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Bradley Uppercrust the third was a lot of things, but above all else, prideful. 

After the humiliation that was the X-Games tournament, Bradley had taken quite a hit, his fraternity had booted him, and his parents had made him get a room in the regular dorms as some sort of penance for embarrassing them. Luckily, he still seemed to hold a small power over the general populace of the school, and people still stepped aside and seemed to avoid doing anything that would put them in bad favor with him.

Except Max Goof. 

His whole life had been turned ass up since his arrival, and Bradley couldn’t stand him. Well, he told himself that anyway. He and his little group of losers seemed to slide into college life without so much of a fuss, and Bradley couldn’t stand to see them getting along with so many of the established students. Usually it took a while to get the prestige required to be invited to parties, to hang on the squad with the so called ‘cool kids’. But as soon as Max had showed up with those skate moves and easy going smile, the college seemed to forgo all the traditions, the proper timeline. 

And then he won the stupid X-Games. Broke Bradley’s streak and his pride along with it. Stupid, effortlessly hot, Max fucking Goof.

He glared daggers into his head from where he was sitting in front of him in the lecture hall, absentmindedly digging the lead of his pencil so hard into his notebook that he ripped through a few of the pages. 

“You alright sweetheart? Your paper didn’t do anything to you.” Tank’s sultry voice cut through his reverie, and Bradley briefly turned his head to look at him, before grumbling and continuing with destroying his notebook. 

Tank had been pissed at him for a while after the games, and Bradley had to admit that he deserved it. He had let too much get to his head, his desire to impress everyone, his parents, that he put his closest friend in danger. It had taken a bit of groveling and promises of change, but Tank was reluctantly accepting. They had known each other since they were little, and Tank had been willing to let him back into his life if things changed. He hadn’t known when they had in the first place. One moment he was running around with him in their little private school uniforms, trying to beat each other to their classrooms, and then.. it was whatever they had been. He had yearned for some control, some of that power that he saw his parents wielding. He had been sick of being the weakest link. Bradley was doing his best to undo the damage,  and if anyone could see it, it was Tank. 

“He’s just…” Bradley let out a frustrated growl, letting his head smack a little too loudly onto the gouged notebook, causing a few heads to spin to him. Thank god this was the only class he had with Max. He didn’t know if he could get through his weeks if he had to keep staring at that inky black hair, the slope of his neck into that baggy shirt. Not a care in the world. Sometimes he was sat there making paper airplanes with Bobby under the desk on their laps, sometimes he was writing something that Brad was sure was not notes on English Lit. 

“You have it so bad Bradley.” Tank seemed to be saying this to himself as he scrawled down a note, not even looking at him. He had gotten a lot softer since the near death experience at the X-Games, like it had made him completely reconsider his approach to life, and god damn it it made him far too insightful. He no longer had the same spite and malice in his eyes that Bradley had loved. He thinks it’s a good thing though. 

Bradley’s head snapped up and he looked at Tank with a kind of manic look in his eyes. “I what?” His voice raised in a pitch of disbelief. 

The professor looked up at him disapprovingly, and fell silent, tapping his finger against his arm before he continued. 

“I hate him Tank. Jeez. Just because he helped you doesn’t mean I have to like him.” He hissed in a conspiratorial whisper. Tank rolled his eyes, seemingly not bothered by Bradley’s energy. 

He knew that deep down Tank was right, that despite everything that Max had done to his reputation, his future, there was something inexplicable that drew him to him, made his body stand on edge and his mouth dry up. 

“Yeah, sure darling. Might wanna try those glasses you never wear. You clearly need them.” He tapped the case that Bradley always put on the desk but never opened that contained said glasses with the back of his pen. He didn’t need anymore ammo against him when he was already at his lowest. “Plus, he’s nice. Kind. It would do you good to have some of that energy around you.” 

Bradley opted for ignoring him and continuing to scrawl things on his notes, most of which consisted of the words ‘max’ ‘fuck’ ‘goof’ ‘idiot’. 

—

As if fate hadn’t done enough damage to Bradley’s pride, he had been put in the same dorm as his arch nemesis as well. To twist a knife in that wound, he and Max seemed to have a similar start time in the mornings too, despite Bradley’s assumptions about him. 

Back when he was in the Gamma Mu Mu house, he had had a room all to himself, and privacy glore. He could get ready at his leisure. Now, he was forced to shower and do his 12 step skincare routine in a communal wash area. And it just so happened that Max seemed to get up around the same time as him. Bradley only had on a pair of tracksuit pants while he combed through his hair, all his things perched precariously on the small lip of the basin. He had been in there alone for the most part so far, weirdly enough it seemed like all his other ‘ fellow dorm mates’ were later risers then he was. And if someone did come in, they showered and left within five minutes. He didn’t know how their skin wasn’t drier then the fucking dessert. 

However, when a certain lanky boy slipped through the door with a cheerful and goddamn loud whistle, Bradley’s eyes darted over to the intruder, he couldn’t help the flush that ran up his neck and cheeks like a stupid rash. “Oh great.” he bemoaned. “Apparently having you in my dorm isn’t enough, now I need you around whistling obnoxiously in public places.” He pocketed the comb, now wanting to get as far as he could away, even if he had a few more steps in his routine to go. 

Max rolled his eyes, placing his bag and shower caddy in one of the stalls, right behind Bradley in fact. He could see the boy through the mirror, shuffling around in his bright red shower shoes. “Do you hate joy or something, Uppercrust?” He seemed unaffected by Bradley’s presence, and that did little to quell the annoyance under his skin. “Or is that stick up your ass just supremely comfortable?” He stripped off his shirt without bothering to close the stall door, and Bradley haphazardly shoved his products into his bag, trying to avoid locking eyes with him through the mirror, or worse, running his eyes down his exposed chest. Nope. Nah uh. Not today. 

“Maybe I just have better things to do than disturb the peace.” 

Max’s laugh was loud, a little bit  ‘ah-hyuck’ sound that made Bradley’s ears prick up curiously. Like father, like son. It was strangely endearing, not that he would ever admit that. Ever. Over his dead body. Max cut it off early, but breathed deeply through his nose. He heard him rustling through his caddy. “Brad, all you do is disturb the peace.” His voice was dry, and he just knew he had that same half lidded smug little expression on his face.

“What did I tell you about calling me–” Bradley made the mistake of turning around to address him, and god he wished he didn’t. Max was shirtless, he knew that, but he was surprisingly toned, and Bradley’s mouth gaped a little. He was wearing loose fitting blue sleep shorts with red detailing, that hung a little too loosely off his hips for his liking. Of all things though, the thing that drew his eyes was his goddamn nipple piercings. He stared, maybe for a solid ten seconds before he realized Max had spoken to him. And he was now standing there with his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. Jesus, did he have a thing for nipple piercings? He didn’t know, but he wanted to wrap his mouth around the metal, feel the cold bar against his tongue. 

