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“Hashi, please! Don’t you have a cousin or someone you know that can pretend to be my date for the wedding? It’s bad enough to go to any other social function with my family alone, but a wedding…? That’s going to be hell! Everyone is in a matchmaking mood because they will take one look at Myoko and Fuugetsu being all lovey dovey and want to spread that around!” Madara was not above begging at this point. He would take spending a whole weekend with some vapid cousin of Hashirama’s over listening to his aunts waxing poetic about their friends’ daughters, or, since he came out as gay, their sons.
Which, that was something he probably should mention. “Any guy will do, as long as he looks relatively decent in a suit and has basic table manners!”
At that, Hashirama’s eyebrow arched up, and he grinned. “You finally came out to them?!”
Squirming a little, cheeks turning hot, Madara looked off to the side. “Ah, well, sort of. It… kind of just came out by itself.”
“You got drunk and blurted it, didn’t you?” Hashirama was giggling like a schoolgirl, and Madara glared at him, but he couldn’t deny it. That was exactly what had happened. They had been out drinking, Kurohime had drooled over a guy one table over, and Madara had imperiously informed her that the guy had a boyfriend, because he’d seen the two of them at the local gay bar. The eye-candy had quickly been forgotten in light of this revelation, and Madara had given in and confessed.
Which was why he now needed a male date. He waited patiently for Hashirama’s mirth to subside, hoping that there would be light at the end of the tunnel.
Sobering up a little, Hashirama suddenly turned thoughtful. “Well, Tobirama is back from university now. I can bribe him into going with you.”
Nevermind, the light was an oncoming train!
“Your little brother?! Hashi, is he even legal?” Madara flopped backwards on the tatami.
Hashirama leaned over the small table, frowning. “Of course he’s legal. Wait, why does that matter?!”
“Because if my date can’t even drink alcohol, people are gonna talk!” Madara glared up through his bangs.
“Oh! Right, well, I know you’ve never really bothered to learn which of my brothers are called what, but Tobirama is the oldest of them. He’s twenty-three, so that should be fine, right?”
With Madara being twenty-six, that was not a problem. He had worried that Tobirama was the genius one that had gone off to university at fifteen. The annoying know-it-all. Which… had admittedly been some years back. Just to check, he asked, “How old are your brothers now?”
“Tobi is, like I just mentioned, twenty-three. Itama is twenty-one, and Kawarama is seventeen.”
“And… Which one was the genius one?”
“Tobi.”
Crap, that meant the skinny runt with the round glasses and the dandelion puff of hair would be his date. Well, that still beat having to listen to his aunts. Or worse, his dad asking when he was going to supply them with grandchildren. You’d think they would focus more on Myoko, given that she was about to be married, but no, somehow it was Madara’s duty to pass the line on, as the eldest son. Stupid, sexist traditions.
Resigning himself to being ridiculed for his taste in men, Madara said yes to Hashirama’s idea.
⁂
“I’ll forgive you for killing the plant I gave you if you do this for me. Uh, for Madara I mean.”
Tobirama narrowed his eyes. This had to be important to him if Hashirama offered up that. Prodding, he asked, “You mean you will never bring it up again?”
“I swear.”
“And all I have to do is go with your friend to this luxury hotel out in Land of Hot Water and pretend to be his date for the weekend, while his sister gets married?”
“Yes. The room, the food, it’s all covered. And you can borrow my suit.”
“No thanks, I’ll ask dad if I can take one of his.”
“Rude.”
“Anija, you are three centimeters taller than me and wider over the shoulders. They won’t fit.” It was a good excuse, but the real reason was that their father had infinitely better taste than Hashirama.
Still, spending a weekend at a luxury hotel, eating fancy food, and getting to soak in an onsen… It was a far cry from what Tobirama had been planning to do that weekend. So he agreed. “Fine. You forget about the dead plant, and I’ll help your friend out.”
Hashirama grinned from ear to ear. “You won’t regret it!”
⁂
Madara was regretting everything.
He had gone over to Hashirama’s place to pick up Tobirama, expecting a skinny guy with big glasses. What he got was almost a heart-attack, and as close to a boner as he’d had in Hashirama’s vicinity since he had been in his early, awkward teens. Tobirama did not look like Madara remembered him.
Somehow, in the years since he had last seen Hashirama’s oldest brother, Tobirama had grown taller, filled out, and lost the ugly glasses, replacing them with some narrow-framed designer ones. In place of awkward and gangly stood an Adonis in fitted pants that highlighted just how long and strong those legs were, as well as a short-sleeved linen shirt that showed off not only what an amazing shape Tobirama’s chest had, but also put his very delectable arms on full display.
Including the classic Senju clan tattoos that somehow looked downright sexy on Tobirama, where they had just looked a bit weird on Hashirama. Probably because the design Tobirama had gone for was sleeker, and the color a vivid red rather than the muted browns Hashirama had chosen, making the elder brother’s tattoos almost blend in with his skin-color.
Madara found himself wondering if the lines on Tobirama covered all of his body like Hashirama’s did. Then he remembered that the hotel they were staying at had a connected onsen. And that he would be sharing a room with Tobirama. Madara’s tongue promptly struggled to form words.
They made it out into the car without further issues, Tobirama throwing his leather bag into the back of the car and sinking into his seat with a grace that made Madara’s little problem just that much harder.
Foregoing the usual hug in goodbye, Madara just quickly waved at Hashirama and made a half-assed excuse about not wanting to be late. Then he climbed into his car before Hashirama could decide to grab that hug anyway and make things awkward. Well, more awkward.
Tugging discreetly on his pants, Madara started the car and spun out of the driveway.
The first five minutes passed in semi-awkward silence, then Tobirama dug a book out of his bag and opened it. Madara was relieved, focusing on the road, and on willing his boner to go down. How was he going to survive a whole weekend without falling to the temptation of pushing Tobirama up against a wall and smashing their lips together?
⁂
Madara was not like he remembered him. Or, well, it was more correct that he was physically not like Tobirama remembered him. His behavior seemed to be much the same. Awkward, abrupt, bumbling. It was obvious why Hashirama and Madara were friends.
Still, Tobirama couldn’t deny that the appearance of Madara had grown more appealing over the years. Where he as a teenager had favored too big t-shirts and baggy pants, Madara now wore tailor-made shirts, and pants that actually flattered his figure. He had also replaced the ratty sneakers with some nice dark brown loafers.
