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This was probably the worst idea Tobirama had ever made with any sense of forethought. It was indeed an insane, absolutely, outright mad idea considering the consequences… but he loved his brother, and the village needed Hashirama to step up and do his job.
Hashirama was going to kill him.
Maybe. Probably?
Muffled sobbing pulled Tobirama’s attention back to the enemy ninja he had gone out and collected for the task he had given himself. A man was sitting in the middle of the large room lined with different shelves full of scrolls and scientific tools. The shinobi was strapped tightly to a chair, his mouth covered, and his eyes filled with fear as he stared at Tobirama. There was a hint of an acidic smell lingering underneath the sharp smell of chemicals. Tobirama gave him a cool once over and was distinctly unimpressed. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought as he continued to grab all of the necessary inks and tools off the table that he would need for the Edo Tensei and resurrection to succeed.
Tobirama needed to prepare the summoning circle, which required seals. He carefully brushed each one onto the cool creme slabs of stone. Each stroke was thick in nature, unable to be broken. It took him time, as the endeavor was significant, including different seals with different purposes. Tobriama included several that would bind and bend the summoned, far past his normal abilities, to his will if activated. There was another side effect he needed to be on the lookout for, but he wasn’t concerned about it, as Madara hated him, but… no matter. Uchiha Madara would be bound so tightly that at his core, he would know nothing but loyalty to the village and never be able to betray him.
When he finished inking the different seals, he stood up and stretched out his limbs before looking over at the sacrifice. Tobirama didn’t think his opinion of the man could go any lower, but it did. The shinobi had passed out in evident fear, if the smell of ammonia was any indication. “Standards are clearly dropping by the day,” he mutters in disgust.
Walking over to the man, he grabbed the back of the chair, and hauled it up to walk it to the middle of the circle. It was only a few steps - under ten strides - but the worm must have woken up as the crying started again. Rolling his eyes, he put the chair down in the center and gave the man a raised eyebrow. “Do you really think crying is going to save you?”
The man gurgled something behind the gag, which sounded a lot like a curse involving the White Demon name. Oh, well, nothing he hadn’t heard before and rather uncreative. He walked to the table to grab a wet brush, walked back over to the shinobi, and inked a paralyzation seal on his forehead. The man’s body stiffened briefly as the seal got to work before going lax. Undoing the bindings, he dropped the dead weight onto the floor before turning around to collect the necessary incense. “You should be grateful, shinobi-san; you will be able to contribute to something bigger and better with your life.”
Tobirama put the incense on the floor near the circle, lighting each one quickly, and allowing the scent of cedarwood and lavender to fill the room.
Finally, only one step was left: taking off his armor, and rolling up his sleeves to bear his seals. The seals would help support the weight of the binding. For him, Edo Tensei was created to be a bridge between his gift of necromancy and giving the summoned a proper, whole, and healthy body. A true resurrection.
For a happy and efficient Hokage? Well, he would deal with the consequences, even if the idea was still stupid.
Finally, Tobirama was ready. He breathed in, sliced a finger open with one of his teeth, and readied his fingers. “I, Senju Tobirama, summon thee, Uchiha Madara. Heed my call and come to me,” he commanded while his hands blurred through the Tiger, Snake, Dog, and then Dragon signs, rounding it all off with a slap. “Kuchiyose - no - Jutsu: Edo - Tensei.”
A soul latched onto his call, tethering itself to his soul. The feel of hotfirelifedeath chakra trickled into the space before rising steadily in the room, hitting a crescendo, and slamming back down. It shook everything, cracking walls and parts of the floor - even the painfully painted seals were broken. His eyes were wide as he watched the coffin suck the sacrifice in, and then out stepped a man. Tobirama’s seals started to take on the brunt of the summoning to hold the powerful soul in place.
Tobirama couldn’t breathe as he took the details of the man in. That was not Madara; it was not the soul he called for. His eyes traced over the man, taking in the details of the other before the soul got used to its fake body. ‘He could almost be Madara’s elder brother,’ he thought, taking in the long chestnut hair tied back in a loose ponytail, with two long locks wrapped in bandages that framed either side of his face. His eyebrows were cut short, and he had purple markings under his closed lids, sweeping along them.
Tobirama continued to let his eyes wander over the light kimono, over the magatama adorning the collar to the hints of black under the sleeves. The man was certainly attractive in the looks department. Gorgeous even.
“Ah, a necromancer,” a voice soft as silk washed over his ears, and Tobirama’s eyes jerked right into deep black pools. There was a small tilt to delicate lips, showing his amusement on an otherwise blank face. “It’s been so long since I have seen one of your kind. What a delightful morsel you are.”
