This is why we have rules against fraternization with the enemy...

[tobirama]

Characters: Izuna curseofhatred & Tobirama tobirama
Verse: TBC
Status: Closed Log
Warnings: Sexual content, mindfuckery, potential triggery usage of genjutsu, all around bad things.


Continued on from Here

“No you can’t,” Tobirama’s tone suggested he didn’t understand how they’d somehow come to discuss this rather inane and trivial topic of conversation when there were far better things they could be doing at the moment. Who knew what his reaction might have been if he’d known the borderline psychopathic thoughts circling around in Izuna’s head?

He’d probably just use it to further prove his belief that the Uchiha as a whole were a clan full of lunatics and madmen no doubt.

Tobirama could not help the deficiencies of his own body and how the lack of skin pigmentation meant every little inch of flushed skin burned bright and hot. It would probably have mortified him if he’d been capable of seeing himself at that moment. He hardly resembled the normally collected, cool-headed individual he normally was. Not right now with Izuna’s mouth leaving damp little teasing nibbles along his skin which left it feeling electrified in its wake.

The fact he trusted an Uchiha so close to his throat had not escaped him and a part of the albino was screaming at him to be on his guard but it was hard when Izuna’s fingers were inside his shirt and nudging it back. Unsurprisingly, he wore ninja mesh beneath with the inborn paranoia of a shinobi. He might have abandoned his armor for this little rendezvous but just as he still carried his sword with him, so too could he not quite manage to abandon all of his training even if the light weight body armor wouldn’t do a whole lot to protect him if Izuna got it in his head to go crazy.

He had to trust the Uchiha and his tainted blood which was a prospect which should have been laughable in any other circumstances.

“I’m not dyeing my hair.” Thoroughly exasperated now, he pinned the shorter man with an aggravated look. Because of course he immediately went to the horrifying mental image of him with dark hair. Combined with his complexion and those damned eyes of his he really would look like one of those damned Uchiha and that was the very last thing Tobirama would ever want. He stood out like a sore thumb among his nearly universally brown and tanned clan but he refused to look any more like the enemy. “What is your sudden obsession with my looks, Uchiha?”

He used that clan name rather than Izuna’s given name as a means of conveying his annoyance with his entire conversation. Tobirama hadn’t been planning on accidentally trapping the other in the sleeves of his clothes as he pushed that yukata down off his shoulders but he was momentarily pleased with the outcome if only because it distracted Izuna.

The smile he offered was sharp and decidedly lupine in nature as Izuna struggled out of his yukata. It was tempting to reach out and grasp his arms and effectively trap him in his own clothing but that would probably escalate things into a fight rather than anything else. Neither of them trusted one another that far and even at their most vulnerable, Tobirama knew neither forgot just who the other was and the fact they were effectively sleeping with their mortal enemy.

“Not on purpose,” he admitted blandly and while the dark-haired man busied himself with untangling his arms from his sleeves, he shrugged off his own short-sleeved top and let it fall unhindered to the ground along with the pale yellow sash Izuna had already discarded. To his credit, Tobirama didn’t even hesitate as he snagged the bottom hem of his mesh armored top and started to tug it up over his head as well so that he and the Uchiha were at least on relatively even ground in their respective states of undress.

Comments

[curseofhatred]

Sudden obsession? It was hardly an obsession, but more of a curiosity, laying the wondering questions in the ether rather than keeping them to himself. If he didn't like his hair, change it. If it didn't work with being a shinobi, with him killing the Uchiha in front of him, then fix it. Wasn't that how it should be?

"I just want to make sure that you live up to your shinobi potential," he murmured. "I have to make sure that you're at your best so you can kill me later, right?"

Would he? Would he be able to kill him after this? How would he look at him now that things were happening? Would this fuel him on even more? How much fun was this going to be?

But then again, there were always henges. Did that mean Izuna would have to distrust everyone for awhile?

Even as he struggled with his own clothes, Izuna couldn't help but glance over as Tobirama's kimono top fell, the mesh soon to follow. Izuna hesitated in the moment, watching him, watching the expanse of skin revealed, white as the moon soon to come out. He looked for marks and bruises, for old scars, for new ones, saw his nipples and quickly looked away. Izuna was blushing, he knew it, he felt it, but he couldn't stop it. Traitorous body.

For a second, he stared, down. Now what? He had never done this before and the minor things he had witnessed lovers do had run out and there was nothing else to reference. There was only instinct, and he wasn't sure it would be enough. This sort of training didn't come to them, at least, not until they were older.

Hands found the other's hips almost blindly, before he tilted his head back up, looking up at him. Fingers let go after a heartbeat, moving to the front of the man's pants, slowly tracing the waistband softly the tips of his digits. His thumb brushed the man's navel, before he pushed his body against the albino's.

"What would you like to do tonight?" There. Leave it at his feet so Izuna's own inexperience wasn't compromised. Perfect. And besides, there was a chance that whatever the Senju said, the Uchiha would do the opposite. Wasn't that the normal for them, after all?

[tobirama]

“Of course I am, my hair does not affect my shinobi abilities.” Tobirama gifted him with a truly unimpressed look when Izuna said those next words about killing him later. He had no idea just how truthful the other teen was being and just took it to be him joking in poor taste. “Is that what you want? For me to fuck you or kill you?” He challenged, those ruddy colored eyes turned dark now that the sun had almost completely set. The horizon was more purple now than the bright vivid pinks and oranges it had been just a few moments before but there was still just enough light to see one another as they undressed.

Fireflies briefly illuminated the air around them as they lazily buzzed through the night. Thankfully, the moon was already starting to rise in the distance so they wouldn’t be completely without light as they went about their illicit affair. Perhaps it would have been easier to just meet at some neutral inn but that carried a lot of risks and chance of news somehow filtering back to their clans about their meeting.

Sure, they could have risked a fire but that would also gather unwanted attention if anyone came wandering down to the river for some reason. But even with the fading light, Izuna would still be able to make out the network of scars and healed over marks of violence on the other man’s body. He had been an active shinobi since he was old enough to hold a kunai and that violent lifestyle could be seen in his body. Thanks to the accelerated blood flow from his racing heart it seemed like most every mark flushed a little brighter against his skin, making them stand out sharper in relief. Only the shiny patches of healed over burns remained almost silvery pale…there were a lot of them especially on his arms thanks to the amount of times he’d tangled with Izuna and various other Uchiha with their damned affinity for fire. He’d claim he’d only gotten as good as he had with his suiton because Uchiha kept throwing fire in his face of course.

A particularly long and nasty slice from Izuna’s katana had nearly cleaved his right arm off last spring. His armor had absorbed a lot of the blow but the Uchiha had managed to find the seam between where pauldron and the chest guard met with almost uncanny accuracy and cleaved down deep into his shoulder. If not for Hashirama he might have bled out that day. There was also the distinctive almost star-shaped pucker of a kunai wound marking his side also courtesy of Izuna from one of their earlier blows when the Uchiha had buried one of those throwing blades in his side when they’d both been around ten. A dozen other wounds, each with its own unique story could be seen on just his torso alone including one particularly jagged scar on his chest with nearly bisected his left nipple.

It was hard to make out Izuna’s blush in the poor light but judging by way one pale brow arched ever so slightly, Tobirama had probably noticed and was questioning his supposed lover’s newfound sense of modesty. Of course, he was ill-prepared to answer the question put to him because despite Izuna weaving this illusion saying they’d been sleeping together for a while…they never had and Tobirama’s knowledge was sketchy at best. Sure, he knew the basics and had seen a few of the erotic books that were predominate in barracks but his knowledge was just that…book knowledge without any real practical applications. He’d kissed a few people and had one drunken experience where he’d found himself kissing the son of a visiting Uzumaki representative which had included a whole lot of heavy petting but that was about the full extent of his sexual knowledge.

So the question was jarring in its own right because…what did he want to do? And why was he drawing such a blank? The confusion was plain to see on his face…would Izuna recognize it as the potential disaster waiting to happen? Each teasing stroke of the other mans' fingers against his vulnerable soft belly had little frissons of pleasure shooting through Tobirama's groin and it made him almost painfully hard inside his pants. This close, the Uchiha would be able to see and even feel the hard length of him pressing up against him.

“I’m not sure. Let’s just keep this up and see how we feel.” He finally muttered and bent his head down to press his mouth against the hollow of the shorter man’s neck and this time he indulged himself in drawing in the scent of Izuna’s skin more fully. One hand stole around back and caught some of that loose banner of inky black hair to test its suppleness and softness. He couldn’t say why exactly but he just wanted to experience what it felt like to let that silky hair spill through his fingers. Such long hair was hindrance and a danger but like so many Uchiha, Izuna scorned practically and boldly wore his hair long despite the fact it could be used a handhold or a way to grip him against him.

[curseofhatred]

"Are you saying you wouldn't?" he challenged lightly back, voice low, quiet. "Would you spare my life on the battlefield if we met tomorrow?" These were questions he knew he shouldn't ask; had they already discussed this in their false memories anyway? Had they talked about how nothing could really stay their blades? Was this part of their payment for this lifestyle?

But it wasn't true. None of it was true, and he had to remember that. He had to remember that this wasn't real, that Tobirama was nothing but a pawn for his own goal. That he didn't matter. That these fake recollections didn't matter.

It really was too good.

In the darkness, Izuna could make out the scars, their placement, their size. Did he really need to, however, when he was the illustrator on the canvas of his body? His weapons had placed them like an artist, each one his own design, a work he helped create. Until they were both laid to the ground to rest, Izuna's mark and memory would be on this world, dug permanently into that flesh.

In that way, Tobirama was his long before this genjutsu had ever begun.

Fingers drifted over the one on his arm, slowly, carefully. It had healed beautifully, hadn't it? It had been a stunning shot, a perfect slice caught between his armor. For a moment, Izuna had been surprised; it was a lucky shot at best, but then Tobirama had moved and taken his blade with him, and Izuna knew. He knew. Blood was in the air, thick and cloying in his nose, and he knew. His brother had congratulated him that day, had been proud.

Izuna was a map of scars as well, though, the skin dotted with them. There was a circle over his hip where one of those damn water projectiles caught him, a line down his narrow back where the other cut him with his cursed sword; that had bled for hours, oozed for days. His knee made noises still from when it was dislocated in a fight with the damn Senju, a little symphony when the world was quiet. He wondered, then, if that made him as much the other man's, too.

This was so trying.

And so was the genjutsu. He realized his own error too late, that question settling into Tobirama's mind and making him question. Izuna pulled away for an instant, trying to keep his own face curious and hiding the cautious pensiveness that lurked beneath. He funneled a little more chakra into the genjutsu just in case, trying to stitch up the seams lest they break and spill out, trying to take him a little deeper. Izuna wasn't ready yet, dammit. He wasn't--

"Hmm, leave it to a Senju to not have a clear course of action," he teased, trying to draw him back into the goading, into the respective roles. That was comfortable, that was familiar, and--and Tobirama was kissing his neck. There was a shiver that ran through his body, unexpected, as he gasped softly. So, that was what it felt like? No wonder Tobirama made just the most beautiful of sounds.

And his hair... Was he touching his hair? In the jutsu, it was carefully brushed, each knot removed, each strand neatly washed. Thick, heavy, but all Uchiha had those thick manes, hair that one could touch and braid and make a home in. The feeling of someone toying with it aroused him more than he could admit; it was his pride, it was his banner, it was his acknowledgement that no matter how strong an opponent thought they were, Izuna disagreed. It was his arrogance and it was being touched. No one had dared to before.

Did Izuna just utter the other man's name, whispering it against his neck? He might have, just like hands hand might hand dipped down, beneath the waistband at his hips, feeling the bone and muscle there. Nerves kept him from moving his hand forward, towards the front, but he pushed himself against it slowly, rolling his hips like a wave against him. His legs were shaking. The bedroll might be necessary soon.

[tobirama]

“I’d try and avoid finding you on the battlefield. However, if you were trying to kill me or my clan then I’m going to do my duty. Yes, I would try to avoid a killing blow but you and I both know whatever this thing is between us, our clans and duties come first.” Tobirama shot back equally quiet. “And maybe one day our brothers’ mad ideas about peace might come to pass and we can finally meet one another in the open but until then, we’ll have to make do with this.”