“Brad? You good?”

“ Yes !” He didn’t mean to yell, but he quickly looped his bag over his arm and picked up his caddy too before he could look back up at Max and see his facial expression. “Shut up Max.” He couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say, not when he was about to develop a full hard on from seeing his enemies god damn chest. He stormed out of the room, gripping his shower caddy like it was magically going to fly out of his hands if he didn’t grip it as tightly as he could. 

He slammed the door to his dorm a little louder than he meant to, and the two other men that shared his space grumbled and half-heartedly told him to be quiet. He snapped back at them to mind their own business before leaning against the door. He let out a deep shaky breath and ran his hands through the hair he just tried to style. Good, great even. He sulked back over to his bed, mad at himself for letting himself get distracted before he could finish getting ready for the day, and decided he was just going to lie in bed and pray his goddamn cock calmed down because there was no way he was touching himself to Maximillian Goof.

—

Bradley’s days consisted of this for a while, running into Max at inopportune moments, snapping insults at him and having the boy just sigh and say something far more witty then Bradley wanted to give him credit for. Seemed like he was everywhere, every place he turned Max Goof’s pretty little mouth and soft eyes seemed to be. He felt itchy, out of place, vibrating with energy that he didn’t know where to channel. He tried to skate, and although he was a good skater, Max once again always seemed to breeze past him, distracting him enough to fly off his board and onto his ass. Then he would do some kind of impressive little trick and all the girls on campus would flock over to him, all while Bradley was still standing up. He tried to sit under a tree in the quad and read, something that he had gotten back into after his embarrassing boot from the Gammas, but Max and his loser friends seemed to always be hanging around on the grass, sitting in a circle and talking about what was probably something pointless and dumb. And his focus would be shot.

For a few blissful days however, he hadn’t seen him around campus. Whatever the reason, he was counting his lucky stars. He had an assignment due, and he was going to take advantage of the lack of distraction. His parents, while they could care less about his actual life, they did care about his academic achievement. He had already failed them to bring home another X-Games win, so the least he could do was not flunk his classes. His relationship with his parents was strenuous as it was and he didn’t need to make it worse.

He found himself in the library on a quiet campus afternoon, reading over some passages, when the star of his nightmares and reluctantly, his dreams, sat in the chair opposite him. At first Bradley didn’t notice, he continued to highlight things, mutter to himself and scribble notes in his notebook. It wasn’t until two sneakered feet propped themselves on the chair next to him that Bradley’s gaze flickered upwards.

Max had his own book propped up, worrying at his lip piercing with his teeth. It wasn’t a ball anymore, it was a pointy spike looking one. Bradley stared for longer than he should.

 “You’re like a bad smell, you know that? Always hanging around.” He muttered, using his hand to delicately push Max’s feet off the chair next to him. 

“Hey, it’s almost like I go here too. I’m allowed to use the library.” Max kicked his feet up again, and Bradley glared over at him. Max gave him a crooked smile, tapping the end of his pen against his lip. He seemed to be able to see right through him, and it made his skin crawl.

“And why do you think you can put your disgusting feet on the chairs? Just because your Dad is fucking the librarian doesn’t mean you get special privileges.” 

Max’s eyes widened and he coughed violently in surprise, Making half the library’s occupants look over at them. Bradley’s lips curled into a smirk, resting his chin on his hand and watching him regain his composure. He enjoyed unsettling Max, seeing him scramble for something to say. He was usually so cool, that any break in that facade was a delight to Bradley’s system.

“Dude, gross. Don’t talk about my dad. I don’t wanna.. Ugh.” He shuddered, but he didn’t return his feet to the table. Bradley was content with that, and they went back to silently studying in each other’s orbit for a bit. It was odd, and he kept sneaking glances up at Max, who was now just chewing on the end of that pen. He forced himself to look down, muttering some curses under his breath. 

“Something up Brad?” Bradley’s eyes peered over the book, and Max was grinning at him, slouching himself just enough in his seat so his calf knocked into his. He couldn’t help but jolt away at the touch, which caused the corners of Max’s mouth to pull up into an even more shit-eating grin that Bradley wanted to smack off his face. He couldn’t help but notice that of all the free tables in the library, Max had sat right in front of him. His friends weren’t anywhere in sight, which was unusual, they usually followed him around like two unassuming duckings. Just his luck that Max wanted to come and bother him. 

“I could ask you the same, Goof. Looks like you would rather study me over trigonometry.” He drawled, leaning forward on the desk on his elbows. 

“If only you were as easy to figure out as trig.” Max leaned out, now seemingly balancing on the back of the chairs legs. Lucky for him his balance was impeccable, and they barely wobbled at all. 

“Maybe you’re just not smart enough. I’ve seen who you associate yourself with. That Tj and Robby or whatever those clowns names are.” Bradley looked back down at his book, and decided that he wasn’t going to get any more work done now that Max had decided to appear, and he started to put his things away into his book bag, shoving his chair out and taking a little bit of pride in the loud harsh scraping noise that accompanied it. 

Max frowned, but Bradley’s gaze had already turned towards the door, which he stomped towards at a speed that was probably ill advised. What he didn’t expect however was Max to follow him, falling a few steps behind him in his walk. He groaned in frustration. God why did this guy have to irk him so incessantly. “What’s that supposed to mean? My friends are plenty smart. Bobby could probably get into your computer in 10 minutes flat. And PJ could probably dwarf your vocabulary.” His tone had taken on more of an edge now.

“Wow I’m shaking in my boots.” Bradley guffawed, pushing open the doors to the library and deriving some satisfaction from them swinging back at Max. He pushed back the oncoming wooden projectile with his hand though, following him out  and trying to match his long strides. Max seemed to be getting more and more frustrated.

“But I guess you aren’t the brightest bulb in the bunch yourself. I mean if you’re anything like your bumbling father, Maxxie— “

It happened faster than Bradley had the ability to process. In a swift movement, Max had wrapped his fingers around the circle of his wrist, shoving him back into the wall behind him, his body close enough to be radiating the most delicious heat. It didn’t knock the wind out of him, he still frustratingly felt the gentleness of someone who was better than him, better than Bradley’s razor sharp taunts and mean jabs. 

Max’s eyes were half lidded, and his eyebrows pinched together far more than usual. He hadn’t yet seen Max lose his cool before, he had been annoyed, frustrated, dismissive, but never physical. It made the hair on his body stand up straight and his breathing catch in his throat. The initial shock was far too quickly replaced by his body setting itself alight, shivers of arousal making his skin feel too hot and his breaths too quick. 

