Max and Chad fan fiction!

The green room smelled like stale beer and unwashed hoodies.

Max was standing at the sink, pants around his ankles, taking a pre-show piss with the door half-open like the animal he was. Chad walked in without knocking, phone in hand, and froze.

Max’s thick, half-hard cock hung there, heavy and uncut, veins already starting to show from the morning wood he never quite shook off. Chad’s eyes locked on it.“Yummy,” Chad muttered, half under his breath.

Max turned his head, dick still dripping. “Are you fucking gay, mate?”

“Fuck you,” Chad shot back instantly, but he didn’t look away.

Max smirked, gave his cock a lazy shake, and tucked it away. “Save it for the afterparty, you thirsty cunt.”

The episode was called “Third World Alcohol Tier List.”

They’d already killed a bottle of something from a dusty corner of Cambodia that tasted like battery acid and regret, then moved on to Nigerian “ogogoro” that smelled like petrol and pure evil. By the time they finished the Bulgarian rakia that burned like Satan’s cum, both of them were absolutely fucking hammered.

The cameras cut. The crew cleared out. Chad was swaying, eyes glassy, shirt half-unbuttoned. Max grabbed him by the collar.“Bathroom. Now.”

They stumbled down the hall together, laughing like idiots, shoulders bumping. The second the bathroom door shut, Max shoved Chad against the sink, mouth crashing into his. Tongues sloppy from all the booze. Hands everywhere.

“Been thinking about that ‘yummy’ comment all fucking episode,” Max growled against Chad’s neck, biting down.

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Chad slurred, fumbling with Max’s belt.

Pants dropped. Max spun him around, bent him over the sink. Chad’s jeans were yanked down just enough. No prep, no lube except spit and pure drunken horniness. Max pushed in raw, thick cock stretching Chad open in one rough thrust.

“Fuuuuck,” Chad groaned, gripping the porcelain.

Max didn’t go slow. He fucked him hard, hips slapping loud in the tiny bathroom, grunting with every thrust. Chad’s cock was leaking against the sink cabinet, untouched.

In the corner, hidden behind the mop bucket and a stack of empty Grog boxes, Darcy sat on a overturned crate, pants around his ankles, furiously jerking his own dick. He’d been there the whole time, quiet as a ghost, eyes wide, stroking fast and silent while he watched his two bosses go at it.

Max’s pace got sloppy, brutal. He reached around, grabbed Chad’s cock and started pumping it in time with his thrusts.“Gonna fill you up, you little slut,” Max panted.

“Do it—fuck—do it—”Max slammed in deep and came with a loud, broken moan, pumping thick ropes straight into Chad’s ass. He stayed buried for a second, breathing hard, then slowly pulled out.

Chad’s hole stayed open for a moment, pink and wrecked. A thick glob of Max’s cum oozed out, creamy white and stringy, sliding down his taint.

Max looked down at the mess and laughed breathlessly.“That’s the yogurt effect, baby.”

Chad was still panting, cum dripping out of him, when Max slapped his ass once and zipped up.

From the corner, Darcy bit his lip hard to stay quiet, his own load shooting across his fist in thick spurts as he watched the cum leak out of Chad’s ruined hole.

Neither of them noticed a thing.