A/N: I have no idea if this is good or not but it's a Christmas fic so yay? It's unbeta'd. I haven't even read it. As a matter of fact, I just got the idea for the damn thing six hours ago.

THIS IS MADASASU NOT MADAIZU AND THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO SMUT SO IF THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE HERE FOR GO AWAY!

Also – Big warning: This is the fluffiest piece of fluff that I've ever written in my life and I have no idea why. Seriously, it's gross. There's like no conflict at all. It's just happy stupid fluffiness from beginning to end, but my Christmas fics are usually all dark and depressing and mildly-non-con-ish so I decided I needed a break from all that sadness and angst and wrote this as a cute little Holiday one-shot!

Enjoy!

"Did you maybe wanna talk about it?"

Madara looked up from his perfectly adequate and not-at-all nearly overflowing glass of scotch and scowled. "Absolutely not."

His brother sighed, and collapsed dramatically into a plush green wing-back next to the fireplace. He gazed at the almost red coloring of the mahogany coffee table in front of him, and then at the couch across from him, which had identical upholstery to the chair. "Are you actually so rich that you've got Christmas furniture?" He asked, glancing at a red and green ottoman and blue-white curtains that glistened with tiny glittery snowflakes.

"I like to re-do the house every six weeks or so. With only me living here it's not very homey, might as well give it some variety. I figured I'd be a bit festive this time."

"It's actually quite horrible and scary…" Izuna murmured, eyes darting to a large painting of Saint Nicholas that was atop the mantle. "Besides, I thought your usual holiday vocabulary consisted mainly of the words 'bah' and 'humbug' or even the occasional 'go fuck yo-"

"Remind me again why it is that you're here?"

Izuna sat up straighter and jutted out his chin. "To remind you that money won't love you when you're even older and sicker than you are already; but I might."

"Naturally. And how much money is it that you're asking for, in exchange for your eternal love?"

"I was hoping for around thirty-two hundred US Dollars."

Madara raised a disbelieving brow and set down his now half-empty drink. "Is that all?"

Izuna pouted slightly and widened his eyes, "Well, I will be needing it on a monthly basis…"

"Ah. There it is." The elder Uchiha answered, shaking his head in amusement. "And for how long am I to be allegedly paying you this oddly specific sum of three thousand and two hundred American Dollars?"

Izuna flipped his hair over his shoulder. "At least a year. Perhaps more depending. It's for a flat I'd like to rent in San Francisco. The lease would be for a year, and I'd handle the bills and everything, of course."

"Meaning you've already given Fugaku a speech claiming that if he'll pay your bills you'll handle the rent?"

Izuna grinned. "You do know me well, don't you?"

Madara finished off his scotch and got up for another. "How much is that total?"

"Roughly forty-thousand."

"And how much did you just round that up?"

"Not more than a full month." Izuna responded, truthfully. "And I'll never ask for another cent," He added on, with significantly less truth.

Madara wasn't happy with it, but he gave in. He and his brother had grown up with plentiful wealth, but Izuna had been disowned as an adolescent and inherited nothing when their parents died. He was constantly weaseling cash from Madara, but in truth he should have had just as much claim to the riches as his elder brother did anyway. It didn't help that Izuna also could never find work and Madara had an exquisitely paying job, and had made enough smart investments for his money to be making him even more money.

"Fine. I'll go to the bank and have that transferred to your account. Is there any possible way you could stay here for an hour without destroying my house?"

Izuna grimaced. "Perhaps if there's a room left that's not trying to suffocate me in a ball-pit of stocking stuffers."

"And you say I'm the Scrooge!" Madara snorted out, "You ignored my birthday, haven't even gotten me a card for Christmas, and on top of all that, you can't even stand to be near my Holiday Spirited décor on Christmas Day."

Izuna was unfazed by his brother's complaints. "It looks like Dasher and Prancer Gang-Banged Mrs. Clause in here."

