#gentlemada

[majesty-z]

I've finally managed to get chapter one to a readable level. It's not finished quite yet. I've got another few thousand words to write about Madara's subsequent reaction and freak out. But yknow. I'm proud! So, here's an extract of chapter 1 to celebrate.

“Is it that you do not want me?”

“Irrelevant.” Definitely more lucid.

“Alpha.”

Kunai — no sword to the gut. Fuck. Madara almost pinned him down and—

Fuck. Fuck. Madara let go of his hair; too much of a handhold. Now that he knew how it felt in his hand — he'd have the cursed dream, wouldn't he?

“That is relevant, though.” Hashirama stared at him and fuck, where were their fear of genjutsu; why did they insist on meeting his eyes? Hashirama always had, yes, but at least Tobirama usually avoided it!

Hashirama moved closer, close enough for their knees to touch. An arm around Tobirama's torso pulled him carefully against his chest. The man went easily.

With Tobirama's hands still tangled in his hair and legs wrapped around his waist, Madara followed the movement, rising forward on his knees with a curse. His hand landed on the futon to stop him from crashing onto them, the other wrapping around Tobirama's fever-warm thigh.

Tobirama tilted back his head on Hashirama's shoulder, dropping his arms by his sides. One of his hands landed on Madara's. Hashirama slid his down to cover the one on Tobirama's thigh.

Their faces stayed breaths apart as they breathed the same air. Their eyes bore into his. The scents drove him half mad, Tobirama and — Hashirama's.

Arousal.

Warm wood with an almost caramelised scent.

His breath caught in his chest as he stopped breathing entirely. Tobirama panted, his eyes closing, neck tilted back just begging to be claimed. Hashirama's lips parted, eyes half-lidded, looking at him through long lashes.

Madara warred with himself to not activate his sharingan and preserve the memory of it.

The thighs firmly wrapped around his waist, Hashirama being so close, holding Tobirama up. Their hands on his. This position. Madara could fuck him just like this, could make Tobirama cry his name in his brother's arms.

“Do you want him?”

How could he not?

[majesty-z]

Tobirama: Anija, it hurts.

Hashirama: …Do you want a dildo?

Tobirama:

Tobirama: Yes.

[majesty-z]

This is actually a flashback. From chapter three. When I said everyone liked everyone, I meant it. They're all going to have tension between them. This is a threat.

(“Niisan?” The soft voice startled him and Tobirama's eyes slid over to the half opened door, his breath catching as they caught sight of Izuna.

Izuna with his hair down to his waist just like his older brother. Straighter, more silk-like. Izuna who looked so... soft while clad in a simple blue yukata, the Uchiha crest embroidered to mark him as theirs. He kneeled, with a soft frown and a hint of a pout on his face.

Tobirama was unable to tear his eyes away and he swallowed, too loud for even his ears. His mouth was dry.

Izuna's scent was... Tobirama's nose had always been sensitive, able to pick up on even the faintest of smells. Izuna smelled good.

Tobirama clenched his hands in his haori and willed himself not to succumb to his own lust at seeing his once-rival like this. It felt too intimate, too vulnerable to be here. Even though Izuna's heat must have already broken by now. Tobirama still felt...

Izuna cast him a simple glance, not once bothering to stiffen at having Tobirama here. His eyes went back to Madara and he leaned more against the doorway, his frown deepening. The dusty red on his cheeks made Tobirama want to... lick him.

“Niisan,” Izuna called for Madara again, his lips pressing further together. Tobirama flushed red at the wave of desire racking through him as Izuna's scent permeated the room, soft and submissive and all an omega should be. He could feel wetness on his skin and knew he had to leave now lest they noticed it too.

Madara, seated across from Tobirama, excused himself, before moving to Izuna. Tobirama watched — barely remembering to stand and leave — the display of the careful, tender way Madara held Izuna to his chest. His eyes stayed on them, marveling at how Madara's hand passed through inky black strands in comfort. How Izuna seemed to sink into the warm embrace with a purr and no worry at Tobirama seeing something so intimate passing between them.

Izuna looked at him then, just before Tobirama made his way home. He smiled, soft and indulging, his scent so sweet it made Tobirama's teeth ache.

It invited him to stay.)

[majesty-z]

Just realised that Madara can't use Amaterasu and that I'll have to remove that part unfortunately...

Madara couldn't be sure that Tobirama would have wanted outside of heat. And the heat didn't seem to be life-threatening? He could most likely ride it out by himself but... Tobirama looked back at him with glazed-over eyes. They seemed intelligent enough to answer him. If he didn't need him then... “You won't die, will you?” “Are you that rough?” Hashirama startled, head tilting. Madara's eyes almost activated the mangekyou to Amaterasu Hashirama into shutting it, before he clenched his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he growled out, words low and dragged out, “without my help, Hashirama. Will he die without my help.” “Ah...” Madara glared, teeth bared, opening his eyes to Hashirama sulking, before he shifted his gaze to Tobirama. The omega's eyes slowly brimmed with tears, his lips starting to tremble. (Like older brother, like younger brother.) “...Yes.” So, he wouldn't after all.

