Full Circle

 (sequel to Firsts)
By Tasyfa

Author's email: tasyfa@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell are the property of Twentieth Century Fox Television and Regency Productions. All original characters and concepts are the property of the author. No profit has been made from the distribution of this work of fiction.
Category: Max/Liz/Michael; includes slash.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Max, Liz and Michael have finally all come together in love. But relationships are hard enough when only two people are involved; when there are three of you, things can definitely get interesting!

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Chapter 1

The Evans family was gathered around the dinner table, nearly finished their Saturday evening meal. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had been glancing at each other throughout in a silent communication that years of marriage had perfected. Finally Mrs. Evans spoke up.

"So, what are you kids doing tonight?" she asked cheerfully. Max and Isabel exchanged a glance.

"Mom, we're both eighteen. We're not kids anymore," Isabel protested rhetorically.

"We're just hanging out, you know, the eight of us. We're meeting up at the Crashdown after Maria, Liz and Michael are done their dinner shift," Max answered his mother.

"Oh. That's nice, honey. You—um, you and Michael have been spending more time together lately. I guess you worked out whatever it was that came between you," Mrs. Evans said carefully. Max swallowed the food in his mouth, feeling it hit his stomach like lead.

"Yeah," he replied shortly. Mrs. Evans looked at Mr. Evans appealingly and he sighed.

"Max, you know Mrs. Veetahave, right?"

"Of course, Dad. She's only lived next door for eight years. She was the only person who was allowed to give us fruit at Halloween," Max responded. "Look, what is this about?"

"Honey, Mrs. Veetahave was up last night getting some water, and she—saw Michael going in your window. She, um, she," Mrs. Evans trailed off.

"Well, you know how curious she is, so she went to get her hearing aid. She said she heard some…odd sounds coming through your open window," Mr. Evans finished. Isabel's lips were twitching like mad and the tips of Max's ears were a brilliant red.

"Oh. She did. That was just—you know Michael, he's always come over when he couldn't sleep. We were, um," Max frantically searched his brain for any kind of explanation. "We're studying Camelot in English right now, and Michael sort of…well, he decided it would be fun to have a sword fight, like we were Arthur and Lancelot. You know, like how we used to play Star Wars, only—not with sabers."

Max could feel his face reddening with every word. What had possessed him to say that? He knew even before he looked at his parents that they would know he was lying through his teeth. But what could he say? He, Michael and Liz weren't even sure of the parameters of their relationship yet; there was no way he could explain it to his parents.

"Uh-huh. Max, honey, I found this on your floor this morning when I picked up your laundry. Can you explain how it got there?" Mrs. Evans said, her voice somehow warm and anxious at the same time. She passed something to Max and the color drained from his face as quickly as it had appeared. His mother had just given him Liz's black satin thong.

"I—I don't—I," Max stammered. Isabel took pity on him and tried to come to the rescue.

"That's mine, Mom. It must have gotten mixed in with Max's laundry when I did the wash earlier in the week," Isabel took the thong from Max, folding it into her hand. Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged another glance, and Mrs. Evans placed her hand on Max's arm.

"Max, you know that you can come to us with anything. We love you, sweetheart," she said softly. Max was unable to look at her; he knew she hadn't believed Isabel any more than she had the ludicrous sword fight story. He also knew who she thought the thong belonged to, and it wasn't Isabel…or Michael.

"When I have something to tell you, Mom, you'll be the first to know, all right?" Max declared, his tone indicating that the subject was closed. Mrs. Evans sighed, nodding, and patted his arm before getting up to clear the table. Once that was done, she and Mr. Evans left Max and Isabel alone in the kitchen, going out to the back yard to sit with a glass of wine as was their custom in the summer.

Isabel handed the thong back to Max and he stuffed it in his pocket dejectedly then rested his forehead against his steepled hands. Seeing how upset he was, Isabel quashed her natural instinct to tease him mercilessly. There would be time enough for that later; now he needed her support.

"It's—don't worry about it, Max. Look on the bright side—if they'd been able to hear anything over their air conditioner they wouldn't just be suspicious, they would know. Besides, they're not going to care about it," she said reassuringly.

"I think they just made that abundantly clear, Iz," Max snorted. "What would I even tell them, though? What am I doing—what are we doing? Am—am I gay? Or bi, whatever," he grimaced.

Isabel sighed. "I don't know, Max, I can't really answer that for you. What I do know is…you're in love with both of them. I see it when you're together, we all do. And I know that you've never reacted to any guy like you do to Michael, right from when we were little. I used to wonder, you know, if there was another reason why Michael came over in the middle of the night. Not just to get away from Hank, but specifically to be with you. You've always made him feel safe, Max. He bucks your authority because—well, because he's Michael," she smiled, "but he would never willingly do anything to hurt you, and it's always been that way. Always."

"I, uh, I thought he would be more freaked by this whole situation, actually. I mean, he's in a relationship with two people now. But he seems to be totally taking it in stride, which is making it harder for me somehow."

"Max, do you know what an epiphany is? I'm talking a real epiphany, not a Eureka moment," she clarified.

"More or less. What exactly do you mean?"

"A true epiphany is a moment of absolute clarity, Max, when the truth reveals itself to you in the most profound way and it changes you forever. You had an epiphany when you chose to heal Liz. You saw her on the floor and realized she was injured, perhaps dying, and in that moment you found a truth greater than any you had ever known: you loved Liz Parker too much to let her die. And it changed everything."

"Yeah, it did. And I'd do it again, even knowing what would happen later. But what's that got to do with Michael?"

"Michael's had two epiphanies of his own lately—one named Max and one named Liz. Maybe he just needed that extra level of love from you, or maybe it's because of Liz because God knows, loving her certainly changed you! But Michael—I don't think he is going to freak, Max. It's strange, but I think he is more comfortable with himself now—feels more like he's worth something—than he ever has. It's—all right, this does NOT ever get mentioned again, but when I walked in on you last night you looked natural together. ALL together. Something about the three of you just clicks. And I suppose that technically you'd be classified as bisexual but…I can't really see you with any other guy. I've seen you check out girls before, but never guys. I think it's just Michael. I know I'm not explaining myself too well, I just know what I think and how I feel when I look at you together," Isabel said hesitantly, watching Max for his reaction. Max had a small smile on his lips.

"When did you get so observant?" he asked teasingly.

"Loving Alex will do that to a person," Isabel smiled. "Anyway, Max, as weird as this seems sometimes, you know you can always talk to me about it, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Izzy."

"Um, while we're being all open and sharing, did you—have you and Michael, um, made love? I'm just—I'm curious," she held her hand out at his flash of shock. Max smiled wryly.

"Yeah, we have. Once each," he forestalled her next question.

"What was it like? Was it different than with Liz?"

"Well, yes and no. It's hard to describe, Iz. One way is—not so different, and the other way is completely new. It was…beautiful," Max said shyly. Isabel smiled inwardly at the wondering look on his face; she remembered it well from after his first explorations with Liz.

"We should get ready to go now," Isabel said as she rose. She turned to leave then turned back to Max, her lips twitching again as she tried not to smile. "You know, I think M.A.C.'s Twig would be perfect for you."

"What's that? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, M.A.C. is a brand name, and Twig is the perfect shade of lipstick for you," she said gleefully. Max's eyes snapped to hers and his cheeks reddened as he started to stand.

"That completely made up for seeing Michael naked," she gloated and ran for her room, Max on her heels. Isabel got there just in time to slam the door in his face.

"Isabel, open the door! You are so going to die for that comment!" Max pounded on the door, red-faced but smiling. He could hear his sister laughing in her room.

"Oh, now there's an incentive to open the door, so you can kill me!"

"Open it now, or else!"

"Or else what, Max? What're you going to do?" she snorted. He thought for a second.

"Or…I will…I'll convince Alex he's dating the wrong Evans!" Max said triumphantly, deliberately trying to get a rise out of her. It worked; she flung open the door.

"You leave my Alex alone! You've got your own boyfriend; if you want sex or something call Michael!" Isabel told him, her sparkling eyes belying her haughty tone. They both started to laugh and then Max froze, hearing a soft gasp. He turned his head slightly and there were both of his parents, having come back inside. Oh, shit.

"Iz, let me in," he said urgently and she stepped back, allowing him to enter the room. Max immediately closed and locked the door, leaning his back against it. He closed his eyes as he heard the hesitant knock he'd been expecting.

"I don't want to talk about it now, Mom," he called out.

"Max, son, we love you no matter what," came Mr. Evans deep voice.

"And—and Michael, too," Mrs. Evans added. Max was clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides.

"Fine. Thank you. Goodbye," he said harshly, listening for their footfalls as they moved away. At last the sound dwindled to nothing and Max levered himself off the door.

"Finish getting ready and meet me at the Jeep," he commanded as he headed for Isabel's window, flinging it open and climbing out, to disappear around the house. Max felt like the world's biggest coward, but he could not face his parents right now. Not when he couldn't understand what was going on himself.

He was a freak. He'd always been one, a half-human, half-alien hybrid. Apparently now he was half each of something else, too, and Max suddenly didn't know how to deal with any of it. Every time he thought he had made peace with who and what he was, something happened that forced him to question everything. This time, it had been making love to Michael.

Max slumped in the passenger seat of the Jeep, waiting for his sister and thinking about the previous night. He'd told Isabel the truth: it wasn't that different, making love to Michael as opposed to Liz. Their first time together, when it had been Michael's cock inside Max, it had been different. Something totally new and unknown, and dear God, loving. But last night Max could have made love to Liz. His soul mate; his other half. The ying to his yang. Instead he had chosen Michael, who was…what? What role did Michael play in his life now? And what did loving him the way that he did say about Max?

He looked up briefly as Isabel came out of the house and climbed in beside him. Before she started the engine, she turned to Max.

"You have to talk to them, Max," she insisted softly.

"Yeah, I know. I will, I just—can't do it right now," he confessed.

"No, I mean Liz and Michael. Mom and Dad are content to wait until you're ready to tell them. They said they'd made their point, that it doesn't matter and they still love you, and that the rest is up to you."

"Isn't it always?" Max said bitterly, so low that Isabel almost didn't hear him.

"Don't. Don't you dare sink into self-pity, Max, you hear me? People go through entire lifetimes waiting to love someone with all of their being, and you've found two someones. Not one but two people who love you and need you like they need air. So one of them's male. And so you got shafted by being a reborn King. So what? Isn't having Michael and Liz worth that?" Isabel declared with finality. Max half-smiled and reclined in the seat, relaxing a little as she started the Jeep and pulled out of the driveway.

"Yeah…so what. It is worth it, Iz. It's worth everything."

Max and Isabel entered the back door of the Crashdown, seeing Maria, Alex, Kyle and Tess standing around. Isabel immediately went to Alex for a hug and kiss, and Max sat down on the sofa just as Michael emerged from the bathroom. Their eyes met and Max felt his insides melting at the smile Michael gave him before he sat down beside Max. Maria watched them with a smile, a slightly speculative look on her face.

"What's up?" Michael asked. He could feel the tension radiating off Max in waves. Isabel turned towards them and spoke.

"Oh, nothing much. Mrs. Veetahave outed you two to Mom and Dad this afternoon; she saw you climb into Max's window and later on heard noise," Isabel related matter-of-factly.

"What? What did you say to your parents?" Michael demanded of Max. He shook his head.

"But Michael's been climbing in Max's window for years, and she's never mentioned it before. Why would she say something now? Especially when she needs to put her hearing aid back in to hear any noises!" Maria exclaimed.

Michael narrowed his eyes in sudden understanding. "I was still standing in the window when you…well, I just was."

Max groaned. "That's right! That was Liz's fault."

"What was my fault?" Liz asked as she came down the stairs, having changed out of her uniform. Kyle was looking at Max and Michael, his eyes widening.

"Are you saying that you and Evans are—involved? Like, romantically?" Kyle demanded of Michael. Liz smiled at him as she sat on Max's lap, leaning back across Michael so that he was cradling her against his chest.

