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Madara scowled and flinched at the sound of a bullet impacting the concrete wall he and his subordinates were hiding behind. He was getting too old for this shit.
Okay so he wasn’t actually all that old yet, barely creeping up on his mid-thirties, but his poor ears had suffered through more than their fair share of this bullshit. He would find a new line of work if he hadn’t already entrenched himself so deeply in to this lifestyle that the mob might very well fall apart without him. Maybe he should start thinking about training a replacement soon so that he could retire. Obito was showing a lot of promise as he grew in to his later adolescence, he would make a good successor. He was also just crazy enough to enjoy this lifestyle and all the insanity that came with it. Kids these days were wild.
A chunk of something that may have been concrete but also may have been a fragment of skull bone went rocketing passed his face. At the same time one of his men jerked backwards and collapsed to the ground, falling utterly still in a way Madara recognized all too well. His nose wrinkled. Yet another widow to console, another life lost to cover up while he tried to keep his own mourning quiet to help the lower ranks keep up morale. Lately he was running out of ways to make bodies disappear in a manner that wouldn’t lead suspicion back to him or anyone that worked for him and his family. Just because it was common knowledge that the Uchiha family were connected with the mob didn’t mean they should make it easy for the law enforcement to pin them with any actual evidence.
Mistakes like today notwithstanding. If he hadn’t already taken out the cameras in this area it would be very hard to talk his way out of being accused of something here.
Speaking of law enforcement, Madara dared to peek around their cover and count the heads popping up from behind the barricade of police cruisers. He forced his eyes to skip past the head of shining white hair they wanted to catch on and focus instead on the actual bane of his existence. In another world Shimura Danzo would definitely have followed a similar nefarious path as Madara had – although probably with less than half the morals. Madara’s life was filled with illegal acts but he had a code of conduct, okay? He took care of his own and really he was just trying to make this city better. Just because his methods were shady didn’t mean he didn’t care, he simply cared in all the ways that people who followed the law couldn’t.
Unfortunately for the City of Konoha the illustrious Shimura Danzo had instead decided to dedicate his life to being a police officer. At some point he must have had high hopes for what he surely thought would be a shining career. It clearly rankled that he hadn’t made it even to Captain, stuck forever at the rank of Sergeant and taking out the frustration that gave him on the men he led. Serving under a much younger Chief of Police – the youngest their city had ever seen yet also the most competent – had turned him even more bitter. Several times now the man had tried to reach out to the underbelly of the city, determined to turn dirty cop. Madara, however, owned the underbelly of this city and he had a standing order forbidding his people from dealing with the man.
The chaos of a shootout seemed like the perfect opportunity to remove a problem he was more than tired of working around. Across the way he could see Izuna pausing at the sight of his satisfied grin, though his brother only narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It cut to the quick to be so mistrusted by his own kin. Really it did!
“What are you planning?”
“To get rid of a nuisance,” Madara said. In one smooth motion he stood, aimed, and fired then immediately dropped back down hoping no one caught enough of a look at him for a positive identification. Then he looked over to where Izuna was using a small mirror to keep track of the action. “Did I get him?”
“Yup. You definitely shot the Chief of Police.”
“WHAT!?”
Completely disregarding his own safety, Madara jerked around and popped his head out in to the open. Shimura was still standing. A foot or so to his left side Senju Tobirama, the man who had skyrocketed up the ranks since the day he joined the force, was being dragged away to safety while he very calmly attempted to staunch his own bleeding and sent a thunderous scowl toward the mob forces. Their eyes met across the mayhem for a brief moment and Madara swallowed thickly.
“I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
-
The hours he waited in the empty house that night were some of the longest he had ever spent. Owning the city always felt like less of an accomplishment during the times when he was faced with how little rights he had to his own life partner. Falling in love with a police officer was a terrible idea, he’d known that right from the moment he realized where his heart was headed, but staying with the man and supporting him all the way up to being named Chief of Police was such a spectacularly bad idea he still wondered how neither of their associates had caught wind of it yet.
