"Those who set sail know that things will not be the same as at home. Explorers are prepared. But for us, who travel along the blood vessels, who come to the cities of the interior by chance, there is no preparation…Somewhere between God and the Devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse." The Passion, Jeanette Winterson

Madara took a swig of the beer in his hand, watching the doorway as Hashirama came back from the front door with pizza in hand. He smirked as the Senju placed the hot food on the counter, smiling softly at the Uchiha. "So this is your idea of a date, is it?"

"Oh what were you expecting?" Hashirama fired back. "Knowing you as well as I do, you'd be too weirded out if we went out for dinner and a movie. I felt like you'd be far more comfortable if we stayed in, and lo, the lord said let the other Senjus go on a business trip."

"Why didn't you go? Isn't that suspicious?" Madara chugged the remainder of his beer, setting the bottle by the sink.

Hashirama pulled out a slice, blowing on it before taking a bite. "No, not really. I'm in high school so taking a week off would put me seriously behind. My father understands that." Hashirama finished off the slice before speaking up again. "It's a lot different than Tobirama; he could probably miss a month and still be able to pass."

Madara hopped off the counter, grabbing another beer for himself from the refrigerator. Hashirama cleared his throat, making a groping motion with his hand. Madara rolled his eyes, reaching for a second bottle.

Instead of taking the bottle opener from the counter, Madara popped the top off his beer with the other bottle. He handed Hashirama the closed beer, smirking to himself. Hashirama laughed softly. "You really know how to treat your man, Madara."

The Uchiha smirked fully this time, looking the Senju straight in the face. Arrogance and superiority written across his countenance. "You wouldn't like me if I was nice."

Hashirama smiled again, opening his beer against the counter. "I think you're plenty nice. Even when you call me stupid, I know it comes from the heart."

Madara rolled his eyes. "Don't take insults as compliments, dumb ass."

"See, there it is. Your true feelings." Hashirama grabbed Madara's hand, kissing each knuckle.

Madara took a large gulp on his beer before putting it on the counter, slightly damp fingers brushed against Hashirama's face. He leaned into the touch, breath hot against Madara's palm. He looked into the ruddy depths of the Uchiha's eyes and moved closer. Gently, fingers shaking as he did so, Hashirama leaned into the Uchiha's space, bringing their lips together. "You're actually going to kiss me with beer and pizza breath, aren't you?" Hashirama paused, being shoved slightly by Madara. The Uchiha smirked in his face, sparkling with his own haughtiness.

"That was the plan, yes." Hashirama muttered, looking down at the rosy, pinkness of Madara's smooth lips.

The Uchiha chuckled. "What makes you think I wanna kiss you?"

"Well, there is that whole bet we made where you promised me something special of yours. So I mean, kissing is a good lead up to that." Madara glared at the Senju, eyes burning with unspoken distaste. Hashirama smirked at him, feeling victorious. "Besides, weren't you the one who complained not to ask?"

"You're honestly serious about that, aren't you? Where is your sense of romance?" Madara complained, pinching the hand on his shoulder.

"B-but, Madara! You're so bad about keeping your promises!" Hashirama surrounded himself with a depressed aura and the Uchiha looked away from the scene, feeling a faint blush coming over his face. He walked up to the Senju, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and placing his mouth against Hashirama's. The Senju's eyes widened considerably before he grabbed the back of Madara's neck, not allowing him to pull back. Madara gently flattened his palm against the Senju's chest, moving it up slowly so that he could wrap his fingers around the back of Hashirama's neck, tangling his fingers in the long, soft hair he found there. Hashirama pushed them back, making Madara back connect to the counter. Hashirama, Madara noticed, was being considerably more aggressive than he planned. Trying to keep the Senju in check, Madara bit down teasingly on Hashirama's lip, pulling it and rolling it between his teeth. This only encouraged the Senju more as he grabbed underneath Madara's legs, hoisting him up onto the counter. He pushed himself between Madara's now open legs, nearly forcing the Uchiha to lay down on the counter while Hashirama continued to move against him.

"Hashi-" Hashirama dipped his tongue into the Uchiha's open mouth, deepening their kiss considerably. Madara felt his heart thumping in his ears, his body trembling from his lack of control as he continued to kiss Hashirama. It wasn't as though he wasn't feeling good, quite the opposite, but he was feeling the coil of nervousness about to snap in his gut. Madara knew that he had promised Hashirama that they would have sex, but the thought of actually doing the deed made his entire body shiver. And not in the good way.