"Don't be ridiculous. That's quite out of character for them. I'd point the finger at Cupid and Vixen." Madara joked, leading the way to one of the only two rooms in his house that he never remodeled.

"Well, Rudolph certainly wasn't involved. You know he's a goody-two-shoes."

Madara laughed, opening the door to his study, "No need to call him names," He remarked, turning on the light. "The remote for the television is next to that black recliner. Don't touch anything else."

And with that he left.

At first, Izuna really did sit down on the recliner. He almost even reached for the remote. But then his eyes landed on a small chest tucked beneath his brother's desk, as if meat to be somewhat hidden. Upon closer examination, it revealed itself to be mother of pearl, with tiny gold hinges and an old-fashioned key hole in the front. Luckily for Izuna, he happened to have on his person something that could rival the old-fashioned key hole: A bobby pin.

Thus, with a little wiggling and prodding he learned that the chest was lined with black velvet, and filled with five letters. He knew, without fail, exactly who these letters were from, and he shook his head disappointedly.

"Bastard said he had come to his senses and put an end to this insanity," He murmured to himself, frowning as he carefully withdrew the oldest post-marked of the letters from its envelope and began to read:

My Dearest Madara,

I know that you will not reply, because you feel it would be wrong to do so. Still, I can't help but think of you today of all days; because it is, as you know, my eighteenth birthday. Today is the day that if my father weren't your cousin, everything would be okay, and we could be happy. Today was supposed to be the day that you steel me away and we run off to some faraway place where no one knows and no one cares who we are. A place where each and every person we see will think only of the love in our eyes when they meet, and not have any care for the closeness of the blood in our veins.

Today was supposed to be magical.

Instead, I am sitting at my desk, waiting for you to sneak into my room when my father starts snoring, and lean over my shoulder. My neck is cold without your lips…

Your brother attended my birthday dinner and looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. He found out, didn't he, my darling? He has threatened to tell my father, and so in order to not be forced away from me in a more permanent manor, you have left in a way that appears to be by choice. But I know you didn't choose this for yourself. I know you think you're doing what's best for me.

You're not.

What we had was so brief, you could hardly call it anything. Though, I suppose some things are condemnable no matter how long they last. In three days it will be seven months since the first time I felt your lips on mine, and two months since the last. I had less than half a year with you. Still, it feels like my soul bleeds with each half of a second that you are gone.

My brother gave me your address. Yours refused. How did he come to know your secrets, and why do they torment him so when this is none of his concern?

There is nothing I would love more than to see you this summer before school starts up, but I'm sure I will not. A response to this letter would make me very happy, but I doubt I'll get that either. Just know that I love you more than anything, and I miss you like half of myself.

Deeply Yours,

Sasuke

Izuna glared down at the letter with angry eyes, shoving it brutally back where he got it with no care for whether or not Madara could tell it had been read. Of course he'd known about their sick little affair! He was hardly stupid and they were hardly subtle.

The whole thing had been a couple years ago and it still made his skin itch to think about. After all, he was Sasuke's godfather – and Madara was Itachi's. Imagine the horror if something had happened to the boys' parents! Madara would be financially responsible for all four of them, and have endless access to Sasuke! The child had no business consorting with a man three times his age – and that's without a blood relation to be factored in!

Izuna snatched the next letter out of the box.

To My Moon, My Stars, My Universe –

Happy Birthday. How does it feel? Another year older than me. Tomorrow would be our anniversary. Do you remember? You told me that I was the only person who had ever bothered to give you a gift on both days. The day of your birth, I gave you that letter box. The gorgeous one, with the black velvet inside. You said you'd never use it, because you only receive business mail that has to be shredded. I told you to keep it anyway. I can only hope that this letter is not torn to pieces like your others. Christmas Day I gave you myself.

I remember our first time like it was yesterday, though more appropriately, I suppose it was tomorrow. You were so gentle with me. So hesitant, and so afraid. I was the one giving up my innocence, and yet it seemed I was taking yours. I will always wonder how long you watched me and waited. Did your desires begin when my body first began to develop? Or was it my mind? Have I captivated you since I knew how to speak?

