Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope you enjoy.

"Can't you be any more gentle, Mito?" Madara complained. His hand was intertwined with Hashirama's, squeezing so hard that the skin was completely white from the strain. The red head huffed, pushing a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. She had packed his nose with gauze to keep the bones from moving around, making sure it kept the straightness of its original position.

"I'm done, quit being such a baby." She said, pulling back. "You're lucky. It's not crooked at all and as long as you keep it iced, the swelling should be gone by this time tomorrow." She ran her fingers gently down Madara's cheek; face blank of emotions. "You know," Both Hashirama and Madara looked up. They had let go of each other and stared up into the Uzumaki's pretty face. "If you need a place to go after Hashirama's family comes back from their trip, I can set you up with something in the red light district."

Hashirama tensed, but no one else in the room seemed to notice. Madara blinked, opening his mouth and then closing it. Hashirama spoke up, "You'd be willing to do that?" His voice shook slightly at the end.

"Naturally." She replied, pulling a cigarette case out of her pocket. The ivory and gold cover glistered in the light as she removed a dark papered cigarette from it. Before lighting it, she said, "The only way a real alliance between our families can be reached is if we protect what's important. Each other." Her breath was perfumed by the scent of cloves as smoke billowed from her lips. "Besides that, my mother would be thrilled taking care of Madara after she hears he broke Tajima's arm. She's wanted to do that for years." Hashirama unconsciously moved closer to the Uchiha next to him, relaxing a bit as he did so.

"Can I get one of those?" Madara asked; Mito handed him the case. "I guess being in the red light district wouldn't be too terrible." Hashirama's fingertips barely brushed against the Uchiha's thigh and he shifted out of the Senju's range. Mito flicked the flint of her lighter, Madara leaned in, setting the dark gray paper ablaze.

Mito took a chair next to Hashirama, settling in. "So, what are you going to do now, Madara? Your nose may be okay, but those black eyes are going to be there for at least three days."

Madara let out a sigh, smoke exiting with his breath. "I don't know." He tapped the butt of his cigarette over a crystal ash tray on the table, shaking his head. The ash fell in a neat pile. "Knowing my father, he probably already contacted the school and put in that I would no longer be attending, effective immediately."

"Maybe we should call a meeting." Hashirama proposed. He took the cigarette from Madara's hand, taking a drag from it. Mito clicked her tongue, staring at Hashirama and Madara, who were barely separated by the few inches of space on the couch.

"And how would that help?" Mito questioned, calmly. Her face completely stony and blank. "I doubt the Uzumaki and Senju clans would care if Madara can't go to school with us."

Madara tapped the butt of his cigarette out in the ashtray, "Don't worry about that, for now. The next few days, I'm going to lay low. Let this blow over in the house, and then go back."

Mito and Hashirama shared a look, both frowning at the Uchiha. "I refuse that proposal." Mito said, crossing her arms across her chest.

Madara raised an eyebrow, "Not really your decision, is it, Mito?"

"I also don't like that plan, Madara." Hashirama spoke up. "You said yourself that we'd probably never see you again if your father pulled the plug on this."

Madara sighed, shrugged his shoulders. "There's not much else we can do. Let's face it, none of the clans are going to care what we have to say. We're not the heads of anything. And while your mother, Mito, may be willing to keep me guarded from my father, it'll only be a matter of time before a war breaks out over it. I have to go back."

"But who will I glare at during lunch?" Mito said sardonically.

Madara was about to say something but Hashirama interrupted him. "We have a few more days before my family comes back. We'll think of something before then. I'm not going to give up so easily."

Mito nodded. "Yes, we'll think of something."

"Why do you even care, Mito?" Madara asked, settling into the Senju's couch. He crossed his arms over his chest, not necessarily frowning, but thinning his lips in a skeptical manner.

She turned her head away from the Uchiha, laughing softly. "Hashirama is annoying and I need someone to trash talk him with. I'm not usually one for sentimentality, but I would miss you a little, I suppose."

Madara smirked. "Of course you're sentimental, Mito, you're a woman after all."

"Do you want me to re-break your nose, Uchiha?" The Uzumaki said with a sugary-sweet smile. "Maybe fracture a cheekbone while I'm at it."

"You know," Madara and Mito broke away from their glaring to look at Hashirama, who was resting a cheek on his hand, shaking his head. "You both are usually so hostile to each other it's so nice to see you getting along." He was smiling so warmly at them. Madara hid the flushing on his cheeks and huffed indignantly. That smile was blinding up close.

Both Madara and Mito, steeling themselves against such a warm look, gained grave expressions for a moment before turning their faces towards the Senju.

"As if I could force myself to get along with such a woman, you complete idiot Hashirama."

"How presumptuous of you, Hashirama, to think that I do anything with Madara willingly."

"Why does this always happen?" Hashirama complained, pouting with his arms crossed.

"Hn." Madara muttered.

The three of them tensed when they heard a knocking on the front door. Hashirama put up a steadying hand as Mito and Madara got to their feet. She made a shooing motion and pushed Madara back into the kitchen, standing in front of the archway to obscure him more.

Hashirama opened the door, startled when it was pushed out of his hands, and Izuna came rushing in. "Aniki? Are you here?" Madara pushed Mito out of his way and came into the living room where Izuna was standing, looking around. He smiled briefly before noticing just how bad Madara's face was bruised. "Aniki, are you alright?"

"How did you get here?" Madara ignored Izuna's question, coming to stand in front of his brother with his arms crossed. He was frowning, but it weakened when he saw the concern shining in Izuna's eyes.

"Hn, I snuck out. Obviously." The younger Uchiha replied, turning his head slightly to break eye contact. "Father was angry that I helped you and he made me go to my room, but he was too busy barking orders at everyone to notice that I climbed out the window."

"You walked here?"

Izuna laughed, smirking widely. "Of course not. I took the bus."

Madara rubbed his temple, sighing as he did so. Hashirama stood behind them, watching with a gentle smile. Even though they were all supposed to be sworn enemies, it warmed his heart seeing Izuna's bratty, concerned side, and even more so when Madara showed his stern, older brother side. Madara put his hand on Izuna's shoulder and the younger moved in, hugging Madara around the waist. "I was worried about you, Aniki, you idiot. You broke father's arm! And you looked so…"

"Hn, yeah, I know, Izuna, alright? We're going to need to get you back home."

"No way."

Madara made a disbelieving noise in his throat and pushed Izuna so that he was standing straight in front of him so they could look into each other's eyes. "Izuna, it's dangerous for you to be here. I'm taking you home."

"No one but Hashirama is home. I haven't seen his brother at school since last Thursday so the other Senju are gone, right? I'll stay with you."

"You should listen to your older brother." Mito commented, sending a weak glare towards the younger Uchiha.

Madara rolled his eyes. "Stay out of this, Mito."

"You, apparently, aren't very convincing on your own, Uchiha." The red headed woman moved further into the room; her long hair swung behind her. She stopped next to Madara, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. Her silvery nails stood out brightly against his black leather jacket. Her brightly painted mouth close by Madara's ear. "My offer still stands, Madara. Hashirama knows how to contact me, if need be."

Hashirama's heart picked up as he watched the scene in front of him. Madara and Mito…They looked so natural standing next to each other. Both stoic and calm, both holding all the beauty of their families in their faces, strong-willed and stubborn. They were more than a smart match.

