AN: This is written in collaboration with neonnchrome1123, because we are both in love with Across the Universe and, more specifically, Max and Jude. If you are looking for an angst riddled, accurate depiction of tortured minds and war and blood and death, please look elsewhere. You will not find that here, no sir.

We are fans of fluff. Perhaps too much...?? I am under the impression that there can never be enough fluff.

Later on we'll get into heavier shit as Max gets closer and closer to being shipped off to war, but until then, we are quite content to swim in our pool of rainbows, sunshine and gay boys. Thank you very much. :-)

Disclaimer: Across the Universe and its characters do not belong to us.

Max's POV

"So how about it?"

I glance towards Jude, his face close to mine as we lean shoulder to shoulder out the window. Our tired eyes soak in the new sights of New York City, our empty stomachs growling in protest. We drove through the night to get here, but here we are.

"I dunno. It could be risky. I mean, she is our landlady…" I mumble through a barely contained smile. Jude notices me warming up to the idea and jumps at it.

"Where's your sense of adventure, mate?" he laughs, tipping his head to one side in order to get a better look at me, "What've we got to lose?"

"A month's worth of rent," I say, and Jude flinches.

"How about this, then. If she throws us out, I'll make up the difference. And besides," he adds, that smile growing on his face again, "if you win and we stay, I pay two months rent."

"And if you win…"

"Then you pay two months. It is a bit unfair though, yeah? The odds are tipped in your favor."

I squint my eyes at him, once again trying, and failing, to read my best friend's intentions.

"Okay, bet's on," I grin, shaking his hand, "no backing out now. I'm afraid my charm, intellect and wit have already won me this one, Judith."

"Don't forget those dashingly good looks of yours," he adds, laughing and pushing himself away from the windowsill.

"How could I? Nobody else can," I retort, turning around to face Jude as I lean up against the windowsill.

The sounds of New York filter in through the open window, cars honking, voices yelling. The stifling air enters my nostrils and surrounds me, pressing in on all sides. I lean heavily against the windowsill, my eyelids growing heavier as the moments tick by.

"Here Max," Jude says, and I jump at the sound of his voice, "I found some blankets in the other room. I tried to get a pillow out from under the bloke who's sleepin' on the couch, but he wouldn't have it…"

"'m not tired," I protest, stretching my arms into the air.

"Come off it. You're practically asleep on your feet as it is," he says, ignoring me as he tosses the blankets onto the bed we'll have to fight over. Or share. Jude climbs into bed and motions to me, "now c'mere," he yawns, kicking off his shoes and stretching his thin body across the mattress, his height making the bed look too short.

"I thought this bet was about Sadie," I notice, smirking as I fall into bed next to Jude.

"Don't be weird," he chuckles, "the bet is still on. Whoever shags Sadie first…" he pauses to yawn, "gets a free ride for two months."

"May the best man win."

Jude's POV

Throwing my arms over my head, I attempt to block out the harsh noise floating into our bedroom from the kitchen. I roll over and groan, immediately noticing that Max no longer lies beside me. Slowly I sit up. Wiping at my eyes, I see that the bathroom door is closed and yawn as I consider walking into the kitchen. I smile. This is my chance to catch Sadie when Max isn't around.

I drag my feet into the other room, and spot Sadie pulling a bowl out of the cupboard and filling it with some sort of porridge-type substance she has just heated up. I don't even consider asking her what that is; I don't particularly think I want to know. Instead I shuffle over beside her and pry the refrigerator open.

"Mornin'," I mumble, grabbing a carton of milk. She brushes a piece of hair out of her face.

"That milk is old, but there are a few more bowls in the cupboard and I think some cereal is left under the sink. Spoons are a little iffy; I'd say you should rinse one off before you eat with it," she rambles, leaving me wide-eyed. Glancing down carefully, my eyes find the edge of her robe, slightly opening to reveal the curve of her breast. Looking away quickly before she realizes I'm staring, I feign an itch on my eyelid and turn away to fight temptation.

"I think I'll just…" I start when she lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I hope you two slept well last night. I forgot I was going to come in and give you another blanket. Fuckin' cold, man. Fuck this town sometimes. I love it too much to leave, but on nights like that I just want to pack up and go," she says, fixing her robe to cover herself completely then heading over to the table. Setting my milk carton down on the counter, I cross my arms and press them against my chest.

