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He was never one to apologize. Maybe he was born that way, maybe it was because of his upbringing, or maybe he just learnt to imitate his usual group of friends, but he loathed to admit he was wrong; even more to feel sorry about it. What he hated yet more than that, was to apologize and admit he was wrong to the dork Max Goof. Not so much of a dork, nowadays though, no, far from it, actually. Max was now occupying his spot on the campus' hierarchy, in every way possible, and impossible. The nerve that freshman had, to steal everything he achieved and aspired to be, and the year wasn't even close to be over.
Bradley was lying on his bed, scrolling through Max's Instagram profile. Muttering curses, any he could think of, "he deserves it", he thought. Even if deep down, he knew he really didn't. But hating someone for his own wrongdoings was easier than admitting he was wrong. That's what he was taught, more or less; certainly not on purpose, but since he can remember, his parents blamed him for their misfortunes, whether he was involved or not, so naturally he just took in that posture.
He sighed, beaten by his own thoughts. Not even on his mind could he run away from admitting defeat. It seemed as though his own brain was out to get him to say sorry, too. It was driving him nuts. He was about to exit the boy's profile, because he didn't feel like beating himself up for the thenth time today, but the universe appeared to have other plans, so he mistakenly refreshed the page, and the little icon that was Max's profile picture (it was the latest Powerline's album cover) had that characteristic strip of colors, resembling the sky when the sun goes down. Bradley's hand trembled; he was tempted to open the story. Should he? Maybe. Could he? Definitely. Why? He wasn't sure, but his curiosity spoke louder than any stupid excuse he could come up with to try to justify that last question.
He wasn't going to just open it up with his profile, no, he was a jerk, not an idiot. He quickly made a burner account, one of those you name after dumb shit or an almost nonsensical potpourri of silly words, he opted for it, because nobody would ever fathom to think it was him. Hurried, he searched up the freshman's account, thanking above that the brown-eyed guy was a social butterfly, so his profile was public. He tapped, eyes glued to the screen.
It was a video. Starring Max's obnoxious friends.
"Oh, it's uhm... redhead stoner and wannabe Shakespeare." He thought out loud. The two guys were in front of not-gamma-mu-mu-so-I-don't-care frat house, and clearly intoxicated. There was a party going on. He recognised the frat house, he actually passed through sometimes to go to his lectures. It wasn't close to his dorm, but it wasn't that far. If he concentrated enough, he could faintly hear the party's music from his room.
"Don't you... forget about me..." The redhead yelled on the screen, his voice breaking, making PJ laugh. They were hugging, with one arm around each other's shoulders. You could hear a faint snicker coming from behind the camera. The recording was wobbly and messy, kinda like how the two drunk guys were. He wondered how much had Max to drink, it was barely one in the morning.
"Guys, get a room!" Max talked, laughing. His laugh finished with an adorable "a-hyuck" of his. It was music to Bradley's ears, for some reason, though he wouldn't admit it out loud.
The boys on the video came closer to the camera, there was a strange movement, and suddenly, without prior notice, the video switched to the frontal camera, and he saw... him.
There he was, Max. Eyes glazed, cheeks flushed, smiling like an idiot so his tooth gap was showing, piercings shining in the moonlight. Good God. He was laughing, snickering and occasionally bickering with his mates. He could faintly recognize his Powerline t-shirt, it seemed five sizes too big for him, but it suited his frame so well. He was trying to take his mind to not trail that way.
"Team 99! Whooo, baby!" Max yelled in te video, PJ and Bobby cheered. And that helped. He was now extremely pissed. At what? Heaven knows. Probably at the reminder, once again, of his failure and how his life took a turn for the worst. Who has time for self-hatred when you can hate others instead?
He turned off his phone, aggressively put on his blazer and darted off his dorm room. He was going to that party. If Max didn't see him, he was going to make him.