You have captivated me for as long as I can remember.

Itachi used to tease. He'd say I had a crush on you. He was right, you know. Did you like me too? Even then? Were you in love from the moment I entered this world, and then forced to wait seventeen and a half years before circumstance was fitting to act on it?

So close. So close to freedom. If I had just been half a year older, I'd have run away with you that night, and you wouldn't have had to run away without me. Tell me, love, would your guilt be less if my age was more? What was it about me that was too much or too little to bare?

I've started at University. Nothing extravagant. Just a two year program. I'm no Itachi, after all. It's something to make it look like I'm busy when in reality all that I do every moment of every day is try to contain the wild and passionate desire to find you. I want nothing more than to hunt you down and force you to tell me you love me and mean it the way you did when I caught your eye last Christmas morning.

But, although I know your address, I do not ever set foot near your home. I am terrified to look through your window and see you embracing someone else. Brutally frightened to see cold eyes on your warm face when you answer the door.

I've enclosed a slip of paper with the address to my dormitory at school. Keep it in your wallet, or tucked away someplace secret like our love. Come and see me instead?

No one reads my mail anymore. Not even that nosy brother of yours… Please respond this time. It would mean the world to me.

Truly Yours,

Sasuke

Izuna put the letter back less angrily this time. He supposed their love was at least something more than a weird incestuous fling. At least for Sasuke. Probably for Madara as well if he hadn't disposed of such incriminating pieces of mail. Taking a closer look at the post-mark dates on each letter he noticed a pattern. There were five of them, the first on Sasuke's birthday after Madara moved out of Konoha. The second sent two days before Madara's birthday, so that it would arrive exactly on Christmas eve. The third and fourth were the same, but for the next year. One written on Sasuke's birthday. One written in advance to arrive on Madara's. The most recent was for Sasuke's birthday of the current year. Which meant that since it was already Christmas – one had not come this year for Madara's birthday.

Curious as to why this would be, Izuna continued to snoop.

My Love,

Happy Fucking Birthday to miserable little me. You will not respond to my letters. You will not visit me at school. I have made it through the first year and have only one left. Halfway through what is supposed to be the first significant thing in my adult life. Still, the only object of any significance is my heart, snatched from my sleeve and placed within your chest. Had I known that you would never return it, I wouldn't have given it with such ease.

I want to be angry with you for ignoring me for so long. I want you to applaud me for being a good grown up and only mailing you three letters since you started to despise me. This being the third. I do not know what I have done to earn such cruelty from you. I do not know if you understand that there is nothing in the world that could ever hurt me more than your cold shoulder.

You came to Itachi's graduation. I don't blame you. He spent eight years on that degree after all. It would be rude as his godfather for you not to attend. You spoke to him but not to me. Our eyes met a single time and I knew that you loved me and feared me all at once, and that I couldn't kiss it better right then and there like I wanted to, or it would cause a scene. I excused myself to the bathroom and I wept, and you knew. When I returned to the ceremony you had abandoned me once more, and my mother was confusedly announcing that you'd left me your handkerchief.

The cloth against my damp cheeks smells like you, but is nothing compared to the calluses on your thumb that used to push my tears away. Now I'm wondering how I could ever have cried in your presence. What on this earth could I have had to be sad about with you there beside me? The tears only fall for you now. I can't even recall that there was ever anything else to endure but the loss of your presence. It wounds me anew with each waking day.

Uselessly Yours,

Sasuke

Anxious to see what was next, Izuna grabbed for the next letter without any hesitation or thought.

To The Earth Beneath My Feet That Keeps Me Standing,

I am so sorry, my love. So terribly sorry. Oh, how my heart aches and yearns for you. I should not have sent you the last letter. You are angry at me now. I never even see you at family functions anymore. I did not see you on father's birthday. Now it's time for yours, and I want nothing more than to let my face be the first thing you see as you begin a new year of your life. I want to kiss you and hold you and assure you that it will all be alright.

