The morning sun peeked through the blinds, spilling warm light across the apartment. Charles woke up feeling lighter, the heaviness in his chest from the past few days finally starting to lift. He rolled over on the couch and stretched, glancing around the living room, which was still littered with empty coffee mugs and snacks from the marathon "life talk" he and Max had last night.
He heard clattering in the kitchen and looked up to see Max struggling with a frying pan, eggs splattered across the stovetop. Charles blinked, grinning at the sight of Max standing there, his hair a wild mess, looking determined as he tried to wrangle scrambled eggs that were quickly becoming… well, not scrambled.
“You’re up early,” Charles said, trying to keep a straight face.
Max jumped, nearly dropping the pan. “Charles! Good morning!” he said, his voice overly cheerful and a little too loud. “I, uh, thought I’d make us breakfast.”
Charles raised an eyebrow, wandering over to get a better look. “Are you… boiling the eggs in the pan?”
Max looked down, confused. “This is how scrambled eggs work, right? You just kind of… mix them in the pan until they’re… done?”
Charles bit his lip, trying to hide a laugh. “Only if you’re trying to make scrambled egg soup. Want some help?”
Max’s cheeks flushed a little. “No, I’ve got it! I can cook! I’m just… giving them some extra moisture.”
“Uh-huh,” Charles replied, holding back a chuckle. He watched as Max tried to stir the eggs, which were now more of an eggy liquid. “So… what’s for breakfast? Scrambled soup, or the ‘classic toast crumb mess’ you also have going?”
Max sighed, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, leaving a small smear of egg on his cheek. “Fine, go ahead and laugh. I was just… trying to be nice.”
Charles grinned and grabbed a paper towel, reaching up to wipe the egg from Max’s face. “I appreciate it, really. You’re just… maybe better suited to, I don’t know, ordering breakfast.”
Max let out a dramatic sigh, setting the pan down with a clang. “Okay, fine. Let’s just admit that my cooking is… well, you wouldn’t survive it.”
They both broke into laughter, the tension between them finally easing into something lighter. Max grabbed his phone, still laughing, and ordered breakfast from their favorite café, adding way too many pastries to the order “for the trauma.”
As they waited for breakfast to arrive, they settled into their usual spots on the couch. Max flicked through channels on the TV, landing on a rerun of a silly cooking show where contestants seemed even worse in the kitchen than Max.
Charles chuckled, nudging Max. “Hey, see? You’re practically a pro compared to these guys.”
Max scoffed, crossing his arms. “Oh please. I could make something edible. Eventually.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “Sure, if ‘edible’ includes needing a fire extinguisher on standby.”
Max shot him a playful glare. “Hey, you’d still eat it.”
Charles shrugged. “True. I’ll eat anything once.”
They both laughed, the air between them light and easy. For a moment, Charles felt like they were back to the beginning of everything—before all the complicated feelings, before the doubts and late-night heart-to-hearts. Just two friends, hanging out and teasing each other.
Breakfast finally arrived, and they dug in with enthusiasm. Max practically inhaled his pastries, and Charles rolled his eyes, playfully swatting his hand away when Max tried to steal one of his.
“Hey! There’s plenty,” Charles said, laughing as Max pouted.
“But yours looks better,” Max whined, leaning over to take a bite of Charles’s croissant anyway.
Charles groaned, shoving him away gently. “You’re like a five-year-old, I swear.”
Max grinned, crumbs on his face. “And yet you still like me.”
Charles shook his head, laughing. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”
As they finished up, Max leaned back on the couch, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “You know, I feel like we’ve been taking things way too seriously lately. Maybe we just need to… relax more. Do fun stuff. Get out of our heads.”
Charles nodded, still smiling. “Agreed. Though last time we tried ‘fun stuff,’ you nearly killed us on the go-kart track, so maybe let’s dial it down a notch?”
Max let out a dramatic gasp. “I was winning, thank you very much.”
“You were spinning, Max. In circles. In the pit lane,” Charles countered, grinning widely.
Max shrugged. “Tomato, to-mah-to. Just admit it, you’re scared of my driving skills.”
Charles couldn’t stop laughing, leaning back and wiping tears from his eyes. “I think I’m scared of your kitchen skills now too. Maybe I’m just scared of you.”
Max grinned, leaning closer. “Then I must be doing something right.”
For a moment, their laughter faded, and Charles noticed the warmth in Max’s gaze. They’d spent so much time overthinking, analyzing every moment, every word, but now? Now, they were just two people, sharing a moment, feeling something real. The silence stretched between them, comfortable and full of things neither of them felt the need to say out loud.
Finally, Max broke the quiet with a soft laugh, pulling Charles into an easy hug. “Thanks for putting up with me.”
Charles grinned, hugging him back. “Anytime. Though next time, maybe I’ll cook.”
“Fine,” Max mumbled, his voice muffled against Charles’s shoulder. “But I still get first dibs on the croissants.”
YOU ARE READING
𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠~𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛
Fanfiction(A Lestappen story) when all the past trauma finds a way out when a person comes into his life, someone very 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙. First story<3 Also English is not my first language so mistakes can happen!
