Max was still turning over what Jeremy had said earlier when he got home from Frocks around midnight. Anthony had talked Max into sticking around for the show, and afterward, they got to talking, and Max finally explained what was happening with Jeremy. Anthony had congratulated him.
Max wasn’t sure he wanted those congratulations. His doubts sat like a heavy stone in his stomach.
The apartment was dark when Max walked in. He had a moment in which he worried Jeremy had gone somewhere—had gone back to Ryan, despite his protestations—but he found Jeremy in bed, snoring softly.
This level of paranoia was going to kill Max.
He hopped in the shower to wash away the sweaty, stale-alcohol scent of the bar, and tried to tell himself he wasn’t being rational. Jeremy had been very clear about not getting back with Ryan, and Max believed him. Deep down, he acknowledged that Ryan wasn’t even really the issue. Max was more concerned that he didn’t have Jeremy’s whole heart.
He didn’t now. He might in time.
The water at his feet was pinkish, which made him reconsider his hair. Max was already over the hot pink; he’d been over it the day after he’d touched up the dye job. One of the other queens at Frocks was a hairdresser; maybe Max could just submit to his will. He contemplated new colors to avoid thinking about Jeremy. He’d seen a photo in a magazine of unicorn hair that was gray and purple and blue, and that might work okay on his head.
He wondered what Jeremy would think of it. He wondered if it mattered. He’d caught Jeremy staring at his hair a few times, and guessed Jeremy didn’t like it, though he hadn’t said anything.
But was that rational? Jeremy might have loved Max’s hair and Max was just projecting. Max wasn’t beautiful and graceful like Jeremy. And that was okay; he’d just have to stand out in his own way.
He pulled on the old terrycloth robe he’d had since college and walked to his bedroom. Jeremy hadn’t moved. He lay there with the covers pulled up to his chin, the shape he made suggesting he was asleep on his belly with his legs jackknifed. His lips were parted, his eyelashes fluttered, and the stubble on his chin stood out in the eerie light from the hall.
He was gorgeous. Max loved him irrevocably.
He didn’t want to wake Jeremy, so he flipped the hall light switch and stumbled into the dark bedroom. He misjudged the distance between the door and the mattress and hit his shin on the corner of the bed. Hard. He hissed, stumbled backward, and cursed.
And, of course, woke Jeremy. His head shot off the pillow. He gasped, looked around, and seemed to find Max in the dark. “Wha...”
“Sorry. I was trying to get in bed without waking you and totally failed.”
Jeremy nodded and flopped back down on the pillow. Max thought he’d fallen back to sleep, but then Jeremy said, “How was the show?”
“Good.” Max took off his robe and hung it on the closet door. “Anthony was having a crisis because he heard the booking guy from that gay bar in Dumbo was going to be there tonight.”
“‘That gay bar in Dumbo’?”
He forgot sometimes that Jeremy wasn’t privy to all of the information in Max’s head. “Oh, so, there’s a makeup artist slash drag queen who was on that monster makeup reality show? Face Paint? Do you know it?”
“I’m familiar with it.”
“He won the show, and he put his winnings toward opening a gay bar in Dumbo that in the last year has become the place to go to see drag. The Brooklyn drag scene basically operates out of there now. The vibe there is edgier than at Frocks, so Anthony wanted me to make Sarah Moaney stand out a little more. I put electric blue lashes and eyeliner on her and did big swooping eyebrows and glow-in-the-dark stars all around the frame of her face.” Max touched his own face to demonstrate. “Then we put her in this crazy purple asymmetrical wig Anthony bought at Wigs Plus last week. She looked amazing. I’ll show you pictures in the morning.”
“Did the Dumbo guy show up?”
“Yeah, he did. There are, like, eight people in the world who probably could have picked him out of a lineup, and they were all at Frocks tonight. It was all anybody could talk about.”
Jeremy chuckled. “The world of makeup artists who do drag is a small one, I take it.”
“You could say that.”
Jeremy rolled to his side and looked Max up and down. Max could see him clearly now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim, orangey glow from the streetlight outside his window.
“You ever consider doing full drag?” Jeremy asked.
“Nah. I mean, I’ve thought about it, but I couldn’t do it onstage. I’d have a heart attack from the nerves.”
“It always surprises me that you’re so skittish in front of crowds. You stand out so much otherwise.”
Max slid into bed, adjusted the pillow, put his head down, and thought about that for a moment. “In a good way, I hope.”
“In the best way.” Jeremy reached over and ran a hand through Max’s hair. Max considered asking whether Jeremy really liked his hair, but didn’t want to hear the answer.
Instead, he said, “I’m not deliberately trying to stand out. Just express myself. One of the things I love about makeup is that you can literally change your face to suit your mood. And you know that I love bright colors. I want the world to be more colorful. Especially in a city where everybody wears black.”
Jeremy chuckled. “I love that your self-expression is so loud and fearless.”
