Work Text:
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Basorexia.
Noun.
An overwhelming urge to kiss.
Word Count: 8500
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The sun had risen on Maxie studying for his exam, and Archie had come to the rather anticlimactic conclusion that the sun would set on Maxie studying for his exam if he doesn’t stage an intervention as boyfriend. The twenty-two-year-old seemed to forget that in order to take exams he had to be healthy enough to make it to them.
Archie had come over after work at the shipyard to assess that Maxie had been at least some degree responsible for his health today. Maxie had a tendency to neglect his routine if something disrupted it, like a test or a major paper. This meant forgetting his antidepressants, foregoing breakfast, putting off a shower, gorging on junk. And because Maxie had the medical constitution of a Dorito, Archie being that second set of eyes on him while he was in this hyper fixated study mode helped to, at the very least, make sure Maxie was hydrated and putting something with nutritional value in his stomach.
Archie had been texting the overachiever during his breaks, and, based on how Maxie had put it in their texts, food was being consumed, water was within reach, and breaks were scheduled. Since they’d been dating for four years, and this isn’t the first time he and Archie had this conversation, Archie holds some ounce of faith that this was true. Probably more in the mustard seed side of the spectrum, but it was still faith.
Archie arrived at Maxie’s apartment complex just as the sun was about to set and took the stairs two at a time to Maxie’s floor, because the elevator was broken for the third time in these first five weeks of the Spring semester. He fished out his key after waving to Maxie’s neighbor when he got to Maxie’s door and let himself in. Archie takes some time to look around, seeing if the place’s been any kind of lived in today.
The apartment was how Maxie liked things; blacks, reds, and grays complimenting the bland white that the landlord was stubborn to change. It’s as organized and clean as when Archie left the previous night. The red and black pattern rug lays directly in the center of the living room space; the various volcano and mountain paintings form patterns on the walls (something about tectonic plates); the red pillows on the gray sofa and recliner sit evenly in the corners of both pieces of furniture; the stack of science and literary journals, the rather gothic-looking candle holder, and the remotes to the television all sit in a neat little line across the glass center of the cherrywood coffee table. And, from what Archie could see, the kitchen, pristine, cream-white, and red-accented is untouched. Upon closer inspection, the only thing disturbed is the pantry, which was wide open, and there was a suspiciously empty space across the second shelf. The shelf Archie recalls Maxie’s snacks had lined.
Was he surprised? Nah. It’s merely confirmation of a pattern Archie already knew. He goes to the fridge and figures out something to make at some point during his stay here, but the more pressing issue still rests in the bedroom. Before he enters, Archie returns to the door and kicks off his boots, then follows the familiar trail to Maxie’s bedroom. He takes a look inside before entering, and…he’s right to not be surprised.
The full bed is unmade, and Maxie sits in the middle of it, glasses cloudy with fingerprints. There’s a fortress of empty Starbucks bottles and cannonballs of crumpled snack bags held within the glass walls on the nightstand, well within Maxie’s reach, telling the true story about Maxie’s meal plan today: Maxie’s hydration was overly sweet coffee, and the entirety of his snack shelf was considered “eating”. His red hair is a mess, pieces curling this way, the other way, and jutting at odd angles entirely. The shirt he nicked from Archie covers his body like a sheet, his shoulder exposed by the collar. Old love bruises dust the base of his neck, and from what Archie can tell, his thermal leggings are all he’s got on his skinny legs. Archie feels sweaty just looking at Maxie sometimes, but his boyfriend can’t help his faulty body temperature. He’s warm enough not to wear socks, by the look of things, as Archie can see the black and red stylized M on Maxie’s ankle.
Archie watches Maxie push a marshmallow into his mouth with mild amusement. Personally, Archie isn’t one for junk food. The junkiest thing he’s eaten as of late was the other end of a chocolate bar that he stole from Maxie a couple weeks ago just to make him blush. Maxie, on the other hand, subsisted of junk and other forms of empty calories by a good 60%. The other 40% belonged to actual meals, water, and medicines.
Seeing what junk he has in his proximity now, Maxie’s in the closing laps of smashing a bag of marshmallows as he murmurs numbers and equations at his laptop. The numbers buzz in Archie’s head after a mere twenty seconds of listening to him go; the piss drunk sailors at the shipyard who wander the docks at night make more sense. Archie knows numbers, and he knows how to work them, but these numbers are not his numbers.
What Archie really can’t solve is why Maxie works himself to the bone like this in the first place; he always excels and lands top scores. He even gets a subtle, shit-eating grin when it’s his grade that shattered the curve (the thing never had a chance, honestly. Its fate was a poor one). And it seems to be the case this time, as well that Maxie’s trying to jam as much information into his head as he can possibly stand in order to pass a test. This test in particular, if Archie remembers right, isn’t for another few weeks at most, however.
It seems Archie will have to muscle his way between Maxie and his notes.
So, Archie finally announces himself, “Maxie, yer eyes’re gonna fall out if ya keep starin’ at that thing.”
Archie’s blue eyes meet Maxie’s red eyes as the latter peers over the top of his computer and in turn, his glasses at Archie. Archie folds his arms and raises an eyebrow as Maxie continues to stare silently, chewing absently at that marshmallow, the lower half of which still dangles and bobs between his thin lips. Archie can tell Maxie’s not done his routine today. He’s still in his pajamas, and his medicine bottles are still cap-side up. It’s indication enough that Maxie hasn’t taken his medicine yet, as Maxie flips them upside down to assure himself that he’s taken them, and flips them cap-side up at night so he doesn’t confuse himself. Archie figures Maxie still smells like his bed, a thought which…Archie likes more than he will openly admit.