Having only a select few people who knew where he called home helped with that, as well as his partner’s infamous reclusive tendencies. It did not make the waiting any easier when he knew that Tobirama was spending those hours in a hospital undergoing surgery where Madara was quite unwelcome to go visit. A known mob boss visiting an officer of the law? Yeah, not obvious at all.
Adrenaline rushed through him at the click of the lock on their front door and Madara hurried over to peek down the hall just as the tumbler slid back in to place. Tobirama’s movements were stiff but he was blessedly alone as he slid off his shoes and toed them in to the neat little spot where he always kept them, eyeing the coat hooks then sighing and trudging down the hall without removing the fur trimmed civilian jacket buttoned over what remained of his uniform. When he spotted Madara skulking around the corner he stiffened even further and turned in to the kitchen without a word.
Madara slinked after him like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. Silence stretched between them as Tobirama went through the motions of drawing a mug of tea one handed and the guilt rose higher and higher in Madara’s throat until he couldn’t take it and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“So how was your day at work?”
Obviously he realized how stupid that was the moment he said it. He really didn’t need Tobirama to slam his cup down hard enough to slosh precious Darjeeling in every direction.
“You fucking shot me, that was my day at work!” Shaking out his now scalded fingers, he turned around to return fire with the daggers in his eyes. “I’m out of commission for at least a week, if not several, and what do I have to show for it? Another ‘failed’ attempt to take down the man living in my own home. You are very fucking welcome for covering that abysmal escape, by the way, because I had to cover your ass from a god damned ambulance!”
“I’m sorry, okay!? I was aiming for that Shimura dick head!”
“Well your aim fucking sucks, go ask Kagami for a few lessons on marksmanship before you take my head off next time!”
Madara shuddered. His nephew was a walking ball of sunshine terror, too happy to be natural and too gifted with long range weaponry to be entirely human. No way was he putting himself through another round of cheerful hours on the gun range just to come out even more thankful that he’d somehow managed to keep the kid happy in the role of budding assassin. Unhappy assassins usually came after their boss and he certainly wasn’t looking to have both eyes taken out from three streets away with no evidence.
Tobirama cruelly allowed him to stew in those thoughts while he turned away again and ran cold water to soothe the fingers he had spilled tea all over. Watching him, Madara cringed as he realized he had effectively taken both the poor man’s hands out of commission. He really wasn’t doing so hot today. Some big bad boss he made when he couldn’t even care for his own partner properly.
“Let me,” he offered quietly. Tobirama subsided with a grumble, throwing himself down – gently – at the kitchen table to watch every movement with an eagle eye. It was a little nerve wracking but Madara bore up well enough until the tea was cleaned up and remade, delivered with a shamefully bowed head. While his lover drank the offering Madara tried several times to open his mouth and make his apologies but every time he thought he had the words straight in his head he would look up at Tobirama and everything in his brain would scatter all over again in favor of the heavy guilt weighing him down.
He shot his own lover. He put a bullet in to his own partner’s flesh. What words could possibly make up for that? How could Tobirama ever forgive him when he was quite sure he would never forgive himself?
“Nothing vital got hit, at least.” He jerked in surprise when Tobirama broke the silence first.
“Oh. Good. That’s…I’m sorry.” If any of his subordinates could hear how small his voice was in that moment he had no doubt that they would laugh themselves silly and lose all respect for him. No one would ever fear his retribution again if they knew how far gone he was for the man across the table.
“I’m going to bed.”
“But-!”
“Madara, I am tired. I spent nearly thirteen hours in the hospital because they allowed a first year resident to operate and he was so incompetent they had to open me up again and go back in as soon as he stitched me closed. They wanted me to stay overnight but I assured them that I had a ‘guest’ staying with me who could help and now speculations about my personal life have tripled. My own partner shot me, my officers are chomping at the bit to have you behind bars for it, and I am in so much pain I can hardly think straight.” Pushing his empty mug away, he struggled to his feet with his jaw tightening when the motion tugged on some sensitive areas. “I want nothing more than to let this fucking day end.”
