Chapter Text
And then he was kissing her.
Max had started off tentatively, his lips just brushing hers as his thumb lightly stroked her cheek. After a moment, he paused and whispered, “This okay?”
Furiosa smiled. “It’s good. I want more.”
She moved her hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer as she brought their lips together again. He slid his hands down and rested them on her waist, his grip loose enough that she could easily push him away if she wanted to. At the moment, though, she only wanted him closer. She teased his lower lip with her tongue until he parted his lips and deepened the kiss. He tasted like sun and sand and metal. She sighed contentedly and he gave a soft hum in response.
They kissed until she felt her knees grow weak and found herself clinging to him for support, pressing her body tightly against his. His fingers found their way under the hem of her shirt. The feel of his warm hands on her bare skin sent a wave of want coursing through her. She abruptly found herself feeling overwhelmed. She couldn’t do this, it was too much too soon, she needed space. He gave him a little shove and gasped, “Wait, stop.”
He backed away immediately and looked at her with concern.
“Sorry. I just…” She trailed off, unsure how to explain.
“It’s okay. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes met his. He looked completely sincere, but she doubted he was actually okay with the rejection. She sighed. “So. Are you going to run away now?”
“No,” he said matter-of-factly, then continued, “But, uh, does this… Should I sleep somewhere else tonight?”
She thought about it for a moment, then reached out to take his hand. “You know what? I think we can manage.”
The next morning was less awkward than Furiosa had expected. She and Max woken up side by side, shoulders touching. When she looked over at him, he shot her a shy smile that, coupled with a gravelly “good morning,” made her seriously consider climbing on top of him and kissing him again.
She resisted the urge and sat up, mumbling that she’d slept too late and should head downstairs before breakfast was over. Max rose to join her and it wasn’t until they entered the dining room and were greeted with surprised stares from the Sisters that it occurred to Furiosa that, in the past, she and Max had always staggered their morning entrances. They had never really done it on purpose – usually they were simply on different schedules – but in the back of her mind, she was aware that it helped stop rumors from spreading.
Max, either oblivious or indifferent to the gawking, grunted a good morning and made his way past them into the kitchen to get food.
Capable shot her a knowing grin. “I guess Drog wasn’t mistaken about what he thought he saw on the roof last night.”
Furiosa forced a note of sternness into her voice when she replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The Sisters exchanged glances and started laughing. Furiosa chose to ignore them and followed Max into the kitchen.
He glanced up at her. “Hey, I’m gonna eat on the way down. Told some of the boys I’d help with the lookout posts they’re putting up for the new patrols.”
“They girls aren’t making you feel uncomfortable, are they?”
“No. Are you feeling uncomfortable?”
She hesitated. “No.”
“Good.” He leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed out.
Furiosa gazed after him until she became aware of Capable’s presence in the doorway. She turned to find the younger woman smirking. “Well, that looked totally platonic to me.”
Furiosa turned to her, starting to get irritated. “You know, it’s really none of…”
“I know, I know.” The smirk left Capable’s face. “It’s not any of our business. We just care about you, Furiosa. You’ve been so amazing and strong and supportive of all of us this past year. We just want you to be happy. After everything we’ve been through, I think we all deserve some happiness, you know?”
Furiosa hesitated.
“If you want me to walk away and not say another word about it, I’ll do it. Just let me know that everything’s good. We’re your family and we’re here for you no matter what.”
Furiosa was moved despite herself. “I really appreciate you saying that, Capable. It… it means a lot. And everything is good. I think. I mean, it’s difficult. Neither of us are really sure of… anything, I guess."
“I’m just glad you’ve both finally come around. As obvious as it is that two of you want each other, we thought there’d be at least another few months before either of you acted on it. But you’re okay? I know it’s been a long time. You’re not in pain or anything?”
“What? Oh, no, we didn’t…”
“Oh, got it. I know it was really difficult for me when I first decided I wanted to sleep with Drog…”
“Wait, you and Drog are together?”
Capable smiled shyly. “Yeah, for a few weeks now. Anyway, I was terrified, at first. I mean, who wouldn’t be after what we’ve all been through? But it ended up being totally fine. Great, even. It’s totally different when you want it, too.”
“I’d hope so.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone so you can actually eat now. When you’re done, Dag has something she’d like to show up in the herb garden. Toast and Cheedo will probably want to chat at some point, too. And heads up, Cheedo is still a bit uncomfortable with sex stuff, so as far as she knows, tonight is a ‘date.’”
