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Max is sitting on the bench at the foot of her bed, watching the green-haired woman sleep in the soft, uneven morning light. The room still smells faintly like smoke and salt, clinging to everything from the night before.
What’d I tell ya? I knew you’d be there. You always are.
Chloe’s words echo, low and certain.
They had managed it. Somehow. Solved the Caledon fire. Saved the students. Moses. Safi. She'd saved Chloe.
They’d stood together watching the observatory burn, hands locked so tightly Max’s fingers had gone numb.
It already feels unreal now. Like something she rewound out of instead of survived. Like it hasn't quite caught up to her yet.
The rest of the night blurred: the drive back in silence, the weight of everything pressing down. No words. Just…there.
They’d fallen into bed like it was the only thing left to do.
Max had woken early. She hadn’t been able to stay still. Not with all of it buzzing under her skin. Not with Chloe right there.
Chloe stirs and rolls onto her side, rousing Max out of her thoughts. The blankets slip down a little, exposing the curve of her back, the ink traced along her shoulder, lines Max could draw from memory. A scatter of freckles dots the curve of her shoulder blade. Max had counted them once. Or tried to.
Max blinks. She doesn't remember Chloe taking her shirt off last night.
Chloe Price. Shirtless. In her bed.
It settles over her all at once—how familiar this feels. How impossible it is. Like no time has passed at all.
She loves Chloe so much.
The thought lands so quietly it almost catches her off guard. It's steady, old as anything. Almost two decades of it. Even when they weren’t speaking. Even when they’d broken each other. It had never really gone anywhere.
Max turns the ring on her finger slowly, thinking.
She could still lose this. Lose Chloe.
“You’re staring at me, hippie.”
Max startles.
Chloe is awake, blinking up at her through smeared eyeliner and messy green hair. She looks exhausted. She looks beautiful.
“Sorry,” Max says, quietly. “I just—” She trails off, fingers still fidgeting with her ring.
Chloe pushes herself up with a quiet groan and reaches across the bed, catching Max’s hand.
“Doesn’t really feel real yet,” she says, voice rough with sleep. “Any of it. The fire. Us.”
She gives Max a small, crooked smile. “The future. I get it.”
She squeezes Max’s hand. Her thumb drags absently over Max’s knuckles, catching on the faint constellations of freckles there.
“Yeah,” Max says softly.
“We’re partners in time,” Chloe murmurs, leaning in, brushing her other hand along Max’s cheek. “Kinda hard to top that.”
Max presses into the touch before she can stop herself.
“And now we’ve got all this time,” Chloe adds, quieter. “To just…be.”
Max’s jaw tightens.
Chloe’s hand is warm against her skin. So achingly familiar. Her eyes drift, just for a second, to the edge of the blankets, the line of Chloe’s collarbone, and then lower.
Her stomach flips.
Shit.
“Hey.” Chloe’s voice shifts, softer now.
“You’re somewhere else.”
“Talk to me, Super Max,” she murmurs, thumb brushing Max’s cheekbone.
Max flushes.
“I’m not—I mean—nothing’s wrong, I just…”
“I missed you,” she finishes, too quickly.
Her eyes betray her immediately, flicking downward again. Collarbone, the hollow of Chloe’s throat, the slow rise and fall of her breathing—
A quick glance toward the floor, Chloe’s jeans kicked off and abandoned.
Chloe follows the glance and pauses.
Then she laughs quietly, hand dropping to Max’s thigh.
“Oh...” she says, a hint of a grin tugging at her lips. “Okay. Yeah. Got it.”
Max’s face goes red. “No! I mean—yes—but that’s not— I didn’t— I just didn’t know you—”
Chloe leans forward and kisses her, cutting her off instantly.
The kiss is warm and devastatingly familiar, like no part of them had ever really forgotten how to do this.
Chloe’s hair brushes Max’s cheek, soft and slightly tangled. Max’s hands come up to Chloe’s face, holding her there, grounding herself in something real. Chloe kisses her deeper this time, a little rougher, teeth catching her lip before easing it away again.
Max exhales into it, shifting forward, climbing onto the bed—onto Chloe—almost without noticing. The world narrows—Chloe beneath her, sheets twisted under Max’s knees, the air still warm from sleep.
Her body remembers—the angle of Chloe’s mouth, the little way she tilts into kisses.
Chloe lets out a quiet gasp against her mouth as Max’s fingers tangle in her hair.
God, Max has missed touching her.
For a second, she hesitates. This is how it always starts. Too easy. Too fast. And this is how it had fallen apart.
She breaks the kiss to look at Chloe beneath her, breathless, eyes a little wide, lips flushed from Max’s mouth. There's something like surprise there, but not resistance.
“Max,” Chloe says softly, voice still rough. “Hey…a lot happened this weekend.”
Her hand comes up, resting lightly at Max’s side.
“You sure this is where your head’s at right now?”
Max exhales sharply, something pulling tight inside her.
