Slashy skinfic.
Title: Confusion.
Author: Smem
Fandom: Skins.
Pairing: Maxxie/Chris, (implied Chris/Angie)
Rating: R, to be safe?
Summary: Takes off after the final ep. Maxxie and Chris are confused about one another.
Warnings: Slash, Spoilers, unbeta'd
Chris is warm beside him, curled up on his side, looking for all the world, like a little kid.
The duvet is pulled up tight under his chin, the orange of the cover striking against his slightly washed out skin.
Carefully Maxxie leans forwards, brushing the dark hair out of Chris' face, showing off the dark bags under his eyes that he wears so well.
Tony's still in hospital, no-one's quite sure what's going on anymore, Cassie's in Scotland, Sid and Michelle have gone to pieces, and Anwar's... Too busy with his new girlfriend, apparently.
Chris wriggles in his sleep, lets out a little moan, and it's not one of those moans either, tonight.
"Chris. Chris, are you okay?" Maxxie asks, rolling onto his side, so he's facing Chris directly. The other boy says nothing, and continues to mumble and wriggle, his incoherent words interspersed with gentle keening sounds.
The bruise under Chris' eye is nearly gone, Merve had quite a right hook on him for such a campy bloke, Maxxie thinks to himself, allowing his fingers to trace the dark edges of the mark lightly. Chris' eyelids flutter slightly, coal black eyelashes trembling in retaliation.
All of a sudden, Maxxie can see just why Angie was sleeping with his friend. He's never once considered Chris attractive.
Yet here they are, sharing Maxxie's bed, in the wee hours of the morning, waiting with the cordless phone and both of their mobiles for some news, on something - anything.
Maxxie reaches over, curls his long fingers under Chris' chin, and moves in, slowly and nervously.
Maxxie's eyes close, just as Chris' open.
Their lips brush together, and Maxxie pulls that face, the anguished, upset Maxxie face that is only seen in the direst of situations.
Chris watches unbeknown to the other boy, a wave of pity and love and just plain weirdness crashing through his body.
Making a snap descision, Chris' hands move to the small of Maxxie's back, and the blonde boy's eyes fly open in fear, very blue, and very surprised.
At first he's about to pull away, but Chris' hands shoot upwards, to the back of Maxxie's head, long fingers twisting through the fine strands of hair.
Questioning eyes are met with a slight opening of Chris' mouth, coaxing Maxxie to do the same; the other boy complying immediately.
"Max," Chris pulls back, but holds Maxxie's head in place, inches in front of him. "I... I dunno what this means, it's all a bit... You know, er... New to me?" He hopes Maxxie understands, his forehead wrinkling, concern crossing his face.
"I know, Chris," The other boy nods, after all, it's new to him too - Chris? That's a little disconcerting, in a good way. "I won't push you into anything,"
Chris smiles at him. He already knows that, after all, it's Maxxie. "A -and, you can call me a slut, or whatever else you like, like 'Chelle did, but I-"
"Shh." And Chris pushes their lips together again, all too aware of the raging hard on he's got through his red bermuda shorts. Maxxie kisses back, eyes sliding shut again, tongue darting forwards, Chris' repeating the motion. Maxxie's hands waver over the dark haired boy's hips, and Chris senses the tentative reluctance, and extrapolates his fingers from the blonde hair, before pushing Maxxie's hands firmly over his ass.
Maxxie feels Chris smile, as his hands travel back up the length of Maxxie's spine, lingering at his shoulders.
Their two bodies crash together, Chris is sweating, his hands slowly slipping beneath the waistband of the other boy's boxers, the warmth of him so welcome.
Maxxie lets out a slight squeak, then an intake of breath, as his own arousal accidentally manages to find Chris' through an entanglement of limbs.
"Wanna go all the way?" Chris asks, pulling back ever so slightly. Maxxie nods, unable to speak, tongue thick in his mouth. "Good."
Chris is grinning, and pushing the boxers down, over Maxxie's hips, and god, he's so close...
An urgent beeping, and they freeze.
"What the fuck do they want?" Maxxie asks, glancing fiercely at Chris' mobile phone currently vibrating in little circles on the nightstand, playing Vivaldi's four seasons.
He pulls away from the warmth, and picks it up.
"Hello?" He asks, sounding far hoarser than he intended.
"Chris?" It's Michelle, her voice tearful.
"Maxxie." He manages, unsure as to whether the tears are good, or bad.