Mito walked past Hashirama, looking only very briefly over her shoulder before giving him a loud kiss. She left without a single word added. Izuna was staring between the door and Madara, watching his brother's stoic face and wondering why it was that Madara looked cold but still on the brink of exploding. Hashirama smiled awkwardly at the older Uchiha, sensing the unhappiness.

"Oi, Aniki." Madara finally snapped back into reality, lowering his eyes to meet Izuna's gaze. "What did that Uzumaki woman mean when she said 'her offer still stands'?" Madara's lips thinned in a line and he patted Izuna on the shoulder.

"I'm taking you home."

Izuna struggled for a moment, backing out of Madara's reach and settling between his brother and Hashirama. Izuna shook his head. "Just hear me out first." Madara frowned, he was about to grab Izuna by the collar of his shirt like he would scruff a cat, but if Izuna was fighting this hard, it had to mean something.

Madara sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay Izuna, tell me then."

"I can't." A deep breath exited the older Uchiha and he considering grabbing Izuna again. "I can't say it in front of Hashirama." The Senju's depressed and alienated aura filled the room, making Madara run an exasperated hand through his hair.

"What's wrong with Hashirama?" Madara asked. "There's nothing to worry about when it comes to him. He's a big idiot."

"I don't trust him." Izuna snapped out, teeth gritting into a hard line as he stared into Madara's face. "And you shouldn't either."

Madara and Hashirama briefly shared a look. "Kitchen." Madara said with unhindered annoyance. "Now, Izuna." Izuna quickly moved into the other room. Madara mumbled something, shaking his head as he followed his little brother into the kitchen. The smaller raven turned towards Madara frowning slightly.

"I can't believe you made me say that in front of him."

"Oh, so now you value what Hashirama thinks of you?" Izuna's eyes widened for a moment at the question. He looked towards his older brother who was leaning against the counter, scowling. "His opinion doesn't matter. What I think is strange is that you thought something like that constitutes a secret." Madara shook his head, laughing derisively under his breath. "Uchihas don't trust Senjus, right? That's what father has led us to believe."

"BECA-" Izuna cut himself off, regaining his composure and starting his sentence again as a whisper. "Because it's true, Madara. They've given no reason for us to trust them."

"Hashirama and I trust each other."

Izuna didn't seem phased at the admittance. "Just because you trust Hashirama doesn't mean his family trusts you and won't kill you on sight."

Madara let out a sigh and he moved closer to Izuna, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling the smaller body close to him. "Izuna, are you ready to be the clan leader?"

Between the two of them, both knew that their father had passed the title over to Izuna, but this was actually the first time they had talked about it out loud. "W-well, yes. I'm ready…."

"With your attitude and naivety, you'll get us all killed." Madara said barely above a whisper. "You're just a child who only listens to father, you don't have any idea about how this really works." Izuna looked away from Madara then, eyes cast towards the floor. He pushed past his older brother and back out into the living room. "Go back home, Izuna."

"I am!" He yelled back. "See if I care when you die." Izuna slammed the door behind him.

Hashirama turned his head towards Madara who was massaging his temples, frowning deeply. "You okay?"

Madara shrugged. "Fine." Hashirama moved over to give a bit of comfort but when Madara sidestepped him and completely avoided any means of contact, Hashirama sighed.

"You know, usually when someone offers you an ear and a shoulder to lean on, the polite thing to do is accept it." Hashirama said, sitting down on the couch.

Standoffishly, Madara joined him, sitting on the completely opposite side, frowning. "What exactly am I supposed to say, Hashi? I fucked up, okay? I fucked up with my father because I let my anger get the better of me. I fucked up with Izuna because I wanted him to leave and be safe at home. And I fucked up with you be-", Hashirama put a hand over the Uchiha's mouth, effectively silencing the words he knew would cut him right down to the core.

"Don't push me away, Madara. We both know you're here right now because you want me to by your side. You wouldn't have showed up on my down step like some lost kitten otherwise. Just…For now, just forget it all."

Madara huffed as the Senju removed his hand. "Whatever."

Hashirama slowly moved over towards Madara and eventually the Uchiha resigned himself, setting his head on the Senju's shoulder. "Are you honestly considering what Mito said?" Hashirama watched Madara's face from the corner of his eye, waiting. He was grinding his teeth slightly, waiting for the answer.

Madara shrugged. "Not particularly. However, I am grateful she even considered helping me, not that it would gain her much."

"I was surprised." Hashirama admitted with a laugh. He felt more relieved than words could properly express. "Maybe she has a crush on you." Madara sat straight up, frowning as the Senju laughed, continuing to tease the Uchiha.

"Shut up! As if that she-witch would even harbor any feeling towards me besides hatred!"

"Oh I don't know. I think she really likes you. She even acts all tough when you're around."

Madara scoffed. "You do realize we are talking about your fiancée, right?"

Hashirama shrugged, but then cradled his chin with a serious look on his face. "Though it would cause me problems because I love you and I really don't want to cause drama with Mito over who has the right to call you-"

"JUST BE QUIET, SENJU!" Madara felt heat flaring up in his cheeks as he pushed Hashirama with all of his might. Hashirama quickly retaliated, shoving Madara down into the couch, pinning him by his shoulders. The Uchiha struggled for all of two seconds before lips were pressed into his own. Hashirama devoured the Uchiha's lips.
-~~~~~~-

Hashirama had felt temptation many times in his life; no other desire had festered so deeply under his skin like Madara.

Madara had been here for two days. All the time Hashirama got to spend alone with the Uchiha only made his body ache more. The urge to possess Madara wholly was inhuman…Which was why he was debating his current set of decisions. He was standing outside of the bathroom, Madara on the other side of the door, the shower obscuring all sounds. His hand was on the knob and he was already naked. He couldn't stop himself, he had to go in. He had to see Madara at his most vulnerable.

The Uchiha started when he heard the door, even more so when the curtain to the shower was opened and Hashirama just waltzed in. He was going to say something in protest until his body stilled, Hashirama's larger frame nearly covering his own. The Senju's body felt warm, even though it hadn't even been caressed by the hot water droplets of the shower. Madara shuddered when two strong hands grabbed his hips, pulling him closer.

"Hashi?" Madara questioned and the Senju looked away for a moment, face flushing. Madara couldn't tell if it was from the heat or not.

"I-I just…" His voice trailed off when his hands moved from the Uchiha's hips, up to his stomach, past his chest. Madara closed his eyes, heart fluttering wildly when the hands ended up in his hair, gently brushing through it. "Your hair is a lot greasier than it looks."

Madara's face had never changed so quickly into a cold glare in his entire life. "I don't remember asking you to touch it!"

"Don't worry, I'll wash it for you." Hashirama assured, grabbing a bottle and squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his hand. "I've always wanted to do this."

"You're so strange." Madara muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. Hashirama's fingers massaging his scalp and the attention Madara was getting made the Uchiha shiver slightly, his pulse picked up and blood pooled lower in his body. Hashirama suddenly turned the Uchiha around and Madara had never felt so vulnerable in his life. He didn't have a single ounce of fondness for Hashirama's strong chest pressing hotly into his back. But he found himself relaxing as those fingers worked through his hair again.

Madara immediately tensed however when he felt Hashirama's hardness pressing directly into his ass. The Uchiha began to panic. "I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF WASHING MYSELF." He yelled in a frenzied way, pushing Hashirama out of the shower. The Senju knew he had pushed his luck too far, but felt even more dejected about how close he had been and how far away he now seemed.