Even his hair looked better, like he was actually doing more than washing it with 3-in-1 soap. Yeah, pretending to be Madara’s date could actually be fun.
An hour later, they were driving across the plains just before the border to Land of Hot Water when it occurred to Tobirama that they should probably discuss the rules for the weekend before they got there. He marked his place in his book and closed it, tilting his head to glance at Madara. “How do you feel about physical touch?”
The car swerved. As soon as he had straightened it up again, Madara’s eyes flickered over towards Tobirama with obvious shock. “What?!”
Realizing that he should probably have phrased it better, he corrected himself. “I mean, for our act. If we are to make it believable, should we not be touching? Like, holding hands or things like that?”
He was unable to determine just what the expression that had flickered across Madara’s features had been, but the Uchiha quickly nodded. “Yeah, that would make it more believable. My family would expect me to, you know, be touchy-feely with a boyfriend.”
“Okay.” Tobirama nodded. Then he glanced at Madara’s face once more. “What about kissing?”
The car swerved again, but less than the first time. Madara swore. Then he fell silent, and Tobirama thought the topic had been closed. Until about two minutes later, when Madara hesitantly told him that, “I suppose, if there is a situation where it would not be out of place, we could do that. But not all the time. There are limits to the amount of PDA my family will find believable from me.”
Deciding that he had enough information for now, and that any other discussions could wait until Madara was no longer driving, Tobirama nodded. “Limited amounts of PDA, when the situation calls for it. I can do that.” Then he picked up his book again, closing the conversation for now.
⁂
Madara would not have wanted to admit it, but given the way he had reacted, Tobirama must have guessed that the thought of doing anything intimate with him was not something that Madara had troubles imagining. No, he was already running through scenarios in his mind where he could make use of Tobirama’s apparent willingness to engage in such activities. Perhaps he could run his fingers through Tobirama’s soft-looking hair?
Then he cursed himself for thinking along those lines. The reason he had tried to limit it in the first place was that this was Hashirama’s little brother. But… Fuck was he hot! How was it possible that someone related so closely to Hashirama could look that sexy? Did the rest of the body follow up the promises that his face made? Did he have a little treasure trail of white hairs? Would it even be visible, or would he have to find it by touch? … No! Bad Madara! Not thinking that!
The rest of the drive to the hotel was a roller-coaster of fantasizing and self-castigation. Madara couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so tired after a drive. All he wanted to do was check in, and fall face first into the bed, to take a long nap.
Stopping in front of the entrance, Madara popped open the trunk, and groaned as he found that his bag had tipped over on its side, spilling a lot of the contents. Tobirama grabbed his bag, then he waited patiently while Madara stuffed his things back into the bag, trying to not blush over the fact that his underwear was one of the things that had fallen out. Fortunately the more… private items had been stuffed at the bottom of the bag.
Slamming the trunk closed, Madara tossed the key to the valet, then he led Tobirama into the foyer, to figure out which room they had been given.
⁂
Watching Madara rummage around in the back of his car had been a little entertaining. The way that ass moved could give a man ideas. And what an ass it was. The way the fabric stretched taut over it… Could he find an excuse to slap it at some point? Perhaps if he pretended to get drunk during the party? Surely, Madara would not find it strange that his loving boyfriend would want to touch it?
Movement off to the side drew his attention, and a dark-haired woman gave him a quick smirk before she disappeared into the hotel. Not thinking much more of it, Tobirama returned his attention to Madara’s ass, only to watch with a little disappointment as the owner of said ass straightened up and the clothes fell in such a way that it was partially hidden again.
He followed Madara into the hotel foyer, and caught a woman mentioning Madara’s name. With a sinking feeling, he realized that the woman that had caught him ogling Madara’s ass, was Madara’s sister.
“...he could barely pull his eyes away from nii-san’s ass!”
Ahead of him, Madara froze, then twisted his head to stare wide-eyed at Tobirama. What could he do, he was already caught, so he just gave a little smirk and a shrug. This was his entertainment for the weekend, so he might as well lean into it. “Well, you do have a really nice ass, darling.”
By then, the two other people talking to Madara’s sister had noticed them, and overheard his comment. The woman smirked, while the man looked long-suffering. Giving a small huff, Madara tipped his head in their direction, informing Tobirama, “My sister, Kurohime. Not the one that is getting married. The other two are my cousins, Hikaku, and his sister Kagome.” He turned back, gave them a very curt bow, “This is Senju Tobirama, my boyfriend. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I want to get us checked in so I can put my bag in the room. It’s kind of heavy.
Tobirama arched an eyebrow, letting his eyes sweep over Madara’s arms, not truly buying that Madara was finding the bag all that heavy.
Unable to resist, he leaned closer to Madara’s ear, whispering just loud enough for the sound to carry, “You didn’t complain about my weight yesterday.”
A very satisfying flush spread over Madara’s cheeks and the visible ear, and the Uchiha started to walk rapidly towards the counter, forcing a snickering Tobirama to scurry to follow.
⁂
Behind them, Kagome gave Kurohime a wide-eyed look and said in a low, disbelieving tone, “How the fuck did Madara convince such a hunk to date him?!”
Kurohime was shaking her head slowly. “I have no idea. Do you think he has a brother?”
Hikaku, ever the voice of reason, smacked the back of Kurohime’s head. “Behave yourself. You don’t want to ruin things for Madara now that he has finally managed to get himself into a relationship that is stable enough that he’s actually willing to introduce us to the man.”
Blushing and pouting, Kurohime defended herself. “I wasn’t actually gonna ask. I was just curious.”
“Good. Now, I think Tajima-oji-san is in the bar, so I’m gonna join him.”
With that, Hikaku turned on his heel, walking out. Behind his back, Kurohime and Kagome exchanged an amused look. For all that Hikaku was more sensible than them both, he was still a huge fan of gossip, and he wanted to be the first to inform Tajima that Madara had indeed brought a date.
Eager to see the reaction to that bit of news, the two women hurried after Hikaku.
⁂
Pulling the keycard out of the lock and pushing the door open, Madara let out a sigh of relief. Just inside he kicked his shoes off and put on the complimentary slippers, shuffling into the room proper. Where he promptly paused. There was just one bed.