"Kyle, meet my guys," she said with a brilliant smile. He just stared at the three of them for a long moment, his mind taking note of the subtle body positioning as it had been trained to do by his football coach. There was a comfort level between them that spoke of intimacy. Michael had sat right beside Max and the length of their thighs was pressed together, their hips touching. With Liz sitting on top of them, Michael's supporting arm held her around her shoulders, his hand falling close to her breast. Max's arms were draped across her lap, one hand on her hip, the other on her upper thigh. They looked…

"Oh, for crying out loud. Why doesn't that look more unnatural?" Kyle said disgustedly, eliciting a laugh from everyone except Max. He merely smiled, a vague sadness in his eyes.

"Max, what's wrong?" Tess asked softly, believing that she knew the answer. She knew, better than perhaps anyone else, how much Max struggled with himself over who he was. She had struggled with many of the same questions after she had realized that she loved Kyle, not Max, and that their supposed destiny was meaningless. They had slowly become friends once there was no pressure from any direction to be more than that.

Max just shook his head again. Isabel jumped in. "He's dealing with identity issues. You know. Especially since Mom and Dad made some extra assumptions that aren't even true."

"Isabel, that's private!" Max nearly shouted.

"Max, look around you. These eight people here? That is private. We all know what's going on between the three of you. Well, except Kyle till now. We decided that he needed to see you together with his own eyes before knowing, so that he would keep an open mind," Maria explained with a smile. Max looked around at the five people standing and sitting with him, Michael and Liz, seeing nothing but acceptance. Complete acceptance; not just for sharing Liz but for what he and Michael meant to each other as well. His face must have shown something of his pleased shock because Kyle snorted.

"Look, man, after accepting you guys were aliens this is a walk in the park! Just be happy about it. Now, what assumptions are you talking about, Iz?"

Sighing, Max pulled the thong from his pocket and handed it to Liz. She squealed and smacked him for doing it so publicly.

"Max! You could have waited!"

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make it very clear that that belongs to you," he said ruefully.

"What? Why?"

"Because Mom thinks it's his," Isabel smiled. Max hid his face in his hands as everyone laughed.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. There isn't the slightest thing about your body that's feminine, Max Evans. Except maybe your eyelashes, but that's irrelevant. You certainly wouldn't be caught dead in anything of Liz's," Maria said firmly to murmurs of agreement. Max was smiling but still looking kind of haunted, so Alex decided to take action. He motioned for Liz to get up, which she did, looking confused as she moved out of the way. Alex promptly sat down beside Max. The small size of the sofa, with two male bodies already seated on it, meant that Alex was practically glued to Max's side from knee to shoulder and everywhere in between. To further Max's embarrassed confusion, Alex slung an arm around his shoulders, letting his hand fall on Max's biceps and squeezing the muscles gently as he spoke.

"Max, I am known far and wide as a desirable man," Alex gestured with his free hand as he spoke, not allowing Max to pull away from his side though Max's discomfort was increasing. "I have a legendary prowess in the sack, and,"

"Mmm, he is a really good kisser," Maria smacked her lips in agreement.

"Oh, yeah. Oh, and that little thing he does with his tongue? Ahhh!" Liz pretended to swoon.

"I know that! I looooove that!" Isabel exclaimed. Alex was sporting a huge grin now and the other four people were staring at him with a little more respect.

"As I was saying," Alex continued, "I'm sure that if you really wanted to, you know, explore your sexuality, we could work something out."

Automatically, Max flinched away. Alex crowded in close again and ducked his head, bringing his mouth close to Max's ear.

"Are you sure?" he breathed, blowing gently. Max removed Alex's arm from around his shoulders and shoved Michael as far over as he could go, practically sitting on top of Michael as he moved away from Alex. Alex—and everyone else—laughed.

"Alex, that'd be like cross-contamination. You sleep with my sister!"

"Well, yeah, but that's not really why you moved away. You just don't want me," Alex pouted, the mischief in his eyes spoiling the effect.

"Sorry, but no I don't," Max agreed.

"So…what about Kyle? He's a nice-looking guy, lots of muscles, bit of an attitude unlike my sweet self," Alex posed angelically. Max looked askance at Kyle. Their eyes met and he felt…nothing. He might as well have been looking at Tess' blue eyes instead of Kyle's; neither moved him.

"Nah. Evans had his chance; all he wanted to do was draw on Liz's wall," Kyle drawled with an arrogant half-smile. Max flushed, remembering that Kyle had asked if he was gay the night they'd gotten drunk together. His memory of that night had gradually returned over the months following it.

"Max, you're not gay. You're HMG," Maria said brightly, as if that explained everything.

"What?" Max and Michael said in unison.

"HMG. Hetero plus Michael Guerin. Michael's been outside the rules all his life, why should this one be any different!" Maria laughed.

"HMG," Max rolled the acronym around on his tongue. He smiled at Maria. "I can live with that."

"Good," Michael grunted. He had been afraid to say anything, knowing that he was the source of the problem. Now that Max had seemingly made up his mind, Michael felt comfortable enough to put his arm around Max's shoulders and beckon to Liz with his other hand. Alex rose and went to Isabel as Max snuggled into Michael's shoulder and Liz resumed her position sprawled across them both. She stroked Max's arm soothingly; she had not been able to say anything either, because she was the part of the equation that didn't trouble him. Max smiled at her and squeezed her thigh in thanks. All three of them knew better than to think the issue was completely resolved but for the moment, things were good.

"Now that the immediate crisis has passed, what are we doing?" Alex asked, looking around the group.

"We could go to that new club," Liz suggested to masculine groans.

"I don't do clubs, Liz. You want to go somewhere and dance horizontally, I'm there. Don't ask me to do it vertically," Michael rejected her idea.

"Oh, really? That's not—never mind," Maria broke off as Liz made a face. Michael looked at her sharply. Max did too, then looked at Michael.

"She mentioned a certain type of sport yesterday, too," Max informed him and Michael's eyes narrowed. He looked down at Liz, who wore a somewhat guilty expression.

"Do you tell her everything?" he asked in amazement.

"Well, not quite everything," Liz squirmed under his scrutiny. "Just—highlights. She's my best friend! That's what best friends do."

"How about the movies?" Tess suggested, getting them back on topic.

"Yeah, movies sound fine," Isabel agreed. Everyone else thought it was fine, too. As they gathered themselves to leave, Michael nudged Max.

"Think we should make Liz pay?" he said under his breath. Max was surprised by the question then he saw the twinkle in Michael's eyes and realized that he was referring to their "date," which had resulted in their lovemaking.

"Sure. I can hold up my end of that bargain. You get to tell her what you're talking about, though," Max laughed. He watched Michael walk up to Liz, drawing her apart and speaking to her. When Liz smacked him and told him off, Max grinned. Feeling someone brush against his arm, he glanced down at Maria.

"He just propositioned her with something rude, didn't he? Why didn't you warn him?" she asked.

"I had to learn the hard way. It's no fair if Michael gets off easy," Max declared, still grinning. Maria smiled and linked her arm through his.

"Well yes, but you have a natural gift for it and Michael, as I know only too well, does not," Maria told him. Max slanted a look at her.

"Maria, are you OK with this? Honestly, I mean. I know Liz asked and everything but—I'd like to hear it for myself."

Maria was silent for a long moment, debating with herself about what to say. "Honestly, Max? I think that you and Liz are probably the best thing that's happened to Michael. You, at least, always were. The two of you have always sort of canceled each other out, you know? You think too much and he doesn't think enough, he just acts. It's a karmic balancing act. And Michael and I, we were never good for each other. Sure we were passionate and we cared about each other deeply, but we also made each other feel insecure, inadequate. We kept trying to change each other. You don't do that; you and Isabel both have always just accepted Michael as himself. And now Liz is doing that. Besides, Michael…isn't the type of person that I'm interested in anymore," she concluded vaguely.

Max stopped walking and pulled Maria into his arms, hugging her close for a moment before releasing her and resuming walking. Maria looked at him in surprise.

"What was that for?"

"You're a good friend and I appreciate that," Max smiled when her surprise turned to shock.

"Thanks. You're not too bad yourself, girlfriend—oh, get over it Max! I've been calling you that for a year now, it's hardly related," she rolled her eyes when he winced slightly at the term of affection. "Here comes Michael. Maybe he can disabuse you of this ridiculous notion."

"Disabuse him of what ridiculous notion?" Michael asked, falling into step beside Max.

"Oh, Max was just being sensitive about me calling him girlfriend," Maria said loftily.

"Max is going to be sensitive till the day he dies, Maria," Michael snorted, earning himself a glare from Max. Michael just shrugged, letting the statement stand.

"You knew Liz would blow me off, didn't you?" he asked Max, shaking his head at Max's telltale smile. "Nice, Maxwell. Very nice. You set me up!"

"You came up with the idea. All I did was say I'd play along," Max evaded.

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be helping me with this stuff. You know I suck at it."

"I can vouch for that," Maria muttered. She smiled brightly when Michael glared at her. "I also know enough to be pretty damn sure you can make it up in bed, Michael."

Maria raised her eyebrows when Michael's cheeks took on a pink hue but she said nothing. Michael swung in front of Max, halting their progress. He looked uncomfortable but determined.

"Look, Maxwell," Michael rubbed his lip. "I don't want to screw this up like I do everything else, all right? That Maria and I have managed to stay friends is a miracle in and of itself, but I couldn't go back to being just friends with Liz. Or…or with you," he admitted shyly, looking away from Max.

"I couldn't go back either, Michael. I love you," Max said softly. Michael met his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up. He scuffed a toe along the sidewalk then moved to Maria's other side, sandwiching her by taking her free arm. Maria pulled away from Max and stood on her tiptoes, pressing a light kiss to Michael's cheek. Then she reclaimed Max's arm and the three of them started walking again.

"What was that for?" Michael wanted to know.

"That, my friend, was because I always knew that for an emotional eunuch you've got some big balls!" Maria laughed. Michael's face grew even redder but he laughed along with her and Max, and it was a freer sound than any he had ever made.

The eight friends reached the cinema at last and discussed which movie to watch. As soon as a decision had been reached Michael disappeared, leaving Liz, Max and Maria to wait for him. The other four went on ahead, saying they would wait in the line at the concession stand.

A few minutes later Michael returned with four movie tickets. He gave Maria hers, waving away her proffered money with a smile, but Liz glared at him.

"Weren't you listening?" she demanded.

"Relax. No strings attached," Michael laughed. She smiled and accepted the ticket as Michael turned to Max.

"At least, for Liz," Michael said in a low voice, holding out the last ticket. Max stared at it then looked at Michael, his face flushing at the naked desire in Michael's eyes. Max knew exactly what it was that Michael wanted: inside of him. His lips parted but no answer came out. Slowly, Max reached out and took the ticket from Michael, brushing his fingers tenderly as he withdrew his hand. His breathing picked up even more speed at the gleam of satisfaction in Michael's gaze, and the air was suddenly heavy with promise.

Maria noticed Liz's little smile and reminded herself to breathe. She cleared her throat. "Ahem, unless you guys want this all over school you'd better cool it with the fuck-me looks. We are not the only West Roswell students here tonight."

"Right," Max agreed, embarrassed, while Michael coughed. "Sorry."

"Hey, no need to apologize to me! That almost made me want to do you both!" Maria exclaimed.

"Except that Max is the wrong E—" Liz fell silent.

"The wrong what?" Michael asked, narrowing his eyes. Something clicked for Max.

"You're interested in my sister?" he asked disbelievingly. Maria abruptly discovered that her shoes were absolutely fascinating.

"Well, that explains a few things," Michael said thoughtfully. "On both sides," he amended hastily as Maria glared at him. She softened immediately into a rueful smile.

"Yeah, I guess it does. Including why we're still good friends."

"But Isabel's with Alex," Max couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it.

"I'm not in love with her or anything, Max, and I certainly wouldn't move in on Alex's girlfriend in any case. She just happens to be…my type," Maria stated firmly.

"So what was with Wayne, then? That guy you met?" Liz asked, not particularly surprised by this development.

"Oh, Wayne. He was—hmm, he was denial," Maria admitted. Liz nodded in perfect understanding, then noticed Alex waving frantically at them.

