Sweaters & Cigarettes (24 page)

Theo listens silently, remembers
Max mentioning once how his parents really only seem to care about his grades.
He also remembers that note he accidentally found in Max's room, when he spent
the night there, the one that looked like a torn corner of a math test. It had
a nice message from Max's mom on it, and Theo is starting to gather that praise
from his parents is something more rare than Max has really let on, before, and
that it means more to him than he wants to admit. Why else would anyone keep a
note like that?

He doesn't mention it, though. He
felt that Max wouldn't want him to know, back then, and he probably still
wouldn't want him to.

"So, at least I've got that
going for me," Max says, sounding light in the way he tends to do when
trying to ease the tension, when things get too emotional or too serious. He
turns to look at Theo. "I'm pretty smart."

"Max, you're practically a
genius," Theo says, and Max makes a face. It's not the first time Theo has
seen him react that way to a compliment on his intelligence, and it still kind
of confuses him.

"Thanks," Max says, a bit
uncomfortably, glancing away. "I appreciate that. I guess, it just kinda
loses its flavor, when it's the only compliment you ever get from your
parents."

He looks back at Theo, suddenly.

"Shit," he says, sounding
almost appalled. "I didn't mean to put it like that, I'm not trying to be
self-pitying, or anything. None of the whole my-parents-don't-love-me-if-I'm-failing-thing,
I just―"

"It's fine," Theo
interjects. "I wasn't thinking that."

"I just don't wanna be that
guy," Max continues. "You know? The poor, pathetic
over-achiever―"

"Max." Theo's
surprisingly firm tone shuts him up, and they look at each other. "It's
fine. That's not what I think about you, I've never thought that about
you."

He pauses for a moment, as Max
swallows hard.

"I just think it's too
bad," Theo finally says, trying to find a good way of putting it. "I mean,
you're amazing. And I think it's too bad that there's so much counting on what
you do, rather than who you are."

He moves their interlaced hands up
to his mouth and kisses the back of Max's hand.

"Because you are
awesome," he says, even though that word doesn't quite cut it.
"You're amazing, you're... you're just perfect, really."

"I'm really not perfect,"
Max says, shaking his head, and Theo looks at him.

"Well," he says,
"even if you aren't, your lack of perfection makes you perfect."

Max gazes at him for a moment,
chewing on his lip. Then he chuckles.

"That doesn't even make
sense," he says, shaking his head, and Theo smiles.

"It doesn't have to," he
says.

"And it's really cheesy and
poetic," Max continues, still shaking his head, and he laughs as Theo
nudges him softly.

"I can't help it if I'm
eloquent," Theo says. "You're just gonna have to get used to
it."

"I'm getting there," Max
says, and they just stare at each other for a few seconds. It makes Theo feel
slightly ridiculous, and incredibly cliché, but he can't help it.

Eventually, Max sighs, and looks
down at their hands.

"You know what," he says,
but doesn't wait for Theo's reply. "You're good for me."

Theo doesn't really know what to
say to that, but Max saves him the trouble.

"You make me better," he
finally says, and Theo blinks.

"Well," he replies then,
trying to sound light. "You weren't that bad, to begin with."

Max smiles briefly, humoring him,
before turning serious again.

"No, I meant― " he
starts, before sighing. "To me."

Theo frowns, and Max looks up at
him. He looks a bit unsure, almost scared.

"You make me wanna treat
myself better," he says, as though trying to find the right words.
"I've never really, um..."

He looks back at their hands, as he
absently smoothes over Theo's skin with his thumb, pressing his lips together,
considering what to say.

"I've never really cared about
myself," he admits, after several seconds of silence. "Never really
thought I had to. Didn't really think it was worth it. But... you make me feel
like it's worth it."

He looks back at Theo, slowly,
hesitantly, and Theo doesn't look away.

"So, I guess," Max says,
tentatively, "thanks for that."

Theo doesn't answer him right away,
doesn't say anything for several seconds. And Max's expression changes,
enhancing that uncertainty again, the one that borders on fear, while Theo just
watches. Then, Theo suddenly moves, rolling over and placing himself on top of
Max, straddling him. He watches Max's utterly stunned expression, as he leans
down and cups his face with both hands, gently smoothing over the fading bruise
below his cheekbone, the small cut practically healed.

"It is worth it," he
says, his face only inches away from Max's. "
You
are worth
it."

He plants a quick kiss on Max's
mouth, before pulling away again.

