I haven't written a Max/Jude in a while…
Got this idea from my sister, actually. Well, by that I mean, she and her girlfriend wear each other's clothes all the time. So, I thought it'd be cute to make it into a Max/Jude fic.
This isn't straight-up Max/Jude. Lucy and Jude are still a couple, and Jude and Max are friends, but there's definitely some…you know…sexual tension xD.
Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Across the Universe or these two lovely, lovely boys.
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Jude sighed with content as he sunk into the creaky couch cushions. Folding his legs underneath him, his charcoal-darkened fingers flipped through the pages of the sketchbook until he came to a crisp, fresh page. Looking around the empty apartment, he smiled lightly.
Things had been insane around the apartment lately. People were constantly moving in and out, literally. Sadie had lost two tenants two days ago and gained about five more yesterday. Lucy had found another protest group, OnlyPeace, to busy herself with. When she first informed him of this, Jude felt some hesitation. However, now that Max was home, her passion on the situation had subdued a little. Max, though still shaken from the war, had somewhat fallen into his previous ways, hooking up with a girl by day and banging her by night. At the very least, the Englishman thought, it gave him something pretty for his mind to focus on rather than the scarring images of Vietnam.
For the first time in days, the apartment was completely empty. Sadie and JoJo were out talking with producers, Prudence was God knows where, Lucy was filling in a shift at the OnlyPeace headquarters, Max was working, and the rest of the tenants had gone out for the day. The only noise was the patter of the rain against the metal fire escape, not enough of a bother to perturb Jude. Finally, he would have the peace and quiet he needed to draw.
His fingers, gripping the charcoal, flew across the page. He wasn't quite sure what he was sketching yet, but he had been blessed with the gift of being able to just start drawing lines and curves and eventually turn it into a great piece of art.
Unfortunately, just as his mind was starting to focus and a vivid image of his sketch blazed in his mind, there was a sharp, urgent knock at the door. The brunette groaned, his head tipping back in defeat, and reluctantly set down his sketchbook.
"This bloody well be important," he muttered through clenched teeth as he got up from the couch and shuffled over to the door. Whoever was at the door knocked again, adding an impatient "Open the goddamn door!" with it. That was enough for Jude to conclude that it was none other than his best mate, and he couldn't help but wonder why Max couldn't open the door to his own apartment.
When he did open the door, he couldn't but smirk a little. His American friend was drenched from head to toe, the rain drops running off his leather jacket, corduroy cap, and jeans forming a small puddle at his feet. Although his thin form was trembling lightly and he had an aggravated look on his face, he was alright.
"Why the hell was the door locked?" he asked.
Jude shrugged. "I didn't lock it; one of the others must have before they left. But I think the real question here, my friend, is why don't you have a key?"
"I would like to think you would have the decency to open the door for your best friend."
"I do," the brunette continued, leaning against the doorframe. "However, did it ever occur to you that I might have been doing something important? I was hoping that you had the capability of opening the door without my assistance."
The blonde paused, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. The smirk grew on Jude's face.
"Let me guess. You lost your key again?"
"Okay, yes, I lost it again."
"Even after you promised a very angry Sadie that you'd never, never lose it again?"
"Oh…shut up," he mumbled, not able to come up with a good comeback. Jude crossed his arms and smiled victoriously.
"Okay, you got your moment of freakin' glory, now would you let me in? I'm freezing my ass off."
"Gladly." The Englishman moved aside, allowing the dripping Max into the apartment. He closed the door behind them and followed his friend into the living room. Max took off his hat, tossed it off towards the coat rack, and shook out his wet hair, sending water droplets everywhere. A few landed on Jude's sketchbook.
"Do you mind? Though you may act like one sometimes, you are not a dog," he scolded with annoyance.
"Hey…" Max looked at him and scowled. "If you would've been out there, you wouldn't be complaining about your precious drawings."
"How'd you get so soaked anyway?"
"Fucking taxi broke down," he replied, shaking his head. "Apparently a mile from the taxi company was too close to get it towed, so I had to push the thing all the way there… a mile ain't as short a distance as you'd think, buddy…" he noted when he saw Jude smirk. "And of course once it was back at the taxi company, I had to walk home."
"Well, I apologize for your dreadful experience, but I'd appreciate you not shedding water all over my sketchbook."
"Can't help it, man. Everything I'm wearing is drenched."
"…take it off then," Jude said, not understanding how his friend found this such a complicated issue. Max's familiar, lopsided grin twitched at his lips.
"Oh, I get it. This is just an excuse to see me strip. I see how it is."
"Right. Of course. That's the reason."
Despite the Englishman's sarcasm, the American shed himself of his jacket as slowly and delicately as possible, twisting and turning his hips a little as he did so. He threw it off to the side with flourish, causing Jude to roll his eyes. Just as Max was starting to seductively rid himself of his jeans, Jude noticed the shirt he was wearing and scowled a little. The blonde stopped for a moment.
"What?"
"That's my shirt."
"Mm?"
"That's…" Jude pointed to his friend's chest. "my shirt!"
Max looked down, examined the shirt, an old black t-shirt with a few, bright red paint stains here and there, and shrugged. "And?"
"…that's my shirt, yeh bugger!"
"Petty insults aren't explaining your point any further, Judey."
"I've been…looking for that shirt for ages. I tore my bloody room apart looking for that thing."
"Damn…you like this shirt, don't you?"
"Yes, I happen to like that shirt very much, thank you. So when you take it off, don't throw it into your toxic waste pile of dirty laundry."
Max feigned offense, putting his hands on his bony hips. "Well, just for that, I refuse to give it to you until I feel like it. I happen to like this shirt, also. It's your own fault for leaving it lying around for some helpless, shirtless soul-"
"Otherwise known as you," Jude mumbled.
