They were heading to a meeting, walking peacefully, talking about nonsense, joking, laughing till coughing, clearly enjoying what it shouldn't have been the definition of 'a fun trip'. No. It didn't really matter, 'cause as everytime they were together, or barely near from the other, none of them could handle back their feelings.
It just took a few kisses to lose it all to madness, and get lost in pleasure; on his lips, neck, collarbones, hands shaking, tracing the marks of his aching yet hot body, exploring, gently as always. As only he could be.
Hashirama calls him, once and too many times. Madara doesn't answer though, doesn't need to, he's busy drowning in all this pleasure, body feeling the caresses this man gives.
Trembling.
Clothing to hell. One second and every piece of fabric leaves their bodies completely naked. Madara rests on the dirt, nonetheless he doesn't mind, not when such being is trapping him with all his manhood. Fingers now inside historia warm cavity.
Those strong arms looking as if they were smeared with scent oil, his ass cheeks shining as the furious sunlight, his cock dangling between his toned legs, that ebony skin showing in all its glory: he dives in wet kisses, feels the other move beneath and then his dick is trapped, when his eyes open, the sight, he thinks, must be part of some genjutsu. Hashirama is on all fours, sucking Madara's hard cock, licking then massaging as if he was some kind of expert.
He can't contain himself. Clearly he's being very vocal in fact, and Hashirama is enjoying the hoarse tone of his voice because, cock still in his mouth, and that 'i'm-all-good-done-nothing-bad-inmylife' face, manages to smile cynically.
Shamelessly his sharingan is not activated to record the outrageous moment.
Shame.
They're outside, somewhere near the border of the village, trees surround them, the only witnessers of their lust, erotes. The Uchiha is not sure how many times he has exploded inside that mouth, but each time it happened his partner would make sure to swallow everything. Licking his cum very carefully, spilling nothing but his long hair over his broad shoulders.
It's just then he realizes. Sees the perfect proportions of his face, the beautiful color of his, the high cheeks, and the strands of hair falling down his forehead to touch discretely his stomach.
Hashirama's not just a handsome man, he's gorgeous, beautiful, a gentle being, a lover, a friend, past-enemy, his equal, a god, the god itself.
A few strokes from climaxing Hashirama leans to kiss him deeply, tongues exploring, devouring, consuming. Not able to be back to his task his hand reaches down, and again, Madara is losing his sanity.
Obscenely loud moans drown in each other's mouths. A few bumps of their hips and the end hits them like fire.
This time he doesn't qualm, Madara's sharingan will take this image and secure it from the whole world forever.
When he hears a breathy laugh he's quite sure he's say it outloud. Oh. Nevermind.
Fuck the meeting too, it will wait.