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Everybody Talks (Too Much)

Chapter Text

It is Mito who seeks him out first, after the rumors of his and Madara' begin circling. She cares about him in her own way and Tobirama tries to put her unasked for advice in that context. It's still difficult not to snap at her when he sees the reservation in her eyes.

"You are aware of Uchiha-san's preoccupation with Hashirama, of course." She sits across from him at the low table as they draw up plans for warding seals. He says nothing, merely raising a single eyebrow at her tone. She matches it, unimpressed. "I am only worried about you. Please, promise me that you'll keep a clear head."

He wants to ask if it's really so difficult to believe that a man like Uchiha Madara would find him attractive. Instead he thanks her for her concern and assures her that he has not entered the relationship lightly.

That night he gasps and moans in Madara's bed as his lover moves above him, head thrown back, hair brushing over Tobirama's thighs. He grips the older man's arms, pulling him roughly into each roll of his hips until they both lose themselves to ecstasy.

The next morning he wakes alone. He lies back on the disheveled bedding, pleasantly sore, and rolls his eyes when he senses his missing partner's chakra with Hashirama's near the market district. He faintly recalls Madara mentioning some new restaurant that was touting itself as one that specializes in breakfast foods. Tobirama hadn't had much interest in such a thing; it was no wonder that the other man had asked Hashirama to accompany him.


Touka finds him next, several days later. She'd been on a mission and had returned to the buzzing new gossip. She seats herself on the edge of his desk and stares at him until he finishes the budgeting proposal he has been writing out. Tobirama meets her gaze coolly. There is a silent understanding between the two of them and when Madara enters his office for their lunch date, she gives him a nod.

It isn't an approving one, but she can at least acknowledge that her cousin is old enough to make his own mistakes.

Tobirama rolls his eyes and shakes his head at Madara's questioning look. They retreat to the Uchiha's house to eat, but wind up fooling around for the entire hour. Madara leaves him breathless and shaking to meet Hashirama for a diplomatic meeting with a representative from the Kurama clan. Tobirama considers changing his shirt, but decides against it. He returns to his office bearing his Madara's lovebites with a defiant pride.

Some people twitch when they see the marks, others look at him with disguised understanding. He wants to sneer at them, to glare them into submission for thinking that he would be so ignorant of their veiled comments and whispered theories.


Two weeks later, Tobirama stumbles into Izuna as he leaves Madara's bedroom. They both know that Madara has left early again. They both know who it is he is with. Izuna sneers at him with disapproval and some mocking pity.

"You know he's only fucking you because your brother won't have him, right?"

Tobirama doesn't flinch. He doesn't think about empty mornings or distracted kisses. He doesn't think about how easily dark eyes slide away from him to seek out his (first) best friend. Hashirama has always shone so brightly in every sense of the word. People flock to him, they always have. He is so kind, so unlike his dour younger brother, with freakish eyes and a stern face. Too smart, too cold, too strange among his people.

Izuna leaves, easily bored at the lack of response. Tobirama stands silent several minutes more, sensing the thrum of joy in Madara's chakra as he spars with Hashirama half a village away.

There is no one around to hear his reply.

"I know."

Chapter Text

Madara growls at the paperwork on his desk, resenting the time it is taking him just to sort through the mess. Most of it can be delegated to his subordinates, but there is enough sensitive material mixed in with the inconsequential that means he needs to personally classify and arrange each folder into a working filing system.

He masterfully withholds a pout. He would much rather throw the lot of it onto Hashirama's desk to let him assimilate it into his insanely complicated system, but then it would then be forever lost and would undoubtedly cause Tobirama even more headaches.

There is a flush of warmth in his chest that Madara ruthlessly subdues. He will never admit to trying to ease his lover's already monumental workload. Really, the man takes on too many responsibilities and if Madara isn't there to drag him away the fool would probably burn himself out within a week. Even with Madara's interference, Tobirama has been looking much too wan of late. Tired and sad, with a shadow in his eyes that had not been there when they had first fallen into bed with one another.

It worries him. He's spoken to Hashirama several times about what could be causing the younger Senju such pain, but the other man had known nothing. It is beyond aggravating that Tobirama would hide something so troubling from him.

The click of a lock turning draws his attention. Speak of the devil. The man in question strides across the room and Madara is taken by surprise as he meets the kiss. It is hungry and wanting, making his head spin as he deepens it with a groan. He draws away after they finally pause to breath, questioning.

"I thought you said the Tower was off-limits?" Because he had. Madara had wanted to fool around in the Tower, tempted by the threat of discovery, but Tobirama had been firmly against that. He had insisted that their relationship not interfere with their work. Madara had conceded the point easily.

