Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Of course I remembered the stupid maps!” Izuna snapped, and Tobirama rolled his eyes, continuing to sort through the utterly disorganised mess of papers Izuna had shoved in the bag he carried. Tobirama had wanted to pack the required references himself, but he’d had a meeting this morning with Hashirama and two of the newer Clan Heads. He bitterly regretted that meeting for a number of reasons now, not least of which was his now being subjected to Izuna’s organisational skills.

“Ohhh, fuck.” Izuna muttered.

“What, did you suddenly remember you did not bring the survey maps?” Tobirama asked, eyes narrowing as he raised his head. “Or are you simply realising how much of a disaster you are with paperwork?”

It was a little surprising, really; Madara was much better at this. And if Izuna treated his paperwork the same way, Tobirama was surprised he was still breathing. Or, at least, willing to touch paperwork. Madara might not actually kill his otouto for fucking up his paperwork - probably - but he would no doubt have made the lesson . . . stick.

Izuna didn’t answer, but that wasn’t horribly surprising; Tobirama hadn’t really expected an answer.

Tobirama glanced at the scroll case Izuna was holding, wondering if-

“Is that smoke?” Tobirama questioned, startled.

“Fuck.” Izuna breathed.

Tobirama glanced up but Izuna wasn’t looking at his hands, he was looking at. . . Tobirama followed his gaze and saw both of their brothers just coming to a stop nearby, Hashirama smacking at his own sleeve, which was smouldering. Madara - who looked a little the worse for wear himself, and appeared to have twigs in his hair - only laughed at Hashirama as he finally scrambled to haul the smouldering shirt off entirely.

“Madara!” Hashirama pouted at Madara, shirt in hands. Tobirama shook his head and looked back to Izuna.

“. . .yes, that is definitely smoke. Izuna. Izuna.” Tobirama raised his voice sharply. “Fire!”

“Hm?” Izuna said absently.

“You!” Tobirama barked. “Idiot Uchiha! You are on fire!”

Madara’s laughter broke off abruptly as he took another step back from Hashirama and swept his hands over his chest and sides, looking himself over. Tobirama blinked.

. . .idiot Uchiha. Tobirama fought to stifle laughter, raising a hand to his face. Perhaps he had called Madara that a few too many times.

Izuna had finally realised the scroll case in his hands was on fire, at least, and had begun yelping as he put it - and himself - out. Tobirama took it away, shaking his head.

“Are you quite finished?” Tobirama asked dryly as Izuna flicked bits of char off his palms. He was uninjured, at least. Tobirama refreshed his mental note to ask Madara about his theory on Uchiha being at least mildly fire resistant.

If he chose the right moment to pose his questions, Madara would probably agree to help him with a few tests. For curiosity’s sake. Madara could be very obliging. In the right mood.

For Tobirama, in any case.

“Tobi! What are you doing out this way?” Hashirama asked cheerfully, heading their way with Madara at his heels.

Tobirama met his lover’s eyes with a small smile, and Madara made a gruff sound, dipping his head, but returned it. Tobirama shifted his attention to his Anija. “Now that we’ve finalised the agreements with a few more clans, Izuna and I,” he gestured to his companion, “are out to check details against the survey maps and stake out boundary lines for them.”

“Right!” Izuna agreed, nodding, and Tobirama tilted his head, eying the scorched patch on Izuna’s shirt over his hip. “Busy!”

“Assuming Izuna remembered to put the survey maps in with the agreements.” Tobirama added dryly, shaking the papers he held.

“Oh I’m sure it’ll be all right!” Hashirama said encouragingly. “Right, Izuna-kun?”

Tobirama snorted, glancing at Izuna as he caught his breath, meeting Hashirama’s gaze. Madara offered a hand and Tobirama happily turned over the stack he’d been sorting through and opened the scroll case Izuna had been carrying.

A minute later Tobirama finally had the missing map in hand, and he accepted the rest of the papers back from Madara with a nod of thanks. He smothered a laugh at Madara’s expression as he looked over at their brothers, and shifted his own attention.

“Not to interrupt,” Tobirama said, making Izuna twitch and fall silent, fingers sliding off Hashirama’s forearm, “but we should probably be on our way if we want to finish these some time today.” he said pointedly.

Izuna scowled. “I don’t think we’re that pressed for-”

“Oh, right! So should we!” Hashirama agreed, nodding sharply. “I need to get over to the new Hyuuga compound! I promised to speak with them again today.”