"It's Tony." And the phone goes dead.
Author: Smem
Fandom: Skins.
Pairing: Maxxie/Chris, (implied Chris/Angie)
Rating: R, to be safe?
Summary: Takes off after the final ep. Maxxie and Chris are confused about one another.
Warnings: Slash, Spoilers, unbeta'd
Chris is warm beside him, curled up on his side, looking for all the world, like a little kid.
The duvet is pulled up tight under his chin, the orange of the cover striking against his slightly washed out skin.
Carefully Maxxie leans forwards, brushing the dark hair out of Chris' face, showing off the dark bags under his eyes that he wears so well.
Tony's still in hospital, no-one's quite sure what's going on anymore, Cassie's in Scotland, Sid and Michelle have gone to pieces, and Anwar's... Too busy with his new girlfriend, apparently.
Chris wriggles in his sleep, lets out a little moan, and it's not one of those moans either, tonight.
"Chris. Chris, are you okay?" Maxxie asks, rolling onto his side, so he's facing Chris directly. The other boy says nothing, and continues to mumble and wriggle, his incoherent words interspersed with gentle keening sounds.
The bruise under Chris' eye is nearly gone, Merve had quite a right hook on him for such a campy bloke, Maxxie thinks to himself, allowing his fingers to trace the dark edges of the mark lightly. Chris' eyelids flutter slightly, coal black eyelashes trembling in retaliation.
All of a sudden, Maxxie can see just why Angie was sleeping with his friend. He's never once considered Chris attractive.
Yet here they are, sharing Maxxie's bed, in the wee hours of the morning, waiting with the cordless phone and both of their mobiles for some news, on something - anything.
Maxxie reaches over, curls his long fingers under Chris' chin, and moves in, slowly and nervously.
Maxxie's eyes close, just as Chris' open.
Their lips brush together, and Maxxie pulls that face, the anguished, upset Maxxie face that is only seen in the direst of situations.
Chris watches unbeknown to the other boy, a wave of pity and love and just plain weirdness crashing through his body.
Making a snap descision, Chris' hands move to the small of Maxxie's back, and the blonde boy's eyes fly open in fear, very blue, and very surprised.
At first he's about to pull away, but Chris' hands shoot upwards, to the back of Maxxie's head, long fingers twisting through the fine strands of hair.
Questioning eyes are met with a slight opening of Chris' mouth, coaxing Maxxie to do the same; the other boy complying immediately.
"Max," Chris pulls back, but holds Maxxie's head in place, inches in front of him. "I... I dunno what this means, it's all a bit... You know, er... New to me?" He hopes Maxxie understands, his forehead wrinkling, concern crossing his face.
"I know, Chris," The other boy nods, after all, it's new to him too - Chris? That's a little disconcerting, in a good way. "I won't push you into anything,"
Chris smiles at him. He already knows that, after all, it's Maxxie. "A -and, you can call me a slut, or whatever else you like, like 'Chelle did, but I-"
"Shh." And Chris pushes their lips together again, all too aware of the raging hard on he's got through his red bermuda shorts. Maxxie kisses back, eyes sliding shut again, tongue darting forwards, Chris' repeating the motion. Maxxie's hands waver over the dark haired boy's hips, and Chris senses the tentative reluctance, and extrapolates his fingers from the blonde hair, before pushing Maxxie's hands firmly over his ass.
Maxxie feels Chris smile, as his hands travel back up the length of Maxxie's spine, lingering at his shoulders.
Their two bodies crash together, Chris is sweating, his hands slowly slipping beneath the waistband of the other boy's boxers, the warmth of him so welcome.
Maxxie lets out a slight squeak, then an intake of breath, as his own arousal accidentally manages to find Chris' through an entanglement of limbs.
"Wanna go all the way?" Chris asks, pulling back ever so slightly. Maxxie nods, unable to speak, tongue thick in his mouth. "Good."
Chris is grinning, and pushing the boxers down, over Maxxie's hips, and god, he's so close...
An urgent beeping, and they freeze.
"What the fuck do they want?" Maxxie asks, glancing fiercely at Chris' mobile phone currently vibrating in little circles on the nightstand, playing Vivaldi's four seasons.
He pulls away from the warmth, and picks it up.
"Hello?" He asks, sounding far hoarser than he intended.
"Chris?" It's Michelle, her voice tearful.
"Maxxie." He manages, unsure as to whether the tears are good, or bad.
"It's Tony." And the phone goes dead.