"I swear I was going to do anything!"

"Liar!" Madara's head popped out from behind the curtain and he pointed straight at the Senju's still erect cock. "Then what's that?"

Hashirama laughed sheepishly. "It was just the heat?"

"Get out, Hashi! I don't want to-"

"Can we sleep in the same bed tonight?" Madara stopped in the middle of his tirade, mouth hanging open slightly. He had been taken off-guard by the request. "I just…I want to be close to you. And I didn't want to ask because you said it makes me sound desperate and if I don't ask you jus-"

"Okay." Hashirama then stopped his own tirade. Both of them still retained the heat in their cheeks, not really looking at each other. But then, Madara caught Hashirama glance and the Senju boldly captured his lips in a hunger-laced kiss.

"I'll see you in bed." Hashirama said with a gentle smile. Madara just nodded once knowing he was about to get himself into a dumb situation.
-~~~~~~-

"See? Isn't this great?" Hashirama mumbled, pulling Madara closer to him. His arms were wrapped tightly around the Uchiha's back, chin resting in the wild mane of midnight black hair. It smelled strongly of Hashirama's shampoo; earthy and woody. Possessiveness struck Hashirama deeply as he buried his nose along the Uchiha's scalp.

Sleepily, Madara replied, "Those feelings will pass, I assure you." The Uchiha felt his entire body heat up the closer Hashirama pulled him. "Why are you insisting on cuddling? You're a furnace." Madara weakly tried to push on Hashirama's chest, but there wasn't much force behind it. But even though Madara acted as though he didn't want to be close to the Senju, his nose and lips were resting against the tanned skin of Hashirama's neck. They rubbed against the sensitive flesh each time he spoke, warm air puffing with every word. The Senju shuddered.

Hashirama carded a hand through the Uchiha's hair, massaging his scalp gently with his fingers. Madara relaxed, considerably. This had worked earlier in the shower as well. Who knew someone like Madara liked to be pampered in this way? "I just want to be as close as possible to you, whenever I can get the chance. Besides, you're the one who agreed."

"Hn." Madara responded, shoving his arm underneath Hashirama's shoulder. He felt the silkiness of the Senju's hair in his fingers and decided to rest his hand against Hashirama's back, unconsciously rubbing small circles in the muscles. Hashirama started to twitch. The Uchiha cracked an eye. "Stop moving."

"Then stop tickling me."

"Oh? You're ticklish, are you?" Madara smirked, a little lopsided because of his sleepy state.

"Hey now, don't get any ideas. We're trying to sleep." Hashirama scolded, settling again. Madara's hand stopped.

"Mhmm…"

The room fell silent as the two of them laid together, tangled in a mess of their limbs. Madara's breathing slowed as he let his mind wander, thinking of things that calmed him like the rain pattering against the Senju's window or the slowing beat of Hashirama's heart. He moved down slightly so that his head was resting more on the Senju's chest. Hashirama's cheek rested on the Uchiha's forehead, nearly settling on his hairline.

Madara's eye opened when he felt a repeating pressure against his forehead, as if Hashirama was poking him or rocking his jaw back and forth. He looked up at Hashirama's face; his eyes were closed, face completely relaxed and set in a mask ready for sleep. The Uchiha ignored the sensation, believing it to be just a facial twitch. He adjusted his legs, sliding them so that his right leg slid in between Hashirama's.

Then the pressure reappeared, not even a second after he closed his eyes. Madara felt his brow twitch with annoyance. He tried to pull back from the Senju, but Hashirama grumbled something under his breath, clinging to Madara even more tightly than before and holding him in place. The Uchiha felt his anger flare up, not appreciating being emasculated by a sleeping Senju. "Hashirama, stop." The Senju didn't respond, but the pressure against his forehead had ceased again.

"What?"

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Poking me in the forehead." Madara peered up at the Senju's face. Hashirama hadn't even opened his eyes.

"Mh-kay."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah."

Madara settled down again, feeling more awake than he would have liked. He closed his eyes, trying to scoot his body even farther down so that Hashirama's face wasn't even close to him, but he realized with how tightly the Senju was holding him, Madara couldn't move any farther. The Uchiha huffed, forcing his face even deeper into the Senju's neck.

It was weird being this close to Hashirama. Sure, they had hugged and made-out but this was different. This was intimate. The shower too had been intimate. But this…This was a different level. They were holding each other, trying to sleep in the same bed, cuddled up. Hashirama scent invaded Madara's nose; it was strong being so close to the center of his body. It smelled like the freshness after a rainstorm, like walking through the woods in the middle of autumn. It was earthy, almost like Hashirama was composed of nature itself, but there were other more musky, masculine tones to the scent; the lingering of his cologne. It made Madara feel dizzy being so close.

But there was also a different strangeness being this close. Since Madara had arrived here two days ago, Hashirama hadn't laid a single aggressive hand on him; sexual or otherwise. He was treating Madara delicately, for whatever reason. Even when Hashirama had somewhat aggressively joined him in the shower, he demanded nothing of Madara. He simply washed the Uchiha's hair.

The raven found it annoying.

It wasn't as though Hashirama thought he was weak; it was something else. Sure, both of his eyes were blackened and bruised, and yes, his nose still stung every so often now that it was healing, but it was as though Hashirama was trying to comfort him. And that just seemed to consist of snuggling and coddling and generally spoiling Madara with gentle, stolen kisses and sweet whispers. There was passion but it was hindered.

The muted air of their current situation made Madara restless for more. He wanted to be consumed by Hashirama.

He twitched, shaking his head lightly at the odd thoughts he was having. He did tell Hashirama that he was in love with him and maybe that was why he was feeling like this…That their feelings were mutually acknowledged but not being acted upon.

Madara felt his heart beat heavily in his chest as he opened his eyes, a small realization coming over him. Was Hashirama afraid to take the next step? After all their talk and all of his taunting…Was Hashirama scared of what was supposed to happen next? Madara's grip tightened as he looked up at Hashirama's face.

Then the poking, again, resumed. Madara felt a seething annoyance rip out of his stomach when he heard the faint chuckling of Hashirama, the soft puffing of his breath as he laughed almost silently to himself. If Madara wasn't so close to his mouth, he probably wouldn't have even heard it. Hashirama was intentionally trying to provoke him.

It was working.

The Uchiha frowned, reaching forward with his free hand and grabbing onto the Senju's obscured nipple, squeezing painfully. Hashirama jumped, laughter broken up by a groan. "I said 'stop', Hashirama, do you really wish to see the full wrath of the Uchiha family?"

Hashirama retaliated in a similar manner, trapping Madara's arm against his chest and reaching out with a tanned hand. He got underneath Madara's wife-beater, the warmth of his palm sending electric jolts up the Uchiha's back and he shuddered. Hashirama found Madara's nipple, pressing into it softly, rolling it with his fingers. He twisted it gently; it started to get firm. "This is how that's supposed to feel, Madara." The Uchiha moaned weakly, trying to pull his hand away from the Senju. His other arm was trapped down my Hashirama's shoulder. He couldn't pull back, the warmth between them almost becoming suffocating as Hashirama began to tease his nipple more, twisting harder. It was painful but there was also jolts of excitement and adrenaline jostling around in Madara's body. He wanted to fight this feeling.

Then he remembered. Smirking to himself, Madara flattened the arm at Hashirama's side and moved his fingers erratically, making the Senju burst out with laughter. He tickled the Senju mercilessly, starting to laugh himself and not really understanding why. "Madara, stop!"