“You always have something to say don’t you, Brad? Always coming at people like they should kiss the ground you walk on.” Max’s voice was tight, and the grip of his wrist was as well. “You can’t stand when someone won’t.” 

“You almost sound jealous, Goof.” Bradley’s voice dripped with mirth, despite the tingles radiating in his body. He couldn’t help but lean into him, wanting nothing more but to feel the press of his body, just a little closer. “Didn’t your daddy tell you it’s rude to shove people into walls?” His voice dropped a few octaves, and his lips had curled into a smirk.

“Didn’t yours tell you to not be a brat ?” 

Bradley’s mind was fighting a losing battle with his body, he knew that. Being called a brat should have infuriated him, if it was anyone else it would, but from him? He wanted to moan, wanted to hear that word come from Max again. Instead what came out was a breathy laugh, as he slid his free hand up Max’s chest, palm pressed into the warm fabric of his ratty worn red shirt, before bunching it up into his fist as he reached his collar, pulling his face ever closer. It was Max’s turn to look surprised, and Bradley fully intended on finally knowing what those god damn piercings would feel like in his mouth. Max’s eyes flicked down to his lips, and Bradley was all but a goner. All of a sudden however, before Bradley could make good on that fantasy, the door next to them in the hallway opened and the two sprung apart as if they had been burnt. 

Max seemed confused and disoriented now that he had some space from Bradley, and he quickly turned on his heels and started down the hall. He quickly turned a corner and soon enough he was completely out of sight. Bradley sucked in a deep breath, and sent a death glare to the guy who had interrupted them, and the guy scuttled away almost faster then Max did. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

—

Once again Goof seemed to have disappeared from campus for the next few days. Bradley occasionally spotted PJ and Bobby, but Max was nowhere in sight. He didn’t know if he was relieved or frustrated at the development. He knew that a comment about his dad could throw him off, it seemed to be a sore spot for him, maybe he had gone into some kind of spiral. He kind of missed running into Max in the halls of the dorm, or in the washroom. If not to just say something out of pocket and watch him roll his eyes. 

He felt like he was slowly going insane, so when Tank invited him to a house party on the other side of town, he felt like this might finally be his opportunity to cut loose and forget about the whole Max thing. Maybe he could get laid, cleanse himself of his run in with the skater boy and get crazy. 

He hadn’t been invited to a party since the whole X-Games situation, and honestly it was an environment he had missed. In a college party away from home, everyone being off their face, able to just relax and take in a deep breath and let it go. His parents weren’t looming over his shoulder, there was no sense of impending doom or punishment at any little slip up. It was the place to be. No one would bat an eye if he made out with a boy, or if they did, it wouldn’t get back to his parents. People had more things to worry about. 

This particular party was a dress up party. In the typical way that people dressed up in college anyway. Low effort and low stakes. Bradley threw on a repeat of a previous outfit he had worn for Halloween one year, a Greek toga style piece with a little gold halo style headband. It was a bit sluttier than he usually went for, but he was horny and ready to throw himself out there. Anything to distract himself from his weird situation. 

Tank had agreed to pick him up and take him there if he met him outside the Gamma house, and thats where he was leant, scrolling on his phone and kicking his foot against the stairs. It sucked to be back here. He had spent too long in this house, with the people he could hear having muffled conversations and laughs from inside. He shuddered a little at the breeze, tugging down the hem of his toga and mildly regretting the decision. He knew once he was at the party he wouldn’t give it a second thought, but standing out on the grounds of his former fraternity house? He felt far too exposed. 

Tank sauntered out eventually, in a pair of camo pants and tank top, with mud smeared on his cheeks and a bandana pushing his hair back. 

The burly man whistled. “Ooh, slutty toga makes a reappearance huh, baby?” 

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well someone decided to give me the invitation to this party a little late huh?” He grinned though, using his foot to push himself off the wall and back into a standing position. “You look good. G.I Joe situation? Arnold Schwarzenegger type? I reckon you should dress up as the tooth fairy next year. Like you did when you were 10.” He sniggered, and Tank laughed, low and deep. It was nice, trying to let go of some of the coldness and hard edge he had developed over the years and joking around Tank. He wasn’t used to trusting. It didn’t come easy to him, but something about Tank’s new formed softness was rubbing off on him. 

“Maybe sweetheart, if you dress up as sexy Mrs Claus I might consider it.” 

“I’ll have to lose a pretty crazy bet for that, Tank.” 

The trip to the party wasn’t too long, Brad surmised that he might be able to walk home if he needed to, not that it was ideal considering how exposed he was. But hopefully the more ideal situation would be going home with someone else. 

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, people crowded around the outside, smoking and chatting to each other in little circles, all holding cups. There were a few people that went overboard in the costume department, he swear he saw someone painted head to toe in blue paint and a smurf hat.

Tank clapped his hand on Bradley’s shoulder, pulling him a little closer to speak over the music. “Have fun baby. Find me if you need me.” 

Bradley waved him off, patting him on the back as he disappeared into the crowd of milling people. There was a deep thumping track that Bradley swayed to as he found his way to the drinks. There was something about being another moving part of the clog, an ecosystem in a party house. There was almost an element of anonymity that he felt himself really enjoying. At Gamma Mu Mu parties he had had a sort of obligation to maintain a front, he was the leader, the beacon that everyone looked to. It was exhausting at times, and he was looking forward to his first party just as a guest. Not to mention the slight distance from the college meant there were people there who didn’t know him. Didn’t know he had once been the king of campus who had taken a rather ungraceful tumble. 

He poured himself a heavy shot of vodka, downing it quickly before mixing himself a concoction of multiple different spirits. He had been home a lot when he was teenager, his parents were always away on either business, or for pleasure, and one time when his Dad had been screaming on the phone to some exec, Bradley had managed to nick the keys for the liquor cabinet. He was resourceful, and he managed to clone them before slipping them right back into his fathers drawer. He had experimented a lot, and he knew what combination could get him drunk, and fast. 

He got into the living room, where the music seemed to be beckoning him to. This is where most people had congregated, swaying and dancing to the beat while probably off their heads. There were a handful of couples grinding and or making out on the dance floor and despite his general disgust at the public display of straight up germs that no doubt had this place in a chokehold, he closed his eyes, letting himself sway to the music, occasionally shooting down some of his drink. It only took about five minutes before a man slipped in behind him, purposefully sliding his hand across Bradley’s exposed arm and along the side of his body. From a small glimpse, Bradley could see he was dressed as a ‘twister’ board, and it took everything in him not to roll his eyes. He would take what he could get. He turned around in this man’s arms, looping his arms around his neck and getting close to him. He wasn’t.. Unattractive. He had dark brown eyes and a shock of almost sickening bleach blonde hair, with a grin that just read as sleazy. But he didn’t know him, and that was enough for him at this point. 