"I quite like it 'ere," Sadie smiles in response, and her robe falls open again, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"You've only been here a night, darlin'. Just you wait and see. You'll love it, sure, but you'll hate it at the same time. All these artists come here to make it and shit and all they do is get sucked up by the city and the drugs and the people. Not like I'm one to talk." I listen intently, admiring the smooth sound of her voice. I can tell she's a singer. She's not as young as the rest of her roommates but she fits. She doesn't need to be young.

With a body like that, she could be eighty and she would still fit.

"Hun? You okay?" Sadie asks, her head cocked to the side. I blink a few times, and realize that I hadn't been paying attention.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Tired, I guess," I chuckle. "Hey, eh, Sadie, d'you think…" I begin, only to be stopped once again. Sadie stands up from her chair, tossing her bowl in the sink.

"I gotta go, man. We need a new guitarist. Most of the people I've seen are shit, but we gotta find someone eventually, right?" she walks quickly into her room just as Max is exiting ours in a loosely fitting robe.

"Hey, man," he says, and I give him a small nod.

Sadie rushes from her room, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Max raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of us.

"I'll see you guys, later," she says before exiting, and I offer a wave. Turning back toward the fridge, I lightly pound my fist against the side of the door.

"So," Max starts, sidling up next to me. "That looks like it went well," he smirks. I roll my eyes, reaching around him to retrieve my milk carton. With my free hand, I pull at the sash of his robe, untying it and letting the front fall open. His eyes widen in shock as he scrambles to knot it again.

"It went fine," I say, throwing myself gently onto the couch.

Max's POV

I sit alone on the couch, perusing the New York Times after a fitful night's sleep. I didn't have trouble sleeping, but Jude must have because he nearly kicked me onto the floor at least three different times…

"That paper is a week old, you know," Sadie's raspy voice says, and I look up to find her standing in the doorway to her room.

"Yeah," I reply, putting it aside, "I, uh…I noticed."

I hadn't.

"You been to sleep yet, or…?" she asks, moving out of her doorway to the kitchen. I stand up to follow her.

"Woke up after five hours," I say, holding up five fingers, "but sleep is for the weak, right?" I give Sadie my best smile when she looks over her shoulder at me.

"I dunno, man," she replies, "I wouldn't be up this early if I didn't have to be."

Strike one.

"No rest for the weary, huh?" I chuckle nervously, leaning against the counter where Sadie is making coffee. She makes a noncommittal noise and ignores me. I choose to get rid of the throwaway comments and instead attempt a normal conversation. "Everyone says New York is a mean city, but it hasn't been so bad yet. I mean, everyone here is cool."

"This city goes through more people than the war," Sadie mumbles, glancing over at me, "chews you up and spits you out, man."

"Well, so far so good," I contradict, blowing a piece of hair out of my face, "for me, at least."

"So you and Jude," she says suddenly, making me raise my eyebrows, "how'd you meet?"

"I ran into him at Princeton," I explain, seeing her eyebrows shoot up when I mention my old school, "he was looking for his dad, I guess."

"How long ago was that? A year or two now?" she continues, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"No, no," I laugh, "last week."

"No…" she trails, disbelief etched in her face, "are you kidding?"

"Never," I swear, "not me."

Sadie blows on her coffee to cool it, a contemplative look entering her eyes as she stares at me from across the room. She regards me carefully, a smile growing on her lips.

"So you're the one I have to keep my eye on, huh?" she asks, and I smile, batting my eyelashes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about…" I joke, and she laughs.

"Uh huh," she deadpans, and I turn to root around in the cupboards.

"Nah, man," I continue, pulling out a box of granola, "I like you, Sadie. I mean, I like this place."

"Well, you're welcome to stay," she says, refilling her cup of coffee, "as long as I get my payments on time."

"Tough love," I chuckle, grabbing a handful of granola, "you're breakin' my heart, man."

Sadie smiles and shoots me a look before moving to leave the room.

"Trust me, you'll figure this out soon enough," she promises, and my eyes follow her as she stands by the doorway, "I've gotta go get some things done, so make yourself at home. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Alright," I mumble, shoving some of the granola into my mouth as Sadie's curvy body exits the room.

I set the box of granola on the counter once I hear the door to the stairwell shut, announcing that Sadie has left. I wonder what needs to be done at six in the morning.

Yawning, I make my way back to the bedroom. That didn't go as well as I had hoped. I smile when I imagine how Jude's attempt must have played out. Sadie's pretty intimidating... I don't think either of us realized how much of a challenge we're in for.

