If pretending to elope takes this much work, then Madara doesn't want to know what it must be like to actually run off and marry someone.
The story, for anyone with the clearance to know, is that he and Tobirama have gone off to the border of Fire Country in a show of force against anyone who would threaten their burgeoning village. Anyone who looks beneath that will hear the so-called truth -- they're out at the border together, yes, but on the way they're going to stop at a shrine at a shrine and cement their alliance beyond all reasonable doubt.
It's ridiculous, bordering unbelievable, but to their enemies it's a threat that cannot go ignored.
How many birds did Hashirama say we were getting with one stone again? Madara lets himself slump against the wall and glances again around the overly fancy, woefully insecure ryokan room he'd made the unwise decision to choose as their lodging. Supposedly if this works out, it will all be worth it — not only will it lead them to whoever is leaking information out of the mission office, but it will bait out their enemies to be taken care of quite nicely. And if anyone fancies themselves fool enough to attack the village with two of their strongest gone, well, Madara is willing to be pulled along a hirashin jump just this once.
It's just terribly annoying, is all. It had to be them, because the two of them happen to be the most important, most threatening, most unmarried people in the whole village.
As if I would ever marry Tobirama. The man has hardly spoken a word to him in all the days they've been traveling, and that's preferable, because if the two of them are speaking, then they're arguing, and their cover is already weak enough as it is.
There haven't been signs of opposition yet, and so, wordlessly, they've agreed to play a longer gambit. If they act as though nothing is wrong and no one is on to them, their enemies will be more careless. Instead of going to the shrine up the mountain right away, they've spent time and a not inconsiderable amount of coin on a room to lounge around and clean up in. Madara has already bathed, all he has left to do is sit and wait for Tobirama to finish with his damn bath so they can get on with it. Hopefully they'll be attacked before they can even make it to the shrine.
Madara half considers retrieving his pipe to help sell his nonchalance when he catches the barely audible sound of a door sliding open. A presence makes itself known behind him
“Took you long enough--” As he turns to greet Tobirama and realizes what he's seeing, Madara's tongue goes fat in his mouth.
The red lining of the kimono he's wearing is a match for the markings on his face. The layer of white silk on top, embroidered with cranes and waves is by far the fanciest thing Madara has ever seen Tobirama wear. He's even gone so far as to paint his lips red. It suits him.
Who the hell got it in his head that he should wear a bridal kimono?
“Apologies.” Says Tobirama, deadpan, “I don't think I've ever had to tie an obi knot this complicated before.”
As Madara continues to fail and find his words, Tobirama steps out of the room and joins him on the engawa, right into the the sight lines of anyone who might have be watching them.
”I has hoping you would at least allow me this one indulgence for our wedding“ He says, but as his speaks his eyes flicker around, lingering for only the barest moment on a few spots, and — oh, well, that's annoyingly clever of him. The shock of seeing Senju Tobirama all demure and dressed like a bride must have shocked any observers as badly has it had Madara — badly enough that their chakra must have flared and Tobirama was able to pinpoint at least a few of their locations with his sensing.
”Oh, certainly.“ Madara finally gets his mouth in working order, ”I only wish you had warned me. I would have brought a montsuki.”
Tobirama's mouth tugs to the side, into something that's not quite a smile.
“But you hate wearing hakama.”
…Madara does, mostly on account of them being a pain to fight in, though he's not sure when Tobirama picked up on that. A shiromuku must be even worse, but -- well what does he know? Kunoichi have to fight in shit like that and worse all the time, he's sure Tobirama isn't going to let him hinder him.
“...Still.” Madara protests, though he doesn't actually have a real complaint about it. He rolls to his feet, stepping further into Tobirama's personal space than he's ever been before, and is allowed to linger there. “Now I'm under-dressed, and you're here looking all pretty. Let me get a good look at you.”
To his credit, Tobirama does not so much as flinch when Madara activates his sharingan. With it on, Madara can see the way his pulse speeds up, the tension that flits across his frame and is immediately discarded before it can truly show. Perhaps most curious, he also sees the slight blooming of a blush so faint Madara might have missed it without his doujutsu.
