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slashthedrabble Mar. 8th, 2006 08:54 pm)
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Childhood Secrets
by Snow
Max/Michael
Roswell
NC/17
200 words
Not Mine. No Harm. No Foul.
Michael started coming to his room when they were ten. Climbing up over the windowsill after Max had lifted the glass and lying down in the sleeping bag Max tossed out on the floor. A secret they kept from everyone, even Isabel. And sometimes it was perfectly natural for Michael to end up in Max’s bed, sleeping next to him. Holding him after Max had healed every bruise, every cut. Once a broken arm, once a cracked rib.
“You need to get out of there.” Max had whispered at thirteen.
“I can’t.” Michael had wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand.
“I’m going to tell someone.” Max had growled at fifteen.
“You can’t.” Michael had shrugged and pretended to sleep.
Max didn’t remember when the spooning had led to hard-ons. He didn’t remember when touching Michael to calm him down, to soothe him, had turned to stroking. He didn’t remember who kissed whom first.
“You need, we need to stop doing this.” Max groaned at seventeen. His face pressed down in the pillow, his fingers flexing on the sheets.
“We can’t.” Michael’s lips moved against Max’s shoulder. His hips moved faster, his cock thrusting deeper.
by Snow
Max/Michael
Roswell
NC/17
200 words
Not Mine. No Harm. No Foul.
Michael started coming to his room when they were ten. Climbing up over the windowsill after Max had lifted the glass and lying down in the sleeping bag Max tossed out on the floor. A secret they kept from everyone, even Isabel. And sometimes it was perfectly natural for Michael to end up in Max’s bed, sleeping next to him. Holding him after Max had healed every bruise, every cut. Once a broken arm, once a cracked rib.
“You need to get out of there.” Max had whispered at thirteen.
“I can’t.” Michael had wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand.
“I’m going to tell someone.” Max had growled at fifteen.
“You can’t.” Michael had shrugged and pretended to sleep.
Max didn’t remember when the spooning had led to hard-ons. He didn’t remember when touching Michael to calm him down, to soothe him, had turned to stroking. He didn’t remember who kissed whom first.
“You need, we need to stop doing this.” Max groaned at seventeen. His face pressed down in the pillow, his fingers flexing on the sheets.
“We can’t.” Michael’s lips moved against Max’s shoulder. His hips moved faster, his cock thrusting deeper.
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*hugs*
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Max taking care of Michael. *happy sigh* Lovely!
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And yes yes ... they were very pretty together. Wish they'd do something *now*.
:)
*hugs*
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