Even in these false memories and the illusion they couldn’t put the bad blood between them fully to rest. There was always going to be that schism that existed between Uchiha and Senju for as long as their clans fought with each other. Hoping for anything more…hoping for some lasting romance or love was impossible for men like them and that sad knowledge was reflected in the somber look in Tobirama’s eyes as he looked down at his lover. Would Izuna find that vague air of regretful sadness a surprise?

He reached for his so-called lover then and mapped out the various textures and ridges of the scars he’d left on his body over the years. They’d done their level best to kill one another and it showed but also tied them together in a strange way. Tobirama didn’t know it was just the genjutsu tricking his mind into thinking the things that had happened…were happening weren’t real but the emotions it evoked inside of him were certainly real enough. His thumb traced the circular scar on Izuna’s hip right above the waistband of his trousers and the calluses that edged the pad of his finger from too many hours gripping weaponry rasped against the texture of his own mark left indelible and permanent on the Uchiha’s body.

“Leave it to an Uchiha to rush head first into matters without getting the lay of the land first.” That taunt was followed up by a hint of teeth as sank them into the pale column of the dark-haired man’s neck. It wasn’t hard enough to cause any real damage but the subtle warning in the gesture was unmistakable all the same. His tongue laved the abused skin when he let go and he suckled at it softly just because he enjoyed the husky sound of that gasp in his ear. Izuna enjoyed the attention as much as he had and he made note of it…though why would he need to do so when he should already know that about his lover?

Tobirama would never admit it out loud but he was shocked at how pleasant the sensation of those cool strands of hair felt sliding through his fingers. It was as soft as he imagined a woman’s hair would be and nothing like the thick bristle he’d always—always?—imagined it to be. Of course, most of the time he only saw Izuna in the midst of battle with sweat matting both their hairs and that long pony tail whipping about like the tail of a temperamental cat as the Uchiha spun and wheeled around to strike out at the enemy.

“Izuna…” he breathed the other’s name in counterpoint to that near silent whisper that barely reached his ears thanks to the way the Uchiha had buried it into the skin of his neck. Tobirama’s fingers curled and looped through that thick mane of hair as he felt Izuna’s questing fingers dip down beneath the edge of his pants to seek out his hips and the lean muscles there. A quiet groan escaped him with that first teasing rock of hips against his own and the hand resting at the shorter man’s waist tightened ever so slightly as his own knees went a little bit unsteady and weak. “Gods, I want you. No more games, just want you.” There was an edge of desperate vulnerability in that confession and one that would no doubt shame him later but for now it was the truth.

[curseofhatred]

Peace. Peace with the Senju, the people that killed his brothers, his clan. The blood would always rain, it had to until they were defeated, because his loved ones had been so savagely taken from him. It had been so long that he barely remembered what his brothers' voices sounded like any more, lost on tangles of time and fading memories. Did he even understand what that felt like?

Of course he did. He had suffered in the same way, but...it was different. It had to be different. They were liars, beneath them, crooked,wrong. They didn't understand. Couldn't.

But the way Tobirama was looking at him, that damn quiet look with those eyes, those eyes. Izuna stared up, half-hiding his surprise. Was that the genjutsu or him? Was that--that real?

No. No, it wasn't. Couldn't be. Every expression, every promise, every word were all things like this, little things that didn't mean anything outside of this make-believe realm. He believed he should feel sad about it because it was the only thing standing between the two of them. Why would it be any semblance of truth when this entire place was a lie?

"Damn you, Tobira--" But the curse cut off as he felt those teeth, his eyes fluttering shut and his air rushing out in a contented sigh. Fingers tightened on those hips, blunt nails digging into the skin as he pushed into him harder, more insistent. Was there a mark there on his skin? Not that it mattered; there were no warring brothers to make note of it, to question the existence of teeth-ringed bruises, and he realized that Tobirama could mark him all he wanted to.

The same couldn't be said about his own marking of Tobirama. The man would probably bristle and lecture him about being found out, which could just damage the genjutsu as a whole. Lucky bastard.

His name sounded good on his lips, breathed out like that, and he backed away enough to kiss him, to taste whatever syllables that still lurked on the tip of his tongue. Those hands in his hair, on his waist, they made him tense and weak at the same time, and if he hadn't been in control of this dream all along, he might have thought the other was using a jutsu on him, something getting him at the core.

Those words didn't help.

"Bedroll. Now." Bossy, eternally bossy, but he pulled away a little after a final roll of his hips, before he made his way to where it was softer and rocks were unable to hurt them. Kneeling down, a little smirk played at his lips, hiding the uncertainty as best he could; was it leaking through? Showing? His own nervousness? He hoped not.

[tobirama]

Tobirama understood that dilemma better than Izuna even realized. But the sad truth of the matter was, he was just as tired of this war as everyone else. Unlike Itama, he’d never seen the point in craving retribution for the deaths of his brothers. Hashirama was the broad-minded one who could look at Uchiha and see the hope for peace while Tobirama was simply more practical. Blood beget blood, hatred begets hatred and the cycle would continue unabated so long as both sides clung to their hatred and need for revenge.

Perhaps it would surprise the Uchiha to learn this accomplished and deadly warrior longed for peace just as much as his optimistic elder brother but unlike Hashirama, he secretly doubted it would come to pass. Because there were too many people like Izuna on either side. People who wanted to avenge the deaths of their loved ones despite the fact that they in turn just perpetuated the cycle.

For Tobirama it was something else entirely. He’d lost his taste for revenge killings when he’d felt Kawarama’s death from a distance all those many years ago. His youngest brother had been winked out swiftly and so fast Tobirama hadn’t even understood what had happened at first. From his youngest days when his sensing abilities had become known, he’d made a habit of monitoring his brothers and father on the battlefield. That way he’d always know when one was getting tired or worn out from too much chakra usage and might need help or relief. Unfortunately, that habit was a double-edged sword because he’d felt the moment the Hagoromo ninja cut his head neatly off his shoulders. Just one second and another his brother’s chakra had been there and then it hadn’t.

Itama’s death a mere few weeks later however had been far more traumatizing for the young sensor. The Uchiha who killed him hadn’t been interested in a quick or clean death. They’d tormented Itama slowly as they surrounded him and Tobirama had felt the way his brother’s chakra slowly bled out of him over the course of almost half an hour. Hashirama had been the one to discover Itama’s body but Tobirama had felt him die and it had traumatized him more deeply than he’d ever let anyone know. Even Hashirama himself didn’t know about that and it was a secret he would carry with him to his grave.

If he ever had to experience Hashirama’s death…he didn’t know how he could bear that. But at the rate this war was going, it was only a matter of time before even his seemingly invulnerable brother fell as well. Tobirama just silently prayed he was long dead and gone before that happened. Perhaps he would fall beneath the blade of the very man he was currently sleeping with? There would be a sort of irony in that…killed by his own lover who also happened to be his greatest foe. It was almost poetical which was hilarious considering Tobirama was the least poetic person.

He heard and felt the reaction Izuna gave to that bite and quietly filed it away. As much as he’d love to mark his lover up, the pragmatic part of the Senju knew placing lovebites and bruises on such a highly visible part of his lover’s body was just asking for nosy questions and attention. Admittedly, he didn’t particularly care of Izuna had to field prying questions from his brother about why he had a love mark on his neck but it might be enough to cause someone as astute and suspicious as Madara to dig deeper and try and find out who his brother’s secretive lover was and that could very well be their undoing so he pulled away reluctantly with one final lick to the now warm and damp skin.

Perhaps he could leave his mark in a less visible place. That idea appealed to him more than Tobirama wanted to admit but he liked the idea of leaving Izuna with a mark he could feel underneath his clothes where no one else would know about it. Something that would linger on for days or even a week or two that would be like a secret shared just between the two of them. Would that be enough to satisfy him until the next time they managed to sneak away? These meetings of theirs were sporadic and unpredictable at best. It had been almost two months since the last time they’d managed to see one another in secret and who knew how long it would be till they could meet again. But he was finding the more they did this, the more he craved and longed for his secret lover and that was both dangerous and terrifying in its own right.

“Bossy Uchiha,” Tobirama snorted and because he wasn’t in the habit of following Uchiha orders, he deliberately tarried for a few moments by busying himself with removing his sandals and the cloth wrappings from around his shins mainly because it was easier to do it standing than while they were both crowded on that cramped bedroll.

[curseofhatred]

Revenge killings weren't something that Izuna wanted; he craved them. Needed them. Ached for them in the very pits of his soul. Explanations tried to work its way into his mind: that the people that hurt his brothers shouldn't be allowed to live, that they were the reasons everything had gone to hell, that the people that destroyed his family shouldn't be allowed to walk, to breathe, to live. Why should they, when his siblings were no longer around to draw breath, when they had suffered, too?

It was a worm in his heart, eating the fruit from the inside out. He had loved his brothers, loved all of them so fiercely, that--

It didn't matter. It didn't. How he felt for the dead would only fuel him on, push him to new heights. How it brought the hate out to the people that did this to him. To them all. That equality in grief that would level all the fields.

But, for the moment, he wasn't thinking about it, not consciously but it always lingered where he couldn't see. Instead, he was making a face at the other man, some scowling thing that could have been a pout if one squinted enough. Bossy? Hm.

"I am only bossy because you're going too slow." He tossed his head, hair swaying as he screwed his lips up tight. "You know I don't like to be kept waiting." Boredom. Boredom was a real fear, worry. Boredom gave him time to think...

But watching the sandals being discarded, those wrappings being peeled away, that drove the worst of the thoughts away. He knew he should take off the bandages near his own ankles, but he found he would rather watch Tobirama instead. Besides, maybe it would be nice for the damn Senju to work for this, to have to unwrap him as well, to treat him like a gift. Like the prize he was.

Izuna rolled his eyes, trying not to be swayed by the movement of each piece of fabric the other removed. Shifting off his knees, he laid back on the bedroll, hair fanning around him, wide, beautiful. A playful smile ticked at his lips while he held up one hand and examined his nails. "I'm bored, Tobirama," he sighed (because he refused to admit it was a whine), chest elongating as he stretched, toes curling. "Come here."

[tobirama]

It only served to prove everything he had to say about the Uchiha and how their so called tainted blood and the irrevocable link between their doujutsu and the madness which seemed to stalk their bloodline went hand in hand together.

“Contrary to what you might think, I was not put on this earth just for your convenience, Izuna.” Tobirama definitely sneered a little at him now and stubbornly kept unwinding those wrappings from around first one leg and then the other. He was obsessive compulsive enough that they were even neatly coiled up before they were neatly deposited inside his discarded sandals.

“I could quote some trite proverb about how good things come to those who wait but quite frankly, I doubt you’d care. I however don’t feel like getting my clothing filthy just because you can’t be patient for two minutes.” Izuna had already gotten his top and sash dirty and really, he had no one to blame for his mesh but himself but he’d been kind of in the moment. Now however, Tobirama intended on taking proper care of his gear. Besides, perhaps the Uchiha would stop his pouting when he finally got around to undoing the ties of his pants and gracefully stepped out of them one leg at a time until he was standing there in just his fundoshi alone.

His legs bore even more scars than his arms thanks to the number of times he’d injured himself perfecting this jutsu or that jutsu. His attempts to improve upon the shunshin currently left him with shins that were black and blue from repeated crashes into various objects as he tried to perfect his jutsu. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, he just needed to find a way of controlling it and that…had escaped him so far. The fact that the war didn’t give him a lot of time to work on his pet projects didn’t help much either. His suiton techniques were a perfect example of how badly a jutsu could turn against you if you didn’t have perfect control. Just as Izuna had been scored by his water release more than once over the years, so too had Tobirama’s more dangerous techniques turned against its user as well while he’d been working on ways to improve or better them.

The Senju wasn’t the self-conscious type but even he had to admit he felt rather awkward just standing there on display in just his loin-cloth. His erection stood out hard and unmistakable where it strained against the fabric of his fundoshi and he debated whether or not he was ready to be completely naked in front of the Uchiha. It was strange he should feel that way considering Izuna had seen him naked and more before…right? A slightly puzzled look briefly flickered across the albino ninja’s face.