But now Tobirama is pushing Madara back into his chair, sliding between his legs, hands deftly untying his trousers. Not that Madara is complaining that the other had changed his mind, but it is definitely out of character for the stoic, uncompromising man he had fallen in love with.

"Just...let me do this. I changed my mind." Tobirama's words are mumbled and Madara would list that as another abnormality, but the man's cool hands are taking his dick out and a hot tongue is shyly circling the tip and he whimpers, gripping the armrests of his chair as if his life depended on it.

It just might, too.

Madara had never known he had had a thing for being someone's first time until Tobirama had shamefacedly admitted to his lack of knowledge and experience. Introducing his younger lover to the pleasures of the flesh has been both fascinating and erotic. Tobirama's scientific mind is always so curious, so eager, so willing to explore what his body enjoys. It was flattering and humbling and Madara loves it. Loves the look in those pretty red eyes as they make a new discovery, the flush on the man's face, the awe of how well they fit together.

They've been taking things slowly, with Madara happily demonstrating just what the fuss is about sex. He hasn't demanded reciprocation for his lessons, hasn't pushed for more than what Tobirama is comfortable giving him.

Tobirama hums in curiosity as he takes the head into his wet mouth. Madara's fingers dig gouges into the wood, desperately resisting the urge to grip his lover's hair. They had spoken about that sort of thing very early on in their relationship. Madara enjoys it; Tobirama doesn't. His scalp is more sensitive and what is a delicious spark of danger to Madara would be a genuine pain to Tobirama.

He wonders if that conversation is going through his Senju's mind as their eyes meet. Tobirama always watches so carefully when he is testing something out, so attentive, so earnest. Red eyes glance at the broken wood in Madara's hands and satisfaction glows in them. The wave of lust that the triumphant look garners is unbelievable. Madara's cock twitches as he tries to keep himself from jerking forward into that sweet mouth and Tobirama's gaze snaps back to him.

He almost laughs at the look of surprise on that tattooed face. He speaks instead, hoping to draw out more of this side of Tobirama.

"Do you have any idea how often I've imagined this? You look so good on your knees, you're doing so well..." He smiles as filth and praises fall from his lips, knowing how it excites the other.

Tobirama makes a muffled whining sound around the dick in his mouth and braces his hands on Madara's knees, spreading them wider. Face red with his own neglected desire, the other man begins to bob his head, awkwardly at first, but learning quickly what pace to set and when to breath.

Madara's sharingan activates without him consciously realizing it. He swears and needs to force one gloved hand over his mouth to keep from getting too loud; they hadn't activated the privacy seals, after all. And there is a dark, covetous part of Madara that wants this sight to be for him alone. This infuriating, impossible Senju is his, only his, and he's never letting him go-!

His groans against the bitter leather of his glove and climaxes too quickly for him to warn his partner. Tobirama chokes at the sudden rush of warm ejaculate and the involuntary jerk of Madara's hips. He pulls back with a cough and the return to his awkward fumbling draws a satiated laugh from the older man's lips.

Madara will treasure the perfectly clear memory of Tobirama flushed with arousal and embarrassment as he glares up at him, hands reaching to wipe Madara's seed off his chin. He'll never forget the way the muscles of his throat move as he automatically swallows what had made it into his mouth.

Madara watches him with heavy lids and readies himself to slide off his chair, to join his lover on the floor and show his pretty genius boyfriend his own talents. It won't take long, he knows. Tobirama is already so close to the edge that Madara could probably drive him to orgasm simply through his words. (A fantasy he definitely will want to try later)

The chance is lost when they both sense a frustratingly familiar chakra signature approaching the door. Madara hastily tugs up his trousers and laces them as Tobirama hurriedly wipes his face and scrambles under Madara's desk. The scent of sweat and sex is a dead give away and any chakra use to hide it or Tobirama would be equally as damning.

He grabs a file at random and hurries to the door, unlocking it and cursing his best friend's timing. He walks out before the overgrown oaf can try to enter the office.

"Madara! There you are! I was looking for you." Despite the frustration he feels at the interruption, Madara can't help the fondness that Hashirama's openly joyful expression evokes.

Not that he lets it show, of course.

"Obviously. What is it you need now?" He waves the file in his hand and is glad to note that dealing with them will take them away from the office. He tries not to think about leaving Tobirama unsatisfied. He mentally promises to make it up to him later. "Walk while you talk, I'm a busy man. Some people actually do their paperwork correctly the first time."


One thing leads to another, as it usually does with Hashirama's ability to draw chaos to him. Madara finds himself sitting in a bar that evening, watching his best friend and Hokage steadily lose his money in a poker game. It's always hilarious to watch and would certainly be much more entertaining if the civilians at the table over weren't talking such filth.