"Madara." The Uchiha shuddered against the Senju, the sound of Hashirama's voice desperate and pleading, saying his name like it was a prayer. "Madara." Giving Madara a small reprieve before sinking back into him, Hashirama began to tentatively touch the Uchiha beneath him. His tongue invading and tasting the spicy, yet sweet tang of Madara's mouth and lips. Just the feeling of Madara's jeans on his sweating palms made his heart beat jump considerably. Madara's hand tightened around the small hairs at the back of Hashirama's neck, pulling invariably. Hashirama felt a surge of pleasurable electricity down his back every single time. The heat pooled heavily in his groin and he thrusted forward, rubbing right into Madara. The Uchiha jolted, his moans swallowed up by Hashirama's greedy mouth.

"Hashirama," The Senju didn't stop, continuing to thrust forwards, grinding into Madara. The Uchiha groaned both in frustration and bliss. Attaching his mouth to Madara's neck and breathing in that luscious scent, Hashirama kissed and sucked, feeling swept away by his own needs and passion. Hashirama moaned, tickling the skin of the Uchiha's neck with the softness of breath and teasing his ears with the sounds of Hashirama's pleasure. "Hashirama, wait. Stop."

The forceful nature of Madara's tone made the Senju snap out of the hole in his mind, bringing him back into the moment. He looked up at the flushed cheeks and the bead of sweat trickling down the Uchiha's face. He was mesmerized by the disheveled look of Madara, his hands tightening on Madara's hips and noticing something for the first time. He looked to the side, eyes flashing between the Uchiha's face which was getting more and more annoyed with every second, and the spilled beer he was currently making Madara sit in. Sheepishly, the goofiest grin spread across Hashirama's face. "Um, I'm sorry?"

Grabbing onto the Senju's cheek and pinching as hard as he could, Madara's glared the thoughtless teen down, unable to hold back his annoyance. It was just getting good and Hashirama's clumsiness completely ruined the moment. "It's because you're too forceful. You broke the mood, Hashi, you idiot."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Madara let go of the Senju's face, looking away from him, another dark blush staining his cheeks.

"Can I borrow something?"
-

Hashirama felt as though God was testing him as he watched Madara throw the beer soaked clothes into his washing machine. He was currently wearing the only thing of Hashirama's that actually fit him and it was something old, from nearly a year ago, before he hit his smaller growth spurt. It was a little tight but apparently Madara preferred it to the slew of baggy clothes Hashirama had offered. It hugged Madara in all the right places, and that made the Senju watch with anticipatory hunger. The way his ass curved and how his lean back displayed a playground of tight, yet lithe muscle. Hashirama felt the heat of their earlier encounter again.

"You want to make me the bottom, don't you?" Hashirama snapped out of his sight-seeing trip to look at the face of the Uchiha who was closing the washer top, leaning his back against it.

"Well, one of us has to do it."

"But why does it have to be me?"

Feeling his mind stopping, Hashirama blurted out. "Because I'm taller than you."

Madara and Hashirama stood in silence for a few seconds before the Uchiha closed the distance between them, looking up into Hashirama's face. "WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THAT?" Madara's knotted his fists in the Senju's shirt, pulling on it. "I'm not that short!"

"Madara, your head is right under my nose, and I'm not even pushing six foot yet."

The Uchiha took a step back, folding his arms across his chest and not looking the Senju in the face. "Fine, but the next time, I get to be on top."

"Really?" Hashirama nearly high-fived himself.

"Yes, really. Don't think I won't forget about this, Hashirama."

Hashirama embraced Madara tightly, squeezing the air from his lungs. The Uchiha frowned, setting his hands on the Senju's shoulders. Why Madara had agreed to do any of this was beyond him. He knew getting involved with Hashirama would be problematic and this was the perfect example; he agreed to take the less dominant role in their relationship. Madara's finger's clenched in Hashirama's shirt. The Senju felt the fingers digging into his shoulders through thin fabric. "Are you scared?"

Madara huffed. "Wouldn't you be a little nervous?"

Hashirama pulled away from Madara, grabbing the Uchiha's hand and putting it over the Senju's chest. Madara's eyes widened, jerking with the realization. Hashirama's pulse was beating so frantically; Madara's fingers shook, looking up into the Senju's calm, yet still flushed face. "Whenever I'm with you, I'm always nervous because I've been waiting to be this close to you." Hashirama wrapped his fingers around Madara's hands. "I'm ready to spend a lifetime hiding in the shadows with you, from the prying eyes on the world, just so I can feel the press of your lips against mine."

Sputtering, Madara tried to pull back; Hashirama held fast. "You say the dumbest shit I've ever heard."

Hashirama laughed. "Then why are you blushing like a maiden?"

"UCHIHAS DON'T BLUSH!"

Hashirama tried to wrap his arms around Madara, but the Uchiha violently started to struggle, shoving the Senju's face as far away from him as possible. Both of them stopped suddenly, tensing. Hashirama wrapped his arms protectively around Madara, looking towards the source of the noise. He could feel himself starting to sweat.