But in truth, the appealing sight of Izuna laying there with that thick curtain of hair pooling all around him was enough to distract him from his puzzlement. All he wanted to do was lie down next to him and explore every inch of that pale body. Lust ended up winning out over logic for once and he sank down to his knees next to the Uchiha and laid one hand on the man’s chest to pin him there lightly. “Are you an adult or a small child in need of nap? I can’t seem to recall at the moment.” Those chastising words were followed by a hard kiss that ended in a playful nip to the dark-haired man’s lower lip.

[curseofhatred]

"Are you sure that you weren't, Senju?" Could he unwind any slower? Seriously, Izuna watched him with a curious glance, but it sped up nothing. Those wrappings were unwound, then rewound without the legs, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Was Tobirama doing this on purpose? Being this slow intentionally?

"It has been much longer than two minutes." A little smirk, a little huff of an insulted sigh, and a hand waved with all the annoyed patience of an old man. Was this how it could be with them, banter and teasing, moments that felt almost deceivingly easy? Could this all have been real, lurking under the surface the entire time? "It has easily been three minutes. Three and a half by my count."

His thoughts were foolish, though, and he knew it. If he wanted a moment to breathe, to stop this and collect himself, he wasn't getting it, not as he watched the other step out of his pants and ...just be there. Exist in all his scarred and bruised glory. Izuna looked at every mark, knowing they weren't from his genjutsu weaving, but from Tobirama's; this was his form when...almost naked. Those were the true bruises, the real scars. If he cut the clothes from the man in the real world, his legs would look the same.

Would the same hardened outline behind that thin piece of fabric be there, too?

Izuna was staring too long, and when that look passed over Tobirama's face, he was ready to tighten the jutsu. But his worries were extinguished as the Senju came to him on his own, willing, that question gone. He looked better up close, more real, and the hand on his chest, stilling him, made Izuna's heart hammer. It was calloused and rough, strong, and his own chest was narrow and made up of tight, wiry muscles. That little chastising earned the white-haired bastard a growl and a narrowing of his eyes.

"I can show you how much of an adult I am, if that's what you want," he murmured. But then there was that kiss stealing his breath right from his lungs, making his arms reach up and wind up loosely around the other's neck. The tips of his fingers ran along the top of Tobirama's shoulders, his back broader than his own, a bigger target than his own. Eyes opened just a sliver when he got that playful nip to his lip, daring.

His teeth felt good, intoxicatingly good.

Knees bent, feet flat as they dug into the bedroll, he tried to control himself as much as he could next to a nearly nude enemy. Attractive. Sleek. But a man he should be killing, slaughtering, dismembering. Those wills were gone for the moment, though, and his arms left his neck to run down the albino's chest instead. He felt the scars, felt the marks, felt the muscles beneath his touch, as many different terrains as the world had. His thumb brushed over that once-wounded nipple, then down over his stomach. And all the while, his eyes were on Tobirama, on his face, on his eyes.

You should be ugly, hideous and disgusting. You are the embodiment of my hate.

So, why aren't you?

[tobirama]

“Three and a half minutes, however have you managed to not expire from boredom yet?” Tobirama murmured laconically as a thoroughly deadpan look overtook his expression. One certainly didn’t look at the near humorless and emotionless warrior Izuna had faced across the battlefield and thought there could be a sense of humor beneath all of that icy disdain but as this genjutsu was showing, that wasn’t necessarily the case. The man’s humor was dry and understated but it was also surprisingly subversive and devious.

Their playful banter back and forth might have been all sardonic words but the normal bite to their insults was lacking and instead was colored with an overtone of fondness and perhaps even…affection? Was that just Tobirama’s perception coloring the genjutsu or something else? Of course for him, this was all very real and there was genuineness to the man’s reactions which betrayed how far he’d fallen under the illusion’s sway.

He could feel the rapid beat of Izuna’s heart beneath his chest beneath his palm and he marveled at how a body so slim and seemingly weak could bring so much wanton destruction to the battlefield. But anyone who looked at Uchiha Izuna with his slender frame and thought him weak was a fool who deserved what was coming to them. Because he was all ripcord muscles and lean, long lines which held its own measure of strength without the extra burden of bulked up muscles. Lithe summarized Izuna very well and Tobirama found he very much approved of the body usually hidden beneath those awful baggy Uchiha clan clothes. Those rough fingers splayed out across the slim chest for a moment before shifting ever so slightly so he could run the pad of his thumb across the Uchiha’s nipple teasingly as they kissed.

When he finally pulled back from that heated and passionate kiss, Tobirama carried with him the lingering traces of Izuna on his tongue and in his mouth. It was borderline addicting in its own way.

“I think I can puzzle that out on my own.” He whispered roughly and that long-fingered hand skated down the length of Izuna’s torso until he met the crisp material of his pants. But instead of pausing there, that wandering hand continued down further until the heel of his palm was pressing lightly against Izuna’s length where it pressed hard and insistent against the front of his pants. It was a bold move but one perhaps you’d expect out of a warrior like Tobirama. He was cagey about engaging on the battlefield but once he decided to go on the attack, he did so with a fearless sort of assuredness. The fact that that boldness translated to the bedroom wasn’t too surprising when you thought about it.

The red color of Tobirama’s eyes was lost in the near darkness now but he met the Uchiha’s gaze unflinchingly even as they both explored the other’s bodies under the cover of night. Already, the moon was beginning to peak out over the trees and soon enough might be strong enough to cast shadows but for now, they were trapped in some strange limbo between sunset and moonrise where the only real illumination could be found in the occasional flicker of a firefly.

[curseofhatred]

What they were, what they could become, it was almost like a mockery of their entire past. If this was here, these little teasing fragile moments that were familiar and comfortable, why weren't they always doing this? Why wasn't this already theirs?

But he knew. He always knew.

Death was cruel motivator, but a motivator all the same. Hate, even moreso. They were as much a master to be obeyed as the head of the clan itself, as much his brother, a living entity inside his head. Was he a puppet to it? Was he in charge of his emotions, or were they in charge of him?

He could have laughed. How foolish was it that Tobirama was so blissfully ignorant in this genjutsu, at peace, while Izuna --the caster-- suffered far worse, far greater moral questions? It was backfiring. Stupidly backfiring. But dammit, how he felt didn't matter as long--as long as he got that --

That thumb against his nipple made him moan, some tortured whimpering thing into the kiss until the albino broke away. Izuna followed him, his forehead finding Tobirama's, his lips parted as he breathed hard, breathed quick, as if could still grab the other's air into his lungs. He started to sit up, hair shifting with him, but he stopped when that hand was there. Blunt and sure and Izuna was surprised the other had it in him, even if he was just like that on the field.

What was romance other than a battlefield, anyway?

His arousal was strong, welcoming that hand, hard and wanting more. Legs spread a little, his back arching off the bedroll as his shoulders drop down once more. If it felt this good through the fabric, the clothes, how would it be when it was skin to skin?

But he couldn't let Tobirama be the first to accomplish it, to know it, to fucking beat him. So, dark eyes half-drunk on the lust and the lust of power, he slid his hand into the other man's fundoshi, fingers wrapping around that length. It was warm and hard and Izuna thought of how unsure he was in that very moment. Did Tobirama like it how he did it? Differently? Slow? Fast? Hard?

Tch. What did it matter? This was just a damn dream. He would take whatever was given to him.

So Izuna was careful about how tight he was, but he started to stroke him, base to tip inside that fabric. The motion was slow but not lazy, speed something to be earned with sounds and motions. He licked his lips, his breath still coming in quick bursts.

"A...are you sure?" he hissed. "I...I wouldn't want there t-to be any doubt."

[tobirama]

Because what they had here was nothing but a lie. A carefully crafted and incredibly realistic lie perhaps but a lie all the same. Once the genjutsu was broken, there was no way Tobirama would look at him with such softness in those red eyes or touch him with such teasingly gentle hands.
No doubt once he realized he’d been duped to such a degree, he’d be furious with Izuna and it would just spur him on further to try and kill the Uchiha. For now though, he was lost in this fantasy world Izuna had crafted and for a few short hours at least, was more than happy to lay down with the enemy.

Tobirama hungrily swallowed down that moan and every breathy sound Izuna made because he was quickly—or was he just remembering because surely he’d discovered these sounds before—realizing how addicting those groans and husky sounding whimpers could be. Those slender fingers curled around the hard length of the Uchiha’s erection through the layers of his clothing but he was ill-prepared for Izuna suddenly taking the initiative as well. Suddenly, Izuna had his fingers inside his fundoshi and was wrapping those far too clever fingers around him.

The groan that escaped the Senju was utterly honest and the surprised look that flickered across that sharp-featured face could be seen in the paleness of the moonlight. Tobirama bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to stifle anymore of those embarrassingly artless sounds. No one’s hand but his own had ever touched his cock but Izuna moved his hand with such confidence that the albino ninja wholeheartedly believed this wasn’t the first time he’d touched him in such a way.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, bastard.” He grumbled and that hand moved away so that he could concentrate on undoing the Uchiha’s pants. Tobirama was inordinately proud of the fact that his fingers were steady and didn’t fumble once as he undid the closure and made some much needed room so he could skim his fingers inside. Of course, considering the dark-haired man not only still had his leg wraps on and was already laying down it would just make the process of undressing him all that much harder.

Much to his dismay though, the other man kept his pace almost torturously slow and Tobirama’s hips jerked in an aborted attempt to buck into the Uchiha’s grip. Izuna would discover he was uncut during his exploration of the Senju’s length and that he was pleasantly well-endowed without being over the top so to speak. If he hadn’t been in the middle of getting a pretty spectacular handjob, no doubt the albino ninja would have been embarrassed by how damp the thin material of his fundoshi was becoming in front from all the pre-cum that was leaking from the head of his penis but as it stood, he couldn’t even spare a second to be mortified by his reaction.

“Gods, shut up and get out of those damned pants before I cut them off of you.” Tobirama finally growled the words almost against Izuna’s mouth.

[curseofhatred]

Bossy and demanding. Izuna expected nothing else out of the Senju, and in that respect, they weren't so different. Sure, the Uchiha's way of speaking was possibly a little worse, but hearing those words, he knew that Tobirama felt as he did, wanted as he did, lusted as he did. It...was comforting, lie or not.

The confidence with which Izuna stroked was just a bravado front: if he committed, if he believed in it, then Tobirama would, too. He moved the way he liked it to feel on himself, not the hurried moments when there was less than a minute to come and clean up when the urges were too demanding, but the episodes where he had longer, longer to think, the fantasize. Slow first. Lingering. Learning. From bottom to tip, then back down again. Tobirama's felt different than his own, though, a little larger, uncircumcised; his own was cut (old clan traditions died hard), a shade larger than average, and had the barest of leans to the left.

The fact that Tobirama was bigger made him almost scowl. No, he did scowl, but he hid it under the remark over his clothes. Sure. He was angry about losing his outfit. Let him think that.

But the fingers were opening his pants, slipping inside, and he flushed as that calloused hand was down there. He was hard, so hard, against his own fundoshi, and he knew he was slick from his own pre-cum. Was it Tobirama, the feeling of that body, or the fact that he himself was controlling, manipulating all of this? Maybe everything. Probably everything.

"Who is bossy now?" he hissed against that mouth, knowing that he couldn't do such a thing; what would Madara say if he came back without pants? What excuse could he give? Removing his hand, he shoved the other back, away, enough that he could sit up. The wrappings from around his legs were removed with a quick, hurried motion, at one point tearing but it didn't stop him: one, then the other tossed away, unfurling and lying in long lengths on the grass like motionless, white snakes. The pants were already unfastened, so he laid back down, raised his hips and wiggled them down over his hips, his thighs, then kicking them off to wherever without a worry, his fundoshi quick to follow.

And he laid there in his pale, naked glory. There was a burn scar on the top of his right thigh, fire training with his brother gone awry. There was a sharp scar from where another one of the Tobirama's kunai had caught him in the left calf. A birthmark, purple and almost bird shaped, was on his inner thigh, small, no bigger than the pad of a thumb. His body was a roadmap of eighteen years.

Izuna blushed. He attempted not to acknowledge it as he reached over and grabbed the other man's only remaining article of clothing, and tugged on it in hopes of breaking it, tearing it. It was the one thing that he could get away with going home without.

