Work Text:
Lewis feels numb as he makes his round in the media pen. The Qualifying is already over for quite some time -for him even more- but the failure still sits deeply within him. Again he flew out in Q2, again he disappointed his people. Again, thousands of thoughts are going through his head about what he could've done better, what he didn't do better, what he didn't do at all. He thinks a lot, a whirlwind in his head but in the the middle, like the eye of a storm there is nothing. Just vast hopeless emptiness because at this point he just doesn't know what to think anymore.
"Hey, Lewis. The pace in the car looked alright yesterday, looked okay again in FP3, so what happened in quali?"
Lewis tries to stay unaffected in front of the camera and the interviewer, his lips even curling up a bit when he opens his mouth, "I'm just useless."
A perplex look crosses the man's face in front of him, "Sorry, say that again?"
"I'm just useless." He repeats and it feels even better a second time. Like twisting a knife even deeper with a satisfying rip.
"But that isn't obviously-"
"It is, clearly." He says quickly, cutting the man off, disregarding proper etiquette and looks away, "I just drove terribly." He shrugs and blinks back tears, "It is what it is."
The interviewer frowns, "Did you just not feel comfortable in the car in that part of quali? Something changed?"
Lewis recognizes the pitying attempt at helping him instantly and promptly turns away, "Nothing changed."
He knows he can't afford any pride right now but accepting help just isn't an option for him. Even less with the public's eyes on him.
Ella sends him a weak smile but he ignores it, maybe graces it with a little one of his own but nothing more. He doesn't want to be rude to her as she's burdened with accompanying him to these torturous events every weekend but he also can't offer her anything more right now. He feels too weak.
He feels like a ghost next to the other drivers, as if he's not really sure what his purpose is here. Before he knows it his legs are carrying him to exit the pen and even though his mind is blank there's a nagging little feeling that he's forgotten something.
Someone grabbing his arm, wrenching him out of his headspace brings Lewis back to the here and now and then he's staring into Max's blue grey eyes. The nagging feeling disappears.
"What the fuck are you saying." Max grinds out and he seems massively irritated.
Lewis's eyes flick around, noting they're still and well in the media pen with multiple journalists and cameras present but he guesses if his husband decides it's time for a crisis meeting Lewis will oblige whenever, wherever, public be damned.
"What do you mean?"
Max lets go of his arm and there's actually a bit of throbbing afterwards Lewis notes, "Stop the bullshit, Lewis. What the fuck are you telling them." Max nods in the direction of where Lewis just had his interview.
"Just the truth." Lewis replies quietly, voice raw and weak and he has to avert his gaze for a bit because it's so hard, "Better people start accepting it."
Max scoffs, "Accept my ass." Max seems to only start but then his PR assisstent nudges him and Max schools his expression, "We'll meet at the car after this."
Of course they will. Lewis already knows what's coming for him and he's absolutely not in the mood for one of Max's raging tirades. He's tired. He's so so incredibly tired and if he could he'd just skip the race tomorrow. He knows it won't be good, knows it'll leave a bad taste in his mouth for the summer break but he signed up for it so he'll get through it. For the team.
Max brushes past him, releasing him temporarly from the narrowness the Dutch had trapped him in. Lewis doesn't glance back when he leaves, doesn't notice who he passes or who tries to talk to him. He takes his time packing his bag in his driver's room, carefully putting away his spare clothes and then he's already making his way to the exclusive parking lot.
Max is already waiting at the car, his arms crossed and hip cocked, annoyed frown marring his face and Lewis readies himself for a heated discussion. What he doesn't expect is for Max to only nod at him when he's close enough before just getting into Lewis's Ferrari on the driver's side, the sports car unlocking automatically.
Lewis doesn't need to be told twice about getting in. The moment he's in the seat Max starts the engine with a goosebump eliciting roar. The younger doesn't utter a single word during the whole ride but Lewis knows not to let his guard down yet. He knows he's not off the hook yet judging by the tightness in Max's jaw and the way he handles the car more aggressively. The hotel isn't that far away but it still feels too long for Lewis. It's like he's getting transported to his awaiting doom.
The Ferrari prowls along the front of the luxury superior complex, rumbling menacingly and Lewis makes sure his sunglasses are in place before getting out. The valet is already waiting as Max hands the keys over with a small 'thanks'.
Lewis knows he should worry what's about to come but at the same time he just doesn't really care. He's just so tired of bracing himself for everything, even waking up and getting out of bed has become something he has to motivate himself to do.