He was tottering out of the kitchen a moment later, leaving Madara glaring at the floor in personal offense that it had not yet opened up and swallowed him whole. If he were as brilliant a man as his beloved then maybe he could turn to evil science, create a time machine, go back to this morning and crack himself around the head for ever pointing a weapon anywhere close to his most precious person.
Since he wasn’t a mad genius he hauled himself out of his own chair and shuffled down towards the bedroom after the other man. He found Tobirama hovering by the end of the bed plucking at the buttons of his jacket and scowling deeply, unable to move one arm and unwilling to fiddle too much now that his other hand was covered in mild burns. Madara inched in to the room until he was spotted and told himself that it was perfectly normal for a grown man to feel so small when faced with such a sharp gaze.
“Want some help?” he offered. Tobirama snorted, dropping his hand and turning his head away moodily.
Having two working hands, Madara made quick work of the buttons and helped to slide the jacket off as gently as possible. With soft-spoken requests for a movement here or a shift there he got Tobirama down to nothing but his skin, at which point he hurried over to fetch a pair of pajama pants from one of the dressers against the eastern wall of their bedroom, scurrying back to kneel down and keep Tobirama steady while the man slid one foot in to each leg. It was hard to resist letting his touches linger like they usually would with so much skin on display and his face right there where it would be only too easy to turn his head and take the man’s length in to his mouth. Fortunately he wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that without warning when the mood in the room was so clearly not headed for such activities.
Although…perhaps he could fix that. They both knew that apologies weren’t his strong suit, his words better suited to barking orders than expressing the feelings trapped in his chest. And they both also knew that he was prone to finding more physical ways to making his feelings known, whether that be doing more than his fair share of the household chores or offering certain bedroom services without asking for reciprocation.
Of course what he had done this time was hardly something he could erase with a hand job or two but there was nothing wrong with trying and doing one thing for his partner didn’t mean he was going to call it a day and forget the whole issue. He was an asshole but he wasn’t completely heartless.
Well, not when it came to Tobirama, at least.
The possibility stayed on his mind all through helping Tobirama brush his teeth and wash his face then pulling the sheets down to tuck the man underneath them and go do all those things for himself as well. By the time he was turning off the lights and sliding under the blankets he was half hard in his pajamas and almost ashamed of how much the idea appealed to him. Not because he was ashamed of his own desires, that ship had sailed more than a decade ago and he certainly had no regrets about where his appetites had taken him, but rather because he was sure it wasn’t an appropriate apology for this sort of situation.
But really, was there ever going to be a proper way to say sorry for shooting his own partner in the chest? Or shoulder. He hadn’t had a chance to take a good look at the wound yet, covered as it was by several layers of gauze. At least that particular wave of guilt could be left until tomorrow when he would of course insist on helping to change the bandages.
Madara squirmed and fretted in the dark bedroom until he nearly leapt out of his own skin when Tobirama was once again the first of them to break the silence.
“Do you know how much paperwork I would have had to do if you did manage to shoot that asshole?”
“You…” All the tension in his body was violently expelled with a hard snort of laughter. “Is that what has you so fucking grumpy?” With a grin of relief he rolled over and fitted himself again the other man’s uninjured side. Tobirama sighed moodily.
“No, I’m grumpy because you shot me. With a bullet. It hurts. And I don’t know what painkillers they gave me but I am so high but I still fucking hurt.”
Madara sniggered. “You don’t seem high to me, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t. The room is spinning. Make it stop.”
“Actually, I had a thought. I was thinking of making it spin even faster – in a different way.” He pressed a kiss to Tobirama’s shoulder but got only a huff for his troubles. Stubborn man, refusing to be seduced even when Madara was clearly being obvious about what he wanted to do.
Lolling his head to one side, Tobirama grumbled, “Faster would not help.”
