#trans!mjf

The question comes as a surprise to Cole, who lifts his head from where it had been buried between thick, hairy thighs, blinking at Max.

"I- you have one?" Cole says, motioning to the comically bulky packer that was resting by Max's hip on the hotel bed. It's still half-in Max's briefs, because Cole couldn't wait to rip them off one-by-one when they'd gotten back to the Hilton. Max frowns down at him and shakes his head.

"I mean a real one. Like, surgically, get myself a nice fat cock for you to suck on. They can do that now, you know - give me one that gets hard, one I can piss through. They can even get me balls. A perfect, designer dick, even better than that thing," Max says, nodding towards the packer that Cole knows for a fact cost nearly ten grand.

Cole pushes up onto his elbows, breathing in the sweaty, salty musk coming from between Max's legs. He'd just started getting him slick, opening him up with his tongue, but now his brain has switched towards something...else. He looks down between Max's legs, at the perfect pussy, the hair perfectly trimmed to a light stubble, the labia a pretty pink, his t-cock fat and swollen.

Cole has his answer, but he doesn't know why it's being asked for.

"...Have you been thinking about getting one?" Cole asks, pushing up and crawling up Max's body. Max watches him rise up, hands holding lightly to Cole's hips on instinct. "It's a lot of surgery, Max. You're already injured, you'll need time off eventually, I guess. Are you...thinking of doing it soon?"

"What's with the third-degree?" Max huffs, but Cole's unmoved by it. he rests himself down, his elbows on either side of Max's head, his own erection bare and pressing against Max's pelvis. Max has that sour look on his face that Cole's seen more times than he can count. Too many times to take it earnestly.

Cole cups the back of Max's head and leans down, pressing his lips to the side of Max's nose.

"It doesn't matter what I want," Cole mutters. "Whatever you want between your legs, I'll learn to work with. Do you want a penis?"

"Ew, don't call it a penis," Max says, and Cole snorts softly, resting their foreheads together. Max melts under him - it's so easy, all he needs is a little affection, a little care, a little love. Those are things Cole can give. Loving Max is easy.

"Do you want a big dick?" Cole rephrases, and Max hums. A moment goes by, then,

"I really...." His voice is soft, his eyes darting to look away from Cole. He looks somewhere else, somewhere that's easier to tell the truth. "...I really don't. I'm fine with what I have and I don't want to have the fucking surgeries. I'd have to have a catheter if I wanted to piss out of it."

"Then why did you ask me if I wanted you to have one?" Cole asks, tilting his head. Max shrugs, but he's frowning, his brows are pulling together. He's turtling his shoulders up.

Still, he says,

"Just was wonderin' if you wanted like...a full boyfriend experience."

Cole blinks once, twice. The realization drops on him like an awful sack of shit, and he breathes out. Cole shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to Max's lips. Max's mouth is relaxed at first, but it doesn't take much for him to return it, pursing, tilting his head. Cole kisses Max because he can't think not to, because he needs a moment to think and doesn't want Max to do the thinking for him.

Cole licks his way into Max's mouth, feels Max's tongue sliding on his own. They click into place, the two of them. As much as Cole tried to fight it once, they just...fit.

Like someone sliced them apart at the start, and the wounds healed perfectly, with surgical precision.

"I love you," Cole breathes against Max's mouth when he manages to pull his tongue back into his own mouth. "I love my boyfriend. My full boyfriend. I wouldn't change a thing about you, Max."

Max swallows, brows raised. He licks his lips and Cole hopes he tastes him.

"Oh...okay. Cool, then. Alright," Max says, nodding. Cole smiles and kisses the tip of Max's nose.

"Let me get back to where we were then? Because now that you've insulted your pussy, I really think I need to kiss it and make it feel better," Cole says. The look on Max's face instantly turns to an unamused frown.

"Seriously, the codependency between you and my vagina is concerning," he says.

"Can't hear you," Cole says, sing-songy as he slides down Max's body, until he holds the outsides of Max's thighs and presses them in against his ears, "I'm wearing my earmuffs."

It was his own fault, getting used to having someone there to take care of him. Someone used to be there to lay behind him and rub his stomach and help him through the pain of. Well. All of it. But that person was gone now, and Max- Max didn't want to try and go down the road of thinking what Cole was really thinking during those times. He didn't want to know what Cole really thought of him.

Another cramp rolls through Max and it's almost, almost bad enough to keep him from hearing his hotel room door open up. Startled, his head jerks up and he blinks, and a thought flashes through his mind - Cole, breaking in, hearing he was back in town, hearing he was travelling again, but-

It's not Cole.

It's not one person.

It's three.

"...What the fuck are you morons doing in my hotel room?" Max snaps as Yuta, Hook, and Daniel Garcia filter in. Yuta, whose arms are full of Burger King and who is holding the room key between his teeth, just does his sickeningly adorable smile, and Hook meanders over to Max's bed and just. Sits on it.

"Heard you were back in town, buddy," Garcia says, dropping a bag and sitting on the other bed. "And would you look at that! You're still synched with us."

Max blinks in disbelief as the Goon Squad invades his hotel room, Yuta setting the warm Burger King bags down and stuffing the key from his teeth into his back pocket. He's all smiles still, passing out the food as he sticks his tongue out at Hook.

"Told you. Once a bunch of guys synch up, we don't synch out."

"That's the lamest thing I've ever heard," Hook answers, sitting back against the pillows beside Max. Max shifts himself and frowns, sitting back as Hook pulls a bottle of Ibuprofen out of his front hoodie pocket.

And Max had forgotten about that, completely. That at one point, he'd walked into the bathroom in AEW and tried to covertly undo a pad, taking the wrapping off inch by terrible inch, sweating because there were other guys in the room who would hear, and they would know, and they-

Heard. And they knew. And before Max knew it, Garcia's head was popping up from the top of the next stall and he was waving a pad at Max.

"Hey, twinsies!" he exclaimed to a frozen, shocked Max.

It was Garcia who tugged him along and introduced him to the others, the covert and not-so-covert transmen of the roster, who were such fucking dorks. There wasn't a single not-mid transman on their roster, just a bunch of dorky twinks, and Max only hung out with them to make them feel better about themselves.

"I've got a heating pad," Garcia says, tossing an electric pad on Max's stomach, "a bunch of chocolate, and like, every Shawn Michaels match that exists on DVD."

"God, give me a chocolate," Yuta groans, crawling up onto the bed next to Garcia. "You got the Burger King!"

"Cuz I was craving it, but now that I smelled it I have the ick," Yuta whines, which, fuck, feeding that guy on his period is a nightmare. "Hook can have it. He isn't even bleeding anymore."

Hook, without a word, snatches up the bag and sets it in his lap, all of this happening while Max is trying to understand what's going on. And then, at some point, when all the guys are laid back and watching Shawn Michaels flash his ass on the hotel TV screen, Max realizes exactly what's going on.