Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bradley Uppercrust III stood on the steps of the university, the crisp autumn air brushing against his face. His body, though healed from the physical injuries sustained during the X-Games, still bore the mental scars of his public disgrace. Yet, as he looked around at the glares and whispers directed his way, a twisted smile curled on his lips. He thrived on this attention, savoring every bit of it like a fine wine.

It had been a few months since that fateful day. The day he almost had it all, only to watch it slip through his fingers because of those insufferable freshmen. But Bradley wasn't one to dwell on failure. No, he had spent his probationary period meticulously planning his return, and now he was back, ready to reclaim his throne.

"Hey, isn't that the guy who almost killed everyone at the X-Games?" a student muttered to his friend as they passed by.

"Yeah, that's him. What a psycho," the friend replied, casting a wary glance at Bradley.

Bradley's smile widened. Psycho. He liked the sound of that. It had a certain ring to it, a certain power. It made him feel larger than life, invincible. He strutted across the campus, each step exuding confidence and arrogance. The students parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and disgust. And Bradley reveled in it.

His mind raced with plans, schemes to regain his lost glory. The X-Games had been a setback, yes, but it was also a valuable lesson. He had underestimated his opponents, allowed his emotions to cloud his judgment. That wouldn't happen again. He would be more calculated, more ruthless. After all, he had a reputation to rebuild.

As he approached the main building, a familiar face caught his eye. Max Goof, the bane of his existence, was standing by the entrance, chatting with PJ and Bobby. Bradley's blood boiled at the sight of them. They were the reason he was in this mess. They were the ones who had ruined everything. But as much as he despised them, he couldn't help but feel a grudging respect. They had bested him once, but it wouldn't happen again.

"Bradley," Max said coolly, acknowledging him with a nod.

"Max," Bradley replied, his voice dripping with venom. "Enjoying your moment in the sun, I see."

Max shrugged, unfazed by Bradley's hostility. "Just living my life. What about you? Heard you had quite the vacation."

Bradley laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "Oh, it was enlightening. Gave me plenty of time to think."

"Think about what? New ways to cheat?" PJ interjected, his tone accusing.

Bradley's eyes narrowed. "Think about how to deal with obstacles," he said cryptically. "And believe me, I've come up with some very interesting ideas."

As he looked at Max, Bradley felt a twisted thrill course through him. Max's defiance, his strength – it was infuriating, but it also fascinated him. There was something about Max that drew Bradley in, a sick, twisted fascination that he couldn't shake. It was more than hatred; it was an obsession. Bradley's mind was a tangled web of emotions, his outward hostility masking a dark, secret longing.

The tension between them was palpable, a storm waiting to erupt. But Bradley knew this wasn't the time. No, he had to be patient, bide his time. He had a long game to play, and he was just getting started.

As he walked away, Bradley felt a surge of exhilaration. The hate, the fear, the whispers – they were all fuel to his fire. He was back, and this time, nothing would stand in his way. He would rise from the ashes of his failure, more powerful and more dangerous than ever before.

And woe to anyone who tried to stop him.

Bradley retreated to his dorm room, where he meticulously laid out his plan. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and he intended to serve it in a way Max would never forget. He needed a stage, an audience, and the perfect setting. A frat party would provide all three.

He spent the next few days gathering information, listening for any mention of upcoming events. It wasn't long before he heard about the Sigma Alpha Mu party. The frat was known for its wild parties, and this one promised to be no exception. Max would undoubtedly be there, given his newfound popularity.

Bradley used his connections, subtly spreading rumors to ensure Max and his friends would attend. He even managed to get himself invited, playing the part of the reformed student eager to reintegrate. No one suspected a thing.

The night of the party arrived. The Sigma Alpha Mu house was buzzing with energy, music blaring and laughter echoing through the halls. Bradley slipped in unnoticed, his eyes scanning the crowd for Max. It didn't take long to find him, surrounded by friends, enjoying the festivities.

Bradley moved through the crowd, his mind racing with anticipation. He had carefully prepared for this moment, every detail meticulously planned. He approached the makeshift bar, where he gave the girl who was mixing the drinks a special one for Max – one spiked with a potent but undetectable drug that would render Max vulnerable and disoriented.

He watched as Max approached the bar, asking for a drink. Bradley signaled the girl, who discreetly grabbed the concoction that Bradley had mixed and handed it to Max. Bradley's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Max take a sip, then another. It wouldn't take long for the drug to take effect.

Max's movements became sluggish, his eyes glazing over. Bradley moved in, feigning concern. "Hey, Max, you okay? You don't look so good."

Max blinked, trying to focus. "I... I don't feel right."

"Come on, let's get you some air," Bradley said, guiding him towards a quieter part of the house. No one paid much attention; parties like this often had their share of overindulgence.

Bradley led Max to an upstairs room, locking the door behind them. Max stumbled, barely able to stand. Bradley's eyes gleamed with a mix of hatred and twisted desire. This was his moment, his chance to break Max once and for all.

He pulled out his phone, recording as he spoke. "Hey Max, what's going on, buddy?”

Max tried to speak, but his words were slurred and incoherent. Suddenly, his eyes were welling up with tears, and Brad pressed him. “Max, you okay?”

“I just…I don't even know why I'm at this stupid party. PJ is just making out with his stupid fucking girlfriend—” he hiccupped, wiping his nose with his hands, “and Bobby is just always high, he doesn't even give a shit about me. And they both have girlfriends and other people they hang out with, and I don't have anybody.”

Bradley's plan was falling into place. He would record Max's humiliations and use them as leverage later.

Max's eyes were unfocused, but he started to speak, his inhibitions lowered by the drug. "Everyone just pretends to like me because I won the X-Games. Sometimes I feel... so alone."

Bradley felt a surge of triumph. This was better than he had imagined. Max's vulnerabilities, his doubts – they were all coming to the surface. He continued to probe, asking questions that Max, in his drugged state, answered without hesitation.

"What about your dad?" Bradley asked, leaning in closer.

Max's face twisted with emotion. "Dad... he's always trying so hard, but... he embarrasses me. I love him, but... sometimes I just want to be my own person."

Bradley recorded every word, knowing he now had enough to use against Max. But he wasn't finished. He wanted to see just how far he could push him.

"Do you hate me, Max?" Bradley asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and malice.

Max looked at Bradley, his expression a blend of confusion and raw honesty. "I... I don't know. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I think... you could be different."

Bradley felt a twisted thrill at Max's words. The ambiguity, the mix of emotions – it was intoxicating. He had the power now, the control. He could use this footage to make Max do whatever he wanted, to bend him to his will.

Satisfied, Bradley stopped recording and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He looked down at Max, who was barely conscious. "Get some rest, Max. We'll talk again soon."

He left the room, locking the door behind him. The footage he had was his ace in the hole, a weapon he would wield with precision. Max would be at his mercy, forced to comply with whatever demands Bradley made.

As he walked away, Bradley felt a surge of exhilaration mixed with a dark, twisted satisfaction. The game was far from over, and he would continue to scheme, to plot, to find new ways to break Max. But deep down, he knew that no matter how much he tried to destroy him, Max would always have a hold on him. A twisted, sick hold that fueled his hatred and his obsession.

Max woke up in the Sigma Alpha Mu frat house with the worst hangover of his life. His head throbbed, and his mouth was dry. He sat up slowly, realizing he was in an unfamiliar room. Panic set in as he tried to piece together the events of the previous night. His phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table, the screen lighting up with a barrage of messages.

He grabbed his phone and squinted at the screen, the light too bright for his aching eyes. There were multiple worried texts from PJ and Bobby.

PJ: Max, where are you? You okay?

Bobby: Dude, you disappeared last night. We're worried!

Max groaned, rubbing his temples as he tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he recalled was having a drink at the bar. Everything after that was a blur.

Then, a new message caught his eye. It was from an unknown number. He opened it, his heart pounding in his chest.

Unknown Number: Hope you enjoyed the party, Max. I have something you might want to see. Video Attachment

Max's stomach churned with dread as he opened the video. It was footage of him in the upstairs room, drugged and vulnerable, spilling his deepest fears and insecurities to Bradley. His face flushed with shame and anger as he realized the extent of his humiliation.

Another message from the same number appeared.

Unknown Number: Do as I say, and this stays between us. Cross me, and everyone sees this. Meet me at the old library after classes.

Max's hands shook as he read the message. He knew who it was from—Bradley. The realization sent a chill down his spine. Bradley had him cornered, and there was no way out.

Max took a deep breath and texted PJ and Bobby back.

Max: I'm okay, guys. I'll explain later. Need some time to think.

He got up slowly, his body protesting every movement. He had to find a way to deal with this, but right now, he felt utterly lost and trapped. The thought of facing Bradley filled him with dread, but he knew he had no choice.

Later that day, Max stood outside the old library, his heart racing. He felt a mix of anger and fear, but he knew he had to confront Bradley. He couldn't let this blackmail ruin his life.

Bradley appeared, a smug grin on his face. "Max, so good to see you," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity.

"What do you want, Bradley?" Max asked, his voice tense.

Bradley held up his phone, the video still open on the screen. "I want you to follow my instructions. Do exactly as I say, and no one ever has to see this. Disobey, and your life here is over."

Max clenched his fists, feeling a surge of helpless rage. "And what exactly do you want me to do?"

Bradley leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You'll find out soon enough. For now, just know that I own you. And if you ever try to cross me, this video goes public."

Max swallowed hard, the weight of Bradley's words sinking in. He was trapped, at Bradley's mercy. The twisted satisfaction in Bradley's eyes made Max's skin crawl, but he knew he had no choice but to comply.

Over the next few days, Bradley wasted no time in exploiting his control over Max. He started with small demands—carrying his books, doing his assignments—but the power he held only fueled his sadistic desires. Each task was a reminder of Max's helplessness, a twisted game that Bradley enjoyed immensely.

Max's friends noticed the change in him. PJ and Bobby grew increasingly worried, but Max couldn't bring himself to tell them the truth. The fear of the video being released was too great.

One evening, Bradley called Max to his dorm room. Max arrived, his face set in a mask of resignation. "What do you want this time?" he asked, his voice hollow.

Bradley smirked, enjoying the sight of Max's submission. "I have a new task for you, Max. You're going to be my towel boy."

Max's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

Bradley's expression darkened. "I'm very serious. You'll be at my beck and call, attending to my every need. And if you refuse, you know what happens."

Max felt a wave of despair wash over him. The thought of being at Bradley's mercy, reduced to a servant, was humiliating. But he knew he had no choice. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll do it."

Bradley's smile returned, a twisted expression of triumph. "Good. You start tomorrow morning. Be at the gym at 6 AM sharp."

The next morning, Max stood outside the gym, his face a mask of resignation. He had arrived early, not wanting to give Bradley any excuse to release the video. Bradley arrived shortly after, looking smug and self-satisfied.

"Right on time," Bradley said, clapping Max on the shoulder. "Let's get started."

Max spent the next hour fetching towels, filling water bottles, and cleaning up after Bradley. Max's anger simmered beneath the surface, but he knew he had to keep it in check.

After the gym, Bradley continued to find ways to humiliate Max. He made him carry his books, fetch his meals, and even run errands for him.

Max couldn't take it anymore. The constant humiliation, the degrading tasks, the fear of the video being released – it was all too much. He had to confide in someone, and he knew exactly who to turn to.

Max met PJ and Bobby in their usual hangout spot at the Bean Scene. They could tell something was seriously wrong as soon as they saw the look on his face.

“Max, what’s going on?” PJ asked, his voice full of concern.

Max took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I need to tell you guys something, but you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone. Not a single soul.”

PJ and Bobby exchanged worried glances before nodding. “We promise, Max,” Bobby said. “What’s up?”

Max took another deep breath and began to explain everything – the party, the drugged drink, the humiliating video, and Bradley’s blackmail. PJ and Bobby listened in stunned silence, their expressions growing darker with each word.

When Max finished, there was a heavy silence. Finally, Bobby spoke up. “Max, this is messed up. But... I think there’s something you’re missing.”

Max frowned. “What do you mean?”

PJ hesitated before speaking. “Max, think about it. Bradley’s always had it out for you, sure, but this level of obsession... it’s almost like he wants to be close to you. In his own sick way.”

Max stared at them, disbelief written all over his face. “What? No way. Bradley hates me.”

Bobby shrugged. “Maybe. But sometimes people act out in weird ways when they’re... interested in someone. Just think about it, Max.”

Max couldn’t shake their words from his mind. He mulled it over, replaying every interaction with Bradley in his head. The intensity of Bradley’s actions, the way he seemed to relish their interactions – it started to make a twisted kind of sense.

Max went through the motions of his day, trying to focus on his classes, but PJ and Bobby's words lingered in his mind. He replayed his interactions with Bradley, scrutinizing every glance and word. The thought that Bradley might be attracted to him felt absurd, but the more he considered it, the more he saw a twisted logic in Bradley's actions.

Bradley summoned Max to carry his books between classes. As Max walked beside him, he felt Bradley's eyes on him, not with the usual contempt, but with something more complex, more unreadable. Max forced himself to ignore it, completing the task and walking away without a word.

Max spent most of the next day trying to avoid Bradley, but it was impossible. Bradley found him in the cafeteria, demanding that he fetch his lunch. As Max did so, he caught glimpses of Bradley watching him, a smug smile playing on his lips. The intensity of Bradley's gaze unnerved him, and he couldn't help but wonder if PJ and Bobby were right.

That night, Max lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He tried to shake the feeling that Bradley's actions were driven by more than just a desire to humiliate him. The thought was both repulsive and strangely compelling.

The next day, Bradley had Max cleaning his room, a task designed to be as degrading as possible. As Max scrubbed the floor, he felt Bradley's eyes on him, watching his every move. The silence was oppressive, filled with unspoken tension.

When Max finished, Bradley stood over him, his expression unreadable. "You missed a spot," he said, his voice low and taunting. Max looked up, meeting Bradley's eyes, and for a moment, he saw something in them – a flicker of something deeper, something that sent a chill down his spine.

Max left Bradley's room feeling more confused than ever. The idea that Bradley's torment was a twisted form of attraction gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake it.

Max tried to focus on his friends and his studies, but Bradley's presence was inescapable. Every time he saw Bradley, the tension between them seemed to grow. Bradley's demands became more frequent and more demeaning, as if he was testing Max's limits.

PJ and Bobby continued to support Max, but they could see the toll it was taking on him. "You need to do something, Max," PJ said one evening. "You can't keep letting him control you."

Max nodded, but he felt trapped. The video was a constant threat, and he didn't know how to fight back.

Max finally reached his breaking point. Bradley had him follow him to the gym early in the morning, demanding that Max be his towel boy again. As Max handed Bradley a towel, their hands brushed, and he saw the smirk on Bradley's face, the satisfaction of his control.

Something snapped in Max. The fear and anger boiled over into a resolve he hadn't felt before. PJ and Bobby's words echoed in his mind, and he decided he couldn't take it anymore.

Max stood outside Bradley’s dorm room, his heart pounding. He had made up his mind. It was time to confront Bradley once and for all. He knocked on the door, his resolve firm.

Bradley opened the door, a smug grin on his face. “Max, right on time as always. Ready for your next task?”

Before Bradley could say anything else, Max stepped forward, grabbed Bradley by the shirt, and kissed him hard on the lips. Bradley’s eyes widened in shock, his body tensing. He didn’t resist, but his hands hovered uncertainly, not pushing Max away but not embracing him either.

When Max finally pulled back, Bradley looked at him with a mixture of anger and confusion. “What the hell was that?” he demanded, trying to sound offended, but his voice was unsteady.

Max took a step back, his eyes locking onto Bradley’s. “I’m done with your games, Bradley. You’ve had your fun, but now it’s over. I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

Bradley’s facade of anger cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability. He took a step back, his bravado faltering. “You think you can just kiss me and everything will change?”

Max stood his ground, his voice steady. “I think you’re more afraid of your feelings than you are of me, Bradley. And now, I have the power. If you keep trying to control me, I’ll tell everyone about this.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed, but before Max could react, Bradley grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. Max barely had time to register what was happening before Bradley shoved him against the door, his eyes wild with a mix of rage and something darker.

“You think you can just walk away after that?” Bradley hissed, his face inches from Max’s. “You think you have the power now?”

Max’s heart raced, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Yes, Bradley. I do.”

Without warning, Bradley crushed his lips against Max’s in a forceful, desperate kiss. Max could feel the tension in Bradley’s body as Bradley’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, almost painfully, as if he were trying to assert his dominance, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of need.

Max didn’t resist, meeting Bradley’s kiss with a determined intensity. He knew this was his moment to shift the power balance completely. As Bradley pulled back, breathing heavily, Max saw the deranged look in his eyes, a mix of anger, confusion, and raw emotion.

“You’re a fool, Max,” Bradley said, his voice trembling. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Max’s voice was steady, despite the chaos inside him. “Maybe I don’t. But I’m done playing your games.”

A low growl erupted from the back of Bradley's throat, and he leaned back in to press his lips to Max's once more. This time, though, Max was ready. He grabbed Bradley by his wrists and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with an intense passion. Bradley was momentarily stunned, and Max took advantage of the situation, flipping him around so that Bradley was the one pinned against the door. He pinned his hands above his head against the door with one hand, the fingers of his other digging into Bradley's waist, not really caring if it hurt him or not. 

The intensity of their kiss grew, both of them lost in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. Bradley's initial resistance melted away as he responded to Max's dominant touch. Their lips moved together hungrily, tongues exploring each other's mouths. The tension that had built up between them over months of hostility and unspoken desires now exploded in a fierce, primal way.

Max's grip on Bradley's wrists tightened, his body pressing firmly against Bradley's to keep him pinned against the door. He could feel Bradley's heart racing, matching the frantic beat of his own. The kiss was rough and unrelenting, a clash of teeth and tongues, filled with all the anger, frustration, and twisted attraction that had simmered beneath the surface.

Bradley let out a muffled moan against Max's lips, his body arching slightly into Max's touch. Max's free hand slid from Bradley's waist up to his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of Bradley's breaths. He could feel the heat radiating from Bradley's skin, the electric charge between them growing stronger with each passing second.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Max looked into Bradley's eyes, seeing the conflict and desire swirling within them. He leaned in again, capturing Bradley's lips in another searing kiss, this time more deliberate and controlled. Bradley's initial aggression had given way to something more submissive, his body responding instinctively to Max's lead.

Their kisses became deeper, more synchronized, as they found a rhythm that expressed the complicated mix of emotions they both felt. Max's fingers intertwined with Bradley's, holding his wrists firmly against the door while his other hand traced a path down Bradley's torso, eliciting shivers and gasps.

He suddenly pulled away to look at Bradley, really look at him. He was a mess. His hair was messy, his face bright red and his lips wet and swollen. His button-down shirt was disheveled from Max's hand all over his body, and he was panting and looking at Max with possibly the most intense gaze Max had ever received. Max couldn't handle it, and suddenly he was dragging Bradley further into the room, pushing him down on his bed. Bradley suddenly looked pissed. 

“I don't know what you think you're doing, freshman—” he hissed out, “But you are not…”

His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Max pulling his shirt over his head. Brad's eyes dropped down to his body, his face flushing even deeper somehow as they snapped back up to his face and continued, “you are not…”

Max crawled up the bed slowly, pushing Bradley's thighs apart as he made his way back up to him.

“Going to….”

Brad's voice softened as Max's face reached his, his breath ghosting over his lips, “not going to what, Brad?”

“...fuck me.” Bradley whispered out, before leaning up and pressing his lips to Max's once more in a hungry, desperate kiss. 

Bradley gripped at Max's collar, trying to regain some semblance of control, but Max was having none of it. He grabbed him by the wrists again, pinning them above his head as his eyes bore into Bradley's, a smirk now playing on his lips. “Are you sure about that, Brad? Because to me…” Max held up one finger before placing it directly on Brad's chest, “it looks like…” he continued, trailing his finger down Bradley’s torso once more, stopping right at the waistband of his pants. Bradley bit his lip, trying to keep an angry expression on his face, but it came off more needy than anything else. “...you're begging for it.” Max finally finished his sentence.

Bradley let out a whine, his hips involuntarily bucking upwards as Max's finger brushed over the tiny bit of exposed skin between his shirt and the waistband of his pants. Max pulled his hand away, shaking his finger at Brad, “ah, ah, ah…you need to ask for it. Politely. Be a good boy.” Bradley glared up at him, defiance clear in his eyes. Max took it as an opportunity, leaning down and beginning an assault on Bradley’s neck, his tongue and teeth everywhere as he drew his knee up between Brad's legs, pressing gently against his groin but not applying nearly enough pressure. Bradley let out a moan of pure need and tried to yank his hands from Max's grasp, but Max's grip on them only tightened as he bit down on Brad's neck, hard. 

Bradley let out a loud yelp of pain, and Max pulled away, checking his face. A small part of Max still wanted to make sure Bradley was okay, despite the ferocity of what they were doing. Bradley showed no signs of resistance, biting his lip and gazing up at Max. Max took it as a sign and applied slightly more pressure between Bradley's legs, his free hand making its way to his waistband once more. Bradley's head rolled back and his eyes fell shut as he let out another moan.

“C'mon Brad….it's not that hard.” 

Bradley rolled his eyes, finally relenting, “Fine. Please, Max…” he mumbled out, trailing off as his eyes drifted to the side. 

