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Firsts, Part Eleven

Reply to Tasyfa

Sent to the Roswell Slash Archive July 22, 2001


        "Max, I thought—it was only Friday when you said you weren't," Michael sought reassurance, his eyes glued to Max's face.

        "I know. I just—what happened Saturday night, with the three of us...it changed everything, Michael. It made me so much more aware of how I feel. Michael, I," Max started.

        "Max, you don't have," Michael interrupted, only to fall silent at Max's gentle head shake. Max shifted on the couch so that he was facing Michael. He brought up his hands, cupping Michael's face tenderly as he gazed into his dark eyes.

        "Michael, I need to say this. Before we—make love, I need you to know that I love you," he stated with quiet intensity. Michael's eyes prickled and he blinked rapidly. How could words he thought he never wanted to hear just shoot right through him like that, spearing his soul?

        Max smiled, seeing the extra glitter in Michael's gaze. He leaned forward and oh, so lightly brushed his lips over Michael's: once, twice, a third time before withdrawing, only to press kisses to his eyelids. Michael kept his eyes closed as Max drew back.

        "Max, I—I feel the same way," Michael stumbled over the words, not quite able to say them. It didn't matter; it was enough. It was more than enough, he discovered as he opened his eyes to see the shimmer in Max's amber gaze.

        They leaned forward simultaneously, their lips meeting, opening. Max snaked his tongue into Michael's mouth, tasting the cayenne-laced popcorn from their movie date. As the kiss deepened, Michael moved forward until he was practically sitting in Max's lap, his arms locked tight around Max's waist.

        Max finally broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Michael's as he struggled for breath. When he spoke, his voice was husky.

        "Why don't you put on some music? I'll just be a sec," Max suggested. Michael nodded, not trusting himself to speak. There was something fragile and precious about the moment that he did not want to disturb. Max kissed his cheek and they both stood, Michael going to his CD stand and Max going into the bedroom.

        A few minutes later Max emerged, looking slightly confused. Michael had picked out a few CDs and was just putting them in the disc changer when Max cleared his throat behind him.

        "Michael, I—when I was here Friday, I think I—I can't find," Max couldn't seem to explain what he was talking about. Michael turned with a smile.

        "It's in my bedside table; you forgot it," his smile grew as Max's cheeks flushed.

        "Oh. Um, good, then. What are you putting on?" Max changed the subject rapidly. Michael indicated the CD jewel cases as he pressed randomized play: B. B. King, Sarah McLaughlin, Richard Ashcroft. Max choked back a hysterical laugh: all music to fuck by.

        "Do you, want to, uh, go in the bedroom now?" Max's voice cracked. Michael nodded as the first strains of classic blues filled the air. He reached for Max's hand and led him, knowing that despite his certainty, Max was nervous.

        Michael stopped dead upon entering his room. Candlelight blazed everywhere, casting dancing shadows against the walls with the breeze of their arrival. He looked at Max incredulously, seeing him recover some of his usual confidence at Michael's amazement.

        "I, uh, wanted it to be romantic," Max smiled. "I dropped the candles here a couple of days ago."

        "I'm wondering just who is seducing whom here!" Michael joked. Max reddened but his smile didn't falter as Michael wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Max stroked his back soothingly, relaxing as they stood together for several minutes, just taking comfort in each other's presence. Michael was the first to step back.

        "Max, we," he was hushed by Max's fingers pressed to his lips.

        "Shh. Let's just take it slow, see what happens, all right? No expectations, no pressure," Max said softly. Michael nodded in agreement, then closed his eyes as Max's lips descended to his.

        Leisurely Max sampled his mouth, slipping his tongue between Michael's teeth and coaxing his lips to part further. Michael gladly obliged, and his hands came up to hold Max's waist, pulling him closer. They both groaned at the intimate contact. Max unbuttoned Michael's shirt as they kissed, pushing it off his arms and letting it fall to the floor. He went to work on his pants next, and stopped kissing Michael only long enough to ease them down and off.

        Michael's head was swimming with sensation as Max slowly caressed him, running his fingertips lightly over Michael's bare skin. He reached for the button and fly of Max's jeans, opening them and slipping them off Max's hips. Max kicked them off the rest of the way and quickly lifted his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor with the rest of their clothes and returning to his assault on Michael's mouth. Max gradually moved them back towards the bed, his hands ceaselessly roaming until the backs of Michael's knees hit the mattress.

