Yoo! Welcome to the first chapter of my One-Shot collection!
The various chapters of this collection are not necessarily connected to each other and may be set in AUs occasionally, but I will inform you of this in the beginning notes of each chapter in these cases, so watch out for that!
These are translations of my German One Shots and will also be on my tumblr and on AO3, so don't be alarmed, that is all me.

Without any further ado, here's the chapter, enjoy and perhaps leave a review!

Everyone in the village was convinced that Hashirama Senju, God of Shinobi, was an ideal role model for all and an inspiration for those who believed in a better future.

Great that they couldn't see him right now.

"Better now?"

Hashirama lifted his head slightly and with a miserable expression on his face looked up to Madara, who had let go of the Senju's hair and had his arms sternly crossed in front of his chest now. Madara almost felt sympathetic.

"This usually doesn't happen to me, I swear…" Hashirama simply moaned, letting his head hang again. At least he didn't retch again. Madara scrunched his nose up at the memory.

"Hopefully. At least that way you retain some dignity. Now get up, idiot" Madara commanded harshly and rolled his eyes when Hashirama whimpered in response and didn't make a move to get to his feet. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"I still feel nauseous…"

"So what? You can't spend the whole night sleeping on my bathroom floor."

"Yes I can! You'll be asleep anyway, so what do you care!"

"I'm going to kick you out if you're not gonna get up already!"

This at least proved effective. Slowly Hashirama pulled himself up by the toilet and then supported himself by leaning on the wall, obviously not quite trusting his legs yet. They did tremble and Hashirama's face was unusually pale. He hadn't lied in regards to the nausea at least.

"You're cruel, did you know that?" whined Hashirama and pushed his bottom lip forward in a pout, but Madara was too annoyed tonight to fall for that trick again. Though when Hashirama stumbled when he pushed himself away from the wall, Madara sighed and put Hashirama's arm over his shoulder to support him.
This close up, he could distinctly make out the stench of alcohol.

Determined, Madara pulled Hashirama towards the sink with some difficulties and ordered Hashirama to wash out his mouth, before dragging the both of them towards the kitchen.
Hashirama let himself plop down on one of the pillows around the low table in the room, while Madara looked after the tea he'd been making before Hashirama had rushed to the bathroom to empty his stomach.

With another sigh, Madara brought over the tray with the tea pot and two cups and set it down on the table, sitting down across from Hashirama, who by now had his head propped up on his arms and still looked far from chipper.

He was uncharacteristically quiet as he thanked Madara for the tea and only carefully took sips of his beverage. After a short silence that, due to the late hour, was not even interrupted by outside noise, Madara eventually asked "Why did you get so hammered anyway?" He sounded a lot less accusatory than intended. Perhaps he had been harsh enough earlier.

Hashirama groaned and tilted his head a bit to the side, eyes closed and brows furrowed. "I didn't mean to drink that much!" he assured him, "the leader of the Inuzuka proposed that we celebrate the successful negotiations and I just… didn't pay enough attention to how much I was drinking!"

Madara barely resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands at the second-hand embarrassment. Of course. Of course Hashirama would get drunk right after talks with a new ally in the presence of said ally.

Eventually he shook his head and took a sip of his own tea. "You're impossible, Senju."

Despite his miserable state, Hashirama grinned at these words. "Yeah yeah, and I am lucky that you are so generous and endure me. I really am thankful for you, especially because you held back my hair." As if on cue, Hashirama brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear, chuckling quietly to himself.

"Hn" Madara merely grunted and avoided eye contact with the Senju, who simply proceeded to laugh. The Uchiha's cheeks were practically burning and he fell into grave silence. Hopefully the reddening of his cheeks wasn't visible in the dim light of the lamp.

Hashirama at least didn't seem to notice. He took a sip of his tea every once in a while and had closed his eyes once more, apparently exhausted from the long night and its undignified end. By now his face had regained some color, which was a good sign, even if Madara wasn't sure whether Hashirama could make it all the way to his home just yet.

Madara allowed himself to study Hashirama's face a bit more.
After all Hashirama rarely kept still long enough for something like this, and Madara… liked it when Hashirama wasn't so overly bubbly. He seemed more… mature.

Maybe he also liked that Hashirama was only this calm when they were alone.
Hashirama pushed the cup away from himself after a while and straightened up. "Mhm, I think I'm better now. I'm at least not feeling so dizzy anymore…"

"Are you going home then?" Madara inquired with a raised eyebrow, which caused Hashirama to ponder the question for a moment. "Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome and test your generous hospitality, you would attempt to strangle me within the hour" he joked, though he didn't quite seem as if he wanted to leave.

