Work Text:
Madara kept cursing the whole time he was fighting with the festive wrapping paper and ribbons. He sorely lacked patience for this kind of crafting. Wrapping gifts sucked. And wrapping gifts for someone you despised so much that giving them anything was at the very bottom of your “to do list” concerning them sucked even more.
Whose idea it was again to play Secret Santa? Oh yes, of fucking course Izuna was to be blamed. The knobhead hoped he could cheat the name drawing and he would get to buy an enormous present for Touka and have an excuse for it as he was a spineless worm who lacked courage to do it the way anyone with half a brain would. That is, just buy a damn gift and give it to her without forcing everyone else be victims of his scheming.
Be it as may, Izuna ended up with Hashirama but after a while of pleading and generally being a terrible annoyance he convinced Tajiro to switch with him. Madara didn’t really want to know what he actually bought for the Senju harpy, he only hoped Izuna was sane enough not to buy any suggestive lingerie. Although the Christmas party in Senju house would certainly turn out to be less of a drag with the spectacle of Izuna being skinned alive.
The fact that Madara pulled Tobirama’s name out of the box literally ruined his mood for the day and several more to follow. In all truth, saying that it even dampened his Christmas spirits wasn’t stretching the truth that much but it was more of a salt to the already gaping wound.
To hell, Madara normally loved Christmas! His whole family always got together and he got to see his baby twin brothers and parents. Even though they kept calling and skyping, he missed the troublemaking Takuma and much-too-young-to-act-so-adult Haruma something dreadfully. But since their parents announced they would spend the holiday in Hawaii and take the twins with them, he couldn’t help but mope any time someone brought Christmas up. Of course Tajiro would always point out he was just overly dramatic about the whole thing.
Be it little of a consolation in the moments they annoyed him to no ends, at least he had his other two brothers close. Tajiro was the first one to leave the town because of the college and Madara with Izuna followed him. Now Tajiro was in his final year, soon hopefully getting his Master’s degree, Madara in third and Izuna in his second.
Madara was happy when Hashirama announced he decided to apply for the same university as him, although their study fields were different so they only shared a few subjects. While he was studying law with all intentions of becoming a prosecutor, Hashirama was a politics major.
To his mild annoyance the same year Izuna enrolled for the uni, Hashirama’s younger brother Tobirama did the same. And to his much bigger annoyance, the two became quite close friends. Perhaps not as close as him and Hashirama but still. How did that happen considering they used to hate each other in high school, Madara still could not fathom.
Maybe they befriended thanks to the calculus lessons Tobirama offered to Izuna when it looked like the idiot was about to fail the course? Or perhaps because Izuna took hanging out with Tobirama as an opportunity to be in Touka’s presence? Either way, Madara didn’t really care. All he knew was that Senju Tobirama was born into this world with a sole purpose in his life - to irk him endlessly. And that was the end of it.
When he rarely allowed himself to delve into the origins his aversion to the man, he actually couldn’t really remember how it all began. Tobirama never really wronged him in a significant way; he always used to be Izuna’s nemesis. The worst offences Madara held against him consisted of being always a smug sassy smartass who was driving him crazy with his snarky remarks while looking hot.
The deal with Tobirama was, unlike Madara and Hashirama, he never had to phase through the awkward gangly teenage years. While Madara had to deal with his fair share of pimples and learn his wild mess of hair actually looked better long or Hashirama had to realize a bowlcut wasn’t really doing him any favour, Tobirama just sort of morphed like a caterpillar. Madara would swear one day he was just a kid and the next he was a handsome young man. No voice breaking, no skinny dangling limbs, acne avoided his smooth pale skin completely… And that really wasn’t fair at all. No one was allowed to look so pristinely perfect!
Anyhow, even throughout the university Tobirama remained the epitome of a perfect boy. As a genius prodigy in science since his childhood he chose bioengineering as his major and he was damn good at it. Being a talented water polo player, he got a scholarship and played for the uni team in his first year with so much success that he was made captain just in his second year, currently leading the chart with Konoha Swordfish. Everyone and their mothers knew who Senju Tobirama was and without even trying, he amassed his own crowd of fans.
