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Chapter Text

When Max walks back to his truck from the rest stop, sees the gangly kid loitering around it, he grits his teeth.

Before the kid can even open his mouth, Max shuts him down. "No thanks, not buying."

The kid's confused, speechless, but he doesn't get out of Max's way. After a minute his cheeks turns bright red as he realizes what Max meant. Okay, so he's not a hooker. "Just wanna hitch a ride," the kid pleads as Max moves around him to get to the door of the cab.

It's not the plea itself that stops him, it's the intensity of it. Max turns, studying him. Most noticeable are the scars. Long ones on his cheek, some on his lips. Bad ones, looks like he was filleted almost. His eyes show even more. A plea, a hope, and underneath it all plenty of fear.

The ex-cop in Max flinches.

Frowning, he can't help himself. Hand on the door handle, turning away so he doesn't have to see those desperate eyes anymore, he says, "get in."

He regrets it pretty quick. The kid is a talker. Not all the time, but when he does it's rapid-fire obnoxious and borders on nuts. He can't talk right, his language is weird and slangy. Plus he's super excitable. Constant questions, why's the dashboard curved, why's there a bed, what's he keep in the mini-fridge, what's the farthest place he's gone, where does he live, does he like driving a semi?

"What's your name?" the kid asks as night begins to fall. Max is pulling off the expressway to another rest stop, bladder urgent. "Mine's Nux."

Max gives the kid a look, eyebrow arched. "That's your name?"

Self-conscious all of a sudden, the kid's lips twist and he frowns. "Dunno. That's what dad called me so that's what I go by."

Another hint of his mysterious past. A past Max desperately wants to know nothing about.

Pulling to a stop, Max gets a look at the run-down little hut, decides he'd rather piss in the trees. "Max," he mutters as he gets out.

Relief is intense enough he has to put one hand against a tree trunk as he pisses. Too much coffee.

"I gotta go-"

Max startles, cursing. The kid's close, surprisingly close, an odd expression on his face. Embarrassed to be caught with his pants literally down, Max quickly does his fly up.

"I gotta go inside," the kid repeats.

"'M not gonna leave you," Max grunts, irritated. Who'd leave a scrawny kid like this here in the middle of nowhere? Max clambers into the truck and is glad for a moment to think without his new travel companion.

Kid looks older, probably 19 or so, but his body language presents as someone younger. Sometimes he puffs up, bravado and testosterone, but most of the time he's broken and little, shoulders slumped, back rounded. A target trying not to be.

Speaking of. Max has been dozing on and off for a while now, where the hell is the kid?

Grumbling, annoyed, he starts for the rest stop, keys dangling from his hand. Doesn't take long to find him, Max just follows the sound of an argument. The kid is visible, halfway out of the bathroom, but someone inside has a nasty grip on his arm. Nux is saying something in an angry whisper, cheeks flushed while the rest of his face is a greenish pale, frightened.

Stomping, really furious now, Max grabs the kid's other arm and gives him a good yank. In shock, the mysterious assailant lets go and Max gets a good look at some nondescript muscle-bound bastard, shaved head and Neanderthal brow.

"Time to move," Max growls, eyes on the bodybuilder. Without another word, he turns and walks away, Nux still firmly in his grip. He only lets go when they're by the truck. They have to hustle, he doesn't want Muscles to figure out that he could probably smear both Max and the kid all over the parking lot if he wanted to.

Once inside with the truck rolling slowly out, the kid is surprisingly silent. Max had expected apologies to come pouring out, given Nux's nervous nature.

"Know him?" Max finally asks, aggravated.

Nux is clearly shocked that Max knew. "Yeah... Yeah, he's a friend of my dad's." More of the kid's past that he was trying so hard to stay out of. "He was trying to get me to go back."

"You don't want to?"

"Fuck no."

Good enough. Max doesn't want to hear more, doesn't pry more. He doesn't mind giving the kid a ride, especially knowing Nux is safe with him versus with any of the other bastards out on the road. But he wants to keep it impersonal.

There's a pull-off area for semis and Max is grateful to be able to catch some sleep. His eyes are really starting to droop. Putting the truck in park, shutting it off, he points with his chin at the bed. "'M gonna sleep there. Don't care where you sleep, but don't leave the damn cab. Don't know who's out there."

