Chapter Text
Tobirama has been so engrossed with his spreadsheets and graphs he barely registered any noise coming from the hall. ‘Hey honey, I’m home!’ Madara sing-sung cheerfully, though it was noticeable from his voice he was tired. Tobirama made a vague noise of acknowledgement, focused on correctly processing the data Giselle sent him. They agreed he would return fully to work the upcoming week. He was beginning to feel a little caged and disconnected from reality and that never did anything to improve his mental state. Not to mention that he was quite itching to do some real work in the lab instead of typing in the data. He was actually kind of looking forward to returning to work.
A warm palm squeezed his shoulder and a soft kiss was pressed into his temple. ‘Hi. I bought some groceries.’ Madara greeted him properly and sauntered into the kitchen to store his buyings away.
Tobirama waited for him to finish in there and return to the living room. There the Uchiha shimmied out of his suit jacket and plopped down on the couch next to him with a relieved huff. Tobirama put his laptop aside on the coffee table and snuck his arm around his shoulders, allowing Madara to nest against him and rest his head on his shoulder. ‘How was your day, detective?’ He asked, rubbing small circles into Madara’s biceps to help him relax.
‘Dreary.’ The Uchiha groaned. He snuggled a little bit closer and propped his feet on the table to make himself more comfortable. ‘Our tech guys identified the fibres and bruise patterns on the victims’ necks. Identical. Some kind of a cheap rope, a pretty common brand unfortunately.’ He rubbed at his eyes tiredly.
‘Hmm. Any more clues as to how to catch your killer?’ Tobirama inquired further. It was definitely classified but the process of following the leads of the case was fascinating and who was he going to tell anyway?
Madara seemed unconcerned to share some more details with him. ‘They left a footprint on the second crime scene but that’s it so far. They made sure to attack in the less fancy parts of the city where CCTV and security cameras are sparse.’ He frowned.
Tobirama wrapped a strand of his black hair around his index finger. Silky. He really liked the shade and length of it. ‘It must be frustrating, huh?’ He denoted. He hated when he just couldn’t crack a problem.
‘Yeah. It bothers me that they will probably attack more people and we have very little to go by and prevent it.’ Madara crossed his arms, scowling at nothing in particular.
‘Isn’t there any way to warn the citizens?’ Tobirama wondered. If a serial killer was prowling about, people should probably know to be on alert.
‘Well, the captain doesn’t think so. Or that’s what the lieutenant said. No press conference, no spreading panic and alerting the killer we are onto them.’ Madara grumbled. He obviously disagreed with his superiors but it wasn’t something he could decide on his own.
‘Hmm, that’s too bad. And so far he’s targeting sex workers, right?’ Tobirama bit his lower lip. Targeting lower social class was even more despicable considering they were on the edge of society and less people would even miss them.
‘Uh-huh. Low danger to the general population. What’s one or two dead hookers?’ Madara bit out sarcastically, pretty much sharing his view. ‘Though serge told us on the side he would pass the world around to our short-term undercovers. Nothing specific, just so the girls are on the guard. Who knows, someone might even notice something.’ He shrugged, apparently vexed with the whole situation.
‘That’s something at least.’ Tobirama concluded and they lapsed into thoughtful silence.
‘So what were you doing? Any progress on your data processing?’ Madara decided he would repay the favour and ask about his work in turn.
‘Well, yeah. It went just fine, I actually managed to put most of it into spreadsheets and process it further. I kinda forgot to eat though.’ He scratched behind his ear sheepishly when he was given an unimpressed stare from the Uchiha.
‘So either you can’t focus at all or you focus too much? That’s…’ Madara gestured with his hand vaguely.
‘Inconvenient, yeah.’ Tobirama finished for him with a humourless chuckle. Madara might have said something else on the matter, but the laptop suddenly started ringing.
‘Oh look. Someone’s calling you.’ Madara pointed at the device sprouting out the slightly annoying skype ringtone. ‘Plant_lover420.’ He squinted at the nickname and raised his brows in question.
‘Hmm. That’s Hashirama.’ Tobirama frowned. He wasn’t really in the mood for talking with his brother right now. He texted him from time to time, mainly to let him know he was still alive, but evaded actual calls. Which was most likely the reason Hashirama decided to call him instead.
‘420?’ Madara’s voice took a higher, disbelieving pitch.
Tobirama winced. ‘Kawarama’s immature advice. Hashi has no idea what it means, believe me.’
‘And you do? You, sir, are making me all scandalized.’ Madara shook his head. Tobirama rewarded him with an unimpressed look. A fit of Madara’s giggles mingled with the not stopping ringing. ‘Aren’t you going to pick it up?’ He twisted a little to look him in the eye from a better angle.
