Reading between the lines

double dates send Max spiraling

Because what was really keeping him from it?

They were in a safe environment. In the dark - someone had turned off the lights, only the TV dimly illuminating the living room. Oscar and Lando were doing their own thing, probably not even noticing what was happening a few feet away from them.

No one could see Max following his desires. No one there to blame him, judge him, scream at him or beat him. He was fine.

He kept repeating those affirmations in his head, especially when he heard hushed whispers from the couple on the other side of the sofa. They were talking about the movie, not him.

This wasn't so hard after all...

And then the movie suddenly stopped. The lights were turned back on. Shuffling sounded over to Max as he blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the harsh light burning into his corneas.

It all collapsed over him, that fear crashing down on him like a tidal wave, threatening to down him.

"We're gonna fill up the snacks." Oscar said upon hearing Charles protesting.

"And pee break." Lando added.

Hand in hand the two walked past them, both grinning at the huddled up men. It sent a wave of panic through Max.

They'd seen him.

Max's mind interpreting their grins - meant to be playful and teasing - as mocking. Cruel.

He couldn't even see their faces correctly, a picture of his father, how he'd looked at Max all those years ago, shoving its way to the foremost front of his mind. The disgust in his eyes burning itself into his conscience, never to be forgotten.

The nausea hit him all over again, so badly Max actually gagged. Just barely he was able to disguise the sound as a cough. But the rest of his body wasn't playing along as nicely as it had for the past hour.

If Max would have been dramatic, he might've thought he was going to die. Everything in him screamed to get up and run. He was in danger. He needed to lock himself in. Find a place where they wouldn't find him. Where he wouldn't find him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Max knew he wasn't being rational. That he was overreacting, but that faint voice was overruled by instinct, still strong enough to make him act like he wasn't on the brink of a panic attack.

So once the bathroom was free again, Lando joining Oscar in the kitchen, Max excused himself. Unravelling himself from Charles, he got up, feeling how stiff his legs were. Just like the rest of his body.

Max wasn't sure if Charles had said anything, noticed the abrupt change in behaviour, over the shrill ringing in his ears. He didn't dare look back either, just kept his eyes locked on the door he needed to get past, so he could close it behind him and wait for this to pass.

When he made it, Max had to force himself to close the door gently, not slam it shut like he'd wanted to. His gaze wandered, looking for a corner or a small space to hide in, more than satisfied when he spotted a bathtub.

He climbed into the cold ceramic tub, scooting behind the half-drawn curtain to hide himself from the non-existent eyes Max still felt on him, watching his every move. Still, he felt like throwing up, but swallowed the bile rising from his throat. If someone heard him, he would ruin the night for everyone. Their concern would kill him. He didn't deserve it.

Why couldn't he just act like a normal fucking person?

Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes, too powerful to be held back any longer. They dripped down Max's chin, a small testament to the pain he was truly feeling inside, but unable to let out. There was so much he wanted to do, feeling something stuck in his throat - a sob or a scream...

He buried his face in his hands, biting down hard on his lower lip, so he wouldn't let a sound slip.

The cries still shook through his trembling body, again and again. Curled up in the tight space the bathtub offered, Max couldn't keep his spine from hitting the hard, cool surface behind him. The small ache it caused the least of his worries. Especially when it helped his mind to not drift off completely.

It wandered enough as it was.

Back to his youth, his first love...

Oh, how scared Max had been for his father to find out, even back then feeling the need to keep it a secret wherever he went, just in case someone connected to his father would find out and tell him and how horrible it had been when his father had actually found out that- that his son was what he despised most.

The weeks of agony that had followed forever engraved in Max's mind, shaping him into the person he still was to this day...

The crying wasn't enough and neither was the pain in his back. He couldn't stop it. Sharp nails clawed through his hair, digging into his scalp. Teeth biting down harder on the soft flesh of his lip. Max tasted something metallic. Blood. Satisfaction mixed with despair.

A soft knock.

Max shuddered.

Then he paused as the sound echoed through the bathroom again.

A soft knock.

That wasn't his memory. His father had never knocked like that, his fists only known how to produce sounds so vile they still haunted Max's dreams. This was actually happening.

But before Max could really grasp that fact, he heard a voice so familiar and soothing he actually let out a sob, too relieved to even notice.

"Max?"