Tobirama narrowed his eyes and ignored the unease that crawled up his spine. The man's void-like eyes slowly roamed over him, clearly tracing over ink and scars; every inch of Tobirama was being scrutinized. Eventually, he looked back into Tobirama’s red ones, acknowledging him once again. The burning heat of the man’s chakra shifted in the room, curling curiously around Tobirama’s own cool chakra.
“I am Otsutsuki Indra, Necromancer,” the newly dubbed Indra said, “although I have never met a necromancer who tried to summon someone already alive.” Indra tilted his head just so in evident amusement.
Tobirama’s eye twitched in annoyance, and he fought back a scoff. Pardon him for rightfully assuming that Madara was dead, as he had buried the man’s body over a year ago. However, Indra… Indra was an ancestor of the Uchiha, the traitor to his brother Ashura from the legends, the creator of ninjutsu. “Why did you answer my call?”
“Through soul and chakra,” Indra spread his hands wide, a smirk upon his lips, “-this Madara you know, and myself are tied intimately.”
Indra stepped forward to the edge of the circle, pulled his arms behind his back, and bent at the waist to lean forward enough to show his interest. Indra’s dark eyes panned down, then up before holding his gaze. “This Madara may have felt the pull on his soul and chakra, so he may yet still find you. Tell me,” he said softly, pausing for a moment before smirking, “was he your lover?”
Tobirama could not hold back a visceral reaction, a look of disgust curling around his lips. Tobirama curled his hands into fists so tight the knuckles went white. “No.”
“No?” Indra hummed, light and interested. “Why would you resurrect him then, if not for love?” he drawled, “You have quite the number of seals you planned on using, so you either love him or love someone enough to risk being around someone you hate, even if they were to be a bit…. bound tighter than a soul should be.”
Tobirama frowned and looked at the man in further interest. Tobirama’s feelings about Madara were complicated and Indra knew. The man was dangerous, and there was a whisper and promise of a challenge in his very breath. They both knew that Indra had figured out what the seals were for, and he found himself overcome with such a strong desire to know the man that it nearly took his breath away. He wanted to take Indra apart, rip into his knowledge and figure out what made him tick.
“You already know the answer to that, Indra.” He swallowed.
Indra raised an eyebrow. “Well then,” he froze, head whipping to the side where Tobirama had felt his brother’s chakra start to grow near, alarm and concern screaming in his chakra. Dark eyes narrowed briefly before turning back to Tobirama, looking completely unruffled, but the hotfirelifedeath chakra reflected anxiety for a moment. “-we should finish the ritual.”
Indra took a step forward as close as he could and lifted his hands, palms up. “I, Otsutsuki Indra, of sound mind, body, and soul, accept Senju Tobirama,” a flicker of a smile was given to the silver-haired man, “as my Master.”
So Indra did know his name. Somehow he felt like he was making a deal with a soul eater, but… Indra was temptation-made flesh. Finishing the ritual would guarantee Indra would never be able to hurt or harm him.
Tobirama stepped forward and put his palms on Indra’s cool ones, preparing himself for what may likely come. “I, Senju Tobirama, accept Otsutsuki Indra, who is of sound mind, body, and soul.”
---------
Water and fire chakra weaved together, dancing and playing together in harmony with a crushing weight. Tobirama’s senses were in awe, drowning him while making him sensitive and frozen as he just felt how the oath and vow took.
Indra felt the vow settle into his bones and was pleased with himself. He took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of air in his lungs and the sensations that let him know he was alive. It was a glorious feeling, and he didn’t mind that he had gained a companion for this life. The pale man before him was very creative, intelligent, and ever so strong. He could see it in the seals all over the room and in the taste of his chakra. Indra suddenly felt a deep flare to covet the man. But, remembering tidbits he knew of the last necromancer he knew, there was an extra step he should take. Sharingan flaring to life, he made his decision and bit the inside of his cheek, spilling blood into his mouth.
Briefly, Indra mourned not being able to woo the young man before bedding him, but the ritual had demands. He would do so after it was complete. Indra couldn’t wait to see what that brilliant mind would offer.
Too fast for Tobirama to react due to his distraction, Indra pulled him close, trapping him with an arm around his waist. The man grabbed his jaw with his other hand and kissed him right at the height of the chakra surge. Indra pried open his mouth with his finger, digging into the joint of his jaw, and, with his tongue, Indra ran the muscle over his teeth and curled it around Tobirama’s tongue. Tobirama was surprised as it was rather wet; the taste of the invading saliva was like iron, but Tobirama reflexively swallowed it down in the assault.
