Post by Maddox Kane on Apr 21, 2022 22:54:32 GMT
Heat flushed across Max’s cheeks as Alex lowered his lips to his ear as he spoke in hushed tones. The tension bled from his shoulders as he glanced at the strange faces with a new set of eyes, letting the weight of Alex’s words alter how he saw these people. Jealous of him? Not likely. Doubtful. Outright was not even an option, but Alex said so and Alex’s word had become law to Max. So he didn’t question it. Besides, it was Alex’s suit he was wearing. It was Alex’s suit that made him look good. His lips parted in a small circle, an ‘oh’ falling from them as he turned to look up at him, realizing what he said and not just blindly listening as his anxiety overwhelmed his senses. Alex thought he looked good. He blushed deeper, eyes cutting down to his feet as he tried to not overthink what that meant. They were in such a strange limbo, and it didn’t help that Max didn’t know how to be in a relationship in the first place. His step-father had stolen his concept of love and twisted it into something dark and nasty and sinister. He’d been so afraid of men, of people, that he hadn’t had a proper partner until he was deep in Kansas and far away from Chris. He forgot her name–purposefully omitting the knowledge from his memory after the way he’d left her. She had been a bout of sunshine on his rainy day, his co-worker in a small diner. She was the first girl he’d ever been with, the first person he consented to touch him. She was sweet and flowery and would let him sleep in her bed when she’d learned he was living out of his car. She was everything he wished he’d known. And then he’d seen a flash of a man–blonde hair, square jaw, haunted eyes–and he’d run. He hadn’t even collected his last paycheck, booking it out of the state and never looking back. Surely it hadn’t been Chris. It wasn’t likely that the man would have followed him all these years, across so many state lines, but Max was too terrified to even consider it was someone else. Beacon Hills had been an accident. He didn’t like small towns because there were fewer people and more chances of being noticed, but he’d run out of gas and didn’t have any other options but to settle in and start working until he saved up enough to flee again.
Only now he didn’t want to. He didn’t know how it happened, but some higher being finally took mercy on him. He’d all but fallen into Alex’s arms, the perfect fit to what the other needed. Max knew how to handle babies and Alex knew how to handle flighty people. He was petrified of messing up and it was bound to happen, it was his specialty after all. And yet, every time he stumbled, Alex was there to pick him up with a kind smile and helping hand. He never belittled him, never made him feel as though he was a burden. When he had locked himself in the motel room and refused to answer the phone after Charlie was found dead, Alex had come knocking on his door and spent the evening holding him close and promising he wasn’t the beacon of death he thought he was. He’d been shocked, having not told the man where he was staying out of embarrassment and Alex had bashfully explained that he had turned the man’s location on his phone because he’d been worried about him–and then chastised him for not having a passcode on his phone. Alex had taken it and made it his birthday. Max found no reason to change it. From then on, he’d persuade Max to stay the night with him, saying it was to help him with Ellie and at first he believed him being the naive being he was, but Natalia put his head on straight when she’d bluntly put it into perspective. Alex cared for him. He didn’t know what that meant truly, but he trusted it to be true. Whatever their relationship was, Max cherished it, and being here tonight, no matter how anxiety-inducing, was the least he could do.
“I think her dad is pretty great,” Max said after a moment of hesitation, but as quiet as his voice was, it was unwavering. He didn’t like that Alex belittled himself like that, for he was more than just an alcoholic. He was doing much better. Max hadn’t so much as seen him drink, though he had gotten a few drunk messages. He’d always called and checked with Rose (Natalia scared him, he would rather die than risk calling her so late at night) and made sure Ellie was okay and that Alex was safe. He didn’t want to outright call Alex himself and express that concern, didn’t want to make the wrong move and make things worse. He knew drunks. He was terrified of drunks.
Max was fine carrying the drinks, though he had been hoping Elena would fuss some so Alex would deposit her in his arms as he was known to do. He was a baby whisper, only calm when he had either little Ellie in his arms or Alex at his side. Alex was always happy to hand his daughter over to Max to calm down while he hovered and made sure they were safe. But as long as his hands were busy, he would be fine. Besides, having Ellie would probably be a magnet for attention once the women in the room started drinking and he’d rather not have strangers invading his space to fawn over the baby girl.