Naturally, Hashirama The Overdramatic Dork™ took upon himself the role of the number one fan and a self-proclaimed mascot to the team and attended every single game his baby brother was playing. More often than not, Madara found himself being dragged along to watch the games too.
The game itself was pretty exciting and fun to watch but Madara suspected the main reason the seats around the pool were always fully occupied was that everyone wanted to get a good look at the water polo team and especially the captain. Not that there wasn’t anything to look at, mind you.
He might not like the man but he was reasonable enough to admit Tobirama was an extraordinarily handsome. And he also wasn’t a fool who would willingly pass the opportunity to get a glimpse or two of the muscular milky white body clad only in tight swimming shorts. The only drawback was the frenzied shrieking of Tobirama’s bunch of fangirls going bananas over him that was somehow ruining the whole experience.
One might think Tobirama, being so successful and well-known all over the campus, had to be stuck up and arrogant man and yet he wasn’t. Yes, he had his own way of dealing with people he deemed annoying and his unimpressed ‘I’m so done with you’ look was a patented thing Madara was subjected to countless times (he was half convinced he was actually the reason Tobirama invented the stare). But he was always willing to help anyone who asked, no matter how busy he was with his own assignments.
And while Tobirama had his bunch of followers and fangirls he preferred company of his old friends over fame. And he wasn’t dating anyone, as Izuna kept reminding Madara all the time. Why his brother deemed that information to be so important to repeatedly share with him was beside the Uchiha. It was none of his business, right? The fact he was secretly kind of pleased he wouldn’t have to watch Tobirama all lovey-dovey with someone was neither here nor there. That would be just gross.
He kept pondering what kind of gift he could buy to the infuriating man for several days. He ruled out ugly gifts out of spite (he wouldn’t sink that low) and ordinary nondescript things like bottle of wine or chocolate. He might not be buying a gift for Tobirama willingly but when it came to gifting someone, he always took care to pick something the person would truly appreciate and like. Uchiha Madara never half-assed anything.
He was almost out of his wits about the gift when an idea occurred him while he was editing his latest shots. He always had a passion for photography and had countless photos of their families and friends Tobirama probably never got to see as he never had a reason to share them with the man. And so Madara ended up ordering a photo album wrapped in blue leather and went through his archives to pick the best moments he or someone else borrowing his camera snapped over the years.
The photos were in chronological order as they were growing up and there were even some from the elementary school when they were just a bunch of toothless rascals. Madara actually had a good laugh going through all of them. He particularly loved the one snapped on Halloween when their parents decided to dress them as animals.
Hashirama was dressed as a frog and kept grinning into the camera with his face all green, Izuna, missing a few teeth, was a very cute little fox and Madara was a very dissatisfied hedgehog as he kept knocking things over with his enormous quills. Tobirama wasn’t even looking into the camera, his tiny face scrunched in a petulant pout and paws folded as his mum made him wear a white polar bear costume. He was actually kind of adorable with those whiskers and fluffy ears. Madara would certainly pinch that red chubby cheek. Right under this one was another photo of Haruma, Takuma, Kawarama and Itama wearing kitten onesies and it actually made Madara coo for a moment.
‘Hey aniki, are you ready to go yet?’
A quick knock on the door followed by Izuna not bothering to wait for the reply before he barged in snapped Madara back into reality from his brief attempt to justify his dislike for the white-haired man.
‘You’re wrapping the gift still? You didn’t even tell me who it is for.’ Izuna came closer to peek over his shoulder but Madara’s growl made him step back again with hands up in a defensive gesture.
‘Because, dear Izuna, this is supposed to be a Secret Santa and you can’t keep a secret for the love of gods.’ Madara grumbled. If anything, being a secret keeper really wasn’t Izuna’s virtue.
‘Alright, I get it, no need to go full grumpy on me, I’m going already. But I suggest you hurry up, we have to leave in ten minutes.’ Izuna shrugged and vacated the room again.
Looking at the mess he made with the paper, Madara gave up on not using any tape and wrapped the gift the best way he could. No need to waste his precious time and efforts just because of the annoying Senju, right? It wasn’t like he wanted to impress him in any way.
