CW: Depressive Episode, Death of a Sibling (past), Emotional Constipation
Grace was in Bexon's room talking to him about a muffin and Bexon was not so thrilled to be there. Max would have found it amusing, especially when his boyfriend pouted over almost everything that brought him the smallest amount of discomfort.
Max nearly agreed Bexon and Halston shared resting bitch faces, never knowing one expression from the next, however, the more he got to know Bexon the less that was true. The man was actually rather expressive. Whether it be knowing the difference between the frown he got because he was frustrated or the frown he got when he was grossed out by something.
Then there were his eyes which Max paid way too much attention on—or too much time looking at, Bexon only did it when he was in a good mood or excited about something so Max made sure to take note of how his boyfriend's eyes lit up when he got excited even when he tried to front and hide it from whoever was around him.
However, the last few days had been nearing the two-week mark of something not being okay. Bexon was overall a bit off over the last twelve or so days. He stayed in bed a lot more during the day even when Max knew it wasn't because of his work schedule. It was almost like he hadn't been sleeping much at night, Max knew the man lacked sleep most of the time, but he knew this was something different.
Though no one would tell him what it was.
Grace walked out soon enough, setting the muffin with a rather angry-looking bite taken out of it onto the counter. She looked tired too, worry clearly painted on her own face and Max wanted to know what was going on—he really did, but he also knew it probably wasn't his place to ask.
"Morning Max," Grace greeted him, once she saw him in the kitchen.
"Morning," he replied. Max put the dishes he was currently putting away on pause and focused on Grace, maybe he if just asked vaguely it would help. He didn't need the details of what was going on; he just needed to know if there was something he could do to help.
"Is everything alright?" Max asked in a low whisper.
Grace took a breath and shrugged, which was not very helpful to Max at the moment.
"You never know with him," she whispered back. She looked back down the hallways she came from then looked over to the front door. Max got the hint and followed her out.
"He is unpredictable around this time of year—he won't want me to tell you, but just make sure he is okay, he takes shit care of himself on a good day," Grace didn't elaborate much more than that before she left.
Grace seemed genuinely worried about him, so it wasn't her that Bexon was upset with. Max knew his boyfriend wasn't close to many people, his sister and Erin were two of the only people he really talked to on a weekly to daily basis. Then the thought of it maybe not being either of them what if it was his other sister.
The ones of a girl he saw in the Venturi house. Max shut down the thoughts he knew he would respect that and not pry into what was wrong, he would wait until Bexon said something to him about it. Until then he would just make sure his boyfriend had everything he needed and was doing okay.
Max stared outside for a moment, enjoying the sun before he walked to the mailbox, remembering he forgot to get it yesterday. He picked up a few letters—most likely bills—before heading back inside.
As soon as Max walked back inside he was met with his boyfriend only in a pair of strawberry theme boxer briefs.
"Like what you see?" Bexon asked, catching Max's staring problem.
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And They Were Housemates ✓
RomanceBexon Venturi was the embodiment of death. He worked hard to stay at the top of all his classes, which left him no room to dwell on his unpleasant past. Years spent convinced it was his fault took their toll; he was distant and only allowed a few...