Granted, it was huge, but still. Why had he not thought to check what kind of room his father had reserved for him? He had just assumed it would be a double. That his father would not encourage any… ah… noise-complaints.
No, this had to be his mother’s hand at play. Had she been the one to pick the room, or had she persuaded Tajima to let him share a bed with his beloved? In either case, Madara couldn’t complain. It would look weird. Would lead to suspicious questions. Especially in light of Tobirama’s comment just ten minutes earlier. There was no way Madara could claim that they were waiting until marriage after that.
He turned to make excuses to Tobirama, but found that the other man had dumped his bag on one of the suitcase stands, and was looking at the bed with a big grin. “Oh, that looks really comfortable!”
Madara’s mind did a weird thing where it was forcefully redirected, spinning for a loop. Tobirama had no complaints? What? How? He would be sharing that bed with Madara, so… Was he really fine with it? Not sure if he wanted to know if this was something Tobirama regularly did, but finding himself unable to not ask. “You don’t find it… uncomfortable to share a bed?”
One of Tobirama’s eyebrows arched up in an expression somewhere between confused and judging. “No? Why should I?” Then it looked like he thought better of it, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You don’t kick in your sleep, do you?”
“What? No! I just… I mean, surely Hashirama told you? That I’m gay, I mean? You don’t find that… awkward?”
Tobirama’s head tilted and for a drawn out moment, he stared at Madara as if he waited for something. When Madara didn’t do anything more than look confused, Tobirama finally took pity on him, explaining, “I guess anija didn’t tell you—I’m also gay.”
Madara had two simultaneous reactions—The first being utter disbelief that he was finding himself in this situation, fake dating someone who looked like he had been created specifically to cater to Madara’s most depraved fantasies. The second was fury at Hashirama for putting him in this situation in the first place, where he dangled such a temptation in front of Madara, knowing that he could not take it. How could Madara even consider defiling Hashirama’s little brother? But… That was exactly what he was doing, wasn’t it? What he had been considering for hours already.
Running a hand through his hair, feeling it snag on tangles, Madara growled, “That asshole!”
He didn’t elaborate, just walked over to the second suitcase stand, dumping his bag there, before turning to the bed, declaring to the room. “I’m taking the left side.”
With that he walked over and let himself fall heavily down onto the mattress, closing his eyes.
There was silence for a little while, then soft noises of Tobirama unpacking his bag, the clink of coat-hangers reminding Madara that he too should hang up his suit to prevent it from wrinkling, but he was just too tired. The bed was too comfortable, and it didn’t take long before he was asleep.
⁂
Tobirama finished unpacking, then he glanced towards the bed. Madara was definitely asleep. Taking the chance, he grabbed a second set of clothes and walked into the bathroom. It was large and spacious, with a shower that could easily fit two. Washing off the uncomfortable feeling of having spent too long sitting still in a car, Tobirama then spent a little time grooming himself, before he put on the clean clothes.
Coming out of the bathroom he found Madara still asleep. Not eager to just sit and read after having been sitting in the car for so long, Tobirama decided to explore the hotel and the surroundings. He left a note for Madara, saying where he was, then, after realizing that he didn’t have Madara’s phone number, he left his, telling Madara to send him a text when he woke up so he would have Madara’s number then.
That done, he changed out of his slippers and grabbed the second keycard, stuffing it into his pocket. Then he walked out of the room, leaving Madara to his nap.
He had explored most of the various areas open to the public, and even peered into the grand ballroom, where presumably the party the next day would be held. It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that the Uchiha were filthy rich. How had Hashirama even gotten to know Madara? They should have been moving in completely different circles.
Half tempted to send Hashirama a message to ask, Tobirama quickly thought better of it. If Hashirama thought Tobirama was displaying any interest in Madara, he would become insufferable. No, better to ask Madara himself once he woke up. But Tobirama’s phone had remained quiet.
Crossing the ballroom and heading out through one of the large French doors and into the garden, Tobirama found some of the hotel staff there, hanging up lanterns at various spots. More preparations for the wedding?
Walking around the hotel building, he found the path that led towards the onsen, and decided that it would be a nice way to spend the rest of the evening. Though, he should probably ask Madara if he wanted to join him. They were supposed to be a couple after all.
Entering the hotel again, he was spotted by Madara’s sister, with a few other people in tow. Recognizing only the cousins he had been introduced to earlier, but assuming the other people had to be related to Madara as well, given their features, Tobirama plastered on a smile and dug out his most polite manners.
That turned out to be a good idea, as he was introduced to more cousins, an aunt, and Madara’s brother, Togakushi.
After the introductions were out of the way, Kurohime asked him where Madara was, and, not really trying to make it sound indecent, he informed her, “Madara is taking a nap. He was utterly exhausted.”
She glanced up at his hair, still slightly damp from his shower earlier, then at the clothes, which were clearly not what he had worn when they arrived earlier, and her lips curled up into a smirk. “Exhausted, eh? Well, clearly you have more stamina.”
Realizing what she implied, Tobirama’s cheeks heated up and he floundered for something to say. He was saved by Togakushi slapping the back of Kurohime’s head. “Don’t be so crude!”
Tobirama was grateful. Until Togakushi added, “It’s not Madara’s fault that he’s a wimp.”
At that point, Tobirama bowed out, making some half-assed excuse and high-tailing it to the stairwell, climbing up the stairs fast to burn some of that embarrassed energy.
When he slipped into the room and slammed the door behind himself, leaning against it, it was to find Madara standing there with a bemused expression. For a moment, they just looked at each other, then Madara asked, “Did you run into Kuro-chan again?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
As if that was all the explanation Madara needed, he gave a small nod and turned back into the room, shuffling over to his bag. “Since the ceremony and party is tomorrow, if we want to visit the onsen, it’ll have to be today, or Sunday. Or we can do both?”
Given that he had been planning to go there before he ran into Madara’s relatives, Tobirama sagged in relief. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“We have an hour until supper is served, so that should be enough I think. Though, I suppose we can be late for dinner today.”
Thinking how Kurohime would be likely to take that, Tobirama shook his head. “No. Your sister…”
Wrinkling his nose, Madara sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pushing that out of his mind, Tobirama looked towards his bag. “What do I need to bring?”
Madara shrugged. “Nothing? They have everything we need at the onsen.”
