Fic: Take You Away (9)- part 1
Kevin hates this. He fucking hates waking up without Maxim, because he fell asleep in Maxim’s arms and now he’s gone. Kevin groans into his pillow, throws an arm out across the bed to feel, but the sheets are cold; Maxim wasn’t even here recently.
“Hey,” he hears, looks up and winces when he twists his back. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he pretended, but it’s still sore, enough that playing is probably out of the question. “How’re you feeling?” Maxim asks, and he’s sitting on the other bed, smiles at him.
“Fine.” He’d be so much better if Maxim had still been here, if just once, Kevin could be given something to keep, not given up by morning. He remembers the moment he realised he’d ruined everything with Maxim, when Maxim didn’t want to do anything with him anymore, when Kevin realised he had to be careful not to back Maxim into a corner where he has to lie to avoid spending time together, where seeing Kevin is insufferable, and that - that felt so bad, and waking up without Maxim is like reliving it over and over again. He always wants to ask why, beg to know what he did wrong, how it’s fair, to know what it feels like to touch Maxim and not be allowed to now, why he has to suffer through entirely new things he hates, like spending time without Maxim and having to wonder what they would be doing if they were together, and Kevin doesn’t want any of this to be real, but Maxim wants nothing to do with him, and it fucking hurts to realise it’s true. At least he has this now, at least he has this break from what he’s going to have to live with from now on.
“I got you breakfast,” Maxim tells him, and oh, thank God, this is almost as good as waking up with him, because at least Maxim’s still here, still babying him and being so sweet and paying attention to him. And Kevin’s just - really missed him, missed Maxim smiling at him and talking to him and being beside him, not ignoring him. And he’s afraid to ask for too much, because - because Maxim abandoned him, and being vulnerable is risking that again, and as much as Kevin loves this, he can’t trust it, can’t do anything but want as much as he can get while it lasts, because - because he knows, it’s not going to last long. Maxim hates him, is only pitying him now, couldn’t fucking stand Kevin two days ago, but at least Kevin has this, this last reminder of what they were. And he ruined it, of course he ruined it, telling Maxim ridiculous, overtly in-love things that Maxim doesn’t want because he fucking hates Kevin, but Kevin can’t take it back, he can’t take any of it back. Maxim’s kissed him, fell asleep beside him and fit perfectly against his side, looked at him with confusion, like he didn’t know why Kevin wasn’t holding him yet - and now, all Kevin can think about is the way Maxim’s going to want to be away from him as soon as this is over, doing all kinds of wrong things and just not wanting him.
He spends practice with the trainer, and he’s still going to sit out their next game, but after that, the trainer’s sure he’ll be good to play. He might play it up a little afterwards, though, because Maxim murmurs in sympathetic French and touches him gently, and he isn’t ignoring Kevin anymore and he’s here, sits beside him at lunch and on the bus, and he takes the seat beside Kevin on the plane, too, like it’s his, and Kevin’s missed Maxim belonging right next to him. There was - was kissing Maxim and holding his hand and getting to kiss him when Kevin thought he never would again - and it was all a mistake, they could have gotten past a one-time mistake, but Kevin did this, broke them like this, and he’s just so fucking frustrated with how stupid he was - why can’t he just - just still have Maxim? How could he have done this? He put them here, somewhere Maxim’s only around out of pity, and all today’s doing is showing Kevin just what he’s lost.
It’s just because he’s injured, he reminds himself, as Maxim pushes up the armrest absent-mindedly, Maxim’s only doing this because he’s injured and Maxim feels bad for him, taking a break from hating him. Fuck, but Kevin hates this, this crushingly defeated acceptance of the fact that Maxim really hates him. It doesn’t so much acutely hurt as just settle into everything, this heavy weight that he can’t forget, can’t ever think past. He just hopes this continues, that he gets a little more of this, because maybe it’ll sustain him when he’s alone and missing Maxim again, when he has nothing else.
“How’re you feeling?” Maxim asks, familiar concern in his eyes, “can I do anything?”
“About the same. It’s pretty sore,” he says - lies, maybe - and looks up at Maxim hopefully.
