Kindling

Tobirama picked at his shirt with sad fingers, pulling the charred remnants off of his body and trying not to pout to noticeably but – it was just that he hated people seeing his back after what lessons with his father had made it and the idea of Madara seeing it was even worse; the only good thing was that he had left Madara’s robe with the main party where they were welcoming the last few clan heads so it at least hadn’t gotten burned by the overexcited Uchiha child that had almost set a Nara child on fire before Tobirama got them out of the way. Everyone was fine now and all children had been sent on back to their parents with stern words, but there was nothing to be done for Tobirama’s shirt and he would have to walk out in front of all the clan heads in nothing but his pants until he could reclaim Madara’s robe and curl up in that (why had he left his tree?), the only thing that made today redeemable was that Madara had liked his gift, otherwise it had been a waste of energy to get up today he was sure.

Tobirama jumped when there was a soft shift of air as the door behind him opened and he whirled around, hoping he had been fast enough to hide his back from whoever was coming in which – “Madara!” he did not yelp, he didn’t. fuck anyone who said otherwise. The Uchiha blinked at him, looking more than a little thrown and deeply distracted, which was odd, what had happened to leave him quite that unfocused? It was strange because he was staring at Tobirama’s chest and there really wasn’t anything strange about it, it was his back that was a mess, his chest was just normal so what-? “Uchiha-sama?” (lucky he hadn’t noticed Tobirama’s slip of the tongue earlier into informality) Madara swallowed and visibly forced himself to look away (so strange), clearing his throat uncomfortably (did Tobirama make him uncomfortable? That made him… sad) before shrugging off his layered outer robe and thinner underrobe, draping both over the nearby railing on the porch as his fingers went to the hem of his undershirt before stripping it over his head (oh. um. wow, Tobirama had known that Madara was, um, nice looking, but this…) and shifting awkwardly as he held it out to Tobirama (it took the Senju a second to gather his brain and notice), “Here, you don’t like being naked around people right?”

Tobirama blinked, startled not only by the gesture but by the recognition of his discomfort; he nodded slowly and took the soft (was all Uchiha fabric so soft? He knew they were smiths and weavers but he hadn’t realized that they were this much better than everyone else) cream colored shirt “I couldn’t-“ he started (he wanted to though, he really wanted) and Madara shook his head, “Take it, I have other layers and I- um, well, I don’t like you being uncomfortable” the older man looked a little discomfited with the admission and Tobirama rubbed his fingers over the cloth, he should protest more but… “Thank you” he murmured as he slid the shirt on over his head, relishing the soft fabric and seeping warmth (and it even smelled like Madara again, that mix of smoke and cloves and jasmine and leather oil that Tobirama was, um, rather more attached to than he should have been). It was interesting that even without the clan symbol on it it was so clearly an Uchiha shirt, he knew of no other clan that wore clothing with their signature wide, tall neckline which even the undershirt boasted to an extent; it left rather more of his tattoos visible than he normally showed off but that wasn’t a problem since it did cover his entire back and that was the part that Tobirama hated.

 Madara swallowed hard, oh, oh shit. he had thought that Tobirama in his Uchiha robe was dangerous, well then Tobirama in his shirt was lethal. It was more intimate somehow, closer and more like Tobirama had simply picked up Madara’s clothing off the floor and put it on without noticing (maybe after a good fuck and- NO, bad Madara, talking first) instead of wearing the formal robe of his clan. “Thank you” the younger man said again and Madara shifted, forcing himself to focus “What happened anyway?” he asked; Tobirama sighed “Two children got in a fight- Nara and an Uchiha- I don’t know who started it but it wasn’t too bad, nothing that they were that upset about except one child decided that she should show the other how good her clan was with fire and spat a fireball out. I got the Nara boy out of the way and sent them both to their parents but my shirt was a casualty of the tussle” Madara frowned, he would have to look into this, serious fight or not is wasn’t good if there was a clan child running around so willing to be unwise with fire, they lived in wooden houses for crying out loud, all children had to learn to be smart.

 “Thank you for keeping the problem from escalating. You didn’t get burned did you?” he hadn’t seen any burns but he had been rather….distracted by all that snow white skin; Tobirama shook his head, “I’m fine, I am a suiton master, my shirt was the only thing harmed” and Madara blew out a relived breath. The Senju cocked his head, peering at Madara with bright eyes “Is there something you were looking for?” he asked gently when Madara said nothing more and the older man shifted, dragging his eyes away from the expanse of sharp collarbone the wide collar of Madara’s shirt (and the fact that it was fit for a man with broader shoulders to begin with) exposed to his greedy eyes, and trying to think far enough to figure out what it was he had come here to say, um, oh! right. shit. “Um, so you know how all the clans near by or that we are allied with have been sending random shit and ambassadors and stuff? So, I figured out why. And. um. its not just that we’ve stopped trying to kill each other.” Tobirama cocked his head again and Madara gave himself a very stern talking to about appropriate times to melt “SO, um, basically they all, um, theyallthinkthatyouandIaregettingmarriedsinceyou’rewearingmyclanmark.” He blurted out as fast as he could without stopping and refusing to glance over at Tobirama after no matter how long the silence stretched out; “what?” the younger man whispered and Madara cleared his throat again. “They think that since you were wearing my mark we, um, I don’t know the specifics, but they, um, theythinkwegotmarried” “oh” said the albino in a small voice after a moment “I’m sorry.” Madara blinked at him, confused “What?” he asked slowly and Tobirama shuffled his feet a bit “I’m sorry that I made them think that, it was just so warm and I- but I’ll stop if you- I mean I don’t want to-“ Madara darted forward and slapped (gently, gently slapped) his hand over Tobirama’s mouth.

“You don’t need to stop!” he said in a slightly too loud voice before drawing back and clearing his throat uncomfortably “I mean, it, uh, it doesn’t bather me. and it’s, um, nice to have peace finally” he muttered to the ground (totally missing seeing Tobirama’s brightening expression fall at the last words). “Oh” said the Senju “I suppose that is a good reason to continue to pretend, at least for now” Madara nodded firmly, this was good, if he could keep Tobirama close that would give him the time he needed to figure out how to woo him for real.