“I—yeah,” she says, quieter than she meant. “I just…”
She presses her lips together, searching for it.
“I don’t want to not do this again,” she finishes, a little uneven.
That's closer to the truth. Neither of them speaks for a moment.
Then Max moves. The blankets are still in the way—too much distance, too much barrier—and she pushes them down to Chloe’s waist, a little clumsier than she intended.
Her pulse jumps.
The metal of Chloe’s piercings glints in the light, drawing Max’s gaze.
For a second, Max remembers a different room. Music too loud. Chloe grinning through the adrenaline, grabbing her hand after like it didn’t even hurt, like it was nothing. Max hadn’t believed her then, either.
Chloe smirks up at her, catching the shift instantly, teeth worrying her lower lip for a second.
Max can't help it. She's drawn into Chloe like gravity. The lines of her body, the small details Max knows and doesn't know anymore, the way Chloe's chest rises and falls under her.Max can feel the years between them all at once.
“Like what you see?” Chloe murmurs, tipping Max’s chin back up.
Max blinks, flushed, completely caught.
“I—” She huffs, embarrassed. “Yeah.”
Understatement of the year.
Her hands hover for a second, uncertain now that she's here. The room suddenly feels too quiet.
“Chloe…” she starts, softer. “Can I—?”
Chloe’s head tips back, a soft, familiar grin breaking through.
“You’re unbelievable,” she says. “You look at me like that and you’re still asking permission?”
Her hands slide to Max’s hips.
“Yeah, you can,” she adds, voice dropping slightly. “Don’t stop.”
Max smiles to herself, tension easing a little, but she still feels it. That same hesitation. The memory of where they’d left things. The last time they’d been together like this.
She stills for half a second. Chloe feels it.
“Hey,” she says, softer now. “Max.”
Max meets her eyes.
“I’m here,” Chloe says. “Okay?”
Max nods, more easily this time.
“Okay,” she echoes.
Chloe shifts beneath her, pushing herself up against the headboard, pulling Max with her until she's straddling her fully now—close and unavoidable.
Max gives a small, nervous laugh at the movement.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “You’re—”
“Yeah,” Chloe cuts in, grinning. “I know. You’re obsessed.”
Max rolls her eyes with a smile.
And then she closes the distance. It isn't a decision so much as a collapse into her, like Max had been holding herself at the edge of something for too long and finally stopped resisting it.
Chloe meets her instantly. Warmth, everywhere. It catches Max off-balance. Chloe’s hands slide beneath her shirt, settling at her waist like she already knows the shape of her without looking.
Chloe breaks away only to press her lips to Max’s throat, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as she moves downward. Max tilts into it automatically, fingers tightening in Chloe’s hair as if her body remembered before her mind did.
Max lets her hand slide down, gentle at first and then more sure, her fingers moving over Chloe’s breasts. She rolls Chloe’s left nipple between her thumb and forefinger, the cool press of metal catching under her thumb. Chloe’s breath hitches, her hips lifting without thinking, her mouth never leaving Max’s neck.
Every touch feels like something coming back to her. A soft moan slips out of her before she can stop it—then her hand falters, just for a second.
“Hey,” Chloe murmurs against her skin, voice low, steady. “You still with me?”
Max nods too fast.
“Yeah,” she manages. “Yeah, I’m here.”
Max shifts, moving back into her the moment there's space between them.
“Max,” Chloe says—softer now.
That tone makes her pause. She looks down.
Chloe has pulled back enough to see her face. Hair a mess, lips parted slightly, eyes searching, not teasing anymore.
“You okay?” Chloe asks. “Like… really okay?”
Max swallows, voice catching in her throat.
Chloe is here. Solid. Warm. Real. Not a memory she could undo or rewrite. Just Chloe. Her mouth, her skin under her fingertips.
The way it feels brand new and completely known at the same time.
Like muscle memory for a life she’d never really left.
“I think so,” Max says quietly. “Yeah. I am.”
Chloe makes a quiet noise that's half approval, half relief.
“Good,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb over Max’s cheek. “Don’t drift off on me, okay?”
Max nods, a faint smile pulling at her mouth.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Chloe studies her for a second longer, then kisses her again.
Max lets herself fall into it completely, the sheets shifting under her as she moves closer. She sighs and rolls her hips against Chloe, enjoying the way the seam of her pants rubs against her. She can feel herself getting wetter, the sensation immediate and impossible to ignore. She whines slightly as Chloe’s hot mouth begins to suck into her neck.
“Your shirt’s gotta go,” Chloe murmurs against her, tugging lightly at the hem. Max doesn't hesitate, yanking it over her head quickly, tossing it aside.
Cool air brushes against her skin where the fabric had been. Chloe is staring at her hungrily.
