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Wednesday, 10:48 AM.
Madara could feel Hashirama starting to stir in his arms so he briefly tightened his hold before sighing softly and relaxing back into the bed once more. He stretched out his right leg and when Hashirama shifted he shifted with him, their legs even more tangled, his nose against Hashirama’s hair and Hashirama’s cheek pressed against his arm. Madara inhaled slowly but deeply and blinked, his lashes catching in the fine strands of Hashirama’s hair. Madara smiled lazily, still mostly asleep, and kissed Hashirama’s head.
Madara stayed there enjoying the way Hashirama’s back expanded with each and every deep breath against his chest and smiling against the other’s hair. He trailed his hand lightly on Hashirama’s side and then up over his belly, stopping for a moment to press his palm flat against his bellybutton piercing, and then trailing up his chest. Madara nuzzled his hair once more, moving onto the other’s neck and ear when Hashirama sighed dreamily and resumed snoring that small snores of his, almost like he was pushing puffs of air out of slightly parted lips. Madara smiled lazily against the tan skin of Hashirama’s neck before kissing the spot softly.
Behind his eyelids the room was painted golden by the sun shining through the curtained windows and the air was tepid and warm even on his back, not covered by the comforter anymore. Madara rolled on his back and blinked at the ceiling for a couple of times savoring the moment of peace before starting with their day; it was their day off, after all. Hashirama had told him he wanted to catch up with some cleaning and Madara couldn’t help but agree since it was obvious their home was a bit messier than usual. Madara reasoned that they could squeeze some grocery shopping in there somewhere, somehow, because, even if their fridge and cupboards were well stocked, they were due to a trip to the market in a couple of days all the same.
Madara yawned loudly and Hashirama rolled on his side to face him blinking sleepily. Madara smiled and then frowned when Hashirama rubbed his mouth and chin on his arm to remove the drool. Hashirama blinked, and immediately his eyes weren’t sleepy anymore, and he smiled lazily before whispering “Morning.” Madara hummed in response and Hashirama just nodded, cheek still squished against his arm, before kissing the same spot and asking “What were you thinking so hard about?”
Madara scratched at his belly and replied a bit roughly “Our day. If we you could fit grocery shopping somehow.” Hashirama groaned and pressed his face in the mattress and Madara snickered quietly at the display before stating “Well, we are out of dishwasher’s soap and softener. And almost out of litter. That’s something I don’t want to be out of. But if you want to take care of those hellspawns like that all by yourself be my guest.” Hashirama whined pitifully and Madara just rolled his eyes.
The door creaked quietly and Madara glanced down at the foot of the bed saying “Speak of the devil.” Their cats jumped on the bed and wriggled their way in between them, purring and meowing, and making an home there under the covers with them. Hashirama cooed wordlessly at them both while Madara scratched under the closer chin. Kurama stretched languidly before flexing his paws and digging his claws in Madara’s side and belly and Madara scowled down at the orange fluffy demon. Matatabi, on the other hand, was rubbing her soft head against Hashirama’s cheek chirping sweetly and Madara asked himself, for the umpteenth time, why was he always the unlucky one.
Madara glanced at the clock on his nightstand table, that sadly already read 11:27 AM in green led, so he turned his head and stated “Ok. Time to get this day started.” before rolling out of the bed and stretching with a satisfied groan. Hashirama followed him, leaving the grey sheets and fluffy covers all rolled together on the bed, and reached for a pair of sweats and one of his oversized hoodie. Hashirama headed for the bathroom asking “Brunch and then chores then?” and Madara followed him outside their bedroom, leaving on the bed two balls of fluff purring loudly.
*
Thursday, 7:13 PM.
Hashirama grunted when Madara pushed him against the door and the handle dug painfully in his back. “Sorry.” Madara mumbled against his neck and Hashirama just pushed the door open hurriedly and walked backwards to the bed dragging Madara along. They tumbled back together, a mess of hair and limbs and lips, and Hashirama just panted against Madara’s mouth arching his back to just get more. He released a soft moan when Madara grounded their hips together and Madara swore, the sound thrumming against the soft skin of his neck.