The ride up with the elevator is silent as well and Lewis just stares straight ahead, looking at himself in the floorlength mirror.
It's in the safe confines of their suite where the silence finally breaks.
"I'm gonna take a shower." Max says clipped and promptly disappears into the spacious bathroom, his backpack hapharzadly tossed onto one of the sleek modern armchairs. Honestly they're so modern they're the most uncomfortable chairs Lewis had ever sat on and left it at that one time.
Lewis debates whether to just change out of his clothes or continue to be a shell of himself for a few more minutes when his eyes fall on Max's backpack again. There's a bad feeling appearing in his chest and he knows he shouldn't bow to his whimsy irresponsible desires but in the end he still makes his way over.
He should feel even more bad when he knows exactly where to look, which zipper on Max's backpack to unzip to get the cigarettes out but in the end who's there to judge him but himself? And right now Lewis feels like his consciousness should take a break and go on vacation just to leave him alone.
He slides open the balcony doors and steps out, flipping the package open. He takes one cigarette out and finds the red lighter nestled in there as well. Turning it over in his hand the prancing horse on it glowers at him, almost as if its haunting Lewis and suddenly he has to resist the urge to toss it over the railing. He grips it tightly, glaring at it as if it has personally offended him but then he sighs. His shoulders slump and he slips the cigarrette package into his pocket before lighting the cancer stick in his hand.
It tastes like he feels, ashen and dead. Hopeless and empty but he inhales it greedily, the smoke burning down his nerves and calming him in a depressing way. Grey velvety ribbons leave him with a shallow blow, getting whisked into the air of the evening and Lewis wishes he could leave just as well.
He just wants to close his eyes and sleep for a very long time.
There's a tightness in his chest that gets lesser and lesser with every drag Lewis blindly takes, eyes closed as he taps the cigarrette over the railing, the burnt off part sailing down into the depth of the city.
The air is warm, breezing over him like a gentle carress and Lewis wallows in it before the temperature would drop for the evening. It's a little comfort, warmth touching him and he should think about the race tomorrow. Get back up and continue fighting. He's a stand-up man. He knows failure but he also knows how to overcome it, how to handle it and how to fight and get back up.
Right now though he feels like he knows very little.
It's like he's lost his definition of success.
The sound of the sliding door moving makes his mind return, emerging from the deep sea that is his internal world and just like that the warm breeze turns into a cold wind.
"You didn't ask me."
Lewis, elbows on the railing, only partly turns his head to look at Max over his shoulder. The Dutch is wearing one of the plush white bathrobes, his skin still a bit flush and his strands wet. The sight makes Lewis's heart tumble.
"I just had this one." Lewis shrugs and takes one last drag, "Needed it."
Max doesn't say anything but Lewis can feel his eyes boring into his back. The glare feels scathing, judging, and Lewis almost dares basking in it becuase he's just so sick of caring.
"So this is how it's going to be?" Max sounds reproachfully, disapproving and pitying and Lewis knows what the younger is trying to do, "Everytime you feel like shit you're going to smoke one? What's next? A beer for every fucked race? Or maybe a joint?"
Lewis rolls his eyes, sighing, "It's just one cigarette."
"No, it's not, Lewis." Ouch and okay, he's not really used to hear his name being said like that by Max.
"It is." Lewis counters and turns around fully, "Look how small it is. It's nothing." he says easily and walks over to the anthracite table, squashing the cigarrette butt in the ashtray that's resting on top.
Max follows him, stepping closer, "It's not because it's not you. You don't do this shit stuff."
"Relax." Lewis chuckles quietly, "This won't kill me."
"No, but it doesn't make you better either."
Lewis's smile, that's not really considered one, dies and he glares at Max through his sunglasses, "But it helps."
Max scoffs and it's a biting sound, like a slap, "Right. At least take off your fucking sunglasses when you're trying to bullshit me."
Lewis doesn't even hesitate and flourishingly takes off his bulky designer shades, meeting Max's fiery glare head on, "Don't do this now, Max."
"Do what?" Max crosses his arms, "I'm just telling you you're not improving the situation like this."
Lewis laughs at that and folds his sunglasses to hook them into the deep neck of his expensive blouse, "What's there to improve? At this point I'm happy when I'm able to make it into Q2."
"Maybe but it's no reason to talk about yourself like this."
