Well, that was unexpected

Unworthy

     Madara had to be kidding.
    It was impossible to be in love with Tobirama.  Not when he was so pale, and emotionless, and so, so pathetic.  Hashirama had been telling him for years that he wouldn't find love, and Tobirama believed him.  People that looked like him weren't really anyone's type.  He was so pale, and his hair was white.  And who just had red eyes.  It would've been different had they been a kekkei genkai (like Madara's sharingan, so pretty), but those red eyes had been the bane of his existence since childhood.  As children they had given Itama nightmares, and the other children of the clan had teased him for them.  Everything about Tobirama was so ugly.  Just like Hashi had always told him.  He was ugly, he didn't show emotions well.  He couldn't talk to other people.  He wasn't normal.  The Uchiha had to have been screwing with him.  In a few moments, he would snicker and Tobirama would be left heartbroken like usual.  He was sure of it.
     Then why was Madara looking at him like he hung the stars?
     It didn't make sense.  No one had looked at him like that in his life.  That look was what you gave to a lover, and he sure as hell wasn't worthy of it.  Not when he was so...
     "Tobirama?"
Madara's hands were squeezing his own tightly, and that look was slowly morphing into one that resembled how Hashirama looked at their clan after battles: filled to the brim with concern. He had never gotten that look either. And if he had, it had been long enough that he could no longer remember how it felt. This was all just a weird dream. It had to be. But minutes passed and Madara still wasn't laughing. He was still giving him that look, and Tobirama was getting more and more confused.
A hand caressed the side of his face and Tobirama closed his eyes (he hadn't even felt Madara release his hand what?). He felt his face heat up when Madara brought his right hand to the other cheek and pressed their foreheads together. Tobirama wouldn't dare look and risk meeting eyes. It would have been too embarrassing and he wouldn't have been able to ignore the pounding of his heart anymore. He was so confused. Why did Madara want him, of all people? Hashirama would have been a better choice, and it had been clear for a long time that his brother had been longing after Madara as well. Just being this close to the man made Tobirama feel as though he was betraying his brother. That didn't mean he was going to pull away though. No, he had waited too many years for this to pull away now. He would savor this moment for as long as it took Madara to realize he didn't really want Tobirama, that Hashirama was the one he truly loved. And when they married, Tobirama would pull up that peace treaty he'd drawn up (he had hoped Hashi would forgive him a bit if he helped toward the peace, he would be useful).
"Tobirama, will you please talk to me?"
His head was pounding almost as hard as his heart and his eyes squeezed even tighter closed. If he opened his eyes, he would end this dream and he'd never know what it was like to be wanted again.
Tobirama's feelings were unruly, so much so that he couldn't figure out what exactly he should be showing. Though there was a lot going on, he could feel two overwhelming emotions controlling his heart, and it was terrifying. He felt hope. And he felt fear. He was hopeful that Madara truly wanted him, that he was loved, and that this wasn't a dream. That when he opened his eyes he would still be surrounded by silk and furs and be looking into those sparkling eyes. But the fear dominated. He was afraid that Madara was lying, but more afraid that he wasn't. Tobirama knew he wasn't worthy of the Uchiha's love. He was pathetic, only a tool. He was useful to Hashirama and he could be useful to Madara, but he wasn't worthy to be a lover. He did not know how to care for Madara as a lover should. He was created by his father to be a weapon at Hashirama's disposal. After the first son had turned out with such wild emotions and to be so impulsive, their father had pulled the reigns much tighter for the second son. If Hashirama was to be this emotional and untamable, the second son would serve to be his balance. To be cold and calculating and to never show emotion. He was raised under the pretense that emotion was weakness. He was not a child. He was not a person. He was a tool. And tools weren't meant to be loved.
But Madara was looking at him so fondly, and with such love in his eyes. It was hard to decide whether he should deny the love for Hashirama's sake (mostly because he didn't deserve it, god he wished he did) or to accept and risk having his heart broken later on. Those eyes were beautiful and tempting him to say yes. It was taking all he could to hold himself back.
"Madara," he whispered shakily. "I don't believe that this is right. Loving me can't be right. I can't be right for you. I couldn't accept this, knowing that I don't deserve it. Not when I know you should love Hashirama and when you've never before noticed me. I can't accept a confession so sudden, nor one that would betray the feelings my brother has for you and you surely must hold for him as well. You said it yourself, I am nothing like Hashirama. I am not strong, nor am I the leader that this peace- your peace- will need. I couldn't talk to the people and put to rest their uneasiness the way either of you could. People follow the both of you, but they simply fear and avoid me. I am the white demon, the monster which my father created and my brother is forced to harbor. I could not allow my love for you to cloud my judgement when I know that this would only serve to break my heart and bring forward an unstable peace that would only push us back to the brink of war. You must choose Hashi. That's what you must truly want in your heart of hearts. I have been scorned my entire life (destined to bring you only shame, my love), created to be a tool at the Senjus' disposal by my father, unable to communicate properly because of how I was raised. One who can't speak can hardly become a beacon for peace."
He was crying by the time he had finished speaking. He felt it more in the shaking of his chest than anything. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and he felt himself clutching at his chest as if it would somehow relieve him. There was a sob in the distance and Tobirama hardly even realized it must have come from him.
Madara pulled his love in tight against his chest, allowing the man to clutch at his silk night shirt and soak it with his tears. By the look in Tobirama's eyes, he could tell the man was no longer with him mentally and knew he couldn't reach him with simple words. So he instead pushed his back against the bed's headboard and pulled Tobirama to rest between his legs, stroking his hair and holding tightly around his waist. And if some part of him was secretly enjoying the contact there was no one to call him on it.
They sat there for a long time, with Madara's strong fingers carding through white hair and pressing soft kisses against pale cheeks and forehead. Tobirama had only vaguely registered the touches at first, but as his tears calmed and he was able to breathe more steadily, he realized that he was being held securely in Madara's arms and was calmed by his steady heartbeat. Something akin to a smile graced his lips and he pressed a small kiss to the exposed skin of Madara's collar. A laugh forced its way from his lips when that kiss was rewarded with a high pitched whine (that was quickly cut off and poorly covered with a cough afterward). This was the first time he could remember being held like this, and he had never realized how nice it could be. He had longed for Madara's touch like this for so long and finally getting it like this was weakening his resolve. Madara hadn't pulled away when he cried. He hadn't laughed, nor abandoned him, nor mocked him for weakness (he hadn't beaten him for showing emotion as father had done). Madara had held him until the tears subsided, and didn't seem to be willing to let go any time soon. Tobirama was fine with that.
"Give me a reason to stay." His voice no longer shook, and he let himself abandon his fear. "Give me a reason to stay, so that I can reassure myself that this is right. That the love I've buried for so many years is not destined to break, and that I'm not betraying all that my family has built. That this will not end badly. Please."
Madara's smile was brilliant as he brought his hands up to cup the sides of Tobirama's face. With foreheads pressed together and a light kiss to Tobirama's lips, it seemed he already knew exactly what the man needed to hear.
"You deserve to be loved."