Tipping Point
~*~*~*~*~*~
The halls were quiet as he strode through them; the hour was late, after all. Not many were home, and most of those that were had already turned in for the night, unaware, or perhaps uncaring, of the torture happening down below.
The walk to Madara’s rooms never seemed so long. Part of him hesitated; was this really a good idea? Was it time to push the boundaries, to test the fraying, crumbling walls between them?
Part of him said no. A larger part of him screamed yes.
He didn’t let himself hesitate when he arrived. He knocked once, then let himself in. Madara didn’t seem surprised to see him, onyx black eyes watching him intently as he closed, and locked, the door behind him. The room was quite dark, safe for a few small lamps in the corners that cast shadows everywhere. Those shadows highlighted sharp features, that seemed all the more ethereal and tempting, swifting ridding him of any doubt that lingered.
“You took longer than I expected,” Madara said lowly, breaking the heavy silence and gracefully standing from where he had folded himself on the couch.
“You were expecting me?” Tobirama quipped back, heat coursing through him at the thought that Madara had anticipated him, maybe even wanted for him to come.
Madara tilted his head a little, smirking a cheshire smirk. “You’re not hard to read anymore, Tobirama. I like to think I’ve figured you out somewhat.”
Tobirama took a few steps forward, slowly, as though the other were an easily frightened cat he wished to lure into a trap. “Is that so? If that’s true, have you deciphered what’s on my mind right now?”
An unspoken tension crackled in the room, waiting at any moment for a spark to light the waiting flames.
Madara’s gaze didn’t lose its intensity. “I have a pretty good idea,” he said, testing the tension, pushing at it to see when it would break, what amount of pressure or teasing would cause it to shatter like glass.
“I see,” Tobirama hummed, taking another step forward, until only a few paces separated them. “I’d like to confirm your suspicions, but I’m afraid I don’t have explicit permission to do what I want. And last time I acted without asking….”
“And if I were to give you permission,” Madara said, deceptively casual as he crossed his arms and rested his weight on one leg, “would that make you fearless.” More of a statement than a question, like he already knew the answer.
“I’m always fearless.”
Madara gave him a long look; careful, considering. A few long heartbeats passed. “You have it,” he said quietly. And Tobirama didn’t wait any longer.
He closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to grip him on either side of the face, sweeping down to press their lips together in a heated kiss. Madara was swift to respond, his own hands sliding up Tobirama’s chest, nails curling into his skin through the fabric of his shirt.
The action sent tiny pinpricks of pain up him, igniting the spark, sending fire coursing through him. The flames had his desire, his want, erupting. With a growl, he deepened the kiss, dragging his hands roughly down his sides and curling one arm around his lower back, pulling him closer and molding them together.
The warm press of his body against his was enthralling, addicting, and he wanted, needed, more. Slowly, he nudged Madara back, working his hands under the hem of his shirt. He let him hike it up, haul it over his shoulders, twisting his arms out to assist. Tobirama tossed it aside, careless as to where it landed.
As the bed came closer, Madara’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Tobirama’s shirt, a frustrated sound ripping up the back of his throat at the lack of progress. Finally, he gave up finesse and ripped, tearing the buttons off and sending them flying everywhere.
“You’re finding those later,” Tobirama murmured in amusement, nipping his bottom lip. Madara huffed irritably.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, working Tobirama’s shirt off his shoulders. It fell to the floor, somewhere, and as soon as it was out of the way, Tobirama looped his arms around his waist and lifted, hefting him up off his feet and dumping him on the bed.
The breath he had barely caught was stolen from him when Madara pulled him down with him, leaning up and tangling his fingers in his hair to slot their lips back together. Pleased with his need, Tobirama leaned down, caging him in his arms, easing the heat of the kiss into something softer, more tender. That didn’t seem to please him whatsoever, given the rather disgruntled sound he made.
Tobirama chuckled, breaking the kiss and softly trailing his lips down the column of his neck. Automatically, Madara tilted his head to grant him better access, sighing softly at the touches. His hands came to rest on Tobirama’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the muscle. “You don’t seem the type to tease,” he rasped, his voice pleasantly rough.
Tobirama leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? What did you expect?”
“For you to live up to your previous promises,” he said coyly. Tobirama, despite himself, laughed lowly, shaking his head.
“Is that what you want?” he drawled. “Is that what you’ve been anticipating? Fantasizing?”
An embarrassed flush coloured Madara’s cheeks, but he still lifted his chin haughtily. “It’s what I expected, or all you all just talk and no action?”