[majesty-z]

One minutes before midnight.

(Punching him would feel too much like abusing a sad, pathetic pet. Madara controled his hands. Sage, where were his hands? WHERE WERE THEY? In Tobirama's hair, the other on his back?? Still??? Sage. Sage.)

[majesty-z]

Snippet that isn't making it into the main fic. From chapter 2. GentleMada one...

“And you have such arrangements?”

Madara looked at him, eyes unreadable for a moment. “Were Tobirama to accept my courting, I would, of course, end them.”

That was not what he asked but it did answer his question. Hashirama shifted in unease. Madara talked to him not as his friend, Hashirama, but as Tobirama's older brother. It felt... uncomfortable. Hashirama rubbed at his chest as he nodded absently, lost in thought. Madara seemed to not talk to him as an equal anymore and that...

“I would not have assumed otherwise.” Hashirama looked back at Madara, finding him already watching him.

The arrangements refer to people who'll help during heats/ruts. Think friends with benefits.

[majesty-z]

Extract from the GentleMada fic... This is from chapter 2...

Hashirama felt Madara before he even made a sound. He didn't need to knead sensory chakra to know where Madara was, especially when he was right there, behind him. Hashirama waited, head tilted up as he watched the stars. His palms touched cool stone as he leaned on them.

As strange as it felt to be sitting on a replica of his own head, the view was incredible. It only got better the more time passed and the bigger the village grew. Hashirama loved to see their progress so concretely.

This was the village he and Madara had built.

Hashirama couldn't hear a single footstep yet he knew Madara was getting closer behind him. He kept his eyes on the village as he felt Madara settle next to him. Only after a moment did Hashirama finally turn; the smile already on his face turned brighter (more real) when he noticed Madara watching him.

They didn't speak for another long moment. Hashirama was content to take Madara in. The way he sat with poise, his hair blowing in the wind, his seemingly perpetual frown gone, replaced by a soft smile Hashirama seemed to only see when it was just them.

Idly, he thought. He did not want Madara to look at Tobirama like this.

He wanted the smile to stay for him and only him. And it was selfish. Hashirama was selfish. Tobirama was home right now, spending a heat alone and here was Hashirama with the alpha his heart belonged to.

(But even if Hashirama was not here, Madara would not have been with Tobirama either. Hashirama was not taking anything from him. Not like how Tobirama was trying to do. Was succeeding at.)

“Hashirama.” His voice rumbled, his tongue rolling the syllables in his mouth. Hashirama had never been more happy for his name. He didn't think he would even care had Madara called another name while looking at him like that, with that softness.

“Madara,” he said softly. Something precious. He wanted to lean in his arms but he was also loathed to move and break this trance they were in. Hashirama almost wondered about genjutsu before deciding it wasn't important. So long as Madara was here.

Madara tilted his head, his hair followed the movement with a gentle sway. Slowly, he raised a hand and patted his lap. Hashirama blinked, looking at the hand on his thigh before his eyes went back to Madara's. Madara raised an eyebrow.

Hashirama laid his head on Madara's lap.

A hand landed in his hair before slowly starting to pet him. Hashirama's chest gave a low, pleased rumble and he was under no illusion that Madara couldn't feel it. Madara didn't stop, his other hand moving to rest on Hashirama's chest. Hashirama's eyes closed and he blinked slowly, raising a hand to hold Madara's.

Madara looked down at him, smile still ever-present. Although he couldn't see it with Madara's high collar, Hashirama could see it in his eyes — in the way the corners creased and the way there was a glint in them. Madara's hair framed his face.

Hashirama was sure that had the hair been less... spikier — more like his own, then Madara's hair would have fallen over them like a curtain, covering them like a waterfall.

Madara looked away, face tilting to watch their village. And it was theirs. Hashirama wanted to be looked at too and rumbled louder. Madara simply tangled his fingers in his hair and brushed them.

He didn't need to force his pleased scent when Madara scratched his scalp with blunt nails. Madara's own was present in the air although the wind dispersed most of it. With the way his wrist kept rubbing against him, Hashirama would still be smelling like Madara later.

Together, they smelled like a warm day in summer. Something like warm wood.

“The village has grown, hasn't it?” Certainly. “I did not imagine it could ever be like this. I hoped, yes, but... it was fragile. It is only thanks to you that peace has been made.”

Hashirama squeezed his hand.

He didn't speak. What was there to say? That it was only with Madara that Hashirama would want to share this peace with? That without him, he would have never known the village of their dreams could ever be possible?

Madara knew all of that.

Madara knew him.

Just as Hashirama knew Madara in return.

[majesty-z]

I've got a 13k multi-chapter Naruto fic that I'm not even sure I'll post. I've got three chapters. Which are basically prologue. Guess who it's about. Fucking guess.

Ding ding ding.

The fucking Konoha Founders. Omegaverse.

I'm calling it the GentleMada fic... Because. Gentleman Madara... GentleMada...

It's a long story...