"Are you happy now, your royal highness?"

[tobirama]

His gambit paid off and the albino ninja absolutely bought the lie hook line and sinker. Under normal circumstances, Tobirama didn’t have a lot of time to indulge in long and drawn-out explorations of his own body and sexuality. Usually, he tended to look on the sudden attacks of his own libido as something trying and exasperating or something to be dealt with as quickly as possible so that he could turn his attention to more important matters.

Izuna however was teaching him that perhaps simply taking your time every now and then wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Though Tobirama found himself wanting more and the damned Uchiha just refused to give it to him.

“Just saying, you could have taken care of this earlier instead of just lying there whining about how I was keeping you waiting.” He wrapped his fingers around Izuna’s length and began to return the favor. The feeling was nearly the same though he couldn’t miss the distinct lack of foreskin which was puzzling and a little horrifying all at the same time. Why on earth would anyone let another human being cut off a portion of their dick was beyond him. But finding out the Uchiha had strange customs was hardly surprising to the Senju.

He didn’t resist when his lover shoved him back though he was somewhat reluctant to pull his hand free of the other man’s fundoshi. Still, he fell back on his haunches and began the process of unwinding his own loin cloth though he found himself pausing mid-way when Izuna succeeded in finally drawing off his clothes. Even the darkness couldn’t mask the blatant hunger on that sharp-featured face as he took in the sight of the Uchiha utterly bared to see finally.

Those red eyes traveled over every ridge and blemish in that pale skin, sometimes recognizing his own handywork and sometimes not. Perhaps to a civilian, their scarred bodies might have been something ugly or undesirable but for a ninja, each wound was a permanent token left on their bodies as a reminder they’d face down death and lived to see another day.

That oddly shaped birthmark in particular intrigued Tobirama and he silently wondered what sort of sounds he could draw out of the other man as he traced and mapped out the uneven lines of that vaguely bird-shaped mark with the tip of his tongue. He found his lustful thoughts interrupted rudely however by those insistent hands tugging sharply at his last piece of clothing and Tobirama sharply closed his hands around Izuna’s wrists to hold them still before he managed to rip the cloth from his body.

“Do you mind, I’m more than capable of disrobing without your help.” He snapped sharply and squeezed the Uchiha’s wrists once in warning.

[curseofhatred]

The circumcision custom was based around virility, strength, rank, and the idea of control, Senju. Do not pass judgment onto a deeply historical tradition that wasn't meant to be understood by some such as yourself.

Not that he was thinking anything of the sort (though the feeling of the foreskin was foreign and different); instead he was transfixed on the subtle red of the other's eyes watching him, staring at him, learning every piece of his body. There was a fragile moment where Izuna felt self-conscious, wondering just how much the other was memorizing. If he ever brought it up, ever was foolish enough to say anything about it, Izuna would tell him that it wasn't real, that this body and its marks and forms and sex size wasn't a legitimate representation at all.

Even if it was. He hadn't thought to change what he looked like, but Tobirama didn't know that. He could simply let the albino go to his grave thinking that he showed himself to Izuna, but that he had never returned the favor.

Revenge. Petty and small, but there all the same.

Those hands wrapped his wrists, and he glared at the other man, something caught between a pout and an angry scowl as he felt the grip squeeze. "You are, but it's at the pace of a turtle. Maybe a snail." He smirked as he pushed his feet to the ground and managed to sit up, hair falling down around his shoulders, his back, his chest. "Is that a summon animal for you? Perhaps a sloth?"

He tugged on his arms, once, before he leaned forward, gaze heavy in the shadows of the coming night. Izuna didn't beg. Uchiha didn't beg, wouldn't, didn't have it in their bones, their nature, their blood. But he would demand, order, because it was easier than admitting that he was doing the opposite.

"If you leave me waiting any more, I will finish myself," he threatened, the tone teasing a note of need, of lust, of intoxication on wanton desires. "I won't let you touch me at all and leave you to watch."

[tobirama]

Even in the heat of battle, had Tobirama looked at him quite so intensely? It might have been unsettling in other circumstances the way the other man watched him as though trying to burn every inch of him into his memory.

The Senju didn’t have the benefit of the Sharingan to aid him in memorizing and recording everything he saw though his proficiency and versatility in jutsu certainly spoke highly of his intelligence and ability to memorize. He might not be at Uchiha level but the other man wasn’t a slouch in the memory department either.

And this…this he wanted to remember. He couldn’t even explain the intensity of his own desire because it wasn’t as though he’d never seen Izuna naked before…right? They’d been lovers for months and had slept together before but for some reason, this felt almost like it was the first time he’d seen the other man in such a state and he couldn’t understand why it affected him as deeply as it did.

Of course, Izuna effectively ruined the moment by trying to rip his fundoshi off his body and those sharp red eyes turned back to a more familiar glare. The air between them all but snapped with that familiar antagonism. But unlike in real life where such things would inevitably turn bloody and into a fight, in this dream world at least, another avenue was available. He leaned down and nipped at Izuna’s lower lip sharply in an attempt to shut the other teen up.

“You talk too damned much.” He didn’t fight Izuna when he tried to pull his hands free but instead went back to undoing his underthings until he too was as naked as the Uchiha. There was definitely a sense of vulnerability in being bared to the world like this. Even if the only person for miles around to see him was Izuna who was—supposedly—his lover, he still felt his cheeks begin to grow hot once more with a flush.

A look that was both surly and uncertain all at once crossed the Senju’s face as he tossed his funjoshi off to the side as well and he restlessly let his hands fall to his side rather than move to preserve his modesty or something equally silly. “There, happy?”

[curseofhatred]

Whether it was the nip or the moment, Izuna did shut up, finding the words stalling on his lips. Even after the condemnation (he didn't talk too damn much! it was simply that Tobirama didn't talk enough), he didn't feel the urge to angry, to bite back; his scowl even softened to a mild curiosity and a flushed awkwardness.

Naked. They were both naked, and vulnerable and exposed. He could see what his hands had touched, and it was better with his eyes than anything his mind could have produced, strong and shimmering with the wet of the precum. The foreskin looked...odd, but not bad. Just different.

Tobirama looked like a man. Not a Senju, not an Uchiha, but a man, and he wasn't sure how he should feel about it. Equal? Simple? Basic? Aroused? Ashamed?

Cheeks flared pink, but he crawled to his knees, one of his hands going to the albino's cheek as he leaned in and kissed him, slow, careful. The attitude from early was taking a temporary stay as he pulled himself in close, tasting his humility, his humanity, their own mutual nervousness. It was sweet, that momentary break, something he would never get to know again.

Izuna wouldn't forget it.

He pulled back without even attempting to taste his tongue, his eyes cut jewels as they caught the moonlight. "Mm," he answered, before one hand caught the Senju's shoulder and shoved him onto his ass. Smirking in the comfort of that ego, he slid onto the other's lap, one leg on either side of him as his arms loosely wrapped around the other's shoulders, hands hanging relaxed behind his neck.

When he leaned in, his cock pressed against the other man's and it felt electric, intense. That--that was unexpected. His body straightened, his heart hammering as his damp lips parted, and without thinking he pushed himself up to run his arousal the entire length. His body trembled slightly from sensations, from anxiousness, from every new thing that surrounded him, a new realm that seemed so unfamiliar and exhilarating.

"...Are you, Senju?"

[tobirama]

The white-haired ninja could have handled Izuna’s anger or even the sharp-edged teasing they’d indulged in so far. That at least was familiar enough to the barbed words they often exchanged across the battlefield. What he couldn’t handle was the unexpected softness the Uchiha suddenly exuded. He’d never thought to see such softness in Izuna’s face much less finding it directed his way.

Yet there the other man was leaning into his personal space with a surprisingly gentle hand resting warm and soft against his cheek before he found himself being drawn into a slow and languid kiss. It was felt far more intimate than any they had exchanged thus far and he found himself at a slight loss. Tobirama ‘knew’ they were lovers because the genjutsu had fooled him into thinking that but he’d never really thought of them as such until that instant. Before, it had just felt like this was another extension of their normal prickly relationship interspaced with hurried and rushed spurts of pleasurable fumbling.

Because that had been the whole sum of what they’d truly shared and even on a subconscious level, his mind was trying to fight the illusion. But when Izuna kissed him like that, when he looked at him with that softness in those normally gem-hard eyes, the Senju found himself at a loss.

That confusion allowed the other ninja to get the upper hand on him shamefully easy and he found himself being shoved back onto his rear. And just as suddenly he found himself with a lap full of naked Uchiha when Izuna crawled into it and claimed it like it was his right to do so. Distantly, he became aware of the weight of the other man’s arms looped loosely across his shoulders but most of Tobirama’s attention was suddenly focused on his groin where the other man’s length was rubbing against his own erection in a horrifically distracting manner.

The hoarse sound that escaped the other man might have been a groan but it sounded almost pained and the surprised look that flashed across the Senju’s face might have been funny in other circumstances. As it was his hands came to rest against the dark-haired man’s hips almost instinctively.

“Gods, you’re going to kill me, Izuna.” Even in the dim light of the moon, Tobirama’s face was visibly flushed with arousal.

I hadn't planned on tagging this back right away, but you left me no choice.

[curseofhatred]

The single, fragile moment came and went, the softness replaced with the sharp points of a prickly attitude, a notice of supreme vindication. It buried itself quickly, as if it was never there to start with. Tobirama was flushed against him, his hands at his hips, resting, and Izuna was curious if they would tighten and hold him there if he dared to try to escape from his lap. Would he grip him or chase him?

How long should I even keep him in this damn jutsu? This isn't the point of it; it's the after that I need.

If that was the case, why hadn't he just started the genjutsu to a point after lovemaking? Why hadn't he simply made him think that they were sweaty and spent, happy and sated? Because Tobirama could see through that, he wanted to think, to believe, but that seemed weak at best. He was a master at this, at building these worlds; if he could keep the Senju through this, couldn't he make him think it had already happened?

Pride? Punishment? Humiliation, then? But he wiser than to risk an entire mission for something egocentric.

Those words...Izuna tilted back his head o hide the smile.

"It is my right to, don't you think?" He rocked up on his knees, before sliding back down, the friction of their cocks making it so hard to concentrate on all these different levels. Losing it, though, that wasn't an option; it could all shatter too quickly, could let the whole world come crumbling down, and he would have to follow through on those fateful words far sooner than he wanted to.

Arms moved, one resting on his shoulder (fighting the urge to curl around his throat, to show him, to prove it), the other going between them. Long fingers around round their arousals, but his hand wasn't quite large enough to fight around both so he worked as best he could when he started to stroke it up and down their companionable lengths. He leaned forward, his eyes a flicker of red amongst the black, before murmuring against his lips.

"And...only my right."

[tobirama]

Once this illusionary world dissipated, Tobirama was going to be asking himself the very same thing. Why Izuna felt the need to go through this whole ridiculous seduction scene when all he supposedly wanted from him was a little pillowtalk. Such things raised a lot of uncomfortable questions and they were questions whose answers he just wasn’t ready for yet.

How was he going to live with himself knowing Izuna had seen him at his most vulnerable? When he’d seen him reduced to a shaking and breathless mass of lust and need? Right now, he was exposed not just physically but also on an emotional level and there were no defenses to protect him from the Uchiha’s machinations.

But that was a problem to be dealt with later. He had more pressing concerns at the moment. Mainly the way the Uchiha was rocking his hips up against his and grinding their erections together in a way that stole every bit of brainpower from that formidable mind. Tobirama found himself rambling and saying something he’d normally never say under regular circumstances.

And of course, Izuna being the insane Uchiha that he was, he just took it and ran with it. Those lust-filled red eyes cleared slowly as the slender ninja in his lap suddenly started to talk about how it was only his right to kill him and it effectively cut through the need enough to clear his mind. Exasperation and disgust briefly shot across the Senju’s face and one callused hand moved to close around Izuna’s hand were it was wrapped around their lengths.

“Insane Uchiha, only you could speak of murder in the middle of—“ Of what exactly? Lovemaking? He hesitated to apply such a word to this, it felt too soft…too intimate. “—fucking.” Instead of trying to pry Izuna’s hand away, Tobirama just covered the area the other man’s hand could not, effectively completely the Izuna’s grip so that no part of their sensitive flesh would be bared to the cooling night air.