“I didn’t know tonight was anything,” Furiosa remarked dryly.
Capable laughed. “I'm sure.”
“And this here is Queen Anne’s Lace.” Dag handed Furiosa a final packet of seeds wrapped in old cloth. “If you take five milliliters of seeds and chew thoroughly once daily, it serves as fairly effective birth control.” She paused and sighed. “Wish I’d known that a few years ago. Not that I haven’t come to adore Angharad…”
“Look, I really appreciate this, but after everything I’ve put my body through, I doubt… Besides, I probably shouldn’t even be doing this anyway.”
Dag looked at her thoughtfully. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting him, you know.”
Furiosa raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I feel guilty?”
Dag shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t wanted anyone since before Joe. Maybe I never will. But I think that, if I did, I would feel guilty. Or at least strange about it.”
“It’s not…”
“Oh, I know it’s completely illogical. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be how I’d feel. You can’t control feelings as much as you’d like.”
“Fair.”
“I could give you the same advice I give the people who come to me with similar issues. Explain how our sexuality is sacred and we’re reclaiming it by making it an act of love again. I do truly believe that, by the way, but I know hearing it wouldn’t help me if I were in your situation, because I’d already understand that in theory. So instead, I’ll just say that you need to be patient with yourself. And when you start to panic, breathe through it. Remember who you are. Remember who he is. Look in his eyes and bring yourself back to him. And if you still want to stop, stop.”
Furiosa entered the armory to find Toast cleaning a line of revolvers. Toast looked subdued, the anxious energy from their conversation the day before gone, and Furiosa wasn’t sure whether she should be concerned.
“Hey, Toast. How did your talk with Cheedo go?”
Toast sighed. “Still unclear. She was really surprised and said she needed a few days. I’m trying not to think about it so I don’t go crazy. Anyway, sounds like your conversation went a whole lot better, huh?”
Furiosa shrugged. She really had no interest in discussing this any further.
Toast seemed to accept this and moved on. “So, I’ll be straight with you. I think Capable wants us to be doing some sort of rites of passage thing, like the Vuvalini do? I guess you guys had a thing where, before a woman… you know… did it for the first time, the other women in her family would all take time with her and pass on pieces of wisdom. It’s supposed to be a celebration and help make things easier for her, right?”
“Yeah, honestly, I take issue with a good deal of that. But I get that you’re all doing it because you care.”
“Fair enough. I was thinking about what type of wisdom I could offer you, and I guess I could tell you a lot of facts about things, hormones and physiology and such… You’re wincing.”
“Sorry.”
“No, that was kind of my feeling, too. And I’ve been looking forward to having you teach me more about different types of guns. So I was thinking, if it’s alright with you, maybe we can skip the wisdom and just go shoot some stuff? What do you say?”
Furiosa grinned. “That sounds wonderful.”
It was nearing sundown when Furiosa and Toast finished target practice. Furiosa would have been happy to keep going, but Toast told her that Cheedo was waiting for her down by the baths. Understandably, Toast declined to accompany her, so Furiosa went on her own. Cheedo peeked her head out of one of the changing rooms outside the baths and then came over to greet her.
“So, Capable tells me you have a date tonight.”
“Does she?"
Cheedo blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, I thought…”
“No, I’m being obnoxious. Let’s say I do. Did you have advice you wanted to give me, too?”
“I wouldn’t know what to say. I’ve never had a date. I might want to, one day, but maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will be lovely for you. And I want to help with that. The other Sisters and I figured that you probably didn’t have a ton of fancy clothes…”
“I do not have any fancy clothes, as a matter of fact.”
“Right. Well, my mom used to be a seamstress, you know, and I learned a bit from her. I was allowed to keep some of her and my aunts’ dresses when I was taken a few years ago. We thought it might be nice for you to be able to dress up and feel pretty on a first date, so I borrowed one and tailored it so it should fit you.”
“Cheedo, that’s very generous, but I…” Furiosa wasn’t quite sure how to respond. On the one hand, she would have been perfectly happy never putting on a dress again. On the other, Cheedo was being incredibly thoughtful and Furiosa wanted to encourage her to keep putting herself out there. She sighed and began to remove her prosthetic.
Cheedo took it from her, promising to drop it and her old clothes back in Furiosa’s room, then gave her a quick hug. “Alright, go take a bath and when you come back I can help you into the dress. I’m going to make you feel like Cinderella!” She paused and frowned. “The part where she has the transformation to go to the ball, I mean, not all the parts Toast told us are a misogynistic portrayal of learned helplessness."