“Please what, Bradley? Use your words.” Max pressed, removing his knee from Bradley's crotch and sliding his free hand down, a sinister grin making it's way onto his face, showcasing his gap toothed smile. His hand slid down Bradley's thigh, and then back up. He paused over his bulge, brushing over it ever so slightly. That tiny bit of pressure caused Bradley to buck his hips up again. 

Bradley looked right up at him, his eyes sharpening into the meanest glare Max felt he had ever received from Bradley. “Fuck…just touch me…fuck me, whatever you want. Please.” Bradley finally said, his nose scrunching up in disgust at his own words. 

It didn't take a second before Max had released his wrists, and his hands were all over him. Pushing up his shirt, not bothering to unbutton it or take it off before he dipped his head down, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites down Bradley's chest and belly. He stopped upon reaching his pants, quickly unbuttoning them and pulling them down Bradley's slender legs along with his underwear, and suddenly Bradley Uppercrust III was completely exposed to him. 

Max just threw his pants to the side, leaning down again to bite down on Bradley's hip bone, his lips and teeth following Bradley's v-line down. Bradley stifled a moan, his now free hands finding their way to Max's hair, his fingers curling into it as Max moved down to his thighs, biting the inside of them and looking up at him as he pushed his knees up over his shoulders. 

By the time Max finally made his way to Bradley's dripping length, Bradley was panting, his neglected member dripping with precum and twitching ever so slightly. Max grabbed it with one hand, stroking up and down the length a few times as he stared up at Bradley, who was already threatening to fall apart. Soft moans of pleasure dripping with a few curses directed at Max fell from Bradley’s lips as he ran his thumb over the tip of his cock. Max drank in those sweet sounds, and for once he was absolutely mesmerized by Bradley, in utter shock that Bradley was even capable of making such noises. He finally leaned in and nuzzled the base of Bradley's cock, his tongue swiping out as he left a small, wet kiss there. Bradley let out a pathetic, needy sound, which was like music to Max's ears. He finally trailed his tongue up Bradley's length, rolling it over his tip before taking him into his mouth. 

“F…fuck..!” Bradley called out suddenly and his grip on Max's hair tightened, his hips bucking up as he twitched violently in Max's mouth. Max barely had a moment to react before he felt Bradley's hot cum shooting into his mouth. Max was a bit bewildered, but quickly regained his composure, taking all of Bradley’s load and swallowing it, allowing Bradley to ride out his orgasm. 

As Bradley finished, Max finally pulled away from him, grinning up at Bradley mischievously. “Just like that, huh? I barely even had to touch you.” Bradley's face lit up, humiliation evident in his eyes as he wrinkled his nose up and glared down at Max, “sh..shut the hell up, freshman.” 

“So you've still got some attitude in you, hm? That's no good…” Max sat back on his knees, unbuttoning his own pants. Bradley looked up at him, “what the hell are you doing now?” 

Max leaned forward, whispering into Bradley's ear, “I'm going to fuck that attitude right out of you,” he paused for a moment, sitting back again and lifting his legs to pull the pants off, “you know, for someone with such a big ego…” he trailed off again, his pants making a loud thunk as he discarded them on the floor beside the bed, “you sure do moan like a whore.” Bradley's eyes lit up with fury again, and Max started to realize that he loved that look in his eyes, god it turned him on. 

Max flipped Bradley onto his front, lifting his hips up and guiding him to support them with his knees. He looked so good like this, and he had such a slutty little waist…for a second, Max could hardly breathe. He managed to get ahold of himself, knowing he had to properly prep him first— a little bit of pain would be fine, but he didn't want to rip him apart. He leaned forward, speaking softly into Bradley's ear, “where do you keep your lube, baby?” He felt Bradley tense up beneath him, and he could practically feel his anger pulsating.

“I don't fucking have any, Goof. Do you seriously think I'm the type of guy who lets men fuck me?” He seethed, his face buried in his arms. Max tried not to laugh at the defiance, the pure irony of the position Brad was in as those words fell from his lips.

“I don't know, with this slutty little waist…” Max trailed off, his hands traveling down Brad's waist again and gripping onto his hips. 

“Ugh…just shut up.” 

Max smiled to himself, seeing the blush creep up the back of Bradley's neck and reach his ears. “It's fine. I always keep some on me…just in case.” Max replied, reaching over the side of the bed and into his pants pocket, pulling out a tiny, travel-sized bottle of lube.

“Just in case of what, freshman? Like you get any-” Bradley's sentence was cut off with a gasp ripping it's way through his throat as he felt the cold liquid pressing against his exposed hole. Max smirked, feeling a surge of power going through him as he slowly pressed his finger inside. “Wanna finish that sentence, Brad?” He teased as he started gently pumping his single finger in and out of Bradley. Bradley pressed his face into his pillows, his moans softer and more subdued now. 

Upon hearing those sounds once more, and seeing Bradley's hips shaking with anticipation, Max added a little bit more lube, inserting a second finger. Bradley lifted his head off the bed, throwing it back and gasping loudly. Max's fingers started moving in and out of him much quicker now, scissoring inside him and stretching him open. He curled his fingers inwards, brushing over his prostate with intent. Max felt like he was going to die from the anticipation, from watching Bradley fall apart right before his eyes. It was turning him on like nothing else, seeing the previous king of the campus turned into a moaning, whimpering slut beneath him. He added a third finger, his free hand reaching around Bradley's waist and gripping his cock, stroking up and down his shaft a few times. Bradley's moans turned into curses as he pressed back against Max's hand, trying to take his fingers deeper into him. Max then pulled his fingers away, letting go of Bradley's cock and sitting back on his knees to put lube on his own member. 

Bradley whimpered at the loss, “what are you doing back there?” He asked in between breaths. Instead of responding, Max pressed his thick, lubed up cock against Bradley's hole. Bradley whimpered again, his fingers clinging to the sheets as he mentally prepared himself for what was coming. Max lined himself up with one hand, his other gripping Bradley's waist as he slowly started to push his way into him. Bradley took several deep breaths, trying to distract himself from the pain he felt at being stretched open by Max's thick cock. Meanwhile, Max was using every ounce of his willpower not to grab Bradley by the waist and slam him back onto his cock. When he finally bottomed out, he let out a soft sigh, relishing in the feeling of Brad squeezing around him. Brad let out a moan of his own, his cock twitching at the feeling of being so full. 

After giving Bradley a bit to adjust to him, he slowly pulled his hips back before rolling them into him again, letting out another soft sigh. “Mmmf….Max…” Bradley moaned out, feeling Max brush up against his prostate, shooting a spark of pleasure throughout his body. “Fuck….fuck. Fuck me!” Bradley managed to gasp out, his hips pressing back against Max's. Max happily obliged, pulling back before thrusting into him again. Another loud moan fell from Bradley's lips, then a gasp, then a whine as Max started to pick up the pace, fucking him into his bedsheets. It still wasn't enough for Brad — not hard enough, or fast enough.

“Ma-ah-ax…” Bradley managed to gasp out between moans and thrusts, his hips beginning to push backwards against Max's, meeting him in his thrusts. “Mmnf…harder.. please.” He groaned out as he placed his hands on the bed underneath where his chest was laying, pushing himself up to gasp for air. Max felt something feral rip through him and he gripped at Bradley's hip with one hand, his fingers digging into it while his other hand grabbed Bradley by the back of his neck, shoving him back down into the sheets. Max leaned over him, his front brushing against Bradley’s back. Bradley's shirt had ridden all the way up by now, and Max was starting to regret not ripping it off him when he had the chance. He tugged the collar down, exposing the skin of Bradley's shoulder before he bit down on the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. At this point he was pounding into Bradley with ferocity, anger, hatred, and pure unadulterated lust. Bradley let out a scream of pleasure mixed with pain from the bite as Max's hands both snaked their way around his torso, one of them holding him steady so he could continue to drill into him while the other grabbed at his dripping cock, stroking it viciously — not an ounce of the gentleness from before was left in him. His other hand made it's way to Bradley's left nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. 

God the sounds Bradley was making were like something straight out of a porn video. Max could hardly control himself, he felt his climax approaching at the speed of light as he began to speed up his thrusts, pulling Bradley back to meet his hips sloppily while he jerked at his cock roughly. He was panting, his breaths catching the back of Bradley's ear as he finally came, filling Bradley up with his hot seed. He continued to thrust into him during his climax, fucking his cum into him, hammering at Bradley's prostate as the older man let out the loudest string of moans, groans, and gasps Max had ever heard. Max finally finished, slamming Bradley's hips back on his. 

Once Max was fully satisfied, he pulled out of Bradley, resulting in a subsequent whimper from the other man's mouth. Max wasn't finished with him yet though, as he leaned back on the bed, pulling Bradley onto his lap, his back still facing towards him. Max's legs were on either side of him, his arms still snaked around his waist as he continued to jerk him off, wanting nothing more than to bring him another climax. His other hand absently unbuttoned the top few buttons of Bradley's shirt, pulling it down over his shoulder so that he could gently kiss the back of his neck. This sent Bradley over the edge, moaning and gasping and clawing at Max's arm that was now resting over his chest, he came for the second time. Max continued littering gentle kisses over the back of his neck as if to soothe him, and Bradley went limp in his arms, both of his hands resting on Max’s arm that was wrapped around his chest. Max sighed into him, his fingers finding their way to Brad's with his now free hand, intertwining them together. 

“See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?” Max cooed at him. Bradley kept his mouth shut for once, and Max gently turned him around, lying him back onto his back. Looking at the work of art beneath him, he felt almost guilty, seeing the swollen bite marks and hickies littered all over Bradley's body. His lips, his neck, his chest, hips, thighs…but a small part of him was also proud of his work, seeing Bradley's soft, tired expression beneath him rather than his usual smug, hateful, arrogant one. Max reached down and gently unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, pulling his arms through the sleeves so that Brad was completely naked beneath him. Bradley was still panting, sweaty, covered in cum. But his eyes were too tired. He was falling asleep. Max couldn't allow that.

“C’mere…” Max sighed out, his arms scooping up underneath Bradley, gently picking him up princess-style. He carried him to the adjoined bathroom, setting him down on the toilet seat before starting to run some warm water. “Let me know if it's too hot.” He said, looking to Bradley, who looked like he was about to pass out sitting there. Bradley nodded, a tired smile finding it's way to his lips. In the brighter light of the bathroom, Max was able to get a better look at all the bites, and he winced at the sight of them— he had certainly done a number on Bradley's body. Bradley let him help him up and into the bath, and he relaxed in the tub while Max softly rubbed a sponge over his back, chest, stomach, legs… 

“I hate you so fucking much,” Bradley suddenly said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know you do.”

Weeks passed, and things had mostly returned to normal for Max— except that now, every time he had a run in with Bradley, a heated argument, or even an actual violent fight, it always ended with them making out or with Max fucking Bradley's brains out. It was intoxicating for him, the thrill of not knowing what would make Brad snap next, and Brad was so fucking sexy when he did. He was so needy, and his body reacted to Max's so easily it was like breathing.

Intoxicating was the right word, because what they had was toxic. Violet. Hateful, cruel, demanding. Max was Bradley's dark desire, and Bradley was Max’s dirty little secret. His little psycho. 

Chapter Text

Bradley broke the kiss, panting heavily, his forehead resting against Max’s. “You’re not making this easy, freshman,” he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and desire.

“Still trying to fight it, huh, Brad?” Max said between kisses. “You always were stubborn.”

Brad leaned in, his lips brushing against Max's ear as he whispered into it, “if you have such a problem with it, why don't you fuck it out of me.”

Max pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, is that what you want? Maybe you should learn some manners first."

Bradley’s eyes flashed with anger and desire. "You think you can teach me, Goof? You're barely keeping it together yourself.”

“Mm, you weren't complaining about my manners when I was fucking you into your bed.” Max said softly, his mouth connecting with Bradley's neck as he pushed up his shirt. Bradley gasped and sighed as his fingers found their way to Max's hair, his body reacting instinctively to him. Max growled and bit down on his neck, and Bradley flinched. He still had a tender bite mark left there from last time. At the same time, he enjoyed the sting of the soreness. He pushed his hips forward on Max's lap, his bulge pressing up against Max's.

Max groaned and pulled away from Bradley’s neck, his hands pushing Bradley's shirt up over his head. He then wrapped his arms around Bradley as support as he turned him around and laid him on the bed. This time, Brad was facing towards him, his chest bare and his eyes glaring up at him. Max felt like he could die at that sight, but he decided not to. Instead, his fingers traveled up Bradley's torso, brushing over his skin ever so slightly, being careful to avoid pressing too hard over the bruise there. 

“God, you're delicious.” Max commented, his fingers traveling back down to the button of Bradley’s pants, undoing it with haste.

“And you were so bad today…” Max continued, unbuttoning his own pants, “you must really be in need of an attitude adjustment.” 

“God dammit, freshman, just shut up and fuck me already. I'm not in the mood for your games.” Bradley hissed out, venom dripping from his lips. “I've waited long enough.” He added.

“Say please?” Max pressed, his pants hitting the floor.

“No.” Bradley bit back.

“Then no.” He started getting back up, grabbing his pants off the floor.

“Fuck, wait…” Brad's arm draped over his face, wanting to hide his embarrassment. “Please.” he whined out.

And Max was suddenly on top of him. His eyes, mouth, and teeth were all over him, starting at his neck and then his chest, licking over his nipples and biting at them. Max grabbed Brad's hard length with his hand, looking up and watching as his face contorted with pleasure as he worked him. Max felt pride at that, that he could make Brad feel this way. Only he could. And he needed to make sure he knew that.

“Ah…Max….” Bradley moaned out, “please. I can't wait…” Brad's own shaky hands made their way to Max's thick length, nervously grabbing it. There was an uncertainty in his actions as he had never touched Max before, not like this. Max groaned heavily at the feeling and licked over the spot on Bradley's chest that he was in the middle of assaulting, blowing cool air over it. Bradley let out a sigh of pleasure as he started slowly, sloppily stroking up and down Max's cock. 

Max felt like he would fall apart at Brad's touch. He reached down and grabbed his hand, stopping him and pulling his hand away. Instead, Max pressed their dripping members against one another, taking both of them into his hand as he started slowly jerking both of them off at the same time. Bradleys head tilted back and his breathing deepened as he let out a soft moan, the feeling of Max's cock pressed right up against his driving him mad. As if he wasn't already.

Max bit his lip at the sight of Bradley beneath him, moaning and panting with his arm draped over his face. He couldn't take it.

Bradley whined out loud as Max pulled away from him, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing a bottle of lube. Max looked down at Bradley, who was now looking back up at him, his lips slightly parted and panting. God, he wanted him so bad. Max leaned down and pecked those lips before he squirted some lube into his hand, haphazardly spreading it over his cock. 

Max's fingers then made their way to Bradley's hole, and Brad gasped and gripped the sheets above his head at the sudden intrusion. Max pounded his fingers in and out of Bradley roughly, his free hand going to Bradley’s cock and stroking him. Bradley gasped and moaned, his back arching up off the bed in pleasure. 

And seemingly just as soon as they'd entered him, Max's fingers were gone, replaced by the feeling of his thick member rubbing against his entrance. Brad groaned and squirmed beneath him, wishing Max would just hurry up and put it in already. When Max finally did so, he had no resolve left in him, slamming his cock into Bradley hard. Bradley yelped and cried out at the feeling, his body trembling at the pressure and slight pain at being so suddenly full. Bradley clawed at the sheets beneath him as his legs wrapped themselves around Max's waist, almost subconsciously. 

“Fuck, you look so good, begging for my cock…” Max groaned out, pulling back before thrusting his hips into Bradley again. “Such a good little slut.”

Max's thumb rubbed softly over Brad's hips as he began to pick up the pace, thrusting in and out of him with fervor. His free hand had Bradley's dripping, neglected cock in it as he fucked into him, his hips slamming in and out as Bradley let out string after beautiful string of moans and curse words. “I wonder what everyone would think if they knew the great Bradley Uppercrust III, liked getting fucked in the ass by a freshman.”  

Brad let out a loud moan at that, his back arching off the mattress as he cried out, “ahn..Max! I'm cum-” his sentence was cut off by a loud cry of pleasure ripping through him, his back arching off the bed and his fingers clenching the sheets even tighter. His cock twitched as he released spurts of cum all over his own torso. He moaned so loud, Max was sure someone would hear him. As he released, his hole clenched and quivered around Max, who groaned and thrusted into him, hard. 

Max kept up his pace, not giving Bradley a moment to recover from his daze. Bradley’s toes curled and his legs tightened around Max's waist, and suddenly Max was finishing inside of him again, the feeling of release heavenly.

Max then collapsed beside Bradley, panting and sweaty. He turned to face Bradley, who was already looking at him with an unreadable expression. Max pulled Bradley into his chest, his fingers running up and down his back as he hummed to him, pressing soft kisses of appreciation to his forehead. Bradley nuzzled his face into Max's chest, sighing. 

“If you hate me so much, why do you let me hold you like this?” Max whispered to him, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

Bradley didn't respond.

It was impossible for Max to resist Brad. He had to learn that the hard way.

Every single time they managed to find themselves alone together, Max was on him in seconds, pulling at his clothes and trying to bend him over in some new, exciting way.

This time was no different.

Well, it was a little different.

Bradley let out a muffled moan above him, his thighs spread wide as he straddled Max. He had a gag in his mouth, his hands tied behind his back as Max's own hands held his hips, steadying him. It was one of the best views of Max's life, seeing Bradley above him, in such a submissive position. Max groaned as he thrusted up into Bradley, feeling his tight warmth surrounding him. Bradley was glaring down at him angrily, his nose wrinkled up in disgust at the position he was in. Max pulled him down to meet his hips, causing another muffled cry of pleasure to escape Bradley, who was trying so hard to look angry. 

Bradley couldn't believe he'd let himself get into this position. He never thought in his wildest dreams that he'd wind up riding Max's cock, gagged, with his hands tied behind him so he couldn't touch himself. 

“God, you look so good like this…” Max let out a groan, thrusting his hips up into Bradley again, “Like you were born to do it.” Brad let out another moan, which he stifled, looking down at Max, anger fuming in his eyes. 

“Mmmf..!” He protested, but then threw his head back in pleasure as Max pulled him down on him again. 

“Again with that fucking attitude. You do realize–” Max paused, reaching a hand between Bradley's legs and gripping his cock in his hand, giving it a few rough strokes, “–I am literally balls deep inside of you?” 

Brad's face flushed red with anger, embarrassment, and shame, but he still whimpered and moaned, his hips grinding down on Max's. 

“Mmnnf! Nnng!” Bradley said in response, his words muffled by the gag in his mouth. Max rolled his eyes at him, rolling his hips upward at an angle that rubbed his prostate in just the right way. 

“Shhh. Just shut up and ride me like a good little slut.” He commanded, his thumb sliding it's way up the underside of Bradley's cock, eliciting another moan from the older man. 

Bradley obliged, sloppily bouncing his hips up and down on Max's, moaning and crying out into the gag in his mouth every time he felt Max push into him. Max had to keep both of his hands on his hips for him to keep steady, Bradley's slender legs not necessarily built for this level of intensity.

Max let out a groan, his fingers digging into Bradley's skin once more. Bradley might as well have just gotten the fingernail marks tattooed on his hips at this point. Max's own head tilted back and his eyes slipped shut at the pleasure. He wanted to watch, see Bradley's face as he took his cock, but he knew the sight would make him fall apart. He bucked up into him a few times, meeting his hips and groaning as he heard Bradley's cries of pleasure and frustration above him. 

He finally looked up at him, Bradley's face twisted in an expression of ecstasy, for once not having the willpower to feign anger. Their eyes locked into each other's, and there was no warning before Max felt his cock twitch as he released possibly the biggest load of his life into Bradley, groaning as he squeezed Brad's hips in approval. Brad's eyes remained locked on his in a lustful daze as he bounced on him a few more times, loving the feeling of Max's cum shooting up into him, and suddenly he was finishing too. 

Max pulled him down onto him, pulling the gag from his lips as they both panted, catching their breaths. After a few moments, Max pressed a soft kiss to Brad's forehead, “that wasn't too much for you, was it?” 

Brad's face lit up with anger at the insinuation, biting back, “don't be stupid.”

Max sighed into him, his fingers finding their way to Bradley's sweat soaked hair, stroking it softly. Bradley felt uneasy at the gesture. He didn't understand why Max was touching him so gently now, as if he were something nice, someone important. Or beautiful. He knew it was bullshit.

Max sat back on his knees, a half-empty champagne glass in his hand. He took a sip of it as he hummed softly, trying to fill the hotel room with a different source of sound, aside from Bradley's moans and whimpers of pleasure beneath him. The faint, warm light of the lamp cascaded down Bradley's body, highlighting every smooth muscle and crevice down his torso and showing off the hickies littered across his body. Max smiled proudly at the sight. 

Bradley was tied up beneath him, propped up against the hard headboard, his hands tied above his head with soft fabric. He wouldn't agree to rope. He had a blindfold over his eyes, and his legs were spread wide, exposing every inch of his lower half to Max's hungry eyes. They had to go to a hotel room this time around, Max didn't want to risk another noise complaint, especially with what he had been planning for Bradley. And there he was, quivering beneath Max, his legs trembling as Max toyed with the vibrator he had pushed deep inside of Bradley. He turned the power up a notch, and Bradley's back arched off the headboard as a powerful moan ripped through him. Max took another sip from his glass.

