rivers_bend

It's finally here, part three of Caught, the Tiger Trap AU in which Julian and Max come together much earlier in the tale. The story starts here. Caught follows on from tigertrapped's smoking Break

This chapter is adult rated for sex and is ~3666 words.

Thank you to Max's fans without whose enthusiasm I might have let the writer's block get me, and especially to tigertrapped who kept me going in all ways and ensured the commas were in the right places.


It was twenty past one in the morning when Julian got out of a black cab to find Max Lawrence sitting on his front stairs. Max didn’t move as Julian paid the driver, opened the door and stepped out, he just sat sprawled, elbows behind him, legs crossed at the ankle as though he were on a rug in the park, or on a bed somewhere… Julian cut that thought off, he had a new policy, and thinking of Max on a bed was definitely not allowed. Thinking of Max on his steps waiting wasn't allowed either, but even when the cool night air hit his face Max was still there, so he figured he didn’t have much choice.

'Did you have a good night?' Max asked, sitting up only when Julian started to climb the steps, get out his key.

'The DJ was a little obsessed with Madonna, actually. You?' Casual, as though Max was often here, as though it hadn't been nearly three weeks since Max told him to fuck off.

'You never came back.' The transition from sitting to standing was made so smoothly that Julian hardly saw Max move.

'No,' Julian said, putting the key in the lock. When he'd opened the door, he gestured Max inside. The least he could do was make the man a hot drink after he'd been sitting on stone steps for god knew how long.

'Sorry about the phone call. I shouldn't have taken it out on you.'

'That's ok,' Julian said reflexively. Max stood under the hall light and Julian looked away from the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks. Max's eyes, his eyelashes and the way his jaw curved under his ear, they were all on the list. The new policy was much easier to follow when Max wasn't standing in front of him looking so damned sexy.

'How can I make it up to you?'

There was something not right about this Max. All easygoing charm, apologies, nothing hard-edged about him. 'Would you like a cup of tea? Or some coffee?' Julian wanted to get out of the close confines of the hall and into the kitchen where there was a table to put between them. And that picture of pushing Max down onto the old oak surface, of leaning in, kissing him, that could go right now, it wasn't helping anything.

'Tea, coffee, whatever you're making.'

Julian didn't know which he wanted. Didn't know what he wanted. He'd given up on Max, deciding he didn't need the drama, but that was when he'd been two weeks without seeing him. Now he was here, in those jeans, and how did anyone look so sexy in a pair of faded jeans, and he still didn't need the drama but…

Coffee gave Julian more time, so he got out the cafetiere and gestured for Max to sit down. The first scoop went fine but the second scattered all over the counter when Max came up behind him and slid his hands around Julian's hips.

'Sorry,' Max said against his ear.

Julian decided. He didn’t want tea or coffee. Ignoring the spilled grounds, he turned in the space between the denim clad hips and the counter and kissed those lips that he wasn’t going to think about, before Max could say anything else.

Max's face was still cool from the air outside, but his mouth was slow heat, plucking at Julian's lips, welcoming his tongue, taking his time, when Julian wanted Max's hands on him hardmorenow.

'Fuck coffee,' Julian said, and Max laughed.

'I think I promised you a bed?'

'I have one.'

Max cupped Julian's jaw and kissed him again before stepping back to let Julian lead the way.

Just yesterday Julian had been missing his father's company, but now, as he walked past his father's room to his own, he was grateful that he was gone for three months. As understanding as his father was, Julian didn't make a habit of sneaking men into his room in the middle of the night, and he didn't think he could wait long enough to get back to Max's house.

Eyes flicking from the drapes pulled across the windows, to the shut door, to the desk in the corner, to the bed, Max surveyed the room before looking at Julian and smiling. He fingered the hem of Julian's shirt. 'Nice,' he said. 'Take it off.'

Julian lifted his arms and Max pulled his shirt over his head. Max dropped it on the desk chair. He skimmed his hands over Julian's ribs, round to his back, and Julian felt his jaw go slack, his breathing quicken just at that contact and the look in Max's eyes. When he'd felt Julian's arse through his jeans, he pulled away and tugged his own t-shirt off.

As gorgeous as he was dressed, Max was even more amazing with his shirt off, and Julian had a moment's regret that they'd been in too much of a hurry last time and he'd not seen this view. He echoed Max's movements, running his palms over the smooth skin, feeling with his fingertips the hollows Max's muscles made at either side of his spine, the curve of his ribs, tracing his thumbs along the hairs that led down to the buttons on his jeans. The sensations made him stiffen behind his own fly.