The first five minutes of dancing was good, great even. The warmth of another body and the touch of skin was making him almost forget about Max’s goofy grin and soft warm chest. It started, however, to go downhill when the man he was dancing with made his best attempt at buttering Bradley up, kissing his neck and slithering his hands down his waist. He screwed his nose up, trying to force his body to be into it, when he kind of felt like he was just being slobbered on. Fucking damn it, why couldn’t he be into this? This was what he needed for fuck sakes.

However, upon reopening his eyes over the slobbering man’s shoulder, he completely froze. Max was standing near the door with a cup in hand, and Brad couldn’t miss that stupid head of hair and disarming smile from a mile away. His dancer seemed to catch on a moment later that their movement had haltered, and he tried to get Bradley to keep swaying, but he shoved him backwards, making the man stumble back in surprise. “Yo dude, what the fuck?”  

Bradley gave him a withering look, straightening out his toga. “You really need to learn how to keep your saliva in your mouth when you kiss.” He shot back, stepping around the shocked man, and making a beeline for the drinks again. He needed another, god help him. 

In doing so, he had to walk towards Max, and getting closer to him really didn’t help. He was wearing a white ruffled shirt, with a pair of dark slacks. They fit him a lot better then his usual sagged pair of jeans, and Bradley couldn’t miss the way they hugged his figure. He had fake blood dripping from his mouth, and his hair almost pushed back. A fucking vampire. Figures. 

Max seemed to notice him, and he stopped the conversation he was having with Little Miss Mochachino or whatever her name was, to stare at him. He could practically feel his blood thumping around his body, turning the corner quickly into the kitchen and once again reaching for the spirits. He felt that stare seep into the back of his head, and he took a deep breath before he downed another vodka shot. He was a little tipsy now, to the point of maybe being unable to control what came out of his mouth. 

He didn’t expect Max of all people to be here. It really didn’t seem like his kind of scene, and he was spiraling. How was he supposed to get laid when the star of his wet dreams was standing down the hall? He attempted to suck in a deep breath, but the fog in the air of the kitchen  made him cough. Suddenly it felt too hot in here, too crowded, too sweaty and loud. He pushed past a few giggling girls to the hallway on the other side of the house. It was surprisingly quiet, sans a single person smoking up god knows what, and disappearing into a side room. He leant his head back against the wall, finally able to suck in the deep breath he needed. His lungs flooded with almost fresh air, and his body relaxed. 

He stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the pleasant buzz in his bones when a weight seemed to appear opposite him. 

“Toga huh? A bit on the nose for a former head of a fraternity isn’t it?” 

Bradley’s eyes shot open at the calm and amused voice of one Maximillian Goof. He set his cup on the bannister of the stairs behind him, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. His eyes were slightly glazed, and Bradley wondered absentmindedly what he had been drinking, or smoking. 

“It’s the only outfit I have at the moment.” He said, somewhat defensive, suddenly tugging at the ends of the white draped fabric and becoming far too aware of how short it was. 

Max raised his hands in defeat, and Bradley wished he missed the way his eyes flicked to where he had been tugging the toga down by his thighs. He had a look in his eye that he couldn’t quite place. “Hey, not knocking ya. I wouldn’t be able to rock that.” 

“Stop being fucking humble, Goof, I know about 10 girls who would kill to see you in this outfit.” 

He spat out before he realized what he said, flush coating his cheeks in the matter of seconds. 

The skater boy cocked his eyebrow, and before he responded, someone came by to apparently get through to the bathroom. Instead of stepping backwards into the stairs, he stepped forward, once more far too close to Bradley that he could smell him. He smelt like sweet rum and vanilla. He wondered if he tasted like that. 

“Some girls huh? I don’t know about that. They at the party?” 

His stomach felt like it had dropped into the floor. Max was probably here for the same reason he was, to sleep with some girl and bounce. Of course. 

“I don’t know Max, I was exaggerating okay? God. Maybe you should go and find one.” He pressed himself further against the wall. Max hadn’t stepped back to his previous position by the staircase, instead he stayed right there, a whisper away from Bradley and his fizzling nerves. 

“I think I can think of at least one guy who would wanna see me in that outfit too.” His voice had dropped in pitch, and he not so subtly dropped his eyes to Bradley’s outfit. “But I think you look better in it than I would.”

This has to be some sick and twisted dream his brain had concocted for him. He was waiting for the secret cameras to jump out, he was being punk’d, there was no reasonable explanation for this. There was no way Max Goof was this slick with his flirting, there was no way it was being directed at him. 

The wall by the library had been a fluke, he had convinced himself of that. Max had been mad, he lashed out in a rare moment of anger and he had fled when he realized Brad was a freak. Then what the hell was this? 

Someone else pushed by to go to the bathroom, and Max now stepped so his breathing fanned over Bradley’s face. He was wearing the ball snakebites again today.  “Got no snide remarks, Uppercrust?” He practically purred, hand now bracing itself against the wall near Bradley’s head. 

He was sure that his face was twisted into some expression of pure disbelief, his skin lit up a scarlett maroon.  

“I… oh fuck you.” He breathed, unable to stop himself from grabbing him once again by the collar of his stupid fru fru shirt and doing what he had intended to do in the hallway outside the library. 

The initial clash of mouths was dirty, unbalanced, as Max’s other hand came quickly down to brace himself on the wall, but a shock of electricity had lit Bradley up from his toes to his fingertips and he wasn’t about to stop so Max could get his balance. Max righted himself, now stepping completely into Bradley’s body, and it was was so much. His hands quickly unwound from his shirt and around the back of his neck, sliding into the back of his hair in some desperate attempt to pull him closer. The slide of their mouths was hot and dizzying, and he ran his tongue quickly over the cool metal in Max’s mouth, reveling in the sweet sound the boy made low in his throat. 

Bradley almost jumped out of his skin when Max’s hands settled on his hips, and this felt oh so different to Twister man. He rubbed little circles with his thumbs into the thin fabric, all the while now breaking away from his mouth so he could press hot kisses down his jaw. He let out a breathy moan as Max nipped a spot behind his ear that made him want to melt, and he could feel the boys grin against his skin.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m making out with a guy who has the last name Goof.” He punctuated this by gripping his hand a little too tight in Max’s hair, but that didn’t seem to throw him off for a second. 