"Oh, the movie's going to start. Come on, we can talk after. You know I love you, right?" she directed to Maria. Maria smiled and linked arms with her best friend, leaving the two men to follow behind them.

"Yep, and I love you right back—platonically," she winked.

They found their seats just as the theater darkened, Liz sitting in between Max and Michael. By about halfway through the movie, they both had their hands on her thighs, inching higher and higher because they were trying to link their fingers together a little bit without being obvious. By the time the movie was over, Liz was no longer paying any attention to it. Every scrap of her awareness was focused on the two warm hands that kept inadvertently caressing her thighs and the moist ache between her legs.

Liz belatedly realized that the rest of the group was standing and rose to her feet, following Max out of the theater. As soon as they were all outside, Isabel asked, "Well, what now guys?"

Liz grabbed Michael and Max's hands. "Actually, we have a lot to talk about so…I think we'll just go home now, if no one minds." Internally she was praying that no one would say anything. Maria came to her rescue.

"Yeah, that's true. You go on then, and figure that stuff out. We'll hang a while longer," she winked at Liz, knowing the real reason for her haste. Liz flashed her a grateful smile and at the murmurs of assent from everyone else, she steered Max and Michael towards Michael's apartment.

Chapter 3

Upon entering the apartment, Liz locked the door then leaned against it, panting. The two men looked at her, concerned.

"Liz, you're in better shape than I am and we didn't walk that fast," Michael commented. "Why are you breathing so hard?"

She rolled her eyes. "Apparently neither of you noticed that while trying to hold hands without looking like you were holding hands, both of you had your hands practically in my lap!"

Max looked more closely at her, seeing her flushed cheeks and bright eyes in a whole new light. "So, you didn't drag us here to talk, then," he concluded.

"Well, partly yes and partly no. Mostly I dragged us here so that we'd have some privacy when I ripped your clothes off," she laughed breathlessly.

"Mine or his?" asked Michael with a smile.

"Yours, his, both; whatever. As you're so fond of saying, I'm flexible!"

"Yeah, we're all—kind of flexible these days," Max remarked tonelessly. Liz and Michael exchanged a glance.

"Max, what exactly is it about our relationship that's bothering you so?" Liz asked gently. Max sighed as he kicked his shoes off and sat on the couch. Michael moved to stand close to him and Liz perched on the coffee table so that she could see both of their faces.

"I—it's hard to explain, even to myself. I just feel so…"

"Different?" Liz supplied, her eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, I guess so," Max agreed, a slight smile gracing his face.

"Do you remember what I said the first time you told me we were different?" Liz prodded.

""I don't care,"" Max quoted, the memory softening his face.

"I didn't care then and I haven't since, Max. I never will. And that goes for you, too, Michael," Liz shifted her gaze to Michael as she spoke.

"You know, Michael, I thought—I kind of expected you to, um, freak more," Max offered tentatively. A cynical smile swept over Michael's face and disappeared.

"I'm freaking at least as much as you are, Maxwell. I'm better at hiding it is all," he admitted, raw honesty in his voice. "But while you were caught in the middle trying to figure out how to get us all together, I realized that if we couldn't get it to work I'd be the one left out. You and Liz are like soul mates, destined for each other. I mean real destiny, not that stupid book. Karma and all that other crap Maria and her mom talk about all the time. And the longer things went on like that, with no one knowing quite what was going on or where this all was heading, the more I understood that nothing freaks me out more than the idea of losing you. Either of you."

Liz rose and hugged him while he and Max locked gazes. Michael fought the desperate urge to close down, to snap his walls back into place and push away the woman in his arms and the man sitting in front of them with so much emotion in his eyes. It was too important; Max needed him too much. He felt an odd surge of pride at the thought that for once, he was being the strong one. He was the one with the answers and Max was leaning on him this time. And so Michael stayed and he looked at Max, willing him to believe everything that had been said, telling him without words that they loved him and that that was the most crucial thing of all.

At length Max was the one to look away, his gaze dropping in acknowledgement as he nodded. Michael closed his eyes in relief, the urge to run draining away.

"So Liz…any issues?" Michael asked impudently, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hmm. Dating aliens? Nope, fine with that. Being involved with two gorgeous men? Can't wait to handle that!" she laughed. "Actually, the only thing that bothers me is the possibility of my parents finding out about us before my birthday."

Michael flashed a pleading look at Max, who understood and quickly covered, "Which is a week from Sunday."

"Right. Eighteen on the eighteenth. Then it won't matter anymore because I'll be legal," Liz confirmed. Max's expression became speculative.

"Can you get away for the afternoon?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral. Nevertheless Liz turned in Michael's arms and looked at him.

"And why would I want to do that?" she responded flippantly. "Kidding! Yeah, I don't see why not. Dinner's always the birthday celebration with my parents. To which neither of you will be invited, by the way, only Maria and Alex. It's a nostalgia thing."

"Oh, fine. It's not like we wanted an invitation anyway," Michael needled her. Liz looked up at him, smiling, then looked at Max.

"As I recall, Michael, you extended a different sort of invitation yourself earlier tonight and it was definitely accepted," she said huskily, watching Max's eyes widen and his throat work as he swallowed. Liz felt Michael's suddenly hard cock prodding her backside, inciting a rush of liquid desire.

"Time to pay up, Maxwell," Michael rasped. The rough quality of his voice made Max weak with longing but there were still some shadows in his eyes.

"How come—Michael, why would you want me when you could be with Liz?" Max asked nearly inaudibly. Liz's facile mind quickly determined what he really wanted to know. She squeezed Michael's arms and went to sit beside Max. He turned his head to face her but didn't quite meet her eyes.

"That's what all this is about, you making love to Michael last night," she said in quiet certainty. Max nodded and looked up at Michael, his entire body pleading for understanding. Michael was tense but kept himself from shutting down.

"I wanted you—God, so much—and Liz wanted us to and it was so—amazing and incredible and… But when I woke up in the middle of the night and we were all tangled together, I couldn't help it, I felt like I—shouldn't have. Wanted you. And like I should have wanted Liz, which I did, only—not as much," Max whispered. Michael had absolutely no idea what the hell to do or even think about what Max was saying. He'd had twinges of the same response tonight when he'd propositioned Max so he understood, at least, that it wasn't because Max didn't desire him or didn't love him. No, the problem Max was dealing with was how to handle so much love and desire…for someone who was not Liz.

All unknowingly, Liz had essentially shaped Max's sexuality growing up. She was the girl he'd been in love with for most of his life. She was his first kiss, his first girlfriend, his first everything. Michael knew that while Max looked at other women and appreciated their beauty, Liz was the only one he'd ever wanted, and that had been so much it hurt. Knowing the power of Max's feelings for Liz and knowing that similarly strong feelings were also directed at him now was a heady sensation for Michael. Once that very strength would have inspired him to bolt for safety, but in the weeks since he and Max had become involved something had changed. Michael's inspiration in this moment was to fight, to use the strength of those feelings to help Max and in doing so, help all of them.

"It doesn't have anything to do with me being male, does it, Max? It's because I'm someone other than Liz Parker," Michael asserted bluntly, seeing the flash of panicked acknowledgement in Max's face. He realized that more than anything else, Max was afraid of hurting him with this, so he added more gently, "It's OK; I understand."

Liz looked back at Michael then returned her gaze to Max. There was relief etched on his face and slowly she began to comprehend what Michael meant. She had known about Max's lifelong feelings for her of course, and that their love and lovemaking had been his sole experience, but Liz had never considered just how deep her influence ran in Max. It was a little overwhelming to have that awareness crash in on her but she rallied gamely, as she always did, and as an idea struck she moved onto Max's lap, straddling him and staring into his eyes. She had his complete attention now.

"Even though I wanted you to make love to Michael, that wasn't enough. You still felt like you were betraying me, right?" she asked softly, the question a rhetorical one.

"Kind of, yeah. I know how ridiculous it sounds, especially when I didn't feel that way about sneaking around with Michael, but—I can't help the way I feel, Liz."

Liz stroked his cheek. "You mustn't apologize for your feelings, Max, they're a part of who you are and why we love you. We just have to deal with them, that's all. Now, do you think it would help if I gave you permission to love Michael?"

Max was surprised by the question but thought about it before answering. It seemed logical enough, but since when were emotions logical? "I—maybe?"

Liz leaned in close and whispered at his lips, "Max Evans, you hereby have Liz Parker's permanent permission to love and be loved by Michael Guerin, and also to feel sexual desire for each other."

It was unbelievable how much difference a few words could make, but Max reminded himself that vows frequently are of few words and yet they change lives. He felt a rush of that desire, a reaction that Liz surely noticed, but he wasn't free. Not quite yet. Until Liz's next words shattered his last resistance.

"I also extend permanent permission, my presence notwithstanding, for you to fuck Michael any time you want to, and for him to fuck you," the unfamiliar expletives rolled off Liz's tongue with startling ease. The utter graphicness of her speech left no doubt that she didn't know what she was endorsing so readily, that she didn't understand what he needed to the depths of her soul.

"Can I get that in writing?" Michael offered hoarsely, smiling as Max let out a choked gasp. Liz didn't turn around as she replied, continuing to look into Max's eyes.

"Of course, Michael. I'd be more than happy to write it out and sign it for you—later. Right this minute, though, I still have this little problem that you two created for me, and I sense," she wiggled against Max and he inhaled rather sharply, "I sense that our boy here is ready to help me out with that now."

"You'd better believe it," Max murmured before he kissed her, conveying all his gratitude and love in a searing dance of lips and tongues. Michael knelt behind Liz, his hands sliding up her back under her thin sweater and unhooking her bra, pulling it away from her breasts. He reached around to her front, pressed against Max, and undid the button and fly of her shorts. As soon as Max felt Michael's hands in between him and Liz, he drew back and Michael pulled off Liz's sweater and bra. Max returned to Liz's mouth while Michael caressed her bare breasts, both men enjoying her little sighs of pleasure.

Michael nuzzled Liz's neck, nipping at the soft skin, while Max reached around her to run his hands up and down Michael's arms purposefully. Michael figured out what he meant and stood suddenly, bracing his arms around Liz's ribcage and bringing her up with him. Max followed them up, scooping her legs onto his arm and tugging them both in the general direction of the bedroom. Liz laughed at them, at least until she found herself stripped naked and laid in the center of Michael's bed with Max kissing her lips and Michael…

"Oh God!" she gasped as Michael's tongue swept across her wetness, his body settling in between her spread legs.

Max glanced down and smiled at Michael.

"I realize I'm hardly going to be up to Max's level but I've wanted to do this for so long," Michael said a little apprehensively. Liz motioned for Max to move and she sat up, causing Michael to sit up as well to meet her eyes.

"Michael, it's not about who's better at something; it can't be, not for this to work. For example, I know damn well you give better head than I do but you don't see Max objecting when I go down on him, do you?" Liz stated.

"Liz, you can't compare that! It's completely different with you than with Michael," Max protested. She threw him a smile.

"My point exactly. You see, Michael, Max—he's a tease. One who delivers, yes, but still—a tease," Liz continued. Michael's lips twitched and he reached out, running his hands down Liz's arms to her wrists. He brought her arms up over her head and crossed her wrists there, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. Liz laughed. So did Max, but not as cheerfully.

"I was under the impression that you both enjoyed that," he pouted. Liz met his eyes.

"Would I have called our first time mind-blowing if I didn't enjoy that?" she said pointedly.

"Probably not," Max responded with a crooked smile. Michael didn't even have to say anything; it was understood now that they were teasing him.

"It's just not something I want all the time," Liz said, looking directly at Michael. A slow smile appeared on his face as he realized what she was saying. Liz registered his comprehension and flicked her eyes towards Max before leaning in to whisper in Michael's ear, "Wanna do a little table-turning on someone later?"

She took his brilliant smile and quick wink as affirmative as she lay back down. Still looking at Michael, Liz spread her legs wide in invitation.

