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Reply to Merlin7Posted to the Roswell Slash list November 12, 2000
Pure Michael/Max Slash
Spoilers up to EOTW
May be archived anywhere
Jason Katims and WB own the characters..I'm just messing with them
Max stifled a yawn as he exited the UFO Center and locked the doors. Brody had asked him to close tonight because he was off to some Alien Abductee meeting. Had asked Max to go but Max had declined, using the excuse that someone needed to mind the store. And since it was a Friday night and there was no school in the morning, Max had been rather glad to do it. Wanted to keep busy. To keep his mind occupied with something other than his so called Destiny. Not that thoughts of Liz hadn't haunted him from time to time. Sometimes it seemed like everything around Max reminded him of Liz.
"Need a ride?"
"Michael!" Max hissed, even as he jumped at the sound of a voice right behind him. Turned and saw a motorcycle resting at the curb. "Nice Bike," Max commented.
Michael shrugged. "Gets me where I need to go," he drawled. "I saw Isabel with the jeep so I thought you might need a ride home."
A wry smile curved Max's lips. "It's a nice offer, Michael...but I can easily walk and we both know that. So..what's the real reason you're here?"
"We need to talk," Michael stated flatly. He was going out of his mind. Ever since the *Momogram* everything had changed. Between everyone..but mostly between him and Max and Michael didn't like it. Especially after the dreams. They had shown him the truth. He hadn't wanted to accept it at first, but now it was so clear to him. "Can we go to my house?" Michael asked.
"You don't like to talk," Max reminded Michael.
Heaving a sigh Michael countered, "It was a yes or no question, Maxwell."
Max nodded. "Yes, Michael...we can go to your house," he stated. Max couldn't have agreed more but that they needed to talk. He missed the closeness he had shared with Michael. Missed being able to share things. Not that Michael had ever really been there to talk too, but Max had known that Michael cared and sometimes that was enough. But from the moment Max had healed Liz, things had begun to change between them.
"Put this on," Michael said, tossing Max a helmut. Slid his own on and straddled the motorcycle, waiting for Max to slide on behind him. Then Michael revved the engine and they roared off.
"Hungry or thirsty?" Michael asked as he entered his apartment with Max following close behind. Tossed his jacket in the corner then turned to watch Max close the door.
"I'm fine," Max replied. "What did you want to talk about, Michael?" he prompted. Suddenly he felt a bit nervous. Things had been rough between them the last few times he had been here.
Michael licked his lips and went to the fridge. Needed something to drink for his mouth had suddenly gone dry. What he had to say would be difficult. Michael had found it hard to accept and, all things considered, he doubted Max would convert too easily. In the end Michael figured he'd have to prove it to Max for actions spoke louder than words. That was one thing Michael had always believed in. "I've been thinking about this whole..destiny...thing. How it's changed all of us," Michael began after downing a few swigs of milk. "You know...Isabel and I...we're not meant to be together, Max."
Max nodded. "I never thought you were..anymore than Tess and I belong together."
"Yeah...I guess you were right about that," Michael conceded. "Um...also...you know I've been pissed at you all summer..right?"
"Yeah...you haven't exactly been subtle, Michael," Max replied. "I know that you want me to be our leader. To take action...but I can't. It's not me. I'm no King."
Michael put the milk back in the fridge and whirled on Max. "I think you are!" he hissed. "You've always been our leader, Max. But the moment it was confirmed you backed off. And I kinda understand. I mean..I know you went through hell in the White Room with Pierce. And then Liz walked away -"
Max slashed the air between them with one hand, cutting Michael off in mid sentence. "I don't want to talk about Liz!" He hissed, turning on his heel to head for the door. "I know how you feel about her, Michael. You think she makes me weak...but you're wrong!"
"No..you're wrong, Maxwell!" Michael shouted as he manuervered himself between Max and the door. "This isn't about you and Liz anymore. Or you and Tess. Or me and Isabel. It's about you and me. The King and his second in command. Warriors."
"You're not making sense, Michael," Max shot back. "I'm no warrior...or King."
Michael grabbed a handful of Max's t-shirt and slammed him back against the nearest wall. "I've never been any good at this talking shit...so let me show you what I mean," he hissed. Then, tangling his fingers in Max's hair, Michael bent his head and claimed a kiss.
To say that Max was stunned by the kiss was the ultimate understatement. He couldn't even move for he was paralyzed by surprise, which gave Michael the opening to deepen the kiss, slipping tongue past Max's parted lips. It was then that Max started to resist, but he went still as an image flashed in his head.
Michael felt Max stiffen and knew what he had to be seeing. The two of them, naked bodies intertwined, skin glistening with sweat, moving together as one. The dreams that had haunted Michael for the past few weeks. The dreams that he would no longer deny. Couldn't deny, for he was kissing Max and it felt right, and good.