"You stop!" Madara laughed as Hashirama moved to grab his arm. The Uchiha pulled back, freeing himself from Hashirama's grasp. Their legs were still tangled together and Hashirama hooked his foot behind Madara's knees, pulling him back and closer. "Hashi!" Madara groaned as the Senju fondled him more, fingers trailing down his naval, sending warm washes of pleasure throughout the Uchiha's body.

"You stop, I stop."

"Oh, are you giving up, Hashi?" Madara was panting lightly, heating pulsing through him from the struggling and the arousal. He smirked widely, red eyes feral as he watched the Senju's face.

Hashirama scoffed. "As if, I just don't want to hurt your pride when you lose."

"I don't lose." Madara countered, moving right back into Hashirama's arms. The Senju embraced him hard, squeezing so that they couldn't be separated by Madara's struggling. He was more than awake now. He hadn't thought just playing with Madara a little would lead to this situation. The fires of his passion and arousal were burning their way through his body as he urged to touch the Uchiha more.

Madara knew he had to kick this up a notch if he wanted Hashirama to concede, and continuing to tickle him wasn't going to be enough. The Uchiha smirked as he flipped the Senju over, straddling his waist. He pinned Hashirama's shoulders down, not really understand why he thought his was his best move, but he was just going with the flow of his body. He was letting instinct take the lead. Madara dipped his head low, mouth attaching to the delicate and tan skin of Hashirama's neck. The Senju moaned openly, shifting so that his hands were cupping the backs of Madara's thighs, pushing him forward. Their blooming arousals brushed together and Madara couldn't help the moan bursting through his lips. The hot puffs of Madara's breath tickled and warmed the skin on Hashirama's neck; he twitched as Madara continued to kiss and suck on his neck. It was soft kissing, so it wouldn't leave marks, but just the gentleness of Madara's lips on his neck had Hashirama shaking with need. "Madara."

The Uchiha lifted his head and Hashirama moved into place, sealing their lips together. Both of them moaned, seeking a deeper connection. Madara removed his hands from Hashirama's shoulders and the Senju shot up into a sitting position, forcing the Uchiha to sit in his lap. His hands were everywhere touching, caressing, and just enveloping himself in everything that was Madara. When his fingers wove into that still slightly damp tangled mane of hair, Hashirama moaned; the smell perforating the room every time he brushed his hand through the tresses. Madara let out a weak whine when the Senju bucked his hips into the Uchiha's. They pulled back from the kiss, grinding into each other wildly. Their gasps and breathy utterances filling up the silence. "Hashi..." Madara arched his back, a shudder wracking his frame as the tempo of their arousal pulsated through them. "Hashirama."

Hashirama shivered at the soft, breathless way Madara uttered his name. Heat bounded through his blood and he forced Madara to lay back on the bed, resting on top of him. His heart beat skyrocketed as Madara threw his wife beater to the side, letting the Senju see the full expanse of Madara's pale chest. He took in a deep breath, eyes widening at the arousing sight of Madara. His pink cheeks, the way his hair fell against Hashirama's pillow, the half-lidded, wild look in his eyes. Hashirama bit his lip. "Madara, I don't know if I can stop myself if we go any farther than this."

The Uchiha leaned up. "Are you giving up then?" He kissed the Senju's ear, sucking on the tender skin behind it, letting out a heady, taunting laugh.

"I'm being serious." Hashirama panted out the words, holding Madara against him. His skin was hot to the touch, sweat starting to break out across it. His scent was far stronger now than it was a few minutes ago. It was driving the Senju crazy. "I don't want to do anything to scare or hurt you."

Madara grabbed onto Hashirama's face. "Does it look like I'm scared?"

Hashirama frowned. "Well, no-"

"Don't ruin the fucking moment, idiot. Just go with the flow. If you do something I don't want, you'll be the first one to know." Madara said in a stern tone. His eyes softened as he moved his hands down from Hashirama's face, resting them gently on Hashirama's shoulders. "Or, are you the one that's scared?"

The Senju sighed, wrapping his arms around Madara's back, pulling him close. "And you call me 'stupid'."

The Uchiha could feel heat settling into his cheeks at the veiled admission. "J-just go slowly and it'll be fine. We knew this was going to happen eventually, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Hashirama set his head on the Uchiha's shoulder. "And here I thought I would be the one who'd calm you down."

"Oh, there's still time for that." Madara ran a hand through his hair. "Plenty of time for that."

Hashirama breathed out, still holding Madara tightly. "So, do you want to continue?"

The Uchiha reached between them, grabbing onto Hashirama's apparent arousal and started palming it through the Senju's sweats. "That's not going to go away so easily."

Hashirama moaned, biting down on Madara's shoulder. He jumped at the harsh feeling of the Senju's teeth scraping against his skin, holding back a groan. "I guess not." His sweaty forehead pulled back from the Uchiha's shoulder. "Fuck…" Hashirama didn't hold back his voice when Madara pulled out the Senju's cock, holding the thick appendage in his hand. His heart started to beat heavily again, pounding and reverberating in his ear as he wrapped his hand around the meaty flesh. The sensation of Madara gently stroking his cock with coarse, hardened hands drove Hashirama crazy, unable to keep himself quiet as the Uchiha played with him. Madara pulled back for a moment and the lack of heat left the Senju reeling for more contact. He watched as the Uchiha licked his palm, wetting it for better maneuvering. He spit into it next, and Hashirama bit his lip finding the sight overly erotic. Mingling with the drops of pre-cum dribbling from the slit, Madara started to jerk. His hand moved quickly, elegantly over Hashirama's shaft; the Senju couldn't stop himself from quaking at the contact. It was more than he could even describe. The moment he had been dreaming of for almost two years was finally within his own grasp.

Hashirama shamelessly bucked into the Uchiha's hands, seeking the friction. He captured Madara's lips again, dipping his tongue in between the Uchiha's petal soft lips. He shuddered at the contrasting feelings. Madara started to jerk him faster, feeling more confident about what he was doing. Madara was somewhat relieved that Hashirama's body wasn't too foreign; similar anatomy meant he knew more about what to do, try out what he liked and could gauge the reaction more accurately. As far as Madara could tell, Hashirama seemed to be fine with whatever he was willing to do. He kept moaning into the Uchiha mouth, slurping at his lips and breaking the contact invariably when he arched his back. Madara found that his cock was straining at the reactions he was getting. Every moan, every whimper, it made Madara feel the need in his groin growing more and more desperate.

"Madara…" He kissed the Uchiha passionately then, their lips pushing together hard and needy. From the desperate fucking Hashirama was doing to his hand, Madara could only assume that he was close. He added a little pressure, awkwardly shifting his wrist to move faster. Suddenly Hashirama grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him completely. "I'm about to…"

"Yeah, I figured. Why did you stop me?" Hashirama kissed him again; Madara could taste the needy tang on the Senju's invading tongue.

"I just…" Madara sighed, rolling his eyes at Hashirama. He pulled off the rest of their clothes, exposing the full whiteness of his body to the Senju. It was well toned, every muscle and ridge to Madara's body defined like he wasn't even a real person but a sculpture. He was evenly pale too, no blemishes or mars stood out to Hashirama in the dim light. Madara felt more heat enter his cheeks as he looked at Hashirama's body, noticing, for the first time, just how masculine and attractive he really was. In the shower, he'd been distracted by Hashirama's honest and open eyes, he barely even noticed the Senju's body.