Really, Madara can admit that he himself is somewhat of an exhibitionist, but the idea of so casually describing his various trysts to a group of slovenly fools disgusts him. There is no shame in those idiots, though, and he tries to tune out their bragging. It works, for the most part.

And then one of them describes how his lover had finally acquiesced to fulfilling one of his fantasies after he had made noises about breaking off their relationship. Madara mentally sneers at the pride the man has as he goes into detail about what she had done to keep him, but...

Perhaps it's a product of the alcohol he had imbibed, but the words brought a familiar feeling to his mind. Something about the conversation was striking him as important and Madara is too much a ninja to allow that to go unstudied. He turns it over in his head, trying to pry out what was causing his instincts to flare up. It doesn't make sense. Madara hasn't had a female lover for some time, long before his current bedmate, and Tobirama...

Perfect recollection of Tobirama on his knees under Madara's desk, taking part in a fantasy he had previously declined. Madara finds himself growing sober as a wave of unease tugs at him. He wishes he had had his sharingan active for the entire event. Had Tobirama been shy-but-eager or hesitant-but-desperate when he had taken Madara into his mouth? They hadn't had a chance to speak afterwards.

Because Madara had left him there. Alone. Had left with Hashirama.

He's not a fool; he knows what rumors flit about due to their friendship, knows that even Izuna believes that he holds some lust for the man he's always seen as a brother. He also knows what kind of stupid conclusions had been drawn from that theory when he and Tobirama had gone public.

Had Tobirama believed those rumors? Did he believe them even now?

His hand grips Hashirama's shoulder firmly and he tosses the man's coins to the dealer. "He folds. We're leaving." The Senju squawks and turns to argue, but quickly swallows his objections when he sees the expression on Madara's face. Hashirama likes to play at being drunk and human, but he too is a ninja.

They exit the building quickly before he speaks. "What's going on? Is there danger?" Madara shakes his head in reply.

"There is somewhere I need to be."

Hashirama gives him a piercing stare for a moment before a smile tugs at his lips. He pulls Madara's hand from his shoulder and shoves his friend lightly in the direction of his home.

"You've figured out what's been bothering Tobirama, right? You always get that look in your eyes when you think about him. Go on, I can get myself home just fine. You go take care of him."


The moon is high and Tobirama is asleep in Madara's bed by the time he gets home, stomach bunched in knots as he considers this worst-case scenario. Did Tobirama agree to this thinking he would be Hashirama's replacement? Had Madara given him some reason to give credence to the rumors? And most infuriatingly, why would Tobirama allow himself to be used in such a manner?

He knows the answer to the last one, at least. He isn't blind to the soft smiles and lingering touches, to contented eyes meeting his own as their owner drifts to sleep in his arms. Tobirama loves him. Loves him to the point where he would disregard his pride and self-respect just to try to keep Madara at his side.

Madara hopes he's wrong, hopes that this conclusion is one born of alcohol and overheard conversation.

He sheds his clothes and slips under the covers, not willing to wake the man. Tobirama shifts in his sleep, automatically reaching for Madara's warm presence before relaxing back into deeper rest. Madara holds him closer.

Tomorrow he is going to make things right.

Chapter Text

Tobirama wakes to thick hair covering his face, assaulting his nose with the smell of tobacco smoke and sake. Ugh. He brushes the irritating strands away, glaring at his partner's oblivious face. How Madara can stand to keep his hair so long and unruly, he will never understand; short hair had certainly suited him well enough as a child. At least the Uchiha doesn't fuss and whine the way Hashirama used to when encountering the inevitable snarls during his morning routine.

He resettles himself into a more comfortable position, his vexation melting away as he watches his lover at rest. Madara is an early riser and is usually up well before him; it's a rare opportunity for Tobirama to see him this way. It is soothing, being able to watch the steady rise and fall of Madara's chest, to remind himself of where and when he is when battlefield nightmares leave him in a cold sweat.

He allows himself to drink in the sight for a few moments longer before he concedes defeat to nature and carefully removes himself from Madara's grip. He should probably make breakfast soon anyway. He tries to ignore the thought that Madara might be tempted to stick around for more mornings if Tobirama could offer him something more than, well, himself.

Morning absolutions quickly dealt with, Tobirama confronts the wood-burning stove and the battered recipe book he'd scrounged up from somewhere with a determined glare. Personally, the idea of eating something sweet so early in the morning turns his stomach, but he knows that Madara's sweet-tooth works full-time at all hours of the day. His lips curl into a smile as he searches through the book for something appropriate, reminiscing of how embarrassed Madara had been when he'd caught the other man in the Tower, steadily working his way through a plate of cinnamon cookies and a stack of paperwork in the middle of the night.

