*/*/*

The riverbank was different in late October that it had been at summer. The sunshine still gave warmth, but cold winds were blowing as well, carrying fallen leaves with them. Meeting with Madara was also different, now that so many things changed. Hashirama was happy to note that they improved mostly for the better.

"Attack already," he told the boy. "Do you think you can become strong enough to defeat me if you're just lying on the ground?"

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, but he was getting up, and patting the dust off from his backside. He didn't become more respectful, not even a bit, now that he knew Hashirama's identity, but the Senju didn't mind. He attacked again, and it was more difficult to fend off his blows this time. Of course the teen still ended up on his back. He tried to kick the man off him when he held down his arms above his head, but without much success.

"You are not motivated enough," Hashirama shook his head, ignoring that as always, the closeness of the slender, springy body immediately started to have an effect on his. "Maybe we should make a bet."

"A bet?" Madara asked, intrigued enough to forget about his struggle.

"Hmm-hmm. Let's say… if you don't manage to get me on the ground today you'll get to prepare and serve Tobirama his tea."

"What?!" Madara gasped, horrified.

"That would give you a reason to double your efforts, wouldn't it? Now what would you like if you can best me? Maybe…"

"You could…kiss me." He flushed a deep shade of red, making the Senju suspect he had more in mind than just a kiss.

"I might do that otherwise as well," he said gently, raising his hand to caress his friend's smooth cheeks. "Is that what you really want?"

"No, I…" he took a deep breath, before setting up his chin. "Well yes, but… do it properly."

"Properly, huh?" he couldn't help but grin at that. He wondered what was going on in the teen's mind – his own certainly came up with a lot of interesting possibilities. But he made a promise to himself; even if he found the Uchiha so irresistible, he wouldn't do anything he didn't ask for. He couldn't allow his own desires to ruin such a precious, young life. "It's a deal," he said simply, when Madara nodded. The next moment the little fiend was on him like a whirlwind, more than determined to best him this time.

It was getting harder to resist his longings with each passing day. Madara, as boys of his age were bound to, grew very quickly, getting taller, more mature with every week. His voice rarely cracked any longer, taking on a deep, smooth tone that he'd have as an adult and he didn't look much like a child any longer. Hashirama was feeling less guilty about wanting him so much, though he was undeniably still very young. So maybe it wouldn't be that bad to take this thing that was between them to the next level… Now that Madara was with him more it wouldn't be that difficult.

The boy had been serious about wanting to learn from him -he had even managed to convince his father that it would be a great first step to build the trust between their clans, if he'd become Hashirama's apprentice. Many of the Senju thought that he was with him as a hostage and was surprised when he turned out to be free to come and go and with the amount of time Hashirama spent with him.

There was hardly any day when Tobirama didn't pull him aside to try to convince him not to do that. "You can't trust them," he would say, "I know you saved that snooty kid, but they won't stay grateful for long. I don't give them much time and they will come against us, again." Add to the mix how Madara always made a point to be rude and hostile to him… and the situation became more than volatile.

Good thing that otherwise the two clans fared with peace rather well. Of course it was a slow thing, building trust and learning to trust the others, but…

In the last moment Hashirama managed to turn his face, so Madara's fist, that would have surely broken his nose, only connected with his cheek. The force of the blow still sent him staggering back. He hastily took a defensive pose – apparently he'd been fighting on autopilot as his thoughts carried him away and his opponent didn't fail to take advantage of his inattention. He was getting stronger and faster with each day, making it quite a challenge to keep up with him. Hashirama could have defeated him still, even if not with such ease as he did just half a year ago… but he wasn't that keen to win this particular match. But of course he'd given him a hard time, so when Madara finally pushed him to his back and kneeled astride his chest, he could grin with real satisfaction.

"Hah! Got you this time, old man!"

"So you did," he watched with fascination as the teen bit his lower lip, trying to decide if he should ask what obviously was on his mind. But he wasn't one to back down from challenges after all.

"So… about my reward…"

"I didn't forget about it," Hashirama smiled. He pulled the boy down and pressed his lips against his softly.

"That wasn't proper at all," Madara muttered and he laughed.

"Not here," he caressed his cheek. "I promise to kiss you properly at home."

"Don't try to wriggle out of it!"

"Why would I?" he grinned. "But now I want to show you something, come."