Oh well. I'm always up for a challenge.

"Jude," I say once I'm in our bedroom, pushing the beads out of my face, "Jude, man, c'mon. Wake up."

I wait to see if the other man listens to me, and when his only response is to pull the blankets up over his face I make my way to the edge of the bed.

"Mornin' sleepy head," I say in a slight southern drawl, running my finger up his arm, "you up for a little fun?"

Jude is barely able to register what's going on before I jump into bed on top of him, hearing the breath escape him as I land on his lower stomach, my hands pinning his arms down. Jude's eyes open wide for a moment, his chest rising and falling quickly before he glares at me and attempts to pull his arms free.

"Not yet, honey," I continue, my impression of Sadie breaking for a moment as I chuckle quietly.

"Max? Wha…what the hell are you doin'?" he asks, his brown eyes going wide again as I lean down over him, his uneven breath bouncing off of my lips that are twisted up into a smirk.

"Max? I'm Sadie," I reply, leaning closer and closer, "This is me. Out of bounds."

Suddenly Jude pushes up into me, breaking my hold on him as he flips me over onto my back, his lanky body covering mine as he smiles down at me.

"Well then, uh, Sadie," he mumbles, pressing his hips into mine to hold me down, "what exactly did you have in mind?"

I laugh and press at Jude's shoulders, signaling that this game has ended. Jude doesn't move.

"C'mon Jude," I say, still smiling, "get off of me."

"No," he states, moving his knees so that he's straddling my lap, "no, I don't think so. You aren't gettin' off that easily, mate."

"Wha…?" I start to ask but am cut off when Jude's fingers jab into my side, causing me to make a strangled noise in the back of my throat, "Oh, don't you even think…"

Jude grins before he starts tickling me, his fingers dancing over my sides and ribs. I squirm underneath him, laughing breathlessly in between my pleas for mercy.

"Jude, shit man!" I yell, pushing at his arms, trying vainly to escape, "Fuckin'…hate you... Stop!"

Jude laughs as he sits back in my lap, his eyes shining as he watches me try to catch my breath.

"I think I've learned something useful today," he says, reaching forward to play with the bottom of my t-shirt, "Max Carrigan is really bloody ticklish."

"Yeah, well Jude Feeney is really fuckin' dead," I snarl, trying to push the other man off of me. Jude stays put, however, his hands moving to grip the sides of my waist.

"Sorry mate," he apologizes, a smile on his lips, "you'll just have to forgive me."

I sigh and give up, letting my hands drift over to where Jude's thighs are straddling my hips. I place one hand on each thigh, my heart still pounding quickly in my chest.

"Will you get off of me now?" I ask, looking up to see Jude staring raptly at me. I hold his gaze, finding myself wondering, not for the first time, what exactly is going on in that head of his.

Jude doesn't answer me but instead moves his right hand up from my waist to cup the side of my face, his thumb running along my cheek. I swallow thickly, my heart pounding in my throat as Jude's hand continues down to grip the side of my neck, his fingers shaking slightly.

I reach up to grab the hair at the nape of Jude's neck, feeling the soft locks between my fingers as I pull him down towards me, our eyes still locked. Jude's lips hover above mine, and just before I give one final tug to complete the action I hear the Brit's smooth voice.

"Will you behave?" he asks, his voice strangled.

"…what?" I say, blinking as I realize what almost happened.

"If I let you up," he clarifies, "will you be good?"

I manage to nod, even though I don't want to, and watch as Jude clambers off of me, his shoulders tense as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. I push myself up onto my elbows and regard Jude curiously.

Forget Sadie. I think I've just discovered something a hell of a lot more interesting…

Jude's POV

Dipping my arms under the faucet in the bathroom, I try to scrub away the long, dark charcoal stains. I don't even want to look up into the mirror; I haven't showered in a few days. I've been too busy working on trying to get a job. Which has ended up being time spent drawing, sleeping and eating.

I'm not too upset about it.

After drying off my arms with a questionable towel hanging over the shower, I decide that I don't want to sleep or eat, so I might as well draw. So much for getting my arms clean.

I walk through the kitchen and into the room I have set up as an art studio of sorts, reaching over the table to grab a pencil. Unfortunately, the moonlight isn't enough to draw by, so I flip on the old lamp next to me. Before I can start to draw, I hear Sadie mumbling something in the other room. Leaning over on my stool, I catch sight of her, face flushed and that bloody robe wide open.