‘I don’t feel like…’ Tobirama started but Madara made the decision for him when he reached out for the laptop and accepted the call. ‘Why..? No!’ He yelped and scrambled upright to straighten his back.
‘What’s the matter, can’t we at least say…’ Madara talked over him, scowling for being shoved unceremoniously aside in the process.
‘Hello?’ Hashirama’s confused voice filtered through the speakers as his goofy face filled half of the screen.
Tobirama groaned into his palm, knowing a disaster was imminent. ‘Oh. Hi, anija.’ He peeked at him through the gap between his index and middle finger.
‘Tobi! I thought you were not going to…’ Hashirama started babbling excitedly before his eyes bulged comically and he abruptly stopped mid sentence. ‘Madara?! What are you..? Are you guys..? What?’ Hashirama’s eyes kept flickering from one side to the other, presumably from Tobirama to Madara on his own screen, as he leaned even closer.
‘Geez, back off, idiot. Your ugly mug fills the whole damn screen.’ Madara directed his scowl at the laptop.
Fortunately, Hashirama did lean back slightly but his confusion remained pretty much the same. ‘What are you doing in Tobirama’s? Did you guys finally get in touch? That’s so cool!’ He grinned widely.
‘What do you mean what am I..? He’s in my flat.’ Madara gestured around wildly. Tobirama wished the floor would just open and swallow him on the spot.
‘Oh. But… I’ve been calling Tobi, haven't I?’ Hashirama blinked several times and squinted at his own screen to reassure himself.
‘Yeah, I don’t have skype.’ Madara shook his head. This was getting increasingly ridiculous. He should have stopped him from accepting the call.
‘Is he visiting you?’ Hashirama asked the next logical question and Tobirama seriously contemplated bolting out of the room. Out of the flat. Out of the country.
Madara glanced at him, as if trying to get any comprehension. ‘No? He’s been living here for the past, like, three weeks?’ He said in a voice that insinuated Hashirama was particularly dense.
Hashirama openly gaped for several seconds before he clamped his mouth shut, opened it again with no sound coming out and repeated several times. ‘Anija, I…’ Tobirama decided to step in, only to be interrupted when Hashi finally found his voice.
‘How long has this been going on? Why didn’t either of you tell me you were seeing each other?’ He blurted out, pointing accusatively through the screen.
‘We’ve literally met three weeks ago, when that fire accident happened.’ Madara deadpanned. And the cat was out of the bag.
‘Fire? What fire? What happened?’ Hashirama now looked very alarmed.
The realization finally dawned on Madara - for a detective, it took him quite a while, Tobirama thought wryly - as he slowly turned to him with a thoroughly exasperated glare. ‘You haven’t told him?’ He said in a carefully guarded voice which was still slightly threatening. Tobirama forced himself not to recoil at the tone.
‘Told me what?’ Hashirama demanded.
‘My apartment complex burned down.’ Tobirama barked at the screen irritably.
‘What?’ Hashirama repeated for an umpteenth time. ‘Why haven’t you called?!’ He threw his arms up, working himself up in one of his fretting fits.
‘My question exactly.’ Madara crossed his arms, his brows raised expectantly.
Tobirama ducked his head and shrank into himself. ‘I didn’t want to worry you…’
‘Well, you did now!’ Hashirama exclaimed.
It bothered Tobirama how they were treating him like a child. This was mainly the reason he kept evading the phone call for so long. ‘It’s none of your business.’ He grumbled.
‘I’m your brother! I worry about you all the time! Of course it’s my business!’ Hashirama actually jumped out of his chair and started pacing around his living room.
Madara ran his hand over his face and sighed. ‘Dammit, if I knew you hadn't called him sooner, I’d make you do it.’
‘You as well?’ Tobirama levelled him with a wounded look.
‘Well, I know you and your family aren’t exactly on the best of terms but I thought that Hashirama…’ Madara started explaining calmly but Tobirama just had enough. He couldn’t deal with them both nagging him about his choices. Especially since one barely had enough context and the other continuously chose to overlook it.
He too left his seat on the couch rather abruptly. ‘You know nothing about my family. You shouldn’t have meddled.’ Tobirama thundered, fists curled tightly, before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the living room, shutting himself in his room.
He kept prowling around restlessly for a good while, too agitated to stay still. Why did everyone think they had the right to tell him what to do? He could still hear voices from the living room, meaning Madara continued talking with Hashirama. He didn’t want to know what they were discussing, especially since it most likely involved him. He kicked the first thing he stumbled upon, which happened to be his slipper, and with a frustrated groan, collapsed on his bed.