“Fuck, Max,” she breathes, her hands tightening at Max’s waist, pulling her in like she can't quite help herself. Chloe sighs before licking a long line from her collarbone to the skin between her breasts. Max shivers at the feeling of Chloe’s tongue against her, fingers tangling in her hair again, her other hand gripping Chloe’s shoulder to stay grounded.
She shivers even more as Chloe’s tongue begins to circle her nipple, her skin hardening under the wet heat. Chloe groans and rolls her hips up instinctively. The movement is so familiar Max almost loses her breath.
“C-Chloe?” she manages, barely, feeling Chloe’s fingers come up to twist her other nipple.
Chloe hums in response, distracted, not stopping, as she begins to suck harder.
Max whimpers.
“Chloe,” she says again, softer this time, but more insistent.
Chloe withdraws just enough, lips parted, eyes flicking up to her.
“You okay?”
Max stills, cheeks flushing hot.
“Yes— I just…”
“Please.”
The word comes out smaller than she meant it to.
I want—” She laughs softly at herself, embarrassed and a little overwhelmed. “I need to taste you.”
Her voice drops at the end, almost shy now.
Chloe’s expression flickers—something surprised and soft.
“I—” Max hesitates, then pushes through it. “I know what I said about your lips in the Abraxas basement when I was, um, very not sober,” she adds, a little sheepish. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
Chloe blinks up at her for half a second and then breaks into a grin, clearly delighted.
Max has the immediate, overwhelming urge to take a picture of her right then.
“Max Caulfield,” Chloe says, her grin widening. “You’ve been thinking about that this whole time?”
“I just…need to know you’re real,” Max adds quietly.
Chloe's teasing grin slips. Her thumb brushes slowly along Max’s jaw, expression softening into something almost unbearably gentle.
Then her hands slide back to Max’s hips, squeezing lightly.
“C’mere.”
Max barely has time to react before Chloe moves, guiding her off her lap and shifting them both, fluid and easy, until Chloe's standing at the edge of the bed. The floor creakes faintly under her bare feet.
Max feels herself throb again. She whines softly, watching her. She can't look away.
The curves of Chloe’s body draw her in. Her stomach, her thighs, the way she's standing there completely aware of what she's doing to Max. Max also sees the very clear wet spot against the gray fabric of Chloe's underwear.
She shifts on the bed, pressing her thighs together, a soft, frustrated noise slipping out of her.
Chloe notices and a slow, deliberate smile tugs at her mouth as she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her boxers, dragging them down just enough to make Max go still.
Not rushing. Not even a little.
Max bites her lip hard, her gaze dropping. She's staring at the patch of hair between Chloe’s legs and how her thighs are glistening with her wetness.
Max feels like she's waiting for her brain to catch up and tell her to stop staring. It doesn't.
“Yeah?” Chloe murmurs, voice edged with that teasing tone Max knows all too well.
“Gonna keep staring or are you gonna do something about it, Caulfield?”
Max swallows, pulse racing, and nods before she can overthink it.
“Come here,” she says, softer, almost a plea, patting the bed beside her.
Chloe holds her gaze for a second longer, deciding how much to drag this out. Then she moves, climbing back onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as she settles in beside Max without breaking eye contact.
“Take your pants off,” Chloe says. It's not a question.
Max shudders, but she doesn't hesitate, pushing them down quickly, a little clumsy in her urgency.
Chloe chuckles fondly, eyes flicking over her in a way that makes Max’s stomach flip.
Max reaches to push her underwear down too, but Chloe’s hand catches her wrist.
“Mm no,” Chloe murmurs. “Leave those.”
Max blinks, flushed.
Chloe’s thumb brushes over her hip, slow, deliberate.
“You know I like seeing how wet you get when you go down on me.”
Max lets out something between a moan and a laugh, and climbs back over her, pressing herself close, clinging to the contact.
She’d missed the way their bodies fit. The way Chloe holds her.
Chloe kisses her again, deeper this time, slipping her tongue into Max’s mouth. Max meets her instantly, messily, not holding anything back. Chloe’s hands settle at her hips again, guiding more than gripping, and then her leg shifts, knee pressing up between Max’s thighs.
Max breaks the kiss, her head dropping forward for a second as the sensation hits.
“Chloe—” she breathes.
Chloe smirks up at her.
Max huffs softly, a little unsteady, but she doesn't stop.
She kisses her way down Chloe’s body slowly—neck, collarbone, the swell of her breasts, pausing just long enough in each place like she's remembering it as she goes. She bites at Chloe's nipple and Chloe makes the exact same sound she used to.
By the time Max reaches her stomach, her mind is completely empty. All she can think about is Chloe. The way that everything about her feels like coming home.
Max shifts lower, settling between Chloe’s thighs, her hands gentle but sure as she guides her legs apart. Chloe leans back into the pillows, one arm slipping behind her head, the other hand tangling lightly in Max’s hair.
Max starts slowly, pressing soft, wet kisses up Chloe’s thighs, lingering enough to feel the way Chloe reacts beneath her.