Madara muttered something under his nose, but followed Hashirama up to the hilltop. The valley, as always, was beautiful with the forest below and the river crossing it. It never failed to fill Hashirama with peace, but now that he had such plans with it, he found it even more breath-taking.

"I think this would be a great place for the village."

"Village?"

"Where our clans could settle down together. A place for everyone to join if they agree with our principals."

"So you were serious about that?"

"I tend to be serious about things I want. About people I love."

Madara glanced at him from the corner of his eye and a small, pleased smile curved his lips. The Senju put his arm over his shoulder and he leaned into the embrace. They stood like that for a long time. Hashirama felt at peace more than he ever did in his life before.

*/*/*

Tired with the taxing training of that day, but elated over his victory, Madara couldn't wait to be back at the Senju settlement to clean himself and to see Hashirama keep his promise about proper kissing. He wished he'd been more courageous and asked for something more. His mind happily wandered to possibilities they could do, things that he was now certain he liked, and things that seemed a bit vague and maybe even scary, but still desirable. If they'd really build a village, where the clans lived together they could spend even more time with just the two of them. That was quite a plan.

The more Madara was in his presence, the more he could believe in this peace Hashirama so liked to talk about. Madara used to think that a true leader had to be just as smart as strong and just as cruel with his enemies as caring about his own kin. His view was changing slowly - Hashirama wasn't particularly smart or cruel by any measure, but still seemed a suitable head of his clan. He even managed to get the Uchihas to accept him.

As if his charm was irresistible, from being the arch enemy of their kind he quickly became the role figure of peace. Men liked him and women… well. Madara preferred if he didn't visit the Uchihas' encampment too often.

"He's a surprise, isn't he?" he overheard their mom talking to their father once.

"I guess so. Not as Butsuma had been. It's rare for a man with such power wanting to make peace instead of conquers."

"And he's rather handsome too. What do you think; shouldn't the clans strengthen their bond through marriage as well? I'm sure we wouldn't lack candidates…"

So altogether he was the happiest if he could spend time with Hashirama away from the predatory eyes of females of the marriageable age, even if it meant time away from his family. He did miss his brother, and Izuna always tried to make him stay...

"Why do you have to go the Senjus again?" he'd asked Madara every time he was about to leave, unperturbed that the answer was pretty similar in every case.

"It's not that I have to, Izuna. I want to. You know I'm learning from him."

"But what can he teach you that father can't?"

"A lot," and not just taijutsu or ninjutsu, but obviously he wouldn't tell that to his little brother. Not that Hashirama was doing much – honestly, he was doing annoyingly little. That was at first reassuring – he'd been a bit afraid that the man might try to take advantage of the new situation. But by now he just wished that he'd finally take advantage – caresses and kisses were the most inappropriate things he'd done. Maybe he found Madara too immature, too much of a child… or maybe he was just a damn tease, trying to drive him mad.

"You shouldn't trust him. He's a Senju after all," was another thing Izuna always pointed out to him.

"Funny for you to say that, with how awed you were with him and all," he told him once and smirked when his brother flushed. It was understandable of course – Hashirama did save his life after all. When he visited, right after the pact for peace was signed, their whole clan had been very suspicions of him. But he won them, just as he won their father. Just as he'd won Madara. Izuna, with all of his eleven years' determination to hate the man no matter what, didn't last long against his friend's charisma either. He just had a certain way with words that made people trust him, or maybe it was how he managed to appear calm and cheerful all the time. It didn't take a day, and Izuna was asking him to take him as his apprentice as well. He gently refused – which pleased Madara a lot, something he felt guilty about later – and since then his little brother settled for being jealous for the time he spent away with him.

That didn't keep him back from asking Hashirama every time they met to teach him stuff.

Though Madara never minded sharing anything with Izuna, it was pleasing that Hashirama was only his - his mentor, his friend. His lover, if he could use the word for the kisses and caresses they shared. But maybe that was about to change. If needed, Madara was willing to take the initiative, he was getting frustrated enough for it. So maybe today… Hashirama did promise him a proper kissing after all. It could easily lead to more...