Fearless? The first time Max had worn makeup in public—just eyeliner, brow pencil, and lip gloss, not even anything too zany—he’d been terrified, but it felt right to paint his face. He loved the effects he could achieve on his own skin. He loved the blend of masculine and feminine, of bright red lipstick when he had a bit of beard growth, of a little shimmer on his cheeks, of mascara on his long lashes.
He’d been likewise terrified the first time he’d dyed his hair a weird color. That first time, he’d been twenty. He’d done it himself, bleaching his hair platinum blond, then adding green streaks. His mother told him it looked like he was growing mold in his hair, and she’d been joking, but it had made him self-conscious.
And he got looks on the street and on the subway quite a bit. He’d been called a freak by some besuited guy on the 2 train just a couple of weeks ago. He felt pretty safe in New York, but not always. He toned it down some days—as much as someone with neon hair could tone it down—and if he were still at home in the Jersey suburbs, he couldn’t dress the way he liked for his own safety. He understood the attention he drew to himself. He tried to thrive on it.
“I’ll leave the stage to the actors.”
Jeremy rested his hand on Max’s waist. “Ha. Don’t encourage us.”
Max smiled and pressed his forehead against Jeremy’s. “Anyway, I had fun tonight. I love doing edgy makeup.”
“You’re not wearing any makeup now.”
“I just showered.”
“I can’t decide if you look more like yourself with a naked face or with the eyeliner and stuff.”
Max laughed. “Like when you got contacts? It took me a while to adjust to you without glasses.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Jeremy smoothed Max’s hair out of his face. He was close enough that Max could see the affection in his smile. “Either way, you’re handsome.”
Max tried to shrug away from Jeremy’s hand, but Jeremy held firm.
“You are handsome, Max. I know you don’t believe that. But I love looking at your face.”
Max closed his eyes and leaned into Jeremy’s touch.
Jeremy kissed him softly, slowly sucking Max’s bottom lip between his teeth. Max hooked a hand behind Jeremy’s head and deepened the kiss with a sigh.
It should have been awkward. They’d never had a relationship like this, never talked about how they found each other attractive, never crossed the line from friendship to sex. But crossing the line felt just right, and it wasn’t awkward. Max felt safe with Jeremy. And he knew Jeremy didn’t judge him, or if he did, he liked what he saw.
Max needed this man in his life.
They were both naked. Max shifted closer to Jeremy and saw that he hadn’t bothered with pajamas. His skin was powdery soft, and Max’s hands and limbs slid across it easily. Max hooked his leg around Jeremy’s hip until they touched from collarbone to cock. He started a slow grind, rolling his hips in a teasing rhythm until Jeremy glared at him in frustration, then palmed his ass with one hand and took both their cocks in the other. He leaned his forehead against Max’s, staring into his eyes as he rubbed their dicks together.
Jeremy kissed deeply, like he was trying to devour Max, then gasped, “God, I want to be inside you.”
Max wanted that, too. He rolled his hips again. “Yes. Please. Let’s.”
Jeremy laughed raggedly, his chest vibrating against Max’s. “I, uh, went through your nightstand drawer a few nights ago.”
He jerked away. “Oh, god.” His face was on fire.
“You didn’t have condoms so I bought some. Good lube, though.”
He buried his face in Jeremy’s neck.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Maxie. I want us to do this. I wanted to be prepared. And, yeah, I found your hot pink dildo and the porn DVD in there, but that only made me hotter for you.”
Jeremy hadn’t called Max “Maxie” in years; it was an old childhood nickname and the sort of thing Max wouldn’t tolerate from anyone but Jeremy. Max’s voice hadn’t dropped until he was well into high school, and his features had a feminine softness to them, so the asshole jocks in his gym class had called him Maxine, which he still didn’t care for. But there’d been something endearing about Jeremy calling him Maxie.
So now Max pulled away slightly and whispered in Jeremy’s ear, “Get me ready.”
“Yes. Yes.”
The act of telling secrets in the dark made Jeremy want to give Max everything. He wanted to say that he suspected Max had been harboring feelings for him for a long time. Max’s affection for Jeremy was in part what kept him from going back to Ryan, because whatever residual feelings Jeremy had for his ex, it was nothing compared to what he felt for Max now.
Because he and Max had been friends forever. They knew nearly everything about each other, and anything they didn’t know, they seemed to be confessing to each other this week. And Jeremy was falling for Max hard enough that he hoped there was a soft landing.
Even finally sinking into Max’s body felt a bit like a secret. And this was a line that, once crossed, could not be uncrossed, because Max was hot and tight and being inside him felt like magic.
Jeremy pressed Max into the mattress and hooked Max’s legs around his arms. They both breathed hard. He wanted to savor the exquisite sensation of Max’s taking his cock. He thrust in slowly, watching Max’s face as much as he could in the dark. Was this good, too much, not enough? Max threw his head back, grunting and moaning as Jeremy fucked him, and his own cock was hard and bounced between them. That was good; Jeremy wanted to make sure Max enjoyed this.