She pauses for a second and breathes her in with a soft sigh, not even trying to hide it.
Chloe’s mouth curves, something smug flickering across her face, before vanishing—a low moan slipping out as Max’s tongue moves against her slickness.
Max groans into her, the sound muffled, and lets herself get lost in it for a second, in the warmth of her, the way Chloe moves under her.
Chloe tastes like smoke and skin and something unmistakably her—something Max knows she’d recognize anywhere. Something she’d spent years missing. Thinking about. Trying not to think about.
Max licks up from Chloe’s entrance to her clit, pressing down hard with her tongue until Chloe’s hips buck in response.
“Oh my God, Chloe—” Max murmurs into her skin.
Chloe’s hand tightens in her hair enough to make Max shiver. Max’s hands slide slightly before settling on Chloe’s thighs, her grip tightening as she steadies herself.
“Fuck— ” Chloe moans, grinding herself against Max’s mouth. “Max, shit— yeah, just like that.”
Max hums against her, eyes closing.
She alternates between sucking gently on Chloe’s clit and flattening her tongue against her, already addicted to the sounds Chloe is making. She can feel Chloe’s wetness all over her chin and her face and still she needs more. She pushes the tip of her tongue against her entrance and Chloe pushes Max’s head deeper into her in response.
Chloe is panting, her hips never stopping their grind against Max’s face, craving even more friction and pressure.
“Max…” Chloe’s voice breaks. “Look at me.”
Max looks up and shudders under Chloe’s stare. The light catches in Chloe’s eyes, making them seem brighter than they are. It feels like Chloe can see right through her, like there's nothing left to hide. Her tongue never stops moving in and out of Chloe as she holds her gaze.
Chloe breaks first, throwing her head back with a moan as she rocks even harder into Max’s mouth. That sound still does something catastrophic to Max's nervous system.
Max returns her attention to Chloe’s clit and gently pushes her middle finger inside her, reveling in the intense heat that immediately encircles it.
“Fuck,” Chloe groans again, throwing her tattooed arm over her eyes as she chases Max’s touch.
Max hesitates, searching her face.
“Tell me if this is okay.”
“Max,” Chloe pants, a little incredulous.
She pulls her arm away from her eyes long enough to look at her properly.
“You know it is.”
Something twists low in Max’s stomach at the certainty in her voice. Chloe still remembers exactly what her hands can do to her.
Max begins to move her finger in and out of Chloe, curling it up instinctively, smiling softly at the way Chloe gasps. She pushes another finger in and the helpless little noise Chloe makes sends heat straight between Max’s legs.
“Yeah— right there—” Chloe says, hips lifting automatically to meet Max's hand.
“Fuck, baby. Don't stop,” she moans.
Max wouldn’t dream of stopping.
“Chloe, you feel—”
She sucks even harder on Chloe’s clit and moves her fingers even faster. She can feel Chloe clenching around her and knows she's close.
One of Chloe’s hands grips Max’s hair again, yanking hard.
“Max—fuck, I’m—” Chloe starts, the words breaking apart as she cuts herself off with a sharp cry, her grip tightening as it hits. Max barely has time to react before Chloe’s whole body tenses.
For a second, Max can't breathe as Chloe’s thighs clamp around her head, but she doesn't pull away. She stays right there, riding out the moment with her, even as Chloe shakes under her hands.
Eventually, Chloe’s grip loosens and her thighs fall back open. Max removes her fingers slowly and gently. She feels Chloe shudder as she falls back against the mattress, chest rising and falling hard. Max slowly becomes aware of the space around them again—the bed, the light, the air.
She looks up. Chloe's staring at her completely wrecked, hair damp, mouth still parted.
“Max…” Chloe pants. “That was—holy shit.”
Max smiles, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. Chloe stares at her for a second, still catching up.
Heat rushes up Max’s neck as she holds Chloe’s gaze, long enough that it starts to feel like too much and then, she brings her fingers up to her mouth and sucks them clean. She moans at Chloe’s taste.
It's instinctive. Unplanned.
Chloe's breath catches and Max’s brain catches up a second too late, her face burning.
Chloe is still watching her, eyes half-lidded, completely focused.
“Max…”
“Don’t—” Max starts, half a protest, half a warning, already embarrassed.
Chloe just smiles, shaking her head.
“Freak,” she mutters, leaning back against the headboard, pulling Max up with her.
Max goes easily, settling against her, nuzzling into her neck.
“Was that okay?” she asks, softer now.
Chloe laughs, short and disbelieving.
“Max,” she says, still a little out of breath. “You really need me to answer that?”
Max’s fingers brush over her inner thigh again, almost without thinking—
Chloe jolts, a sharp inhale catching before she huffs a breathy laugh.
“Okay—yeah. Still sensitive,” she mutters. “Give me a second. Jeez.”
Max lets out a soft laugh. “Sorry,” she murmurs, not sounding particularly sorry at all.
