I woke up to the soft man snoozing next to me in the morning sun.

Somewhere in the night, I had turned so I lay on my right side, and Madara was hugging me from behind. I saw the matte glitter on his nails reflect the sun as his hands rested on my abdomen, hidden beneath the fabric of my T-shirt. Having his body so close to mine made me wake up rock-hard, and I blushed a little at the thought of him noticing.

Speaking of noticing...

I grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it down, scared I would reveal the tattoos of the lightning bolts by accident.

I'm not ready to come out as H just yet...

It was seven am, and I guessed Madara would like to sleep some more, so I took the spare card to his hotel room, went to mine to change, then went to the hotel gym, the only people being there at this hour either dedicated gym-goers or jet-lagged people who needed something to do as people in this new time zone slept.

I lifted weights for an hour and ran for thirty minutes before going back to Madara, my body aching by the absence of him. It struck me that the two of us would have met like this even if H and M had never spoken, and I wondered if we would have gone all the way then; actually fucked. 

Probably. 

Would I love him like this, though...

I went to my room to fetch my protein powder, which I had brought with me to this trip like a sucker, then went back to Madara's room. He was still snoozing, looking awfully cute cocooned in the duvet, a slight frown on his face making me suspect he was currently dreaming, and thus sleeping lightly.

I had forgotten my shaker, I realised, and looked around me. The glasses standing next to the very big minibar were all used, I noticed, so I started opening some cabinets to find a mug or, even better, a shaker Madara had brought. Didn't he seem the type to bring one abroad?

Not once did it strike me that I might come across something private, that I might be sticking my nose in someone else's business. But in one cabinet, I saw something that were, apparently, not meant for my eyes. A small plastic bag. Hidden, but only half-heartedly, containing a white powder. My first thought was that it was stevia, which was the reason I took it out to have a closer look. At home, I usually added stevia to my protein shakes to try to make them more palatable to me, and for one split second, I thought Madara did the same, only he needed it badly enough to actually bring some of it over the Atlantic.

This is not stevia, sweetheart. This is-

"Hashi."

I jerked and turn ed to the bed, where Madara was now very much awake.

I knew I hadn't been snooping around. I knew I had found his cocaine by accident. Even so, I knew the look on my face was one of incredible guilt.

"Madara, I'm sorry, I was looking for a mug for my protein powder, I thought this was-"

"Leave."

He didn't sound mean or mad. Instead, there were tears in his eyes, and his voice cracked, and he looked down to the side, not wanting to meet my eye.

He's ashamed. He's ashamed of his addiction.

"Please, Madara, let me-"

"Leave!!"

He turned and looked at me with passion, with an anger I felt was directed to himself rather than at me.

I looked at him searchingly then, trying to find meaning behind his eyes. Do you really want me to leave? Or do you just want to see if I'll actually stay?

I thought about what H would do. H would definitely, without a doubt, respect every word that came out of M's mouth. He would trust M to take responsibility of exactly what he said, not trying to read some underlying meaning behind it.

"Okay", I said.

Then, I turned and left, just like Madara had asked me.

I didn't see him again during the trip, and went back to New York alone.

I was a person who unpacked as soon as I got home from the airport, no matter what time it was. I emptied the laundry bag into my laundry, put my extra pair of shoes on the shelf, put back the unused socks (why did I always pack socks as if I would destroy every pair after an hour?) into their drawer and so on.

It was only afternoon in New York, but I was yawning, used to a different time zone after one week. Fortunately, traveling west, like I had done now, would be easier as I would only have to stay awake for a bit longer rather than going to bed before I was sleepy, which had taken some days to adjust to when I arrived in Spain.

I put on White Lies on speaker and sang with them as I walked around, which would have been a blast to anyone listening as I didn't know one single word since Madara had presented them to me only a day ago, watering my plants that had done pretty well without me. But then, the music stopped, and I had an incoming phone call.

M.