Max was drunk. Clearly drunk. Drunk enough to make out with whomever, but no so drunk so he would go home with whomever. Not like he'd want to, either. He took a few hits with Bobby and PJ a few minutes ago, and it was starting to take effect. He was getting all giggly and happy for no reason, not caring what other people thought.
He was at the dance floor (at least, what was adopted as it) swinging his body to the rythm, feeling the music to his bones. He pestered his friends to go to this party, as it was themed around the 80's, so he was excitedly hoping to hear Powerline blasting through the speakers. Some people approached him, some to say hi, some for recognition, some for a quick fuck. He wasn't bothered enough to care for their intentions as he shut down every single one, he could blame it on the alcohol, or maybe, on someone else.
Bradley Uppercrust the Third. A name floating around in his head since the start of the year. No, even before that. Saying the blue-eyed guy occupied his mind would be an understatement, he broke in his thoughts like a madman, shattering every sense and reason. Sometimes he found himself getting lost in thought, thinking about him. His smile, His smile, his sometimes psycho attitude, how his eyes lit up everytime he skated. He got it bad. But with time, Max's grown accustomed to it. He was waiting for the day someone would leave a bigger mark on his life than Bradley did, but it seemed like that wouldn't be the case, and by now, he didn't really want to.
Since the X Games, their relationship had taken a toll. During them, it was sour, but by now, it was spoiled. Max felt like no matter how cordial he was trying to be, Bradley still managed to find fault in whatever he said, and every single interaction they had ended with them arguing, or worse, fighting. But still, the senior weighed on his mind like a bag of bricks, one he couldn't seem to get rid of, no matter how hard he had tried.
He was devastated. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with a reason as of why did Bradley hate him so much. And that hurt. It didn't at first, but with time, Goof had grown attracted to the guy, no matter how sour their relationship was, no matter how he treated him, not mattering anything more than his desire to get to know the real him, the one no one truly knew. He hoped someday, Bradley would let down his barriers.
Sometimes, in class, he'd catch the senior staring at him, looking at him like he was a diamond in the rough. But that look only lasts for a fleeting moment, like it had never existed in the first place, leaving Max confused, questioning whether he was seeing things in his delusion.
He saw in the distance PJ and Bobby making their way through the crowd, looking around, probably searching for him. He sighed relieved. He was out with his friends, to have fun, get drunk, get high and forget everything and everyone for the night, and that's what he was gonna do. His moping could wait until morning. He stopped dancing and waved at them, jogging their way.
"Heeeey, Max-a-million!" Bobby said, emphazising every syllable. "We were looking all over for you my man!" He put an arm around Max's shoulder, while PJ nodded frantically.
"Where' you been? We turned around for two seconds and you just poofed!" PJ said, laughing. "You weren't looking for a certain ex Gamma, were you?" P.J wiggled his eyebrows and Bobby snickered.
"Psh! As if... I just wanted to dance a little" He giggled, somewhat absent-mindedly.
"Maaaan, you're high." Bobby remarked, cackling. As if Max didn't know that already. He was pretty tipsy and stoned, but not near enough to be a burden. Yet.
"But i'm not drunk enough. Let's go get a drink." Goof said, grinning, and both friends laughed. This was their night.
They reached the bar, an improvised one, clearly, the bar was just a long table, and the drinks were just beer cans in coolers, but you gotta work with what you have. Bobby and PJ both took their respective cans, Max got close to the bar and was gonna do the same, but a couple of girls passing by took his attention.
"Oh my gosh, what the heck is he doing here?" said a blonde one, rolling her eyes with disdain.
"I know right. Bradley was always such an attention whore." Answered her friend, snickering. Max almost dropped his can. Had he heard right? Bradley was here? Of all places? He was starting to panic, he felt his heart race and his face flush.
"Maxi-ooo, what're you waitin' for?" He heard Bobby calling, he turned around and his friends were staring at him, expectantly. He hesitated. He got out that day to breathe. To not think about Bradley. Was he going to go look for him? "Hellooooo...?" Bobby's voice brought him back.