“You might want to head home first, at least briefly.” Madara said dryly, and Hashirama looked at him with a slight frown. “Wouldn’t want one of the uptight fuckers to keel over from the shock.” he said, gesturing at Hashirama, who glanced down, having apparently forgotten that he was no longer wearing his shirt.

“Oh!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tobirama said, glancing sidelong at Izuna and smirking, “it might not be shock causing any swoons; Hyuuga Hikaru has been quite taken with you. . .”

Hashirama flushed lightly, and Tobirama snickered. “Tobi!” Hashirama pouted at him. “I don’t want to- to do that either!”

“I suppose it would be distracting from your official reason to see him, after all.” Tobirama agreed, watching Izuna’s expression tilt between horror and relief.

“I don’t know how you do official paperwork,” Madara said, brows arching, “but-”

“Oh don’t you?” Tobirama teased, winking, and Madara stilled.

Then his dark eyes narrowed, and Tobirama grinned.

“Tobi.” Madara almost growled, and Tobirama suppressed any outward sign of the shiver that ran down his spine.

“Best be off! Hyuuga to see!” Tobirama reminded them, and hooked an arm around Izuna’s. “And we have boundary lines to set!”

“Right, yes.” Izuna shook his head, glancing back at their brothers once more but already moving along with Tobirama. “See you later, Aniki.”

“See you later. Both of you.” Madara said pointedly, catching Tobirama’s eye, and he turned away before his grin could give him away. He certainly had no objection.

“I didn’t realise you were attracted to Hashirama.” Madara said, fighting not to let his lip curl. Hashirama was his best friend, but. . . He shuddered.

“I’m not!” Izuna yelped, jerking sideways and almost falling out of his chair.

Very convincing.

“I was there this morning. Even if I hadn’t noticed myself, I heard Tobirama.” Madara pointed out dryly.

“Oh, of course you did.” Izuna snorted, and Madara’s brows rose.

“Excuse me?” Madara asked evenly.

“Look at you! You responded to ‘Idiot Uchiha’!” Izuna snapped, making a disgusted face. “Have you no pride, Aniki?”

Madara crossed his arms, lips tilting into a smirk. “Bold words,” he said, leaning forwards, “from the idiot Uchiha who set his own ass on fire.”

“I did not!” Izuna gaped at him, offended.

“Perhaps not directly.” Madara snorted. “But it was damn close.”

“How did you get your Senju’s attention, then?” Izuna snapped, and Madara laughed. Was that the best he could do?

“Not by setting myself on fire!” Madara shook his head, leaning back in his chair. Though Tobirama had asked him for help with a katon experiment that Madara had . . . misgivings over, but would probably wind up assenting to assist with regardless. Tobirama was very persuasive, as well as being relentless when his curiosity was aroused.

It was attractive, when it wasn’t also terrifying. Sometimes simultaneously.

Madara tilted his head to one side. He had also set Hashirama on fire more than once, which Tobirama tended to find amusing these days, but had no doubt not been helpful in his initial courting, when Tobirama’s memory was primarily full of all the battles they had fought opposite one another.

Madara waved off Izuna’s pestering. “I’ve set his brother on fire once or twice,” he said, and shook his head, “Hashirama wouldn’t find that amusing, though. He’d be sad at you.”

Also if Tobirama didn’t make Izuna regret trying it, Madara would himself. He narrowed his eyes at his brother to make that point.

“Aniki! How am I- I mean. . .” Izuna looked miserable.

Madara floundered briefly.

“Much as it pains me to say it,” Tobirama broke in, and Madara smiled reflexively, lifting his head; he hadn’t heard Tobirama enter, “if you want to get Anija’s attention, you should use words. Very clearly. He will absolutely not notice your flirting otherwise.”

“I haven’t been flirting!” Izuna protested, looking almost offended.

“Yes, we noticed.” Madara said dryly, and Tobirama snickered.

“Tobirama!” Izuna’s voice got rather higher as he turned to glare at Tobirama. He didn’t pause, crossing the room to join Madara.

“What? You definitely weren’t flirting with my Anija . . . just like you didn’t set yourself on fire this morning. Right?” Tobirama said, leaning down and bracing one arm lightly against Madara’s shoulder.

Izuna fidgeted.

Madara leaned back a little harder in his chair. “Oh for- Just ask for help, Izu. So you can get advice and then get out for the night.” he added, tilting his chin up pointedly. Madara didn’t mind his otouto coming begging at his table most nights, not really, but he did want his time alone with his lover.

Izuna pouted at him with wide eyes, and Madara gestured impatiently.