They stood in the middle of the room, mirror images, as Max lifted his hands back to Julian's chest, thumbing Julian's nipples then running his palms over the points, fanning his fingers into the gap at the front of Julian's jeans, teasing them down over Julian's hipbones. Julian lifted his eyes from Max's torso to his face and saw Max watching his responses. When their eyes met, Max said, 'Do you still want me to fuck you?'

'God, yes.' Julian kissed him and moved his hands to the buttons on Max's jeans. Pushing at each other's clothes, they stumbled sideways to the bed, ending up side by side, kicking their jeans down and off.

Wanting to look again, Julian propped himself up on his elbow and pushed Max's shoulder until he lay on his back. Ignoring Max's look of vague amusement, he traced his fingers down his ribs, over his hips, up his thighs and then along the base of his cock. When he let his tongue follow the path of his fingers, Max's breathing didn't sound amused any more. Julian licked again, along the crease of Max's groin, over the loose skin of his balls and up the length of him. Stomach muscles quivered under Julian's nose and he rubbed his cheek against them, feeling as well as hearing Max's moan.

Rough hands pulled him up and rolled him over so that Max was on top of him, kissing him, palm cupping his erection, rubbing out over his hip, pulling him closer, cock hot against his thigh. There was friction, sweat, heat, tangling legs and groping hands, Max's peppery taste lingering on Julian's tongue and an aching want that made him breathless. Max said, 'Have you got any lube?'

'Top drawer.' Julian flung his hand out towards his bedside table but was at the wrong angle, so Max reached up and got it.

Julian's hand was still palm up on the bed, and Max squirted cold lube into it, making him jump. Putting a hand on Julian's, coating their fingers and palms, Max slicked them both. He knelt between Julian's thighs, pulling Julian's hand up to his cock. As Julian wet his length, Max pushed slippery fingers along the crack of his arse, teasing him until Julian was panting and begging, 'Please, in me, please.'

The stretch he remembered, as Max's finger breached him, but it slid in with no burning friction. He rocked against it, feeling the heat of Max in his palm, wanting that heat inside him, but willing to wait, knowing it would be better if they went slower. 'More,' he said, when Max's finger wasn't enough, and Max pulled out, used his other hand to move Julian's fist to his own cock, and then pushed two fingers into him.

Julian jerked slowly, letting the sensation add to the feeling of being stretched rather than overwhelming it, eyes flicking from Max's face to his cock, hard and slick against his stomach. 'More?' Max asked, and then pushed three fingers in when Julian nodded.

He wanted Max's cock, Max's weight on top of him. 'Now, fuck me, please,' Julian gasped.

'Turn over.' Max slid his fingers out and shifted so Julian could do so. Between his thighs again, Max kissed his spine, his shoulder, the back of his neck, and then Julian felt the push of Max against him, hotter than Max's fingers, and smoother. He lifted his hips and Max slid deeper, stripping the air from Julian's lungs, making his fingers clutch at the sheets.

'Okay?' Max asked, breath hot against his neck.

'Yes, more, yes,' the feeling more intense than the first time, less pain, more pleasure, though he found he missed the mirror, missed seeing Max's face over his shoulder. Max rested for a moment with his hips tight to Julian's arse and then slowly slid back, pushing forward again when Julian gasped.

He rocked his hips, cock against the sheets, Max inside him, filling him, and he wanted Max to move. More friction, more pressure, more Max. 'Harder, please… Max,' and Max started fucking him and ohgod ohyes it was amazing.

He could feel Max panting against his neck, the slip of sweat between them, the brush of Max's fingers on his arm, another brush at his hip. 'Lift,' Max said, his fingers more insistent, and he stopped thrusting while Julian pulled his knees up underneath him. Max tugged at his wrist until Julian brought his hand down to touch himself and then he began to move again, speeding up until everything was friction and being filled and he was coming in his fist, Max gasping curses behind him.

--

Julian had fallen asleep with his fingers curled around Max's forearm and a leg across Max's shin. Max had planned to stay, talk to Julian over breakfast, but now he felt trapped, felt the need to get out before Julian woke up, asked him what the fuck he was still doing here. Needing to move, to give in, just for a minute, to the voice in his head telling him to get out, Max pulled his leg out from under Julian's sleeping weight. When he tried to free his arm, Julian held tighter, brushed his lips against Max's shoulder, murmured something that might have been a protest.