Hashirama slowly got up, still not fully secure on his two legs, but at least not seeming as if he'd trip and fall any moment. He didn't look quite as pathetic anymore.

Madara fought with himself for a second. On one hand, Hashirama deserved to suffer for such a mistake, after all it should be a lesson to stay away from alcohol. But then, he'd spent half the night cowering on the bathroom floor like a picture of misery with his head next to the toilet.

"Stay there" Madara told him and already cursed himself within the same breath. He stood up and left for his bedroom to set up a second futon a bit distanced from him own that he'd already gotten out on the tatami mats before Hashirama's arrival.

The yukata Madara found would be too small for Hashirama, but that would be an inconvenience Hashirama would just have to live with.

The bundle of clothing pressed to his chest, the Uchiha returned to the kitchen, where a vaguely confused Hashirama still stood. Wordlessly, Madara threw the yukata and disappeared again into the bath to clean his teeth. He had to keep busy, because the alternative would be to think about whether he'd just made the right decision.

An odd sense of anxiety spread in him, settling deep in his bones and constricting around his rib cage, and Madara hated it.

But too late, he'd have to endure this now.

Hashirama should give the damn office of Hokage to him out of sheer gratitude already, damn it.

When he left the bath, Hashirama already passed by him, and even out of his peripheral vision Madara could tell that the yukata didn't fit.

Madara flitted to his bedroom and pulled the lamp there closer to his bed so he would not be forced get up later in order to kill the light, and already lied down and pulled up his blanket. His heart was beating much too quickly, and already hope that he'd manage to fall asleep quickly was leaving him. But if he pretended to sleep, Hashirama would leave him alone.

He pressed his face into the hard pillow and didn't move a muscle when he felt Hashirama's presence fill the room. The Senju walked across the straw mats over to his sleeping place, staggered slightly before he…

"The fuck are you doing there, Hashirama?" Madara grumbled, voice muffled through the fabric.

Hashirama gave no reply as he pushed his futon closer and closer to Madara's until the two were right next to each other.

"In case I'll feel sick again later, I can wake you more quickly this way. And I won't accidentally step on you!" Hashirama claimed as he lied down much too close for Madara's comfort.

Madara was too exhausted and tense to argue about this with Hashirama. And there was some reason to that, wasn't there? It was… fine this way. And Hashirama radiated oddly calming warmth…

Ugh.

At least Hashirama finally shut his mouth.

Madara paid close attention to Hashirama's breathing until it was so slow and steady that Madara could assume that he was asleep. The Uchiha killed the light and pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

Against his nervousness and the dull feeling that he'd made a mistake, Madara sensed that the quiet breathing and the warmth coming from Hashirama rather calmed him, as strange as that was. It didn't take long until he was about to slip into dreams…

"Madaraaaa."

That couldn't fucking be.

There was some rustling, then Hashirama leaned over to him.

"Thank you, for letting me sleep here and for helping me tonight."

Madara froze on the spot when Hashirama bent down over him and touched his lips against Madara's.

"Goodnight~" chirped Hashirama before retreating to his bed and didn't make another sound.

What
was that.

Madara's mind was suddenly in turmoil.

Even though the kiss had barely lasted a second, so short that Madara's brain barely had time to process what had occurred, but his lips tingled nonetheless and when he licked over them to get rid of the sensation, he tasted tea.

His hands gripped the sheets tightly; heat crawled up his neck and spilled across his cheeks as his heart threatened to jump out of his chest.

What
had that idiot been thinking?!

Madara tried in vain to understand what had happened, but apparently with so much effort that it lead to some sort of short circuit in his brain that made him give in to the first impulse, there was no other way the Uchiha could rationalize it.

Overcome with a surprising sense of determination and courage Madara sat up ramrod-straight, bowed over Hashirama's now truly asleep body and pressed his lips against those of his friend, his eyes screwed shut.

An eye for an eye, or something.

Madara stayed in place for a moment as the sensation was deeply burned into his memory and then scrambled backwards to lie back down on his futon.

He kept his eyes close, listening to whether Hashirama would move or if something about his breathing changed, but nothing happened. He apparently hadn't noticed a thing.

Madara could barely believe what he'd done, but he didn't want to deal with the feelings raging inside him just yet.

He turned onto his stomach and wrapped himself into his blanket, forcing himself to not think of anything.

Hashirama had probably still been a little drunk, and he wasn't aware that Madara had kissed him, so it was as if nothing had happened at all.
With that thought, Madara managed to fall asleep.

He could think about his bad life choices in the morning.