“Can you take a little more?” Hashirama murmurs, and there's a whisper of something else beneath the velvet of his voice, heady and heavy like the power that curls across his skin, and Obito shudders, moans.

Utakata makes a noise of irritation and finally cracks one eye open, glaring up at the shape above him. “It’s December,” he protests. Zabuza grins at him, more challenge than anything, and braces a knee on the bed between Utakata’s thighs. “Want me to keep you warm?” he asks, and big hands settle on Utakata’s hips as lips caress the back of his neck.