Between the overwhelming chakra and Indra’s lips on his own made pleasure curl down his spine, and he moaned into the kiss, starting to reciprocate it. He had never been kissed quite so filthily before, and the dizzying sensations made his toes curl in pleasure. Tobirama’s shaking hands came up to dig into Indra’s kimono and pulled the man closer in a desperate attempt to keep him there. Indra let out a low sound of rumbling approval as he pulled away.
Tobirama gasped for air, hazy eyes locking onto Indra’s Sharingan for a moment before his eyes fluttered closed. Indra moved the hand on his face to run his fingers up the back of his head and gripped the base of silver hair, only to pull. Tobirama’s head was forced back with his nerves tingling in delight when a wet tongue ran up his neck, stopping briefly to nip at the red band surrounding his throat. Indra moved on, kissing behind his ear and biting at the lobe.
Tobirama whimpered, his knees buckled in pleasure, but Indra held onto him. Everything was so overwhelming, so different from the last time he slept with someone. These sensations were more potent than ever, the ritual heightening the experience.
“You are a delightful morsel, Master.” Indra mocked. The tone shouldn’t have sent shivers down his spine, but he was powerless against it. “I am going to take you apart. I will have you writhing and moaning underneath me.” Indra purred.
Tobirama felt Indra smirk on his neck, satisfied at something, and he flushed, pleased that his new partner was clearly enjoying himself and humiliated at being put into this situation.
Tobirama tilted his head to the side to allow Indra better access to his throat.
The man hummed before bestowing a bite in the same place he kissed before, though this time it was followed by an open-mouthed kiss that was sure to leave a purpling mark. Tobirama was sure that when he looked in the mirror in the morning he would find a bruise over his tattoo.
After one last kiss, teeth worrying into the skin, this time placed right under his ear, Indra pulled away and looked down at him, dark eyes blown with desire and hunger.
"You're so incredibly responsive," Indra remarked offhandedly as his hand tangled in Tobirama's loosened hair and moved down to Tobirama’s throat, fingers dancing across his collarbone and down his chest. The sensation was enough to make fire bloom in his stomach. Indra moved the arm around his waist and brought both hands down to tuck under his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Tobirama's skin gained goosebumps from the air, and Indra took in the sight.
Tobirama feels – warm, even as he begins to shiver. Their combined chakra pours over him, all coiling power, muffling his senses until there’s nothing around him but Indra and the bond. Then, finally, he finds his voice, “I - it’s all so much. Your chakra is - ah- delightful.”
Is this what it felt like having Uchiha’s entire focus? One that toed the line between attraction and devotion? No wonder Hashirama had never wanted to let Madara go in his heart; death was the only option for letting him leave.
“Even better,” Indra moved chakra-charged fingers along red tattoos that swirled across his shoulders, down his pectorals and ribs, making him keen. Indra didn’t stop, continuing down to the top of his pants, tracing along the seam with a feather-light touch.
Vermilion eyes rolled back at the sensation, thoughts sputtering out, losing the ability to think. Of course, this man shouldn’t be able to make him lose himself like this, but the connection, it had to be the connection that made it more intense. These thoughts let him pull himself through the fog of pleasure.
Tobirama brought his hands up and pulled at Indra’s clothes, trying to take off the offending garments separating skin from skin. Indra was his, and while every one of his nerves were lighting up in pleasure, he needed to touch and reciprocate.
“Take off your clothes, Indra,” he commanded.
Indra grabbed Tobirama's hands, bringing them up to his lips to kiss the backs of them. “Of course, Tobirama,” he purred against Tobirama's skin, porcelain features still vaguely emotionless but his eyes hungry.
Indra stripped, lazy, and teasing, all to entice Tobirama into touching. Tobirama notices the satisfied smirk but gets lost in new flesh, tracing brand new skin with his fingers. Indra was such a beautiful creature.
The bond pulls once more, forcing the two back together, demanding completion. Pants come off quickly, leaving both bare to the cool air. Indra flared his chakra, which made Tobirama moan.
Tobirama licked his lips and reached out to pull Indra in, clutching firm muscles under his fingertips, braced himself, and lifted one leg around Indra's waist. Tobirama catches Indra’s lips with his own, nipping pale lips, asking to be let in, and Indra obliges. He licked the hot mouth before him, curling his tongue around Indra’s. It was delightful. Before Indra, kissing was something he never wanted to do, but every brush of his lips and tongue drove him crazy.
