Naked as Lightning (I)
The hiraishin was still new, and maybe, maybe Tobirama should have refined it more before using it, but in his defense he hadn’t anticipated having to use it twice in quick succession and it had never occurred to him that this would happen, really it hadn’t Hashi! Even if he had known he might very well have done it anyway; when he had hiraishined behind Izuna he had fully intended to strike the other man down and save his clan members, except. except as he lined up his strike he felt Madara’s chakra scream, and he just couldn’t go through with it (he couldn’t do that to his- his Lodestar) so a second before his sword could strike home he activated the hiraishin again shattering space as he twisted through the summons realm (he felt the speed of his passage tare at him, huh, that hadn’t happened for a while. Oh. Oh shit) and reappeared halfway between Madara and Izuna (why did it have to be close to Madara?!) the feel of cool air on his skin telling him very clearly what had happened (still had his sword and happuri as well as his fur- huh, why only the stuff that mattered most to him?).
Madara always kept an eye on Izuna, always, he knew that Tobirama was a dangerous enemy and was always aware that Izuna was only barely keeping up and all it would take was one new jutsu that Izuna couldn’t keep up with for it to fall apart; so he saw it when Tobirama’s chakra gathered, he saw it when light shattered as the albino vanished, he saw it when Tobirama appeared behind Izuna, sword lined up for a death strike that Izuna would never keep up with and he wanted to scream. There was a hesitation, red eyes seemed to flick to him in the suspended time of the sharingan, light twisted, Tobirama vanished leaving Izuna with nothing more than a scratch; there was a shriek of light cracking and the Senju appeared again, close enough to Madara was he would be able to touch him in a few steps and he was, he was, he was, guh, hng, oh my god. He wasn’t wearing any clothing. Standing on a battlefield clothed only in a drape of long fur around his neck and the glint of metal on his brow, china pale skin glowing like he was made of mother of pearl and with a bloody sword still in his hand he looked like a vision. Red eyes opened and met Madara’s and- oh. Wow. He- Tobirama looked away and Madara wanted to whimper, he had almost seen something important, he knew he had, and now he didn’t know what it was! But Tobirama shifted and all thought fled; gulp, god…. He was…. All the pale skin and the muscles shifting under it like a sculptor’s masterpiece, his thighs, god Madara wanted those wrapped around his waist.
Tobirama was refusing to quail under all the staring eyes only by force of will, he… it was uncomfortable, he had never cared to much about his body one way or another as long as it worked and did what he wanted it too, but he knew that it was not the most… pleasing form to look on (too pale, too thin, too scared for his skill- signs of failure writ large on his body) and he was very aware of Madara’s eyes on him (hewas not going to look at the older man, he wasn’t) and the embarrassed twist knowledge that shot through him.
(the gathered shinobi gaped, they had all noticed the sudden quiet from their respective leaders and withdrawn a little, shifting until they could see what was going on and then- and then forgetting entirely what they had been doing. ….What? What?!)