why are you being so nice to me, tobirama asks, voice drowsy with the satisfied exhaustion of the well-fucked, but it’s not quite enough to chase the sleepily suspicious furrow in his brow.
madara snorts, running one of his hands along tobirama’s side, allowing his thumb to drag across tobirama’s skin. his roommate is too sleepy to do much more than hum, not a lick of real protest coming from him. madara’s not delusional. he knows tobirama might have different priorities if he were more awake right now, but. madara’s never claimed to be a selfless person. if tobirama is not going to stop him, then madara is going to take that as permission to keep tracing the lines and contours of his body, mapping the dips and ridges of tobirama’s torso.
do you want me to be mean to you? madara asks, amused. i can do that.
tobirama harrumphs. that’s - yawn - not what i mean, and you know it, he says, sighs. he cracks open one eye and shoots madara a baleful look. asshole, he mumbles, but it’s soft, fucked-out, drowsy.
you’ll have to explain what you mean then, madara says, because – just because his fingers are itching to touch tobirama, grab him, rest a heavy hand on his hip like an anchor or a brand… just because all that’s true, it doesn’t mean he’s going to be nice about it, fuck you.
whatever, tobirama says, huffs. leans back, flops his head fully onto his pillow, the slope of his neck on display. (madara swallows.) i don’t care. ‘m going to sleep.
madara says, oh, very softly. he doesn’t really want to leave, doesn’t want to stop touching tobirama, but he’s done this enough times. he doesn’t like it when other people outstay their welcome, so—
tobirama snorts. i can hear you thinking from here, he complains, which is rich as hell coming from him. you took off your sheets, genius. just stay here.
just stay here, he says, so easily, and madara – swallows, again, hand resting heavy on tobirama’s hip.
he doesn’t ask if tobirama’s sure, because he doesn’t want to give him the option to back out. he just presses in tighter, possessively, over tobirama’s hip, then slinks in closer, tugging tobirama into him. tobirama grumbles, but doesn’t voice any articulate protest, so madara ignores his fussing.
if you get hard overnight, i’m burning your clothes in the morning, tobirama threatens into the line of madara’s throat, words slurring.
madara laughs, leaning down to drag a possessive kiss through tobirama’s hair. you just want to see me naked, he says, then, more wickedly, and if i get hard overnight, you’re going to know a lot quicker than the morning.
tobirama, sleepy but still quick, moves his thigh up to press it punishingly against madara’s dick.
madara likes him so much. terrible personality and all.
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