PART TWELVE

Michael stood on Liz’s balcony, pacing restlessly as he waited for her to appear. She’d kissed him quickly in the alleyway when he’d let her off the bike, then whispered in his ear for him to meet her in fifteen minutes—that she’d be there as soon as she could get away from her parents.

And now, he shifted impatiently, wondering if she’d ever show up, and it flashed through his mind that Max had grown accustomed to this long ago. All the times Michael had teased him for waiting around for Liz Parker like some pathetic puppy dog, and now here he was just as eager for one more taste of her. Because Liz Parker had proved surprisingly addictive—as addictive as Max Evans had, Michael thought with a wry smile.

He settled on her lawn chair, determined to calm his restless energy, yet he found he still tapped his foot impatiently. Then he realized he wanted to hold Liz just one last time, but he was also equally anxious to get back to Max. Michael knew he’d hurt him tonight, and absolutely needlessly--no matter how confused his words had left him, Michael thought with a frown.

He’d been Max’s wife in their previous life, bound to him in mysterious ways, and as unsettled as the gender issue left him, Michael couldn’t deny that he’d felt a certain deepening in his bond with Max ever since he’d learned the truth. Even on the bike, driving Liz home, his mind had begun toying with the idea, finding forbidden satisfaction in knowing Max had been his mate, his husband…his lover now in two lifetimes.

He flushed in deep pleasure even now, because the truth was, he liked the idea. And obviously his body liked it, Michael thought with a laugh, as he felt himself harden sharply, straining within the rough fabric of his blue jeans.

So what if he’d been a woman in their past life, Michael thought, because that meant he and Max had been something so much more mystical than he’d ever dreamed until tonight.

But where does that leave Liz? A quiet voice demanded, and he felt instantly ashamed of how possessive he was feeling of Max…guilty. Because Liz had no such authenticity to lay claim to, only the hold she’d always had over Max’s heart…and now she’d begun weaving the same spell over Michael.

What did Liz mean to them both? Michael wondered. Why were they both so undeniably drawn to her in this life? He had the eerie sensation that she was more significant than was apparent on the surface, that the bonds between the three of them ran much deeper than any of them had yet guessed.

But Michael didn’t have time to contemplate his questions further before he saw a stirring in Liz’s bedroom, and then suddenly she appeared, framed within her window. She still wore her teal Crashdown uniform, as she scrambled awkwardly onto her porch. Michael stepped toward her, clasping her by the elbow as he helped her to her feet.

He drew in a sharp breath as her uniform rode high up her thigh, revealing her creamy smooth skin and gorgeous legs. Without even meaning to, he allowed his hand to graze her upper thigh as he stooped to help her through.

"Michael!" She exclaimed with a laugh.

"Geez, Liz," he snapped, stepping back from her. "I figured I’d seen and touched everything by now."

Liz smoothed out her uniform, and frowned at him in playful irritation. "Well, yeah, you have, but that doesn’t mean you can just…grope it whenever you want."

Michael threw his hands up in the air, glaring at her. "Fine, I’m outta here," he huffed, turning toward her ladder. "You know, if I’d wanted a hard time, I’d have stayed with Maria."

"Michael!" Liz cried, following him. "I was just kidding. Really."

He turned slowly to face her, and was surprised by the concern that flickered in her large, dark eyes. "You can touch me anytime you want," she added softly. "I love it when you do."

"Didn’t sound like it a minute ago," he grumbled.

"Well, I was taken a little by surprise, but I was really just teasing you. I thought you’d know that after," she hesitated a moment, blushing a bit as she dropped her eyes. "Well, after everything."

Michael pulled her roughly into his arms, all irritation passing as he kissed the top of her head. "And by everything you would mean?" He teased.

"Well," she looked up at him, and Michael was suddenly reminded of how tiny she was, as she tilted her head far back just to see him. "Perhaps the fact that you made love not only to me, but also to Max tonight…and that so far, we haven’t exactly been inhibited around one another."