"Uh yeah, you know? You guys go ahead, I'm uh... pissing myself." He answered nonchalantly.
"Eugh, T.M.I Max." P.J said, scrunching his face. "Allright, we'll be at the dance floor, come look for us when you're done!" And they both left, swaying their bodies to the music.
"Alright." He thought. "Time to clear up my doubts." So he made his way through the crowd, looking for Bradley. If he didn't see him, he was going to make him.
Bradley was searching frantically in the sea of people, but the cacophony of sounds was making him dizzy, even though he hadn't had a single drop of alcohol. He recognised the song as ABBA's Angeleyes. "An 80s themed party, great." He thought. Every step he took was another gossip, another stare, another mock. People were placing their eyes on him, but not in the way he was okay with. He tried to pay no mind, but the anguish was overbearing.
It was getting hard to breathe. Not only because of his insecurity, but he was getting squished by tits, butts and hips, but he wasn't going to give up. Not this easily. He looked around, and could see in the distance Max's idiotic friends.
"Bingo." He thought. He got closer, bumping with everyone and getting even more glares his way, but when he got close enough, he was disappointed to see that the two mofos were on their own. Without Goof. "God fucking dammit." He clenched his fists, almost hurting himself. His teeth ground together; he was incomprehensibly livid.
He scoffed, making his way out of the crowd of people, clearly hitting some in the process, getting even more curses from others, which just spoiled his mood even more. The freshman was not there, where the fuck could he be? And why was he so mad? He could've also given his friends a piece of his mind, they were part of Max's team after all. But for some reason, he didn't want to. It didn't make sense to him to go bother anyone else but Max. Why? His anger grew by the second. He made his way out of the frat house, swearing under his breath.
He reached the entrance, where a couple of people could be seen. Some making out, some just talking, some saying nothing at all. He sat down on the stairs. He was frustrated. He could go back inside to look for him again, but what was the point? And if he saw him, what would he even say? 'Hey freshman, I just saw your story, you were clearly mocking me, fuck you!'?
He just came to realize, he didn't even know why he was there in the first place. He didn't know what to say to him, or even if to say something at all, he just got mad and didn't even bother to think from there. As per usual.
He rummaged through his pants and got his cigarettes and a lighter. He needed this one. A guilty addiction of his that, if his parents were to find out, he wouldn't even live to tell. But then again, he wouldn't even talk to them lately, not after the failure his life had become. He had enough on his plate as is. He brought the cig to his lips, flicked the lighter and took a deep drag. He felt all his problems leaving with the smoke he let out. Whereas, he knew it was just a placebo.
He didn't know what he wanted from the freshman. He didn't think about it much, to be honest; he felt like under a spell, his mind always wandering around Max Goof, never really figuring out why.
"Tsk." He clicked his tongue in annoyance, self-discovering was never his sort of thing. He always thought it bothersome. He angrily took a puff, feeling liberated, but only for a moment. The music felt so distant. He was almost dissociating with the world, thinking hard of a reason why he can't fathom the thought of leaving the freshman alone.
"Brad?" He heard behind him. He knew who it was.
He turned around to see none other than Max Goof, the sovereign ruler of his thoughts. He was standing a few feet away, with a confused but flushed look. He had on the Powerline t-shirt he had seen on his story, now fully revealed, and it definitely was five sizes too big for him. He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts, with... fishnet stockings underneath. He held his breath as he felt his face getting hot. He tried to shush away those thoughts.
"Freshman." He hissed with disdain, trying to recompose himself, begging for the long haired guy not to notice. He took another puff, maybe it would help him to keep his cool. He would have to try harder than that though. He looked at Max with fire on his eyes. "Don't call me that."
"Sorry." The freshman sat down next to him, but keeping his distance. Bradley rolled his eyes and Max was just thinking how pretty they looked beneath the moonlight. He could hear the chorus of ABBA's song faintly, 'look into his angel eyes, one look and you're hipnotised', which he thought was very fitting. Bradley suddenly got up. "Wait, where' you going?" He got up as well, out of reflex.