My beautiful, wonderful, darling. I see you in everything around me that holds grace. I inhale you with each breath and it gives me life. I imagine you in dark nights and the world is brighter. You are the blood in my veins, and the tips of my fingers. If they could only touch the tips of yours, I would begin to evaporate into nothingness, being so overwhelmed with joy.

I have never and will never stop loving you. It is a treat, in a way, that you do not respond to my letters. It means I am free to dote on you with my words in a way that I would be much too embarrassed to do in conversation.

I remembered today, for the first time, that you love me too. It made me sing with giddiness and jump up to the heavens to tell the angels that all is well. In my sadness, I had forgotten yours, and for that I must apologize. You sweet thing. I know you love me. I do not doubt it. It must take tremendous strength to ignore me anyway, and I commend you for your will power.

Oh dearest one, what service do you think you're giving me with this distance? You can't possibly be doing it just for yourself.

Do you think of me on Christmas? Do you remember the way it felt when we intertwined? The words you whispered into my ear as you took me so deeply? Or how you bought me that ridiculous scarf as a faux present after bruising my neck with your teeth? That was two years ago, and I remember it all.

If I close my eyes in the quiet moments, I can taste every inch of your body on my tongue. My touch is not yours, though. Only the two of us have ever touched me. Have you taken other lovers in this past two years? I forgive you, if you have. I cannot do the same, though. Each molecule of my being is branded with your name. Oh how my soul wishes we could make love again…

Desperately Yours,

Sasuke

Izuna grimaced, not liking how graphic that letter had been. Oh well. It was nothing truly X-Rated, at least. Oddly enough, his skin was itching less and less at the thought of Madara and Sasuke together. He wondered how it was that Madara had managed not to respond. If even he wanted them to somehow work it out after reading these letters, there was no way that Madara was emotionally stable whilst having read them and still ignored them.

But who knew? Maybe the last letter said that Sasuke hated him and would never write again, and that's why Madara hadn't received one for this year. Or maybe Izuna was just being ridiculous, and Madara had gotten a letter yesterday and just hadn't put it into the box yet – but that was unlikely. If that man was anything, he was freakishly organized.

Mentally sitting at the edge of his seat, Izuna looked at the fifth and final letter.

My Beautiful Black Winged Dove,

You are driving me insane. Your idea of 'Anonymously' sending me a dildo in response to my last letter was neither amusing nor tactful. It does not compare to you in any satisfactory way, despite the impressive amount of vibration patterns. No matter how tasteless your gift was, the sheer knowledge that you must have read my letter is what gives me the strength to get out of bed in the morning.

I have finished the two year school program. Am I a grown up to you now? Will you take me away to that faraway place full of nothing but our secrets and our love the way you promised me you would?

My bones are sore from chasing after you. My mind is insane with trying to get you back to me. I will never give up. I will never stop loving you.

You will never stop loving me. You probably keep these in that letter box I sent you. Stashed away in a secret corner of your life where I am allowed to safely exist when you need me to. How unfair is it, then, that I have no correspondence of my own to hold tight and press my nose against?

A scarf, a handkerchief, and a dildo. These are the legacies of your presence in my life. The shining souvenirs of our love. No darling little box of letters for me. Not even on my birthday.

Itachi thinks it's odd that you get him birthday gifts and don't get me anything. Our parents think it's rude but know better than to question me about it. After all, I was known throughout my childhood to be oddly protective of you. They wouldn't dare speak a word against you when I'm around to hear it.

Itachi wants to know why we 'don't like each other anymore' now. Isn't that the most ridiculous thing? The most brilliant person I've ever met thinks that I don't even like the love of my life. How dreadfully silly is that?

I have resigned myself to a fate of purchasing twenty cats and naming them all Madara until one day I'm old enough to think they're you. I'll have to ask Izuna on advice when it comes to haggling people for money so that I can afford your little namesake kittens.

