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.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-08-23 04:17 pm (UTC)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.