"Correction," he laughed huskily. "The three of us made love tonight."

"Ah, so true," she smiled and he felt his pants bulge even more dramatically, just from her simple gaze. "So…figured you’d know I was teasing about the thigh groping."

"I could…grope something else before I go."

"My guess is you’re thinking mostly about groping something of Max’s."

Michael’s face flushed several shades of red, and he coughed loudly. Liz immediately began laughing, as she ran her hands down the length of his arms. "It’s okay, Michael."

"Well, you’re not entirely right," he said, drawing his dark brows together in a slight frown.

"No?" Liz questioned with a coy toss of her hair.

"I want to do…" He drew her face up toward his, planting a tantalizing kiss on her lips. "This to you first…"

Then his lips met hers again, and they deepened the kiss, as Michael folded his hands around the small of her back. He felt her breathing grow heavier, as she threaded her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

You’re alone with her, a soft voice teased. For the first time, you’re truly able to have her alone, no Max.

He’d only made love to her under Max’s careful gaze—had barely even kissed her outside the Crashdown this afternoon. Suddenly, she felt forbidden and terribly alluring as he guided her gently back to the lawn chair.

"Wh-what?" she murmured, as they continued their hot kisses.

"Here," he breathed, as he quickly sat on the chair, pulling her onto his lap.

God, she was so damn small, she just nestled right onto his lap perfectly, delicately. And he went mad with desire for her, as his hands began shoving her dress up, seeking more of her.

Maxwell, a quiet voice haunted him. He’s waiting and this is his Liz. What are you doing with her, he’ll be crushed?

Michael shook his head, as Liz suddenly broke the kiss, cupping his face between her palms. "Michael, you’re not betraying him," she whispered softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"Huh?" he asked, feeling somewhat dazed that she’d read his mind.

"Max," she explained softly, stroking his hair lightly. "This isn’t cheating on him, you know. We’re all three together now, he’s got to expect this…just like I know what will happen when he stays the night with you tonight."

Michael dropped his head swiftly, his face burning again at her words. He was almost ashamed of how much he wanted both of them, by how little he seemed able to control his urges after everything that had blossomed between the three of them—what had been cemented.

"I know," he mumbled quietly. "It’s just…you’ve always been his, Liz. I can’t get used to the idea that you might be mine, too."

Liz stared down at him silently for so long that finally he raised his eyes, meeting her gaze. She smiled warmly and leaned forward, pressing a slow, loving kiss against his forehead. "But I can." Her words were simple, defying argument and they warmed Michael right to the core of his being.

She could get used to the idea of being his. Liz Parker liked the idea of belonging to him.

"Really?" he asked, before he could stop himself, feeling gangly and shy all of a sudden.

"Michael," she murmured softly, drawing his mouth up to her own. "I’m already quite used to the idea of being yours."

Now his heart wasn’t just warmed, it seemed to stop right in his chest. And his face flushed such a deep crimson, he felt it burn all the way down into his neck. He drew her mouth to his hungrily, devouring her without thought, without hesitation, as all his inhibitions about Max fell away. He wanted her so badly it almost ached inside of him, as he hiked her short uniform up, until he felt her panties beneath his hands. Hungrily, he dipped his fingers low inside them, cupping her bottom where she nestled on his lap.

Her father could see, another voice warned. First Max, now fears about her father. He forged ahead, choosing to ignore all the voices, as she stood briefly, repositioning herself so that she straddled him where he sat beneath her. The uniform naturally rode up from such a position, only now he had easy access inside her silken panties.

He slipped his fingers low inside, dipping between her legs with his fingers, feeling how wet she’d already become from his touch. He groaned softly, nuzzling her ear with his mouth.

"Liz," he begged hoarsely. "Your father…"

"I know this can’t…well, finish," she moaned in his ear. "But you’ll be ready for Max, like I promised."

"What about you?"