Hashirama grabbed the other’s biceps, still covered by the leather jacket and hiding all that beautiful and colorful masterpiece that was Madara’s inked skin, and thrusted upward to gain some friction on his erection, deliciously and maddeningly trapped inside his jeans. Madara gripped his hips and squeezed and Hashirama tossed his head back spreading his legs wider; then Madara ran his hands under his t-shirt, bouncing the material upward, and Hashirama wriggled out of the cloth while Madara left a trail of bites from his belly toward his nipples. When the other latched on the left one and sucked hard Hashirama was done. The pressure on his cock from both Madara and his jeans, the way Madara was holding onto his sides, his hot breath on his skin and the damn leather jacket was just too much and Hashirama was coming into his pants like he was teenager, with a breathy moan and trembling hips.
Madara leaned back and stared at him incredulously before whispering “Did you just…” Hashirama fixed his eyes on black ones panting quietly and Madara raised an eyebrow saying “Really.” Hashirama huffed but Madara smirked almost victorious running a finger on his chest and skimming over his pierced nipple once more; Hashirama shivered and the devious grin on Madara’s red lips just widened.
Hashirama smirked back before dragging him down with an hand at the back of his neck and Madara smashed their lips together hungrily, delving deep into his mouth with his tongue and sucking on Hashirama’s tongue piercing. Hashirama locked his legs behind Madara’s back before reversing their positions and draping himself all over his lover; Madara grunted against his ear and Hashirama battled with his jacket to get it off. When he finally succeeded in getting rid of Madara’s t-shirt too Hashirama latched onto every bit of Madara’s inked skin he could reach.
He ran his tongue, pressing down with the ball of his piercing against his skin, from Madara’s bellybutton all the way up his chest to his neck before sucking right behind his ear, on a small and old tattoo of a music note, eliciting a thrilling moan. Madara pushed upwards with his hips right when Hashirama grounded down and both gasped at the sensation, momentarily stalling everything else before getting rid of their remaining clothes in a frenzy.
Hashirama leaned back, still straddling Madara’s thighs, and just looked at his lover stretching in bed, at all that expanse of beautifully inked skin against the soft grey of their comforter; he smiled a dopey smile, and Madara huffed fondly before gently squeezing his hip with an hand and reaching for both their cocks with the other. Hashirama laughed breathlessly before reaching down himself.
*
Friday, 10:48 PM.
Madara shuffled into the bedroom and squeezed his eyes against the assault of the too bright light while messing with the switcher and trying to lower the brightness before closing the curtains halfway and kicking his slippers off somewhere around; he nearly tripped in Matatabi rubbing against his legs and winding herself in his ankles while striding to the bed so he sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair and down his face, a bit exasperated but mostly just tired. Madara tossed his socks and pants to the other side of the room then collapsed backward in bed bouncing once; he groaned quietly to himself and rolled onto his side before properly shuffling under the covers.
He heard Matatabi jump on the bed and quietly walk all over him without a care in the world while purring loudly. Madara sighed and lifted the covers so that she could wriggle her way inside and curl between his legs. Kurama yowled angrily and demandingly from somewhere in the house and Madara sighed out a call for him before listening closely for his approach. The little monster meowed once more, from the door of the bedroom this time, and Madara let his arm dangle from the side of the bed, after having finally turned off the lights, until the cat started rubbing against it demanding attentions.
Madara blindly picked him up, earning an outraged hiss for all his efforts, and put him down on the covers, over his belly. Kurama stood there, licked his fingers only once before none so gently munching on his index and then finally curling in a fluffy ball along his leg. Madara rested one hand over his warm and fluffy body, sighed and closed his eyes to finally get some sleep waiting for Hashirama to come back at the end of his shift; it wouldn’t take much, hopefully.
The room was dark and the only light was coming from the lone lamppost near their window, bathing the room and the bed in a soft glow that eased Madara further into sleep. Kurama was breathing loudly, now stretched across his ankles, and Madara had his face pushed in Hashirama’s pillow, deeply breathing in the scent of detergent and Hashirama’s shampoo; it was flowery and somehow fruity and, strangely, relaxing.
