tobirama: (Unfriendly)
[personal profile] tobirama posting in [community profile] el_musebox
Characters: Izuna [personal profile] curseofhatred & Tobirama [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-02 04:04 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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..."
Edited Date: 2015-09-02 04:10 am (UTC)

Date: 2015-09-03 05:01 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-05 02:49 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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?”

Date: 2015-09-05 05:07 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-05 06:08 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-05 08:04 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-06 06:47 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-07 04:02 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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?"

Date: 2015-09-09 04:17 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-12 05:50 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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?"

Date: 2015-09-14 01:43 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2015-09-15 03:24 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.
Edited Date: 2015-09-15 03:27 am (UTC)

Date: 2015-09-15 04:44 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] 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.

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