Chapter Text
“Maaax,” a voice sung, ever so lightly.
There was no response from the young man who was sleeping on the couch.
“Maaaaaax,” the other man smiles, a bit louder this time, followed by a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
This sparked up a response, the boy letting out a short, aggressive groan as he pulls the quilt over himself in a poor attempt at moving the unwanted hand away.
“I made breakfaaaast,” he smiles.
The boy stayed still for several moments before he peeked his head out from under the quilt that was wrapped around his body, “why?” he manages to get out, voice all groggy from sleep.
“Oooh…. Don’t be that way! C’mon. I made bacon and everythiiiing!” He sings, putting his hands together like some kind of poor excuse of an alter boy - heh.
Max sat up, his eyes squinting from the morning light that was starting to shine through the curtain. He looks over to the kitchen and takes a deep breath in to the aroma of what breakfast smells like to normal families. David, who was sitting at the edge of the couch to wake him up, places a hand on top of the boy’s head and musses his curls, which were already tangled from sleep. The man gets up and goes back over to the kitchen where he starts to prepare a dish for Max, it looked like.
“Why are you dressed?” The boy asks lightly, before rubbing his eyes.
“Oh - I’ve got work, silly.”
“Fuck. That’s right.”
“I’m so excited for all my new students. I have a feeling it’s going to be a VERY good year for sixth grade social studies!”
Max didn’t have to ask before the man spit out, “I’m the division lead this year! Gosh, I am just so excited!” He beams, bringing over two plates and a coffee mug in the crook of his arm. He hands one plate to Max - which was filled with more food than the boy could ever eat in one sitting - and then hands him the mug of black coffee. He keeps the second plate for himself as he sits down next to the boy, loosely crossing his unusually long legs as he does. He starts to work at a small pile of blueberries, Max working at his bacon.
They sat in silence for quite some time, completely comfortable with each other’s presence. They have been living together for nearly three months now, including their two together at camp. They’ve grown quite used to each other and their quirks, which probably aided Max in the move to David’s apartment in the first place. He liked the man. As annoyingly radiant, cheerful, and nitpicky as he was - he made Max feel at home. Safe. And maybe that’s just because they’ve known each other for over 10 years now (Max started going to camp at age 8). Or maybe it’s because there was no yelling in David’s home. No fights or neglect. A comfortable place to sleep with handmade quilts and pillows. Gentle wake up calls instead of yelling and slamming doors. Fuck, even breakfast made for him in the mornings. He felt safe. He’d also never tell David this in a million years. That would boost his ego so far up the man’s ass, he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week, simply because he was so overjoyed.
From the corner of Max’s still adjusting eyes, he could tell David was staring his way. He met his gaze, the man smiling, “it it any good?”
Max just nods lightly and adds, “yeah. Thanks.”
The joy filled into David’s whole body, which would normally just affect someone’s face, “I’m so glad to hear it,” he pauses a moment before adding, “you know, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up to all the ruckus. I was fairly loud this morning.”
He shrugs, “I’m a deep sleeper.” Of course he was - he had to be in a family where everyone yelled at one another from across the house.
“Oh - well I could tell you that one. Towards the end of the summer, it was near impossible to get you out of the bed in the morning,” he laughs, popping another few blueberries into his mouth like pills.
Max cracks a light smile as he picks up a pancake with his hands and starts to bite at it. David knew he liked his pancakes plain, so he didn’t bother coating them with anything - the thought of that made him more happy than the fact that he was a deep sleeper.
David starts to work at his own pancake - maple syrup, butter, and powdered sugar. He liked it sweet, just as he was. He looks out the window as he chews, taking a deep breath as he swallowed. He smiled, turning back to Max, “gosh. I’m so excited you’re here. And that I’m going to work again!”
Max rolled his eyes, despite a light smile forming, “David. I’ve been here. Almost, like, a month now.”
“Oh geez! A whole month already? I’m going to need to get you a little gift or something!”
Max raises an eyebrow, looking at him, “the fuck you getting me a gift for? Not like it’s a fucking anniversary or anything,” he grumbles, eyes falling back down to his plate.
“Well - it very much is to me,” he smiles, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve absolutely LOVED sharing a living space with you! You’re a delight to have around. And I know Smokey loves all the attention you give him during the day.”
Max decides to change the subject, “where is that fat fucking oaf?”
David smiles, “he’s probably still sleeping on my bed. You know how he is. Always cat naps with that one.”