The jab had its intended effect. “Brat,” Tobirama grunted, leaning down to silence his snarky reply with a searing kiss. As he did, thoroughly distracting him with heated nips and licks, he drew Madara’s wrists up, slowly dragging them up against the mattress until they were above his head. Then, holding both his hands down with one of his, he took his free hand and carefully, quietly, worked off his own belt, sneakily drawing the leather strap from the belt loops of his pants. Then, acting fast, he used the leather belt to bind Madara’s wrists together, then secured them to one of the rungs of the headboard.
Madara pulled away from the kiss, craning his head back to give his bound wrists an amused, but unsurprised look. Tobirama splayed his hands over his chest, watching as he tugged at the leather, testing its hold. Then he snorted in amusement. “Really?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and twisting his wrists to waggle his fingers as best he could.
“I like to take my time with my long fought for conquests,” Tobirama purred, leaning his weight down with his hands on either side of Madara’s head, lowering his lips to the underside of his jaw to gently suck an appealing dark mark into the skin there. Madara’s breath turned a little shaky at the action.
He opened his mouth, likely to snark at him again, and Tobirama covered it with his fingers to quiet him, slowly working his lips up to his jaw and then down his neck, mapping out a trail of marks and hickies that would last for days.
And just to prove himself as annoying, Madara tilted his head, and licked Tobirama’s palm. Greatly amused, Tobirama pulled his hand back, wiping the saliva off on Madara’s cheek, and chuckling at his protest. “Gross,” he complained, twisting awkwardly to brush his face against the sheets.
“Mhm, you started it,” Tobirama shot back, ignoring his glare in favour of wrapping his lips around a nipple and sucking harshly, likely leaving imprints of his teeth on the surrounding skin. Madara jerked up and swore softly, and when Tobirama glanced up, he closed his eyes and turned his face away. “Sensitive, are we?” he teased, licking a stripe along his ribs before moving onto the other and giving it the same treatment.
Madara hissed quietly, narrowing his eyes into a glare. “Fuck off,” he growled, and the breathless way it came out sent a surge of self-satisfaction coursing through him.
“Attitude now?” Tobirama quipped. “You ought to mind your manners, darling.”
Madara smirked ferally. “What fun is that?”
Deciding to ignore his sass, for now, Tobirama leaned back, adjusting his position to straddle his thighs, resting his hands lightly over the sharp lines of his hip bones. He still hadn’t gained back the weight he lost after getting shot, and the wound, while mostly healed by now, was still glaringly obvious; red and raised scar tissue against smooth, pale skin.
Or rather, formerly pale. His skin was flushed red in the current situation, and Tobirama took a moment to take in the sight and enjoy it. Finally, after all this time, after all the pining and the wanting and the frustration. Finally, he had this.
“Well, darling”, he drawled, hooking his fingers under the waistband of his pants and tugging up, tickling his fingers in a whisper soft touch over the skin beneath. “I had once promised to have you begging for me, and I am a man of my word.”
Madara grinned ferally. “Give it your best shot,” he challenged, easing back and giving him a cocky smirk.
Ohhh, he was going to make him eat his words.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~*~*~
Watching his disgruntled companion the next morning only stroked his ego even more. Sitting at the dining table, he crossed his arms on its top and leaned against them, grinning. Madara gave him a bleary eyed glare back.
He supposed the glare was deserved. After all, last night had been passionately intense, and if he moved around as stiffly and sorely now as Madara was, he’d be rather cranky too.
Breakfast was a quiet event. Hashirama looked between the two of them with a knowing expression. When they walked into the dining room, his eyes lingered briefly on the bruises they had left on each other, and he simply raised an eyebrow at his brother, and gave him an approving nod. Kawarama kept giving Tobirama a sidelong look, and everytime they made eye contact, however brief, he’d grin roguishly and wink. Itama, bless his heart, chose to ignore the atmosphere all together after staring at them both for a few moments too long, putting two and two together with an embarrassed flush.
“Anything on the agenda today?” Hashirama asked after a while, breaking the thick silence. Tobirama poked at his plate for a minute. Who decided to put mangos on the menu today? Gross.
“I have a small matter to tend to, and renovation plans for a few of the clubs to approve,” he replied, his voice rough and his throat hoarse in a pleasant way. “Take Ita to the range for a bit this afternoon,” he added after a moment. “Get some practice in today.”
Itama grinned in excitement. “Yes!” he crowed, pumping his fist.
“I have a session with Chuya today,” Kawarama said before Tobirama could question him. “A dreadfully long one.”
