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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fanfiction · #2001994
Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama are stuck in a snowy mountain.
Snow crunched beneath his feet and blood leaked out of his wound and down his fingers to drip scarlet on the pristine snow. Madara growled softly and clutched his wounded side tighter. He was covered in bleeding wounds, but the one on his side was the worse. “I don't see why you won't let me heal it,” Hashirama said. He was standing a few feet before him, long hair dancing lazily in the frigid mountain wind.

“I don't need your help,” Madara growled. “Let's just keep walking. We should find someone from our clans sooner or later.”

“It's a blizzard. They are probably all hunkered down and waiting out the storm. Nobody can fight in this weather.”

“The Yuki clan does.”

“The Yuki clan is use to it. They are a clan utilizing ice style ninjutsu.”

“Hn,” Madara just glared at Hashirama, his eyes their dark grey color, too tired to keep his Sharingan activated. Plus, he was currently focusing on circulating fire nature chakra through his keirakukei to warm himself. It was a taxing trick he created, but so far it was keeping him warm enough.

“You're losing too much blood,” Hashirama pointed out when Madara started to walk again. “Let me just stop the bleeding and close it up for you a bit.” Madara said nothing and walked pass Hashirama. “Madara!”

“I don't want your help, I don't need it.”

“Stop being so stubborn!” Hashirama shouted as he walked after Madara. “You'll die and then how will you protect Izuna!”

At that comment, Madara spun around, his Sharingan spinning angrily in his eyes, the pattern was different, it was his Mangekyou; even more taxing for his already weaken and injured body. “I will not die!” Madara snarled, straightening his spine, “I will protect Izuna at all costs! And I will do—” he grunted, swayed and fell to one knee, gasping breath coming out in icy little puffs.

“You are going to die. I cut you pretty deeply. I may have nicked a few of your organs,” Hashirama said as he ran up to the Uchiha. “If you don't let me treat that wound you will die.”

Madara looked up at Hashirama stubbornly, but he soon dropped his other knee and nearly fell face first into the cold snow, if he didn't catch himself. “Stop being a damn fool, Madara,” Hashirama said and knelt in the snow. “Let me treat you.”

“...Fine,” Madara finally relented. He pushed himself back onto his heals before undoing the obi at his waist. Every movement caused his wound to ooze more blood. Madara finally removed his shirt, blood and cuts marred his creamy skin. Hashirama ignored the tantalizing view, summoned the medical chakra to his palms and pressed them against the great big gash. Madara hissed, biting his lip as the healing ninjutsu took effect. “Don't heal it all the way... I want to keep the scar.”

“Are you serious?” Hashirama asked, looking at him.

“Have I ever not been serious?”

“I have nothing to stitch it together. I'm going to heal it all the way. But I'll try to guide the cells into forming scar tissue.”

“Hn.”

“Damn stubborn Uchiha,” Hashirama muttered under his breath. Madara shot him a look but didn't say anything. It took only a half hour for Hashirama to heal Madara's wound, making sure the tissue healed into a thick ropy scar. It was slightly pink when he was done, and Madara lightly ran his fingers over it. He shivered at the sensation.

“It's sensitive,” he commented, in an absent sort of way.

“Yes, it probably will always be sensitive. Wounds healed by medical ninjutsu don't normally leave scars.”

“Hn,” Madara put his shirt back on and tied the obi around his waist. Hashirama could see his handing work, being dyed crimson, through the slash in Madara's shirt.

“Now what?” Hashirama asked.

“We get off this damn mountain, like we were doing before you insisted on stopping and healing me.”

“You were pale as the snow! You would've been dead before anyone found us.”

“Let's just get going. I might start trying to kill you again if we keep arguing.”

“You know that neither you nor I have enough chakra left for a fight.”

“I can still use taijutsu,” Madara gave Hashirama a nasty grin. The Senju just sighed tiredly, before getting to his feet. He offered his hand to Madara, but the Uchiha batted it away and stood up on his own. “Let's go,” he said and walked towards the vast grey-white horizon.



*



They didn't know how long they walked, but the blizzard wasn't letting up and they were completely lost. “We should find shelter!” Hashirama bellowed over the wind. Madara ignored him. “I can create a house using my mokuton. We can wait the storm out.”

“And you expect me to stay in a house built from your chakra?” Madara arched a brow. “And I thought you were too tired to use ninjutsu.”

“I am! But I have a little bit left.”

“Really?” Madara grinned nastily.

“Madara,” Hashirama sighed tiredly. He really didn't want to fight. He was cold, his toes were freezing. He was diverting chakra to his feet to ward off frostbite, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep that up. Plus, he was hungry. He tuned out Madara's chatter, as he searched for a soldier pill. He found it and pressed it to his lips, before realizing that would increase his chakra volume and Madara would instantly sense the spike and press for a fight. He returned the soldier pill to his pouch.