"No reason?" Lewis smiles in pure disbelief, "Max, I'm a deadweight. I'm worth nothing-"
"Can you shut the fuck up with that?" Max cuts him off harshly, "I know it's a lot right now and I know the situation is shit but I never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again."
"It's how I feel, Max." Lewis says ennerved, "What am I supposed to do? Telling the people everything is good?" He chuckles humorlessly, "I don't even know what I'm doing wrong." He waves Max off and looks away.
"So now you're fishing for pity?" Max is enraged, growling as if Lewis had insulted him.
Lewis scoffs, "I don't even deserve that." He mutters and brushes past the Dutch, his husband, as if he is some stranger, "I'm in the shower."
He doesn't really want to discuss the interview because there's nothing much to talk about. He said what he felt, that the team would be better off without him. It's not his problem some people -Max- have a problem with accepting that. Lewis thinks there's at least some strength in telling yourself you've failed. That thought gives him a bit of comfort.
The shower is refreshing but it doesn't make him figure out anything. When he's done he steps out, dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist, putting on a bit of body spray. Sometimes the scent elevates his mind but today nothing seems to manage that.
When he steps out of the bathroom Max is already waiting for him with crossed arms, sitting on the bed, "We're not done yet." He says and stands up.
Lewis sighs, "Max, just leave it. The interview is over and I said what I said."
"It's not just about the interview." Max shakes his head and comes closer, "It's about what's up there." He points at Lewis's head.
"In my head?"
"Yeah, in your head." Max repeats defiantly, "The fuck are you thinking of yourself."
Lewis chuckles, "You don't want to know."
Max scoffs, "Oh yeah? Try me. You see this?" He raises his hand, golden marriage band glimming in the light, "I really want to know because whatever it is it's fucking bullshit if it makes my husband talk about himself like that to thousands of people." Max lets the words sink in, lowering his hand again, "So?"
Lewis stays quiet and he can't even keep looking at Max. They've been through so much, especially during Lewis's last seasons at Mercedes and Lewis knows he can't escape from this, from Max because they went through stuff like this but with a different route, one where they didn't talk to each other and it didn't end good.
There's slight panic growing in him as he knows he has to reveal himself but everything goes silent when two hands cup his face.
"Why are you like this to yourself?"
Max makes him meet his stormy eyes which are searching, trying to look into his mind. Fortunately or not, it's not possible and Lewis releases a shuddering breath.
"Because it's the truth."
The worrying frown on Max's face changes into confusion, "It's not. You're not useless, Lewis. You did so much, achieved so much no one else did."
"But that doesn't matter right now."
Max smiles, something tiny, "Of course it does. You wouldn't be where you are right now without all that. It's who you are."
Lewis closes his eyes, Max's hands still warm on his face, his thumbs stroking over the Brit's cheekbones, "Please stop." he pulls away from the touch, his heart immediately crying out for the loss, "I don't deserve it, Max. Just stop."
He's about to turn away when the same pair of hands grab him again, this time cupping the back of his head to pull him in once more. A pair of lips meet his and the familiarity of the touch, the warmth it never fails to call forth in him makes him melt against Max's body and he grabs the lapels of the Dutch's bathrobe, his body acting on its own accord.
Max presses himself against him, hot wanton body too tempting for Lewis to resist and he lets himself get pulled to the bed. When Lewis lands on his back with a bounce he's ready to lose himself in Max's body, just to escape his punishing thoughts for a little bit, yearning to replace this emptiness with carnal pleasure.
The towel is removed quickly by Max who seems desperate to get his hands on Lewis's body, grabbing at his hips with a wild possessiveness it makes Lewis shiver. With a moan he lets Max lick into his mouth, scalding kiss deepening dirtily, making Lewis's body temperaturesky-rocketing. It's mind-freeing, not numbing because every nerve in Lewis's body is getting lit up by Max's touch, the younger's hands sliding over his skin, grabbing, squeezing and carressing while he steals Lewis's breath.
Lewis feels his cock hardening and he knows Max isn't fairing any better. There's a hungry urgency in the way Max kisses him, full with emotion, this burning fire that's living inside him since the day he had met the Dutch for the first time. Always fierce and always ferocious.
It makes Lewis's heart beat faster, racing with want and when he's pinned to the bed it aches only more for Max. Lewis tips his head back against the soft sheets as Max moves to his neck, kissing down along his jaw before latching onto his throat. Hungry warms hands are running up his side as Max shuffles between his legs, leaving several love bites in his wake as he moves further down.
