Chapter 3

The time soon came for Madara and Tobirama to perform in front of an audience.

Madara's act came first, and judging by the screams and applause that erupted the moment he led Kemuri into the ring – before they'd even done anything – Kazaru hadn't been mistaken about just how big of a draw a circus lion was. The performance went well. Kemuri, for all her quiet complaints about the the mission being below her, seemed to enjoy herself a lot. She snarled ferociously, and strutted about dangerously, and leapt through flaming rings with dramatic ease, letting her inner diva out. The crowd loved her, and Kemuri was feline enough to appreciate the praise she felt was her due.

After the 'lion' came other animals – monkeys juggling, elephants balancing on tiny stools, bears on unicycles, stunt riders on horseback – and after the animals, the ring was cleared, and it was Tobirama's turn.

Tobirama was merely one part of the performance, but the most important one. Around the ring, dancers danced, acrobats leapt and tumbled, and fire-eaters spun fiery battons before swallowing their flames. And in the center, on a raised stage, was Tobirama – the star of the show – dancing and twirling and twisting in ridiculously impressive ways. He moved slowly however, in notable contrast to the other performers. Drawing attention to every incredibly flexible motion.

Madara felt a little warm. It definitely wasn't the lights this time.

The whirling spotlights around the ring slowed and faded, the other performers likewise fading away, until all that was left was amber and blue and green lights shining down on Tobirama. The low light seemed to catch on his shimmering makeup, and on every sequin of his barely-there, skin-tight outfit. He was dressed in colours to match the lighting – blues and greens and purples – and combined with the way the spotlights wavered and rippled, it gave the stage a watery feeling.

Tobirama looked like some sort of undersea fae.

Two long, narrow, silk drapes fell from the darkness above, looking like nothing so much as seaweed in this underwater scene. As they swayed gently and slowly fell still, so too did Tobirama, like a moment frozen in time. The silence seemed to echo, and then a second spot of light lit up off to one side, revealing Kei and Rei. The silence broke gently as they began to sing, a beautiful, haunting, wordless melody that perfectly matched the otherworldly mood.

Tobirama took a deep breath, as if coming back to life – as if the music had brought him back to life – and began to move. He smoothly climbed one of the silk ropes, then somehow twisted upside down. His hands gripped the rope below him, one ankle wrapped in the rope above, and the other leg bent back, toe to head. Tobirama arched, and then he began to spin.

It was then that Madara finally realised what 'rope dancing' meant. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Not to say that Tobirama didn't look amazing – of course he did, he always did – but that ankle didn't look firmly attached at all, and Madara worried he might slip. That wouldn't normally be a concern. Ninja of their calibre could handle a fall from that height easily. But they were on a mission that required complete chakra repression, and Tobirama was too good a ninja to fail a mission easily. Oh, he wouldn't just let himself die, but even a single moment's hesitation could result in severe injury.

The spinning finally slowed to a stop, and Madara heaved a sigh of relief.

Tobirama climbed higher next, twisting upright and right-side up into various poses as he went, until he reached the top. His hands gripped above, while the rope wrapped around his upper thighs, and he arched forward. Madara unconsciously licked his lips, flushed red, because those ropes really highlighted his, er, well…

And then Tobirama let go.

Madara jolted to his feet, heart in his throat. He watched with horror as Tobirama tumbled end over end and side over side in an uncontrolled freefall. Oh gods! He was going to—

Be fine?

"Fuck," Madara whispered to himself, willing his heart to stop racing.

It was alright. It was okay. The fall hadn't been uncontrolled at all. Tobirama had gripped the lower end of the rope, and that had somehow kept it wrapped around one thigh as he tumbled. He wasn't broken on the ground, but had instead transitioned gracefully into that earlier pose, the upside-down one with a leg bent back, only this time with the rope wrapped around his thigh instead of an ankle.

The audience, which had gasped, now cheered. Madara barely heard them. All he could think was how, for a moment there, it had felt like… like he was about to lose something precious.

Like his heart was breaking.

"Fuck," he said again, heart now racing for an entirely different reason.

There was a river in Wind Country, winding through its capital. Madara had seen it a few times – a ripple of blue and green, of water and lush vegetation, cutting through the dry, unending sands. It was beautiful. And it was called the Nairu.

Madara wanted to go back there.

It was too late for that, though. Far too late for denial. Because, with the taste of near-heartbreak lingering on his tongue, Madara realised he wanted. Had been wanting for a while now. And not just on a surface level. It wasn't just physical attraction, which had whacked him upside the head when he was forced to acknowledge how devastatingly pretty the other man was.

