Hashirama was an elegant drunk.

Actually, Hashirama was an elegant everything.

Everything he did was made with such precision and grace, it was as if it had been calculated by an AI to take up as little space as possible. He moved confidently yet not boisterously.

And what made it so unbelievably hot was the fact that he was completely unaware of it.

I had one arm casually around his waist, and he had his arm around my shoulder for support, but I suspected he didn't need it, although we both pretended that he did. Madara would catch up; he had the spare keys. I'd told him I needed to leave but not why and with whom. I thought I would let that be a surprise. He had wanted to stay a while at Sticky Fingers and would then come home to me.

I thought I knew why Hashirama had been drinking and felt terrible. I hadn't known he was there; if I had, I would have acted differently. Even I could see Hashirama was absolutely mad for Madara.  I wasn't like Madara. He could read people as if they were open books. I suspected Hashirama had that ability as well, to an even greater extent than Madara. Me however... I could read people, but to me, they were closed books.

And I never wanted to open them.

So if even I could notice how Hashirama felt...

I wasn't cold due to trauma, like Madara. I wasn't laid-back because I was hiding a big secret like Hashirama. I was just private, loving my own company but few others', and the ones I blessed with my presence I could only handle in small doses.

As we drew closer to my villa in Paris, I looked down on the man next to me, his face soft, open. I thought of Madara, whom I loved dearly, how much he was craving partnership without ever being able to confess it to anyone, least of all to himself. My hot-headed sous chef and this man were the only people who made me want to open their book and read them.

I took my house key out of my pocket, unlocked the door of the white villa with enormous windows that was far too big for me. Hashirama tried to take his shoes off in the hallway but failed due to his drunken state.

"Got it", I said softly and went down on one knee. His hand immediately went to my hair; I had no idea if he was aware of the implications of that.

I smirked as I unzipped his shoes, very classy mocha boots, and he stepped out of them. I stood up again, making sure I was close to him, chest-to-chest, looking down on him; his forehead reached my eyebrows.

"Let daddy make something for you", I teased.

"I don't know if you can be my daddy. How much money do you have?" he retorted and I smirked, appreciating the banter.

He followed me to my enormous, grey kitchen where I opened the freezer and took out a package.

"Are you serious?" he asked, and when I turned round, I saw one of his eyebrows was raised.

"Hashirama, look at me", I said. "Do I look like a man who's ever anything but serious?"

"Touché", he said, arms crossed.

I put the store-bought fries that had caused him so much disbelief on the counter, turned on the oven, took a dish and covered it in olive oil, put the frozen fries in and added some of my two hundred euro flake salt on top. I took some French bread I'd bought fresh in the morning and kept in a clean kitchen towel so it would stay crispy on the outside and soft on the inside and cut it through the middle. From the fridge, I produced butter, vegan cheese, vegan ham, lettuce and cucumber. As the sandwiches were done, the oven was heated, and I put the fries in. Hashirama had seated himself at my oak kitchen table by then.

"Who is that?" he asked, and I saw he was looking at some photos I had on my bookshelf.

"My daughter", I said softly. If Hashirama was surprised, he didn't show it. "Sunna. She's six. Have her every other weekend." Hashirama remained quiet. I had my back turned to him, so I couldn't see his face, but I felt the curiosity from him. "I was twenty-nine. One-night-stand with a woman who had no idea who I was, can you imagine?" I smiled softly at my attempt at humour; it just wasn't my thing. "She found out she was pregnant. We hadn't had contact since that night, but she texted me. I asked to get to know her so we could form a family with our future child, but she told me to stay away, having found out exactly how famous I was. That she didn't want her child to be part of that. She just wanted childcare from me. I fought for my child. For three years, I fought for my daughter. Finally, court granted my wishes. Which is why I have her every other weekend."

"Are you on friendly terms?" Hashirama asked politely. "You and the mother?"

"We have to", I said. "I need to text her before I pick Sunna up. She is polite to me when Sunna is around, thank God. When we're texting, however..." I shivered. "She once wrote she wished she hadn't said anything at all. That she just kept it secret. Fuck my money. Imagine that", I said and even I could hear the pain in my voice. "Imagine if she'd had my beautiful daughter without me knowing."

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned round; I hadn't even noticed him coming up to me. I leaned back on the counter as he leaned towards me, putting his arms around my waist. I did the same around his.

"That's terrible", he said, kissing the side of my head. I leaned in, connected our foreheads. "Does Madara know?" he asked.