“Oh,” Maxim touches Kevin’s arm, rubs his thumb over the inside of Kevin’s wrist. “I’m sorry. Can I - do anything? To make it better? Get you anything?” Kevin shakes his head no; he wants Maxim to kiss him, to plead that’s the only thing to make everything better, please, please,but he only said it last night because his painkillers just made thinking hard, made him do stupid things, and he can’t ask for that in the daytime, when he knows what he’s asking for. He looks back out the window, just thinking about last night bringing a fresh wave of embarrassment; fuck, he cried, he was a disaster, and Maxim - Maxim still wants nothing to do with him, in the end. He’s only doing this for now.
“I wish I could do something,” Maxim says softly, “mon pauvre.”
“What you did last night was nice,” Kevin says, hopes the words don’t tremble the way every breath he takes seems to, and he doesn’t dare try to touch Maxim. God, he’s just so nervous, because Maxim could tell him no, could take himself away, and Kevin can’t lose this just yet, hasn’t had Maxim for nearly long enough. All he ever wants is his Maxim.
“Bien sur,” Maxim says, touches his hand to Kevin’s cheek gently to get Kevin to look at him, then leans over and kisses him. It’s what Kevin asked for, but God, he didn’t really think Maxim would do it. Maxim kisses him so softly, this this can be gentle enough to really make Kevin feel better. Kevin never wants him to pull away, kissing Maxim back and can’t help the whimpering little sounds, he just - oh, he’s missed this, he just melts. When Maxim pulls away, Kevin can’t help but collapse on his shoulder, whimper “Maxi,” wants to plead for more.
“What can I do?” Maxim asks, so soft.
“Please don’t stop,” Kevin says helplessly, and there must be something irresistibly pathetic on his face, because Maxim gives in immediately, licks Kevin’s lips apart and kisses him sweet and slow. Maxim slips his other hand into Kevin’s, draws back enough to smile at him. “Tell me, if I can do something, d’accord?” He nuzzles Kevin’s cheek, kisses his jaw.
“You are doing something,” Kevin says, brings their lips close together again. Maxim takes the blatant hint, and he doesn’t stop for a long time, finally gets that this is the only thing Kevin wants.
The flight isn’t more than a couple hours, but Kevin really wishes it were longer, could do this for so long, Maxim leaning over to kiss him, always touching him in some way. Kevin doesn’t know how he can ever go back to what it was like before this, how he can lose this again. At least he has it while he’s injured, though. He has this today, and Maxim’s paying attention to him, and maybe Maxim will keep kissing him all day, touch him gentle and soft, hold him and talk to him, sweet and soothing, the best way Kevin’s ever been talked to, as Maxim kisses him and nuzzles against him and Kevin never wants him to stop. When they arrive, Maxim gets up to grab their suitcases out of the overhead compartment.
“Gonna take forever,” Maxim says, looking up the row; they’re in the very last row, the rest of the guys closer to the front. They’re being noisy about something, some poker game that’s not finished yet. Kevin scoots over to the aisle seat and just looks up at him, kind of can’t help staring sometimes, Maxim just standing there with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, biting the side of his lip. “How’s your back?” Maxim asks, turns his gaze back to Kevin. Kevin shrugs a shoulder, and Maxim leans down to cup Kevin’s face in his hands, kisses him. Kevin’s glad he’s not standing because his knees would surely give out, because this is sudden, is done so easily; Maxim’s hands are so gentle on his face and he tastes like tea and chocolate. When Maxim pulls back, Kevin can’t help but nearly fall forward, hands landing on the armrest. He grabs Maxim back though, pulls him down again. There’s a moment when he’s terrified he’s done too much, but Maxim just kisses him again, and Kevin whimpers in relief, closes his eyes.
“Come on, moitié,” Maxim says after a little while, Kevin coming apart from how much he loves every second.
“More?” he pleads, and Maxim smiles.
“We gotta get to the bus,” he says, but kisses Kevin once more anyways. Kevin follows him, just so overwhelmingly glad that he’s allowed to do this now, follow this instinct that tells him to follow Maxim, to never be far from him.
