FIC: The Bed (Hollyoaks) (1/1)
Title: The Bed
Pairing: Max/OB
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This is basically a PWP that does not really fit into my other story. I hope people still comment. I know it's nothing just fantastic, but I had it in my head, I wanted to get it out.
OB hated that damn bed. Every time he had to change sheets or go look for something in Max's room, he'd stop and look at that damn bed and remember Clare, her awful stench of cheap expensive perfume, how she must've had her grimy hands all over Max, and probably the postman and random strangers she met in the bar or the street. He remembered seeing Max there like a ghost after his heart attack, when Clare wasn't giving him his medication.
This particular night was, for the time of the year, muggy and uncomfortable. Tom was at a sleepover. OB was in his boxers, back from the bathroom, when he heard Max cry out Clare's name.
He raced to Max's room, half-expecting to see the bitch standing over Max with a lead pipe. Instead, Max was alone, drenched in sweat.
"Max, are you alright? Max?"
Panting, Max tried to nod.
"Just...a dream. I...get used to it."
OB's concerns only multiplied as he realized this wasn't the first time Max had had nightmares.
"Max, you did nothing wrong when she drowned. You saved yourself. You couldn't save her. If she'd been in your place..."
OB stopped when he saw the need and the fear in Max's eyes.
"She'll never leave us alone...have to protect you and Tom..."
Soon OB sat next to Max on the bed, cool drops running down his hand as he wiped Max's forehead with a damp cloth and pulled Max's hair away from his eyes.
"Shh. Just relax, Max. See. That rhymes?"
Max rolled his eyes at the joke, but he also grinned, weakly, which was all OB wanted.
"Hey, don't worry none about protecting me. I'm here for you and Tom."
Max's head on his right knee, OB began to run the cloth down Max's shoulders. Max stared straight up at OB, looking into his best mate's eyes, serious yet groggy at the same time.
"You already saved me, OB. Didn't deserve it. I don't deserve..."
OB didn't like where this conversation was going, back to when he'd saved Max from a freezing lake Clare had left him to die in. He still harbored resentment over how many times Max had chosen Clare over him, and when Max tried to bring it up, the hurt just deepened.
"Shh."
He brushed his index finger against Max's lips, trying not to think of their softness against his skin. Max looked up at him, quiet, at peace, as OB gently rubbed his friend's temples. Soon, Max drifted off to sleep. OB managed to maneuver him onto his pillow, but as he began to go back to his own room, Max tugged at his arm. Max was curled up like the bed was going to swallow him whole. OB had slept in a bed with Max before, but that was back when the loudest noises they made were who could jump on the mattress the longest without breaking springs or falling off the bed. This was...different.
OB sighed.
"We're mates," he whispered to himself.
Staring directly at his crotch, he whispered it one last time, just to make sure.
Settling in beside Max, OB stared at his friend. His best friend. He watched Max sleep, breathing his same air, soaking in every moment before his own exhaustion overtook him.
---
This must have been a dream. Hands on his chest, running down his stomach and near the waistband of his shorts. Hot breath in his ear. A warm body pressed against his own sweltering flesh. This HAD to be a dream.
Then he felt the hand start to slide into his shorts.
Jolted into consciousness, OB could feel Max's stare boring into him. He'd forgotten how intense Max could be. That intensity had never really been trained on him.
Through the rush of emotions and sensations of Max's hands on his body and the eyes making feel dirty and desired, OB tried to convince himself he needed to say something to stop this. Max wasn't in his right mind, Max wasn't the one who ever had these feelings, Max wouldn't...
OB sat up, knowing he should leave. Knowing this would change their relationship forever.
"Max," he whispered, as he felt Max's stubble against his neck.
Max broke contact with OB's inviting form, staring at OB, almost staring through him with the strange ferality of a man who had put up with so much, been victimized by so many.
"We shouldn't do this." Half-heartedly gritted through OB's teeth, giving Max one last out.
