[The fingers in his hair are teasing, a promise of what they could do but Michael’s breath hitches all the same. He wants this. He wants Max so bad he’s aching for him. No one pushes his buttons like the man in front of him, for good and bad. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so fucking hot.]

You better not stop giving me shit, Evans. [He smirks, popping open the button of Max’s jeans with deft fingers, aware that Max was still waiting for an answer.]

Make me yours. Make it so I can’t get this anywhere else. Claim me if you want me.

[Even as he says the words he knows things will never be the same after tonight. He won’t be able to look at Max without remembering this, the raw need and desire in his eyes, the way his body fits so perfectly against Michael’s, his mouth taking him apart slowly and maddeningly.]

Fuck Max, I need you. I need you so bad.