"Fuck..." Max gasps and raises his head, "You're fucking perfect, Lewis." he whispers and moves up to seize Lewis's lips in another deep kiss full of need and love Lewis's heart hurts.
It's so good and Lewis feels so good he doesn't want to think about anything else than Max who's making him feel like he's the most precious thing on this planet. It's an addictive feeling he knows and Max never ceases to make him experience it in full length.
The younger is a comforting weight above, radiating irresistible heat Lewis wants to get lost in, Max's lips like a siren's song. He moans into the kiss, Max readily claiming the sound and lets his hands travel fruther along Lewis's skin. He leans into the touch, body willing and begging for release but when Max wraps a hand around his cock it still makes Lewis gasp in surprise.
His hips arch up, chest rising and falling while pressing into the touch and Lewis watches Max grin, "You're so beautiful like this." He whispers and starts to move his hand up, stroking the thick shaft before thumbing over the slit at the head, smearing the drop of precome appearing there.
"Fuck, Max." Lewis groans and his head falls back, his hips twitching with every slow stroke Max is gifting him and it's agonizingly wonderful.
Max just hums and places small kisses over his jaw again, moving down to the Brit's chest where he mouths at one nipple, flicking it with his tongue before tugging at it with his teeth. The sensation is so sudden, electric bolts shooting down Lewis's spine he arches his back off the bed and presses his chest against Max's mouth. His hand flies to Max's head, burrying in the younger's damp strands, tugging and pushing because he doesn't know if he wants more or can't handle it.
Max's sucks on the bud, the wet hot sensation sweet sweet torture for Lewis and he gasps when he feels Max thumbing over his other tit teasingly, flicking it, making Lewis almost rip out the younger's strands. Max groans at the tugging and pulls even more against Lewis's grip, his warm breath making goosebumps errupt all over Lewis's skin.
He fights between keeping his eyes open or closing them and giving himself fully into Max's hands but he doesn't want to miss anything. Max's hand is almost languidly stroking him, mindful of the lack of lube but it still feels so good, just the right amount of friction but Lewis knows he needs a bit more to see stars and Max knows that too.
The Dutch breathes heavily against his chest when releases the nipple, the skin tingling from the cages of Max's devilish tongue and Lewis feels equally breathless. Losing the grip he has on Max's hair he tilts his head to look down and Max is already looking up at him, his warm breath fanning over Lewis's wet chest.
"You taste so good, Lewis." Max murmurs and places a kiss on his sternum where the tattooed compass star starts and Lewis's breath hitches when Max squeezes the base of his hard cock.
"Max..." He sighs, his hand fondly cupping the back of Max's head.
"Hm?" Max hums and places another light kiss on Lewis's skin, "Want my mouth somewhere else?" He strokes over Lewis's other nipple again with a finger, slowly, "I'll do everything. You just need to tell me, princess."
A whine builds up in Lewis's throat at hearing the name and he feels heat shooting into his face. He just knows he's blushing hard.
"I'm not-" He starts with half-lidded eyes barely focused on Max but when the younger strokes up his cock with a little flick in his wrist his head falls back against the sheets with a moan, hips twitching up into the sudden vicious sensation.
"You are." Max chuckles and Lewis can imagine that devious smile on his face, "You're a princess and you deserve everything."
I don't.
"You do." Max replies and he squeezes Lewis's cock again like a warning and Lewis realizes he must've disagreed out loud.
"You're so good, Lewis. The best." He feels Max moving further down, his lips traveling over the skin of Lewis's stomach that is flexing with every light touch, sensitive.
Lewis's breathing starts to grow heavier again, his eyes closed as all his other senses are honed in on Max, bending to the Dutch's every touch and when he feels Max reaching his middle, chastely placing a kiss on his pubic bone he instinctively spreads his thighs further, allowing Max more room.
"Good girl."
He bites his lip at the two words. Like this he feels unignorably exposed but he's showing this side of himself to Max so he doesn't care. It just feels really good to let go of everything, of this bad feeling that's nagging at him constantly that he's not working to his full capabilities, that he has to do better. That he's not good enough and should just retire.
"Hey."
Lewis's eyes blink open and he notices Max has stopped his sensual trip down Lewis's body as had the hand wrapped around Lewis's cock stopped moving. He's still hard but Max's gently voice has slightly calmed down the fire inside him yearning for Max.
