To say that Oscar was eager, would have drastically undersold how badly he wanted Max and how painfully aroused he was. He'd already pinned the dangerously attractive mob prince, and was toying with his delicate sack, when he grew bold enough to prod his opening for the first time. However, even as insanely hard as Oz was, Max's body seemed equivalently unyielding and didn't allow the punk's length much else to do other than to slide impatiently against him. Even that felt good, though. Coupled with another heated kiss, it would have been plenty to finish him off, given a few more strokes, if Max hadn't pulled back and stopped him...

"What's wrong?" Oscar's addled brain struggled to make sense of what his lover wanted at first, until Max reached up and popped open one of the small cabinets in the headboard of the bed and retrieved a bottle of lube which he promptly tossed at the punk.

"Figured that'd help a little," Max replied, grinning as he settled back into the position Oz had him in.

"Never opened, huh?" Oscar smirked when he found that the bottle still had the foil guard intact under the cap...meaning that at least in some capacity, he was first. First to fuck Max on his own plane? Man, that thought was an ego boost.

Max grinned, rolling his eyes as he crossed his wrists and rested them above his head. "There's a very thin list of people I'd trust enough."

Oscar tore the foil piece off with his teeth and worked a liberal amount of the slick substance onto his hands. One slathering Max's opening all the way to his balls, until he was nothing but a tanned and oiled picture of perfection awaiting tarnishing.

"Last chance to back out, Princess," Oscar teased, as his other hand worked some on his own shaft and then brought it inline with Max's opening again.

"Oz, if you don't get inside me right now, I'll find a way for my staff to throw you off this plane."

This time, Oscar didn't hold back. He eased his weight into his hips by degrees, steadily applying more pressure until he forced his way in. A groan of satisfaction left him as he felt Max's body stretch and strain to accommodate his length. He edged in a bit further before pulling out entirely, re-lathering and shoving back in.

Max felt like he'd had the wind knocked clear out of his lungs. This wasn't his first time being on the receiving end, but it was certainly the first time in a long while. Where his lust had waned just a little to nervousness before, feeling Oscar inside of him increased it tenfold.

Oscar repeated the same technique a few more times, until he could glide freely in and out without much resistance, then settled into a nice even pace while he leaned in to kiss his partner deeply.

Max eagerly received the kiss; tongue dueling briefly with Oz's before relenting, melting into the tender exchange. He'd never been fucked like this before. This felt honest. This was passionate.

This was unlike Oscar.

Normally, he'd be chasing down his climax like a jackrabbit, with only a single goal in mind. This time, however, even with how incredibly turned on he was, Oscar seemed to be savoring the moment, or at least trying to. But true to who he was, he just couldn't resist the inevitable for very long.

After only a few minutes, he gave into his desire and pulled out just as he felt himself reaching the end, finishing himself off with his hand and letting his orgasm seep across Max's bronze stomach.

Gasping, Max stared at the ceiling of the cabin for a minute, blinking in confusion before propping himself up with his hands. His heavy lidded gaze, slid over Oscar's gleaming skin to the mess on his own... He lifted Oscar's chin and before he could even get a snarky word out, he just had to kiss those soft, pink lips again... Had to relish the feel of them...which also led to a little inspiration.

"You're still gonna finish me off, right?" Max asked in a playful, almost innocent tone, rubbing his thumb across Oscar's bottom lip. He knew it wouldn't take Oz long. He'd already been pretty damned close.

Oscar was too spent to argue, even if he'd wanted to, which he certainly didn't. He gave Max's thumb a playful nip before sinking down to his knees and taking hold of the anaconda that was Max's cock. Apparently, even nature was unable to humble the handsome son of a bitch, Oscar thought, as he fit what he could between his lips and into his mouth, using his hands to caress and message the rest. Max's sack was already tight, and when he slipped a finger into him, that proved to be the final straw that tipped him over the edge.

Max's muscles tightened and his back arched completely off of the crisp, starched comforter. His shuttered breath caught in his throat as came, one tight fist in Oz's hair keeping the punk close until he'd swallowed the evidence of Max's orgasm.

"...Holy shit," Max finally managed, once his head was clear enough for any comprehensible speech. He couldn't help but stare adoringly at Oz, and it was a little embarrassing, but also funny enough to make him chuckle. "I lov-" Max stopped. His heart was still hammering in his chest.

Would Oscar really take him seriously if he finished that thought right now? ...Laying there, sweaty and panting...dressed in nothing but his watch and Oz's cum, gazing at him like a love-sick puppy? Or would he dismiss it as the hazy-headed ramblings of a man thoroughly lost in the wake of a fantastic and much-desired lay?  

Oscar let out a breathless chuff as he collapsed onto the vacant half of the bed beside his partner. "Yeah...we're a... pretty good team..." he murmured out, between increasingly slower breaths, as he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to over twenty-four hours without sleep. The afterglow coupled with the thin veneer of weed and booze had the punk completely out within five minutes.

Max reluctantly pulled himself out of the bed, and took a quick shower. Once he was in a fresh pair of boxer briefs and sleep pants, he crawled back onto the bed to just lay next to Oz, lightly stroking his temple or his hair a few times between dozing himself.

About four hours later, Max woke up to a notification on his watch competing with Oscar's snoring. A big smirk slipped across his face, and he rubbed his eyes while he sat up to check it.

"Mm..." he hummed, yawning and reaching for his phone to send a few texts.

By the time Max woke Oscar up, the mafia prince was already dressed; holding a champagne flute in one hand and some clothes in his other. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, at this rate, your food's gonna get cold," he said, lightly tossing the undershirt and briefs at Oz. 