Madara swallowed, reaching out to run his fingers against the defined abs of the Senju's stomach. They both lived incredibly active lifestyles, but somehow Hashirama managed to hide just how strong he really was underneath his clothes.

The astonished yet appreciative look on Madara's face egged Hashirama on, unable to contain his desire for the Uchiha. He touched Hashirama so gently with such course, strong fingers. Just the pads brushing against his skin was enough to cause twitches and strains in his muscles. He had to hold himself back as not to frighten Madara. But, eventually, Hashirama couldn't help but run his hands down Madara's entire body; without clothes to obscure him, every rush of adrenaline felt more like a shock of electricity. Before Hashirama could stop himself, he had reached Madara's thighs, running his nails up the skin to the back of the Uchiha's knees. Madara moaned, cock twitching at the sudden stimulation. The aggression and admiration in the touch set the Uchiha's skin on fire with his own needs revealing themselves more and more.

"Hashi," Madara smirked, "let me play a little more." Settling Hashirama back so that he was sitting on his mattress, Madara moved forward, predatorily watching the Senju's face as he wrapped his hand around Hashirama's cock again. He captured Hashirama's lips in a more than hungry kiss; it was crossing the bridge to desperate. Words wouldn't be enough to express to Hashirama that Madara was feeling the moment and didn't much care for his hesitance. Madara decided to assert himself if he wanted to get this going. With his free hand he grabbed the small hairs at the base of Hashirama's neck, pulling back his head and exposing the tanned, delicious looking expanse of skin. Madara suckled and bit into the skin; Hashirama's hands were tightly gripped on Madara's biceps.

Hashirama felt his stomach burn as the tantalizing whispers of release tickled at the edges of his body. Madara being so close to him, his cool skin pressing into his hot body, the heady shudders of his breath against Hashirama's neck, and the skilled way Madara jerked him…It was all too much. With a breathless, nearly soundless choking cry, Hashirama came, coating Madara's hand and stomach. "Jesus, dude, ever heard of jerking off?"

Before Madara could continue to complain about the mess Hashirama made, he was forced backwards. He let out a small sound of surprise, looking up into the Senju's somewhat dazed and unsatisfied face. Madara heart started to race, a small wave of panic welling up from his stomach as a warning of what he was about to endure. Hashirama's large hand came up to caress the Uchiha's face, holding it gently as he leaned in. He wanted to kiss the Uchiha, but he knew that if he continued at this slow pace, Madara would gradually get cold feet and pull away from him. He moved so that he could kiss Madara's neck, tasting the distant saltiness of the pale skin, savoring how Madara's breath hitched and how he moaned when Hashirama's teeth scratched along the column of his throat.

He moved slowly down from Madara's neck to his chest, licking and nibbling all of the tantalizing flesh on his way downward. The Uchiha panted, shuddering and twitching with the sudden amount of attention he was getting. This was the skin Hashirama knew he could mark up, being that it could be obscured underneath clothes and he started to mar as much as he could; his kisses were harsh, turning into bruising sucks as he made his way down the Uchiha's chest. Madara arched, weaving his hands into Hashirama's hair, unconsciously pulling and tugging at the locks with every pleasurable swipe of the Senju's tongue. "You taste so good." Hashirama muttered, nuzzling the Uchiha's navel. Madara's eyes opened as he realized just how close Hashirama's mouth was to his cock, putting together the pieces of how far they really were going tonight. A drop of sweat coolly fell down his neck as he propped himself up on his elbows. He watched, nervously, forcing himself not to chew a hole through his lip as Hashirama's strong grip enveloped his thighs, pulling them apart. He tried to slow his breathing, calm himself down as the Senju kissed along his happy trail, thumbs massaging his thigh muscles reassuringly as Hashirama tortured him with just proximity.

"Hashirama…" Madara shakily released out a long held breath, anticipation sparking his nerves to life when the Senju's hot mouth neared his erection. It was dripping with need; neglect had made it stand proud, waiting to be touched.

"I love you." Hashirama muttered, biting into the Uchiha's thigh gently. The Senju started sucking and lapping at the bite mark as soon as he was finished, earning an incredibly drawn out moan from the Uchiha. Madara gripped the blankets underneath him, hands clawing them up and pulling them from the mattress. "So fucking beautiful. I love you so much." Madara looked down at Hashirama, his large, dark eyes shining with a wash of sparkling emotion as he caught the ruddy stare of his lover. He took Madara into his mouth then and the Uchiha arched up, his heart hitting the top of his ribs; it pulsed rapidly under his skin, nervousness followed by an extremely satisfying wave of pleasure.

"Ahhhn, Hashi!" Madara was startled by the lewd quality his voice had taken, shaking with surprise that he could sound so lascivious.

Hashirama, not really knowing what he was doing, started to experiment with the cock in his grasp. He listened, watched, and took random guesses at what Madara would like. Every time the Uchiha's breath hitched or he moaned, usually being Hashirama's name, the Senju felt like someone was shocking him. Everything about the Uchiha was arousing; the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he voiced his pleasure. Hashirama could barely stand it. He wished he was more experienced so that he wouldn't have to take random guesses as to what Madara would like, wanting to the Uchiha to be far more reassured as they continued. Madara was the one speeding everything along; they were probably going to try to have sex tonight, Hashirama felt light headed at the thought. He had no idea what he was doing and this was something that wasn't as naturally intuitive as some things he had done. It would be touch and go from the very start and it scared Hashirama to think that he could very easily hurt Madara without much effort.

His hands shook around the base of Madara's cock, taking in more of the pulsing flesh. At the very least, he could try to get Madara off once before they moved on. The Uchiha moaned and arched, hand falling over his eyes as he concentrated on the feeling of the warm mouth on his cock. He knees were shaking by Hashirama's shoulders and the Senju found that a vulnerable Madara was incredibly cute and honest with his reactions. It was rare that he would let his emotions show but the Uchiha showed all of his pleasure with more than just his body; the way he whimpered and moaned, the small incoherent utterances of his lips as Hashirama sucked…Hashirama's groin started to swell and ache with a resuming urge.

Hashirama pulled his mouth away, sitting back on the heels of his feet. He leaned over Madara, the Uchiha started to regain some of his lost composure. The Senju, knowing he would have to begin this at some point, reached towards the nightstand, rummaging through a drawer. Madara knew what was happening and tried his best to keep his breathing and pulse under control. He had been the one who asserted this would happen, he was the one who said that Hashirama and he would be fucking tonight. His stomach started to churn and his erection slowly lost a bit of steam. Hashirama noticed that Madara seemed out of sorts and came back to the Uchiha's mouth, kissing him with a fierceness. Tongues and teeth clashes as he attempted to distract Madara from what he was about to do; Hashirama knew kissing wouldn't be enough but it was a first step.

"J-just go slow, okay?" Madara said, placing his hands against the Senju's shoulders. He didn't like how both his hands and voice shook. Hashirama ignored it, simply nodding his head.

"If it's too much, I'll stop."

"Yeah…"

Hashirama leaned down, giving the Uchiha a chaste kiss. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"Hn." Madara tried to keep his face impassive and not let Hashirama know about the anxiety stirring in his gut but this was a completely new experience for the Uchiha. He actually felt afraid. Out of all the things Madara had done in his entire life, he never thought having sex with Hashirama would be the one that would actually scare him.

