A Different perspective
Madara had a bad feeling that day. It wasn't due to the weekly clan meeting, nor was it due to his slightly burnt food that day, something was just telling him that today was going to potentially be one of the worst days of his life.
When Senju Tobirama, the white demon of the Senju, fainted right in the middle of the meeting and Hashirama turned those damned puppy eyes of his towards him he realized what was going to happen. Unless he had something to with that.
(In the end, despite fighting tooth and nail against the damned tree brain, he'd been assigned as Tobirama's caretaker. Hashirama owed him the favor of a lifetime.)
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Madara rubbed lightly at his forehead. It'd only been a day and Tobirama was already proving to be a headache to take care of. After he'd fainted, he'd been left to the doctors for a few hours before he was transferred to the Uchiha compound. Why Hashirama thought this was a good idea confused him. It was a good thing his clansmen knew not to get in his way, or this would've blown up into unimaginable proportions.
After taking whatever emergency paperwork he needed to do from his and Tobirama's office, he'd gone back home with it. And proceeded to ignore it to take care of the Senju because he apparently needed to stay by his side for most of the time for the first few days.
(If Madara ended up fainting from overworking when the paperwork piles up from this, he's going to sue Hashirama for employee abuse. And get Mito as his lawyer. He knew she'd been waiting for a moment to get back at her idiotic husband for breaking her favorite vase.
Besides, she owed him a favor for the Kiri incident.)
He grumbled some more inside his head, slowly removing his hands from the Senju's face. He'd been sitting down for a while now and his body was screaming at him to move. He never liked staying still for long.
He was promptly stopped in his tracks.
(As Madara left the room, he let out another humorless laugh. Tobirama had asked him to stay, and he'd promised to be back. Always! He'd acted like a child, and Madara had indulged him instead of pushing him away, humiliating him-
Madara had indulged him. The bitter smile strained on his face as the biting voice of his brother echoed into his mind, so so vivid, wondering just why his aniki would betray him.)
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He knew he'd referred to him as a child, but he hadn't expected the childish nicknames. Who in their right mind would refer to Uchiha Madara as an angel?
Though, he supposed he wasn't in his right mind.
He'd rather let him be stuck in his fantasies than deal with whatever resistance he'd gain when memories of who he is came flooding in at his name, even if it was just a possibility, he didn't want to risk it. He disliked his responsibility as much as he would dislike him if he knew who he is.
Still, he dutifully played the role of the caretaker, years of being the main caretaker of a sick Izuna due to his behavior coming in handy.
Though, he had to admit, Izuna didn't flirt with him when he was sick. He softly nursed his head and reassured himself he could get through this.
That didn't work so he planned murder instead. That always cheered him up.
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Madara frowned immediately the moment he'd entered the room, lips pursed.
"What did I say about opening the patio door? I know you got better, but the weather is chilly. What if your fever got worse!? Do you want to stay sick?"
He continued to nag at the man as he shut the door, dragging him back to his bed, ignoring any protests he had as he tucked him in perfectly. He did his best to ignore his puppy eyes, because he wouldn't crumble in front of such a pathetic gaze, he dealt with them with Hashirama nearly every time he met him, he-
Crumbled.
He pinched his nose and felt the temptation to amputate him and his brother again.
"Just-don't do that again. Please."
Madara really didn't want to deal with him longer than was necessary. The amount of paperwork the man had was ridiculous, and he was only able to handle a limited amount of them due to necessary confidentiality and too much work.
Madara already had enough on his plate as the Uchiha head after all, even after Hashirama took over most of the mission details.
Tobirama had winced at his begging, looking noticeably moodier, and why did he have to be so... innocent? Was that the word? No, it isn't, but Madara always crumbled in front of people like that, consciously or unconsciously.
Bemoaning his weakness, Madara sighed, wondering where it all went wrong.
(He could point out a lot of things, but he'd rather he ignore them at the moment.)
"I'm not mad at you." He was. He really really was. Who does he think he is to extend Madara's work time? Still, he didn't voice any of it. "I'm just worried.".... Was he?
Tobirama stilled at his words, looking up at him with a look he couldn't identity, before reaching out one long arm to grab one of Madara's own.
