Work Text:
For some reason, Furiosa thought that Max would be really reserved in sex like he was in most aspects of life.
And at first, he was.
Deadly silent and so focused on her, never allowing himself to come before her. The most she’d hear of him was soft sighs in her skin and the gentle sound of his shivers on sheets. She thought he was naturally this way, just like she was ; her sighs were a bit louder, and she’d sometimes murmur his name (Max, Max, Max), but she wasn’t a talker. Like in regular life, they managed to converse in bed with looks.
(Well, actually, to be honest, she expected some grunts from him during sex. It wasn’t the first time she had been proven wrong, so she had quickly forgotten about it.)
And then, one day, it happened.
It had been a perfect day in the New Citadel and she had envisioned a perfect night, which was why she had not waited a single second before kissing him and throwing him on the bed. His smile had been -dare she say it- adorable and before they knew it, clothes and prosthetics were on the floor and hands were getting quite friendly.
Furiosa had taken charge, as it was most of times, and took her sweet time to kiss him everywhere. On his throat, right where his daily grunts came out; on his heart, beating furiously and proudly against his ribcage; on the crease of his thighs, the closest she’d ever go to his penis with her mouth. He stroked her arms, her shoulders, her back; and he looked at her with such wonder that when she finally, finally, sunk on him, she kissed his eyelids.
And then she started moving slowly, so slowly, her hand on his chest and her eyes on his face. She wanted to make it last, she wanted to see him lose his mind and snap his hips so hard he’d buckle her from her position. She wanted to feel shivers and half-stopped breath and rippling muscles trying not to relax too fast.
What she didn’t know she wanted and yet happened was a startlingly loud moan after a particularly hard thrust.
She froze, stunned, and watched him abruptly flying his right hand to his mouth to silence himself. He looked quite astonished at himself. They stared at each other, not quite sure of what just happened and-
Furiosa snorted, then laughed, couldn’t stop herself from freeing her feeling of sudden happiness.
Max closed his eyes, looking pained at himself, and Furiosa reached for the hand covering his lips, fighting him to let them come free.
“Let yourself -I want to hear it.”
He stubbornly kept his mouth closed and she started kissing it as she resumed her movement, trying to replicate the one.
“Come on, Max, it was wonderful, let me hear you again, you foolish man,” she murmured between kisses, her heart bursting with quiet happiness. She didn’t realize she was even talking more than she ever did in a day. “Come on you fool.”
“It’s not-” Max breathed, chasing her lips. “I don’t-”
“Let yourself go?”
She let their foreheads touch, slowing her movements to near stop, letting him take in and deal with the situation. He stroked the bottom of her back, shallowly breathe against her skin, then kissed her shoulder.
“I... I’ll try.”
She kissed him, her fool, and resumed a faster pace. Stared at his face and gently stroked his throat, waiting patiently for him not to consciously stop his voice. She felt one of his hand hold her hips and the other her ribcage, and he started to really meet her thrusts and -there. A soft whimper.
“That’s it.” She moved her hand to his belly. “Let me-”
Her thighs were starting to hurt, but she needed to hear him moan again, so she just started pounding herself on him.
Oh, did it feel good.
She almost missed his startled gasp. Smiling, squeezed her knees on his midriff and he laughed and, suddenly, every single sound he previously muted started coming out.
Moans. Mid-gasps. Murmurs of a forgotten God, halted questions for more. Little ah’s and oh’s and more and don’t stop and-
Her name.
Her climax was almost forced out of her, as she wanted to go on for longer. Was it her squeezing on him, or her marveled Max, or one last stutter in her hips that made him come -maybe was it all of it, and his sudden silence between two Furiosa, Furiosa seemed even sweeter than honey.
She gently laid on him, one ear on his trachea, listening to him breathe out his last spark of lust. Just as gently, he took her and slid out of her, wet and messy and so perfect that for one moment, just a fleeting second, she regretted not being able to conceive. But it flew away and she kissed his skin and thanked the day he was put on her way.
Her fool. Her Max, still unknown after all this time and yet closer to her heart than anything else.
After while she felt him kissing her forehead and getting up. She closed her eyes, wondering if he’ll come back to bed as usual, or if this time he’ll leave for a month or so, driving somewhere in the infinite desert, like the last time something unexpected happened in bed.
(To be fair that “something unexpected” was a gruesome flashback of his mysterious past. He didn’t say anything but she knew and she let him go, confident that if he ever came back, it would be resolved.)
A wandering finger stroked the back of her knees. Wordlessly she opened her legs and let him clean her up. She wondered how come she’d trust him like that, then chased the thought. No need to obsess over useless things.
“Come sleep with me,” she breathed when she felt him linger at her bedside after he threw away the wet cloth.
He covered them with a light blanket. It must have been way past midnight by now. Furiosa stared at his face, arms thrown around his shoulders.
“Hum.”
She smiled. “I liked it too.”
He snorted and turned over. Furiosa may or may not have cackled, and as sleep took over, blunt fingers intertwined with hers. Everything was perfect.