Hashirama could feel Madara's knees shaking; they bumped into his sides as he poured lotion onto his fingers, warming it up with his skin before even thinking about leaning in and touching Madara with it. The Uchiha let out a shaky breath as Hashirama moved downwards, his mouth taking in Madara again. Swallowing hard, Madara slowly felt himself relax as the pleasure of the Senju's hot mouth on his cock slowly brought him back to full hardness.

But then Madara felt the strange, wet sensation against his hole and he moved away out of reflex, kneeing Hashirama in the side of the head. The Senju sputtered, reeling for a moment as Madara completely stilled beneath him. Hashirama looked up from the Uchiha crotch, frowning. "A verbal signal would have sufficed!"

"I-I didn't mean to!" Madara countered, "It was an accident, I swear!"

Hashirama sighed, "Listen it's okay if we don't go through with this tonight. I know you're scared."

"I'm completely fine. The wetness startled me, that's all. Please continue." Feeling even more embarrassed than he did before, Madara laid back so that he could only stare at the ceiling, trying to will the hotness in his cheeks to fade. He tried to relax as best he could but when Hashirama's finger started to enter him, Madara couldn't help the tensing in his back and the urge to resist. His eyes widened and biting down on his lip, the Uchiha tried to distract himself from the uncomfortable feeling.

He just had to be the bottom…Madara chastised himself for letting himself become the receptacle for their desires. He should have known this would be a bad idea and his nerves would get the better of him. Though, he doubted Hashirama would have fared much better as the bottom. Madara swore to himself he would get Hashirama back for this new form of embarrassment.

When the second finger slipped in, Madara winced, choking on his spit. He glared down at Hashirama who took the signal as a warning and slipped the Uchiha's cock back into his mouth. Madara felt conflicted; the pleasure of Hashirama's mouth was enough to keep him hard, but the finger's digging around inside him, stretching and opening him, fought against all of the warmth and enj-

"Oh."

"Oh?" Hashirama echoed. "Should I stop?"

"N-no, just touch there again." Madara's back arched as Hashirama pressed his fingers into that spot again and again. When the suction returned to his cock, Madara moaned. "Fuck, no more. I'm…"

Hashirama ruthlessly continued, adding a third finger to the mix. Madara didn't even seem to notice, caught up with the burn in his stomach. He sucked Madara hard, using his free hand to jerk where his mouth couldn't quite reach. Madara cursed loudly, hips rocking to gain the best access possible. Hashirama gagged a couple times but let Madara continue to thrust wildly, knowing Madara was lost to his own pleasure. Madara tightened up, fists pulling at the sheets so hard he untucked them from the mattress, orgasm bursting through his body.

Hashirama choked on the sudden amount of fluid entering his mouth and gagged from the taste. He turned his head away from Madara's cock and swallowed as quickly as he could. "Ugh, did you really just swallow?"

"What else was I supposed to do with it? Spit it on the floor?" Hashirama re-positioned himself between the Uchiha's legs, leaning in for a kiss. Madara turned his head to the side. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you don't want to kiss me because of that!" Madara gave a skeptical look, crossing his arms over his chest. "It was your cum! I'd kiss you if you blew me!"

Madara rolled his eyes. "Whatever, fine."

Hashirama sighed, shaking his head. He leaned in for the kiss and Madara didn't pull away this time. Hashirama moved directly between Madara's legs and the Uchiha tensed when he felt some hard brushing against his stretched hole. This was actually happening. This was real.

Madara could feel a bead of sweat drip from his forehead and down his neck. It was cold against his hot skin and he knew that after this was over there was no going back. There's no way to undo the sex they were about to have. Swallowing hard, Madara braced himself, closing his eyes and laying back as Hashirama pulled back from the kiss. "Are you ready?" Madara just glared at the question; he'd never be fully ready for this. What they were doing was connecting at a physical level. A connection like that would radiate out into emotions and weave them together even more.

"Just hurry up, Hashirama." Madara said in a snippy tone.

Hashirama shook his head. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'm not forcing you."

Madara sat up. "After all this build up, it would be disappointing not to."

The Senju gave a skeptical look. "As right as you are, that's not the most compelling reason to do this."

"If, right now, Hashirama, you give me yet another heart-wrenching confession, I will leave the room."

Hashirama reeled for a moment, sputtering as he obviously clamped his mouth shut. "You're so difficult sometimes. Why can't you just admit-"

"Stop right there." Madara said, lying back again. "I think we've talked enough for one evening."

The Uchiha frowned when he heard under Hashirama's breath something akin to 'that's what you always say'. He shook his head as Hashirama's hands came to rest on his hips, pulling the Uchiha body closer to the Senju. He took a deep breath in and he could feel Hashirama's hipbones digging into his thighs and the bulbous head of the Senju's cock pressing against him. Madara swallowed heavily and began to reassure himself that, because Hashirama cock was just about as large as his own, this wouldn't be nearly as bad as he was making it out to be.

Of course, Madara realized during each second of Hashirama pushing into him, he was wrong. Hashirama moaned into his ear, hot breath tickling his hair. It made the situation worse when the Uchiha clingingly wrapped his arms around Hashirama, pulling him even closer. Madara was forcing himself not to hurt Hashirama, trying to focus his attention on any and everything he could to make sure he didn't just reel back and punch Hashirama in the face, or dig his nails in too deep, or strangle him. Madara knew, too, that Hashirama was going to misinterpret the Uchiha's clinging as an urge to get closer. Which, to the Uchiha, was even more of a reason to strangle him.

Hashirama's tongue slipped between Madara's lip, hungrily devouring the Uchiha's mouth as their kisses repeatedly devolved into wet, sloppy, open-mouthed moans and lip smacks. Madara felt kissing was probably the best way to distract himself from clenching down on Hashirama. He had relaxed and now, more than before, the pain was akin to a dull ache. Unintentionally, Madara bit Hashirama's lip and blood spilled between their mouths, dampening their kisses even more. Hashirama hissed, more in a feral, passionate way than angry. Madara's heart started to flutter when sensitive nerves inside of him were brushed for the first time; he tossed his head back, arousal once again filling his body. Hashirama moaned, biting down on the Uchiha's neck. Even though Madara hadn't wanted marks to show, he couldn't deny the pleasure he was feeling from it now.

Hashirama was muttering something heatedly against the bruising skin of Madara's neck and suddenly, Madara felt warmth fill him. He blinked as Hashirama slowly pulled out, realizing the Senju had just finished. Hashirama continued to kiss and suck at his neck, running his hands up and down Madara's body. Madara moved out of Hashirama's touch, allowing his heated and sweating body to cool on the other side of the bed. "Just as it was getting good, Hashirama, you blew it. Literally." The Senju sat up at the ready to defend himself but the bright shine of Madara's eyes and the dark shade to his cheeks seduced Hashirama.

"Let me make it up to you…" He said in barely a whisper and Madara found he couldn't say 'no' to the mouth nearing his cock again.
-~~~~~~~~~~~-

The morning after left Hashirama at sea in a wash of emotion. Madara found the melodramatics annoying since he was the only land where Hashirama's fingers could make purchase. The Senju couldn't stand watching Madara get out of his bed, put on his clothes, and start packing up his things. He pulled at the Uchiha's shirt, making him back up slowly to the bed again, sitting once the backs of his knees hit the mattress. Gently, he tried to undress the Uchiha again, recapture the moment he'd received from last night. "That's enough, Hashirama."