Chloe’s hand tightens slightly at Max’s back, like she doesn't want to let go.
“…I missed that,” she adds after a moment, quieter.
Then, after a second, a grin tugs back in.
“You’re stupidly good at that,” she murmurs. “Seriously. God, teenage you would be losing her mind right now.”
Max flushes, smiling as she shoves lightly at Chloe’s shoulder.
“I think teenage me would be more shocked she got to do…any of this with you,” she says quietly.
Chloe’s hand comes up, brushing along Max’s cheek again, slower this time. Her expression softens.
“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs. “It’s actually kind of ridiculous.”
Max nuzzles into the touch.
“Says you,” she says, quieter. She tilts down and kisses Chloe softly.
Chloe answers eagerly, a little rougher this time, pulling Max in like she doesn't want even an inch of space between them. Her arms wrap tight around her, mouth opening against Max’s, a low, involuntary moan slipping out as she tastes herself on her tongue. It makes Max’s stomach flip all over again.
“Now let’s see what I did to you,” Chloe murmurs against her ear.
Max shivers.
Chloe’s mouth moves back to her neck, slower this time, while her left hand trails down Max’s side slowly until it reaches the waistband of her underwear.
Max freezes.
She feels suddenly, acutely aware of her body again—of how much, how obvious—
Chloe’s fingers brush over the fabric and she lets out a quiet, incredulous sound.
“Shit, Max,” she mutters, almost under her breath. “All that just from—”
Max makes a small, mortified noise and buries her face against Chloe’s shoulder.
“Chloe,” she whines.
Max can almost feel Chloe grinning.
Chloe's hand presses a little firmer, testing, and Max’s hips lift on instinct.
“Yeah,” Chloe murmurs, lower now. “Thought so.”
Max exhales shakily, her fingers tightening where they’re curled into Chloe’s arm.
Chloe shifts behind her, guiding her until Max is settled between her legs, back against her chest.
It feels dangerously good.
Chloe’s hands pull at the fabric of Max’s underwear, and she lifts her hips as Chloe slides them off slow, but certain. Her mouth finds Max’s neck again, much less careful now, teeth grazing hard enough to make Max gasp.
Somewhere, distantly, Max knows she should care about what Chloe is doing to her neck.
She doesn't.
“Please,” she gasps. “Chloe—”
Max can feel Chloe’s fingers lingering at her entrance, barely there.
“Please—” she whines again, trying to move against her, but Chloe doesn't give in.
“Uh-uh,” Chloe murmurs against her ear.
Max groans, her head falling back against Chloe’s shoulder.
“You’re mean to me,” she mutters. Chloe smirks as her other hand comes up, settling lightly at Max’s throat, tipping her head back to meet her mouth.
The kiss is deep and almost overwhelming.
Max melts into it for half a second and then gasps as Chloe finally pushes two fingers inside.
A moan slips out of her before she can stop it, low and unsteady.
Fuck. Chloe’s fingers.
Chloe knows her—knows exactly what she likes, exactly what unravels her.
Max has thought about her touch more times than she’ll ever admit. Late nights, alone, trying not to—
“Chloe—”
Max gasps as Chloe starts to curl her fingers up expertly, her body already anticipating the movement. Chloe adjusts her palm to put pressure on Max’s clit and then finds a rhythm quickly, like she doesn't even have to think about it.
Max's body reacts instantly, hips lifting again without her telling them to, reaching for the movement before she can even process it. Her grip slips slightly in the sheets before tightening again.
"I love when you're like this," Chloe purrs against her neck. Max whimpers.
The heat of Chloe behind her is intoxicating. The way her name keeps hovering at the edge of her lips without fully forming.
“More,” Max manages, barely.
Chloe doesn't hesitate and pushes a third finger inside.
Max breaks into a loud, startled moan, her hands fisting in the sheets again as the sensation shifts deeper, fuller, making her whole body tense for a second before melting right back into it.
“Fuck—” she gasps.
“Hey,” Chloe murmurs, lower now, her mouth brushing Max’s neck. “Stay with me.”
Max nods, barely managing it, even though she isn't sure Chloe can see it.
“I’m—” she tries, voice catching again. “Don’t—don’t stop.”
Chloe shifts her fingers slightly, and Max gasps.
“Still like it like that?” Chloe murmurs against her neck.
Max nods helplessly.
“Yeah,” Chloe says, a grin in her voice. “There you go.”
Max groans, her grip tightening as everything in her starts to spiral tighter, faster.
“You’re so good for me, Max,” Chloe says, low and teasing.
Max turns her head against Chloe's shoulder to lightly bite at her skin.
Chloe’s hand slips into her hair and tugs her head back just enough to make Max gasp.
“Turn around,” Chloe whispers against Max’s ear as she withdraws her fingers.
Max lets out a small, frustrated whimper at the sudden loss of fullness inside her before doing as she's told, turning to face her again. The bed shifts as they move, the sheets dragging with them.