Madara didn’t think too hard on what to wear for the party. Since his favourite black jeans were in the laundry, he was forced to wear the cream ones so he just picked a dark brown shirt that went nicely with them. He didn’t even attempt to do anything about his hair – that was destined to be a lost battle even before it would start so why bother – and just tied it in a low ponytail.
‘Come on aniki, I’m sure you’re pretty enough! We’ll leave without you!’ Izuna shouted cheerfully from the front door.
Madara just rolled his eyes at him when he left his room and put on his boots, winter coat and leather gloves. Checking his reflection out in the mirror in the hall, he was pretty content with what he saw so he went after Izuna and Tajiro who were already waiting in the car.
They made a short detour to pick up Tajiro’s girlfriend Yamanaka Inoko and soon they pulled over in front of the Senju house. Hashirama’s parents were fairly rich so when two of their precious sons and niece all moved into the same city, they just rented them their own house not too far away from the campus. It had four inhabitants since Mito moved in to live with Hashirama but it was a regular habit of Madara or Izuna to crash down on the sofa in the living room. The Uchiha brothers themselves had a rented flat not far from the house.
As expected, there already were several cars in front of the house as other guests arrived before them and music was pouring through the windows. Parties at Senju house were a thing and because Hashirama loved company and people in general, anyone who came was invited, therefore it was safe to assume the house would be packed like a rabbit hole. Not something Madara was a big fan of but for the sake of his friends he could endure it from time to time.
Hashirama had to be awaiting them (most likely he was glued to the window in the living room) as Madara barely got out of the car when he found himself in the bone-crushing hug. One might think Hashirama hasn’t seen him in weeks rather than yesterday.
‘Madara! I’m so glad you’re here!’ Hashirama yelled into his ear and proceeded to hug his other two brothers and even the Yamanaka girl. Inoko still looked a bit frightened by the amount of affection but that was just a thing you had to get used to.
‘Come on, come in! There’s like a ton of food in there! Mito with Tobirama were in the kitchen the whole day yesterday and most of today.’ Hashirama gestured them in and disappeared in the crowd of people for the moment only to emerge with four glasses of hot grog.
‘So Tobirama helped with the baking?’ Madara engaged Hashirama in a conversation while Izuna was distracted by searching the crowd for Touka and Tajiro with Inoko went to greet some other friends.
‘Yeah! He picked the habit up quite recently. Says it helps him to relieve the stress or something along the lines. And it’s absolutely delicious.’ Hashirama said dreamily and started waxing poetics about some kind of pastry the white-haired Senju made the other day.
Madara snorted quietly. The idea of the bleached Senju pottering about the kitchen wearing an apron was surely an amusing one but he wasn’t one to mock a coping mechanism. But what did Tobirama have to cope with in the first place? And whoah, did he just showed concern about Tobirama’s wellbeing? Where did that come from?
‘Is he alright?’ Madara asked, gaining a surprised look from Hashirama. He didn’t comment on the oddity of such question coming from Madara though.
‘It’s nothing too serious I think. Just overwhelmed from what he said. He feels a lot of pressure on him regarding the team and fans expectations and whatnot.’ Hashirama waved him off.
Before Madara could enquire any further, his friend spotted someone in the crowd and seeing he was distracted Madara excused himself to delve into the house in search of the mentioned baked goods made by Tobirama. He was curious if they were any good. As a proficient cook himself he liked to spend his fair share of time in kitchen and considered himself a better judge of taste than Hashirama who would praise anything created by his baby brother no matter what. It could taste like crap and he would still declare it heavenly.
He made a short trip through the crowd of people to reach the kitchen and found the table with refreshments. After scanning them shortly, he selected some puff pastry filled with chocolate and popped it into his mouth.
‘Not bad at all.’ He commented to himself, savouring the chocolate filling.
‘Why, thank you.’ A sweet, melodic voice answered from behind him.
‘So this is your work?’ Madara turned around to face Mito as she smirked at him.
‘Hello to you as well. Indeed, I made those. Why are you asking?’ Mito took a few steps towards him and regarded him with expression that spoke volumes of him currently being judged.
‘Just curious. Hashirama said something about you and his brother taking care of refreshments for the party.’ Madara shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
‘So you came to see for yourself if Tobirama was any good, huh?’ She guessed correctly, a slight shuffle of Madara’s feet pretty much confirming her assumptions.