Nux nods, clearly a little cowed by Max's earlier anger. Ignoring the kid, he clambers into the back and rolls onto the small mattress, not bothering to undress. He takes a minute to remove his leg brace and boots, then rolls so he's facing the wall. Probably a bad idea with a stranger in the truck with him, but he couldn't care less at this point.

It's still inky dark night when he feels the kid trying to climb into the bed with him. He's not surprised, it's the only comfortable place to sleep, but he's definitely irritated. For a minute he considers knocking the kid out and onto the floor, there's clearly not enough room for them both, but he relents finally.

They shuffle and scoot silently, Max practically crushing himself against the wall, and the kid ends up laying on his side with arms and legs dangling over the edge. Not particularly comfortable for either of them. It was a ridiculous idea but Max is so tired he drops off again without a fight.

He wakes up with the kid practically on top of him. Max is on his back, he prefers sleeping that way, and the kid is tucked up tight against him, half on him, all loose arms and legs, head buried tight in Max's neck.

Again Max considers throwing the kid to the floor, but he stops himself. The warmth, the weight, the little puffing breath on his neck, it's making him drowsy again. Max sighs, lets his body relax, and slowly drifts off back to sleep.

Chapter Text

A solid hour and Max will be home.

He steels himself, preparing to ask questions he doesn't want the answers to. More than anything, he doesn't want to know anything about Nux, but he can't stop himself. His old life, the life he left years ago, it's making him worry. He wants to make sure this scrawny chatterbox will be at least smart, if not safe.

"You got somewhere to go?"

He can't in good conscious just drop the boy off in the middle of the road, let him wander off into any kind of damned trouble. Or potentially worse, be found by his mysterious family.

Nux rouses himself from where he was drowsing, forehead against the window. It's raining, the quiet rhythm of the drops making them both sleepy. "Not really. Gonna find something, I guess. I'll figure it out. There's homeless shelters everywhere."

Lips twisting, Max can feel his pulse spike in irritation. "They can be dangerous." He stops for a moment as he makes a wide left turn, resigning himself to continuing the questions. "You don't have any other family?"

Picking up on the tension in the other man's voice, Nux sits up straighter in his seat. "An aunt, but she's on the west coast. I plan on getting out there, she hates my dad, she'll take me in. Just hitch my way out."

It's a quarter 'til nine in the evening. Max supposes he could drop his semi tractor off at the house, grab his car and drop the kid off. Seems like a plan. Have to look up where the closest one is. Give the kid a can of mace. Max decides he'll even go in with him, check it out, make sure it doesn't seem too seedy.

The rest of the ride is quiet, though Max can feel Nux watching him, studying him. It makes him anxious, his shoulders getting tight, knuckles white on the wheel.

His house is small. A little run down but overall homey. Small porch, dirty white siding, big trees all around as it butts up to the woods. Two stories. Though, with a newcomer's eyes on it, Max feels a spark of discomfort, wishes he'd taken the time to do something before he had left, at least trim the lawn. Make it look cared for.

Pulling behind the house in the grass, Max parks and gets out without waiting, unable to bring himself to look at the boy.

His cautious side, the side that survived years as a cop, warns him that bringing this strange boy inside is a terrible idea. Bringing him home was bad enough, but letting him inside is inviting a host of potential dangers.

Walking around the truck, Max takes a moment, rubs his lower back while furtively checking his pistol. Sure enough, it's still there. He'd grabbed it at the last rest stop without thinking, unwilling to examine his actions. When it comes to this kid, he keeps running on instinct and refuses to analyze it further.

Unlocking the back door, Max can hear the soft sound of Nux's well-worn boots on the steps behind him. Max ignores the sound, walks in and drops his keys on the little side table.

He works through his returning home ritual. Gathers the mail. Turns the window ac unit in the living room on. Checks the front door and all the windows, makes sure they're still locked. All the while the kid traipses behind him, thankfully silent, looking at everything with genuine curiosity, poking and moving and examining anything that catches his eye. From the corner of his eye, Max notes Nux doesn't pocket anything, puts all the dusty photos and knickknacks back.

Max heads back to the kitchen, grabs the phone book. Nux sits at the small round table, watching.

"Not a lot of food, but help yourself."

Excited, whether for food or more snooping, Nux pops up and heads to the fridge to rummage.