"Don't ever think you're
not." He watches Max for a moment, watches those dark blue, slightly
widened eyes, those slightly parted lips. He looks surprised, more than
anything, and Theo continues, his words slightly rushed. "You're the most
amazing person I know, and it kills me that you don't think that about
yourself."

Theo takes a deep breath, surprised
at his own honesty. He doesn't usually talk like this, not with anyone but Max.
And he knows that Max is the same; he would never say these things to anyone
else, and he's clearly having a hard enough time saying them to Theo. The whole
conversation sounds pretty out of character for both of them, actually, but
it's like they've stopped caring; there's no other way of putting any of this,
and it needs to be said.

Theo leans down and places his
forehead against Max's, inhaling. He closes his eyes, as if that makes this
easier to say, for both of them, as if it's not as difficult, if they can't see
each other.

"I just―" Theo cuts
himself off, hears Max breathe, feels his chest rise and fall underneath him.
"I love you so much."

He's shocked as he says it, because
he has never said it like that before, with such intensity. But it's completely
true, and he needs Max to know that, somehow.

Max doesn't reply right away.
Instead, he swallows, moving his hands up to settle on Theo's hips, as though
hesitating for a split second. Then, he moves his face up just an inch, just
enough for his lips to touch Theo's, and Theo immediately melts into him,
reciprocating the kiss.

Max smoothes his hands up over
Theo's back, up to his shoulder blades, so he can pull him down to him, pull
him closer, and for what feels like several minutes, they just kiss. They kiss,
and keep kissing, all warmth and softness and desperate need, but somehow
without the urgency Theo has gotten used to. He likes it, though. For once,
there's no sex, no desire. Only the need to be close, to touch, and to never,
ever let go. He's oddly moved by it, in a way he can't really explain.

"I love you, too." Max's
voice is low, slightly thick with what sounds like emotion, and he moves one
hand up to smooth over Theo's hair. It's a tender gesture, an affectionate one,
and it makes Theo's entire body relax.

"And you're the best thing I've ever had."

Chapter 17

Heat

There are few things in life that feel as amazing as
sleeping right next to the one you love.

Theo has learned this, firsthand,
and although this is only the second time ever that he has done it, he has
already decided that it's one of his favorite things in the entire world.

Max and Theo started dozing off
around midnight, lying together on the bed. They then, in some sleepy, fuzzy
state, managed to strip down to only their underwear, before curling up
underneath the covers to sleep properly, and Theo practically wrapped himself
around Max and pressed his body against that warm, partially inked skin.

They both fell asleep almost
instantly, and Theo isn't quite sure why he's waking up, now.

It takes him a little while to
notice, his head heavy with sleep, and for a few moments, he just lies there,
absently touching Max's skin, still not entirely sure if he's awake or
dreaming. He doesn't mind, though. He doesn't mind, because whether it's a
dream or not, the feeling is simply wonderful.

Max is lying on his side, Theo
notices, Theo spooning him, one arm slung over his chest and one leg loosely
wedged between his. It's warm and nice, soft and safe, and for a little while,
Theo just breathes him in, sleepily inhaling the scent of Max, head still fuzzy
and only half-conscious.

Slowly, Theo starts smoothing his
hand over Max's bare chest, running his fingers along his collarbone, the
hollow of his throat, gently mapping him out with his touch, and he sighs
contentedly, nose burrowed into Max's messy hair. He just loves touching him;
he can't help it.

It's as if of their own accord that
his fingers start moving down along his boyfriend's chest, feeling the outline
of his muscles, his bones, fingertips lightly grazing his nipples and smoothing
down toward his stomach. Max shifts a little bit, then, and Theo vaguely
wonders if he's awake. It's not a very conscious thought, though; Theo is still
barely awake, himself.

He moves his fingers toward Max's
hand, which is resting against the mattress, and gently strokes his knuckles,
softly, slowly, before sliding his palm up along his lower arm. Theo keeps his
eyes closed, but he knows the outlines of the tattoos above the elbow, and he
automatically traces the skin where he assumes them to be. It's not difficult, after
having done it so many times, before.

That's when he feels the hairs rise
on Max's arm, prickling under his touch, and Theo inhales deeply, focusing only
on that. He still doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't need to. There's only
warmth, and skin, and the feeling of those goose bumps underneath his fingers,
as he trails softly along Max's arm and up to his shoulder. It makes Theo feel
safe and loved, and thrilled, all at the same time, in his sleepy,
half-conscious state.

Theo absently moves in closer, presses
his chest against Max's tattooed back, feels the heat of his body, against his
own. It's enough to make him inhale deeply, eyes still closed. He still feels
as though his hand is moving on its own, mapping out Max's skin with soft, slow
tenderness, moving down to his waist.