“Stop being stupid and let me give you an apology blow.”
“Ah. I’m quite sure that’s not a great idea at the moment but I am also not going to stop you so long as you understand that I can’t do much in return.” His lover turned to blink hazily at him and Madara could finally see what he meant about the pain killers. That was not the same sharp gaze he had seen in the kitchen. Something must have finally kicked in. With a laugh he pressed forward to kiss those pouting lips.
“That is entirely the point love. You’re going to be angry at me again in the morning anyway so you might as well enjoy tonight, yes?” Madara waited for the other man to nod in concession of his excellent point before shuffling around and sliding further down the mattress. “Good, then just lay back and let me take care of you.”
He gleefully chuckled over the agreeable hum from his partner. Usually it was a lot easier to fluster Tobirama with blunt sex talk but apparently the influence of whatever drugs they had him on mellowed out certain inhibitions. It was a shame his job kept him strait-laced and prevented them from recreating this again another day because Madara would have loved to see what kind of filthy things he could talk his way in to like this.
A quick blowjob to see if high-Tobirama was any louder than sober-Tobirama was a good start, though. Madara licked his lips as he gently wriggled his way in between the other man’s legs, being careful not to jostle him too much, then reached for the ties of the pajama pants he had picked out just a few minutes before. If anyone happened to ask he might be convinced to admit that he had chosen these ones because this shade of red looked lovely with Tobirama’s skin and the stretchy cotton made his ass look fantastic. Luckily no one was ever likely to ask.
Briefly mourning that he wouldn’t get to see that ass bent over for him – probably for a long while – Madara bent his neck to draw his tongue along the crease where thigh met groin, smooth skin devoid of hair because his lover liked to keep himself neat in all respects. Steady breathing increased gradually the further his licks and kisses moved inwards until finally Tobirama let out a soft gasp when Madara pressed his tongue flat against the underside of the cock now stiff and full as it waited for his attention and slid all the way up to take the head in his mouth. Then he himself was tempted to moan at the feeling of having his mouth filled.
“Shit,” Tobirama whimpered above him – honest to god whimpered. Legal or not, Madara was definitely getting his hands on something to get this man high again.
In reward for such a pretty sound he slid further down to take as much in as he could. One of his hands pressed down on the hips that were beginning to squirm, hoping Tobirama didn’t hurt himself moving around too much, while his other explored whatever heated skin he could reach. His head bobbed in a slow rhythm in time with the hand that skimmed trembling thighs and traced the grooves of a clenched abdomen. It had always been Tobirama’s body that spoke his pleasure the loudest; hearing him swear so easily and so honestly went straight to Madara’s own cock.
He’d already been sporting a semi. Just that one word combined with the soft groan that followed in the wake of his hands was enough to have him rock hard inside his own pajamas.
Were he not hyper aware of the fact that this was all meant as the start of his – likely to be months long – apology he might have tried to suggest something that would be a little more mutually satisfying. Or if he also weren’t aware that doing so would probably end with Tobirama tearing out his stitches in the heat of the moment. Madara rolled his hips down and moaned around the hard flesh in his mouth, tempted by the idea of grinding himself against the mattress until another thought wriggled its way in.
Tobirama’s protest when he pulled away was garbled and indistinct in a way it never would have been were he entirely sober. It was just enough encouragement for Madara to shuffle around until he was up on his knees where he could go back to work with one hand still holding the weakly bucking hip underneath him in place. With his other he took a moment to skim down and cup his partner’s sacs, rolling them and sliding his fingers lower to trace the places he couldn’t explore until Tobirama was healed enough that the writhing he was prone to wouldn’t hurt him. Then another soft curse met his ears and Madara began to frantically pull at his own drawstrings until they were loose enough to shove the material down and take himself in hand.
His moan vibrated around the shaft he was pleasuring, earning himself yet another intoxicating sound from his partner and encouraging both his mouth and his hand to move faster. Madara was sure if he weren’t already busy concentrating on other things he would be panting as quickly as he could hear the other was. If they continued on just like that he wouldn’t have lasted all that long anyway but then the most amazing thing happened.