'I'll be back,' Max whispered, lifting Julian's hand from his arm.

Julian rolled over and pushed his back into the space Max left behind.

Max considered getting dressed but settled for pulling on his jeans. They were in the house alone, the Admiral gone, according to Max's information, for another seven weeks, Julian was asleep, and the house was warm. Across the landing to the bathroom where the tiles were cool on his feet, and suddenly he wanted to be clean. Afraid of waking Julian with the sound of the shower, Max filled the sink with warm water, pulled a face-cloth off a shelf, and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck. He avoided his eyes in the mirror, scrubbed at his skin til it was pink, pushing his jeans down and washing everywhere, filling the sink again with hot water when it cooled. It felt like basic training, only the water was warm and the cloth was soft, and he hadn't spent half the night lying face down in the mud. They hadn't trained him for this, and Julian was not another Gideon, Adam was right about that.

He'd waited a week for Julian to come back and then he'd rung Malcolm, got Julian's address, phone number, and details of the Admiral's schedule. An hour later he had Adam on the phone: 'You should have rung me direct, kid,' which made him wonder if Harry had sent Adam after all.

'I should have told him to keep his mouth shut,' Max replied.

'He didn’t talk, but he always gets that look on his face when he's speaking to you, can't miss it. Then I saw Tremont's name on his computer.'

Adam must have got the point when he'd last come round however, because he didn't try to tell Max what to do next.

Knowing his position would be stronger if Julian came to him, Max waited another week before deciding that he'd not played his cards right in telling Julian to leave. He watched Julian go to work, come home in the evenings, one night go out for dinner with a woman his father's age, and he'd waited for an opportunity to present itself. Which somehow ended up with him standing with his jeans around his ankles at Julian's sink at three in the morning with the feel of Julian's hipbones under his fingertips no matter how much he washed.

Eventually he went back to the bedroom, edged Julian over, and tried to sleep.

Sleep must have come, because he woke up to Julian standing next to the bed, showered, dressed and bearing a cup of coffee.

'I never made you that coffee last night,' he said. 'Are you a breakfast person? I was going to make eggs, if you want some.'

'I'll start with this.' Max sat up, aware of Julian watching, not quite impassively, eyes on the edge of the sheet as it slid down to his waist, but without any sign that he either expected Max to leave or to stay. Max took the mug of coffee.

'I'll be down in the kitchen. There's towels in the bathroom if you want.' Julian glanced again at the sheet's edge and left Max alone.

When he went down, the kitchen smelled of toast and Max realised that he was hungry. There was a half full coffee pot on the counter. 'Good coffee.' Max held up his mug. 'May I?'

'Help yourself. Do you want something to eat?' Julian pushed his empty plate away.

'Toast smells good.'

Julian gestured at an empty seat and stood. Max's phone was uncomfortable against his hip and he put it on the table before sitting down. Julian's gaze snagged on it and his smile faltered. 'If it rings, I won't answer it,' Max said.

'It's not that, well, yes, please don't if we'd have a repeat of the other week- I'm not sure how to ask, this may sound strange, but is Sir Charles Lawrence your uncle?'

So much for risking making Julian suspicious bringing up his work history again. 'Why do you - yes - but why do you ask?'

'The way you answered your phone. You sounded just like him. I thought so at the time, but then I was on my way out the door.' Julian turned his back and started slicing bread for toast.

Damn Adam and his interfering. This could have all been sorted out three weeks ago. Though the irony wasn't lost on him; if his phone hadn't rung Julian wouldn't have noticed the similarities. 'When have you heard him answer the phone?'

'The company I worked for, before I went to GLS, was MacIntyre.'

'So it was my uncle and Mark Reyden that made your skin crawl?'

'I'm sorry, I didn't-'

'Oh, don't apologise, I'd wonder about you if they didn't.'

Julian said, 'They used to talk about you, about the trust in your father's will. I assumed you were younger. It's unusual for a trust to last beyond your 21st birthday, isn't it?'

'You're the lawyer.' Julian turned away, dealing with the toast, but Max saw from the set of his shoulders that he'd taken offence at Max's words. 'Hey,' Max said. 'That came out wrong. I'm mad at him, not you.'

'Shall we change the subject?' Julian brought over a plate of toast and the butter. 'Do you want jam or marmalade?'