“What? Everything? What about deodorant?”
“As I said, they have everything there.”
“Okay.” Tobirama might have sounded a little meek. Was this what it was like to be filthy rich? You could just show up at a place and they would supply you everything you might need? He didn’t know. He had been a student for so long that he had halfway forgotten what it was like to be in the real world, and even before his studies, the Senju had never been rich.
Oh, they did fine, economically. None of them had ever had to go hungry, or wear hand-me-downs if they didn’t want to, but… They weren’t rich.
He followed Madara to the onsen, and fortunately they didn’t run into any other Uchiha on the way there.
Once inside, they were given a private bath, fenced in by bamboo and tall ferns, making it feel like a private little spot in a forest. Tobirama scrubbed himself down despite already having taken a shower earlier. It was only polite after all. Then he hurried out and sank down into the water with a groan. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wooden headrest. Moments later, he heard Madara padding across the stone tiles, and he glanced up. Then he swallowed.
Madara was naked. Obviously. Except, Tobirama had not actually been prepared for that. Had not considered what it meant that they would be taking a bath together. That Madara would be sitting in the water with him, so close that Tobirama could see the droplets of water pebbling on Madara’s skin. Also, he had not been prepared for the brief glimpse of Madara’s ass before it was submerged underwater. Nothing could have prepared him for that sight.
Oh, he had been staring at it earlier, thinking it was nicely shaped, but that was when it was covered in cloth. Now he’d had an unobstructed view, and, with fear of sounding crass, that ass was juicy. It was the kind of ass that could have made big bucks starring in gay porn. The kind of ass Tobirama would be having dreams about.
With mounting horror, he realized that his easy acceptance of the fact that their room only had one bed had been premature. What if he had a dream about Madara’s ass while sharing a bed with Madara? What if he touched Madara’s ass while asleep? What if he had a wet dream? What if…?
Tobirama threw a quick glance down through the water, at his own lap. Well, damn, his cock had just twitched. Even half-panicked about it, Tobirama was getting hard thinking about Madara’s ass.
With a soft groan he squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to think about something else.
⁂
Hearing that groan, Madara bit his tongue. Tobirama was really enjoying the bath, but Madara dearly hoped he would not be making more of those noises. It had sounded like something that he should absolutely not be thinking about while naked together with Tobirama. Which of course meant that his mind conjured up all sorts of scenarios where Tobirama would be making more of those noises, and even other, equally interesting ones.
Glancing at the younger man out of the corner of his eyes, Madara nearly groaned as well. Tobirama was a vision. All pale skin and taut lines. The clan tattoos did indeed spread across most of his body, and despite himself, Madara let his eyes follow the lines across that broad chest, past temptingly pink nipples, down, down, down, to… Oh, dear god! Tobirama was hung.
Well, fuck, that was it. There was no way Madara would not be having dreams about Hashirama’s little brother. How could he ever look Hashirama in the eye again after this?
He did not enjoy the rest of the visit to the onsen as much as he should have. Mainly because he was so hard that it hurt, and he was at the same time terrified that Tobirama would notice it. Thinking that he needed to get out of there and have a cold shower, Madara was mentally counting the time until he could pretend that it was because he was afraid of missing dinner, and not because he was lusting after his fake boyfriend.
Pretty soon he didn’t dare to delay it any longer, and slunk out of the water carefully, hoping to not disturb Tobirama. He drew a relieved breath when he made it to the shower and could turn on the cold water.
He was done showering and drying his mane of hair before Tobirama finally left the pool. By the time Madara looked up, Tobirama was already seated on the low stool, washing himself. It did give Madara an unobstructed view of Tobirama’s backside, and before he knew it, Madara had practically memorized the sight.
Well, he was fucked already, so what was one more thing that would send him to hell?
⁂
Dinner that day was a slightly awkward affair, as Kurohime had taken one look at the two of them when they entered the dining hall, and incredulously asked, “Again?”
Togakushi snorted wine out through his nose, and Tajima had given his middle son a judgmental stare while Sora had looked between Kurohime and Madara, before her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Madara, clearly trying to be polite, had introduced Tobirama to everyone he had not met before, then he had pulled out the chair for Tobirama.
It left the Senju feeling a little off balance. Nobody had ever done such a thing for him as far as he could remember, and to know that it was all for show, to reinforce the idea that they were actually a couple when they were not… It made him a little sad. He hid it well though, playing his role to the best of his ability, offering Madara some choice pieces of his food. Then Kurohime ruined it by snickering and saying that Madara needed to regain his stamina. Moments later, her chair jerked as though kicked, and Tobirama wondered which one of the brothers had done it.
They were halfway through the meal when the youngest brother finally appeared, hair tousled and a green stain on his shirt. He laughed and apologized, saying he had been playing tennis and forgot the time. Then he glanced towards Tobirama, turned back to the chair he had been pulling out, before he froze and looked up again. Oh… Of course. Tobirama recognized him the same moment Izuna must have recognized him. Uchiha Izuna. He should have made the connection earlier.
After a moment, Izuna resumed pulling out the chair and plonked down into it, still looking at Tobirama. Before the staring crossed over into creepy territory, he asked, “Why are you dating my brother?”
Oddly enough, it didn’t sound like Izuna found it disgusting, or that he was disappointed in Madara for dragging someone as unworthy as Tobirama home. No, he sounded genuinely puzzled, as if the idea was just so strange that he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. As if, maybe, he didn’t think the two of them had anything in common?
He needed to shoot down whatever this was before it ruined the story they were selling, so he returned Izuna’s look with an equally puzzled one. “Why wouldn’t I want to date Madara? He is amazing.”
Leaning back to allow the server to place his plate in front of him, Izuna shook his head slowly. “No, seriously. What are you doing dating a loser like my brother? You, the favorite of all the professors at the faculty, dating my brother who had to be bribed to finish his degree.”
This was new information to Tobirama, but he wasn’t about to shame Madara for it. After all, Hashirama had still not finished his degree, having changed his major four times. Instead, he turned to Madara with an amused smile, “What was the bribe?”
Cheeks just a tiny bit pink, Madara dabbed his lips with the napkin before answering, “A car.”
“The one you drove here?”
“No. A vintage one. It’s not suitable for long drives, but if you are interested I’ll show it to you when we get back.”
