Chapter 3 - Hashirama’s Pictures
The minute he got the chance, Hashirama called to attention everyone in his first block class to gather around as he pulled up the pictures of Madara and Tobirama he had taken on his phone. It was still relatively early and Madara usually took his time getting to class since he lived on campus, so Hashirama had plenty of time to gush and embarrass his baby brother and best friend without the threat of a slow and painful death.
Or so he thought.
Minutes before the tardy bell rang, Hashirama’s fellow classmates were still huddled around his desk, deeply engrossed in the gossip he had single-handedly incited. He was rather proud of himself, too. It served Madara right for allowing his baby brother to be such a delinquent. It wasn’t until a dark shadow forced the crowd to part that he realized he maybe should have put more effort into being discreet about his payback.
Madara loomed over his desk, malicious intent rolling off of him in nigh visible waves. Hashirama shrank back in his seat, clutching his phone to his chest.
“Delete. Them. Now,” Madara growled with murderous emphasis. Hashirama remained frozen for a moment before he bolted out of his chair, making a run for it. “Get back here!” Fat chance. Hashirama leapt over a couple desks, making a beeline for the door. Madara was hot in pursuit, shouting various profanities that Hashirama would chastise him for if he weren’t too busy running for his life.
As it were, neither of them were able to escape a mutual doom as the professor stepped through the door at that moment. Hashirama scrambled to try to stop, but even if he had been able to, Madara rammed into him from behind, knocking them both forward and into the poor, poor professor. Hashirama silently pledged to do everything in his capability to kiss ass, if he were even permitted to remain the class.
Their punishment was a far cry from expulsion. They were both sentenced to clapping erasers after school (leave it to their luck to get in trouble in the one classroom that still used a chalk board). Madara made ample use of their time together by lavishing Hashirama with a variety of colourful threats, to which Hashirama replied with a wide grin and a reminder of just why he had those pictures in the first place. Madara quieted down after that, accusing Hashirama of filthy blackmail.
Hashirama didn’t deny it.
Chapter 3 - Madara’s Shower
The Senju brothers were not idle while Madara showered in their home. Hashirama dug out a suitable blanket and a couple pillows from the hallway closet, preparing to bring them out to the futon. Tobirama appeared at the other end of the hallway, heading toward his room. Both brothers stopped in their tracks, however, as a rather questionable sound was emitted from the bathroom.
Hashirama’s and Tobirama’s eyes met, the former’s face draining of all colour before regaining it in a vicious red. Tobirama smirked and fisted his hand to make a jerking-off motion, making that jizz-in-my-pants expression. Hashirama gaped and rushed past the bathroom to half-tackle his brother away from it, a scandalized expression on his face. Tobirama just laughed, and Hashirama threw a glance back down the hallway. He just hoped Madara would clean any mess he left behind.
Chapter 3 - The Morning After
The next day, after Madara and the Senju brothers had eaten breakfast, Tobirama left the house to catch the approaching bus. Madara followed him out, tugging on his gloves and bidding him a brief farewell as he made for his bike. Tobirama just waved as he got on his bus, pausing for half of a second as the entirety of the vehicle’s passengers were either staring at him or through the windows at Madara. Glancing around warily, Tobirama made his way to the back of the bus, taking the empty seat he usually sat in.
Ino Yamanaka and Sakura Haruno immediately turned around in their shared seat to look at him. Tobirama blanched under their scrutiny.
“What?” he finally asked when it looked like they weren’t about to explain.
“Who’s that guy?” Ino asked, gesturing out the back window as the bus pulled away from his house. Tobirama glanced back to see Madara taking off in the other direction. He thought for a moment, then shrugged, turning back.
“What’s it to you?” he asked.
“Is he your boyfriend or your brother’s?” Sakura asked, keeping her voice low unlike her blonde companion.
“Are you kidding? That guy looked way too cool for a nerd like Tobi,” Ino said with a roll of her eyes. Tobirama gaped.
“Hey—”
“But Hashirama is way too...much, you know?” Sakura countered. “He doesn’t seem like the type to go for such a badass. But I think he’s probably gay.”
“Definitely,” Ino agreed. “But there’s no way either of them are just friends with a hunk like that. What’s his name?” Tobirama rolled his eyes.
“None of your business.”
