Jay

Madara flicked the ash of his cigarette, and took a long pull.

"Venishmartem meod lenafshoteichem - the Torah forbids a jew from taking any action putting themselves in danger. And regardless of your personal beliefs, I don't think the rabbi appreciates you breaking halacha while on yeshiva grounds, at the very least," Tobirama commented snidely—appearing from nowhere like an apparition behind Madara's shoulder—wrinkling his nose.

Madara glanced behind himself, where the other boy loomed, arms crossed over his chest. Well, hello to you, too. "Hagoromo doesn't like a lot of things," he dismissed, suppressing a smile at Tobirama’s upset at his intentional lack of any honorifics. "We have a deal. I get to keep my hair and smokes and stay out of juvie, and he gets another little Jew-boy to pester— everything he could ever want."

Tobirama appraised Madara like he was a stain on his shoe. "I was wondering why you never caught any slack for that bird’s nest on your head," he said flatly. While there wasn’t any official ban on long hair, even the least religious students would cut their hair to a length the rabbis would look on more favorably within a few weeks of coming to the yeshiva. Tobirama’s own hair was of course as short as was the standard—and white, as an albino's was wont to be. Hagoromo would often talk about his hair in connection to Elazar ben Azarya’s words, especially when Tobirama had asked a particularly clever or well researched question in class.

Madara's eyes returned to the sidewalk, watching pedestrians walk to and fro in the evening sun. Punching Tobirama would do him no good.

_____

"But, Rabbi Hagoromo," Tobirama voiced, raising his hand, and Madara covered his eyes, barely stifling a groan. “If the case of a Rebellious Son can never actually occur, why would it be listed in the Torah to begin with?”

Madara respected Hagoromo, he really did, but in the face of such idiocy he couldn't help himself but cut in out of turn. "Ben Sorer U’Moreh lo haia velo-"

"Your Hebrew is abysmal," Tobirama muttered.

Madara ignored him. "A Rebellious Son has never happened, and never will happen. So why was it said? So that you may learn it and be rewarded."

"I'm aware of the contents of the Sugia we are learning, Uchiha."

"Then you're aware," Madara sneered, "That the whole point of this case is to be learned and not to be practiced."

Tobirama scowled. "Why include things in the Torah that don't apply to the life of a jew, then? Is the Torah not meant to guide a jew in life?"

"Then why don’t we throw away all the stories of the history of our people, too, if the only thing that matters is the rules?" Madara snapped.

"Of course you wouldn’t understand the importance of Halacha."

“That doesn’t even refute my -”

"Boys!" Hagoromo clapped his hands together.

"Ugh." The two groaned in unison, then froze, and glared at each other.

_____

"Mm."

"Quiet, Senju, or do you want the entire yeshiva knowing?"

Tobirama screwed his eyes shut, stuffing his fist in his mouth. He was pressed against the stall, pants rucked to his ankles, palm flattened against the wall. His cock was in Madara's hand, and Madara loomed inches from him, murmuring into the crook of his neck as he fisted Tobirama's dick between their bodies, sliding quick pressure along its length.

"Th-this is wrong," Tobirama stammered, and wasn't that a lovely sound, from a boy who was normally so self-assured, so quick-witted and sliver-tongued.

"Who's the torah buff, now?" Madara replied under his breath. "You know that pasuk was written about men and boys, in the context of the apostles reaching Greece."

"That's—ah—Christianity," Tobirama said, and his voice took on a higher pitch than usual, something close to a whine.

"Well if you believe you're going to hell, stop me."

"That's also Christianity."

Madara gripped Tobirama's chin. "Shut up." And he kissed him, sliding hot, wanting mouths together.