By contrast, Archie is recently showered and still smells like a fresh spring, and he’s dressed in old jeans and a muscle shirt with the sides out, the stylized A on his ribcage standing out on his dark skin in white and blue inks. His dark hair is still damp, but not by much. It’s an agreement they determined years ago when Maxie’s anxiety disorder was debilitating that Archie shower before he comes over. It’s less about how the smell of a day’s work clings to Archie after work, which Maxie adores, and it’s more about Maxie’s anxieties that illness awaits him upon contact with anything that or anyone who smells unclean. He and Maxie discussed that it’s not necessarily something Archie has to do anymore, since Maxie’s more responsible about his triggers and has become adept at talking him down from that kind of wayward thinking, so it’s merely habit for Archie by this point. Besides, washing off the day is actually quite relaxing. Archie’s into it.
What he’s currently conflicted about, however, is that Maxie is staring at him like he’s never seen Archie before in his life. Either that, or he’s trying to calculate why he’s here. Archie leans against the doorframe, impatience and bashfulness under such an intense gaze building as Maxie eyes him, unblinking, the blue light of his computer screen making his already pale skin translucent in the fading natural light. It’s kinda creepy if Archie lets himself think on it too long. How the light makes shadows where Maxie’s features are sharper and more chiseled, how Maxie’s rather large, buggy eyes tend to look less cute and more threatening at certain angles—this sleep-deprived boyfriend of Archie’s taking a break might be good for the both of them.
After what feels like a solid minute Maxie finally pulls the rest of the marshmallow into his mouth, sticks it in his cheek (blinks, thank God), and speaks, his deep voice filling the room, smooth and clear.
“You’re distracting me,” he says.
Archie snorts. “That’d be the point. Since I toldja I was comin’ over.”
Maxie flicks his gaze back to his computer screen to check the time. “It’s late.”
“It is,” Archie says, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a half smile.
“You’re probably tired,” Maxie says. “You don’t have to stay.” He rifles through the bag of marshmallows to procure another. He comes away with nothing but sugary dust on his fingers and an empty hand. He frowns, although from Archie’s perspective, it looks more like a pout.
“I’m out,” Maxie murmurs. He looks to Archie again. “Can you—”
“M’not fetchin’ ya another bag of marshmallows,” Archie says. “Or any snacks fer that matter.” Archie comes into the room and reaches across Maxie to pick up the empty marshmallow bag. He crumples it in one fist and tosses it into the fortress of empty coffee bottles on the nightstand, celebrating a little as it lands amid the other finished bags. Because Archie isn’t as pressed about messes as Maxie is, it’s a mess they can clear up later. “Have ya eaten anything green today, Maxie?” Maxie opens his mouth and flaps it shut, calculating. Before he speaks again, Archie sees the smartassery emerging and adds, “Besides apple Jolly Ranchers?”
Maxie looks at the crumpled bags on the nightstand. “Do green gummy bears count?”
Archie sets Maxie with a tired look. “Nah,” he says.
Maxie scowls dramatically and puffs, a stray lock of vibrant red floating up and falling in another odd position. His frown deepens. “Dammit.”
Archie continues his assessment. “No water besides this shit coffee, huh?”
“Perhaps,” Maxie says. Archie raises an eyebrow. “There may have been a couple glasses of clear liquid this morning.”
“Vodka ain’t water.”
“Your lack of faith is disturbing,” Maxie mutters. “It was water, in my defense.”
“S’been eight hours since this morning, Maxie,” Archie says. “It’s 7PM.”
Maxie taps at something on his computer, his thumb gone into his mouth to suck the sugar off. “Does retaining the water of my stress tears count?”
Archie sighs. “Yer bein’ a smartass.”
“Just making light.”
“Well, don’t make light o’ this: didja take yer medicine today?”
Instinctively, Maxie looks to the medicine bottles on the desk. “I have,” Maxie says, “but I forgot to flip the bottles.”
“Y’sure?”
“Did it as soon as you texted me about them,” Maxie says. “I was a little late, but not by much.”
Archie decides to believe him, since at least taking his medicine is better than nothing. Wordlessly, Archie reaches over and pushes Maxie’s hair out of his face. Maxie leans into the touch subconsciously, and Archie scratches lightly at his scalp. The relaxed state that Maxie melts into is both amusing and softening.
“Y’don’t have to work this hard, y’know,” Archie says. “Take a break.”
Maxie sighs. “If I don’t, I’ll fail,” he says.
“That’s yer anxiety talkin’,” Archie corrects. He combs his hand through to the back of Maxie’s hair, only sliding his fingers out to comb through it at another angle and brush the pad of his thumb behind Maxie’s ear. He steps closer to the bed and Maxie lays his head on Archie’s hip. “Y’know what yer therapist said. Black ‘n’ white thinkin’ makes it easier for ya to spiral.”
Maxie sinks against him. “The only thing spiraling is my head,” he says. “It’s spinning from all these numbers.”
“An’ the coffee,” Archie says. “An’ the sugar-”
“Alright, alright,” Maxie says. He goes to pull his laptop screen down to put his computer to sleep, but Archie takes his hand out of Maxie’s hair to curl around his thin wrist. Maxie stares. “No one told you to stop. Get that hand back where it belongs.”
“Yeah, but I told you t’stop,” Archie says. Maxie opens his mouth to protest, but Archie cuts him off. “Close all of it. Shut ya computer down. Yer taking a breather.”
Maxie makes an incomprehensible noise; it could only be a grumble, or a swear he didn’t want Archie to hear. Archie rubs at Maxie’s wrist bone in teasing circles. He grins as Maxie shivers.
“I can’t shut down my computer if you’re holding my arm,” Maxie murmurs, though there’s no force behind it.
“Y’got another hand,” Archie says, continuing his ministrations.
