So today, for whatever reason, Gazzy wanted to try paintballing. Great. He seemed genuinely surprised when I so eagerly agreed, seeing no harm in a little target practice. It would be a good thing for the Flock. Iggy made breakfast as Fang and I searched for the closest, yet least-populated venue, finding one just thirty miles out.

We piled in the hot food- wolfing it down by force of habit. Not too long ago we were clueless as to when our next meal was coming. After the dishes were cleared from the table, the plates practically licked clean, I retreated to my room to get dressed. I turned the corner at the top of the staircase, finding Nudge sitting in my doorway.

"Max! I have nothing to wear!" She whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You've got to be kidding me. Nudge, your closet can swallow everybody else's and then some. You literally own half a department store." I argued, ready to leave her nonsense behind.

"That's not what I mean! I don't want to get anything ruined! I don't have clothes for this type of thing!" She rebutted.

"This type of thing? Sorry we don't go to enough cocktail parties, sweetie. We were on the run for a year and you didn't seem to have a problem getting a little dirty then. Pick something out and deal." I finished, leaving her in the hallway. I heard a few huffs as she stormed away, deciding which articles of clothing were getting sacrificed to the fashion gods.

"As I finally stepped into my bedroom and started to strip, I noticed something unusual. Breathing. But it wasn't coming from me.

"Fang!" I called out with a tinge of venom in my tone, watching as he appeared from the shadows. Fuck him and his whole invisibility mutation.

"Max." Fang replied, tipping his head to acknowledge my unwelcoming greeting.

"What the Hell are you doing in here? You knew well and clear that I was coming upstairs to get dressed!" I accused, crossing my arms over my bra-clad chest.

"I wanted to borrow a skirt?" Fang offered as a lame excuse.

"Get out!" I demanded. He knew that I despised when he sneaked up on me fully clothed, did he expect a different outcome when I was half-naked? Was he that much of a moron? Or was it recent events that justified being a perverse idiot to himself?

It's a good thing that I get to blow off steam paint-balling.

Still in a grouchy mood, I ushered my slow-moving Flock out the door and into the air. I was the only one carrying a backpack, as somebody needed to be equipped with snacks and money. And who else would that somebody be but myself?

The flight to the paintballing place was only around twenty minutes. It was closer to town than I had anticipated, and that threw me off slightly. Regardless, the only surrounding businesses were a local coffee shop and a car repair shop, so I wasn't all that concerned with hoards of people showing up with fire and pitchforks.

We landed behind an abandoned garage perpendicular to the repair shop, conspicuously walking around to the sidewalk. Upon arrival at the paintball place, Uncle Jim's, we were greeted by two head-to-toe denim-clad men with maybe ten teeth between the two of them. They kindly greeted us in strong southern accents, guiding us to the registration desk.

By desk he meant a stack of hay with a piece of cardboard over it.

I'm liking this place more and more by the second.

"Is one of y'all over eighteen?" The shorter of the pair asked.

"Why?" I replied, not seeing the relevance.

"'Cause we need a adult to sign the wavers dismissing liability if any of y'all get hurt." The other explained.

"I'm eighteen, and so is Nick over here." I lied, knowing that we could've passed for twenty if need be. Seeing that we were the only probably business in the past weeks, the pair did not question our statement, handing us the papers to be signed. Once we had done so, and paid the $20 per person fee, we were led to the arsenal of paint-gunning products.

Each of us got assigned our own color, so we could decipher who was most successful, and were shooed off to gun each other's brains out. With paint.

Everyone got one minute of a head start in the huge maze that made up the battle field. I could hear Gazzy and Iggy already building up an alliance, and surely enough green paint was the first to strike my figure. Green belonged to Gazzy.

"Ha! I got you Max!" Gazzy cheered, disclosing his location. Dumbass. As a result three different colors of paint came catapulting into his chest. Red from Fang, purple from Nudge, and pink from Angel. I added a blue splotch by his knee of my own as well.

Gazzy had quickly recovered, resuming some offensive stance with Iggy covering his backside. How the blind kid was going to shoot a gun and actually hit someone beats me. Shots from the duo were fired in all directions, Iggy managing to get a shot on Nudge and Gazzy shooting his own sister in the chest.

With a few low shrieks and profanities, the rest of the Flock scattered in all directions. We were in combat with each other for what seemed to be triple the hour we had paid for. Everyone was worn out by the end of it, and the flight home was dragged out to take twice as long as it did on the way there.