It hadn't taken much convincing to get Bradley to pay for the hotel room. Mostly, he was concerned about what his father would think he was using it for. But all Max had to do was run his hands down his body, whispering into his ear about what he wanted to do to him, for him to cave. He was so needy. It was ridiculous. It was pathetic.

Max pulled the vibrator out of him slightly, before thrusting it in again. Another cry of pleasure. Bradley felt the thick toy press against his prostate, vibrations sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. And then Max stopped moving it. He was toying with him, going so slowly, too slowly. Bradley was losing his mind. Max took another sip from his glass before leaning forward, setting it on the nightstand. Leaning in, his now free hand made it's way to Bradley's dripping member, giving it a few slow, agonizing strokes as he brought his face up to Bradley's, breathing him in, listening to all the sounds that flowed from his lips like music. “You look…so good like this.” 

One of Bradley’s legs gave out. The other remained propped up, trembling. Max groaned. Just the thought of what he was doing to Bradley was almost enough to get him off, but he needed to be patient. He needed him to fall apart completely beneath him. 

“Wish I could keep you like this all the time, baby.” He thrusted the toy into him a few times as he spoke, his fingers gently massaging Bradley's leaking cock. Bradley thrashed around a little bit beneath him, being overwhelmed by the sensations. Max then pressed his lips against Bradley's, pulling his lips between his teeth. Bradley was whimpering beneath him, quivering. His body was covered in beads of sweat. 

Max then bent down, attacking his neck with bites and kisses. His fingers released Bradley's cock, resulting in a whimper from the older man. His hand slid it's way up Bradley's torso, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin. He was so sexy. So sexy, and so fucking insane. Max bit down hard, his fingers pinching Bradley's left nipple between them as he then peppered a trail of kisses down to Bradley's other nipple. His other hand continued to work the toy into Bradley. 

“Nnnh…fuck, freshman…” Bradley moaned out as he took the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. He bit at it gently, sending a wave of pain and pleasure through Bradley's body. Bradley was panting hard, almost struggling to breathe between his moans and cries of pleasure. Max turned the toy up another notch, relishing in the power he held over Bradley. It was intoxicating. It was almost enough for him to understand why Bradley craved it all the time. 

Bradley's other leg gave out, sliding forward on the bed. Max suddenly couldn't be patient anymore. He pulled himself off of Bradley’s body, his fingers gripping the toy and sliding it out of Bradley's hole, dripping with lube. Bradley whined at its loss, pulling at his restraints and squirming beneath him. “ Max, goddamn it freshman–” he growled out, anger once again pulsating off him. He didn't have to wait long. Max pushed one of his legs back up, hooking it under his arm as he used his other hand to line his thick cock up with Bradley's quivering, dripping hole. 

He thrusted into him roughly, he didn't need time to adjust. The vibrator had stretched him out plenty, Max rationalized. Bradley cried out, his back arching again as he squirmed beneath Max. Max loved it when he got like this, he loved being buried deep inside of him, loved feeling him squeeze and tremble around his cock. His free hand then made it's way to Bradley's hip, the other one still holding up his leg. Max pulled back before slamming his hips into him again, his fingers digging into Bradley's hip. Bradley let out a string of curses and whimpers of pleasure. His poor, abused cock was twitching, dripping pre-cum over his sweaty stomach. Max felt like he could die happy at the sight beneath him. 

Max began picking up the pace, leaning in and capturing Bradley's lips in a hot, desperate kiss, catching all his moans and cries of pleasure with his lips. He would never admit it, but this was his favorite position with Bradley, where he could easily kiss him and watch him fall apart beneath him. As he kissed him, his thrusts became rough, sloppy and uncoordinated. He pushed Bradley's leg up more, trying to get a better angle. Bradley felt him hit his prostate a few times, each time eliciting a loud cry of pure pleasure. Bradley's free leg gripped Max's hips, still shaking violently as Max's kisses moved down to his neck once more. He sucked the skin there, leaving a dark hickey before licking over it, groaning as he felt Bradley begin to clench up around him. He was close, and Max could tell. 

Max's hand slid from Bradley's hip down to his cock, gripping it and stroking it roughly as he pounded into him. He drank in the sounds that continued to flow from Bradley's lips, which were becoming desperate, “oh fuck, oh fuck, please, Max… ” 

“Such a good boy,” Max purred against his throat, his thumb rolling over the tip of Bradley's cock, “cum for me, baby.” 

Bradley whined again, his leg tensing up as it pulled Max's hips in more, wanting him deeper. He ground his hips down on Max as hard as he could, feeling his cock grinding against his insides. And then he felt Max's teeth against his throat again, sending him over the edge as he screamed out in pleasure, his orgasm ripping it's way through his body. Max felt it from inside him, feeling him clench up and tremble around him. Groaning, he ground his hips into Bradley, his teeth dragging down Bradley's throat as he felt his own orgasm approaching. Bradley's leg loosened around him as he finished, allowing Max to move once again, and he began to thrust into him again. He only managed a few more thrusts before he felt his own orgasm rip through his body, filling Bradley up once more with his cum. This was right. This was where he was meant to be, buried inside the man beneath him, filling him up with his seed. 

As he finished, he peppered soft, gentle kisses over Bradley's neck and collarbone. He cooed at him softly as he slowly pulled out, feeling Bradley wince beneath him. He lifted himself up off him once more. “Sorry, was I too rough?” 

Even though Bradley had a blindfold on, he could see him scowling at him. “What the fuck do you think , freshman? God, I–” Max shut him up with a quick kiss, his hands snaking around to untie the blindfold. Bradley's face was bright red. Max smiled at him, and Bradley averted his gaze.

“It's fine…” Bradley grumbled out. 

“Mhmm. Bath?” Max whispered against his lips, his hands then making their way up to untie the restraints on Bradley's wrists. Bradley just nodded. 

The steam rose gently from the warm bathwater, filling the bathroom with a comforting, foggy haze. Max and Bradley sat facing each other in the large bathtub, the water lapping softly at their skin. The intensity of their earlier encounter seemed worlds away as Max carefully washed Bradley, his hands moving gently over Bradley’s shoulders and back.

Max’s touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he were trying to wash away all the anger and pain between them. He ran the sponge over all the bite marks gently, leaning forward to kiss over a few of them. He looked at Bradley with a mixture of concern and affection, his eyes soft and adoring. The earlier aggression had melted into something more intimate and vulnerable, at least from Max’s side.

Bradley relaxed under Max's gentle touch, although his eyes, filled with anger and malice, glared at Max with a burning intensity. 

Max gently cupped some water in his hand, letting it trickle over Bradley’s shoulders, watching the water run down his skin. “You know, Bradley,” Max said softly, breaking the silence, “things don’t have to be like this. We could–”

“Don’t,” Bradley snapped, his voice cutting through the steamy air. His eyes narrowed, the anger evident in every line of his face. “Don't pretend this is anything more than what it is.”

Max’s expression faltered for a moment, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he continued to wash Bradley with a quiet determination. “I’m not pretending,” he said calmly. “I just think we’re both tired of the games.”

Bradley’s jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving Max’s face. The anger in his gaze was fierce, a storm of conflicting emotions that he refused to let surface.

Bradley scoffed, his eyes flashing with contempt. “You’re naive, Max. This will never be over.”

Max met Bradley’s gaze steadily, his own eyes filled with a quiet resolve. “Maybe not. But I’m at least willing to try.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the tension between them palpable. Max’s gentle touch contrasted sharply with the fury in Bradley’s eyes, creating a stark juxtaposition of tenderness and rage.

The bathwater rippled softly around them, the only sound in the room. Max resumed washing Bradley, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying to convey his sincerity through his actions. Bradley wouldn't cave. Not yet. But maybe one day, Max would be able to get through his defenses. 

The steam had dissipated, and the warmth of the bath was replaced by the coolness of the evening air. Bradley stood in front of the mirror, buttoning his shirt. He sighed heavily, noticing the faint bite marks peeking out from the collar of his shirt. His fingers traced over the marks, a mixture of irritation and something unnameable flickering across his face.

“Dammit, Max,” he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over. “You need to stop biting me.”

Max, still in the process of dressing, looked up and saw Bradley’s scowl in the mirror. He walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Bradley’s waist and resting his chin on Bradley’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, Brad?” Max teased, pressing a soft kiss to Bradley’s neck. “I think you look good with them.”

Bradley stiffened at the touch, his anger not yet dissipated. “It’s almost summer, Max. People are going to see these when I go to the beach,” he snapped, trying to maintain his composure.

Max chuckled softly, his breath warm against Bradley’s skin. “So what? Let them see. Maybe they’ll think you’re finally living a little.”

Bradley’s eyes met Max’s in the mirror, a storm of emotions swirling within them. The anger was still there, but it was tempered by a reluctant acceptance. “You think this is funny?” he asked, his voice quieter, tinged with frustration.

Max tightened his embrace, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Bradley’s neck. “I think you worry too much about what other people think,” he said gently. “You should focus more on what you want.”

Bradley’s shoulders sagged slightly, his resistance wavering. “And what if what I want is for you to stop leaving marks on me?”

Max’s smile was soft, almost affectionate. “Then you’ll just have to keep reminding me,” he said, his voice teasing but with an underlying seriousness. “But until then, I’m not making any promises.”

Bradley sighed again, this time with a hint of resignation. “You’re impossible, Max.”

Max’s laughter was light, filling the room with a sense of ease. “And you love it,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to Bradley’s neck before stepping back.

Bradley watched Max’s reflection as he moved away, a complicated mix of emotions etched into his features. He turned back to the mirror, his fingers brushing over the bite marks once more. He smiled a little bit at them. There was a small part of him that did like them, that liked feeling like he was Max's. Even if he wasn't. And it was all some sick game.

As he finished getting dressed, Bradley couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. Summer was approaching, and with it, the promise of new challenges and confrontations. But for now, he would navigate the stormy waters of his relationship with Max, finding a precarious balance between anger and desire, control and surrender.

Chapter Text

Summer break rolled around, and Max returned to his father’s house, a welcome escape from the intense and confusing relationship with Bradley. He spent the first three weeks being fussed over by his dad, Goofy, and enduring countless ridiculous camping trips, hiking adventures, and fishing excursions with Goofy and his girlfriend, Miss Marpole, whose name he learned was Sylvia. 

While Max appreciated the time with his dad, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going crazy. The absence of Bradley left a void that the serene forest and babbling brooks couldn’t fill. Each night, as he lay in his childhood bed, he found himself longing for the intense, confusing connection he had left behind.

One evening, Max sat alone in his room, staring at the ceiling. Goofy and Sylvia had gone on a little vacation, leaving him home alone for the week. Trapped with his thoughts and feelings, Max felt the weight of solitude pressing down on him.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the name on the screen. Bradley. Bradley almost never initiated contact first anymore, so the unexpected text made his pulse quicken.

Brad: Hey.

Max's heart raced, and he had to force himself to breathe. Bradley had made it perfectly clear how he felt about him. Max was just a means to an end. But despite knowing this, he couldn’t stop himself from replying.

Max: I can't stop thinking about you.

The message sent, and the silence that followed was deafening. Max stared at the screen, willing a response to come through. Minutes ticked by, and Bradley didn’t respond.

Max bit his lip, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he typed another message, sending it before he could second-guess himself.

Max: 576 S Maple St, Spoonerville OH📍

Max: I'm alone all week.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest. But no response came. Max put his phone down, trying to quell the mixture of hope and dread swirling inside him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made a huge mistake.

Max woke up early the next morning, the house eerily quiet without the usual bustle of Goofy and Sylvia. He went through the motions of his morning routine, but his thoughts were consumed by the unanswered texts. He spent the day trying to distract himself – reading, watching TV, even cleaning – but nothing could take his mind off Bradley.

As the sun set, Max found himself sitting on the front porch, staring out at the empty street. The silence was oppressive, and the ache in his chest grew stronger with each passing hour. He cursed himself for sending those texts, for opening himself up to disappointment.

Two days passed without a word from Bradley. Max tried to convince himself that it was for the best, that he needed to move on. But the longing wouldn’t go away. Each night, he lay awake, replaying their encounters in his mind, wondering if there was something wrong with him. He had to be crazy, to be this worked up over Bradley Uppercrust III.

On the third day, Max was sitting in the living room, mindlessly flipping through TV channels when his phone buzzed. His heart leaped as he saw Bradley's name on the screen.

Brad: I’m here.

Max's breath caught in his throat. He scrambled to the front door and threw it open. There, standing on the front porch, was Bradley. The sight of him sent a surge of emotions crashing over Max – relief, joy, confusion, and a flicker of fear.

Bradley looked at him, his expression unreadable. “You really couldn’t stop thinking about me, huh?”

Max nodded, unable to find his voice. Bradley stepped inside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, they just stood there, the tension between them almost palpable.

Bradley broke the silence, his voice softer than Max had ever heard it. “You really are a fool, Max.”

Max stepped into Bradley, his arms wrapping around him, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. This is right. This is where he belongs, wrapped up in Bradley, breathing in his expensive cologne as he buried his face into the taller man's shoulder. Bradley stood there, rock solid for a few moments, before he hesitantly put his arms around Max. Max sighed into him, the tension melting from his body.

“I’ve been going crazy without you,” Max murmured against Bradley's shoulder. “You’re like a drug I just can’t quit.”

Bradley didn’t reply, his body tense and rigid. Max pulled back slightly, tilting his head up to look into Bradley's eyes. Seeing the conflict there, he leaned in and kissed him softly. Bradley didn’t respond at first, but Max kissed him again, more desperately, pouring all his longing and confusion into the kiss.

Bradley’s hands tightened around Max's waist, pulling him closer as he finally responded, his kiss fierce and demanding. The anger and frustration melted into something deeper, something more intense. Max’s hands slid up to Bradley's neck, fingers tangling in his hair as their kisses grew more passionate.

“What took you so long?” Max whispered as he pulled back, his voice trembling with emotion.

Bradley’s hand cupped Max’s jaw as he looked into Max’s big brown eyes, seeing the desperation and hurt swirling within them. Bradley felt a pang of guilt, wondering how he could have ever intentionally caused that pain. The thought struck him with fear.

“My family kept me,” Bradley mumbled, his voice unsteady. “They had a lot going on. And I don’t even live in Ohio, Max. I live in Kentucky. It wasn’t easy to slip away.”

Max’s heart started to race again at the realization. Bradley had come all this way just for him. Did Bradley even realize what that meant? Max didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing Bradley again, softer this time, savoring the moment.

Bradley didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip tightened around Max, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, their desperation and longing pouring out in a way words never could. Max’s fingers tangled in Bradley’s hair, holding him close, not wanting to let go.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Max looked up at Bradley, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and wonder. “You came all this way,” he murmured, more to himself than to Bradley.

Bradley nodded, his own confusion evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft flicker of the television. Bradley lay back on the couch, his head resting on the armrest, his body sprawled comfortably. Max was draped across him on his belly, nestled between Bradley’s legs, feeling the warmth of Bradley’s body beneath him. They were watching a movie, but Max's focus was elsewhere.

Bradley’s fingers moved absently through Max’s hair, sending shivers down his spine with each gentle stroke. The moment felt more intimate than anything they had ever done together. It was raw, real, exposing. Max allowed himself to look up at Bradley, studying his features in the faint light of the television.

Bradley was beautiful. His sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and tan skin were accentuated by the flickering light. His bright blue eyes, even when focused on the screen, were mesmerizing. Max felt like, in another life, Bradley could have been a model. Or an actor. The whole world would have fallen at his feet. And yet, here he was, with Max Goof. On his couch, in his childhood home, entangled with him.

Max’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions—gratitude, admiration, and a lingering sense of disbelief. He had never imagined that Bradley, with all his complexities and flaws, could become such an important part of his life. The anger and tension that had once defined their relationship now seemed like distant memories, replaced by this moment—quiet, tender, and profoundly intimate.

Bradley’s hand stilled in Max’s hair, and he glanced down, meeting Max’s gaze. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and shared understanding.

“You’re beautiful,” Max whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

Bradley stiffened beneath him, his blue eyes widening in surprise. They continued to gaze at each other, the intensity of the moment making the air around them feel charged.

Time seemed to stand still as they lay there, wrapped up in each other’s presence. Max could see the flicker of vulnerability in Bradley’s eyes, a hint of uncertainty that contrasted sharply with his usual confidence. Max’s heart pounded in his chest, overwhelmed by the raw connection between them.

Bradley’s hand moved from Max’s hair to cup his jaw, his thumb brushing lightly across Max’s cheek. The touch was gentle, almost adoring. They stayed like that, suspended in the moment, their breaths mingling as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Neither of them spoke, the silence saying more than words ever could. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered emotion, a rare glimpse into the depths of their feelings for each other. Max wondered if any of it was real. It felt real.

Finally, Max broke the silence with a playful smile. “Where’d your attitude go, Brad? I thought you were the tough guy.”

Bradley’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “Maybe you got it all out of me,” he said, his tone mildly suggestive.

Max felt himself warm up at Bradley’s words, a blush creeping up his cheeks. The suggestive comment stirred something within him, making his heart race faster. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice a little unsteady.

Bradley smirked, his fingers resuming their gentle movements through Max’s hair. “You seem to have a knack for it.”

Max’s blush deepened, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Bradley’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, his eyes filled with a rare warmth. “You should.”

Max shifted slightly, moving up over Bradley's body. He kissed him softly, feeling Bradley respond instinctively. Max pulled away, looking down at Bradley's neck. There were no marks there. They had all faded after being apart for so long. Max wondered if that meant that Bradley hadn't slept with anyone else since they'd been apart.

Max’s fingers fumbled as he sloppily unbuttoned Bradley's shirt, needing to see for himself. His heart pounded as he confirmed his suspicion—there were no marks.

“You haven’t been with anyone else?” Max asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley’s eyes flashed with a mix of irritation and something else. “That’s none of your business, Goof.”

“But you haven’t?” Max pressed.

Bradley hesitated, his blue eyes locking onto Max’s brown ones. “I... can’t.”

Max felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him at Bradley’s words. He wanted to know what Bradley meant by that, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned in to kiss him again, more desperately this time. His lips moved down to Bradley’s neck, where he started to bite playfully, determined to mark him up again.

“You’re mine,” Max whispered against Bradley’s skin, his voice low and possessive. “All mine, Uppercrust.”

Bradley gasped, his body arching slightly into Max’s touch. Max continued, his teeth grazing Bradley’s neck. “You belong to me.”

Bradley hummed in agreement, his hands gripping Max’s shoulders tightly. The sound of Bradley’s agreement sent a thrill through Max, fueling his actions. He bit down harder, leaving a mark, and then moved to another spot to do the same.

As Max pulled back slightly to admire his handiwork, Bradley looked up at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and something more tender. “Satisfied?” he asked, his voice rough.

Max smiled softly, his fingers brushing over the fresh marks. “For now.”

“Maybe you really are as fucked up in the head as I am,” Bradley said.

Max smiled, his fingers tracing the marks he had just made. “Guess we’re both a little crazy.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “People call me a psycho, Max.”

Max leaned down, kissing Bradley softly. “Maybe I like a little crazy.”

Bradley’s arms tightened around Max, pulling him closer. “You must, to be here with me.”

Max chuckled, his breath warm against Bradley’s lips. “Yeah, I must.”

The room was filled with a soft, comforting silence as the night progressed. The movie played on in the background, but neither Max nor Bradley paid it much attention. They were lost in each other, the quiet intimacy of their shared moments wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

Max continued to press soft kisses along Bradley’s neck, his touch gentle. Bradley’s hands moved slowly over Max’s back, fingers tracing patterns that sent shivers down Max’s spine. Their breathing synced, creating a rhythm that felt as natural as the rise and fall of the ocean.

Words were few, but the ones they did share were whispered softly, filled with emotion. Max could feel the emotional confusion swirling around them, the lines between affection, need, and possessiveness blurring into something new and profound.

As the night deepened, they moved with a gentle intimacy that was different from any other night they had shared together. Max’s touches were tender, his caresses filled with a warmth that left Bradley reeling. Max had never felt so close to anyone before, the connection between them leaving him breathless and content.

The softness of Max’s touch, the genuine affection in his eyes, and the gentle words whispered in the quiet of the night all tugged at something deep within Bradley. He was used to control, to dominance, and this vulnerability was foreign and unsettling. 

Yet, despite the turmoil within him, Bradley couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The gentle intimacy they shared was something he craved, something he needed, even if it left him feeling more vulnerable than ever.

As the night came to a close, they found themselves in Max’s bedroom. Bradley glanced around and made an offhanded comment. “This bed is so small.”

Max acted offended, a playful glint in his eye. “Not everyone can have a king-sized mattress in a master bedroom, thank you very much.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, but they betrayed a rare softness. “Guess we’ll just have to make do.”

They fell into the bed together, the small space forcing them to stay close.

Max felt a deep sense of peace settle over him, his heart full and content. The gentle intimacy of the night had left him feeling euphoric, a warm glow spreading through him as he drifted towards sleep. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly at home.

Bradley, meanwhile, stared up at the ceiling, his mind a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The tenderness of the night had left him feeling raw and exposed, the gentle intimacy a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. Yet, despite everything, he couldn’t deny the small flicker of warmth in his chest.

Together, they drifted into a light sleep, the bond between them stronger and more profound than ever. The night had changed something between them, leaving them both with a sense of anticipation for what the future might hold.