Things get a little blurry after that.
He finds himself flat on his back on his table, Indra between his thighs, and several fingers deep in his mouth. He felt three finger pads on the back of his tongue, so he closed his lips around them, only to lick and coat saliva between each finger. Tobirama wanted to earn a moan from the elegant man, but so far he had only gained purrs of approval and soft sighs. He rolled his hips, rubbing their cocks together deliciously. The hand on his face tightened, three fingers pressing down in his mouth for just a moment before Indra pulled away causing a wet pop.
“Patience,” Indra scolded lightly, tapping his lips once, and proceeded to trail those excellent fingers down his chin to his chest.
Tobirama felt a slick soaked, chakra-laced hand trace around his tattoos, making a torturous way up his inner thigh, finally touching his neglected cock, before sliding in between his cheeks, prodding, teasing, and circling. Indra tested the give before retreating to repeat the tease, finally sliding a finger into him. Tobirama whimpered, his hands coming up to grip a forearm to brace himself, closing his eyes to try to push the want back so he could last.
However, Indra was merciless, his free hand tweaking his nipples, pulsing his chakra to keep Tobirama docile under a blanket of pleasure while he opened up Tobirama. Fingers pressing against that spot inside him had his seeing stars, gasping in pleasure, and his back arched. Tobirama let go of Indra’s arm and tried to brace himself on the table, but his fingers dug uselessly into the wood.
Soon, one finger became two fingers, which became three, thrusting inside him. Tobirama's thighs began to shake as pleasure dripped down his spine and coiled in his pelvis. “Indra - My Indra, please!” He begged, wanting and needing more.
Indra spoke, but he couldn’t hear what was said; he could only feel the hand that finally wrapped around his cock, and the fingers that were driving into him. Then, only a few tugs later, the coil snapped, and Tobirama saw white. His eyes rolled back in his head, back bowed, and legs clamped around the body between them, suspended in a moment of bliss. As he came down from that blissful high, he registered that his body shook in the aftermath, satiated and boneless, but all he could think about was Indra.
“Gorgeous,” Indra said quietly, eyes finally the color of blood.
Tobirama sagged back onto the table, forcing his eyes to open. The sight that greeted him stirred immediate interest as he watched Indra clean his cum covered hand with his mouth before he raised his eyes to met the man’s Sharingan. Tobirama let a whine out as desire and satisfaction pooled in his stomach again so soon. He hated the Sharingan, but on Indra, it felt like a win to have those eyes on him, reading his body, memorizing it. Something profound sparked inside himself; Indra had sworn loyalty and fealty to him, but he wanted more.
Needed something more.
“I think you are ready now,” Indra pulled his fingers out, leaving Tobirama empty. He must have made a noise as Indra leaned over and kissed him. Tobirama took the chance to wrap his arms around the first Uchiha, dragging his fingers over solid muscle and up into Indra’s hair, digging his fingers into the silky strands.
While they kissed, Indra shifted his legs and lined himself up to enter the plaint body. Tobirama felt every inch of that blunt head stretching him, pushing in slowly as Indra filled him. His erection flagged at the sting; overstimulation made his eyes water, but he enjoyed the warmth and give, wanting to demand more. Tobirama parted from Indra’s kiss and looked at the fresh, unmarked skin before him.
His instincts cried out for more, cried to mark what was his.
“You feel amazing,” Indra rasped into his ear, voice thick with desire and strain. Tobirama felt a flare of pride in the way Indra already sounded. Indra finally bottomed out, stretching Tobirama to the point he couldn’t move his hips, stuck where Indra touched his prostate firmly. Suspended in the in-between of moving and adjusting, Tobirama gave in to his instincts.
Gripping Indra’s hair in a tight fist, Tobirama struck into the pale neck before him, sinking his teeth into flesh. His canines broke the skin, and blood dripped into his mouth, making him growl in satisfaction. When Indra finally gave a long, drawn-out moan, Tobirama felt a stab of pride. His instincts screamed, ‘mine!’
Finally.
“Fuck me, Indra,” he commanded breathlessly once he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips, mixing with saliva.
Indra looked down at him with wide eyes, darkening significantly despite the Sharingan still staying active. “Of course.”
Finally, Indra moved, thrusting into him, no head for the pleasure-pain of overstimulation Tobirama was experiencing. The following few thrusts pushed him over into all consuming pleasure that felt so good. All he could do was hold on for more. Tears started to run down his face as the pleasure continued to mount. “Ah! In-dr-ah!” he cried out.