Then Max kissed him. Leaned in and kissed him. Their lips together, an alien experience for them both. They were equally tentative, getting used to the stubble and the rough skin and the touch of another man. OB groaned as Max sucked at his tongue, conquering his mouth, their kisses deepening, sloppy, wet sounds as they made up for all the years they'd wasted. Their hard cocks pressed against each other as the two men were glued in embrace, touching, teasing, tasting.
OB couldn't shake the sense that this was the last time he would ever be able to touch Max in this way.
"I want to see you," he breathed into Max's ear. He eased Max out of his shorts, kissing his way down Max's hairy chest while sliding out of his own boxers. His hands cupped Max's backside, kneading his buttocks as Max pulled at the foreskin on OB's cock, sliding the skin up and down, his finger circling OB's sensitive glans, rubbing the precum into the head.
They knew very little about how to please other men, but had their instincts, their needs. OB knew he wouldn't last much longer, and Max's shallow breaths suggested the same thing. His fingers encircled Max's erection, while Max did the same to him. OB gasped, not wanting to say too much, not wanting to tell Max just how long he had wanted his best friend to jerk him off, not wanting to wake up from this dream.
He climbed on top of his friend, almost like rutting animals, back and forth, until OB felt the bittersweet release of his ejaculation. Max shuddered beneath him, going through his own climax as their bodies glued through semen and sweat. OB collapsed on his friend, wearily licking the salty perspiration from his neck. OB wanted another kiss. One last kiss to remember. One last look at those wild eyes before good old stolid Max returned.
OB rolled over onto his side, watching him return to an exhausted sleep. The next morning, Max would probably say this was all a mistake, or that he didn't remember anything happening. He'd go back on his hunt for the perfect mother for Tom, and OB would be the loyal best friend yet again.
OB didn't care. Not tonight. Tonight, he had not only a best friend, but a lover. A soulmate.
As Max dreamt, OB watched his chest rose and fell. He hoped Max was having more pleasant dreams now. Wishing the morning would never come, he rested his head on Max's chest.
"I love you," OB muttered, knowing Max would never hear, in his own way almost relieved.
As OB surrendered to sleep, he decided this damn bed wasn't so terrible after all.
Pairing: Max/OB
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This is basically a PWP that does not really fit into my other story. I hope people still comment. I know it's nothing just fantastic, but I had it in my head, I wanted to get it out.
OB hated that damn bed. Every time he had to change sheets or go look for something in Max's room, he'd stop and look at that damn bed and remember Clare, her awful stench of cheap expensive perfume, how she must've had her grimy hands all over Max, and probably the postman and random strangers she met in the bar or the street. He remembered seeing Max there like a ghost after his heart attack, when Clare wasn't giving him his medication.
This particular night was, for the time of the year, muggy and uncomfortable. Tom was at a sleepover. OB was in his boxers, back from the bathroom, when he heard Max cry out Clare's name.
He raced to Max's room, half-expecting to see the bitch standing over Max with a lead pipe. Instead, Max was alone, drenched in sweat.
"Max, are you alright? Max?"
Panting, Max tried to nod.
"Just...a dream. I...get used to it."
OB's concerns only multiplied as he realized this wasn't the first time Max had had nightmares.
"Max, you did nothing wrong when she drowned. You saved yourself. You couldn't save her. If she'd been in your place..."
OB stopped when he saw the need and the fear in Max's eyes.
"She'll never leave us alone...have to protect you and Tom..."
Soon OB sat next to Max on the bed, cool drops running down his hand as he wiped Max's forehead with a damp cloth and pulled Max's hair away from his eyes.
"Shh. Just relax, Max. See. That rhymes?"
Max rolled his eyes at the joke, but he also grinned, weakly, which was all OB wanted.
"Hey, don't worry none about protecting me. I'm here for you and Tom."
Max's head on his right knee, OB began to run the cloth down Max's shoulders. Max stared straight up at OB, looking into his best mate's eyes, serious yet groggy at the same time.
"You already saved me, OB. Didn't deserve it. I don't deserve..."
OB didn't like where this conversation was going, back to when he'd saved Max from a freezing lake Clare had left him to die in. He still harbored resentment over how many times Max had chosen Clare over him, and when Max tried to bring it up, the hurt just deepened.