"What are you thinking?"
Lewis takes a second to answer, "Nothing."
Max squeezes his hip, "Don't lie. Don't lie to me or yourself."
Lewis sits up a bit on his elbows to look at Max properly who's comfortably lounging between his spread thighs, "You are someone. What you told the press was the biggest bullshit on earth and I want you to never do it again, okay?" Max's fingers dig into Lewis's skin, "You mean everything to me." Max murmurs and Lewis watches with wet eyes the younger placing a kiss to his inner thigh, "It fucking hurts to see you like this." He continues and Lewis trembles when Max's nose grazes the base of his cock, his eyes unable to leave Max.
He gulps, heart thudding as if it wants to leave his ribcage and get to Max, "Max I-"
"Shhh. I'll show you..." He mumbles with a hazy gaze, drunk on just Lewis with his hand still steady on Lewis's throbbing cock as he noses along the thick shaft, "what you deserve."
Lewis's hand twitches, ache in his chest telling him he wants to place it in Max's hair again but his whole body seizes when Max suddenly licks up the last few inches of his cock before enclosing the head with his full lips. It's a sudden shock going through Lewis's body, a sharp gasp leaving him as he bucks up into that hot cavern.
Max moans around him throatly, the vibration making Lewis almost choke on his own spit, head tipping back while Max sinks down on him. It's slow at first, Max's tongue running along the underside of his cock as he goes down, taking the rest he can't manage in his hand, squeezing.
"Oh fuck." Lewis sighs, crease between his eyebrows forming from the pleasure, familiar heat appearing in the pits of his stomach.
Max had always been exceptional with handing Lewis's cock, knowing where to squeeze, where to hold, to lick and when to suck it's driving Lewis absolutely mad. The muscles in his thigh twitch when Max goes up again, spit slick lips tight around him Lewis is glad he's not looking at Max right now because he might just come immediately when he sees the younger like that. With his perfect full lips wrapped around his cock like he's made for it.
After a few times of going slowly up and down, getting used to it Max starts to grow bolder, rawer with his moves because Lewis suddenly doesn't have the strength to keep himself up anymore. He falls back on the sheets and moves a hand down, raking through Max's hair and grabbing it, just anything to hold onto as Max hollows his cheeks and sucks around the head.
"Max." He chokes breathlessly, his hips jerking up into Max's mouth at the bone trembling sensation and he sees white for a second. His head snaps up to look down, instinctively because he can't help himself.
Max's lips are beautifully stretched around his spit slick shaft and his blue grey eyes are closed in bliss, sucking and nodding his head forward to get more of Lewis's cock. It's a soul shattering image and Lewis can't look away. His mouth is parted in awe, watching Max transfixed bobbing his head up and down, occasionally suckling at the tip for good measure and Lewis tightens his grip on Max's hair. He feels his dick twitch, ready for a bone-numbing orgasm, his balls tight with unreleased pressure.
Max hums around him, feeling the irregular jerky movements of Lewis's hips and suddenly he just pulls off.
"Max what-" Lewis gulps, his mind almost thrown into a frenzy when he feels the high in his body brutally deteriorating with the loss of Max's mouth but he's cut off when Max's surges up, smashing their lips together.
There's a salty taste on Max's tongue and Lewis shouldn't feel so turned on by it, his cock twitching with interest as he tastes himself. It's dirty, absolutely lewd and Lewis dips further into Max's mouth, thirsty for more. The hand in Max's hair keeps the younger close as they lick and mouth at each other hungrily but soon Max's pulls away again, teasingly tugging at Lewis's bottom lips with his teeth.
"I love you so much." Max whispers against his raw bitten lips, "I'll make you feel so good. Just like you deserve." His words are hushed with how breathless he is, "You want that?"
"Please." Lewis licks his lips, the heat in his body almost unbearable and he's close to pushing Max down on the bed and just taking what he wants.
There's a sparking glint in Max's eyes, hungry and desiring, "You think you deserve it?"
Lewis stills, the only thing moving his chest rising. The words reverberate in his head and suddenly he's not sure.
Does he deserve letting himself feel good like this when he did an absolutely catastrophic job in quali today and in general? His brain tells him he doesn't because there's nothing to feel good about that. He doesn't deserve anything until he improves this situation. Until he's good enough again.
"You're already thinking too much." Max mutters and sits up, fishing a little flat rectangular package out from the bathrobe pocket and Lewis watches him pinch it between his teeth before untying the white fluffy robe and shrugging it off of his broad frame.
