Fic: Take You Away (5)
Just once, Kevin wants to wake up with Maxim still in his bed. He just so wants to have Maxim still in his arms, be able to kiss him awake and hold him close, isn’t asking for very much, really. He stayed awake as late as he could last night, just memorizing the way it felt, Maxim heavy in his arms, clinging to him even in sleep. Kevin just - doesn’t like waking up without his Maxim, missing out on a chance to hold him, wants to have him back as soon as possible.
Maxim isn’t anywhere in the room, so Kevin gets dressed and goes downstairs. He finds Maxim sitting with Ryan and Alex, at a table in the corner. Alex and Ryan are both having breakfast, talking like always, Maxim sitting silently beside Alex. Kevin takes the empty chair, looks to Maxim. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks.
“Oh,” Maxim glances up briefly, then away, “I, um. I don’t. Didn’t - think of it.”
“Did you eat already?” Kevin asks, and Maxim shakes his head no. “Wanna go up and see if there’s anything left?” He looks pointedly at Alex’s full plate, which is demonstrating Alex’s perplexing ability to eat a truly staggering amount of food.
“I’m not hungry,” Maxim nearly mumbles, too quiet. Kevin frowns.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, and Maxim’s still not really looking at him.
“I think I’m gonna head back upstairs.”
“Okay, I”ll be up in a few.” He watches Maxim leave, debates asking Ryan and Alex if they know anything, but they’re so wrapped up in each other, they probably didn’t even notice Maxim leaving. It’s just not something Kevin can ever understand, how anyone can know Maxim and not be unable to take their eyes off him. He goes to grab a bagel and coffee for himself, and looks around for a croissant to take up to Maxim, his favourite breakfast thing. He can’t find any, so he stops at the lobby Starbucks to grab one before going upstairs.
“Hey,” he says as he goes in, Maxim looking up at him from the bed that wasn’t slept in. “Found you something,” he says brightly, and Maxim bites his lip, looks sorry.
“Thank you,” he says, just so quiet, “I’m just not hungry.”
“I know we’re in Dallas, but it’s probably still edible,” he teases, hopes Maxim will smile, tell him you’ll never be a food snob.
“I just. Don’t feel that great,” Maxim mumbles, eyes down. Kevin sets everything down on the dresser, goes to feel Maxim’s forehead. Maxim looks up at him, dark eyes filled with an uneasy something Kevin can’t identify.
“Are you sure?” Kevin asks, leans down and kisses Maxim’s forehead. He knows he’s not supposed to do things like that, but Maxim’s not acting like himself, Kevin wants to hold him and stroke his back and keep him warm under the covers.
Maxim nods, and he’s sliding off the bed before Kevin can do anything else, definitely won’t be able to hold him now.
“I’ll be back later,” he says, “I promised Cory I’d - help him fix it suitcase-” he’s slowly getting closer to the door, and then he’s gone, the room so silent. Kevin sighs out a breath, just has his breakfast and tries not to wonder if Maxim really is fine, can’t do anything but miss him.
Maxim’s quiet during morning skate and lunch with the team and the game, too, and he’s always kind of quiet, but not like this, not to Kevin. He’s something else to Kevin, is sarcastic humour and sudden reveals of how really smart he is, and it’s all just for Kevin, but - but not today. Today, he gets what everyone else does, nothing.
He doesn’t like this, uncertainty where he shouldn’t even have to think, being so afraid Maxim won’t sit next to him on the plane, will stay like this, so far away from him. He gets on the plane after Maxim, and Maxim isn’t where they normally sit, he’s sitting near the back, next to a window.
“Hey,” Kevin comes to sit next to him, hates the doubt that makes him move slowly, waiting for some kind of adverse reaction.
“Hi.” Maxim looks up at him for a moment, then away again. Kevin waits a while, until they’ve been in the air for ten minutes, the cabin dark and quiet.
“You want to watch a movie or something?” he ventures, because this usually gets him a whole slew of comments, Maxim’s critique of suggestions as serious as if he were evaluating them for awards, and Kevin loves it when he gets lucky and suggests something that Maxim blushingly admits he loves. He likes documentaries, thrillers, and some of the most ridiculous romantic comedies Kevin’s ever seen.
“I kinda just want to sleep,” Maxim says quietly, glances up at Kevin like he’s pleading for permission. Kevin smiles, grabs a pillow from the overhead compartment and pushes up the armrest between them.
