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This was bullshit.
For the first time since Madara had discovered him there, Tobirama found himself eyeing the door to the side room of his office, contemplating whether he could risk a quick stint to take the edge off before his meeting was scheduled.
He had grown complacent over the past few weeks since Madara helped him test his hypothesis on how to subvert the curse, had found relief on the Uchiha’s cock, and, for once, shamelessly reaped the benefit of his curse rather than just being subjected to its horrors.
Just as the old accounts had hinted at, getting fucked by a Uchiha did help. And while being proven right wasn't exactly rare for Tobirama, he was still very pleased with the results—less so with the unintended side-effects, though.
Thanks to the thorough fucking just before Madara had to leave for his mission, Tobirama had managed to stave off the curse despite the Uchiha’s continued absence. But after Madara had been gone for more than a week already, deployed to settle Water's attempts at their borders, Tobirama found himself once again burdened with the glorious purpose that some shoddy goddess inflicted on him.
He didn't need a mirror to know that there was little left of his usual composure. Frustrated tears clung to his lashes, threatening to spill over because hidden underneath his desk, his dick was straining against the confines of his clothes, soaking the fabric with a steady leaking of cum despite Tobirama's best efforts to ignore the offending appendage.
There was no winning, though. Whether he touched himself or refrained from doing so, nothing would take care of his problem. If he were able to solve it by himself, Tobirama wouldn't have had to rely on Madara in the first place.
Not that he minded his dependency too much after the initial wave of mortification had run its stubborn course.
Admittedly, he had needed some time to get around to the idea, had been embarrassed by his neediness, but Madara had taken everything with an enviable grace, and Tobirama came to trust the older man. To desire him.
Still, Tobirama did not expect to actually miss the Uchiha's presence in his life beyond the obvious reasons for keeping him around. But it seemed as if he had grown used to shared meals and insightful conversations, to have an attentive audience for his ramblings about his newest ideas. He even missed the Uchiha's atrocious sense of humour.
Madara had been transparent in the beginning, had said that any Uchiha's attention would do in helping Tobirama manage the curse. But to his surprise, Tobirama found that he didn't even want to think about this obvious solution for his current troubles. He'd rather suffer the consequences while he waited on Madara's overdue return.
At least he had been able to stave off the curse for a little bit longer by using a plug to keep the cum inside. It was a workaround they'd discovered during their early experimentations regarding the boundaries of Tobirama's curse and his chosen solution. But while occasionally a nice fix, it was generally too uncomfortable to resort to on the regular.
And that was the story Tobirama would stick to, no matter Madara's smug grin whenever Tobirama declined the plug even though it meant that they'd have another tête-à-tête earlier than they strictly needed to.
Since Madara had yet to complain or even call him out on it, Tobirama didn't see why they should change their current routine. Why suffer… discomfort if Madara—the occasional mission aside—was generally available when Tobirama needed some assistance? Tobirama certainly had lost his reluctance to impose on the Uchiha's time after Madara had been the one to interrupt his research in the Uchiha archives time and time again for something as mundane as a snack and tea.
Admittedly, he had never been more productive, and even Hashirama had commented on Madara's improved mood, his lack of temper. Really, as far as Tobirama was concerned, he was basically doing a public service for Konoha as a whole by letting Madara fuck him on the regular.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the door to his office burst open and was kicked back closed not a moment later after Madara had stepped in with a mighty scowl that Tobirama hadn't seen in months. He looked a bit worse for wear with windswept hair and blood splattered across his front, but curse or not, the view incited a sudden surge of arousal that caught Tobirama off guard in its intensity.
Madara must've shared the sentiment, because the next thing Tobirama knew was that the Uchiha had ensnared him in a bruising kiss. The unfamiliar sensation pulled a surprised moan from deep within Tobirama's chest. It tapered out into a sob when, without hesitation, Madara reached between them and stopped Tobirama from blowing a load right away by firmly grasping the base of his dick.
It was at this moment that Tobirama realised he had given Madara entirely too much liberty of his body. Just a few weeks ago, the Uchiha wouldn't have dared to strut into Tobirama's office like this, wouldn't have dared to claim Tobirama, to shamelessly take what he wanted rather than humbly accept what was hesitantly offered.
Tobirama couldn't find it in himself to care too much, though. Not when, surprisingly, he had missed the other man like a limb during his absence.
"Here's what we're going to do," Madara panted right next to his ear after breaking off their first kiss. "I'm going to hide underneath your desk and put my mouth on you. I'll keep you nice and clean and sane. If you're good, you can have your academy, just as you always wanted. But you have to keep a straight face, can you do that?"
Absolutely not, not as high-strung as he was. But maybe if-
"Can you take off the edge? Then I can try."
Without another word, Madara vaulted over the desk and dropped to his knees, bullying his way under Tobirama's desk and between his knees. Tobirama’s length was freed before he even had a chance to properly process what they were about to do.
Tobirama was startled by his own noise when Madara's mouth suddenly became the centre of his whole world. They've never tried this before, but Madara took to sucking his dick as if he'd done it a thousand times, feasting on it like a man dying of thirst. It was wet and hot and everything Tobirama never knew he needed or even wanted, but whether he was influenced by his cursed virility or not, he could already feel how his dick was steadily leaking cum despite him not having reached an orgasm yet.
Something about the experience felt different from the times Madara had lent him a hand, and Tobirama could tell that there would be a much bigger mess than he'd ever made before. Distantly, Tobirama hoped he wouldn’t drown Madara when the time came.
