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Trapped Heat by SerpentatSunset

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Story notes: Title: Trapped Heat

Author: Fenikkusu Ai
Rating: T
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Uchiha Madara/Hashirama
Words: 387
Genre: Humor/Romance
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Hashirama still sat there with a glum face when Madara finally crashed through the door. Madara saw no need for subtlety. Or quiet.

"Your tea is cold," Hashirama informed him. He wondered if his tone was scolding enough.

Hashirama's reply was a "hn." Apparently, Madara didn't feel conversational.

"Hot out there anyway. Hot in here. What's the difference? Who the hell feels like drinking tea when it's hot out?"

Hashirama sighed at his cantankerous companion. Madara of course also saw no need for refinement. Hashirama wondered if the others were correct when they called him bestial, but Hashirama knew that even Madara had his preferences.

The Senju knew that Madara took no cream nor sugar. All he would take was two slices of lemon squeezed dry to the husks. What was left in the cup was a sour heavy tea that left one shivering in its flavor.

Comparable to Uchiha Madara himself.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Hashirama watched Madara gulp down the dark brew and noticed how appealing it was when his upper lip twitched at the citrus tang.

"Damned hot," the Uchiha complained.

Madara then began shedding his clothes right on the floor, and Hashirama noticed how the beads of sweat that stood out on his skin glistened in the fading sunlight. The poor Senju was left uncomfortably shifting his legs under the table.

Madara noticed Hashirama's gesture and drew in close; a wolf going in for the kill. And the blood coursing through Hashirama's veins was so boiling. He was sure Madara could smell him.

"But, do you know what would be even hotter?" An obscene borderline maniacal grin began to spread over Madara's face.

Hashirama settled back in his chair, and Madara took that gesture as an invitation. The Uchiha draped over him as a bird of prey would; he was clearly marking his territory. The Senju gasped at the sudden sensation of pleasant friction.

A lump had grown in Hashirama's throat. He frowned.

"This isn't making me feel cool."

Madara quirked an eyebrow. "Well then, maybe, you should undress too," he nearly purred.

Hashirama growled as a pair of hands roamed under his yukata.

Yes. It was becoming a very hot evening indeed.

The Senju couldn't wait until winter just so that he could throw the Uchiha in the snow.
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