With a put-upon sigh that’s lacking in the enthusiasm department, Maxie uses his other hand to shut down his computer. Archie releases Maxie’s wrist only so he can turn and watch him close each document window and shut the thing off. As soon as the screen clamps down and the fan quiets, Archie picks up the laptop and crosses the room to set it on the desk. He turns to find Maxie slumped on his bed, sucking the sugar off his fingers, looking as tired as Archie first assumed.
He sits on the edge of the bed by Maxie’s side and lays his hand on Maxie’s middle. Archie splays his fingers across the narrow expanse, amused by just how much of Maxie he can cover with that one hand. Maxie’s stuttering breath clues Archie in that he’s noticed the same.
“Ya got any room in this belly for some real food?” Archie asks.
“Probably,” Maxie says. he lays his much bonier, yet softer hand over Archie’s, tracing up and down each finger and dancing the pads of his fingers over Archie’s knuckles. “I’m an endless void, constantly consuming all matter in sight.”
Archie smirks. “Yeah, that’s true. Ya do give good head.”
Color returns to Maxie’s face in a red flush. He swats at Archie and throws an arm over his eyes, hiding from the irrefutable truth. Cackling, Archie slides his thumb back and forth on Maxie’s stomach, relishing in how it relaxes his abdomen.
“If I’m honest, though,” Maxie says. He lays his hand over Archie’s again, brushing his thumb up and down his rougher skin. “I really don’t feel like eating anything right now.”
Archie looks to the nightstand. He doesn’t believe that for a second.
“Yer gonna get hungry eventually,” Archie says. “It’s gonna be a long break.”
Maxie takes his arm off his eyes, laying a considering gaze on Archie. “And how do you suppose I take a long break?”
Archie meets that question smoothly. “Yer gonna take a shower, eat somethin’ and then we’re taking a nap.”
Maxie snorts. “Can we take a nap first?”
“Nope,” Archie says. Maxie goes to protest, but Archie’s already getting his arms up under him and lifting him off the bed. Maxie’s yelp in surprise is very rewarding. He grabs Archie for support and does so quickly, because as soon as Archie’s upright, he’s swinging around and carrying Maxie to the bathroom.
After setting Maxie in the bathroom to get to it, Archie goes into the kitchen to fix something to eat. Maxie’s a meat lover and Archie is more vegetarian, so he cooks some chicken to go along with Maxie’s portion of the meal. Archie throws together a quick, one-pot pasta which is still cooking by the time Maxie emerges from the shower. It’s finished by the time Maxie joins him in the kitchen, wiry arms hugging him around his middle. Archie smiles as Maxie’s lips press to the crown of Archie’s head. Archie may be stockier, but Maxie is a head taller, and his weakness for tall men is coming out in full force.
They eat the pasta out of the pot to save dishes, and Archie has to scold Maxie “I Really Don’t Feel Like Eating Right Now” Stone to slow down so he doesn’t make himself sick from eating too fast or too much. Maxie may be a garbage disposal, but that doesn’t mean he should eat like one.
After eating and drinking a couple glasses of water and good sugar (aka fresh orange juice Archie made a few days ago), Archie nudges a sleepy, full Maxie into the bathroom again to brush his teeth. Archie does the same out of habit. Once back in the bedroom, Archie rolls onto the bed and positions the blankets so Maxie can burrito himself in them before snuggling to Archie’s side. Maxie lays his head over Archie’s heartbeat, and as soon as Archie’s hands go into his hair, Maxie’s sound asleep. His gentle snoring lulls Archie into that sweet spot between awareness and unconsciousness, and it takes about five minutes for Archie to follow suit.
Archie wakes up to darkness. He also wakes suspiciously alone and looks over to the left to see Maxie gone. It’s enough to jolt Archie awake; Maxie’s pulled disappearing acts on him before, mostly back when he was suicidal to go along with the crushing anxiety and subsequent depression. Archie’s found him in terrifying places, such as the dangerous edge of the apartment roof and wandering into traffic, trying to get struck by a vehicle. Maxie hasn’t done anything of the like as of late, but it’s a kneejerk response Archie can now work himself down from, as his own therapist assured him.
While calming down, reminding himself things are better now, Archie looks about the room for any signs that Maxie’s left. He sees none, but he still checks if Maxie’s around.
“Maxie?” Archie calls. His lanky boyfriend appears in the doorway in but a few seconds. Relieved to the bones, Archie sighs and flops back.
“Sorry,” Maxie says. He rejoins Archie on the bed and brushes over his heart.
“Scared the shit out of me,” Archie mutters.
“The junk fortress was getting on my nerves,” Maxie says. “Kept waking up, sensing a disturbance in the Force.”
At that, Archie puffs a laugh. “S’yer own fault, ya sith lord.”
Maxie presses his smile to Archie’s chest. “The Dark side has marshmallows and Starbucks.”
Archie laughs and Maxie chuckles in response. To get some light on them both, Archie reaches over to the nightstand light and flicks it on so they’re not in total darkness. Maxie keeps caressing him, fingers dancing over Archie’s nipple in lazy circles. Archie’s chest flutters as Maxie’s lips brush along his pulse and the stubble just under his chin.
He grins a bit as Maxie continues. “Y’starting somethin’, noodle boy?”
“Casually,” Maxie answers, and his touches get more insistent. His hand dips in the side of Archie’s shirt and brushes over his tattoo, stroking down his ribs to the fatty part of his side. He caresses lower and squeezes at Archie’s hip, and that grin against his neck as Archie leans into Maxie’s hand on reflex has Archie stuttering and blushing.
And there it is. Switch.
Archie presses his palm into Maxie’s stomach to push him onto his back. Archie plants his hand on the bed by Maxie’s side and lowers to prop himself on his elbow. Maxie’s breath hitches as Archie moves over him.
“Shameless,” Archie rumbles. “Not even five minutes into cuddle and chill, yer feeling me up like a perv.”