"Not your business, freshman." Bradley felt stupid. He got out of his way to come here looking for Goof, but the moment he appeared before him, he runs away, like a dumbass. "You're a fucking coward." He thinks. He scoffed as he put out his cigarette on the stairs railing, throwing the butt on a nearby trashcan, not before making sure it was completely put out.
It was things like those that lured Max to Bradley. The small things. How the senior put on a tough and snobby exterior, to then caring about littering. He didn't know what to make of the guy, but he surely wanted to see more of him. But he couldn't if Bradley kept shutting him off.
"Bradley, I just want to know why you hate me so much. I want to understand. Maybe we can come to an agreement...?" Max started, while the senior got away to the parking lot, and he followed close behind. He felt silly, going after someone like him, when in the past he swore he would never get too into someone again. But alas, life is never what we want it to be, it's what the heart wants it to be.
Bradley felt something snap inside him. Come to an agreement he says? Is he serious? The blue-eyed guy turned around, looking at him bewildered.
"You want to know why I hate you so much?" Max nodded enthusiastically. "You fucking ruined me." Bradley looked at him dead in the eyes. "And I fucking hate you for it." The senior came closer, and pushed him violently to a nearby car.
"Hey!" Max yelled as Bradley grabbed him by his t-shirt, and the freshman grabbed his hands, trying to get him off of him. "Wuh-we can talk it out!" But he wasn't really sure they could.
"As if!" Bradley locked eyes with him, fiercely. "You have no idea what I've been through since you got here, freshman. Don't talk like you know me." He almost spat out his words.
"What is wrong with you?!" Max was starting to get upset as well. How couldn't he? He was being shoved around like a fucking puppet, hate being directed at him without knowing the reason.
"I wish I fucking knew, freshman!!" He tightened his grip, shaking him. "Everyone fucking hates me here!"
"And whose fault is that, huh?!" And Bradley saw red. He took Max and threw him to a car next to them, and the freshman was livid. Max lunged at him full force, pushing the senior to the ground in the process. "What's your fucking deal, Uppercrust?! Why is it so hard for you to fucking talk things out, like a human being?!"
"You!!" He yelled, a torrent of anger filling him. He felt he deserved it if Max punched him, it would hurt, yes, it would hurt, yes, but not as much as he was already hurting. Max looked at him, firmly and still pissed. "You're my fucking problem! I just can't get you out of my fucking mind!" With those words, Max's eyes opened wide, and his grip on him loosened significantly, he felt the heat on his face. Huh?
"Wuh-what? What do you mean?" Bradley sighed, annoyed. How could he begin to explain something he himself didn't even understood?
"What I said, freshman. You're always on my mind. It drives me crazy how I have to always pick on you for you to give me the time of day. You ruined my life and you act as if I don't even exist! You run past me and you don't even spare me a fucking glance! What am I supposed to do?!" He cried, he really didn't like when his emotions talked before him, but it was too late.
Something clicked inside Max's head. He felt sobering up. He let out a soft 'oh', sign of understanding, and he felt the heat rising. He was now utterly and completely embarrassed. "Uhm, right." He said, while he let go of his grip of Bradley's sweater, leaving the blue-eyed guy confused. He then got up, and extended a hand to him, avoiding eye contact. The senior hesitated, but took his hand in the end, getting up as well. Max cleared his throat. "So you're saying... That you can't seem to stop thinking about me?" The freshman crossed his arms, finally meeting the other's eyes.
"That's what I said." He spat out, venomously. He didn't appreciate repeating himself.
"Right, uh." Max cleared his throat again. "And you don't know why that is?"
"Yeah?" Bradley scoffed, exasperated. "Get to the fucking point, freshman."