“C’mere,” he says, probably too soft, but he just really wants Maxim to do just one normal thing, just give him something to promise he’s okay. And Maxim - he hesitates, for the briefest moment, and Kevin’s about to panic when Maxim finally scoots over, adjusts the pillow against Kevin’s shoulder and leans against him.
“Thanks,” he says quietly. Kevin wants so badly to put his arms around Maxim, settles for pressing a kiss to his hair.
“Anytime.” Maybe they’re okay. They have to be okay. Maxim’s just - he does this, sometimes. Never to Kevin, he never gets quiet and unhappy with Kevin, but - there’s a first time for everything, and they have to be okay. Maxim doesn’t fall asleep, though, keeping shifting restlessly, and Kevin can tell that even when he’s still, he’s awake. Kevin turns towards him a little, strokes his fingertips over Maxim’s neck, as gentle as he’s always wanted to be, wishes he had full permission to do everything he wants. He wants to hug Maxim close and kiss his cheek and he just really wants to hold Maxim, have the morning he keeps being robbed of. “What’s wrong, Maxi?” he whispers. Maxim shakes his head, doesn’t look up.
“I don’t know,” he says, so miserable, like he’s answering a different question entirely. Kevin just doesn’t know what to do, if he’s even allowed to do anything at all - is Maxim mad at him? Did he do something wrong? Was it him at all, or was it someone else, did someone say something to upset him? Fuck, no one have better dared - is Maxim upset about something, is he sick, is he hurt, please don’t let him be any of those things, but he obviously is, something’s wrong, Kevin wishes Maxim would tell him, and how could Maxim not know what’s wrong, he just wants Maxim to tell him so he can make it better, but - but he can’t say that, they’re just friends, he’s supposed to be just friends, but fuck, he just wants his Maxim to be happy, needs that, loves him so much that this hurts more than anything else ever has, seeing Maxim so upset kills him. He just - doesn’t know what to do, all the things he wants to say so obviously not okay, can’t tell Maxim don’t be upset, let me fix it, I love you. Maxim’s still so quiet, the way he isn’t supposed to be, not with Kevin, he doesn’t have to be with Kevin.
Kevin reaches over to hold Maxim’s hand, strokes his thumb over the back of Maxim’s hand gently. “Can I help?” he asks, wants to beg. Maxim just shakes his head no, makes this whimpery little sound that breaks Kevin so many times over. He’s letting Kevin hold his hand, though, that’s something, has to be something, but it’s really not enough, Kevin can’t stand this, he can’t. Fuck the just-friends rules, Maxim’s so upset, Kevin can’t handle it, and pulls Maxim into his arms. Maxim comes surprisingly willingly, turns his face against Kevin’s neck and clings to his shirt. “You know I’d do anything for you?” Kevin says softly, “you just have to ask.” Let me fix it, he wants to beg. He must have done something, it must be his fault, why can’t he help.
“I know,” Maxim says, like this is something terrible, like he wishes it wasn’t true.
“Is it - is it me?” Kevin asks uneasily, but Maxim shakes his head immediately.
“No - Kev, no - it’s nothing. But it’s not you.”
Kevin wants to be relieved, wants to know that everything’s okay, but he’s just so fucking scared. He holds Maxim close and nuzzles against him, never wants to let go because today was so terrifying, he thought he was losing Maxim even as a friend, and he’s not going to live through this if he can’t at least hold Maxim, have him here just for a while. Maxim’s so quiet, why, why - Kevin rests his cheek against the top of Maxim’s head, only barely able to resist kissing him.
“Does this make it feel any better?” he asks, and the hope hurts. He strokes Maxim’s back, hopes he’ll say yes, because if it was Kevin upset, and if Maxim held him like this, everything would be better, nothing could ever be wrong.
“No,” Maxim says, but he’s still clinging, face buried against Kevin’s neck. Kevin wants to die, knows he’s not good enough to fix everything, but just wishes so badly he was.
“Oh, Maxi,” he hugs Maxim tight, wishes he knew what was wrong. When Maxim looks up, Kevin brushes a kiss to his lips, wishes Maxim was like him, that this would make everything better, that he really wanted this.
Maxim doesn’t move for the rest of the flight, just lets Kevin hold him, and maybe it’s more for Kevin than him, but he really wants to believe he can comfort Maxim just a little.
He has to leave Maxim when they get back to Vancouver, and it’s unbearable, Maxim leaving without him. They didn’t drive to the airport together, because Maxim had things to do, errands Kevin would have accompanied him on happily if he’d asked. Kevin can’t live with this, though, so he takes his housekey off his keyring and goes over to Maxim’s apartment.
