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Summary
The sound system’s been updated since the last time Mav took it like this—heavy and fast and desperate in a public bathroom, of all the cliches.
“You are not fucking me without lube,” Mav says, trying for steady but landing squarely in snotty.
“Yeah, yeah. I got you, princess,” Bradley says, smoothing a hand down Mav’s spine before rucking his shirt up. Sweat drips down his back, pooling in the dip of his back. He hears the snick of a plastic tube being opened and then cool, wet fingers sliding inside him. The implication burns white hot in Mav’s gut.
or, bradley's had maverick's number since day one.