Oscar stared at the clean clothes in confusion for a moment. It never ceased to amaze him how things he needed just materialized out of nowhere around Max. Then realization set in as his mind began to fully wake up. "Wait... How long was I out?" Oscar turned to look out the round window, and instead of clouds he saw a runway and an airport.

"Long enough for us to land, and for me to send a runner out to my favorite restaurant in Tokyo," Max replied casually. "I was joking about the food getting cold, by the way. It just got here, and some of it is served cool anyway. You hungry?"

Oscar's stomach replied before he had a chance, letting out a grumbled complaint loud enough for them both to hear. "...Starving. But first," the punk said as he got up and headed to the shower.

For what it was, the shower was actually very nice, and after drying off and getting dressed, he felt a lot better. While he was fussing with his long bangs in the mirror, his stomach let out another groan.

"I know, I know!" he hushed. As he turned to leave the bedroom portion of the jet, and return to the main seating, he stopped. While he didn't have problems parading himself in front of Max and his henchmen in just an undershirt and some underwear, he was curious what else Max had stashed in the jet. There weren't any proper clothes in the tiny closets next to the sink, but he did find something much better and far more fitting.

"Oh, yeah."

The next moment, he was stepping out into the sitting area in a fluffy cream bathrobe, with the Gallagher family crest branded across the pocket, as casually as if it were his own.

Max was sitting at the table, which he'd had set as if they were in a formal dining room, only without all of the fussy silverware. It sported a black table cloth, and a cluster of three elegant coppery-gold cocktail glasses that held fresh-cut peonies and wisteria. The LED strip lights lining the cabin were set low, to add a sexy touch to the atmosphere, but not so dim that they'd struggle to see the spread of beautiful food laid out for them.

The mafia prince beamed at Oscar, holding out his hand to motion for him to sit. "Dinner is served~" 

Oscar's grin turned from cocky to slightly nervous, as he took in the distinctly romantic vibe. "Eh, what's with the dating-show mood lighting?" he wondered as he sat down.

Max's eyes widened for a second, and he let out a slightly nervous laugh; a rare flush breaking across his bronze skin. "I was going more for 'romantic'," he said smoothly while pouring himself some sake. 

"Alright, ya got me." Oscar started to laugh until he realized that Max was serious, and his chuckle slowly faded into confusion. "Wait, seriously?" The punk's face visibly paled in terror.

Max bit his bottom lip. His smile looked strained as he eyed the variety of sushi, fingers hovering with indecision on which to snatch first. Was Oscar really that surprised? For some reason, the thought kinda hurt... Scratch that, it actually hurt a lot. Max could physically feel it lancing his chest. "Is...there something wrong with that?" he wondered, gorgeous dark amber eyes suddenly fixed on Oz again.

"It's just kind of...ya know...gay." The punk followed it with a laugh that didn't sound amused at all. It sounded worried.

The laughter that came out of Max was completely unrestrained, and he had to sit the piece of sushi he'd picked up back down. He laughed until he was nearly in tears, and gasping for air. It was only so hilarious because it was true...

And in a very serious, completely unfunny manner, he knew that probably really wasn't okay to Oscar... In the very same way it wasn't okay to his own parents. They both occupied completely separate worlds... One of raw, cruel, survival for Oz, and cutthroat, privileged, excess for Max... Yet neither of them had the power to change the way their relationship could and would be perceived by others...

And that was bad.

That was dangerous.

"It is totally gay," Max finally managed, shaking his head as he stood up and fetched the little controller for the lights. "I dunno what I was thinking. Just. The lights, and the buzz, and the sex, you know... I was just..." he let out a frustrated sigh as he sat down and the lights came up. "Wanna eat?" he asked, his tone much more lighthearted than it'd been a moment ago. "This shit is delicious," he added, stuffing his own mouth.

Max wasn't giving up on this, though. He'd made Oz uncomfortable, and he could see that, and maybe he needed to back peddle before he really did set their relationship back, back, but this was just a play gone a little askew. That was all. The game wasn't over yet. Wasn't lost. Far from it. 

Oscar still looked a little uncomfortable, and it didn't have anything to do with the lights. It wasn't that what they were doing was gay... Hell, he'd messed around with his fair share of guys, but that's always what it ended as too. Messing around. Casual fun. Nothing serious. Nothing emotional...

He'd read Max all wrong.

He wasn't trying to flex on him all this time... He'd been trying to date him, and that was what Oscar couldn't wrap his head around.

The punks' stomach groaned. He was hungry, so he just grabbed the nearest thing to him, shoved it into his mouth, and swallowed. "Heh. It's good... Really, really good," Oscar agreed.

Max had stopped chewing, and this time he was the one who looked uncomfortable as his face paled...He looked scared, actually. "Are you okay?" he asked as he quickly began to pour a cup of what looked like ice water and pushed it toward Oscar. "Pretty sure that was a glob of fucking wasabi paste with a slice of ginger stuck to it that you just put in your mouth..."

"Oh..." Well, that explained why his eyes had started to water like crazy. Oscar downed half a glass so fast that he couldn't even tell what had been in it at first. "I'm—I don't—look, I don't know how to do romantic," a red-faced Oscar sputtered.

Snickering, Max lifted one of the cloth napkins off the table and pulled the ring off of it before offering it to Oz. His expression softened and grew more sincere. He gazed at Oscar for a long moment before saying, "then let's just do us."

I absolutely love the moment when Oz realizes Max really likes him! x3 Any predictions for what's coming next? >>

Shout out to RievnSilence7 ! Thanks so much for your support!!