"What was that?" Madara asked, being thoroughly smashed into the Senju's chest.

"I don't know."

"Did your parents just come back?"

"No, they would have called first."

Madara disentangled himself from the Senju, looking around the corner of the laundry room and into the hallway. The house startlingly quiet, offering no clues as to the source of the noise. "Let's go check it out."

"Hold on…" Hashirama reached up into the powdered detergent on the top shelf and pulled a gun from it. He pulled it out of the bag, screwing the silencer into place, and slipped it into the back of his jeans. "Okay, now we can go."

Hashirama, much to Madara's annoyance, actually pulled him back so that he had to stand behind the Senju. Madara rolled his eyes; he was far more than capable than taking care of himself.

After a sweep on the downstairs and basement, Hashirama paused in the kitchen, grabbing onto his slightly warm beer. "Maybe it was just our imaginations."

The Uchiha blinked. "Hn, what about the upstairs?"

"Can't we just pretend nothing happened?" Hashirama complained. This was definitely killing the evening he had planned out for them. This was supposed to be movie and make-out time.

"Upstairs, Senju." Madara shoved Hashirama back through the archway, nearly pushing him onto the stairs. "Come on, you're the one with the gun, right? And I can't go first because I'm such a delicate flower." Hashirama rolled his eyes, his feet barely making noise as he went up, Madara following behind him.

Both of them paused, Hashirama turning his head towards his father's office, his blood turning cold as he rushed to the door, gun already in hand. He kicked it open, spying a man sifting through his father's files. Madara peered around the Senju's shoulder, looking at the scattered glass on the floor and the files strewn about. The man paused; he was wearing all black, even going for the very cliché black ski mask. "Freeze, asshole." Before Hashirama could even fire a bullet, the man threw himself backwards out the window. The two of them rushed towards him, watching as he grabbed at the branches of a tree, catching himself and landing softly on the ground. He made a break for the fence, Hashirama's gun aimed right on him. The Senju fired two shots, one barely missing his head and the other grazing his shoulder as he ducked into a roll. Madara was about to jump out the window and follow after him on foot when Hashirama pushed him back, holding him in place with one arm. "Don't. It would be bad if any of my other relatives saw that you were running around in the neighborhood."

"I guess we're lucky your gun had a silencer." Madara muttered, turning back to the mess in the room. He sighed. "What did he take?" The Senju turned back towards the mess of files, flipping the lights on.

"I don't know. I think we may have caught him before he actually managed to find what he was looking for." Hashirama looked at the files on the desk, one in particular catching his eye. "Madara." The Uchiha perked up, heading towards the Senju. He handed him a stack of papers and the Uchiha's eyes widened.

"Kaguya." Both of them turned towards the open drawers of the filing cabinets, getting in close enough to bend over and look through the files. "Hashi, tell me your father's filing system. What do the colors mean?"

"Well, black is kind of obvious, it's 'dead', blue is 'neutralized and friendly', green is 'neutralized but hostile', and red is well, usually 'Uchiha'. Your file is red."

Madara rolled his eyes. "Obviously." The Uchiha paused for a moment, looking back at Kaguya's file. Hers was green, which didn't surprise Madara much. She may have been in charge of the neutral zone but that didn't mean she needed to be friendly. He flipped to the first page, tapping the paper triumphantly. "Hashirama look for any files marked Otsutsuki…"

"Can you use it in a sentence?"

"I will Otsutsuki the shit out of you if you don't do as I say."

Hashirama laughed, crippled by the loud, uncontainable fit that had taken over it. "I didn't actually think you would do it." Madara kicked the Senju in the side, trying to make him get back on task.

"I'm serious, Hashirama. Whoever that was, used Kaguya's file for a reason."

"You're always so serious."

Madara rolled his eyes. "That reminds me, we never did get to talk about Kaguya…"

Hashirama paused, fingers toying with the name cards on the cabinet he was currently looking through. He turned towards Madara. He had his arms across his chest, face and eyes locked into the Uchiha stoicism. "Did your father say anything?"

"No. But it's not like I could have told him the full truth either. There would have been immediate repercussions if I told him she approached us. And I made Izuna promise he wouldn't say anything."

"What kind of repercussions are we talking about here?"

Madara took a deep breath out his nose, eyes cast away from Hashirama. "Going to public school isn't exactly something Uchihas do…And my father was very clear that at the first sign of trouble, whether it was in school or not, he would stop allowing me to go outside the Uchiha territory."

Hashirama's hand shook at the thought, eyes widening. "Are you serious? But shit happens in the Uchiha district all the time."