"Sorry, sorry, it's just that... It's the same for me. And it's because uhm..." He took a deep breath. "I like you." The blue-eyed guy looked at him, astonished, but Max averted his gaze, cheeks red. He, for once, was at a loss for words. He what? Liked him? Him? Of all people...? Why?
"You're joking." Bradley managed to say.
"Why would I be?" They locked eyes, brown and blue met, catiously, careful not to scare the other away. Max sighed, shuffling in place, not really knowing where to place his hands.
"Because." Bradley started. "Just because! It doesn't make any sense!" He got riled up. He felt sweat running down his forehead; he made his best effort to style his hair slightly, trying to make the movement look natural. He thought it didn't. He thought he looked dumb.
"Well, there are several things about us that don't make sense." Max remarked, with a light grin on his face. The senior felt himself red with anger.
"Are you mocking me, freshman? Is this because of the games?" Bradley criticized. "Is this some kind of psycho way of yours to try and get into my head? To make me pay for what I did to you?" He got closer to Max, trying to intimidate him. It didn't work very well, though.
Max got offended. Did he really think he was capable of something like that? "Is that you, or your inferiority complex talking?" He looked him dead in the eyes. Bradley forgot to breathe. "Not everyone is out to get you, Bradley!"
"But they are!" He cried, making Max flinch. He had hit a nerve. "Everyone is! Since the games, I've been ostracized by all of you!" He felt a knot in his troath forming. "I've been alone, all these months, and I get it! I really do! I'm honestly the worst! And..." His breathing got unsteady, and he lowered his voice. "And the worst part is, I can't possibly convey with words how awful I've felt all this time." He sat down, back against the car. "How awful I feel every fucking day. Like it's not enough. And it will never be."
Max looked at him, eyes glazed, looking pained at the sight of Bradley's eyes, with tears that threatened to spill that he probably hadn't noticed yet. He scurried and sat down next to him.
"And you... you've got it all. Loyal friends, talent, skills, wits, a loving fa... father. And I just... don't." He sniffled. "I don't have anything. Not anymore. I had it all, and because of my..." He swallowed with a bit of difficulty. "Selfishness... I ruined it all. And I tried to take you down with me. To the darkest pits of hell." He felt his heart shrinking with every word that came out of his lips. He was never one to vent, Christ, he was never one to open up at all. But it felt right. It was right. He kept telling himself that in his mind, feeling ashamed of his vulnerability. "And you're just such a... Goof. You turned my life upside down, and I hate you for it, even if I know I shouldn't because it's not right. I'm just so angry at you, how you don't even notice me unless I pick a fight with you. How I'm now invisible even to you. I can't stand it. I can take it from everyone else, just... Not from you." He tried not to look at Max in the eye, as it would just break him even more.
But that thought didn't last long. He felt the freshman's hand placing in his, and he was forced to look at him. But what he saw was Max's face approaching, and he felt a light peck on his cheek. He was dumbfounded and looked at him as the brown-eyed guy pulled away. He had a glint of melancholy in his eyes, but he was smiling shyly and blushing. He thought it was a sight for sore eyes.
"Sorry I, uh, got caught in the moment." Bradley exhaled, annoyed.
"Were you even listening?"
"Yes! I was, I promise! I'm sorry!" Max blushed, ashamed for not having any self-control. "I had no idea you felt that way... But then again, I had no idea about anything about you."
"It's alright..." Bradley felt himself flushing with embarrasment as well, but his gaze darkened slightly. "I can't blame you. I'm not the nicest person around."
Max chuckled a bit. "A bit, yeah." He looked at Bradley. "But I like that about you, as well." And he made Bradley look at him, still blushing.
"You're still on with that?! It's not funny!"
"C'mon Brad, really?! I kissed you!"
"On the cheek! Doesn't mean anything! And don't call me that." He got defensive.
"It's still a kiss! Do I have to kiss you in the mouth for it to mean anything?" Max got dangerously closer to him.
"Nuh-no! Don't you dare! I got the memo." He averted his eyes, but Max could see the doubt in them still.