Chloe looks ravenous—breath uneven, eyes fixed on her in a way that makes Max’s head spin.
Max moves, settling herself back on her knees against Chloe’s fingers and palm, chasing the feeling she’s already started to miss.
Her hands find Chloe’s arms for balance, gripping tighter than she means to as she sinks onto Chloe’s fingers.
“That’s it,” Chloe murmurs. “Yeah…just like that.”
Max moans, her head tipping back as the sensation hits again. It's sharp and full and exactly what she needed.
“Chloe…” she whispers, the word falling apart halfway through. “Feels— fuck—”
Chloe shakes her head, a small, satisfied smile at her mouth, shifting her fingers to curl them up into Max while her thumb begins to rub hard, quick circles against her clit.
“Good,” she says simply.
Max makes another sound, her grip tightening as she continues to grind on Chloe’s fingers, lips parting, sweat pooling at her temple.
“H-harder,” she breathes out, looking at Chloe with a pleading look in her eyes. Chloe doesn't hesitate. Without removing her fingers, she shifts them easily, guiding Max down until she's leaning over her, close enough that Max can feel every movement.
Chloe’s pace turns relentless, her thumb still working hard against Max’s clit until Max cries out and digs her nails into Chloe’s back, rocking against her fingers.
The room starts to blur at the edges.
Chloe moves in, closing the space between them completely, pressing their bodies together and catching Max’s mouth in a searing kiss.
“You can do it, Max,” she murmurs against her lips.
Max nods weakly.
“God—” she tries, but it comes out broken.
“Yeah,” Chloe says, low. “I’ve got you.”
Max’s arms and legs wrap around her, pulling her closer, holding on hard.
“Chloe—” she cries out, the word falling apart as the feeling finally breaks through her completely. Her fingers dig even harder into Chloe’s back. Chloe’s fingers never slow.
Max’s mind goes blank. For a second, she can't think or breathe or do anything but hold on as it hits her all at once. She clings to Chloe through it, her body shaking, her grip tightening. She feels herself gush around Chloe’s fingers, the intensity of it almost embarrassing. Max tightens her legs around Chloe’s waist and keeps rocking into her touch.
She can't tell what sound she's making anymore.
Chloe stays with her until the intensity finally starts to ebb.
Slowly, carefully, she withdraws her fingers.
Max slumps back, her body going loose, her eyes slipping closed. Her legs are shaking uncontrollably.
For a second, she can't move. She's only focused on Chloe. Still here.
Chloe shifts down, pressing soft kisses to Max's cheek, then her nose, her forehead, brushing her hair back with careful fingers. Her hair falls forward, brushing Max’s cheek as she moves. It's all so gentle it almost hurts.
Max opens her eyes.
Chloe is looking down at her, smiling softly, a little ruined, a little disbelieving.
And Max still can't fully process it.
Chloe Elizabeth Price. Here. Looking at her like she’s loved her the whole time.
She doesn't even realize she's crying until Chloe’s thumb brushes her eye, catching the tears.
“Hey,” Chloe murmurs, quieter now. “You’re okay.”
Her hand cups Max’s face.
“I’m here,” she adds. “You’re here.”
She sighs softly.
“We’re okay.”
Max whimpers and folds into her chest, arms wrapping tight around Chloe’s middle as the sobs hit before she can stop them, sharp and uncontrollable.
Everything she’s been holding back.
Chloe holds her, pulling her in close, one hand at the back of her head, the other rubbing slow circles against her back.
“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Max.”
Max shakes against her, trying and failing to get it under control.
“I’m sor—” she starts.
Chloe makes a soft shushing sound and holds her tighter.
“No,” she says gently. “Don’t do that.”
Her hand moves up into Max’s hair.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
Max buries her face deeper against her, breathing her in, gripping her as if she might disappear if she didn’t.
Chloe stays right there, holding her. She doesn't rush her.
After a while—minutes, maybe longer—Max’s breathing starts to even out, the sobs fading into smaller, shaky inhales. She pulls back. Chloe is still there. Still smiling at her.
Chloe’s smile is one of Max’s favorite things in the world.
Max opens her mouth. Closes it again. There's no way to fit it into words.
Chloe brushes her thumb under her eye again, catching the last of her tears.
“I love you, Max,” she says softly. “I’m really glad I’m here with you.”
Max’s breath catches. It's been a long time—too long—since she’s heard Chloe say that.
It sounds the same as all the times she'd said it before. It also doesn't. God, she’d missed hearing that.
“I love you too,” she manages, voice uneven. “So much it—”
She cuts herself off, shaking her head slightly. She wraps Chloe in another tight hug, holding on like she doesn't want to risk letting go. Chloe holds her just as tightly.
Eventually, Chloe pulls back.
“I’m gonna grab you some water, okay?” she says, softer now.
Max nods, sniffing, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She watches Chloe stand and head down the stairs, completely unbothered by the fact that she's naked. The room feels bigger without her.