Jeremy looked his fill, drinking in the details of Max’s face, his body, the planes of his chest, the gentle slope of the muscles on his arms, the fan of dark hair across his chest. If Jeremy hadn’t been buried deep in Max’s body just then, he might have fallen at the floor to worship at Max’s feet, because Max was amazing and Jeremy didn’t feel like he deserved him.
All these years. How had Jeremy never seen it before? Learning this new side to Max, this new place their relationship could go, was a revelation.
“I love this,” Jeremy whispered. “Your body is so hot.” But those words were inadequate to explain how Jeremy felt.
Max bit his lip and looked up at Jeremy. Their eyes met. There wasn’t really much that needed to be said. It was right there in Max’s eyes, in the intensity of his gaze, in the tension of Max’s facial muscles, betraying that he was about to fly apart.
And there was deep affection there, too. Love, perhaps.
Jeremy kissed him, in part because the intensity of that gaze was making its way into Jeremy’s very soul, and he wasn’t ready for it. He did love Max, more than he loved anyone else in his life, but all of this was new and different. And surprising, because suddenly Jeremy was hovering at the edge of an orgasm and Max did something with his ass that squeezed Jeremy even more.
“Jesus, I’m gonna come,” Jeremy gasped.
“God, me too.”
Max put his arms around him and pressed him close. There wasn’t space for Jeremy to get a hand between them to stroke Max’s cock, but apparently it didn’t matter, because Max dug his nails into Jeremy’s back, a sure sign Max was getting close.
Jeremy closed his eyes and let go. He stopped thinking. He focused only on what it felt like to be inside Max, on the adrenaline zipping through his body, on the heat and tingly skin and excitement of being with Max in this way.
He kept pumping his hips, needing more friction, not quite there...and it was like his lizard brain took over and all he could do was grasp at Max, to fuck him senseless, to feel every goddamned bit of magic between them. He sank his teeth into Max’s shoulder, and Max cried out, shouting Jeremy’s name, the syllables like music on Max’s tongue. And then Jeremy was coming inside Max, clutching him tightly, losing part of himself in Max’s flesh.
Max was right behind him, thrusting up to meet Jeremy, holding Jeremy close, mumbling, “There...there...” then spilling against Jeremy’s abdomen.
Jeremy was jelly afterward, laying on top of Max, then sliding out of him. The condom was an itchy irritant on his oversensitive skin, and still he couldn’t move. Max stroked his back, perhaps not eager for him to move, either.
Jeremy opened his mouth and then realized he was about to tell Max he loved him. And Jeremy did love Max, but the sexual component of their relationship was so new that Jeremy couldn’t swear it was romantic love. He didn’t want to say anything until he was sure of his feelings. So he closed his mouth again.
“Jer.”
“Maxie.”
“God, that was good.”
Jeremy chuckled, and the vibrations shifted his body just enough that he was uncomfortable. With great reluctance, he rolled off Max and then stumbled out of bed. “Sorry, I gotta...”
But Max was right behind him. Max guided Jeremy out of the bedroom and to the bathroom.
“Close your eyes,” Max said.
Jeremy complied, but sensed the moment Max flipped the bathroom light on. Jeremy didn’t want to open his eyes lest he break the spell. He took care of the condom, but had to peek through slits to find the trashcan. Then Max cleaned them both up, flipped the light back off, and guided Jeremy back to bed.
“You might be the sweetest man I know,” Jeremy said as he climbed back into bed.
“That’s a funny thing to say to someone you just fucked.”
“Still. The way you take care of me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“You make me feel safe,” Max said, as if that were an answer.
And Jeremy’s heart nearly broke.
Because that was what two gay boys who felt like outsiders in their hometown had needed more than anything. Safety.
“I feel safe with you, too.”
“I can be myself.”
“Same.”
Max sighed and adjusted his weight on the bed. “Maybe I should have told you sooner how I felt. That I had the crush, I mean.”
“I might not have been ready to hear it yet. And I don’t want you to regret anything. We’re together now, aren’t we?”
“Are we?”
There was an accusatory edge to Max’s question, but Jeremy knew he was probably feeling vulnerable and defensive. Because he knew Max, probably better than Max knew himself. So he knew Max needed reassurance, and he told Max the truth. “I want a real relationship with you.”
“You do?” There was a real question in Max’s tone.
“I do.” Jeremy stroked Max’s hair, trying to be reassuring. “I’m past just wanting to see where this goes. I want us to be together. We’re good together.”
Max snuggled close to Jeremy. “I want that, too.”
“Why do I hear a ‘but’?”
“It’s all very new. Too new to make promises, maybe.”
“Don’t doubt me, Max.”
Max sighed. “I don’t.”
He nestled his face near Jeremy’s neck and held tight. But he still didn’t sound convinced.