“Um, hi,” Maxim says when he opens the door.
“I forgot my housekey,” Kevin explains, can’t stop hoping this means he’ll get to stay here. He wants even more to end up in the same bed as Maxim, get to hold him.
“That sucks.” Maxim lets him in, but then goes over to the little keyrack by the door, picks one out and hands it over. Kevin recognizes it as the spare to his apartment, not what he was hoping for at all.
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” He was just - hoping for something else. So much else. “Thanks.”
“So… see you at practice, then,” Maxim says when Kevin doesn’t move.
“Okay.” He just wants Maxim to change his mind, say stay, say fix everything for me, anything, he just doesn’t want Maxim to say he has to leave.
Kevin goes back home, finds that it’s suddenly a lot harder to sleep without Maxim.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Alex thought it was bad just knowing Ryan loves someone else. That’s nothing, though, nothing like hearing Ryan talk about him, this perfect person who must be better than Alex because he has Ryan, someone only perfection deserves. Alex can’t stop thinking about it, about Ryan being hopelessly in love with someone, rather be hurt by him than happy with anyone else - anyone else like Alex, and fuck, when Ryan said he thinks about it, them being together, Alex doesn’t know how he managed not to start sobbing, because just the thought of it makes tears burn at his eyes. He’d be easy, be second choice, and he’d take that in a heartbeat if he didn’t know it was Ryan giving up on the person he really loves.
He’s curled in against Ryan’s side on the plane, Ryan already asleep, hand on Alex’s arm. Everything about Ryan touching him, it hurts, how much Alex loves it, hates knowing it’s not really for him. It was hard enough just practicing, knowing that when Ryan kissed him, it was for someone else. It’s so much worse now, because when Ryan draws Alex into his arms just to sleep, surely thinking of someone else, this is what Alex wants, he wants it for himself, clings too tight because he’s just so afraid of the day the rightful owner takes this from him. And he can’t - he can’t do that anymore, or at least not today, because Ryan can’t know. He can’t know, can’t find out, can’t suspect that every time he says anything sweet, Alex wants to die from how badly he wishes it was for him. I love him, Ryan had said, and Alex had been so close to crying, begging why don’t you love me, and oh, God, sometimes I think we’d be great together, but they wouldn’t be, they’d be Ryan settling for easy and willing and Alex hating himself for keeping Ryan from having who he really wants.
He finally does fall asleep, only to be woken up less than an hour later, more exhausted than when he fell asleep. “Wake up, babe,” Ryan whispers, kisses the top of his head. Alex whimpers, something tight and splintering in his chest, he can’t handle this, Ryan being sweet to him for someone else. Ryan kisses him when he looks up, soft and sleepy, and he’s stroking Alex’s arm so slowly, he must be half asleep and thinking of that guy he loves, who he thinks he could never touch.
He always, always goes home with Ryan after roadtrips, but maybe he’d end up in Ryan’s bed this time, not just the guest room, and oh, Alex wouldn’t be able to take it. Ryan being in his bed, in the same hotel bed, Alex can manage, but being in Ryan’s, it would feel all the more real, and it’d be so much more clear that none of this is Alex’s. He just - he won’t do that to himself, he won’t be the wrong person in Ryan’s bed, it’ll make him cry and Ryan just can’t know that.
“Can you, euh, to be to dropping me off, at home? Instead?” he asks as they leave the airport, and he always used to love the drive back to Ryan’s, just them in the quiet car, empty streets and no one around. He always liked how it felt, going home with Ryan.
“Why?” Ryan asks, glances over at him in surprise. Alex looks away.
“I just - have things to do, tomorrow, very early.”
“I don’t mind getting up early to take you home,” Ryan says. It’s tempting, it always is, and Alex can see it, going to Ryan’s apartment and crawling into his bed, Ryan pulling him close and kissing him and holding him all night, waking Alex up to kiss him, tell him I love you - and that’s the problem, it always is, because when Alex imagines it, he thinks of what he wants, not what he has. If he does go, Ryan will say something sweet and Alex will cry, know it’s not for him, and Ryan just can’t know what all this is doing to Alex.
“It’s okay,” Alex mumbles, “I’ll just - going home.”
“Okay,” Ryan says, sounds almost confused by this, like he can’t figure out why Alex doesn’t want to do what they always do. It’s - it’s not what they always do, though, it’s so close to what Alex wants that it makes him painfully sure Ryan is it for him, the only one he wants. Ryan reaches over and takes his hand, squeezes gently, and Alex has to look away so Ryan can’t see tears fill his eyes, but still holds on tight. He wants things that aren’t his, and that’s why he always ends up here, so close he knows what it would feel like, knows he needs Ryan, always, always will.