She beckoned her head in the direction of a plate where round cookies with pale yellow frosting were carefully arranged, probably to a pyramid at first though many were already missing from the pile.
‘Try this one.’
Madara obliged and took one, mindful not to disturb the rest of the pile. Why did it even matter to him, he didn’t know. Upon further inspection, the frosting was probably lemon. He liked lemon frosting so he tentatively took a bite.
It was good. Slightly sour because of the lemon but also really sweet. The bits of white chocolate in the cookie were an unexpected yet tasty touch. He hummed appreciatively as he shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth.
‘Yummy, huh?’ Mito raised a brow at him, amusement painted on her pretty face.
‘Yeah, gotta leave it to the bleached bastard, it’s fantastic.’ Madara admitted.
‘You know I’m not the one you should be telling this to, right?’ Mito gave him the look.
‘Ugh. I’ve no interest whatsoever in flattering the damned albino. He’s full of himself as it is.’ Madara huffed, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. She just continued to pierce him with her eyes, knowing smirk widening on her lips.
‘What?’ Madara spat, losing his nerve and subsequently the staring match.
‘Oh nothing. Just wondering when you finally stop being so obstinate.’ Mito shook her head with amused smile, reached for a cookie over red-faced Madara and left him to his devices with a parting wicked wink.
‘Yeah and by the way, you should put your Secret Santa gift under the Christmas tree if you haven’t done it yet.’ She shouted over the music and disappeared in another room.
Madara scowled at no one in particular and gritted his teeth. She has been like this for some time now, trying to push him into interacting with Tobirama. Madara suspected it had to be some kind of arrangement she and Hashirama decided on, to make friends out of them whether they wanted or not. Come to think about it, Izuna was probably on the joke as well. Too bad such thing was never going to happen, not over his dead body.
Mito was probably right though that he should get disposed of the package, now safely tucked into his backpack. He didn’t see anything bad about snatching another cookie to munch on with gusto along the way to the living room. He made it through the hall and he could see his final destination, the Christmas tree, on the other side of the room. Madara was just reaching into his bag to retrieve the wrapped gift, a mistake of not paying attention as he learned the moment his body collided with something solid just between the doorways.
Taken by surprise, he was thrown off balance and stumbling backwards with the impact but strong arms of the other person immediately shot to steady him. Before he realized who the other party was, the close proximity of their bodies caused him to register a pleasantly rich smell, with just a hint of vanilla emitting from them. It was nice, inviting even, definitely suitable for setting a Christmas mood. If more people used such fragrance, he might even bump into strangers more often.
He was broken out of his marvelling by a quiet but pointed ‘ahem’ as the other person cleared their throat. Immediately the dots connected as he was able to identify who this voice belonged to just from that small noise, and Madara jumped back as if burned. Of fucking course it was none other than Senju Tobirama in all his pale grace, towering over him with all of his inch and a half advantage, eyebrows knit together in a silent question.
‘Sorry Snowflake, must have missed you. Perhaps because you almost blended into the wall.’ Madara uttered, gesturing towards the white-painted walls. Tobirama gave him an unimpressed look.
‘You should probably wear those glasses of yours more often then. Maybe you would at least see where you’re going. Although, it’s nice to hear you’ve missed me.’ He responded in his usual irritating calm voice, with just a hint of teasing, seemingly not taking any offense. Madara on the other hand loathed the fact that Tobirama had seen him in his old glasses he didn’t like to wear but didn’t have time to replace with a newer, more fashionable type.
‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’ Madara growled back at him. This time, he almost registered something akin to regret for a fleeting moment on Tobirama’s face. But no, he must have been mistaken. The Snowflake didn’t possess such an emotional range nor did he have a reason to display it.
Either way, Tobirama said nothing more. And since Madara didn’t have any intentions to dilly-dally standing here with the infuriating (but nicely smelling) man, he made to step around him and be rid of him. That was, until Izuna’s ringing voice stopped him in his tracks.
‘No, no, no, brother mine, don’t even think you will just run away. That’s against the rules. Look above you.’ His brother pointed somewhere above his head, childish glee dancing in his dark eyes.