"Don't leave." Hashirama muttered, his lips cascaded down Madara's shoulders. "Please."

"Hashirama, your parents are coming back tonight. I can't stay."

"You can live in my closet." His voice was soft in Madara's ears; despite the fact it was a ridiculous request, Madara's pulse picked up.

"I am not a stray cat." Madara assured with a slight shake of his head.

"Don't go to her." Madara stilled slightly in the Senju's arm, feeling them wrap even tighter around him. "The thought of it, I can't stand it."

"What is plaguing that silly mind of yours now, Hashi?" Madara tried to pull out of Hashirama's grasp but then the Senju's grip only tightened. "No, really, what is it now? I don't-" The next thing Madara knew he was looking up at Hashirama's face, his back pushed into the mattress. Blinking, the Uchiha started to watch the face above him, searching for the answers in the Senju's open eyes. There was a look on Hashirama's face, a look he could identify with, something deep and dark, something Madara himself had felt more than once. It was an intensifying ache that Madara felt even now. "What was it that you said to me? 'Don't be jealous'? Tell me, why are you jealous of your own wife?"

"She's not my wife yet."

"Indeed not. But my question still stands. There's no reason for you to harbor those feelings towards Mito."

"When she looks at you, and she touches you, I-" Hashirama hands shook; he wasn't looking the Uchiha in the face. Madara started to laugh at the Senju's words.

"I didn't know you had taken a page out of my book." Madara cupped Hashirama's cheek. "I feel the same way when I see her look at you, when I watch her kiss you, but I have solace in the fact that, despite what is assumed, I have you. And you have me, and you've had me. Isn't that right?" Hashirama watched the Uchiha's ruddy eyes become soft as he carded a hand through the Senju's hair. "We know how we feel for each other."

"Do I?" Hashirama pushed. "I'm fairly certain I've only heard the truth from you once. You'd rather make your emotions into puzzles for me to decipher."

"I wouldn't like you if you weren't bright, Hashirama."

"This contradicts many, many years of your previous statements, you know that, right?"

Madara shrugged, getting out of the Senju's strangle hold and onto his feet again. The Uchiha was silent for a moment, a very serious yet not so grave look adorning his countenance. Madara was loking into Hashirama's face, looking for something, eyes scanning over the Senju's skin, his features, into his eyes and all the way down to his lips. He sighed. "How are we going to survive this, Hashirama?"

"What?"

"This." Madara pointed between the two of them. "You and me; us. How are we going to survive?"

Hashirama was silent. He watched the calm, nearly unreadable look on the Uchiha's face, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "This is more than enough for me. More than I could ask for, more than I could ever deserve. I love you so much. I do. I love you." Madara tried to look away but the Senju grabbed his face, forcing Madara to look into Hashirama's dark eyes. "I want to be with you always. If that means we have to pret-"

"Pretending is one things Hashirama. Little insight, I'm always pretending, always acting. And so are you; you're not this perfect, jovial little person. You're dark and you hurt. There are parts of you, you refuse to let me see. And I'm the person closest to you. Let's face it, this won't work. We have expectations. Our marriages, children. An affair may begin to lose it's luster by that point."

Hashirama slammed his hand down on the headboard, catching Madara off-guard. He jumped, moving into a somewhat more defensive stance as he turned to fully face the Senju. Hashirama had moved both hands to cover his mouth, but the Uchiha could see the muscles of the Senju's jaw rocking. He was grinding his teeth with what Madara could only think was anger. He swallowed as Hashirama finally turned his eyes towards the Uchiha. "Why do you always insist on pushing me out? Do you want to hurt me, Madara? Because I know you never really mean any of the hurtful things you say, you always regret it. So why-why even say it? You tell me I'm the one who always ruins things, but it's you who ruins it."

Madara had accidently backed himself into a wall as Hashirama got up from the bed. He grabbed onto the Uchiha wrists, making him stand chest to chest with the Senju. Hashirama leaned in and kissed Madara harshly. "Hashi-" A tongue dipped into his mouth effectively silencing Madara. The Uchiha started to struggle, but Hashirama overwhelmed him. Madara grunted with displeasure as he ended up against the wall against, having been slammed into it by the Senju.

The Senju broke the kiss, tightening his grip on Madara's wrists. "Stop running away." Hashirama was angry and he was trying to expel his frustrations in a physical way that he thought wouldn't hurt them; Madara knew better, however. Hashirama pulled back again, his hot breath against Madara's cheek as he spoke. "I won't let you be afraid of me, or this." If this situation was allowed to continue, Hashirama would do something he'd regret. And at this point it seemed like the threat to Madara's person by Hashirama's hands was very real. The Uchiha stomped down on Hashirama's foot, hard enough for Hashirama to pull away and give Madara enough room to head butt the Senju in the chin. Hashirama completely let Madara go, holding his face from how hard his teeth clacked together.

Madara panted, his face flushed with satisfaction and arousal. He licked his lips, composing himself while Hashirama worked through the pain with a string of curses. Madara was hoping that would snap Hashirama back into the right state of mind. The Hashirama he had just seen, that was where desperation met anger, where the urge to consume met the means to consummate. That Hashirama, he was sloppy and he was handsy, he was petrified. He thought kisses and force could beat sense into Madara about what their feelings meant and what reality was for them. Madara knew better.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Hashirama pulled his hand back and his teeth were red with blood, it dribbled down on his chin and he flexed his jaw, flinching. Madara felt a pang in his gut and one in his chest. He took a step forward and Hashirama just watched as the Uchiha closed the distance. "Madara?" The Uchiha licked the blood from Hashirama's chin and shoved the Senju back onto the bed, climbing on top of him, straddling his lap. The raven's eyes were muddled with passion, half-lidded as he gently carded his fingers through the Senju's long hair. Hashirama grabbed Madara's wrist again, bringing the pale hand to his mouth and kissing each knuckle. "I thought you had 'enough'?"

"As if this could be enough for me. It'll never be enough."
-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-

Muttering filled the house as Madara stepped through the threshold. His face was a mask, not a single hint of emotion could be seen, but everyone seemed to know he was nervous. And why wouldn't he be? Madara had betrayed his own father and then ran away from home. Some of his cousins were huddled around the table in the living room, speaking in harsh whispers as Madara passed by the archway. They were only silent when Madara was in view, but resumed speaking when he had gone.

The Uchiha swallowed as he got to the bottom of the stairs, looking upwards and towards his father's office. Undoubtedly, his father would be angry. He could already imagine the slew of curses and the insults he would spew. Madara braced himself as he ascended the staircase, not saying a word or even looking back. He knocked twice before getting an acknowledged greeting. Tajima looked over his shoulder, setting his drink down on the mantel of the fireplace. He turned so that he could fully face Madara. Neither of them said a word and just stood there for a moment, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fireplace.

Tajima spoke first, "I knew you would return."

"Where else could I go?" Madara asked. "This is my home, after all."

Tajima scoffed, nodding his head. He grabbed his drink again, taking a sip. "Yes, it is indeed." Madara watched his father polish off his drink and hold the cup out, signaling to Madara he wanted a refill. "Bourbon, straight. Three fingers."

He filled the glass promptly, handing it back to his father. Tajima nodded his thanks, holding the glass close to his chin as he looked at his son. "I do believe, Madara, that you have something to say to me." Tajima said, his eyes were full of accusations and Madara almost laughed at the look.