“Oh my gooooood,” the boy groans in response, although he still smiled.
David laughed, before he checked his watch, “oh geez - I should probably get going. Don’t wanna be late on the first day back - that would be a total disaster!” He laughs, getting up and wandering back over to the kitchen. He cleans up his plate and all, before getting a few things from his room. He comes back out, his messenger bag slung over his shoulders, “hey, would you mind cleaning up breakfast, please?” God. The strap of his bag clung so tight to his chest, his dress shirt tugging juuuust right - Max averted his gaze, “yeah, sure.”
“Thanks, Max!” He smiles, “okay - I’ll see you after work. I should be home by at MOST 4 o’clock today.”
“Alright,” the boy responds, eyes still cast down.
“Okay,” he says, grabbing his keys from a bowl he kept at the bar by the door, “I’ll see you later!”
But just as David was about to leave, Max adds, “hey - send me your schedule n’ shit, will you? Like what time each class starts and when you got lunch or conference periods or whatever.”
“Oh! Sure thing, bud,” he smiles, “I’ll send that to you as soon as possible. Bye, Max!”
And like that, he was gone. The apartment got significantly quieter and less lively. Max stayed in the same spot as he picked at his breakfast, eyes falling closed again with exhaustion - he wasn't used to getting up this early.
He finished up what he could of the massive plate David prepared for him, placing it on a side table before lounging back. His eyes fell to the window on his right. He had one job today - clean up breakfast. He could do that. Easy. He's not as lazy as he comes across.
Definitely not.
Definitely…
Max jolts awake as Smokey starts to knead at the boy’s face - in the act of jolting up, Smokey practically goes flying across the room with a high pitched yowl of discomfort.
“Dude! The fuck!” Max yells in direction of the cat, who promptly ran into the safety of David’s room, “oh - come back here, you fucking coward! I didn't mean to hurl you across the room,” he says, despite not making an effort to actually get the feline. He sits there for several moments before looking over to the window - it was bright out. Had he fallen asleep? He checks his phone, the thing reading out “12:08”. Well fuck. Hopefully all the food David left out hasn't gone bad.
He throws the blanket to the side, shivering just a tad before he got up. He wasn’t used to his skin being exposed as it was right now - t-shirt and pj shorts instead of his usual hoodie and jeans.
He goes over to the kitchen and starts to clean up - everything was fine but the butter. It looked all hardened and gross. He decided to trash it.
Once he cleaned up completely, he checked his phone again: 12:44. He also had several texts from David. He hops up on the countertop to read through them:
Camp Man:
Hi, Max! Here's my schedule as per your request:
First period: 7:50-8:39
Second period: 8:44-9:32
Third period: 9:37-10:25
Fourth period: 10:30-11:18 (conference)
Lunch: 11:23-11:53
Fifth period: 11:58-12:46
Study Hall: 12:51-1:18
Sixth period: 1:23-2:12 (conference)
Seventh period: 2:17-3:05
How are you holding up? I bet it's weird being at the apartment all alone, haha!!
All my students are amazing. The 6th graders are so sweet. There's a foreign exchange student in my second period named Mateo and he's very spunky and sassy like you were at that age. (You still are!)
One of my students was talking about how her boyfriend cheated on her this summer!! What the gosh darn heck!!!! These kids are 11!!!! No one should be kissing!!!
Did you kiss anyone at 11?
Sorry! That was a very personal question. I just figured, you’re much closer in age to these kids than I am, so maybe you'd know a thing or two.
I didn't pack a lunch today, so I had to get a salad from the lunch line. There was a frog in my salad. I am no longer going to be purchasing food from the cafeteria, and the school board will be getting a very lengthy letter.
Max smiles, reading this all through. He types out several variations of the same message before concluding on one:
Max Khatri:
thanks for the schedule. im doing fine. slept in after breakfast and the butter went bad. sorry. ill pay for the replacement.
He waits a moment before deciding on another one:
Max Khatri:
i didn't kiss anyone but there was people i always wanted to make out with. didn't until i was 14 so those kids are wilding.
Max hops off the counter and saunters back over to the couch, where he plops down.
It was quiet.
The whole situation felt wrong - David wasn't there to nag at him or to vacuum or tell the same story over and over. Max looks around for something to do, another text came in.
Camp Man:
I told the frog story to my fifth period and some of the girls screamed in disgust. Should I have done that? Am I a bad person? I promptly apologized but everyone was laughing anyways. Let's hope I don't get any parent emails my first week of school.