There is the slightest hint of salt
on Theo's lips, as he softly presses them against Max's neck. It's a vague
taste of warmth and sweat, but Theo likes it, because it's
Max
, and he
does it again, slower this time. He's not sure why; it just comes so naturally
to him.

He feels Max shift slightly beside
him then, against him, and again, he vaguely wonders if he's awake. It's when
he settles his hand on Max's hip that he gets his answer; Max's hand moves up
to cover Theo's, slowly lacing their fingers together, and Theo inhales deeply.

Yes, Max seems to be awake.

He doesn't seem to be much more
conscious than Theo, though, pressing slightly against him, leaning into his
body with his own. It's more of a lazy, languid response, and Theo counters by
moving in even closer, pressing down gently on Max's hip, with his hand. It
makes Max shift slightly, and Theo inhales sharply, as Max's ass presses up
against him.
Damn it
. He's not sure if it's because he's still kind of
half-asleep, but suddenly, Theo is acutely aware of a very different sensation,
one decidedly more intense than the soft, lazy one from a moment ago.

It somehow feels inappropriate. He
can't help thinking that, as the pressure of his hand on Max's hip increases just
the slightest bit. It somehow feels inappropriate, to lie here, pressing up
against Max, when they both seem to be only half-awake, and Theo swallows hard,
trying to ignore the way that warmth starts pooling in his stomach, blood
rushing downward. He can't do this, just like that, press up against Max, while
suddenly imagining all kinds of scenarios in his head. No, he can't do that.

Apparently, though, Theo's body
doesn't care, because that's exactly what he's doing.

He's barely aware of his own breath
becoming slightly heavier, as he places a slow, open-mouthed kiss against Max's
neck. He barely registers how he's suddenly pressing against Max's ass, so
slowly and purposefully, boxers straining over his hard-on, and how his hand
moves down to trail along the hem of Max's underwear. It just happens, and he
hardly has to think about it.

Theo is very aware, though, of the
way Max responds.

It's the moan that does it. Just a
small hint of one, more of a heavy exhale, but it's enough to make Theo tense
up and press more firmly against him. He's certain Max can feel it now, that
hardness grinding into his ass, and as Theo trails his hand over Max's lower
abdomen, Max grips his hand tighter, fingers still entwined. He slowly steers
Theo's hand downward, over the hem of his boxers, and when Theo feels the bulge
underneath that thin fabric, he exhales sharply, nuzzling his face against
Max's neck.

Max is most definitely awake. He's
hard, aroused and eager, and he's hard because of
Theo
, which is somehow
more than Theo can handle.

It doesn't take much more than
that. Theo starts massaging Max through his underwear, Max's hand still on top
of his, which somehow makes it even hotter, especially when Max starts moaning,
and emitting low, deep groans from the back of his throat. Theo presses against
him harder, grinding into his ass, and he can practically hear his own
heartbeat, as he kisses Max's neck, slowly, nipping the skin gently with his
teeth. It's so surreal, somehow, like he's still caught in some kind of amazing
dream. Everything is heightened, every sense acute, every nerve ending
seemingly buzzing with activity.

Max doesn't stop him when he slips
his hand in underneath his boxers and wraps his fingers around him. Instead, he
bites out a rather loud moan, equal parts surprised and pleased, and moves his
hand to Theo's hip, behind him. He moves back against him, pressing and
grinding, and Theo grits his teeth, leaning his forehead against Max's
shoulder. He can't take this. Everything is burning, building, charged with the
memory of every moment that he
hasn't
been able to be with Max, to touch
him, for these past several days, and he can't really think straight.

Theo is completely certain that he
could come right now, just from pressing against Max and hearing him moan, as
he strokes him. It would do the trick, no doubt about it.

But it wouldn't be enough. It
wouldn't be enough, and for once, Theo wants more. So much more.

He takes his hand out of Max's
underwear, but barely has to say or do anything, for Max to take the hint.
Instead, he just pauses for a moment, as Max awkwardly turns around in his
arms, so that they face each other. Theo opens his eyes then, finally, but
finds that it's too dark to make out Max's face properly.

Not that it matters. It doesn't
matter, because as soon as he realizes that those lips are just inches away
from his own, he launches forward, claiming them, and Max reciprocates with
such eagerness that it makes his head spin.

Suddenly, Max's hands are
everywhere. They smooth over Theo's arms, his neck, down over his back and his
hips, before grabbing his ass and pulling him closer. Max starts moving against
him roughly, drawing a deep moan from Theo, who tries to keep himself from
losing control. He's not used to losing control, and he's not sure how to
handle it.