“Rich coming from someone with the last name ‘Uppercrust’.” Max piped back, but he didn’t stop the assault on Bradley’s neck, sucking a hickey far too far up his neck for him to be able to safely hide. This fucking guy. 

Brad pulled his back up to his mouth, cupping his flushed cheeks with his palms, because god damn he wasn’t going to be the only one with tricks here. He slid one of his hands down and over Max’s stupid frilly shirt, brushing Max’s pierced nipple through the silky fabric. The gasp that left Max’s mouth was well worth it, and Bradley took the opportunity of his opened mouth still pressed against him to bite his bottom lip, sucking the skin in the process. 

Max shuddered, and involuntarily seemed to grind his hips into Bradley, who was feeling just as affected as him it seemed. “You play dirty, Brad.” He whispered as he pulled back, eyes scanning Bradley’s face. They stood there for a few moments, and let the gravity of the dam that had just broken roll over them. Bradley didn’t think he could go back. And he didn’t want to. 

“Come with me.” All of a sudden Max turned his back, and Bradley swore he had never felt so exposed and cold , missing Max’s body more then he would ever admit, but when he laced his hand in his to pull him out towards the party, his world tipped on its axis. No one had ever held his hand like this, not sexually or otherwise. It was too romantic, too close. Even if it was to guide him somewhere, usually he just followed along blindly. But Max just squeezed his hand, fully unaware of Bradley’s shock, and seemingly on a mission. “Where the hell are we going? I don’t want to fucking dance right now, Freshman.” He groaned. He was hard as fuck, and he was lucky he had worn his compression shorts or this party would see more then just the skin of his thighs. 

Max didn’t reply, and soon they broke out from the party, onto the front steps of the lawn Tank and him had separated early in the night. Max looked around and made a humming noise when he found what he was looking for. Still holding Bradley’s hand, he made a beeline for an ugly hipster looking Volkswagen van parked off on a dark side street. “You’re fucking kidding me. Of course you drive a shitty little Greenpeace ass van.” 

“It’s Bobby’s actually. And you should be glad it’s here otherwise we might be arrested for public indecency.” He grinned, dropping Bradley’s hand so he could fish through his pockets for the keys. The van had blocked out windows and scuffs all over the exterior. It was the opposite sort of car that Bradley liked to be seen in, but beggars can’t be choosers, and he knew that his horny brain was going to win out against his pride. 

Max pulled open the door, and flicked a little switch by the door. Bradley almost laughed as fairy lights suddenly lit up the van, and Max tumbled into it, grinning over at Bradley and shooting out his hands like he had never been prouder of anything in his life. “Mi casa su casa.” He said in supringly perfect Spanish. 

Bradley rolled his eyes, climbing into the van and pulling the door shut behind him. The van was absolutely filled with pillows and blankets, and the walls had various posters of rock artists. It was a cosy little space, Bradley had to admit, even if it smelt insanely strongly like weed. “The fairy nights are a nice touch.”

Max’s grin was making his stomach erupt in flutters. “Thanks. Those were my idea. Adds to the ambience.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Brad absolutely loathed the way he genuinely laughed at the action. He would blame it on the alcohol coursing through his blood.

“As much ambience as a stinky hippie van can have.” He crawled over to Max, and without a second of hesitation, crawled over into his lap. Max’s hands once again fell were Bradley had missed them, on his hips. He leaned down to kiss him again, and Max titled his head up to meet him, slow and deep. Bradley was used to fast and hard, a quick hookup that was efficient and almost clinical in nature. He had learnt to expect it, people weren’t with him for anything more than convenience, and that had suited Bradley just fine. Until now. He didn’t know if he could go back to quick hands in a bathroom stall and secretive touches in the back of a closet. He felt fire seeping through his pores, hot to the touch, and he wondered absently why Max’s fingers weren’t on fire. 

Max’s hands then slipped up the bottom of his toga, resting his palms flat on the tops of Bradley’s thighs, and he felt as though he should write a personal letter of thanks to the Romans for his bastardisation of their culture for the contact. 

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” He breathed, shuffling ever closer in his lap, forcing the tips of his fingers to skirt on the edges of his shorts.

Max’s eyes were half lidded, and glazed over with lust as he took a second to take in that information, and he let out a sound of agreement. He tried to unbutton his shirt, but apparently he wasn’t used to wearing shirts with that many buttons, because he fumbled royally to even get one or two undone. 

“Jesus Christ, Max.” He batted his hands away, taking over the task of unbuttoning Max’s shirt as quickly as he possibly could, and he went to private school with two parents who made him learn how to tie a tie in under 10 seconds when he was 6 years old. So he made quick work of it. 

Bradley pushed it off his shoulders hurriedly, and he finally got the chance to admire Max’s chest. He was lean, but he could tell that he was involved in sports, his stomach was taut with mild definition that made Bradley’s mouth water. He didn’t waste any time leaning down and finally getting his mouth on those metal bars that since he saw, had kind of destroyed his life. He pressed his tongue against them, enjoying the contrast, but enjoying the sharp gasps from Max more as he dragged his tongue. The position was a little awkward though, so he pushed his hands against his chest firmly, and Max toppled backwards into a bean bag with a little huff of surprise, which quickly morphed back into a moan as Bradley got right back to business. It was when he started moving south down his chest that Max’s breathing really sped up, and he smirked against his skin. 

He should have been more nervous then he was. While sex wasn’t new to him, sex with someone who he had had a rivalry with was a different story. However Max’s little gasps and moans emboldened him even more to show him exactly how he had been feeling since he had first laid eyes on him, skating down the streets by the frat house with some of the most impressive moves he had seen in his time as a frat leader. He wanted to show him he had moves too. 

When he reached the waistband of his slacks, Bradley once again took the initiative to unbutton them and slowly and almost tauntingly pulled down the zip. He had to admit however, that this happening on the one day he was wearing tight pants was in itself a crime. For now he just ran his nose along the strip of his exposed boxers, which caused Max to involuntarily buck his hips. 

“Oh, desperate much?” He teased, letting himself sit up enough that he could tug his pants down his legs, trying not to drool at each inch of skin that was revealed to him. He didn’t give Max time to recover yet again, tossing the offending garment somewhere in the front seat.

If there was one thing Bradley had gotten good feedback on, it was his blowjobs. And he intended to show that particular skill off.

“Making good on the brat comments I see.” Max finally spoke as Bradley was busy lying down on his stomach in front of him, elbows around either side of his legs. 

“No, just observing a truth.” He grinned, punctuating his sentence by leaning down and mouthing at his cock through his boxer briefs. As he dragged the flat of his tongue over the fabric, Max’s sharp inhalation of breath was a good sign. 