She closed her eyes as his tongue touched her skin in one long, slow glide, then opened them again in surprise as another mouth settled on her breast. Max gave her a wicked little smile and deliberately extended his tongue, flicking her nipple under her fascinated gaze. Liz watched him lick at the stiff peak until the light touches were too gentle and she pulled his head down, arching into his mouth.

Michael had paused, waiting until Liz had demanded more of Max. Then he began a relentless assault with those long, slow licks that touched her everywhere. Over and over he licked her, his tongue dragging over her clitoris with each pass, building tension with each lingering glide. It was absolutely unlike Max's intimate kisses, and utterly compelling in its single-mindedness. Michael's inexorable licks had one purpose and one purpose only: to steadily drive her pleasure higher until she exploded.

Voluntarily Liz placed her arms over her head, yielding to the sensations that Michael's tongue between her legs and Max's mouth and hands on her breasts were inciting. She moaned as Michael shortened his licks, keeping the same determined rhythm but concentrating more on the tiny bundle of nerves. Abruptly her desire soared as Max gently bit her nipples and the wave was upon her. Her loud cry alerted Michael and he sped up considerably, sending her spinning out in a blaze of passion and heat.

When Liz's tremors stopped Michael sat up, looking slightly dazed. Max met his eyes and they both grinned.

"Wow, that was," Michael groped for a word.

"Addictive?" Max suggested. Michael nodded and they both looked at Liz, who wore a dreamy smile.

"No arguments here," she said quickly when she noticed them looking at her. She focused on Michael, echoing, "Definitely addictive." He ducked his head and she smiled broadly. Then her face became mischievous and she pushed Max onto his back and straddled him, sitting on his firm abdomen.

"But the next question is, what can we do for Max?" Liz murmured, her eyes sparkling. Max couldn't see past her but he could certainly feel Michael's hands sliding up his legs, caressing the soft skin of his thighs. Liz leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to his collarbone, tracing its upper outline with her tongue then kissing up his throat and across his jaw to his ear. She sucked his ear lobe into her mouth just as Max felt Michael's lips and teeth close on his inner thigh, intent on leaving a mark.

Max groaned and Michael glanced up, actually witnessing Max's cock get harder, the skin tightening in response to what he and Liz were doing to him. Just beyond he could see the deep pink of Liz's opening and he felt a surge of desire himself at the sight of them so close together. But he didn't let go of Max's flesh until it was a deep red, and then he switched to Max's other thigh, moving closer to his groin. So close, in fact, that as Michael sucked and bit at Max's tender skin his cheek brushed against his testicles every now and again, eliciting harsh moans from Max.

Liz had worked her way around to Max's other ear, bathing it and nipping at it gently. Now she settled her mouth on his, smiling at how eagerly his lips parted under hers, but she didn't immediately take the invitation. Liz traced Max's lips with the tip of her tongue, running it over their soft inner surfaces then dipping delicately inside his mouth to brush against his tongue. Max tried to deepen the kiss and Liz pulled away.

"Bad boy," she murmured wickedly. "Don't think; don't act. Just react, Max. Relax and let us take care of you."

Max stared up at her, understanding at last what was going on. Liz and Michael were going to overwhelm him with raw sensuality until he could no longer tell where one of them ended and the other began…exactly as Michael and Liz could not tell anymore. Until his body perceived them as one, the way his heart already did; until the way that he felt about them in his soul was the whole truth.

"I love you," he whispered, one hand groping down to find Michael. Michael saw it and clasped Max's hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the inside of the wrist. Then he sat up.

"Turn over, Maxwell," he ordered. Max's face reflected his surprise.

"What?"

"He said turn over, Max," Liz echoed, moving off of Max so that he could. He looked from her to Michael as he swallowed nervously then Max took a deep breath and followed the order. Michael waited until Max had finished adjusting himself, knowing that lying facedown was not the world's most comfortable position with a hard-on, even on a soft mattress. Once he was settled, Michael and Liz began.

Liz started by treating the back of Max's neck to the same treatment she had given his throat, her lips and tongue sliding lovingly over his skin. Michael started right at the bottom, with Max's toes. Max let out a gasp that was half desire, half laughter as Michael sucked each of his toes into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and in between them. Michael knew that Max had ticklish feet so he used a relatively solid touch as he caressed them, his hands rubbing circles on the muscles.

Liz trailed wet kisses down Max's shoulder, onto his arm. Her hands followed the trail, stroking his biceps and picking up his arm so that she could lick the inside of his elbow. She continued on to his hand and sucked on his fingers as Michael had his toes, dropping a kiss in his palm when she was finished. The she moved down his body, her tongue painting his side, to his leg. Liz kissed and caressed her way down one leg while Michael went up the other and kept going, heading for Max's arm. He repeated what Liz had done, massaging the hard muscles in his arm and sucking on Max's fingers. As he licked Max's palm, Liz completed her pass over Max's leg and crawled up in between his legs.

Michael scattered kisses and bites across Max's back while Liz's small hands kneaded his buttocks. After a few minutes of simple touching and massage, she parted his firm cheeks and dragged her tongue along his sensitive skin.

Max groaned and whipped his head around to the other side. Big knees, hairy legs, hard cock—it was definitely Michael that he could see. But that meant that it was Liz who—oh, God—Liz who was doing wicked things to him with her mouth. Max tried to remember why that should matter, why it should be Michael touching him there, but all of his objections melted away with another pass of her tongue as she probed deep into his cleft. Thought and reason followed the objections as Liz's fingers slicked him intimately, the cool gel a sharp counterpoint to his overheated skin. He cried out incoherently as she pushed her fingers inside him in a slow rhythm.

Michael continued to cover Max with kisses, his own breath coming very fast now. Max fairly radiated arousal and he and Michael were both aching from it. He could see Liz pumping her fingers into Max and suddenly, intensely, he wanted to be the one doing that. Michael motioned Liz aside and, comprehending the need etched in his face, she slid up to the top of the bed while Michael slipped in between Max's legs.

Michael's full weight was abruptly pressing Max down into the bed, his rigid cock nudging at Max's slickness.

"Not like this, not tonight, but soon, Maxwell," he breathed in Max's ear, biting his ear lobe when he had finished speaking. Max whimpered, the sound full of desperation, and Michael sat up. Still in between Max's legs he flipped Max onto his back, inhaling raggedly as the mute evidence of Max's arousal jutted into the air.

Even the coolness of the air against his cock after the warmth of the sheets was a stimulant for Max at this point, in spite of the fact that not once had either Michael or Liz touched his erection. It didn't matter; every inch of his skin was alive with the feel of them both. His world had narrowed to two people and what they were doing to him. Everything else had faded away in a haze.

Liz leaned forward, her slippery hand reaching for Michael. Gently she coated his cock with the lubricant, smiling at him when it jumped in her hand. When he was thoroughly slicked, Liz wiped her hand on the sheet then lifted Max by the shoulders, sliding underneath him. Her back was supported by the pillows she had propped against the headboard and she pulled Max up so that he was resting with his head between her breasts. Max could feel her heat pressed into his lower back and he moaned as Michael knelt in front of him and slid Max onto his lap, spreading his legs on either side of Michael. Michael's slick cock butted against Max's equally slick opening but he didn't press inside. Not yet.

Liz encircled Max with her arms, hugging him tightly then allowing her hands to wander his torso. She rubbed his nipples, feeling the taut peaks harden further as she pulled at them. And still Michael waited, the head of his cock pressed tight against Max, pushing ever so slightly at his ring of muscle.

Max was gasping for breath now, every nerve ending in his body aching for Michael's penetration. On absolute reflex, needing Michael on a level so deep he could scarcely comprehend it, Max asked for what he wanted. More than asked: he begged.

"Michael, please!"

"Please what?" Michael said softly, his eyes glittering.

"Please! Just do it!"

"What, Max? What do you want?" Michael coaxed, prompted to wait further by Liz's little nod.

"Tell us, Max. Tell us what you want Michael to do to you," Liz whispered, her voice sultry as she watched the utter need in Max's face. Knowing that this surrender had to be complete. But oh, the sight and sound of Max, wanting them so much, being driven by their touch, was incendiary for Liz as well. She ached with the intensity of it all, too.

Max swallowed, closing his eyes. A flutter of thought drifted through his mind and he knew what they wanted to hear. He looked up at Michael, at his flushed cheeks and brilliant eyes, and the words tumbled helplessly from his lips.

"Fuck me."

Michael was instantly in motion, his cock no longer pressed against Max but surging inside him, making them both cry out. There was no gentleness this time, no room for finesse, only the driving need they had for this act and each other.

Liz sank into the bed with each of Michael's powerful thrusts, the sensation jarring through her as he pounded into Max. She saw Max's hands flexing and she grabbed hold of them, lacing their fingers together. Max held onto her, squeezing hard as he rocked back into her over and over, moving to Michael's rhythm.

At length Michael threw his head back with a loud groan, the cords in his neck standing out as he exploded into Max. The sound went on and on, like a roar of triumph. Hunt over; mate won. Finally Michael raised his head and leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands as he swept forward to claim Max's mouth in a deep kiss.

The feel of Michael's tongue entwined with his was heady for Max, but paled compared to the shockwave that went through him when Michael's abdomen brushed against his still rigid cock. Michael smiled at Max's moan and sat back up, easing Max off his lap tenderly. Liz met Michael's eyes and he nodded, seeing the fierce desire there. She loosened Max's hands from hers and slipped out from underneath him, straddling him.

"Unfinished business," she murmured as she rose high on her knees. Max's insides tightened as she lowered herself slowly, Michael's hands on her hips. Once the tip of his cock was inside her Liz abandoned the slow glide and sheathed Max completely in one quick, fluid motion. He groaned, arching his back, as she began to move, Michael's hands assisting her. Then Michael's hands left her hips and roamed, one finding its way to her stiff pink nipples and the other pressing circles against her clitoris. Liz leaned back into Michael, her pace picking up as he stimulated her.

Max could see it all. Michael's hand caressing her, his fingers rolling her tight nipples, Liz's delicious expression, his own cock sliding in and out of her body. As wound up as he had been he could have gone one of two ways: found release almost immediately as Liz had taken him into her, or found himself unable to let go for a while. Liz had banked on the latter.

Liz was moving wildly now and Max watched as she climaxed, feeling the clenching of her inner muscles on his cock and moaning at the sensation but still not letting go. Michael lifted her away when she had stopped trembling and immediately Liz grabbed the tube of lubricant, sliding her hands between Michael's legs and slicking him even as she had Max earlier. Max could hardly breathe, let alone move, as Michael moved into the position that Liz had just vacated and, gazing into Max's eyes, impaled himself on Max's cock.

He moved completely differently than Liz had, and it was erotic in such a different way to watch Michael thrust his hips as Max penetrated him. Liz reached around Michael, caressing his nipples and his stiffening cock and again, Max could see it all. The world shifted around him and he was conscious at last of only the feel of tight, muscular walls enclosing his cock, hands and mouths pleasuring each other, soft sounds of love in two voices. Max closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the love blazing through him for these two people, and let go.

Michael gasped as he felt Max climax inside him and it triggered his own climax, his cock bucking in Liz's hand as he spurted onto Max's chest and abdomen. When both men had quieted Michael lifted up, allowing Max's limp cock to slide from his body. He waved a hand over them both, evaporating the liquid, and turned and did the same for Liz. Then Michael and Liz cuddled up to Max, one on either side.

Max had yet to open his eyes and as they settled against him it took him a moment to clarify who was on what side, because they felt the same now. A smile bubbled up from the depths of his soul at that thought.

They felt the same now.

Chapter 4

After walking Liz to her window and kissing her goodnight, Max hurried home, mindful of the paling sky. Technically he didn’t have a curfew but he was generally home by two o’clock unless he had specific plans that would run later, in which case he let his parents know ahead of time. It was a small courtesy. Rarely did they ask where he had been; it was enough to have a rough estimate of when he would be home so that no one worried.

Tonight was different.

Max entered the house as quietly as possible and headed for his room. He was halted in the living room doorway by his mother’s voice.

“Max? My goodness, you’re home late,” her tone was matter-of-fact, not accusatory, but he felt guilty anyway.