But once back at the encampment, Hashirama got caught up in all the nuisances of leading a clan – seemed as if the Senjus couldn't exist without his constant guidance for a day– something that made Madara wonder if they were simply dim or if it was the same with his own clan. He didn't wait for him, rather went ahead to have his light dinner alone once Tobirama showed up. He had his own room, for the first time in his life, not shared with any of his brothers, right in Hashirama's house. It was an unexpected safe haven, perfect for times like this, when he didn't want his good mood ruined by listening to the white haired bastard scolding his friend for spending too much time with him, for neglecting his other, more important duties just to train him. Though Hashirama reassured him that he wasn't duty at all, the boy never could get that out of his mind.

He was obviously more tired than he realized as he woke to Hashirama touching his face softly. It was already dark, he could make out only his silhouette, but he wouldn't have mistaken his presence even if he'd gone blind. Madara sat up, mind foggy with his disappearing dream. That warm palm on his cheek was so comforting, he felt like slumping against the man's chest and slipping back to sleep. Funny, how his fingers weren't calloused at all, probably thanks to his healing abilities… he yawned and snuggled close. His friend chuckled and caressed his hair.

"Sorry, it took longer than I expected. I'll just let you sleep."

"Can you stay?" Madara mumbled.

"Do you want me to?"

"Hmm-hmm," he nodded, pressing his face into the crook of Hashirama's neck. He smelled nice, like those ancient trees next to the river at summer. He nuzzled the soft skin, his lips touching it in an almost-kiss. The Senju pulled him even closer, so he did it again, this time licking it with the tip of his tongue.

Hashirama shifted and he hang onto him, ending up in his lap somehow, with his legs astride of those narrow hips, half kneeling on the bed, half sitting on the man's thighs. He wasn't that sleepy anymore, as his body started to respond to the warm power radiating from his friend and to his light but still arousing touches, but he pretended, hiding his face, arms entwined loosely around the other's neck. It was easier this way, he didn't feel embarrassed as he was just letting things happen.

The Senju stroked the line of his jaw then cupped his face gently, raising it until Madara looked him in the eye. His expression must have given him away, as Hashirama smiled mischievously before he dipped his head to kiss him, properly just as he promised. Madara gasped into his mouth as his lips moved over his, rocking his hardening prick against his hips unconsciously and Hashirama cradled him to his chest, one hand in his hair, the other running small circles on his back. When he tried to pull back the teen clung to him.

"No, don't…" he muttered, "we can do…more?" It came out somewhere between a question and a go-ahead, a plea and an order. He frowned to himself, remembering he wanted to be more firm in this matter so his friend wouldn't think him a child. Hashirama didn't seem to mind his tone though. He pulled Madara close again, moving his own hips just slightly as if he couldn't help himself. He was hard as well, it was pressing against the back of the boy's thigh, intimidating but arousing.

"You sure of this?" he whispered into his ear and Madara nodded. Wasn't that obvious? For being the strongest shinobi alive, the man could be really dense at times. Well, dad always said that Senjus were more muscle than brains…

All thoughts of his father and old prejudices were pushed out of his mind instantly when strong, clever fingers started to untie his shirt, caressing his naked skin underneath. Hashirama wanted to lay him back, but Madara shook his head – he was more comfortable like this - held close, feeling protected. Lying there while his friend undressed him – that would make him too open and vulnerable. Awkward and helpless, like a kid. The other understood him without words and didn't force it. The Uchiha kissed his neck again, grinding against him, burying his fingers into his silky locks and pulling on them probably too hard when that palm slid down to the front of his pants, cupping his dick through the rough material.

Hashirama's movements were slow, as if wanting to give him time to protest when he unlaced his trousers and reached inside, but stopping him was the last thing on the teen's mind. He was too busy trying not to come straight away being touched there finally. The Senju started to stroke him leisurely and he couldn't keep back soft gasps and moans as his face flushed red from excitement and embarrassment. It was such a simple thing really, not that different to when he was doing it to himself, no reason to feel shy about it. But of course, it wasn't the same at all, not really, not the hurried strokes when he was just getting rid of it, but obviously intended to cause him pleasure.

He realized suddenly what he was doing, hanging onto Hashirama's neck and humping his grip. It shouldn't be like this - he must reciprocate instead of just letting it happen, if he wanted to be equal to the man. He took a deep breath, making himself to unlock his arms and slide his hands under the hem of Hashirama's shirt. He stopped caressing Madara to let him map his body. He wore loose, comfortable clothing all the time, successfully hiding his battle-honed, hard muscles. They felt surprisingly good under his first tentative touch. He grew bolder, fingers sliding down the taut stomach low enough to graze dark, curly pubic hair. His friend gasped and that sound pleased the teen to no end.