Tobirama squeezed Madara’s shoulder, thumb rubbing against his neck. “Words, Izuna.” Tobirama said, not unkindly. “Clearly and simply. Then you can try flirting, gifts, displays,” he squeezed Madara’s shoulder again, glancing down at him with a playful smirk, “whatever you like. But . . . he won’t realise what you’re doing unless you tell him. First. He didn’t notice Hyuuga Hikaru’s regard for him until I pointed it out.” he added, sighing.

Izuna nodded, though he looked anxious and unsettled, then a bit mulish. “Hyuuga?”

Madara grimaced, glancing at Tobirama.

“Mind, I don’t like him either.” Tobirama said, shaking his head. “Not in general and definitely for Anija.” Madara grumbled, shuddering at the thought. “Oh you can’t think a Hyuuga would actually match Hashirama, in any way.”

Madara had to admit that the idea of one of the hidebound, uptight, coldly formal Hyuuga catching Hashirama’s attention in such a way, much less his heart, struck him as more than ridiculous.

“But for me. . .” Izuna hesitated. “You- You think. . .” he trailed off, leaning forwards and looking down at the table.

“Izuna, what is it?” Madara prompted when Izuna didn’t continue, as gently as he could manage considering his impatience.

“Tobirama. Do you think he will. . .” Izuna looked up again.

Madara glanced up at Tobirama, then reached out and clasped his brother’s wrist. “Just . . . talk to him, Izu.” he said gently. “I think you . . . might be surprised how well it’s received.”

Izuna looked desperately hopeful. “I. . . I was thinking about flowers?” he said, blushing.

“You were going to bring Hashirama flowers?” Madara repeated, brows rising.

Izuna winced, and Tobirama flicked Madara’s shoulder. “That would probably make him happy. As long as they are accompanied by a clear declaration. He likes flowers.” he said, and Izuna took a breath, nodding.

They sent him off soon after, determined to approach Hashirama and - hopefully - actually speak with him in the morning.

“I hope he does.” Madara said quietly, closing the door as Izuna strode down the path to his own home, just on the other side of a shared garden and small practise ground.

Tobirama moved closer, hands smoothing over his sides, and nuzzled his shoulder. “That eager for your brother to get-”

Madara elbowed him. “Do not finish that.” he ordered, turning to face his snickering lover. Tobirama grinned at him, and Madara huffed, but he couldn’t fight his own answering smile. He tugged Tobirama in closer, resting their brows together, and Tobirama relaxed into him with a low almost-purr.

“You know,” Tobirama said, toying with Madara’s hair, “your brother has reminded me of a few curiosities I have about your clan. . .”

Madara sighed. “Something to do with our fire?” he guessed, and Tobirama grinned. Of course it was. And if Izuna had reminded him, today, it probably had something to do with being set on fire. “All right, tell me.” he said despite his guess, because Tobirama would certainly not let go of something that had aroused his curiosity.

Madara never could resist that smile and the light in his eyes when he was chasing down a new mystery, anyway.

“Yes?” Hashirama called, half hoping the knocking was someone who would offer a distraction - a break - from the work he had been immersed in all morning . . . and half fearing it would be more work, or something to invalidate what he had already done. . .

“Am I interrupting?” Izuna asked, sticking his head in through the door, and Hashirama beamed.

“Yes! Please interrupt!” Hashirama said, beckoning, and Izuna laughed as he withdrew again, opening the door and coming in properly. Hashirama beamed at him. “What can I do for you?” He paused, eyes widening, and gave Izuna a horrified look. “You don’t have something else to do with these- Erm. . .” He shuffled through the papers on his desk, looking for-

“No, Hashirama-sama.” Izuna said, his voice lilting with amusement. Hashirama grimaced at the title before smiling at him again. “I just wanted to speak with you. It’s . . . personal, not, ah, something requiring the Hokage’s attention, though, so perhaps I should have waited.”

“Nonsense! Come in.” Hashirama waved him towards a chair. “Er, my brother isn’t out there is he?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“Ah, no, I believe he and Madara were working on something in the compound today.” Izuna offered, and Hashirama sighed, relaxing a little. “Are you all right?”

“Fine!” Hashirama assured him, smiling. He was silent for a moment, watching Izuna hovering without taking a seat - or speaking of whatever had brought him here. “Izuna-kun?” he questioned gently.

“Right!” Izuna twitched. “I- That is.” He blushed, and Hashirama leaned forwards.