I smiled. "No", I said. "He's been here, but he hasn't seen the photos yet. I haven't hidden them, but we've been busy with... Other things." Hashirama remained silent and I knew I had been tactless. I tried to save face by pretending I didn't realise, like a coward. "Madara cannot be with someone who has a child already. He needs to explore what he wants from life himself, not just take what is offered to him by the man he happens to love. But in this case, it wouldn't matter. I don't want a relationship. Me having a child or not will not matter."

The fries were done, and we ate them with the vegan sandwiches. They tasted amazing, as store-bought fries with fresh bread did. Hashirama sobered up very quickly, and after half of the meal he looked tired, but very much aware of the entire situation. I let him finish, gave him a T-shirt, and we went to bed together, me with my arms around him, him with his forehead on my bare chest. He connected our hips which caused me to convulse even if I still wore trousers. I kissed his forehead over and over until he fell asleep. I always had trouble sleeping, but at some point, I must've fallen asleep as well. 

I woke up by the soft sound of keys in my lock.

"Thought I'd found you both here", he said softly, and I could see the smallest smile on his face as he entered my bedroom where Hashirama was sleeping.

I turned on the soft, dim light at the bedside table. Hashirama still had his eyes closed, his beautifully shaped eyebrows relaxed, his hair like the ocean on my sheets. Madara climbed onto bed, smelling of alcohol but very alert; man never got affected. He grabbed Hashirama's face softly.

"Hashi... Hey, Hashi."

"Are you sure you wanna wake him?" I asked, playing with a strand of his amazing, black hair, surprised he wasn't angry or displaying jealousy.

Madara looked at me.

"But I miss him", he said matter-of-factly and my heart melted. "Hashirama!"

Hashirama's eyes opened slightly, and I saw the seconds pass behind his eyes as he remembered where he was and analysed the situation he was now in. Madara suddenly put his arms around him and hugged him close, to both mine and Hashirama's surprise. Madara was a person of raw passion, of no-bullshit sex; I had never seen him hug anyone before. Hashirama gasped silently in surprise, but then, his face relaxed, and he put his arms around Madara's back and hugged him in return. 

The moment was so tender, so pure it made my heart ache. I pulled them both to me then, held them close. Then, Hashirama moved so he was between us and we both held him, kissing the side of his head over and over. Hashirama closed his eyes happily as we both loved him from either side. Madara took my hand, and I gratefully squeezed it back, feeling utterly at ease with Hashirama but still grateful for the familiarity of Madara's hand.

Then, Madara moved so he was face-to-face with Hashirama. He put his fingertips lightly on Hashirama's face, a face that was like everything else that was him; elegant, classy.

Madara leaned forwards to close the last space of air between their lips, and kissed him.

Hashirama's hands immediately went to Madara's hair, grabbing, steadying himself. Madara had his eyes closed, the rings on his fingers glittering in the soft light.

"You've been drinking", Hashirama whispered into his mouth.

"Well noted", Madara said darkly, but he was smiling.

It was so rare I got to see him smile. I felt so lucky.

"Boys..." I murmured, suddenly moving so I stood on my knees, watching over them. They both stopped, looking up at me and I immediately realised how much power I had in this situation. "I didn't say stop", I said, unzipping my trousers.

Hashirama couldn't stop staring at me, but Madara grabbed his face, made sure the chestnut-haired man's focus was on him as he kissed him again.

I pulled my trousers down, no underwear, and moaned as I grabbed my length, beating it.

"Focus on me, Hashirama", Madara demanded and hearing him dominate another man as I dominated him drove me insane. I grabbed his black hair harshly and sighed, and Hashirama took the moment to remove his T-shirt, revealing a torso that was surprisingly strong.

"Take him", I told Madara.

He just grimaced in pain from me holding his hair.

"You need to release me", he said.

"Don't backtalk me, Maddie", I said darkly and I could see then that he was afraid; he had not forgotten our row.

I released him, but Hashirama had other plans. He walked over to me on his knees, placed his hands on my shoulders.

And placed his lips on my jawline.

I leaned my head back and moaned; the sensation of his soft lips on my raspy, stubbled cheeks was mesmerising. Madara immediately stood on his knees behind the man with the chestnut hair, pressing his groin to his backside.

"I need to fuck you so bad", he murmured into his ear, grabbing his jaw from behind.

Hashirama hummed happily, travelling down my neck with his lips. As he went further down, I grabbed his hair, put weight in it. Down and down his lips went, and my beautiful Madara adjusted so he was right behind him. As Hashirama opened his mouth over my tip, Madara placed his at Hashirama's opening.

And as Hashirama made stars swim before my eyes as he took me into his mouth, Madara pushed in, grunting in relief as Hashirama moaned around me.

"Fuuuck..." I breathed.

