marie

The room was dark, but not enough to hide the silhouette of the bed and the woman lying in it, on the nightstand was Lorazepam and an unfinished glass of water, she seemed to be in a light sleep, but Daryl knew she wouldn’t wake up until eight, if he stayed careful, of course.

He closed the door and went downstairs, the cotton of his socks barely making a sound. On the way, he tied his curls into a bun and headed to the kitchen, opening the utensil drawer that barely saw the light of day and pulling out a box of cigarettes from the back. They were his mom’s, the expensive kind. It didn't take long to find them after accidentally seeing her hide them there, a smart spot considering they never used anything from that drawer.

He grabbed the lighter and headed back to his room. He put on his shoes, opened the window, slid half his body out, and climbed nimbly onto the tiled roof. He walked to the center and sat down with his legs crossed. He put a cigarette between his lips, lit it, and took a drag. The sky was still dark but already hinted at dawn. A view Daryl would’ve appreciated more if he didn’t feel so stressed.

After a few minutes, he heard someone climbing up behind him.

“Hey, dollface.”

Daryl tried not to roll his eyes at the nickname and took another drag. Max sat beside him, but Daryl didn’t look at him.

Max watched every little movement he made, from the slight tremble of his thin fingers holding the cigarette to the smoke leaving his lips. It was something Daryl still didn’t know if he hated or loved; he hated feeling like a fawn under a predator’s gaze, yet loved the spark of excitement it sent through him.

“Aren’t you gonna share?” Max asked mockingly. Daryl glanced at him sideways and handed him the pack and the lighter.

“Don’t smoke too many. Last time, my mom almost killed me and I had to come up with some bullshit excuse; plus, these things are expensive.”

Max let out a humorless laugh and lit his cigarette. They didn’t speak for a moment.

Silence.

“You’re not wearing that shit you always put on your eyes today,” Max said, studying Daryl’s bare face.

Daryl finally turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “The eyeliner?”

“Mhm.” Max took a drag and slowly licked his full lips. Daryl’s eyes flickered down to them, then back up. “You look innocent. Naive.”

Daryl clicked his tongue and flicked the ash from his cig.

“And does that turn you on?” he asked without really thinking. Max let out a chuckle that bordered on mocking and ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth without breaking eye contact.

“What do you think?” he replied, raising both brows. He exhaled smoke so close that Daryl felt its warmth brush his cheek. “You always act like you don’t know, but then you drop things like that and make me wonder if you’re coming onto me.”

Daryl pressed his lips together, threw away what was left of his cigarette, and grabbed another, more to keep his hands busy than because he wanted to smoke. He didn’t think his mom would get that mad over three of her precious cigarettes going missing, besides, she could always buy more.

“I was just saying. Don’t get too excited.” He muttered, lighting it.

Max smiled. Slow, dangerous.

“Excited?” he asked in a low, almost hoarse voice. “Baby, if I got excited, you’d be the first to notice.”

Daryl huffed and refused to give him more answers.

Max looked him over more carefully and noticed the exhaustion and stress in Daryl’s face. He raised a brow, put out his cigarette on the tile, and tossed it away. Daryl looked at him tiredly but said nothing. Then he felt Max’s chin settle on his shoulder, warm breath brushing his skin. Daryl tensed a bit when Max’s lips barely touched his neck, but he focused on his cigarette—or at least tried to.

“Why so stressed, mhm?”

Daryl sighed. “Exams.”

“You’re still on that? Last time I saw you, you were reading that fancy university shit too.”

“That was for my review quizzes, Max.”

“Same shit.”

Daryl closed his eyes for a moment and sighed again.

“I know something that’ll relax you,” Max murmured, voice even rougher now, and placed a wet kiss on his neck. Daryl swallowed hard. He knew exactly what he meant.

“Max, we can’t just fuck in my room. My mom is literally on the other side of the wall. Those pills aren’t that strong, she could wake up, and you know damn well I’m loud.”

“Just bite the pillow.” Max scoffed, continuing to kiss his neck.

“As if it were that easy.” Daryl scoffed, bringing the cigarette to his lips. Max took it from him without warning, put it out, and threw it like he had his own. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Daryl complained, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

Max ignored the question and stood up. “C’mon dollface. I’m not dragging us all the way to my place, it’s fucking far.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, grabbed the pack and lighter, and stood as well. He carefully walked to the edge where his window was supposed to be and hung down, sliding inside with precision.

“Careful, don’t ruin that pretty face of yours,” Max teased. Daryl shot him a sideways look and slipped into his room. A moment later, Max entered too.

The digital clock on his nightstand read almost five.

Max looked around the room as he always did—something Daryl was used to, though it still made him nervous.

“Just let me put this back where it was,” Daryl murmured, referring to the pack and the lighter.

Max stared at him.

“Go ahead.”

