Your Depth

The next morning, Madara emerged from his study with slightly dark under eyes and an exhausted expression, having not slept the entire night as he trudged sluggishly to the bathroom to prepare for the day as though carrying a giant boulder of shame on his back. On his gloomy trek down the hall, he felt as though he were an odious criminal being paraded through the streets while being spat on and having rotten fruits thrown at him. Which, in all honesty, was exactly what he deserved. Although Madara could handle one night without sleep, what he couldn't handle was the crushing weight of what an animal he was.

All through the night, the only thing he could do was force himself to work like a slave and ignore the raging heat between his legs until it finally went away after what could only be described as an eternity.

No one could ever know what happened.

How was he supposed to face the blond who sat at the center of his shame and of his thoughts all throughout the night?

Well, at least he managed to suppress himself and didn't... practice onanism in the middle of the night because of a certain blue-eyed blond that was only a few rooms away, but because of that he struggled with his work and prayed that he didn't screw up on anything.

He groaned wearily.

As much as he wanted to take the day off to collect himself and put it all behind him like a functioning and fully capable adult with intact principles, he honestly couldn't trust himself to be left alone with the young man all day. So much for intact principles...

He felt like an utter animal.

A wild, disgusting, horrid, and heinous animal. No, more like a monstrous creature of the abyss meant for vile libidinous sinners. Naruto was the embodiment of purity and innocence—how dare his body have the gall to react with impure intentions towards such a wholesome creature!

Madara shook his head, deeply disappointed with himself, and slid open the entirely wooden door to the bathroom and entered. As he went into the bathroom, he caught himself in the mirror above the sink as he passed by and cringed at his own haggard reflection.

He belonged in a cage.

The Uchiha quickly averted his gaze from the mirror and undressed himself, slipping off his black haori, dark gray obi, and dull brown yukata to reveal a broad back flanked by thick shoulders, all rippling with solid and powerful muscles worthy of a shinobi his caliber. As his yukata loosened and slid lower, it uncovered the Uchiha patriarch's firm pectorals and chiseled eight-pack abs. Madara gazed down to analyze his own body, running his hand along the muscles on his stomach. He had always made sure to maintain his fit body, after all he was the leader and most powerful member of his clan, and in case he ever had to remind ignorant fools of their place in this world. So, of course he knew he had a great body, although he did have many varying scars scattered all over, but he figured that since Naruto was also once a shinobi he would find the scars to be admirable. When he looked back up into the mirror to look at himself, he moved the long hair that covered the right side of his face in order to see his whole face. He wasn't ugly by any means, he knew that much as he had been approached by many mantling admirers in the past for marriage, but there was the problem of his rather intimidating expression which often scared off children. However, Naruto did not seem to mind it, he even stated that he liked being able to see all of his features...

Wait...

When did this become about the little blond?

Madara groaned a bit, seeing the slight blush on his pale cheeks in the mirror and placed the hair back in its original spot to cover his face again somewhat shyly, remembering the delicate touch and adorable curiosity of the young man wanting to see his face. He quickly tossed his clothes into the laundry bin and opened the second set of textured glass shoji doors that separated the bath and shower to hurriedly wash away the indignity of last night. After a quick shower, he felt a little less filthy than before—although unfortunately, he couldn't manage to scrub away any of the guilt while in the shower.