"Don't you think I know that?" Madara sighed, rubbing the space between his brows. "I honestly didn't think he would allow this for so long…He's been surprisingly generous considering he could have pulled me out at any time. Any way you look at it, the Uchihas and Senjus are still feuding. Any member of your family could kill me at school if they wanted to."

The Senju frowned, closing the distance between them. He cupped Madara's face gently in his hand, staring straight into the Uchiha's red eyes, unafraid of the malice they tended to keep. "I would never let you die, Madara. Do you understand me? If it came down to family loyalty or you, I would give my life to protect you."

"But would you kill someone in your family for me, huh, Hashirama?" Hashirama's eyes widened, his mouth opening to say something but no words came out. Madara felt a pain sink through his chest and looked away. "You can't make bold claims like that and not consider what protecting me might mean. Family loyalty is something we both have to live by because, whether or not we want to face it, they are still our families. If a situation arouse where we had to make the ultimate decision, I think we both know what kind of call we'd have to make. Wanting me and having me with you is ultimately going to lead to problems for both of us."

"I love you."

"Hn? What was that?"

"You heard me. I'm completely in love with you, Madara."

Madara turned his face away, feeling his eyes widen so much that they were about to drop out of his head. Hashirama was always like this. He wore his heart directly on his sleeve, never really hiding his emotions unless he had to. The Uchiha's heart bounced against his chest, heavy and burdened. It wasn't like Madara didn't know, but hearing spoken by the person was a completely different matter than speculation.

"I know you probably won't say it back to me, and I accept that, but I know you feel the same, regardless of whether or not you say so."

"You sure are confident about that."

Hashirama smirked, bringing his hands to encircle Madara's neck, capturing him in a gentle embrace. "You would have never agreed to give me everything that is you otherwise."

Madara, knowing he was about to get swept away in the moment, pushed Hashirama back, still refusing to look into the Senju's eyes. He didn't want to know what look they held. It would be something beautiful, something he didn't deserve. So Madara kept himself turned away. "We still need to find what the burglar was trying to take."

The Senju sighed, shaking his head. He turned away from Madara, starting to look through the files again. "You can't hide from your feelings forever Madara. I know it's like totally so lame for Uchiha to have emotions or whatever, but what we have is real."

"The lamest thing in this room is actually your outfit, not my feelings." Madara said, pulling open one of the drawers. Hashirama gasped with the surprise of Madara's sharp tongue, feeling the depression slowly soaking into him. Why was Madara such an asshole? And why did he have to fall in love with such an asshole?

"Hey, look at this." Hashirama, recovering from the burn Madara gave him, turned towards the files the Uchiha had open. "Both these guys have the same last name as Kaguya…Hagoromo and Hamura. Don't they look really familiar?"

Hashirama frowned. "Weren't they with her that day?"

"In the restaurant?"

"No, at the pier."

"I honestly don't remember that well. I was trying not to get stabbed in the neck."

The Senju grabbed the files from Madara, folding them so he could look at them both at the same time. "They're both black files, but they have different colored stickers inside. One black and the other red. But why would we need to know that if they file is already black?" Hashirama bit his lip. "I've never seen this before…Father generally doesn't put anything on the inside after they've already died."

"Red is Uchiha, right? So is that an indicator of Uchiha assassination?"

Hashirama nursed his lip, opening up each filing cabinet and searching through all the black marked files. Each other had one thing in common, there were no additional marks inside. And even after Hashirama had searched through them all, he turned to Madara, face a little more pale than normal. "Those deaths were something different, something special."

Madara took Hagoromo's and Hamura's files back from Hashirama, scanning through the pages of information in the first file. He paused, eyes widening. He checked the second one, heart jumping up in tempo. "They were killed on the same day…A week before Kaguya showed up at the restaurant." The Senju felt his mouth go dry, an unknown feeling jumping up in his stomach and threatening to let loose from his throat.

"Madara, what does that mean?"

The Uchiha looked at the shattered window; the breeze from the night air chilling him as it seeped into the room. "Something bad, I think."
-

Madara nursed his lips, thinking about everything that happened when he spent the evening with Hashirama. How it had turned from an uncomplicated event into something that spiraled out of control, he was unsure. Something about those files and those deaths made no sense. So, Kaguya's sons had been murdered, undoubtedly by people Madara and Hashirama both knew, on the same day. But what did it mean? What was going on? Was this the reason she was trying to approach them? Was that man working for Kaguya? And if not, who was he working for?

The Uchiha closed his eyes as he carded his hands through his hair, frowning. He heard the stopping of feet, looking up. Hashirama pulled out Mito's chair. She smoothed her bubble hem dress, which Madara noticed, had a nice blue and pink floral pattern on it. It was strapless, showing off her bosom and gracefully long neck. She brushed her long red hair out of her face, weaving her hand in with Hashirama's. The Uchiha's eyebrow twitched. Madara and Mito exchanged their customary glare as the Senju massaged his temple. "So, come up with anything?"