“Izuna-kun, are you-” Hashirama fell silent, startled, as Izuna shoved a bright lily at him across the desk. The stem, he noticed after a moment, was faintly . . . singed under Izuna’s fingers, smoke twisting up in several small curls. Much as the scroll case yesterday had been, though Izuna had seemed so embarrassed about that Hashirama hadn’t mentioned it - Madara had certainly thought it was amusing. “Izuna?”

“For you. I-” Izuna lifted his chin as Hashirama accepted the lily, smiling at it; it was pretty, the bloom itself a little oversized for its stem, with happily-curling petals. “You’re gorgeous and sweet and amazing and I’ve maybe gotten . . . flustered around you but I didn’t know how to tell you any of this, or if you would even. . .”

“Oh! You’re very handsome and sweet as well, Izuna-kun.” Hashirama assured him, eyes wide.

“Hashirama.” Izuna almost moaned, and Hashirama paused, swallowing. Izuna clasped his hand for a moment, then released him, and Hashirama reflexively grabbed for him before he could pull away too far. Izuna’s breath caught. “I think you are very attractive, in all kinds of ways, and I would like- I would- Are you even interested?” Izuna asked, sounding a little helpless, with a shallow, hitching breath.

Hashirama’s eyes ticked to the little glow that showed across his plush mouth for a moment, and then the thin, rapidly dissipating curls of smoke on his breath. It was distracting and . . . Madara sometimes spat sparks and smoke when he was angry but Hashirama had certainly never seen him do anything like this.

Not that he would have, he supposed, of course not. And Madara’s control seemed to be somewhat better than Izuna’s regardless.

Hashirama realised Izuna was looking more and more anxious; he had been silent for too long. He squeezed Izuna’s hand reassuringly even as he rose from behind his desk.

“If I kiss you, do I need to learn how to swallow fire?” Hashirama asked with some concern. Tobirama had never mentioned any troubles like that, but . . . Tobirama probably wouldn’t have. And he was very comfortable with Madara’s fire, from what Hashirama had seen - probably more than Hashirama could hope to be, maybe . . . maybe unfortunately.

Izuna’s eyes widened, and then his blush returned, deeper this time.

“I mean, if . . . if you would like me to kiss you.” Hashirama added belatedly, flustered.

Izuna laughed breathily. “I would love for you to kiss me.” he said, light and warm. “I won’t burn you; I promise.” he added softly, twining their fingers.

Hashirama beamed, coming around the desk and tugging gently at Izuna. He moved closer obligingly, and shivered as Hashirama stroked his cheek, cupping his jaw.

Hashirama moved slowly, in case Izuna changed his mind - or had meant . . . eventually, not now - but Izuna only watched him with dark, heavy-lidded eyes that fluttered closed as Hashirama leaned in. Izuna’s mouth was soft and warm against his own, and Izuna’s fingers crept up over his shoulder, curling into his shirt as Izuna let out a soft purring sound.

Hashirama wrapped an arm around his slim waist, holding him close, and he arched into the embrace even as their lips parted.

“Oh. . .” Izuna breathed, lips tilting into a smile.

“Oh, Izuna.” Hashirama fought the impulse to crush Izuna into a tighter hug or lift him off his feet or-

Izuna slid one hand up behind his neck, tugging him into another kiss, and Hashirama forgot entirely about the paperwork spread across his desk behind him - and about the restraint he had been clinging to, dragging Izuna in tight against himself.

Izuna didn’t seem to mind, slanting his mouth across Hashirama’s eagerly, fingers curling into his hair, and Hashirama sank into the warmth of it with delight.

Izuna focused fiercely on his hands, making a single seal and pushing with his chakra and- “Ow!”

A spill of water doused his sleeve before the bright embers could catch, and Izuna sighed.

“While I appreciate the gesture, your brother is already assisting me with my newest experiments and observations.” Tobirama said, and Izuna blinked, then stiffened, glaring at him.

“I am not trying to help you!” Izuna snapped, and Tobirama snickered. Of course. He had known Izuna wasn’t- “I hate you. I’m working on something.”

“I’m wounded.” Tobirama said dryly. “What are you doing? I would have thought you mastered setting yourself on fire years ago. You certainly do it thoroughly enough.”

“Shut up!” Izuna puffed a little fireball at Tobirama, and he barely bothered to swat it away with an answering curl of suiton. “It’s- It’s a surprise for Hashirama.” he said, feeling his face warm. Tobirama arched a brow, and Izuna grumbled.

“My Anija is remarkably resistant to being set on fire, but I think he would still prefer not to be.” Tobirama said evenly.