Tobirama didn’t flinch away from the swirl of crimson in Izuna’s gaze for once but instead met that sullen red gleam stubbornly. Was it perhaps arrogant folly on his part? Or perhaps a sign of trust the Senju was offering telling his so-called ‘lover’ that he trusted him not to put him under a genjutsu? It was a surprising show of trust from the Senju and all the more ironic considering he was already trapped inside that very illusion.

“You’re not going to kill me anymore than I’m going to kill you, Izuna. Stop screwing around.” He muttered so close to the Uchiha's mouth that each word had their lips brushing together softly.

[curseofhatred]

Was it really murder, their killing of one another? At what point did "murder" become "war", did it become some acceptable idea for the either of them? For society? It was such a harsh and chosen word that Tobirama used, and Izuna didn't think it belonged, not here.

Not like fucking, which felt chosen, a beautiful piece of language that fit with this situation. In Tobirama's memories, he wondered if they had ever done anything other than fuck; were their intimate sessions of lovemaking in the water? Quiet moments in fields under moonlight as they hissed out one another's names while carefully, slowly exploring one another's bodies? Or were they all quick, rapid flickers of shared seconds, hurried and barbed and rushed?

Lips parted as he started to argue, but it died on his tongue; the hand moved over around them, around what he couldn't reach, and dragged the breath from his lungs. The callouses were hard but the grip welcoming, and he shivered where he was on the other's lap. How ironic that they were using teamwork for once, and on this task of all things.

He flushed a little, under the touch, the gaze, the gaze meeting his own and breaking every Senju rule that was ever created. Why--why did he do that? Look? Stare? Meet his eyes and not flinch away? Why--Why would he--

"Idealistic fool," he murmured, and closed the distance again, kissing him, not letting it just be happenstance brushes but something intentional, deeper, promising. He started to move his hand, encouraging Tobirama's to follow suit, to move up, then down, starting up a rhythm that began slow but would build steam. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against the other man's, his breath hot pants over the feel of everything.

"Good," he murmured, shifting up just a little bit, enough to make his eyelashes (those damn long Uchiha eyelashes) flutter. "This...this feels..."

[tobirama]

When one was talking about killing their lover—even their enemy lover—then yes, Tobirama was going to chalk it up to murder. Of course, it happened on the field of battle and not with Izuna trying to choke the life out of him then maybe it would be something else. Because then…they wouldn’t be lovers but enemies once again.

Against his will, the hypnotized Senju found his thoughts traveling down a dark and unpleasant path momentarily. If the time came and he found himself crossing swords with Izuna with no other choice but to kill him, he knew he would do it. If his lover made him choose between the safety of his brother or his clan he would choose Hashirama and the Senju every time. But it did make him question just what kind of person he was that he could so heartlessly cut down the man he slept with on a regular basis.

Tobirama wasn’t very good with emotional attachments or dealing with emotions in general. He knew others viewed him as a cold, aloof sort of man and it was a reputation he’d fostered willingly over the years. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel just as much as the next person. And after months of willingly sneaking out to meet his enemy…to make love with him and share these intimate moments with…could he truly say he wasn’t even the slightest bit emotionally attached to the other ninja? In the quiet moments after they’d reached completion and before they’d had to retreat back to their separate encampments the two of them had talked quietly and found a surprising amount of common ground. Both of them were the younger brothers of insanely powerful ninja and both of them sought to protect their respective brother’s vulnerable backs.

Izuna understood the stress such a duty brought and even understood how much it hurt to lose every blood relative you had. Tobirama had never thought he’d find such common ground with an Uchiha but somehow he had with Izuna. Which might be part of the reason this strange affair of theirs continued on long after simple curiosity and lust should have been satiated. Even in the midst of the genjutsu, he couldn’t fool himself into thinking he loved the other man but a part of the albino ninja recognized that perhaps in a different time and a different place without the bad blood of their clan’s mutual hatred between them they might have been able to be something more. True lovers instead of fuckbuddies perhaps and he didn’t know how he felt about that particular revelation.

“Insane, Uchiha,” he muttered right back against Izuna’s mouth and when the dark-haired man leaned forward to complete the kiss he hungrily kissed him back. This was simpler…easier and less complicated. He’d figured out the ropes of kissing the Uchiha by now and did so eagerly.

For once, he didn’t fight Izuna and smoothly fell into the rhythm of pumping their gathered erections in perfect syncopation with the other man. When Izuna sped up, so too did Tobirama and he threw in a little twist at the end he enjoyed on himself where he swirled his thumb across the head of their cocks when they reached the upswing. The pad of his thumb gathered up the pre-cum that leaked from the glans and smeared it across their sensitive tips.

The pleasure coiling through him finally had Tobirama’s eyes drifting shut. Quiet sounds escaped the taller man and he bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to stifle them but those husky little groans still managed to crawl up his throat.

[curseofhatred]

Maybe it would have been better if they could have fallen in love, these fleeting moments that could stall blades, still blows, and give them something akin to normalcy, to dreams. How would their lives change if they weren't on opposing sides of a long, bloody war? How would it feel to smile, to kiss, to be simple and not worried when the next jutsu would show itself?

Little dreams, they were foolish little dreams that he wouldn't entertain. Love had no place on a battlefield, and the only thing that his heart could harbor for the Senju was hate. They had taken his brothers. He couldn't--couldn't--

"S--shhut up, Sssenju," he hissed and that mouth was against his own, tasting, kissing, devouring the moans that spilled forth from Izuna's throat at the feel of that hand at him, at them, working both in rhythm. The thumb surprised him, dragging forth another sound, some gaspwhimper that made his body tense, tighten. He wanted the albino to do it again, slipping that wetness over the both of their tips.

Izuna fought the urge to close his eyes, opening them slightly, watching the man across from him. Tobirama had apparently given in, and he found himself growling slightly. How dare he retreat into the darkness when Izuna was right here, right in front of him! Leaning in once more, he bit at the other's lower lip, hard enough to gain attention, his tongue quick to swipe after it after, soothing, soft.

"L-look at me, Tobirama," he hissed, breathing hard and face flushed. The hand still on the other's shoulder squeezed, holding on for dear life as he tightened his hand and worked faster. It felt so good, and the fact that Tobirama was the one doing it--

"I want...want to s-see you." Which wasn't true, not really; he wanted to be seen. He wanted Tobirama to see him, to notice him, to acknowledge him.

To maybe carry an image when there were only cruel memories and betrayals filling the empty spaces in the afterwards.

[tobirama]

No, there was no chance for love between them because they had the weight of their entire clans and their hungry blood feud resting on their shoulders. Even in this, Izuna could not convince Tobirama there was anything resembling a happy ending for them to look forward to. All they would be allowed were these few and fleeting moments stolen from their clans and responsibilities.

Eventually, he knew even this would have to come to an end. How many more times could they slink off undetected before someone got suspicious? Already, he suspected Touka knew something was amiss with him because he’d felt her dark eyes watching him silently all too often these days. He simply hoped she trusted him enough not to investigate any further but what happened if someone else decided to follow him and found him fraternizing with the enemy? Not just the enemy but Uchiha Izuna of all people; a man second only to Madara for the amount of Senju blood on his hands. It was tantamount to treason and he was aware of it yet still selfishly he continued to seek the other man out. Would Hashirama understand or would he have to look at his beloved big brother and see the same horrible judgement he fully expected to see reflected in the rest of his clan’s eyes if this came out? After all…Hashirama had garnered a friendship with Madara when they’d been younger but Tobirama knew there was no comparison between the two. An innocent friendship with an unknown shinobi child and sleeping with the enemy were two vastly different things.

And every time he said Izuna’s clan name or he heard that hissed ‘Senju’ on the other man’s tongue, he was reminded of that fact. Tobirama just growled and kissed the other man back all the more harder and aggressively with more teeth and tongue as though he could turn even that kiss into some kind of battle for dominance.

He groaned quietly at the slick sensation of his thumb sliding across the tips of their cocks. Logically, he’d known they were both leaking copious amounts of pre-cum by now but it was still surprisingly erotic to the touch all the same. And judging by Izuna’s reaction, he also enjoyed it so he made sure to repeat the gesture on the next upstroke. The albino ninja knew he was getting close because already his balls felt tight and aching but it was just sheer determination on his part not to allow the Uchiha the satisfaction of watching him come first that kept him from going off like the randy, over-wrought teenager he truly was.

That hissed command cut through the pleasure and had those red eyes slitting open ever so slightly. The pain of that bite when coupled with the soft flick of the man’s damp tongue very nearly undid him and Tobirama couldn’t quite stifle the open moan that escaped him.

“Bossy,” was all he could manage but the word was laced with a wealth of affection instead of accusation. He opened his eyes further and met the glimmer of those still active Sharingan eyes in the shadows. The hand that had been holding so tight onto the Uchiha’s hip moved upwards to bury itself once more in that dark curtain of loose black hair until he’d finally gotten a handful of it near close to the nape. He could have used it to yank the other man’s head back or a dozen different other martial applications but Tobirama didn’t seem inclined to attack or yank on those silky strands. “I’m right...here. Gods.”

[curseofhatred]

Oh, such beautiful little woven spiderwebs the other had told itself. If Izuna had known that he was so deep, that deep that he was thinking of being caught, of the eyes of his clan on him, of ending it in the eventuality, he would have felt a sense of pride and victory. Wasn't that the entire point? To lay the foundation and let the other spin themselves into the trap?

Of course it was. And yet, he wondered if this trick would work again, if on their next meeting, Tobirama would let him do this once more when the rage and betrayal and disgust should force his kunai on that alone. But what was wrong with this if nothing came of it? If it was just this, this little dream, this little moment when they didn't need to kill one another.

Happiness wasn't a word for this, but it was something akin to it.

But then again, Tobirama wasn't going to live through this, was he? After that information was his, it would be Izuna's duty, his right to kill him. He could live in this dream forever, just let this be the last thing he could give him, and end him while he was still embracing the Izuna inside, spent and smiling. What a merciful death, more than any that his brothers received, more than any Senju deserved. There would be no need for a next time.

Satisfaction was a temperamental thing, not always coming from the avenue logic deemed proper.

Tobirama wasn't the only one close; with the teasing and the newness of it all, with the touch and that damn feeling of that thumb against his cock, he wasn't sure how long he could hold on. Control was something he prided himself on, but he knew the albino had maybe even more than he did. Would this come down to a battle of pride? Of wills? Stamina?

Red eyes matched red, a sea of crimson, and he felt those fingers in his hair. His breath caught, waiting for a pull, but there was nothing, just the tangle there, and he trembled as he tightened his hand around their mutual cocks. Bossy? He would be bossy, he was in charge of everything, after all. But the confirmation that he was there, that validation, it made him--

"T-Tobi...rama," he hissed out, his eyes closing for a second, a heartbeat, before he forced them open again. "I...C-close..."

[tobirama]

The poor Senju had no idea just what sort of treachery Izuna was plotting or how the other man could ‘make love’ to him while silently planning on slitting his throat. If he’d known, it would have no doubt just further poisoned him against the Uchiha clan as a whole.

Despite the relatively cool night air, sweat had broken out across the taller ninja’s forehead and made those spiky strands of pure white cling in damp clumps against his skin. His breath came more rapidly and raggedly now as though he’d been exerting himself by running ten miles in full battle armor instead of sitting there in the relative comfort of that blanket mutually jerking off his off and on Uchiha lover. Of course, Tobirama didn’t know that all those fabricated memories he had of their previous times together were just that…fabrications created by his own mind and fed into the genjutsu Izuna had crafted.

So though he thought they had this long history in fact this was very much still his first time…and even that was debatable considering this was all just an illusion. Still, the fact they’d both managed to last as long as they had considering their relative inexperience was a testament to their will and stamina as shinobi no doubt. But Tobirama knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the sensation of Izuna’s strong fingers stroking around them and the slide of the other man’s cock against his own with each slick press of flesh.

