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max is pretty sure that daniel is into him.
but daniel is incredibly charming and flirts as easy as he breathes. daniel flirts as if career depends on it. max swears he saw him flirt with a girl at a café for a free extra shot of espresso.
so, max is pretty sure that daniel is into him, but there is an eighty percent chance that he is being delusional.
it does not feel like delusion, though, when daniel holds max's head to his chest, fingers rubbing gently over the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck, looking at him with his big eyes full of tenderness it feels almost impossible for his heart to handle. it feels genuine when max draws away from his warmth and daniel chases him, rubbing the crown of his curly head of hair against his shoulder like a puppy that refuses to leave your lap.
it felt real, when daniel knocked on his hotel room door during a storm and said he wasn’t sure if he could sleep alone. he tangled their legs together under the covers as they talked quietly into the night, until daniel fell into a deep sleep mid-sentence.
and nobody would be able to convince him he's delusional now, for thinking that daniel is checking him out. it’s probably extremely dangerous, considering daniel is supposed to be spotting him while he does a chest press, not blatantly staring at the sweat pooling in his chest through his shirt.
daniel isn't the biggest fan of weights in the first place, but he quickly agreed to join max in the gym for them today. he didn't even ask max why he was working out so late in the evening, the gym room in his building being almost a sauna. but max had to take advantage of the few days or hours daniel spends in monaco a month.
max grunts as he lifts, the kind of noise that will have daniel usually laugh at him and call him dramatic. yet, today, daniel's gaze darkens, and max can definitely place this look.
max knows that look, and he knows with certainty that daniel wants to fuck him. today, at least.
max powers through the rest of his set and collapses backwards, boneless, on the bench press, slowing his breathing as daniel busies himself removing the weights from the bar like a good little assistant.
he wonders if he should say something, not that he has any idea what.
hey, should we have sex? yeah. no.
daniel saves max from his own mind, returning with a water bottle and a small towel. max sits up and chugs it. he can feel daniel staring at him, even without turning to look, he knows that he's watching his jawline and his throat as he swallows.
daniel throws him the towel, chuckling a little as it hits max on the face. max rolls his eyes but starts to dry his sweat off his face, but daniel straddles the bench beside him and stops his hand with warm fingers on his wrist, taking the towel back and gently wiping the sweat from his scalp, his forehead, his neck.
daniel massages his thumbs into max's nape and he has to bite back a moan, his lip squeezing between his teeth. he’s not sure why he holds it back, considering it’s already weird, it’s been weird since daniel was staring at his chest earlier.
maybe if he makes it weirder, steps over the boundaries they've been pushing and pushing, this delicate limbo they're in will finally shatter and let them fall, whether it's to hell or to heaven.
so fuck it.
daniel rubs his neck again, without the towel this time, the full girth of his wide palms spread over it. max lets a choked out, breathless sound fall past his lips. daniel does it again, this time a little harder, and max lets out the moan he was holding in.
max can hear his heartbeat in his throat, blood pumping hard enough where daniel is pressing, he wonders if daniel can feel his pulse pounding with the hand still cradling his throat.
max turns deliberately, propping a knee on the bench between daniel's legs as he stares back into his blown out pupils. "are you okay?”
daniel chews his lip. max stares at his swollen, bitten mouth, already shiny and red from his sharp teeth. he lets daniel catch him staring, doesn't look away the way they usually do when they stare at each other's lips.
"i don't-”
“don't overthink it." max raises himself up to get to daniel's eye level, to put a hand on his shoulder, his thigh presses further between daniel’s legs.
daniel doesn't pull away, he stays where he is and lets max pull him closer, smoothing a hand over his shorts to try and hide the growing tent in them, like max could ever stop staring at it.
"sorry."
"it’s okay." max says, licking his lips and searching with daniel’s eyes with his, “me too.”
daniel raises his head then he finally makes a move, his hand sneaking down from max’s neck to his chest, fingers twitching as he holds himself back, holding his hand to his wildly beating heart.