But the way Max bites his lip and
claims his mouth with that wonderful, pierced tongue, and the way he makes
sounds that are simply obscene, is enough to make Theo momentarily forget all
about control and trying to keep it. Instead, it makes him brave, makes him
bold, and he slips his hand underneath Max's boxers, tugging at them slightly,
groaning deeply, relishing the way Max is just as hard as he is.

Max tenses up slightly, sucking in
a sharp breath.

"What's gotten into you?"
he asks, breathing heavily, voice rough from sleep. It's the first thing either
of them has said, since this whole thing started.

Theo lets out something like a
growl, planting hard, searing kisses against Max's throat, sucking marks into
his neck, pressing him closer, grinding against him, skin burning and heart
pounding.

"Want you." The words
come out in a breath, almost unintentionally, but as Theo says them, he knows
it's all he can really think right now, anyway. "I want you, Max."

He has never said anything like
that, before, has never really
felt
anything like that before, not like
this, and the response in Max is immediate. He lets out a heavy moan of
surprised pleasure, as though his entire physical being has some kind of
profound reaction to those words, and his grip on Theo tightens.

"Fuck," he breathes,
sounding completely wrecked. "Jesus christ."

He grabs onto Theo's hair then,
keeps his head in place so that he can kiss him, pulling at his bottom lip with
his teeth and plundering his mouth with his tongue, and Theo lets him. He lets
him take control, lets him push, and Theo ends up on his back, Max straddling
him and grinding down against him. He lets him take his wrists and push them
down into the mattress, lets him kiss his throat and bite his neck, smoothing
over the sensitive skin with his tongue. He lets him take him over completely,
because it's all he wants, right now. Somehow, it's all he has ever wanted.

Everything is suddenly a blur, a
dream-like, intoxicated haze of warm mouths and hot skin, hands everywhere and
filthy moans filling the dark silence of the room. Theo slips his hands
underneath Max's boxers, grabbing his ass and pushing him down against him,
making Max groan loudly, eventually taking those boxers off, completely. Theo's
follow within seconds, ending up somewhere on the floor, and before he knows
it, Max is moving down along his naked body, planting slow, open-mouthed kisses
along his chest and his stomach. He makes his way even further down, and Theo
lets out a low groan, as Max's sure fingers wrap around him, making him close
his eyes again.

Somehow, he's not surprised when he
feels Max's wicked, wonderful mouth swallow him down, but he still emits a
strangled moan that sounds dirtier than he's used to, and he instinctively
grips the sheets as tightly as he can.

Holy shit.

It's not like last time, like the
first time. Maybe it's simply because Theo isn't nervous, this time, or maybe
because he knows what to expect. Either way, it's simply
better.
It's better,
which in itself is shocking, because he honestly hadn't thought it
could
be,
and he barely hesitates, digging his fingers into Max's hair. He doesn't push,
instead simply does it to somehow ground himself, as Max takes him apart with
nothing but his mouth, and Theo uses every ounce of restraint he has to not
thrust up into that warm, wet heat.

He's already getting close. He's
already getting so close, but as he feels it, he suddenly decides he doesn't
want it. He doesn't want to come. Not yet.

"Wait," Theo breathes,
barely able to articulate, and he tugs gently on Max's hair, making him stop
what he's doing. He looks up at Theo, who meets his gaze.

"What is it?" Max asks,
clearly confused and impatient, with a hint of worry.

Theo licks his lips. He's not sure
how to answer, how to put it, so he simply tugs on Max's hair again, softly,
just enough to make him take the hint and move back up along his body. As soon
as he's close enough, Theo pulls him down into a kiss, and when they pull
apart, Max frowns slightly.

"You okay?" he says,
glancing down at Theo's body, a hint of concern in those dark blue eyes. For a
moment, Theo doesn't understand why he's asking, but then he notices that he's
actually
shaking
, if only just a little bit.

"I'm fine," he says,
kissing Max again. "I'm good."

"Really?"

Theo licks his lips again, trying
to find the words.

"I want―" he
starts, but cuts himself off and swallows nervously. "I want to."

Max just looks at him, lips
slightly parted, eyes still hungry, but also confused. Theo sighs, almost
frustratingly, placing his hand against Max's lower back and pulling him down
against him, making them both wince at the unabashed skin-on-skin contact. His
other hand is still in Max's hair, and as he pulls him closer, he's acutely aware
of the both of them breathing heavier, automatically moving slightly against
each other, rutting and grinding.