"No…" Madara sighed and Mito looked at the two of them, eye demanding answers to unspoken questions. Not like they could have given her much of an explanation anyway.

"Is there anything I should be concerned about?" Hashirama and Madara were silent in contemplation. There was plenty going on; Madara had experienced it all firsthand that night, but nothing that Mito needed to know about. Though, Madara wouldn't tell Mito even if her life was at stake. He didn't like giving handouts to those who were completely oblivious. "Alright, obviously there's something going on. Tell me, I'm not an idiot."

Madara and Hashirama locked their gaze, still saying nothing. Madara spoke first, "Don't worry about it. It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Oh and that's supposed to make me feel better? In case you've forgotten, Madara, I'm supposed to take control of the Uzumaki family when Hashirama and I get married. I'm not some brainless child."

"I don't see what that has to do with this." Madara replied, eyes narrowing. "Just because you're an inheritor, doesn't mean shit, honestly."

"You know, Madara, a truce between the three families will never exist if you continue to be such a dick." Mito fired back, her brow creasing with the signature Uzumaki rage. "Keeping me out of this…whatever it is, is going to have serious ramifications. I can assure you of that much."

"Oh? And why is that, exactly? What will the Uzumaki family do if they find out Hashirama and I, not even the current heads of our families, are keeping secrets from you, who is also not the respective head?"

Mito stood up suddenly, Madara also rising for the occasion. The Uzumaki pulled her arm back, fully intent on striking the Uchiha. But Madara was ready, he reached behind him into his pocket, grabbing the only knife he brought onto the school grounds. If he was going to get kicked out of school, he might as well make it count. But before either of them could do a single thing, Hashirama stepped in, grabbing both of them by the arm and pushing them from the table. "Honestly, both of you are too hot-tempered for your own good." The Senju looked sternly at the two of them before Madara composed himself, sitting back down, face impassively set. Mito pushed a strand of loose hair from her face, glaring at the Uchiha before settling back down into her chair. "Madara, maybe we should let Mito in on this?"

The Uchiha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You think so, do you?" They stared at each other heatedly, before Madara rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Hashirama sighed, shaking his head. "So, Mito, what exactly do you know about a woman named 'Kaguya'?"

The red haired woman's eyes widened, turning so that she could look Hashirama in the face. "Why?"

"I thought you wanted to know what was going on…?" Madara questioned, smiling wryly at the woman sitting across from him.

Mito frowned. "Well, from what I've been hearing lately from my mother, I know she may not be a boss anymore."

Madara felt a surge of ice down his back as he focused his full attention on the Uzumaki woman. "What?"

"Why am I unsurprised that you seem to know none of this?" She leaned her face on her hand, shaking her head. "I was wondering why the two of you weren't at the meeting."

"Meeting? When was this?" Hashirama demanded, pouting slightly. "Why did no one tell me about this?"

"Better question, why didn't I know about this?" Madara complained. "You're an idiot so it wouldn't surprise me if they're going to replace you with your far more hostile brother."

"Hear, hear." Mito said, smirking as Hashirama got his depressed aura. "It happened about two weeks ago; both Tajima and Butsuma were there, and you know, their entourage." She waved her hand dismissively, eye flicking towards Madara. "Kaguya was there as well; apparently we are having a dispute about the neutral zone."

"So, we're getting rid of it, right?" Madara asked, not really needing an answer to confirm his suspicions.

"According to Tajima and Butsuma, we are." Mito shrugged. "The Uzumaki family doesn't particularly care about this matter. Our territory would not expand from a seizure of Kaguya's assets and our business would still remain the same; which reminds me, Madara, do you need me to arrange something so you can finally get a woman?"

Madara frowned, not bothering to hide his disgust. "No thanks, I have a fiancée."

"I'll believe that when I see it." Hashirama laughed at Mito's comment, earning himself the full, focused glare of the Uchiha family. "Anyway, Tajima and Butsuma were bullying her into agreeing. They said if she didn't sign an official agreement within a month, they would be starting a war."

Madara's eyes narrowed. "What does this even prove? We all know the neutral zone isn't exactly neutral, but there's no real reason for the Uchiha to want that land. I always assumed there was someone in control of it so the Senju and Uchiha wars wouldn't affect the entire city."

Mito shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea what your fathers are thinking. Even after the meeting, my mother was confused about the motivation. The only thing I could think of is that they want someone else in the neutral zone, get Kaguya off the map."

"She must know something our fathers don't want getting out." Hashirama announced, nodding his head. "Why else would our fathers be teaming up for this? They hate each other."

"Maybe they're secretly lovers."