No, it was more than that.

He wanted Tobirama.

He wanted to be able to admire him without outwardly denying it, as he had been, or yearning hopelessly, as he was beginning to. He wanted to kiss and hold and be held. He wanted to uncover all the other little secrets that had been hinted at as Tobirama danced around the truth. He wanted to know all there was to know about the other man, and to be known in return. He wanted them to be one another's shoulder to lean on when old griefs were shared. He wanted to share joys as well, to listen to Tobirama ramble about seals and experiments and to watch him go soft around children. He wanted the man as his partner, not just on a mission, but in life and love.

He wanted everything.

And yes, he also wanted to tap that. Or be tapped. He… wasn't picky.

What he was, he realised with a sinking feeling, was doomed. Because while Tobirama hadn't been above flirting with him of late – probably having noticed Madara's genuine interest before Madara himself did, he realised with mortification – that was just… empty teasing. Playful, and kindly meant, but not with intent. Right? No, he didn't think so. That would be hoping for too much.

So. Where did that leave him? Admiring from afar?

As Tobirama, after a brief twirl on the stage, leapt for one of the silken ropes again, climbing it with hands and pure chakra-less strength alone, biceps flexing, Madara was briefly distracted from his romantic woes. He swallowed hard as Tobirama somehow tangled one ankle in the rope he'd climbed, looped the other ankle in the second rope, and then let go, transitioning into a mid-air split suspended between the two.

Okay, maybe admiring from afar had its merits.

Lots of merits, really.

And bendiness.

Wow.

Utterly overwhelmed by Tobirama's performance, Madara felt his knees go weak. He slumped against the nearest wall in a vain attempt to retain something resembling dignity, or at the very least not collapse to the floor like a puddle of goo. Judging by the vaguely heard sound of Kemuri's hiccupping purr – all smug amusement – he had failed in that endeavour. It wasn't until the nearby elephant trainer gave an alarmed shout and yanked Madara away, that he realised the 'wall' had in actual fact been the lion cage bars.

"I get that you've got it bad for Tomomi, but gods, be more careful!" The other man's expression was torn between fading alarm, relief and hilarity. "You'll never get to fuck him if your lion tears your throat out first."

It was a good thing Madara had just admitted a certain hidden – extremely obvious actually! – truth to himself. Because he was so off balance that he defaulted to an automatic reaction, which until five minutes ago would have been loud, blistering – transparent – denial! Which would have blown his cover.

As it was, he just wheezed helplessly – a perfectly unsuspicious noise for a mute man to make – and waved a hand towards Tobirama, like 'Look at that! Can you blame me!?'.

The other man sent a speculative look Tobirama's way as he gripped one rope in each hand, holding himself upright and then horizontal to the ground without a single tremble, and then his legs curved back over his head, nearly folded in half.

Madara tried not to swallow his tongue.

"I guess I can see the appeal," said the man at his side, nodding slowly.

Madara's mouth dropped open in outrage— at himself! Bad enough that he'd just realised the depth of his infatuation and resigned himself to pining. But encouraging others to see how ridiculously attractive – and bendy! – Tobirama was? Possibly resulting in them pursuing him, which Madara would have to watch?

That was a whole new level of stupid.

Seeing his horrified reaction, the other man just rolled his eyes. "Relax," he said, clapping Madara's shoulder. "I might not be blind to the man's appeal, but I only go for women myself." When Madara slumped in relief, he laughed and turned, heading back to work tending his elephants, calling over his shoulder, "Be more careful around the cage!"

Madara nodded distractedly, attention already turned back to Tobirama, admiring the beauty, the grace – and yes, the bendiness.

In the end, the mission's resolution proved to be fairly anticlimactic.

Kei had been so obviously aware of something, right from the start, that Madara had half expected it to be a false lead – since when was a mission so straightforward? – but no, she and her sister were a crucial part of the plot, if more involved than expected.

The key clue came from Kazaru's investment in Madara, which brought him to the man's room the day after his and Tobirama's first show. Kazaru stopped by to fetch something, leaving Madara to linger near the entrance. Looking around, Madara spied a small shrine with incense and a picture set behind it – a picture of a younger Kazaru with a beautiful blond woman in his arms, gazing at one another adoringly, with an identical blond woman to one side rolling her eyes and grinning.

Both women had jewel-bright green eyes.

Just like Kei and Rei.

