𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠~𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛

beach day

After the washroom incident, max and charles strangely got more close. Welp one can say Charles embarrassing moment was one to remember for Max.

Apart from the same room, there were things they had to do together to "get close". Both of their managers informed them about going to the beach today and let's just say they kinda well forgot it .

Morning

It wasn’t until 10:30 a.m. on Saturday, when Max, still in his pajamas, scrolling through his phone, saw a reminder pop up: 'beach day ugh'

Max shot up from his bed , nearly spilling his cereal. "Charles! Get up, get up! We’re supposed to be at the beach!"

Charles groaned. "What beach? What day? It’s the weekend, man. Let me sleep."

"The beach day we have to do in the 'get close' time. Our managers will kill us if we didn't go" Max sighed.

Charles blinked, the gears in his head slowly starting to turn. "Oh… right. The beach." He sat up, looking around like he was trying to remember how mornings worked. "What time is it?"

"10:30," Max replied, his voice tinged with urgency.

Charles squinted at Max. "We’re not late, then. What’s the rush?"

Max rolled his eyes. "We’re late by the  standards of our team. They said to reach by 9:00 am".

Charles sighed and flopped back onto his bed. "Do we really need to go ? We can just make a excuse"

Max pulled the covers off him. "Yes, Charles, we do. Because otherwise, we’ll end up having to do more of this stuff."

That got Charles moving. "Alright, alright. I’m up!" he grumbled, stumbling toward the closet.

Fifteen minutes later, they were both packed and out the door—Max looking beach-ready in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, while Charles, in his usual state of semi-consciousness, was wearing flip-flops with socks and a T-shirt that read "Nap All Day, Sleep All Night."

"Charles, you can’t wear socks with flip-flops," Max pointed out as they loaded their stuff into the car.

Charles looked down at his feet. "Why not? My feet get cold."

Max sighed. "We’re going to the beach. You won’t need socks."

Charles shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

After what felt like an eternity of Charles complaining about sand getting everywhere—even before they reached the beach—they finally arrived.

They finally found a spot—a not-so-perfect patch of sand wedged between a family reunion complete with screaming toddlers and a guy who had apparently decided today was a great day to practice his one-man steel drum performance. Charles gave Max a look that screamed, "i want to got back."

They set up their towels and beach umbrella, and Max tried to make the best of it. "At least we’re here. Now they won't conplain about us not following the rules."

Just as they were about to settle in, Charles realized something horrifying. "Max, I forgot sunscreen!"

Max turned to him, stunned. "How could you forget sunscreen? You’re the palest person I know!"

Charles shrugged sheepishly. "I was too busy worrying about socks."

Max sighed and  shook his head, he rummaged through the beach bag. "Lucky for you, I packed an extra bottle. But next time, Charles, prioritize."

As Charles slathered on what seemed like half the bottle of sunscreen, Max finally relaxed and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. For a brief moment, everything was peaceful.

Until Charles, in his infinite grace, knocked over the beach umbrella while trying to adjust it. The umbrella took flight, cartwheeling down the beach like it had decided it wanted to be free. Max leaped to his feet, chasing after it while Charles tried to apologize to the beachgoers who were now dodging the rogue umbrella like it was some kind of sandy missile.

When Max finally caught it, he returned to find Charles sitting sheepishly on the towel, covered in even more sand than before. "Maybe we should just go swimming," Charles suggested, as if that would somehow undo the chaos.

Max sighed but agreed. "Fine. But let’s try not to drown, okay?"

They waded into the water, trying to avoid stepping on any mysterious objects that felt like they belonged more in a horror movie than a beach. Charles, predictably, managed to step on something that sent him hopping around like a deranged flamingo, causing Max to laugh so hard he nearly inhaled a mouthful of seawater.

After a series of failed attempts at swimming, a seagull stealing their snacks, and Charles accidentally belly-flopping into a wave that was clearly out to get him, they finally called it a day.

As they packed up and trudged back to the car, sunburned, sandy, and slightly traumatized, Max glanced at Charles. "Well, that was… something."

Charles nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Next time, let’s just stick to Netflix."

Max grinned. "Deal. But at least now you have a reason to wear socks with flip-flops."
"Also, next time?" Max added chuckling.

Embarrassment crept on Charles cheek " I mean if they tell us to do this again"

And with that, they drove home, slightly worse for wear but with enough beach day memories (and sand) to last a lifetime.