He says he's looking for a place in California. I know you've given up, but with him that far away there's really nothing to stop us anymore. He's the only person that found out, isn't he? I suppose he's your brother and you want to honor his wishes. Itachi would do the same for me. Only, I'm not the kind of little brother that would ask him to cut his soul in tiny pieces that are impossible to stick back together. I suppose Izuna is exactly that kind of little brother, which is a shame, because he's quite pleasant to be around most days.

He's already gotten my father to agree to paying his bills once he finds his new flat. I expect he'll come to you for the rent. You should give it to him, for my sake. Help him go far away so that you can respond to this letter without fear of judgment.

Meanwhile, I'll be working on those cats.

Eternally Yours,

Sasuke

The last letter really made it sound like the poor boy had gone insane. Izuna was tucking it back into the box when the door to the study was flung open. As soon as Madara's eyes landed on him and saw what he was doing, the man looked frightened.

"What do you think you're doing going through my things!" He screamed, angrily, grabbing the box and snapping it shut.

Izuna didn't answer. They sat there in silence and Madara slowly stopped being angry or afraid and became almost unbearably sad.

"Please don't be upset with me for keeping them. I never replied," He said, looking at Izuna as if begging him to believe.

"Why not?" The younger Uchiha asked, ponderingly.

"Excuse me?" Madara responded, truly shocked.

"Why didn't you reply?"

Madara took a deep and thoughtful sigh, sitting down on the recliner and putting his head in his hands. "Each time I got one, I thought my fingers might bleed with the effort not to. But I know that what I feel for him … it's not natural. Besides, we were only together for a couple of months. Eventually the pain will fade and we'll both find someone else."

Izuna raised a brow. "You don't mourn a relationship for three years and then find someone else, Madara. Surely not without some kind of closure and certainly not without at least giving it a proper go first!"

"Says the man who threatened to convince Fugaku to put Sasuke in boarding school if I didn't end it!"

"You had half a mind to let him come here for the holidays, didn't you? That's why you dressed this place up to look like you actually do something for Christmas. Hell – Sasuke's probably the only reason you notice Christmas! He's definitely the reason you hate it!"

Madara groaned, truly not wanting to have this conversation. "I don't hate Christmas," He hissed out, voice tortured with the sound of someone trying to keep from crying. "I hate knowing that each year, I'm spending what should have been our anniversary without him. I hate not being able to spoil him rotten with gifts. I hate receiving letters the day before and not replying. I hate … I hate that he's given up on me."

"No letter this year," Izuna confirmed softly. "Send him one instead. Hell – stop living in the dark ages, how about you call the boy."

Madara shook his head. "It would be too cruel to insert myself into his life, if he's finally found a way to be rid of me."

"Well I'm not against it anymore if it's causing you even half as much misery as it's clearly causing him. I can't be a horrid brother and a horrid godfather. That's too horrible – even for me. I'll let you sleep on it. I'm going home. Did you put the money in my account?"

"No. Didn't you notice I was only gone for twenty minutes? The bank's closed. It's Christmas."

"Oh right," Izuna remembered. He supposed he wasn't too jolly about Santa Season either. As children Madara had always gotten his presents on Christmas Eve, and Izuna got his on Christmas. It made sense, with Madara's birthday and all, but it kind of took away the family aspect of them opening gifts together as brothers. Maybe that was also a part of why neither of them particularly cared one way or the other.

Madara walked him as far as the living room, and was nursing another scotch by the time Izuna was out of the door. For a second he was worried that he'd let his brother drive under the influence earlier, but then he noticed that Madara's driver was arguing with someone at the front gate of the house, and recalled that Madara did, indeed, have a driver.

"What's the issue?" He asked, coming up behind the elderly man and peeking past him, eyes wide when he saw who the man was arguing with.

"Private property!" The driver yelled, pointing to the sign Madara had up against trespassers.

"Please," The other person whimpered out, "If you don't let me at least ring the doorbell I'll shatter into pieces right here on the lawn and you'll be cleaning me off the pavement for days."

