Kindling

Tobirama was confused, something had changed with Madara recently and Tobirama didn’t know what it was or what to do with it. His anger at Tobirama seemed to have cooled rather a lot and he was always watching now, Tobirama felt his eyes on him all the time and while it was…nicer than it should have been to have the man’s attention on him entirely, it was unnerving not to know why Madara was paying him attention and though he still engaged Tobirama in arguments he jumped to touch faster (which was…really nice honestly to just skip the yelling) and those touches were rather less brutal than before, mostly pinning Tobirama to things and holding him there rather than fast punches. As much as Tobirama enjoyed it- and he did, a lot, it took a huge amount of effort not to just sag into the touch and slump forwards into the older man’s arms- he didn’t like not knowing what was going on or having it out of his control. Currently he was shivering against the wall after being pinned for the longest time yet against the wall while Madara snarled in his face- the Uchiha hadn’t yelled even once! How was Tobirama supposed to deal with that?!- pressed so close he could feel the heat of the older man’s body radiating over him with a muscled forearm pressed firmly across his chest. It had been the closest thing to bliss that Tobirama had ever experienced, especially since Madara’s chakra didn’t even feel all that angry at him no matter what he was saying – not that Tobirama had been listening too much to what the Uchiha was saying at that point honestly.

With another shudder the albino slid down the wall and hid his face in his knees, wishing that it wasn’t so difficult. It had been easier when the touch was all aggression and anger and Tobirama could tuck it away as enough without really wanting more (contrary to appearances he wasn’t that much of a masochist), but this…when there was something else behind it and it didn’t hurt it seemed to just make Tobirama crave it more. He wanted nothing more than to just be wrapped up in Madara in every way and soak it in with that deep voice rumbling in his ear about almost anything or all the things Tobirama wouldn’t let himself ask the older man about no matter how sure he was that it would be a fascinating conversation if Madara wanted to talk to him without yelling (which the Uchiha wouldn’t, no one’s opinion of Tobirama ever changed for the better as they spent time around him; not Hashi, not Mito, not Madara he was sure). Maybe shutting down would be better after all, then he probably wouldn’t provoke Madara into touching him and as much as the idea of losing that made him want to throw up it might be better if he did before he did something stupid, like beg Madara not to let go.

Madara had just about sorted out what was going on with Tobirama and was now just trying to figure out what to do other than just point blank asking the other man on a date, he was pretty sure he had to move slower than that and make Tobirama see that he wasn’t angry with him or didn’t dislike him first since that albino still seemed confused on that one – though part of that may have been that Madara was still getting a bit wound up when Tobirama tried to set him off; in part because he really was stung (Tobirama’s aim was impeccable as always) and in part because he was rather worried about what might happen if he lost the excuse and stopped touching Tobirama. A rather prescient fear it seemed if the way Tobirama looked when he hadn’t given Madara an opening to touch him in nearly a week (Madara…missed it, not the arguments but the interaction and passion) was anything to go by; for nearly a week Tobirama had avoided riling Madara up and kept out of arm’s length, looking paler and tireder as time went on until Madara finally lost his temper in his concern over something unrelated and started yelling – not at Tobirama necessarily but that didn’t seem to matter as the albino reacted in a way Madara had never seen but looked instinctive. He went pale and then very, very still, back going over-straight and eyes snapping ahead to stare into the distance as he turned to ice; bowing shallowly and slipping away like a ghost when Madara stopped talking in shock.

“Oh no” Hashirama whispered and the Uchiha jumped, turning to look at his friend with raised eyebrows having almost forgot that he was in the room, “I didn’t realize – do you yell at Tobi a lot? You do don’t you, oh dear I should have realized-“ eyes narrowed Madara stepped in front of the door and glared at his friend as he ground out “What’s going on? What was that about?” Hashirama hesitated and Madara growled in spite of himself. The Senju wilted and looked down, fidgeting as he staggered through a bad explanation of their father and his yelling and punishments and how Tobirama had been conditioned to act “-and I should have realized it was getting to him, but I’ve been so distracted!” Madara snorted, anger and guilt and sorrow tangling in his gut. “You stay here and have a good long think about when you saw your bother last and when you last touched him or made sure he was eating and sleeping; I’ll go clear things up with the – with him, you leave us be Hashirama, I am not kidding about that and I have no problem reminding people who is your equal, got it?”