"NO!" Max hissed the word and tore his mouth from Michael's, feeling relief as the images faded. But their memory was still stark and Max felt his body tingle for it had felt so real. More than the kiss he had felt the caress of Michael's hands on his bare skin. Felt the hard fullness of Michael's cock inside him and the friction of each thrust.. "Let go of me!" Max demanded as he tried to detangle Michael's fingers from his hair.
"You're not running away from this, Max!" Michael shot back. He used his greater body weight to keep Max pinned to the wall. Ironically, Max had lost weight over the summer and Michael had gained. Just another way that they differed. Max stopped eating when stressed and Michael ate more. "What you saw...what I dreamed...it's real, Max. It's the only thing that feels real...and right."
Max shook his head in complete denial. "Do you know what you're implying?" he countered, in a shaky voice.
MIchael nodded. "That it's you and me who are supposed to be together, Max. I know it seems weird..but why not? And don't give me the gay vibe thing cause...it's not about that either. We're not...human...so it doesn't apply."
"I don't want you," Max blurted out. "I Love LIz..I want Liz. You know that, Michael. It was just a dream that you had. It doesn't mean anything, anymore than the dreams that you and Isabel had about you two having a baby together. Dreams aren't real and neither is this." As he spoke, Max tried to push Michael off him. He was all too aware of the feel of Michael's groin pressed to his, of the other boy's straining erection. Looked into Michael's eyes and saw passion there. And desire.
"I'm not letting you run away from me, Maxwell," Michael whispered. He knew that Max could feel his erection and he wanted him too. It confirmed to Michael what he had been feeling. He wanted Max. Needed him. And Max needed this too. Destiny decreed that Max was King and Michael his second in command. So be it. Michael accepted that. But on a personal level, things would be different. Max was also in control of himself and everything else. Too rigid in that control. He needed to be controlled for once. To be dominated. To let go. And Michael knew that he could do that for Max, and for himself. It would balance out their roles as King and Second. Put them on equal footing. Give them the unity they both, secretly, craved.
Max used all of his, considerable, Alien strength and pushed Michael off him. "This isn't about running away, Michael!" Max hissed. "It's about confusing reality with a fantasy. What you dreamed..about us..it's not..real. And it never will be!"
Michael blocked Max when the other boy tried to step around him and head for the door. "Why are you so afraid of this?" he challenged. Had to say something to convince Max to stay. But if he had to do more, he would.
"I'm not afraid, Michael," Max replied, shaking his head. "I just don't believe in your dream. I belong with Liz...not with you. It's crazy to even think it."
"It's what I feel more than what I think, Maxwell," Michael stated. "And that's why I believe it now. It feels right. I want you...you felt that." Michael reached out and gripped Max's wrist, pulling the other boy's hand down to his bulging crotch. "Feel it now," he whispered.
Max tried to pull his hand away but Michael held him fast. "Don't do this," he begged. "I'm so messed up as it is, Michael. Please don't make it worse."
Michael held Max to him. "I'm trying to make it better, Maxwell," he countered firmly. "For both of us. I need this..and I think you do too. So..I'll make a deal with you. Give me tonight to show you how I feel..what I believe...and if, by morning, you still think it's wrong...then you walk away and we pretend it never happened."
"What are asking me to do, Michael?" Max prompted, as he forced himself to hold the other boy's gaze.
"Let me make love to you," Michael whispered, and it wasn't hard to say. Not hard at all.
Max shook his head. "I.." he wanted to protest but found himself considering the deal. But only because he was so damn tired of being at odds with Michael. Of fighting all the time. And maybe this would be the only way to convince Michael that it wasn't meant to be. Max knew that his destiny was with Liz. Always Liz. "One..one night," Max whispered.
Michael felt himself relaxing. "Thank you," he replied.
"Now what?" Max asked, feeling unsure. At least Michael released his wrist so he could step back.
"Now I show you what is meant to be," Michael breathed. He stalked Max and wasn't surprised when the other boy backed away. Smiled to himself as Max hit the wall, then Michael took action. He gripped handfuls of Max's shirt and ripped it open, revealing the perfect torso to his gaze. Just another reason to envy Max Evan's, Michael thought to himself. Only now he could admire the sculpted chest and abs, could touch them...taste them..and Michael did just that letting hands and lips glide over Max's golden, satiny, skin.
Max shivered at Michael's touch. Sometimes soft, sometimes rough. So different from what he imagined his first time making love would be like. Then Max reminded himself that this wasn't about love. This was sex. The first time he made love it would be with Liz. But he couldn't deny that he felt something as Michael touched him. "Wait!" Max hissed when hands reached for the fastening of his jeans.
