Reading between the lines

double dates send Max spiraling

This might've been the prettiest apartment Max had ever seen. Clearly Charles and Oscar had a talent in decorating and probably interior design. Everything was color-coordinated perfectly from the couch, to shelves, to desks, to plants, to blankets, pillows and candles. It wasn't messy, but also not too clean. It just looked like it was lived in and loved. And it smelled of sea salt and citrus fruits, probably thanks to the candle burning on the wooden coffee table.

The vintage, velvet couch had exactly four blankets on them, all in varying shades of blue. Oscar and Lando immediately skipped over to the right side, cuddling up the second their bodies hit the cushions.

Judging by Charles not even looking at them and instead beelining over to the open kitchen and grabbing a tray with bowls, filled with snacks, this wasn't the first time.

"Can I help you with anything?" Max asked, not really fond of watching the couply behaviour over on the couch either.

"No!" Charles cast him a glance, that stern look back on his face. "You go and sit and warm up. I don't want you to get sick."

"I'll hardly get sick." Max scoffed, but he didn't manage to sound quite as assured as he wanted to, due to the warmth Charles' concern for him brought. To compensate for it, he crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm from Holland and very well adjusted to cold temperatures, thank you very much."

Another sharp glance, but Charles didn't say anything and instead balanced the tray on one hand, the other finding its way to the small of Max's back, pushing him toward the couch. The younger man pretended to resist, but it was just an excuse to press into the touch. Charles might've noticed, the grin on his face telling enough.

With played forcefulness the Monegasque pushed Max down into the couch, right after carefully playing the snacks on the coffee table. Max let out a squawk, but didn't have much time to react or even protest as Charles had already grabbed his designated blanket and began wrapping it tightly around him.

"Hey!" Max whined, trying to move his arms, but they were restricted by the soft, fluffy fabric. "What is this? A hostage situation?"

"Yes." It wasn't Charles who answered him, but Oscar, his voice dry as ever. "That is actually why we invited you here. Gonna make you our house slaves."

Max let out a snore, his gaze wandering from Oscar to Charles, who was towering over him a crooked grin on his full lips. All Max wanted to do was pull him down and- He looked back to the Aussie, feeling his cheeks heating up again.

"I'd be a terrible house slave fyi." Lando declared, oblivious to whatever was going on to the left of him, his eyes focused on Oscar. "I can't cook, clean, do laundry, or take out the trash... I am very useless."

Oscar took a handful of nuts from the bowls before settling back down next to Lando and put an arm around him. A smirk on his face, he said, "That's okay. You can just sit there and look pretty. We'll have Max do all of the house work."

Max didn't even get the chance to complain and ask when this whole house slave thing had become a fact and if there was any way he could get a say in this, because he wasn't very keen on house work either. But before he could even open his mouth, Charles shot up and while Max couldn't see his face, the raised finger, pointing at his roommate, gave him a pretty good idea of the expression displayed on it.

"Why would Max have to do all of the work?" He questioned pointedly with the accusatory tone only used by lawyers in a court case. That impression was underlined by Charles' hand, gesturing towards the Dutchman behind him. "Why can't he sit and look pretty?"

"Well, obviously because I am much prettier than him." Lando said, flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder, but the pretentious smirk was wiped off his face when his eyes landed on Charles.