Cause for Concern ✓

eleven

MONDAY. 04. OCTOBER.

"ISN'T this break and entering?"

"Yep," Cole said.

"Sweet," Carter responded, tilting his head towards Max. "How did you know the house would be empty?"

"I didn't," Max admitted, his breath shaking, rising and falling heavy in his chest. "Got lucky."

Carter laughed. "The universe must be on our side tonight."

Max swallowed. "We'll see," he said, his eyes scanning over the back of the large, white house and then falling back over Carter who had climbed successfully into the back room.

The night air was cool and refreshing and it eased him, even if only a little. As he climbed through the window into the empty chill of the house, he was overwhelmed with a desire to climb right back out— a desire that was only conquered by Cole extending a helpful hand towards him to help him balance and offering him a gentle smile in the faint darkness.

"Thanks," he said quietly. Despite them being the only ones inside the house, he felt like if he wasn't quiet then someone was going to walk in the room or flip on a light switch at any second.

Cole smiled at him and dropped his hand. He flexed his fingers, his fingertips dancing with the brush of silky skin.

He peered around the room. Carter was already urging Tommy along with him, through the door and further into the house. After hovering in the room a second, glancing around, Cole turned back to Max and Danny with a little nod.

"Better be quick," he remarked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," Max murmured, squinting to see the outlines of people and places in the photographs framed on the mantelpiece. "Better be."

Cole watched him for a moment and looked towards Danny, who merely shrugged at him. He hovered for a only a second longer before he was following after Carter and Tommy, who had disappeared inside the house somewhere.

"Good thing you remembered that window," Danny chimed, breaking the silence that hung between them as they lingered by their break-in point.

Luckily, he'd remembered the back living room window had a weak lock that could be easily shimmied. Tyler had broken it back in summer by kicking a soccer ball at it in a burst of rage after he'd argued with a friend of theirs.

They'd gone back to his place together and after he'd broken the window, he'd turned to Max and laughed and cursed and rushed towards it to see if he could fix it. He couldn't. Max had tried to help him and his attempts had been just as fruitless. When he'd given up, Tyler, still brimming with amusement, had held him by the face and knocked their foreheads together. When he pulled himself away, he tilted Max's head towards him and kissed the top of it. A ghost of him was still lingering in the house, even when hr wasn't here.

His parents hadn't noticed the window until later in the night and, despite his mom's frustrated urges, his dad had failed to get it fixed— and she would never care to do it herself.

So the window was still broken.

He had counted on it not being fixed. Tyler's dad was always in charge of fixing little things like that and he was always so swamped with work and social responsibilities that he usually completely forgot about them. He was a tired, well-meaning guy who was always a little pretentious— even more so when he was trying his hardest not to be.

Honestly, he didn't feel too bad about shaking the lock loose and pushing the window open. He didn't feel especially bad about climbing through either. Actually, he didn't feel bad about any of it. He could've been up to a lot worse. If anything, he was technically doing them a favour by not causing more trouble while he had the chance.