I took a long, long time to get ready.

I washed my hair and even shaved my legs for him. I scrubbed myself and used a lotion. I put oil in my hair and blow-dried it until it was shiny and smooth. All of this to force Hashirama to wait.

Then, I stood looking at myself in the mirror before I took a deep breath and put the dress on.

It suited my tall body perfectly. The white silk with red details clung to me in a way that felt fantastic, and I even put on the matching headpiece. It was incredibly well-made, and it felt as if it had been made for me. With any other man, I would have felt ridiculous, but not with Hashirama. With him, I felt lovely, beautiful, taken care of.

My heart was pounding as I went out of the bathroom to meet the one who had gifted me the dress I loved so much. Hashirama was seated exactly where I had left him, and he didn't move a muscle when I came out, not even to look at me. A delicious wave of frustration hit me at this; I wanted him to see me.

"Come", he said. "Stand on front of me."

I did, but I didn't dare to meet his eye. I looked to the side and blushed the way that was so familiar to me now any time Hashirama dominated me.

But of course, Hashirama wouldn't have it that way.

"Look at me", he said. I tried, but couldn't. "Look at me!!"

I jerked and looked at him in pure shock of him screaming at me. He had never screamed at me before. In his eyes I saw a blinding rage that violently complimented the shyness I was feeling.

"Hashi..." I whispered.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes", I answered, my voice a whisper still.

My legs were trembling. He had fucked me up at work and left me dissatisfied, and now, he kept toying with me. Never had any man made me this aroused with just his eyes and his ability to make me wait.

"Good boy. Now, twirl."

"What-" I began before I could think.

Hashirama slammed his hand in the table.

"Do as I say, Madara", he said with venom. I obeyed. "Beautiful."

"Thank you, Sir."

I gasped at my use of the word; it felt so intimate. But Hashirama just smirked.

"Come to me."

I did, and as I approached, he reached his hand out towards me. When I took it, he guided me so I was standing in between his legs, and he started caressing the outsides of my thighs.

"I have no underwear", I murmured with a blush.

"The way I like it."

To my great shame, his caresses made me leak, and I squirmed beneath his touch as a trail of pre-cum ran down my thigh to his hand. When he felt how wet I was, he smirked darkly, and I closed my eyes.

"No, look at me", he said, and when I did, I saw he had the sticky liquid between his fingers and was showing it off for me.

The gesture was so intimate that I sat down in his lap and hid my face in his neck.

He immediately grabbed me beneath my thighs, started kissing my collarbones, biting a bit.

"On your knees for me. I want you to suck my dick."

I did as he said, but I didn't take him into my mouth immediately. Instead, I licked at the lightning bolt tattoos over his hips, tracing the delicate lines with my tongue.

"Ahh, Madara..." Hashirama groaned, leaning back with his arms stretched over the back of the couch so that his opened short opened up even more, showing off his chiselled chest. At that moment, he was so much of H, and I was so much of M that I felt a disconnection regarding the rest of the world.

"Mmm", I said as I kissed his stomach all the way to his cock, and obediently opened my mouth to take him in.

I worked so, so hard for him. Harder than I had ever worked for anyone. Making a man come with only your mouth was a tough task even for me, but after working a while, I had him at that delicious spot where I could force him close to the edge, only to force him back to a place of agony the second after.

I took him back and forth until he was wailing in desperation, trembling, hitting his hand against the back of the couch over and over. Then, when he had finally had enough of my shit, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulled me up, and forced me into our bedroom.

Not that he would have needed to use force; at this stage, I would have followed him to death willingly. 

There, he threw me on my back on the bed and undressed himself on his lower body, keeping his shirt on. He let the dress stay put on me, of course, and I didn't mind. Actually, I would have minded a lot if he had taken it off me.

He put my legs on his shoulders and pushed himself in. I saw how harshly he was working not to come immediately. But I was desperate, not having come today the way he had, so in the end, I took over, pushing him down so I could sit on top of him and start riding him, jumping him. I took his hands and used them for leverage and moved in waves over him until I came screaming.

When he tried to force me on all four, I put my lips over his mouth.

"What-" he began.

"No", I said. "Be a good doctor and listen to your nurse. I want you in my power tonight."

And I sat off him and left him cursing in frustration alone in our bedroom. 

That night was exactly as delicious as I had wanted it to be.

Of course, I wore my nurse's outfit for the entire night. Hashirama walked after me like a dog, but I kept refusing him what he wanted, which was me.

While I cooked us dinner, he was hugging me from behind, caressing every part of me, breathing hotly into my ear, begging me to fuck him; begging me to let him fuck me.

I didn't. Instead, we had our dinner in silence. I ate agonisingly slowly, just for him.

When he finished, he sat opposite me, staring me down as I finished my potato salad. I still didn't hurry, played the fork slowly with my tongue.

"You're driving me insane", he said through gritted teeth

And just then, I finished my last potato, so I stood up, went to him, sat down in his lap with one leg on either side, and pulled his zipper down.

"I know", I said.

I was still wearing no underwear beneath my dress, so I just sunk down on him and started jumping. Hashirama screamed out in surprise, and I put a harsh hand over his mouth while I pulled at his hair to force his neck back with the other.