"I’ll be ready for a shower," she laughed, starting to rock a bit against him, as his fingers began pumping into her greedily.

"I can…leave you a lot more…satisfied than that," he managed to groan, as they continued kissing in desperation.

"I-I think you…already are," Liz purred, arching back at his touch. "Oh, oh, Michael…" She threw her head back, so that her long dark hair cascaded down her back like silken magic. The expression on her face was beyond tantalizing and Michael couldn’t suppress the moan it elicited from him.

He kept thrusting his fingers into her, deeper and faster, and he felt her thighs tremble, as she tightened around him.

She buried her face against his neck, crying out into his ear as her whole body shuddered at his touch, and she panted quickly against him, finding her release.

"Oh, God," she whispered on a sigh, sounding almost as if she were complaining.

"What, Parker?" he demanded, slipping her panties back up her legs. "That wasn’t what you were after?"e;

"Guerin, just shush," she laughed in a husky voice, slowly climbing off of him.

"I’m the one still in serious need of…"

"A blow job?" she offered in a teasing voice.

"Well, yeah, that might be nice right about now."

"Max, remember?" She teased, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I promised to get you ready for him. Now you’ll storm that apartment so desperate, that Max will never know what hit him."

"And until then?" Michael complained, standing and shifting his pants uncomfortably.

"It’s a short ride," Liz offered, running a finger along the bulge in his pants playfully, rubbing a bit.

Michael groaned again, capturing her wrist, but Liz’s face suddenly lit up. "I’ve got an idea, Michael. Something you need to give Max tonight…sort of a gift from me to both of you."

"What is it?" he asked, knitting his brows together curiously.

She just tossed her hair over her shoulder, climbing back through the window into her room with an enigmatic, "You’ll see."

****

Max glanced at the clock on Michael’s VCR and shifted uncomfortably where he lay on the sofa. Michael and Liz had left almost forty-five minutes ago and it was only a five minute drive, which meant something had been happening between the two of them, and it left Max burning with jealousy. He knew it was hypocritical—he expected Liz to accept his rendezvous with Michael tonight, and that he was spending the night with him alone—yet he hardly trusted Michael on her balcony for thirty minutes.

In fact, he hardly trusted Michael with her at all—and damn, for that matter he wasn’t comfortable sharing Michael with Liz. He wanted them both so much, knew they’d all joined tonight, but he felt threatened that he was on the outside at the moment.

And really, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust them alone together, that wasn’t the issue at all--he was terrified that Michael might bolt again, might pull away permanently because of his fear of their newfound intimacy.

Terms of surrender. Michael had promised they could negotiate his terms of surrender when he returned to the apartment. His words had implied his willingness to accept all that had woven between the three of them in the past few days—his acquiescence of what now simply existed.

The three of them burned for one another, effortlessly it set their blood on fire, and stoked the alien energy between the two of them.

Max hardened at the thought, his boxers jutting out proudly in response--and right at that moment, the front door opened, Michael entering. Max shifted awkwardly on the sofa, not wanting him to glimpse his arousal, and yet there was no way to hide it.

Michael smiled at him with an unmistakably seductive gaze, as he closed the door behind him. Max crossed his legs slightly where he lay, but Michael quickly closed the distance between them, dropping to his knees in front of the sofa. His gaze instantly fell on Max’s bulging boxers, at his strong erection.

"What’s this?" he teased, reaching to lightly stroke him through the soft cotton. Max’s breath caught at the sudden touch, even as he tried to shimmy away slightly.

"What does it look like, Michael?" He asked in irritation.

"Like you’ve been waiting for me rather impatiently."

"Well you took damn long enough, didn’t you?" Max replied tartly and was even more annoyed when Michael smirked in response.

"I think you’re jealous," Michael laughed. "Because for once it was me on Liz Parker’s balcony, not you."

"Maybe I am," he conceded quietly.