He was about to respond to Madara, when he heard the screech of monkeys. “Madara, shh.”

“Don't you dare—”

“Madara, shut up!” Hashirama hissed, adding a bit of chakra to his words. Madara fell silent. “You hear that?” Hashirama asked.

“No...” Madara tilted his head towards the direction Hashirama was facing. “Yes... I do actually. Sounds like monkeys.”

“Yes!” A wild gleam sparkled in Hashirama's eyes. “Monkeys.”

“I don't understand why you are getting all excited about a bunch of apes.”

“Because!” Hashirama stated as if Madara should logically know the answer.

“That's not an answer!”

“Because the mountain monkeys of this region use hot springs to keep warm!” Hashirama grabbed Madara's wrist. “If we find the monkeys, we find the hot springs, and we can keep warm until this storm lets up and we can get back to our clans.” Hashirama said as he trampled through the snow covered forest, dragging Madara along.

“I'm not getting naked with you!”

“Fine,” Hashirama shot of his shoulder, “you can freeze.”

Madara didn't say anything, but he did pull his wrist free and followed Hashirama. They trotted through the forest until they came out on the other side. “Look there,” Hashirama pointed, Madara followed his gaze and saw the tawny heads of the monkeys. Madara shivered a bit, seeing that the monkey faces eerily reminded him of humans. Their fur was speckled with fluffy white flakes and they seemed happy enough to laze about in the warm water. “Hold on,” Hashirama stated, before clasping his hands together. The earth rumbled and there was the cracking sound of wood; Madara bent his knees as a thick branch lifted them up to the ledge. The monkeys screeched, baring their fangs before the troop scrambled out of the water and up into the nearby cliff face. They stared angrily at Hashirama and Madara with dark eyes as the two stepped off the branch and to the ledge where the hot spring was located.

“Can't you feel that heat?” Hashirama asked to Madara who was walking off in the direction the monkeys took. “Madara?”

“I told you, I have no interest in getting in there with you.” Madara said, before tilting his head up to stare at the monkey troop. They stared back at him. The babies clung to the back of their mothers, and the young males inched closer to him, determine to prove their worth to the troop's elders. Madara flashed his Sharingan and peeled back his lips. The monkeys squeaked and retreated farther up the mountainside.

“Madara, stop terrorizing the monkeys,” Hashirama said. Madara turned to reply, but he was stuck dumb when he saw Hashirama. The Senju was standing completely naked save for his white loincloth around his hips, the snowflakes that were landing on his skin were melting and little rivulets of water trickled down his skin. Madara felt heat rush to his cheeks and his groin.

“What are you doing?!” he snapped, glad to use his frustration with the man before him to not focus on what he would rather being doing to him.

“Getting into the hot spring.” Hashirama said, squatted and pressed his hand against the ground. There was a rumble of the earth for a moment before Hashirama removed his hand. “There.” He said and got in. By the looks of it, Hashirama created a small shelf for him to sit on, for his body was submerged up to his neck.  “C'mon in Madara, the water is wonderful.”

“I told you, I won't get in.”

“I made enough room for two to sit,” Hashirama said innocently.

“I'm not getting in!” Madara snarled. Hashirama's shoulders slumped, he made a sad sound but didn't say anything more.




*




It had been a few hours and Hashirama will admit that he dozed off at some point and only woke up to the sound of chattering teeth. The monkeys were still watching the ninja duo from a safe distance, but the monkeys weren't making the sound. It was Madara. He had his arms wrapped around himself, stamping his feet to get blood to circulate and his teeth were chattering. His lips were tinted blue and his skin was unnaturally pale. “Madara!” Hashirama swam to the edge near Madara. “Get in now! You're lips are blue!”

“I-I-I r-r-refuse!” Madara bit out through his clattering teeth, and lifted his chin just a bit higher.

“Madara!”

“N-No!”

“You'll die!”

“I don't want to get in with you.” He growled. “I'll be fine.”

“Don't make me drag you in!” Hashirama grabbed the ledge of the hot spring and was about to pull himself out when Madara gave a reluctant huff.

“Fine,” he said, rubbing his biceps. “I'll get in.” He shuffled towards the other side, and was about to take off his clothes when he felt Hashirama's eyes on him. “Don't watch me!” he growled.

Hashirama chuckled. “Why? You have the same issue like you do with someone standing behind you while you piss?”

“I have no problem stripping in front of someone,” Madara said with as much dignity as he could muster, “it's just I refuse to strip while you're watching!”

