The 4 Beat waltz

II. Hangover

Maxwell's POV
He woke up the next day with a shooting pain in his head and no clue how he got it. Memories of the previous night escaped him too. He overdid it, he knew it. He did remember a man though. Did he do this? No, nobody could be bothered doing anything to him... right? ... right? He probably should phone the council just in case

But everything hurt so bad he didn't even want to move. He could hear his dog barking from somewhere , probably wanting a treat. Yelping and yipping. What time even was it? What time did he get home? Oh god how much he hated amnesia, ever since he was little he would black out almost constantly , all the time- but that was brainwashing. This was just a blackout hangover. Yes, he could cope this but god did he not want to , he REALLY didn't want to go through this hangover.

He used magic to guide his hand to his phone, using muscle memory to dial his advisor since the screen would finish him off vampire style if he looked at it. If she would kindly pick up so he could get... advice. Or at least told to his face if he was being a royal drama queen again - which was very common given his tolerance to any sort of pain was negative zero. The phone rang once, then twice... thrice

"Hello? Stonehill Castle advisory, what can I do for you so early in the morning Max?" It was early? That one surprised him given how he was usually with hangovers, sleeping all way through the day and only waking up once or twice to throw up or something . He shook off the thought as he spoke - his throat dry and itchy 

"You know how you forced me to that party last night?"
"I didn't force you , your Highness, I suggested that-"
"You forced me , anyway I think someone drugged me and probably went further after he did"

The line went silent for a second and then they laughed. Fucking laughed? It wasn't funny , it was a serious matter. It was times like this Max wondered why he hired them , well he didn't even do that they just came with the whole "kingship" package .. which he also didn't want to begin with. Woo for democracy.

Then again if they were gonna be like this he was fucked on two accounts - he was a guy and he was Satan. Nobody was gonna care because "oh but it means you got laid" , the idea made him want to vomit more than the hangover did.

"It's not funny"
"It kinda is. One party and you get taken advantage of? Jesus shit Max."
"Cool we've established I'm stupid now what do I do about it."
"I can't do anything about it because British law has nothing to do with us and you know how British public is. Do you want to wait 8 months just for the other guy to win?"
"You're so helpful. So very fucking helpful."

He hung up. Too tired , too hungover to deal with the shit his advisory was doing, then again they weren't usually like this. Then again.. again. They were also the type to shove a socially awkward , noise sensitive man to a party. He wouldn't put it past them.

He rolled over , his dog now noticeably on the floor. Looking up expectantly. Max chuckled because there wasn't really anything he could give the dog. Not even affection. He teleported the dog on the bed as to not completely neglect her.

Her name was cookie, a beige and white coloured Pomeranian with a heart of gold and the energy of a Jack Russel. She was a parting gift by he twin sister who didn't want  Maxwell to feel completely alone once she moved back to Aberdeen with a new boyfriend. Max never even got to meet said boyfriend, he just existed and now his twin was gone. Andrew still lived in England though, if he remembered right he lived in Leeds or some shit. He had no idea what he was up to , other than hopefully getting therapy now. Something max wished he could afford. He probably could because of the treasury but he didn't want to use hells tax money just to "bEcOmE a bEttEr PerSoN." At least Andrew was dealing with his issues now, that was the main thing

Blackpool, where Maxwell was now, was a shithole. Way beyond boring and just ... awful- sure there was the pleasure beach but there was only so many times you can look at it before it became boring.

Max sighed pulling his dog closer to his face to at least have some other texture other than the bedsheets and feel something other than the pounding headache, he didn't even notice as a stranger slipped himself into his room and on the bed.

"Mijn Maxje?" He whispered as he slid himself onto the bed and beside max, running a hand on his head it felt good. It got rid of the headache. But eventually Max tried to swat the hand away

"You're the Dutch guy aren't you..? The one who drugged me..?"

*-*-*

Oswald's POV
He sighed. Max was a lot more observant than the average person. The drugs should've suppressed his memory. Of anything after five minutes. It was the memory loss that did it though didn't it? He forgot max was no stranger to forced amnesia- it was the easiest fact to find about him. His home life, how he grew up. They were similar because of this. And that was why Max was his target

"No, mijn geliefde... I didn't spike your drink." He mumbled. I took you to a bed to sit for a second, you didn't look too well." He whispered. His words a smooth honey laced with something else. Max just whined , leaning into the touch. Ozz had to crack a smile at that. He hadn't had affection in years , had he?

Silence befell the bedroom after that, ozz mumbling a mix between conditioning and comfort, healing the hangover slowly. Not fast enough to be noticeable but fast enough to be better than just sleeping it off.

"What if we go out for breakfast? Would you like that," Ozz hummed. "Get you some food and at least a coffee for myself? got to make sure you're okay now after all"

"If you really were just taking care of me, sure"

Ozz smiled and then looked on the bed , the Pomeranian from the night previous was sleeping by Max's side. He was beloved with animals. Something Ozz adored in his newfound obsession.

He looked at his phone. Half past ten, the cafe he wanted to take the other to was open by now but he just needed the other to get dressed first.

"Can you get yourself dressed? I'll wait in your livingroom" Ozz said , max just nodded. Obedient already and Ozz only mumbled a few things regarding obedience. The conditioning this morning was just largely focused on trust. Ozz smiled as he stepped out the room. Time to explore

He went to the kitchen first, looking through the cupboards and drawers there was all sorts of fancy tools and ingredients, the fridge full of meals he made presumably to just microwave when he couldn't be fucked. Also disorganised in a charming way, the baking flour right next to the cooking sauces. He must have it organised by usage or something.

He darkly chuckled. This would be  interesting, the one who generally didn't eat much. And the one who cooked. Maybe he would find a new safe food with his new love. He did want to indulge his hobbies  after all. In the living room is where he found the dogs bed and care stuff. There was also a guitar. A grand piano, classy. It was a mess though. Probably not cleaned ins few weeks. But that was okay. It would be all okay once Max was in Ozz's care.

Speaking of max he came into the living room. Ozz finally realised how tall the man was now he wasn't high on whatever he got his kick from the previous night. Ozz himself was 5'7 with heels on and only then did he scratch hip height. He still looked gorgeous though , despite only wearing a white T-shirt and some ripped jeans. His hair was slightly brushed but still falling in front of his eyes.

Little care in the world for himself... perfect

Ozz smiled as he let max lead him to the door. Here's where it began.

The day max would find love, and he would find the first follower for the second time.