Of all the wonderful things to come out of peace talks, Tobirama relishes Izuna's jealousy the most.

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.

Shisui's breaths feel too loud in the quiet of the room, like they’re coming too fast. It’s like he’s panting, like he can't get enough air, and it makes his head spin. His whole body is shaking, overheated, burning up from the inside, and he has to catch himself on the edge of the sink and lean there, gasping for air, acutely, exquisitely, awfully aware of every inch of his skin. Behind him, a page turns, crinkling, and there's a quiet hum.

“Well,” Asuma says as Hidan is shoved to his knees in front of him. “This is a surprise.”