“Yeah, I—sorry about that. I fell asleep,” he apologized. Max squinted in the sudden brightness as Diane turned on the lamp, fighting the urge to cover his face. Not expecting to see anyone, he hadn’t repaired the minor damages to his body from his intense lovemaking with Michael and Liz. Max knew his mother would be able to tell that something, at least, had been going on just by looking at him.

He was right. Diane’s sharp gaze wandered over his dark, swollen lips and messy hair. Just barely visible above his T-shirt collar was the unmistakable red outline of a hickey, and also—were those teeth marks? Eventually she met his eyes, though her own were unreadable.

“With Michael?” she asked politely. Not at Michael’s, but with Michael. The subtle phrasing placed a completely different interpretation on the query.

Max shifted, his eyes dropping in discomfort. He raised a hand to rub at his upper lip, the action moving his T-shirt enough for Diane to positively identify the marks as bites. She felt a wave of helplessness wash over her and sat down heavily in the chair she had just vacated. Bites didn’t happen when you were just making out. Hickeys yes, but not bites. They happened in the middle of sex, when no one was in complete control of themselves anymore, and they meant that Max and Michael had indeed crossed that line.

Max was a little alarmed by her abruptly sitting down, enough to answer her truthfully. “Yeah. I, uh, I was with Michael,” he echoed her phrasing. Diane nodded and kept silent for a moment.

“Were you having sex with him?” she asked straightforwardly. She tried to sound perfectly calm but there was a slight catch in her voice that Max heard, even through his stunned amazement that she would even pose that question.

“What happens—or doesn’t happen—between Michael and I is private, Mom. I’m sorry but I’m not going to answer that.”

“I didn’t really expect you to, I just—I suppose I wanted to see what you would say,” Diane’s lips stretched in a brief smile. “What I do expect an answer to is, what about Liz?”

“What about Liz?” Max repeated in confusion.

“Yes. Does she know, or are you sneaking around behind her back?” she inquired, too neutrally. Unspoken yet clearly communicated was the thought, I raised you better than that. Again Max started to feel guilty, because he had gone behind Liz’s back in the beginning. But Liz had understood, she hadn’t been angry, and so he shook off the guilt. It hit him that this was the first time in his life he’d ever been able to do so. As Liz pointed out on occasion, Max had a tendency to take everything upon his own shoulders, which often resulted in his feeling guilty and conflicted but also honor-bound to complete his self-appointed obligations. This time there was no conflict; his conscience was clear.

“She knows,” he affirmed.

“And she’s—OK with it?” Diane asked, not quite able to believe it. “Has—has she seen you kiss? Would that change things for her?”

Kiss, lick, suck, fuck…she’s seen it all, Mom, and enjoys it as much as we do, his wayward mind offered and Max nearly choked on the desperate urge to laugh. He did flush as he answered aloud, “Um, yeah, she’s fine and no, that wouldn’t change anything.”

“Oh,” was all Diane could manage, correctly interpreting his red face as meaning that Liz had seen them and wasn’t bothered, though she remained unaware of the scale to which that was true.

“Um, how—how long have you and Michael had, um, feelings for each other, Max? Do you—are you in love with him? Because I know how you feel about Liz,” Diane swept on to the next question, surprising Max again at her unusually detailed interrogation.

“Why, does it matter how long?” he stalled.

“Not—not really, I guess. Your father and I were just wondering, you know, if—well, if maybe he used to sleep over here for more than one reason. We—it did occur to us a few years ago, and then you started dating Liz so we thought we were mistaken,” she said hesitantly.

Now Max was the one who needed to sit down. Good Lord, no wonder they were so accepting, they’d thought he was gay the entire time! Somehow it had never entered his head that Michael’s midnight visits might have been interpreted in such a manner—at least, not until they were in that manner and they had gotten caught.

“No, Mom. That was about friendship and Michael needing to escape from Hank, just like we said. No, this is—really recent. Things just sort of…changed, one night. Apparently it’s a bigger surprise to me than to you,” he half-smiled, scratching behind his ear. “As for your other question, I, um, I’m tempted to say that’s private too but um, it doesn’t seem fair since I was telling you all about Liz, so…yes.”

“You love them both,” Diane stated, wanting to be clear. Max’s eyes met hers then slid away.

“Yes. And before you ask, they both know how I feel,” he headed off her next question. Even better than I do, he thought privately, feeling a warm glow as he remembered how they had shown him that tonight. A glow that was not entirely emotional and was, in fact, provoking a reaction Max would really rather that his mother didn’t see.

“Uh, if that’s it I’d uh, I’m tired and I’d like to get some sleep,” Max cleared his throat.

“Of course, honey. Thank you for being honest with me, Max. While I can’t say that I understand exactly, as long as Michael and Liz can deal with it and you’re happy, it doesn’t really matter what I think,” Diane said affectionately. Max nodded and rose to leave then turned at the doorway.

“Mom, about earlier, I’m sorry I was so harsh. I’m uh, I’m still, adjusting and it’s something we want to keep private so I, uh, I—overreacted. And thank you. You’ve always said I could come to you with anything and it’s, um, it’s great that that’s actually true. Night; I love you,” he said quietly, and then departed.

Max had a niggling little doubt left; he was pretty sure that his mother didn’t quite realize the way in which the three of them had worked this out. But she knew more than enough—almost everything, and it hadn’t altered him in her eyes. Max wasn’t sure if he believed in any gods but he offered thanks to whatever powers might be listening that Philip and Diane Evans had been driving on a lonely road one fateful night, and that their hearts, big enough to take two lost, unknown children as their own, had never changed.

Once in the safe haven of his room Max changed into a clean pair of boxers and reached for the phone.

"What?" answered a sleepy voice, none too happily.

"It's me," Max whispered.

"Maxwell, you just left here for crying out loud! Even Maria waited till the next day to tell me she missed me," Michael growled. Max could almost hear Michael rolling his eyes and he smiled at the thought.

"Please credit me with a little more patience than Maria, Michael. I'm calling because I just told Mom I'm in love with both of you."

There was a long silence while Michael struggled to comprehend what Max was saying. "Say what?"

"She was waiting for me, and asked…well, pretty personal and direct questions. I didn't tell her that we were sleeping together, or that it was a circle, but I didn't want to lie to her, especially since," Max paused, not sure how to phrase it. "Well, they—my parents, that is—kind of thought that we, um, that we had a thing going before Liz and I started dating. You know, they thought we were both, um, gay, and—together."

"And you came in looking like you'd been well and thoroughly fucked," Michael sounded more amused than anything else, and his blunt words caused a tightening in Max's groin.

"Um, yeah," he agreed breathlessly. Michael chuckled.

"Straining at your shorts, Maxwell?" he asked archly, and Max felt himself redden a little.

"Kind of. I, uh, I was thinking about all the things I couldn't say when I was talking to Mom, and…yeah," he admitted. "I can't seem to help it anymore, every time I'm with one of you, or both of you now, or even remembering us together, I—Michael, do you feel it too? The need? Sometimes it's just so intense!"

"Yeah, I can feel it too. I feel it in you, and it draws me to you, makes me hungry for you," Michael said in a near whisper.

"That's like what Liz said," Max murmured, his breath catching at Michael's words.

"Yeah? Must have something to do with you being an alien King. Doesn't really matter why, since I'm not real interested in fighting it," Michael confessed softly.

"Oh," Max breathed. "Me neither. Listen, Michael—nuts, I have to go. I told Mom I was tired and going straight to bed, which I did, but if she hears me on the phone you know she's going to want to talk more now."

"Yeah, I remember. You know, what you said about your parents thinking we were, um, like a couple? That explains why your dad was so wound up when he gave us the sex talk. And why the books and stuff they gave you were so, hmm, liberal in their views and information!" Michael laughed.

"You're right! I haven't thought about that in years. At least…Michael, at least you know that you'll always be welcome here," Max said hesitantly. "I mean, you always were, and it's not going to change now."

"Yeah, there is that," Michael agreed noncommittally. "You and Iz definitely lucked out in the parent department."

Max took a deep breath and blurted out something he'd always wanted to say but could never work up the courage to get out. "Michael…I wish you'd taken my hand in the desert that night, when we hatched. Everything could have been so different for you, so much better, if you'd been with us."

"A year ago I might have agreed with you Max," he responded slowly. "But now…if I had taken your hand, we would be brothers in truth and I—I want much more than that from you. I don't know, maybe Kyle's Buddha babble is rubbing off or something but maybe I didn't take your hand because then this—our circle—would never be. And maybe it needs to be. I don't know, Maxwell. All I know is that it's almost dawn and you have to get off the phone, and I need some sleep before I start making a complete idiot of myself."

"Right. Would you do something for me? Would you call Liz and tell her what's up? She keeps her phone turned on low by her bed; I think it lights up instead of ringing or something. And Michael…I want more, too."

"Night, Maxwell. I'll call Liz." Michael's words were short but his voice, oh, it was so clear from his voice that he was also saying, "I love you."

"Thanks. Give her my love, too," Max skirted the issue as well, content with what had been said, and they hung up. Max curled into a comfortable position, thinking about what Michael had said, and despite the renewed ache of desire he fell asleep almost immediately.

The strobing blue light of her telephone illuminated Liz's room for a moment before she picked up the receiver, cradling it against her cheek while she slid back under the covers.

"Hi," she said warmly. "I didn't think you were going to call."

Michael was taken aback for a moment until he realized that she thought he was Max. A rueful smile tugged at his mouth as he spoke, "I can't imagine why you'd think that, since I don't even remember the last time that I did!"

"Michael!" Liz said in pleased surprise. "I'm sorry, Max is the only one who ever calls at this time of night. Especially after we've…you know, after…well, he usually calls is all."

"Must be a sensitive guy thing," Michael joked, though privately he was not only surprised and amused, but also feeling kind of elated that Max had chosen to call him "after," instead of Liz. And that Max obviously trusted him to call Liz, too, allowing Michael to share the role of her lover.

"Must be, since you're doing it too," Liz countered with a light laugh. "Did he ask you to phone me?"

"Well, yeah. Um, he said to tell you he loves you, and that his mom knows he's in love with both of us. She waited up and cornered him, and he didn't want to lie but he didn't exactly indicate, you know, how close the three of us are. Although she probably has some idea because…well, you know what he looked like, and he didn't fix it before going home. But she thinks he was with just me, I think; Max wasn't too clear on that," Michael related.

"Oh. And it didn't bother her?" Liz asked, her brow furrowing. Michael hesitated then figured he'd better tell her the whole thing.

"Ah, the Evans sort of thought…that is, until you entered the picture, they um, well, they thought Max and I were, uh, you know, a couple," Michael stuttered.

"Well, that certainly explains the aggressive acceptance," Liz found that she wasn't particularly shocked by the assumption on Max's parents' part that he and Michael were together; it made an odd kind of sense.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Michael, does that bother you? That they thought you were gay?" Liz inquired gently.

"A little," Michael admitted. "I haven't really processed it yet, you know? But yeah, it does, a bit."

"I can see that. It is late, and we did have a pretty active night!"

"Yeah, we did. I told Max he looked like he'd been well and thoroughly fucked, which ah, provoked the intended response," Michael chuckled.

"And right before he's going to try to sleep! You're terrible, Michael. But you're right, he did look, um, worked over. Maybe because he was," she said throatily.

"If I'm so terrible then why do you have that note in your voice?" Michael challenged.

"What—what note?"

"The same one that Max had after I told him that," he said smugly.

"Oh. I suppose because I'm having the same response," she laughed breathlessly.

"You don't have the equipment for that, Liz," he teased her.

"Well, the equivalent, Michael," Liz laughed.

"Are you wet, Liz?"

"I—it feels like it," Liz stammered, caught off guard by his bluntness.

"You're not sure?" Michael taunted.

"I didn't exactly check," Liz replied tartly.

"Check for me," Michael entreated.

"Michael! I'm not going to—"

"Please, Liz. Imagine that it's my hand slipping into your panties," he said persuasively.