It was the last piece of the puzzle. The mission scroll had mentioned that the biggest flaw in the 'Kazaru is a Chikaku' theory was that some of the information had to have been sourced from locations where a grown man simply couldn't have gone unnoticed – places where only women were permitted. With some confidence that the last uncertainly had been resolved, Madara and Tobirama were authorised to throw discretion to the wind.

It only took Tobirama a few seconds, once he called up his chakra again, to reach out with his sensory abilities and confirm the relation between the twins and Kazaru, their father.

Unfortunately, doing so somehow immediately tipped them off, and they had to work fast to capture their targets. Simple enough. Or it should have been – they were information brokers, not combat specialists. But then the conjoined twins displayed a confounding and very unexpected ability to separate and darted off in different directions. For most ninja, that would have delayed capture simply due to basic logistics – two people weren't enough to simultaneously round up three, not when they'd all headed in different directions – but Tobirama's Shadow Clone Jutsu handily took care of that.

"Leave them alone!" Kazaru shouted, struggling wildly to free himself. His eyes were full of protective fear as he looked towards his daughters. "Please! It was me, all me, I swear!"

"We're not going to hurt them," Madara promised.

"Then let them go!"

"We can't do that," Tobirama said. "Our mission requires us to deliver you all to the Frost daimyō."

Kazaru paled. Kei and Rei did likewise, the former trying to cover with a glare, but the latter with tears in her eyes as she blurted, "We're so sorry, we didn't know—"

"Rei, shut up!" Kei snapped desperately.

Madara and Tobirama exchanged confused looks. The mission scroll had obviously left something out, for them to react in such a way. That wasn't merely a fear of being caught – it was fear of being caught by Frost's daimyō in particular.

Nonetheless, a mission was a mission, so they hauled their captives deeper into the capital, keeping to the late evening shadows. Per the mission requirements, they entered the palace by a discrete side entrance, and were presented to the daimyō. The reputedly jovial man was grave as he looked down at the bound forms. Beside him stood an older woman with similar features, face lined with grief and fury. Her glare made the Chikaku family cower.

"I see you understand your position," the daimyō said. "My father is dead because of the information you sold."

At Madara's side, Tobirama sucked in a sharp breath.

They listened as the Chikaku family's crimes were revealed. It turned out that the women-only location which had been infiltrated was the private wing of the former daimyō's wife. The twins had posed as handmaidens, ferreted out a few juicy secrets, and passed them on to their father. Kazaru had then sold the information to a third party – a Lightning ninja who, it was strongly suspected, had in turn passed the information on to the Lightning daimyō.

The old Frost daimyō's death hadn't been as natural as reported, but instead a move in Lightning's campaign to annex Frost Country.

"Mother, at first, insisted you all be executed," the Frost daimyō continued, with a gesture to the coldly furious woman at his side, and Rei burst into tears. The daimyō's expression softened as he looked at her, but only a little. He was soon grave-faced again. "After some discussion with her and my counsellors however, she has agreed with me to commute your sentences – if," he added in a tone that brooked no compromise, "you take a place in my court, and vow your family and bloodline in service to the country you have wronged."

As the Chikaku family whispered together, discussing their options – though it was clear to anyone watching that they were going to agree, if only for survival's sake – the daimyō sent a discrete nod of thanks to the Konoha ninja. Behind them, the guards that had escorted them in quietly gestured for them to follow, and Madara and Tobirama let themselves be led away.

Once they'd visited the treasurer and been paid for the mission, they left the palace behind. The sun had finally set while they were inside, and night had fallen.

"I'd been wondering how he'd convince them to cooperate," Tobirama mused, as they walked down the cobblestone, lantern-lit streets, heading back toward the circus.

"Blackmail on that level is a solid motivator," Madara agreed, eyes lingering on the way the light turned Tobirama's hair a soft gold.

"Hmm. And that was definitely a test."

"Test?"

"Letting us know the truth? The daimyō's been claiming his father's death as a natural one. Sensible – knowing the man was murdered would've been a blow his people's morale, and their faith in the leadership. But there was no reason for him to let us in on the secret unless it was a test."

Madara frowned, not a fan of politics, but not ignorant to them. "To see how serious we are about accepting the proposed peace treaty. To see if we'll keep the secret."

"Exactly."

"We'll have to tell Hashirama – and the Fire daimyō probably – but apart from that…"

"It's more beneficial to keep quiet, yes." Tobirama nodded. Then he tilted his head curiously. "Do you know, I suspect that the Chikaku bloodline functions by reading spiritual chakra. It makes sense, both that lies would be reflected there, and also to explain how they realised what we were the moment I used chakra. They're probably all natural sensors to some degree."