        Michael broke the kiss to climb onto the bed, sitting in the middle. He held out a hand to Max, who joined him, pushing Michael down onto his back. They resumed kissing, their mouths greedily sucking at each other as their hands explored. Michael groaned as Max licked and nipped his way down his throat, pausing to taste his pulse before closing his lips over Michael's nipple. Michael groped around at the side of the bed, finally pressing the small tube of lubricant into Max's hand. Max looked up, startled.

        "Just—hands, not..." Michael gasped out. A wicked little smile appeared on Max's face and Michael groaned, his head falling back as he felt the cool gel slicking his skin only moments before Max inserted his fingers. Michael's body jerked in pleasure, his cock aching with it. Max trailed gel-coated fingers over the head of Michael's cock, stroking him very lightly in sync with his pumping fingers. Long before Michael reached the brink, Max withdrew his fingers and closed both hands over Michael's cock, giving him a few quick, hard strokes that left his breathing ragged and his skin thoroughly wet and slippery.

        Michael pulled Max up so that their faces were level, kissing him hungrily as he rolled on top of Max. His hands tugged at Max's nipples, making them stand out straight in a tiny double echo of his erection. Max's hands scrabbled at Michael's back, his short nails scratching across his skin as he tried to get Michael closer. He gasped when Michael suddenly left his mouth and bit his earlobe, licking away the pain before biting again. Michael worked over both his ears then sucked hard on his chest while one hand crept down to enclose Max's cock firmly.

        Michael used his tongue and teeth across the expanse of Max's chest as he worked his cock with one hand, then moved down to take Max in his mouth. Max writhed under the sudden suction then cried out as Michael penetrated him with two fingers, the deliberately excessive amount of gel spreading to coat Max's skin. He stiffened and came, spurting into Michael's throat as fast as he could swallow. When there was no more, Michael moved up over Max, looking at his face intently as Max opened his eyes.

        They gazed at each other, the soft rhythm of the background music sighing along their sweat-slicked skin, until finally Max brought his knees up on either side of Michael's body, lifting his hips. Michael leaned in for a slow, sweet kiss, pulling back to whisper at Max's lips.

        "Are you ready? You're sure?" he searched for an answer in Max's eyes.

        Max lifted his head to press another kiss to Michael's lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm nervous, but—I'm sure." Their lips met again as Michael placed a pillow underneath Max's hips and positioned himself. Max's eyes fluttered open when Michael's mouth moved away, and they kept eye contact as slowly, carefully, Michael eased himself in.

        "Oh, God!" they said in unison, laughing breathlessly at each other. Michael pressed frantic little kisses all over Max's face as he began to pump in and out, in and out, establishing a gentle rhythm that was nonetheless driving him insane. He felt Max harden again, pressed along his abdomen, and smiled at his widening eyes.

        "Ah, Michael, don't—stop, don't stop," Max said raggedly and Michael thrust a little harder, kissing Max's throat as he arched his head back.

        "Max. Max," Michael breathed as he felt the familiar tightening in his groin. Max held him close, telling him wordlessly to let go, and he did, exploding into Max with a strangled moan. Michael pumped a few more times as he slipped his hand in between their bodies, grasping Max's cock in a quick, rough motion that brought Max to orgasm almost immediately, spilling onto both of them.

        Michael pulled out and moved to one side, cuddling up to Max who wrapped an arm around him. They didn't speak for quite a while. Suddenly Michael chuckled. Max lifted his head to look at him.

        "What?" Max asked.

        "Listen," Michael responded, jerking his head towards the living room where the stereo was located. Max could just make out the lyrics of the song: Into the brave new world, I hope I see you on the other side of this changing world. He laughed.

        "I don't feel brave, I feel...really good," Max admitted. "How about you?"

        Michael was silent for a long moment. When he did speak, it was right into Max's ear.

        "I feel incredible. And—I love you."

        "I love you, too," Max whispered, a catch in his voice, and they lay together peacefully until it was time for Max to go home.

Continue to Part Twelve

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