He also sees, without looking right at them, the spots in the surrounding forest where the leaves don't rustle quite right. No one was foolish enough to try using a genjutsu, nor is there a single scrap of flesh in direct eyesight, but there are spots here where the foliage looks a bit too thick, and there where some of the leaf litter falls too close to the edge of the garden, and there are only so many places a person can fully conceal themselves while still being able to peek at them. Madara quashes the urge to flush them out. It wouldn't do to scare away anyone they might have missed after putting in all this effort.
Instead he makes a show of looking Tobirama up and down, filling away the image of Tobirama dressed up as his bride for later review. The heat in his eyes isn't even entirely for show -- the man is attractive enough that he's wormed his way into Madara's fantasies a time or two, and this will only add to it, he's sure.
Unfortunately, he doesn't have the time to entertain thoughts like that at the moment. Madara lets his sharingan fade and offers an arm.
"You do clean up nice. Are you ready to go?"
That earns him a scowl, but Tobirama reaches out to rest his grip in the crook of his elbow, as though they're some kind of civilian couple out for a garden stroll. Tobirama's fingers are already tapping out his observations to him in code before they've taken a single step. Four chakra signatures that were disrupted badly enough for him to pinpoint. When combined with what Madara has seen he thinks there must be six, and probably more. He's not too worried about being outnumbered -- a good fight will be exactly what he needs to work off the stress of all this nonsense.
The shrine they're headed to is placed nearly at the peak of the local mountain, though it's not a terribly steep one, and the path up the slope is paved and well maintained; ropes with paper streamers hang crossed over the path to the first torii gate. It's all suitably romantic, so it's no wonder this place is so popular with rich young couples. The rumor goes that for a large enough donation, the resident kami will bless the marriage of any couple who comes to them. Shame that they'll likely end up destroying the ambiance, if not a few buildings.
Tobirama lets himself be led and helped up steep stairs and manages not to look frustrated about it. He even goes so far as to lean into Madara's side during the easiest parts of the climb. Madara could almost let himself be distracted by the heat of their two bodies pressed together from thigh to shoulder, if only this were happening some other time.
They'll have to make absolutely certain they don’t let anyone escape. For the obvious reasons, yes, but also because otherwise there will be all sorts of rumors about how he and Tobirama must have come here because of how madly in love they are or some other nonsense. Tobirama is turning out to be a decent actor for a man who regularly speaks as bluntly as a hammer.
The slope levels out as they bow and pass under the first torii gate and the shrine comes into view. It's not as grand as the one his clan keeps in their own compound, but it's clear that this place gets more than enough donations to keep properly maintained. They're not even the only so-called couple here today, though they'd made an effort to come at a time of day and year when there shouldn't be many visitors; an older couple wanders down the path leaving the shrine, hand in arm not unlike how the two of them are walking now. Their clothes are unpatterned and slightly worn -- if Madara's first assumption wasn't that they were enemies, he would guess that they're farmers or some other working class civilians.
Tobirama's fingers tap out the signal for unknown in the crook of his elbow, and they walk on. Madara's back itches as they nod and pass each other. Perhaps he makes his awareness of them too obvious, or perhaps they're not enemies at all -- though the time they spend washing their hand at the fountain would be a convenient time for them to try it, they do not strike.
The maiden who greets them at the shrine, too, could be an enemy in disguise, and it is a work of intense will for Madara to keep his face schooled into something polite. There's a list of good reasons why he never goes on missions like these if he can help it, his preference for direct confrontation chief among them.
"I hope we haven't come at an inconvenient time." He says with a slight bow, "But we were hoping to use the services of this shrine."
Tobirama's getup means he doesn't have to explain any further. The miko's eyes are sparkling as she bows in return.
"The kami of this shrine offers blessings to all those who come with love in their hearts." She says, "Please, follow me."
The senior priest hems and haws at the idea of performing a wedding so suddenly, up until Madara says the words sizable donation, at which point he turns into a living doormat.
"We're not fussy." He says, "We've even brought our own rice wine. Just as long as the ceremony is done today."