"No way." Madara and Hashirama said in unison. They looked at the Uzumaki woman strangely, both gaining an edge of disgust on their faces. She laughed lightly.

"Either way, you two should figure out what exactly they're not telling anyone."

"Was my brother at this meeting?" Madara asked. "You know what Izuna looks like, right?"

"Yeah, I do. But no, he wasn't there. Neither was Tobirama. Like I said, I thought it was weird no inheritors were there. I thought you guys and your siblings would be there for sure. It was have definitely been less boring if you had been there Madara; I love glaring at you from across the room."

"Let's skip all the playing around bullshit and just have an affair, Mito." Madara blew a kiss to the woman, making the Uzumaki smirk. "Take the clans by storm with a different alliance."

"Together you and I would be unstoppable." She smiled gently, grabbing Madara's hand from the table and cradling it in her own.

"You're both so cute when you're being nice to each other." Hashirama noticed then and they were squeezing each other's hands as hard as they could, both refusing to show any pain. They both slowly turned their heads towards Hashirama, showing equal looks of disdain.

"How dare you think I'm cute, Hashirama, you idiot."

"Don't even begin to believe I'd ever be nice to the Uchiha."

The Senju sputtered at the dirty looks being cast his way. "The two of you are the worst."

"You never were one for taste, Hashirama." Madara said, turning his chin up. "Even right now, your outfit is totally lame and ugly."

"Madara's right about that." Mito nodded her head. "It's a good thing you lost that bet to Madara about your hair otherwise I'd be forced to marry a man with a bowl-cut. How disgusting."

"I was just a kid, how was I supposed to know it looked so stupid?!"

"You had to look yourself in the mirror." Madara quipped, smirking. Hashirama distractedly looked at the Uchiha's pink lips as he spoke. Even though venomous and angry words kept flowing from his petal soft mouth, the Senju still wanted to kiss him. "I mean, argyle? Seriously? Gag me, it's more obnoxious than your personality."

Mito couldn't stifle her laugh as Hashirama gained his depressed posture, pouting at them. "Madara, go easy on him. He may cry."

"Mito, you're stylish, can't you do something?"

"Oh and what about you, Madara? He listens to you."

"Obviously not because he's wearing that ugly vest."

"You guys are seriously mean!"

"Anyway, before we get too far off track." Mito began, twirling a strand of hair on her fingers. "Why did you wanna know about Kaguya anyway? Have you even met her before? Aside from that meeting, I'd only heard rumors about her." Hashirama and Madara looked at each other again, eyes locking in an intense gaze. "You two are seriously annoying with that Vulcan mind shit you do."

"We've met her twice." Madara said, with a shrug. "Both times outside of a meeting."

"But that's not really what's important." Hashirama countered. "My house got broken into last weekend."

"Yeah, I heard about that. Was anything stolen?"

Hashirama shook his head. "No, whatever they were looking for, we didn't give them time to find."

"'We'? You were there, Madara? And what were you doing in the Senju compound?" Mito's eyes narrow on the Uchiha, who smirks harshly, not concealing his mirth.

"Oh you know, gaining counter-intelligence, making maps of the house, getting beer spilled on me and fighting off a home-invader. The usual."

Mito silently glared at the Uchiha, knowing Madara wasn't speaking full truths. Madara wasn't an idiot. And neither was she. The reason why Mito insisted on hanging around them, even when she had friends who would have been better company, was that she felt threatened by Madara. The Uchiha knew that if she could, she would drive the deepest, heaviest wedge between Hashirama and himself, but right now she didn't know how to. She was tolerating him, at best.

"Anyway," Hashirama's eyebrow twitched, avoiding the hidden-in-plain-sight accusation. "The thief broke into my father's office. He was rummaging around in his filing cabinets, looking for something about Kaguya's family."

"How do you know that?" Mito asked, skeptically eyeing the Senju next to her.

"Because Kaguya's file was on his desk. We think he was trying to look for the files on her sons." Hashirama shrugged. "I also think this because Madara didn't find their files in the 'O' section. They were in a completely different cabinet. And that means my dad was probably trying to hide them."

Mito folded her hands together, face set indifferently but she was biting her lip. "This is something bad, isn't it? There's something going on."

"They have to be hiding something from Hashirama and myself." Madara muttered, fingers tensing on the table. "But why, I think, is the most pressing question…."

"You said you've met Kaguya before, right? Has she said anything weird to you, like threatening or otherwise?"

Madara chewed his lip, unsure if they should tell Mito about the four men they had to kill. They had been sent by Kaguya, which was without a single doubt. They actually hadn't been able to talk about it much because of Mito, but Madara didn't know if bringing it up now would be such a good idea. Even though Mito was being calm about this current issue, it didn't mean she wouldn't make her mother call a meeting later on about their safety. It would be messy. Madara enjoyed his freedom. "If I tell you, will you promise to keep it to yourself?" The Uchiha's eyes were hard, looking straight into the Uzumaki's face. She blinked, surprised, but nodded. Hashirama also nodded. "Kaguya sent four small timers after us. Hashirama and I are obviously fine, but afterwards, she caught up with us and pretty much said she did it to see us in action."