A lot of the shelters in the phone book are food pantries, not able to accommodate overnight guests. Thankfully the closest one is open 24 hours.

Turning, Max watches as the boy devours a package of sliced ham with his fingers. Obviously hungry. Had he eaten during the trip? Max hadn't thought to check. Damn it.

Sliced cheese this time, he stacks the plastic wrappers neatly on the counter as he works through it.

"Could make dinner," Max pipes up before he knows he's speaking. "I'm hungry."

Nux blinks, clearly shocked. "If you want to, that sounds chrome! I mean, I'm okay eating whatever, you don't have to do anything special for me. But if you're really hungry then I'll deffo eat it!"

Again the weird slang. Max wonders if it comes from his family.

He motions with his chin for the kid to get out of the way. When Nux is seated, Max takes out a skillet and a pot, grabs some ground beef from the fridge, rice from the cupboard. He doesn't know much about cooking, eats pretty plain whether he's home or in the truck.

Fascinated, Nux watches. "Usually one of dad's wives did the food, or sometimes one of my brothers. They made a lot of box stuff. It was okay. What you're making smells real good."

Oh for fuck's sake. Max pretends he didn't hear it. He definitely does not want to know about some crazy backwoods polygamist.

He scoops some of the beef and rice onto two plates and sets them down, walks away and returns with two glasses of tap water and two forks.

They both eat quickly, both going back for seconds.

Max wonders about this aunt, wonders if Nux could actually survive the trip to her, wonders how bad his family will want him back. Will they send people to look? Will they call the cops?

He stands, stretches again. His back is sore and angry. He points at the sink. "Soap, water, then put them in the drainer."

Nux is all smiles, happy to be given a task. "No worries!"

Max sits and watches, trying his hardest not to think, but he can't help it. What's he going to do with this kid? He tells himself he's too sore to drive anymore, too tired, it's late and he wants to go to bed.

When Nux starts on the pot and pan, Max finally stands, walks upstairs to the linen closet. Grabs two blankets, a pillowcase, a big sheet, and a pillow. Makes him way back downstairs to the living room.

At that point Nux is done with the washing and wanders into the room, shy all of a sudden, hands pushed deep in his pockets and shoulders up around his ears. "W-what're you doing?"

"'S not real comfortable," Max mutters as he drapes the sheet over the couch. "I'll get you a bus ticket tomorrow."

The hand in Max's hair startles him, his guts clench and he takes a step away. Nux looks shocked, a little frightened, his hand still lifted, floating in the empty air.

"I just... I'm so grateful," Nux says, his voice soft with anxiety. "I'm sorry..."

Max feels the start of a blush on the back of his neck, disturbed by the intensity of his reaction. In the truck he feels safe, it's his domain, his little haven. But elsewhere... Especially the house, after Jessie...

Max shrugs and crosses his arms. "Goodnight," is all he says.

Again he feels Nux watching him as he leaves, glad to turn the corner and be out of eyesight.

Not sure if he's glad to be home, but definitely glad to lay down in his own bed.

Chapter Text

Again Max wakes to the feel of the boy snuggling up to him. The clock on the nightstand says 1:47.

He's not surprised, half expected it, though he'd thought the couch was comfortable enough. Maybe he should have given the kid the bed. Maybe he should have never picked him up in the first place.

Nux squirms in close under the thin sheet, too close for such warm temperatures, even with two oscillating fans going. Grumbling, half asleep, Max scoots over. The bed is big enough, they don't have to squeeze in, he hopes he's making it clear without having to actually say anything. He just wants to go back to sleep.

Sitting up, the boy grabs Max's arm, waking him up with an urge to go for his pistol on the nightstand. Going still instead, he waits as Nux nestles in, head on his chest, pulling the man's arm around him.

"Can't sleep alone," Nux whispers, so quiet that Max wonders if it was even meant for his ears. "Always slept piled up with my brothers."

Explains a lot. Max grunts and turns his head away, closing his eyes, hoping for sleep. The warm hand on his bare chest, all bony fingers and paper thin skin, won't let him.

It's such an unfamiliar yet nostalgic feeling. Good but disturbing. Sets his heart to tripping a little faster.

As if in response to his speeding heartbeat, Nux's face lifts and buries against his neck, the scarred lips moving against his pulse there.

