For @flashfictionfridayofficial Warm Hands and @madatobiweek Day 6: Confessions!

Fandom: Naruto

Tobirama/Madara

wc: 523

It's winter, and Tobirama is cold. Madara isn't. It's just not fair, but it all works out for Tobirama’s benefit in the end.

It was the coldest day of winter so far—thick frost on the windows and coating every branch of every tree in Konoha. To Madara, it was just another day to wear a much-too-light-for-the-weather mantle. Tobirama, with his boots, thick pants, sweater, haori, and extra fur swathed self, stared at him with incredulous disbelief. He also had the passing wish that his primary affinity was fire, rather than water. Oh, he could use fire, but it did not run through his chakra coils and keep him warm through the winter. (He thought it was probably the other way during the summer, but he wasn't interested in being fair right now.)

Tobirama took up his brush and began his morning's work of revising the academy plans that he'd discussed with lzuna and Nara Shikataro yesterday. If he managed to submerge his total attention into his work, he might be able to pretend he wasn't chilly.

It didn't really work today.

By midmorning he was working on the section detailing teacher qualifications and training. In a moment, when his brush was moved to the side for re-inking, a cup of steaming tea appeared in the middle of his field of view.

“Senju, I can see you shivering from across the hall. Take a break and warm your hands up.”

Tobirama jolted out of his semi-trance and looked up to see Madara standing right in front of his desk. He also noticed that Madara was right about the shivers, though they weren't so bad as to affect his writing.

Tobirama cleaned off his brush, then reached out to cradle the teacup in his hands. The heat radiated through the ceramic into his hands, then up his arms. The first sip started heating him from the inside out. Except… it wasn't just the heat from the cup and the tea warming him—just Madara's presence in his office was raising the temperature of the room.

Tobirama sighed in appreciation.

“Thank you.”

Then his mouth betrayed his better judgement. “You should move your desk in here. Keep me warm all winter.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he looked up in alarm. Madara was smirking at him. Tobirama dropped his head to his desk and groaned—but kept his hands cradling the tea. Damn it. From his reticent self, that was as good as a confession. He could only hope that Madara didn't know him well enough yet to realize it.

No such luck. Tobirama could imagine, in great detail, how Madara's smirk grew. He imagined that he would hear it in his voice, too.

“I'd be delighted.”

Tobirama’s head snapped up—that was more of a purr than a smirk. The look on Madara's face matched, too. No smirk, but smile, and his eyes were almost on fire. Tobirama wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but he thought the temperature of the room leapt up when his eyes met Madara's.

“Then I suppose we'd better get you moved in…”

“No need to mention this to our brothers…”

Tobirama paused, imagining the drama such information would unleash. He shuddered.

“Most definitely not.”

Summary: Iruka can't sleep because that baby won't stop crying. Not because he misses his mom and dad and home.

wc: 756

Iruka hated these nights—the dark ones, the cold ones, the lonely ones. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. The room was full of other boys, but he was alone. Inside and all around was the dark, gaping hole where his parents and the warmth of their home should be.

And that baby who wouldn't stop crying!

He rolled over in the bed, the rough bedding an irritation against his skin—he wanted his own bed, the soft sheets and blankets with their familiar patterns—and mashed the pillow over his head to try and drown out the sound.

It didn't work.

Iruka wanted to scream.