Mito stiffened, hands clenched into fists on the table. "Did you tell your fathers about this?"

"I can't." Madara sighed. "If I indicated at all I was in any form of danger, my father would pull me out of school. And you'd probably never see me again."

The Uzumaki's eyes widen, a wave of emotion showing in her dark gray eyes. "I don't see how that's fair." She complained, lips set into a thin, unamused line.

Madara shrugged. "Sometimes life isn't exactly fair."

...

Madara sighed as he opened the front door, Izuna racing in before him. It was strangely quiet in the house considering the time. Madara looked into the living room and his cousins were all huddled around a table, completely tense and silent. The Uchiha rolled his eyes. Madara headed towards his room when he heard the booming of cheers and applause, meaning someone had a come from behind victory. He smiled lightly to himself. Before he could open his door, the creaking of stairs alerted him to the presence of his father, slowly coming down from his office. "Father." Madara greeted, bowing slightly.

"Madara, come upstairs." The Uchiha raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything further, depositing his bag into his room before heading up to his father's office. He could hear the patter of rain against the windows as he moved into the hallway, grabbing the knob to his father's office, wondering why he had even bothered to close it. "Close the door behind you." Madara nodded, shutting it softly. When the Uchiha turned back around, he noticed, for the first time, the bandages on his father's shoulder. His eyes widened, rushing over to him and checking to make sure they weren't bleeding. "Get off of me, boy. I've already been patched up."

"What happened? Are you alright?" Madara tried not to let the concern show on his face, not let his father see the emotions which got him slightly choked up upon seeing the wound.

Tajima scoffed. "I've had worse." He moved so that he was standing in front of the window, staring out into the blackening sky. Dark clouds swirled and raced over the sun, releasing waves of droplets to the earth. "Madara," The Uchiha tensed, noticing the clenching of his father's fists at his side. He took a step back, waiting. "What were you doing at the Senju compound?"

Madara's eyes widened drastically, voice catching in his throat. How did his father know? The Uchiha's eyes moved towards his father's shoulder again, remembering how Hashirama missed the head-shot on the thief and grazed him in the shoulder. Madara's jaw slackened. "I guess I could ask you the same question."

Tajima didn't even tense, turning around so that he could look his son in the face. His eyes were shining with unspoken anger. He scowled, Madara returning the look with the same fury. "Answer my question, boy."

"Why should I? When were you going to tell me that you and Butsuma are going after the neutral zone?"

Tajima flinched at the question. "Who told you? That Senju brat?"

"Actually, no. Mito told me." Madara took a challenging step forward. "I had to hear it from that Uzumaki bitch and not even from my own father. What the fuck are you thinking? We don't need that land."

"Mind your own business, Madara." Tajima fired back, grabbing onto his son's arm, pulling him forward. "Don't forget your place. I am your father. Not to mention, you're not my inheritor, Izuna is."

"Oh, then tell me why Izuna wasn't even there with you? In fact, neither were Butsuma's inheritors. How strange." Madara shook off his father's hand, gaining an edge on him. He backed his father up into the window sill, eye to eye with him. "You and Butsuma are planning something, aren't you? Why keep it a secret? You killed Kaguya's son, right?"

Tajima pushed Madara's chest, freeing himself from the strong gaze his son had over him. He frowned, glaring furiously at the boy who insolently stepped forward to challenge him. "So what if I did?"

"So what? SO WHAT?" Madara felt something inside of him snap, reaching out and grabbing on his father's injured shoulder, forcing the man to look him in the face. Tajima flinched at the pressure on his wound but remained relatively impassive. "She sent men after Hashirama and me! Do you know what you've started?!"

Tajima's eyes widened, grabbing Madara's wrist and twisting it so that his son was momentarily crippled by the sudden influx of pain. The Uchiha grit his teeth. "No more. No more of your free reign, Madara. You're staying here, with me, where you belong. You're never leaving this house again."

Panic blossomed across Madara's face, tightening his chest and causing acid to rise in his throat. He had said too much. "You can't keep me here." Madara said, freezing his expression in the traditional stoicism of the Uchiha. He let his eyes go cold, not bothering to hide his disdain in ruddy irises. Madara turned, heading back towards the door. Tajima reached out quickly, choking Madara by grabbing onto the back of his collared shirt. The Uchiha coughed as the fabric tightened around his throat. Before he could even think to stop himself, Madara whipped around, breaking the hold his father had on him. He grabbed Tajima's arm, twisting and straightening it. In one hand, Madara held his father's clenched fist, with his other, he pushed Tajima's arm forward, filling the room with the ear grating, sickening snap of bone. Tajima cried out and Madara snapped back into his senses. He had just broken his father's arm.