Max lets his mouth open and huffs, quietly, trying his damnedest not to pant. To not hope for more. It's wrong, so wrong, Nux is barely an adult and he came from some weird cult family and-

The hand on his chest slides down, in starts and stops, skin on sweaty skin. The fingers graze the hair on his lower stomach, play with the band of his shorts.

"Stop," Max snaps. It's too much. Not in this bed. In this house. Not right on top of where he'd been in her arms so long ago. The rush of memories makes his blood go cold.

Nux freezes, but doesn't move. His body is stiff and the breath on Max's neck is stilled as he holds it. Fear response. Like when Max had pulled away. Fear of displeasing. Fear of the repercussions.

Gently, slowly so as not to startle, he grabs the boy's hand and places it on his chest again, where it'd started. Places his own hand over it, flat and warm. Beside him, the boy calms, relaxes, breathes again, and Max finds himself responding in like. Breath slows. Heartbeat calms. Both sleep.

In the morning, the boy is still sprawled over him, sound asleep and drooling. Max frowns, annoyed. It's incredibly warm in the room, too warm, and it's already late morning.

Pushing Nux away, Max sits up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. Trying to ignore the night before, ignore what the kid did. Ignore how badly he'd wanted it for a while.

Definitely buying him a bus ticket today.

Max stands and goes to his dresser to grab some clothes, focusing on the pleasure of a nice cold shower.

"I don't wanna go," a groggy voice pipes up from under a pillow. "Like it here. Like you."

Max looks into the mirror over the dresser, looks at his own weathered tanned face. A tired, beaten face. "Too bad."

"I'll help you, I'm real good at cars and such, got a black thumb. Fix other stuff too." Nux sits up and Max quickly looks away from the mirror, realizing the boy is naked. Damn it all. "You can teach me to cook. I-..." He pauses and Max glances over, curious, notes the blush on his chest and neck and cheeks. "I'll be your wife, like my da-"

"Shut up about that." Max turns around, stares the kid dead in the face, making him avert his eyes. "You're not my wife. That's... That makes no damn sense and I had a wife anyway. Don't want another." He can't help the sharp edge in his voice, the darkness hovering at the edge. Nux senses the anger, shrinks against it. "You're getting on a bus and going to your aunt."

End of discussion.

Max limps to the bathroom, aggravated. He'd considered it. For half a second, he'd actually considered letting the kid stay. Thankfully he'd come to his senses.

When he gets out of the shower, he sees Nux hovering out in the hall, close but obviously still afraid. Max instantly regrets raising his voice.

Dried off, he pulls his jeans and shirt on before poking his head into the hall. "You can take a shower in a minute."

Nux is leaning against the wall, flinches when Max speaks but, when the words register in his brain, the pathetic look of gratitude on his face makes Max's heart die a little. He really hopes this poor kid never has to return to his family.

Chapter Text

When Max finally gets his shit together, he's got quite an armload. A big lunch full of multiple sandwiches and whatever else he could find, thrown together with some shirts, underwear, a blanket, and a towel. Bundled up in an old rucksack. A going away present. An I'm sorry you can't stay present. Plus an old leather jacket he doesn't fit into anymore. He knows it'll fit that pile of twigs.

He throws it in the backseat of his car and looks around. The kid had come out here after his shower, Max had assumed he'd be waiting for the ride to the bus station but he was gone.

Max frowns, wondering if he'd hitched a ride. But that makes no damned sense, a bus ride is a lot safer and a lot nicer than trying to not get murdered by whatever nut happens to stop for you.

Max starts to turn back to the house then halts, thinking. Or more accurately, not thinking.

Instinct calls him to the truck.

Climbing in, he peeks behind the driver's seat and sure enough the kid is curled up on the bed, as little and tight as he can make himself. Sighing, Max sits down, not looking at Nux, just sitting and waiting. Gazing out at the soft greenness beyond his window.

"I'll sleep here," the boy says, his voice small and sad. "Find my own food. Won't bother you."

Max snorts. "And when I got a job?"

"Sleep in the woods. Guard the house."

Sighing, Max opens his mouth but Nux interrupts.

"I'm frightened. I don't wanna go. You're nice and you don't hit me or cut me or... Or anything else. I feel safe here. I feel safe with you. Don't wanna go." The boy's voice catches and he draws in a wet, shuddering breath. Max winces, abruptly wants to go and gather him in his arms, soothe him. "Don't even know my aunt. Never met her. Just know she hates my dad."

