Hoodie hadn’t realized that sex like the kind he and Max had existed.
Not like, gay sex. He knew that gay sex existed. He’d even tried it before Max, back in UPenn, but it was awkward, not even charmingly so, and lasted about thirty seconds.
Hoodie just hadn’t realized that the kind of sex he had with Max could happen. He hadn’t realized that sex could be so fun: full of laughter and high-fives and blowing raspberries into the other person’s skin. He hadn’t realized that sex didn’t have to be sexy, exactly. It could just be pure and simple fun.
Hoodie’s had great sex before, of course; he’s had a lot of sex. But sex with Max is so fucking different that Hoodie doesn’t think he could even compare what this is with anything else. It’s not necessarily mind-blowing orgasms (although Max has given him some pretty great ones), it’s the open-mouth kisses and the little smiles and the mindless, affectionate babbling Hoodie does and the way Max starts to giggle when he gets close to coming.
And now, as Hoodie steadies Max’s body as Max pulls himself up and onto Hoodie's waist, he can feel tears welling up in his eyes with the weight of all the emotions he can feel building inside. Max rests his hands on Hoodie’s chest, leaning down to kiss him when he pauses.
"Are you… crying?" he asks, his voice a mixture of concern and incredulity.
"Fuck off," Hoodie mutters, voice all crying-wobbly.
"Oh my god, was that feelings-sex?" Max asks delightedly, post-orgasmic high still in effect. He wriggles excitedly, which is a little awkward considering their positions, but he makes it work. "We had feelings-sex!"
"No, no! This is great! I’ve never had feelings-sex before. At least, I don’t think I have." Max leans in so their foreheads are touching. "You can cry. It's okay."
Hoodie pushes Max’s face away from his, blinking back his tears quickly. "Shut up," he says again.
"Come on," Max says, bouncing a little. Hoodie’s dick twitches halfheartedly, but he’s not sixteen anymore. "We have to talk about our feelings, Steven. It’s key to a healthy relationship."
"Our relationship is plenty healthy," Hoodie grumbles.
"There’s nothing wrong with being healthier," Max insists. He rolls off of Hoodie and rests his chin on Hoodie’s chest as Hoodie tries to subtly sniffle.
"I don’t even know what to say," Hoodie says, and fuck, his voice is going all crying-wobbly again looking into Max’s stupidly earnest eyes.
"Do you want me to cry with you?" Max offers.
"Can you cry on command?" Hoodie says, momentarily distracted.
"Yeah. I am an actor, you know."
"Oh. Well, no, don’t cry," Hoodie says, "'cause if you start crying then I’ll start crying."
"You’re already crying," Max points out.
"Shut up," Hoodie says, moving to roll them over so he’s on top of Max. Max giggles wildly as Hoodie flips him, the sound tugging at Hoodie’s heartstrings.
For fuck’s sake.
"Why do you wanna talk about this so bad?" Hoodie whines when Max starts poking him repeatedly, chanting "Talk. Talk. Talk." under his breath.
"I’m curious! No one’s ever cried after they'd put their dick in my ass before," Max says.
"I think I’m crying because I put my dick in your ass," Hoodie says.
Max’s eyes widen. "That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me," he says earnestly.
This gets Hoodie all riled up, because he wrote, like, an entire album’s worth of songs about Max, and Max has read them and listened to Hoodie’s demos and even cried a bit over the particularly mushy ones. And so, clearing his throat, Hoodie goes for the jugular of romantic things.
"Fuck, I can’t even call this making love," Hoodie says. "This is, like, fusing together or some shit. Like, we’re mixing together and your hands are my hands and my chest is your chest and your teeth are my teeth and we’re the same person right now, we’re the alpha and omega, we’re the beginning and the end, and I think that even if you swallowed me whole right now nothing would change because we are so intertwined, we are yin and yang, we are spiraling into each other, and I am your beginning and you are my ending and I am your ending and you are my beginning and we are each other’s forevers, we are a circle, a fucking never-ending cycle of two earthly beings who have managed to merge and form a single spiritual being, and I wish I had a word other than love to use right now because love can’t capture this, nothing can capture this, because we are so much more than any fucking combination of words."
"…oh," is all Max says, but Hoodie can see everything he isn’t saying in his eyes.
"Yeah," Hoodie says, cupping Max’s cheek.
"Oh," Max says again as he rests his forehead on Hoodie’s, their eyes inches apart. "How… how to I respond to that?"
Hoodie snorts, burying his face in Max’s neck. "You don’t have to."
They remain in that position, Hoodie on top of Max with his face buried in Max’s neck, until Hoodie finally rolls off of Max and spoons up behind him.
"I think," Max says, "that with you, we’ve always had feelings-sex. I cried after the first time we had sex, you know."
"What?" Hoodie says, startled. "No, I didn’t know."
"I suppose you don’t," Max says. "You fell asleep, like, right away."
"Oh," Hoodie says. "I suppose you’re right." He pauses. "But why were you crying?"
"Why do you want to know?"
Hoodie pushes himself up onto his elbow so he can look Max in the eye. "Really?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Really!" Max says, rolling over so he can face Hoodie.
Hoodie sighs, wriggling forward a little so he can rest his forehead against Max’s. "For the same reasons you did, I guess. No one’s ever cried after I put my dick in their ass. And…" He sighs. "It… kind of disturbs me that you were crying after our first time after having sex, and I didn’t even know. Like… what if I’d hurt you or something? I wouldn’t have been able to, like, comfort you or anything." A perturbing thought crosses his mind. "Wait, did I hurt you? Like, physically? Or… emotionally? Were you ready for us to have sex? Was I too overzealous when I was asking you about us having sex? Did I pressure you into doing it? Did I–"
"Shh, shh, baby, no," Max says, placing his fingers on Hoodie’s mouth to shut him up. "You didn’t hurt me. And I was more than ready to have sex with you. Don’t worry about that."
Hoodie will worry about that, but he doesn’t tell Max. Instead, he says, "Then why were you crying?"
"Because, like," Max shrugs, "y’know. Like, I mean, since, uh, seeing that, and also, like, uh. Yeah."
Hoodie stares at him. "What?"
Max blushes. "It’s stupid."
"I told you mine."
"Yours wasn’t stupid."
"Ugh, fine," Max groans. "It was just, like, you’re so gentle, you know that? And, like, your eyes are just like, huge windows into whatever you’re feeling, and you were looking at me with all this love and tenderness and passion and affection and happiness, and you looked like you were so in awe of my body, like it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and… I don’t know. It was too much to process as we were having sex, but I started thinking about it after you fell asleep, and I just… started crying, I guess."
That… just about captures everything Hoodie was feeling their first time. He hadn’t realized that he could be read that easily.
Maybe it’s just Max who can read him like that.
"Fuck," is all Hoodie can really think to say, and he wraps his arms around Max and pulls their bodies together.
"Fuck," Max echoes, and he promptly bursts into giggles.