"Yes, for me to find."
The American turned prissily on his heel and headed towards his bedroom. However, Jude wasn't going to give up that easily. He followed him, coming up to him from behind and pinched the small amount of skin at Max's waist. The blonde yelped, jumping about a foot in the air and grabbing the sides of his waist. Jude chuckled wickedly.
"Ticklish, are we?"
"Jude Feeney, I swear on my mother's freakin' grave, you pinch me again-"
The brunette gave him a jab in the ribs, causing him to double over. This gave Jude a complete advantage as he began to tickle Max in any place he could possible. Turns out Max was very ticklish.
"Judey…" he begged, attempting to shield himself with his hands and failing miserably. "Stop!..."
Finally, he got into a position that allowed Jude to grasp the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, even through Max's writhing form. Once he had it off, the Englishman pumped the fist with the shirt in the air victoriously.
But of course, this was Max he was up against, and Max would never go down without a fight. Tucking his head and reaching his arms out like a star defensive football player, he tackled Jude to the ground. After a lot of wrestling around, the brunette heaved a sigh of defeat through his laughter.
"Alright, alright, you win. Have the goddamn shirt."
The American smiled and rested his head on his friend's chest, clutching the shirt to him for warmth.
"You can't care about a shirt that much and then give up so easy…this really was just an excuse to see me strip."
"You keep telling yourself that, mate."
"Mm, don't think I don't know I'm irresistible…the one you can't get your mind off of…the one you picture when you jack off…only wishing it was really my dick you were pulling-"
"Jesus, Max…you're getting a little ahead of yourself, there."
"Whatever you say…" he trailed off in a sing-song voice. Max snuggled deeper into Jude's chest, sighing a little as he dozed off. The Englishman watched him for a moment, never seeing his friend this still before. Before the war, he was just a ball of manic energy and pulled all-nighters frequently. Now, he pulled all-nighters for a completely different reason, and it killed him when he would find Max sitting exactly where he left him the night before.
"Man…" the American had said not long ago, "if I have to stay up all night and be dead tired the next day so I don't have to deal with that…shit, so be it."
So, as his chest steadily rose and fell, his features, for once, not scrunched in pain and agony and his eyes remaining still behind his eyelids, Jude had never felt so relieved.
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Jude woke in his bed. He had no idea how or when he got here, but he would have to remind himself to thank whoever moved him off the uncomfortable floor. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, stretching out his arms and scratching the back of his neck. As he looked around his room, he found Lucy sitting on the windowsill, a cup of coffee in her hands and smiling at him warmly.
"Good morning," she said sweetly. Jude had come to notice that every time she talked, the mood always lightened. She just had that way about her that he couldn't really describe, but whatever it was, it put him at peace.
"Morning," he replied. "Didn't expect to see you at all…"
"I've got the day off at work, and I'm going down to OnlyPeace later this afternoon-"
"Later this afternoon? What time is it?"
She smirked. "12:30. I figured you would've woken up when Jo and I dragged you to bed, but you were out cold. So was Max."
"Mm."
"If you want anything from Katz's, I'd suggest getting your cute little butt out of bed…Clara's leaving right now."
Jude sat up and stretched his limbs, shaking his tousled hair out of his face. "Nah, that's alright. But I'll get up anyway."
"Good."
He pulled back the thin covers and stood up, walking over to his girlfriend. She stood up, also, and when she did, he smiled and wrapped and arm around her waist, kissing the top of her head. He released her for a moment, going over to his dresser to pull out a t-shirt. As he slipped it over his head, he squirmed uncomfortably in it. It felt awfully tight; perhaps he ought to stop eating those delicious brownies that Prudence made a few days ago. He shrugged; it would do for now. The two of them shuffled out of the bedroom into the living room, or the "whatever" room, as Sadie dubbed it.
JoJo, who sat perched on the armrest of the couch, strumming away on his guitar, nodded in greeting to the couple.
"You owe me for dragging you and your scrawny ass friend to bed last night," he mumbled, a smile playing at his lips.
The artist thought for moment. "New guitar strings?"
Jo played the last, few airy chords of the song he was playing and shifted his guitar into his right hand, standing up. "I'm just playin' with you, boy. But if you feel the need to be generous, be my guest."
"Will do…and speaking of my scrawny ass friend…"
Max, wrapped up in his fluffy, blue bathrobe, entered the room from the kitchen, a coffee mug in his hand. He pointed accusingly at his best friend.
"Hey, I don't appreciate all the skinny jabs. I'm lean, not scrawny. There are women all over the world who throwing up their insides to look like me."
"Whatever you say, mate."
The blonde quizzically at the shirt Jude was wearing.
"I welcome your attempts to show off your impeccable body, Judey, but isn't that shirt awfully tight? I mean, where'd you-"
He stopped mid-sentence and stared closely. Suddenly, his eyes sparkled in recognition and a smirk began to grow on his face. Jude looked down at the shirt. It then dawned on him that, despite the plethora of shirts he owned, he didn't recognize this one. And yes, this shirt was too close-fitting, an aspect that was against his nature. He often wore shirts that were too big for him. He finally realized that somehow, one of Max's shirts had drifted into his bedroom and that was what he pulled out of his drawer.
Jude looked up and a smile came to his lips. Lucy looked bemusedly between the two.
"What?" she asked, clearly confused.
The two boys exchanged glances. Max chuckled a little, shaking his head.
"Nothing, Luce. Nothing at all."
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Hoped you liked my latest bout of Max/Jude. I've missed writing it.
Yeah, I know it's not strictly Max/Jude, but it's almost cuter to write them as friends with a lot of sexual tension than a couple.
Reviews would be lovely.