"Michael, I—"

"I'll talk you through it. For me, Liz. Slide your hand down, over your abdomen and under the waistband of your panties, and pause for a moment on your soft curls," Michael implored her.

"O—um, OK," Liz finally agreed, hypnotized by the soft longing in his voice. She did as he had asked, the elastic of the waistband resting on the back of her wrist. She felt alternately hot and cold, knowing what Michael would ask her to do next.

"Now, imagine that I'm sliding my hand down farther, Liz, and spreading open your lips. I'm extending my fingers, sliding them onto your exposed skin and more, moving towards your opening where I press a single fingertip inside you. Do I feel your wetness, Liz?" Michael asked huskily, unable to believe that he was really saying these things. And that Liz was listening, and acting on his instructions, was an incredible rush.

"Yes, Michael," she sighed as her hand became drenched with her body's moisture.

"Since you're so ready for my touch, I slip my finger deeper, pushing inside you until my knuckles meet your skin. Then I slowly start to pump my finger, in and out, in and out, in and out. Can you feel my rhythm?" Michael had his eyes closed, visualizing Liz's small hands on her body as he talked, trying not to say too much or the wrong thing.

Liz followed the rhythm set by Michael's voice; she could almost feel him beside her, whispering into her ear and touching her. "In and out, in and out," she echoed his words, speaking them as she performed the action. Michael could hear the catch in her throat on the "in" and he groaned softly.

"Sweet Liz, I thrust into you with a second finger and push a little harder, stroking your muscles. Remember, in and out, in and out," he repeated, faster than he had said it previously. Liz's breathing was audible now and she gasped as she sped up her hand's motion. It was hard to tell over the phone, especially since he was so new to Liz's responses, but Michael thought it was time for the next act when she moaned fairly loudly.

"Liz, now I'm withdrawing my fingers from your body and sliding them through your wetness till I reach…your clitoris. I start rubbing you," circles, Max said circles, "in slow circles, pressing lightly on your sensitive skin."

"Michael, I—I need—" Liz moaned, wanting more but caught up by the notion of doing only what he told her to.

"Harder, Liz, I stroke you harder and I move my hand faster until it's exactly the right amount of pressure, the right speed," Michael added hastily, catching on. He prayed he'd have some clue of what that actually was when it really was his hands on her. He'd touched her like this last night, but it had been while she was making love to Max so he was still unsure.

"Oh my God, Michael!" Liz gasped, and he knew from the heavy desire in her voice that she was almost there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Come for me, Liz," he encouraged.

"Oh, Mi—chael," his name was drawn out into a moan and he felt his groin swell even further in response.

"Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me," Michael repeated raggedly.

With a low cry Liz did just that, her hips bucking against her hand as the pleasure ricocheted through her. Michael could hear her gasping little sighs and he tightened his grip on the receiver, wishing he was with her so badly he could taste it, maybe because he could still faintly taste her.

A few minutes passed in near silence, the only sound their rapid breathing. At last Liz spoke.

"I can't believe I just did that," she said, amazed at herself.

"Me, neither," Michael confessed, clearing his throat. "I—thank you, that was—quite a trip."

"Yes it was, wasn't it?" Liz laughed softly. "It's never been like that before. I mean, when—when it's just me. It's all right, and I get—release, but the first real…well, never mind."

"No, it's all right. The first real orgasm you had was with Max, was that what you were going to say?" he inquired almost tenderly.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure if—if that would bother you."

"Nah. It's not like I didn't know you had a history, or that he gives you orgasms on a regular basis," Michael quipped. "Besides, mine was with Maria, so I'd call it even."

"Michael! You're so bad," she accused, smiling.

"And you love it," he needled.

"Yes, I do," Liz responded seriously. "I love you, period. Good, bad; everything."

"Oh," Michael responded, surprised by the spontaneous declaration. "I, uh, I—"

"It's OK, Michael, I don't expect reciprocation every time I say the words," Liz absolved him.

"You should," came his astonishing reply. "You deserve it, Liz, and I—do love you." Somehow the words were easier to say to her this time than they had been to Max, perhaps because until recently words were all they had ever used to communicate. He and Max had always understood without words.

"Thank you, Michael," she murmured. "I should go, it's getting light and my dad will be up soon to get the café ready to open. He usually checks on me then, pulls the covers up if I've kicked them off, that kind of thing. So far it's still sweet, it hasn't crossed over into annoying."

"That sounds nice," Michael admitted, with a slightly wistful tone that he remained unaware of. Liz heard it though, and figured that it was as much for the Evanses' ready acceptance of his relationship with Max as for hers with her father.

"Yeah. They're so overprotective of me because I'm an only child, though. Sometimes it's suffocating. And Michael, I don't—I don't think they would understand. About the three of us. Not like Max's parents would," she said carefully, not wanting to hurt him but believing that he should know.

"I kind of assumed that, Liz. I know your dad reasonably well; he is my boss. I thought—well, Max and I have talked about it a few times and we thought that it'd be best if in public, nothing changed. You know, you'd be just Max's girlfriend, and I'd be just his best friend. Like at the movies last night. Yeah, it kind of sucks, but we went over everything and it's…it's the only way we can do this and not get into some major trouble in some department," Michael told her. He hated the idea of not being able to touch her freely, or Max, but he hated the thought of losing them far more. If a deception was necessary to keep them both then so be it.

"You know, I feel almost as if my ears should have been burning constantly for the past few weeks. You two seem to have had a number of conversations that included me as a topic of discussion," Liz teased.

"Definitely they should have been burning," Michael agreed mischievously, and Liz laughed.

"Somehow that doesn't bother me like I thought it might, especially given that I'm positive of at least one subject matter! There's no way you guys could have coordinated the way—the way you both made love to me, night before last, if you hadn't talked about it before."

"Mmm-hmm," he agreed again.

"Michael, I—that was amazing, and last night was—well, it was about Max and what he needed and it was, so good but…I'd like to, um, for it to be just us, too," Liz managed to say, her cheeks rosy. She was glad that Michael couldn't see her as she essentially propositioned him.

"I'd like that too, Liz. A lot," Michael emphasized once he got over his surprise. He was beginning to realize that Liz was a bundle of contradictions, bold as anything one minute and the next shy as a schoolgirl. He laughed inwardly at the thought that Maria had been so much more predictable. Maria had a certain rhythm to her, and once you knew it she wasn't too hard to read. In truth Max was much the same; as different as his personality was from Maria's, he wasn't that tough for Michael to read either. But Liz…Liz was constantly surprising him, and he was discovering that he rather liked it.

"Well, you'd better go now, so your father doesn't catch you on the phone," he continued. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Bye, Michael. Sleep well," Liz smiled audibly at the thought that he would probably need to sleep on his back or else indulge in a little self-love before drifting off.

"Bye Liz. Sweet dreams."

After hanging up, both Michael and Liz lay in bed for a time, thinking over everything that had happened through the night. As Max was bound equally to both of them, so they too were forming bonds to each other, strong ones that echoed their ties to Max. They were forming a circle in truth, one made of purest love that would be unbreakable, standing firm against the coming storms.

Chapter 5

Max slid into his customary booth in the Crashdown and smiled upon seeing Liz's happy little wave. She was giving the couple at one of the few occupied tables their change. The early Sunday breakfast rush over, Max knew the café wouldn't be that busy until lunchtime. Which, of course, made it the perfect time to get a little extra attention from his favorite waitress.

Liz came up beside Max and gave him a light kiss then slipped onto the bench opposite him.

"Good morning! Where's your sidekick?" she smiled.

"My sidekick? I'm not sure Michael would appreciate that label!" Max laughed.

"Well, your…I don't know, your partner in crime?" she giggled.

"In another week it won't be a crime," he winked.

"Ah, no Max, some things will still be illegal then," Liz teased.

Max flushed a little. "Yeah. Um, well, it's his day off and it's not noon yet so I'll give you three guesses as to Michael's location."

"Asleep?"

"Right," Max smiled.

"So what are you doing here? I mean I have to be here, but you had a late night too," Liz fluttered her eyelashes at him and Max laughed.

"I wanted to see you. I just—I felt kind of bad, you know, for not calling," he admitted.

"Well, you asked Michael to call," she soothed him.

"Yeah, I know. It kind of felt weird this morning to not have talked to you, though, so I thought I'd come down here," he explained. Liz reached for his hand, laying it against her cheek and then kissing his palm before putting their clasped hands on the table.

"It's very nice to see you. I missed talking to you, too," Liz said warmly. They gazed at each other for a long moment, smiling, then Max continued the conversation.

"So, Michael told you about my mom?"

Liz nodded. "Yeah. I think he's a little freaked that your parents had pretty much always assumed you were, you know, together, but he'll deal. So will you. Did um, did she say anything else this morning?"

Max shook his head. "I think they're going to basically skirt the whole issue unless I want to talk about it. That's what they told Iz to tell me before we went out last night, and it seems like they're sticking to it. Me being cornered notwithstanding," he added wryly.

"That's so not like your mom, too," Liz said.

"Yeah. I think mainly she was worried about you, actually. She thought I was trying to play it both ways and didn't want everyone getting hurt," there was a trace of guilt in Max's voice.

"Well even when you were for a little while you didn't want to be," she reminded him gently. "And neither Michael nor I were hurt, so that's all good. There's no reason to feel guilty, Max."

He smiled at her, one of those impossibly tender smiles that always took her breath away and made her eyes prickle with emotion. Liz tightened her hold on his hand and smiled back.

"So, um, did you have any trouble falling asleep?" she asked, her smile taking on a mischievous cast.

"Uh, not really. Why, should I have?" Max raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"I was just wondering. Michael told me what he said to you about how you looked. I agreed with him, by the way," she informed him.

"Oh. I uh, I was too tired for that to keep me awake long," he confessed. "So you—agreed that I looked, um," he hesitated. Liz leaned closer to make sure no one could overhear.

"Well and thoroughly fucked, yes," she breathed quietly, watching the color rise in his face.

"Uh, that's—that's good," Max stammered. "What, uh, what else did you talk about?"

"Oh. We—you know, we um, we just talked," she said vaguely. Max saw the delicate blush suffusing her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes as she searched for what she wanted to say, and his stomach dropped.

"He didn't—he didn't like, come over, did he?" Max asked, feeling a sick dread that she would say yes.

"No, no he didn't come over. He um, he sort of, um," she leaned even closer and Max leaned forward too, his apprehension increasing along with her blushes.

"Michael kind of talked me to, um…well, to orgasm," she whispered, her pleased surprise evident in her voice.

"What, he just talked to you and you…?" Max asked incredulously. Liz's face became even pinker.

"No, well, you see he um, he…I was supposed to pretend, you know, that it was—that it was him, um, touching me," she continued to whisper.

"You mean he said what—what he wanted to do over the phone, and—and you just—you did exactly what he said?" Max could not believe what he was hearing, but he had little choice as Liz nodded shyly. He stared at her, choking down the bile rising in his throat.

"Yeah. I—it surprised me too. And Michael! But it was neat, Max, it was almost like he was there. And it felt so much better than," she trailed off, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

"Than what?" he prompted, needing to know the answer. Than being with me? his mind offered as the salient possibility.

"Than—than when I'm like, alone," Liz murmured. Max held in his sigh of relief but the wheels in his mind had already been put into motion.

"Oh. I—I guess that's good, then," he responded woodenly. Liz looked at him sharply.

"Are you OK, Max?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tired still, you know? Like you said, it was a late night," he covered his tracks. Liz smiled brightly and squeezed his hand before letting go and rising.

"Well, I have to get back to work, though I'd much rather sit with you all day! Can I get you something?" she inquired.

"Um, coffee and toast," he ordered, figuring he needed something that wouldn't aggravate his churning stomach right now.

"Just toast?" Liz asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I'm not that hungry," he reassured her. Liz smiled and jotted down his order on her notepad.

"OK. I'm really glad you came, Max," she leaned in and kissed his cheek before sauntering off to place his order with the kitchen. Max watched as she stopped to chat with another table, his emotions swirling in a thick fog that was coalescing around him, tightening its grip with every second that passed. Suddenly he couldn't bear to be in the café for another minute, knowing that Liz's room was right overhead. Her room, where she had touched herself to the sound of someone else's voice, something she had never done with Max.

