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Disclaimer: Not ours. If it were, Across the Universe would be a VERY different story...

Jude's POV

Pressing my ear to the door of the closet, I begin to laugh when I hear a violent crash resonate from inside. I tap my finger lightly against the wood.

"What're you doin' now? Don't break any of Sadie's stuff!" I call, quietly twisting the doorknob in my hand. Luckily, Max didn't think to lock it. Once the light hits his face he freezes, seated awkwardly inside of a cardboard box full of feather boas.

Five minutes earlier, I had woken to an empty bed. After a few seconds of searching my brain for an explanation, I remembered something Max had mentioned the night before in a fatigued stupor: he had never been inside Sadie's closet. I laughed it off at the time, not really sure why anyone would be so curious about a closet, but I should have expected Max to set off on an expedition the first chance he got.

"Fuck, man! Do you know the meaning of a fucking surprise?" he scolds, gripping the shelves on either side of him. "Just forget it, now. You've ruined my fun." Trying to push himself to a stand, he successfully slips, flipping the box toward the wall so his feet point slightly upwards. I am tempted to laugh, but after a few seconds I peer over the top of the box.

"Hey, eh, you okay?" I wonder aloud.

"I'm going to say no. Could you help me the fuck up?" He says bitingly, outstretching his arm for me to grab. I pull him to his feet gently, making sure to catch the box in my other hand to avoid a floor full of feather boas. Once he's firm on the floor, he wraps his arms around my body tightly, pressing his head to my shoulder.

"There is shit on this floor that I don't ever want another human being to witness. My first trip to this closet has now become my last trip," he whines into my shirt, pulling away and walking to the front door.

"You goin' somewhere?" He smiles, nods, and jerks his head to the side, asking me to join him.

"I need fresh air after an hour of exploring that fucking thing," he says, pointing toward the closet and opening the door. I shrug.

"Might as well…" I mumble before following him promptly out the door, pulling at his arm to slow him down once I catch up. Max looks back at me when he feels my grip, then pins me to the wall, pressing a gentle kiss to my mouth. Attempting to thrust my tongue until it makes contact with Max's, I grasp the back of his neck, coaxing him to open up. He refuses. Instead, he keeps our lips together softly, his body floating over mine, barely touching in any specific area.

I feel the heat of his body, inches away from me but unattainable. My legs automatically move towards him, and I shake with anticipation, wanting him badly, but sadistically loving this game he's playing. When he finally gives in I sigh in relief, pushing myself against him roughly to compensate for lost time. My leg wraps around his, pulling him closer, and I tangle my fingers in his long hair. Laughing at my now frequent moans into his mouth, Max breaks away from the kiss.

"That worked pretty damn well, if I do say so myself," he snickers, and I force our mouths back together, missing the contact. Seconds later, I feel much more satisfied, and allow Max to separate from me, but only by a few centimeters.

"So I messed up some sort of surprise, eh? And what was it?" Our noses touch when he leans forward in a laugh, and I take the opportunity to catch him in a quick kiss before he answers.

"Let's just say you missed your chance to see me sporting Sadie's old feather boas and your favorite robe of hers," he teases, flipping my collar up with his fingers. I raise an eyebrow.

"How'd you know…" I wonder aloud, trying to meet his eye line.

"Well, when you fucked me in it, I kind of assumed you had to be at least somewhat fond of the thing." My cheeks blush, and instead of rambling on thanks or making a fool of myself with any sort of verbalization of how fucking much I wish we weren't up against a wall in a public place, I opt to flip Max against the wall, switching our positions, and bury my face deep into his neck. He groans when my tongue meets his bare skin, and I smile. Maybe fucking him against a wall could work if no one walks out of their apartment…

"Let's go outside," Max moans into the space above my head. Jerking my mouth away from his neck, I frown at him when we meet eye to eye. "You can finish this out there. I need the fresh air," he comforts me, gently rubbing a hand against the small of my back. Shrugging, I allow him to again lead me to a new destination.

Twenty minutes later we stop in front of a worn down ice cream parlor. The paint is chipping off of the walls, and the light in the sign blinks at us sporadically. It appears a little shifty, but if Max wants ice cream, then ice cream he will get. And evidently, he does.

He pulls me inside with enthusiasm, and jumps to the front counter to examine the menu; that is, the choice of three flavors of ice cream that the tiny shop offers. Looking back, Max summons me to the counter next to him, and I gaze down at the pitch black chocolate, crusty white vanilla, and questionable strawberry before me.

An employee appears from the kitchen, and after taking a second to wonder why a kitchen is necessary in a run-down ice cream shop with three flavors, I notice that he is impatiently tapping his fingers against his arm, awaiting my order. Rolling my eyes, I take a breath and decide to take a chance on the strawberry. You can't mess up strawberry ice cream that much, can you?