Madara opened one of his eye, not fully awake but not fully asleep either, when Hashirama turned off the light in the bathroom and shuffled in the bedroom, shedding his green scrubs one piece at a time and yawning as quietly as he could. Madara rolled on his side, slightly dislodging Kurama, and held the covers up for Hashirama to get under.
Hashirama yawned again, a jaw breaking and loud yawn, stopping with a knee on the bed to remove his socks and let them fall carelessly on the floor before crawling the rest of the way under the covers; he wriggled around for a moment before tossing a leg over Madara’s and stopping. “I know I stink but I’m too tired to shower.” he whispered through another yawn and Madara just hummed, relaxed, pulling at the other’s shirt to get him closer, not really caring about that small detail when Hashirama was finally back in bed with him. Hashirama came willingly, tangling some more their legs together, and pressed another yawn into the pillow, finally snuggled as close as he could get.
Matatabi wriggled her way out of the bed and curled over their intertwined feet around a still put-upon Kurama. Hashirama rolled to his side, somehow snuggling even closer and pressing their chests together, and nosed against his ear and Madara sighed quietly going boneless and quickly melting against the bed, easing his way back into sleep. Hashirama’s soft snores started filling the room, thrumming right against his skin, and Madara slipped back into sleep still holding Hashirama’s t-shirt in his loose fist.
*
Saturday, 11:59 PM.
The room was completely dark, the curtains were pulled all the way, shielding the light from the lamppost, and for once, it was Madara the one snoring softly. Hashirama jolted awake and blindly flailed his arm to the nightstand table to reach the ringing phone. It wasn’t unusual for one of their phones to go off during the night, what with his job at the hospital and Madara being a detective, so he didn’t panic but just tried to reach for his phone in his state of half consciousness and mild hungover.
Madara, by his side, was doing the same but faring a little worse since he was still more than a little tipsy from their night out with his friends; he was trying to free his arm from the tangle of sheets with little to no success. Hashirama finally gabbed his phone, looked at it with furrowed brows, black screen and no sign of a missed call, and let it drop back on the nightstand with a deep sigh before rolling on his side to face Madara but closing his eyes all the same.
Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, Madara picked up, stopping the loud and annoying sound, and groaned into the phone, pained and irritated; Hashirama could hear a voice coming from the phone but couldn’t pick up the single words that were being said. Madara grunted an affirmative sound and started shuffling in bed and Hashirama blinked a couple of times to actually see what was going on. Madara stood and stumbled for a couple of steps before placing an hand on the wall for support, ending the call and tossing his phone on the bed; it bounced once and promptly fell on the ground. Hashirama snorted, closing his eyes and shaking his head against the pillow, and Madara just groaned, pained, before wobbling out of the room toward the bathroom.
Hashirama rubbed his face on the cool sheets a couple of times, waited for the cats to settle down once more and went back to sleep to the sound of Madara quietly hissing while getting ready and the soft purr of Matatabi, curled in his hair on the pillow. The light from the bathroom painted a long yellow stipe all the way to the wall, almost highlighting the small green potted plants resting on the shelves.
-
Madara strode back into the bedroom, a little more awake and a little less tipsy, and tripped on a forgotten slipper; he glared and hissed under his breath at the item like it was its fault for being there before bending with a suppressed groan to retrieve his phone from the ground and silently walking to the closet to pull a shirt and a new pair of boxer from a drawer.
Hashirama was softly snoring in his pillow and in the quiet and peaceful room Madara could hear the cats’ noises, too. He chanced a glance at the bed and suppressed the urge to snort at the, admittedly endearing, way Hashirama had twisted in his sleep: he was hugging the blankets to his chest, in a strangely childish way, with Matatabi awake and playing with a strand of his hair, licking and munching on it contently, and Kurama draped over his side with his belly up in the air. Even Kurama was snoring, louder than Hashirama in fact, and Madara scrunched up his nose before turning back to his clothes.