It had been the first time he'd looked at the Uchiha, caught with his hand near-literally in the cookie jar, startled eyes wide at the unexpected arrival, hair bound up in a raggedy ponytail, and thought of him as human. It was also the first time Madara had ever seen him break down in laughter. He had been sworn to silence, of course, but that didn't stop him from leaving sweets at the man's desk. Mocking, at first. A box of cheap cookies, an entire cake once. Then it had become more for fun, leaving him candied ginger root, absent-mindedly picking up a local delicacy while on a mission if it would survive the trip back home.

The transition to actual gifts had been easy.

Warm arms encircle his waist and slightly chapped lips press against the back of his neck. He nearly purrs at the attention, tilting his head to give Madara more access. So much for breakfast... His lover nuzzles lazily against his neck, making him shiver, then he rests his forehead on Tobirama's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

Tobirama starts with a flash of confusion and tries to turn and face the Uchiha, but the man's arms hold him securely in place. He frowns, forcing himself to relax while ruthlessly suppressing a bubble of worry that reminds him who Madara had been with last night and why he might be sorry. If this is the end of them...

He keeps his hands flat on the counter so they don't shake. He keeps his mouth closes so his voice won't break. Maybe it is to save them both the embarrassment of tears that Madara doesn't do this to his face.

"You've been lonely, haven't you?"

Yes. He wants to say it, will never admit it, hates that he thinks it. What he has should be enough, even if his feelings aren't fully returned, he should be grateful for what scraps he can get.

"I love you."

What? "What?" His voice doesn't crack, but the hoarseness and surprise is obvious. They've never said those words, not even teasingly. Why would Madara-?

"I love you." The arms around him tighten and there's hot breath on his neck. There's burning in his eyes but he doesn't understand.

"I've heard the rumors, too. I should have told you sooner; I thought you already knew. I should have made sure-!" Madara is rushing his words uncharacteristically, but he stops when something wet falls from Tobirama's face to splash against his arms. Tobirama finds himself abruptly turned around, Madara's shocked face strangely blurry.


"Tobi?" Madara pulls his unresisting body close, slowly rocking the both of them from side to side. He cards his fingers through Tobirama's hair, trying to soothe his younger lover while he calls himself every sort of idiot. I never should have let this happen!

"Shhh, Tobi, I'm so sorry. I love you. I love your smile and your laugh and the way you sneer when someone pisses you off. I love that you keep stealing my pens and leaving your jutsu notes in weird places. I love that sometime you get so lost in those ridiculously dry texts that you forget the world exists and I get to watch your eyes light up when you somehow take inspiration from those boring philosophers."

Tobirama's face is pressed against his neck, his hands gripping the yukata he had thrown on when he'd woken up alone and staggered out to find his lover. Madara presses a kiss to his head and continues to murmur reassurances that are long overdue.

By the gods, he had fucked up. He is determined not to do so again.

It isn't much longer before Tobirama regains control of himself, wiping his eyes and trying to avoid Madara's. They have been together long enough for him to know that the other man is embarrassed by the display of emotion, and it brings a wry smile to his lips. This man he loves puts such emphasis on his composure. It's no wonder that Madara so enjoyed driving him to distraction both in and out of the bedroom.

He could go without putting Tobirama through anything like this again, though.

"I love you, too." Madara almost laughs; he knows how deeply the Senju in his arms loves him.

Instead he kisses him, not pulling away until he draws a moan from those pretty lips. He has always been better at showing rather than telling, but he will definitely make it a point to remind Tobirama how loved he is in every way possible.


Neither man makes it to either of their offices that day. They spend the morning in the kitchen, kissing and speaking quietly to one another. They get lunch together at a small eatery and Madara holds his hand under the table, almost daring the world to see the difference in how Uchiha Madara treats a lover than a friend. Their hands stay linked all through the walk back to the their house, to their bed, even while Madara shows his utmost appreciation for Tobirama's daring the day before.


Mito finds him first a few days after the rumors begin to circulate. Tobirama takes her apology gracefully.

"I'm sorry for doubting your relationship. The two of you are a good match; I've never been so glad to be proven wrong."

That night they sneak out to a training field and spar until they're fucking, adrenalin running high. Madara owed him a fantasy, after all.


Touka takes a few weeks after that to seek him out. She gives him an unimpressed look at smug smile he sends her way, but gives Madara a more approving nod on her way out of the office.

They eat lunch this time. Occasionally off of the other's chopsticks. In public.


They both almost fall over Izuna when they leave their bedroom on a morning several months later. He makes a face at their state of undress and sneers at Tobirama.

"You know the two of you are sickening, right?"

Madara snags his brother's collar and drags him through the house. Tobirama can hear them arguing and Izuna's useless attempts to escape before his elder brother makes a decent effort to drown him in the koi pond out back.

There is no one nearby to hear him laugh.

"I know."