There was a soft gasp from Kurohime before she blurted out, “You haven’t shown him your Silver Ghost yet?!”
Realizing that this was apparently a big deal, Tobirama quickly tried to explain it away. “We have not been dating for that long.”
The problem was that Madara had had the same idea, about explaining it away, so he spoke at the same time, saying, “He has been away from Konoha, and I wasn’t about to drive it all the way to Suna to visit him. I flew there.”
They looked at each other, both realizing at the same time that while the statements didn’t exactly contradict each other, they didn’t align a hundred percent either. Thinking on his feet, Tobirama asked Madara, “You counted our first meetings as dates?”
Fortunately, Madara was not stupid, despite Izuna’s implication that he was, so he picked up the thread. “Wait, did you think it was just sex? I came to Suna to visit you!”
“I thought you had work there as well? And, to be fair, I was not doing much thinking with you there!”
“Boys! This is not a suitable topic for the dinner table.”
As Tobirama had hoped, someone—in this case Madara’s mother—interrupted the discussion, ending the need to come up with more lies. Madara and Tobirama apologized and quickly focused on their food. It looked like the deception still stood. For now.
Then Madara’s mother asked if their clothes were prepared for the next day, and Madara paled.
“It’s still in my bag. I’ll send it down for someone to iron it.”
“You do that.” She sounded mild, but there was steel underneath in her tone.
He didn’t know if that was why Madara, as soon as they returned to the room after dinner, asked to take a look at Tobirama’s suit, but he guessed it was likely. It did pass muster, so while Madara called to get someone to come and pick up his suit, Tobirama sat down in one of the comfortable chairs, flipping his book open.
⁂
Madara had been about to say that he would take Tobirama shopping for a better suit once they got back to Konoha, but had stopped himself just in time. What was he thinking? He couldn’t dress up Tobirama like a doll. For one thing, their relationship was only pretend. And for another, Tobirama might take offense to being treated like a kept man. Madara didn’t know Tobirama well enough to guess at that yet, but he did strike Madara as a man with more than his fair share of pride.
Yeah, it was probably a very good thing that Madara had stopped himself in time.
He handed his suit over to the hotel employee, then he glanced at Tobirama. Reading was probably a good idea, but unlike Tobirama, Madara did not dig out a book. Instead he grabbed his pad and opened a news-site, going straight to the economy section. He was never a hundred percent off work, and if something big enough happened, he might be spending the night on his laptop.
Fortunately most of the news was just elaborating on things that Madara already knew about, and nothing that needed his direct input. His department had it all in hand.
Deciding that for once he was going to head to bed early, Madara dropped the pad on the nightstand and walked into the bathroom, only grabbing his bag of toiletries on the way.
It was only as he was stripping out of his clothes that he remembered—He usually slept in the nude. He had not packed anything to sleep in.
Glaring at himself in the mirror while he brushed his teeth, Madara felt stupid. He should not be fretting this much about it. They were two grown men. Tobirama had even admitted to being gay. He shouldn’t have any problem with sharing a bed with a naked man. So why was Madara so flustered over the idea?
Well… That question wasn’t truly that hard to answer. He was worried he would wake up with a boner. No, strike that. He knew he would wake up with a boner. He couldn’t sleep nude with Tobirama in the same bed. Boxer it was.
Just as he was done, there was a knock on the door. He threw on a hotel yukata and went to collect the steamed and pressed suit. When he returned into the room proper, Tobirama had already left for the bathroom, so Madara hurried underneath the blankets, leaving the yukata draped over the back of the nearest chair.
Picking the pad up again, he checked the news one last time.
When the bathroom door opened, he instinctively glanced up. His lips quirked up at the sight of the oversize t-shirt Tobirama had put on. Then his eyes dipped lower, and he realized the shirt stopped mid-thigh on Tobirama and that was somehow worse than if it had been a regular size t-shirt that had shown off his underwear. Right now it looked like Tobirama might be naked underneath. Not good for Madara’s sanity. Or his libido.
He forced his eyes back to his screen while Tobirama shuffled into bed. Then he put the pad away, turned the lights off, hesitated briefly before he said ‘good night’, hearing Tobirama return the sentiment, and Madara tried to sleep. Tried very hard to do so.
No luck. An hour later, he was still awake, a soft buzz underneath his skin, like electricity, making it hard to relax. He had caught a whiff of Tobirama’s scent, and now he was telling himself that it was rude to sniff a sleeping man.
Which was another thing. Tobirama had fallen asleep pretty fast, and the soft noises of his breathing kept drawing Madara’s attention. He was not used to having anyone in his bed. Usually, his encounters had been brief, with him or his partner leaving immediately after. He couldn’t remember the last time he had shared a bed with someone to actually sleep.
Rolling over and pressing his head into the pillow, Madara sighed. If he had been alone, he would have jerked off. That usually helped calm him down enough to be able to sleep. But now he didn’t even dare to go to the bathroom and do it. What if Tobirama woke up and realized what he was doing? Madara would die of embarrassment. No, he couldn’t do that.
In the end he resorted to searching up some breathing techniques and trying them. They must have worked, because the next thing Madara noticed was that his alarm was going off.
He pressed his face against the warm skin, inhaling deeply, rolling his hips lightly, enjoying the feel of a hard thigh between his legs. Then he froze, wide awake. Slowly he tilted his head back and looked up. Tobirama’s face was just inches away. His eyes were closed, but Madara was not fooled—his bed-partner was not asleep. Not unless he was blushing furiously from a dream.
Scrambling out of the bed, Madara was somewhat gratified to realize he was not the only one who had moved during the night. Tobirama lay splayed out nearly in the middle. And he was no longer pretending to be asleep. However, he was pretending that nothing had happened.
Madara killed the annoying alarm and hurried over to his bag, throwing over his shoulder, “I’ll be quick. We have half an hour till breakfast.”
⁂
Waking up with Madara pressed against his side, their naked legs tangled together, had been surprisingly pleasant. If Madara had not reacted the way he did, Tobirama might have been tempted to offer a quick one-off just to extend the pleasant feeling. Seeing Madara disappear into the bathroom, he was glad he had not. For all that he had earlier had the impression that Madara was a lot like Hashirama, clearly in certain areas of his life Madara was downright shy.