“Well… thank you.”
“Though, I suppose Max isn’t really what you think of when you think ‘Prince Charming,’ is he? But he should be at least a bit cleaned up. Capable sent Drog to go help him get ready.”
A note of alarm crept into Furiosa’s voice. “Oh?”
“I think she meant, like, Drog would give him a comb and clean shirt, not shave his head and paint him white.”
“Let’s hope.”
When she was done in the bath, Furiosa wrapped a towel around herself and looked balefully at the door of the mercifully empty room. She wanted nothing so much as to get back into her comfortable clothes and slip out to go demolish something. The idea of the lacey fabric of the dress against skin raw from scrubbing made her wince. But who knew, maybe she’d end up liking it. Maybe Max would like it. She wished that didn’t matter to her.
She gave herself another minute of peace, then walked out to the changing room. Cheedo started helping her change right away. The dress was light pink, with a narrow skirt, a tight bodice, and a deep neckline. It had a long, gauzy right sleeve and Cheedo had adjusted the left so that the material simply draped down from the shoulder. Cheedo slipped high-heeled sandals on Furiosa’s feet and stepped back to examine her work. “You look beautiful.” She led Furiosa over to a tall mirror. “So, what do you think?”
Furiosa gaped. She barely recognized herself. Moreover, her eyes were immediately drawn to the many points of weakness in the outfit – the shoes were impractical to walk in, let alone run. The tight skirt impaired all but the smallest leg movements. The left shoulder was designed in a way that wouldn’t allow her to wear her arm. And, worst of all, there were no hiding places for weapons.
Still, Cheedo was trying to be nice and Furiosa knew she should be grateful, so she kept her mouth shut and forced a smile. “It’s lovely. Thank you, Cheedo.”
Cheedo beamed.
By the time Furiosa had completed the agonizingly slow walk to her bedroom in her new outfit, she felt twitchy and anxious. Steeling herself, she opened the door and found Max staring contemplatively out the window. He was wearing a clean grey button-down over his jeans, had combed his hair, and had shaved. He looked incredibly handsome, but Furiosa wasn’t sure she’d have been able to recognize him in a crowd.
He turned to face her and froze, blinking as he took her in. “Well,” he finally managed. “You look… different.”
Furiosa couldn’t help herself from letting out a short bark of laughter. “You know, Max, I don’t have a ton of experience with this type of thing, but I somehow doubt that’s what many women want to hear.”
He reddened and ducked his head. “Sorry. It’s just… a surprise.”
“Yeah. For me, too.”
He took a step towards her and tried again. “You look very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
He took another small step closer to her. There was a strange awkwardness to their movements that was new for them. Last night, everything had seemed to flow so naturally, but now, she couldn’t help feeling oddly disconnected from it all.
“Max,” she ventured. “What are we doing?”
“I have no idea.” He looked relieved to be able to say it.
“Then you know what? Let’s just… not. The boys were never able to get your car running, right? There’s no one down there right now, so we’d have the whole shop to ourselves. I bet between the two of us we can get her running before the sun comes up. What do you say?”
For the first time that night, Max smiled.
Three hours later, Furiosa and Max were well on their way to getting the engine running.
Furiosa couldn’t fault the Brothers for not being able to fix it on their own. It had taken nearly every tool at their disposal to get this far. She hated to admit it, but even she may not have been able to figure it out on her own. But once she and Max had gotten back into normal clothes and out into the mechanics’ shop, the effortless, mostly silent rapport they had clicked back into place.
Max was under the car and Furiosa, prosthetic back in place, had just finished replacing the engine’s fuel filter. She was enjoying the challenging work and easy companionship so much that she had nearly forgotten that anything was different between them.
And then Max slid out from under the car, covered in sweat and a touch of engine grease and Furiosa found that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. This was her Max. Noticing her stare, he stilled a moment, then lowered his arms slowly and turned to her. A small smile played on his lips.
She forced down the anxiety that was beginning to wash over her. The last time she was alone with a man in a locked room…
But no. This was different. Max was different.
She lowered the hood of the card looked back up at him. He took a step towards her and she felt what she at first thought was another wave of anxiety, but soon came to recognize as excitement. Anticipation, even.
He moved closer until he was standing mere inches away from her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his body against her skin. This close, the hungry look in his eyes was unmistakable.