Tajima, using his non-broken arm, punched Madara as hard as he could, using his full body to swing into the strike. Madara felt his nose crunch under the pressure, instinctively wobbling backwards. Tears sprung up in his eyes, falling hotly down his cheeks. He clutched his face in his hands, blood dripping through his fingers. Madara would have two black eyes, he knew that. He almost fell to his knees, noticing how much they shook underneath him as wave after wave of powerful and painful nausea washed through him.

Madara threw open the door, running down the stairs. He refused to be trapped here. He didn't want this to happen. If he hadn't lost his temper everything would have been fine. Madara grabbed his bag and keys, rushing to the front door. His cousins were all standing around, dumb-founded. They had all heard the commotion, eyes widening as Madara pushed through them, blood and involuntary tears on his face. "MADARA!" He twitched upon hearing his father screaming his name but kept shoving his cousins out of the way. He was so close to the door. "DON'T LET HIM LEAVE!"

The Uchihas around him tensed, all focusing on Madara. No one made a move, all silently standing together, watching and waiting for the first move. Madara's hand was on the door knob, knowing he could rush to his car if he was fast enough. One of his cousins, Fugaku, reached out intended to grab Madara by the collar of his shirt, but was suddenly cut off by Izuna pushing him into the wall. "Run, Aniki!"

Madara heart pounded loudly in his chest as he slammed the door behind him. The rest of his cousins were following him out but didn't make it fast enough; the Uchiha pulled away from the curb, tires screeching on the wet asphalt. Madara didn't know what he was going to do or where he could go, but he just kept driving.
-

Hashirama opened the door, not expecting Madara to be standing on the other side, face covered in sticky blood. He wasn't looking into the Senju's face, but rather at the door mat. His hair was wet from the rain, sticking to his neck and cheeks. "I didn't know where else to go." Madara muttered. "I'll lea-"

The speed Hashirama embraced Madara, pulling him into the house gave the Uchiha no time to react. Warmth spread through Madara as the Senju held him; his larger body encasing him, trapping him with the strength of his arms. Hashirama buried his face into Madara's hair, a large, comforting hand at the back of his neck. "It's okay, Madara. Everything is going to be okay now."

"Hashi…"

"Let's get you cleaned up." Hashirama pulled back, weaving his fingers into the Uchiha's, trying to guide him down the hall. Madara stood firmly in place; the grip on Hashirama's hand increasing. "Madara?"

"Hashirama, I…" The Senju turned, his eyes widening as Madara's body shook. The Uchiha was squeezing his hand so hard, but Hashirama ignored it, moving closer again. "I love you."

The Senju smiled, carding his fingers through the Uchiha's hair, massaging Madara's scalp as he did so. The Uchiha refused to look up at him. Hashirama held Madara again, burying his face against the wild mane of wet hair. It smelled fresh, like the rain. Madara clawed at the Senju's shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Madara shook in Hashirama's arms, feeling an overwhelming sensation bubble up from his stomach and choke him. For some reason, he wanted to cry, but he wasn't sure why. Holding onto Hashirama as tightly as he could, Madara knew that his fear was strong, that it was consuming. His feelings were running wild again, sweeping him away in a torrent of emotion. He did something foolish. But when he felt Hashirama's nose brushing against his scalp, hands weaving into his hair, pulling their body's even closer together, it seemed like everything was fine.

Madara found it funny that love made the world seem like it had stopped moving; nothing existed but a moment compressed in time between two people. His heart beat loudly in his ears as Hashirama leaned into kiss him. Love scared him. The rose-tint of the world would revert eventually. And the moments would become fleeting.

He wanted to stay with Hashirama like this forever. But even Madara knew, if the moments froze forever, they would just be ideas and would linger in a plane where no one could reach them. This love he had with Hashirama would suffocate him, Madara realized as the Senju slipped his tongue between his lips, not caring about the blood on his face.

And if that were the case, he wouldn't care much if he drown.

...

So much fluff at the end with that sweet confession from Madara...

Madara: HOW DARE YOU EVEN BEGIN TO INSINUATE I WOULD...What are you doing with your hand?
Me: *waving arm back and forth* Drama llama.
Madara: Drama llama?
Me: Drama llama. You broke your dad's arm...Do you think this bodes well for you?
Madara: ...
Me: Cause you'd be wrong. Anyway, until next time, this was Hitoko-sama
Madara: I would never tell Hashi I loved him.
Me: Wow, that's not very nice.