The Uchiha cursed under his breath as a soft ‘oh crap’ escaped out of Tobirama’s lips. It had to be his bad luck again. He was almost afraid to look up and confirm his assumption. And when he did, he could only scowl again at the piece of greenery which was hanging above him mockingly.
‘Is that…’ he stammered, only to be interrupted by gleeful Izuna.
‘Yep, a mistletoe. You know what the rules are, aniki!’ The blood traitor grinned wickedly. Whoever placed the damned thing in there was definitely gonna pay.
‘Are you fucking kidding me? A mistletoe? More like a mistlefoe.’ Madara growled while trying to set the plant aflame with the sheer power of his gaze. Up until now Tobirama didn’t say anything, which was kinda suspicious, and a quiet huff in response to his remark brought Madara’s attention back to him.
The Senju was looking anywhere but at him, biting at his lower lip as faint pink dusted his cheeks, looking incredibly flustered. The sight of him hit Madara like a brick. He was cute. Madara mostly remembered him with his impassive blank face, occasionally ruined by a frown, but that was it. That was a sum up of Tobirama’s facial expressions. He was always so self-assured, what was happening?
Still, there was no way Madara would succumb to such a cheap trick to force him out of his comfort zone. Just because Izuna said so and a green twig was dangling above their heads, it didn’t mean they had to go through with the kiss. It was such a silly tradition too. No, out of question, hard pass. Never mind he found the man he was supposed to smooch suddenly very much kissable while he was blushing like a teenage girl.
‘Well? Come on! Everyone held the tradition so you have to as well!’ Izuna hollered, getting supporting yells from several other people watching the scene. There was Touka hanging on Izuna’s elbow, Tajiro with Inoko were looking at them intently from the back of the room where they conversed with Mito. Not to mention a fair share of people he knew from around the campus. Thank gods Hashirama was nowhere in sight.
‘I don’t think that’s entirely necessary, I mean, no offense Madara, but I’m certain we’re on the same page here. And that,’ Tobirama pointed above himself at the stupid plant, ‘ is definitely not gonna happen.’ He crossed his arms and tried to outglare anyone of the spectators.
On one side, Madara agreed wholeheartedly. He wasn’t a monkey trained for amusement of others. On the other side, he kinda took the offense. So Senju Tobirama thought he was too good to kiss Uchiha Madara, huh? Oh to hell with that and anything that went through his head about definitely not kissing him. He was gonna smooch the stupid Snowflake and it was gonna be a kiss he would never forget!
Completely omitting any warning, he latched his fingers onto Tobirama’s shirt, yanked him forward and ignoring his startled yelp, smashed their lips together with furious ferocity accumulated over the years of mutual dislike. He kissed him angrily with all intentions to let go as soon as his point was made, but then he remembered this was probably the only opportunity to kiss Tobirama he would ever get in his life, because why would Tobirama even gave someone like Madara a time of the day? He was as good as dead anyway at this point.
He expected Tobirama to shove him of himself any time but instead, the man’s hands stopped flailing in panic and settled on his hips. And he responded back. Tobirama’s lips were a little chapped but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. At his own accord, he loosened the vicious grip and softened the kiss. One of his palms even made its way to Tobirama’s jaw to caress his tattooed cheek with a thumb.
But much too soon the moment passed and Madara almost had to restrict himself from mewling with displeasure when Tobirama finally interrupted the kiss. It was a nice kiss. Maybe a bit uncoordinated but definitely good. And he was left wanting more.
‘I take it you’ve been eating my lemon frosting cookies…’ Tobirama murmured quietly and licked his lips.
Madara was hypnotized by the movement and his desire to claim them once more felt almost acute. But then their own personal bubble popped and they were both rudely reminded there was a crowd of spectators around them, howling with laughter and mirth. Izuna even sealed the disaster with a wolf-whistle. At once the hands on his hips retracted and Tobirama bow his head in shame.
‘Sorry, I gotta go.’ He mumbled and skidded around Madara before the Uchiha could even utter anything. He was left standing there alone, one arm outstretched in the direction the other man disappeared in and all of his previous opinions on their relationship shattered.