“Oh...” Hashirama nodded, “fair enough.” He looked away and listened to as Madara grumbled the entire time he took his clothes off. There was a splash and a rather content sigh, before Hashirama decided he was safe enough to look, alas Madara was no where to be found. Hashirama frowned until Madara's head broke the surface, hair wet and matted to his face. The unruly spikes looked like wilted flowers almost. Hashirama smiled and swam back to the ledge and sat next to his friend.

Madara scooted away before relaxing in the warm water. “I told you the water's nice.”

“Shut up Senju,” Madara growled, eyes closed, lips and cheeks now a rosy pink. Hashirama swallowed loudly before looking away. Madara cracked an eye open to watch Hashirama, but when the Senju didn't do anything interesting he closed it again, just listening to the sounds of nature as he warmed up.

Around this time, the ever watchful monkeys began to gather their courage and inch down towards the hot spring. Hashirama watched them in the manner of someone watching birds. The monkeys watched him as they walked across the snow, until they reached the their clothes. A monkey grabbed Madara's obi, chattered to it's fellows before scampering off with it. “Hey!” Hashirama shouted, lunging at the animals. The monkeys squeaked, grabbing clothes.

“What is it Hashirama?” Madara asked, opening his eyes, a bit irked his nap was ruined.

“The monkeys are stealing our clothes!” Hashirama shouted as he scrambled out of the water after a monkey that had taken his shirt.

“Fuck!” Madara shouted, coming fully alter. He climbed out of the water as well and began to chase the monkeys with their clothes.

They didn't get very far before the winter cold bit their nearly naked bodies with it's savage teeth. They yelped when they finally registered the cold. Hashirama skedaddled back to the hot water, jumped in and shivered until the water banished the cold. Madara tried to ignore the cold but the younger monkeys thought this was a came and began throwing snowballs at him. He tried to weave the signs for the Hosenka jutsu to counter the monkeys' snowballs, but his hands were trembling from the cold. So, he admitted defeat and treated to the hot water with Hashirama.

The two ninja glowered at the monkeys, as the animals tried on their clothes, screeched at each other before ultimate playing tug-of-war with their garments and ripping them.

“Well,” Madara said, “there goes our clothes.”

“Now what do we do?”

“The answer is clear, you need to go and get help.”

“Me?” Hashirama's eyes grew wide. “Why me?”

“It was your dumb idea to climb into their hot spring.”

“We're warm right?”

“And our clothes got ripped to shreds by monkeys!” Madara snarled.

“Oh, don't be like that,” Hashirama tore his gaze away from the gleefully screeching monkeys to stare at his friend. “Everything will be okay.” Hashirama said and reached for Madara but the other man pulled away. “Why are you being like that?” Hashirama asked.

“Being like what?” Madara asked matter-of-factly.

“Being standoffish.”

“Aren't I always?”

“Well... erm... uhm...” Hashirama rubbed his head. “I guess...”

“So why is it bothering you?”

“Well, erm,” Hashirama looked away, fidgeting with his fingers. Madara studied his rival, before his eyes widened as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. He burst into laughter.

“You?” Madara laughed. “And here I thought you had a thing for the Uzumaki princess!”

“What?” Hashirama's cheeks turned red at the implication. “N-No! I... I really like you... well... like seems too weak of a word...” Hashirama stammered.

“Oh, gods this is rich!” Madara tossed his head back, clutching his stomach as he continued to laugh at Hashirama's expense. The Senju felt the indignant color rise in his cheeks and moved towards Madara, determine to shut him up.

Madara opened his eyes in time to see the ridiculous face of his friend. He's gonna kiss me! Madara thought in a panic and punched Hashirama in the gut. The Senju grunted and slumped into the water.

“What... what was that for?” Hashirama gasped.

“You know damn well what that was for!” Madara snarled, some pink tinting his cheeks. He couldn't... wouldn't acknowledge his own forbidden feelings for the man next to him. He scooted away a bit from Hashirama, and ignored Hashirama's beaten puppy look.

“I'm sorry,” Hashirama muttered after a few moments.

Madara didn't say anything, just simply allowed the air and monkey chatter to fill the awkward silence. “It's just that I rea—”

“Don't.” Madara bit out curtly, it took all his will power not to look at the other man. “Just don't.”

“But...”

“We can't.”

“Madara...”

“Hashirama,” Madara stiffly turned his head to stare at the Senju. “We can't.”

“If we gave it a chance then...”

“I won't risk Izuna's life.”

“But...”

“No.” Madara said as his fingers found Hashirama's beneath the water. “We can't. It's forbidden. You are from the Senju and I'm from the Uchiha.” He squeezed Hashirama's fingers tightly.

“Right,” Hashirama nodded, squeezing Madara's fingers in return. “It's forbidden.”
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