“I’ll make sure to drill him on your progress,” Tobirama replied, amused at his brother's disgruntled expression. “Working on your books again today?” he continued, directing his question at Madara.
Madara blinked slowly, then shook his head. “No,” he muttered, sounding just as rough as Tobirama’s throat felt. “I have something else in mind.”
That piqued his curiosity. “And what would that be?”
“Staffing your clinic,” he said with a shrug.
“You have people in mind?”
“Yup.” The briskness of the answer was a clear indicator of his lack of desire to continue, and Tobirama didn’t push it. Technically, the clinic he had set up for Madara did belong to him, but he wasn’t going to run it. So, anything and everything pertaining to it was solely Madara’s concern. Including who worked there, eventually.
“Well, good luck,” he said, glancing down at the myriad of marks visible on his neck and the slope of his shoulders. Madara noticed his stare and smirked, tilting his head a little to expose another mark; large and angry and dark, and one Tobirama remembered making quite well. He pursed his lips, willing last night's memories to take a backseat in his mind.
It would be in vain, he would later conclude. For the entire rest of the day, he was plagued by pleasant memories of the night before, that made focussing on his day virtually impossible.
~*~*~*~
Despite the soreness radiating through his body with every step, Madara strode through the busy walkways, ducking into a small little coffee shop tucked away into a hidden corner on the street. The bell chimed merrily as he entered, and the familiar smells and atmosphere brought a wave of nostalgia. This little shop had once been a favourite study location while he was still in nursing school.
A familiar squeal of excitement drew his attention, and he turned to see a young woman bouncing toward him with a huge grin on her face. Automatically, he smiled back, bracing himself just in time for the aggressive hug that might have knocked him off his feet otherwise.
“Damn it, Maddy, it’s been too long!” she exclaimed, squeezing hard. With a dry chuckle, Madara patted her on the back.
“I know, Meian. It’s good to see you.”
“You too. You know, we could have met up earlier if you had answered your damn phone for the last year or three.”
“Spare me the lecture, we can’t all be addicted to our phones as you.”
“Some things never change,” another voice chimed, and Madara pulled free of Meian’s grip to turn to Shira. She grinned up at him, giving him a warm embrace as well, albeit much gentler than Meian’s bone breaking crush. ”Hey, trouble-maker,” she said fondly.
“I don’t make it, trouble just finds me,” he replied with a wry grin. Shira rolled her eyes, taking him by the elbow to lead him to the booth they had claimed.
“So, what brought on this sudden desire to meet?” she asked, sliding into her spot. Always to the point. “You’re not one for casual meet ups and reunions, so I can’t imagine this is simply for fun.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed, easing down with a sigh. Meian slipped in beside him, curling her fingers around a half full mug of hot chocolate. “It’s a job offer, actually.”
Shira raised her eyebrows, and Meian coughed up her drink. “W-what?” she sputtered, and Madara patted her on the back until her coughing fit was over.
“I’m looking to staff a small clinic,” he said carefully, “and I’m very picky on who I want there. I need people who I know can rely on.”
“I thought it would be a few years before you could open your own practice,” Meian said with bewilderment.
“In most scenarios, yes, but I am going through a couple loopholes to speed things up,” he said evasively.
Shira tapped her fingers on the table, giving him a long, searching look. “And what would this job involve?” she questioned, an intrigued glint in her eyes.
Madara leaned back. “Do you remember, on our last practicum placement together, when we dealt with the little mafia incident?”
~*~*~*~*~
“You’re joking,” Naori said in disbelief, staring at him with wide eyes. “You want us to work for the Senju mafia?!”
“That’s not exactly what I said,” he protested, holding up a hand. “Technically, you’d work for me, and we’d occasionally cater to Tobirama and his crew when they are in need of us. Otherwise, we’d do what any other normal clinic would do and cater to the general public and whatnot.”
Kenara Yamanaka scowled, looking less than pleased. “Are you quite right in the head, Uchiha?” she demanded. “This is insane.”
Next to her, Hikaku pinched the bridge of his nose. “How is it that you always manage to find yourself in the most insane situations and you drag us into it with you? Do you remember what’s happened to you since you first crossed paths with that white haired bastard? Held hostage, then kidnapped, then shot and almost killed, and now you’re just going to go and work with them? What’s the matter with you?”
“That’s not all that happened,” Madara grumbled, frowning at his cousin. “There’s more to it than that.”
“More of you being manipulated and taken advantage of?” Hikaku snapped, glaring at him.
“I have not-”
“Madara, take a minute and think about this,” Kenara interrupted. “This is madness.”