The younger is in boxers and obviously sporting the same problem as Lewis is and for a split second Lewis thinks about breaking this off. Even though he did a shit job today he's still got a race tomorrow and getting fucked the night before is promising a very uncomfortable race he's found out through multiple occasions.
"We shouldn't-"
"Relax." Max says around the plastic square and places a soothing hand on Lewis's thighs, keeping the Brit down, then he removes the silver package from his mouth to speak clearly "I said I'll make you feel good. Nothing too wild."
He shuffles back down between Lewis's legs and then tugs on his muscular thighs, spreading them further apart and then hot realization hits Lewis like a sensual wave. He lets Max manhandle his legs until he's got one thrown over the Dutch's shoulder while Max holds his other thigh to the side, exposing him fully. Lewis's whole face feels hot with embarrassment but Max's tight hold disallows him to close his legs.
"So beautiful." Max breathes and Lewis wants to bury his face in a pillow to hide from the shame as Max is just blankly staring at his hole.
"Oh god stop." Lewis whines and leans back, unable to watch Max.
"Never." Max just chuckles, hot air hitting Lewis's sensitive skin and his hole twitches at the sensation.
It must be so obscene Lewis doesn't want to imagine it but he hears Max swear, colorful curse leaving him, awild look in his eyes. He pushes Lewis's one thigh a bit further up and then moves in, licking a broad stripe over Lewis's hole, leaving it and the Brit quivering and something inside Lewis actually breaks open.
He whimpers, grits his teeth as he feels Max's tongue pressing against his hole, insistently and firmly, leaving Lewis's opening coated in spit, wet and hot. It's so good Lewis finds himself feeling desperate for something, clenching around nothing and he whines again.
"Got you. I got you." Max mumbles mindlessly, seeming out of it as he licks and sucks and to Lewis it's immeasurable, the feeling of Max kissing him like this down there.
It's mind blowing how Lewis's whole body seizes at the sensation, his hips rocking against Max's tongue and then the slick hot muscle presses and slips inside, the intrusion making Lewis arch of the bed.
"Fuck." He chokes and he doesn't even notice how his hand surges down, carding through Max's hair, pushing the Dutch closer because he needs more, "Max, please."
He doesn't really know what he's begging for but Max's answering moan tells him his pleas aren't falling on deaf ears. Promptly, Max moves with more vigor, pushing his tongue deeper and faster, fucking him open it's making Lewis gasp with tears pricking at his eyes. His cock is weeping, swaying back and forth with his hip's movements, pre-come perling at the tip again it's a pitying sight.
Lewis curls his head to the side into the sheets, fully sinking into the pleasure Max is making him feel, a combination of love, affection and desire it's overwhelming. Lewis doesn't know how to handle it.
"More. I need-" he starts and breaks off into a moan when Max twists his tongue, making Lewis's whole body stutter, "Shit, Max."
Max pulls away slightly and Lewis uses it to catch his breath, "Yeah?" Max looks up at him, lips wet and red, "Now you think you deserve it?"
Lewis gulps between intakes of air, blinking up at the ceiling as his hand falls away from Max's hair, "I don't-" he breathes, "I don't know."
There's something holding him back from letting him admit he deserves these good feeling. It's like shackles holding him back from reaching happiness, at least just a part of it.
"It's okay." Max mumbles and the next breath Lewis takes in is shuddering when he feels Max's lips on his inner thigh, "I'll help you decide."
Lewis glances down and watches Max rip the silver package open with his teeth, coating his fingers with the emerging lube. Lewis rests back against the bed while his hand grips at the sheets with anticipation, pulling his excitement taut. His pulse is thudding loudly in his ears and then he feels something wet brush over his skin, not smooth enough to be Max's tongue.
One of Max's fingers rubs over his hole and Lewis feels himself twitch again, his grip on the sheets tightening. Then Max's pushes one finger in and it's so much more, the sensation burning as Max moves it up to the knuckle. Lewis clenches around the finger when Max pulls it back out before pushing in again and repeats the movement again and again it's shattering Lewis's last resort of rationalitly. He feels mindless.
"God Max, oh shit that's good."
"Like that?" Max sounds a bit frenzied as he moves his finger in and out, pressing along Lewis's warm slick walls, "You're fucking perfect, Lewis. Fuck, so good. Always." He says, and sounds both enamored and awed it's too much for Lewis, "Another?" Max just asks, his finger prodding at Lewis's insides, searching for something.