"Shh."
He brushed his index finger against Max's lips, trying not to think of their softness against his skin. Max looked up at him, quiet, at peace, as OB gently rubbed his friend's temples. Soon, Max drifted off to sleep. OB managed to maneuver him onto his pillow, but as he began to go back to his own room, Max tugged at his arm. Max was curled up like the bed was going to swallow him whole. OB had slept in a bed with Max before, but that was back when the loudest noises they made were who could jump on the mattress the longest without breaking springs or falling off the bed. This was...different.
OB sighed.
"We're mates," he whispered to himself.
Staring directly at his crotch, he whispered it one last time, just to make sure.
Settling in beside Max, OB stared at his friend. His best friend. He watched Max sleep, breathing his same air, soaking in every moment before his own exhaustion overtook him.
---
This must have been a dream. Hands on his chest, running down his stomach and near the waistband of his shorts. Hot breath in his ear. A warm body pressed against his own sweltering flesh. This HAD to be a dream.
Then he felt the hand start to slide into his shorts.
Jolted into consciousness, OB could feel Max's stare boring into him. He'd forgotten how intense Max could be. That intensity had never really been trained on him.
Through the rush of emotions and sensations of Max's hands on his body and the eyes making feel dirty and desired, OB tried to convince himself he needed to say something to stop this. Max wasn't in his right mind, Max wasn't the one who ever had these feelings, Max wouldn't...
OB sat up, knowing he should leave. Knowing this would change their relationship forever.
"Max," he whispered, as he felt Max's stubble against his neck.
Max broke contact with OB's inviting form, staring at OB, almost staring through him with the strange ferality of a man who had put up with so much, been victimized by so many.
"We shouldn't do this." Half-heartedly gritted through OB's teeth, giving Max one last out.
Then Max kissed him. Leaned in and kissed him. Their lips together, an alien experience for them both. They were equally tentative, getting used to the stubble and the rough skin and the touch of another man. OB groaned as Max sucked at his tongue, conquering his mouth, their kisses deepening, sloppy, wet sounds as they made up for all the years they'd wasted. Their hard cocks pressed against each other as the two men were glued in embrace, touching, teasing, tasting.
OB couldn't shake the sense that this was the last time he would ever be able to touch Max in this way.
"I want to see you," he breathed into Max's ear. He eased Max out of his shorts, kissing his way down Max's hairy chest while sliding out of his own boxers. His hands cupped Max's backside, kneading his buttocks as Max pulled at the foreskin on OB's cock, sliding the skin up and down, his finger circling OB's sensitive glans, rubbing the precum into the head.
They knew very little about how to please other men, but had their instincts, their needs. OB knew he wouldn't last much longer, and Max's shallow breaths suggested the same thing. His fingers encircled Max's erection, while Max did the same to him. OB gasped, not wanting to say too much, not wanting to tell Max just how long he had wanted his best friend to jerk him off, not wanting to wake up from this dream.
He climbed on top of his friend, almost like rutting animals, back and forth, until OB felt the bittersweet release of his ejaculation. Max shuddered beneath him, going through his own climax as their bodies glued through semen and sweat. OB collapsed on his friend, wearily licking the salty perspiration from his neck. OB wanted another kiss. One last kiss to remember. One last look at those wild eyes before good old stolid Max returned.
OB rolled over onto his side, watching him return to an exhausted sleep. The next morning, Max would probably say this was all a mistake, or that he didn't remember anything happening. He'd go back on his hunt for the perfect mother for Tom, and OB would be the loyal best friend yet again.
OB didn't care. Not tonight. Tonight, he had not only a best friend, but a lover. A soulmate.
As Max dreamt, OB watched his chest rose and fell. He hoped Max was having more pleasant dreams now. Wishing the morning would never come, he rested his head on Max's chest.
"I love you," OB muttered, knowing Max would never hear, in his own way almost relieved.
As OB surrendered to sleep, he decided this damn bed wasn't so terrible after all.