For probably the first time in his life Tobirama began to babble.
“Shit, feels good. Don’t…don’t stop. Just- ah. Warm. And wet. Fuck, your mouth is wet. Feels amazing. Do that – with your tongue? That-? Yes, fuck yes, that. Ma-hah! Madara…”
Every word that spilled from him wound the man between his legs higher and higher until Madara was working himself as desperately as he was bobbing his head, praying he could hold off until his partner found satisfaction yet unable to stop his hand from chasing the incredible end he could feel coming on fast. He’d never heard anything like this from Tobirama. Since the day they first gave in to the helpless attraction between them their intimate activities had been filled with a chorus of noises from his own mouth and little more than the occasional grunt from his stubbornly reticent partner.
He had almost forgotten how hot it was to hear someone else enjoying themselves as much as he was.
It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the moment Tobirama finally noticed that he was pleasuring himself at the same time. The apparently unexpected discovery was accompanied with a long drawn out sound that could only be described as lewd and an enthusiastic bucking of the hips. Madara had just enough time to brace himself before his tongue was coated with seed, the entire world fuzzing out around him a few seconds later as the tension inside him burst at last and he spilled over his own hand as well.
Gasping with a cock still filling his mouth was a little hard but Tobirama seemed to appreciate the sensation of his continuous moans until finally they were both completely spent and Madara swallowed the bitter come with only a light grimace. As much as he enjoying sucking cock he’d never really appreciated the taste of the end results. He did very much appreciate the blissed out expression that was waiting for him when he lifted his head, half-lidded eyes staring back at him, satiated and full of warmth. Madara shivered with renewed interest that he regretfully set aside for another time.
“Was a v’ry good apologize. Apology. S’a good blowjob.” Tobirama’s lips curled up in a dopey smile and Madara paused to appreciate the rare sight.
“Should I help you get back in to your pants?” He offered, not trusting himself to say anything else just yet. If he did then it would either be some mangled form of dirty talk or he would spill his whole heart out on the floor in the form of terrible poetry mixed in with a hundred more apologies. And not even sexy ones.
“Mmm. Probably should, yes.”
“Right.” Nodding to himself Madara set about righting both of their clothes and found something to wipe his hand on, snagging a bottle of water from inside the nightstand to rinse out his mouth as well.
Then he crawled up the mattress to lay himself carefully at Tobirama’s side and pulled the blankets up over both of them. He made sure they were all perfectly even and straight, just how his partner liked them, then pressed a kiss against the man’s good shoulder and curled up against him as much as he could without having to worry about jostling the injuries he had caused.
“I’ll cook you breakfast in bed tomorrow,” he promised in a whisper. “And I’ll fetch anything you want around the house. And I’ll even do my best to hold my temper when you inevitably get irritated that you can’t do anything for yourself; we both know you will, don’t deny it.” Despite his words he paused, waiting for the expected denial because Tobirama had a very selective memory when it came to his own temper, but it never came. Curious, Madara lifted his head and peek around to see what was holding his tongue.
Fast asleep. Whatever drugs they had given him were finally doing their job, pulling him down in to dreamland where the pain couldn’t touch him. As much as Madara loved having his partner’s attention he was glad that he would spend the night comfortably and find good rest.
Tomorrow he would spend the day waiting on his partner’s every beck and call. And the next day he was calling Izuna to schedule a council of the Family. Some things in this city had needed changing for a long time and while he was certainly the right man for the job he was not willing to risk the only person who had ever loved him as completely as Tobirama did. Which meant that they would need to change some things about how they themselves operated as well. First he would help his beloved feel better. Then he could go out and make the world better as he’d always intended.
By force if necessary. A smirk tilted the corners of his lips and he looked over at his sleeping partner. He always had preferred to act first and apologize later; at least with some things he rather enjoyed the apology.