“Come oooon,” they pleaded in unison. Tobirama made a face, leaning back in his seat.
“His name is Madara Uchiha,” said a voice from across the aisle. All three turned to look at the owner: a young man with long hair, which often got him mistaken for a girl. Tobirama recognized him as Haku, having shared a few classes with him in the past.
“How do you know?” Sakura asked, leaning around Ino.
“What else do you know about him?” Ino urged, leaning forward. Haku glanced up and smiled softly.
“He’s...a friend of a friend, I guess you could say,” he said. He claimed not to know much more than that, disappointing the two gossip leeches. Tobirama blinked at the boy from his seat, wondering just what Haku’s connection to Madara was.
Chapter 4 - The Basketball Game
Since his roommate was such a terrible, awful, horrible person who couldn’t keep one (1) measly promise to go to one (1) basketball game because he was too busy boning other guys, Yagura humbly took it upon himself to be Saburo’s moral support at the game because he, unlike his terrible, awful, horrible roommate, was an amazing, awesome, wonderful person who had no trouble accompanying a hot friend to his basketball game to watch said hot friend get sweaty and jump around with a bunch of other hot guys while they juggled a big ball with a whole other team of hot guys.
Yagura knew nothing about basketball, but he decided he liked it.
The blond sat in the front row of the upper section of the gymnasium, cheering on his school’s team (but mainly Saburo) long after they had fallen behind in the scores. Never let it be said that Yagura was not supportive. He pointedly ignored the dirty looks he received for his cheers which bordered on incoherent screeches as he waved around a colourful, last-minute sign that he had made all by himself. He was no artist, but he was pretty proud of it. He was at least able to stay inside the lines.
The seconds were counting down now, and the audience was tense. The university’s team had been able to climb back up to match the other team’s score, but the other team was currently wiping the floor with their asses for that deciding point. Saburo was lagging behind the rest of his team, sweat dripping off his chin and chest heaving. Despite how utterly sexy he looked, Yagura was not about to let all his effort go to waste.
Standing from his seat, Yagura threw down his sign and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Go, Saburo! Drag their asses through the mud! Show them Philly Uni’s Star Athlete!”
He gripped the railing in front of him then, teeth bared in a wide grin as every player on the court looked up at him. His eyes were focused purely on Saburo, wide in their intensity and shining with plucky ferocity. The game picked up again without missing a beat, but Saburo stared at him a moment longer as his gaping lips stretched into a wide smile to match Yagura’s. He threw the blond a thumbs-up as he dove back into the game, invigorated by Yagura’s flagrant disregard for common decency.
Saburo was the one to score the winning point. Yagura threw both hands in the air and all but screamed Saburo’s name, hopping up and down as the rest of the crowd jumped up and cheered.
That ass is mine tonight, Yagura thought victoriously. In reality, it was the other way around, but who cared about the details?
Chapter 4 - Orochimaru’s Debut
After parting ways with Madara and Tobirama, Orochimaru slinked back into the club crowd, swaying his way through the sweaty masses. He needed another drink. The bartender was glad to supply him free of charge, due to Orochimaru’s unwavering dependability in delivering the man’s drugs in a timely manner and without any dirty tricks.
Slipping onto a stool at the bar, he ordered a Sex on the Beach cocktail, resting his chin on his palm as he waited. His eyes scanned the crowd, both in search and on the look-out. The last thing he needed was—
“Orochimaru,” purred a sultry, gravely voice from behind. Orochimaru didn’t jump, barely showed any sign of acknowledgement at all save for his lengthy sigh. The owner of the voice claimed the chair to his right, placing himself outside of Orochimaru’s vision. “I thought I would find you here. A sly fox like you is bound to—”
“Jiraiya,” Orochimaru said, cutting off the other as he straightened his posture and turned to regard the man fully. “Why are you here?” he asked, expression betraying his less-than-joyous response to finding his fuckbuddy in the same club as he.
Jiraiya leaned back against the bar on his elbows, offering a carefree grin. “What? I’m not allowed to enjoy myself at a decent club once in a while?” he asked. Orochimaru blinked slowly.
“The only kind of club you enjoy is the kind with half-naked women molesting a pole.” He turned back to the bartender when his drink was handed to him, picking it up to suck on the straw.
“That’s not true,” Jiraiya defended. “I like the ones with men, too.” Orochimaru rolled his eyes.