That was when Max noticed Michael’s own arousal and how his blue jeans bulged prominently. Max sat up on the sofa, swinging his legs to the floor. "For that matter, what’s this?" he demanded, slipping his hand hungrily between Michael’s thighs.

"Me wanting you, what else do you think it is?"

Max opened his legs slightly, and Michael leaned in between his thighs, easing him backwards. Max’s head arched against the sofa back, as he felt Michael settle firmly between his legs, their erections brushing gently together. Max felt slightly exposed, wearing only his soft cotton boxers, where as Michael was fully clothed. And yet, he also liked the feel of Michael leaning over him, almost pinning him against the back of the sofa.

Michael threaded his fingers through Max’s hair, drawing his neck backward, so that his fluttering pulse was exposed to Michael’s lips. Michael suckled the skin there, alternating kisses and gentle nips. Michael felt Max tighten his thighs around him, drawing him in closer as he bucked up against him.

Michael’s hands were hungry for more of Max, had to have more, as they wandered low behind him. He stroked his lower back, pressing his hands down inside his boxers until he cupped Max’s bare bottom, so firm and muscled within his hands. He drew Max up against him, and the gesture was met with a muffled moan from Max, right into his ear. Max dug his hips upward, obviously needing more as Michael pushed him hard against the back of the sofa.

He liked being in control of Max, liked knowing he’d aroused him to this point of powerlessness. Max Evans who was always in charge, lost himself helplessly in Michael’s arms—every time. The thought caused a deeply satiated smile to form on Michael’s lips, as he pressed Max’s boxers lower, so that he sprang free.

Now there was only Max’s beautiful bare body right in his arms, so graceful and lean, and that was when he remembered Liz’s gift to them both.

To Max.

Michael reached inside his shirt pocket, and a crimson silk scarf spilled into his hand. Max’s eyes fluttered open at the loss of contact with Michael. "What?" He managed to murmur breathlessly, as he caught sight of the fabric.

"Present from Liz," Michael whispered and Max recognized the scarf. "No, I gave that to her," Max corrected.

"Tonight she’s giving it back."

"What?" But before Max could even ask the question, he felt the silken coolness of the fabric graze his abdomen, as Michael leaned back a bit, allowing him to touch Max’s body more freely. Max sucked in a tight breath, as Michael began trailing the cool material across his flat abdomen, and slowly tracing it upward over Max’s chest.

"Wh-what are you…" But his words were lost when Michael began slowly stroking Max’s nipples with the delicate fabric, tantalizing him to the point of madness so that he could only press his eyes shut and moan desperately. He reached for Michael, but he darted backwards.

"No, Maxwell," he urged. "Just let me do this. Just feel it for a moment."

Max opened his eyes again, as Michael stretched out the long scarf, trailing it slowly and tantalizingly, so that now he drew little circles around both Max’s nipples with it, searing his flesh with coolness. Max threw his head back, crying out Michael’s name, as Max felt the fabric snake low along his abdomen, then suddenly encircle his erection.

"M-Michael," Max begged. "Please…oh, God."

"Don’t you like this?" Michael purred and Max watched through half-opened eyes as Michael rocked back on his heels. "Want me to stop?" Michael’s voice was husky and full of promise, and it caused Max to shiver with desire.

"N-no…don’t stop, Michael."

Michael began by softly caressing the tip of Max’s erection with the silk, rubbing small circles around the flesh there, and he felt a bit of wetness form underneath the fabric. Michael burned even more at the feel of the damp cloth, knowing this was just the first of what Max would spill for him. He spread the wetness slowly over Max’s exposed flesh, using the soft scarf to elicit even more from him.

"Remind me to thank Liz," Michael murmured quietly, pressing loving kisses along Max’s chest, trailing them lower.

"Liz Parker…is-is… a genius," Max managed to stammer breathlessly. "I-I always…told…you."

"Yes," Michael agreed, suckling on Max’s nipple, as he continued to rub the scarf sensuously along the very tip of Max’s cock.