Michael stopped and locked eyes with Max. "You promised," he reminded his friend.
"You're moving too fast," Max complained.
"That's how I am," Michael countered with a wry grin. "I go too fast and you go too slow. Together...we might just get it right." That said, Michael undid the button of Max's jeans, then lowered the zipper so he could slip his hand inside the cotton briefs. Laid his palm flat against Max's taut belly and felt the boy shiver. Then Michael inched his fingers downward, feeling crisp hairs, wriggled lower still and touched hot flesh.
Max bit back a moan as he felt Michael's fingers curl around his cock. Bit his lip as Michael pulled him free of the confines of cotton and denim. Then Max swallowed another moan as Michael fell to his knees before him and a hot mouth closed over the tip of his turgid flesh. Max had never felt anything like that before.
Michael felt Max shudder at his touch, even as he felt the cock in his mouth twitch and harden. He knew that this was meant to be. He knew just what to do to make Max mindless with pleasure. And he wanted to do it. Wanted to pleasure Max. Wanted to touch and taste and possess the beautiful boy. Wanted to brand Max as his own. And so Michael worshipped Max's cock with his lips and tongue, feeling Max's lean body quiver, hearing Max's soft moans, and then he felt Max cum, tasted the seed that filled his mouth. But this was only the beginning. There was so much more that he wanted to show Max.
"Michael.." Max whispered, as he felt his knees buckle. Felt the other boy catch him then Max was lifted into Michael's arms and carried to the bed. But as he was laid down upon it he tried to scramble away. Knew what was coming next and just was not ready for it. "I don't think I can do this!" Max hissed.
"You're a man of your word, Maxwell," Michael reminded his friend. "You promised that you would give me this night and I'm holding you to it." As Michael spoke he slipped off Max's sneakers and socks then went to work on removing jeans and briefs. Was pleased that Max allowed it for it meant the boy was keeping his word. "Beautiful.." Michael breathed as he gazed upon the naked wonder that was Max.
"I'm..not," Max whispered, reaching for a pillow, anything...to cover himself with. Felt a flush of embarrassment stain his skin and wanted to disappear.
Michael shook his head. "You are so blind to who and what you are, Maxwell," he countered. "You are beautiful and smart and worthy of being King."
Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want to be King, Michael!" he hissed. "I want...I.." Max sighed. "I don't know what I want anymore," he confessed.
"On your stomach," Michael ordered, pushing Max over. He didn't have a response for Max so he took action over words. On his night table was a bottle of massage oil. Michael was prepared. And he was going to show Max how good he could make him feel. As Michael rubbed the oil between his palms, he smiled. The stuff was edible and he was truly going to enjoy himself. "Relax, Maxwell," Michael instructed as he straddled the boy's taut ass, then he began working the oil into the broad expanse of Max's perfect, muscular back, all the while wishing he had a body like Max's. But Michael knew that such a body didn't come easy. Many a night he had watched Max doing push ups and crunches and chin ups and working with free weights. And all the while Michael had been sitting on the floor chowing down on junk food.
"Why do you do it?" Michael asked.
"Do what?" Max asked, his voice soft. He was starting to relax, letting himself go with the flow as Michael's magic fingers kneaded muscle and flesh.
Michael laughed, forgetting that what he had been thinking was only in his head. "Why do you work out like you do? You've always been obsessive about it, but over the summer you've become like the *perfect* bod. Well..except for the fact that you need to gain about twenty pounds...and I'd be more than happy to share some of my excess poundage. That ought to even us out about perfectly.
Max shook with silent laughter, but it was laughter without humor. "I started working out to be healthy and strong. Fit. But then it became important...because it was something that I had control over. Something that no one could take away from me."
"Pierce," Michael whispered. "We've never really talked about what happened."
"I don't want to talk about it..ever!" Max hissed, and he made to push Michael off him, only to find himself pinned by Michael's heavier weight. "The deal is off!" Max snarled.
Michael rolled Max over onto his back and pinned him once more. "Not a chance," he whispered, then he bent his head and claimed a kiss. And in that moment Michael saw a flash of the hell that had been the white room for Max. What he saw both terrified him and angered Michael. "Bastard!" Michael hissed, breaking the kiss. "I'm glad I killed him!"
Max saw that Michael was about to lose control and he needed to stop it. So he did the only thing he could think of. He drew Michael's head down and kissed him and let him know that he saw things about Michael too. The way it had been with Hank. Michael's agony over having killed Pierce. Michael's confusion and his anger at Max. And through it all was a thread of warmth. The love that bonded them. Friends and brothers and something more. Something Max still wanted to deny.
