She doesn't have to keep holding onto him when they reach the privacy of the hotel but she does anyway.
He's steadying her so she doesn't trip in her heels in front of cameras or anyone who happens to be watching in public, her arm laced in his, his body not far to lean on if necessary. At this point it feels more like an excuse, she doesn't remember the last time she tripped, she doesn't get fucked up in the daytime and tends to choose more sensible footwear and still, she finds herself clinging to him and feeling strangely uneasy whenever he lets go.
She holds a little tighter so that he knows not to. Closes the gap between their sides as they walk so that she can feel his body.
"You good?" He asks in between conversation with her team walking in front of them, low enough that nobody hears but her. She nods and moves her hand so that she can hold onto his arm with her fingers but he shifts his arm entirely, his hand meeting hers, normal at first, extra safety but then he intertwines their fingers and she stops breathing for a few seconds, overwhelmed with intimacy she wouldn't have asked of him. She looks away.
He squeezes her hand as if he senses her apprehension but she feels unexpected tears forming. Nothing is really wrong but nothing is really right either, they've been on the road for a while and maybe she just feels lonely. Maybe this gesture from him, from the one thing that feels like home away from home to her, is just too much.
He slows down their steps so that the others are completely out of earshot. "Do you need some company tonight?"
She hesitates. It isn't that there would be anything wrong with that exactly but she senses that what he's offering wouldn't feel like enough, maybe having someone next to her that she can't touch, who can't hold her in her sleep when nightmares show up, when the starvation of comfort and familiarity on her skin takes over, maybe it would just make it worse that he's right there and still out of reach from those things.
"I could sit in your chair until you fall asleep. So you don't have to be alone."
"Max." She argues but he is so sincere and sweet and he's giving her one of those looks that she's used to whenever she tries to isolate, reminding her that that's what he's there for, to help wherever she needs it, and she decides that declining would be physically painful.
She changes her clothes in the bathroom and settles into her king size hotel bed, watching him try to get comfortable in the large armchair by the window from under her covers, pulling them up under her chin. He has changed to more comfortable clothes while she was gone and a fuzzy white blanket covers most of his grey sweatpants.
"I hate that you're sleeping in a chair." She states quietly and he smiles a little, she expects him to joke about it but he doesn't, he looks just as tired as she feels.
She's pretty sure that he'd sleep next to her if she asked him to but she doesn't want to take advantage of his devotion to her. She cares more about him than she ever expected to but who he is to her is more than she hired him to be as well. He feels like family. He's one of very few people she can think of who has never sold her out, and definitely the only person she would feel comfortable having in her room like this. Even without those things, he's so gentle and attentive that it's hard not to love him.
"It's okay, I'll sleep better in this than in my room. I'm lonely, too." He says, and even though they spend every day together, it's so unexpected for him to share his feelings with her that she is a little bit taken aback. It really never occurred to her to ask how he's doing being away from home and she feels a pang of guilt. The urge to hug him appears but she doesn't act on it, knowing it wouldn't feel appropriate.
Maybe inviting him into her bed would be showing her appreciation rather than taking advantage.
"I think the bed is big enough for both of us." She says shyly. "So your back won't kill you in the morning."
He laughs. "My back has handled worse."
She insists, though, and he keeps eye contact with her for longer than what's comfortable, making sure she's being sincere. His eyes are big and blue, intense and warm and she has looked into them many times but they've never made her heart speed up like this. The air in the room feels a little heavier as he nods and starts to get out of the chair. She doesn't want to look at him as he walks towards the bed, towards her, she holds her breath for some reason, bites her lip and when she does look at him, his head resting on the pillow next to her, close to her, it feels so intimate that she is immediately, acutely aware of the wall of professionalism that is suddenly missing. A wall she has never given much thought to before but she's also never thought about him in this context, never imagined that feeling the same heat from his body that has always comforted her, would make her nervous.
She lies frozen next to him, her head is spinning and when he shifts, she flinches.
"You okay?"
She nods. "I'm sorry."
"Let me help you relax." He whispers and she shivers with lightheadedness as soon as the soundwaves hit her, his voice is low and she feels it like goosebumps on her skin. She's confused and heated and dizzy, all she can do is look at him, look until he slowly reaches out for her, his fingertips reaching her exposed collarbone.
She's more rational than she's ever been and she is very aware that she has a tendency to ruin good things when she acts on impulse. She doesn't want to risk any damage to what they have, and while her body is more than ready for any attention he wants to give it, her mind is fighting. But she isn't the one acting, she is simply accepting, allowing him to take care of her.
He lingers there, tracing circles on her skin, up her neck with the back of his hand, down the valley between her breasts and it's so soothing and so torturous at once, he has always been able to ease her worries and in a way it is only natural for her to let him alleviate all of it, everything.
"Close your eyes."
She does as she's told, giving in to the gentle sensation of his fingertips traveling down her body, his breaths are shallow and hers begin to match as the space between them gets smaller and he pushes her underwear down over her hips.
"Max." His name comes out in a breath, like she needs reminding that it's him, so familiar and yet so strange, he has always been able to read her mind but this synchronicity, breathing together like this, it's a new level of connecting that she now feels like she's been cheated out of until now.
She can feel it building, her hips move against his fingers on instinct and she reaches between her legs for his wrist, holds onto it so he doesn't stop, so he doesn't change the pressure and she opens her eyes to find him right there, inches from her face, his lips slightly parted.
"Come for me." He whispers, locking her eyes on his and it is all it takes, words she's never heard in his accent send her over the edge, weak in his arms, blinded by him, every muscle tensing.
She stays like that, pressed up against him, even after she's caught her breath, her mind no longer racing and she puts her lips to his without thinking, just for a second, just to try, see if it feels right and it does, it feels like something she is supposed to do and it's so baffling that she has to laugh.
"What the fuck." She hides her face under the covers, squeezes her eyes shut, maybe this is a dream, maybe she isn't even awake, maybe he never left the chair. But there is no mistaking the figure next to her, there's no mistaking the hardness in the grey fabric and while she is too tired to return the favor, she knows she can't let this go now that she knows the extent of how he can take care of her.