Max’s hips bucked hungrily upward at his touch, begging for more, and yet Michael wanted to take his time in pleasuring Max tonight. Slowly, he wrapped the full scarf around his arousal, slipping it back and forth, so that it rubbed a quiet rhythm against his heated skin.

"Oh, Michael," Max purred, his eyes pressed tightly closed. "Oh, please."

"Please what?" Michael asked, splaying his palms on Max’s thin, muscled thighs.

"More."

"More what, Maxwell?"

His question was met with silence, only Max’s quick panting, until slowly Max opened his eyes. "Don’t make me beg," he threatened huskily. "This was supposed to be your terms of surrender."

"I want you to surrender to me totally and completely…and then when we’re done, I’ll have surrendered to you."

"I-I don’t get it," Max stammered, his chest rising with heavy pants.

"You’re always in control, Maxwell," Michael explained, leaning in close between his legs, cupping his cheek within his palm. "I love you and I love getting you to let go."       

"You…do that to me, Michael," Max admitted quietly, dropping his eyes.

"I know," Michael purred. "And I’m already addicted to it,"

"But what about you? The fear and the…"

"No more after tonight," Michael promised swiftly, stroking Max’s cheek. "I can’t hurt you like I did earlier ever again. Or Liz…I’ll deal with me."

"Doesn’t it…scare you?" Max managed to ask, his long lashes fanning downward as his eyes drifted shut a moment. "When you made love to me earlier…it was what seemed to scare you off."

"No, Max," Michael disagreed, stroking Max’s bangs off his forehead, as he stared into his gorgeous amber eyes. "You were beautiful and amazing, and making love to you was…well, indescribable for me."

"Then what?"

"It was that we joined souls," Michael explained in a whisper. "The three of us. It scared the shit out of me. It wasn’t making love to you."

"And it wasn’t me…losing…"

"Control?" Michael offered softly, and Max nodded, his face flushing visibly. "No, Maxwell. That was gorgeous, okay?"

Max nodded again, swallowing hard and Michael kissed him slowly, cupping his face between both his hands. Finally, after a long moment of their tongues entwining hungrily, and their bodies pressing tightly together, Michael broke the kiss. "I won’t run from you again, Max. Of that you can be certain."

"Okay," Max whispered softly, threading his arms around Michael’s neck, and pulling him flush against his chest. "But we’ve got to get you out of these clothes."

Michael’s eyes narrowed and a sly grin played at the corners of his mouth. "You never finished telling me what you wanted," he asserted quietly.

Max collapsed backwards against the sofa, as he suddenly felt the silken scarf slip around his erection again, whispering a seductive rhythm against his bare skin that caused a helpless cry to escape Max’s lips.

"Tell me," Michael urged.

"I want you."

"That could mean a lot of things," Michael teased playfully, climbing more on top of Max, practically into his lap as he pressed hard between his thighs. "Be specific."

"Oh, God," Max cried again, thrusting his hips against Michael. "You know I want anything you’ll give me."

"How about this?" Michael asked softly, and suddenly slipped the scarf over Max’s eyes. Max struggled, trying to clasp Michael’s hands. "What the hell? Michael?"

"Relax, Maxwell," Michael whispered against his cheek, his voice soft and soothing. "You’ll love this, but only if you relax."

Max writhed beneath Michael, trying to break free, feeling suddenly too powerless, and more than a little anxious. "Michael, cut it out."

"Max," Michael soothed softly, stroking his cheek. "Would I ever hurt you? Apart from being a stupid asshole like earlier…could I ever possibly hurt you?"

Silence spun out between them for a moment, and Max could only hear the soft whisper of Michael’s breath, could only feel the warmth of it fan his cheek.

"No," Max managed to choke. "Never."

"Exactly," Michael promised softly, and Max felt his tension dissipate. "Let me do this for you…just feel what I’m doing. The blindfold will make it all much more vivid."