Damn them both, nosy, annoying… Though they probably meant well. But now Tobirama dreaded what would follow. Hashirama was kind of dense when it came to Tobirama’s relationship with their father. Not that he would hold it against him. Butsuma was an asshole - and now that he was out of their family house and hopefully away from his influence, he could say it freely - but he was never as tough to his other three sons. It was Tobirama who kept getting the worst of Butsuma’s toxic temper and beliefs. Either way, Butsuma would find out what happened sooner or later and Tobirama could only pray he wouldn’t decide to intervene.
He kept pondering about what ifs, working his anxiety up until a tentative knock on his door jerked him back from his musings. ‘Can I come in?’ Madara’s soft voice filtered through the wood. Tobirama sighed. It was pointless to hold a grudge against him since he didn’t know the circumstances. And sulking in his room would get him nowhere. Sooner or later he would have to come out for food.
‘Fine.’ He allowed, bracing himself for some explaining that was probably due.
The Uchiha slipped into the room and padded over to perch on the edge of the bed where Tobirama curled up, his back turned to him stubbornly. ‘I’ve… Uh. Cleared things up with Hashirama.’ He said when the silence prolonged.
‘Did you?’ Tobirama groused none too friendly, instantly regretting his tone.
‘Well I told him the bare minimum. What happened with your old apartment and how you called me and we agreed you would stay.’ He explained patiently, voice tone much softer than his own.
‘So nothing about..?’ Tobirama turned ever so slightly to glance at Madara, who had his hands folded on his lap, as if he didn’t know what to do with them.
‘About whatever’s going on between us?’ He smirked slyly when Tobirama reddened slightly. ‘No. He doesn’t need to know that until we figure it out.’ Madara dared to reach out and put his palm on the nearest reachable part of him, which happened to be his calf.
‘I’m sorry I just kind of assumed you would like to actually talk with your brother. I really know nothing. Do you wanna talk about it?’ Madara inclined his head hesitantly, fumbling with the hem of his shirt he pulled out of his pants. He hasn't even changed yet.
Tobirama sighed and sat up, hugging his knees. ‘No.’ He answered truthfully. It was hard to put it all into suitable words, even when he talked about it with his therapist during their sessions. Madara hung his head and nodded, ready to leave him be, but before he could lift himself up, Tobirama’s hand shot up to grab him around his arm. ‘But you deserve to know anyway.’
Madara’s eyes widened for a second before he shook his head vehemently. ‘It’s not something I can somehow deserve, you don’t owe me any explanations.’
‘I do. Anyhow, I want you to know.’ Tobirama cut him off. He had already made a decision to trust the man and it was only fair to give him the full picture since he was coming into their relationship with quite a substantial emotional baggage.
‘If you’re sure?’ Madara somehow managed to look relieved and tense at the same time. Tobirama would expect something like that from himself, not from the mostly unfazed Uchiha.
Tobirama took a deep breath to steady himself. ‘I am.’ It still came out shaky. But where to begin? ‘My father…’ He started and hesitated how to proceed.
‘Is a dick, I’ve gathered.’ Madara finished for him dryly. As perceptive as he was, he probably already put some pieces together.
‘Pretty much, yeah.’ Tobirama smiled ruefully. ‘When I was born… Well.’ He ran his fingers through his messy hair. ‘All this wasn’t really fulfilling the expectations.’ He gestured vaguely at his face, trying to encompass his whole unusual appearance.
Madara rolled his eyes. ‘Is he blind as well?’
Tobirama ducked his head to compose himself. It was flattering, really. ‘Erm, not everyone finds people with pigment deficiency as visually pleasant.’ He pointed out. He was getting weird looks or even unsolicited comments all the time.
Madara just huffed in response, expressing clearly what he thought about such people. ‘Anyway, I still count myself lucky that I’m negative for nystagmus and other visual disorders. I’m weird enough without eye ticks.’ He smirked. Self-deprecating jokes were his favourite. Madara tsked disapprovingly.
‘When we were still small, in kindergarten, he paid us little attention. Mum had Kawarama and Itama after me and so he worked relentlessly to provide. At least mum always said something like that when we asked about our absent daddy.’ Luckily, he didn’t remember that much from that time.
