Marriage talks

The elders hadn't really bothered Madara about marriage or heirs much before he became clan leader because they had plenty of backups for the main line should Madara not sire any. But now, when most of his brothers are dead and his father isn't there to make more... Well.

Most people tended to stay well out of his way on his good days. The streets were basically deserted on his bad one's.

(The elders, however, never got the hint.)

So now here he was, complaining to Hashirama's brother that he'd somehow striken up a sort of friendship with after the war about random clan heiress n. 31.

"You'd think they'd give up after I threatened to slaughter them in their sleep, painfully, but nooo- the senile asses never got the hint. They think they've got some sort of immunity that prevents me from killing them!"

Which, yeah, but it could only do so much in the face of Madara's wrath.

(Which is absolutely nothing.)

Tobirama had a pinched expression on his face, which Madara would like to translate as him being mad on his behalf but was most likely irritation at being interrupted on a work day. Well, not his fault the Senju barely took any days off and Madara so happened to be free and happy to rant.

(He had no idea how right his translation had been at the time.)

And if Madara so happened to choose this day specifically so he wouldn't have to deal with the fallout of the mounting paperwork, that certainly wasn't his fault.

(He internally cackled at the thought of the poor sods that'd have to deal with Tobirama's bad temper. He'd set the flame, now he only needed to fan it more before letting it burn and watch the show.)

He turned around again, continued his pacing and purposely gestured around so that he'd 'accidentally' knock over the stack of paperwork. Again.

(He felt a bit sorry... Well, not really. If he was suffering himself, might as well make someone else suffer with him.)

"Everything would be so much easier-"

Then he turned around again, and wondered if he crossed the line because Tobirama had that expression on his face that said he was containing his rage only by a hairs breath, and Madara hoped it wouldn't be his hair suffering by the end of this day.

"-if I was gay!"

(Which he so was, but he wasn't admitting that in front of the one he loved! What if he gave him a hint!?)

And, oh. This was... interesting. Tobirama's face twisted into a constipated expression before it became blank then finally settled on being constipation again, but with something added. He wondered if this was just a new cycle of rage Tobirama was going through or something else.

"And you make my life so much more difficult."

Madara decided to take that as a compliment and mentally preened. Okay, not just mentally.

"Why, it's my pleasure!"

Because it certainly wasn't Tobirama's.

Ah! His expression became more constipated! He only had one more second to watch Tobirama's reaction before he suddenly got up from his seat and his visible silent rage only made his taller stature all the more obvious to Madara.

(Damned Senju and their damned genes. They descended from giants, Madara tells you!)

It didn't intimidate Madara much, he'd taken on larger opponents- (Hashirama, mostly) -but the rage did. Coming from anyone else, it'd be a joke for Madara, but Tobirama? He knew all too well what he was capable of.

(... Okay, maybe not from anyone else. Hashirama, mad? The world was probably ending. Or something happened to someone important to him. One of the two. Madara wasn't sure which was worse.)

Madara was more powerful, but Tobirama was smarter, and that's a fact he always made sure to keep in mind..... Maybe he shouldn't have knocked over the mountain of paperwork eight times-

Eh. If Madara managed to escape alive, the show would be so worth it.

Tobirama's voice was silky, dangerous in his anger, and no you kami damned Senju, stop doing those things to his poor heart-

"Your pleasure, you say?"

Madara had never thought this would be how he died, but oh well. At least the only thing he'd regret is never confessing to his object of affection.

"I'll show you pleasure."

Madara's body tensed up, preparing for a blow. Maybe he'd use a jutsu?water dragon, most likely. The bloodthirsty part of himself was grinning in glee at the perspective of a fight, a good one considering Tobirama's capabili-

Wait, what?

Madara's brain failed to form a coherent thought as Tobirama had promptly tried to kiss him within an inch of his life. It was obvious he didn't have much experience but the bastard, as much of a genius as he was, was catching up fast.

A low groan unconsciously escaped his lips, a growl following soon after as he immediately threaded his hands within the silky white locks, forcing him closer so as to truly make it a breath taking one.

He took the lead now, experience winning out for the moment as Tobirama assessed the new sensation. Madara kept his eyes open, drinking in the sight of the flushed albino and internally cooing over how surprisingly adorable he looked with a blush.

They were losing air now, so Madara loosened his hold on Tobirama's hair, parting their lips (Madara already missed the lips against his own). Tobirama's grip on his own mane, however, didn't lessen. When he had finally caught enough of his breath to talk, he opened his mouth to speak but any motion of that was blown out of his mind in the next second.

Soft lips slammed against his own again, this time much firmer and coming with a surprise gift in the form of a tongue invading his mouth.

Suddenly, their positions were reversed. While earlier, Madara had been the one observing and gazing, it was Tobirama now. Madara wondered how the hell he had gotten this good in that short of a time, or it might just be bias, but he wasn't able to keep much of a coherent thought in his head when white hot pleasure shot through him. How could a kiss feel that good?

What felt like an eternity later, Tobirama finally pulled back.

(There was no question of who had been in charge of the second kiss, just like there were no questions in the first one.)

They both stood there, panting, faces flushed and bruised lips in full view. Tobirama caught his breath first, and what he used it for made Madara scowl (pout) because it was supposed to be him saying those words, not the Senju.

"The mighty Uchiha Madara, all flushed and pretty like this. Who would have thought?"

He supposed he should be glad he didn't add something like 'submissive' or 'docile'.

(Madara would have rained down hell if he had.)

In his brief moment of minor distraction and grumbling under his just regained breath, a hand had gently, but firmly, placed itself on his chin and forced it upwards. Tobirama watched him with a blank expression, Madara returning a slightly defensive confused one.

One slender finger lightly pressed against his lower lip, dragging it down slightly. There was a sort of weird awe within Tobirama's eyes that did weird things to him, and what ensued next would be a moment forever imprinted within his mind.

A breathy sigh, a spoken fact, as if it was an obvious point. A firm belief. A careful awe.

"Beautiful."

That one single word did more things to Madara than the kiss could ever dream of.

(Despite a trashed office and a broken arm, Tobirama had stayed suspiciously cheerful for the next two weeks.)