Madara hummed vaguely. It did make sense, he supposed, but he wasn't very interested. No, that wasn't quite right. He was very interested, at least in listening to Tobirama talk and hearing his thoughts, but not so much about the mission in particular. Because really, it had been anticlimactic in the end.

…It was possible, likely even, that the mission only seemed unmemorable when held in comparison to Madara's life-altering romantic epiphany.

Over the course of this mission, Madara had moved past denial and realised he was utterly in love with Tobirama. It was a joyful yet bittersweet realisation. Everything else paled in comparison.

They left in the dead of night. They'd met some nice people, but they'd done it while lying, while being 'Tomomi' and 'Masaru', and that wasn't the sort of thing that translated to lasting friendships. No need for goodbyes. They simply packed up and snuck out, meeting up in a clearing in the woods just outside the capital.

The mission was over, and it was time to head home.

There was only one problem. Kemuri felt she deserved a reward for her excellent aid, even beyond the expected tuna, and her request was… odd.

"What?" Madara said flatly.

Kemuri repeated herself. "I'm keeping the mane. Just that, not the whole lion look." And then she stared, like she absolutely expected Madara to fulfill this request – demand, let's be honest – post-haste.

Madara threw a helpless look towards Tobirama, who hummed thoughtfully.

"I could alter the collar's transformation parameters, but—"

Kemuri interrupted, tail flicking. "I do not like the collar. I tolerated it for the mission, but it is undignified for a cat. We are not dogs to be leashed. An alternative is required."

"I doubt you'd want to pierce your ears with anything – no, thought not – but I suppose I could make a cuff that fits around a paw?" Tobirama shook his head. "Except they all share the same problem. It would have to draw from you, not us. And while the drain would be less with fewer changes, it would still be constant. You don't have my large reserves, or Madara's frankly ridiculous ones. You'd have to be very careful to remove it if injured, low on chakra, and as a precaution before you go to sleep. It could drain you dry while you're not paying attention, and you'd just never wake up."

Madara blanched. "Is that why it's a secret jutsu? I've been wondering why Anbu don't use it as standard for their undercover ops."

Tobirama nodded, brow creased with faint frustration. "Anbu tend to be particularly reckless with their health and safety, verging on self-destructive. I don't trust them to be careful with it."

"Fair."

Kemuri hissed very faintly, clearly displeased. She obviously had her heart set on the mane. She flopped down on the ground, only to perk up a moment later and happily declare, "Green! Hair!"

For once, Tobirama was as clueless as Madara. How novel.

Kemuri rumbled. "With the glowy green hands, and the fast-growing hair. If you can do it for yourself, and the kitten soon enough, why not for me?"

"Doesn't hair have a limit as to how long it can grow?" Madara said. Because there was a reason Izuna only had that narrow ponytail in the back while the rest was short. He'd initially been trying to mimic Madara's look, only to realise that his own hair wouldn't grow out with the same thickness. In a fit of stubbornness, he'd then refused to cut off the parts that had grown, and pretended the thin ponytail was his intention all along.

Tobirama stood, crossing the room. "Normally you'd be right. Each follicle has a lifespan – how long it will grow before shedding – and speeding up growth generally shortens that time inversely, so you still can't get it any longer than it's inclined to be. However…" He knelt in front of Kemuri, raising green-glowing hands questioningly. She purred and set her chin in his lap. He petted her neck, and the hair there began to sprout longer. "…I figured out a work-around at Tōka's demand."

Madara watched as Kemuri's mane took shape. "Is that why hers is so long?" He'd seen it out of that topknot only once, and surprisingly, it had fallen to her knees.

Tobirama chuckled, adjusting his work, adding length here and volume there. "Oh no, that's all natural. But she wanted to play Rapunzel once when we were young."

"Tōka – 'I will visit horrors upon you if you doubt me because of my sex' Tōka – wanted to play the damsel in distress?"

Kemuri, of a like mind regarding gender politics, hissed in disapproval.

Tobirama smirked. "Oh no, she wanted to be the handsome knight. Hashirama got the honour of being the fair damsel, with hair thrice his height, whom she rescued from a hastily built, somewhat crooked Mokuton tower."

"Wait, is that why his hair grew out from that ugly bowl cut between one battle and the next?" Because Madara, who had been in the process of growing his own at the time, had been infuriated at being inexplicably outshone when he hadn't even realised there was a competition going on.