"What's wrong?" He asked, clearly worried.
"It's just... It's hard. I can't convey my feelings right, this is all new to me, and I haven't considered liking a guy since..." He got silent, and with Bradley, silence was never a good sign. Max nonetheless, waited for him to continue. "Since I was a kid." The senior felt a sense of relief when he finally said it, after years of trying to bury the memory.
"Did... Did something happen?" Bradley stared at him, but without truly seeing him. Max sensed him tense up.
His mind wandered back to those spring days, in elementary school; the first person who managed to catch his attention. It was a boy. At that age, he had no idea of the societal norms or what was considered normal within his peers when it came to love, and he didn't care. Not until one day, when he slipped up. He made a love letter. He put his heart into it, words of love and admiration that came from his young and naive heart. However, Bradley learned the hard way that children can be cruel and ruthless to anyone who's different to them. So that day was forever anchored in his memory.
"They found out I liked another boy at school." He sighed, looking for his cigarette pack in his pockets. "They were merciless. And not just the kids." He said, eyes lost in the freshman's. "I grew up with very strict rules to follow, in a pretty conservative household. My parents were clearly not on my side... Well, you can guess the rest." He stated, bitterly. He clenched his fists, reminising those times. "It was pretty though." He took a puff, exhaling to his left so the smoke didn't reach his companion.
Max stared, at a loss for words. Bradley averted his gaze, lazily playing with his lighter. "I had no idea." Max finally managed to say.
"No one does." He was exhasperated at how much he was revealing about himself, to his former rival of all people. "I don't do this. I don't do corny stuff, I don't vent, I don't talk, I don't revisit past trauma. I just don't." He sighed, defeated. "All my life I had to be perfect, so what's the point in showing weakness?"
"You're perfect for me." Max said, catching the senior off guard. "And talking about it doesn't make you weak." Bradley looked at him, and Max smiled weakly, but genuinely. Bradley returned the gesture.
"Far from it, actually. Last time I checked, I almost killed Tank." He sombered.
"Not intentionally."
"Did I stutter to just leave him there?" He exhaled. "I'm not a good person, Max. Maybe I was in the past, but it's been long since I've forgotten how to."
"I can help you remember."
Bradley looked at him in awe.
"We're all hurting, in a way. Some more, others less, but letting someone know it's a step closer to healing. Max smiled, and Bradley felt butterflies. "You don't deserve being treated this way, now matter what you did or didn't do in the past." The senior looked down, contemplating his words.
They both sat in silence, Bradley feeling kind of awkward, but hopeful. "Do you really think so?"
"I know so. I know what is like to be cast aside by everyone, to feel lonely... To feel like there is nobody by your side." Bradley looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You?" He said, not buying it. "How? Since you arrived you've turned heads everywhere you went. Everybody either wants to be you or be with you."
"Yeah?" Max raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "And which one are you?"
"Mmph-! That's not important, is it? I asked first!" Max thought Bradley's blushing face was so pretty. Even more because it was thanks to him.
"Well, I was kind of a goof back in highschool." Bradley chuckled.
"You still are."
"Shut up. I was even more of a goof. The only people I had beside me were P.J, Bobby and my dad. Back then I didn't realize that it was the only thing I needed, though." Max smiled, nostalgia hitting him. "I did some dumb shit back then, and lied to get my way everytime." He grimaced. "So now I take it much easier. I think I grew past that." He chuckled. "At least I'd like to believe I did."
Bradley smirked. Max did the same. They looked at eachother's eyes for a little while, Bradley might not be much of a share-his-feelings kinda guy, but Goof could definitely feel the rush of love the senior's gaze emanated. He felt himself getting red. Bradley laughed slightly.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Bradley inquired.
"Yeah, how did you know?" Max got his face closer.
"Wait, really? And you're telling me just now?" He asked while he ran his hands all over his face, trying to get rid of whatever was stuck on it. "My god freshman, tell me where!"