The priest eagerly agrees even to that request, and though he must have his suspicions he doesn't ask deeper or try to dissuade them. The young shrine maiden, though, is as bubbly as she is curious, and Madara ends up lying through his teeth, spinning some nonsense about how they were told the date was auspicious, and Tobirama…
Well, he keeps his mouth shut, which is for the best, but his fingers seem to remain constantly on Madara, always tapping out in code updates on their followers, or worse, his opinion. Which is distracting enough on it's own, but its not just his hands. Even now he sits close enough for their shoulders and thighs to brush, and sure it's probably convincing to the civilians, but the whiplash it makes Madara feel is nearly enough to leave him dizzy. Even for a mission, Madara isn't sure he could bring himself to act as Tobirama is -- he knows himself to be prideful, and thought that the two of them were similar in that respect, but Tobirama lets himself be led to the main shrine without a hint of protest, like letting himself be seen like this isn't even a concern on his mind.
They should be attacked any second now. If their enemy's goal is to stop their alliance, then they need only disrupt the ceremony. If they don't, then killing them becomes their only option, and they must know how impossible of a task that will be.
Incense is lit, offerings are set out and blessed, cups laid out and filled with the rice wine Tobirama had thought to bring along as a precaution, and still, they are not attacked. Not as the priest recites wedding prayers, not as Madara drinks from the cup and offers it to Tobirama, nor the second time, or the third.
Well that’s it, Madara thinks a little hysterically. In the eyes of these people, of this kami, we're married.
It's only really true to the rest of the world if the two of them announce it, and he's certain it will be easy to annul, but Madara suddenly finds himself feeling desperate to raze this whole mountainside to the ground and leave no survivors.
Tobirama, apparently unaffected and, still so dedicated to this drawn out mess of a plan, bows and thanks the shrine tenders for their service. A frown only starts to appear once they're halfway down the mountain, the only hint that he's as disgruntled about this as Madara is.
Pursuit. Is the message tapped out on his arm. Continue as planned.
Madara has half a mind to ignore him, to turn and launch a surprise attack himself, but the next message draws him up short.
Bait.
Yes, that's what all of this has been for, but Tobirama knows that. He must be talking about the immediate situation, and the realization sends a curl of mixed anticipation and dread up his spine.
Either their watchers aren't going to attack at all, and this whole farce has been useless, or they're waiting for the moment when his and Tobirama's guard will be at its lowest. They've just gotten married. The obvious conclusion…
Perhaps they've sold the idea that the two of them have feelings for each other a little too well. Or perhaps one of them slipped and let on that they knew they were being followed and now their enemies are acting appropriately cautious. Either way, if they truly are going to follow this plan through to it's end, they're going to have to make a convincing act of being distracted.
Has he even realized what that means?
Madara turns to look at Tobirama fully once again, the way the kimono he's wearing highlights how trim his waist is, and how the paint on his lips has made it obvious that they are something that could be kissed.
Perhaps if I wanted to really sell it, I'd drag him into the woods and take him right now. If there's going to be rumors they might as well include how well-fucked he is. The thought is certainly arousing, but it would require Tobirama to play along where he so rarely does.
"…What." Tobirama is staring back at him now. Madara lets a grin grow, and if he looks like a letch then it will only sell it better.
"Just looking." He says lightly, but he drops the arm that had up till now been held so formally at their sides down to curl around that suddenly tempting waist. Tobirama's expressions are tiny things, but Madara thinks he sees the track of his mind -- surprise, affront, confusion, and then acceptance, for he does not push Madara off or pull himself away, or even ask what the hell Madara is thinking with those fingers of his.
Yes, Madara thinks he might be starting to get the picture, the way Tobirama's has gone tense under his hands. His thumb rubs a circle into that hip almost mindlessly, feeling the suppressed twitch of muscles with each pass.
They make their way to the foot of the mountain like that, studiously not reacting to the rustle of leaves and the sound of wildlife. Madara only lets go when they reach their rooms, and that only to let Tobirama glance back at him, disgruntled, before scurrying off to set up privacy seals around the edges of the room. They're the simple kind that you might buy in bulk, Madara notes, the ones that only muffle sound, not the all encompassing blackout seals Tobirama might typically use.
Good. He thinks, stalking up to Tobirama where he's bent over placing the final seal tag in a corner. It will look like they're normally cautious, not overly so. And there are plenty of ways to be convincing without making a sound.
Tobirama's shoulders inch towards his ears, and when Madara sinks down and brackets him between his arms, the younger man whirls to face him, faces close enough for their breath to mingle.
"You've been so quiet today, Tobirama." He says, low and teasing, "Surely you must have come up with a plan by now."
