Tsukuyomi (1/?) - Tobirama/Madara
Fuck this had to be a genjutsu, but how the hell had anyone caught him in one given his Sharingan? It was the only explanation he could think of why he had the white hair of Hashi’s little brother in his hands while his cock was surrounded in the tightest, wettest heat he’d ever experienced. How the hell was the brat so fucking good at this? Just enough teeth and tongue to feel really good, and his cock head massaged by the man’s throat, and those hands, nails digging into his thighs.
He thrusts twice, enjoys the way the brat chokes around his cock and starts to empty himself down his throat, and wakes up with a frustrated scream as the genjutsu dissolves into the spiteful fragments of a broken tsukuyomi. He doubles over himself, the pleasure sharp and vicious, hand desperately milking the remains of his orgasm from his body, and tries desperately to remember the clan’s Mangekyō Sharingan wielders and their specialities.
The only problem was he couldn’t think of anyone still alive who wielded the damn skill other than him. Shit. He scrubs his eyes and makes use of the jug of water and a small fireball to clean up the evidence of his midnight … pleasure.
“SENJŪ! SENJŪ!”
He curses again, and pulls on his armour, snatching up his gunbai, and a handful of the explosive tags that one of his men had been working on based on something he’d seen Hashi’s little brother paint - he’d given the man a promotion for managing that without getting killed - and charged them as he ran; hopeful they’d been changed enough that the pretty brat wouldn’t detonate them while he was sparring with Hashirama.
The battle turns into its normal farce; he burns Hashirama’s mokuton creations almost as fast as he can create them, and then breaks out Susanoo when the over-friendly idiot starts to get indiscriminate with his summonings; less for his own safety and more because people were edging to close to their sparring match and Hashi would be miserable if he killed anyone, and why was he starting to sound almost fond of the opposing clan leader? Had the damn tsukuyomi not broken completely?
His sharingan spins faster, a spike of pain going through his head as it shifts to the mangekyō form and locks onto the battle between Izuna and the white demon brat; there’s something - he swears and overreaches himself as the immediate future spreads in front of his mind’s eye, barely missing one of Hashi’s mokuton spikes in favour of yanking Izuna out of the battle before he can complete the hand seal sequence he’d started.
“You idiot.” He shakes his younger brother, pulsing enough chakra through his system to disrupt his coils temporarily, and then glares at Tobirama over the idiot’s head, almost getting caught by those brilliant red eyes. Not sharingan eyes, but so pretty. “Both of you. Fucking idiots. Hashi, take yours home before I put both of them over my lap. I recognised that damn jutsu and the only fucking person Izuna could have learnt it from is him -”
“- if you know it, -”
“I made it kinjutsu within the clan. No one is permitted to teach it anymore.”
“You still want our dream then -”
“- no more dead little brothers.”
“Ceasefire?”
“Hn.” He chucks the pretty brat at his friend, and flares his chakra in a general retreat signal, picking up his still shaken younger brother, and leaps away, leading the clan back to their compound.