"I'll have the…" I begin, when, luckily, I catch sight of a banana, hiding in between the edge of the glass and the vanilla. Elbowing Max lightly in the side, I change my order hastily. "Can I have one of those, eh, banana splits?" I ask, pointing at the large banana tucked away in the corner. The gruff employee scoffs, but when Max begins to pull out money, he surrenders.

A minute or so later, I'm carting my banana split to a seedy table by a so-called restroom in the back. Max licks strawberry ice cream out of the cone in his hand, and I chuckle when he squirms in repulsion.

I knew it looked suspicious…

We take our seats in the booth across from each other, but not before Max dumps his cone into the trash can.

"Waste of fuckin' money," he groans, watching as I set my dessert down on the table and eye it hungrily.

"Yeah," I mumble, pushing the banana out of the way with my spoon and scooping up the vanilla ice cream surrounding it. Unfortunately, as I soon find out, I'm quite out of practice when it comes to gracefully eating ice cream, and the melting liquid runs quickly down the spoon and all over my hand. I waste no time in removing it with my mouth, looping my tongue between my fingers and across my palm. After a few more similar bites, I give up, drop the spoon, and use my pointer finger to pick up chunks of remaining ice cream.

I gather all that I can on my fingers, and each time, suck it off hurriedly before it slides down my arm. Dipping my finger down for another helping, I realize that Max has been staring at me the entire time.

"You getting a kick outta this, mate?" Max nods before I finish my sentence, reaching his hand across the table and imitating my previous behavior. He dips one of his fingers into the ice cream, swiftly trailing it in between my lips. I tongue his finger completely, scraping every last drip from his skin and then some.

"What about your banana?" he asks suggestively with a smirk. I wipe my damp fingers on my jeans.

"I was saving it for the end," I answer, and watch as he picks up the peeled fruit with his left hand.

"You ever seen Lady and the Tramp?" Max says, readying himself to place the banana in his mouth. I shake my head. "Whatever," he blows it off, putting one end of the banana between his lips and leaning over the table to fit the remaining half against mine. I accept it, and start to understand what he's looking to do.

Slowly, we bite our way toward the center, and eventually, Max reaches his hand out to rest on the back of my neck, as if that will help him get more in his mouth. I pull on the front of his t-shirt, and try not to choke on the massive pieces of thick banana caking the insides of my mouth. Closing my eyes, I feel only slightly guilty that the front of my jeans are becoming increasingly tighter.
Only a few bites in, Max shakes his head fervently, allows the banana to drop to the table, and forces our lips together. At first I find it difficult to move past the chunks of food in my mouth, but when Max breaks the kiss, stands up and joins me on one side of the booth, I am allowed a few seconds to swallow and focus on something much more interesting.

Max kneels in front of me, leaning his mouth down to meet mine again. I wrap my arms around his middle, pulling him toward me so his hips jut into my stomach.

"That worked better in the movie. Then again, it was a cartoon. And they used spaghetti," Max tells me , running his fingers through my hair while I hug him tightly to me.

"You disappoint me. I thought you could handle more banana than that, Max." I raise an eyebrow, and he throws his head back with a laugh.

"Oh, you have no idea," Max says seriously, removing himself from the booth and grasping my hand in his.

As Max leads me out of the shop and into a secluded alley nearby, pushes me against the wall, and proves his point – very well, I might add – I think of how grateful I am that I saw that banana. After all, I don't particularly find strawberry ice cream sexy…

Max's POV

I thumb through the mail on my way down the stairs, flipping through bills and letters from protesters urging me to take my part in the fight against injustice. Sadie, Sadie, George, Sadie, JoJo…

I pause when a letter bearing my name appears, and I look at the return address. It's from home.

I rip the envelope open and grab the folded piece of paper, smiling when I notice my sister Lucy's perfect handwriting all over the flowered stationary.

Max, it starts, and I pause to shove the rest of the mail into my backpack.

Max,

I hope this letter finds you okay… Mom gave me the address, but she wasn't sure if you were still living at this address. Something about "you disappearing in the middle of the night, without a word to alleviate the worry" you've put her through. I wonder what that could have been about, ha ha.

I graduated a month ago, and I know mom called to tell you what happened to Daniel… Now mom and dad want me to go to Europe with them. You know I wanted to go with you and Jude when you guys first left for the city. Is he still with you, by the way? He hasn't gone back to England yet, has he?

If he has, I was wondering if, instead of going to Europe with mom and dad, I could come stay with you in New York. I know it's a lot to ask, but I wouldn't be a burden. I promise. I hope you can understand; I just really don't want to be with mom and dad alone right now. Mom tries to help and understand, and dad pretends it didn't happen. I don't know why I expect you to understand better than they do, but I do.