“A match made in perversion, considering you’re also a pervert,” Maxie says and chuckles, his gaze falling on Archie’s lips.
“Yer the one feeling me up and I’m the pervert?” Archie says with a laugh. Maxie’s smile is not slick in the least. Archie leans closer. “What’s that say about ya?”
“That you’ve trapped me in your wicked wiles,” Maxie says. He licks his lips and looks Archie in the eyes. His pupils widen with desire in the semi-dark. It only makes Archie grin wider. “And I can’t seem to escape how charming and aggravating you are, sometimes in the same breaths.”
Archie chuckles. “Am I?”
“I have some recent examples, if you need them.”
“I love ya, too,” Archie says, dipping to nudge their noses together. Maxie huffs one of his quieter laughs, and his hands caress up Archie’s shoulders to cup his neck. “If y’got a minute, I can show ya the real depths of my perversion.”
“Oh?” Maxie says. Archie can hear the smile in Maxie’s voice as his thin fingers slide into Archie’s hair. Maxie strokes and gently pulls, and Archie hums at the ministration, nudging Maxie’s nose with his own. “Unlike you, to choose to prove me right.”
“Nah,” Archie hums, tipping his chin up to brush Maxie’s lips with a chaste kiss. “I’m simply gonna give ya examples on my own terms.” He grins against Maxie’s lips and feels him shudder, feels his fingers twitch to close in his hair. Archie lays his free hand on Maxie’s hip, pressing lightly into the bone. Maxie’s breath shudders against his lips, and Maxie sucks his lips into his mouth. Archie hums, satisfied. “Ya know what I mean.”
Maxie wriggles underneath Archie and sighs out his nose. “Fortunate enough, I do,” Maxie says.
Archie chuckles; it’s a deep noise, one that has Maxie quivering again. “Only one thing left to do then,” Archie says.
“And what’s that?”
“I need somethin’ from ya. Three words, actually.”
“Are they ‘Fuck you, Archie?’”
Archie snorts. “Close,” he says. Then he takes his voice deeper, puts a slight growl to his tone. “Tell me ya want it.”
Unbidden, an intense shudder rolls through Maxie, and he’s mumbling a curse and arching into Archie’s body. Archie’s grin on the outside fills him up on the inside; he never tires of how Maxie reacts to those words.
Maxie responds shakily, “Y-You know I do-”
Archie chuckles. “I want ya to say it.” His touches stop, and his lips draw back enough that Maxie makes a grumpy noise at the loss of contact. “Tell me ya want my ass, Maxie.”
The quietest whine leaves Maxie as he struggles to comply. Archie knows it embarrasses him, but that’s what makes it so arousing. Archie almost draws away completely, but Maxie grips his head, stopping him. At this angle, Archie can see how flushed Maxie’s face is, how blown dark his eyes are; they’ve gone from vermillion red to a rich, sultry wine. Archie shivers at how Maxie’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. Such a gaze never fails to ignite Archie and hold him prisoner.
“Tell me ya want it,” Archie commands again, just above a whisper. His own heart starts to race. His own body begins to heat, and his jeans begin to tighten.
Maxie lets his lip slide free of his teeth. “Yes,” he says.
“Yes what?”
“I want it,” Maxie whispers. “I want it—” Archie doesn’t move; he’s too busy grinning and savoring Maxie’s lustful words. Maxie whimpers louder because of it and tries to pull Archie down. Archie’s face cuts into an even sharper, more predatory grin.
Archie finally leans down and purrs, “Good. Nice t’know ya can follow to directions.”
“Archie, dammit,” Maxie begs with a note of irritation, but the trembling in his voice betrays him. “I want you, come on—”
Archie shifts onto the bed so he’s straddling Maxie’s lap. “I can tell,” he hums in an assuring tone, that grin still on his face. He leans down and nips Maxie’s bottom lip, an action Maxie eagerly presses into. “Ya caved way easier than usual.”
Maxie puffs. “Call it impulsive delirium,” he says.
Archie snickers in answer, brushing his lips over Maxie’s in a chaste kiss. Maxie sighs into his mouth, and Archie kisses him again, firmer. Maxie meets him hungrily and with teeth. Archie shudders and moans himself, reaching down to push Maxie’s legs apart, and Maxie moves them as soon as Archie touches them. Amused and horny, Archie rolls his hips down, grinding his ass back on Maxie’s crotch.
“Yes, fuck—” Maxie moans.
“Yer gonna cum fer me,” Archie groans, rolling back again and down this time. And God, is it worth it. He can feel Maxie’s dick, hard and thick, stretching that fabric. Flames of want run through Archie pleasantly, his body, especially his ass tingling with that tale-tell readiness. He hums deeply, “So fuckin’ hard, Maxie. Ya need it, baby?” Archie sits back on Maxie’s cock, grinding on him. “God, I want ya inside, blowin’ my back out—”
“Fuck, Archie,” Maxie moans. Maxie’s hand curls in Archie’s hair and tugs back so he’ll look Maxie in the eyes. It stings, but it’s good, and it’s a gesture that makes Archie’s arms shake. It’s Maxie’s turn to pin Archie with a predatory gaze, one far more ferocious than Archie could ever manage. And it sets Archie on fire. Archie rolls his hips back and down, back and down, and Maxie ruts up to meet him, crushing his cock to Archie’s ass. Fuck.
Maxie’s deep voice gone so, so much deeper rumbles out of his narrow chest. “Let me take you, Archie,” he groans, pulling harder at Archie’s hair. “Wanna fuck you, spread you open, make you moan for me pretty in that way you do, just for me—”
Archie shudders and grips the bed, a blush darkening his skin. “Then take me,” Archie gasps. “Take me like ya want it.” Archie grinds down hard, and Maxie’s eyes roll shut. “Take me like ya fuckin’ mean it—”
With a sharp buck of Maxie’s hips, Archie gets the hint and rolls onto his back. It’s Maxie’s turn to grind against him, rutting his cock against the ass of Archie’s jeans. Archie bites his lip and meets those hefty rolls of Maxie’s hips, pressing down into Maxie’s rhythm. He chuckles unrepentantly as Maxie shivers and releases Archie’s hair to grip the bed for balance.