"Well, we cut it a lot shorter after the game – albeit not as short as Hashirama whined for, because you're right, it was very ugly – but essentially yes, that's how it happened."

Madara huffed, crossing his arms, muttering under his breath about, "Cheating cheaters who cheat."

"But before that…" Lifting Kemuri's head to get under her jaw, Tobirama abruptly laughed. "I still remember his yelps as Tōka used his hair to climb the tower. And of course, once the handsome knight 'discovered' that her fair princess was actually an idiot prince with, and I quote, a 'dumb-looking face', she decided she didn't want to rescue him after all and went off to practice her genjutsu on the unwary."

"Of course she did," Madara said, dryly amused. Tobirama's sister was a nightmare.

"Hashirama, the idiot, spent a full hour crying and wailing up in his tower for someone to rescue him, before realising that actually, as a ninja, he could just jump out the window. It wasn't that high. I was happy to point out that he could also have wall-walked down the side. Or grown branches as a stepping ladder – the tower was his creation. Or cut off his hair and made a rope. Or— well, needless to say, I spent a few days coming up with more and more alternatives."

"While Hashirama grew increasingly more depressed?"

"Exactly. On the plus side, the kitchen appreciated the sudden influx of mushrooms that sprouted in his gloom."

Madara snorted.

"There." Tobirama pulled back. With naught but a twist of his wrist – which Madara tried not to be too obviously impressed by, biting back an infatuated sigh – he formed a perfectly flat sheet of water, angling it just right to catch the moonlight above and act as a mirror. "What do you think, Kemuri?"

Kemuri stood and shook her head, mane ruffling. It was the same smoky grey shade as the rest of her fur and surrounded her head in a thick ruff. It should have looked ridiculous – a house cat, no matter how oversized, with a mane – but actually, Madara realised, it looked kind of…

"Regal," Kemuri purred.

Yes, that.

"I am now a queen among cats."

Tobirama dipped his head, smile hiding in the quirked corners of his lips. "Weren't you always?"

Delighted, Kemuri purred loud and deep, the sound rumbling through the clearing. She butted her head against Tobirama's chest, almost knocking him over, causing the mirror to fall with a splash. He just laughed, running hands through her mane before gently shoving her aside to get to his feet, brushing away the stray cat hairs that clung to his clothes.

"I like this one, kitten," Kemuri declared, meeting Madara's gaze intently. "Mate him already, so he can join your clan and sign our contract."

Madara choked, face flushing red at once. "You can't just—! I don't—!"

"Oh, you do." Then she turned to Tobirama, expression conspiratorial, and Madara felt real dread. "He does. He smells like unfulfilled mating and soppy longing around you all the time. You should just pounce on him. He's too much a disaster to make the first move himself."

"Kemuri!" Madara shrieked, going for a tackle even though he knew he'd lose. And sure enough, within mere seconds, he was pinned flat on the ground, no thought given to his dignity.

He buried his face in his hands, afraid to look.

"…Oh really?" Tobirama drawled.

Madara dared to peek out between his fingers, and the look on Tobirama's face was… speculative?

How did he interpret that!?

He hid his face again.

"Honestly, kitten, how do you humans get anything done with your appallingly inferior sense of smell? You're so lucky to have me."

Madara whimpered, shaking his head. Lies!

"You are! Who else would point out that he clearly wants to mate you too?"

Madara's eyes shot wide, hands tearing away as he stared. He half expected Tobirama to look as mortified as Madara had, and was put out to find that not the case. Except no, not put out at all, because instead Tobirama was smiling – that smug, cocky smile Madara had rarely seen, and which was just as effective now as then in reducing Madara to a puddle of lust. More so! Because for the first time ever, it was directed at Madara. And also, he'd added a smirk to it, and a slight come-hither flutter of lashes, and—

Madara was dead.

He had melted.

Goodbye, cruel world.

Except fuck no, he wasn't dead! Not if Tobirama was giving him come hither looks! Not if Tobirama wanted him back!

He flailed. "Off, off, off!" he shouted at Kemuri.

She gave a rumbling, purring chuckle. "I'll just see myself out," she said, smug as only a cat could be. "You two have fun!" Then, with a poof of smoke, she reversed summoned herself and was gone.

Madara suddenly realised that he was alone with Tobirama. Tobirama who was still looking at him like that and was prowling closer in a slinky sort of feline manner and—

Tobirama leapt.

The world twisted.

Oof!