"Can I…" he started, but realized it was stupid to ask permission in such situation. Hashirama nodded anyway, so he loosened the lacing of his pants, trying not to stop to think as he wrapped his fingers around his erection and drew it out. He was… indeed bigger there, just as he suspected, and it was red and hard and intimidating, making Madara realize he was really doing it, holding a man's stiffened penis in his grip.

He glanced up tentatively to Hashirama's face, having half a mind to tell him it was a mistake after all, but he found him with his eyes closed and biting his lower lip. He was obviously holding back, and suddenly Madara saw the situation in a different light – he did this to him, made this man, the leader of Senju, the object of desire for women, the strongest shinobi he'd ever know, want him. He had power over him now. It wasn't one sided at all, not just some childish fantasy – he wasn't alone in this.

He moved his hand experimentally and the other thrust his hips up to meet it. Strangely it was almost as satisfying when it was done to him, the feel of silky, damp skin not that alien as he first thought it to be. Hashirama pulled him close until their foreheads touched.

"I want you so much," he muttered, sending a thrill down the teen's spine. He kissed him deeply, tongue pushing against Madara's, his hand – the one that wasn't busy with stroking him again – cradling the back of his head. It was funny that it was just… jerking off the other, really, still the Uchiha felt more excited than ever before in his life.

Hashirama's hand slid down his back to cup his arse, fingers digging in just a bit too roughly.

"Do you… do you want to fuck me?" Madara heard his own voice whispering, he didn't even know where the words were coming from. Even in the dark of the room he saw the Senju's eyes were opened wide and looking at him with unmistakable lust. He was scared he'd say yes, but he didn't know if he could bear hearing him answer no – his doubts paralyzed him once more.

"Yes," Hashirama said on a throaty voice. "I very much want to. But not today. I'd rather just take things slow, we have plenty of time. I don't want this to be rushed. I want to make love to you properly"

The tension left the teen's muscles. That seemed just like a perfect answer. This time he let Hashirama lay him back, he didn't find him intimidating as he rolled on top of him, keeping his weight on one of his forearm. The older man took both of their cocks into his hand, rubbing them together, thrusting against him and that was good, better than good. Soon enough Madara was shoving his own hips up, moving together. His orgasm was sudden, pleasure twisting in the pit of his stomach so harshly that it was painful as he came, holding onto Hashirama's neck as if his life depended on it.

The Senju kissed him deeply once more, his hand flying on his own cock now, and Madara wasn't even embarrassed to raise his head to watch and only just a bit when he reached out to touch it again. It was wet with Madara's semen, and though usually the Uchiha instantly cleaned it up after reaching his peak when he pleasured himself, now he didn't mind the stickiness. He wrapped his fingers around the hard member, and Hashirama covered his hand with is, helping him move it the way he wanted it. When the teen's thumb pressed against the slit at the head, the man gasped and thrust hard against both of their palms as he shot his release, making even more a mess on the teen's stomach and chest. Maybe he should have found it disgusting, but his spent dick gave an interested little twitch at the sight.

His friend slumped down next to him, breathing hard, and ignoring the sticky patches of cum, pulled him close. He'd need a thorough washing, but he was just too boneless to move.

"Thank you," Hashirama said, kissing the top of his head and Madara had to laugh. How silly that was?

"Can you stay? For tonight?"'

"Of course I can."

"Won't your men miss you?"

"I don't think they need me when they sleep," Hashirama chuckled. "But anyway, I'm their leader – I can do whatever I want."

He was being stupid again – Madara wasn't even fifteen yet, but he already knew that leaders of clans were bound by thousands of expectations and harsh duty, much more so than an average shinobi was. But if Hashirama was content to pretend otherwise, he didn't want to be the one to ruin that. It felt too good to lie in his arms to point out he was wrong.

He yawned. Who knew, maybe he could indeed do whatever he wanted. After all, he met Madara, saved Izuna, made peace with the Uchiha – that was surely against the expectations they burdened him with too. And now they had become lovers, hadn't they? He rolled the term around his mind, liking the sound of it. He'd just try to trust Hashirama to know what to do and maybe then everything would be all right.

FIN

Thank you for reading! Comments/reviews are much appreciated.