Tobirama can not hold his gaze for long, those painted lips of his twist into something discomfited before he forcibly smooths his expression back out.
"…They are waiting for us to consummate." He says, brusque in this as he is in anything. "I suspect they wont reveal themselves fully until then."
Madara does not move from where he looms over Tobirama and sees the way white lashes squeeze closed for a long moment before blinking open to face him.
"If they have a byakugan or something similar, we will need to be close to each other." A possibility they had discussed, since the Hyuuga seem to be quite threatened by the idea of their village, "…And if they have a sensor of any good caliber, we will need to be convincingly aroused."
Convincingly aroused. Of course Tobirama has no appreciation for the romance of it all. Right now, that only makes Madara eager to make him see.
"Well, there's an obvious way to go about doing that, you know." He bullies his way even closer, until their knees knock together.
Tobirama hardly moves. His expression is calculating, but Madara thinks he's never seen the man show nervousness as obviously as his is in this moment. Slowly, he raises a hand, brushes the hair back from Madara's shoulder, and rests it curled around his neck. There is no pressure there, but there's a warning in the callouses of those fingertips that there easily could be.
"We could just go out right now and start hunting them down." Madara offers. Tobirama scoffs.
"I still haven't managed to pinpoint an exact number." Tobirama says, eyebrows furrowed, "If they attack us in this room, they will be marked enough for me to track. So we need to lure them in here."
…Not a store bought security seal, then.
"… So we do." Madara agrees. Then he leans in and presses a kiss to those painted lips.
The fact that they remain stiff and unmoving under his isn't surprising, and Madara pulls back after only a moment.
"You've been acting well so far." He teases lowly, "Surely you understand how important it is you relax."
The scowl that gets him in return is absolutely scathing, but rather than making him irritated like it usually does, the look only sparks the fire in Madara even higher. The chance to take Tobirama apart -- to make a point of it, when they might be attacked at any moment --
Well, danger always has gotten his blood running hot.
"Tell me, Tobirama. What sort of things do you like?" Madara leans in again, catches that narrow jaw with one hand so he can run a thumb across the marking on his chin. He thought he might have to hold it there, to make Tobirama face him, but the man seems stubbornly determined to do that all on his own.
"Assuming you're referring to my bedroom preferences, I have no idea. I've never bothered to experiment."
That makes Madara pause for just a blink. So blunt, and so shameless. Maybe he should have taken the opportunity in the woods, after all. What a strange design of fate, to have him stumble into a situation where he suddenly has a virginal wife to take care of.
"Well you'll just have to figure it out as we go then, hm?" He moves his hand down to dip beneath the collar of those white robes and Tobirama's entire body twitches. This time, when Madara leans in for a kiss, Tobirama, determined -- and badly -- kisses back.
But it seems that he's open to feedback for once, and Tobirama Senju is a notoriously fast learner. The fingers resting on Madara's neck flex when he brings his tongue into the equation, but it's in surprise, not a warning, because they slacken just as fast. Interestingly, the more they kiss, the more willing Tobirama seems to be to let Madara take the lead -- when he tilts Tobirama's chin to get a better angle he is met with no resistance.
Another twitch as his hand moves lower. Madara pulls because he wants to get a good look at his reaction. The sight is somehow better than he imagined possible -- Tobirama, panting, pristine robes rumpled and pulled far enough apart that long swathe of pale shoulder and chest is exposed. Perhaps best of all is the red flush creeping up his neck and ears -- and it only grows darker when those pretty red eyes roam over Madara's face and lock on his lips.
Madara's fingers find a nipple and earn him a sharp intake of breath. Those fingers flex again and Tobirama turns away, eyes fluttering closed.
"I-- Keep doing that." Tobirama demands, but he's a undercut by the way his voice hitches. When his eyes open again they stay downcast, not on Madara's face, but on the way he has his hands on Tobirama's body. When Madara rolls the bud between his fingers, there's another small shock and a harsh breath that is cut off before it can finish.
Why didn't I ever think to try this before? Madara wonders as he does what Tobirama asked for, reveling in the sight of the other man biting his lip. His chest will probably be sensitive for days after this. This is much better than screaming at each other.