As the first light of dawn crept through the windows, they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, their limbs entangled and bare flesh pressed against each other. Bradley was the first to stir, untangling himself from Max’s embrace. Max mumbled in his sleep, stirring from the movement. Bradley slipped out of bed and began getting dressed, his movements quiet and deliberate.

Max opened his eyes, blinking sleepily as he watched Bradley move around the room. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and then began to get dressed as well. There was a sense of urgency in the air, a feeling that something important was slipping away. Max followed Bradley around like a lost puppy, unable to shake the feeling of dread that settled in his chest.

Bradley was almost at the door, his hand on the doorknob, when Max caught him by the arm. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding in his chest. “Stay. Please stay,” Max begged, his voice trembling with desperation. The mere thought of Bradley leaving felt like it would make him fall to pieces. A small part of him was screaming that if Bradley walked out that door now, they wouldn’t see each other again. Not like this. Not in this way. It felt so final.

Bradley turned to look at Max, his expression unreadable. He saw the raw desperation in Max’s eyes, the way he was holding onto his arm as if his life depended on it. Bradley’s heart twisted in his chest. He realized a few things about himself the previous night—mainly, that he was no longer willing to hurt Max. And it was inevitable, with the kind of person he was. But now, with Max here, holding his arm and begging him to stay, Bradley didn’t know if he could leave him.

“I can’t do this, Max,” Bradley finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t stay and pretend that everything’s going to be okay.”

Max’s grip tightened on Bradley’s arm, his voice breaking. “But it can be. We can figure it out together. Just don’t leave.”

Bradley’s eyes flashed with frustration. “You don’t get it, Max. You don’t know what goes on in my head. The dark thoughts, the things that tell me to hurt people. I’ve lived with them my whole life. It’s what makes me... me. And I can’t do it anymore, not to you.”

Max’s heart ached at Bradley’s words, his own emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. “You won’t hurt me. You don’t have to be that person.”

Bradley shook his head, his eyes filled with pain. “I don’t know how to be anything else. I’m a mess, Max. I’m broken. And I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

Max took a deep breath, his mind racing. He needed to ground Bradley, to show him that they could make it work. Without thinking, he cupped Bradley’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply, pouring all his love and desperation into the kiss. Bradley responded instinctively, his hands gripping Max’s shoulders as he kissed him back with equal intensity.

The kiss quickly evolved into a heated makeout session. They stumbled back to the couch, Max falling onto it with Bradley straddling his lap. Max’s hands pushed up Bradley’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingers. The passion between them was electric, each touch and kiss igniting a fire that consumed them both.

Max’s hands roamed over Bradley’s torso, pushing his shirt up further to feel more of his skin. The heat between them was palpable, a raw and powerful energy that seemed to take on a life of its own. Max’s lips found Bradley’s again, their kiss deepening with each passing second.

In the midst of their fervent kisses, Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against Bradley’s as he whispered, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Bradley’s heart dropped at the words. The deepest, most profound fear washed over him, mingled with a desperate desire to get away. He felt trapped, suffocated by the intensity of his feelings for Max. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stay.

Max saw the fear in Bradley’s eyes and felt his own heart break. “Please, don’t go,” he begged, his voice trembling. “Stay with me. We can make this work.”

But Bradley was already moving, disentangling himself from Max and standing up. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

Max felt a wave of panic rise within him as he watched Bradley head for the door. He scrambled to his feet, following Bradley out into the street, not caring who saw them. “Bradley, please!” he called out, his voice raw with desperation. “Don’t leave me!”

Bradley turned, his eyes filled with tears. “I have to go, Max. I can’t stay. Not like this.”

Max reached out, his hand catching Bradley’s arm one last time. “Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I need you.”

Bradley looked at him, torn between the desire to stay and the overwhelming fear that he would only cause more pain. “This is unhealthy, Max,” he said, his voice strained. “You can’t cling to me like this, especially after everything I’ve done to you.”

Max shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t care. I need you.”

Bradley pulled away, his heart aching. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, turning and getting into his car. He started the engine, the sound cutting through the still morning air.

Max stood in the middle of the street, watching as Bradley drove away. His heart shattered, the weight of the moment crashing down on him. The love he felt for Bradley was real, but the path ahead was uncertain and fraught with pain.

As Bradley's car disappeared into the distance, Max knew he had to let him go, hoping that one day, Bradley would find his way back to him.

Chapter Text

Years passed, and Max graduated college, carving out a successful name for himself in the music production industry. Yet, memories of Bradley remained vivid in his mind. When Max had returned to college after that summer, Bradley was gone. It hadn’t taken much asking around for Max to learn what had happened. Bradley had transferred schools, blocked Max on every platform, and disappeared from his life completely.

Despite Bradley’s absence, his name occasionally floated through conversations. Max learned that Uppercrust II, Bradley’s father, had died, and Bradley had inherited the family fortune along with their multi-billion-dollar tech corporation. It was a stark reminder of the life Bradley had slipped back into, far removed from Max’s world.

Max remembered returning to college that year, feeling like a shell of his former self. He didn’t skate like he used to, didn’t party, didn’t enjoy life. It felt as if a part of his own heart had been stolen, leaving a gaping hole where it once sat in his chest and ruining any semblance of a person he was or could have been. PJ and Bobby didn’t understand, of course they didn’t. To them, Bradley was just the asshole who had tried to ruin Max’s life, who had almost killed him, who had blackmailed him. But as the years passed, they helped Max overcome the challenges he faced. And Max slowly became a person again, but the hole in his heart was never truly filled.

Max tried to move on with other people. He tried to find someone to fill the gaps in himself, men, women, it didn’t matter. But nobody ever did. He knew that there was something wrong with him. He and Bradley hadn’t even been serious, not really. They just fell into each other whenever it was convenient. And yet, and yet.

Max's career flourished. He produced hits for big names, traveled the world, and attended glamorous events. He reveled in the limelight, the acclaim, and the glamorous lifestyle that came with his success. He stood at the pinnacle of his field, celebrated by peers and fans alike. Yet, despite the accolades and the success, there was always a sense of emptiness that lingered. The thrill of success never quite matched the intensity of the emotions he had felt with Bradley.

He often thought about that morning when Bradley had left. The desperation in his own voice, the look of conflict in Bradley’s eyes. The way he had chased after him, begged him to stay. He wondered if Bradley ever thought about it too, if he ever regretted leaving. The memory haunted him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

Max realized that he and Bradley had a toxic relationship, but there was still a part of him that yearned for it. He wished he could turn back the clock, remain in that last night with Bradley before he left. A small part of him wondered if the reason he had thrown himself into his work so much, dedicated so much passion to it, was because he was hoping that if he made a big enough name for himself, Bradley would come back. But he never did. And it left Max feeling stupid, like a lovesick teenager, despite all the years that had passed.

Those last few moments with Bradley before he had left were stuck in his mind. How happy he had been, euphoric, wrapped up in Bradley. Feeling him all around him, the warmth that radiated from his skin. It was otherworldly. He reasoned that the experience should have stuck with him; there would be something wrong with him if it hadn’t.

As the years went by, Max tried to bury his feelings. He threw himself into his work. He surrounded himself with friends, attended parties, and embraced the social scene. But no matter how much he achieved, there was always a part of him that felt incomplete.

He sought solace in fleeting romances, trying to recapture the intensity of what he had felt with Bradley. But each relationship ended the same way, leaving him feeling more empty and disillusioned. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was broken, that something essential was missing from his life.

Despite his success, Max found little joy in the things that should have made him happy. He would often find himself standing alone at the end of the night, staring out at the cityscape, feeling a profound sense of loss. The lights of the city seemed to mock him, a dazzling display of life and vibrancy that contrasted sharply with the emptiness he felt inside.

But it's all over now. Max finally has his own life. He’s made a name for himself, built a career, and created a future. He tells himself that he’s moved on, that he’s happy. Yet, in the quiet moments, when he’s alone with his thoughts, he knows the truth. The hole in his heart still remains, a silent reminder of the love he lost and the person who took a piece of him when he walked away.

As Max stood on the balcony of his penthouse apartment, looking out over the city lights, he allowed himself one last thought of Bradley. One last moment of longing. The city below was alive with energy, the sounds of cars and people blending into a constant hum. Max took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs. He thought about the journey he had been on, the highs and lows, the successes and the heartbreaks.

He remembered the laughter, the arguments, the stolen moments of tenderness that had defined his time with Bradley. And he thought about the pain of losing it all, the devastation of watching Bradley walk away, and the struggle to rebuild his life in the aftermath.

Then, he turned away, stepping back into the warmth and brightness of his own life, determined to move forward, even with the lingering ache in his heart. The life he had built for himself was full of promise and potential, a testament to his resilience and strength. He had faced his demons, overcome his obstacles, and emerged stronger for it.

Max knew that the road ahead would not be easy, but he was ready to face it. He had found his passion, his purpose, and his place in the world. And while the hole in his heart might never fully heal, he was learning to live with it, to embrace the pain as a part of who he was.

In the end, Max realized that he was not defined by his past, but by his ability to move forward, to find meaning and joy in the present. And as he closed the door to the balcony and walked back into his apartment, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, Max felt hopeful. He was ready to embrace whatever came next, to live his life to the fullest, and to honor the memory of the love he had lost by being the best version of himself.

Max sat in the corner booth of their favorite bar, the familiar hum of conversation and clinking glasses creating a comforting backdrop. He was waiting for PJ and Bobby to arrive, their regular hangout session long overdue. The anticipation of seeing his friends again filled him with a warm sense of nostalgia.

A few minutes later, PJ and Bobby walked in, spotting Max immediately. They still looked like the friends he had known for years, yet there were subtle differences that marked the passage of time.

PJ’s appearance had evolved significantly. He wore glasses now, thin-rimmed and stylish, which gave him an air of intellectual sophistication. His clothes were much smarter than the casual attire he used to favor—crisp shirts and well-fitted trousers replaced his old baggy jeans and graphic tees. Despite the changes, his easygoing smile remained the same, lighting up his face as he approached Max.

Bobby, on the other hand, had let his once buzzed hair grow out into a wild, messy ginger haze that flowed from his scalp. The change suited him, giving him a roguish charm that was hard to ignore. Max noticed that Bobby’s style had also shifted; his clothes were more eclectic and daring, a reflection of his free-spirited nature. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, a confidence that drew the eye.

Max stood to greet them, and they exchanged enthusiastic hugs and pats on the back.

“It’s been too long, man!” PJ said, sliding into the booth opposite Max.

“Way too long,” Bobby agreed, flopping down next to PJ. “You’ve been hiding in that fancy penthouse of yours, Maxie. We were starting to think you’d forgotten about us little people.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Never. Just been busy, you know how it is.”

They ordered their drinks, and as they waited, the conversation flowed easily. PJ and Bobby had always been the kind of friends who could pick up right where they left off, no matter how much time had passed.

“So, what’s new with you guys?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

PJ beamed, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses. “Well, Mocha and I are trying for a baby.”

Bobby let out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes. “Dude, no one needs to know you’ve been raw dogging your wife. That’s just nasty.”

PJ laughed, shaking his head. “Bobby, you’re the worst.”

Max grinned, happy for his friend. “That’s amazing, PJ. Congratulations. You’re going to be a great dad.”

“Thanks, Max,” PJ said, his smile widening. “It’s been a wild ride, but I’m excited for what’s next.”

Bobby leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “As for me, the ‘Bob-ster’ is still living the bachelor life. No woman—or man, for that matter—can hold me down.”

Max raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Experimenting, huh?”

Bobby shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy. No one’s managed to steal my heart yet, though.”

Their drinks arrived, and they toasted to friendship, old times, and new beginnings. As they sipped their drinks, PJ and Bobby started to notice something different about Max.

“You seem… happier,” PJ remarked, looking at Max closely. “Or at least, more at peace. Did something happen?”

Max hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “I just decided it was time to let go of some things. To move forward and focus on the good stuff.”

Bobby nodded approvingly. “About time, man. Life’s too short to be holding onto baggage.”

Max felt a weight lift from his shoulders, realizing that his friends had seen right through him. They didn’t need to know all the details to understand the change in him. The simple act of letting go, of choosing to embrace the present, had brought him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years.

As they continued talking, Max found himself stealing glances at Bobby. He couldn’t help but notice how good Bobby looked with his wild hair and confident demeanor. A part of him, the part that was lonely and desperate for love, realized much too late that he might actually be feeling attracted to Bobby. It was a revelation that sent a jolt through him, stirring emotions he wasn’t prepared to face.

Max forced himself to look away, focusing on the conversation and trying to push those thoughts aside. He didn’t want or need that kind of complication in his life right now. But despite his best efforts, his mind kept drifting back to Bobby, imagining what it might be like to explore those feelings.

The night wore on, filled with laughter and stories, and Max felt a warmth settle over him. He knew he had to let go of the past to truly embrace the future. And as he sat there with PJ and Bobby, he realized that maybe he was ready to open himself up to new possibilities, even if they scared him.

They spent the rest of the evening reminiscing, laughing, and sharing stories. It felt like old times, but with a renewed sense of hope and possibility. Max knew that he still had a lot to figure out, but with friends like PJ and Bobby by his side, he felt ready to face whatever came next.

PJ had to leave first, stating that Mocha needed him to pick her up from her long night shift at the hospital. Max wondered to himself how she wound up in the medical field when she'd had such a bright future as a poet. But he supposed that she did always have a knack for helping people.

After PJ left, it was just Bobby and Max. The bar was quieter now, the ambient noise of conversations and laughter creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Max found himself relaxing more with each drink, the alcohol loosening his thoughts and inhibitions.

As he sipped his drink, Max started to notice things about Bobby that he had never taken the time to notice before. Like how Bobby’s eyes glinted behind his glasses when he got immersed in a particularly interesting story, and how his mouth, full and plump, curled around specific words as he slurred them out. Bobby’s speech was always a bit slurred; it wasn’t a result of the alcohol. But Max had never noticed those things.

Max didn’t realize he had been staring at Bobby’s lips until he noticed that Bobby had stopped talking, looking back at him with a hint of confusion. Max felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. He had never wondered what it would be like to kiss his best friend before, but he was now.

“Uh, you okay, Maxie?” Bobby asked, tilting his head slightly, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

Max blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just... spaced out for a second.”

Bobby laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “You had me worried there. Thought I lost you for a minute.”

Max chuckled nervously, taking a sip of his drink to steady himself. “Nah, just got lost in thought, I guess.”

Bobby smiled, and for a moment, the awkwardness dissipated. But Max couldn’t shake the new awareness that had settled over him. He couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to Bobby’s lips, the way they moved, the softness they seemed to promise.

The night continued, and the more Max drank, the more his thoughts lingered on Bobby. He felt a mixture of confusion and curiosity, emotions he hadn’t expected to feel. It was strange, but he couldn’t deny the attraction that was slowly blooming within him.

Their conversation resumed, but Max’s focus kept slipping. He found himself staring at Bobby again, losing track of what was being said. Bobby noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Max.

“Max, are you all there?” Bobby asked, leaning in closer. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Max’s heart raced, and he swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m here. Just... thinking.”

Bobby smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Thinking about what? You’ve been staring at me like I’ve got something on my face.”

Max’s head spun, the alcohol and his swirling emotions making it hard to think clearly. Before he could respond, Bobby said something that made his breath catch.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to kiss me.”

The words hung in the air between them, charged with tension. Max’s mind reeled, and he felt a surge of emotion that he couldn’t hold back. Without thinking, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Bobby’s.

The kiss was hesitant at first, both of them caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. But then Bobby responded, his hand coming up to cup the back of Max’s head, deepening the kiss. Max’s heart pounded in his chest as he lost himself in the sensation, the warmth of Bobby’s lips against his own, the way their breaths mingled.

Time seemed to stand still as they kissed, everything else fading away. When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing heavily, their faces inches apart.

Bobby looked at Max, his eyes wide with surprise and something else. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Max couldn’t help but laugh, a mixture of relief and exhilaration flooding through him. “Yeah, it was.”

Bobby grinned, his hand still resting on the back of Max’s head. “But not unwelcome.”

Max smiled, feeling a sense of hope and possibility that he hadn’t felt in years. “Definitely not.”

They sat there for a moment, the weight of what had just happened sinking in. And then they kissed each other again. And again. They lost themselves in each other, almost forgetting that they were in a public space. Max didn’t care; he had been openly bisexual for years. But he did have to stop himself before he lost himself too much, thinking it would definitely not look good for his career if he got arrested for public indecency.

Breathing heavily, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against Bobby’s. “Maybe we should... take this somewhere else?”

Bobby’s eyes were still glued to Max’s lips, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Max hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “Come back to my place?”

Bobby nodded. “Lead the way.”

Max and Bobby decided to take an Uber back to Max’s penthouse. The ride was a blur of anticipation, the air between them thick with unspoken desire. They exchanged glances, the silence charged with the promise of what was to come.

As soon as they were alone in the elevator, the restraint they had managed to maintain during the ride evaporated. Max turned to Bobby, pulling him close and pressing his lips against Bobby’s with a hunger that had been building all night. Bobby responded in kind, his hands finding their way to Max’s waist, pulling him even closer.

The elevator ride felt endless, but when they finally reached Max’s floor, they practically stumbled out, still wrapped up in each other. Max fumbled with his keys, managing to unlock the door and push it open. Once inside the penthouse, the door barely closed behind them before Max was on Bobby again, his lips trailing a heated path from Bobby’s jaw to his throat.

Max’s kisses were sloppy and urgent, his mouth exploring every inch of Bobby’s neck. Bobby’s fingers tangled in Max’s hair, gripping tightly as he tried to speak between gasping breaths. “Max… we… we can’t let this fuck up our friendship.”

Max paused for a moment, his breath hot against Bobby’s skin. “I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Bobby’s resolve wavered, his grip on Max’s hair tightening. “Me neither, but… we have to be careful.”

Max nodded, his lips brushing against Bobby’s collarbone. “We will be. I promise.”

Bobby’s head fell back against the wall, a low moan escaping his lips as Max continued his assault on his neck. The sensation was intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks of pleasure through his body. Despite his concerns, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

Max’s hands roamed over Bobby’s body, feeling the heat of his skin through his clothes. He wanted more, needed more, and it seemed like Bobby felt the same way. They moved together, their touches growing more urgent, more desperate.

As they made their way further into the penthouse, they left a trail of discarded clothes behind them. By the time they reached Max’s bedroom, they were both breathless, their desire burning hotter than ever.

Max pushed Bobby onto the bed, climbing on top of him and capturing his lips in another searing kiss. Bobby responded eagerly, his hands roaming over Max’s back, pulling him closer. The world outside ceased to exist as they lost themselves in each other, the only thing that mattered was the connection they were forging in that moment.

Being with Bobby was completely different from being with Bradley, Max realized. There was no underlying fear, no tension, no fight for control or dominance. Bobby’s body was softer, slightly more plush, but in a good way. His lips were fuller, and his messy mop of orange hair falling into his face was endearingly sexy. 

The biggest difference was the underlying intentions. Max trusted Bobby with his whole being, in ways he had never trusted Bradley. The kind of trust that can only come from a lifetime of friendship and understanding. With Bobby, there was a sense of ease and comfort that Max had never experienced before. 

As they moved together, Max felt a profound sense of peace. He knew that what they had was not romantic and that it wouldn’t go anywhere, but he also knew that they would be fine after all this. Because he trusted Bobby. There was no need to worry about hidden agendas or the fear of being hurt. It was just them, two friends exploring a new aspect of their friendship.

Max’s hands roamed over Bobby’s body, feeling the warmth and softness beneath his fingers. Bobby’s touch was gentle and reassuring, each caress a silent promise that everything was okay. They moved together with a synchronicity that came from years of knowing each other, their breaths and heartbeats aligning in perfect harmony.

Bobby’s lips found Max’s again, their kiss slow and deep, filled with a tenderness that took Max’s breath away. There was no rush, no urgency, just the simple pleasure of being close to someone he cared about. Bobby’s fingers threaded through Max’s hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Max felt a sense of clarity wash over him. This was what it meant to truly connect with someone, to trust them completely. There was no need for pretense or games, just the pure, unadulterated truth of their bond. It wasn’t about love or romance; it was about trust and understanding, the foundation of their friendship.

As they lay together, Max realized how much he had been missing this kind of connection. It wasn’t about finding someone to fill the void left by Bradley; it was about embracing the people who had always been there for him. Bobby had been a constant in his life, a source of support and comfort, and Max was grateful for that.

They held each other close, the world outside their little bubble fading away. In that moment, Max knew that everything would be okay. They would face whatever challenges came their way, together. And with that thought, Max allowed himself to relax, feeling a sense of contentment he hadn’t felt in years.

As the night wore on, they eventually drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The future was still uncertain, but Max felt ready to face it, knowing that he had friends like Bobby by his side. And with that, he closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, ready to embrace whatever came next.

The next morning, Max woke up alone in his bed. He was used to this, used to people leaving once they’d had their fill of him, but for some reason, it hurt more than usual when it was his best friend. He sighed as he stared at the bedroom ceiling for a bit, wondering if he’d fallen back into the same destructive cycle, pulling his best friend of nearly twenty years with him.

Pushing through the lingering thoughts of self-doubt, Max threw on a robe and headed to the kitchen for a glass of coffee. He was shocked to see Bobby there, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Max’s shirts, which hung loosely on his shoulders. Bobby smiled meekly at Max.