“Menace,” Maxie mutters. Archie caresses up Maxie’s thighs to his hips, a motion that makes Maxie’s breath shake out of his body every time.
Archie laughs. “C’mon, Maxie,” Archie dares. He slides his hand back over the curve of Maxie’s ass and swats hard. Maxie jolts and curses. “I want you. Fuck, I want you—”
Without a word, Maxie descends, slotting his and Archie’s lips together in a firm, heavy kiss. Archie licks into Maxie’s mouth with a pleased sigh. At that Maxie cards his fingers through Archie’s hair and grips tight, and he tilts his head to the side to kiss deeper. Archie groans and sucks eagerly at Maxie’s lips, snagging Maxie by the shirt and pulling him down so their bodies are flush together. With a pleased groan, Archie tangles his other hand in Maxie’s hair as Maxie fucks his tongue into Archie’s mouth, chasing the taste of his tongue.
He slides his hands down Maxie’s back to gather up and pull Maxie’s shirt off, but Maxie flinches as he does, backing away from the kiss with what sounds like an uncomfortable noise. Archie pauses immediately, smoothing the shirt back. It must be one of those times, then?
Sometimes Maxie didn’t like to be naked when they got to fooling around; for one, he could barely retain enough body heat on a good day, but being sickly growing up will do that to you. Also, being naked tends to bring Maxie’s self-esteem regarding his body image into the equation. As far as Archie knows, since they started working out together and Archie took executive control over (most) of Maxie’s diet, Maxie has been feeling better about it, but bad days don’t tend to stay away completely. Archie never faults him for it. Hell, he has his own issues, but the best he can do for Maxie is listen and help where he can. Archie had learned by now how to back down and give Maxie his space to assess.
“Y’okay?” Archie murmurs. Maxie takes a minute to catch his breath, then he nibbles affectionately at Archie’s lips. Archie meets the little kisses, after a few of which Archie places a hand on Maxie’s chest and pushes him back a bit. “Maxie. Answer me.”
Maxie puffs and smiles. He’s still flushed, his eyes still blown wide with lust. His hair an attractive kind of mess. “Yes, Archie,” Maxie says. “I’m fine. You tickled me, is all.”
Archie sighs, relieved, and it bubbles into a laugh. “Shirt off then?”
Maxie nods. “Mhm,” he hums, kissing Archie for even more affirmation. Maxie continues to lay kisses across Archie’s cheekbone and up to his ear, where Maxie growls, “I want your hands on me and clawing down my back as I fuck you.”
Archie chokes on an entirely horny noise, heat flooding right back into him in a dizzying rush. His blush spreads across his face even more, and he chuckles.
“Damn,” Archie grunts, “what th’fuck have I gotten into?”
Maxie backs away with a laugh. “You started this, Archie. Take responsibility.”
As soon as Maxie sits back enough for him to do so, Archie bunches up the shirt and draws it off. Archie whips it off to the side, and it falls someplace in the dark of the room. Maxie’s laugh as he takes the time to pull Archie’s shirt off fades into an appreciative, reverent moan. Archie swells with a bit of excitement and pride as Maxie appraises him, raking over his every centimeter with those lust-blown eyes. Maxie’s eyes trace how Archie’s body is wide at the shoulders and tapers at the waist from years of swim (of course it’s been a while since Archie swam competitively, and it’s nice not having to shave every inch of his body every morning); his gaze travels over how Archie’s fat distributes and where his muscles are smoothly defined—Archie knows he looks good, and Maxie’s appraisal makes him feel that much cuter.
As soon as Archie lays back on the bed, Maxie’s hands are on him, splaying out over his stomach and caressing up to his chest. Archie flinches at the cold of Maxie’s fingers at first (Archie wasn’t lying when he said his boyfriend can’t seem to hold heat), but Maxie’s palms heat quickly since, by contrast, Archie is a goddamn furnace.
Maxie’s fingers start digging into all the right places, drawing the deepest moan out of Archie. Maxie squeezes at his pecs, flicks his thumbs across the dark, stark buds of Archie’s nipples, and Archie arches up into the touch, taking Maxie’s hips and squeezing for purchase. Soon Maxie’s lips replace his fingers as he sucks at Archie’s nipples, alternating between the two, getting them wet and hot with saliva. He runs his nails through Archie’s chest hair as he does, his ministrations drawing a heavy moan out of Archie.
Archie reaches around and claps his hands to Maxie’s ass and kneads it, his broad hands covering it entirely. The moan that comes out of Maxie shakes Archie to his core. He bites and kisses his way up Archie’s chest to lay kisses on Archie’s neck. Tipping his head back, Archie melts into Maxie’s teasing licks and tender sucks, and the occasional bite that gave Archie a start in the best way. He takes a hand off Maxie’s ass and reaches down between their bodies to palm at his cock through his jeans, groping harder as Maxie takes his time getting rougher with every sound Archie makes. Maxie takes Archie’s hand and pins it to the bed above his head, lacing their fingers together, sending a wave of affection through Archie’s chest. That affection burns into horniness as Maxie then resumes grinding against his ass. Archie’s eyes roll shut for a moment, then he looks up at Maxie, who’s staring down at him intensely and eating him up with that gaze. Maxie’s tongue slides sensually over his lips, and Archie bites his own, rolling his hips down harder. And it clicks for him that his jeans are starting to get on his nerves.
“T-Take these fuckin’ things off me,” Archie says, his voice raw with arousal.