As they stopped at the bar, Max was dumbfounded by Alex’s order. He’d been prepared to rely on Natalia all night to keep her brother in line because he wouldn’t have known how to handle a tipsy Alex with the flimsy borders they have on their relationship they have now. He floundered briefly but turned to murmur his order to the bartender. “Just a coke for me as well, please,” his voice was soft, eyes thankful as they batted at Alex's. He hadn’t wanted to drink, had never really done so, but he would have to make Alex feel comfortable. He let out a long exhale, not realizing how tense he’d been with that decision. He took the cups from the man, regretfully letting go of Alex’s hand and balancing them precariously as he took a step back from the table. As he did so, he noticed a group of people approaching. He went on edge before realizing who all it was. He quite liked Sam and Evans, but he was careful to avoid eye contact with Natalia–as if he was afraid she’d attack if he looked too long. He thought he heard that somewhere once, maybe it was just rabid dogs one shouldn’t have a staring contest with. Close enough, he thought. She scared him regardless.
“Hey guys,” he said shyly, smiling at them (briefly at Natalia, limited eye contact) before his eyes fell upon someone new at Evans’ side. He held out Alex’s drink for him to take a drink from, trying to hold the straw steady for him as he inched closer to his side where he felt safest. He took a sip of his own soda to keep himself busy while the others made small talk–feeling incredibly out of place under the curious weight of the stranger’s gaze.
Only now he didn’t want to. He didn’t know how it happened, but some higher being finally took mercy on him. He’d all but fallen into Alex’s arms, the perfect fit to what the other needed. Max knew how to handle babies and Alex knew how to handle flighty people. He was petrified of messing up and it was bound to happen, it was his specialty after all. And yet, every time he stumbled, Alex was there to pick him up with a kind smile and helping hand. He never belittled him, never made him feel as though he was a burden. When he had locked himself in the motel room and refused to answer the phone after Charlie was found dead, Alex had come knocking on his door and spent the evening holding him close and promising he wasn’t the beacon of death he thought he was. He’d been shocked, having not told the man where he was staying out of embarrassment and Alex had bashfully explained that he had turned the man’s location on his phone because he’d been worried about him–and then chastised him for not having a passcode on his phone. Alex had taken it and made it his birthday. Max found no reason to change it. From then on, he’d persuade Max to stay the night with him, saying it was to help him with Ellie and at first he believed him being the naive being he was, but Natalia put his head on straight when she’d bluntly put it into perspective. Alex cared for him. He didn’t know what that meant truly, but he trusted it to be true. Whatever their relationship was, Max cherished it, and being here tonight, no matter how anxiety-inducing, was the least he could do.
“I think her dad is pretty great,” Max said after a moment of hesitation, but as quiet as his voice was, it was unwavering. He didn’t like that Alex belittled himself like that, for he was more than just an alcoholic. He was doing much better. Max hadn’t so much as seen him drink, though he had gotten a few drunk messages. He’d always called and checked with Rose (Natalia scared him, he would rather die than risk calling her so late at night) and made sure Ellie was okay and that Alex was safe. He didn’t want to outright call Alex himself and express that concern, didn’t want to make the wrong move and make things worse. He knew drunks. He was terrified of drunks.
Max was fine carrying the drinks, though he had been hoping Elena would fuss some so Alex would deposit her in his arms as he was known to do. He was a baby whisper, only calm when he had either little Ellie in his arms or Alex at his side. Alex was always happy to hand his daughter over to Max to calm down while he hovered and made sure they were safe. But as long as his hands were busy, he would be fine. Besides, having Ellie would probably be a magnet for attention once the women in the room started drinking and he’d rather not have strangers invading his space to fawn over the baby girl.
As they stopped at the bar, Max was dumbfounded by Alex’s order. He’d been prepared to rely on Natalia all night to keep her brother in line because he wouldn’t have known how to handle a tipsy Alex with the flimsy borders they have on their relationship they have now. He floundered briefly but turned to murmur his order to the bartender. “Just a coke for me as well, please,” his voice was soft, eyes thankful as they batted at Alex's. He hadn’t wanted to drink, had never really done so, but he would have to make Alex feel comfortable. He let out a long exhale, not realizing how tense he’d been with that decision. He took the cups from the man, regretfully letting go of Alex’s hand and balancing them precariously as he took a step back from the table. As he did so, he noticed a group of people approaching. He went on edge before realizing who all it was. He quite liked Sam and Evans, but he was careful to avoid eye contact with Natalia–as if he was afraid she’d attack if he looked too long. He thought he heard that somewhere once, maybe it was just rabid dogs one shouldn’t have a staring contest with. Close enough, he thought. She scared him regardless.
“Hey guys,” he said shyly, smiling at them (briefly at Natalia, limited eye contact) before his eyes fell upon someone new at Evans’ side. He held out Alex’s drink for him to take a drink from, trying to hold the straw steady for him as he inched closer to his side where he felt safest. He took a sip of his own soda to keep himself busy while the others made small talk–feeling incredibly out of place under the curious weight of the stranger’s gaze.