“Wait wait..” 

Bradley quickly lifted his head, a surge of panic rushing through his body at the words. “Sorry, uh.” Max seemed embarrassed. “You're clean right? I got tested recently and I haven’t.. Well.” he coughed.

His heart jumped back down from his throat, and he let all the Gods there might possibly be, thank you. He didn’t know what he would do if Max pushed him away now. If he had been punk’d, that Max’s friends were all going to jump out from the corners and laugh at him. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I get tested regularly. And uh, I haven’t been laid since…” he cut off, not wanting to admit that since the X-games he had pretty much had the longest dry spell he had had in years. Max didn’t dwell on that, he just nodded. 

“Good!” He coughed, eyes widening when he realised how enthusiastic he sounded. “I mean, good.” He dropped his voice unnaturally low in an attempt to sound normal, and Bradley snorted. “I don’t mean like, good that you haven’t had sex with anyone, but-“

“Max?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Shut up.” 

He turned his attention back to the sizeable tent in Max’s boxers, and he used this as an opportunity to tug his boxers down his legs just enough for Max’s cock to spring out, and Bradley had to stare. 

He was big, much bigger then he would have expected with such a lithe frame, perfectly curved and oh so hard. He let a visible shudder run through his body at the thought that he was hard because of him. It was always a bit of a power trip, but with Max it felt like that feeling tenfold. 

He wanted to tease him a little more, kiss around his thighs, make him shake with need until he was begging him, but if he didn’t get his mouth around Max soon he was going to be the one begging. 

He wrapped a hand loosely around him, and he noticed Max’s stomach tighten in anticipation. He kitten licked the head of his cock, and the breath Max sucked in was enough to spur him into action. 

He licked a stripe from his base to the head of his cock, letting his tongue swirl around the head before he dropped onto him, almost all the way down in a single movement. He adored this, the feeling of being full, the honey thick scent of arousal that dominated every sense, and to make things better, he didn’t really have much of a gag reflex. 

He bobbed his head, quickly picking up on the things that Max liked. He was easy to read like this, keyed up and panting, Bradley liked it, he wanted to see more. 

“Fuck, Brad. You’re as good as I hoped. So good. So good..” The words drew a long moan from Bradley, muffled by cock but spurred on none the less. Maybe he had a thing for praise too, or at the very least, Max’s praise. 

He hummed deeply around him to show his approval for his words, letting his tongue press into the sensitive spot he found under the head of his cock, and once again running his tongue through the slit before dropping back down onto the length.

“Yeah, fuck. Fuck I always imagined what you would look like sucking my cock. Like you were made for it.” Max’s words were quick and punched out, and he threw the halo from Bradley’s hair somewhere into the pillows behind him and for the first time that night, gripped the strands, hard. 

Bradley choked on a moan, rutting into the blankets underneath him from the shock of pleasure that he felt radiating through his body at the motion. He looked up at Max through his lashes, and his eyes were completely drooped with desire, looking right at him, so much so it made him shudder.

“Oh? You like that? Like getting your hair pulled? After making it so perfect, you just want someone to mess it up? Hold your hair while they fuck your mouth?” His words dripped honey, and Bradley’s eyes rolled back, letting out another little noise of agreement. Just when he thought he was in control, Max swept in from under him, and Bradley loved the fight. 

“Want everyone to know how good you suck cock? Walk around with your hair all fucked? Want people to know who did it to you?” He tugged again and this time Bradley took him down to the root, letting out a small choking noise from his nose pressed up against him, spit gathered around the corners of his lips. 

Max’s head fell back and he moaned, whispering curses under his breath. 

Bradley pulled up with a gasp, letting himself take a second to suck in some well deserved air. “You have no fucking idea.” He breathed, realising that his voice sounded fucked and raspy. He came back down slowly, teasingly, still looking up at him now. 

Max groaned in frustration, and the hand combed from the nape of his head all the way to the top of his head. 

He wanted him to make good on his promise, fuck his throat and make sure he could feel it in the morning. He wanted a memory of this, something to hold onto. And god damn if it was a bruised throat he would take it.

He made a low noise in his throat, stopping halfway and suckling. He squeezed his hip with one hand, and Max seemed to understand what he was saying. He propped himself up a little on his elbow for leverage, and then his hips were gently rocking into Bradley’s mouth. 

Bradley reached one hand down and under his own body, and despite the limited space, managed to palm his own cock through his compression shorts. 

“Touching yourself? Did I say you could do that?” Max teased, snapping his hips and little harder and letting his whole length slide into his mouth, and Bradley took a deep breath in through his nose. He reluctantly removed his hand, but ever defiant, grinded his hips in small circles. 

Max pulled him off his cock all together, and Bradley straight up whined at the missing heat. God he was so far gone. 

“Baby if you keep going I’m gonna come. And no offense, I wanna do more stuff to you before that.” 

Bradley found it hard to complain about that. He sat up on his knees, using his thumb to swipe at the spit and precum that had gathered around his lips, before sucking his thumb into his mouth and locking eyes directly with Max. 

His eyes were practically smouldering, and his chest was moving rapidly in small little bursts. 

“Oh yeah? What do you wanna do to me?” Bradley purred, his grin growing as Max sat up, and this time, pushed Bradley down into the blankets. 

He nosed up Bradley’s neck, leaving ever so light kisses against his skin and the hickies he had left earlier. “Well first off, who’s wearing too much now?” His tone was teasing, as he pushed the shoulder of his outfit off his arm, and undid the little gold rope he had around his waist. He ghosted his lips over Bradley’s ear, and he shuddered in anticipation. Fuck, how was someone like Goof so good at pushing every single horny button in his brain. 

“I wanna get you naked, stroke your pretty little cock until you’re shaking, and then I wanna fuck you.” He breathed against the shell of his ear, and Bradley moaned heavily in response. 

Luckily his outfit was easy to take off, it was a glorified sheet, but Max still took his time. He placed his hand flat on Bradley’s upper thigh, and dragged it up, just missing his cock and bunching all the fabric before sliding it off his head. 

“Jesus, Brad, you must be dying in these. They are so tight.”  He hooked a finger in the waistband of his shorts, letting the fabric snap back into his hips, causing Bradley to jolt.

“Well otherwise the whole fucking party would have seen my dick, Goof, and I know you think I’m vain but I’m not that vain.” 

“Could’ve fooled me. You suck cock like you want everyone to see.” 

God damn him and his ability to instantly make him simmer with heat, he was supposed to win arguments. It was kind of what he was known for. He grumbled, and to combat Max’s teasing, he reached done and hooked his fingers in the shorts, pulling his legs up and forcing Max onto his knees before tugging them down his legs and flinging them in a similar forgotten space as Max’s pants. 