"hey," max whispers. daniel’s hand doesn't move, he presses down slightly but that’s it, his eyes fixated on max’s face like he’s waiting for a reaction.
he lets daniel pull his hand back, watches something shift in daniel's eyes. they stare at each other for a long moment. something must show on max’s face, because daniel nods and spreads his knees so max is pressing even closer with his legs.
max puts his hand on daniel's exposed inner thigh, gently pushing his legs further apart. he’s wearing tiny little shorts, his tattoos peeking out and winking at him, making max stare without even wanting to. his thighs flex in a way that makes max's mouth water as he slowly, carefully slides his hand further up his leg.
max watches daniel like a hawk for the slightest change in expression. he sees the uncertainty give way to want, to need. he slides his hand up under daniel's shorts and pulls his hard dick through the leg of them, fabric pushed to the crease of his hip as his dick slaps up against his stomach.
"you’re so wet," daniel’s practically leaking onto his shirt, fabric sticking to his fluttering abs as max drags his finger through slick pre-come. daniel whines and his dick throbs as another surge drips onto max's hand.
"sorry." daniel says in between his teeth, apologising is something he can't stop, like flirting. it goes beyond the impressive control he has over his own body, something that exposes his feelings for exactly what they are.
"no," max says, "it’s so hot." the corners of daniel's mouth twitch up into a smile as his dick twitches again in max’s hand.
and it’s incredibly hot, max takes a mental image and stores it in the daniel folder in his brain.
max smears his thumb over the head, unable to look away at how daniel clenches and unclenches with every flick of his wrist. max spits on his free hand, relishing the way daniel's pupils somehow dilate even further, the way his breath hitches. max wraps his spit-slicked palm around the base of daniel’s dick, both hands meeting around his girth.
"you’re perfect." he says, daniel shudders and max can see the muscles in his legs twitch as he struggles not to buck up in his hands. "fuck, it’s so hot.”
daniel's eyes are already glazing over, lips parted, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion. "want to touch you too."
max is tempted to say no for a second, he wants to stay with both hands around daniel’s dick forever, but he has enough trouble saying no to daniel on a normal day, let alone when his eyes are shining with lust and every inch of him is shaking.
he nods and daniel nearly lunges towards him, pulling his body closer with one arm as his other hand goes straight for his chest, pawing at his tits until his nipples start to harden through sweat-drenched cloth. max can't complain about his neglected dick, not when daniel is almost drooling feeling him up.
max slows in his hand as daniel slips a warm hand under the collar of his top, stretching it out without a care in the world as he feels the outline of his chest, tracing the edge of his tits to where they meet the junction of his armpit.
he flexes experimentally and daniel's dick jumps in his hands as his fingers squeeze his bicep. daniel stares at him with his mouth open, a nervous tongue wetting his lips.
max smiles a little because he can’t help it, gets his sticky hand in daniel’s hair and pulls him closer. daniel leans into his palm even as his hair begins to get messy, desperate for more rather than disgusted.
max lays back down on the bench, letting his legs hang off the side. he leans up to watch daniel, fiddles with the hem of his top next to his hard dick, "this what you wanted, daniel?”
daniel nods aggressively and grabs his dick so tightly at the base it looks like it hurts. his shaky breathing evens a bit as he guides his dick down until the head is rubbing up against max's armpit.
"you’re disgusting,” max says, not meaning it, watching as daniel’s eyes get dark and he almost fucking grins. he responds with a grunt as he ruts against him, too desperate to say anything witty back.
“christ," daniel's dick slips under the sleeve of max's top and whines.
daniel grabs his arm hard enough to bruise, fingers gripping tightly as if he has to guarantee that max stays where he is. max groans at the feeling, making daniel’s hips stutter and his lips pull into a smile finally.
max feels crazy, at daniel’s mercy, even though he’s the one that’s supposed to be in control, even though daniel is the one panting and puffing on top of max. it’s overwhelming, he feels possessed by the urge to pull daniel into a kiss, to whisper into his lips over and over how hot he is, how much he’s turning max on.
he doesn't though, he gets hold of his top and pushes it up until his abs are exposed, leaving his chest covered. "this good?" he pushes his elbows together in front of him and flexes his tits together.