Rather unsettled the older Senju nodded and Madara spun, mind already churning as he stomped out; if Tobirama’s hatred of yelling was this bad why did he provoke Madara to it so much? Was the fact that Madara had stopped yelling what had made him not reach out anymore (messed up though his reaching out very much was)? Well, only one way to know, Madara was going to the root of all this and getting some answers thank you very much.

Tobirama all but jumped out of his skin when Madara slammed into his office and then shoved the door shut behind him, advancing on Tobirama inexorably; already the albino could feel his brain fogging and his fingertips go cold and still as his instincts- barley pushed back- surged up again. But he never had a chance, as soon as Madara got a good look at Tobirama’s face he went right past the desk and when Tobirama tried to turn away grabbed the younger man and pulled him firmly to his chest, wrapping arms around Tobirama as the Senju began to shake. Tobirama wanted to pull away, wanted to hide and run and make Madara hurt him because he understood that and all he could do was shake. “If you needed a hug you could have just told me, if yelling bothers you, you should have told me” the Uchiha murmured, his voice deep against Tobirama’s back and that – that was more than the albino could bare, crumbling back into the strong chest and firm hold in a rush and shaking like a leaf as he was gathered closer with a soft croon until Madara gently turned him and tucked his head into the Uchiha’s neck with another half hummed note.

Slowly Tobirama sagged farther into the other man as the shaking intensified, his body and mind too confused and torn between contrary instincts (yell, fight, go away, go cold, try to be still and perfect so it would stop, claw the older man closer and closer and closer) and his exhaustion dragging at him in a confusing tangle and Madara was so warm. Warm and safe (somehow) and steady and gentle and not grasping or painful or – it was too much and after his recent lack of sleep and not eating right with the ever present nausea Tobirama’s body couldn’t keep up and he collapsed into the older man in a dead faint.

Madara swore viscously, scrambling to firm his hold on the slimmer man (and shit, now that he was holding him properly instead of just pinning him to things- something Madara had guilty enjoyed rather a lot- it wasn’t so much ‘slimmer’ as worryingly thin) as Tobirama went limp in his arms, apparently falling unconscious from stress in the older man’s hold. Still cursing under his breath Madara maneuvered the slender figure into his arms as carefully as he could and then tried to figure out the best way to get him out of the Tower without being seen, wishing not for the first time that he could pull Tobirama’s Hiraishin and just vanish. Still, in lue of that they would have to do this Madara’s way and take the roofs or something; yeah that would be fine, they could do that. Plan firmly in mind Madara scanned the office for anything important and then took off, burden cradled carefully against him until he was back as the Senju’s isolated quiet home and Tobirama was tucked away in bed, divested of all the uncomfortable layers Madara could take off without possibly pushing propriety too far and up setting Tobirama when he woke.

Which he did nearly two hour later, long after Madara had settled in on the bed with a book nicked from the albino’s shelves (a rather fascinating treatise on summons actually, maybe at some point the fighting would stop long enough for them to discuss it? Madara would like that.) as Tobirama curled into a tightly little ball on the bed next to him, so conditioned that he wouldn’t even reach out to human warmth beside him in his sleep (Madara was quietly wondering who he had to kill for this now, it sounded like their father was a place to start and Mito might have an idea for a resurrection jutsu, hmmm). In fact there was very little indication of Tobirama waking, just the faintest change in his chakra Madara wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t been looking for it, as it was he let the other man be for a bit before reaching out absently and combing his finger through thick white hair, marking the tensing of Tobirama’s lithe body and carefully not reacting to it in anyway; it wouldn’t take much to scare the touch starved Senju off and that was the last thing Madara wanted.