Seven

Into the thick of it

Max handed the script to Preston, having spending the last three days on it. Yes, it was supposed to be a small skit, at most 30 minutes, but he wanted to make sure that it captured everything in those thirty minutes.

Preston's eyebrows furrowed as he read through it, putting a spoonful of yogurt parfait into his mouth. "Are you sure about this?"

Max nodded. "Yeah. Besides, do we really have the time to think of another idea?"

Preston nodded, handing the papers back to him. "Where should we start?"

--

They had started working on backgrounds, simple painted cardboard cut-outs. The project was focused more on the writing, after all. But how they presented it was important as well. And Preston knew that Max wanted it to be as perfect as possible.

Preston sighed as he finished up on another set piece. He placed down his paintbrush, looking at Max, who was hard at work.

Max was something else. The look of concentration on his face, with his eyebrows furrowed, and his tongue poking out of his mouth, the fluff that his beanie only hid a small portion of, the curve of his back, the skin poking out of his cropped jacket... Preston felt like had too much and not enough of the other boy.

Preston tore his gaze away from his boyfriend and tried to focus once more at the task at hand. They only had a week and a half to finish this project. If it was incomplete by the time it was due, not only would they get a bad grade, but Max would be devastated.

--

Max focused on painting the background, ignoring the sleep tugging at his eyelids. He knew Preston would go back to the dorm soon, it was after nine and Preston still cared about keeping up with his more-or-less usual sleep schedule. He usually said he'd stay and work for a while longer, then end up working till dawn. At this point he was just running on coffee and sheer determination.

He wiped the paintbrush on his thigh, smearing the paint on both denim and skin. He turned his head at the sound of Preston standing up. He watched as his boyfriend wiped the dirt off of his pants, then picked up the paintbrushes he had used as well as the dirty water.

Max let his gaze drop as he stared at the final setting piece. Almost done. He reached for the brush, before it was snatched away from him. "Preston-" He said, starting to get irritated.

"Darling, you've been working non-stop the last three days. You have to give it a rest or you won't make it to the end," He put down the brushes and paints before turning back around to gently kiss Max's forehead. "Besides, the bed is really empty without you."

--

Preston happily bounced back to the dorm, a tired and begrudging Max attached to his elbow. Practically no one was on campus, with the exception of a few other late-nighters, and a couple of security guards. Preston turned the corner, only to be faced with another boy. Max gasped, huddling closer to him.

"Finally, God, Max, it's about fucking time you got here," He looked Preston up and down with a disgusted look. "Who's this twink?"

Preston stepped back a little in offence. "Excuse me, this 'twink' can hear you." The other boy scoffed. "I am Preston, now tell me, who the hell you and what the fuck you're doing outside our dorm?"

The other guy ignored him, instead turning his attention towards Max. "Max, this is who the hell you hang out with? Fucking slut and his twink."

Preston eyesight literally started to turn red at that word. Slut. Preston knew that it wasn't that big a deal to Max, but to him? No one fucking slutshamed his boyfriend. No one

He stepped closer to the other, getting close enough to his face to smell his breath, which was rancid, a surprise compared to his flawless appearance.

"Listen here, you son of a bitch. You have no right to come here, or to call me or my boyfriend names. I'm giving you five goddamn seconds you get your rancid ass outta here before I call security." He warned through gritted teeth.

What's-his-name looked over his shoulder to glare at Max. "Boyfriend? Damn, you're more pathetic than I thought, whore."

"Five," Preston warned.

"Aw, what're you gonna do? Tattletale on me? Pathetic." He laughed.

"Four," Preston barked out.

"Get out of my way," He growled, pushing Preston out of the way, only to have his hand latch onto his wrist.

"Three,"

He tugged Preston off of him, turning to Max, who curled into himself.

"Two,"

He placed a hand on Max's hip-

"One,"

He was whirled around, eyes wide as a punch landed itself onto his nose, a sickening crack being heard.

"Fuck, you broke my nose you bitch!" He got up off the floor, rearing a punch back, before he was restrained.

Preston and the guy's eyes widened as they looked at the security guard restraining him. "Shit," Preston hissed.

"What is going on here?" She said, glaring at Preston and the male she was restraining.

Max spoke up. "Jake there was sexually harassing me and Preston was trying to defend me."

So that was the bitch's name. Huh.

The guard let Jake go when he stopped struggling. She sighed. "Look, boys, it's late. Why don't you two," She pointed at Max and Preston. "Go back to your dorms and I'll deal with Jake here. All of this will be sorted out by the morning."

Preston nodded. "Goodnight, ma'am" He said, unlocking the door and letting Max go in first. "Sorry to bother you," He added, before going in himself and closing the door.

--

Max was shaking as he sat on the bed. "Preston, you've got a good punch," was the only thing he could think of uttering out.

Preston kissed his forehead, laying down next to him and slinging his arm around Max's stomach. "Thank you,"