I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.

[forefather]

Who: Madara and Hashirama.
When: Saturday night until Sunday morning, after this.
Where: Hashirama's room.
Summary: Eighty years of violent sexual tension comes down to this.
Rating: R?
Warnings: Old men. Naked and gay. Post-sex cuddles. Shame and regret.

Comments

[foundingfire]

A hand came up to brush away at one of many unmanageable hairs that were tickling his chin as he left it idle on a slowly rising and falling bare chest. Hashirama was half asleep now as Madara's vigorous 'punishment' had seized. He had been lost in his nostalgia wanting nothing more than to see the good aspects of the past. Despite how much the Senju had grown to despise the Uchiha, it meant nothing during a week of no inhibitions. He was mesmerized by the return of what had once been after so many hopes and promise broken. For once, he felt that longing again, he felt somehow complete

[forefather]

"Did I tire you out, old man?" Madara teased, a wicked grin flashing across his lips as he tilted his head up to look at Hashirama's face. Funny to call Hashirama old now that Madara had outlived him by many, many decades, but in life he had been Madara's senior by several years. Someone he looked up to even when they stood on opposing sides in the battlefield.

Madara, of course, was hardly ever tired. Lazy, yes, but he had the stamina of a beast. To show it off now, he shifted and crept up Hashirama's body, kissing and then biting softly at his partner's collarbone. "Don't go to sleep," he warned, or pleaded. Hashirama might not even be aware, but they had so precious little time left to enjoy this.

[foundingfire]

After the first several hours they spent together, Hashirama had realized just how strong Madara had become. Hours turned into days and the Senju had a limit. It was mildly pride and honor that had kept him so lively and awake during those intervals, but the real reason was his own determination: he had missed adoring the Uchiha. Eighty years had given Madara the upper hand but Hashirama was compelled to have him as many times as he could. He wasn't thinking about the week to come, he was far too young in comparison to his beautifully tragic arch enemy, there was still that rebellious mind living in the moment. It would make it all the more painful when his perfect moment was lost

[forefather]

Madara laughed quietly against Hashirama's skin as those legs caught him. "What are you doing, idiot? One more round is sure to give you a heart attack, and then they'd all accuse me of killing you