so as not to wake Hashirama up. Hashirama seemed to be a person who just decided to go to sleep and immediately succeeded, and slept until he decided to wake up; nothing seemed to be able to stir him unless he thought it worthwhile. He had thought me to be worthwhile when I woke him up after clubbing...

"Mmm", I said, looking at the white-haired, naked man while scratching Hashirama's neck the way Tobirama had done with me; it had been painfully pleasant.

He took my hand then, placed his lips on it.

"You're different", he said.

Suddenly, a fright grabbed at my heart.

"Tobirama", I said, looking away. "Please don't put any pressure on me. I am the way I am. I wish for you to love me that way."

Tobirama looked hurt. "I didn't mean I don't like you the way you are. I have always liked you, for as long as I've known you." He squeezed my hand, an enhancement of his words, anchoring them within me. "But isn't it so that this is also the man you are? Just because you're different doesn't mean you're someone else." He looked down on Hashirama then. "But..." He swallowed, and I could see the words that came next pained him. "I won't be good for you, Maddie. Not like he will."

I looked down on Hashirama as well, lifted a strand of his hair with my free hand that Tobirama wasn't placing infinite kisses on top of.

"It is what it is", I said simply.

Tobirama kept looking at Hashirama, face still pained, wishing he was something else that he could never be.

Just like I wished I was.

Something definitely changed with the atmosphere at work after that.

We were all happier, more at ease. I also noticed that I had calmed down. Seemed like fucking and being fucked by Hashirama and Tobirama had done me a ton of good. I had not become a nice guy, by any means; I still kept mostly to myself, rarely looking up (although now the main reason was that I would find Tobirama stare at me, arms crossed, biting his lip as if he was thinking about what he wanted to do to me, and I would blush so much I just found it easier not to look to begin with). But I didn't mind interacting with others as much as I used to. Once or twice, I even did so on my own accord. When our junior chef was chopping onions, I stood behind her, one hand on hers on the knife, showing her how to chop properly. She was trembling the whole time and I indulged; I didn't like women that way but it was nice to feel desired.

Speaking of desired...

If the tension between me and T was silent and thick like the edge of a thunderstorm, the one between me and Hashirama was more free, more relaxed. He would walk past me cooking and steal a piece of food. I would walk past him doing the dishes and scratch his neck. With Tobirama, I felt a nervousness and I couldn't help but feel that the nervousness was not a positive one, but caused me a lot of anxiety. With Hashirama, however...

But the overall tension in the kitchen decreased, and I realised how much of that tension had been caused by me. I had always known it, somehow, but truly seeing how a change in my mood changed the mood in the kitchen did something to me.