“Of course. How could I have forgotten?” He didn’t look away from his drink, praying to whatever unholy deity that would have mercy on him to be left alone.
“You know, you wouldn’t look half-bad on one of those poles yourself,” Jiraiya persisted, turning to lean on only one arm as he inched closer to Orochimaru. “I’d pay good money to see that.”
Orochimaru glanced over at the man finally, looking him up and down as if in consideration. Then he caught himself and turned away. “Not happening.” Jiraiya made a noise of complaint.
“Not even if I promised to let you give me a lap dance?” he asked, tone pleading. Orochimaru pointedly focused on his drink, avidly sucking down its contents. “Not even if I tied you up with that skimpy little black number I know you’re wearing?”
Orochimaru choked, briefly drawing the attention of the bartender, but he waved him off. He coughed into his elbow as he glanced back at Jiraiya, genuinely shocked. “How do you know about that?” he demanded.
Jiraiya grinned, reaching out to curl a finger under Orochimaru’s chin once he had recovered. “Because I know you, Orochimaru. And I know you don’t close your bedroom window when you change.” The barest hint of red tinted Orochimaru’s cheeks. So the bastard had caught on to that after all, had he?
“And just what do you plan to do about it?” he challenged. Jiraiya hummed, sliding off his stool and gently tugging Orochimaru to stand as well as he brought their bodies flush together.
“I think I’ll start by telling you just how sexy you’d look without all those clothes,” he said, hand trailing down the column of Orochimaru’s neck. “And then I’ll ask you to dance with me so I can show you all the things you want me to do to you.” His hand snaked around Orochimaru’s waist then, pulling their hips together. Orochimaru licked his lips.
“You make a tempting offer,” he said, eyes flicking briefly to Jiraiya’s lips. The man chuckled.
“So how about it? Do you wanna be my pretty lady for tonight?” Orochimaru smirked.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Chapter 4 - Hashirama’s Dogs (flashback)
Hashirama counted each of the dogs as he attached leashes to all of their collars. Ensuring that all ten were present, he smiled and gathered the handles in his hands, turning to lead his little pack out of his backyard.
“Try not to let them run off with you,” Tobirama called from his bedroom window. Hashirama smiled up at him.
“Don’t worry! They’re all very obediENT—”
He was cut off as two of the larger ones took off after a passing car, inciting the rest of them to follow after. Tobirama shook his head as he watched Hashirama get dragged helplessly along.
“Wait wait wait! You guys can’t just go chasing after cars!” Hashirama pleaded, tugging on the leashes to little avail. They managed to drag him halfway down the next block before they finally relented their pursuit. Hashirama breathed a sigh of relief, just doing his best to keep them all on the sidewalk and off the street.
“You look like you’ve got your hands full,” came a voice from a house they were passing. Hashirama looked up to see a cute redhead sitting on the bench swing of her porch, fan in hand. He smiled sheepishly, jerking slightly with a tug from one of the dogs.
“They need to be walked somehow,” he said, jerking forward again. The girl smiled back at him and stood, green sundress flowing in the light breeze as she deposited her fan on the bench and descended the steps of her porch.
“Let me help you,” she offered as she approached. “I’m rather good with dogs. Are they all yours?” Hashirama floundered, trying to tell her it was really okay, but she took five of the ten leashes from him without paying any mind to his protests.
“I—uhh, n-no, they’re not,” he said, chuckling a little as they started walking together. “They’re all strays I’ve found. I couldn’t bear to let them roam around eating garbage, so I took them in.”
“How kind of you,” the girl said. “Obviously, the people around here don’t mind their dogs very much. I recognize some of these. They’ve been wandering from neighbourhood to neighbourhood for some time now.” Hashirama frowned.
“That’s horrible! What’s the point of getting a dog if you don’t take care of it?” he said, reaching down to pet a small sheepdog fondly. “If I could keep up with them all the time, I’d keep them all.” The girl chuckled lightly.
“I take it you like dogs then?” she asked; he beamed.
“Of course! They’re so fuzzy and friendly and fun to play with,” he said. “My brother could stand to learn a thing or two from them.”
“Your brother?”
“Tobirama,” Hashirama said without thinking. Then he blinked. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Hashirama Senju.” He held out his free hand, and she took it with her own.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mito Uzumaki,” she said. Hashirama smiled.