Madara hurried to get actually dressed before picking up a post-it note from his nightstand table, scribbling a few words on the pale blue paper and sticking it on Hashirama’s phone. He was looking for his missing shoes when his phone vibrated with an incoming text from the back pocket of his jeans. He glimpsed at the clock, that read 12:31 AM, and swore in his head at his delay.
Madara retrieved one shoe from under the bed and narrowly avoided Matatabi’s paw reaching for his hair when he kneeled by Hashirama’s side of the bed to pick up the other one. He stood stuffing his feet in the newly retrieved sneakers, and leaving the laces undone, and took a couple of steps toward the door; he glanced one last time at the bed, smiling softly to himself, before quickly making his way out of the room and out of their apartment.
*
Sunday, 8:12 AM.
Hashirama woke up when a soft paw kept being insistently pushed against his cheek; he ran his tongue over his teeth and then moistened his lips before squinting one of his eyes, the one not buried into the pillow. The room was still dark but Hashirama could feel the sun shining outside and giving him the energy needed to fully open his eye. He came face to face with Kurama, who gently bit his nose before licking somewhat apologetically the same spot; Hashirama huffed through his nose and the cat meowed loudly and demandingly before turning around, jumping down of the bed and stalking out of the room with his tail up in the air. Hashirama snorted, always amused at the cat’s dramatics, rolled onto his back and lazily stretched his libs one at the time, relishing in the various popping noises his joints made.
He lazed there for a while just staring at the ceiling and enjoying the white noise in his brain before stretching once more and tangling himself further into the covers with childish delight. Hashirama snorted at himself and reached for his phone, picking up the post-it note first, and the device second. Madara’s chicken scratch was actually neater than usual and Hashirama’s eyes widened in wonder and disbelief.
B&E&R – Don’t know when I’ll be back
I’m never gonna get out with your coworkers ever again they drink like sailors
Don’t miss me
Hashirama smiled brightly and ran his thumb over the last words a few times before letting the note fall on the bed, lost in the mess of covers and pillows and immediately attacked by Matatabi, and picking up his phone; he unhurriedly thumbed through his socials, thoughts wandering about getting out of bed and ready for a morning jog, about that new protein shake he had bought and what flavor he should try, before he dialed his mother’s number. He sat up, swinging his legs on the side of the bed and the covers to the other side, and, after a thorough scratch of Matatabi’s ears, stood heading for the closet to retrieve his gym clothes.
His mother finally picked up and her slightly scratchy but happy voice filled his ear “Hey honey! Good morning!” “Mom! Can I come over for lunch?” Hashirama whined pulling on his pants and grinned with childish glee hearing his mother’s snort. “Oh, to what do I owe the pleasure?” “How dare you! I’ll have you know I just want to spend some quality time with my lovely mother!” His mother snorted louder this time, amused and fond, replying “Oh yes, I don’t doubt it! And please do tell me, is Madara going to join us?” Hashirama got stuck in his hoodie and fumbled around for a moment before answering with a small pout and loud complain “No. He has been called out tonight on a case. It’s just me. Your favorite son! And don’t say it! I am your son! Don’t drag Madara into this once more! And we’re not gonna drag Rama into this either! I’m the eldest! I deserve some privileges!” Hashirama picked up Matatabi and draped her across his shoulder, enjoying the sensation of her soft fur against his skin and her warm body molding against him, and walked out of the room listening to his mother’s amused reply smiling happily, glad in having succeeded in making her smile with his childish antics and already thinking about spending the afternoon with his family.
*
Monday, 04:02 PM.
The air was warm and moist and some of the fog from the bathroom swirled along his legs when Madara walked into the bedroom rubbing at his damp hair with a towel, leaving wet footprints on the floor and holding onto the towel around his hips with the other hand; for once the cats were out of the way and Madara could shuffle around the room and toward the closet without the risk of tripping on one, or both, of them. He dragged a hand down his face and sighed tired and absolutely done with everything, noticing that he needed to shave soon lest he walk around with his awful five o’clock.