In any case, I think I'll feel a lot better if I spend the summer with you. And if Jude is still around, then I don't need that much space. I would even stay with a friend of yours, if you wanted me to.

I hope to hear from you soon. I'm sorry for asking so much of you. Give me a call sometime, okay?

Love,

Lucy

After work, I climb back up the stairs tiredly, thoughts rushing through my mind. I push the door open and kick my shoes off, still wondering what to do about Lucy. It's not that I don't want my baby sister here, it's just that I don't really want my baby sister here. New York is a tough city, and I'm not sure how well the teenage suburban princess would take to the grit and grime that makes up this place.

I'm being too hard on her. It's not that I don't want Lucy here, exactly, it's just that I'm not sure if coming here is the best thing for her. Her boyfriend died only a few months ago, and I'm not sure what good I can do to help her through that. For once, I have no idea what to do or say.

Lucy and I are close enough, sure; as close as two siblings can be without really talking to each other. She has her problems, and I have mine. It's not like we share everything, staying up late having in-depth discussions. I don't know what she expects from me. I don't know what she expects to happen by coming to stay with her older brother for a summer.

I can get her drugs, I can get her alcohol, but as far as emotional support goes…

I'm a great role model.

I pick up the phone and dial the right numbers before shoving the phone to my ear. I don't know what to say, but prolonging this phone call definitely won't help.

"Hello?" Julia picks up, and I clear my throat.

"Hey, Julia," I say quickly, "is Luce there?"

"Max?" she asks, and I nod my head before realizing I have to say something.

"Yeah, it's me," I mumble, wondering where this feeling of not belonging to my family came from. Here, in New York, I sometimes forget I have a real, biological family who isn't the tight knit group of people I room with. It's so easy to get lost here.

"You want to talk to Lucy?" she continues, stalling, "Mom's here, and dad is on his way home from…"

"Just Lucy, Julia," I say sternly, knowing that a "chat" with my mom is the last thing I need right now.

"Okay, one second," she says, and I press my hand to the wall in front of me for support. I'm going to have to tell her no.

"Hello?" Lucy's voice says, and I imagine her in her room, lying on her bed with the phone chord stretching halfway across the room.

"Hi," I say, "how are you?"

"I'm alright," she answers, her voice tight, measured, "I slept in until 10 this morning. Mother had a fit."

I laugh.

"I, uh… I got your letter," I continue, cutting to the chase after Lucy talks for a moment about her summer vacation and how she's already finished several books by authors whose names I remember from high school.

"Oh, is that right?" she says nervously, "…what do you think?"

"Look, Lucy," I start, but stop when I feel a pair of hands slide around my waist from behind, "could you hold on a second?" I ask, and pull the phone from my ear. "I'm on the phone," I tell Jude, turning around to face him.

"I can see that," he smiles, and I glare at him. I sigh and push the phone back to my ear.

"Sorry," I apologize, and Lucy reassures me that it's okay, "About your letter, though…" I point to the table when Jude asks me what letter, his body heat leaving me when he goes to see what I'm talking about, "I'm working this summer, a lot, and there's really not much room in the flat… Jude is still here and I need to talk it over with Sadie, the landlady. Ultimately it's up to her, Luce."

"I know, and if it's too much trouble then just forget about it," she says quickly, obviously relieved that I didn't just say no and have that be the end of it.

"…you sure?" I ask, "You sure that coming here will be okay?" I elaborate awkwardly, relaxing a little bit when Jude wraps his arms around my waist again, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"Yeah, totally," she says nonchalantly, "I mean, it'll be better than being cooped up with mom and dad for a few weeks."

"Alright," I sigh, rubbing my forehead, "let me talk it over with the guys here, and I'll let you know before the end of the week."

"Okay," she says, her voice hopeful, "thanks, Max."

"Mm," I grunt, my throat feeling tight as Jude's hands rub over my stomach, "I'll call you later, alright?"

"Alright. Talk to you later."

"Bye," I say, hanging up the phone just as Jude's fingers dip underneath the waistline of my jeans, "Jude," I continue, turning around to face him again, his hands settling on my hips, "what the hell?"

"What?" he asks, a frown on his lips.

"I don't know," I admit, leaning back against the wall, "never mind."

Jude watches me for a moment, his eyes calculating and calm as I silently beat myself up for not telling Lucy what I'm thinking. She can't come here, she wouldn't know what to do with herself. Or maybe…

I glance over to Jude, and suddenly the possibility that she would find too much to do with herself while she's here enters my mind.

"What is it, Max?" Jude asks again, worrying his lower lip in between his teeth.

"Nothing," I promise, running a hand through my hair, "what do you think about Lucy coming to stay here for the summer?"