Max chuckles to himself before writing out:
Max Khatri:
did you get anything to eat dude?
It's only seconds later when he gets the reply:
Camp Man:
No. Only water. I might stop by and pick up something on the way home if you'd like?
The boy pauses a moment, an idea forming in his head. He grins as he types out:
Max Khatri:
nah ill pick something up so you can eat as soon as you get home. sound good?
Camp Man:
Yes, that would be wonderful! You're the best!!! Ok, I have to go. My study hall kids are coming in. Anything you want for dinner is good with me!!! Hugs!!
Max rolls his eyes to how David signs his fucking texts off. Dumbass.
The boy popped up from the couch and back over to the kitchen where he started to search through the cabinets and fridge to see what they had. He definitely needed butter - duh. He made a mental list of the things he needed, reciting it in his head as he stripping from his clothes and into new ones. He shoves his dirty ones into the washing machine - David and him basically used it as a hamper. Once he's dressed, brushed his teeth, and attempted at fixing his curly locks, he takes his backpack and keys and heads out. As he comes down the old staircase, his dirtied Air Force Ones slap the cracking concrete with awful sloshes - it must have rained last night. He comes around the side of the building towards the parking lot and finds his motorcycle. He smiles to himself as he sees it - he loved it more than anything else in the whole wide world. He spent so much time saving up for this thing, and god was it worth it. He straddles the seat, tightens his backpack, and takes off down the slick road. The wind pushes his curls out of his face, as well as pushes through the fabric of his hoodie, making his chest and stomach cold. It didn't help that a cold front was coming in, signalling the change to autumn.
He pulls up to their local Walmart, parking his motorcycle to the side of a Smart Car near the front of the store. Even with the two in one spot, there was still plenty of room.
As he goes inside, he's greeted by a wave of cold air, sending a shiver down his spine. He grabs a cart and treks straight through the store towards the grocery section. He thinks to himself as he goes up and down the aisles - butter. Pick that up last. And creamer, since David was nearly out.
He had to think of a dish David would like - the man really liked homebody foods like stews and casseroles. But no meat. David, of course, was a vegetarian.
Max picked out all the things he needed, running over the list in his head. Onions, potatoes, garam masala, paprika, and peas. They had the rest at the apartment. Maybe he could add paneer in there too? He thought it over before finally deciding on just getting it. He takes his cart and heads out - and of course, he didn’t forget the butter and creamer.
As he strolled the cart back to the front of the store, he passed a rather fine looking leather jacket in the menswear that caught his eye. He hesitates a moment, looking it over.
No. He could never wear that. Realistically, he doesn't wear anything but his hoodies. He's owned other, more fashionable items of clothing, but he would always just end up wearing his same hoodie and jeans.
He checked out at the self-checkout, as he didn't want to interact with any nosy old women asking him what his girlfriend was cooking for them, and laughing about how she must have sent him on the trek. Cunts.
He took the bags, shoving it all in the compartments on his bike, before taking off again. The wind whipped his hair, and cut through his hoodie. He really needed better protection on his torso - it was only going to get colder and colder up here.
He gets back to the apartment, checking his phone after he puts all the things on the countertop. One text from David:
Camp Man:
Hey! Sorry to bother you again. But if you're out, would you mind picking me up some creamer? I’m running low!
Max smiled - he felt his cheeks heat up just a tad - with that, he practically threw his phone across the room, the thing landing safely on the couch.
He rolled his sleeves up, “Alexa.”
She hums a response.
“Shuffle songs by Watsky.”
“Sure. Shuffling songs by Watsky on Spotify.”
One tape in the deck
One way to connect (all I need is one)
One moment alone
One reason to roam
One place I call home (all I need is one)
One tick on the clock
One trick up my sleeve
One thing to believe (all I need is one)
One person to love
One verse and one prayer
For one person who cares (all I need is one)
“Maaax!” A voice sings, “I’m hooome!”
The boy peeks his head out of the kitchen, while David raises a brow, staying in place, “did… You cook something..? It smells awfully amazing in here.”
“Yeah. Check it,” the boy says, showing him a plate of food over the bar. One side of the dish was rice, the other a stew looking food. Max explains, “it's an Indian dish my mom used to make sometimes for special occasions. I’ve been craving it lately sooooo. I whipped it up.”