"How morbid," Izuna interjected, stepping between them. He took in the boy's appearance. Red puffy eyes, tired face, nervous body language. He looked horrified to have run into his godfather. "Driver, I need you to take me home. Don't worry about this young man here, I'm sure Madara won't mind him at all. Hurry up and ready the car."

Grimacing, but knowing that Izuna's orders were to be take just as seriously as Madara's, the driver obeyed.

"It's not what you think," Sasuke tried to argue when the driver walked away.

"It better be." Izuna answered, "Or else your wasting your time." With that, he got into the car, and left with the driver.

Sasuke stared down the driveway as the car disappeared, certain that he'd heard wrong, and then made a dash to the house where he knocked wildly on the door.

"If you forgot something, It's too late and I'm keeping it!" He heard Madara call out to him, even as the man's footsteps approached the entryway. Sasuke didn't call anything back to him, too afraid that the man would hear his voice and refuse to answer the door.

Just hearing Madara speak was like wrapping his wounds in tight bandages. If only he would be let inside, perhaps they might even heal.

The door opened.

Madara's eyes were on him like a stick of heated metal. It scorched his skin and melted away at all sense of what was right and wrong that he ever had. The next thing he knew, they were kissing. He didn't know or care why, only that there were lips on his that he hoped would never leave and that nothing had ever been so perfect.

Somehow he ended up naked on a very green couch and then his life was completing itself. His world collapsed down onto him in a wave of passion and fury and forgiveness and want and need and desperation and love. So much love. Love in each inhale and exhale and nip and scratch and thrust and grip. Love in each word. Love in every sound that had no true meaning.

At some point, they must have fallen onto the floor, because this is where Sasuke was when he found his mind. The lower half of their bodies were covered in a blanked covered with Christmas ornaments and they were staring silently together at a Yule log burning in the fireplace.

"I drank too much scotch and hallucinated that you're here." Madara said, closing his eyes tightly and opening them up again, flinching slightly when Sasuke didn't disappear.

"Half true," The younger man responded, leaning in again to kiss him, and sucking at Madara's scotch-tainted tongue. "Mm.. maybe just enough scotch. Not true at all then, love."

"I thought you'd given up on me…" Madara whispered into Sasuke's neck, nuzzling closely against it and inhaling the man's scent with every disbelieving breath.

"Of course not. I meant to be here yesterday instead of the letter, but I got caught in a blizzard so I'm a day late. No letter this year. I couldn't stand to write another and have you not reply so I just sent myself instead… I hope you don't mind."

Madara shook his head. He most certainly did not mind.

"I did write a reply, you know. To the very first one. I almost mailed it to you each and every time." He stood up and went upstairs, coming back down immediately with a sealed envelope that had Sasuke's former home address on it. For a moment he looked surprised that Sasuke was even still sitting there in front of his fireplace.

"May I open it?" The boy asked, somewhat shyly.

"Of course. It's yours, after all"

He carefully peeled open the envelope and read:

Sasuke –

Every part of me is broken without you. Come here to me as soon as you can. I'll hide you away forever, here in this big house with too much room for only me.

Bring nothing but yourself as you are and you will have brought everything that I need for the rest of my life, and we'll never even need to leave the house for a single thing.

My life is yours. My heart is yours. My soul is yours. My time is yours.

I am dead without you. Come to bring me to life, or come to kill me for what I've done in leaving you, but please, my little love, come. There is nothing here for me in this world but you.

Then. Now. Always.

Yours,

Madara

Sasuke looked up from the letter – more like a note. And thought of every time Madara must have almost sent it. What fools they had been! They'd wasted so much time being apart! Now there were no questions left unanswered. Everything was explained. Well … almost everything.

"Why does it look like a sugar plum faerie exploded in your house?"

A/N: Oops it's over. I'd LOVE for you to review! No need to mention the probably countless typos and grammar mistakes. I wrote this in one go and haven't even read it over yet.

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates Christmas and happy day-late birthday to Madara!

Thanks and Love for Reading!

-Beloved