He probably should have anticipated some push back from these three. With a sigh, he slouched back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. “A simple no would have sufficed, you don’t have to lecture me.”
“We’re not lecturing, we’re warning, and that’s because we love you,” Naori said, patting his knee.
Hikaku sniffed. “I didn’t say ‘no’, I said it’s insane, idiot. Obviously I’m going to help you, if only to make sure you don’t do something outrageously stupid, again.”
“Wait, you are?” Madara frowned, and Hikaku snorted.
“Yeah, obviously.”
“I’m not agreeing to anything,” Naori said hastily. “But I’ll think about it, okay?”
Kenara grunted quietly. “That’s basically a yes, Naori, otherwise you’d straight up say no.”
She shrugged sheepishly. “Well, yeah, but I have things to think about here…”
“Don’t you hate your boss?” Hikaku questioned. “I would think that you’d jump at the chance to leave and work somewhere else.”
Naori tilted her head and wrinkled her nose irritably. “Hikaku, I’m trying to make Madara doubt my willingness to help him out, and you’re ruining that.”
As they bickered quietly, Kenara gave him a sharp look. “You know you can’t back out of this once you’re in it,” she warned, and he nodded.
“I know.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m near retirement already. You’re sure you want a cranky old nurse at your fancy little clinic?”
“There’s no one else I trust more.”
“Flatterer.” She picked at her nails for a quiet moment, then sighed. “I’ll help you, kid. If only to make sure you don’t walk into something willingly blind.”
Well, that was that then. He was well on his way to getting the clinic fully operational. Now he just had one more in mind to convince.
~*~*~*~*~
Izuna threw a dramatic fit, but in the end, he agreed to join the ever growing crew. Every clinic needed a pretty face helping around, after all.
Warm and solid against his side, Tobirama leaned over, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Satisfied with your success?” he asked, his voice a low, purring rumble. It made his chest vibrate pleasantly.
“More than,” he replied, turning to face him. Tobirama’s gleaming red eyes looked brighter than usual, and softer; calmer. It made his face look somehow even more handsome, and without thinking, he lifted a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against his cheek.
The other hummed softly, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “Good,” he rumbled, raising one of his own hands and curling his fingers around the nape of Madara’s neck. “Looking forward to it?”
“Yes and no.” Tobirama hummed again, tugging him closer, and Madara went willingly, leaning his weight against him.
“Do you ever regret it?” he asked after a while.
“Regret what?” Madara shot back.
“This,” Tobirama replied, waving vaguely at them both. “Us meeting, and the….events that lead to us being where we are now.”
Maara sat up a little straighter, considering. “No,” he said finally. “Not really. I might regret how some of this happened, but in the end, no. I don’t regret it. What’s life without a little risk?”
Tobirama chuckled quietly. “I would have done it differently, now that I look back at it,” he admitted. “I would have tried to sweep you off your feet, woo you, romanticise things a bit.”
Madara snorted. “You really think that would have worked on me?”
Tobirama tilted his head consideringly. “No,” he chuckled. “No, it probably wouldn’t have. You’re far too rough around the edges to be wined and dined.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you tried,” Madara jabbed, poking him lightly in the chest. Tobirama snickered.
“Oh? Care to accompany me for dinner then?”
“Only if you’re paying.”
Tobirama rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” He brushed some of Madara’s hair back from his eyes. “I am glad I have you here with me.”
“Mhm, so I can stitch you back together when you’re an idiot?”
“More or less. You have lovely hands for me… And you look inspiringly sexy when you’re all focussed and working and giving orders. I’m quite looking forward to seeing that side of you some more.”
“Go and get shot and you’ll see it.”
“Are you saying you want me to get shot?”
“You’re kinda cute when you're hurt and whining about it.”
“Brat.” Nudging his shoulder roughly, Tobirama stood up, and offered him a hand. “Come on then. I promised you a dinner date.” As Madara accepted his hand up, he smirked widely. “You should wear that pretty outfit you wore that one time I took you to my club. I’d like to enjoy taking it off of you.”
Madara huffed in amusement. “If you can figure out all those useless buckles and clasps and still want to get it on, then I’d say you earned it.”
Tobirama’s mischievous grin returned. “I don’t have to undo all of them…..” He leaned in, breath warm against his skin. “Just a couple of the ones in the way…”
Mdara shoved him back, feeling a flush of warmth creep up his face. Tobirama just laughed at his embarrassment, and as he pulled him along by his wrist, he decided he wouldn’t mind any other embarrassment in the future, so long as Tobirama was in it.