"Please."
"You deserve it?"
That question again, putting him in front of the same obsticle again but this time he's not even given the chance to answer because Max just forces another finger inside him, making Lewis mouth fall open at the fullness. He feels it deeper now, Max's fingers pushing in, gliding into him and it makes the thigh bent over Max's shoulder twitch against the Dutch's head, muscles spasming when Max scissors him open.
He feels full, Max never letting up with his movements and Lewis rocks against him, hips moving to fuck himself on the younger's fingers, desperate for the final release he's now been denied too often, his hard cock pulsing in agreement. Max's fingers twitch around inside him, meeting various spots and then he finds the right one, hitting it with the tips of his fingers and Lewis's whole body convulses.
With a wrecked moan, mercilessly ripped from him his thighs snap shut around Max's head who has to renew his grip to keep Lewis's legs spread. Relentlessly, he abuses the spot, poking at it, pushing over it with need in his hasty movements. Max hits it over and over, and Lewis can't do anything but lie there and take it, letting shock after shock shake him to his core.
The pressure is unfathomable now, building up to its highest point and Lewis can't think straight, a string of 'Max' and moans leaving him with every wicked move of Max's fingers who just doesn't let up. He tries to look down, tries to look at the person who's making him feel this wrecking ball of pleasure but every time he tries to raise his head Max's fingers knock against his prostate and Lewis throws his head back, close to sobbing.
"Fuck, look at you. You're so- fuck..." Max sounds ruined himself, his other hand holding Lewis's twitching thigh like a buoy, as if it's the only thing keeping him up, "Love you, Lewis."
Lewis tries to reply but he can't. Not with Max breathing against his aching cock, kissing the base while continuing to fuck him open and it's too much. He feels oversensitive.
"Max." He slurs, eyes blinking open with the edges blurred from unshed tears, "I'm- coming."
There's a stutter in Max's movements, "Yeah?" He breathes and sounds a bit crazed, "Think you deserve it?" The two fingers move in and out with a squelch, hitting Lewis's prostate dead-on, "Do you? Tell me, Lewis." His voice breaks a little and he speeds up his movement, "Tell me. Please."
Max doesn't let up, moving faster, deeper and harder and Lewis's head shoots up when the presssure is about to combust inside him, meeting Max's eyes who's already looking up at him, staring just at him as if he's a dream. There's sweat on Max's forehead, his hair still slightly damp but mostly dry, nonetheless a complete mess with few strands sticking go his skin. Lewis wants to ravage him.
"Lewis."
It's sounds like a plea, as if Max is imploring him to answer and it sounds beautiful on the Dutch's lips. Something in Lewis snaps.
"Yes." he breathes, his hips stuttering, "Yes, please. Please, Max. Deserve it."
He deserves it. He wants it, he deserves it and he gets it.
There's a tension falling off of Max's face, the Dutch's lips parted in wonder as he hits Lewis's prostate two more times and then Lewis is coming, arching off the bed he feels a twinge in his back, head pressed into the sheets while long white streaks of cum land on his stomach and chest. It washes over him, knocks the breath out of him as he clenches around Max's fingers still pushing in and out of him, letting him ride out the orgasm.
It's long, keeps going on as Max continues to prod at his prostate, rubbing at it teasingly it makes Lewis's muscles spasm even more. His body grows numb and only when he moves a hand down, intending to make Max slow down, does the Dutch let up, pulling his fingers out slowly.
Lewis sighs, one arm covering his eyes and his wet chest rising and falling. He clenches around nothing, his hole feeling a bit sore but nothing he can't handle for tomorrow. A wave of fatigue sloshes over him as his thighs fall open, muscles aching a bit. He hums contently when he feels a featherlight kiss being pressed to his knee before Max removes his leg from where it was resting over his shoulder.
"Perfect."
Lewis removes his arms to blink at Max who looks down at him, his gaze a lot calmer now than a few minutes prior. He seems satsified, even though-
Lewis glances down at the Dutch's boxers, "Let me-" he makes to sit up, orgasmic afterglow turning the attempt sluggish but he is stopped by Max shaking his head anyway.
"It's alright." He says quietly, "Tonight's about you. You deserve it." he whispers and crawls up to lock Lewis in a sweet kiss, uncaring of the sticky mess between them when their skins touch.
Lewis smiles into the kiss.