He groaned, burrowing deeper into his pillow. There was—something. Something bothering him. Something… tickling him, on his shoulders. Something warm and light and fucking annoying.
He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask?
He batted vaguely in the direction of the thing, trying to make it stop. He didn't hit anything, he didn't think, but it did stop.
For a second. A blessed, brilliant second, where he relaxed just enough to drift off again.
And then he was pulled sharply back to wakefulness when the thing pressed hard against his shoulder and he realized he knew what it was.
"Tobirama!"
He felt more than heard the chuckle that answered him, his stupid partner still pressing his mouth and fucking teeth against Madara's shoulder. Asshole.
"Good, good, you're awake." Oh, that bastard, the gall of him, Madara was going to fry his food today, he swore… "Up. I need your input for an experiment."
Of course he did. He scoffed, shaking the stupid man off him so he could roll onto his back. "And couldn't you wait until a normal hour for that…?"
Those terrible — and unfairly beautiful — eyes stared back at him with that dreaded mix of excitement and impatience and the not-so-subtle 'are-you-stupid?' look that Madara had grown unwillingly familiar with these past months of… their thing.
"I require your input, Madara."
Translation: he could, but he wouldn't, because that would have meant waiting to finish his experiments, and that wouldn't do. Of course.
Goddamn genius. Madara should stop allowing Tobirama entrance to his house when he wanted to sleep in.
"Couldn't you at least have woken me… I don't know. Some other way? Without biting me?"
Tobirama sniffed, looking like a disgruntled cat; it shouldn't be as cute as it was, but Madara was unfortunately aware that he tended to think everything Tobirama did was cute, even when what Tobirama was doing was in direct opposition to whatever Madara wanted.
"I did try. You weren't responding to my nicer attempt."
Nicer attempt? Oh. The tickling. Oh… oh.
"Well. I am awake now," Madara said deliberately, staring Tobirama in the eye. "And if you really want my input, I guess I need some encouragement."
Tobirama rolled his eyes — the dramatic bastard —, but did, in fact, lean down with a hand on Madara's shoulder. "If I do this, you'll help me. Now."
Madara grunted an agreement, much busier raising a hand to tangle in Tobirama's hair.
"I need your word, Madara," Tobirama chided, keeping in place by sheer force when Madara tried to pull him closer.
Madara sighed. "I promise, dear. Now, kiss me."
Tobirama smirked lightly — and then Madara had his arms full of his partner, those red eyes too close in a too fast moment, and his thoughts-…
Short circuited, he'd think later. Right then, however, he was busy. Tobirama always approached their kisses just as he approached everything else: single-mindedly, focused on being the best at it, with enough precision and patience to achieve the perfect result. It wasn't Madara's own approach, he'd admit, but it was incredibly hot nonetheless.
Fucking bastard.
It was a good way to wake up, however. He might even forgive Tobirama… if he got another kiss or two before getting out of this bed.