Max stared at him for a few seconds, and Bradley squirmed at the feeling. He wasn’t ashamed of his body, he knew he was hot. He had a good figure, he played plenty of sports, and his cock was perfectly framed by his muscular thighs. He wasn’t bad looking, he knew, but Max’s perception was something else entirely. Usually during hookups Brad could care less, he was there to fuck and suck and that was that, there was no long staring and touching, it was go go go. So the way Max was staring made his body feel electric. 

“Go on then. Fuck Max you don’t know what you’re doing or something. Touch me .” 

That seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in staring at his body, and he grinned, leaning down close by his face again. 

“Say please.” 

Brad choked a little at that, narrowing his eyes in a daring squint. “Make me.” He crossed his arms over his chest, unable to help himself from pushing back.

It might have been the wrong thing to fight, because Max’s lips pulled into a downright cocky smile, the metal of his piercing glinting in the dim glow of the fairy lights. and he shrugged a shoulder. “Okay.” 

Max titled his chin up, kissing him deeply, as his hand gripped one of his crossed arms, sliding down to his wrist ever so delicately and breaking the kiss to pin it above his head. He wasted no time leaning back down again pulling his lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before he went back to kissing him like he was water in a desert. Hot and desperate. 

Bradley could feel himself getting more and more impatient, arching his back into Max’s body, feeling his cock smear precum into the dip of his stomach, and he wanted so much more. He whined when Max trailed his lips back down his neck, this time until he reached his nipples. They briefly met each other's eyes again, and he took Bradley’s nipple between his lips, sucking hard all at once and the older man gasped in shock. He liked the little jolt of pain, and the way Max soothed it with his tongue immediately after. He moved between his nipples, using his hand that wasn’t pinning Bradley to the various pillows beneath them to skate over his skin near his hips. He rubbed small circles into his flesh like he had during their first kiss, and Bradley practically keened. 

“Fuck fuck. Max.” He breathed, throwing his head back and trying to starve off at least some of his moans. He was sounding like a wanton whore just from this. 

Max’s fingertips ran to his inner thigh, oh so close to his cock that it made Bradley’s mouth dry up. His free hand tightened in the blankets.  

“God damn it Goof! Fucking touch me.” He practically growled, and Max just looked up at him in amusement. He let out a slow and deliberate breath against his nipple, which was a mind numbing sensation against the cooling wetness of his salvia. 

“‘Fucking touch me, please’ I think is the words you’re looking for. Is please even in your vocabulary?” 

Bradley’s glare was venomous, and he decided to fight fire with fire. He sweetened up, arching his back as much as he could in this position, letting out his breathiest and sluttiest moan he could muster. 

“Oh please Max, please touch my cock, I wanna feel your warm strong hands on me, need it so bad. Please. Please. Fuck me with your perfect thick cock. Please split me open on your dick.” 

Max gaped a little at him, and Bradley, as smug as he was, arched an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “What? Wasn’t that enough?” He drawled, mock innocent sweetness rolling from his words. 

Max glared at him, even if Bradley felt his cock twitch under him from his words, he didn’t let it show on his face. “Touché. I’ll make you beg, princess, don’t worry.” 

He let go of Bradley’s hand, and instead spat on his, and despite Bradley’s screwing up his nose at the vulgar action, he surged back up his body to kiss him again, and finally got his hand on his cock. He wrapped his fingers around him and Bradley, for all his bravo, quickly fell apart. He had been hard for so long, and all the encounters and small incidents for the last couple of weeks all seemed to accumulate in the now. After so many weeks refusing to let himself get off to Max, he was now getting off with Max. Even when he had tried to jerk off, Max’s face always swam into his consciousness, and he quickly stopped and usually put a pillow over his face and screamed.

Max was a quick learner, he twisted his hands in just the right ways, thumbing over his slit and rubbing the small nerve under the head of his cock that made him whimper. 

He kept climbing the crest, letting himself fall into the pleasure and let it surround him, someone else’s hand on him always made him feel unreal, it was so much better than his own, and when it was Max the feeling seemed to triple. 

He was in the throes of it when Max’s hand abruptly stopped. Bradley’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Max in disbelief, and the man met his gaze with half lidded heat. “ Max—“ 

“ Beg.” 

Bradley was way too far gone for this. He was sure he would find something else to blame it on later, but he opened his mouth and couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. 

“Please Max, fuck, it feels so good. Need it. Please.” He was rewarded with another few strokes, and Bradley almost sobbed in relief. 

But it was short lived, and he let go of him entirely. Bradley’s eyebrows knit together, and he opened his mouth to speak again when Max gently cut him off. 

“Good boy. But I want you to come on my cock.” 

Bradley shuddered, every nerve in his body lighting up at the praise. He nodded far too enthusiastically, and let his legs fall open even more. 

Max suddenly removed himself from between Bradley’s legs, and he let out a huff from his nose at the loss. Max laughed. “Calm down princess, I’m just getting my lube and my condom.” He searched around for his pants, making a small ‘a-ha’ noise when he found them and dug through the pockets. He crawled back over to him and Bradley took advantage of his proximity to grab his face in his hands and pull him down into a searing kiss. He never kissed during sex, it was a no go. Too messy. But with Max he wanted to kiss him until his fucking lips turned blue. 

Max’s fingers wandered down his body and to his hole, his finger catching on his rim. He broke the kiss so he could sit up on his knees and squirt some lube onto his fingers. He kissed Bradley’s knee ever so sweetly, as his fingers found their way back to his hole, circling it with the pad of his finger with an ever so light pressure making Bradley moan low in his throat. Max seemed intent on going slow, but when the first finger slipped in with no fuss at all, Max’s eyes flew to Bradley’s. He grinned sheepishly. “Kinda prepped myself before the party. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He hadn’t came, as far as he was concerned he was just going to get in a quick fuck to fix whatever the hell was wrong with him, and get it over and down with and stop fixating on fucking Max. He supposed that he had veered very quickly down the opposite path. 

“Stretched yourself for me? So sweet. A shame though, I’m very good with my fingers, I’ve been told. Would love to fuck you with them and see if I could make you come untouched.” 

Bradley thought he was getting used to Max’s filthy mouth, but every time he spoke he felt spikes of arousal through every inch of his body. 

He pumped his finger a few times before very quickly adding a second. Max’s fingers were long and slender, and he knew just how to twist them to make him gasp. He brushed up against his prostate and Bradley sobbed out a moan. 

“Mmm fuck, there, there.” 