"Right here..." Max got closer, pretending to check his face, but his gaze was fixed lower than his cheeks. He cupped Bradley's face with his hands, and, shyly, placed a brief kiss on his lips. When he pulled out, Max rubbed his hands on his elbows, feeling between awkward and embarrassed.
Bradley took his time to assimilate the situation. He just got kissed. By Max. A guy. Not any guy. Apparently his dream guy. God, it felt so right. It felt so wrong. They were both guys. He's his rival. Was his rival. It was so bad. It was so good. It was awful. It was perfect. Oh God. God. God. Is there really a God? Did they exist? If they existed why where they rewarding him like this? Why-
"Mmhf-!" Max couldn't even get to say anything, as he felt Bradley's lips crashing to his, hungrily, possesively. Bradley was ignoring completely what his brain screamed, and started listening what his heart desired, so he placed one arm on the freshman's hair, caressing it lovingly, and another on his waist. Max placed both of his on Bradley's waist. The kiss was long, desperate and passionate, filled with the longing and desire both had suppressed for so long (at least, the senior did the latter). The moment they shared was electric, sending shivers down Max's spine, as if every second of anticipation had been distilled into this one profound, lingering kiss. Max couldn't help himself when a soft moan escaped his lips, and Bradley thought he could die right there.
When the heat was palpable, and the oxygen was scarce, they both reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily, heads dizzy and wanting more. But as he was the first to initiate, Bradley was the first to pull himself away, letting his brain win the battle again.
"Oh my fucking god! Shit! I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! Fuck!" He brushed his hair with his hands, aggressively. Max grabbed both his hands.
"Bradley, hey! Look. Look at me." Max cried.
"No, shit! I- I'm sorry, I-!"
"Bradley." The freshman said softly. "Look at me." It wasn't a demand. It was a plead. "Please."
And he did. He looked at him. And it was the most breathtaking sight he could have ever witnessed. Max was not only red, he was flushing, deeply, as if every drop of blood had risen to his face, exhuming sex appeal. His lips were slightly parted, somewhat swollen from the earlier invasion of them, his cute little teeth gap showing. A timid drop of sweat could be seen trickling down his temple, and his eyes shone like nothing he had ever seen before. He was simply the most gorgeous guy he had ever seen. And he felt lucky. He felt oh so lucky to be beholding such beauty. Him. Only him.
"It's okay." Max stated. "You're okay. We're okay." And he smiled, the way that made Bradley go crazy. Before, crazy in anger, now crazy in love. But he knew it was always crazy in love.
"Uh-Alright." Bradley said softly, as the freshman placed his forehead on his. "Alright."
They sat there, in a peaceful silence. Hands interwined with one another, Bradley resting his head on Max's shoulder, both feeling too comfortable to move.
"For what's worth." The senior broke the silence. "I'm... I'm sorry. For everything." His words came out lower than he intended, almost like a whisper, but it was all it took. One step forward.
Max smiled widely, and Bradley almost melted. "I already forgave you a while ago." The senior returned the gesture.
They both could faintly hear the music coming from the frat house. People came and went, some in cars, others walking. The car they were leaning on stayed, fortunately.
Max then, perked up suddenly, he recognised the tune that started playing like the palm of his hand. And he nudged Bradley, who, confused, stopped laying on Max.
"Oh my gosh!" Cried the freshman as he got up. "C'mon Brad let's go!!" He was so excited, he took the senior's arm by force, not leaving room for him to reprimand him because of the nickname. They ran as fast as Max could inside the fraternity.
"Yes!" Max bounced up and down, excitedly. "We're just in time, c'mon!" He kept on pulling the senior, the latter not understandig the reason behind Max's excitement.
Before he could ask, they were between the crowd of people, making Bradley slightly anxious, he got a few disapproving glances along the way until they reached the middle of the dance floor.
