Yeah, and doesn't think about the people who love him either. A real dumb hero type. [He leans into Max's touch, his soft laughter and gentle touch of lips sends shivers down his spine. I can't lose you again, Max. I can't...but I know you can't really make that promise. You're the most stubborn, selfless person I know. I'm pretty sure it's in your DNA.
[They can joke about it now, but the memory still twists Michael's insides even with Max pressed close, warm, and very much alive. The nightmares still haunt him some nights, but Max doesn't need to know that. Instead, he turns into the kiss, fighting back the tears that sting behind his eyes.
When Max pulls away to set up for dinner he takes a moment to clear his throat before heading to the kitchen to serve the food. With more time he probably could have made something a little more impressive but Max was a steak and potatoes kind of guy, most of the time anyway.
Once dinner is served, he pours them each a small glass of bourbon and settles next to Max on the couch, close enough for their legs to touch, and he can feel the heat of Max's body through the fabric of his t-shirt. His body just gravitated towards his lover's naturally, always wanting to be close, to be touching. They didn't often get nights like this; Michael hadn't realized how much he wanted one until now.] I'm not sure this is quite up to candlelit dinner caliber but I don't hate it.
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Date: 2023-04-29 12:13 am (UTC)[They can joke about it now, but the memory still twists Michael's insides even with Max pressed close, warm, and very much alive. The nightmares still haunt him some nights, but Max doesn't need to know that. Instead, he turns into the kiss, fighting back the tears that sting behind his eyes.
When Max pulls away to set up for dinner he takes a moment to clear his throat before heading to the kitchen to serve the food. With more time he probably could have made something a little more impressive but Max was a steak and potatoes kind of guy, most of the time anyway.
Once dinner is served, he pours them each a small glass of bourbon and settles next to Max on the couch, close enough for their legs to touch, and he can feel the heat of Max's body through the fabric of his t-shirt. His body just gravitated towards his lover's naturally, always wanting to be close, to be touching. They didn't often get nights like this; Michael hadn't realized how much he wanted one until now.] I'm not sure this is quite up to candlelit dinner caliber but I don't hate it.