“That’s a lovely name. And, uh, thank you for this, really,” he said, gesturing to the leashes with another sheepish laugh. “They can get a bit rowdy sometimes.”
“It’s not a problem,” Mito said. “If you’d like, I can take you to the local shelter. I believe they had extra room the last time I was there.”
“Really?” Hashirama’s entire face lit up. “That’d be great! I’d love it if these guys could find better homes.” Mito nodded.
“It’s a fine shelter. It treats its animals well,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll be able to find good, loving families for these dogs.”
Hashirama studied the girl’s face for a moment, caught by the way she gazed so adoringly at the dogs, yet with a polite refinement to her expression that Hashirama lacked in favour of showcasing his emotions without restraint. She glanced up to meet his eyes then, and he looked away bashfully, stuttering out some half-apology for staring.
“...You attend Philadelphia University, don’t you?” she asked after a few seconds. Hashirama glanced back and nodded. “I believe I’ve seen you around once or twice. You go out to the garden with that agriculture class, don’t you?”
“That’s right.” Hashirama blinked. “Actually, I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in International Relations, right?” Mito nodded.
“I am. I can see the garden perfectly from there,” she said. Hashirama returned the smile.
“What lunch do you have? We could meet up sometime,” he offered before he could give it a second thought. Mito smiled.
“I would like that very much.”
Chapter 5 - The Football Game
Luckily for Hashirama and Madara, the Abraham Lincoln mascot was just as poorly made and embarrassing as they had hoped. Madara nearly pissed himself laughing as the coach had to keep lecturing Tobirama into making himself useful (i.e. waving around a banner and striking all sorts of hilarious poses). The two men made certain that the entire audience knew Tobirama’s name, their attention solely focused on cheering on the Senju rather than the football team. They ended up getting a few others into doing the same, and before long their whole section of the bleachers was clapping in sync for what must have been a fuming Tobirama under that bulbous top hat. Tobirama made sure to give them several earfuls about it on the drive back.
Chapter 5 - The Basketball Game (Disambiguation)
As promised (again), Madara attended Saburo’s next basketball game, accompanied by an overzealous Yagura and the Senju brothers. Without the choice distraction of a fumbling mascot to tease and torment, Madara was able to focus on the game itself and found that he understood the technicalities more through practical application. Saburo dominated the court, seemingly spurred on by Yagura’s excessive cheering, and just as well.
Madara couldn’t resist asking his roommate if he screamed that loud for Saburo in bed, only to receive a hard pinch to the underarm. He promptly demanded to switch places with Hashirama.
Overall, Madara deemed basketball more entertaining than football, finding himself so wrapped up in the game that when Saburo scored the winning point, he stood alongside the rest of the crowd to cheer. Saburo looked surprised from where he craned his neck on the court, but it quickly gave way to a wide grin and a sheepish wave that Madara felt no harm in returning. Tobirama elbowed him lightly without looking at him, and Madara quirked a brow and elbowed him back. This quickly dissolved into an aggressive battle for space that Hashirama had to break up.
(Yagura had already taken off to meet up with Saburo.)
Chapter 5 - The Skatepark
After learning of its existence, Tobirama made a point of telling Hashirama of the FDR Skatepark as soon as he got the chance.
“You have to,” he pleaded, following Hashirama around the house as he collected laundry.
“Oh, come on, Tobirama,” Hashirama said. “It’s been years. I’ll probably just hurt myself.”
“But you have to,” Tobirama argued. “Those punks won’t know what hit them. Come on, please? Look, I’m asking nicely.”
The brunet looked at his brother helplessly, shoulders slumping.
“Why do you want me to so badly? You were never this interested before,” he pointed out, carrying two full hampers under either arm to the laundry room.
“I always thought it was cool,” Tobirama said. “But I never got to see you do it a lot. Now’s the perfect opportunity.” Hashirama sighed.
“You won’t take no for an answer will you?” he asked. Tobirama grinned.
“Nope.”
At the skatepark, there were already several other skaters going about their business, and Hashirama hesitated at the edge of the pool section.
“Actually, I think I’m way okay not doing this. Let’s go back—”
“Not a chance,” Tobirama said, securing a vice grip on his brother’s arm and pulling him back into place. “You can’t walk away now. You want these pansies to think you’re weak?” He didn’t make an effort to keep his voice down, predictably grabbing the attention of some of the nearby skaters. Hashirama cowered under the unwanted attention.
