Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

59. Staying In

Max's Apartment
July 3rd, Max's birthday
(2009) Max is 24, Liz is 23

The apartment looked like a warzone.

If someone had walked in right then, ignorant to what had been going on the night before, they would've assumed that Max Evans had just been robbed.

Furniture was toppled over. Picture frames were crooked. There was chocolate sauce on the floor, and the water in the shower was dripping from not having been turned off completely. On the floor was a dying flower, in the middle of a smashed pot.

But walking into the bedroom, everything was quiet. The owner of the apartment was spooning his tired body around the naked body of his girlfriend. In the light of the morning of his birthday, Max Evans was sleeping heavily, his cheek pressed up against her shoulder and his hand resting heavily across her waist, keeping her close to him.

Liz Parker was just as tired. If she hadn't been immersed in the deepest sleep of her life right then, she would've reveled in the sweet soreness of her body and how she might possibly currently be the most satisfied woman on the face of the planet.

If it hadn't been for Max's cell phone going off to the tunes of I'm too Sexy, they might've continued sleeping for days, limbs entwined.

"Nooo," Max grumbled against Liz's skin.

"What's that noise?" Liz mumbled back.

"I'm sorry," Max whispered, his hand whispering done the front of her abdomen as he started rolling away from her.

"No," she moaned. "Don't leave."

Before his body lost complete contact with her body, he leaned back and lightly bit her shoulder. "I'll be back."

"Mmm..." she mumbled, barely conscious.

Squinting against the midday sun, Max tried to get his tired brain around the possible location of his phone. Getting to his feet, he followed the singing of Right Said Fred, who was apparently too sexy for his cat right now, and hauled the phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

Pushing the answer button, he mumbled, "Speak."

"Max?"

Rubbing his hand across his face, Max tried to get himself to wake up. "Speaking."

"Are you okay?"

Recognizing his father's voice, Max suddenly felt very exposed, standing naked in the middle of his bedroom with his childhood friend slash girlfriend sleeping naked in his bed after a whole night of adult activities.

"Dad? What's up?"

"You sound terrible. Couldn't wait until your birthday to start the celebrations?"

Max smiled, stepping over his gym bag and sitting down on the bed. "I guess fate wanted it otherwise."

His father laughed good-naturedly on the other end of the line. "So your birthday is going to be a calm-stay-at-home-licking-your-wounds kind of birthday instead?"

Max glanced behind him, to the dark-haired beauty hugging his pillow to her naked chest. His eyes worked their way across her body, from the dark rustled hair to the last piece of naked skin he could spot just above her hip before the sheet covered up her lower body.

"Max? You there?"

"Uh," Max cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from Liz. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Okay then. It doesn't seem like this is gonna be an intellectually stimulating conversation anyway so-"

Max grinned. "If you wanted an intellectually stimulating conversation, you shouldn't be calling me, Dad."