CW: Car Accident
For some reason, Bexon's room was always much hotter than Max's. So much so that Max thought there had to be a secret space heater hidden in the room or if he had been transported to the pit of Tartarus in the middle of the night.
It didn't help that his boyfriend was clinging onto his back either, while the room was warm Bexon was cold. Clearly only taking any warmth he could get even if it meant initiating cuddling.
Max turned over to face his boyfriend, not quite ready to get up just yet. The fact that Bexon had agreed to be his boyfriend was still somehow shocking to him. It was like he would just randomly remember that they were dating and then proceed to not even believe that fact.
Max just never was able to picture himself finding someone, let alone someone as amazing as the man in bed with him. And the thing that got Max, striking him like lightning in a mid-summer storm was that Bexon didn't seem to look twice at him. Once they hooked up—hell since they kissed—Max looking back could see there was never just nothing between them.
What silence he took at the time for Bexon not caring was what he came to learn was how the man dealt with things. Bexon would shut down, ignore as much as possible, and not do anything about it under than a few outbursts if the problem was particularly getting to him.
Max looked over to his boyfriend, still cuddling up to him even after Max moved. The man was still asleep, something that could only be described as adorable. It was like the moment a grumpy cat curled up next to you and purred as it slept. Bexon had no glare or frown, no snarky comment to be made. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully.
Just as soon as the moment came it left within a matter of minutes when everything was interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen. Max had nearly forgotten all about his dad staying with them for a few days—a week—the man failed to inform him of how long his stay was.
Bexon, as the light of a sleeper as he could be, didn't seem to notice this time the sounds outside his room. He stayed asleep next to Max.
Slowly Max got up, making sure not to disrupt Bexon as he covered him back up. Max threw on a t-shirt before he quietly walked out to see what was left of the house. Shutting the door behind him before he walked out to see his dad in the kitchen cooking french toast, which would have been fine if he wasn't only wearing a towel.
"Oh, good morning one of my dearest sons~" Lester sang.
For a moment Max had thought it was like being back in California, except this time he didn't have his siblings around to help tame the blond man in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Max questioned first before he continued. "And why are you not dressed?!"
Both questions were ones he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to. He had yet to even make his disgusting ginger lemon tea and he was already dealing with this.
"What do you mean? I have a towel on, it covers everything. I even have one on as a hair net too," Lester pointed at the mess of a towel on his head for the effect.
Max sighed.
He did have a point, at least he had something on.
Max could remember the one time August and him had to chase Lester into the street to at least put underwear on. It was a very humbling moment and very much something a ten year old didn't need to see.
"Can you—I don't know, get dressed soon though?" Max asked, trying to be nice about it. Even if he knew being nice did not always work with Lester.
"I don't understand, why should I cover such a masterpiece like this?" Laster asked, pointing to himself in the process.
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And They Were Housemates ✓
RomansaBexon 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...