Max can't speak, can't even think of what to say. What banalities he can offer to help.

They sit there for a moment.

"I'm going to make lunch," Max announces awkwardly, puncturing the silence. "Come inside when you're ready."

It's not a promise, he's not offering a new home. Hell, tomorrow he might bundle the kid up and ship him off all the same. But it can wait. For now, we just wants to eat the sandwiches in that bag.

Max is already sitting, eating, six sandwiches piled up on a plate on the table, when Nux shuffles in, quiet without his boots on, shy and mopey.

"No ham," Max says without looking at him, concentrating on his food. "Just chicken. Pretty good with mustard."

It's going to be a long damned day.

Nux immediately cleans up after they eat without any prompting, jumping at the task. Eager to prove himself. Fine then, let him help. Pull his own weight.

Max loans him a pair of shorts and a shirt, shows him the dilapidated shed. "You're gonna mow the lawn."

Nux is all grins at this news. Clearly enjoys mechanical things, engines, big or small.

"Gotta rake it first."

The boy is clearly less enthused about this news.

Is the meantime, Max sets to fixing the porch. Sweeping off the old molding leaves from the past few seasons. Hosing it off. He's almost halfway through sanding the old paint off when Nux comes up, all downcast head and glances out of the corner of his eyes.

"'M done in back." He smiles a little, proud, looks at Max for a reaction.

Max nods in approval. He doesn't need to look, trusts him to do a decent job. "Good. Start raking up here." The front lawn is huge, sprawls out a good way, you can barely see the road. It's going to take more than one day to get it ready to mow.

Dusk settles in, the sky turns violent brilliant blinding colors. Together, with minimal talking, they pack it up and head inside.

Max stands at the sink, pours glasses of water for them both and drinks without pause. He's tired, sweaty, his back and knee are pretty sore, but overall he's feeling pleased. Got some long overdue work done. Maybe having the kid around will be useful.

Nux bites on the glass, making a clinking sound. Watching Max, always watching him. It's part of his survivor's instinct, watching for signs of violence, Max knows that, but it still unsettles him.

"Shower," Max grunts, pushing away from the counter and heading upstairs. On automatic he grabs two sets of everything, knowing Nux'll need a shower and clean clothes too.

When Max steps into the shower, he's shocked out of his skin by a sweaty lanky body pressing against his. Yelping, Max turns and shoves the boy away, teeth bared, ready to fight.

This time, Nux doesn't freeze, though he still ducks his head, stoops his shoulders in submission.

"Stop fucking doing that!" Max snaps. It's like he's scaring him on purpose. For a minute he considers just decking the kid next time, but is disturbed when he realizes what he's thinking. He can't let his fear get the better of him, turn him into something he hates. "I meant separate showers."

Nux shrugs, sits on the toilet. Head still turned down, eyes averted.

"Go stand in the hallway, at least." Max sighs. The kid stands, shuffles out, looking dejected. Needy.

Only when he turns to rinse his hair does he see Nux watching him from the shadows in the hall. Max snarls, and the kid scampers away.

This is proving to be a problem.

Chapter Text

Nux behaves himself that night, too tired to get out of line.

The next day they work. The porch gets painted, the lawn gets mowed. A peaceful dinner, Max gets creative and makes something sort of curry-ish. They sit together on the back steps, watching the woods, Nux on a lower step babbling on about some strange "fixes" he has for the mower.

Max just sits, lets the words wash over him, thinking about how he's going to have to run and get some more supplies, start buying double the groceries.

A weight on his thigh brings him back to the present. Nux is leaning over, resting his head on Max's leg. He curls his hand around the calf. Blinking, Max holds perfectly still, unsure about how he feels.

The closeness of another person is starting to be comforting, no, not just another person, the closeness of this boy in particular. Warmth, a kind touch, a secret part of him craves it, a part he's tried to suppress over and over. To no avail, apparently.

He hasn't been touched in kindness in so long. He wonders if it'll make him soft. Weak. Remembers being with Jessie, remembers the happiness, the simple strength derived from joy and peace. No, not weakness. A different kind of strength, maybe.

Max rubs the kid's shaved head then lets his hand rest on it, affectionate. The arm around his calf squeezes his leg closer, clings. Max pretends he doesn't feel the wetness of tears through his jeans, honors the kid's attempt at hiding it.

