You Clicked Your Heels and Wished for Me, Across the Universe, Max/Jude, PG
Title: You Clicked Your Heels and Wished for Me
Fandom: Across the Universe
Pairing: Max/Jude
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine! Just torturing them for a bit!
Notes: May Madness, Day 2! <333 to my ever indulgent holycitygirl. It's horribly depressing because that's how I roll, but this was my first go at them.
Max is never the same after, and Jude can see it the moment he steps back from his embrace: the grin is there, but his eyes are clouded. Older somehow. He's lost his recklessness, the light that had first drawn him to the blond man, now sitting beside him, slouched low on the couch, horrifyingly thin, and so slow to laugh that he's practically unrecognizable.
"I'm glad you came back," Max says as Jude examines the way his skin stretches taut against each of Max's ribs, the concave dip of his stomach. Jude drags fingers still dirt-stained from the shipping yard, calloused from the kind of work Max will never know, and Jude is overwhelmed with the feeling that somehow Max still got dealt the worse hand.
"I'm glad you came back, too," Jude tells him, whispering against his shoulder, and Max's arms wrap around him, not as strong as they used to be, but with no less conviction, and on Sadie's old and broken couch, they hold on so that in the morning, there is at least one less piece of themselves missing.
Fandom: Across the Universe
Pairing: Max/Jude
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine! Just torturing them for a bit!
Notes: May Madness, Day 2! <333 to my ever indulgent holycitygirl. It's horribly depressing because that's how I roll, but this was my first go at them.
Max is never the same after, and Jude can see it the moment he steps back from his embrace: the grin is there, but his eyes are clouded. Older somehow. He's lost his recklessness, the light that had first drawn him to the blond man, now sitting beside him, slouched low on the couch, horrifyingly thin, and so slow to laugh that he's practically unrecognizable.
"I'm glad you came back," Max says as Jude examines the way his skin stretches taut against each of Max's ribs, the concave dip of his stomach. Jude drags fingers still dirt-stained from the shipping yard, calloused from the kind of work Max will never know, and Jude is overwhelmed with the feeling that somehow Max still got dealt the worse hand.
"I'm glad you came back, too," Jude tells him, whispering against his shoulder, and Max's arms wrap around him, not as strong as they used to be, but with no less conviction, and on Sadie's old and broken couch, they hold on so that in the morning, there is at least one less piece of themselves missing.