Tobirama pressed his arm against his eyes and sighed. He didn’t even have enough time to deal with his morning wood.
Rolling out of bed, he shook the t-shirt so it hung a little looser around him, hiding the boner, then he went to find some clothes suitable for wearing to breakfast.
By the time they made it down there, half of Madara’s family was there already. Apparently, the bride had eaten and gone to start to get ready. Tobirama checked his watch. It was eight o’clock. The ceremony was scheduled for noon. He decided to not ask.
Given that they had four hours till they needed to be at the venue, Tobirama decided to spend at least one of those hours at the hotel gym. It was a good way to pass the time, and when he mentioned it to Madara, he decided to join him.
That turned out to be a mixed blessing. While running on the treadmill, Tobirama had a choice between looking out through the windows at the view of the garden, or staring at a screen that would display the distraction of his choice. So far so good. The problem was that Madara, after a brief warm-up, had opted for the weights, and the sounds he kept making behind Tobirama’s back were giving Tobirama ideas. Ideas that quite frankly were making running a bit awkward.
He suffered through the rest of the hour, made his way back to the hotel room, let Madara shower first, then he gave in to the temptation, trying to be simultaneously fast, and quiet while jerking off in the shower. He could not meet Madara’s eyes when he left the bathroom, diving into the nearest chair and burying his nose in the book again. That’s where he spent the remaining time until he had to put the suit on and follow Madara out.
Weddings weren’t really Tobirama’s thing. He certainly didn’t cry like a lot of the people present did, but he did manage to be attentive and look happy for the bride and groom. Still, he was relieved when they moved to where the reception was to be held.
The bride and groom shared a table with their parents, facing the room, while the rest were seated around circular tables dotted throughout the room. Tobirama was glad he was not forced to sit at the main table with Madara, as that would have felt like too much of a deception. Instead they were sitting at the table closest to the French doors that led out into the garden, meaning they got fresh air and a nice, cooling breeze drifting past them every so often.
Madara was excellent company, keeping him entertained with little anecdotes between the speeches, and thus ensuring that his need to interact with any of Madara’s relatives was kept to a minimum.
Unfortunately, once dinner was over a few hours later, the guests being led out into the garden for another long speech while the hotel staff swiftly and efficiently packed away all the tables and chairs, that luck ran out.
The two of them had been standing off to the side, trying to not draw attention to themselves, but someone who introduced herself as Madara’s aunt, alongside two other women, had tracked them down seemingly explicitly to try to interrogate Tobirama.
“So, what is it you do, dearie?” The smile looked fake, so Tobirama returned it with a bland one.
“I just finished a Master's degree at Suna Tech.”
The woman gave Madara a judgmental eyebrow-rise, before tilting her head. “I guess Mada-kun still has not grown out of his habit of picking partners younger than him.”
Madara’s expression turned sour. “Obasan…”
“I told you to call me oneesan.”
“Obasan, Tobirama is only three years younger than me. I believe you are eleven years younger than your husband, hm?”
The aunt’s expression became stiff, then she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Well, he is my fourth husband, and once you are past thirty…”
“Fifty.”
“Thirty, then age does not matter that much any more.” Now she was outright glaring at Madara. Then she added, “Besides, by your age, I had been married for nearly six years already. You have a duty to your family to provide an heir.”
Feeling that as a boyfriend, fake or not, it was his duty to protect Madara, even from his own family, especially when the battle was with words, Tobirama plastered on a mild expression and interrupted them, “Yes, you must have started early if you have worked your way through so many men, but you should not project your bad habits onto Madara. I find it admirable that he has decided to wait until he is certain, and not let his libido steer him into bad choices. After all, a marriage should ideally be for life, should it not?”
The aunt paled, then turned bright red, spluttered something, then she turned on her heel and walked away with a clearly irritated click-clack of her high heels. The other two women stared at him with wide eyes, then they turned and hurried after the aunt. He never got their names.
⁂
Madara couldn’t believe it. He had never before seen his aunt Umeko at a loss for words, far less seen her walk away from a quarrel. Somehow Tobirama must have managed to hit more than one sore spot to shut her down so efficiently. Was it that he implied she was a man-eater? Or the implication that she had let her pussy make choices for her? Or the fact that her marriages had all fallen apart after a while? Whatever it was, Madara was impressed. He had no sympathy for Umeko-oba-san, as she regularly shredded people with her vicious tongue, so it was about time she got a taste of her own medicine. Madara’s own meager attempts at jabbing back had been nothing on Tobirama’s vicious barbs hidden under a pleasant smile.
A warm feeling curled in Madara’s chest. Bringing Tobirama as his date had been the best decision ever!
He snaked an arm around Tobirama’s waist and steered him towards the bar. “That was awesome and deserves a reward!”
An hour later, Madara was still feeling like he was walking on air. It seemed as if giving his implicit permission had somehow unlocked a previously hidden side of Tobirama, and every catty comment from one of Madara’s relatives was shot down with heavy artillery now. It turned out Tobirama could be delightfully petty when given the opportunity.
“Are you sure you should be drinking that? At your age it is so easy to overestimate your tolerance, and given that your vision seems to be blurring if you think Madara has gained any weight lately then you might already be over your limit.”
With the way Madara’s great-aunt clutched the stem of her glass she might be about to throw her drink into Tobirama’s face, so, deciding that letting Tobirama get the parting barb was victory enough, he steered the younger man towards a quiet corner away from the few couples still dancing.
Then he realized that their glasses were empty, but it was probably a good time to take a little break anyway, so he plucked Tobirama’s glass from his hand with a smile, “Let me just put these away.”
⁂
He had noticed Madara and his beau the moment he arrived. They were rather striking together, and he could easily understand why Madara had fallen for the man’s good looks. The question that remained was whether the young man was worthy of Madara, or if he was just using him for his money. Seeing his chance to investigate when Madara walked away, he slipped out of the shadows and quickly strode over.
⁂
Feeling someone come up to stand next to him, Tobirama was prepared for yet another exchange of barbs with some female relative of Madara’s. Instead he found an elderly gentleman in an expensive suit eyeing him curiously. As soon as the man was sure he had Tobirama’s attention, he gave a polite smile. “Tobirama-kun, was it?”
Not sure who this was, but not wanting to be the one to be rude first, Tobirama gave him a little bow. “Senju Tobirama. I am here as Madara’s date.”