Maxie snorts. “I think the operative word is please,” he says. Archie rolls his eyes.
“Please take these fuckin’ things off me,” Archie says. Maxie chuckles, releasing Archie’s hand so he can shimmy down and get to it. “If I wasn’t so horny, I’d kick yer ass.”
“Ah, I’m doing a grand job then,” Maxie hums, grinning up at Archie as his hands find the button and zipper. “With little effort, to boot. Not that you’ve ever complained about how great of a fuck I am.”
Archie blushes as Maxie pulls the button open. “Shut it, nerd,” he snaps. “I’ll crush yer head between my thighs.”
Maxie smiles at him. “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t gladly die there,” he says. Archie fumbles for a retort and comes up empty. Maxie’s grin gets that much more shit-eating. “You have to admit, it’s a sexy way to go out.” Maxie wiggles his eyebrows as he tugs down the zip, and Archie laughs.
Archie lifts his hips as Maxie tugs his jeans down over the curve of his rear. Maxie pauses to swat Archie on his ass, never one to miss that opportunity, and Archie cusses, his hips hitching at the impact. Maxie swats him again and Archie moans this time, spreading his thighs and lifting his ass for more, only to grunt in frustration that he still had his jeans on.
“Dammit, M-Maxie, c’mon—” Archie whines.
Maxie chuckles. “Impatient,” he hums, hooking his fingers in Archie’s jeans and tugging them the rest of the way down. When Archie’s cock finally slides free, he groans in relief. And the look Maxie has as he watches Archie’s pants come down his legs puts the smuggest grin on Archie’s face. Archie stopped wearing underwear ages ago, especially if he’s coming over. Saves them a step.
Archie raises his legs to kick his jeans off, and Maxie is brought back into reality, as Archie can’t get his jeans off on his own. Maxie tugs the article down Archie’s legs and tosses them behind him. Archie hums and spreads his thighs, and he presses into Maxie’s touch when it returns to his skin, squeezing where his thighs are soft; it’s one of Archie’s weaker spots, one that makes him bite his lip and roll down into Maxie’s groping hands. Maxie kneads at him harder, murmuring praise. He scratches through the dark hair on Archie’s thighs, short scrapes of his nails that pull at the hairs and sensitize that place where Archie’s already so weak for Maxie’s touch. The incomprehensible, horny babbling that comes out of Archie whenever Maxie does that flows freely, and Maxie’s all praise.
“Look so good like this, Archie,” Maxie says with a hum. “Beautiful, baby.” Maxie changes his grip to push Archie’s legs up. Archie flinches as Maxie’s lips brush over the back of one of his knees (Archie’s so sensitive there, he can and has cum from Maxie teasing those spots alone), and shuddering curses puff out of Archie’s mouth as Maxie sucks at his inner thighs, trailing kisses and love bites down to his crotch. Archie’s cock twitches and dribbles precum, the little droplets gathering in his foreskin.
“F-Fuck, Maxie,” Archie rasps. He tremors with anticipation as Maxie nears his balls. Archie takes his hand out of the pillows and cards it through Maxie’s hair, and as soon as Archie curls his fingers in the messy strands, Maxie groans into his skin, the vibrations of that deeper-than-the-Earth’s-core voice running through Archie in a delicious wave, and he moans himself.
Maxie sucks hard at the softest spot on Archie’s thigh, the high, fatty part where crotch meets thigh, still kneading the flesh of Archie’s thighs with his hands. Archie rakes his fingers through Maxie’s hair, caressing his scalp as his ministrations turn Archie’s legs to jelly. Maxie swats Archie’s ass again, and once again Archie’s hips hitch. He shudders a moan and a curse, his thighs flex, and his hand tugs at Maxie’s hair. Maxie’s mouth slides lower, kissing at his perineum. Archie’s thighs quake, and he bucks his hips up into Maxie’s mouth for more. Instead of answering that call right away, Maxie draws back, his voice thick with arousal.
“Get the lube, Archie,” he orders, and then he dives back in to suck at Archie’s perineum and soon tease the rim of Archie’s ass with his tongue. Archie’s eyes roll shut, and he bites his fist.
“F-Fuck, Maxie, like th-that,” Archie praises. Maxie hums into him, his groping at Archie’s thighs getting greedy. Archie stretches toward the nightstand, trying to find the lube. He catches nothing, cusses and looks that way, glaring at the cleaned surface to see their lube’s nowhere in sight.
“The fuck is the—”
Maxie places a placating kiss where Archie’s ass meets his thigh. “Drawer.”
“S’never in the drawer,” Archie grumps, but he tugs the drawer open and snags the bottle out, which is right on top.
“I had priorities,” Maxie says, taking the bottle as Archie passes it to him.
“Ya didn’t want to drink it on accident,” Archie counters.
“I will neither confirm nor deny.”
“Ha!”
Maxie lowers Archie’s hips to his lap and squirts an ample amount onto his fingers. He also dribbles some onto Archie’s cock. Archie shivers at the cold, but relaxes into it when Maxie’s clean hand curls around the length and begins to take long pulls, twisting his wrist and brushing his thumb over the head after he pulls Archie’s foreskin below the tip. Archie shudders and rocks steadily into Maxie’s hand. It’s such an easy, wet glide, and Maxie lets him fuck into his hand. Archie feels Maxie’s slick fingers slide down his perineum to his asshole. It’s a few, delicious strokes before Maxie’s thumb settles at the rim, massaging it, coating it in the lube. Archie is all moans and soft curses as he melts into Maxie’s hands.
At Maxie’s instruction, Archie hooks his hands on the backs of his knees and pulls his thighs up and toward his chest. Maxie gets a better hold on him, his strokes on Archie’s cock get more insistent, and his fingers teasing Archie’s rim start working him open. Archie shudders as Maxie’s finger probes in, pumping shallowly until he’s inside Archie to the knuckle. He knows it’s Maxie’s middle finger and fuck does that turn him on. Maxie’s strokes about and curls up to press into his prostate.
