He was not as arrogant or foolish as to think just because Izuna hadn’t choked the life out of him didn’t mean the unbalanced Uchiha wouldn’t strike out with deadly force if pushed too far.
So as much as Tobirama wanted to reach out for his former lover and pull that eerie husk given false life close, he kept his hands to himself once they’d reached an uneasy stalemate kneeling there on the rough hewn rock floor. The unevenness of it dug painfully into his knees and aggravated the right knee especially which every year seemed to grow stiffer and cantankerous.
But compared to the pain in his throat, such minimal discomforts were trivial at best. The albino ninja was worried Izuna might have done some lasting damage but it would have to remain to be seen. He wasn’t going to risk anyone else coming into his hidden lab because even in this, Tobirama’s deep set need for paranoid secrecy ran deep. That…and deep down he knew if the truth came out about what he’d been doing down here. If Hashirama discovered what sort of dark and amoral things he’d been doing that his brother would shut him down.
Worse yet, he would look at him with such disappointment in his eyes and that was more than he thought he could bear. It didn’t matter that the lives sacrificed had been enemies of Konoha. For a man like Hashirama, such things were unconscionable. Tobirama had always been the more ruthless of the two…the one willing to dirty his hands in shadowy business and dirty dealings to accomplish the mission.
Those shadow filled red eyes finally rose to look up at Izuna when he sensed the other man reaching to touch his hair only to stop halfway. The Senju wanted nothing more than to lean his head up into that outstretched hand like an affectionate cat like he’d done countless times over the scant few years they’d had together. Just as Tobirama had been fascinated by the long and sleek blackness of the Uchiha’s hair so too had his colorless hair intrigued the other man and Izuna had taken especial pleasure in stroking or petting it.
But now, he couldn’t trust the Uchiha not to curl his fingers in it only to try and rip it from the turf of his scalp. Or perhaps Tobirama simply didn’t think such presumptions would be appreciated. They were standing on the razor-sharp edge of a precipice where even the slightest unbalancing of power could send them screaming over the edge into destructive madness.
“If that’s what you want.” He said softly, tone colorless and forcibly bland. Tobirama had always had a hell of a poker face and he'd gotten better at masking his feelings in the past few years but no matter how good his control, those damned eyes gave him away. They looked at Izuna with all the miserable hunger of a starving child eager to reach out and take what sweet morsel had been placed in front of them. Thankfully, he had more self-control than a ravenous child but the ache and need were there gnawing at him incessantly all the same.
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So as much as Tobirama wanted to reach out for his former lover and pull that eerie husk given false life close, he kept his hands to himself once they’d reached an uneasy stalemate kneeling there on the rough hewn rock floor. The unevenness of it dug painfully into his knees and aggravated the right knee especially which every year seemed to grow stiffer and cantankerous.
But compared to the pain in his throat, such minimal discomforts were trivial at best. The albino ninja was worried Izuna might have done some lasting damage but it would have to remain to be seen. He wasn’t going to risk anyone else coming into his hidden lab because even in this, Tobirama’s deep set need for paranoid secrecy ran deep. That…and deep down he knew if the truth came out about what he’d been doing down here. If Hashirama discovered what sort of dark and amoral things he’d been doing that his brother would shut him down.
Worse yet, he would look at him with such disappointment in his eyes and that was more than he thought he could bear. It didn’t matter that the lives sacrificed had been enemies of Konoha. For a man like Hashirama, such things were unconscionable. Tobirama had always been the more ruthless of the two…the one willing to dirty his hands in shadowy business and dirty dealings to accomplish the mission.
Those shadow filled red eyes finally rose to look up at Izuna when he sensed the other man reaching to touch his hair only to stop halfway. The Senju wanted nothing more than to lean his head up into that outstretched hand like an affectionate cat like he’d done countless times over the scant few years they’d had together. Just as Tobirama had been fascinated by the long and sleek blackness of the Uchiha’s hair so too had his colorless hair intrigued the other man and Izuna had taken especial pleasure in stroking or petting it.
But now, he couldn’t trust the Uchiha not to curl his fingers in it only to try and rip it from the turf of his scalp. Or perhaps Tobirama simply didn’t think such presumptions would be appreciated. They were standing on the razor-sharp edge of a precipice where even the slightest unbalancing of power could send them screaming over the edge into destructive madness.
“If that’s what you want.” He said softly, tone colorless and forcibly bland. Tobirama had always had a hell of a poker face and he'd gotten better at masking his feelings in the past few years but no matter how good his control, those damned eyes gave him away. They looked at Izuna with all the miserable hunger of a starving child eager to reach out and take what sweet morsel had been placed in front of them. Thankfully, he had more self-control than a ravenous child but the ache and need were there gnawing at him incessantly all the same.