"fuck, yeah." daniel looks so good when he’s flustered like this, his pupil blown and lips shiny red, max saves it for his folder as well. “can i cum on your tits?" a half-second passes. "please, max?"
max gulps but he doesn't miss a beat, "yeah."
daniel scrambles off the bench and straddles max's torso, standing above him until max grabs his hips and pulls him down to sit properly. "it’s fine," he’s strong enough to lift daniel if he wants to, and daniel suddenly seems very aware of that fact.
daniel swallows thickly and carefully lifts the hem of max's top, sliding his dick beneath the fabric and between his tits finally. he rocks his hips experimentally, the tip of his dick bumping against max's jaw on a full thrust. he doesn't put his whole weight on max, rubbing off against his cleavage.
max leaves one hand on daniel's hips, finally slipping a hand beneath his own waistband and holding himself. max groans in relief and pent up tension, and daniel shivers on top of him.
daniel leans forward and props his hands on both sides of the bench, shifting his weight as sweat drips from his collarbone onto max’s face. there’s something so endearing about the fact that he's still so careful not to crush max even when he's rutting so erratically against him, his wet dick soaking and mixing in the sweat between max’s pecs.
max's boxers cling unpleasantly to his hand, slick with his pre-come and daniel’s and his spit, as he strokes himself slowly, not really in a rush to get anywhere.
he could match daniel's pace, but his blood burns hot at the contrast of their movements, daniel’s desperate and panting, and max is just letting him do whatever he wants, he’s pliant and accepting, lost in daniel’s dark eyes.
daniel is all over him, caging him with his body, but he's the one acting like he's trapped, not max. acting like he can’t move away even if he wanted to. it makes the edges of max’s mind feel fuzzy, even as his focus sharpens and he studies daniel’s every reaction, every sound he can pull from daniel, every lick and bite of his lips.
and daniel is a fucking sight, dark red lips parted in a perpetual pant, arms shaking, honeyed skin shimmering with sweat. he flushes so beautifully and max wonders how he would look like if he was riding max, their hips joined as they move together. he lets fantasy slip into reality and squeezes daniel's ass through his shorts, hard.
daniel freezes. max almost starts to apologise, to sneak away and crawl into the shower.
but daniel moves, hand braced on max's shoulder as he grows impossibly harder, ducking his head with a whimper when max gropes him again. daniel seems surprised at how suddenly he comes, spilling into max's cleavage. a couple ropes shoot over max's shoulder to splatter down the length of the bench, translucent white on black leather, more than max's ever seen anyone else come in his life.
max is content with not chasing his own pleasure. he has more than enough material to play back in his mind during his showers, during the slow nights in his hotel room. but daniel cups his face in his hand and sticks his tongue in max’s mouth like he’s starving, licking over max’s teeth and shoving his way in while max tries not to choke on their mixed spit.
max has his hand half out of his pants when he comes, struck by the sheer force of the wave of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him.
daniel pulls away and scoots back to give max more room to breathe, practically straddling his lap. he stares at max, at his heaving chest, at the come smeared near his nipples, dick softening on top of max’s abs.
he stands up, not quite slowly enough to seem like he's not running away. "you should shower."
max's reflex is to protest, to cuddle close to daniel and fall asleep together in the bench, instead, he takes a deep breath, “yeah.”
daniel doesn't say anything. or at least he tries not to, but shakes his head and laughs, shooing max off towards the gym showers.
he half expects daniel to join him, is half disappointed when he does not. max washes everything away, all except for the finger-shaped bruises over his pecs and arms.
he thinks about daniel’s dark eyes as he asked to come on his tits and he swears he feels his dick give a feeble throb.
daniel is gone by the time max leaves the shower, the scent of disinfectant wipes so thick it stings his eyes. daniel's hoodie is still there, neatly folded on top of the spotless bench press. max slips it on and makes his way up to his apartment.