"Uh…" Max couldn’t think of a good reason not to trust Michael, especially not when a part of him had begun to feel horribly aroused and curious. "Okay."

"Just don’t be scared, Maxwell. Trust me," Michael urged gently. "And besides, look at it this way. We can try this out on Liz later."

Max felt warm laughter erupt within him, as the tension broke-- replaced only by heated expectancy. What was Michael going to do to him?

Then he felt Michael move away, as cool air breathed across Max’s bare chest and thighs. An answering heat shot straight through his groin as he felt wetness surround the tip of his cock—Michael’s hot mouth, suddenly enveloping him completely. And, oh how the sensation was magnified without the benefit of sight. There was only the heavenly feel of Michael’s tongue, curling around his tip, then drawing him fully inside his mouth, deeply into that warm cavern.

"Oh, Michael," he sighed in soft satisfaction. "Oh…yes, yes…oh." He bucked his hips, meeting Michael’s hungry devouring of him, feeling desire crash through every part of him. He wouldn’t last long, couldn’t possibly, as he felt Michael cup his sacks, rolling them gently within his palms even as Michael sucked desperately on him.

Michael opened one eye and caught sight of Max, his head thrown back with such a look of arousal on his face, that Michael thought he might be the one to lose it right then and there. That he could make Max look that way, could cause him to breath so heavily with desire, drove Michael mad with yearning—and the sight of that crimson sash around those gorgeous eyes somehow looked very erotic to Michael.

Max couldn’t believe the feel of Michael’s mouth around him, sucking and licking…devouring all that was left of him. His thighs tightened, as he fought the release that threatened to overtake his body so quickly. Max felt Michael’s hands clasp his hips, dragging him closer toward him as he possessed him utterly, causing Max’s whole body to tremble. Michael’s palm trailed along his inner thigh, working to still his shudders, yet he couldn’t stop how he shivered at such intimacy-- with such heated desire for Michael. And it only seemed to crescendo crazily all through him, culminating in thrumming alien energy that needed release more than he needed his next breath.

"Max," Michael whispered, gasping as he broke contact for a moment. "Are you…alright?"

"Y-yes," he managed to stammer, clutching Michael’s shoulders desperately. "I just can’t—God, don’t you feel the energy? Your energy, Michael?" Max cried hoarsely, as the shaking intensified.

"Maxwell, maybe," Michael began, but Max clung to his shoulders.

"No, Michael, just…keep going, okay?" He asked, more than a hint of desperation edging his voice. "I need this…you."

With that, Max felt a gentle kiss grace his inner thigh, lovely and delicate, surprising in its softness. And then he felt the warm wetness of the kiss move upward, trailing tenderly to the uppermost part of his inner thigh, until Michael’s mouth just lingered there a moment. And then suddenly, he’d taken Max’s fullness inside his mouth again, deeper and hungrier this time. Max moaned softly in reply, thrusting his hips upward, needing so much more. Michael cupped his bottom, drawing him toward him, claiming him, as Max murmured his name quietly over and over

Michael meant business, and Max’s body answered, as his groin tightened in sharp familiarity. He was so close, almost there, and he threaded his fingers desperately through Michael’s hair, grasped for his shoulders, his arms…just had to have more of him. Max couldn’t see anything, only an explosion of color and energy as he lost himself inside Michael, shuddering dramatically within his mouth.

Michael’s lips stilled, as Max grew limp within his mouth, and there was only the feel of his tongue snaking quickly over his wet skin.

Only the sound of both of their ragged breaths, punctuating the silence that surrounded them.

And then Max felt Michael lean within his legs, slipping his hands around Max’s neck as he kissed him deeply, his own salty taste still on Michael’s tongue. Max felt Michael fumbling with the scarf, loosening it, and then it fell away—and Max saw a pair of soft brown eyes staring into his own.