“Tobirama,” he hissed. “You can’t say those things! Especially not around these kinds of people! Do you want to start a fight?”
“Hey!” someone called from atop a short ramp in the pool. Both brothers turned to look at them. “This place ain’t for loiterin’, so why don’t you an’ Snowflake go to the ice cream parlor instead?” The taunts elicited a few bouts of laughter from those around them. Hashirama’s eyebrow twitched.
“Yeah, ain’t no place for pussies. Ya gotta be tough shit to handle this terrain,” said another. “Don’t wanna ruin your pretty boy hair!” This one rolled right up to the edge before them, hitching the tip of his skateboard on the lip and puckering his lips just inches from Hashirama’s face before dropping back down into the pool with a chorus of cackles.
By the time he turned back, Hashirama was hot on his trail, his own skateboard rolling ferociously beneath him as he rapidly closed the distance between himself and his antagonist. The boy fumbled in shock and scrambled to pick up speed, eventually darting to the side to avoid the upcoming wall. Hashirama rolled right along it, perching on the edge just as the other had as he looked down at the occupants of the skating pool with a dark expression.
“Do not call my baby brother a snowflake,” he growled before dropping back into the pool to assert his skill and antagonize his opponents.
Tobirama didn’t even care about being called a snowflake, nor that Hashirama had referred to him as his “baby brother” in front of a bunch of adrenaline junkies. He just crossed his arms and grinned as he watched Hashirama pull off some of the sickest stunts he’d ever seen.
Chapter 7 - Ancestry
After they had settled in for the night in their new house, Tobirama recalled a particular part of their conversation on the back deck earlier.
“Hey,” he started, grabbing Madara’s attention on the other side of the couch with a poke to his leg. “You mentioned your uncle earlier, didn’t you?”
Madara blinked. “Yes, Uncle Indra. Why?” Tobirama squinted.
“That name sounds familiar. What’s the last?” he asked, getting up to go sit in front of the computer as he logged into his scarcely used Facebook.
“Otsutsuki,” Madara replied, following him leisurely. “What’s wrong?” Tobirama clicked his tongue.
“I knew it. He has another brother, right? Besides your dad?” Madara nodded slowly, eyes glancing over the computer screen as Tobirama pulled up the list of relatives on Hashirama’s page (he had never bothered to add any besides Hashirama on his own). Sure enough, that surname was listed there by an “Asura”. Tobirama’s Uncle Asura.
“Absolutely not,” Madara said quickly, pulling the keyboard from Tobirama’s hands to flit his fingers over the keys. He pulled up Indra’s page, which lacked much content at all, but there was a familiar relative listed there, too.
“That’s my grandfather.”
“Don’t say that,” Madara all but pleaded. “This has to be a mistake.” However, both Indra’s and Asura’s profiles were listed on Hagoromo’s page, along with a variety of others. Both pairs of eyes read on with growing confusion as they recognized various of their relatives. Madara’s grandmother was listed there, but not his other grandfather, and yet—
Wait. His other grandfather. His other grandfather!
Madara let out a big sigh of relief, drawing his lover’s attention.
“What?”
“We are not related,” Madara confirmed. With a less frantic pace, Madara clicked on his grandmother’s page and navigated to a picture he knew all too well. It featured her and her husband with a young Tajima between them, looking just as grumpy as Madara remembered him to be, even in the latter years of his life. Madara pointed to his grandfather. “I’m related to him,” he stated. “Not Hagoromo.” His declaration could not be disputed; the resemblance was too obvious. Upon further inspection, however, they ascertained the similarities between the Senju brothers and their grandfather, as well.
Eventually, they were able to draw out a makeshift family tree after an overdue call to Madara’s grandmother, who lived alone back in Japan now. After much foreign lecturing on how he should call more often, she ascertained that Hagoromo was not Madara’s blood relative and that Indra was, for lack of a better term, a bastard child. It was no wonder the man had been so estranged from their family and why he hadn’t ever bothered to show himself until Madara’s parents died. They learned that Hagoromo had later married the woman who gave birth to Asura, and then Butsuma, Tobirama’s father.
Madara and Tobirama rested easy. What a scare, though…