Fang's Fantasy by DZAuthor AKA DZMom

Category:Maximum Ride
Characters:Fang, Max
Published:2008-12-07 01:37:47
Updated:2008-12-07 01:37:47
Packaged:2021-05-12 13:24:51
Summary:HALF SHOT What Max and Fang might experience if he wasn't such a strong and silent type. Includes Max's thoughts on the progression of a physical relationship. This didn't fit in the story Unheeded Warning but it does flow out of that storyline.

Fang's Fantasy

"Remind me how your arms got so strong," Max said, straining with a broken rib.

Fang came up from behind and placed his hand over the button of her jeans. "I've apologized a hundred times." He nibbled at her ear.

Max pulled away. "But when did you go from strong Fang to super Fang?"

Fang pulled her back by a belt loop. "I guess it happened when I decided to rescue you." He began to kiss her neck and the back of her shoulders.

Max began to move away.

"Can't my lips have a little bit more time with your neck?" he asked her ear.

"You're embarrassing me."

Fang laughed onto the top of her shoulder. "There's no one here but us."

Max shifted her weight to her other foot. Fang's smooches up and down her neck were beginning to cause her wings to fluff out a bit, she had to admit.

Fang had noticed this as well.

But what really surprised Max was how some things seemed permanent already. For instance, the friendship between her torso and Fang's hands wasn't even 24-hours-old yet, but they acted like they were life long friends. The unmistakable barrier that had been there three days ago was gone now. It made her want to check her tank top to see if a big "welcome" sign was branded across her boobs. What she had of them, at least.

Her thoughts began to be less and less cohert. Soon there was no need for her thoughts since a marathon make-out session was just beginning.


Sleeping next to Fang was nice, Max had to admit. When they returned to the Flock, it would not be possible to have so much time alone with him. Despite the luxury of the moment, she craved for normalcy to return. And normalcy was being on the run. It was having no time for serious discussions, no time for "working on a relationship", no time for considering the consequences of her actions.

If her ribs hadn't broken when Fang responded to her conciliatory kiss, well, they would be outta this too-cozy forest station.

Fang seemed to sense her moodiness. He actually let her sleep during their nap, rather than setting off explosions of hormones in rated "R" regions of her body. How his lips on her ears could affect her down there was still a mystery to her.

Fang rolled over. "Hi."

Did he really have to be so charming? Max was drawn magnetically to his lips.

He tucked his hand under her wing and said, "Let's go picking berries before it gets dark."

This was new. Max was game. Anything to get out of the confining walls of the station.

Fang was developing interest in the edible plant book. So Max tagged along, flying whereever he headed, in their pursuit of yum.

Finally they spotted a briar of berries. A few black bears were feasting in the middle so they headed to the northwest section. It happened to be right next to a spring and a soft grassy spot that looked perfect for sitting on.

They picked blackberries and dropped them into a basket Fang had found. It was probably the most fun they'd had, since skinny dipping. And since Max was in an altered state during that, this definitely trumped it.

Max let cold spring water filter through the berries and drip out of the basket. While Fang was sitting down, she swung the dripping basket over his head and gave him a cold refresher. Fang loved that kind of play and Max knew it. The best part of having a romantic relationship with someone you've always known is that you pretty much know all the trivial stuff about them. It lets you focus on the tougher stuff.

Fang captured Max's legs and she lost her balance, tipping backward. Her wings steadied her as she settled cross-legged in front of Fang.

Remembering the way Fang had lovingly fed her when she was dehydrated, Max lifted blackberries one by one between his lips. It seemed oddly erotic. This whole connection between mouth and hands and the underlying symbolism of parenthood worked a calm throughout Max.

"My turn," Fang eventually said, taking the half-empty basket from Max.

"You don't have to feed me," Max protested.

"I don't? Ok, great." He smirked at Max and shoved a handful into his mouth. "Are you sure? 'Cause these are really good." The juice in the corners of his mouth made Max lick her lips. "That's what I thought," he said, popping one in her mouth.

"Here, lean against me. Make yourself comfortable." Max leaned against his chest while he dipped the blackberries into Max's mouth one at a time.