‘Well? What are you gawking at? The show is over, mind your own goddamn business!’ Madara yelled furiously at the nearby people and turned on his heel to flee the crime scene as well. He needed some fresh air. And he needed to think.
The cold crisp air outside on his heated cheeks was a welcomed change. He made a few strides to hide under a nearby pine tree to shield himself from anyone barging out who might have witnessed the whole scene under the mistletoe. That dratted plant! It had no business hanging there, forcing people to kiss! Madara’s nostrils flared angrily.
Only he was actually the one to blame for the whole mess. He could have very well left the spot and maybe face a few feeble remarks about cowardice but he didn’t have to kiss Tobirama. Except… He wanted to. Now that he had time and courage to think about it, he didn’t regret his decision.
But did Tobirama? He practically ran away. Should he do something about it? He could easily leave the gift under the Christmas tree and fetch a taxi to get back home. Then they would pretend nothing happened and reversed into their usual dislike for each other. Or maybe even worse, Tobirama would stop hanging around him altogether.
That thought itself saddened him. He didn’t want that, to leave the accident unresolved, to let it fester and create an even bigger rift between them. No, he’d rather talked about it and knew what Tobirama had to say, what was going on in that silver-haired head of his. He could take a few insults if he told him to fuck off but he couldn’t tolerate silence. Not after that kiss.
Madara never thought about Tobirama that way – or perhaps better, never allowed himself to think about him that way – but now he got to taste… The possibility of what could be was rather intriguing.
As the frost was slowly getting to his bones, because of course he foolishly barged out of the house without his coat, he steeled himself and went back inside. It was, as they said, now or never.
He’d been to the house enough times to know which room belonged to Tobirama. He never got a glimpse inside but it was his best guess Tobirama’s safe space was where he would shut himself from the world. It took him a while to will himself and knock on the wood. No response. Madara bit his lip in frustration and tried again.
‘I said you won’t make out in my room, get lost!’ An aggravated voice came from the other side of the door.
Madara had to chuckle at the idea of Tobirama arriving into his room all flustered to find some strangers eating their faces on his bed.
‘That’s a pity for I wouldn’t say no to a proper make out session.’ He teased lightly.
Silence again. Madara’s smile faded and he sighed. He shouldn’t have said that. Just as he wanted to apologize and leave, the door opened a fraction.
‘What do you want?’ Tobirama peeked through the crevice, voice carefully guarded.
‘I come in peace. I just want to talk.’ Madara raised his hands in a placating gesture. He was subjected to a stare brimming with suspicion for a long moment but then the door parted for him and the occupant retreated further into his room. A clear invitation then. He ventured in and closed the door behind.
He looked around briefly to take in the room. It was iluminated only by a faint light of multicolored Christmas lights. Practically decorated, everything neatly organised and tidy. Just like he would expect from someone like Tobirama. The Senju himself was standing with his back to him, most likely waiting for him to start.
‘Umm…’ Madara scratched the back of his neck, suddenly out of words. Tobirama’s shoulders jerked up at the sound but he remained stubbornly silent.
‘I just wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t… Well, I shouldn’t force a kiss on you in front of everyone, mistletoe or not. I’m sorry that I embarrassed you.’ Madara said quietly, peeking at Tobirama’s back, suddenly feeling out of place. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Just as he was about to abort the mission and make himself scarce, Tobirama finally turned around to face him. His expression wasn’t angry as Madara expected, it was rather soft.
‘I’m not mad about it.’ He whispered. Madara could barely hear through some upbeat Daft punk song pouring loudly through the walls.
‘Uh. Okay. Well then, how do you… How do you feel about it?’ Madara took a few steps towards him with a tad bit of hope.
‘Confused. You took me by surprise. And… I didn’t hate it.’ Tobirama averted his eyes to stare at his feet. Madara couldn’t believe his ears. But then again, it came to him as an equally surprising discovery that he rather liked the kiss himself. He had to chuckle at the two of them.
‘So you didn’t hate it, huh.’ Madara parroted, still coming to terms with what it meant. Tobirama shook his head wordlessly, still not meeting his eyes.
