I've Got It Bad (And You'll Never Know) (BXB)

xiii.

 Walking out of the restaurant, all Julian could do was sigh with satisfaction. "How did you go from that—" He gestured towards the glowing sign of Yvonne's— "to throwin' up dining hall pizza at shitty parties?"

"Guess I fell in with the wrong crowd, eh?" Max joked, prodding Julian in the ribs. "But, hey, Greta was at that party, and she's got more family money than I do, so I guess college gets everybody in the end."

"Impossible."

"What?"

"No fuckin' way she's got more family money than you. I saw that bill. You're the richest dude in the world."

"It's not a big deal."

"Be honest, are you involved in the mafia?"

Max laughed in disbelief. "Yeah, you got me."

"Do you got bodyguards and shit? When you ask me for help, is that testin' my loyalty? Am I gonna get visited someday by some guy in a nice ass suit, and he's gonna tell me I've proved my worth, and I get to be in the mafia?"

"What the fuck," Max giggled, "do you think that entails? He says, like, 'welcome to the Mafia! Here's your gun, here's a shit ton of money!'"

Julian also couldn't help but laugh. "Uh, yeah! Duh! How else would the mafia work?"

They had wandered out of sight of the restaurant now, meandering through the dark streets of Boston, illuminated only by the occasional streetlight. Going home on the T felt strange after eating so luxuriously, but asking Max to pay for an Uber seemed pushy, even if Julian now somewhat grasped the scale of the other boy's riches.

Considering this, he looked at Max to find the other boy already staring. The fuck are you lookin' at?, Julian might say in a normal situation, but something about Max's eyes felt deeply vulnerable.

They held the gaze. Their walk was slowing, but neither spoke. They ended up completely still under a streetlight. Jules heard Max breathing.

Max had a faint blush on his cheeks. From Jules? Or because it was cold as shit outside and they'd both forgone significant jackets in favor of fashion?

The charged staring contest continued. Max's eyes were brown, like Julian's, but they felt... warmer. Softer. Not hazel by any stretch, but lighter. And right now, they looked nearly pleading. Max opened his mouth a bit, then shut it. Julian's eyes flickered to his lips. I think I might kiss him.

"Kiss me," Max whispered.

Julian lifted his hand to the side of Max's face, holding his cheek, just like the forgotten night of the frat party. He leaned in. Max closed his eyes. Lips met.

This time, Jules was allowed to enjoy it. It wasn't stolen. It was wanted. Asked for, even. Max's lips were soft, just as soft as they looked, just as soft as they'd been when Jules imagined them pressed against his. The kiss was slow, sweet, and warm. Julian traced his thumb down Max's jaw. Upon reaching Max's chin, he pulled down a bit, deepening the kiss. Max sighed into Julian's mouth. What the fuck is happening?

Wait, seriously, what the fuck is happening? Jules jumped back. "Woah. Woah. What's goin' on here?"

Max's expression mirrored Julian's. "Um— God— sorry, was that too much? I'm sorry, I—"

"No, no, don't apologize, I'm just— really confused— uh—"

"Oh, God, no, yeah, that makes sense, sorry, I was tryin' to be smooth—"

"You were what?"

Max looked frantically towards the ground. "I thought, like, I'd invite you to dinner, we'd have fun, nothin' had to happen, but if it did we'd take it slow, we'd—"