I felt my heart clench out of happiness that Madara wasn't mad at me. But then, I remembered.

This isn't Madara calling Hashirama. This is M calling H. He clearly hadn't figured out it was me yet, even if I had the feeling the thought had struck him.

I picked up without video; I wasn't ready to be a camboy for him just yet. 

"Hello?"

To my great horror, Madara was scream-crying down the phone.

"Oh, dear. Oh, gorgeous."

I stopped everything I was doing and sat down on my couch. Madara tried to say something, but didn't manage.

"First of all, are you hurt?"

"No."

"Are you in need of emergency care?"

"No."

"Okay, good. Where are you? Just so I know which city you're in."

"Sevilla."

I stopped myself before I had time to say Still? M hadn't told H he was going to Sevilla, so I had to act as if I didn't know he'd been there.

"Thank you for telling me. Now, take your time."

He did. Oh, I didn't know one could cry such heart-wrenching tears. It was clear Madara was devastated; utterly heartbroken. He tried over and over to speak, but failed every time. Finally, after an hour while I had started walking around my apartment and unpacking again, he spoke.

"I have done something terrible!" he wailed.

And off he went on another crying frenzy. I couldn't help but smile a little at how cute it was. I knew it made me an evil, evil man.

"Wait..." I said when I was done unpacking. I had the same T-shirt I had travelled with on, not having had the chance to shower yet, and when I had searched in my memory to make sure Madara hadn't seen this T-shirt in Sevilla, I put my camera on, showing my torso and nothing else to him as usual. "Is this okay?"

"Mmm", Madara said, and I could hear a little smile in his voice.

"What thing could a sweet soul like you have done that is so terrible?" I asked softly.

He snivelled.

"You know I met a man. In Sevilla."

I felt a pang of jealousy before I managed to remind myself that the man he had met was, in fact, me.

"So you said."

"And since you asked me not to apologise, I won't." Good boy. "But I... He found... He..."

He found your cocaine. I found your cocaine.

"I haven't told you, but I'm a drug addict. I do cocaine. Every day. Do you hate me?"

Oh, Madara...

I smiled a crooked smile he couldn't see.

"You forget I'm a doctor, Ma- M." Shit, I had been so close to calling him Madara. "In New York. I work in the ER most weeks. I see what models do to themselves to maintain their mental health and bodies. M, I am not surprised you're doing cocaine. In fact, I have suspected it."

Madara was dead silent down the line. As I checked my phone watch, I saw that one entire minute passed in this silence. It was a very, very long time to be silent on the phone with someone. 

"Really?" was all Madara said when he finally spoke.

"Really."

"The man I met said he's a doctor, too."

"Then he was certainly not surprised, either."

"The man I met is named Hashirama Senju." I knew Madara was only blabbering at this point. "I could just google him to find out where he lives and go find out if he hates me."

"But you haven't", I said.

"I haven't."

"I see." 

We didn't elaborate. Madara had calmed down, and something told me he was happy with the conversation for now.

"I want to take a shower", I said. "Come with me?"

"Yes."

I took him with me to my bathroom and balanced the camera on my sink.

Then, I backed off, and for the first time, I let him see my legs properly, although not my face.

I turned my back to him, though, afraid he'd recognise me if I showed him the body parts Hashirama-me had showed Madara-him. Slowly, I pulled off my clothes until I was completely naked for him.

Then, I went into the shower.

My body moved strangely in the shower, in a new way that still came naturally to me when I was a camboy for him. Madara didn't say anything, just watched, for half an hour as I washed and scrubbed every transatlantic part of my skin.

When I came out, I dried myself with my back to the camera once more, then got dressed in clean trousers and a T-shirt. Then, I took the camera and went to my bedroom.

"I want to finger you", I said simply.

I heard the heavy breathing that whispered of the same eagerness he had displayed back on Spain.

I heard him take his clothes off, then the unmistakeable moan of someone who was finally allowed to masturbate.

"No", I demanded. "Release your cock."