‘Well then… What about this?’ He braved to put his index finger under Tobirama’s chin to lift it up and captured his lips a second time this evening, this time gently, hesitantly almost. Tobirama exhaled softly, brushing their lips against each other’s in a feather-like manner. They continued like this for a little while before Madara burst out a laugh, effectively ending the moment.
‘And I just did it again.’ He glimpsed at Tobirama, smirking sheepishly.
‘You did. And I didn’t hate it either.’ Tobirama inclined his head, matching the smirk with his own bashful one. Gods, they were like two smitten kids. He didn’t know what to say, his brain just reversed into his teenage years. He would cringe if it was someone else but he felt all giddy and Tobirama was smiling at him, which was, admittedly, something achingly beautiful and…
‘Oh’ I’d almost forget. I have something for you. Here.’ He fetched the gift out of his bag and offered it to the Senju, partially to distract himself from that particular train of thoughts.
‘You got me a gift? Why?’ Tobirama seemed taken aback but accepted the wrapped package all the same.
‘I’m your Secret Santa.’ Madara shrugged noncommittally.
‘Doesn’t this kind of defeat the purpose of Secret Santa?’ Tobirama chuckled. ‘Can I open it?’
‘By all means, it’s yours’. Madara nodded. Even though he hadn’t initially prepared the gift necessarily wanting to please the receiver, he was now feeling anxious whether the Senju would like it. He watched Tobirama with expectation as he carefully tore at the wrapping paper and freed the photo album out of it.
‘Oh.’ Intrigued, he sat on the bed to open it and browse through the pages. Madara felt weird hovering above him like that so he opted for sitting next to him, carefully leaving enough space between them. He didn’t want to assume too much and freak Tobirama out.
For now, he was just content studying the small changes on Tobirama’s face, his expressions of amusement and wonder rapidly becoming his favourites. Finally, Tobirama tore his eyes from the pages and turned to him. His red eyes were full of genuine gratitude and joy. How could he ever think that Tobirama only had two moods? Fool of a Uchiha.
‘You did this all by yourself?’ Tobirama rasped, voice thick with emotions.
‘Yeah. I wanted to give you something nice.’ Madara admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, feigning nonchalance again.
‘I’d never think…’ Tobirama shook his head. ‘Thank you. It’s more than I deserve.’ He averted his gaze back on the album, tenderly caressing the edges with his fingertips.
‘No, you deserve this and so much more for how I behaved to you during the past years. I’ve been so blind.’ Madara blurted out and reached for Tobirama’s hand.
‘Aww. Don’t get all soft on me all of the sudden. You enjoyed all the insults shot my way. At least I know I did enjoy those I shot right back.’ Tobirama smirked, back to his usual sassy self. Madara huffed in goodnatured exasperation.
‘Fine. Maybe I did enjoy an occasional tongue lashing or exchange of quips.’ He conceded. ‘But I still want to make it up to you. Gods know I sometimes went too far.’ He swept his thumb across Tobirama’s knuckles.
‘That’s the occupational risk, I believe.’ Tobirama set the album aside. ‘But back to the making it up business. What do you have in mind?’ He murmured and leaned closer to him, raising a challenging eyebrow at him. It sent a shiver down Madara’s spine. What a tease.
‘Mmm. Let me think. I’d take you ice skating. Then when your cheeks and nose would be properly rosy from the cold, we’d go to see the Christmas markets and get some hot spiced punch to make you warm. And then…’ Madara leaned even closer, their noses almost brushing.
‘And then?’ Tobirama breathed out huskily.
‘And then I’d ravish you thoroughly to make you even warmer. If you allowed it.’ Madara whispered, his resolve not to kiss the man yet holding on tethers.
‘Yes. I think I’d allow it.’ He felt Tobirama smiled against his lips before he sealed them together. Madara hummed in utter bliss, faintly registering that another Daft punk song, ‘Something about us’, was playing in the distance. What a cliché. And yet he knew this year’s Christmas was not going to be as bad after all.
It might not be the right time
I might not be the right one
But there's something about us I want to say
'Cause there's something between us anyway
I might not be the right one
It might not be the right time
But there's something about us I've got to do
Some kind of secret I will share with you
I need you more than anything in my life
I want you more than anything in my life
I'll miss you more than anyone in my life
I love you more than anyone in my life