“I am not going to set him on fire!” Izuna snapped, and Tobirama snorted, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not. That’s-”

“Why you’re practising?” Tobirama suggested, his tone less prickly.

“Yes.” Izuna sighed, looking at his hands. They weren’t singed, of course - even with something as unwieldy as what he was trying to do, he was too skilled for that - but he hadn’t managed to hold the katon to what he wanted for more than a breath yet either.

“What are you trying to do?” Tobirama asked curiously.

Izuna fidgeted, then sighed. He breathed a katon and shaped the seal, focusing very tightly and bringing the flame into the shape of a branching lily. It held for one breathless moment, then fell into a sputtering twist of flames.

“Oh.” Tobirama said, and Izuna looked at him sidelong, tense.

“Oh what?” Madara asked, and Izuna cast a look heavenwards. Of course they would both be here to see his considerably less than impressive attempts. Of course. Why not?

Izuna supposed he could have gone further afield - this was really a shared space between his home and his brother’s - but he really hadn’t thought he was likely to be interrupted this morning. Nor that what he wanted would be so difficult to perfect.

“Izuna is evidently intending to gift my Anija with fire flowers.” Tobirama explained to Madara, and Izuna winced.

“Ah, of course. Like the celebratory katon.” Madara said, and Izuna froze.

“What?” Izuna turned to look at him, and Madara’s brows rose.

“Are you not using the jutsu?” Madara questioned, cocking his head.

“Those aren’t flowers.” Izuna reminded pointedly. “I might be able to show him a hawk or some such, but it wouldn’t be-”

“The shape isn’t confined by the jutsu.” Madara said, frowning.

“Celebratory katon?” Tobirama interrupted, looking between them.

Madara smiled at him, expression immediately softening. “We set them off at weddings and the like.” he offered, catching Tobirama’s hand and kissing the palm.

Izuna huffed. “Like this.” He ran through the seals absently and sent a trio of fiery hawks spiralling into the air above them. Tobirama made a soft sound of either understanding or appreciation, and then Madara followed suit, sending up more hawks. His and Izuna’s chased one another in exuberant circles, a familiar pattern that made Izuna smile despite the morning’s frustrations.

Izuna jumped as one more wheeling avian figure shot up in the middle of the others - this time formed of water. He glanced at Tobirama, finding him grinning up at the display, fingers twitching, guiding his own jutsu no doubt.

“Very impressive.” Tobirama said approvingly, and Izuna hummed, a little pleased despite himself.

“They’re hawks though,” Izuna pointed out again; he could do that jutsu easily, had mastered it years ago, but that wasn’t what he wanted, “not-”

“Izuna.” Madara drew his attention, and Izuna released his jutsu, looking to his brother. Madara shaped the familiar seals, and Izuna huffed. He had just seen-

Fire leapt from Madara’s lips, swirling over his hands, and shaped itself into a prowling cat, a leaping squirrel, and a spreading tree.

“I. . . What.” Izuna demanded.

“The jutsu offers shape to the katon, but you don’t have to allow it. It takes its shape from your will.” Madara said, and the cat leapt into the branches of the tree, chasing after the squirrel, before the whole disappeared in a compact swirl. Izuna hated his brother a tiny bit for the display. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing.” Izuna snapped, and formed the seals for the familiar jutsu, focusing firmly on the lily he wanted to emulate this time. The katon whirled, stretching up over his hands and falling into the contained shape of the flower; a slender stem, several blooms, and long, almost feathery leaves.

It wavered a little - fire wanted to be free; the hawks offered constant movement where the flower was still - but it was stable. Izuna felt a fool.

“Well done.” Madara offered, squeezing his shoulder. “Are you going to join us for breakfast?” he asked, and Izuna shook his head.

“I’m . . . going to practise a little more.” he said, then shifted awkwardly. “Thank you, Aniki.” he added softly, and Madara hummed, rubbing his shoulder before releasing it.

He and Tobirama walked away behind Izuna, and he could hear Tobirama pelting his brother with questions about the jutsu, and Madara’s amused, affectionately tolerant responses. Izuna shook his head, amused himself but not surprised, and turned his attention back to katon before him and the tricky form he was holding it to.

Hashirama would be pleased, he thought, then laughed a little. Hashirama was easily delighted, but it pleased Izuna to show off for him, as well; he was too Uchiha not to wish to earn his beloved’s admiration as well as his affection.

Lucky Izuna that his beloved offered both freely and openly, he thought with a fond hum, exerting a little control on the fiery lily he held before him and making it quiver on its stem as though caught in a soft breeze.