"I'm so proud of you, brother!" Hashirama said, wrapping an arm around Tobirama's shoulders and squeezing him firmly; Tobirama cringed slightly, not so much at the pressure of his brother's affectionate hug on his scraped-raw lovebites as at the closeness of his brother to his yet-unbathed body and mouth. Proud? Tobirama thought with faintly disgusted confusion. "Love is truly the only way to move forwards; not just peace with our once-enemies but taking them into our hearts!"

Tobirama gave a weak smile and slid away as Hashirama's hands came perilously close to the hidden marks on his neck from Madara's fingers. It's not love, he thought, body throbbing with mostly-pleasurable aches and mind's eye recalling the flat, ugly look in Madara's eyes as they parted, still breathless and slick with sweat and come. It never will be and that's not what I want out of him. He didn't say it, though, looking at his brother's cheerfully ignorant, willful face.