‘Then Hashirama started elementary school and so did I three years later. The differences were starting to get really noticeable. Hashi was a lively kid, unbothered and friendly. Father signed him up for the baseball team, which he picked up quickly. Me? Not so much. I was an outsider in every possible way. Kids picked on me because I was odd, though I wasn’t stupid, my studying results were abysmal, I’ve been constantly in trouble with teachers because of the ADHD, at that time still undiagnosed. My only friends were my younger brothers who still clung to me while Hashi was running after you. When father forced me to try baseball as well, I just didn’t fit in with the team.’ He started recounting. It was surprisingly easier to narrate his crappy life story than he thought it would.
Madara shuffled closer and took his hand to entwine their fingers, pressing his lips together in what was probably a supportive grimace. Tobirama was just glad he wasn’t interrupting. ‘So baseball didn’t work out for me but we did discover that I was a pretty fast runner. Father chose athletics after that, which proved to have much better results as I didn’t have to endure the pressure of others relying on my performance. In the end, the trainer suggested I should focus on short track running. Since running from all of my problems was something I always excelled in, it was quite logical.’ He chuckled sadly.
‘I’ve been wondering if you ever did some sports. You have very nice legs. And that juicy ass…’ Madara grinned and winked. Tobirama shook his head and shoved him lightly but his grin was quite infectious.
‘Creep. Anyway, once father saw potential in me, he decided that I would be a sprinter and I would be winning competitions no matter what, since I was a failure in every other way. In junior high, one of the teachers finally recognized I might have some form of attention disorder and suggested my parents might want to take me to a doctor for a diagnostic evaluation. Even though father was deeply offended and almost had the teacher fired, mum took the advice and brought me to see a psychiatrist. I got treatment and meds and voilá! I’ve finally been able to focus and sit still for a while and the improvement was just... Suddenly I wasn’t one of the worst students any more. All seemed great.’
‘What happened then?’ Madara glanced at him, sensing there was another breakpoint coming in the narration.
‘Mum died. Breast cancer. The aggressive type.’ He said simply, the words lodging at the back of his throat. It had been more than a decade and the edges were still sharp, the pain still raw.
Madara squeezed his hand. ‘I thought so since Hashirama mentioned she wasn’t around anymore. I’m sorry for your loss.’ He looked at him, his expression full of compassion and sincerity.
Tobirama squeezed back to thank him. ‘It was so fast. A few months and she was gone but first we got to witness how quickly she withered. Rounds of chemotherapy did nothing and when it spread to lungs, it was just the end.’ He sniffed, holding back tears. He had a ton of fond memories of his mum but thinking about her last months always awakened unquenchable sadness in him.
Madara moved across the bed to hug him. ‘Goodness.’ He breathed out when he had him snuggled against himself. ‘How old were you?’
‘Fourteen.’ Tobirama whispered, face buried in the nook of his neck. Madara just held him tighter, scraping his nails through his hair gently, providing a soothing distraction from the heavy pressure Tobirama felt in his chest. After a while, Madara moved them around a bit so that they were lying on the bed. It took quite a bit of time to compose himself and find his voice again. ‘It all went to hell after that. Father started drinking. Hashi left for college before he really started to get aggressive during his drunken episodes. Kawa and Itama were so vulnerable, I couldn’t just let him ruin them too!’ He cried out in frustration as memories of all those beatings flooded his mind, fists tangled into the fabric of Madara’s shirt, crinkling it terribly.
‘It wasn’t fair.’ He hiccuped, feeling the tears flowing freely now. ‘It wasn’t fair.’
Madara kissed his forehead tenderly. ‘No, it really wasn’t.’ He agreed.
Tobirama felt utterly drained but he had to say the rest. ‘Hashi restored some order once he graduated from college. Took over the family business, which was in shambles. Convinced, or more or less forced, father to go to rehab. I got a sports stipend and went to college too, confident I could leave Kawa and Itama in Hashirama’s care. At last, I felt like I could breathe freely. I got interested in neurobiology and it just clicked. I’ve met some new people, found some friends. My running career was so good that the coach signed me up to qualify for the damn Olympics. Until I injured my knee.’
‘Oh honey. Did anything ever work out for you?’ Madara groaned with a mixture of pity and sympathy lining his voice.
‘A just question. Not really.’ Tobirama replied colourlessly. He was kind of used to nothing working out in his favour.
‘So you’ve missed the Olympics?’ Madara came to a logical conclusion.
He heaved a tired sigh. ‘Yeah, I couldn’t qualify with a ruptured ACL.’
‘That’s rough man. You could have been the next Usain Bolt.’ Madara gestured with his free hand, the one that wasn’t cradling him closer and caressing him up and down along the spine.
Tobirama actually chuckled. ‘I don’t think I was on his level.’ Bolt was definitely someone to aspire to but he had a league of his own.