"I absolutely love this song!" Max grinned widely, relieving Bradley of all of his stress. Max swayed his body, naturally. The choreography was embedded in his mind, knowing it by heart. Bradley couldn't help but smile at the sight, though he felt somewhat awkward not being able to keep up with his rythm.
"Is this Powerline?" He inquired, and the freshman squeaked as he nodded. He thought it was adorable. Max noticed Bradley's awkward movements and giggled.
The euphoria was cut short, though, when the senior felt the piercing and disapproving glares from the other people in the dance floor. He shrank a bit in his place, feeling now a tad uncomfortable.
"Uh-I don't think this is a good idea, Max." He felt himself as he didn't deserve to be there, dancing, gleefuly, with such an amazing guy. The freshman was quick to catch up to this. The music now feeling louder.
"Bradley." The mentioned locked eyes with him. "Don't look at them, don't let them bother you. Focus; it's just you, me, and the music tonight." And Bradley closed his eyes. He focused on the music, the rythm, the lyrics. They seemed to speak directly to him.
'Once you're watching every move that I make, you gotta believe that I got what it takes'
Bradley opened his eyes to Max dancing vigorously, and he thought the freshman was so good at almost everything; so good at skating, so good at dancing, so good at being himself. So good at being so fucking pretty.
'To stand out. Above the crowd, even if I gotta shout out loud.'
The senior started moving his hips, feeling the rythm to the bone, and Max sighed of relief, checking him out, he was not the best at freestyle, but he was the best at looking good while trying.
'Til mine is the only face you see. Gonna stand out.'
They both inched closer, perhaps intentionally, perhaps not, but Max seized the opportunity and took Bradley's hand in his own, making him spin slightly so that they ended up pressed against each other. Max placed his partner's hand on his waist and his own hands on Bradley's chest, leaning dangerously close to his face. "'Til you notice me." The freshman said alongside the lyrics, and god, Bradley thought it was cheesy as fuck, but also really, really hot. They both laughed, bodies still pressed together. The senior thought about it for a second, given where they were, but he hesitated no longer when he saw the playful smile on Max's face. Without warning, he took the leap and, slowly, leaned in and kissed him, without caring how many glances were directed at them.
When their lips separated, they both chuckled faintly, lost in eachother's warmth. Bradley still had a long way to go to fully recover, but Max would be there for him no matter what. They both got lost in themselves and were ready to dance the night away.
"Maaaan, he's sure taking his time pissing." Said one confused Bobby. "Ya' think he's taking a dump-o?" He asked P.J, who was drinking from his third can of beer. Both sitting at their table.
"Bobby. I don't wanna know." The black haired guy reprimanded, with a look of disgust in his face. "Maybe he's outside smoking the blunt we made earlier."
"Without me?! If he is he's gonna geeet iiit!"
"Uh-huh." He replied, disinterested. "Like you don't have a ballilion more."
"Buddy I wiiish..." He simulated melting in his seat.
"He missed Powerline by a landslide. Someone's gonna be pissy when we tell him." They both snickered maliciously.
"Man, he's gonna kill us, then revive us to kill us again. Maaybeee he's drunk crying in the bathroom over Bradley again, let's go drag him here before he embarrasses himself further if he is." The redhead proposed. P.J nodded in agreement, remembering that night some time ago.
"Ugh, I hope not, he was unbearable last time, I swear those two love going back and forth." He rolled his eyes. "Let me finish my can real quick." P.J. turned his gaze to the dance floor. He then saw Max! And... Oh God, about time! He shook Bobby next to him, who, as he was sipping his beer, got it spilled on.
"Agh! Brooo, not cool!"
"Bobby! Look! Finally!" P.J pointed to the dance floor, in which Bobby could see (as best as he could) Max dancing with Bradley!
"It's a Christmas miracle! Yeaaaah, Max-maaan!" Bobby celebrated. "Get it booooy, whoooo!" He stood up in his seat and started dancing. P.J laughed loudly.
"They sure stand out, huh." And Bobby agreed with a loud cheer.