He yanked out his wallet, pulling a bill from the back of the neatly folded money, arranged as always in ascending order. He tossed it onto the empty table and stood as soon as Liz disappeared behind the swinging door, forcing himself to walk normally as he left the café for the incongruously bright sunshine outside. His slower pace didn't change for an instant the truth of what was happening: Max was fleeing.

He wandered aimlessly for a little, eventually ending up in the park. His mouth twisted into what passed for a smile as he sat on a bench and stared out into space.

Predictable, boring old Max, he thought, trying to calm the storm in his gut. So, so worried that it wouldn't work, that they wouldn't love each other enough. Never even occurred to you that it might be the other way around, did it? Didn't think about how Liz's wonderful wild side would mesh so perfectly with Michael's lack of inhibitions. Silently he mouthed the words, "Never thought that they might not need you at all."

So this was jealousy. Max recognized it of course, from when Kyle was still dating Liz. From that guy the radio station had set her up with, who'd actually kissed her while Max was watching. Neither he nor Liz had known Max was there, but still. Max hadn't been sure if he was going to throw up or pass out from the pain. Yet as intense an experience as that had been, it had not prepared him for what he was feeling now.

What had he imagined would happen, once they had formed a circle in truth? Had he thought that it would always be the three of them? Or that if only two partners were involved, that one of them would always be him? Max had to admit that he had not. He'd considered it numerous times, had figured that he could handle it. It had been such a rush knowing they were flirting, that they wanted each other. The last two nights, seeing them together had been amazingly erotic. Michael's big hands on her petite body; Liz's legs closing around his waist or his shoulders. Watching her face as Michael stimulated her to orgasm was indescribable. And yet…seeing them together, and knowing they had been together when Max couldn't see them were two very different things, apparently.

Liz had given him permission to be alone with Michael. Would he be able to do the same?

The loud thwack of a boot onto the bench beside him startled Max out of the vicious cycle of his thoughts. He glared at the offending footwear then his face softened as he recognized it. Size 12 black Doc Martins, the laces covered by the frayed ends of well-worn jeans. Michael.

"Liz says thanks for the ridiculously generous tip," Michael's voice was neutral. The corners of Max's mouth turned up a tiny bit in spite of himself. She'd known where he would go, naturally, and since she couldn't come herself she'd sent his other lover. Their other lover. His brief smile disappeared again at that thought.

"Come on, Maxwell, get your ass off that bench," Michael put his foot back on the ground and waved Max up.

"Why, where're we going?" he said sullenly.

"Who said we're going anywhere in particular? Let's just go!" Michael exclaimed. The tone of his voice warned Max that he had better play along or Michael would get really pissed off. Knowing someone for most of your life had its advantages.

Heaving a sigh, Max rose to his feet and stood uncertainly beside Michael, not able to meet his eyes. Michael didn't seem to expect him to, though; he merely set off down the path as soon as Max was standing. They walked for over an hour, well past the city limits and on into Frazier Woods, all in a silence that gradually grew comfortable.

At last they reached a small clearing and Michael turned off into the underbrush, disregarding the path completely. Max followed him, wanting to ask again where they were heading yet reluctant to break the stillness of the moment. In a few minutes he had the answer as Michael stopped, bending under the long, low branches of an evergreen tree and sitting on the worn rock underneath it, leaning his back against the tree trunk.

Max looked around in amazement then met Michael's eyes, for the first time since he had appeared in the park. There were too many things warring in his dark gaze for Max to be able to read him clearly, but he sensed that Michael wanted him closer so he sat on the rock in front of him. Michael pulled Max backwards until he was sitting between Michael's legs, leaning back against his chest. Michael held him loosely, his arms around Max's waist.

"I'm going to hazard a guess that if I were say, Kyle, I'd be looking damned unpretty about now," Michael stated matter-of-factly. Startled, Max went to twist around to see his face but Michael pulled him back, anchoring Max's arms with his own and keeping Max's back flush with his chest. Slowly Max relaxed again, though not as completely as he had before Michael had spoken.

"She told you that too," Max commented and Michael let out a bark of laughter.

"Nah, I dragged you out to Nowheresville just for the hell of it," he snorted. "So, it bothers you, what happened between Liz and me."

Max muttered, "Yes."

"You don't like the fact that me whispering in her ear, just like this," Michael brought his mouth close to Max's ear, tightening his arms so that Max couldn't flinch away. "That me talking to her inspired her to masturbate; that it was enough to get her off."

"Michael!" Max protested the crudeness of his language.

"Maxwell!" Michael mocked him. Max was beginning to tense up again but Michael didn't seem to notice. He continued to speak.

"Funny, I didn't hear you objecting last night when I tasted her, or while you watched me touch her," Michael said sarcastically. "And I seem to recall you allowing me the privilege of coming inside her the night before. Maybe that was all an act, huh Max? Maybe you just get your rocks off watching Liz with another man. Or maybe it's because she was also fucking you at the same time, is that it?"

Why was he saying these things? Whispering them into Max's ear like they were some kind of endearment? Max pressed restlessly against the restriction of Michael's arms, only to have him tighten them further, effectively rendering Max motionless unless he really wanted to force it.

Michael kept his mouth close to Max's ear as he persisted. He knew that he had to be careful with how hard he pushed or he would end up unpretty when Max lost his temper, and that definitely was not his goal. Max's emotions were strong, and never more so than when Liz was involved. No, all he wanted was to goad Max into openly admitting what he was feeling, so it could be dealt with.

"So I guess it would really bother you if Liz and I like played tonsil hockey all afternoon after her shift, while you're working. Or you know, maybe we could come over to the UFO Center and go at it right in front of you, in one of the back rooms or something. How about that, Maxwell? Would that be better? 'Cause at least then you could watch, right?"

Max was struggling now and Michael moved his head a little farther back so he didn't get smacked in the teeth as Max tried to get up. Max wasn't using all of his strength, because Michael knew that if he did, Michael would wind up flat on his back underneath him. Not that that was a bad position under other circumstances but certainly not these ones.

"Let me go, Michael!" Max ordered. He was as furious as Michael had ever seen him and it was clear that his rage was building even higher. Nonetheless, Michael ignored his command and leaned in for the kill.

"Get it through your thick skull, Max: with you and without you, I am going to fuck Liz Parker," he declared, enunciating every syllable.

"Fuck you, Guerin! How dare you be the first!" Max roared and immediately, his struggles stopped. He fell silent and slumped down as if a switch had been flipped off. Michael eased his hold as Max turned in his arms, twisting awkwardly to bury his face in Michael's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Max nearly chanted, over and over in a voice rough with emotion. Michael could feel the way he was trembling; hell, so was he but in relief that he hadn't misjudged how far to push.

"Max. Maxwell, it's OK. Jesus would you just cry already?" Michael finally exclaimed. Max hiccupped a laugh, and then as Michael stroked his back soothingly and Max realized how truly alone they were, he began to cry in earnest.

Michael simply held him, allowing Max the luxury of total freedom to let go and let it all wash through him; to let all the pain and rage and fear spill forth in the cleansing rain of tears. He felt simultaneously humbled and proud that Max could be this vulnerable with him. It was a far cry from how he'd reacted the first time he had been confronted with a loved one's tears; it was scarcely comprehensible how much he had changed since then. But as Max cried Michael suddenly became achingly aware of just why he had made that journey. Why he had stayed so long with Maria, even though they made each other miserable. Why he was sitting here now with no urge to run, with nothing that he needed to hide—not from the man in his arms, whose fierce grip spoke of Michael's unaccustomed role as a lifeline; not from the dark-eyed woman whose tender voice had sent him here, trusting him to make it right.

He looked down as Max stirred, smiling as he tried to wipe his eyes. Max made a helpless little gesture as his efforts merely demonstrated that his entire face was wet.

"Feel better?" Michael asked softly. Max looked up with a slight smile.

"Except for the fact that my eyes ache and my nose is running, yeah. I do," he acknowledged. Michael shifted enough to pull a wad of tissue out of his pocket and handed it to Max, who forbore commenting on his preparedness. Max blew his nose and dried his face, stuffing the tissues into his own pocket afterwards.

"I can't even remember the last time I did that," Max said when a few minutes had passed.

"I remember," Michael chuckled at Max's swift look of astonishment. "It was maybe a year after I met up with you guys and we were playing in your front yard. Isabel was being a bitch so I took her doll from her. It was her favorite Barbie, and she kept screaming not to ruin its new dress. I threw it to you and just as you started to toss it back we heard your dad honk his horn. Your throw went seriously wide and the stupid Barbie landed in the middle of the driveway, just in time for your dad to crush it with the front tire."

"Right! Iz had murder in her eyes, I swear it. There was this sad puddle of plastic and purple ruffled stuff on the driveway and I totally panicked," Max laughed weakly.

"Exactly. I saw her look at the puddle and glare at you and I figured she was going to wail on you, you know? But no, you promptly burst into tears and Isabel was so astonished that she forgave you on the spot!" Michael laughed.

"And then teased me about it for the next four years," Max rolled his eyes then looked seriously at Michael.

"You had a plan, here, didn't you?" the question was rhetorical but Michael nodded anyway.

"Yeah. I, uh—to tell you the truth, Maxwell, I've been kind of waiting for something like this to happen since I got you out of the White Room."

Max nodded slowly, not trusting himself to reply to that yet. Michael took his nod as encouragement and continued.

"Obviously my game plan evolved over the months as things—well, as they changed but I always figured I'd be the one to push you hard enough to break the wall," he said with a half smile.

"How come—I can understand why not last summer, but once we were together why not Liz? Or even why not Isabel; why you?" Max asked, tilting his head up to look at Michael after he rearranged himself so that he was sitting sideways, still enclosed in Michael's arms.

"Iz is too soft. She wouldn't have been able to keep going when she saw how much it was hurting you," Michael snorted. For all her icy hauteur Isabel was a pushover where her family was concerned, and Max knew it as well as Michael. He nodded.

"True. But Liz certainly proved that she could when she set me up to think she slept with Kyle," Max commented, the memory not raw anymore but not entirely painless either. It probably never would be, he knew.

"Well yeah but that's just it, Maxwell. She didn't need to be put through that again, not when I could do it this time. Besides, you might have suspected something was up if it had been her, simply because she has done it before," he said logically.

"Right, I can see that. Michael…" he started to ask something then changed his mind and fell silent.

"What?" Michael inquired, pressing when Max shook his head. "Maxwell."

Max sighed and sat up straight, turning a little more so he could look directly at Michael. "OK. I understand why it was you that pushed. Everything you said makes sense. But—how do I say this without sounding like a total prick?" he smiled.

"Spit it out, Max. I'll try not to take offense," Michael laughed.

"Right. Um, I—I've seen you like—actually, you—well, you're sort of known for, um, for—bailing, when things get emotional, like—like they just did, and like they have been for—for the last little while, you know, with me and you, and with the three of us. And—and with just, um, just you and Liz, too. I wanted—what changed, Michael? I mean, your shirt is like soaking wet because I cried all over you, and I'm—grateful and happy that you're still here and that you could, um, help me when I needed you to, but…why?"

As Max stumbled his way through his thoughts, Michael's face softened into a tender smile. He was so cute, all hesitant and shy as he explained what he wanted to know. Michael was silent for a moment when Max finished speaking, gazing into his eyes.

"You said it yourself, Maxwell: you needed me. You've never needed me before. No, hear me out," he forestalled Max's objections. "You and Iz were always a little more self-contained, a little closer because you had those three years together when I was alone. And I realize that you did need me on some level, because I was a hybrid, the same as you, and we were friends who were the only true family that each other had. But that's—if I had been someone else, another alien, you would have felt the same. The way you needed me had to do with what I am, not who I am. It's different now. This—breaking down that damned wall you've had up for almost a year was something that only I could do, no one else. You need me for me now, like you never did before, and I—I can't help it. I feel that from you and it draws me instead of pushing me away. It, um, it's the same with Liz," he added carefully, watching Max's face for a reaction.