And I was fully prepared to fuck. To demand control back over a situation where I was given pleasure but not giving it, but then I felt Madara's hand on my cheek and looked up. To my great surprise, his face had lost all of that anger that always filled it up; it was replaced with something softer, something liquid instead of solid that had the ability to change, to respect the situation around him and adapt to it just like water. On pure instinct, I grabbed his hand, kissed it. Hashirama's mouth was hot around me and I suddenly missed his face close to mine.

"I love you", Madara mouthed to me.

No... I thought. Please, no. I don't deserve it.

Madara didn't seem to expect me to say the same back to him which pained me; I loved him too but was unable to say it. Like a coward. Instead, Madara looked down on Hashirama, grabbing his waist, massaging his back.

"Get up", he demanded but Hashirama didn't listen.

I couldn't help but smile; Hashirama was beneath us both but never below us, still in utter control over himself albeit not the situation he was in. I had to grab his hair and force him up to kiss him.

His lips were thin, soft, able and his tongue was sweet. I suddenly required him, pushing Hashirama on his back and so forced Madara out of him to both of their great disdain, clambered over him. I put my hands on his body, started roaming and I had never experienced anything like it because Hashirama's body came alive beneath my hands, my palm waking up his muscle fibres as they went. Madara hugged me from behind, adorably jealous. Good, I thought. Teach you how to share.

He really was adorable, the black-haired man. As Hashirama grabbed the sheets with his broad, veiny hands from where he lay on his back I couldn't help but notice the delicacy of Madara's hands compared to mine and Hashirama's. I was suddenly filled with a tenderness towards the man.

"Maddie", I said. Hashirama laid below me, looking up on us towering over him, Madara behind me.

"Mmm?" Madara said, kissing my shoulder, massaging my chest with his able, scarred hands. God, if the world only knew half of what those hands were capable of. What they could do. What they could cook. What they could have boiling.

"I love you too."

Madara stopped dead behind me. I hadn't even mouthed it like he had but said it out loud.

"What?" he whispered.

"I love you too."

To my great surprise, Hashirama below me looked away, bringing a hand to his eyes; he was crying. He was so touched he was crying.

"Oh, no, lovely", I said, bending forwards, placing my lips on his. "We're fine", I soothed. "I promise you, we're fine."

"It's so frustrating!" he said. "You're so toxic to each other when you could be each other's world!"

"Hashi..." Madara whispered and I suddenly felt desperate to take the black-haired man behind me. I grabbed him, pushed him down on top of Hashirama.

"Tobirama!" he screamed. "What... Hahh..."

I had placed my hot tip against his backside, teasing him.

"Love him", I demanded and Madara understood.

He went to Hashirama's lips, kissed him so hotly with his tongue it was like watching a porn film. His able lips went down to Hashirama's length, took it into his mouth.

And for the seventh time in my life (we'd fucked a lot since we opened that Pandora's box the day we apologised to each other in the kitchen), I pushed myself into Madara.

Every time with him was like the first. The relief I felt was so palpable, it clenched at every muscle around my hips but also at my heart. Madara moaned around Hashirama's dick.

"Don't stop working for Hashi", I said softly, scratching Madara's neck.

Hashirama was somewhere far, far away as the black-haired man above him deep-throated him over and over, causing himself to gag hotly and I had to shut off my brain not to come immediately; I had already come inside Madara six times before and I wanted to save myself for Hashi. But Hashirama was close, I could tell, and I was running out of time. One hand firmly on Madara's neck, I went out of him and he moaned.

"Fuck, Tobirama, I didn't feel done!" he complained, allowing me a glimpse of the man he usually was that I had grown to love so much.

Hashirama wasn't happy to be interrupted, either, and I leaned forwards, kissed his tip lightly with my tongue as an apology.

And Hashirama accepted, because he sat up, straddled me. I could only lean back on my hands and let him sink down over my hips, allowing me to go deep inside him.

"Mmm..." I grunted as he enclosed my dick around him, never breaking eye contact. God, he was beautiful up front.

Madara was, at this point, insanely jealous which I loved, backing away, looking at us while masturbating.

And Hashirama started jumping me.

"Ouff!" I said darkly, closing my eyes harshly to capture all the stars that swam before them.

Madara started moaning like someone possessed as he masturbated.

And we fucked each other, the three of us, for minute after minute, forcing each other to wait the other in, craving release but still wishing we could drag the moment out forever.

And in the end the two men, together, opened a space in my heart that could no longer be contained but had to be released, immediately, and from the second that place opened I realised I completely trusted them both with my body, with my soul, with my life and I loved them both, would do anything in the entire world for them.

And I screamed as I came, allowing them to milk out my soul from the stars.

Milk out everything that was left of me.