Flat on his back, Madara stared up at a half-familiar ceiling. It was the abandoned mountain cabin just inside Frost Country's borders, he realised. Tobirama must have used Hiraishin to teleport them there. But that wasn't important right now. No, he had a better question.

"…Did you just literally pounce on me?" Madara asked, and then his breath hitched as lips pressed to his throat.

"It was recommended. Objections?"

And Madara was frequently an idiot – he knew that, even if he'd never admit it out loud – but even he wasn't that stupid. "None whatsoever," he replied promptly.

Tobirama drew back, looking down at him all smug and smirky. "You want me."

Madara's hands settled on his hips. "I— I do." He frowned, just faintly. It was, it seemed, impossible to frown properly when he had a lapful of Tobirama. "I thought you knew? You've been teasing!"

"So offended," Tobirama chuckled. "As if you didn't like it." His smile softened, the second time he'd ever sent that one Madara's way, and just like the first time, it made Madara's thoughts stutter to a halt. "I knew you were attracted – a lovely, flattering realisation, and I admit I maybe let it go to my head, and yes, teased you mercilessly – but I didn't know you wanted me."

Wait, what? He knew Madara wanted him, but not that he wanted him? That made no sense! Madara's confusion must have been obvious, because Tobirama's lips quirked, smile shifting to the more usual one. And in hindsight, Madara admitted to himself, his having gone so far as to categorise the man's smiles really ought to have tipped him off to his romantic feelings a lot sooner.

"How did Kemuri put it? 'Soppy longing'?"

Oh! Madara suddenly understood, and was so thrilled by the understanding that he didn't even have time to be mortified by the reminder of Kemuri's unflattering phrasing. He sat up, cupping Tobirama's face as he searched his expression, needing to be sure, and let out a whoosh of breath when he saw the tender longing there. And then he smiled with all the delight he felt, which apparently was enough to make Tobirama's eyes go wide and sway into him, pressing his forehead to Madara's.

The temptation was too much to resist – Tobirama so close that his breath feathered over Madara's lips – and Madara crossed the small remaining distance to kiss him. It was sweet and gentle and the perfect first kiss, and when they parted, Tobirama was smiling softly again.

"You too?" Madara whispered, feeling giddy. "Not just base attraction, but— longing, and— you too?"

Tobirama sighed. "Yes, for a while now. But you never— sometimes it seemed like you might, but it wasn't until recently that I was even sure you were attracted, let alone more."

"Ah, that's probably… my fault." Madara flushed a little. "I might, maybe, have been deeply – yet extremely flimsily – in denial of the obvious? Possibly? For quite a while."

"Hence the mixed signals."

"Sorry."

Tobirama shrugged. "It's fine. I'm not exactly an open book myself. I doubt you had any more idea of my feelings than you did your own." His lips quirked, mischief in his eyes. "Kemuri's right. We are so lucky to have her to point out the obvious."

Madara gaped. "She can never know."

Tobirama laughed.

"No, really! She's bad enough as it is. The smugness would be too much to bear!"

"Oh?" Tobirama's smile shifted, sly and cocky and devastating. Madara swallowed hard – and felt himself grow hard, which, with Tobirama in his lap, wasn't discreet at all – and Tobirama leaned closer, all but draping himself over Madara, whispering in his ear. "I don't know, I expect you'll think Kemuri entitled to all the smugness she can muster, if it results in my following the rest of her plan."

"The rest?" Madara asked, voice raspy, and then choked towards the end as Tobirama rocked in his lap, and it became obvious that Madara wasn't the only one hard.

"Hmm. I've already pounced. I believe there was something about mating?"

The sound Madara made had probably never been heard from a human throat – because no other human had ever been so very turned on, Madara was sure.

Tobirama gave a husky laugh and kissed his throat, and then began to suck and bite, no doubt leaving a highly visible line of bruises down Madara's neck. Madara would probably be bothered by that later – torn between mortified self-consciousness and preening smugness of his own – but for now he was too busy enjoying it, tilting his head for easier access. His hands ran restlessly over Tobirama's back, then found his arse and took eager handfuls, tugging him closer, grinding. He groaned, and Tobirama stilled, mouth open against Madara's neck, panting as he rocked his hips with the motion.

With a sharp breath, Tobirama drew back. Before Madara could worry that he'd misstepped, Tobirama reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it up over his head. Madara's gaze swept appreciatively over bared chest and stomach, only to pause. Tobirama reached for Madara's shirt next, and made an impatient, frustrated noise when Madara didn't immediately cooperate, but stilled all the same.

"Madara?" he asked. "Too fast?"