The other result of our little paintball extravaganza? I was covered head-to-toe in paint. Literally. I made the kids practically strip all paint-soaked clothing off in the mudroom before tracking it through the rest of the house, the four of them sprinting to claim one of the three showers shared between them. Fang waited behind, saying he'd throw the clothes in the wash and shower a little later. I nodded, then walked on my tiptoes upstairs, looking back to see that I had only trailed a few drops of paint.

I entered my bathroom, closing the door behind me. Stripping off the last remaining articles of what used to be acceptable clothing, I turned on the water, watching paint swirl down the drain as my hand became a hand again. When the water finally became a bearable temperature, I stepped in, more paint than water pooling beneath my feet. I really was a mess.

I grabbed for the soap, turning around when I realized it was missing. I swear it was there when I got in. I checked the other walls of the shower, wondering if I had moved it for some reason, all spots coming up negative. I opened the curtain slightly, scanning the ground to see if the bottle had fallen. Nope. Just as I was about to close the curtain, I found it. In Fang's paint-speckled hand.

I almost shrieked his name, sending it away in a harsh whisper instead in order to avoid the Flock hearing it.

"What in Hell do you think you are doing? I'm naked!" I scolded, covering my dripping body as best I could with the sheer curtain.

"Nothing I haven't seen before." Fang defended, starting to strip off his clothing as well.

"Again- what in Hell do you think you're doing?" I scowled.

"What? You think this paint is going to magically disappear?" He answered, now down to just his boxers.

"You have your very own bathroom! Use it!"

"Water pressure is too low. Won't do the job in this situation."

"Then shower when I'm done!" I exclaimed, completely and utterly aggravated.

"You want to save the world- saving water is a start." Fang rationalized.

And now he's naked.

As much as I wanted to holler at him to get the hell out of the bathroom and go fuck himself, his arousal made me slightly wet. The kind that isn't caused by the roaring shower head. I sighed, knowing that I was fighting a losing battle, and granted him access to the steaming water. Just like that.

Who the hell have I become?

"See? It's not so bad. I don't bite. Hard." Fang said as he handed me my stolen soap.

I rolled my eyes, popping the cap open as the lemon-smelling liquid squirted into my hand. Fang watched as I lathered up my arms and shoulders, the rainbow-coloring of my skin fading. Realizing I'd need a significantly larger amount of soap to see my body again, I reached for the bottle once more, but Fang pulled it away from me.

"Allow me." He requested, knowing that I wouldn't deny. I rolled my eyes at his gesture, turning to face away from him so he could at least be useful and clean the spots on my back that I couldn't reach. He lathered up his hands with a generous amount of soap, running his palms in circles around my lower waist. He gradually moved up, just to the bottom of my wings, and then down to my waist again. Just a finger's width from my bare, slightly stained behind.

His hands slipped to my abdomen, trapping me in his embrace as he washed just below my bust, teasing me. His- excitement- was pressed against my back as he pulled me in closer. I groaned impatiently, placing my hands over his and moving them to the underbelly of my breasts. I heard him chuckle under his breath as he took the hint, gently cupping each mound in one hand and giving me a light squeeze. He took more time than necessary to lather them up before he extended his arm and took the shower head off the hook, bringing the stream of water just inches away from my soapy body for a more intimate rinse. I whimpered in ecstasy as the warm liquid swirled around my hardening nipples, the stream of soap traveling down my legs until it diminished into a puddle around my feet.

Fang replenished the supply of cleanser in his hand, holding the shower head between his legs. I looked down at my lower half, seeing that only my legs remained riddled with color. Fang didn't seem to have the patience to continue washing it off, as he skipped over my legs entirely. With soap in his left hand and the water source in his right, he sensually foamed my loins with a generous amount of soap. My hips bucked as his hands glided over all the right spots, which inevitably encouraged his actions more.

He sat me down on the ledge of the tub and spread my legs as wide as they could go. He knelt down for better access, continuing to soap up my crotch until there was nothing but a V of white bubbles. I sucked in a breath as he replaced his hands with the shower head, adjusting the setting to a softer, more concentrated stream. Fang held the shower head in front of my spread legs way after all the soap had wafted down the drain, using the trickling sensation to get me off my personal high.