So he wanted her, too. Not in a dress or on her knees, but like this. She gave him a playful smile. “You still think I look pretty now?”
“Right now,” he whispered. “You look gorgeous.”
With that, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him against her.
They kissed hungrily. There was nothing soft and gentle about it this time and it occurred to Furiosa that she should probably be more cautious, but that thought was drowned out by the rest of her body crying out to get closer, to take everything he had to give. She slipped her hand beneath his shirt and ran it over the taut muscles of his back before breaking away from him just long enough to tug at his shirt and whisper, “off.”
As he quickly complied, she began to unfasten the buckles on her left shoulder. She felt him watching her and paused, then gave him a slow nod and lowered her hand. As if in tacit acknowledgment of the trust she was granting him, Max moved carefully, almost reverently, as he undid the straps and slid them off her shoulder. He placed the metal arm on the table and turned back to her, glancing down at her shirt and awaiting her instruction. She nodded again and raised her arms as he slid the shirt up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she felt herself tense up at the sudden exposure. Sensing her mood, he kept his hands at his sides and his eyes on hers.
She took a deep breath.
She was Imperator Furiosa and she did not let fear get in her way. This was Max and she trusted him implicitly. She looked into his eyes and she found the heat there mingled with affection that she found reassuring. She could stop this at any time. But right now, she didn’t want to stop.
She exhaled.
And then she put her arms around his neck, drew him close, and whispered, “kiss me” in his ear. He readily obliged and, after a moment, she relaxed into the kiss. His hands came to rest on her hips and she was immediately thankful for their solidity and warmth. He broke the kiss to lift her up onto the table and she instinctively spread her legs so he could move in close to her. He kissed her again on the lips before making his way down the side of her neck to suck and nip at her pulse point as his fingers traced circles on the small of her back. She tilted her head back to allow him better access.
After a moment, he continued his downward exploration. He slid a hand up to cup one of her breasts and placed a series of light kisses along the top of the other, drawing a sigh from her. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue teasingly over a hardened nipple until she grasped the back of his head and pulled him closer. He sucked, gently at first, then harder and she felt heat pooling between her legs. She pushed him back a moment and slid off the table to help him remove the rest of her clothes.
She figured that he would rise and remove what remained of his own clothes, but instead he knelt down in front of her and began planting soft, breathy kisses along her hipbone. She was idly wondering whether she could go crazy from wanting when he replaced his lips with his hands and gently guided her back onto the table. She lay back and let him slide her legs over his shoulders.
He kissed her thighs, her hips, her navel, and it distantly occurred to her that she should feel vulnerable, embarrassed even, but he was making her feel so good she found it hard to care. And then he moved his mouth lower and her thoughts skidded to a halt.
Basil had done this for her once, long ago, and she remembered feeling fluttery and pleasant after and saying thank you. This was different. It was readily apparent that Max knew what he was doing and she had never felt anything like this before. She was thinking that she couldn’t imagine anything feeling better when he began switching between broad, flat strokes of his tongue and lightly sucking on her clit. She bit down hard on her fingers to suppress a moan.
She forced her eyes open so she could look at him. He hummed softly, sending another shiver running through her, then glanced up at her without breaking his rhythm. His blue-green eyes were shining, pupils blown, and she was hit with the sudden realization that he was enjoying this, too, that he was taking pleasure in pleasing her.
When she closed her eyes and moaned again, she made no effort to suppress it. He quickened his pace and she dug her fingers into the rough wood of the table. She was close now and her entire world felt like it had been narrowed down to the feeling of Max’s mouth on her. When she came, her orgasm hit her with the force of a tidal wave, leaving her breathless and incoherent.
Once she had come back to herself, she lifted her head to look down at him and gave him a shaky grin. Max, a satisfied smile on his face, planted a final kiss on her thigh before rising. Furiosa watched him lazily, admiring the hard lines of his body and the curve of his ass in those jeans when something suddenly clicked. He was still wearing jeans.
She sat up abruptly, flushing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That was… You are incredible and I was completely caught up and… Anyway, what… um… what do you want?”
His smile flickered. “I’m good.”
“But… I mean, don’t you…?”
“I don’t want to think about me. I just want to make you feel good.”
It was a concept that had never even occurred to her before - a man giving without taking. It made her want to give back. And she would - she would give and he would keep giving and in all that unselfish pleasure, maybe they could find, in each other, some sort of peace.