"What? No! Definitely not. Just, can you…" He reached out, tugging at the bellybutton ring which had caught his eye. "I want to do this with you, not 'Tomomi'." Tobirama's expression softened. "I know the hair's not such an easy fix, but at least you'd be mostly in your own colouring, markings and all." He brushed a finger over Tobirama's chin, tracing the hidden tattoo.

"Actually…" Tobirama said, and raised hands alight with medical chakra to his head. His hair began to grow, not stopping until it was long enough to tug the remaining braid over his shoulder. A chakra scalpel cut just above where dyed-brown began, leaving only his natural colour. The pale strands fell around his face and over his shoulders, illuminated softly by the full moon's light spilling through the window.

It wasn't quite Tobirama – not the silly, inexplicably attractive dandelion puff Madara was familiar with – but it was close enough. Especially when Tobirama proceeded to tug out the bellybutton ring as well.

Madara paused for a moment as red lines faded back into view over chin and sharp cheekbones. Best of all, muddy brown eyes brightened back to their proper hue, ruby-red and so pretty.

"Pretty?" Tobirama asked, amused, and Madara realised he'd said that aloud, sighed it like a swooning maiden.

Urgh, Kemuri wasn't even here and his dignity was in tatters.

Flushed, Madara blustered. "It's not my fault you're stupidly attractive!" Wait, that made it worse! "I— I mean, not that I've noticed or anything!" Wait, no, he was no longer in denial. He had absolutely noticed. "Just— I—" He slapped a hand over his face. And then, on second thought, over Tobirama's instead, to cover that growing, smug – not sexy at all, nope – smirk. "Shut up! I'm an Uchiha! I can't help finding red eyes attractive!"

There, that was better. Composure found. Dignity reclaimed.

Except no, not at all. Because instead of removing Madara's hand, Tobirama grasped his wrist and turned his face in the palm, slipping his mouth over two of Madara's fingers and sucking. His eyes, lids lowered, met Madara's own, and the expression in them was wicked. And then – and then! – he reached for the ties of Madara's pants.

Madara sucked in a sharp breath. Fuck, okay. To hells with dignity. This was more than worth the price of losing it.

In a desperate blur of movement, Madara tore his shirt off, and both their pants somehow disappeared, and Tobirama had Madara on his back, knelt between his legs, kissing him. And then he was kissing down Madara's neck – leaving a few extra marks for Madara to alternately flail and preen over later – and then his chest and stomach, a long-fingered hand circling Madara's cock as Tobirama's head lowered, and—

He stopped.

Madara's hips arched, a whine escaping his lips, all thwarted arousal. Tobirama only petted his hip and sat back on his heels, looking down at Madara with a speculative look that made Madara flush.

"I noticed something," Tobirama said, tone casual. His nonchalance was undermined by the flush to his cheeks – spreading alluringly down his throat and chest – and also, most tellingly, by the sight of his very erect cock. Still, the tone was a taunt, and made even more so by the way Tobirama's hand stroked Madara's cock – slowly, lightly, enough to tease but not to satisfy.

"Tobirama," he complained, or tried to. It came out more aroused than chiding.

"I noticed," Tobirama continued, smile starting out quirked mischief, then spreading to cocky and smug. It made Madara's cock jerk in his grip, which made Tobirama's gaze dart down as he licked his lips, which did not help Madara's composure. "I noticed," he said again, a little breathlessly, "that you quite enjoyed my performances. And my training for them. The Plow Pose in particular. Do you recall it?"

Did he recall it? Of course he recalled it! Even without Sharingan, the sight was seared into Madara's memory. He had, after all, walked in on Tobirama on his back, bottom straight in the air, legs – somehow kept unbent despite the strain – thrown so far past his shoulders that his pointed toes touched ground a good foot or two past his head, and if he'd curled his hips forward just a little farther…

Well, needless to say, Madara's mind had slipped straight into the gutter. The skin-tight leggings – which hid nothing – hadn't helped his composure.

In a strangled tone, he'd demanded to know what the heck Tobirama thought he was doing!

"Yoga, Plow Pose," Tobirama had replied. Just that. As if it explained anything at all.

Madara still had a hard time believing chaste monks went about doing such scandalous poses. Because it had been scandalous. Even the name was scandalous in its suggestiveness. 'Plow' indeed!

He still wondered if Tobirama could—

"I can," Tobirama said.

Madara paused. "I didn't say that out loud this time." He was pretty sure of that.