Max looks around. The bed is… a mess. Sheets tangled, pushed halfway off. Clothes and pillows scattered across the floor. Everything feels warm and very damp and completely wrecked.
She lets out a quiet, almost disbelieving scoff.
Yeah. That tracks.
Chloe comes back a minute later with a glass of water and a handful of paper towels, climbing back up like nothing happened. She sits down beside Max and hands her the glass. Max takes a long drink. Chloe watches her, her hand settling absently on Max’s leg, thumb tracing slow, quiet circles. Max hands the glass back without saying anything, and Chloe passes her the paper towels. Max blows her nose, still a little shaky. Chloe finishes the rest of the water and sets the glass down on the nightstand.
Max exhales slowly, then lets out a quiet laugh.
“Sorry I cried."
Chloe shakes her head, a fond smile playing at her lips.
“You don’t have to apologize for that,” she says. “That was… a lot.”
Max nods slowly.
“Was it too much?” Chloe adds, a little more carefully.
Max shakes her head immediately.
“No,” she says quickly, reaching out, her hands sliding up Chloe’s arms. “No, it was—”
She shakes her head again.
“It was amazing, Chloe,” she finishes, softer. “It was just… everything that’s happened.”
Max feels it catch in her throat.
“You. The fire. Us.”
Chloe nods slowly.
She takes Max’s hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a small kiss there.
“Us,” she echoes.
Max sinks into the contact, her shoulders easing slightly.
Chloe’s fingers lace with hers. She goes quiet for a second.
“Look, Max…”
Her eyes flick away, then back again. Max can tell she's nervous.
“I want to be with you,” Chloe says, a little more steady. “Like…for real. Not just—this.” She gestures between them, exhaling.
“That’s all I want, too,” Max says softly.
Chloe hesitates, just for a second.
“You’re it for me, Max. Always have been.”
Max goes still. That—she hadn’t expected. Not like that. For a second, she doesn't know what to do with it.
Then she squeezes Chloe’s hand.
“Chloe…” she murmurs, like it's all she has.
Chloe smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
“I just…” She exhales. “I can’t stay here. You know that.”
Max nods.
“I’ve gotta go back to the band,” Chloe goes on, running a hand through her hair. “And I don’t—” she huffs quietly. “I don’t know how to do that and not…lose you again. I can’t lose you again,” she says. “I can’t.”
She doesn't quite look at Max when she says it.
Max’s grip tightens slightly where their hands are still linked. For a second, she doesn't say anything.
“Hey,” she says finally, softer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She means it.
For a second, neither of them says anything.
Max's thumb finds her ring again, twisting it slowly.
“I mean—” she hesitates. “I just—I don’t want to… mess up your life. Or, like, show up and make things weird, or—worse weird, I guess—”
She makes a small, frustrated groan.
Fuck, this is harder than it should be.
“Please,” Chloe says gently. “Just say it.”
Max glances up at her, then away again.
“…What if I came with you?”
Chloe blinks.
Max rushes to fill the silence.
“Not like—forever,” she says quickly. “I mean—not that I wouldn’t—just, like, for a while. You might need a photographer, right? For the band. I could—help. With that. Specifically.”
She winces.
“Only if you want,” she adds, smaller now. “I mean, I know it’s not really my thing and I’d probably be—”
Chloe kisses her hard. Max startles against her mouth, a little relieved.
When Chloe leans back, she's grinning, disbelieving.
“You’re serious?” she asks. “You’d actually come with me?”
Max feels her face heat.
“Yeah. I would.”
“Max,” Chloe says, laughter in her voice. “There is literally nothing I want more than that.”
Max lets out a slow breath. She smiles.
“Good.”
For a second, everything feels…easy. The room feels quieter, like it finally settled around them.
Chloe’s expression shifts slightly.
“Hey,” she says, more serious now. “Don’t…do something huge like that just because of me, okay?”
Max frowns slightly.
“I mean it,” Chloe goes on. “You’ve got your own thing here. Your own life. I don’t want you giving that up and then—”
“Chloe,” Max cuts in, more firmly than she meant to.
Chloe blinks. Max softens, but doesn't back down.
“I’m not giving anything up,” she says. “I’m choosing something.”
Chloe goes quiet.
“I’m choosing you, Chloe,” Max adds, steadier now. “I already did.”
Chloe’s eyes flicker.
“I’m still choosing you.”
Chloe goes very still. She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, swallowing hard.
When she looks back at Max, her expression is more fragile than Max has seen it all morning.
Chloe's hand comes up, brushing a piece of hair back from Max’s face, slightly unsteady.
“I just—” Chloe shakes her head, a small, frustrated motion. Her voice catches a little. “I don’t want to screw this up.”
Max stills.
“You won’t,” she says, firmer now.
Chloe studies her as if she's trying to decide if she can believe it.
Max doesn't look away. She doesn't let herself.
After a second, something in Chloe eases.