Alex doesn’t like being dropped off at home. It feels like way back when they met, when they drove to the airport together but he didn’t yet sleep at Ryan’s, before he learned almost everything there is to know about Ryan, before he realised he’d met the only person he’ll love like this. Part of it feels the same, though, because he still thinks I don’t want to leave, aches to stay. It’s worse now, though, so much harder to leave and so much more necessary, because Ryan kisses his hand before letting go.
It feels like he hasn’t slept alone in so, so long, and when he’s lying in bed by himself, he just - oh, he hates it. He hates not having Ryan here, stroking his back and holding him close, kissing his hair and - and saying I love him, not Alex, someone else who’s better than him. Alex can’t stand it, thinking about Ryan kissing someone else, someone else knowing all the little sounds he makes and the way he kisses in the morning and how soft and vulnerable this guy makes him - Alex doesn’t trust this guy with that, doesn’t want him to know that Ryan, because - because no one can love Ryan as much as Alex does, he doesn’t want that place to belong to anyone else.
But, oh, all the things Ryan said, Alex wishes they were for him, and he just really wishes Ryan was here, wishes Ryan wanted to be here for him. Alex hates it when he starts to cry, but even as he’s glad Ryan isn’t here to see, he also just misses Ryan so, so badly.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
The next day, Maxim wakes up early and spends his extra time trying to think of an excuse to skip practice. Five times, he nearly decides to call in and take a maintenance day, but the memory of last time he did that stops him. Last time, he was still feeling a hit from the game the night before, and Kevin showed up after practice - kind of early, really, Maxim suspected he snuck out - and came to watch movies with him and remind him to put ice on his bruises and didn’t mind when Maxim fell asleep on his shoulder. He can’t take a maintenance day to avoid Kevin, surely Kevin would show up here anyways, be so sweet to him and just hurt him with it so, so much. This - this thing they have now, it’s just lighthearted and fun to Kevin, but Maxim’s so fucking in love with Kevin that every little kiss just makes him want more, want promises he has no right to ask for. Kevin’s just so laidback and easygoing, he can do this, add touches into everything they normally do and not be like Maxim, hopeless and in way too deep. To Kevin, it’s just something fun to do when they’re drunk, easy fooling around, and it’s ruining Maxim, wanting things that mean far too much, aren’t meant for him.
He goes to practice, tries not to be early so there won’t be much time to talk beforehand. Kevin’s already at his stall beside Maxim’s, smiles when he walks up.
“Hey, how’re you?” he says, and God, Maxim wants Kevin to kiss him, but that’s not enough, that’s the problem. He wants Kevin to kiss him, but also hug him close and stroke his hair and do all those little things that would mean just way too much.
“Good,” Maxim replies quietly, can’t take this, Kevin’s gaze is on him and Maxim just loves him so fucking much and he’s not supposed to, but Kevin’s perfect, how could he not? “You?”
“Yeah, I’m good too,” Kevin says, his eyes still on Maxim, but everything’s wrong, why does he look - look scared? Is he worried Maxim’s going to do something wrong? Maxim goes to his stall, doesn’t say anything more, wishes Kevin would pull him close and kiss him, let Maxim nuzzle against him and just not let go.
He doesn’t have to talk during practice, at least, but before it’s even over yet, he’s worried about afterwards. He rushes off the ice and gets dressed quickly, but he can’t hide from Kevin, too close to him and too unwilling to completely go through with it.
“Hey!” Kevin says. Maxim’s buttoning up his shirt, fumbles with he hears Kevin’s voice. “Did you have breakfast?”
“Um.” He tried, at least, couldn’t really handle much. “Yeah.”
“Want to go to lunch?” Kevin asks. Maxim wants to say yes, but - but he can’t, he really can’t, what if Kevin realises how he’s just too into all this? Even now, Kevin’s hair is still dripping from the shower and Maxim wants so badly to kiss his neck, right where the water drops trail down.
“I’m, um. Busy,” he mumbles.
“Oh,” Kevin says, sounds disappointed. Maxim hangs his head, can’t look at him; fuck, he’s just the worst friend to Kevin, nothing like what Kevin deserves. He had to go and fall in love with Kevin, and now Maxim’s avoiding him, it’s all his fault. He’s failed as a friend, and he still wants Kevin to hold him and kiss his face, because he’s selfish, he’s heartless, and he still loves Kevin so, so much.