Hearing his name sounding so broken and ragged on the other man’s tongue was one of the most erotic things he’d ever heard before. He’d never thought the sound of his own name coming from Izuna could sound so beautiful but it seemed to go straight to his cock. “Me too,” he admitted hoarsely. Tobirama moved the hand still tangled in Izuna’s hair up just a fraction so he could cup the back of the man’s neck and skull and used it as leverage as he leaned in to kiss the other man once more. There was little finesse to the kiss now and was more a frenetic mashing of lips and teeth.

[curseofhatred]

It wasn't just him. It wasn't just him that was close, wasn't just him that could feel the tightening, tensing in his body, wasn't just him that was panting softly. It wasn't just him that was going to finish. Was this too soon? He wasn't sure. How did people go for hours, like the rumors swirling through the camps, men laughing and clapping each other on the back as he talked up their previous night's exploits? This alone almost seemed too touch, and all they had done was touch one another.

The hand at his head slid up, and he knew what was going to happen before the other leaned in. He had enough time to hiss out a "Sssenju, n-no--" but then mouth was at his, kissing, biting, and he was giving it back just as much. Coherent thought was gone, replaced with animalist lust and tendencies, with the motivation of wanton desires born of places he didn't even know he had.

Nails, blunt and short, dug into the other man's shoulder, gripping as he kissed him. His other hand was quick, tight, and he could feel the precum slipping between their cocks as he deeply moaned into the other's mouth. He couldn't-- he couldn't finish yet. Tobirama hadn't. He couldn't. He couldn't let him win, not in his own fucking genjutsu, not here, not like thi--

And it struck, beyond his control, his body tensing against him as the climax slammed into him. The sound in his throat was almost guttural as he moaned, pressing into him, stock still as he came all over their mutual hands, with eyes screwed shut. He could feel the warmth over his fingers, but in that moment, he didn't care; all he could hear was his heartbeat slamming in his ears, his mind not even concentrating on what was happening (which explained a few flickers in the genjutsu itself, nothing more than blinks where things seemed almost disconnected). Everything in his mind was white in that moment.

He pulled his lips away, leaning back against the hand at his head, and sat there panting, little tremors in the aftermath slipping through him. That was...

"B-Bastard." Because he shouldn't have come first, dammit, and it was clearly Tobirama's fault.

[tobirama]

It was perhaps their own inexperience working against them. For two virgins who’d never truly known the touch of a lover their performance was adequate enough. True stamina and staying power only came with experience and knowledge after all. And it wasn’t as though either of them could go boasting about in the barracks about their particular escapades anyway.

All thoughts of not leaving any visible marks on his lover had fled Tobirama’s mind as the more primal side he often kept suppressed deep down under a heavy layer of ice cold logic awoke with a vengeance. He wanted to taste and experience every last piece of Izuna the closer he came to his own orgasm. The fact that the Uchiha matched him every borderline feral step for step only turned him on more. Because in this dreamworld at least, Tobirama could admit openly that he viewed the other man was an equal, a man who could match him in every way and that delighted him.

There was no way he could admit such a thing even in his most private most thoughts outside in the real world. To admit his enemy for his resilience and cleverness would be borderline treasonous but here it was…safe in a way.

The shudder that ran through the shorter man as he came was electrifying or perhaps it was simply the knowledge he’d been able to bring his lifelong rival to his proverbial knees in such a visceral way. Tobirama swallowed that guttural sounding moan but was thankfully too wrapped up in working the other through his orgasm to notice the flickers in the genjutsu. He could feel the other man’s seed trickling over their joined hands and was surprised to find he wasn’t overly disgusted by that realization. Or perhaps it was simply that Tobirama was so close to the precipice himself that he just couldn’t be bothered to focus on anything but his own pleasure now that he’d outlasted the Uchiha. He was polite enough to give the dark-haired man a moment to relish his own orgasm before squeezing Izuna’s fingers in a silent reminder he was still hard and aching to come himself.

He allowed himself the indulgence of a vaguely self-satisfied little smirk. “It’s hardly my fault. Though if you stop now, I might have to kill you on principle alone, Uchiha,” Tobirama said only halfway serious.

[curseofhatred]

That was—That had been—

It wasn’t real. None of this--

But that had been. That orgasm, that pleasure, that feeling of utter completion, of ecstasy a fashion he hadn’t known before, that had been real, utterly real. The pure, white-hot lust and the way it had nearly broken him down, shattered all of this around them, that had been real. Which left him wondering where the line blurred, how close the two worlds merged.

Enemy. He’s my damn enemy and I’m going to kill him when this is finished, when I have my information.

“It’s a tempting offer,” he murmured, lifting is head a little to look at him, his fingers tightening for a moment before he realized how sensitive how own cock was at this point; he practically saw stars and the whimper that slipped free was humiliating. N-No. That wasn’t an option.

“Le-Let go.” Not that he waited, instead shaking off the other’s hand for a second so he could move his spent length away and focus on the remaining one. His hand wrapped around it, alone this time, working it quick, fast, sure, from base to tip. His own come made the motions slick, smooth, wet. In that moment, he felt in control.

Flushed, drunk on satisfaction, he smirked a little at the other man, the tip of his tongue sweeping his own lips. “I want to watch you finish,” he whispered. I want to own you in the moment. I want to remember it always. I want-- “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t look away, or I’ll stop. Understand?”

[tobirama]

The albino ninja radiated a sense of satisfaction because it was empowering to know you could help bring that much pleasure to your lover. Because as far as he was aware, that was exactly what they were and that all of this was nothing but a cooked up lie created in the mind of the devious Uchiha warrior.

Izuna had been—beautiful.

There was no other word for it, he’d been beautiful as he lost himself in the pleasure of his orgasm and the sight had been so enrapturing even a man as normally observant as Senju Tobirama was captured by it to the point where he hadn’t noticed just how thin and fragile the boundary of the genjutsu had gotten between illusion and reality.

To his credit, he immediately let go when he heard that distressed little whimper from Izuna but he was ill prepared for the direct and firm way Izuna took him in hand. Tobirama was silently grateful for the additional lubrication of the other man’s come because otherwise he might have chaffed him raw with the intensity of his grip. As it stood, it was borderline painful but it just served to add a little extra spice to the volatile mix.

Still, he wasn’t the type to blindly accept orders from an Uchiha and the arrogant statement had the Senju’s eyes narrowing in irritation and the hand still buried in the other man’s hair tightening ever so slightly. Only the threat of Izuna stopping kept him from biting the man’s head off because as much as his attitude chaffed him, Tobirama wanted his own orgasm more.

“I don’t take orders from you, Uchiha.” He growled all the same, but it did achieve Izuna’s goal of thoroughly centering in those red eyes on him with all the intensity of a hawk. Tobirama wasn’t looking away anytime soon mainly because he seemed as though he were torn between glaring or finally losing himself to the pleasure. Tendons stood out in sharp relief against his neck and that still come smeared hand rose and drawn by the darting motion of the other man’s tongue he painted Izuna’s damp lower lip with the remnants of his own essence.

It was a subtle reminder on his part that Izuna had been the one who came first and Tobirama had been the instrument that played a part in his undoing. The Uchiha might think he had control of the situation just because he was swiftly bringing the other man off but the Senju wasn’t going to surrender control just yet. Even in this, it still remained a battle and a test of wills just on a different playing field.

[curseofhatred]

Izuna blinked.

Had that hand-- had Tobirama had the nerve to--Was that his own seed on his lips? Had that man--Had that Senju--

His hand slowed, stopped for a second as he let it resonate through him what he had just done, what he had said by doing it. Izuna could read between the lines, knew what he was speaking with gestures, with motions, with that brazen little trick, and he found himself both stunned and strangely aroused by it.

Izuna's cheeks were as red as his eyes.

"I hate you," he hissed, but he didn't mean it, didn't even sound close to meaning it. How could he when the next thing he was doing was leaning forward, pressing his lips to the other man's, giving him back the gift he gave him and reminding him that he was just as guilty over this as Izuna was? Share the wealth. He wanted him to taste it, wanted him to feel it, wanted him to know as he kissed him. This wasn't just his own anymore. Their mutual precome was probably mixed into it, too. This was theirs, together.

He pulled back as his stroking started up again, quick, his other hand slipping between them to cradle Tobirama's testicles and rolling them gently in his palm. Izuna wasn't going to miss the sight and kept his eyes trained on the other's face. He refused to waver, even if he did want to kiss him, mark him, bite him, remind him when this was over. The urges were numerous, threatening to tear him apart, and the greed whispered at him, demanding he took.

"Next time," he hissed, low, under his breath, eyes glittering, "I am going to fuck you into the earth."

There couldn't be a next time, though, not after this. But what a sweet lie to tell.

[tobirama]

If asked up until that very moment if he’d ever thought he’d get off on doing something so primal and uncivilized as marking his own lover with his own come, Tobirama would have denied it. But there was something strangely…satisfying in the action.

Or maybe Izuna’s reaction was what made it so satisfying. He watched smugly as realization settled in on the Uchiha’s face and the look of dawning outrage and disbelief on in the other man’s expression almost made the fact he stopped moving his hand worth it.

He laughed openly at that hissed proclamation of supposed hatred but wasn’t overly surprised when the dark-haired man lunged forward to press his mouth to his. The taller ninja didn’t recoil backwards from the bitter taste lingering on Izuna’s lips but instead kissed him back in silent answer to his unstated challenge. His tongue licked the taste from the Uchiha’s mouth and willingly accepted it and the traces of their shared precome eagerly only to trade it back to the Uchiha in kind.

Tobirama’s hand fisted harder in Izuna’s hair when the other man boldly reached down to start toying with his balls as well. He desperately wanted to keep going and drag this delicious torture out even further but the way the dark-haired man stroked his thumb perilously close to the sensitive skin of his perineum combined with the way his hand was stroking him finally proved too much.

The Senju would deny it was that husky promise to fuck him into the earth that finally set him off but with a low, almost pained sounding groan he finally surrendered himself to the orgasm which rocked through him with all the power of a lightning jutsu. It felt like ever nerve ending in his body was thrumming and vibrating with an almost painful intensity as he spilled himself all over Izuna’s stroking hand. Reflexively, the grip in the Uchiha’s hair turned almost painfully tight as he scrambled for something to hold onto before he finally found purchase on the man’s shoulder.

Despite the Uchiha’s orders, Tobirama found his eyes drifting closed as he rode out his orgasm.

[curseofhatred]

Oh, that laughter. That mocking little tone. Izuna was glad to shut him up with his kiss, was glad to win some ground by grabbing his balls. And he was winning, even if he followed along, because he would have the last laugh. He would have the last little victory. It was only his to possess.

(That satisfaction wasn't nearly as fulfilling as what it had been when the other had gotten him off, however. What a bitter and annoying realization, but something that couldn't be changed or helped. This was fate.)

The sound from Tobirama's throat made him smile, and he knew he was coming, he knew. A little gasp slid out from between Izuna's lips as the hand gripped his hair harder, and he tipped his head back a little until he felt the grip on his shoulder. He didn't mind the hold; he would be the rock in a sea of sensations, of feelings, of new experiences. He would be the thing Tobirama could clutch when nothing else seemed enough.

He looked amazing, though. Stunning. Giving in with his precious control shaken in the moment. Finally experiencing something other than disdain, disgust, violence. Reacting to Izuna. How much he loved it. Izuna could feel the warm splash of fluid on his hand and he ached to spread it across his face, to slip his fingers into that mouth.

Did I look the same way when I finished?

But then Tobirama had to close his eyes, didn't he? Ruin this perfect moment. "Senju!" he growled, fingers squeezing his balls a little tighter, wanting his attention, not caring if it hurt because he wanted this. Needed this. "See me, dammit! Or you won't again."

Which was almost amusing considering what awaited them after.

[tobirama]

Under normal circumstances, he never would have touched Izuna in such a way and he certainly would not have clung desperately to the other man when he was at his most open and vulnerable But Izuna had tricked him and pulled the wool so thoroughly over Tobirama’s eyes that he’d unknowingly let the Uchiha under his guard.

The Senju was floating on his endorphin high only to find it rudely interrupted by the way the other man suddenly squeezed his balls. He was abruptly reminded of the fact he’d allowed a mortal enemy to get such an intimate grip on one of the most vulnerable and sensitive parts of his body. Murderous eyes snapped open hot and angry at the painful grip the Uchiha had on his balls. But only the knowledge that Izuna could crush them or his still semi-hard dick if he so chose to kept the albino ninja from lashing out at him.

