I just wanna make you laugh, I just wanna see that smile

[the_marshal]

Who| Wyatt and Maximus
What| Bbs learn to use their words.
Where| Wyatt's room
When| The night after this and this
Notes/Warnings| Some swearing probably, and the usual Wyatt and Max warnings just in case.



He spent the night in the park, laying beneath a cloudy sky, wishing for stars. (Wishing for a lot things.) He woke with dirt on his face, his hands reaching for something that wasn't there. Cold and aching from more than just the night on the ground.

A part of him, a bigger part than he cared to admit, wanted to keep hiding. Wanted to pretend that if he didn't address it, it wouldn't be happening, but he knew better than that.

Knew Max deserved better than it.

His chest still hurt. His throat was still tight.

But he waited. Sitting on the edge of the bed as the hours passed, trying to figure out what he supposed to say.

(How he was supposed to live without Max.)

Comments

[the_marshal]

It had been a touch out of anger, but still he missed it when it was gone. Felt even emptier for it, well Max pulled away, taking Wyatt's anger with him.

Leaving him tired. And sad.

"I ain't her, Max," he said lowly, as if reading the man's mind. "Ya didn't leave me a world away, unable to follow. I'm right here, every day. I can see ya, but I can't--"

He started to reach out, but stopped, his hands falling back too. Curling at his sides.

He took a breath, pushed it back out.

"...But maybe someday bein' Wyatt'll be enough. If we both make through to then, we can try again."

[gluteus]

He should his head - slowly at first - but with increasing intensity. He had failed Wyatt, utterly, completely, and he hadn't realised it, and now it seemed too late.

If we both make through to then, we can try again, Wyatt's words echoed, and it made his throat tighten and dry up. He reached out, fingers gripping the back of Wyatt's neck, pulling him firmly until their forehead's touched and holding him there.

"I would not make it to any future without you," He said, roughly, gravel in his throat. "Don't, Wyatt. If I have lost us so much time, do not force me to lose more."

[the_marshal]

He ached, in his chest - the hole there under his ribs, and deep in the pit of his gut. His breath washed against Max's lips, in a warm shudder.

"I love ya, Max. More than I--" He reached up without meaning to, but needing to, his palm rough and warm on the side of Max's neck, thumb brushing his jaw. "Yer what makes this place worth it. Despite everythin', all of it, I'm glad they took me, 'cause I met you... but for all that, I don't want ya here, if ya don't want to be."

[gluteus]

"I don't want to be here," He mumbled roughly, quiet and only for them. He didn't pull his hand back, didn't pull away.

"I don't think anyone should be here. But I want to be with you. The rest... is meaningless."

[the_marshal]

He wanted to stay quiet, to just accept that, but he had more to say - that he had to say, or this was just going to come back up again. That wriggling worry he'd set aside, hoping for a better time that had never come.

"I'll never be like them. I'll never know what it's like to be Roman, to be a gladiator..." His forehead wrinkled against Max's as his mouth pulled and twisted. His fingers flexed on the back of his neck. "An' I'll never be like her. I'll never-- I can't give ya a family...."

[gluteus]

"I've never wanted you to be them," He murmured lowly. "Nor do I--" He cut off, unsure how to word it. "You have already given me a family, Wyatt. I don't require sons, or daughters. I've no wish to replace my son, and no wish to replicate the life I might have had."

He pulled back just enough to be able to meet Wyatt's eyes - his own sad, apologetic, and worried.

"I have only ever wanted you, as you are."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt's eyes opened, tracking uncertainly over Max's face as he spoke. Flashing with a cautious hope, a flicker of warmth, as they tangled with the other man's.

He swallowed thickly, his mouth opening, closing, and then leaned in to touch his lips against Max's forehead. A light, hesitant touch that turned into a gentle kiss before he pulled back again.

"Yer all I've ever wanted, even back before I really knew why. ...We ain't, I don't know--" He paused, not knowing how to put it, it wasn't something he had experience with, the idea preposterous in another life. Before. "But this is it, for me. I know it. You an' me."

[gluteus]

He drew in a deep breath, let it out through his nose, and nodded, his grip on Wyatt's neck tightening slightly before he pulled him close, replying to Wyatt's careful kiss with a much more sure one of his own, pressing his lips to Wyatt's with a firm agreement.

"This is it," he rumbled lowly. "I will not fail you again, Wyatt."

[the_marshal]

"You've never failed me, Max. Upset me some, but I expect that's mutual."

His mouth dared to twitch, a small curl at one corner, and he moved to lean his forehead against Max's again. That small connection he'd missed so terribly.

"I've been a fool too." He took another kiss, lingering as the long month's of tension eased. "I'm sorry."

[gluteus]

He didn't smile. Whatever Wyatt said, he knew the failure that sat heavily on his shoulders. But he took the kiss, returned it, slowly, carefully.