“Hey,” Bobby said, his voice soft and a bit sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind. I made breakfast.”

Max blinked in surprise, then smiled back, relief washing over him. “I don’t mind at all. This is a great surprise, actually.”

Bobby’s smile widened as he handed Max a plate. “Good. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I went with the classic omelet.”

Max took a seat at the kitchen island, feeling a warmth spread through him. Of course, Bobby wouldn’t just leave. That was a ridiculous thing to think. He picked up a fork and took a bite, savoring the flavors.

“This is really good, Bobby. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Bobby replied, sitting down across from Max with his own plate. “So, you know my mom’s getting remarried again, right?”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. Another one? What’s that, number five?”

“Yeah, number five,” Bobby confirmed, rolling his eyes playfully. “She’s like the Liz Taylor of Spoonerville.”

Max laughed, the sound genuine and light. “How’s she taking it?”

“Excited, as always. She says this one’s different, but she says that every time. We’ll see how long it lasts.”

They shared a laugh, the conversation flowing easily. It felt good, normal. Just like old times. Max realized how easy it was to fall back into their normal, friendly banter even after what had happened.

As they talked, Max found himself staring at Bobby again. His eyes drifted to the marks he’d left on Bobby’s neck and shoulder, which were exposed by the shirt hanging loosely off him. The memory of Bobby crying out his name in pleasure was seared into Max’s mind, and it conjured itself up without him meaning to.

“Maxie...!”

Max gulped, feeling his face go red. Bobby noticed and raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“You okay there, Max? You look a little... flustered.”

Max tried to laugh it off, but his voice came out shaky. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Bobby’s grin widened. “Thinking about what?”

Max hesitated, unsure how to respond. Before he could come up with an answer, Bobby leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’re not falling in love with me, are you? I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Max laughed, shaking his head. “In your dreams, maybe.”

Bobby smirked, clearly amused. “Good. Because we’ve got a good thing going here, and I don’t want to mess that up.”

Max leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I could always go for a round two, though.”

Bobby’s eyes widened slightly, then he chuckled, a low, throaty sound. “You’re trouble, Maxie.”

Max shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Maybe. But you like it.”

Bobby laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I guess I do. But at least let me finish my breakfast first.”

Max grinned, nodding. “Fair enough.”

They continued eating, the light conversation resuming. But the tension between them was palpable, an electric undercurrent that neither could ignore. As Bobby finished the last bite of his omelet, he set his fork down, his eyes locking onto Max’s.

“Okay, now that breakfast is out of the way...” Bobby said, his voice trailing off suggestively.

Max didn’t need any more encouragement. He leaned across the table, capturing Bobby’s lips in a passionate kiss. Bobby responded eagerly, their earlier conversation and any thoughts of dishes forgotten as they lost themselves in the moment.

Max stood, pulling Bobby up with him, and they moved together towards the living room, their kisses growing more intense. The dishes could wait. Right now, all that mattered was the here and now, and the undeniable chemistry between them.

They collapsed into the couch, and Max felt himself melting into Bobby once more. 

As they caught their breaths on the couch, sprawled against each other, Max’s hand brushed up and down Bobby’s arm in a soothing motion. The intimacy of the moment settled over them, and Max felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

“You should stay for a few days,” Max suggested, his voice soft and tentative.

Bobby looked up at him, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The simple agreement sent a wave of emotion crashing over Max. It was like a little part of his broken heart healed at that moment. Someone actually agreeing to stay. Just for him. No promise of anything more, no begging or pleading, just him. It made him realize how much he had still been holding in, the loneliness and pain he had kept buried deep inside.

He tried not to cry, not wanting to make things awkward with his friend. But Bobby seemed to understand. He stayed sprawled against Max’s chest, his breathing steady and comforting. The warmth of Bobby’s body against his own, the steady rhythm of his breath, it all helped to ground Max, to anchor him in the present.

Max closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The tears that threatened to spill over were a mix of relief, gratitude, and the lingering pain of past wounds. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could let some of that pain go. He didn’t have to carry it alone anymore.

Bobby’s fingers traced gentle patterns on Max’s chest, and the simple, tender gesture spoke volumes. It was a promise of understanding, of support, and of a friendship that had stood the test of time and change.

Max allowed himself to relax, to let the comfort of Bobby’s presence soothe the raw edges of his emotions. They didn’t need to rush anything or put labels on what they had. It was enough to just be there for each other, to share the moment and the bond that had always been there.

The days passed in a comfortable blur, with Max and Bobby falling into an easy routine. They cooked together, watched movies, and talked late into the night. It was a welcome change from the solitude Max had grown accustomed to, and for a while, he allowed himself to enjoy it without overthinking.

But eventually, reality called, and Bobby had to leave, needing to return to his own life. They stood outside the doorway to Max's building, a bittersweet air hanging between them.

“Guess this is it,” Bobby said softly, his eyes searching Max’s face.

Max nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They shared a long, slow, and heated kiss, a final moment of intimacy that neither wanted to end. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other’s, breathing in the closeness.

“We agreed, right? To keep it at this?” Bobby’s voice was tinged with reluctance.

Max nodded again. “Yeah. It was fun while it lasted, but... it’s probably best if we don’t take that extra step.”

Bobby smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. We don’t want to mess up what we have.”

With a final peck on the lips, Bobby stepped back and walked away, leaving Max standing in the doorway, watching until he was out of sight. When he returned to the apartment, it felt emptier, quieter, without Bobby’s presence. Max closed the door, the weight of solitude pressing down on him again.

Days turned into weeks, and Max found himself missing it. Missing Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t just Bobby, though. Maybe he missed the feeling of waking up next to someone, the warmth and comfort of another body beside him. He missed the simple pleasure of having someone make breakfast as he got up in the morning, the shared laughter, and the quiet moments of understanding.

Max threw himself back into his work, hoping the distraction would help. But no matter how busy he kept himself, there was always a lingering ache, a sense of longing that wouldn’t quite go away. He knew it wasn’t about Bobby. It was about the connection, the intimacy, and the companionship that he had been missing for so long.

And so, Max took it one day at a time, finding solace in the small things, the moments of joy and connection that made life worth living. He knew that he would find his way, that he would continue to grow and heal. And maybe he would find that special connection again. Until then, he would hold onto the memories, letting them remind him of the possibilities that lay ahead.

Max, Bobby, and PJ still met up every few weeks, or months, or just whenever their schedules aligned. Things returned to normal between them all, but Max and Bobby exchanged knowing looks every once in a while. Max often wondered what his life would have been like if he’d had that love affair with Bobby instead of Bradley all those years ago. Would they have ended up together? But the past was the past.

One hangout session, they were at their favorite bar, the usual spot for their reunions. PJ was in the middle of asking Bobby why he had disappeared for almost a week a few months ago, noting how everyone back home in Spoonerville had their own theories on what had happened.

“So, Bobby, spill the beans. Why did you vanish for that week? You know everyone back home has some wild theories,” PJ said, a mischievous grin on his face.

Bobby laughed, taking a sip of his drink. “Oh man, you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve heard. Some people thought I joined a cult or something.”

PJ snorted. “Yeah, or that you went on some secret mission. My favorite one was that you eloped with a mystery lover.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “People have wild imaginations.”

Bobby grinned, taking another sip. “Well, the truth is a lot less exciting. I was just—"

PJ cut in with a teasing grin. “Just what? Got locked in Max’s penthouse?”

Bobby laughed, almost choking on his drink. “Actually, yeah. We were... um...” He trailed off, realizing too late what he was saying.

PJ's eyes widened. “Wait, what? You were locked in Max’s penthouse? Together?”

Max and Bobby exchanged a quick, panicked glance.

“Uh, yeah,” Bobby said, trying to cover his slip-up. “It was, you know, just hanging out... and stuff.”

PJ looked between them, a look of mock horror spreading across his face. “You mean to tell me my two best friends were having an illicit love affair without inviting me?”

They all burst out laughing, the absurdity of the statement breaking the tension. PJ shook his head, still laughing. “I can’t believe you guys did it. I’m actually a little jealous.” He said jokingly.

Bobby smirked, giving Max a sideways glance. “What can I say? Max is irresistible.”

Max rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his smile. “You’re such a dork, Bobby.”

PJ looked between them, his expression more genuine now. “Seriously, though. You guys are okay, right? I mean, no weirdness or anything?”

Max nodded. “Yeah, we’re good. We decided it was just a one-time thing. No big deal.”

Bobby agreed. “Yeah, it was fun, but we’re better off as friends.”

PJ let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I’d hate for anything to mess up our friendship.”

They continued their night, friendship between them unshaken. The slip-up had only brought them closer, the honesty and humor strengthening their bond. As they laughed and shared stories, Max felt a sense of contentment. Life might not have turned out the way he had once imagined, but he had his friends, and that was more than enough.

And every once in a while, when Bobby caught his eye, they shared a knowing look, a silent acknowledgment of the connection they had. It was a reminder of the possibilities that lay in the past, but also of the present, and the friendships that had endured through it all.

In a moment of nostalgia, Max decided to return to the Bean Scene, the coffee shop outside his old college campus. As he approached, memories washed over him: the first time he’d been there, hearing Mocha reciting her poetry from the stage, the snapping of fingers in applause, and running into Bradley for the first time.

The Bean Scene looked different now. It had been remodeled slightly, with some of the old wooden beams still shining through the newer decor. The cash registers were different, Max noted, sleeker and more modern. But the vibe was still the same: the chilled atmosphere and the general bustle of college students using the place to study, for overpriced coffee, or for free WiFi.

Max stepped inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filling the air. He glanced around, taking in the changes. The seating arrangement was updated, with a mix of modern and rustic furniture, but the stage where Mocha had performed was still there, albeit with a few upgrades. The walls were adorned with new artwork, but some of the old pieces remained, giving the place a comforting sense of continuity.

He approached the counter, ordering his usual coffee. As he waited, he couldn’t help but smile at the snippets of conversation around him, the hum of student life that had been such a big part of his own college experience. The barista handed him his drink, and he made his way to a table near the back, settling into a plush armchair.

As he sipped his coffee, memories continued to flood back. He remembered the excitement of hearing Mocha’s poetry for the first time, the way her words had captivated the audience. He recalled the thrill of meeting Bradley, the initial antagonism that had somehow turned into something much more complicated.

The Bean Scene had been a central part of his college life, a place of laughter, arguments, and late-night study sessions. Sitting there now, he felt a sense of gratitude for the memories and the experiences that had shaped him.

Max pulled out his laptop, intending to catch up on some work, but he found himself distracted by the nostalgia. He watched the students around him, seeing reflections of his younger self in their eager faces. He wondered what they would make of their college years, what memories they would carry with them long after they graduated.

He smiled, feeling a sense of connection to the past and a renewed appreciation for the present. The Bean Scene might have changed, but its spirit remained the same, a place where life happened, where memories were made.

Max took another sip of his coffee, letting the warmth and familiarity wash over him. He was grateful for the journey he had been on, for the friends who had stood by him, and for the experiences that had shaped him. And as he sat there, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the Bean Scene, he felt a renewed sense of hope and possibility for the future.

As Max got up to leave the coffee shop, he moved too quickly, accidentally smashing into a body he hadn’t noticed walking up to his table. Suddenly, he felt himself overcome with deja vu. It was as if he were a college freshman again, accidentally splashing coffee on the expensive sweater of Bradley Uppercrust III. He vividly remembered that first meeting, Bradley inviting him to join his frat house.

He shook the thought away as he went to apologize to the taller man standing in front of him, his breath hitching at the sight as he lifted his head.

His hair was shorter now, and his face had changed through the years, but not much. His eyes were the same striking blue they’d always been. Only now, they looked calmer, not malicious, not angry. Max really did feel like he had been hurled back in time to that very first meeting.

“Bradley?” Max breathed. 

And it was like he was breathing for the first time.

Chapter Text

The morning that Bradley left Max, he didn't know what to do. So much had happened that wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to care about Max. He wanted to ruin his life. That had been his whole goal, and yet Max had other plans, figuring out a path to slither into Bradley’s cold, dead heart. Like a snake, Max had wrapped around it, squeezing and constricting, and Bradley had felt like it was going to kill him.

He supposed, in the end, he did get his wish. He did ruin Max, leaving him sobbing in the street like he did. But it had been too late, and he hadn't wanted it anymore. There was no satisfaction in his leaving, just fear, anger, and frustration. Hatred at the person he was.

Bradley gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, not knowing where he was going. He didn’t need a destination. He drove for hours, the scenery blurring past him as his mind raced. Memories of Max, the way he looked at him, the way he made him feel, all jumbled together with his anger and confusion.

Max was supposed to be a means to an end, a pawn in his twisted game. But somewhere along the way, Max had become more than that. Max had seen through his facade, reached into the depths of his soul, and touched something he thought had long been dead. Bradley had been terrified by it, by the vulnerability it brought out in him.

Bradley had spent years building walls around his heart, fortifying himself against any kind of emotional attachment. He had become a master of manipulation, a connoisseur of cruelty. But Max had dismantled those defenses with alarming ease, leaving Bradley exposed and vulnerable in ways he had never imagined.

He stopped driving, looking up at the clinic in front of him that he'd found his way to. He wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not. It had to be, subconsciously. He wanted to be better. He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. Well, he did. He just didn't want to hurt Max. But it was too late to take back what he'd done.

As he stared at the clinic, a mix of fear and determination settled over him. He didn’t want to be that person anymore. Taking a deep breath, Bradley stepped out of the car and walked towards the clinic. His heart pounded in his chest, each step feeling like a monumental effort. He had no idea what the future held, but he knew he couldn’t keep living the way he had. He needed help, and for the first time in his life, he was ready to ask for it.

The years that followed were some of the hardest of Bradley’s life. Therapy sessions forced him to confront his demons, moments of gut-wrenching honesty left him feeling raw and exposed. He had to dismantle the person he had become, piece by painful piece, and rebuild himself from the ground up. He was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, narcissistic tendencies, and depression. The depression diagnosis had taken him by surprise. He had never considered that his deep-seated sadness was anything more than frustration or anger.

He cut ties with toxic influences, distanced himself from the shadows of his past. He learned to recognize and manage his impulses, to understand the roots of his anger and hatred. It was a slow, arduous process, but gradually, he began to see glimpses of the person he wanted to be.

When his father passed away, Bradley felt a complex mix of emotions. They had never been close; the second Bradley Uppercrust had been much the same as him, using people as if they were pawns in his game. But still, Bradley felt an attachment to him. There was sadness at losing someone who had been a part of his life, even if that part had been fraught with manipulation and emotional distance.

Bradley took his medication religiously, not wanting to return to the person he was, not wanting to risk even the slightest chance of it. The memory of Max's face, drowned in tears, was burned into his eyes. He saw it every time he even considered skipping his meds. He knew it would never make up for what he'd done, but in his mind and heart, he would often think to himself how none of that would have happened if he'd gotten help sooner.

In the beginning, after he left Max, Bradley had felt a desperate longing to return to Max's embrace. It had been an unhealthy coping mechanism, pining after someone he had abused for so long. Through therapy and self-reflection, he managed to get over it, recognizing the toxicity of his desires. But he still hoped Max was doing well. And he knew Max was doing well, because he’d heard through the grapevine of his own friends from college about how successful Max had become.

The old college had actually asked him to come in and do a seminar about his work. He hadn’t meant to run into Max afterward, but he saw him, the familiar mess of black hair and the ever-baggy T-shirt over baggy jeans. His style hadn’t changed, not one bit. Bradley supposed it had only been five years. Not everyone could change as much as he had forced himself to.

Without thinking, Bradley followed Max into the Bean Scene, debating whether or not he should approach him. He kept his distance, ordered a coffee of his own, and watched Max from afar. When he saw Max start to put his laptop away, he knew he had to do it. He had to at least say hi. He had to confirm, at least for the sake of his own sanity, that Max was okay.

Bradley took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and walked up to Max’s table. As Max got up to leave the coffee shop, he did so in too much of a rush, accidentally smashing into Bradley and nearly spilling his coffee on him. Bradley felt as if his heart was going to stop as Max's big, beautiful brown eyes looked up at him. He suddenly felt like maybe all that therapy wasn't enough. He definitely wasn't over Max. The realization flooded over him, bringing with it a wave of guilt, like a dam breaking and now he was drowning in it. Max was so perfect, and Bradley was so not. Even with the years apart, Bradley could still see his crying face. He could see it even now, facing Max, even though he wasn't crying.

He heard Max's breath hitch as recognition found its way across his face.

"Bradley?”

...

Chapter Text

Being face to face with Bradley again after all these years, Max froze in shock. Years of longing, of feeling that hole that had been left in his heart, all melted away and suddenly he was 19 again. He could feel the heat radiating from Bradley's skin, he could smell his expensive cologne; god, he hadn't changed it. Max vividly remembered spending hours in the fragrance store trying to find that cologne. He'd never found it.

They weren't touching, but Max could feel Bradley all around him, caging him in. He saw the ghosts of their past in his face. Neither of them spoke as their eyes searched each other's faces. Max didn't know what to say, and Bradley didn't know if an apology was enough.

Max felt all the emotions bubbling up in his chest. The heartbreak, the euphoria, and the anger he hadn't allowed himself to feel until this moment. Before he could do anything to stop himself, he felt his throat closing up as tears welled up in his eyes. And suddenly it was all there again. Every single moment they'd shared, blended into the next, cascading across Max's whole being as his coffee cup hit the floor.

He wasn't in control of his own body. He didn't even realize he was hugging him, until he felt Bradley's own arms wrap around him. His embrace was warm and welcoming, with none of the hesitation it once betrayed. Max leaned into him and breathed him in as he let a sob wrack through his body.

"You asshole," Max choked out, his voice trembling. "You complete and utter asshole."

Bradley just held him tighter, his own emotions swirling inside him. He listened as Max continued, his voice a mixture of anger and pain.

"How could you? How could you come back now? After everything you put me through, after years of trying to put myself back together?" Max sobbed into Bradley's neck, his grip on him tightening. "You have the audacity to come back into my life right when I was becoming my own person again."

Bradley remained silent, his heart breaking at the raw anguish in Max's voice. He knew there were no words that could make up for what he'd done, but he could offer his presence, his understanding.

Max's sobs gradually subsided, but the intensity of his emotions remained. He clung to Bradley, the years of hurt and longing pouring out of him. "Do you have any idea what you did to me? You stole parts of me that I can never get back."

"I'm sorry," Bradley finally whispered, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm so sorry, Max."

Max pulled back slightly, looking up at Bradley through tear-filled eyes. "You don't get to be sorry. Not after everything."

Bradley nodded, accepting the weight of Max's words. "I know. But I want to try to make things right, if you'll let me."

Max stared at him, searching for any sign of insincerity. But all he saw was the same Bradley he had once loved, now vulnerable and open in a way he had never seen before.

"You can't just fix this," Max said, his voice softer but still filled with pain. "It's not that simple."

"Please," Bradley begged, his eyes searching Max's face, wanting to memorize every detail. But it hurt, god it hurt, seeing Max like this again. Crying because of him. He should have stayed away, it was the kinder thing to do. But it was like the universe wouldn't let him. He needed to be near Max. “Please, Max, Jesus Christ. Please. Let me try. I can't…” he had to stop himself before he started crying, his hands pulling Max into his chest again.

His fingers petted Max's hair, and Max clung to him. They just stood like that for a few minutes, or hours, Max couldn't tell. The passage of time was a distant memory, along with the other people in the shop.

“Excuse me,” came a voice, breaking through the bubble they were in. A barista stood there, looking at them with an annoyed expression. “I need to clean up the mess. Could you please move?”

Max pulled back, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, stepping aside.

Bradley glanced at the barista and then back at Max, his expression softening. “Can we talk? Please, just come with me. We need to talk.”

Max hesitated, his emotions still raw and swirling inside him. But he nodded, wiping the tears from his face. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

Bradley led Max to the nearby lake, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by offering to bring him home. He knew that was too much, and with their past, there would be implications to it. Instead, they walked along the waterline, not touching, just side by side, as the sun set in the distance. The distant sounds of children playing in the water faded as they moved further away from the source.

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the occasional animal call. Bradley finally broke the silence, his voice soft and steady.

"After I left you that morning," Bradley began, "I drove for hours. I didn't know where I was going, but I ended up at a clinic. I checked myself in that day. I knew I needed help, Max. I was... broken. Dangerous. To you, to myself, to everyone."

Max listened, his emotions still raw. Bradley’s voice, so familiar yet so changed, filled his mind.

"I spent years in therapy," Bradley continued. "It was... a lot to take in. I had to confront parts of myself I didn't even know existed. It was hard, Max. So hard."

Max could hear the pain in Bradley’s voice, the vulnerability he was showing. It was a side of Bradley he had never seen before.

"I avoided contact with people, romantic or platonic, out of fear of hurting them," Bradley said, his voice trembling slightly. "I didn't want to be the person I was. I couldn't bear the thought of hurting anyone like I hurt you."

The comment hit Max like a ton of bricks, making him feel disgustingly whorish by comparison with how he'd treated his own body during their time apart. He had tried to fill the void Bradley had left with meaningless encounters, but it had never worked. It had only made him feel emptier.

"I was scared, Max," Bradley admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of what I was, scared of what I could do. And I thought about you every day. Wondering if you were okay, if you had moved on. If you were happy."