The sun sets, the horizon burns then simmers.

Nux sits up, wipes his eyes harshly, then leans up and kisses Max.

The kiss is sweet but firm, and his mouth responds, lips parting slightly. But there's something important being said behind this kiss, Max struggles to understand, can't fathom it or the constant pushing for something physical.

He pulls away, leaning back, finds he can't look the boy in the eyes. Looks at the ground instead. He's not angry this time, or irritated. He wants to be. Wants to snarl and snap and drive him away. But it just won't come. "Quit it," is all he manages to think to say.

"I want it," Nux states simply. "I want you."

"You... It's too soon-"

"For me or for you?"

Max's body stiffens in shock, having it thrown in his face this baldly. "Watch it." He stands, turning to go in the house, but the boy grabs his arm hard, surprising strength in his grip.

"This is the last time," Nux says quietly, his natural exuberance bottled up. "I'm not asking again. I know you want it, feel your heart revving, tell me otherways an' I won't believe it. First time in my life I choose, don't tell me I don't know what I want. You're broken, rusted, but being with you makes me feel like it's good and safe. Like I'm good. I know about... about physical stuff, I know how to. This is the first time I've wanted to do it."

Nux stops after this tirade, Max can feel he's trembling through his hand. It took a lot for him to address the sexual nature of his past, it wrecked him a little, made him vulnerable and scared.

Out on the steps, out of the house, surrounded in dying heat and the sounds of the wilderness around them, away from the heavy weight of his memories, Max takes a clean, deep breath.

He turns, reaches up with his free hand. Nux winces a little, can't help his instinct, then eases when the hand cups his jaw, thumb sliding along the thin keloided scar there; he turns his face and kisses Max's palm reverently, thankfully, his breath shuddering with relief in his bony chest.

Max pulls the boy's face closer, leans down, and kisses him. All the loneliness and need he's ignored hit him strong, make him suck in a shaky breath through his nose as he eases Nux's lips apart with his mouth. He can't do chaste, can't do nice. The kiss is passion, it's hunger. Nux matches his kiss, moving closer, resting his hands on Max's chest.

This time, when Max pulls away, he stares into Nux's eyes, taking full measure of the boy's response. Sees no fear or hesitance, no submission, only eagerness.

When Max turns to go, he takes the kid's arm in his hand, gently pulling him along. He passes his bedroom, goes to an old guest bedroom he hasn't even looked at in years. It's not just because of Jessie. It's not because of guilt. It would feel wrong, starting this new thing in a bed full of memories, both good and bad.

This feels like a fresh start, and he wants to give it a chance.

Chapter Text

In the guest bedroom, Nux turns shy. Blushes as Max pulls his over to the bed. For all the pushing and demanding before, he's nerved up now. Licking his lips, grinning silly. He runs a hand over his head, ducks his head down.

Max finds he's liking it. He likes the sweetness of it. It's driving him a little wild.

He pulls the boy close, eager to get his hands on him, handle him. He'll try not to be rough, but his dick is getting painfully hard. He grabs Nux's face, kissing him hard, those scarred lips, the way his mouth is pliant and hot and eager. The boy licks at Max's mouth, at his full lips.

Max slides his hands under Nux's shirt, skimming over the feel of ribs and sternum; he wraps an arm around his waist and yanks him even closer, bodies flush now, while his other hand finds Nux's nipple. He loves feel of it, hard and little beneath his pinching fingers, the smooth muscle beneath his palm.

Shoving the shirt up, Max bends his head down and licks with the flat of his tongue over the nipple, now turning bright red under his attention. As he licks the soft skin around it then bites gently, Nux whimpers, hands clutching his biceps.

"Please," the boy says, but he's at a loss for anything else to say.

Max smiles against his chest, letting his stubble rub the skin raw a little. He's always liked playing hard, never been much good at romantic. "Please what?" he grumbles, he wants to hear the boy's voice. Wants to hear all sorts of dirty talk tumbling from those wet lips.

Nux whines in the back of his throat. One of Max's legs is between his and he's rubbing against his thigh, practically humping it. Max wants to reciprocate, but more than that he wants to draw it out. Make it last for an eternity.

"Please what?" Max repeats, standing up straight, cupping the boy's ass tight. Hopes he leaves handprints.

