Chapter Text
tobirama can think of fifty different ways as to how he wanted to spend his friday night, with relaxing in a tub at the very top of the list. this headache is most definitely not one of them.
“brother, will you stop your idiot of a friend?” said tobirama, while blaming every deity that put him in this exact position in time and space.
“let him have fun, tobi. you know he’s stressed with work,” hashirama replied amusedly beside him on the open balcony, both with wines in hand.
in the middle of the living room of hashirama and mito’s house, is uchiha madara, feared chief of police by the entire force and just about any goon in konoha, dancing—if you can even call it that. it really just looks like absurd flailing, absolutely no trace of the grace and dignity his decorated position required of him.
“i’m not lugging him home,” tobirama grumbled, “and i will not deal with his vocal exercises in the morning when he is reminded of his foolishness.” he added, pointedly looking at touka and izuna, who have their phones out, recording the whole thing for everyone who cannot be at the party. undoubtedly, those videos would be up in the senju-uchiha groupchat in the next hour or so.
“you can’t leave him here, brother, mito and i are leaving early tomorrow. oh, he’s gonna have such a killer hangover with no one to take care of him!” hashirama pouted.
tobirama was about to reply when there’s a very loud shout of “darling!” distinctively in his husband’s voice.
“good night, brother. i’ll see you and mito when you get back,” tobirama growled, muttering about strangling him tonight. i’m smart, i can get away with it.
when madara saw tobirama walking to him, he started stumbling to meet him halfway only to trip on a wayward bottle of whiskey which, most probably, had been emptied in the punch bowl containing at least six different types of alcohol that tobirama wisely avoided. honestly, madara knows he can’t handle his liquor, when will he stop accepting drinking challenges from mito who can and has drunk everyone in the room and more under the table?
tobirama sighed and crossed the short distance left between them to crouch in front of his husband, “let’s go home, madara.”
suddenly, madara lifted his head and with a loud voice proclaimed, “TOBIRAMA! THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE, THE FIRE IN MY LOINS, THE ITCH IN MY CRO-mmpph!!“
tobirama desperately wished that izuna and touka have already stopped recording, but hearing touka’s aborted laugh, all his hopes are dashed. itama and kawarama will be insufferable with their teasing.
he hauled madara up and bid everyone goodbye. his luggage, in the form of an almost six foot man, also shouted his goodbyes and honestly, what is up with the uchiha’s vocal cords? i’m gonna be deaf by the time we’re 50.
he walked to their car and while strapping madara’s seatbelt, he found the man staring at him with what seemed like wonder in his eyes.
“what is it?” tobirama exclaimed, blushing and still unused to the soft looks from the older man, no matter how frequently he receives them.
“you are the most beautiful man to have ever graced the earth, and i am eternally lucky to hold the promise of your happiness until the end of your days.” madara replied in a deep tone that tobirama has fallen for, time and time again. apparently, aside from their loud voices, cheesiness is an uchiha thing too. or maybe, it’s just madara.
“i’ll wake you when we get home,” tobirama said, “and i love you too.”
he heard madara chuckle as he closed the car door. he can’t wait to do the second best way to spend his friday night: cuddling his husband at home.