When Bradley finished, Max didn’t speak. His head was reeling, filled with the weight of Bradley’s words and the reality of their shared past. He looked out at the water, the setting sun casting a warm glow over everything, but he felt cold inside.

Bradley stopped walking, turning to face Max. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Max. I just... I needed you to know. I needed you to understand."

Max met his gaze, the pain and confusion clear in his eyes. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process everything he had just heard. So he remained silent, the emotions swirling inside him like a storm.

Bradley sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I wish I could change the past, Max. I really do. But all I can do is try to be better now. And I want to. For you. For me."

Max took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive Bradley, didn’t know if he even wanted to. But he couldn't deny the conflicting emotions that swirled within him, the deepest pit of his heart begging him to please, just please, let Bradley back in. 

"Your issues don't excuse what you did, Bradley. They don't excuse how you treated me."

Bradley nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow. "You're right. They don't. It should never have been that way. But, Max, you were still the best thing I ever allowed in my life. My only regret throughout all these years is not getting help sooner, so we could have had a chance together."

Bradley stepped closer to Max, looking deeply into his eyes. "Every single moment I spent trying to better myself over the years was a desperate attempt to become even close to the kind of man you deserved. Every single thing I did was about you, even when I tried for it not to be. And believe me, I tried. I tried to forget about you. But I couldn't. You meant so much more to me than words could describe."

Max's head was reeling, the weight of Bradley's words pressing down on him. He saw the raw emotion in Bradley's eyes, the sincerity in his voice. It was overwhelming, and he didn't know how to process it all.

Bradley took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving Max's. "Max, you are the most beautiful, kind, and lovely person I've ever known. You were always so understanding, so patient, even when I didn't deserve it. You were this bright light in my life, and I was too blind to see it. Too wrapped up in my own darkness to appreciate the warmth you brought."

Max's eyes began to well up with tears again, the raw emotion in Bradley's words cutting deep.

"You were, and still are, otherworldly to me," Bradley continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "Nothing and no one could ever come close to what you mean to me. You have this incredible ability to see the good in people, even when they don't see it in themselves. You saw something in me that I couldn't see, and you made me want to be better, to be worthy of your love."

Bradley's hands found their way to Max's cheeks, wiping away his tears with his thumbs. His touch was so gentle, so tender, nothing like it had been in the past.

"I never realized how much I needed you until you were gone," Bradley admitted, his voice breaking. "And I hate myself for pushing you away. For not getting help sooner. For all the pain I caused you. But Max, I swear, every day I've tried to be a better person, to be someone you could be proud of."

Max's tears flowed freely now, his heart aching with the intensity of the moment. Bradley's eyes were filled with so much pain and love, and it was overwhelming.

"You were my anchor, Max," Bradley whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You kept me grounded, made me feel alive. And I lost that. I lost you. But I never stopped caring about you, never stopped wanting to be the man you saw in me."

Bradley leaned in slightly, his forehead resting against Max's. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I want you to know that you are everything to me. You always have been. And no matter what happens, nothing will ever change that."

Max's heart felt like it was going to burst from the intensity of his feelings. He couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to express the turmoil inside him. But as he looked into Bradley's eyes, he saw the sincerity, the genuine love and regret, and it was enough.

Bradley's hands gently cradled Max's face, his thumbs still brushing away the tears. "I love you, Max. I always have, and I always will."

Max's breath hitched, and he felt a sob rise in his throat. He closed his eyes, leaning into Bradley's touch, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, standing by the lake, trying to find their way back to each other.

Max tilted his head up and kissed Bradley, so softly, a peck. It was still filled with so much emotion, so much tension that had built up over the years. Just their lips brushing together, neither of them demanding more, and Max's hands moved to where Bradley's were resting over his cheeks. He cupped the backs of his hands and sighed into him.

When they pulled away, Bradley looked at him with so much hope, so much longing, and relief. Max gently pulled Bradley's hands off of him. He stepped closer to him, their chests brushing against each other as his hands turned Bradley's in them. He lifted them up, pressing their palms together in the fading light. His hands were bigger than Bradley's, despite Bradley being taller. Max leaned against Bradley's chest as he intertwined their fingers, both of their eyes locked on where their hands met.

The moment felt suspended in time, the soft murmurs of the lake and the fading light of the sunset created a deep sense of peace.

Max took a deep breath, feeling the steady rhythm of Bradley's heartbeat against his chest. It was a grounding sensation, bringing a strange mix of comfort and longing. 

Bradley squeezed Max's hand gently, his eyes still fixed on their intertwined fingers. "Max," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. No words had to be exchanged between them, as they both understood. "Thank you." Bradley breathed out.

Max looked back up at Bradley, their bodies still pressed together. Blue eyes collided with brown ones, reflecting the disappearing sun, and they kissed again. It was as if the years of loneliness, longing, and desperation melted away in that single moment. Their lips met with a tenderness that hadn't existed before, a softness that spoke of forgiveness and hope.

The kiss deepened, growing more heated, but it was so different from the past. There was no demand, no hatred, no cruelty. It was just the two of them, getting lost in each other. Bradley's hand found its way to the back of Max's neck, pulling him closer, while Max's fingers traced the lines of Bradley's jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Their bodies, so used to each other even after years apart, reacted instinctively. Max's heart pounded in his chest as he felt Bradley's hand slip around his waist, drawing him even nearer. The kiss was unhurried, filled with a gentle intensity that left them both breathless. It was so easy, as easy as breathing. Each touch, each movement felt natural, almost like they had never parted in the first place.

Max's other hand released Bradley's and slid up to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his palm. Bradley responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against Max's lips, seeking entrance. Max parted his lips, welcoming him in, their tongues dancing together in a slow, sensual rhythm.

As they continued to kiss, their breaths mingling, Max felt a sense of peace wash over him. It was a peace he hadn't felt in years, a sense of belonging that he had thought lost forever. Bradley's touch was gentle, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every second of their reunion.

Finally, they pulled back, their foreheads resting against each other, their breaths coming in soft, shallow gasps. Max opened his eyes, looking into Bradley's, and saw a reflection of his own emotions: love, hope, and a deep, abiding need.

"I've missed you so much," Max whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Bradley nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've missed you too, Max. More than words can say."

Few words were spoken as they made their way back to the Bean Scene, where they got into Bradley's car together. The drive to Bradley's hotel room was filled with a charged silence, punctuated only by the occasional murmur of reassurance or a soft touch. Max stole glances at Bradley's face, studying the ways it had changed through the years. The lines around his eyes were a little deeper, his jaw a little more defined, but the essence of him was the same.

Max could picture it so vividly in his mind, the images that he'd conjured up so often during their time apart. He had memorized every detail of Bradley's face, but seeing it now, up close, was different. It was real, tangible, and filled with a warmth he had never allowed himself to hope for.

Bradley's hand found its way to Max's thigh, resting there gently as he drove. Max covered it with his own, squeezing lightly, feeling the connection between them strengthen with every passing mile. The city lights blurred outside the windows as they passed them.

When they arrived at the hotel, Bradley parked and turned to Max, his eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation. Max simply smiled and nodded, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. They walked inside together, Bradley's hand on the small of Max's back, guiding him through the lobby and up to his room.

The room was quiet and dimly lit, a sanctuary from the outside world. Bradley closed the door behind them, and for a moment, they just stood there, absorbing the significance of the moment. Then, with a tenderness that spoke of their mutual understanding, Bradley reached for Max, pulling him into another kiss. Each touch, each caress was filled with unspoken promises and a deep-seated need to heal the wounds of the past. They moved together with a grace and ease that came from knowing each other so intimately, their bodies remembering the familiar rhythms.

Max's hands roamed over Bradley's back, feeling the solidity of his muscles beneath his shirt. Bradley's fingers tangled in Max's hair, holding him close as their kisses grew more intense. It was different from before – there was no urgency, no desperation. Just a profound sense of belonging and love.

They eventually made their way to the bed, tumbling into it together. Bradley held Max close, his touch gentle and reassuring, Max on top of him. They lay there, their breaths mingling, hearts beating in sync, savoring the moment. For a while, they just looked at each other.

"I love you, Max," Bradley whispered again, his voice filled with emotion.

Max looked into Bradley's eyes, seeing the depth of his feelings reflected there. He hadn't said it back, but in that moment, he knew that he would. For now, he simply leaned in and kissed Bradley once more, pouring all of his love and hope into that single kiss. The past was still there, but it no longer held them captive.

Max slowly moved down to kiss over Bradley's neck, his hands gently pushing up his shirt to feel his skin. He did it very slowly, deliberately, giving Bradley all the time he needed to get used to him again; to stop him, if he wanted to. He didn't.

Bradley’s breath hitched slightly as Max's lips brushed against his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Max's hands slid up, exploring the familiar terrain of Bradley's torso, his fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. Each touch was tender, filled with reverence and care. He pulled back for a moment, tugging the shirt off of Bradley before he bent down again. 

Max continued to kiss Bradley's neck, his mouth opening occasionally to suck on a specific spot. He didn't bite him; he wasn't sure if that was okay, anymore. Bradley let out a soft moan, and he could feel Bradley's heart beating rapidly beneath his touch, a comforting rhythm that matched his own. Bradley's hand rested on Max's head, holding him close, encouraging him without words.

Their bodies moved together with a natural ease, a silent understanding between them. Max's kisses trailed down, his lips brushing against Bradley's collarbone, then lower, exploring the expanse of his chest. Bradley’s skin felt warm and inviting under his touch, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the familiar scent of his skin.

Max took his time, savoring each moment, each touch. It was a slow dance of rediscovery, a reaffirmation of their connection. Bradley's fingers tightened in Max's hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips as Max’s kisses grew more insistent.

Max's hands found their way to the button of Bradley's pants, undoing them with ease as his lips continued to trail lower, his mouth moving over Bradley's stomach. Each kiss was deliberate, filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes about how much he cherished this moment. He could feel the tension in Bradley's body, but it was a tension born of anticipation, not fear.

Bradley’s hands remained in Max's hair, guiding Max as he explored. The connection between them was palpable, an invisible thread that bound them together. Max’s kisses continued their journey, his lips brushing over the ridges and contours of Bradley’s abdomen, his hands sliding the fabric of his pants down.

Bradley’s breath hitched again. Max paused, looking up at Bradley with a question in his eyes, seeking permission. Bradley nodded, a silent affirmation that he wanted this, that he needed this as much as Max did.

Max's lips continued their descent, and Bradley’s body responded to Max's touch, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps as Max moved lower, his kisses trailing down Bradley's thighs.

The world outside their bubble of intimacy ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other. Max’s hands caressed Bradley’s legs, his touch gentle yet firm, his lips continuing their exploration. Bradley’s fingers tightened in Max's hair, his body arching slightly in response to Max’s touch.

Max felt almost choked up with pure adoration and appreciation as Bradley reacted so responsively under his touch. Every soft sigh, every quiet moan, every slight arch of Bradley's body was like a symphony to his ears, each note resonating deeply within him. He had longed for this connection, this closeness, for so long. The realization that they were here, together again, filled him with a profound sense of gratitude and love.

Max paused, his lips lingering on Bradley's skin, and looked up at him, positioned between his legs. Bradley's eyes were half-closed, his face flushed with emotion and desire. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia crashing over Max. He vividly remembered the first time he'd had Bradley like this, all those years ago. The intensity, the rawness of their first time together, contrasted sharply with the tenderness and love that now filled the space between them.

Back then, their encounters had been driven by a mix of passion and confusion, a struggle for control and dominance. But now, it was different. Now, it was about love, about rediscovery. Max's heart swelled with emotion, his throat tightening as he realized just how much he had missed this, missed Bradley.

The memories of their past were bittersweet, but they also made this moment even more precious. Max's hands gently caressed Bradley's thighs, his touch soft, filled with adoration. He could feel the slight tremble in Bradley's muscles, the unspoken trust and vulnerability that lay between them.

"Bradley," Max whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Look at me.”

Bradley's eyes opened fully, meeting Max's gaze. There was a look of understanding, of shared history, and of hope for the future. He reached down with his free hand, his fingers brushing against Max's cheek, a silent acknowledgment of everything they had been through and everything they still had to face.

Max felt a tear slip down his cheek, not out of sadness, but out of the overwhelming love and appreciation he felt in that moment. He leaned into Bradley's touch, his heart full. This was their chance to make things right, to build something beautiful out of the pieces of their past.

With renewed determination, Max continued his gentle exploration, his kisses and touches filled with all the love he felt for Bradley. The past had brought them here, but it was the present that would define their future. Max's mouth brushed up against Bradley's length, his lips only slightly parted. His eyes remained locked on Bradley's as one of his hands moved from his thigh, pulling the hand from his cheek and intertwining their fingers. Bradley let out a shaky breath at that, and Max relished in it as he let his tongue slide out of his mouth, exploring Bradley with a slowness that had never been there before.

Bradley kept his eyes locked on Max's as he slowly took him into his mouth, his lips engulfing him, his mouth hot and wet. He tried to steady his breathing, but it was futile as Max swirled his tongue around his tip, drawing out a long moan from the older man. Bradley felt like he was ascending. He hadn't allowed himself to feel like this in years, years. 

Max took him all the way down to the hilt. He had no difficulty swallowing Bradley's cock down, his lidded eyes trying desperately to remain glued onto Bradley's. But Bradley was faltering, soft moans escaping his lips as his eyes drifted shut from the pleasure of it all. He squeezed his hand as he pulled back, before taking him again. Max slowly started picking up the pace, Bradley's soft cries of pleasure egging him on, feeling Bradley's hand tightening in his hair, his other hand squeezing Max's. 

Max's free hand traveled up Bradley's torso, feeling every ridge of his body under his fingertips. He pressed two of his fingers over Bradley's lips, hoping he would understand. He did, his eyes drifting open as he took Max's fingers into his mouth, licking over them and wetting them sufficiently. Sufficiently enough. Max wasn't sure it was enough.

Max pulled his hand back, watching Bradley lick his lips as he did so. He let his own eyes drift shut as he focused again on the task at hand, his mouth working Bradley as his fingers made their way to Bradley's entrance. He slowly pressed one into him, feeling the way Bradley's walls closed in around it. He moaned around Bradley.

Max tried to ignore the heat building up between his own legs, wanting to focus wholly on Bradley, wanting to show him everything he felt for him, through his touch. But it was getting hard to ignore as Bradley easily took his second finger, his thighs spreading more for Max, shaking and twitching beneath him. Max had to pull away, catching his breath as it came out ragged. Bradley's eyes flitted open, dazed and confused at the sudden lack of contact. His fingers pulled out of Bradley, his hand releasing Bradley’s own hand as he looked up at him. 

Max's arms hooked under Bradley's hips and he lifted them slightly, his face lowering. Realization dawned on Bradley's face, and he flushed red as Max's mouth prodded at his hole. “Max…” he whined out, his head falling back as Max's tongue swiped out, lapping at him. “Holy shit…”

Max had never done this before; not with Bradley, at least. But his tongue eagerly explored Bradley's hole, causing Bradley to arch his back off the bed, trying to take him deeper. Bradley's legs locked around Max's head, his fingers tightening in his hair as he pulled him in. Max had to dig his fingernails into Bradley's thigh, to remind him that he had to breathe. Bradley’s legs loosened around him, taking the hint, and Max pulled back, gasping for air. Bradley mumbled an apology, but Max immediately dipped his head back in, his tongue thrusting into Bradley. He lapped at his insides, his tongue sliding easily against his walls, coating them in his saliva, and Bradley moaned out loudly at the feeling, using every ounce of his willpower to not suffocate Max there. 

Max had to pull back again. He had to. He was losing himself too much in the moment, wanting so badly to bring Bradley to the edge. But he needed more. Max's tongue ran over his lips as he gazed at Bradley, his eyes blown wide with lust, and his fingers made their way to his hole again, pumping in and out of him as Max's other hand began sloppily undoing the button of his own pants. He couldn't get them down, not with one hand, and he couldn't stop fucking his fingers into Bradley. He paused, gazing at Bradley as he moaned out under him, his legs trembling and his walls clenching around Max's fingers. Max curled his fingers inwards, brushing against Bradley's prostate, eliciting a loud cry of pleasure from the older man. He let his fingers brush over it a few more times, before he started slowly pushing in a third finger. It was a little difficult, with only spit as lube. But Bradley was ever accommodating, his walls stretching for Max's fingers to work their way in. 

Max's free hand moved from where he had been absently palming at himself through his underwear, up to Bradley's length. His hand engulfed him, stroking him as he pumped his fingers in and out of him. Bradley's mouth was once again the source of a string of lewd sounds, his back arching and his fingers clawing at the sheets around him. 

Somehow, somehow Bradley managed to look up at him, his mouth trembling as he shakily managed actual words, “Max…please…” Max didn't need him to say anything else, he'd seen that look in his eyes a million, million times before. 

Max released him, pulling his fingers from him. Max had to pull his own shirt off, before shakily pulling his own pants down, along with his underwear. Now that the moment was here, after years of anticipation, Max felt profoundly nervous. But he needed him, oh he needed him. 

“Do you have lube?” Max asked shakily, trying not to let his nervousness show through. Bradley shook his head and laughed a little bit. 

“Still no.” Max felt concern wash over him. He didn't have any, either. But Bradley looked up at him with so much love, so much adoration, and he smiled at him. “It's okay, Max.” 

And Max was already situating himself between his legs, his hand coming up to his own mouth as he coated it with as much saliva as he could muster, before pushing it back down between Bradley's legs. He rubbed it over his hole before fingering it into him again. And he watched as Bradley’s face contorted with pleasure again, eagerly taking his fingers. And Max had to feel him, God, he had to. His fingers once again pulled out of him, replaced by his thick length pressing against his hole. It would be difficult, he thought, to push into Bradley like this.

It wasn't.

Max pushed into him slowly, feeling pleasure quickly overtaking himself at the feeling of Bradley squeezing around him. His hand made it's way to Bradley's leaking cock, working him gently as he pushed his way deeper inside, trying to distract him from the slight burn of being stretched open so wide. Max brushed up against his prostate, and Bradley’s legs clamped around his hips as he cried out, his hands reaching up and searching for Max. They pressed themselves over his chest, and Max watched him in awe. Once his hips pressed against Bradley's, buried all the way inside of him, Max felt complete. 

“Bradley.” Max whined out. Bradley's eyes fluttered open, and he looked back up at Max, the same awe reflected back in them. Max placed his free hand over one of Bradley's where it lay on his chest, intertwining their fingers once more as he pulled it away, lifting it up to his face. His eyes remained locked on Bradley's as he rolled his hips back, and then into him, pressing a soft kiss to his wrist. Bradley responded, his eyes falling shut again as his face twisted in an expression of pleasure. And he used his free hand to pull Max down to him, kissing him as Max slowly began to move his hips, a steady motion between them. 

It was slow, so slow, as neither of them wanted this moment to end. Max's hand gently worked Bradley's cock between them as he kissed him, his hips steadily rolling into him, grinding against his insides and pressing against that special spot. He caught every moan in his mouth, drinking him in. 

Despite the slow pace, Max could feel his orgasm approaching at an alarming rate. Their time apart had taken its toll. And he could tell Bradley was just the same, his walls clenching around him as he shuddered and arched his back into him. 

Max had to pull back from the kiss to breathe, burying his face in Bradley's shoulder as he panted slowly. He pressed soft kisses to Bradley's neck as he felt himself twitching inside him, feeling his cum start to spurt out of him. He worked himself into Bradley through his orgasm, not stopping his thrusts or his hand, which was still working Bradley's cock. He didn't even realize Bradley was orgasming too, too lost in the moment, in the gentle way that he lost himself in Bradley. He pushed into him one last time, remaining there as he panted against his neck. 

He only came to when he felt Bradley's gentle fingers brushing through his hair again.

“I love you too.” 

Max woke up the next morning, his body curled protectively around Bradley's. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over them. Max blinked sleepily, taking in the sight of Bradley's peaceful face, his eyes still closed. He felt a surge of affection and relief. Bradley was still there. He hadn’t left.

Bradley stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He turned his head slightly, meeting Max’s gaze. A soft smile spread across his lips, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from Max's forehead.

"Good morning," Bradley murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

Max smiled back, leaning into his touch. "Good morning."

They lay there in comfortable silence for a few moments, just gazing into each other’s eyes, sharing gentle kisses and touches. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, filling Max with a sense of peace he hadn't felt in years.

"How did you sleep?" Max asked softly, his fingers tracing patterns on Bradley's arm.

"Better than I have in a long time," Bradley replied, his eyes softening as he looked at Max. "How about you?"

"Same," Max admitted. "Being with you... it feels right."

Bradley nodded, his expression serious. "It does. It really does."

Max leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Bradley's lips. "I’m so glad you stayed."

Bradley’s hand cupped Max's cheek, his thumb brushing over his skin. "I couldn’t leave. Not after last night. Not after realizing how much I’ve missed this. Missed you. Plus, uh, it's my hotel room." He smiled.

Max felt a lump form in his throat, but he swallowed it down, focusing on the warmth of Bradley's touch. "I’ve missed you too, Bradley. More than I can put into words."

They shared another tender kiss, their bodies pressing closer together. Max's heart swelled with emotion, and he knew that this was where he was meant to be, wrapped up in Bradley's arms, sharing these quiet, precious moments.

