Chicken Soup for the Fanfiction Heart

Max/Tul - Predictable

A Together With Me one shot.

When my back slammed against the wall, the picture fell off its hook- the wooden frame splitting and the glass cracking down the middle. We each took a moment to look at the fallen picture; our panting punctuated the silence as we considered mourning its passing (and the money it would take to replace) and then shrugged it off. We'd worry about it later.

    I turn back to Max, a glib comment on my lips, but he steals it from me. His kiss is hard, punishing with its brute force as he presses me harder against the wall. My teeth cut against my lips but I refuse to open my mouth. When his kiss gentles and his tongue flicks out to taste my lips, I keep them shut. When the hand on my shoulder slides down my chest, plucking at my nipple before softly caressing my waist, I keep my lips shut. Even when the fist next to my head unfurls to stroke my jaw, I keep my lips shut.

    The fingers on my jaw grip my chin, tipping it up and forcing me to look at Max.

    "What?" His brows furrow as he stares at me. It is gratifying to see the tension in his arms, to notice his nipples harden through his singlet, to observe his pupils dilate and breathing quicken. Gratifying... and hot as hell. But I'm still mad at him. I glare at him but know better than to try and speak now, when he is close enough to take advantage of it.

      "P'..." his dark lashes flutter and I feel my stomach drop. What was with that mercurial mood change? Why did he go from looking frustrated, to just looking aroused? I narrow my eyes at him and push against his chest. He doesn't budge, merely smiling at my attempt to move him away from my personal space. With his fingers still tipping my chin up, his thumb traces my lips. I part them to let him in, gently sucking on his thumb until I see his eyes flutter closed. Then I bite down.

     He pulls away, shaking his hand and examining it for blood.

    "Shia P'. What was that for?"

     Now it is my turn to bully. My turn to step into his space, back him up against the closet door, and trap him with my body. When his hands settle on my hips I grab them, wrenching them over his head and pinning his wrists to the door with one hand. He let me. I know he let me- I've seen what he can press when we're in the gym and if he objected to what I was doing then there'd have been a struggle. History has shown that I can overpower him with brute strength, but Max is a wily fighter which helps even the odds. Unfortunately, since staying in the accommodation while shooting, our manager banned us from any activities that led to broken furniture. We currently have one broken picture frame... we don't need to explain a completely trashed hotel room to the staff.

      I lean against his chest, pressing the length of our bodies together. We're both hard. Fuck. I've been hard for the last hour thanks to the little shit grinning at me as he rubs his hips against my groin.

      "What were you thinking?"

     "It was a shower scene," Max's grin gets even wider. "Had to make sure every inch of you was clean."

    "Don't give me that. We're actors. You act it." The towel around my waist threatens to fall, and I pin it in place by the simple means of leaning against Max and trapping the cloth between us. "You didn't have to fondle my balls in front of the camera!"

     "No," he agrees, and I swear his eyes get even darker. "But I wanted to."

     "Just because you want to, doesn't mean you should. What were you thinking?"

     "The same thing I'm thinking now." He quirks an eyebrow at me and damn if it doesn't make my cock twitch. What is wrong with me? No... that wasn't the right question. What is wrong with my junior?