‘You never know.’ Madara shrugged. ‘So how come you didn’t just bounce back? Did it not heal properly?’
Tobirama frowned involuntarily. ‘Well for starters, it happened in my last year of college and before I recovered fully, I graduated. Hashirama insisted I should return home, that I was needed here, so I did. It turned out that while my knee could have been mended, the relationship with my father was just beyond repair. He wouldn’t stop blaming me for messing up my leg and missing the Olympics, the one thing that would make me at least a little worthy in his eyes - and I quote here. As if I injured myself on purpose.’ He gritted through his teeth. The bitterness and injustice of it all was still something he hasn’t fully overcome.
‘That’s horrible! My dad isn’t perfect by any means but yours is on a whole other level of douchery.’ Madara too seemed enraged just by hearing the very shortened version of what he had to endure for years.
‘Mhm. We can agree on that. Anyway, I’ve just lost any interest in competing, partially out of petty defiance. I’ve stayed around long enough to see Kawa graduate and find a job and Itama going to med school. The final nail to the coffin was when he found out I was gay. He threatened to disown me unless I underwent some treatment that would set me right . Needless to say, I left for good after that. Moved here, found a new job, got my apartment burned down and then I met you again.’ Tobirama completed his little tragic story. He felt exhausted to the bone from pouring his heart out and reliving all those horrendous moments of his past but simultaneously, it felt astonishingly good to get it off his chest. Purifying even.
‘Despite anything, I’m glad you ended up here.’ Madara kissed his temple. ‘But if I ever meet that fucking prick, that disgraceful poor excuse of a father you have, I’ll smash his nose into his skull.’ He growled viciously. His protectiveness stirred something funny at the pit of Tobirama’s stomach.
‘That’s very nice of you, considering how violent that would be.’ He smiled genuinely. Madara smiled back. Brightly, affectionately and… ‘Wow.’ The little sigh of wonder escaped out of his mouth entirely on its own. He ducked his head when he realized he said it out loud.
‘What?’ Madara’s brows furrowed uncomprehendingly.
‘Nothing. I just had a thought that…’ He trailed off, unsure if he wasn’t just being ridiculous.
‘Hmm?’ He was prompted gently.
Tobirama swallowed thickly the bile of nervosity that crept up his throat. ‘Well that I might have finally found a bit of luck in all of this misfortune.’ He admitted quietly, unable to meet Madara’s eyes out of fear that he wouldn’t see in them what he desperately wanted to.
Wordlessly, Madara tugged him even closer until they were pressed tightly against each other, their limbs entwined. The dreadful feeling that he might have gotten in all wrong started slowly dissipating and he allowed himself to melt into the embrace, wanting to phase into him and become one. ‘I can’t guarantee nothing bad will ever happen to you again. That is, regretfully, something out of my power. But I can promise you one thing.’ Madara softly murmured into his hair.
That feeling of pressure in his chest returned, this time not unpleasant but hopeful, full of nervous anticipation. ‘Yeah? What would that be?’ He heard himself rasp, unable to voice his question with more insistence.
Madara leaned his head back slightly, looking at him with such open adoration, so full of kindness. ‘That no matter what, I’ll be right there, by your side, if you allow me.’ He said with indisputable honesty that unleashed something quite visceral in Tobirama’s brimming chest. With a shuddering inhale, he buried his face in the sea of Madara’s soft hair, willing the tears that threatened to spill once more to hold. To think that after all he said about himself, baring his broken soul, Madara would still want him around… The whirlwind of emotions was quite hard to withstand and he found himself overwhelmed by gratitude and joy of finally being accepted by someone for what he really was, despite it really not being anything too special. On the contrary, he was just, for the lack of better description, a hot mess.
Fortunately, the other man didn’t seem to expect any kind of coherent response to his promise. They were just lying there and cuddling for god knows how long, until Tobirama finally calmed down a bit. They just enjoyed each other’s presence and it was enough. The comfortable silence was, however, abruptly interrupted when Tobirama’s churning stomach loudly reminded him he, in fact, skipped lunch and it was quite late for dinner also.
Madara just chuckled good-naturedly. ‘Food?’
‘That might be a sensible idea.’ He nodded with a bashful smile.
‘Takeout? I don’t feel like cooking.’ Madara stretched and fished his phone from the back pocket of his trousers to open the food delivery app.
‘Thai would be nice?’ Tobirama ventured hopefully.
‘Your wish is my command.’ Madara flashed him one of his achingly nice grins and so he, smiling to himself, let him pick whatever he thought he would appreciate. He just trusted him like that.