Happy Birthday, Maxxie

[noonelaughed]

It hasn't actually been that long since the last proper party on the island, but Chris can't help but feel like it's been fuckin' ages or something, what with all that's happened between then and now. If he's honest about it, they've probably got more to mourn than to celebrate, what with how the island's fucked with all of their lives lately,

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[well_yeah_but]

There's a fever pulsing beneath Tony's skin, hot and fast like the music bouncing off the rounded cave walls in an endless echo. Last that Chris did this, threw one of the vast and bright parties he's so gifted at, it had been for Tony's benefit. Even like this, full up with sensation, Tony can recognise the irony that it's Maxxie's soiree which comes more easily to him.

Or maybe it isn't ironic at all. Maybe it's appropriate.

It feels familiar now to step up behind Maxxie and find the sway of those hips with his hands, to pull them back into the cradle of his own. "I have a gift for you," he murmurs hot against the flushed shell of Maxxie's ear.

[dancin_maxxie]

He leans back against the body and knows within a second that it's Tony. Every inch of him that touches him screams out at the familiarity of his body, and for a dizzying moment, Maxxie believes that it really doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Tony could fuck him again, right there, and he can't think of a single reason why it should matter.

It isn't any kind of stark realization of the truth that makes his brain jump from that track, only the fact that he's been well seen to just this afternoon. Max is always eager for more, but he's sated enough that he can tilt his head back against Tony's shoulder with a lazy grin, body still swaying with the music, and not immediately think of sex.

"Yeah you fucking do," he chuckles. "It's my birthday."

[well_yeah_but]

"Every good little boy ought to get what he wants on his birthday," Tony replies, and slides a hand around to rest against Maxxie's bare abdomen as he peers down into that self-satisfied face. "Have you been a good boy, Maxwell?"

The answer is surely a resounding no, but as it's Maxxie's birthday, it's also his prerogative to lie.

[dancin_maxxie]

The laugh comes out sharp and short, his shoulders gently shaking with silent amusement after the fact. It's so ridiculous a question, Maxxie can't look Tony in the eye for a second.

"That's Christmas," he argues when he regains himself, turning as he speaks, their bodies just as close as before, his lips maybe brushing over the hollow of Tony's throat, or maybe that was just how it looked from the wrong angle. "I get what I want on my birthday. No matter what."

[well_yeah_but]

Tony's hands move of their own volition. His fingertips slide over damp skin, slip over the smooth plane of Maxxie's hip and up, up, pushing firm over chest and long neck to splay over the sharp arch of jaw. The other boy feels hot, alive, and Tony wants with an irrepressible fury that only flares up like this when he's high.

"And what is that?" he asks, heedless of who might be watching as he leans in first with his mouth and then follows with his hips. Not a kiss, but nearly, all hot breath and parted lips.

[dancin_maxxie]

He feels something rise within him, coaxed along by the steady upward path of Tony's hands, like the other boy is pulling it up out of him. It's not a painful thing, but like he's lighting up.

Maxxie grins and bites his lip, lashes resting low as he gazes at Tony's lips. His gaze flickers up, dark and blue. "My present," he replies lightly. His hands rest on Tony's hips as he rises up on his toes, cheating closer by inches. "Give it to me, Tony."

[well_yeah_but]

Fortunately for them both, Tony isn't more far gone than he already is. For a brief, dizzying moment Maxxie's gaze sears through him so thoroughly that Tony nearly obliges and bends him over right there across the arm of his birthday throne.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tony asks, his voice gone suddenly soft and unsteady. He casually snakes a hand between their bodies and presses the pad of his thumb against the front of Maxxie's trousers. "Everyone watching? For everyone to see?"

[dancin_maxxie]

"Fuck everyone," he says in a low, throaty laugh. It's got its appeal, that image, but Maxxie would need to have some sense of inhibition left in him for it to be at all titillating. Now, he doesn't give of fuck. He nuzzles up along Tony's jaw, teeth ghosting along his neck, and kiss his way to his ear.

"I love you," Maxxie murmurs. "Fuck everyone else."

[well_yeah_but]

The words go straight to Tony's head, hit him hard down low in the pit of his stomach, hook his hips forward with a jerk. The world comes suddenly roaring back to life around them, hot and vibrant and pulsing up through their feet, and before Tony realises it, he's moving through the wash of it, a hand clamped over Maxxie's slender wrist behind him.

Right now. He needs this right fucking now.

[dancin_maxxie]

[Continued here]