“F-Fuck, Maxie—” Archie groans.
Maxie hums in response, “That’s it, Archie, yes.” Maxie rubs more insistently at the spot. Archie bucks to meet Maxie’s fingers with a ragged noise and a groan of Maxie’s name. Maxie’s strokes on Archie’s cock shift to twisting pumps at the tip, Maxie’s lube-slick palm making that slide wet and messy and so damn good. More precum dribbles out of Archie’s cock and drips onto his stomach, hot and thick. Archie’s eyes roll shut as he sobs for Maxie and digs his nails into his knees for purchase. Maxie continues to worship him with his words. “Beautiful, Archie. Gorgeous, so pretty for me—”
Archie blushes and shudders at the praise. It’s getting to him now, making his heart flutter and pleasure tremor through him in the best way. Archie shakes for it as Maxie opens him wider on his fingers, spreading him on two, and following that up with three and then a fourth. With 100% honesty Archie can attest that Maxie is incredible with his hands. Maxie works Archie like he works his equations; relentlessly, hyper-focused, and thoroughly. Archie’s a mess for him because of it every time, and even now his toes curl and his thighs quiver, and his eyes screw shut from the pure decadence of it all.
Maxie licks Archie’s balls into his mouth and sucks at them, his tongue rolling across their firmness in tight strokes. Maxie pulls at the skin with his lips and moans into them, drawing off with the wettest pops before diving back in again, and there goes Archie’s hope of forming sentences. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes to see Maxie as he does it, and fuck. His brow knit in concentration. His face and body so flushed red. His passionate, yet calculated touches. Archie feels the pleasure pulling tight in his gut. His cock twitches in Maxie’s hand, his ass clenches at Maxie’s fingers.
“M-Maxie, M-Maxie—f-fuck,” Archie’s pleas lose strength as Maxie starts thrusting relentlessly into his prostate. If Maxie’s trying to get Archie to cum before he enters him, then he’s doing an amazing job. But Archie keeps thinking about that thick cock trapped in Maxie’s pants. He’s aching for it, he realizes, to stretch him wider than Maxie’s fingers can and plow into him deep and rough. He tries to put those feelings in his next, begging whimpers. “M-Maxie, g-god, M-Maxie, please—”
Maxie finally gives Archie reprieve; however, Archie’s not sure whether he should thank him or kick him. He pushes a trembling hand through his hair as he lets his legs fall, and Maxie slides over Archie to kiss up his body and seize his lips.
Maxie is saying something, but Archie only catches the tail end of it in his haze and the addicting buzz going through his body at the consistent, wonderful stimulation he just received.
“…Condom,” is what he catches.
Archie frowns as he attempts to process, but Maxie’s kisses are sloppy and distracting, and he can taste himself on those thin lips and hot tongue.
“Condom,” Archie repeats. “Condom?”
“Yes,” Maxie says, amused. “Get one. You know where they are.”
“F-Fuck,” Archie mumbles. Maxie chuckles, lips descending on Archie’s neck. “F-Fuckin’—get yer own condom—”
Maxie bites at Archie’s neck and squeezes at his chest. “More fun to tell you to do it,” Maxie says. “It’s good to know you can follow directions.”
Archie snorts at hearing his own words used against him, leaning over to the nightstand with a shaky hand and fishing out a condom from the drawer. Maxie takes it from his hand with two fingers and kisses Archie on the cheek for complying. Archie softens immediately—those thank you kisses are his damn weakness, and Maxie knows it—and he watches with a possessive, predatory gaze as Maxie sits back on his heels and fishes his cock out of his leggings. It’s red and glistening, leaking at the tip. Maxie’s groan of relief is incredibly telling.
Archie wriggles with desire as Maxie rolls the condom on his cock with quick, practiced fingers. Once he finishes and gives himself a few pumps, Archie gets the lube and slicks his whole hand. He takes Maxie into his hand and strokes at him himself, getting that cock nice and slick. The shudder that runs through Maxie, followed by the fiery look of lust and love Maxie always gives Archie when he’s in deep is enough to get Archie close to cumming all over again. Maxie’s eyes that pin him, the way his teeth dig into his lip, how his hips roll into Archie’s fist as his tugs get more insistent. It’s fucking grand.
Maxie lays over Archie once more, the heated kiss he draws Archie into turning quickly into a deep, mouth-fucking snog. Archie shudders and kisses back eagerly, still tugging at Maxie’s cock as he inches closer to him. When his tip rubs up against Archie’s rim, they both shudder and moan into each other’s mouths. Maxie takes his cock back and presses into Archie.
“Relax for me,” Maxie murmurs, and Archie nods at the reminder. Then Maxie’s tip is slipping in. And Archie loses all control over his voice.
The slide is smooth, but patient. Maxie rolls his hips shallowly as he pushes deeper. Archie’s mind short-circuits and he grips at Maxie’s back tight, whimpering against his lips as he’s filled. The pressure, the thickness, the goodness—Archie scratches at Maxie’s shoulders, only relaxing his grip when he feels Maxie’s hips tap against his ass.
“F-Fuck,” Maxie curses against Archie’s lips.
Archie responds with a babbling moan, brushing kisses against Maxie’s lips. Next Archie’s sliding his hand into Maxie’s hair and fisting at the strands. Maxie shudders and begins rolling his hips. The thrusts start shallow, but goddamn can Archie feel each one of them. Archie keeps his legs over Maxie’s hips, rocking down into his thrusts. With each one, Maxie slides out more, fucks in harder.