I bit my lip to suppress my moans, as I did not want the Flock knowing any miniscule detail of what we were doing. I was Maximum Ride; I had an image to maintain. Fang didn't seem to mind in the slightest that he was tarnishing my reputation by the second, turning the force of the water up to the next notch.

I covered my mouth with my hand and screamed into it, throwing my head back in ecstasy. My eyes rolled back into my head as my hips bucked closer to the source of my pleasure. My climax was so powerful it rocked me backwards, sending me straight to the hard tiles of my bathroom floor.

I didn't really notice until I came down from my high, catching my breath as I pulled myself off the floor and sat back up on the ledge of the tub. Fang was practically in tears as he struggled to force back his laughter, a few snorts breaking free. An ear-to-ear smile took over his face, and I started to blush uncontrollably.

"Well..." Fang started to chuckle, unable to finish his sentence with a straight face. He wasn't going to let this slide without something else to... focus on.

I slid off the side of the tub and onto the slippery floor, propping up onto my knees. Fang was so lost in a state of amusement that he hadn't even realized I budged until my lips were tight around his engorged member.

Fang sucked in a breath as I lowered my mouth down his shaft, using my tongue to swirl around the sensitive flesh. Profanities mixed with my name flew out of Fang's mouth faster than I could make out. He was so far gone into his state of bliss that he probably couldn't even remember his own name, let alone last minute's incident. I was almost ready to trip him, sending him falling through the curtain without even knowing what was happening.

However, the mental image of what my lips were doing to Fang was too much of a turn on to send hurling out of the shower, no matter how satisfying it would be to my ego. Fang's eyebrows were furrowed tightly, his face slightly contorted with pleasure. His breathing was ragged, and at some moments it hitched, which I guess was as close to a moan as I was getting from him at the moment.

I curiously brought my hand up to stroke the two neglected sacks dangling in between his legs, fondling them softly while waiting for a response. Fang half grunted, which was more than a hitch, yet still not the moan I was looking for. I added my other hand, using it to grip the base of Fang's throbbing helper that I couldn't reach with my mouth. Another grunt.

Moan, god dammit!

I bobbed my head as fast as I could, Fang's hips involuntarily moving at the same pace. "Max– I'm gonna..." He panted before he erupted into me, letting out one throaty, husky moan as he did so. My name was slurred in there as well, which was more than I was going for.

Warm liquid spilled into my mouth, and I swallowed it. Fang's eyes practically popped out of his head when he opened them after he recovered and saw me licking the last drops of his semen off my chin.

"Did you really just–" He implied, surprised at my actions. I was as well, to be honest. I didn't consider myself some sex vixen who swallowed instead of spit.

I nodded, smirking as he muttered, "Damn."

I got off all fours and stood up, handing him the bottle of soap once more.

"Here. Even in the shower you manage to get dirty." I said, fully meaning the double entendre. He graciously accepted it, lathering himself up as I exited the through the gap in the curtain. I snatched my towel from the rack and dried off, exiting the bathroom with my colorful clothes in tow.

"Max." Nudge spied me as I turned the corner to my bedroom.

"Yes?"

"Why is the water in your shower still on if you're out here?" She questioned. Gulp.

"Um," I stuttered, trying to formulate a lie as quickly as I could. "I just wanted to make sure all the paint goes down the drain so the shower isn't stained or anything."

"Oh. That's smart." Nudge replied. "And by the way, dab the paint out with cold water. Otherwise it'll– nevermind. Hand me the clothes, I'll do it. I don't want to see perfectly good clothing get ruined." She added, taking my shirt and shorts away from me. She disappeared down the stairs, voluntarily doing laundry. Huh.

At least she was still down there when Fang walked out of the bathroom, covering his privates as he tiptoed to his bedroom. I gave away my position across the hall as I giggled when I saw his wet, naked rear end racing to cover. I had to get even somehow, and this was just priceless.

"You!" He hollered to me, leaping into my bedroom instead.

"Me?" I giggled.

"Where is my towel?"

"Who said I took it?"

"Who else would want to see me naked?"

"I've already seen you naked. I have nothing to gain from that aspect."

Fang was rather speechless. I took pity on him, giving back the material that I stole out of the bathroom. He gave me an I-told-you-so look, then stomped out of my room like the prima donna he really is.

"Two can play this game." from down the hall, followed by the slam of his door.

It's on, Fangie-pie. Two may play a game, but only one can win.

And I never lose.