Max took Julian's wrist and pulled him close enough to touch. The edge of his shirt was warm where he'd been standing near the grill, and Max slid his fingers underneath to the skin which was warmer still. When Julian shivered at the brush of his fingers, Max lifted his shirt and kissed his stomach. 'Actually, I wouldn't mind getting your opinion on him.' He looked up at Julian and caught his quick breath as Max's fingers pushed into his waistband. 'And marmalade, if you have any, thank you.'

'There's marmalade.' But Julian made no move to go and get it. Instead, he pressed closer to Max's side and traced his fingers through Max's hair.

'After last night I could do with the sugar.' Max smiled and released his grip on Julian's waist. While he was getting Max marmalade, he got himself another cup of coffee.

'How did you end up working for my uncle?' Max waited until Julian had sat down again.

'It was just one of the jobs I applied for, there were three of us, drafting contracts, all that sort of thing, but Reyden started putting me on things he was working on, asking that I attend the board meetings, taking me to meet clients, take notes.' Julian frowned as though he found something distasteful. 'You've met Reyden, I assume?'

'I've known Reyden for years. He was my father's solicitor as well.' Max wondered if Julian's distaste was personal or professional. Unless Reyden had changed, he suspected it was both.

'He's more wary of you than your uncle is. Warned Sir Charles not to push you too hard, on more than one occasion.' Julian sipped his coffee. 'Actually the way he talked about you was another reason I thought you were still a teenager. He said you thought too much of yourself for someone your age… I don't remember everything he said, I just remember thinking that you must be in school.'

'The last time I saw him, I was a teenager. He and I didn't exactly see eye to eye.' Max remembered Reyden's eye, rolling under threat from the ruined pen nib as Max held him down on the table, making it clear what would happen if Reyden touched him again.

'He's-' Julian eyed Max's empty plate. 'Do you want more toast?'

'No, that was fine. He's what?'

'He's the reason I left and got the GLS job. I was tired of it anyway, I was basically a glorified secretary, and I'm not convinced everything he and your uncle were doing was in the best interests of the company, but one night when we were in Dublin he said if I wanted to keep my job I'd have to go with him into his hotel room. I told him to fuck off. His looking and the excuses to brush against me were tiresome, but no one needs a job that badly.'

Max pictured Julian, eyes snapping with indignation, earnest school-boy looks transformed, standing in a hotel corridor telling Mark Reyden to fuck off. 'And he did? Fuck off, I mean.'

'I told him he could write me a glowing letter of recommendation or I'd explain to Sir Charles why I was leaving. He never struck me as desperately tolerant of Reyden's tastes.'

'I doubt it.'

'Why does your uncle hate you so much?'

'He's never been tolerant of my tastes either. In anything. He thought my father spoiled me, that I had too much freedom, and when everything-' Max wasn't sure what Julian's father or Reyden had told him about Max's history, if the manufactured drug addiction and the subsequent nose-dive his life had taken were part of the tale or not. 'I got into some trouble when I was seventeen, and that just proved it for him. That my father had done a bad job of raising me and I wasn't to be trusted.'

'Were he and your father close?'

'No. I think he hated my father as well. Though he always made a show of getting along with him. My father was younger, but I got the feeling things came more easily to him. Despite his own successes, I think he always resented the success my father had.'

Max wasn't sure how this had turned into a situation where Julian asked the questions and he answered. 'You said that you thought he and Reyden were doing things against the interests of the company?'

'It seemed like deals were being made alongside the official business. I never saw anything concrete, it was more an impression.'

So, did two plus two equal four? Or was it six? Adam wasn't going to be satisfied with an impression, but he might have more information than he'd passed on to Max. Between them they might have something, even if Julian couldn’t provide details.

'Not just Reyden, my uncle was making these side deals?'

They sat across from each other and Julian told Max about the phone calls, meetings, and missing paperwork that had made him wonder exactly what was going on at MacIntyre. As they talked, they finished the pot of coffee, Julian made more toast, and Max enjoyed watching Julian's fingers play with his mug, the curve of his back as he bent over the grill, his smile as the subject changed to more pleasant topics.

It was nearly one o'clock when Max looked at his watch and considered asking Julian if he wanted to go somewhere and get lunch, before he remembered that he was here for information, and he'd got that already. 'I've got to get going,' he said instead. But he did give Julian his phone number, and added, 'You can come round sometime, I'm sorry again about the phone call.'

Now that Julian had started thinking about it, there was always the chance he'd remember something else. Max figured he'd better be in a position to hear it.

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