The man nodded, “Yes, I noticed. You two do stand out in a crowd.”
Before he could come up with a suitably polite reply to that, the man’s attention suddenly focused on him far more than it had been, those dark eyes studying him more intently. “Wait, Senju Tobirama? You’re the one that wrote the thesis on the probability of a chakra-fusion drive?”
Surprised, and uncertain where this was headed, Tobirama just nodded. “Uh, yes? Are you interested in theoretical physics?”
Those dark eyes glittered with a gleam that made the man suddenly look ten years younger. “Am I…?” He laughed, his grin wide when he leaned close, asking, “Are you interested in a job?”
Still having no idea who the old man was, and starting to wonder where Madara was, Tobirama hedged. “A job? I mean, I just finished my studies, so I was thinking of taking a few months to relax before…”
That had the man straighten up, revealing that he was taller than Tobirama had first assumed. Probably the same height as Madara. The expression on his face looked puzzled. “Just finished? But the thesis was published two years ago?”
Fidgeting a little and trying to spot Madara in the crowd, Tobirama explained, “Well, yes, I finished that Master degree then, but I was working on another one, and that was harder to find proof for. … Uh, who exactly are you?”
“Oh, my apologies. My name is Ōtsutsuki Indra. I’m the CEO of Tsukuyomi Enterprises. You may have heard about us…?”
Tobirama blinked. His mind had stalled completely on the fact that Ōtsutsuki Indra had read Tobirama’s Master thesis on theoretical physics. That Ōtsutsuki Indra knew who Tobirama was.
The older man grinned. “I take that as a yes. So, interested in a job?”
Before Tobirama could gather his mind enough to say ‘Yes, of course!’, Madara showed up by his side, glancing between Tobirama and Indra. Then he frowned at the older man, and shook Tobirama’s world further. “Ji-ji, are you bothering Tobirama?”
Indra looked at where Madara had placed a possessive arm around Tobirama’s waist, giving him a small squeeze, but Tobirama’s mind was still stuck on the fact that Ōtsutsuki Indra had read Tobirama’s thesis, so it didn’t occur to him to correct the impression Madara was giving his grandfather!
Suddenly Indra’s expression turned smug. “Oh-ho, so that’s what it’s like. You know, Mada-kun, if you can keep a hold of this one, convincing him to marry you, I’ll leave my half of the company to you.”
Madara’s sudden spluttering finally shocked Tobirama back to his senses. If Indra thought they were really dating, that could be a problem. How could Tobirama accept the job-offer after what Indra had just said to Madara? If it came out that they had been faking it, that they had been fooling Madara’s family…? Crap!
He grabbed Madara’s wrist and bowed deeply to Indra, giving him a pleading look, “If you could give me just a moment to confer with my boyfriend…?”
The old man was still smirking as he waved them off, “Of course. I have yet to taste the cake, so I won’t be leaving just yet. Go off to confer about what it is you need to discuss. But do get back to me about that job offer. I was serious about that, you know.”
“Of course, sir. I’m honored that you found my thesis interesting.”
As Indra turned away from them he heard a low muttering that sounded like ‘Interesting he says, as if it didn’t revolutionize the industry.’
Tobirama was not sure if he wanted to know what it was Indra had been talking about. First he had to talk to Madara, so he dragged him out into the garden, to a secluded corner that was rapidly getting darker as the sun set. When he stopped and spun towards Madara, it was to find the Uchiha staring at him with wide eyes. “How the fuck did you get ji-ji to offer you a job? I swear I was only gone for two minutes!”
Tobirama lifted his hand to rub it over his face but realized he was still holding Madara’s wrist, so he dropped it before completing the action. Then he slowly shook his head, still not entirely believing it. “He had read my thesis paper. Ōtsutsuki Indra…”
“My grandfather.”
“...had read my fucking thesis, and he liked it so much that he offered me a job, no further questions asked! What the fuck?!”
Madara’s eyebrows had climbed the more wild Tobirama’s expression became. Then he, in possibly the calmest tone Tobirama had ever heard him use, which was a little scary, asked, “What was your thesis about?”
“The probability of a chakra-fusion drive, and how to solve the three remaining questions that had kept it from being realized.”
The blank look in Madara’s eyes confirmed for Tobirama that Madara didn’t actually understand what he was talking about, but then he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “Wait, you solved…? No wonder ji-ji wants to hire you. That has been his pet-project since before my mother was born!”
Then Madara sat down on the grass, laughing, but it sounded a little unhinged. Kneeling beside him, to check on his pretend-boyfriend, Tobirama didn’t need to ask what it was that bothered Madara. He told him, “Well, fuck, if I don’t marry you now I’ll probably be disinherited!”
Madara reached up, framing Tobirama’s face with his hands, sounding a little manic. “At least you’re hot as hell and brilliant. I feel like I lucked out, while you’ll be stuck with me!”
Before Tobirama could protest that they weren’t even truly dating, Madara surged forward and kissed him, shocking all thought out of his head.
And that was how Kurohime found them, Madara sitting on the grass with Tobirama kneeling between his legs, both of them oblivious to everything around them. Until she growled at them, “Oh for fucks sake! Niisan, you have a room! Use it!”
They jerked apart and Tobirama scrambled to his feet, awkwardly holding his hand out to Madara. Who took it, attempting to unsteadily get to his feet, rolling forward, overbalancing, and dropping one knee down to not tip over. Of course, that was the exact moment that someone came walking around the rosebushes, having been drawn by the noises Kurohime had made.
A loud squeal subsequently drew the attention of the entire party, “Oh my god, are you proposing?!”
Reasonably sure he looked like a deer caught in headlights, Tobirama noticed that Kurohime hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as if she was trying to hold in laughter. And Madara was frozen, kneeling in front of him, holding his hand. Well, fuck… There was no returning from this, was there?
And Madara had said he might be disinherited?! That… Well, fuck.
Probably a little more drunk than he thought he was, Tobirama dropped to his knees in front of Madara and placed his free hand on the side of Madara’s face, cupping it as he leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. There, that had to look like he accepted, didn’t it? When he pulled back, Madara’s eyes were wide and he looked dazed. He stood up easily when Tobirama pulled on his hand, and it was a little worrisome how malleable Madara was at that moment. He would not be able to field any questions from his relatives like that, so Tobirama felt he only had one option. Tugging on Madara’s hand, he dragged him away from the gathering crowd, heading towards an entrance that didn’t lead into the ballroom but rather to a corridor and eventually to the foyer, where Tobirama, not sure if they were sober enough for the stairs, nudged Madara into the elevator.
