Work Text:
There's no such thing as absolute happiness. Not for one person.
That's what Tobirama thinks as Madara Uchiha brutalizes him on a regular basis.
Face pressed into the ground as Madara's weight bears upon him as if the man's trying to push him under the soil, bury him alive.
Madara's ripping into his body again. Every single movement of that Uchiha radiated hate. As if he was trying to tear apart something that Tobirama held inside him and take it away.
Tobirama knew exactly what that man was trying to take away. And he laughs from the knowledge that's the only thing Madara Uchiha can't have.
Yes, Madara hated him. Hated him with a vengeance that went past the name of their clans, past the pile of corpses that they have both gathered like monuments on each side of the battlefields.
Madara hated him because Tobirama had touched a part of Izuna that he shouldn't have.
A part even Madara couldn't have.
Society wouldn't allow it. Decency would forbid it.
And the knowledge of it makes the man more brutal.
Madara's eyes narrowed at Tobirama's smirk. His fingers dug in deeper as he pushed the pale face further into the ground. His hips continued the brutal rhythm, in and out of the sweltering heat of Tobirama.
A scream escapes him as Madara's nails tear down on the inside of his thigh. The Uchiha did it deliberately, knowing exactly what Tobirama was thinking.
The pain did nothing to dull Tobirama's pleasure.
Because from where he was, on the ground, face pressed to the side by Madara’s hand on his jaw, the colours of this Uchiha looked too close to the other Uchiha.
Tobirama's Uchiha.
And Tobirama takes it, the hate, the pain, the desire and the denial.
Because he wouldn't get it from Izuna.
Izuna didn't love him enough to hold him down so hard, and didn't hate him enough to force him through this pain.
Izuna was lukewarm towards Tobirama. He gave what the Senju coaxed out of him, with love or with force but never more.
“Does it feel like you're closer to him now?” Tobirama's voice is strained as he groans it out.
He shouldn't goad Madara. He really shouldn't.
But it's so hard not to rub it in. To not flaunt.
Sharingan flares and Tobirama doesn't look away. Madara's fingers clamp around his throat, threatening to cut away the air from his lungs.
And all Tobirama feels is satisfaction from the knowledge that even though Tobirama only gets bits and scraps from Izuna, Madara will never get to have even that.
Madara comes to him, to take out that frustration. Tears through his body with jealous hate and also in search of the proximity that he'd shared with Izuna.
All Madara had, was turmoil.
And that made Tobirama happy.
Burn you bastard. Burn to death from the inside. That's all he could think.
And Madara did burn, like he was holding in a katon he couldn't breathe out.
Tobirama's hands grasp desperately at the iron grip around his neck, thrashing in earnest as he feels the lack of air pushing him past his limit.
But even in that haze, vision dimmed, Madara looks so much like Izuna that Tobirama forgets his hate. Forgets the brutal hands bruising and the shaft that was ripping into him.
“...iz..na” the name slips out of him like a gasp. And something in Madara changes.
His grip around Tobirama's neck lightens and then loosens completely as it shifts to cup the back of his neck almost as if it's not Tobirama that's under him.
Madara stills his brutal rhythm, buries his face on the crook of Tobirama's neck and a low guttural noise tears through him like some animal in pain and Tobirama for a moment, knows that pain.
Tobirama also felt the similar every time Izuna turned away from him, leaving him after their lovemaking without hesitation to go back to his clan, his brother and his world.
And that was after Tobirama had received so much from Izuna.
Madara never even had that. And for a moment all Tobirama felt was empathy.
It must have been the dizzying lack of oxygen that made him wrap his arms around Madara right then.
Tobirama shushes mutely, hand burying in the long black hair that was the same exact shade as Izuna's. And when Madara moved again, his face was still buried in the crook of Tobirama's throat.
But his movement lacked viciousness. Instead it got filled with a desperate longing.
Tobirama held Madara exactly the way Izuna held Tobirama when they made love.
Madara knew it because he'd witnessed their lovemaking. Burning from tips of his hair to the bottom of his feet, he'd witness all of it without looking away and he's been burning ever since.
He takes it, the illusion, the familiarity and the proximity of Izuna, all that Tobirama offers to Madara, Madara takes.
His lips drag across the column of Tobirama's neck, knowing just hours ago, Izuna's lips had passed here. He chases the taste all the way to the pale lips.
Their mouths lock with desperation and they both groan.
Under him Tobirama felt feverish. He curls around the older Uchiha, feeling the longing in him that mirrored so well his own and they both forget that they hate each other.
Their hands move, lips follow, meeting again and again in breathless contact as Madara picks his pace again.
And Tobirama begs, he writhes and begs and it's Izuna's name that spills from his mouth and that just makes the Uchiha more desperate.
Just the name of Izuna invokes something in both of them. Just the memory of that man has them clawing at each other, both trying to taste what the other men held.
Madara chased the forbidden proximity and Tobirama chased the devotion that Izuna only ever gave to Madara.
They both loved Izuna in a way so incomplete they almost hated him for the pain such love caused.
But it's okay.
They had each other to complete whatever that was missing.
Madara comes with a groan and brings Tobirama down with him from their shared delirium.
For a moment, they stay like that, limbs tangled, bodies entwined with such longing that one could think them lovers. They hold onto the illusion just until their breaths stabilize and then Madara's gone.
And then it's Tobirama's turn to burn when he sees Madara walk up to Izuna.
And there's no relief for his burn, as he watches Izuna's face soften and finally break into a smile that was reserved only ever for Madara.
Tobirama watches as Madara walks up so close, crossing the distance Tobirama only rarely could with such facility that he feels sick from jealousy.
Izuna talks, and Madara's just so close to him.
“Nii san, you're not even listening to me.” Izuna crosses his arms in annoyance.
Madara laughs, pulls their foreheads together, lips pressing against the corner of Izuna's mouth. Too close for a brother. If Izuna's lips stretched into a smile, their mouths would brush.
It was all Tobirama could do, to not cross the distance and rip Madara apart limb from limb.
“I'm not going to repeat again” Izuna declares and pulls away annoyed, wiping angrily at his cheek where Madara's lips had been. It's always like this. Madara doesn't listen to half of the things he says.
But he can't hold onto his anger as his brother slings an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close as they walk towards home.
Neither Izuna nor Tobirama noticed. But Madara's eyes lingered on the barely noticeable mark Tobirama had left behind Izuna's ear.
And he burns from the same fire Tobirama burns from.
Not being able to live, not being able to die.