The wet heat around his dick triggered an entirely different reaction than the smooth glide of either of their hands, already noticeable by the haze creeping in from the edge of his perception and only barely held at bay by his iron-clad self-control. He needed this meeting to go right, but if it weren't about the academy, Tobirama knew with sudden clarity that he'd cancel without a second thought and let the haze take him, let himself become a vessel of Madara's goddess to properly fill him up like a substitute for his whole clan.
It was this image that cost Tobirama. He came without any real warning and much more violently than ever before. It was difficult to tell whether it was caused by how pent-up and desperate he was or because, for the first time, Tobirama had leaned into the curse's effects rather than trying to get rid of them.
Before he could dwell on it—worrying if he'd opened a door that couldn’t be closed again—Tobirama was drawn back into the moment by Madara's cough. The Uchiha had obviously tried his best, but as usual, Tobirama's load was far beyond any reasonable amount. What Madara hadn't managed to swallow had spilt over his lips and chin, splattered over his face when he drew back too early, gasping for breath, while Tobirama was still shooting ropes of white.
All that stuff must be good for something besides breeding, right? Why not mark Madara as his own, feed him his seed to keep his stomach as full as the old texts in the Uchiha archives claimed their goddess wanted her so-called children to be?
For the very first time since this whole mess started, Tobirama was intrigued by his curse, and if he weren't desperately busy right now, his newfound appreciation of the Uchiha—his Uchiha—and the curse would certainly lend itself to some further experimentation.
Something in Madara's eyes told Tobirama that the Uchiha had a pretty solid guess on his thoughts, and he couldn't care less. At this point, shame and embarrassment truly held no place between them anymore.
Tobirama scooped up some of the cum on Madara's chin and brought it to his lips, watching avidly as the Uchiha cleaned his hand with precision, eyes dark with desire and blatant hunger that should chill Tobirama to the bones but only stoked the flame of his still persisting arousal.
There had never been reluctance to Madara's actions, nothing that had hinted at any discomfort, but it wasn't until now that Tobirama truly realised just how into all of this Madara was. How into Tobirama he was, from the very beginning.
And despite it all, Madara had still managed to treat him with as much respect as possible considering the circumstances, whereas now that Tobirama was aware of his own feelings on the matter, he wanted nothing but to be disrespectful in whatever way possible. If Madara let him, he'd fuck him over Amaterasu's shrine just to make a point.
A noise at his door burst their little bubble filled with depravity. When Tobirama looked back down, a menacing glint had entered Madara's eyes as if he'd read his previous thoughts yet again—Uchiha couldn't actually do that, right?
"Game face on, love."
Rather than adopting a straight face, Tobirama lost control of his expression for a precious few moments. Love? Madara's playful wink as his lips returned to Tobirama's dick did nothing to keep the bright flush at bay, and it was only his long years of experience that pushed every hint of emotion off his face when the door finally opened and his guests entered.
While his heart was bursting from an unexpected surge of joy, he still wanted to strangle Madara. As if this little game of theirs wouldn’t be difficult enough as it was.
It had been difficult, very difficult, but thankfully Madara hadn’t teased too much and allowed Tobirama to keep his wits. Madara's head had heavily rested against his thigh while he held Tobirama's cock secure in the wet heat of his mouth, swallowing only when the steadily leaking cum threatened to get past the seal of his lips.
In all honesty, Tobirama could probably get used to this. As did Madara, if one took into account the blissful expression on his relaxed face when Tobirama chanced a glance down half an hour into his meeting.
But all good things had to come to an end at some point, and Tobirama carefully exhaled when his office was finally cleared of anyone but Madara. Not that the Uchiha seemed to notice, still lazily suckling on Tobirama's cock every so often and not even reacting when Tobirama pushed his fringe back so he could have a better view of the unflatteringly flushed face and glazed eyes.
Before Tobirama could decide on how to play it from here, a ray of sunshine broke through the high window behind his desk and illuminated Madara's face, disturbing his peaceful daze. Tobirama felt a moment of loss when Madara blinked himself awake as he let the half-hard dick fall from his mouth to move his jaw and chase away the ache.
While he still refused to believe in anything divine, Tobirama couldn't help but wonder if this was some petty retaliation from the sun goddess because he had yet to 'spread her blessing' to anyone who had an actual use for it.
His nonsensical thought—alongside any other—was chased out of his head when Madara smugly licked his lips, signs of his previous daze still noticeable in the distant look of his eyes when he struggled to properly focus on Tobirama.
"Thank you for the meal," Madara rasped, and Tobirama kind of blacked out. He was overcome by a wave of need unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and it swept him away like the tide.
One moment he was sitting in his chair, looking down at Madara who was entirely too pleased at having fed himself Tobirama's cock, and the next thing he knew was that Madara was under him, trapped between the hard surface of his desk and the equally hard lines of Tobriama's body, every muscle pulled taunt to the max as he fucked into Madara's sloppy hole with all the passion he could muster.
Rather than trying to make sense of this new development, Tobirama was content to go with the flow, and collapsed over Madara’s back without letting up on his rhythm. Instead of letting any filth pass his lips, he murmured sweet nothings and possessive claims alike, words that, just as he expected, had a near-violent effect on Madara as he tried to buck back into Tobirama's unrelenting thrusts.
Madara wailed when he didn't find enough leverage to increase the pace, and Tobirama was sure he had never heard anything sweeter. Still-
"Sh, or they might hear you."