"Michael," Max whispered, cupping Michael’s face tenderly between his hands, even as he tried to bring his erratic breathing under control. He could feel Michael’s erection, pressing hard against his own groin, even through his jeans. "You’re amazing," Max whispered raggedly.

Michael smiled slowly in satisfaction. "I hope you liked it."

"Ah," Max breathed, stroking Michael’s cheek slowly. "You know better than that. You saw what you did to me."

"So, the blindfold…" Michael lifted his eyebrow in question.

"Loved that, too," Max grinned sheepishly. "Shouldn’t have fought you about it."

Max began unbuttoning Michael’s shirt, easing it out of his pants, as he leaned forward on the sofa. In a quick movement, he tumbled Michael backward onto the floor, pinning him there.

"Oh, God," Michael cried with a hoarse laugh, as he landed on the floor with a light thud. But there’d been no stopping Max, he’d known what he wanted and pursued it without interference.

And now Michael found himself the possessed, as Max quickly undressed him, first his shirt so that their bare chests pressed together, skin to skin. Max planted both forearms on either side of his head, framing it that way, so that Michael could only stare up at him.

"What about your terms of surrender?" Max asked huskily, his amber eyes dancing.

"Is that what this is about?" Michael demanded, as Max raised up a moment, adjusting his hips so that pure heat forged between their intimate areas.

"I surrendered…now it’s your turn."

Michael dragged Max’s lips down to his, suddenly aware that they had the entire night, just the two of them. No interruptions, no sharing…just Max in his arms like this. He sighed softly at the thought, deepening their warm kiss, and their tongues began a strong, erotic dance, each wrestling for dominance. Michael drew in a sharp breath as Max began slowly thrusting his hips down against his own--especially because unlike Max, he still needed release.

"Maxwell," Michael groaned. "Ohh." He’d meant it as a complaint, but what Max was doing to his body felt far too heavenly. Especially as he felt Max awkwardly open his button fly, then tug firmly on his zipper.

"You’re not really complaining, are you Michael?" Max teased, as he opened up Michael’s jeans, reaching inside with a gesture that caused Michael’s heart to hammer at the speed of lightning. Just that quickly, Max had slipped a hand within his boxers, clasping his hard cock firmly in his palm. "Because I can always stop."

Michael didn’t answer, only captured Max in a devouring kiss, as Max shoved Michael’s pants and boxers lower down his thighs. Michael rolled Max onto his back before he could stop him, and now Michael had him pinned to the floor, as Max kept working Michael’s pants off. Michael kicked them off, and their bare bodies made full contact, eliciting soft cries from both of them.

"Ah, yes," Max murmured in his ear, as Michael settled his erection between Max’s legs, slowly rocking his hips against his lover’s. Max was already coming alive again beneath him, despite the release he’d just found.

"You know what I want, don’t you?" Michael asked huskily, stroking Max’s hair softly off of his forehead as he gazed down into his eyes.

Max swallowed hard, slipping his arms around Michael’s neck, as his cock hardened again—it seemed Michael could re-ignite his passion just that quickly. Michael shifted slightly, so that their erections brushed firmly together, and Max smiled as he gasped at the contact.

"Don’t you?" Michael pressed when Max didn’t answer.

Max traced his thumb along Michael’s lower lip, just gazing up at him as the silence spun between them, punctuated only by their heavy breathing. "I think so," Max finally answered in a hushed voice. "And I want it, too."

Michael groaned loudly, burying his face against Max’s neck. "Then please, Max," he whispered. "Just let me make love to you."

Michael heard Max laugh gently, as he held him tight against his chest. "All you had to do was ask," he breathed.

"Why?" Michael demanded, staring down at him.

"Because I’m ready for you to surrender."