"More. Please, more." Panting, eyes rolling back, Nux looks like he's about to pass out, so Max has mercy and helps him to sit on the bed. Before he can decide what to do next, Nux has his hands on the man's jeans, hurriedly undoing his fly.

The first touch, the warm hand wrapping around his dick to pull it free, Max feels his knees weaken. His blood surges and his stomach tightens, but he wills his orgasm back. Not ready yet.

Nux tugs on him a bit before taking him into his mouth. Max watches avidly as those beautiful damaged lips slide up and down his shaft, eager.

Bending at the waist, Max thinks for a minute he's about to pass out himself. He'd forgotten how good this felt, barely taken care of himself all these years. "Good," he moans, "good."

Panting, he pulls Nux off. The boy releases him with an audible wet sound, his lips shiny with spit. Sexy. Max slides his thumb along the boy's mouth, pushing the lips, distorting them, before slipping it in. Eagerly, Nux sucks the digit as he starts jerking Max off again.

Max takes a step back and studies the flushed and panting boy. "Clothes off," he says, half command, half plea.

Sliding back to the center of the bed, Nux gets on his knees and pulls his clothes off with abandon, throwing them in a pile by the side of the bed. His shyness is receding in the wake of his own overwhelming desire.

Max stares at the slender pale body, practically glowing in the light from the hallway. Such long limbs, and the way his narrow, bony little hips form a perfect v to his dick, hard and dripping. Max has to close his eyes for a minute, focus on mastering his breathing.

"Max," the boy whines, and when Max opens his eyes again, he's treated to the sight of Nux, still kneeling, pulling on himself lazily, loose fist sliding up and down his shaft. "Please."

Pulling his own clothes off, Max smiles a little. "Lay back, baby," he says, voice roughened by need. Nux goes prone, and Max stretches out next to the kid, propping himself up on his arm, his cock pressed into his hip; Max jerks Nux off, slowly, easy pressure, watching avidly. Watches every twist and contortion of Nux's body as pleasure drives him wild.

Panting, Nux wraps his arms around Max's neck and begs. His voice spills out, rough and hot, no filter. "Please, Max, please I wanna cum, please faster, oh fuck-" His hips jerk up, he starts awkwardly fucking Max's fist.

"Go ahead," Max whispers in his ear, kissing his temple.

Nux captures the other man's mouth with his own greedy one before Max can feel his dick hardening even more, the movement of his hips becoming erratic, and then hot cum is covering his hand, Nux's belly, the bed sheets undoubtedly.

Making sure Nux is watching, Max brings his hand up, cleans the back of it with his tongue. Then he holds his hand out and the boy finishes the job, lapping eagerly.

"Baby," he groans, watching that pink little tongue slip between his fingers. The use of the endearment gives him a thrill. "Please... Your hand..."

Lean body already relaxing, a shivering mess, Nux rouses himself, reaches down with his hand and grabs Max roughly.

"Gentle." He lays all the way down, wrapping his arm around Nux's shoulders and pulling him into a fierce hug. He wants as much contact with the kid as possible. "Loose. Slow."

The boy is a quick study, obviously taking note of what makes Max gasp or his dick twitch. As Nux gets more excited, kissing Max's face with abandon, biting his neck, his hand tightens and goes faster, and Max responds.

"Fuck," he groans.

"Say it, call me 'baby,' say it for me?" Nux says against his skin, his breath hot and wet.

"Yeah," Max pants. "Yeah. It's good, baby." He presses his cheek to the top of Nux's head, every muscle in his body clenching as his orgasm looms, a swirling heat buried in his gut. "Oh..." He grabs the boy's hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. As he starts to cum, his entire body lights up with electricity, with fire and sparks, and he shouts hoarsely, incoherently.

Shaking, a sob choked back in his throat, Max clutches the boy to him, buries himself in this newly familiar smell and warmth. Without any hesitation, Nux strokes Max's hair, runs his fingers through it, sometimes rubbing his back in lazy circles.

They both fall asleep like that, sweating, sticky, but unwilling to let go.

Chapter Text

This time it's Max finding himself awake in the darkest hours of the night, restless and needy. He doesn't know what it is, if it's because he's gone so long without sex, or just the fact of the boy's proximity, but as he's dragging himself out of sleep, his dick is getting painfully hard.