"Yes, well, I do suppose I overreacted the last time we spoke. Forgive me." His tone was icy and insincere.

Tajima squeezed the glass in his hand, it did not break, however. "You overreacted?"

Madara shrugged. "It is the best way to put it, I would think."

With a sigh, Tajima turned away from Madara and set his glass down, hands both resting on the fireplace mantel. "Of all the things I am grateful for, it has to be that your mother wasn't alive long enough to see you turn into a-"

Madara grabbed his father by the front of his collar, pulling him close. "Don't finish that sentence. You're drunk and that was cold, even for you. A new record of low. It would be better if you remembered that I am capable of violence against you; I will give you another bone to match your arm." Madara's voice decreased in volume, nearly speaking in a whisper. It made him seem more intense; his voice matching the muted anger his eyes sparkled with.

"Is this how it's going to be between us now, Madara? Are you going to hate me?" Madara was taken aback by the question. "Do you think I wanted things to be like this?" Tajima shook his head, anger swirling around in his eyes. "I remember the day you came to me and told me that you wanted to start going to public school. I could feel you slipping through my fingers. So I protected us-the clan-by separating you out of the heir pool. But then Izuna followed you; he wants to be just like you." Tajima picked up his glass again. He threw it against the wall suddenly; Madara repressed the surprised jump and stared at his father. "You have so much influence in this family, Madara, and yet you seem to see none of it. I remember my wild days of youth; they were nothing like yours. Your absentmindedness about us-your family-will lead to our downfall. Your brother needs you more than ever; he needs you to guide him. He's still so young, still so naïve about the world and the clan matters."

Madara felt an ache in his chest and he looked away from his father, choosing to stare at his feet, ashamed of himself. He had let himself get caught up in the trivialities of less important relationships. His father was right; as it stood, Izuna was the most important person not just for the clan, but for Madara himself. Swallowing, Madara numbly nodded his head. "You're right."

"And that," Tajima began, "is how I knew you'd come back. Even though you've been letting yourself slip, you always manage to find the correct path again. But something like this cannot be forgiven so easily or be taken lightly." Madara nodded again, not speaking a word. "I have a job for you."

Madara raised an eyebrow. "In the casino?"

Tajima shook his head. "No, you're about five years too young to be working in that environment. Even we have certain regulations that are adhered to. It would be giving the government too much if we started letting our younger members work there." Madara watched as his father leaned over, grabbing a file from a drawer in his desk. He handed it to the younger Uchiha. "The next few months will be very crucial to us, Madara. And I honestly didn't want to assign you to this task but I figured you may as well get your feet wet, see what we really do."

"And punish me at the same time." Madara muttered.

Tajima shrugged. "You probably would have ended up on this mission regardless."

"Okay then, what exactly am I looking at?" Madara had opened the file and briefly glanced over the contents, knowing he would really have much more time to read it later. He would get the gist now and finish with the minor details at his leisure.

"The Senju are plotting something; they've rented a warehouse on the outskirts of their territory, very close to the edge of the neutral zone. From what we've gathered, it is where the Senju receive their gun shipments. They have the habit of moving their sites every year or so because they fear us destroying their stockpile. This is the first time in a long time we've gotten the drop on them." Tajima smirked in a triumphant way, like their plan had already come together. "I've been sending infiltration teams to get information about this warehouse and it seems to have passcodes, locked doors that cannot be picked, armed guards, and whatever else you can think of to keep people out." Madara nodded, listening thoughtfully. His father had paused as if formulating what to say next. "Your job, Madara, will begin when the infiltration team brings back any useful information about the locks and the passcodes; you'll have to deal with the guards yourself."

Madara bit his lip, "Understood." He paused for a moment, watching his father's face. "But I may have a suggestion. The infiltration team should be disbanded." Before Tajima could say a word in protest, Madara held up his hand. "Listen first, if any member of the infiltration team is caught or killed on the property, the Senju will know we're onto them. So, we should handle this as much outside the Senju property as possible. If you allow me to go to that public school again, I believe I can get the passcodes and keys."

"How is school going to help you, Madara? I doubt a crash course in calculus will enable you to build a key capable of opening any lock."

"True, but manipulating Hashirama is plausible, with some time. You saw how easily I managed to enter the Senju compound. He trusts me completely."

Tajima thought about this, folding his hands together and resting his chin on folded fingers. "Yes, I do suppose that could work. But I'm giving you a timeframe, two months should be enough time, don't you think?"

Madara swallowed, forcing himself to smile in a sly way. "Consider it done."
-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-

Madara sat in his car for what felt like an eternity. There was a cancerous feeling gnawing at his gut as he viewed the school in his peripheral. When everything was said and done, Madara knew the only words he could say to Hashirama were "I told you so."

Madara didn't flinch or jump when he heard excited tapping against his window. Hashirama was standing by the driver's side door, so when Madara opened the door, he practically stepped into Hashirama's too tight hug. The Uchiha did not see hide nor hair of the Uzumaki who generally accompanied the Senju in the morning. He supposed it would make things easier for him to set this plan into motion.

"Just how did you convince your father to let you come back?" Hashirama asked, finally letting the Uchiha go.

Madara turned his head and three different cars opened their doors, with twelve different Uchiha stepping out. "That's how. I have my own personal posse."

"Ah." Hashirama looked towards the front of the school where a group of his cousins stood completely still, all of their eyes widening at the sudden and very large Uchiha presence on campus. "Is this really going to be good for us?"

"It was this or home-schooling again. Take your pick, Hashi."

Hashirama and Madara hadn't moved. Out of the view of everyone, Hashirama's fingers gently brushed against Madara's hand and he smiled softly towards the Uchiha. "I'm so happy, Madara. You don't even know."

"I love you, Hashirama."

The Senju smiled widely, looking dreamily at the Uchiha. Madara felt a pain sink into his gut as he looked into such deep, wonderful eyes. He didn't know if he could do this. Forcing himself to present a realistic smile, Madara returned the gesture, and that seemed to enrapture Hashirama more. "You come back to school, tell me you love me, and you're smiling? It must be my birthday. I don't know how else I could get so many good things in a row."

Madara placed his hand delicately on Hashirama shoulder. "You deserve nothing but the best, Hashi."

"Same goes for you." Hashirama frowned when he spotted Mito encroaching on their moment. "I wish I could kiss you right now, but we'll save the fun stuff for later." Hashirama winked and the Uchiha rolled his eyes.

"Looks like our panic was short-lived." Mito commented. She smiled very gently towards Madara. "Can't say I'm too upset that you're back."

"I'm telling you Mito, an affair is just a kiss away." The Uzumaki smirked at the comment, cupping the Uchiha's face in her hand. She gripped Madara's chin between her thumb and pointer finger, pulling him very close to her face.

"Perhaps one day I'll take you up on that offer." Mito smirked, practically throwing Madara's face out of her hand. She linked arms with Hashirama and smiled warmly at him. "Now then, let's head inside before the war between your cousins begins."

"Why can't we all just get along?" Hashirama complained as he turned with Mito towards the entrance of the school.

"Life wouldn't be nearly as interesting if we were all ordinary people."

"Whatever." Madara slipped back so he was walking behind Hashirama and Mito. He felt a lump building up in his throat and a horrible emotions eating away at his gut. He wanted to vomit but continued walking forward, completely stone faced. It would be over in a matter of months; Madara had to tell himself that. But Madara knew, Hashirama would find out eventually.

Madara didn't know if they would survive this.