“You bastard,” Tobirama accused him hotly and moved to bat his hands away from his vulnerable parts defensively. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Oh yes, someone was definitely cranky to find his post-orgasmic bliss ruined by the obviously unbalanced Uchiha’s sudden turn for crazy.

He didn’t understand Izuna’s strange obsession with sudden eye contact unfortunately. Before, it had been just a way of challenging the other man in the midst of their love play but now that Izuna seemed to crave that attention, the contrary Senju seemed reluctant to give it to him.

[curseofhatred]

There were a lot of things wrong with him, none of which could be explained, known, or shared. The only answer he had were ones he couldn't give: I want to be the last thing you think of before I have to kill you. I want this one good memory to follow you down.

"Nevermind. It doesn't matter."

Instead, he let the other man huff and puff and knock his hands away, wiping them clean on the nearby grass (though the temptation had been to wipe them on the other's back out of spite), and crawled off of him. It was done. Over with. Now it was time for business and the real reason he came here. Stretching out on the bedroll, he let the moonlight play over his skin as he stretched, a little pop in his back as it settled comfortably. A small smile curved at his lips, the demands forgotten.

"Lay with me," he muttered. "I'm cold."

And that was hardly unusual. Regardless of his affinity of fire, his toes and hands found themselves uncharacteristically cool. Fingers (still warned from vigorous stroking) reached out for him, drawing little fans against Tobirama's knee as he looked up at him. Coy? Maybe, but far more calm than anything else.

How long had this genjutsu been going on? How long did he have left? How long would it take to lure the truth from his lips before others came to them, either his own men or the Senju. This... this had been far too long as it was, and he knew it. Time was running short.

[tobirama]

Tobirama would have been content to simply chalk it up to Izuna being an Uchiha and therefore he had a genetic propensity for madness and violence. Thankfully, the other man released his genitals without protest so he saw no reason to sour the mood further by continuing the chastise him.

The Senju made no move to stop him as Izuna crawled out of his lap and the hand that had been fisted in the man’s hair loosened so those now slightly tangled strands smoothly escaped the grip of his fingers. He hadn’t been expecting the borderline plaintive request for him to lay down with him and it shown on his face in that mildly surprised and mystified look in his face. Tobirama wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed casual touch nor was he exactly the most ‘cuddly’ of people so the idea of post-coital snuggles even with a lover didn’t sound exactly appealing.

Not to mention his logic-driven mind immediately wanted to point out that if Izuna was cold then he should pull his clothes back on. But thankfully, he had a good enough internal filter that he kept those rather pointed observations to himself. Really, what was the harm in indulging him for a few minutes anyway? Besides, Tobirama was feeling satiated enough from his own orgasm that just laying back and being lazy for a few minutes sounded downright blissful.

“Bossy and needy, honestly, Uchiha. Why do I put up with you?” He asked with feigned exasperation before he moved to stretch out that long, pale body next to Izuna’s on the blanket. The albino ninja leaned in close and reached over to hook the far edge of the bedroll so he could pull it over his and Izuna’s body in an attempt to provide the other with some cover.

It was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture when you considered the person who had made it. And perhaps even more surprising was now that Izuna was getting up close and personal with his Senju enemy so to speak, he’d discover Tobirama was surprisingly warm. Considering his own elemental affinity and the icy persona he radiated, not to mention his curiously pale and wintry coloring, it was easy to assume the Senju would be the chilly type but in fact, those pale limbs were rather warm as the folded them around Izuna and drew him back into his torso. Spooning wasn’t really something you’d associate with Senju Tobirama either yet here he was defying expectations yet again.

[curseofhatred]

Why. Why was the important question, one he didn't understand. Sure, he planted the suggestion, he made up this elaborate world, this beautiful dream, but how did Tobirama convince himself it was real? What was their first meeting like? How did they overcome the hate in his mind? Who had taken the steps to their first kiss?

How many blanks had he filled in to flesh out the story?

"Your life is boring without me." And probably calmer. Safer. Less dangerous and deadly but he didn't say that. Now was important, now was when the words had be chosen carefully because he couldn't just ask. He couldn't--

Was...was he putting the blanket around them? Or better, was Tobirama curling around him, his arms there, his chest strong against Izuna's back? His eyes grew wide, open, staring into the far distance; sure, he had said it but he hadn't thought the other would actually do it. He had expected him to yell at him to get dressed if he was cold, or tell him to build a fire, but this wasn't--

real

--wasn't possible. And how warm he was, like a surprising little furnace with an icy outer shell. How could someone be so warm? Was it from what they had done or did he always run that hot? Izuna stuck his cold toes against the other's legs, his eyes closing as he found himself smiling softly.

He wondered if his hair was in the way, and if it smelled of bloodsweatdeath or if it was sandalwood. Fingertips slipped along the other's arm, the back of Tobirama's hand as he closed his eyes.

"Tomorrow comes too soon," he murmured. "It might be some time until you see me again; I heard we're moving north at dawn." Which wasn't true, of course, but he didn't need to say as much; right now, he was curious if the other was going to give up any information at all, even a direction so he could start to guess what clans they were going to see.

[tobirama]

Truthfully the last thing Izuna wanted was for Tobirama to be examining those questions too closely because then this web of lies he’d weaved might begin to disintegrate.

“And probably a lot easier all things considered. Less peril and people trying to kill me at the very least,” the taller ninja pointed out blandly as he finished stretching out next to Izuna and situating the blanket over them. He couldn’t really explain why he’d catered to the Uchiha’s rather imperious orders himself save to say he at least had the excuse of thinking they were lovers and that was the sort of thing you did for your lover right?

Not that Tobirama had a whole lot of experience with such things but he did have ears and paid attention while the men gossiped about such things. And now that he was curled up around the smaller man and had drawn him back flush against him, he had to admit there was perhaps something to the whole thing.

He nuzzled into those long, ticklish strands of black hair, his own shorter and spikey strands of pale white mingling with the midnight dark of Izuna’s hair. The contrast was visually startling as was the way his fingers looked as they stroked through some of the hair that had fallen across the Uchiha’s shoulder.

Hearing that comment, Tobirama hummed quietly noncommittal and was silent for a long moment before speaking. “We’ll have to make do with this until the next time then. Hopefully we won’t have to face one another across the battle field anytime soon.”

Vexingly, he offered up no real information of his own but was that surprising for a man like Tobirama who never wasted words when he didn’t have to?

[curseofhatred]

"You are a ninja, Tobirama," he quietly countered back. "Do you know anything other than people trying to kill you?"

And that... was an almost curious statement. Hobbies. Did the man have hobbies? Did he like to do anything other than make ridiculous jutsus and kill Izuna's brethren? If he wasn't --

No. No. This was stupid. Why did he care? He didn't. He would be dead soon anyway, all of this could go back to being a mission that was forgotten, and his brother would praise him for his work. Madara would be so proud (though the exact details and methods he used would be muddled, a secret; how he would react to knowing that Izuna seduced him would force this to remain untold). That was what was important.

But he could feel Tobirama nuzzling, could feel the fingers against his shoulders, and he was surprised by how good the experience was. How calming it was. How it made his heart feel. It had to be because it was his first time of ever knowing such affection; he was sure of it. It wasn't because it was Tobirama.

Stupid Senju.

"Mmm, but you won't kill me," he murmured, pressing back against him a little more. Wound, sure. But kill? He doubted it, not in this pretend little venture. Outside, Izuna had the upper hand, would finish it before it could start.

Of course the bastard wouldn't give up anything. Of course. And he couldn't come right out and ask him what he was doing.

"The clans talk, defectors, rumors. There's something going around that you're going to be transporting something important soon." His hand reached behind him, gently trailing along the other man's hip. "I can try to keep my people away from you, but I might have to go to ensure you don't wind up on the end of someone's kunai, little Senju. Which way will you be coming from so I can volunteer?"

[tobirama]

Did he know anything but how to be a ninja? Tobirama was ashamed to admit he didn't think he did. Even his hobbies such as creating new jutsu or even his love of reading and learning all eventually lead back to how to improve himself as a warrior.

Senju Tobirama had dedicated his life to being a ninja but something about Izuna’s off-handed comment didn’t sit well with him at all. For the first time, he questioned if he was supposed to want more. Was this...thing between them a manifestation of that unrealized desire to have more than just war in his life? Could that explain his inexplicable attraction to a man who he should have by all rights hated? But no, that seemed too easy…too much of a cop out to attribute his attraction to his enemy as something so childish.

“I don’t have time for anything else.” He finally said softly and stroked the backs of his nails along the long and lean line of Izuna’s arm. “Maybe one day if our brother’s mad ideals for peace actually come to pass I can learn something else but for now, being a ninja is all I can afford to be.” If there was a sense of longing for more in the albino’s voice, he wasn’t willing to examine it overly much just yet.

Izuna’s rather arrogant statement dragged a quiet little huff from the taller man that might have almost been a sound of amusement or perhaps exasperation. “Don’t be so sure of that. You can I both know that if you made me choose between your life and the life of my brother Hashirama would win out every time. Just as you’d kill me to protect Madara,” Tobirama leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of the Uchiha’s shoulder as though in silent apology for the words but it didn’t make them any less true. Their family would always come first, it was part of what made them so uniquely suited for one another and part of the reason they’d started this outrageous affair in the first place. Because who else could understand what they went through day in and day out on the battlefield?

Suspicion however flared brightly in Tobirama’s brain however when the other man pressed him for further information. That was one of their unspoken rules…that they wouldn’t ask the other for any kind of intel when they were together like this in their few stolen hours.

“What’s gotten into you, Izuna? You know I can’t tell you that. It’s against the rules.” A frown began to tug at his brow and knit those silvery pale brows together.

[curseofhatred]

The touches made his skin feel...electric, his body electric. Warm. His arm was sensitive, the motions kind, and he closed his eyes as he relished in the barest, most insignificant of things. He liked it. He liked being touched and he hated himself for how amazed he was by the smallest of affections.

The fact that it was coming from Tobirama of all people, was no less a miracle.

But the idea of peace, of nothing to fight for, of embracing hobbies and a quiet life... it seemed almost beyond the scope of thought, of reality. Sure, he had interests of his own now, little ones he didn't talk about to anyone, but they were put to the wayside in order to focus on the war. His own personal enjoyment came secondary to the mission at hand. That was the way the shinobi worked.

Lips were warm against his shoulder and he closed his eyes as he smiled. There was nothing to apologize over; the truth was the truth. He would wreck the world for his brother, tear it all apart, and he assumed nothing less from Tobirama. It was fitting, wasn't it?

"Wrong word then. 'Can't' kill me." He laughed a little, teasing, clearly meaning not capable over emotionally unable to. A light jab, nothing serious, but the laughter slowly fell away.

Tobirama was suspicious. Dammit, he pressed too hard, knowing his time was short. He was better than this!

Carefully, he rolled over so he could face the other man, his eyes looking up at him as if he was bothered by something. "Sorry, I just...have a lot on my mind," he muttered, sad, almost dejected in the moment. Uchiha could be amazing liars if they needed to be. "I wasn't thinking. Forget it." And he leaned up to kiss him.

[tobirama]

The albino ninja was not a tactile person by nature but he’d found he enjoyed touching Izuna. His skin was a curious mixture of softness and rough and the textural differences fascinated him. Absently, Tobirama stroked his thumb along a crescent shaped scar on the Uchiha’s bicep and tried to recall if it was a mark he’d given him or some other unknown enemy.

They’d spent so much of their lives trying to kill each other yet here they found themselves cuddling under a purloined blanket with the Senju symbol stitched into the top hem. He didn’t know how they’d ended up here but how ironic was it that that….that was just his mind starting to poke and prod at the gaps in the genjutsu and point out the obvious flaws in this little dream world of theirs.

Tobirama kept his lips pressed against the sharp jut of Izuna’s shoulder. “Can but I would prefer not to if I can manage it.” He murmured the words against that warm skin and peppered a line of affectionate kisses along the crest of the other man’s shoulder until he reached the long, graceful column of the Uchiha’s neck. “Any more than you want to kill me.” It should have sounded like a boastful statement but there was so much somberness in the other man’s voice that it stole any levity from the jesting comment.

