A week or so passed, and I started feeling slightly uncomfortable that I was staying at someone else's place without paying.

"Hashirama, you should leave all your chores to me. I don't have any money so I can't pay..."

"Nonsense", he said. "If you ever feel like doing a chore you're welcome to it. But I like having you around. I feel like I should be paying you for keeping me good company."

I blushed at this. But before I could say anything else, he continued.

"But you haven't even left the loft since you came." 

That was true. Hashirama left for something every day, be it work or the gym or grocery shopping, but I had remained resolutely shut-in. I was afraid to go out, in case I would meet him again. He had harassed me on my phone, texting and leaving voice messages until I blocked him. Of course, I had immediately turned off any possibility of tracking me as soon as I left him. But even so, I was afraid...

And Hashirama knew.

"I have been meaning to ask you. I would love to take your portrait again." My hand inevitably went to my face where a few yellowing bruises remained, but I knew it was fruitless to mention them to Hashirama; I knew he thought I was the perfect object no matter what. "And the cherry blossoms are gorgeous right now. How about we set an alarm for early in the morning? That way, nobody will be out. Which is good both for the pictures and..." I knew what he meant. "Also, you'll be with me, and I would never let anyone hurt you." I knew he wouldn't.

So we set an alarm for four am the next morning. 

"I regret everything", I groaned. "My bad! Fuck portraits! Fuck the cherry trees! And fuck you! Let's go back to sleep."

But Hashirama was refreshingly alert, dragging me out of bed.

"Come on! It'll be worth it!"

I was nervous as Hashirama drove us in his car. Even seeing how hot he was as he drove couldn't take the edge of the worry I felt of coming across him. Hashirama noticed, and grabbed hold of my hand in between switching gears. 

Once we got to the park, I got at least slightly distracted as I marvelled at the beautiful, saturated pink cherry blossoms. I looked up and laughed and twirled in the empty streets, and Hashirama didn't have any suggestions about my poses but just started taking pictures as I danced, and I could finally relax a little.

As time passed, I became more and more relaxed but also more and more intense, looking into the camera lens, in the end smirking into it. But in reality, I was smirking at Hashirama.

We didn't speak, just communicated in this language we had created between us with me using my body language and him taking pictures of it. 

Once the first early morning joggers started coming out, we walked hand-in-hand back to the car, the first time we had held hands, him with his camera slung over his shoulder, me leaning against his arm. And I realised we hadn't had any mishaps, not seeing anyone we didn't want to see. 

When we came back to his loft, he didn't let go of my hand, just put the camera down on a table.

"Hashirama..." I whispered. 

He kissed me. 

He put his hand on my cheek, let his lips fall softly onto mine, releasing, falling, releasing... Making my own lips wet and glistening and craving. He was very polite, not using his tongue, but when I tasted his lips with my tongue he captured it with his. His breathing became very, very deep, as did his kissing. He slid his hands around my waist, and when he parted his lips from mine, a sliver of saliva hung between us.

"God, Madara..." he moaned. 

"I am so happy I met you", I told him.

"You're driving me mad..."

He lifted me up beneath my thighs and brought me to the bed where he put me down as gently as he had done the day I had fled to him. He leaned over me, his chestnut hair falling down around me like a curtain encapsulating me from the cruelty of the world beyond. His brown eyes were so sincere, it made my eyes tear. 

"I am falling in love with you, Madara", he said. "Please... If you want me to stop... If you don't want this, please, tell me now..."

"Oh, Hashirama..." I whispered, and a tear fell down on his bluebell sheets.

"Because if I take one more step, I will be irreversibly in love with you."

An explosion of emotions went off in my heart and it made me gasp. I put my hands behind his head and pulled him to me.

"Then take two more steps", I whispered.

He kissed me again, and I started fumbling with his shirt buttons. He helped me pull it off his shoulders, and I felt up his chest with my hands. He took one of those hands and kissed it, while I slid the other one around his neck. He took this chance to pull down my trousers, and I blushed as he saw exactly how much I wanted him.

"Come..." he murmured darkly, then sat down on the bed and pulled me into his lap. 

I immediately started undoing his belt, and he actually hid his face on my chest as I released him.

I took his face between my hands, smiled down at him. 

"Don't tell me you're shy of me", I laughed.

He smiled back.

"What can I say. It's not every day I have the most beautiful soul I have ever met in my arms."

"Hashi..."

God... That having a man could feel this good. For so long, I had only done it because I was following a sense of duty, and because I feared the consequences of saying no. 

Not with Hashirama, though. Hashirama was as gentle as a petal, and he held me in his embrace, still in his lap, as he stretched me endlessly patiently.

And when he went into me, it was because I asked him to by turning around and standing up on all four. Never before had I been the one to ask, to tell the other I was ready. It was an entirely new experience for me, and I found that when his cock went inside me, I didn't have to bite down on the pillow in pain, but I could instead moan in pleasure, and mean it. 

I had faked my moans for so long, but this, this was real. I wouldn't have been able to keep quiet even if I had tried. Hashirama hugged my waist as he gently thrusted, further and further in as my screams became louder. He was moaning hotly, too.

"I want to kiss you", I said. "How do we... Oh!"

Hashirama was on it in a second. He lifted me up into his lap again, but then stood up on the floor. I started jumping him before I understood what I was doing, and I tried to capture his lips in a deep kiss as best as I could. 

The veins in Hashirama's forearms bulged with the exertion of holding me up, strong from the gym and carrying his cameras. I tossed my head back, my hair flying behind me, and as he bit down on my exposed neck, it was enough to push me over the edge and I came on him, poured a warm, milky-white liquid on his stomach, and he, in turn, fell down to his knees and let me convulse until I was done. 

I hugged him to me as we sat on the floor, panting. When I had recovered a little, I started moving, but he held me put. 

"But you haven't come yet!" I said.

"I don't need to", he said, and I just stared at him. "Please. Let me take care of you."

Never in a million years would I ever have believed a man was capable of something like this. The many years with my ex had taught me that my duty was to make the other man come, and if I was allowed to come, it was because it gave the other a sense of power. Hashirama, however... He made it about us, together, and I saw in his face that he was deeply satisfied in a way that you could never be with mere coming. 

"I love you", I said then, and oh, how long ago it was that I had said those words and meant them. 

Hashirama couldn't speak for a while because he was so touched, but when he spoke, it was the best thing anyone had ever said to me.

"It feels I have been waiting for you to tell me that for my entire life. And I love you, too."

It almost made me forget about the uncomfortable feeling I got whenever I was close to him and could feel his scent.