"I want to make things right," Bradley whispered against Max's lips. "I want to be the man you deserve, Max."

They held each other close, the morning light gradually brightening the room. It was a new day, a new beginning for both of them. And as they lay there, sharing soft words and gentle kisses, they knew that they had a chance to build something beautiful together.

"I love you, Max," Bradley whispered, his lips brushing against Max's ear.

Max smiled, his heart feeling light and full. "I love you too, Bradley."

The past was behind them, and the future stretched out before them, filled with endless possibilities. And as they welcomed the morning together, they knew that they would face whatever came their way, hand in hand, heart to heart, together.

Chapter Text

As the months passed, Max and Bradley found their way back to each other, slowly, deliberately, like two travelers who had been lost for too long. Every conversation they shared, every gentle touch, felt like a bridge, connecting the distance that had once separated them. Max felt himself falling for Bradley all over again, but this time, it was different. This time, he wasn’t falling into chaos. He wasn’t falling alone.

Bradley had changed in ways that Max hadn’t expected. The sharp edges that used to define him had softened, as if time and experience had smoothed over the roughness. The anger that once simmered just beneath the surface had faded, replaced by a quiet calm. It was the calm of a man who had faced his own darkness, wrestled with it, and come out the other side, maybe not unscathed, but stronger, more aware. When Max looked into Bradley’s eyes now, he didn’t see the cold, distant person he once knew. Instead, he saw someone who had been through the fire and emerged with a deeper understanding of himself. There was a warmth in Bradley now, a gentleness that had been missing before. It was as if the ice that once encased his heart had melted, leaving something more tender, more real in its place.

Max’s love for Bradley felt different now too. It wasn’t the intense, all-consuming fire of their younger years. It was something quieter, steadier, more enduring. He didn’t fear the shadows of their past anymore, because he could see how much Bradley had grown. He could feel it in the way Bradley held him at the end of a long day, the way he whispered words of comfort, the way he looked at Max with an expression that said he was home. Bradley wasn’t trying to control things anymore. He wasn’t trying to dominate or win. Instead, he was trying to understand, to trust, to be the man Max needed him to be.

As they moved forward together, Max found himself rediscovering Bradley, learning him all over again, but in a way that felt more honest, more true. Bradley wasn’t perfect, but he was trying, and that effort meant everything to Max. Their relationship had become something deeper, more resilient. It wasn’t about surviving anymore. It was about living, about building a future that they could both believe in, a future where they could finally find the peace and happiness that had eluded them for so long.

One day, as they packed up the last of Max's belongings in his apartment, the air was filled with a mixture of anticipation and a touch of bittersweet nostalgia. The familiar creak of the wooden floorboards, the soft hum of the city outside, and the way the afternoon light filtered through the windows—these were all things Max had grown accustomed to. Yet, as he folded another shirt and placed it carefully in a box, he felt a strange sense of detachment, as if he was already beginning to leave this chapter of his life behind.

Bradley, who had been quietly helping, paused for a moment, watching Max as he moved about the room. There was something thoughtful in his gaze; he could see the slight tension in Max’s shoulders, the way he lingered over certain items as if saying a silent goodbye to them. Bradley reached out, gently placing his hand over Max’s, stopping him in his tracks.

"Are you sure you’re ready for this?" Bradley asked, his voice low and filled with a concern that made Max's heart swell.

Max looked up at him, their eyes meeting. For a moment, the question hung in the air between them, laden with all the unspoken worries and hopes they both carried. Max took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he intertwined their fingers.

"I am," Max replied, his voice steady but warm. He offered Bradley a small, reassuring smile, though the emotions behind it were complex. "It's the right step, you know? Moving forward, moving in together. Besides…" he added, his smile widening into something more playful, "your place is way nicer than this apartment."

Bradley chuckled, the sound lightening the mood, easing the tension in the room. "It’s just a house, Max," he said, his tone softening. "What matters is that we’re together."

Max's heart fluttered at the simple truth of Bradley's words. The apartment, with all its memories and the life he had built within its walls, suddenly seemed less significant in the grand scheme of things. What mattered, truly mattered, was standing right in front of him, holding him, grounding him in the reality of their shared future.

"You're right," Max murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "Being with you is what makes it feel like home."

Bradley smiled, the kind that reached his eyes, lighting them up with an emotion so deep it made Max's breath catch. Without another word, he closed the distance between them, pressing a gentle kiss to Max’s lips. It was a kiss that spoke of promises, of unspoken vows that they would face whatever came next together.

As they pulled back, their eyes lingered on each other, the weight of the moment settling around them like a comfortable blanket. There was a sense of finality in the air, but also a beginning—an uncharted journey they were about to embark on together. It was a little terrifying, but also exhilarating.

Max glanced around the half-packed room, taking in the boxes stacked neatly in the corner, the bare walls that had once held pictures of his past, and the now-empty shelves that had housed his favorite comics and mementos. This place had been his sanctuary, a space where he had found himself after everything fell apart. But now, standing here with Bradley, he realized that he was ready to leave it behind. Not because it didn’t matter, but because what he had with Bradley mattered more.

Bradley, as if sensing the swirl of emotions in Max, took his hand, intertwining their fingers. "We’ve got this," he said, his voice full of quiet confidence. "The months ahead… there will be challenges, sure, but we’ll face them together. We’re stronger now. We’re ready."

Max nodded, feeling a surge of warmth spread through his chest. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice firm with conviction. "We’re ready."

They shared another kiss, this one lingering, filled with all the love and trust they had built and rebuilt. It was a promise, a silent agreement that no matter what the future held, they would face it side by side. When they finally broke apart, there was a shared understanding between them, a certainty that this was the right path, the one they were meant to walk together.

Bradley gave Max's hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's finish up here and get home."

Max smiled, a genuine, contented smile that reached his eyes. "Yeah, let’s go home."

But actually moving in with Bradley was an entirely new experience for Max, one that stirred up a mix of emotions he hadn’t anticipated. The sheer size of Bradley's mansion, with its polished floors, grand staircases, and rooms that seemed to stretch on endlessly, left Max feeling like an intruder in a world he didn’t belong to. The maid and butler who moved quietly through the halls only heightened that feeling. He wasn’t used to this kind of life, this level of luxury, and it made him feel out of place, like a visitor in his own home.

Max had always been more comfortable in simpler surroundings—his penthouse apartment being an outlier. The cozy coffee shops he frequented, the familiar hum of the city outside his window, and even his childhood home. But here, in Bradley's mansion, everything was so pristine, so meticulously arranged, that it made Max uneasy. He found himself hesitating before touching anything, worried that he might disrupt the careful order of things. 

Bradley noticed Max's discomfort almost immediately. He could see the tension in the way Max moved, the uncertainty in his eyes. One evening, after Max had spent the day quietly trying to find his footing in this new environment, Bradley pulled him aside, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of Bradley’s embrace was a stark contrast to the coldness Max felt creeping into his bones.

"You belong here, Max," Bradley murmured against his ear, his voice filled with reassurance. "By my side. This is our home now."

Max wanted to believe him. He nodded, trying to let Bradley's words sink in, to let them replace the doubts that had taken root in his mind. He could feel the sincerity in Bradley’s voice, the way his arms tightened around him as if trying to physically anchor Max to this place, to their shared life. Slowly but surely, Max began to feel more at ease, though it was a gradual process, one that took time and patience.

Their domestic life together became a blend of comfort and excitement, though the transition was not without its challenges. Max found solace in the small, intimate moments they shared—cuddling on the couch as they watched movies, their bodies intertwined in a way that felt both natural and necessary. Those moments were grounding, reminding Max that this was his home too, that he wasn’t just a guest in Bradley’s life.

On some nights, they stayed up late working on their laptops side by side. The quiet click of keys filled the room, a steady rhythm that was oddly comforting. Every now and then, Max would glance over at Bradley, catching his eye, and they’d exchange a small, private smile. Those moments were when Max felt most at ease, when the mansion didn’t feel so big, and the distance between them didn’t feel so wide.

But despite the growing comfort, there were still moments when Max felt a pang of unease. The absences, when he had to go out for work, were particularly difficult. He missed Bradley fiercely, the quiet strength of his presence, the way he could make Max feel safe with just a look or a touch. And the mansion felt emptier when Bradley wasn’t there, the silence more pronounced. But those absences only made their reunions sweeter. 

Each time Max returned, the way Bradley would pull him into his arms, kissing him like it was the first time, reminded Max of why he was here, why he had made this leap. The connection between them, the love that had grown stronger with each passing day, was worth every moment of discomfort, every doubt that had crossed his mind. 

Max and Bradley were nestled comfortably on the couch, the soft hum of a late afternoon movie playing in the background. Bradley was lying lazily against Max's chest, his head resting on Max's shoulder while Max's gentle fingers worked their way up and down his length. Bradley was leaning back into him, his pants around his ankles and his hands holding onto the arm that Max had wrapped around him, his head tilted back as his breathing came out ragged. Max pressed his face into Bradley’s shoulder as he slowly rubbed his thumb over the head of Bradley’s cock, mumbling softly to him. “Good boy,” Max purred out as Bradley moaned softly, his legs spreading slightly. 

Max was completely lost in the sensation of Bradley’s warmth, his steady breathing, and the contentment of just being together when he suddenly felt a shift in the air. It wasn’t a sound, not exactly, but more of a sixth sense he had developed over the months they’d lived together. The same one he got whenever the staff came in, even if they were as quiet as mice. But today wasn’t a day the staff would normally be here. Max straightened, his fingers pausing as he focused on the front of the house.

Then he heard it—an unfamiliar woman’s voice calling out for Bradley. The sound of her voice immediately set his nerves on edge, a mix of curiosity and something else. Before Max could even process it, Bradley sprang up from his relaxed position, his cheeks tinged with a light dusting of red from the intimacy they had just been sharing.

"Shit," Bradley muttered under his breath, quickly pulling his pants back up, smoothing down his clothes and running a hand through his hair. There was a sudden urgency in his movements, a far cry from the laziness that had enveloped him just moments before.

Max blinked in surprise, his heart beating a little faster as he watched Bradley fuss over his appearance. "Who is that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though a hint of unease had crept in.

Bradley glanced at him, a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness in his eyes. "It’s… Avery."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. He had heard of Bradley’s younger sister, of course, but they had never met. Avery was something of a legend in the corporate world, especially within the circles that Bradley’s company operated in. She was known for her sharp mind and even sharper tongue, a force to be reckoned with. The few times Bradley had mentioned her, it was always with a mixture of pride and exasperation.

Max followed Bradley to the door tentatively, his heart still racing with a combination of curiosity and the remnants of the tender moment they were in the middle of. As they reached the entrance, Max laid eyes on the woman standing in the doorway. She was unfamiliar, yet so familiar at the same time. Avery had the same striking blue eyes as Bradley, hidden behind square, black-rimmed glasses, and the same golden brown hair, though hers was tied back in a sleek, professional bun. Her posture was straight, almost imposing, and there was a confidence in the way she held herself that immediately commanded attention.

"Avery," Bradley greeted her with a mix of warmth and apprehension, stepping forward to give her a quick hug. When he pulled back, there was still a hint of pink on his cheeks, and Max noticed how Bradley seemed to straighten himself up even more, as if trying to match her composure. "It’s, uh, good to see you. You didn’t mention you were coming by."

Avery’s eyes swept over Bradley, her expression a mix of affection and scrutiny. "Clearly," she replied with a smirk, her voice carrying that unmistakable undertone of sass. "You look like you’ve just rolled out of bed." Her eyes darted to Max, taking him in with a quick, assessing glance before she turned back to her brother. "Should I be worried about your work ethic, or is this what you do now? Lounging around all day while the company runs itself?"

Bradley let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. "No, of course not. We were just, you know, taking a break."

"Taking a break?" Avery echoed, her eyebrow arching in a way that made Max wonder if she had practiced that look in the mirror. "Is that what we’re calling it now?" She turned her gaze back to Max, her eyes narrowing slightly, but there was a glint of amusement in them. "And you must be Max."

Max nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, that’s me.”

Bradley stepped in quickly, as if trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. "Max, this is Avery, the smarter version of me," he said with a hint of self-deprecation, though there was genuine affection in his voice.

Avery didn’t miss a beat. "It’s true," she said, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Smarter, more capable, better looking—honestly, the list goes on." She looked at Bradley, and though her words were biting, there was a soft fondness in her eyes. "But don’t worry, Bradley. You still have your uses."

Max couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though he couldn’t deny the sibling dynamic playing out before him was fascinating. It was clear that they cared for each other deeply, but it was also clear that Avery wasn’t one to pull punches, especially when it came to her brother.

"Why don’t we move this to the living room?" Bradley suggested, a touch of relief in his voice as he gestured for them to move further into the house.

Avery nodded, already making her way toward the living room with the confidence of someone who knew the place as if it were her own home. Max realized it probably had been, at one point. Max followed behind, still trying to get a read on her. Bradley’s description of her as the smarter, more capable sibling seemed accurate enough, but there was something else—an edge to her that Max hadn’t expected.

They all settled onto the couches, Bradley sitting close to Max while Avery took the seat opposite them. The atmosphere was a mix of tension and familiarity, like a storm on the horizon that hadn’t quite decided whether it would blow over or make landfall.

"So," Avery began, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back, her eyes locking onto Bradley’s. "How’s work been? Or should I say, how’s it been for me, since I seem to be doing most of it?"

Bradley winced slightly, though he quickly masked it with a smile. "Things are going well," he said, trying to sound casual. "We’ve had some good developments in the last quarter, and I’m working on a few new projects that should take off soon."

"Is that right?" Avery replied, her tone skeptical. "Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been slacking off.”

Max shifted slightly, feeling a bit like an outsider in this exchange. It was clear that Avery took her role in the company very seriously, and that she wasn’t afraid to let Bradley know it. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself, it was almost as if she believed the company was hers and Bradley was just a figurehead.

"I wouldn’t say that," Bradley protested, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "I’ve been busy with other aspects of the business. You know, the PR stuff, keeping the shareholders happy…"

Avery rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. PR and shareholders? That’s the easy part, Bradley. The real work is in the development, the innovation, the day-to-day operations. And guess who’s been handling all of that?"

Bradley sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You have, and you’ve been doing a great job. I’m not denying that. But we’re a team, Avery. We’ve always been a team."

"A team?" Avery’s voice was sharp, almost cutting. "It’s hard to feel like part of a team when one of us is doing all the heavy lifting."

Max watched the exchange, feeling like he was witnessing something deeply personal, yet integral to understanding who Bradley and Avery were as people. There was a dynamic here that he hadn’t fully grasped before—a sibling rivalry, yes, but also a deep-seated need for recognition and validation, especially on Avery’s part. She wasn’t just demanding respect; she was demanding her rightful place in the company, a place that, to Max’s ears, she believed had been unfairly given to Bradley.

"Look, Avery," Bradley said, his tone softening as he leaned forward slightly. "I know it hasn’t been easy. I know you’ve been taking on a lot, and I appreciate everything you’ve done. But you have to understand, this isn’t just about the company. It’s about us, about family."

Avery’s expression softened ever so slightly, but the sharpness in her eyes remained. "Family is one thing, Bradley. Business is another. And if you’re not going to step up and take this seriously, then maybe you should just hand over the reins and let me do what needs to be done."

Bradley looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Avery’s gaze made him stop. Instead, he sighed and leaned back, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You’re right," he admitted quietly. "You’ve always been better at this than me. I know that. I’m just trying to… find a balance, I guess."

Max felt a pang of empathy for Bradley. He knew how hard it was for him to admit his shortcomings, especially in front of Avery, who clearly had no trouble pointing them out. 

"Balance is good," Avery replied, her tone softening slightly. "But you need to remember that this isn’t just about you anymore. There’s a lot at stake, and if you’re not careful, you could lose everything we’ve worked for. Bradley," she paused, "it's time we really talk about this. I've been running things on my own for a while now, and I think it's time you officially stepped aside. Let me take over entirely."

Bradley listened intently, his expression neutral, though Max could sense the tension in his body. Max felt an urge to comfort him, to lean into him, but instead, he opted for a subtler approach, pressing his shoulder gently against Bradley’s in silent support.

Avery continued, her voice steady, almost rehearsed. "You know I’ve been handling most of the responsibilities anyway. The company needs someone who’s fully committed to it, who’s passionate about where it’s going. That’s not you, Bradley, and it never was."

Max glanced at Bradley, noticing the slight furrow of his brow, the way his jaw tightened as Avery spoke. But he didn’t interrupt her. He absorbed every word, letting her make her case.

"And frankly," Avery added, her tone softening slightly, "I’ve always been the better choice. I’m smarter, more driven, and I actually care about the business. Father was wrong to pass it to you, and we both know it. The only reason he did was because you’re a man, and he couldn’t see past his outdated views."

There was a brief silence after Avery finished, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. Max could feel the weight of the moment, the years of unresolved tension between the siblings bubbling to the surface. 

Bradley exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned back slightly in his seat. "You’re right, Avery," he said, his voice calm but laced with emotion. "You’ve always been the better choice. I never wanted this company. I didn’t deserve it. Father chose me because of some outdated notion of inheritance, not because I was the right person for the job."

Max felt Bradley’s words deeply, hearing the years of frustration and resentment that had clearly built up inside him. He pressed his shoulder a little more firmly against Bradley’s, offering silent comfort as Bradley continued.

"He was a sexist old asshole," Bradley said bluntly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "And I’m glad I don’t have to put up with him anymore."

Avery’s stern expression softened, and for the first time, she smiled—a real, genuine smile. "He really was," she agreed, a light laugh escaping her. The tension in the room began to dissipate, replaced by a calmer, more familiar atmosphere.

Bradley leaned forward, his tone becoming less formal, more relaxed. "You should have taken over from the start, Avery. I’m sorry you didn’t get that chance right away. But if you want it now, it’s yours. I’ll step aside officially. I want you to have it."

Avery nodded, her smile fading into something more serious, more reflective. "Thank you, Bradley. That means more than you know."

The conversation began to drift into lighter territory as the siblings settled into a more comfortable rapport. They talked about the company in a more casual manner, exchanging ideas and laughing about some of the more ridiculous decisions their father had made in the past. The atmosphere was no longer charged with tension, but instead filled with a warmth that Max found endearing.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to Bradley and Max’s relationship. Avery, her eyes twinkling with mischief, asked, "So, Bradley, how’s married life treating you?"

Max nearly choked on his drink at the question, while Bradley stammered in response, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. "W-we’re not married," he managed to get out, shooting a quick glance at Max, who was trying—and failing—to suppress a grin.

Avery raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "Not yet, huh? Well, you two certainly act like an old married couple."

Max chuckled, finally finding his voice. "We’re just… taking things one step at a time," he said, his tone light but affectionate.

Bradley nodded in agreement, still looking a bit flustered. "Yeah, we’re… we’re just figuring things out as we go."

Avery leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a satisfied look on her face. "Well, you both seem happy. That’s what matters." She paused, her tone becoming more serious again. "Just make sure you don’t screw it up, Bradley."

Bradley’s expression softened, and he nodded. "I won’t. I promise."

The conversation meandered on from there, touching on various topics—some lighthearted, some more serious. Max watched the siblings with a mixture of amusement and admiration, appreciating the bond they shared despite their differences. It was clear that Avery cared deeply for Bradley, even if she had a unique way of showing it. And it was equally clear that Bradley respected his sister, perhaps more than he had ever realized before.

After a while, Avery glanced at her watch and stood up, smoothing out her skirt. "I should get going. The company won’t run itself," she said with a smirk, looking pointedly at Bradley.

Bradley rolled his eyes but smiled fondly at his sister. "Thanks for stopping by, Avery. And for everything else."

Avery gave a small nod, her sharp demeanor softening just a bit. "Take care of yourself, Brad. And you too, Max," she added, her eyes briefly meeting Max's. There was a hint of approval in her gaze, though she didn't say anything more. 

Max nodded, giving her a polite smile. "You too, Avery."

Max and Bradley stood, Bradley moving in for a quick hug with Avery. Max watched as she whispered something in his ear, but he couldn't hear what was said. With that, Avery left, her heels clicking against the floor as she made her way out of the house. The door closed behind her, leaving Max and Bradley alone in the quiet of the living room.

Bradley let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, that went better than expected."

Max chuckled softly, stepping closer to Bradley. He could see the tension still lingering in Bradley's shoulders, the way his body seemed to carry the weight of the conversation they’d just had. Without a word, Max pulled him into his arms, holding him close.

Bradley melted into the embrace, resting his head on Max's shoulder, his arms wrapping around Max's waist. They stayed like that for a few moments, the silence between them comfortable and warm.

Then Max pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Bradley's eyes. He gave him a suggestive smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So...where were we again?"

Bradley blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. But then he saw the playful glint in Max's eyes, and he couldn’t help but smile back. "I believe we were right about here," he murmured, leaning in to close the distance between them.

Their lips met in a soft kiss, the tension from earlier melting away completely. Max’s hands slid up Bradley's back, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Bradley responded eagerly, his fingers running through Max's hair, tugging him gently closer.

Max broke the kiss first, but only to whisper against Bradley's lips, "Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable."

Bradley nodded, his breath hitching slightly. Max took his hand, leading him toward the bedroom with a shared look of anticipation and desire. The worries and challenges of the day were left behind as they focused solely on each other.