Archie sings his praises. “G-Good,” he whimpers. “F-Fuck, M-Maxie, good—”
“Moan for me,” Maxie murmurs. He pulls out as far as he can without leaving Archie’s ass and grinds his hips back in, crotch clapping to Archie’s ass with each deep thrust. “Keep singing for me, Archie, yes—”
A moan shakes out of Archie at a thick vibrato. Maxie starts rolling his hips, angling them so his cock hits right where it’s fucking good, so good. Maxie alternates between thrusting into him and pressing in all the way, grinding in that slow, deep way Archie fucking loves when they’re lovemaking.
This time, though, as much as he loves it, Archie needs more. He begs for more. “Maxie, g-god, please, f-fuck m’harder, M-Maxie—” he whines. “M-Maxie, h-harder, I need—”
The growl that comes out of Maxie has Archie shuddering submissively. Maxie hooks Archie’s knees around his biceps and braces his hands on the bed—those biceps, Archie is proud to realize, are thicker than the last time Maxie took him like this, fucking damn—Maxie wastes no time throwing his hips into each thrust. Archie’s head drops back against the pillows, his moans gone to loud, shameless howls. Maxie’s hips slap against his ass with abandon, plowing into him, cock fucking Archie wide open. This is what Archie wanted. This is exactly what he wanted.
Their already dewy bodies build sweat between them. Maxie’s hot, ragged breaths puffing against Archie’s shoulder burn his skin. Archie’s hand in Maxie’s hair holds his head against his, his other hand dragging welts down Maxie’s back. It wrenches the most feral moan out of Maxie. Then Maxie’s lips press to his ear and Archie shivers. Maxie starts talking.
“God, Archie,” Maxie groans into his ear, “S-So good, tight, l-love your fuckin’ ass—” Maxie goes harder, bucking into Archie, slamming that dick in. Archie’s eyes cross and his howls turn into trembling sobs. “Sound so pretty, A-Archie, yes—”
“S-Shit—” Archie hisses, that blush spreading across his face again. His ass squeezes around Maxie, dragging him deeper. Maxie shudders a moan into his neck, and he snaps his hips against Archie’s ass.
“Squeezin’ on me, baby,” Maxie moans. “S’good, huh?”
“G-Good,” Archie moans. “F-Fuckin’ good, Maxie—”
Maxie growls. “T-Take my cock, baby, take it—” Maxie groans deep. “L-Like my cock? Like my dick fuckin’ into you like this, fuckin’ you cuz you’re mine—”
“G-God, fuck yes—” Archie trembles, gripping Maxie tighter, nails digging in harder. Archie nods in response because his voice fails him. Maxie cussing at him like this has Archie quaking.
“Take this dick—” Maxie grunts.
“M-Maxie,” Archie babbles, “S’good, f-fuck—” Archie throws his head back and moans.
Maxie responds accordingly. “Cum for me, baby,” Maxie grunts, encouraging him. “Cum for me, sing for me, baby—” Maxie angles his thrusts so he fucks powerfully into Archie’s prostate. He has Archie seeing stars, and Archie sobs his name. He’s feeling it. His belly’s tight, his body won’t stop shaking, his breath is catching in his chest and all he can say is broken syllables of Maxie’s name. God, it’s coming—he’s cumming.
What throws Archie over the edge is the teeth bared against his ear and the guttural, possessive command that growls out of Maxie. “Cum, Archie.”
With a shaking, loud groan, Archie spills his seed. It jets out of his cock in thick stripes, landing in sloppy lines across his stomach. He convulses around Maxie, writhes as his orgasm takes him in pulsating, hot waves.
“That’s it, baby,” Maxie praises him. “Good, good, good—”
Maxie’s hips never stop; he’s fucking Archie through it. Archie writhes and scrabbles at Maxie’s back as his moans go to whimpers from oversensitivity, but damn does Archie fucking love it. Maxie is only a few thrusts behind him before he slams in deep and spills into the condom, panting, shaking, rasping breaths against Archie’s throat. His thrusts start to slow. Maxie moans low and long, dragging his hips back slowly and grinding back in. Maxie rides his orgasm out, and Archie’s grip loosens and turns to brushing strokes down Maxie’s back and murmuring praise in his ear. He slides one hand up into Maxie’s hair, tugging gently at the strands. When Maxie pulls out, he flops onto Archie, melting onto him.
They take some time to catch their breath, the air stale with exertion and sweat. Maxie takes a bit longer to breathe evenly, and Archie holds him through it. It’s enough time for Archie’s ass to start feeling a dull throb, but it’s that sweet ache that comes after a good fuck. Eventually, Maxie peels off of Archie and stretches back like a cat, his bones popping. Maxie pulls a vaguely comfortable face as a result.
Archie snorts as Maxie lays over him again and nuzzles at his lips with his. “Old man.”
“Then that makes you my sugar baby,” Maxie adds. “I think I’m doing pretty well for myself.”
Archie chuckles and throws an arm over Maxie’s back, caressing up his spine and down the welts. Maxie hums happily at the touch, nuzzling at Archie’s jaw in response. Archie tips Maxie’s chin up for a slow, but deep kiss, and it’s full of caressing touches, light squeezes, and hums of appreciation and affection.
“Thank you,” Maxie says. “For coming over.”
Archie smiles. “Yeah,” Archie says. He combs his fingers into Maxie’s hair. “Someone has t’look out for yer knucklehead ass.”
Maxie hums in thought, considering Archie with a curious gaze. “If I’m a knucklehead, and you’re a knucklehead…” Maxie’s sentence falls apart into giggles, likely because of the look Archie is giving him.
Archie’s curses are muffled by Maxie’s laughter, even as Archie curls his fingers in Maxie’s hair and tugs from side to side. Archie’s curses dissolve into laughter themselves, which blossom into warm, sweet kisses, because Maxie’s smiles are contagious, on all accounts possible. And Archie finds he always has an overwhelming urge to kiss them.