Madara raised an eyebrow but let him. He proceeded to stare in confusion as Tobirama proceeded to nuzzle it with a soft smile on his face.
"... Happy."
Madara wasn't sure if he preferred his flirting or this behavior. He couldn't decide in the end, because one would leave him so flustered he couldn't even think, but the other left him only slightly flustered but his mind in sharp clarity.
The object of these damned thoughts just continued to look as if this was the happiest day of his life.
(The word traitor kept repeating in a song he was now familiar with, in a voice that was still so clear, like a sharp arrow stuck in his heart, going deeper and deeper in each time, leaving painful splinters that'd never disappear in its wake.)
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Madara stared at the ceiling. Nothing really stared back at him, as he was looking at the ceiling.
Memories kept rushing in and making his face flush, as it had ever since Tobirama had been conscious enough to speak, only increasing the amount of things to be flustered by every day.
How could he be so genuine? How could he handle spewing out such cheesy words, only to sneakily throw in something that'd throw Madara off guard-
Their little fantasy would break eventually, Madara knew, but that thought didn't ground him anymore. Izuna's voice wasn't enough to push him away from this new intriguing version of a man he once thought he knew. Not that said man was making it easy for him to avoid him.
He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to dim the flush in his cheeks and groaned at his situation. Was this some sort of weird new torture? He didn't particularly like it, except he did, even if he didn't like it, and it was making him so conflicted.
Everything is so incredibly confusing. He just wanted him to finish being sick so everything would go back to normal!
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Madara strode into Tobirama's room, dumping a pile of things in front of him. Tobirama glanced between them and him in confusion, although he was happy to see him again.
"For you. To entertain yourself, since apparently, the moment I take my eyes off of you you're doing paperwork for entertainment!"
Which was a lie, really, as that had only happened because one of the secretaries had managed to get in. Still, he reasoned, it was Tobirama's fault for being so easy to convince to do said paperwork!
Because of him, regulations regarding outsiders entering their clan compound were much stricter.
Tobirama just stared at him in amusement.
"Didn't I already apologize for that?"
He shot his puppy eyes at him.
"Are you still mad at me?"
Madara slapped him on the back of his head, making a laugh bubble out of him. Madara frowned, grumbling under his breath that he was only laughing because he was sick so Madara couldn't use all his strength!
He should be grateful that he's sick, only he shouldn't be, because he's not supposed to be sick, the heck.
Tobirama just beamed at him, grabbing whatever he could reach of him as he sat up to attempt to hug him. Madara, huffing, let him. Shouldn't let him exert himself too much.
"Thank you Tenshi."
Madara felt a little pleased at that, a slight flush coming to his face.
"It wasn't exactly anything hard to procure, so I have no nee- ARE YOU KISSING MY LEG!?!"
(More laughter and shouting echoed from the room, the house feeling more alive than it had in years now, even as the distant whispers of betrayal continued.)
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Madara was in a bad mood. A very bad mood.
He usually only got like this when encountering pre-sickness Tobirama after a particularly annoying meeting only to have barbs shot at him. He was on a warpath.
Everyone made sure to avoid him as much as he avoided them, speed walking towards the room he visited more than his own bedroom, slamming open the door without so much as a greeting.
Ignoring the way Tobirama's face lit, conveniently sitting up, Madara immediately used his lap as a pillow.
"Pamper me."
Tobirama had stiffened up, but rushed at the opportunity, teasing him as he gently combed his hair with his fingers. Madara ignored him, letting his defenses slowly fall, only for today. Just for this one time, he let the person he hated the most comfort him, just as he'd been forced to for the past couple weeks.
He knew he shouldn't exactly ask a sick person to do that, but he didn't care in that moment, suppressing the mother hen in himself that wanted to rip him out at straining the patient.
(For once, he couldn't hear Izuna's voice, too drowned out by the lingering warmth of long fingers on his scalp and soft whispers on the wind, only for him to hear, lulling him into a gentle rest.
A deep deep part of him wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could take out those splinters in his heart.
The other, bigger part of him, told him this reverie, this weird relationship of theirs, would break soon enough. And yet, it remained, still ever so hidden, just waiting for an opportunity to rise.)