"This goddamn apartment always smells like shit…if it weren't so damn cold I'd open a window. Fuckin' hell, man," she mutters to herself, I assume; if there is someone else in the room I can't see them.

I balance myself out on the stool again and pick up my pencil, pressing it lightly to the paper in front of me. My hand stays still, but my mind runs through sweet-smelling things.

Flowers. Flowers would smell nice in the apartment.

A smile spreads across my lips and I throw my pencil onto the table. I'll wake up early in the morning, buy some flowers, and set them out before Sadie wakes up.

The next morning I go out at eight, too fucking early in my opinion, and buy some tulips from a guy who I now assume is homeless. They smell nice, anyway. When I get back to the apartment I remember that I have nothing to put them in, so I settle for a glass I find in the cupboard. As I fill it with water, a shirtless Max pops his head out of our room and we share a second of silence before he returns to bed. I smile. He wishes he'd thought of this.

Jumping back into bed with Max, I cross my arms behind my head and try to drift back asleep for at least an hour or two more. I can hear Max scoff at me before I close my eyes.

Max wakes me by slamming the bathroom door, causing me to jerk violently and knock my elbow against the headboard.

"Fuck!" I hiss, rubbing at my injury and wincing in pain. Why the hell does Max always need the bathroom immediately after he wakes up? Sometimes I wonder if Mrs. Carrigan knows she has three daughters…

Remembering the flowers I set out the night before, I hurry excitedly to the kitchen, only to find Sadie sniffing them. Proudly, I smirk as she lifts one closer to her nose and glances over toward me.

"Someone brought flowers," she comments, sleep still evident in her eyes.

"Yeah, guess they did." I slip my shirt on groggily, seating myself at the kitchen table. Pressing my elbows to the wooden surface, I watch carefully as she places the tulip back in the murky water.

"Don't tulips smell horrible?" she asks, and my breath catches in my throat.

"Eh, I…I don't mind 'em." I try to recover, as if I'm going to convince her to adjust to the smell.

"Never been a fan," she concludes, before placing a hand on her hip and facing me. "Have you seen my robe? I just had it last night."

Have I seen it? That's a ridiculous question…

"No, sorry," I say, faking a smile. She shrugs in defeat and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door loudly in frustration. I guess she likes that robe as much as I do.

Glancing over at the flowers, they suddenly look much worse than they did last night. I sigh.

"Shit," I whisper to myself before hearing the sound of beads and seeing Max making his way through our make-shift door. He struts out with an arrogant grin, sporting Sadie's robe tied so loosely around his waist that I'm grateful he decided to put underwear on this morning. Well, grateful might not be the right word…

"Flowers, Judey? You shouldn't have!" Max screeches in false delight, skipping over to me and promptly seating himself on my lap. I scowl until he squeezes his thighs together against mine. "I didn't know you were a tulip man," he whispers into my ear, his arms thrown around my neck. I give in, resting my hands on his hips and dragging him closer to my body.

"I guess I am, yeah," I breathe, digging my fingers into his…er…Sadie's robe. As usual, the robe falls open at the chest, and I lean my head down cautiously, pressing a light kiss to Max's collarbone. I can feel his fingers play with the hair at the back of my neck, and I moan quietly when he uses it to pull my tongue from his chest.

"Fuck," I mumble before he hotly pushes our mouths together, his fingers still dug deeply into my neck. Thrusting my hips upward, I run my tongue over Max's slowly. I begin to drag my hands up his robe, drifting underneath the fabric to feel his warm skin.

Max scrambles to untie the garment from around his waist without breaking the kiss, and eventually frees himself with a sigh. My hands roam his upper body until I decide I need more. I grab his thighs ruthlessly, forcing him toward me. We're both too…excited for a move like that, and our mouths split apart in a shared moan and breathless laughter.

I kiss him again softly, pulling away after a second to cup his cheek in my hand.

"I hope you don't think this changes anything," he says, unbuttoning my shirt with his shaking fingers. "I still intend on living here rent-free for two months."

"Well, I don't know about that," I start, reaching down to help him, "but the Sadie bet is still on." I grip the back of his neck to meet his lips again before he can respond.

That fucking robe.

We'll have more up soon! And in the great words of Sir Thomas More:

"...Besides, some readers are so ungrateful that, even if they enjoy a book immensely, they don't feel any affection for the author. They're like rude guests who after a splendid dinner-party go home stuffed with food, without saying a word of thanks to their host..."

In short, please R&R. Thanks!