He looks down, too, catalogs the stupidly complicated obi knot and decides it's just too much trouble for the moment. His other hand finds Tobirama's ankle instead (another twitch -- is he really so sensitive?) and traces his fingertips up and up one of those long legs, until the robes are hiked up to his knees and his hand goes beneath them to the smooth flesh of Tobirama's thigh.
Shaky fingers tap on his neck -- code -- enemy action west -- though it takes Madara half a moment longer than it should to understand, given his distraction. He doesn't stop, though; no reason to let anyone get suspicious.
He finds the fundoshi underneath all the formal layers, and when he palms at it Tobirama ducks to hide his expression in his shoulder. An audible inhale, a pointed glance out of the corner of his eye. Madara grins.
When he squeezes the growing heat under his hand Tobirama gasps outright, curls in on himself, and a hand flies out to squeeze at the wrist of the hand still on his chest. A sharp turn of his head towards the far wall, and Madara moves.
He only needs one hand sign to make a fireball as big as the room that they're in, so when the far wall crumples and a squad of shinobi pours in, they immediately meet a wall of fire. But burns aren't fast killers, and fire is a deterrent, not an assassination tool. Madara leaps in on his on jutsu's tail, sharingan whirling to life. Without his gunbai, his scythe, or a blade longer than a kunai, Madara uses his hands. Snapping the neck of one attacker is disappointingly easy, wrenching the sword out of another's hand and running it through their chest is like playing with a doll.
But that's just the advantage being prepared gives them. This squad does actually seem to have been prepared for their tactics, if not their actual level of ability. Pillars of earth sprout up through the floor in an attempt at a cage around him, but they're stopped before Madara actually has to do anything about them. Tobirama appears at his shoulder, spitting water bullets with enough force to pierce another shinobi through.
He makes quite the sight -- his kimono is all in disarray, practically hanging off of one shoulder on one side, and exposing a great deal of his legs on the other. The lip paint he'd surprised Madara with early in the day is smudged so prettily, and the flush on the back of his neck remains even though his expression is now the usual focus he might wear in battle. It's a good look. A very good luck, and Madara will remember it forever, now.
Finally one of their enemies does something interesting and tosses down a bag that explodes with a bright flash, forcing Madara's eyes closed. It's a tactic that gets tried out every now and again, by fools who don't realize that the sharingan recovers from that sort of shock far faster than normal eyes ever could. Not to mention the fact that most Uchiha, Madara included, take pains to learn how to fight when blinded given how often their eyes are targeted.
A net of sensory chakra cast to get locations, a fuuton strong enough to cut through the beams of the roof and knock any projectiles out of the air, a grunt, and Madara shunshins close to grab at a limb and pull the attacked body into his foot. The body goes stumbling towards Tobirama's location and another chakra signature winks out.
Madara opens his eyes. Tobirama had kunai hidden somewhere under those wedding robes of his and has stuck it under one of the shinobi's ribs. They should probably try and leave at least one person alive to confirm who sent them, but Madara's having a little too much fun to bother with worrying about that at the moment.
The initial confrontation only takes a few moments; with four dead in the initial assault without either him or Tobirama having to use the techniques they're known for, Madara can see the re-calculation and dawning horror in the eyes of his enemies. Already, two of the three remaining are jumping back to either retreat or regroup. They must have underestimated Madara's willingness to let that happen about as badly as they did his combat prowess.
A wordless glance to Tobirama, lit by the evening sun and the fires of their ruined room, white kimono still gaping, proof of Madara's touch smeared across his entire body; if Madara wasn't enchanted already he would be now. Tobirama looks him over in return and must find what he's looking for. He gives him a tiny nod, and leaps after them in pursuit.
He's still blushing. Madara laughs and follows.
The chase goes through the woods, where Madara and Tobirama have even more of an advantage, and lasts only a few minutes. Madara does end up leaving the last one alive -- trapped in a genjutsu, to be questioned by someone with a little more finesse once they bring him back to Konoha. All told, it was as disappointingly simple as the supposed ambush and fight that came before it. But -- perhaps it wasn't a total loss, Madara considers, glancing at Tobirama as he finally takes the time to adjust his still-spotless kimono into something a little more presentable. They caught the enemy, but more importantly, Madara learned something new. Something that wasn't a possibility before has folded open into new opportunities right in front of him.
Tobirama glances up at him and narrows his eyes. Madara grins back.
He's always been good at making use of those.