"But-"

I grabbed hold of my phone harshly, making it look as if I choked him through the video.

"Are you my obedient little pet or not?" I said in a way that I knew would make him release himself immediately. "Good, lovely", I praised. "I said I want to finger you. Are you on your back in your bed?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, I can't see you, so I just have to trust you, okay?"

"Okay."

"I want you to turn over so you're on your hands and knees and bend over. Tell me when you're done."

There were some rustling noises as he moved on his bed that had me go mad with lust. Of course, I was not showing any of this to Madara, forces myself to have complete control over my own desires. .

"I'm done", he whispered.

"Good. Are you arching your back for me nicely?"

"I'm doing my best."

"That's all I will ever ask of you. Thank you for doing that for me. Now. Stay like that. Do not move. I'll be right back."

I placed my phone on my coffee table, leaning it against a candle, then left so all Madara could see was my empty couch.

I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face to calm the fuck down. Then, I went to my bedroom, where I changed for a shirt, and didn't button it up. When I came back to the phone, I heard Madara was panting, and I sat down with my legs splayed and my arms on the headrest of the couch. So that he could see I wanted him. Owned him. 

"You haven't moved, right, pet?"

"No", he said. "I listen to you."

"Good boy. Let's begin. You're still arching your back. Now. Imagine my hands on your thighs."

"Which part of my thighs?"

"Shut up", I said, smacking my thigh with my hand so it echoed around my apartment. "Patience. Your inner thighs." Madara squealed. "I'm caressing you a little. Remember, you're note allowed to touch yourself. Only imagine."

"H..."

I smacked my thigh again.

"Shut up!!"

"Sorry", he breathed into the phone.

God, what I would have given to see him now. To see how he arched his back to me, how he was sweating in held-back desire.

"M?"

"Mmm?"

"What arere you wearing?"

"Just..." he panted, then had to stop speaking to collect himself. "Just a cardigan."

"Good. Just so I can imagine you. Now, do you feel my right hand on your stomach?"

"Yes."

"And my right hand around your neck?"

"Yes."

"Good boy. Now, as my hand travels down your stomach, feeling your hair, the hand on your neck squeezes more and more. So that when I finally grab your cock, I block your airways completely."

I heard Madara stop breathing. Fuck, he was good at this.

But so was I.

"I want you to lift your own right hand. Pretend it's mine. Squeeze until you can't breathe." He coughed once, twice, then lost all ability to pass air through his airways. "Good boy. Now, imagine me fucking your cock with my hand. Faster and faster." He squealed again, and I smacked my thigh. "You're not choking yourself harshly enough!" I complained, and once more, all sound from his end of the line died. Now, your left hand still on the mattress. Only imagining. But keep choking. Keep going, M."

I dragged it out. On and on. I was jerking in desire to allow him to breathe again, but held back. Forced myself to hold back. The fact that he worked so hard for me made me close to tears.

And when I felt Madara was just on the edge of giving up, I freed him.

"Move your right hand from your throat. Put it to your tip."

And as he gasped in that first breath of delicious air, he screamed.

I laughed cruelly as I heard him come for me, for several seconds, until he lay down, which I heard he'd done by the way his breathing was muffled.

"How..." he panted. "How did you do that? I hardly touched myself!"

I smirked into the camera, crossed one leg over the other.

"Pet, are you looking at me?"

"Now I am", he said, and I could almost hear the blush in his voice.

"Good, because I want to tell you something."

"What?"

"I love you."

He was quiet for several seconds.

"What?"

"I love you, M. I always will. No matter who else you fuck or what drugs you do. You're stuck with me."

He got ready to go to bed while I watched over him. He tucked himself into bed while I was with him, wishing I could kiss him goodnight. I looked at him until he fell asleep, cocooned in the safety of being unconditionally loved, and fucked for who you were.

"Goodnight, pet", I whispered before finally, I leaned forwards on the couch and turned off the video.

Then, I lost all contact with Madara.