“Okay,” she says with a little smile.
“I can’t wait for you to meet the band,” she says, a hint of her usual energy creeping back in. “They’re gonna love you.”
Max smiles softly.
“I’m excited, too,” she says.
“Although,” Chloe says, a little more cautiously now, “it might be kind of weird introducing you as my ex-girlfriend. You know, long-term, whole-life kind of ex.”
Max frowns slightly.
“We could just say we’re friends?” she offers, a little too quickly.
The words feel wrong the second they leave her mouth.
Chloe makes a face. “Ew. No.”
“Pretty sure no one’s gonna buy that,” she adds. “We’re really bad at just being friends, if you hadn’t noticed.”
A small smile tugs at her mouth.
Max lets out a small, startled laugh—more reflex than anything.
Chloe squeezes her hand, her expression softening.
“I was actually thinking…” she starts, glancing down at their hands before looking back up. “I’d really like to call you my girlfriend again. If that’s—” she huffs a small sound. “If you want that too.”
For a second, Max just stares at her.
“You want me to be your girlfriend again?” she finally asks, a little breathless.
“Max. I didn’t just have sex with you and tell you I love you to—” she stops, a quick, disbelieving breath slipping out. “Yeah. I do.”
Max yanks Chloe down into another kiss, quick and messy.
“I like the sound of that,” she murmurs against Chloe’s mouth.
“Yeah?” Chloe grins. “Because I really like the sound of my girlfriend coming on tour with me.”
Max laughs again, softer this time.
“Careful,” she says. “You’re gonna make it sound romantic.”
Chloe bumps her shoulder. “It is romantic, dumbass.”
Max smiles, then hesitates.
“…My girlfriend better not disappear on me again,” she adds, quieter now. “No shitty notes. No motel rooms.”
Chloe’s expression shifts.
"Max,” she says, softer. “I’m not doing that again.”
Max holds her gaze for a second—searching, just a little.
“I mean, I can’t promise no motel rooms,” Chloe adds, a crooked smile tugging at her mouth. “Kinda comes with the whole ‘band on tour’ thing.”
Max smiles gently.
Chloe’s expression softens again, more serious underneath it.
“But I’m not leaving you in one,” she says. “Not like that.”
Max feels her body loosen. Then she nods.
“Okay.”
That's enough. For now.
Chloe leans in, pressing a gentler kiss to her lips this time. Max kisses her back just as softly, her hand coming up to Chloe’s cheek.
After a moment, they pull away, but don't go far—foreheads almost touching, knees brushing.
For a second, Max can't look anywhere else. Here's Chloe—steady, right in front of her, real in a way that still feels a little unbelievable. That same face, after all this time. Older, sharper at the edges—but still Chloe. Still the girl she’d grown up with. Still the person Max has never stopped loving.
Still hers.
Chloe’s eyes soften, like she's seeing the same thing. Max’s breath stills as her thumb traces along Chloe’s cheekbone.
Max’s phone starts buzzing on the nightstand, loud and insistent. They both groan. Max turns just enough to squint at it, still half-buried in Chloe’s shoulder.
“…Please tell me that’s not the time,” she mutters.
Chloe grunts. “Ignore it.”
Max reaches blindly, fumbling for her phone and finally grabbing it. She blinks at the screen.
“Oh my god. It’s almost noon.”
Chloe gives a low whistle. “Damn. We’re productive.”
Max shakes her head fondly, dropping the phone back onto the nightstand.
“Shit,” she says, dragging a hand over her face. “We should probably get up. We have to—” she gestures vaguely. “Be people.”
Chloe makes a deeply unimpressed noise.
Max moves to stand up, but Chloe’s arm tightens around her middle, tugging her right back down.
“Chloe,” Max laughs, wriggling slightly as Chloe presses a quick, lazy kiss along her shoulder. “We can’t just stay here forever.”
Chloe hums, considering it like it's a legitimate option.
“I mean,” she says, voice low and a little smug, “you’ve bent time for less.”
Max snorts. “Yeah, and that always goes great.”
They both grin.
Max pushes herself up again, this time managing to sit, immediately aware of the state of everything—the sheets, her legs, the smell in the air, Chloe still very much naked beside her.
“…Okay, yeah,” she says, scrunching her nose. “We definitely need to shower.”
Chloe leans back on her hands, grinning. “Bold of you to assume we’d actually just shower.”
Max rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.
“You literally destroyed my bed,” she shoots back.
Chloe laughs, pushing herself up and grabbing Max’s hands to pull her to her feet.
“C’mon,” she says, tugging her closer. “Let your girlfriend make you breakfast.”
“Only if my girlfriend makes me her mom’s pancakes,” Max says.
Chloe grins. “Wow. Straight to the good stuff, huh?”
“Obviously.”
Chloe leans in and kisses her cheek.
“You got it, hippie.”
Max smiles, squeezing her hand.
Neither of them wants to let go.