****

Max settled back into the familiar spot in Michael’s bed, as Michael lay facing him on his side. Their eyes never broke contact, as Max suddenly felt a chilling, slick liquid coat between his legs. Out of the corner of his eyes, Max saw the small tube of lubricant, as Michael poured more into his palm, continuing to coat Max slowly and lovingly, slipping his fingers further back. He spread a generous amount of the cool gel along Max’s opening, as he pressed tender kisses against his forehead. Max had the decided feeling that Michael was protecting him, wanting to ensure that his experience was all that it should be—he was that attentive in lathering the lubricant across his intimate parts.

Max reached for Michael’s hand, whispering, "Let me now." Michael pressed the small tube into Max’s palm and Max enjoyed coating Michael slowly and thoroughly, until he was completely slippery. Then, Max tossed the tube onto the covers as Michael pushed Max onto his back, lowering himself carefully between his legs. Michael’s gentle brown eyes had darkened considerably with desire, as suddenly his slick cock pressed hard between Max’s legs. Max couldn’t deny that his heart had begun beating quickly, almost with fear. He’d been scared earlier, but Liz’s presence had eased that—now he felt he was embarking on something even deeper and more sacred, since it was only the two of them.

And it nearly terrified him, to the point that his breathing had grown crazily erratic. Your breathing is so heavy because you want him that much, a soft voice taunted. Not from fear. You’re mad with need for him.

Suddenly, Michael stilled, lifting up off of Max. "Maxwell, turn over," he breathed.

"What?" Max cried, feeling his heart hammer even more rapidly.

"Just turn away from me…and kneel a bit."

Max could only stare in disbelief, as somehow what Michael was suggesting seemed much more dangerous and erotic than what they’d done before. Yet he found himself complying, rolling over onto his stomach, then easing up onto his knees. Michael quickly clasped him from behind, slipping his hands low around his abdomen, as he kissed him slowly along the nape of his neck.

"This is what I wanted in the shower earlier," Michael sighed against his neck. "Just like this."

Max shivered at his words, at the warmth of his breath—at where he was being lead by his lover.

"Hold onto the headboard, Max," Michael suggested softly. "And I’ll hold onto you."

Max could only nod mutely, as he leaned forward a bit on his knees, crouching now, and suddenly Michael mirrored his posture, just behind him. Max clasped the headboard in front of him for balance, as Michael’s hands slipped away from his waist, finding their way to his hips.

"Max," Michael whispered. "I love you." Max instinctively thrust his hips backward a bit, and he felt Michael press hard against his slick opening, slowly pushing inside of him. As Michael entered, slipping tightly within Max’s walls, Max’s eyes widened in wondrous arousal-- and Michael pressed his warm mouth against his ear, whispering again, "I love you, Max. And I surrender."

Those were the last words Max heard before Michael took him to another plane, another dimension of desire, as Michael pumped a gentle rhythm within him. Max moaned helplessly, as the rhythm increased, becoming more insistent and demanding…terribly arousing. Max felt his cock harden dramatically—and Michael soon discovered just how aroused he'd become when his hand slipped down low across his abdomen, and his rhythm immediately sped in intensity when he clasped Max’s erection within his palm.

Michael couldn’t believe how flushed Max looked, as his eyes fluttered closed in deep pleasure, nor how damp his dark tresses had already become from their exertions. And all the while, Max’s walls were just so tight and amazing around him, as he pumped faster and faster, driven wild by his need for Max. Their kisses became hungrier, as Michael leaned over Max’s shoulder, capturing his lips in a deep kiss, thrusting his tongue possessively inside his mouth, even as his thumb traced the outline of Max’s jaw. It seemed he couldn’t get deep enough inside Max, possess him enough, as he kept reaching further within him.

Surrender…surrender.

And as Michael nestled his face against Max's cheek, feeling his soft stubble scratch his face, he knew the words were true. He’d surrendered tonight—not just to Max, but to Liz, too. And there’d be no going back, not ever.

Their kisses mingled with their sweat and their cries, long into the night, and over and over Michael murmured in Max’s ear, "I surrender, Maxwell…I love you and I surrender."