"I don't care," Jude shrugs, his eyes lighting up as realization dawns on him, "one Carrigan is enough for me."

Jude moves to stand closely in front of me, his hands moving back to my hips as he leans in to place a light kiss on the side of my neck. I slide my hands up and over his chest, tangling my right hand into his messy hair. I push slightly on the back of his head, his lips pressing harder and harder against my skin until he grabs me away from the wall and pulls me up against him. He throws his arms around me in a tight hug, leaving me breathless as he buries his head in the space between my neck and shoulder.

His lips move softly against my skin as he talks.

"You're more than enough for me, Max," he whispers, and I let out a breathless chuckle. He really doesn't have to try very hard to be charming, does he?

"Well that's good," I mumble, petting the back of his head and letting my fingers trail over his neck, "because I am very selfish. Especially when it comes to…" I pull back and look at Jude, a lopsided smile on his face, his hair messed up, his dark eyes shining, "well."

I take his face in my hands and let my thumb run down his cheek before I kiss him, his lips meeting mine softly.

"Affection is all very well and good," Jude mumbles, smirking, "but in between work and all the girls you've shacked up with this past week, you've barely found time for your best mate, don't you think?"

"I could say the same for you, you know," I counter, "well, almost. Minus the work part."

"I'm sellin' my paintings," he protests, grinning as I push him back towards the couch.

"Yeah, to Georgey," I scoff, "and he doesn't count."

"What?" he laughs, falling onto the couch after I shove him lightly in the chest, "He does too count. He gives me money for 'em, doesn't he? He counts…" Jude trails, his expression turning serious as I crawl on top of him. His hands grip the backs of my thighs as I straddle his lap, my elbows leaning on his shoulders with my fingers tangled thickly in his dark hair.

The conversation dead ends with Jude staring up at me, his lips slightly parted, his breathing shallow, his eyes wide, expectant.

"You're like a dog begging for a treat, man," I laugh, successfully breaking the tension between us. Jude groans and lets his head fall against the back of the couch.

"I'm sorry, am I here for a reason?" he asks, a sharp edge to his tone.

"Hey, calm down, you'll get what you came for," I joke, adopting a thick New York accent.

Jude sighs, his brown eyes pleading with me to stop. He'll just have to deal. The things a twelve hour shift will do to a mind…

Especially when the mind was twisted enough to begin with.

I quickly pull my shirt over my head, giving Jude what he wants. And me. I want this too. I wasn't lying before when I said I'm selfish.

Jude is immediately pulling me closer to him, his hands ghosting over my back and shoulders. His mouth is on my chest, pressing against my collarbone. I reach down and tug his shirt up and off of him before pushing my mouth against his.

I press into Jude so that he's forced to lie down on the couch, my back arched as I lean over him. I stretch out, my body now covering his as I slide my tongue against his, coaxing a moan from him.

"Christ," Jude breathes when I pull away from him, quickly adding a "fuck, Max…" when I grind my hips against his.

Jude's hands reach up to grab me by the back of the neck and force me down into a kiss, lips pressing together, tongues entangling until I pull back, biting his lip lightly as I let go. I sit back up and fumble around with the fly on Jude's jeans, glancing up when I hear the other man make a noise in the back of his throat.

"H…hey, Prudence," Jude manages to say, and my eyes grow wide when I notice the small girl standing in the doorway.

I let out a short laugh before collapsing on top of Jude to bury my head in the side of his neck, his chest heaving against mine. I take deep breaths to try and calm myself down.

Jude starts to sit up when Prudence stops him.

"No, please, God, don't let me…" she rambles, a grin on her face, "don't let me interrupt you two. Looks like you were having fun, so I'll just…" She starts to turn around when she hesitates.

Jude wraps his arms around my lower back and presses his cheek against the top of my head, his breathing slowly evening out as the seconds go by.

"So that's why…" she murmurs to herself, and then continues more loudly, "I was wondering why you both stopped having sex with me at around the same time. I was starting to think it was me," she smiles, "Oh well. Can't say I miss it," she adds, almost as an afterthought, before leaving the room. We listen until the door to the flat closes, letting us know that Prudence has left.

"Jude," I say, pushing myself up, "you were fucking Pru?"

"Yeah, what of it? You were too," he says defensively, and I smirk before unbuttoning his fly.

"Totally could've had a threesome, man," I say, my smirk growing into a grin as Jude eyes me, his face still flushed.

"Too bad," he murmurs, "guess you'll have to settle for just me."

"I guess," I whisper into his ear, moving to press kisses down his chest and stomach. I graze my teeth against Jude's hipbone as my fingers curl underneath the waistline of his jeans, grinning when I hear him moan, "Twist my arm, why don'cha?"

Review, please! Yes, we brought Lucy into the picture... dun dun dun...

Until next chapter. :-)