maruru

From his new position Jules can't see Max's face anymore, but he has the perfect view of his legs, one stretched out in front of him, barely brushing Dani's, and the other tugged up on the seat, knee pressed against his chest. His shorts are stretched tight from the position, and Jules' mouth waters.

"You both look like cats," Dani says, amusement mellowing each syllable. "Or a cat and a very annoying lap dog."

Jules considers biting his thigh for that, but he's full of bread and tomatoes, and the air is warm with the white bright sunshine of the afternoon, so instead he just huffs, dangling fingers rhythmically brushing the pavement.

Max doesn't reply either, but Jules sees his thighs shift, muscles twitching, one hand scratching at the exposed hair of his knee, a motion that could read as awkward or embarrassed both. He's still too sleepy to deal with that though, and can just hope Dani knows how to read Max as well as he claims.

"Do we have plans for the afternoon?" Max asks after a long moment, air filled only by chirping birds and the distant sounds of Jules' hometown beyond the garden. He sounds almost as sleepy as Jules feels.

"No," Dani answers, familiar hand gently landing on Jules' throat, warm and claiming, moving as he swallows. "I told you, no work and no plans while we are here. We always do it like that."

Jules imagines Max nodding, even as his eyes flutter closed under the weight of Dani's hand on his neck, and he thinks about other summer days spent like this, lazy and slow under the sun, late lunches and even later dinners, long nights. He squirms on the bench, just to feel the increase in pressure as Dani holds him still.

"You can come here too, you know," Dani says after a while, almost distractedly, words dropping like honey in the syrupy air. Max doesn't, but his legs widen slightly, foot bumping against Jules' hand. His fingers are starting to tingle from the dangling, but he doesn't let the chance go, lunging like a sleeping snake in the grass to grab his ankle, fingers pressing against bone.

Max's half bitten gasp tastes sweeter than the breeze.

"Play nice, kittens," Dani yawns, joking, but also not. Max's thigh twitches again at the words, and Jules files the information away, somewhere in his dazed brain, to be accessed again when it's cooler outside.

Time slows, sweat coating the points of contact between Max's skin and Jules' hand, seconds ticking away unheard in the shimmering heat of the garden.

An eternity later, Jules lets go and, almost instantaneously, as if reading his mind again, Dani's hand moves too, gently pushing his shoulder, a suggestion more than anything.

The tiles are just as cool under Jules' knees, Dani's fingers a safe barrier between his head and the table as he crawls forward, emerging on the other side between Max's readily parted knees, a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

Max's eyes are wide and blue, surprised and sweet, and his palms are warm on Jules' cheeks.

"I have a plan," Jules says, as if the conversation hadn't lapsed into silence at least twenty minutes earlier, nuzzling forward against the growing bulge in Max's shorts.

He catches, just barely, the look Max throws at Dani, cheeks red, and wants to grumble about it, but it's too hot and Max smells sweet and sticky, and all Jules wants is to taste him again.

"Don't make him wait," is all Dani says, "or he'll get whiny."