Cause for Concern ✓

thirty three

SUNDAY. 26. DECEMBER. 2021.

"HOW was Christmas?" Max asked, stroking his fingers through Cole's hair, brunet locks spilling over his knuckles.

Cole shrugged. His head was resting on Max's chest and his arms were wrapped around him. His cheek was pressed against Max's erratically beating heart, skipping swift and defiant, but he never commented on the disturbance of it, even though there was no way he didn't notice. Maybe he liked knowing that he could make Max's heart beat that fast, maybe he didn't care enough to point it out— maybe part of him was amused by it.

"Fine," he murmured, nuzzling against Max— more specifically, against Max's heart.

"I'm sorry your sister couldn't come home," he whispered into Cole's hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, his fingers still threading through the soft strands and gently massaging his scalp. He smiled to himself when Cole shuffled and fluttered his eyes closed, sinking under his touch like it was a lullaby.

"S'okay," he murmured, one corner of his lip moving against the material of Max's hoodie. "She's gonna try and come back before Christmas break ends. Better than nothing."

"Yeah, I know," Max replied softly, still massaging his head with both hands, "but I'm still sorry."

"Forget it," he mumbled, shaking his head as much as he could without lifting it up. "How was your Christmas?"

"Fine," he chuckled quietly, craning his neck to the side to see Cole's face, satisfied when he saw the edges of midnight eyelashes brushing over those sculpted cheekbones and those sweet, rosy lips tugging into a smile so tranquil that it made his beating heart burst from the selfishness of itself.

"Tell me about it," he yawned, his grasp around Max tightening, and his chest rising and falling with a sound rhythm.

"It's not interesting," Max informed, pinching the dark hair at the nape of his neck between his index finger and thumb.

"Tell me anyway," he shrugged, barely lifting his head and turning it just enough to kiss Max's heart, lips pursing against a love that beat with the sound of him. "Just wanna listen to your voice."

"Okay," Max murmured, stroking the back of his fingers up and down over Cole's warm face when he settled back down. "I'll tell you."

It had been an improvement from last year. Last Christmas, he'd spent the day with his dad's side of the family and they'd had to leave dinner early after the two of them had gotten into an explosive argument. Suffice to say, the ride home had been painfully awkward— thick tension buried in heavy silences, clenched jaws to accentuate the stony stares, patterns etched into the palms of their hands.

As soon as they'd gotten home, Max had thrown the car door open and slammed it, storming to his room and locking himself in there for the rest of the night.

When his step-mom and Josh eventually returned home, they'd invited him downstairs to watch a movie before bed, but he'd stubbornly refused. Instead, he'd call Tyler, and the two of them talked for hours and hours about how Christmas always ended with raw throats, and white knuckles, and damp eyelashes (he tried not to linger too long on this part, despite how much he enjoyed Cole pulling him impossibly closer at the mention of his closeness with Tyler).

This year had been with his mom, and her side of the family was much smaller than his dad's. It had been a nice change of pace to be able to spend the holidays with cousins that actually liked him (and that he actually liked), and aunts and uncles who didn't demand as much entertainment or attention as his paternal aunts and uncles. It had been quieter and it sucked that he didn't get the chance to see Josh until after Christmas was over, but it was probably still the best one that he'd had in years.