Max swears he saw tears forming in David’s eyes, “oh my god - Max!” he grins. David immediately puts his bag down to the side, sitting up at the bar, “it smells amazing. I'll be honest - I haven't tried many traditional Indian dishes. Other than Tikka Masala,” he states, accepting the plate Max handed him through the kitchen window over the bar.
“Yeah. Most white people don't. This is called Aloo Matar. It's pretty good. No meat.”
David takes a bite - he pauses a moment, Max himself holding his breath to see the man’s reaction. After a beat, the man’s whole body melted, letting out a satisfied moan that sent waves down Max’s body. He grinned.
“This is so good. You never told me you could cook!”
He shrugs, “I can't. I only know, like, three fucking recipes from the times my mom would have me help make dinner for parties n shit.”
“Well it certainly paid off! Gosh!” he happily starts to scarf it down, Max serving up his own plate and sitting next to him, “glad you like it. Had to go to the store. I picked up your creamer. And some more butter since the other one fucking fossilized,” he states, popping the fork into his mouth. Fuck, he missed good food.
“Thank you! I’ll pay you back.”
“Nah. Don't worry about it. It's the least my lazy ass could do.”
David laughs, “well you don't seem lazy to me. You cooked dinner - and it looked like you cleaned up the apartment too…?” He almost asks, making sure.
“Oh - yeah. I cleaned the stuff that was in the washing machine and put that shit away. I cleaned up the kitchen and I cleaned up all my fucking garbage in the living room. I vacuumed too. Took Smokey's litter out. Random useless shit.”
“Gosh! And I didn't even have to ask. Guess a day without me bossing you around was good for you,” he grins, rustling up Max’s curls. The boy just rolls his eyes, “god. Shut up and eat the damn food before it gets cold.”
David smiles, letting out a very light, “okay, Max,” returning his attention back to the plate in front of him. He was already nearly done, but Max decided to not say anything.
Once they were done, David absolutely insisted on cleaning up the kitchen, telling Max to go relax. The boy just rolled his eyes and wandered to go take a shower, taking the excuse to do less work.
Max turned on the shower head, the thing spitting to life after a few seconds delay. As it heated up, Max grabbed a clean set of clothes from his duffle bag (David had offered to make room in his own dresser for Max’s things, but the boy refused. He didn't want to get too comfortable here.) and wandered back to the bathroom, bringing his phone in with him. He didn't take David as the snooping type, but he didn't want to take any chances.
He locks the door behind him, and strips himself of his clothes. Fuck. Had he gained weight? He bit his lip as he peered at himself through the mirror. He had a bit of a belly going - David had been feeding him far too much and far too good. He sighs, taking himself in before the mirror fogged up from the immense heat of the shower. He stepped in, immediately started to lather himself in. He didn’t get the point of long showers. They were a waste of time and money. He did, however, really enjoy hot showers. As he lathered himself up, he watched the suds slide down his body and get sucked down into the drain. He took a deep breath in. And then out. He felt the water sting his back, closing his eyes at the immense heat. It felt fucking amazing - relaxing and comfortable.
After his shower, he dried off his hair and changed into a pair of sweatpants and his hoodie, barely taking the effort to even dry his curls off. David was sitting on the couch, still in his work clothes as he did. He had his laptop out, mostly looking like he was browsing as he wasn’t doing much typing. Max plops down next to him, and peers over the man’s shoulder to his screen: some tacky looking quilting site with awful graphic design choices.
David looks over at Max and smiles, “I need more materials to make another quilt. You seem to like the ones on the couch here so much,” he nods to the blankets shoved up behind them, which David hadn't gotten around to folding yet like he always does after Max rolls out of bed.
“Dude. You made those? How fucking old are you, grandma?”
He grins, “well, my grandmother did teach me.”
“What the fuck.”
“Yup! Every few years, my folks would host these big family Christmases,” he starts, looking back to the screen as he scrolls through some fabric website, “she made us all these cute personalized quilts and - gosh! I totally fell in love!”
“Okay, okay. Tone it the fuck down, Old Woman Meredith. How come you never told me you were the tired old hag behind these raggedy old things?”
David’s ears get red, smiling almost embarrassingly, “well. You never told me you knew how to cook. So I guess we’re even now!”
Max furrows his brows despite a slight smile on his face, before slumping back in the sofa and grabbing the TV remote. He turns the thing on with a single click, attempting to draw his attention away from the man sitting only a foot away, browsing fabrics and threads, that somehow seemed to leave him so enthralled.