Madara sighed wistfully and blinked tiredly a couple of times staring at his reflection in the mirror, ready to catch the damn thief and sleep for a week. They had been following her on a merry chase for the last 27 hours and this hitch really was not what they needed; sadly, it wasn’t even like they could keep going after having literally fallen into the sewers, even if the case was time sensitive. Madara shivered at the memory. At least he hadn't been the one to be completely submerged down there, just the one dragged down. And that was even worse, perhaps. Sure enough he would burn every piece of clothing he’d been wearing; even the socks Izuna had gifted him, as sad as that sounded.
He glanced forlornly at the bed all the while getting dressed, hoping against all hopes to have the time to lay down and sleep even for just a little bit. Madara roughly combed his fingers through his still damp hair, deeming it acceptably dry and already hearing Hashirama’s loud complains, before pulling it up into a ponytail using one of Hashirama’s hair ties. He bit down onto the pained groan trying to escape from his lips at the way his elbow hurt when bent and valiantly pulled on his pants before sitting on the bed to put on his shoes. Matatabi trotted into the bedroom with a gentle chirp, jumped on the bed and rubbed her fluffy body against his back; Madara smiled at the tickling sensation of her whiskers and gently scratched her between her fluffy ears, earning a very gratifying purr in return.
Madara stretched to reach the sharpie and post-it on the nightstand, placed it on his knee and quickly wrote another note for Hashirama to find once back at home; he stuck it on top of the latest sci-fi novel he had bought, and would probably never read, and placed both on top of Hashirama’s pillow before standing and, with a last scratch of Matatabi’s head, walking once more out of his apartment.
Do laundry – I was dragged into the sewers – I don’t wanna talk about it
STOP LAUGHING IDIOT
Be back soon
*
Tuesday, 4:34 AM.
Hashirama blinked his eyes open on the brink of complete wakefulness when he heard the front door opening and closing and the lights in the hallway turning on; he stared intently at the clock on Madara’s nightstand table and huffed, displeased but not surprised. He shuffled around in bed hugging the covers to his chest, and sighing loudly, and waited for Madara staring at the ajar door of the bedroom. The light in the hallway turned off while the bathroom’s one blared to life and Hashirama scrunched up his nose and closed his eyes rubbing his cheek against the pillow, trying to get as much sleep as possible.
Hashirama smiled hearing Madara silently tiptoeing around the room and opened his eyes to see him leave his clothes in a small pile in front of the closet before making his way to the bed freeing his hair. Hashirama watched with bathed breath as it fell all over Madara’s shoulders and back, some shorter strands over his delectable pecs and shielding part of that beautiful inked skin, making him look wild, powerful and not so strangely dangerous, and licked his lips appreciatively.
Madara pulled the covers up and Hashirama shifted back to make room for him before wriggling his way back in the middle of the bed and into Madara’s arms; Hashirama sighed relaxed against Madara’s neck and Madara tiredly tangled their legs together landing a small kiss on the top of his head. Hashirama closed his eyes once more, smiled against the pale inked skin of Madara’s collarbone then asked “So, did you see any alligator in the sewers?” and grinned when Madara groaned his displeasure. He placed an apologetic kiss under Madara’s jaw before relaxing completely, intent on enjoying the 20 minutes of sleep he had left.
Madara nosed slowly against his temple before yawning and whispering already more than half asleep “We caught her. I need to be back later.” Madara rolled on his side, pressed him against his chest and sighed deeply once before mumbling through another yawn “No alligators but there were pigeons.” He sighed one last time before going boneless and falling completely asleep. Hashirama huffed amused at the revelation and at his loose tongue in his state of barely wakefulness then sighed, breathing Madara’s scent in, and melted in the bed, smiling to himself.
Hashirama heard the cats lazily strolling into the room and opened his eyes to watch Kurama jump on the bed and worm his way between the two of them, ending up draped across their legs, and Matatabi silently walk all over the pillows and curl in Madara’s hair, messing it up even more before curling there and starting to purr, a soft thrumming sound spreading along the pillows. Madara’s heavy breathing started filling the air and Hashirama closed his eyes and enjoyed the peaceful moment.