Still a little muzzy, he rolls over, pinning Nux beneath the weight of his body. The boy is awake in a flash but obviously confused, eyes searching without focusing.

Max leans down and kisses the side of his face, whispers, "Need you, baby." He feels Nux's body relax as he understands who is on top of him and that he's safe. Max is leaking precum, a lot, it's almost wet between their two bodies so he presses with his hips, a slow drag down and up over Nux's own rapidly growing erection, and the boy cries out, his own hips pumping up off of the mattress.

"More," Nux pants, always so demanding, and Max is happy to oblige. Faster this time, he rocks his hips, kissing and biting the boy's neck and shoulders; it's so wet between them, it's almost embarrassing, but it feels so damned good.

Max is finding his voice, still rough from years of disuse, but full of the raw ache he feels pooling in his stomach, chest tightening. "Fuck," he pants in Nux's ear, eliciting a moan of agreement from the boy. "Fuck. Baby. So good."

He stops before he cums, wanting to try more, wanting to experiment as much as he possibly can before he finishes. And more importantly, the pleasure of arousal, the sounds Nux makes, god damn those sounds, it's too good to rush through. It's better than the orgasm.

Max has never been with a man, had a partner on the force he'd been close to, closer than he'd expected, before Jessie. A few nervous kisses, hidden from view in the locker room of the station, some drunken fumbling on dark lonely nights, but nothing like this. He's nervous, so incredibly nervous and confused but wanting so much. He doesn't even know how to articulate the need. He wants warmth, tightness, he wants motion and sound and skin. His boy's skin. Pressed tight and hot and sweaty against him.

He sits back, slides down between Nux's legs, making him whine "oh my god" in delight. Max isn't quite sure what to do beyond what he likes, it makes him nervous and excited. He kneels, takes the boy's dick in his hand, strokes it loosely to start. Before he can overthink it, start worrying, he licks the head, licks up the precum, swirls his tongue around the soft sponginess.

Nux is grabbing the bedsheets, trying hard not to move but twitching anyway.

It's gratifying to see the kind of response he's getting, makes him bolder.

He takes the boy's cock in his mouth and is startled when Nux cries out as if in pain. Max looks up at him, worried, but Nux is blissful, in rapture, head tossing back and forth on the pillow.

Max hollows his cheeks as he sucks, noisy, fast, and Nux yelps but it's too late, cum floods Max's mouth. Without dwelling on it, he swallows, finds himself eager for it. Wants to taste him. Nux whines piteously as the older man continues to suck past orgasm, draining his oversensitive cock completely.

The filthy, blushing look Nux gives him, all wanton eyes and flushed skin, biting his lip, makes Max groan. He pushes Nux onto his stomach, not quite sure what he's doing, kneads his pale ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise. Fingerprints on each cheeks, marking him. Max finds he likes the idea and bites the curve of one, sucking slightly, leaving an angry red welt. It's satisfying.

Nux lifts his hips slightly, raising that lovely little ass. Max's brows furrow, uncertain. He hesitates a minute but decides he doesn't care, leans forward and licks long and hard between the cheeks. Again Nux startles him by shrieking, face buried in the mattress. Apparently he likes it. He licks again and the boy's hips thrust uselessly. Another lick, but he pauses at his hole, teases it with the tip of his tongue, eliciting more sounds, more shivering.

It's too much, he's too hard, he's ready to orgasm without even touching his dick now. He pushes the boy flat, hand on the small of his back, presses his dick against his ass, sliding it up and down, wet and hot between their bodies with sweat and spit and precum.

"Holy shit," Max pants. "Oh fuck, baby it's so good, holy shit." He can't hold the words back as he dry humps Nux, the boy fucking the mattress in turn.

Nux's hitching breath stops, he arches his back, throwing his head back so it leans against Max's shoulder, he's gasping "ah, ah, ah" and his body's tensing as he orgasms again. Max presses his mouth to Nux's cheek, his ear, his neck, tasting him, and the heat in his body collects and he cums, grunting harshly in pleasure so intense it's almost pain.

Nux is filthy with his own cum and Max's, gets up after a minute to clean himself, but the older man gathers him up, not wanting any distance between them. Unwilling to be parted from him for even a minute. He holds him close, pressing bodily against him, reveling in the mellow happiness filling him.