𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠~𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛

Apology

The next morning, Charles woke up feeling like he’d been run over by an entire F1 grid—mentally, at least. Last night’s kiss, followed by Max’s Olympic-level sprint out of the room, replayed in his head on an endless loop.

Charles glanced over at Max’s bed, which was very much empty, the blankets still neatly tucked in. He sighed, rubbing his face. Max hadn’t come back last night. Charles wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or if he should be preparing for the world’s most awkward roommate breakup.

He dragged himself out of bed and decided to take a long shower to clear his head. Water always helped. So did planning a conversation in his head where he apologized, Max laughed it off, and they went back to being two completely normal roommates who definitely didn’t kiss each other in a fit of unspoken emotion.

It was foolproof, really.

When he emerged from the bathroom, still toweling his hair dry, he found Max standing in the middle of the room, looking unusually awkward. He was wearing yesterday’s clothes, which meant he hadn’t bothered coming back at all.

“Oh,” Charles said, startled. “You’re here.”

Max nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting on his feet. “Yeah.”

Silence.

Great. This was going well.

Charles tossed his towel aside, trying to act casual even though his heart was thumping in his chest. “So, um, about last night…”

Max’s head snapped up, eyes wide, clearly waiting for what Charles was going to say next.

Charles took a deep breath, trying to put on his best diplomatic face. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to—well, I did mean to, but I shouldn’t have—look, I’m just sorry, okay?”

Max blinked. “You’re… apologizing?”

Charles nodded quickly, trying not to ramble. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have kissed you out of nowhere. It was impulsive and stupid, and I get it if it made you uncomfortable.”

Max stared at him for a moment, his face completely unreadable. Then, in classic Max fashion, he blurted out, “It didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

Charles stopped mid-breath. “What?”

Max scratched the back of his neck, looking away. “I mean, yeah, I ran out of the room like an idiot, but it wasn’t because of the kiss. I just… freaked out, I guess.”

Charles felt his face warm. “You… freaked out?”

Max groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Yeah, okay? I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never—” He paused, then continued, “It just surprised me.”

Charles wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or even more confused. “So, you’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad,” Max said quickly, then added, “Just… bad at dealing with stuff like this.”

Charles chuckled nervously, feeling the tension start to lift—just a little. “Okay, well, that’s good to know. So… can we forget about it and just go back to normal?”

Max’s expression shifted, and for a split second, Charles thought he saw something like hesitation flicker in his eyes.

“Do you want to forget about it?” Max asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Charles froze. Was this a trap? He felt like he was walking a tightrope over a pit of emotional confusion.

“I mean…” Charles started, unsure of how to word this. “If it makes things easier between us, then yeah, maybe we should.”

Max took a small step closer, and suddenly, the air between them felt charged again, like it had last night. Charles didn’t move, his heart now doing cartwheels in his chest.

“But what if I don’t want to forget about it?” Max asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Charles blinked, his brain short-circuiting. “Wait. What?”

Before Charles could say anything else—before he could even process what was happening—Max closed the remaining distance between them, grabbed Charles by the front of his t-shirt, and kissed him.

It was quick and a little clumsy, like Max wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing. But it was a kiss—an actual, real kiss, and this time, Charles was the one frozen in place.

Max pulled back just a few inches, his face redder than Charles had ever seen it. “Uh… there. Now we’re even.”

Charles stared at him, his brain doing that thing again where it refused to catch up with reality. “Did you—did you just…?”

Max let out an embarrassed laugh, still holding onto Charles’s shirt. “Yeah. I kissed you.”

Charles was still too stunned to react properly, but a smile was already creeping onto his face. “And then you kissed me.”

Max nodded, awkwardly letting go of Charles’s shirt. “Yeah. Because you kissed me first, so… I guess I had to?”

Charles burst out laughing, the tension in the room evaporating in an instant. Max stood there, looking half-embarrassed, half-relieved.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Max,” Charles said between laughs, wiping at his eyes. “But I appreciate the logic.”

Max was still red-faced but smiled a little, clearly relieved that Charles wasn’t freaking out. “So… what now?”

Charles’s laughter faded into a grin as he looked at Max, who still seemed unsure of what to do with his hands now that they weren’t clutching his shirt. He stepped a little closer, feeling bolder now that they’d both completely embarrassed themselves.

“Well,” Charles said, voice softening, “now, maybe we stop running away.”

Max’s eyes met his, and for once, he didn’t look like he was about to bolt. He actually looked… calm. Like he was finally okay with whatever this was between them.

Charles leaned in again, this time slower, more deliberate, giving Max every opportunity to back out if he wanted to. But Max didn’t. He closed the distance, their lips meeting again, this time with more certainty, more warmth.

When they pulled back, Max didn’t run. He didn’t freak out. He just stood there, looking a little dazed but in a good way.

“So… this is a thing now?” Max asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Charles grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “Yeah, Max. I think this is definitely a thing now.”

Max let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. “Good. Because, uh, I’m really bad at running.”

Charles snorted. “You’re literally an athlete. How are you bad at running?”

Max shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I’m better at driving fast. Running away from kisses? Not my thing.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Charles said, his voice softening again. “Because I think I’d rather you stay.”

Max didn’t need to say anything. His smile—and the fact that he didn’t bolt out the door this time—said it all.