"Forgive me?" He asked in a quiet rumble. Wyatt didn't need his. He'd done nothing needing forgiving.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt truly didn't believe there was anything to forgive, the fault lay with both of them, a misunderstanding for his part, let go too long. Foolish jealousy. A small pettiness. But he knew Max well enough to know the words were important to him.

"I already did," he murmured, kneading the back of Max's neck. "...Will ya come to bed now?"

[gluteus]

He nodded, pressing his forehead to Wyatt's.

"I hadn't realised that I had left it," he murmured lowly, before leaning in to take another long, slow kiss.

[the_marshal]

His hand wrapped around Max's bicep, fingers brushing the pad of muscle in the wide arm of his tunic, thumb circling warm skin. A firm, rhythmic massage.

"I won't ask anythin' of ya that ya don't want'a give," Wyatt told him, lips moving slowly against Max's, breath mingling with their kisses. "But for the love'a God, Max, don't shut me out. We do this together, er not at all."

[gluteus]

"You never have," Maximus assured him in a quiet rumble as he slowly took a step toward the bed, pulling Wyatt along with him.

"I'm right here with you," he whispered quietly. "Together. I promise."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt's breath plumed, a sound rumbling into his chest - half-amusement, half-affirmation.

"Ya better be, ya bastard." It was said only with affection, the only bite in the nip of his teeth at Max's jaw, his arm coming around him, palm slipping through the arm of the tunic to skim across the warm plane of the Roman's back. Fingers finding purchase in the valley of his spine. "I'm a miserable cuss without ya."

[gluteus]

A very small smile came to his lips, slowly, his eyes softening slightly.

"... I think neither of us does very admirably without the other," He admitted in a quiet rumble. He pulled in a deep breath, Wyatt's warm hand on his back something he hadn't realised just how much he missed. He reached out, carefully undoing the first few buttons of Wyatt's shirt.

[the_marshal]

His head dipped to watch, liking just the sight of Max's hands, steady and strong. Enjoying just the moment, the simpleness of it.

Of feeling for the first time in - longer than he cared to think about - how the ground felt steady beneath his feet again. How the world felt righted, now that Max was back in it.

The problems weren't solved, by any means, but laying them out, facing them together... that's all he'd wanted.

"Oh?" he murmured, mouth twitching. His eyes flashing as he glanced back up. "You were daydreamin' about snatchin' off all that fine hair'a Nasir's too, were ya?"

[gluteus]

"No, mostly death," He admitted, not joking at all, though he recognized that Wyatt was attempted to tease him.

He was very methodically working his way through buttons.

"I have... difficulty... thinking of much else, sometimes, without you."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt went silent, the room filled only with the sound of fabric, rustling softly beneath Max's hands.

His fingers skimmed slowly along Max's spine, a rough caress, up and down, and back up again.

"There's a lot'a things I didn't realize about myself until I met ya," he said softly, slowly, a whisper between them. "I'm -- better, when I'm with ya. Stronger, braver. I dream more. I hope for things, want things."

He breathed, muscle brushing against Max's fingers as he inhaled.

"I'm happy. So much happier for jus' sharin' my day with ya."

For even a moment, a string of heartbeats, his day was that easy to make. ...He'd never know that about himself either. That he could be so easily contented.

That it would be possible through one person.

"It all goes grey without ya. Like somebody went an' stole my sun."

[gluteus]

"I'm sorry, Wyatt," He murmured again, low and contrite, his eyes on his hands instead of on Wyatt's face. The last button came undone and he pushed the shirt from Wyatt's shoulders, spreading his hands out over bare skin, instead.

He leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to Wyatt's throat.

"I won't steal it again."

[the_marshal]

"Max--"

Wyatt moved back with the kiss, arms slipping away as he found the edge of the bed and sat again as he had when Max had first come in. But this time he met Max's gaze easily, readily, as he reached up and curled his fingers in the hard leather belt.

"I ain't mad. I wasn't even really mad before. I worried, is all." He gave him a shake, enough to rock him lightly on his heels. "Yer my everything, Max. I know, yer hurtin', an' I knew I wasn't helpin'. I jus' foolishly started thinkin' I was makin' it even worse."

[gluteus]

"You never would," Maximus murmured, before slipping a knee onto the bed at Wyatt's side, and gently pressing him down to the bed with a firm kiss.

"You could never make it worse," He repeated again, low gravel in his throat, lips on Wyatt's before they trailed down his throat.

[the_marshal]

Warmth was blooming under Max's lips, small tingling brands left in Wyatt's skin as the man moved. A familiar tightening taking hold in his chest, in his gut.

A low kick of lust, yes, but also so much more. Something so much stronger.

He reached for him, taking him into his arms again, a knee pressing against the hard column of Max's thigh.

"I'm sorry," he rumbled again, fingers threading through Max's close-cut hair. "I shouldn't have doubted." He shifted to prop himself up on an elbow, fingertips pressing against the back of Max's neck to coax him back, taking another kiss.

"It's enough, now, to know. I can wait," he whispered, roughly. "Ya don't have to--"