Somewhat reluctantly, Tobirama released Izuna enough that the shorter man could twist around in his arms until he was facing him and he rearranged his arms around him so that they were looped loosely against his waist. Those far too suspicious red eyes met his gaze for a moment and it seemed almost as though he could peer through every lie or illusion the Uchiha threw at him.

“No shared information. It’s the only way this will work between us.” It was the only way they could trust that the other wasn’t trying to use them as an easy mark of a source of intel to be exploited. Tobirama’s mouth was firm and unyielding against his own for a long moment before they softened ever so slightly to press back gently.

[curseofhatred]

That mark? That mark was from another enemy, another Senju warrior, a shuriken that had hit true. Of all the scars Izuna had, it was the one he liked the least, a reminder of how some nameless fool had gotten the better of him for a single moment, how they had etched their legacy into his flesh when he had nothing else to go on. This mark would be carried forever...and it wasn't even worth it.

Izuna had killed him a second later, angry, growling.

The fact that Tobirama touched it made him frown. Why couldn't he touch one of his own marks? The line across his back? The one at his hip?

But there were those lips, speaking against his skin, and Izuna thought that this, that these illusionary moments with the lips against his skin, were more intimate than anything he had with anyone else. Soft and alluring and quiet, he appreciated the subtlety of the movement on someone who in no way should be doing it. It felt so out of place against the morose topic of conversation.

But I want to kill you. I have to kill you. That is what war is: death.

"Mm." But now they were facing one another, and Izuna was staring up into red eyes as those hands settled around him. They looked through him, and Izuna hated it, hated how much they knew when it should be nothing, nothing at all.

At least he relaxed into the kiss a little. There was that.

"I know," he hissed, rolling his eyes as if it was a well-worn path they had traveled before. "I'm just tired and it slipped out before I could stop myself." Fingers trailed up the other's back, wondering how he could smooth over the situation. How much time did he have any more? It couldn't be much.

"Are we going to fight about this when we have so little time between us?"

[tobirama]

It was so easy to lose oneself in the illusion. This false sense of intimacy, the surprisingly quiet affection the Senju was showing him. Tobirama didn’t come across like the kind of man who would be content to lay there and feather soft kisses across his lover’s skin.

Their macabre topic of conversation just stood out all the stranger for it.

But then, they were two sworn enemies who found themselves drawn into this strange affair. By all rights, they should have hated one another’s guts and for the longest time, Tobirama had thought that was it. Just as Hashirama had found his match in Madara so too had he found his match in the younger Uchiha brother. Yet here they were cuddled up together naked and satiated together and he found he couldn’t even work up the guilt to be ashamed. This was pure selfishness and normally he was a man driven by a sense of devotion to his family and clan.

Here he was though with perhaps his greatest enemy in his arms trading languid kisses and caresses instead of blows on the battlefield. Would Izuna be able to feel the way the illusion started to stretch taut and thin as Tobirama’s far too keen mind started to resist the genjutsu?

Thankfully, the Uchiha was good at distractions and Tobirama’s suspicions seemed to die out by the time the kiss ended. He met Izuna’s petulant stare with a bland look of his own but something in thode red eyes softened even further at the comment about their time together being so limited. Regret shown in the Senju’s eyes and was reflected in the faint air of sadness which descended between them.

“No, I don’t want to fight. Our time together is too precious for that.” One of his hands shifted so he could reach up and stroke his fingers through the Uchiha’s long hair softly. He skimmed the backs of his knuckles down the length of his lover’s spine in doing so. For a man who claimed to not enjoy tactile contact, he sure couldn’t seem to get enough of touching Izuna! “I don’t want to end things between us on a sour note.”

Soon enough they would be back out on the battlefield facing death down every time they picked up their blades. There was a good chance they might even have to cross swords or face the reality that they might have to watch as the other one died at the hands of one of their clansmen or allies. This time was precious and Tobirama didn’t want to lose a second of it before they had to leave this dream-world they’d created together and return back to reality.

The fact that even this so-called dream world of theirs was nothing but a lie anyway was going to be a crushing realization once he realized how much he’d been tricked.

[curseofhatred]

An urge struck, strange and foreign, and he wanted to kiss him for his own reasons. He wanted a repeat of what they did a few moments earlier, only slower, longer, less antagonistic goading and just something quiet. He wanted…more of this.

Was it the Senju’s value of their time? The look in his eyes, the feel of those knuckles against his back? He wasn’t sure, but in that moment, he wanted more, he wanted to do it again, he wanted to kiss him, to touch him, and mean it.

And then he realized how sick and wrong he was. How he shouldn’t want any of this, how it was stupid and foolish and toxic. His brother would never forgive him. He was blushing before he could stop it, but it hardly mattered; it could be masked as a reaction to the kind words the other said. It was believable, he knew it.

“Don’t worry, Senju; we won’t.”

It was such a shame how this would end…but Izuna didn’t want to think about it now, not as he leaned into him, as he kissed him, as he slid his leg between the other’s and gently pushed against him. Lulling him. He was just lulling him, that was it, and then he would ask again. He would find a way, would get into it, and if he couldn’t do it pleasantly, then he would kill him inside this dreamworld.

Maybe that’s what he had to do, have his lover betray him here, stab him, hurt him. Maybe breaking his heart would make him talk. Though, he sincerely doubted it with someone like Tobirama.

[tobirama]

He wasn’t expecting the suddenly slow and lingering kiss but Tobirama certainly wasn’t going to complain about it! A shuddery little sigh escaped him and was captured by Izuna’s mouth as they exchanged a series of tender and languid kisses. It was the kind of kiss that left a warm fluttery sensation in the pit of your stomach and had toes curling. Not the sort of kiss he expected to share with his mortal enemy but compared to the downright combative kisses they’d been exchanging before this was downright…sweet.

The moon was high enough now that it illuminated them adequately enough to make out the subtle redness to their cheeks and it cast an eerie light to the Senju’s colorless hair. Callused fingertips stroked and feathered across the Uchiha’s shoulder as the kiss dragged on pleasantly.

He’d been so wrapped up in Izuna that Tobirama hadn’t even noticed the approaching chakra signatures. But even as distracted as he was by his lover, he’d recognize Hashirama’s familiar warm chakra anywhere. That pale head jerked up suddenly as red eyes went wide with a combination of surprise and dismay.

“Someone is coming. Shit, Hashirama—“ Tobirama started to warn his ‘lover’ but then there was the firm and sharp ’kai’ and the genjutsu melted away abruptly.

For Hashirama the sight of his beloved brother just standing there stock still with his sword laying there limp at his feet from where slack fingers had released the hilt had been a chilling and horrible one. Only the fact that Izuna had been just as enraptured in maintaining the genjutsu had no doubt kept the Uchiha from doing something untoward towards his brother.

When the breathless and near hysterical Katsuo had come crashing into their scouting party, it had taken the younger Senju nearly a minute to regain his breath enough to inform his clan head of the dangerous situation he’d been forced to leave Tobirama in. In truth, Hashirama had been secretly terrified he’d come racing in to discover his sole living blood relative cold and dead much like he’d found Itama all those years.

Instead he’d found an equally bone-chilling tableau but all it took was one look at the spinning crimson wheel of that active Sharingan to realize what Izuna had been up to. The brunette ninja had made the hand seals and barked that order to release the illusion.

For Tobirama it was like having a bucket of ice cold water dumped over his head. The shock and confusion of trying to figure out what was reality and what was not was jarring to the senses and to the mind. Red eyes stared dully across the distance at Izuna for a moment before life and coherence returned and suddenly, everything became horrifically clear to him.

[curseofhatred]

It had been good. It had been perfect; Tobirama was falling into it, and their kisses were soft and impossibly sweet. For one blissful moment, even he had forgotten his place, slightly shifting under the fingertips that teased him; the genjutsu felt too real and he was so damn deep to keep it going. Killing him could come later, so much later, and--

But then Tobirama was moving, and his own red eyes stared confusedly up at the other man. Coming? Someone was--

Shit!

It happened so fast, so quick that he barely had time to comprehend what occurred, what order. Tobirama had been warm and naked beside him, kissing him, touching him, but then that damn kai was ringing in his head as he was suddenly staring into the red eyes of the younger Senju. A fully clothed, very confused Senju.

There was a second where Izuna couldn't move, as if he was the trapped in the jutsu now, his lips parted, his eyes red as blood. Inside his pants, he was painfully hard, but there was something else, something he didn't--couldn't--

"Go!" he hissed, but he didn't know if he was talking to himself or the man across from him; everything was confusing, strange, pieces of a puzzle whose picture was unfamiliar. He stepped back, standing on the river water, no bedroll in sight, the daylight blinding. He pulled out his sword, but he knew he couldn't win, not against the both of them. Hashirama could hold his own again Madara, and even Izuna couldn't do that. Tobirama was difficult enough.

Reaching into his sleeve, he felt a smoke bomb fall into his hand. He needed to get out of here, now.

[tobirama]

Tobirama’s mind was having trouble switching from those lazy and sweet kisses under the soft moonlight to the harshness of reality. Hidden beneath the plates of his armor, he was achingly hard inside his pants thanks to the side-effect of the genjutsu. Thankfully, the armor hid his own erection but it couldn’t save his wounded pride when the realization sank in of just how effectively the Uchiha had fooled him.

Confusion followed by something that might have even been a sort of hurt expression swiftly chased its way across his face before those pale features set into a more expected parade of outrage and anger.

“You son of a bitch!” Tobirama snarled with more anger than Izuna had probably ever seen on that normally cold and composed face. He wasn’t the type of man who lost his head in a fight and preferred to keep cool and collected. But realizing your mortal enemy had just tricked you into some twisted and perverse lovefest was enough to rile even his temper.

Even as Izuna threw that smoke bomb, Tobirama was reaching for his weapons pouch since it was closer than his sword and he threw a handful of those razor sharp throwing blades into the smoke Izuna disappeared into. The Uchiha would be able to see him gathering his chakra in an attempt to track his movements over the water.

If the Uchiha had even a lick of sense he’d get off over the river and as far away from the water as he could because the Senju was drawing upon enough chakra to create one of those deadly water dragon techniques of his. Izuna had assumed he would be the one attempting murder after the genjutsu faded but apparently Tobirama wanted him just as dead and really…could you blame him?

“He’s headed across the river!” The albino ninja snapped at his brother and Hashirama started to mold his chakra as well though unlike his brother, he wasn’t particularly keen on hurting the Uchiha now that he knew his brother was okay. He and Madara had an almost unstated rule between them. Unlike their fathers, they didn’t attempt to take out their respective brothers. They’d both shed enough blood and sacrificed enough kin for this continued and extended war between their clans without sacrificing their sole remaining relatives in the name of this centuries long conflict.

[curseofhatred]

Water. Water. He needed to get off the water. Dodging the blades was easy with the sharingan, and he was running, jumping off that damn river that would get him killed. Why did he put him into a genjutsu there of all places? Why hadn't he thought this out? Why was he too cocky?

One jumps, two, and he was off the water, landing on the ground. The smoke was thinner here, and he could see Hashirama, clear, sharp, and Izuna watched him the molding chakra. If he was caught here, he was done; his brother would find his body days later, half-eaten by wild animals. Tobirama would probably torture him for all that he had done. It would end poorly.

Throwing three kunai with exploding tags attached, he ran, launching himself into the deepest part of trees, hoping to hide in the shadows as best he could while moving. The undergrowth was deep and the birds had long since gone, so there was nothing to disturb him as he vaulted. Move. Go. Behind him, he could hear the tags explode, but he hadn't been precise so he doubted that he hit anyone.

Today had been a failure. He got nothing out of Tobirama, no information, hadn't killed him, but... it didn't feel like a loss. It didn't feel even close to a loss. And why? Why was that? What was going on!?

Inside his pants, his cock made it hard to run, and he flushed deeply as he jumped from branch to branch quickly. He would be home soon, and somehow, somehow, he would have to explain what happened today. Perhaps, he could leave out the details of the genjutsu; something told him that the Senju wouldn't be telling his brother either.