It was only after the doors closed that Madara finally looked at him. “Did we just get engaged in front of my entire family?”
Tobirama didn’t answer that, just steered Madara out of the elevator the moment it opened. It wasn’t until they were inside the room, the door firmly closed behind them that he finally opened his mouth. “That was… Fuck! How will we explain that it was a mistake?”
Madara leaned against the wall and kicked his shoes off. “Why did you pretend to accept? We could have laughed it off if you hadn’t…”
“I panicked! You had just said you might be disinherited!” Tobirama ran both hands through his hair, mussing it up.
Madara barked out a laugh. “Ji-ji wouldn’t…”
“Well I didn’t know that! I don’t really know anything about your family, except that they are stupidly rich!”
That shut Madara up again. For a moment they just stared at each other. Then Madara started to shrug out of his jacket, glancing at the grass on it with a small groan. Tobirama finally kicked his shoes off and walked further into the room, not bothering with the slippers as he too started to peel off the suit. Then he paused, glanced at where Madara hung his suit-jacket on a clothes hanger. “What do we do?”
Continuing taking his suit off, Madara shrugged. “We continue the charade for a while. You take the job offer, and we pretend to be engaged until you are settled in your job, then we break up, no hard feelings.”
“I can’t lie to your family like that! Especially not if I’m going to be working for your grandfather’s company!”
“You heard the man—It will be my company eventually.”
“Yes, if you marry me!”
Tobirama’s frustration was escalating, only to derail when his libido reared its head as Madara bent forward to pull his pants down. Eyes glued to that amazing ass, his mouth opened, completely bypassing his brain. “Or we can date for real.”
Madara managed to stumble forward, both legs still trapped by his pants, and Tobirama leapt towards him to catch him before he could hit his head on the wall. They ended up in a tangle on the floor, Tobirama having rolled them sideways, which meant that Madara was on top, his ass pressed against certain parts of Tobirama’s that had a vested interest in said ass. He could not have kept in that groan if his life depended on it.
⁂
Outside the door, Kurohime stood with her hand raised to knock. She stared at the door. There had been a loud thump, and a groan. She dropped her hand down by her side, stepped around stiffly and marched away from the door, waving at her twin to turn around as well. “They are busy. We’ll congratulate them later!”
Scurrying after her, Togakushi gave a low whistle. “Damn, that must be, what, the third time since they got here?”
“That we know of.”
“Right! Not thinking any more about that. I need another drink.”
“Me too.”
The elevator closed behind them. When they arrived in the foyer, it was to find more members of the family there, trying to peer behind them. Kurohime shook her head, marching past them, but Togakushi took the time to inform anyone else who might be curious, “They are busy. They might be down later. Or not. Who knows.”
Then he hurried after his sister.
⁂
It took them a little while to untangle their legs and get off the floor, by which point Tobirama’s dick was very interested in continuing what they had inadvertently started.
Fortunately, it looked like Madara had not suffered any injuries. The same could not be said for his pants. One of the seams had torn. When Tobirama pointed it out, Madara had just shrugged and said that the dry-cleaning services also offered repairs. Then he kicked the pants all the way off and sat on the bed, wearing only his burgundy shirt, a pair of boxers, and the socks with the sock-garters. Tobirama’s eyes kept flicking down there. He had never met any guy who wore that. Certainly not someone as young as Madara. But his mind, and other parts, insisted it was hot.
In an attempt at returning to the conversation they’d had before the fall, and possibly speeding things along, he made the argument that, “If we date for real, there’s nothing stopping us from making good use of that bed right now.”
Madara had started to unbutton the shirt, but at that his head snapped up. Then he looked down along Tobirama’s body, to the very obvious bulge in his pants. Swallowing, Madara gave a slow nod. “Uh-hu. That’s… a good point. A very good point. That’s… There’s lube in my bag. Might be condoms as well. I just grabbed the…” His voice petered out as Tobirama worked the buttons on his pants open and let the fabric fall to pool around his ankles.
⁂
They did in fact not make it back to the party. Nor did they make an appearance at breakfast, and when Sora, Madara’s mother, who was the de facto owner of the hotel, given that she owned the whole chain, asked her staff if there had been any orders from the room, she was informed that they had ordered breakfast for two, and that two suits had been sent down for cleaning and repair.
In the end, to avoid them being late, she sent her husband up to knock on the door, and they made it outside just in time to say goodbye to Myoko and her new husband before they left on the honeymoon.
Watching the car drive off, Sora studied them both out of the corner of her eyes. Madara’s hair was in a messy ponytail. He had clearly given up trying to drag a brush through it. He was also wearing a shirt with the collar turned up, but it could not hide the hickeys.
Tobirama on the other hand looked much more composed, wearing a dark turtleneck shirt, but she spotted teeth marks around his thumb. Whatever they had been up to, they were both sticking very close to each other, and looked happy, so she wouldn’t interfere. There was just one thing.
Handing an envelope to Tobirama, she informed him, “My father left this morning to deal with something that came up at work, but he said that if you sign this, you can take two months vacation up front, and you’ll get to pick your own team.”
Tobirama accepted the envelope, but she was not sure if he realized what he had done. Both he and Madara were staring at the thing as if they had no idea what paper even was.
⁂
Two months later, Madara drove Tobirama to work in his Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost. They walked together through the doors, and up to the office Indra had set aside for Tobirama. He did not miss the fact that it was just down the hallway from Indra’s own office, on the same floor, and he suspected that he might find it difficult to have lunch with his fiance in the time to come, since it was very likely that his ji-ji would want to talk shop with Tobirama during that time. Still, given that Tobirama had agreed to move in with him, Madara would have the rest of the day, so he could give his grandfather that time. But not forever. He had plans to show off his brilliant partner to some of his business associates that kept bringing their vapid trophy wives to their lunches, and he was looking forward to their faces when they realized that Tobirama not only had the looks, but also brains. Yes, Madara had really lucked out.
Now, if only Hashirama could forgive him for stealing Tobirama...