"I do, I do need you," Max whispered, cupping Michael's face. "But I—I need her too, and—differently."

"I know," Michael soothed him. "I know that Max, I knew that even before we started this. And I knew that at some point after things—happened between Liz and I that you were going to get hurt. And pissed off," he chuckled. "I'll admit I thought it would be somewhat more um, intimate of an activity than phone sex but I didn't know when—when I started talking to her that you two had never done that."

"I guess I'm just not adventurous enough," Max said a little bitterly.

"Oh for chrissakes, Maxwell! Hello! Have you not seen her face when you're pleasuring her? How could you possibly think that she's anything but ecstatic about you, sexually speaking!" he rapped Max lightly on the head.

"I suppose," Max mock-sighed, smiling.

"That's more like it. You know damn well how you make her feel. All you have to do is give her one of those looks and she's hot for you," Michael laughed.

Max smirked, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. "Yeah, I—I know. I didn't realize you'd been watching that closely though!"

"I don't have to. They work on me, too," Michael told him, feeling his blood heat at the way Max's eyes darkened. Max slid his hand down Michael's jaw, tracing his lips with his fingertips.

"They do, do they?" he asked archly, his eyes fixed on what his fingers were doing.

Michael swallowed. "Yeah, they do," he confessed huskily, his breath catching as Max's gaze lifted to meet his. Molten gold, that's what they look like, Michael thought. Or like the tawny eyes of a predator cat, maybe. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than Max had replaced his hand with his mouth, licking at Michael's lips to encourage them to part.

Michael opened his mouth, welcoming the dizzying sensation that kissing Max always engendered. Max continued to lick at his lips, tracing the inner surface with his tongue before sliding it inside Michael's mouth to meet and twine with his. His hands slid into Michael's hair, holding him gently but firmly as Max kissed him. Such a little gesture that hinted at so much love, and Michael thought crazily that maybe he should grow his hair so Max could stroke it like he did Liz's sometimes.

At length Max pulled back, his breathing ragged, and leaned his head against Michael's shoulder. "Wanna know something that makes this whole—thing just that much stranger?" he asked, a thread of laughter in his voice.

"Sure," Michael replied, curious.

"After the whole—storm of upset over Liz doing that with you, I—I thought, "Why didn't he do that with me?"" Max chuckled.

"Max, Max. You're impossible, you know that?" Michael laughed. "For one thing, I didn't think of it then, and for another you said you had to go so you wouldn't get caught on the phone!"

"Oh I know, it just—it seems kind of funny, now," Max smiled.

"I'd be more than happy to give you your own personal demonstration sometime, Maxwell. I could do it right now if you wanted," Michael offered in a low voice.

"Thank you, Michael. That's tempting, but I just want to sit here for now," Max said, the words slightly muffled by Michael's shirt.

"That's cool too. Why don't you spin back around so we can get comfortable, then you can tell me what kind of devilish things you've got in mind for the girlfriend's birthday," Michael invited. Max laughed and shifted in his arms until they were both comfortable then launched into explaining what he'd been thinking.

Michael could practically feel his eyebrows finding a new home in his hairline, which was actually a pretty good trick since it was hardly a low one. This was Max, right?

"Uh, it sounds like you've done a lot of thinking on this subject," he said hoarsely.

Max could feel Michael's positive reaction pressing into his backside and he laughed. "It should sound like I've done a lot of thinking about it; it's been a favorite fantasy for a few years," he admitted, slightly nervous. "What—what do you think? Do you think it would be too much?"

"I'm not sure about doing it before she has dinner with her parents, but I can't honestly say that the whole idea doesn't seriously turn me on," Michael answered.

"Yeah, I can tell that! What I meant was, would it be too much for Liz? I don't want to push her into anything," Max explained.

"Oh. Um, I don't think so. She—Liz already knows that you—like to tease, and she—well, she went along with what I was saying on the phone easily enough," Michael stammered. Max twisted around, amused by Michael's flaming face.

"What's the matter, Michael? Surprised?" he prodded with a smile.

"I—yeah. I guess I tend to buy into the whole shy bit too sometimes," he winked outrageously.

"Just because I occasionally have an overactive imagination where Liz Parker is concerned doesn't mean I'm suddenly an extrovert, Michael!" Max laughed.

"Well, I bow to your overactive imagination Maxwell. I uh, I've been thinking about—about getting a new bed. Maybe now would be a good time, huh?" Michael couldn't conceal that the more he thought about Max's fantasy the harder he became.

"Sure, why not?" Max chuckled. "We can totally set the stage, so to speak. Maybe you can get Iz to help you pick out something, she likes that kind of stuff."

"Good idea, seeing as we both know I don't! Listen, Maxwell, I gotta ask. How is it that you go around thinking about this stuff without constantly exploding or attacking one of us?" Michael asked incredulously.

"It's called control, Michael, and I'm very good at it," Max laughed.

"Yeah I get that. Makes the whole—idea make sense, doesn't it?" he teased.

"It does," he agreed, unruffled.

"I guess we should start heading back if you're going to make your shift," Michael said regretfully. Max leaned over to one side, looking up at him with a smile.

"Nah, let's not bother."

"You're going to blow off your shift. You. Hello, what did you do with Max Evans?" Michael asked in disbelief.

"I don't have to work anymore; Brody called me this morning and said not to come in," he laughed as Michael rolled his eyes.

"And you were going to tell me this when?"

"Uh, about the time that you told me why we came here," Max smiled.

"Uh-huh. OK, well, this was one of my safe places. You know, when I couldn't be at home but for—whatever reason couldn't go to your place. It—I've always felt peaceful here," Michael admitted shyly. Max was moved that Michael would bring him to a place that had been so important to him.

"Thanks, for sharing it with me," he said softly.

"Yeah," Michael shrugged. "We needed to go somewhere isolated in case you, you know, snapped or something."

"Michael, I—I wouldn't have hurt you. You know that, don't you?" Max pleaded with his eyes.

Michael caressed his cheek. "I know, Maxwell. I know." They locked eyes for a long moment. Max hid a smile as Michael cleared his throat and broke their eye contact.

"So. You don't have to work so we don't have to leave right away. We've already covered the whole sobfest and the plans for Liz's birthday, and you're not in the mood. What do you want to do now?" Michael asked flippantly.

"Who said I wasn't in the mood?" Max countered, looking up at Michael through a veil of thick eyelashes.

"Uh, you did," Michael reminded him.

"That was before you got me started on what I want to do with Liz," Max laughed.

"I see. So…" Michael trailed off uncertainly. Did Max mean he was in the mood for something with Michael now, or that he wanted to go do something with Liz? One-on-one relationships were complicated enough—this was insane!

"So…are you going to kiss me or what?" Max clarified with a leer and Michael laughed at his ridiculous expression.

"Absolutely," he murmured as he lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly over Max's. Michael felt a rush of desire as Max opened his mouth eagerly, his tongue stealing out to play with Michael's. He deepened the kiss, gathering Max closer and sliding his hands underneath Max's T-shirt to explore his warm skin.

Max moaned and scooted back far enough to get one leg out from under himself, unfolding it and twisting so that his legs were spread, one on either side of Michael. He moved as close as possible then, until his groin met Michael's and they both groaned. Max couldn't believe how talking about his fantasy of Liz had inflamed them both. Then again, it was partly anticipation too, knowing that they were going to actually do it in another week. He reached for the buttons on Michael's shirt and impatiently undid them, shoving it off. He had to get Michael out of these clothes!

Michael was equally impatient, his cock straining in his jeans as he whipped off Max's T-shirt and tossed it onto the ground. Max himself followed it as Michael pushed him off the rock, tugging off the remainder of both their clothing before crawling on top of Max, drinking from his lips again.

"God, Michael!" Max gasped. "You didn't happen to bring anything, did you?"

"What do you mean?" Michael asked between kisses, his mouth traveling down Max's neck.

"You know—ah—lubricant," Max moaned as Michael bit his earlobe. Michael stopped, lifting his head to look at Max. They stared at each other for a moment then began laughing.

"Hey, I remembered the tissues!" Michael exclaimed. "Give me some credit here."

"Duly noted," Max chuckled. "One of us really should start carrying some."

"I vote you; you're the responsible one," Michael teased as he started licking Max's nipples. Max rubbed his hands through Michael's hair, his fists clenching when Michael bit him. Michael smiled against his skin as he shimmied farther down, extending his tongue and swirling it along the head of Max's cock.

"Hands and mouths it is," Michael's smirk was lopsided and it deepened at the breathless way Max laughed. He heard a low moan next as he sucked the tip of Max's cock into his mouth, and then he felt Max tugging on his arm.

"Get your butt up here," Max told him, his breath catching at his sudden inspiration. He smiled as Michael started to rise, and spelled it out, "Just your butt, Michael. Leave your head down there."

Michael blinked in comprehension and smiled back before raising himself and kneeling over Max's head. He looked down at Max; it was an odd perspective since he was facing Max's feet.

"You sure about this? I don't want to choke you," he worried.

"As long as you stay fairly still I'll be fine. I'll bite if I'm not," Max stuck his tongue out and Michael laughed, lowering himself a little awkwardly. He felt completely exposed as Max began caressing his ass, his fingers wandering in intimate places that Michael knew he had a close view of right now. His anxiety faded some as he sucked Max's cock back into his mouth, its familiar feel and taste comforting. Then Michael forgot to be nervous altogether as Max mirrored his actions, reaching up to tongue Michael's cock and draw it into his mouth.

They both groaned and the forest around them heard the soft sounds of sucking and moaning from both men for the next while. Both Michael and Max stayed quite still, letting the other man do all the work as the tension built fairly equally. Michael was the first to let go, climaxing into Max's throat as Max continued to caress all the bare skin he could reach. Max swallowed it all and let Michael's cock slide from his mouth. Now that his attention was undivided, the sensation crashed into him with renewed force and he cried out, spurting into Michael's throat. Michael sucked him dry then moved, turning around so that their heads were level as he lay beside Max.

"That was…interesting," Michael said hesitantly. Max turned on his side to look at him, smiling wryly.

"You prefer the single variety, too?" he asked, his eyes sparkling.

Michael laughed. "Yeah. I enjoyed that, but it's definitely not all it's cracked up to be."

"Neither of us can drink wine anyway," Max laughed too. "As for the dine part, I don't know about you but I am getting hungry. I sort of skipped my breakfast."

"Yeah. Max…what about me and Liz?"

Max sighed. "Much as I hate to admit it, most of what you said, while expressed rather vulgarly, was true. I did like seeing you with Liz and I did freak about you doing things together when I wasn't with you. I'm not—Michael, I'm so sorry but I'm just not—comfortable with it yet. I'll get there. I will."

"Come here," Michael pulled Max into his arms. "It's all right, we'll take it all really slow. You know, like we were going to before Liz showed up in that black leather and sort of took over!"

"Yeah, that was something else," Max chuckled. "I'm sorry, I know I'm holding us back, but I'm not quite ready yet to let go. Liz is," he searched for the words.

"I know, Maxwell. More, I understand. I figured it would take time, and taking our time is the one thing we haven't done yet."

"Right. So, buy you breakfast? Or—well, lunch, by the time we get back into town," Max offered with a smile.

"Sure. I know a place that has really cute waitresses," Michael joked.

"It'll be busy, but I can at least apologize for booking this morning," Max said sheepishly.

"Mmm-hmm. Don't beat yourself up over it, Maxwell. Liz and I know you've been under a lot of stress for too long a time, so we're willing to go easy on you," he winked. "And—you and Liz have always had something really special, you know, and now that it's expanded to include me, I—well, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. I love you too, Michael," Max smiled, and the two men began to dress, getting ready to leave their peaceful oasis and head back into the real world.

Chapter 6

Liz turned as the bell above the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of new customers. She hoped that it wasn't another big group; her shift was almost over and she didn't feel much like running around as she had with the last group. Her pasted-on smile became genuine, however, when she spied Max and Michael entering the café.

"What can I get for you guys?" she asked once they were seated. "I think Max has already paid for lunch! Possibly in more ways than one,"