"I'm your sex toy", I said while staring him down. "You're dirty fucking slave, at your disposal."

It took me ten seconds of jumping his dick and dirty talking to make him come, and he did so messily, filling me up so I felt him run down my thighs to my knees.

"I love you", I said, kissing him on the lips. "I love you."

But Hashirama was somewhere far, far away in his mind.

Hashirama didn't tell me his secret until it was too late.

I would never understand why he didn't just tell me. I hadn't nagged him about it because... Well, I wanted to say it was because I trusted him, which I did, I swear, but mostly it was because I didn't want him to see me as someone who nagged. I was ashamed to confess I wanted him to see me as someone who was not like other boys.

And I blames myself for what happened. If I had just swallowed some of my pride and asked him, we would have been spared. But of course, the fault was truly his, and he knew that.

The relationship between us blossomed. We lived happily together. We went on dates. Waited for one another after work and lectures to fuck or make love or just hang out, whatever we felt like that day. We went grocery shopping together. Took turns feeding Schrödinger.

It was on one of our dates Hashirama realised he fucked up. It was approaching Christmas, and we were walking towards Rockefeller Center to look at the Christmas tree, a paper mug of hot chocolate each in our hands. I was enjoying the freedom of walking without being stopped by fans every few steps, even if a few recognised me. All in all, I was very happy, and from the kisses Hashirama stole from me, I could tell he was happy, too.

But then, just before the tree would come into view, me craning my neck to see it as soon as possible like a giddy child, we were stopped by someone. But this time, it wasn't me who was stopped. This time, it was Hashirama.

"Hashi."

I jerked, not realising what had caused my reaction was my subconscious disliking that someone else used my nickname on him. Hashirama stopped dead as well.

"Oh..."

In front of us was a woman, a pretty woman with reddish blonde hair, who was pushing a stroller in front of her.

The two seemed to have become mute, so I tried to be polite, something I regretted later. I wished I had just told the woman to go fuck herself and leave us to be happy.

"Hi. I'm Madara."

"I'm..." The woman blinked and looked at me, as if just having woken from a dream and noticed me. "I'm Mito. Hashi's ex."

I didn't know Hashi had an ex, but by the was Hashirama blushed, I understood this was part of the secret he had kept from me.

But Hashirama wasn't looking at the woman, nor at me. He was staring at the child in the stroller.

"You..." he began.

I had no idea what he was trying to say, but apparently, she did. Apparently, they shared some sort of secret language I wasn't invited to understand.

"She was born two years ago. She's mine and my husband's."

I didn't like the way she claimed ownership of the baby, as if afraid Hashirama would snatch her. I looked over at him. He wouldn't, would he?

I suddenly felt very unwelcome.

"Hashirama", I said. "I'll wait by the skating rink, looking at the tree."

"Madara, wait-" he tried, but I had already started walking away.

I thought he would spend several minutes catching up with this ex of his, but he came after me not fifteen seconds later, just long enough to say goodbye without any extra anything. I had just sat down on a bench when he sat down next to me, playing with the paper straw in his mug of hot chocolate.

There was an awkward distance between us, a distance I did not understand and didn't like. It hurt my heart, and I guessed it hurt his as well.

But looking at him, I understood that this man has other things hurting his heart as well, other things I had not been given access to.

Until now.

"We met when we were very young, Mito and I", he began explaining. I can just tell him to stop, I thought. I can just tell him to stop right now and spare myself. I didn't. "When we were just past twenty, we realised she was pregnant. Both of us wanted go along with it. We were very happy to have a child together. But one month before the due date, Mito got worried one day when she couldn't feel the girl kick in her belly anymore. So they did an ultrasound and..." Hashirama swallowed, and I understood how much this hurt him. "Her heart wasn't beating anymore."

One part of me wanted to reach out and take Hashirama's hand, but that part was very, very small and stood no chance against the black tar that were preventing my movements.

"The worst part was, she had to give birth to the child. She had to give birth to our dead daughter. She was never the same after that, and we separated. This was the first time I saw her since then. I had no idea she was married and had another daugh- I mean, a daughter."

Hashirama turned towards me and reached his hand out. I didn't take it, not because I wanted to hurt him, but because I didn't want to. I couldn't even look at him.

"I decided then that I could never date a woman again. I'm bisexual, but I choose men. Still choose men. Because then, I cannot be exposed to a pain like this." He turned to me. "The one I love cannot be exposed to a pain like this." But..." I could hear the melancholy smile in his voice. "But I still dream of a child one day."

A million thoughts whirled in my mind then.

So he's with me, a man, just because he's afraid he'll make a woman pregnant? And he still wants a child? How can I ever live up to that if I'm a man and do not have a uterus?

But, most of all...

Does Hashirama not understand how hurtful this is to me?

"Madara, say something."

I could hear fear in his voice, and I realised how much power I held over him in that moment. In a way that was far, far different from the way we exchanged power in the bedroom. This was real. This was me being entirely in control. I could choose to just drop it, move on with our lives. But I seemed physically unable to.

Instead, I stood up, threw my paper mug in the closest bin.

"Let's go home."

I hadn't even looked at the Christmas tree.