“Did you imagine the positions reversed when you summoned Madara?” Indra gave a particularly hard thrust, earning a choked-off moan, “Would he have been able to satisfy you? Bent and fucked over your table, all to bind him so tightly? Make him yours to command?”
Yes, Tobirama had thought of it, reducing Madara to tears himself, fucking into that body just to give him to his brother as a gift. He would have had the satisfaction that Madara would have been ever so loyal after that and his to command.
On the next thrust, Indra’s hand finally wrapped around his cock, the other gripping his thigh so tightly bruises would be left behind. The shifting and changing of angles drive him to hit different spots. Tobirama moaned loudly, but something was missing. Every thrust felt mind blowing, but something in his chest told him it wasn’t enough.
Indra must have noticed as he leaned up, stopping to stare down at him. He hummed low in his throat and gave a quicksilver smile. “While you are delicious like this, Tobirama, I have a better idea,” Indra said as he pulled out, grabbed Tobriama’s hips, and flipped him over so his chest met the table. A hand in between his shoulder blades kept him still as Indra sank back into him, earning a cry. “Amazing, you are so good for me,” Indra crooned.
The change in position and the words washing over him made everything seem heightened. Red eyes rolled back in pleasure, and a deep flush from exertion spread down his cheeks to his chest and over his shoulders. He couldn’t believe the sensations he was experiencing, but all he could feel was Indra caging him in, consuming him.
“Ind-rah! Fu-ck! Ah!” Tobirama cried out, “You ah! Indrah, puh-le-ase!”
Indra murmured sweet nothings into his ear, his moans helping Tobirama spiral higher and higher.
Finally, Tobirama was pushed into the haze of pleasure, his brain no longer thinking about anything else but the feeling of Indra in him, pushing and pounding, the feel of a hot breath against his ear, contrasting the cool table on the other side of his face. From a distant place, he knew he was begging, could feel his lips forming words, feel the drool he couldn’t swallow slip from his lips, but he couldn’t bother to care. Then, when his body registered that Indra's thrusts had gained speed, like he was chasing his orgasm, Tobirama felt himself crawl closer and closer to that sweet edge.
Indra moaned, going harder and faster, making Tobirama wail as his second orgasm rips through him. He sobs in pleasure as it’s terrific and everything he wants. Finally, Indra stills, growling his release into his ear, and something slots into place in his chest. The energy in the air of the ritual is pleased, releasing the two from its grip.
——-------------------
Tobirama came to awareness slowly, disoriented and lax, curled up against a warm body. He could hear the heartbeat under his head and felt fingers carding through his hair. He took a deep breath and took the time to reorient himself, but the body half tucked under him was too tempting to leave. Tobirama sighed in contentment.
The hotfirelifedeath chakra was now only light against his senses, allowing him to feel the world around him. He stiffened when he sensed his brother's chakra outside the door, waiting. It rolled with multiple feelings, mainly curiosity, vague embarrassment, and impatience.
“Time to get up, my husband,” Indra said softly from underneath him.
Tobirama sat up in alarm and stared down at the Otsutsuki in shock. The man’s hair was spread out on the floor, and his face was back to that almost nothing expression, but his eyes were unusually soft. “Excuse me?”
A smirk flitted across Indra’s face, and Tobirama narrowed his eyes. “I added a bit to the ritual. I may be yours to command, but you are also mine, my master. For all eternity, we are bound. I just leveled the playing field to allow myself more freedom, so the best way to do that was to marry us.”
Tobirama stared and opened his mouth to retort, but something must have indicated to Hashirama that let him assume it would be safe to come in, and he finally barged through the door. Both heads whipped over to look at the brunette, who stopped in shock with one finger pointed up.
Brown eyes traced over the sight before him, before he covered his eyes with one hand, “My eyes! I thought you’d be dressed by now,’ he whined before taking a deep breath, “But, Tobira, what did I say about completing the Edo Tensei ritual alone? This is how you end up married.”
Tobirama cringed sheepishly. So that’s what called Hashirama into the room, he heard Indra call him husband. Well fuck. “Ah, well. Good news, Madara’s still alive?”
Hashirama just groaned loudly, mumbling something about brothers who needed more supervision, but Tobirama felt the flare of deep fondness and a bit of happiness at the news. Indra squeezed his waist in support, his own chakra deeply amused. It looked like everything was going to be okay, even if he had to deal with wrapping his head around his new married status.
Oh.
Screw Hashirama, Mito was actually going to be the one to kill him.