Max drove him insane, brushing just past it on purpose until Bradley was shaking, before he finally hit it spot on again and he involuntarily arched his back in pleasure. 

Bradley didn’t even notice when a third finger joined in, too busy drowning in the feeling. However he did notice when Max pulled them out, making him feel so fucking empty. 

“Bobby’s gonna kill me.” He muttered to himself, wiping his hand on one of the pillows to their side that was decorated in a garish tie dye, with a peace sign in multicoloured stitches. It was hideous, so Bradley could find himself caring less. 

“I’m the one that’s going to kill you in a second if you don’t shut up and fuck me.” 

Max tutted, hooking his hands under his knees and rubbing small little circles into them. “God who would have guessed you would be so needy. The legendary Bradley Uppercrust the third.” He teased. 

“ Please Max.” He choked out, lifting his hips a little. He was losing the fight, he knew that. Even if he fought dirty, he was gracious enough to accept defeat. Especially if defeat meant being fucked this way to Friday. 

Max grinned. “Good boy.” God knows Bradley would do anything he could to hear Max say that over and over again, pride be damned. 

He didn’t know when Max had put on the condom, but he felt the tip of him against his fluttering hole and he wanted nothing more than to grab Max’s hips and push him inside. Instead Max took his time, inch by dizzying inch until Brad was panting. The stretch felt so good, he had missed it, and Max felt as though he was made for him. Max bottomed out, and they both froze, chests heaving as they stared at each other. There was so much history, so much chemistry that it felt incomparable to anything Brad had ever experienced.

When Max gently pulled back, and then snapped his hips forward for the first time, Bradley jolted, letting a hiccup of a moan fall from his lips. “Mm fuck! Fuck, Max. So good.” 

The younger boy seemed spurred on by this, and he gripped the front of his thighs as he started slow and deep, reveling in each time the slap of skin echoed throughout the van. It wasn’t too long before Max lost some of that cool, however, and his thrusts became much harder, much quicker, and Bradley felt as though his eyes were going to roll out of his head. This was better than any of the wet dreams he had had as of late, Max filled him up perfectly, and he was falling apart so quickly. 

He started breathing out desperate little ‘uh uh uh’s’ accompanied by Max’s name and a slew of dirty encouragement. He was so pent up he didn’t know if he was going to last long, and Max seemed to be similarly effected. 

“God, thought of doing this from the moment I met you. Wanted to bend you over one of the tables at Bean Scene and fuck you until you screamed.” Max choked out. 

“Jerked off so much thinking of your smug little face, imagining how good you would look on your knees in the washroom. Took everything in me not to fuck you right there in the hallway of the party. Let everyone know how much you crave my cock. I could tell, every single time, how much you wanted me. You’re so obvious princess.” He hooked his arms under his knees now, and practically folded him in half with his thrusts, and the friction of Max’s stomach on Bradley’s cock made him keen. He was lost in his words, and couldn’t find it in himself to argue. It was true, Brad had never wanted someone more than he wanted this stupid skater boy, and if Tank could see it, he was sure most people could. 

“I’m so close Max, f-fuck. Keep talking.” 

“You can touch yourself baby.” He breathed, right as he hit Bradley’s prostate directly, and he practically yelled, reaching down inbetween their bodies. He couldn’t move his hand very well, but the pressure and drag he could get was enough to make his mouth water. 

“So good for me, such a pretty boy Brad,” it was a string of consciousness that Bradley wanted to follow until the end of time, he wanted to chase this feeling forever and ever until it led him off a cliff. 

He felt his orgasm hit him like a steam roller, flattening his breath and he knew at this point he had tears rolling down his face with every hiccuping gasp as he let wave after wave of bliss wash over him. Max leant down and swallowed them with his mouth, the kiss far too tender for how hard he was fucking him though his release, but the contrast was delicious and Bradley didn’t want it any other way. 

Max was mumbling sweet nothings into his mouth when his own hips stuttered, as he came deep inside of him. God one day Bradley wanted to know what that would feel like without a condom. Wanted to feel Max dripping out of him, hot and wet and full. Wanted Max to fuck it back into him with his fingers until he came again. 

Bradley patted his head, mumbling praises back to him as he slowed his thrusts down, his arms practically shaking as he pulled out of him. Bradley mourned the loss, especially the warmth as Max sat back up on his knees to tie the condom off. 

After he tossed it near the stairs of the can, away from all the pillows, he grabbed Bradley’s toga, and used it to clean up the mess on their stomachs, to his indignation. “Hey! What the fuck Max! Ruin your own fucking clothes. What the hell am I supposed to wear now?” 

Max grinned. “I have a spare set of clothes over in the corner. In case the can ever broke down driving back to visit my dad. You can wear those.” He said practically flopping onto Bradley’s body, wrapping his arms around his torso and managing to turn them so they were facing each other. 

Bradley’s face was lit up crimson at the idea of wearing Max’s clothes, and he muttered under his breath something halfheartedly about never wanting to be seen in those rags. Max just sniggered, nuzzling his head into his neck and tossing one of the loose blankets over their bodies. “For now I just wanna hold you though.” He mumbled, cutting off Bradley’s complaint. 

He let his mouth snap shut, and the flush in his face felt like it had warmed his whole body. Bradley wasn’t a cuddler, he had made it clear to himself time and time again that he wasn’t. But maybe he had more to unpack about himself then he thought. For now this was enough.

He could still faintly hear the party droning on from outside the walls of the van, and he let himself enjoy the peace, closing his eyes and running his fingers up and down Max’s arms. 

However the peace didn’t last long, because the door of the van flung open, and he and Max startled, Bradley pulling the blanket further up his body. 

“Pj did you leave the lights on, man the battery is gonna go out– Max? What the fuck. Is that a used condom?! Dudeee not cool.” Bobby was standing at the door, with a curious PJ trying to sneak a look from behind him. “Is that Bradley ? Is this a bad fucking trip man?” He whined. 

“Yes! Bobby, you owe me 50 bucks!” PJ chimed in with delight. 

“You bet on us? ” Max shot back, now sitting up with his blanket around his waist. Bradley groaned, falling back into the pillows with his hands over his face as the little trio argued back and forth between each other. 

Eventually they agreed to let them get changed and right themselves, but not without Bobby bemoaning about all the loads of laundry he would have to do now. 

“Sorry about them.” Max said sheepishly, now plucking various items of clothing from around the van.

Bradley sighed loudly, and admittedly a little dramatically. “It’s fine. I’ll get used to it.” He slipped on the spare shirt Max kept in the van, and delightfully realized that it smelt just like him. 

Max paused for a second to mull over the deeper meaning in those words, and let a grin slip onto his face. “I’m sure you will, Uppercrust.”