"No, Maxwell," Michael breathed against sweet lips. Decided it was time to distract his friend and so he let his hands roam over Max's body, fingertips gliding over smooth skin. Letting them map out the perfection that was Max so that Michael could imprint it in his mind. And then he let his lips follow fingers, tasting the tang of Max's satin skin loving the contrast of softness over steel. Michael counted the muscles in Max's abs. No six-pack there, more like and 8 or 10 pack. Then fingers moved lower, scraping over crinkly hairs even as tongue swirled into belly button. Without missing a beat, Michael reached for the oil and poured more into his hands. Let one curl around Max's cock to stroke it to hardness once more while one finger of the other hand found the puckered opening between the taut globes of Max's buttocks.
Max flinched as he felt Michael's finger push into him. He wanted to protest but suddenly Michael's mouth was on his again, swallowing all sound. Felt weird to have the finger inside him, pressing in deep, but Max almost forgot about it since Michael's other fingers were stroking his cock. Max felt himself nearing explosion once again and he cried out into Michael's mouth as he came.
Michael thought that Max had never been more beautiful than in the moment that he came, sweet lips parted, pink tongue peeking out, long lashes fluttering on golden cheeks, taut body shuddering beneath Michael's hands. But he had only just begun. Reaching for the oil once more, Michael freed himself from his jeans and lubricated his aching cock. Wanted to be inside Max. Needed to be connected, body and soul.
"Michael.." Max whispered, as he watched his friend. Knew what was coming next and he had given his word, but he was nervous.
"Just relax, Maxwell," Michael replied, stealing a kiss. Then he pressed Max's legs open, pressing the knees back, and pressed himself between the taut, golden, buttocks. Carefully, Michael eased himself inside, but even so he felt Max flinch and knew he was causing pain.
Max bit his lip, swallowing a gasp of pain as Michael pressed into him. Too thick and too hard. He tried to wriggle back and Michael went still. "I'm sorry," Max whispered.
Michael nodded. "Me too. I don't want to hurt you, Maxwell."
"Wait.." Max said, and he was surprised at himself. "Maybe this will help." Reaching up he pressed one hand to Michael's face and did what he had done once before. A reverse connection. The first time had been with Liz, but this time Max went deeper. He wanted Michael to feel what he was feeling right now, then he would know whether or not he was hurting Max.
"Whoa!" Michael hissed as the connection was made. Hadn't known that Max could do this and would talk to him about it later but, for now, it was enough to experience it. Felt his own cock entering Max. Felt it sheathed in the hot tightness that was Max. Felt the burning pain as cock pressed in deeper and went still.
Max could almost feel what Michael was feeling and it was an odd sensation to say the least. It was like feeling what it was like to be sheathed inside himself. The thought almost made Max giggle, but he forced himself on holding the connection. "Don't stop," he told Michael. He had come this far and would see it through for the sake of them both.
"You sure?" Michael countered, still reeling from the double sensations. Yet he was aching to move, to be sheathed all the way inside of Max.
"I'm..sure," Max whispered, and he raised his legs and wrapped them around Michael's waist, using their strength to press Michael all the way inside him. There was pain, but Max forced himself to relax and it was bearable. Then Michael was all the way in and still again so that Max had time to adjust.
Michael bit his lip for he felt like he was being filled even as he throbbed inside of Max. Sighed with pleasure and bent head to kiss sweet lips. Let his tongue slip inside Max's mouth and tasted himself. Weird, yet somehow right. And then Michael knew that Max was ready for him and he began to move. First he pulled out slowly to press in deep, doing so repeatedly, bulbous head of his cock brushing over Max's hotspot and causing the lithe body to shudder, even as Michael reacted to the sensation and trembled as well. But then the need to explode pressed him to thrust harder and faster and he found that Max was matching his rythmn, and when Michael came and cried out he knew that Max felt it too. Slumping over Max he whispered, "That..that was...incredible."
Max smiled. He shifted under Michael's heavier weight, the connection now broken yet not completely gone. "It was...interesting," he allowed.
Michael sighed. "We belong together, Maxwell!" he insisted. "Why won't you accept that?"
"Give me time," Max requested, pushing at Michael. Felt the cock in him slide out as Michael rolled to his side then Max slid off the bed. Should have felt embarrassed to be naked and exposed in front of Michael, but he wasn't. But that didn't mean he agreed with Michael. But he would think about it. "I'm going to shower then go," Max whispered.
"We have to talk about this, Maxwell," Michael stated.
Max nodded. "We will, Michael," he promised. "Come over tomorrow night."
Michael grinned. "You come here," He countered as he lounged on the bed.
"My place," Max insisted. "We'll go from there." With that he entered the bathroom and closed the door.
"You haven't left yet, Maxwell," Michael drawled to himself as he stretched out and scratched his belly. And he had no intention of letting Max leave until they finished things between them. And the night was still young, and Max had alot to learn.
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