Max and Bradley stumbled back to their room together, the warmth of their hands clasped together exuding a sense of calm and comfort. Once inside the room, their lips met once more in a kiss. Bradley’s hands snaked their way around Max's waist again, Max's arms wrapping around Bradley’s shoulders and pulling him down to deepen the kiss. One of Bradley's hands moved lower on Max's body, brushing over the small of his back, just above the curve of his hips. Max shivered under his touch, the combination of warmth and intimacy making his heart race. 

As Bradley's hands slid down to Max’s thighs, lifting him slightly off the ground and pressing him against the wall, Max was momentarily stunned. Bradley had never touched him like this before. Max’s mind raced, his body caught off guard by the sudden shift in their dynamic.

But then Bradley’s lips were on his again, desperate and pleading, and Max could feel the tremble in his hands as they gripped his thighs, holding him in place. Max’s heart pounded in his chest, the heat between them scorching, and yet, it was the soft, almost desperate whine that escaped Bradley’s lips that undid him completely.

“Please,” Bradley whispered against his lips, his voice trembling with need, a vulnerability that Max had never heard before. It was as though Bradley was laying himself bare, exposing every raw nerve, every unspoken desire, and it sent a shiver down Max’s spine.

Max’s breath caught in his throat, the word lingering between them, heavy with meaning. His hands found their way to Bradley’s hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as he pulled him closer, their lips crashing together in a kiss that was fierce and unyielding. The taste of desperation, of longing, filled the space between them as Max’s legs wrapped around Bradley’s waist, holding on as if his life depended on it.

Bradley pressed him harder against the wall, his hands squeezing Max’s thighs with a possessiveness that sent waves of heat coursing through his body. Every inch of Max’s skin was on fire, his mind spinning as he lost himself in the moment, in the feeling of being completely, utterly consumed by Bradley’s touch.

The word “please” echoed in his mind, the way it had slipped from Bradley’s lips so vulnerably, so unlike anything Max had ever heard from him before. He'd heard him beg a million times, but this time was different. It was a plea, a surrender, and Max could feel the weight of it settling into his bones.

He kissed Bradley back with a fervor that matched his own, their tongues dancing together in a heated rhythm, and he felt Bradley’s grip tighten on his thighs, pulling him impossibly closer. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion and need, and for that moment, nothing else mattered.

Bradley broke the kiss first, burying his face into Max's shoulder, his breath hot against his skin.

“Bradley,” Max whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and affection. 

Bradley’s fingers dug into Max’s thighs again, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he whispered once more, “Please. I…want to be inside you.”

Max contemplated it for a moment while he held Bradley close. He had considered it before, taking Bradley, feeling him inside of him. But he'd never actually tried it, worried that Bradley wouldn't be interested, or that neither of them would like it. Max hummed at the thought. It was a ridiculous one, of course. He liked anything and everything he did with Bradley. Finally, he nodded softly, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"Okay. We can do that," Max said, his hand gently caressing Bradley's head, though his heart pounded in his chest, a nervousness settling in that he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. The anticipation, the vulnerability—it all swirled inside him, creating a knot of anxiety that tugged at his breath.

But all of that melted away the moment Bradley pulled him back in and kissed him softly. Max’s eyes fluttered closed, and he breathed in Bradley’s scent. The tension that had wound its way through Max’s muscles began to dissolve, leaving behind a warmth that spread from his chest out to the tips of his fingers.

They took their time, moving slowly as they made their way to the bed. Their touches were gentle, full of reassurance and quiet longing. Bradley’s fingers caressed Max's waist, tracing patterns that felt like promises. Max responded in kind, his hands roaming over Bradley’s back, feeling the solid warmth of his skin. Their whispered words mingled with the soft sound of their breathing and the rustling of fabric as their clothes fell to the floor.

When they finally reached the bed, Bradley was the first to fall back onto it, his hands still holding onto Max as he pulled him closer. Max followed, tentatively straddling Bradley’s lap, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Bradley’s hips. For the first time in a long time, Max wasn’t sure what to do. The uncertainty felt foreign, a reminder of how much had changed between them. He had been with Bradley before, but this—this was different. A nervous energy buzzed through him, making his hands tremble slightly as he rested them on Bradley’s shoulders. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, and for a brief second, he wondered if he could handle it. 

But then Bradley’s lips met his once more, soft and patient, and Max felt the tension in his body begin to ease. The kiss was grounding, pulling him back to the present, back to Bradley, who was holding him so carefully, so tenderly. Max took a deep breath, allowing the moment to wash over him, and the nervousness began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest.

Max was aware of every little touch, every caress of Bradley’s hands against his skin. Bradley’s fingers traced the lines of his body with a gentleness that made Max’s heart ache. The vulnerability of it all hit Max hard. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—open, raw, but also safe. Safe in Bradley’s arms, safe in the knowledge that this was something real, something that wasn’t going to shatter the moment they let go of each other. It was a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying, but Max found himself leaning into it, allowing himself to feel every emotion that bubbled up within him.

As Bradley’s hands explored his body, Max let out a shaky breath. Bradley’s fingers enveloped Max's length between them, causing Max to press his face into Bradley’s neck once more. Bradley rarely initiated contact like this, mainly because Max would always guide his hand away, trying to keep control over the situation. But in this moment, Max felt that maybe it would be fine to let go. 

Bradley’s hand began to work him, stroking up and down his cock, and Max already felt his thighs beginning to tremble. Bradley’s free hand made it's way to one of Max's thighs, squeezing it gently as he groaned. Max, in turn, let out a soft sigh. His teeth gently dragged along Bradley's neck as Bradley quickened his pace, and then he bit down when Bradley’s hand slipped, roughly pressing against the tip. Bradley stopped his motions as he moaned and tilted his head to the side, allowing Max more access to his neck. Max froze. He hadn't even fully meant to bite him; he hadn't bitten him since they'd gotten back together. He wasn't sure if it was allowed. He'd been too scared to ask. 

Bradley’s own breathing was ragged, Max realized, his head tilted to the side in such an inviting way. Max couldn't hold it back anymore, and he attacked Bradley’s neck with fervor, littering kisses and bites everywhere he could reach. His tongue ran over Bradley's skin, his teeth sinking into it and marking him up for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Bradley moaned and arched into him, both of his hands sliding up to tangle in Max's hair. When Max finally finished his assault on Bradley's neck, he pressed his lips softly against the skin, breathing him in as Bradley stroked his hair gently, his breathing coming in labored. “There you go,” Bradley said reassuringly, his hands in Max's hair not stilling. 

Max suddenly pushed Bradley back onto the bed, feeling the mattress give way beneath them as he stayed perched on Bradley's lap. There was a hesitation in his movements, a slight uncertainty that lingered in the back of his mind. As he looked down at Bradley, who lay beneath him with his hands resting firmly on Max’s hips, Max felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him. There was a part of him that wondered if he still needed that small bit of control, if it was a way of grounding himself in a situation that was so new, so different from anything they had shared before. The thought lingered, but it didn’t settle into anxiety the way it might have in the past. 

Bradley didn’t seem to mind. In fact, as Max looked into his eyes, he saw nothing but raw emotion, a deep adoration that made his breath catch in his throat. Bradley’s gaze was steady, filled with a tenderness that Max wasn’t sure he deserved, but he accepted it anyway, letting it wash over him 

Bradley’s hands tightened slightly on Max’s hips, a gentle, reassuring pressure that said, ‘ I’m here. I’m with you.’ There was no demand in his touch, no insistence on taking control. It was a silent understanding, a willingness to let Max set the pace, to let him lead in whatever way he needed. 

Max allowed his hands to slide up Bradley’s abdomen, taking in the moment in it's entirety. He was still nervous, of course, but feeling the solidity of Bradley's body beneath him helped. He glanced over at the nightstand near the spot Bradley was resting, his eyes falling on the well-used bottle of lube that was sitting there. Bradley got the hint, and Max felt his muscles flex beneath his fingers as he reached over to grab the bottle. 

Max took the bottle from him, popping open the cap. But then, he hesitated, looking down at Bradley once more. He shoved the bottle back into Bradley’s hand and turned himself around over him, so that his backside was facing Bradley. God, he didn't know what he was doing, but he was so nervous that he needed Bradley to do something, anything, to keep him from losing his mind.

Max couldn't see Bradley’s face anymore, but he heard his breathing quicken and felt his heart begin to race as Max bent down, his own eyes zoning in on their new target. “M-Max…” Bradley started as Max's hand wrapped around him, “are you sure–” 

Max interrupted him with a quick swipe of his tongue, sliding it up the length of Bradley’s cock and over the head of it roughly. He was feeling increasingly embarrassed, being all exposed to Bradley like that, and increasingly frustrated that Bradley hadn't started touching him yet. Bradley gasped and moaned, and Max could feel him hastily moving beneath him, and heard him squirting the lube into his hand.

“I…if it feels good,” Max started slowly, his fingers gliding over Bradley’s cock, “I'll make you feel good.” He leaned in and kissed over Bradley’s length, causing a shiver to run through Bradley’s spine. “If it doesn't, I'll stop.” Max finished speaking, hoping Bradley would understand and accept this. He still had trouble expressing what he wanted and needed, but this silent form of communication would help. It would help him open up to Bradley more.

“Okay.” Bradley agreed, and in an instant, Max felt a cold, lube-covered finger press firmly against his hole. He clenched his eyes shut, preparing for it, but instead of pushing it into him Bradley simply circled it around the rim. Max thought that maybe he would actually lose his mind as he let out a shaky sigh. He mouthed at Bradley’s cock, his fingers gently massaging it as he started to press back against Bradley’s finger. Bradley moaned out and Max felt the finger slowly pushing into him. He stopped his movements, not sure if it felt good or not, but then Bradley's finger curled forward and brushed a spot inside him that made him gasp and immediately take Bradley into his mouth. He moaned around him, nearly losing himself as Bradley continued to brush over that spot with intent, Max's head bobbing up and down on his cock each time he did so, feeling Bradley hit the back of his throat more than a few times. 

Max was being sloppy; there was saliva pooling at the base of Bradley’s cock, but Bradley most certainly did not mind as he continued to moan beneath Max, whose own thighs were shaking. Max felt his cock twitch as Bradley slowly pushed in a second finger. Without thinking, Max pushed back against it, hard. He took Bradley’s fingers all the way down to the knuckle, gasping and pulling off of his cock at the slight burn of it. It felt good despite the burn; hell, the burn itself felt good, and Max started sloppily licking over Bradley's cock again. Bradley, still moaning beneath him, continued to thrust his fingers in and out of Max, curling them to hit that specific spot over and over again. Max started thrusting his hips back to meet Bradley’s fingers, groaning around him and feeling the familiar pressure start to build up between his legs. 

God, he was going to cum untouched. The thought made him stop his movements. It was too soon. He didn't want to cum yet. Bradley stopped in turn, panting beneath him. “What's wrong?” Bradley asked between breaths, and Max took a moment to regain himself before responding.

“Don't wanna cum yet.” Max breathed out, pressing his head down against Bradley’s lower abdomen, trying to calm himself. Bradley groaned beneath him, as if just the thought of Max finishing from just his fingers alone was enough to send him over the edge. “You can add a third finger now,” Max said finally, as he resumed stroking up and down Bradley’s length with his hand. He felt the third finger pressing against him, covered in even more lube, and then felt it slip inside. And it did burn , but Max was so enticed by the thought that it was even in him that he let out a soft moan. Bradley moaned in turn, pressing his fingers pointedly against that spot inside of Max, and Max groaned and then hissed, “Jesus, Bradley, I said I'm trying not to cum.”

“Sorry, sorry…” Bradley said apologetically, retracting his fingers from the spot, but continuing to thrust them in and out of Max with a newfound enthusiasm. Max sighed, shaky, as Bradley’s fingers spread apart inside of him, stretching him out. 

“More lube.” Max demanded. He wasn't sure if he actually needed more lube, but it gave him some peace of mind at least, especially as he felt Bradley’s fingers pull away from him, only to slide back in with ease with even more lube covering them. The ease at which they slid into him made Max let out a groan of pure anticipation. He once again found himself pressing back against Bradley’s fingers, meeting his thrusts, sighing and groaning every so often as his fingers worked up and down Bradley’s cock.

After a few more minutes of this, Max finally spoke up, “okay, okay, that's enough…” he let out a breath as Bradley’s fingers pulled out of him. Max turned around again over Bradley, his thighs shaking already, and he looked down at Bradley’s face. Bradley had a look on his face that said he had just been to the gates of heaven and back, and Max felt his face heat up at the intensity of his stare. Max leaned in and grabbed the lube from him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before straddling his lap once more, positioning himself over Bradley’s cock. Bradley bit his lip, something pleading in his eye as Max spread some lube over Bradley's length before lining it up with his hole. Bradley’s hands were on Max's hips again, one of them slightly cold and wet from the lube, and Max watched Bradley’s eyes as he slowly pressed his hips down, feeling Bradley beginning to push up into him. 

Max's eyes fell shut and he took a few deep breaths. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, but there was still a bit of pain. Bradley definitely wasn't small , either. Max continued to lower himself onto him until he felt his ass rest comfortably against Bradley’s hips, and suddenly he understood why Bradley liked this so much. Just the feeling of being so full of him, being so close, so connected to him, it was insanity. He sat like that for a few moments before letting his eyes fall open again, looking down at Bradley, whose breathing was ragged and desperate. He was looking up at Max with that same pleading expression in his eye, and Max wanted to give in. Max rolled his hips forward, feeling him grind against his insides, pressing firmly against that spot inside him. “Fuuck, Brad…” he groaned out, his head falling back as he lifted his hips shakily before sloppily lowering them onto Bradley again. It was sloppy, because Max's legs were already weak from before, but Bradley simply held him by the hips and helped guide him down onto him. 

Max picked up a steady pace, his hips rising and falling against Bradley's as he rode him, slowly. Too slowly. Max let out the occasional groan of pleasure, as Bradley’s lips once again became the source of infinite cries and moans of pleasure, the sound playing in Max's ears like music. Bradley’s hands stilled, holding Max steady above him as he started to thrust up into him, much faster than the pace Max had been setting. Max cried out at the sudden increase of intensity, feeling Bradley pounding up into him, hitting that spot over and over. And suddenly Max was ready. He was ready to let go of all his inhibitions, ready to allow Bradley to take control, for once. 

Max grabbed Bradley’s hands on his hips, looking at him steadily, “Bradley…” he tried to force his voice to remain soft, but it came out stained. Bradley stopped his movements, looking up at Max. Max was sure that he looked a mess, or at least that he looked incredibly desperate right now. He hoped it looked good on him. 

Max pried Bradley's hands off his hips, and Bradley looked up at him with confusion as he lifted himself off of him. “Is…are you okay?” Bradley asked, concerned, but Max shut him up with a kiss. 

“Need you, baby. Need you to be a good boy and fuck me,” Max whispered the words against Bradley’s lips and pulled away, looking at Bradley’s eyes, blown wide with lust. Max flopped down beside him, face down as he helped prop up his own hips with a couple of pillows. Bradley didn't take long to get situated behind him, already gripping his hips and pushing back into him once more. And he was such a good boy, Max thought to himself as Bradley stretched him to his limit once more. This angle was different, though, allowing Bradley to push even deeper in, causing Max to choke out a moan at the sheer intensity of it. 

Bradley was already moaning again, his arms wrapping around Max's waist as he thrusted into him eagerly, his face firmly planted in the back of Max's neck. Max groaned, reaching a shaky hand behind him and placing it on the back of Bradley’s head. He turned his own head, and their lips met in a heated kiss as Bradley pounded into him from behind. Max drank in Bradley’s moans once more, his own sounds of pleasure mingling and mixing with them. He had to lay his head back down, though, as his body was screaming at him that he couldn't take much more of this. 

“Such a good boy…” Max whimpered as he pressed his face back into the mattress, feeling Bradley's lips brushing against the back of his neck. Bradley just kept going, and Max felt that familiar heat building up between his legs once more, though this time he was more than willing to let it rip through him. His cock twitched and he felt his balls tighten as it shot through him, his seed smearing against the pillows under his hips as he groaned, loudly. Bradley’s thrusts became more erratic at this, and soon Max felt something hot shooting inside of him. And dear God, it was sexy, hearing Bradley cry out in pleasure as his arms clenched around Max's torso, his cum coating Max’s walls and making him feel so remarkably full. 

For what felt like an eternity, Bradley stayed like that, his arms wrapped around Max's waist as he panted heavily, not pulling out or moving. “Hey…you okay?” Max said shakily, his arm once again reaching around to pet Bradley's hair, although the angle was difficult. Bradley nodded against him and whimpered before slowly pulling out of him. Max pushed the pillows aside, turning around under Bradley so that he could look up at him. And Bradley was looking at him like he had just given him the world. Max had never thought there was anything that he could give Bradley that he didn't already have, but in that moment, he felt like he'd done it. 

Bradley bent down and kissed him, and Max settled into him once more, relaxing as their bodies pressed against each other. Bradley lay nestled against Max's chest, between his legs, his head resting just below Max's chin. The room was filled with a gentle stillness, the kind of quiet that only comes after sharing something deeply intimate.

For a while, they simply enjoyed the quiet, the soft rise and fall of their breaths the only sound between them. Then, Max shifted slightly, his hand coming up to pet Bradley's hair softly.

Bradley looked up, his blue eyes meeting Max’s with a gentle curiosity. "What are you thinking about?" Bradley asked softly, his voice still slightly strained from their encounter.

Max's fingers gently combed through Bradley's hair, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at him. Bradley’s question hung in the air, soft and curious, but there was a warmth behind it that made Max’s heart swell.

Max chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Bradley’s ear. "I was just thinking," Max began, his voice low and affectionate, "that I wish we’d done that sooner."

Bradley’s cheeks instantly flushed a deep shade of red, his eyes widening for a moment before he buried his face into Max’s chest, trying to hide his embarrassment. Max felt the warmth of Bradley’s breath against his skin, and he couldn’t help but grin, finding the reaction both endearing and sweet.

Bradley mumbled something incoherent into Max’s chest, his voice muffled, but Max could feel the shy laughter bubbling up in him. He smiled, his curiosity piqued, and gently nudged Bradley. "What was that?" he asked, his voice a tender murmur.

Bradley hesitated for a moment before he slowly lifted his head, resting his chin on Max's chest as he looked up at him. The soft blue of his eyes was filled with a mix of shyness and something else—a kind of hope, perhaps. Bradley's cheeks were still flushed, a vulnerability in his expression as he met Max's gaze.

“We can…do it again,” Bradley said, his voice just above a whisper, almost stuttering as he spoke.

The words hit Max with a surprising force, causing his own cheeks to heat up. For a moment, he was the one who was flustered, caught off guard by Bradley’s openness. His heart skipped a beat, and he could feel the rush of emotions stirring within him. 

After the initial wave of embarrassment subsided, Max felt a bolt of excitement rush through him, electrifying every nerve in his body. The shy way Bradley had suggested it, combined with the intimate moment they’d just shared, sent his mind spinning in a whirlwind of anticipation and desire.

“Wait…really?” Max asked, his voice tinged with both disbelief and eagerness. He shifted slightly beneath Bradley, his hand still resting on Bradley’s cheek, thumb gently brushing over his skin. “You think you can go again so soon?”

Bradley’s face turned a deeper shade of red, but there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes now, a spark that made Max’s heart race even faster. He nodded slowly, his expression softening into something more confident, even as a slight smile tugged at his lips.

“I think…I could manage,” Bradley replied, his voice low and teasing, yet filled with genuine anticipation.

Max’s breath caught in his throat, his pulse quickening as he absorbed Bradley’s words. The thought of feeling him inside of him again, so soon, filled Max with excitement.

He leaned down, capturing Bradley’s lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with unspoken promises. As their lips parted, Max’s eyes searched Bradley’s face, the excitement dancing in his gaze. “What are you waiting for, then?” Max asked, his shaky legs wrapping themselves around Bradley’s hips, slowly, tentatively.

Bradley’s breath hitched, and a soft, almost desperate whine escaped his lips. “Permission,” he choked out, his voice trembling with need. His eyes met Max’s, filled with a mixture of longing and hesitation, as if he were battling with the intensity of his own emotions. He looked almost tortured, his desire palpable yet held back, waiting for Max.

Max leaned in, his lips brushing against Bradley’s ear as he whispered, “Do your worst.”

That was all the encouragement Bradley needed. They melted into each other, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization, harmony, and bliss. Each touch, each kiss, felt like a revelation. Max realized he had been holding back too much, afraid that any wrong move would break the bond between them. But now, with Bradley holding him, guiding him, Max understood that he didn’t have to be so careful. Bradley wasn’t fragile; he wasn’t going to shatter at the slightest touch.

As they moved together, Max felt a profound sense of trust settle in his heart. He could trust Bradley to be gentle when needed, or rough when the moment called for it. More than that, he could trust Bradley to be there—to hold him, to support him, to love him without reservation. Bradley wasn’t going to leave him; not again, not this time.

Chapter Text

This is just a notice that this fic is getting a rewrite! AS LONG AS this chapter remains up, the entire fic is still in its original form. Once this gets deleted, the entire rewrite will be done.

I am posting this notice because this fic is somewhat popular, and I wanted people to be able to download or save it if they wanted to before this version is gone! 

I have gotten much better at writing since I wrote this and I feel my current writing style is better for telling this story the way it should have been from the beginning. The plot itself will stay the same! Don't worry, fans of the original!

Have a good day <3