"No, but the look on your face when you walked in on it? It was fairly obvious what you were thinking." Madara flushed at that. "And the answer is yes," Tobirama continued. "I can absolutely suck myself off like that. Maybe I'll show you sometime."

Madara made another of those inhuman sounds.

Tobirama laughed, then his eyes darted away. "But for now, since you're so clearly enamoured of the benefits of yoga – my flexibility and muscle control in particular – and because I'm genuinely torn between sucking you off, and fucking you – and since the aforementioned benefits can actually be combined to form a wonderful solution to my conundrum – I was wondering if you'd be amenable to me doing both simultaneously."

Madara gaped. Mind fogged with arousal, understanding came slowly, but when it hit, it hit with full force. "You're way too articulate right now," he said in a strangled tone.

"Is that a no?"

"No! I mean, yes. I mean— is— are you actually suggesting— can you really—?"

"Suck you off, and fuck you, at the same time?"

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Madara felt a little faint.

"Yes?"

"Fuck yes."

Tobirama laughed again, and then got to it. Madara had no idea where the lube came from, but it wasn't really a priority, not when he was busy rocking onto the fingers stretching him open, impatiently demanding "more" and "faster" and "get in me already!". Tobirama obliged him, cock sliding in smooth and perfect, and it was gratifying the way Tobirama had to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to adjust before he began to thrust.

Madara groaned, enjoying it, but he had been promised something more, and he was not going to get distracted. Absolutely not!

Not… not much.

Okay, so he was distracted for quite a while before he managed to gasp out, "Your mouth – you said."

"I did, didn't I," Tobirama agreed, licking his lips, the tease. He shifted to a kneeling position without slipping out. Then his abdominal muscles visibly rippled as he curled forward and wrapped his mouth around Madara's cock.

"Fuck," Madara gasped, tossing his head back, staring blankly at the ceiling as he adjusted to the double stimulation.

With a throaty hum, which made Madara gasp, Tobirama began to move. He couldn't thrust deeply, not and still reach Madara's cock, but he seemed perfectly satisfied with short, sharp thrusts, somehow curling his hips just right. Inwardly, Madara cursed and blessed all Tobirama's previous lovers – and there must have been many, or at least much practice with a select few – because fuck if he didn't appreciate the accumulated skill. But also? He kinda hated that anyone else had been allowed to be at Tobirama's mercy this way.

At some point, Madara ended up with one leg over Tobirama's shoulder. The other draped over his thigh in a possessive gesture, wanting to touch as much skin as possible. Madara's hands cradled the back of Tobirama's head, fingers threading through pale, silken hair, and when he came, his gripped tightened. Tobirama moaned, hips jerking, and followed him over the edge.

Tobirama released his cock and pressed his forehead to Madara's stomach, panting.

"Come here," Madara murmured, drawing him up into his arms until Tobirama was sprawled across him, face in the crook of Madara's neck. "Gods, that was…"

"Hmm. Circle Serpent."

Madara blinked. "What?"

"The position. It was Circle Serpent."

"Oh," Madara said blankly. "I was trying to say it was amazing actually, not—"

"Well, yes, but that part was obvious," Tobirama drawled smugly, and pressed a lingering kiss to Madara's neck that made him shiver, briefly distracted.

"Ye— wait!" Madara drew back enough to turn his head and stare at Tobirama. "Position?"

"Yes?"

"Like— like yoga position?"

Tobirama smiled at him, quirk-lipped and mischief-eyed. "What do you think?"

"Those randy monks," Madara breathed, awed and horrified in equal measure.

Tobirama just laughed.

TBC…

Chapter Notes:

No, 'Circle Serpent' is not a yoga position – just a sex position. Tobirama chose not to correct Madara because it was funnier that way.

The Nairu = the Nile = denial. (Sorry, overused joke is overused.)

This chapter in particular had huge chunks of plot cut out. There was gonna be more of a thing about the twins being able to separate. Yes, they were meant to be somehow related to Sakon and Ukon, and there was a thing about their maternal clan, and Rice Country, which was part of the political situation with Lightning and had further implications for Fire and… urgh. It was too complicated. So now their maternal clan is a little surprise cameo and not a big deal. (There was also Tragic Backstory™ for Kei, which Rei was either not present or conscious for, explaining their different personalities. But again, too complicated.)

More importantly, I promised smut, and I have delivered! The last bit of denial has shattered, mutual confessions were made, and Madara finally got to experience the true advantage of Tobirama's bendiness – creative sex! Cue happily ever after.

Speaking of which, only a short epilogue to go!