Daryl headed to the door, taking off his shoes first to avoid noise. He slipped out and returned two minutes later, this time empty-handed. He hadn’t realized he was shaking with excitement, anticipation. He peeked at his mother to make sure she was still asleep, and once confirmed, he returned to his room.

He closed the door quietly. Max was still standing there, waiting.

“What took you so long?” Max growled softly.

“It was just two minutes, you dramatic...” Daryl didn’t know when his voice had turned soft, more than usual. He frowned a little, feeling his cheeks warm.

“Mm... two minutes is too much for me.”

Daryl felt his stomach tighten. Max stepped toward him slowly, like he was cornering some helpless little creature.

“Too much for you?” Daryl echoed, instinctively stepping back until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed.

Max smirked.

“Let me tell you something, dollface,” he murmured, grabbing a loose ringlet and curling it around his finger before tugging it down, forcing Daryl to look up at him. “When I already have you worked up... two minutes is a fucking eternity.”

Suddenly, Max pushed him onto the bed, not harshly, but enough to make Daryl fall on his back. Heat rushed to Daryl’s face as Max hovered over him like he was a small prey.

“What...”

“You’re all red,” Max said, tilting his head in amusement.

Daryl scoffed and tried to sit up, only for Max to push him back down again.

“Stay there.”

Max slid his fingers under the fabric of Daryl’s hoodie, lifting it just a little. “Arms up,” he whispered.

Daryl obeyed without thinking. His hoodie and shirt came off in one smooth motion and landed on the floor. He tried covering his chest out of a strange shyness, even though they’d done this hundreds of times.

“You’re breathing like I’ve already done something to you,” Max murmured with a slow smile. “So easy for me...”

Daryl clenched his fists against the sheets. “Shut up.”

Max only smirked. In any other situation, that expression would’ve annoyed Daryl, but right now, a warmth settled in his chest, he wasn’t sure he liked or feared that.

Max lowered his face closer to Daryl’s, lips almost brushing. “You have no idea how much I love seeing you like this,” he kissed Daryl’s neck, right over his pulse. “So nervous...” another kiss on his collarbone. “So tense...” another on his areola, where he paused to lick softly. "So mine.”

Daryl let out a moan he quickly covered with his hand. Max noticed, of course—he noticed everything.

Max’s mouth traveled down his chest, then his stomach, until he reached the waistband of Daryl’s pants. He licked along the edge, his tongue occasionally brushing warm brown skin. Daryl made a small sound of pleasure; his whole body felt overly sensitive. Max pulled down his pants and underwear, tossing them aside, then began kissing along his thighs until reaching the base of his dick. Daryl tried to close his legs, but Max held them firmly and placed them over his shoulders.

He licked from the base to the tip, wrapping his lips around it and sucking just enough to draw a stifled moan. Daryl grabbed his pillow and bit it, but it barely helped. Max took him fully into his mouth, moving slowly, so slowly it felt like torture. Daryl tried to move his hips, but his whole body trembled too much.

Max pulled away with a thin string of spit and precum connecting them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood. Daryl stared up at him wide-eyed, still hugging the pillow to his chest, wondering if Max would leave him needy like other times. Without breaking eye contact, Max took off his own pants and boxers, his erection springing up against his stomach, throbbing and red at the tip. Daryl felt his mouth go dry and hated how much anticipation he felt.

“Open your legs, dollface.”

And he did.

.

.

.

The clock read seven-thirty in the morning.

Daryl lay against Max’s chest, tracing invisible shapes with his finger on it. His curls were loose and tangled, he could already picture himself crying in the bathroom while trying to detangle them, but that wasn’t important now.

“You know what I’m craving right now?” Max murmured in a rough voice. Daryl looked up curiously, his eyes looking even bigger without makeup, like a little deer. Max clenched his jaw. “A cigarette.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and snuggled closer into his neck. “You smoked too much for today.”

Max let out a deep, scratchy laugh. “Since when do you care about that, mh?” he asked softly, running his fingertips down Daryl’s sweaty back.

“I don’t,” Daryl lied.

Max just smirked.

He got more comfortable against the pillow, breathing slowly, looking as satisfied and arrogant as he always did after they had sex. Daryl felt Max’s chest rising and falling and felt a bit annoyed at how relaxed he was, as if his mom wasn’t right on the other side of the wall.

“Really, dollface, you’re the loudest damn thing in this neighborhood,” Max said, thinking back on all the other times they’d fucked, when Daryl could actually make noise.

Daryl sighed, half annoyed, half defeated. “It’s not my fault, you—”

“I didn’t do anything,” Max cut him off, kissing his forehead slowly, almost tenderly... almost. Daryl whined at the gesture and hid his face in his neck.

“I hate you,” he muttered.

Max chuckled into his hair.

“I love you too, dollface,” and placed another kiss.

The clock read seven forty-two in the morning.

hihi. this fanfic was already posted in ao3 since december (quite a long time, huh), so i decided to post it here too. this is also my first maxryl fic and first fic in general, i hope you guys enjoy it ^_^