The day goes the way Kevin wishes every one could, and it’s just so hard to think that tomorrow will be the last. He’s going to sit out the game tomorrow, and then the next day - he’ll be okay, Maxim will know he’s not injured anymore, and he’ll abandon Kevin again. He doesn’t understand how Maxim can do that, though, give him all this just to back away again, get cold and distant and somehow forget every slow kiss he gave Kevin today, how he can leave Kevin after this just ready to beg please don’t hate me, give Kevin all this and then take it all away again.
It weighs on Kevin as they’re getting ready for bed, because Maxim’s just being so sweet, making sure Kevin remembers to take painkillers and helping him with the buttons on his shirt because he’s pretending his back still really hurts.
“Maxi,” he says as he sits on the side of his bed, Maxim pulling the covers back. “What’ll happen when my back’s better?”
“Whatever you want to happen,” Maxim replies, and Kevin frowns.
“That’s not a good enough answer, I don’t want you to be close to be just because I ask for it. I don’t want - charity. I wish you’d want to be close to me,” he says. Maxim isn’t looking at him, just biting his lip and looking at the floor.
“You’re asking for it?” Maxim asks, infuriatingly unhelpful; is it so much to ask for, Kevin just want Maxim to want him, just wants what they had before.
“You said whatever I want to happen, and fuck that, that would be asking for it. And I didn’t ask for you to pull away from me in the first place, so don’t give me that bullshit. That wasn’t what I wanted to happen, that’s what you decided to do,” he snaps out, and Maxim hangs his head, still doesn’t look up. “So I’m asking what you intend to do when I’m not injured anymore. Or are you just not going to tell me, so it can be a surprise like last time?”
“I didn’t - know you - cared,” Maxim says quietly, and it’s a second before Kevin can even understand. Cared? Maxim abandoning him - it fucking ruined him, how could Maxim think that wouldn’t hurt?
“Didn’t know I cared? You were my best fucking friend! Or at least I thought you were.”
Maxim sinks down on the side of the other bed, head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I know I fucked up, I’m so sorry.”
It just - hurts, that this is all Kevin will get, that Maxim isn’t going to fix it, and he was angry but now he just fucking hurts. No matter what Maxim does, Kevin’s still going to be here; he never gives up on Maxim, even though this hurts, hurts so badly.
“When you’re better - I won’t change anything. I promise,” Maxim says, soft and apologetic. Kevin can’t help it, this just makes him melt, he’s never going to stop wanting to hold Maxim, he always just wishes Maxim would want him.
“You won’t change anything from what?” he asks in a little voice, feels timid in the face of Maxim being able to tell him from leaving you.
“From now,” Maxim says. Kevin frowns.
“But you’re in the wrong bed.”
Maxim, thank God, he smiles at this. “I am,” he agrees, comes over to climb into bed beside Kevin. He slides down under the blankets, holds out an arm, and Kevin snuggles in against him, feels like he can finally breathe easily.
“Now tell me how things will be when my back is better?” he asks hopefully. Maxim strokes his back, makes a soft little sighing sound.
“Like this.”
Kevin wraps his arms around Maxim, that tense nervousness slinking back in, spreading through him. “Why don’t you like this?” he asks. How can Maxim not - it feels so perfect, everything Kevin wants, how can this be both what he loves and what Maxim doesn’t want?
“But I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Maxim keeps rubbing his back, and Kevin - oh, he could almost convince himself that Maxim actually likes this.
“You didn’t want it before.”
“When?” Maxim asks. Kevin frowns, doesn’t know what to call it - when Maxim abandoned him, when he suddenly realised he didn’t like Kevin at all.
“I liked it then, too. I just - thought I wasn’t supposed to,” Maxim mumbles out. He couldn’t have liked it, though, couldn’t, because heleft.
“Says who?”
“I just - I don’t know. I was wrong.” He recognizes the tone of Maxim’s voice, regretful and miserable, when he’s upset and unhappy about it and wants to be forgiven.
“What determines whether or not you’re ‘supposed to’?”
“I-” Maxim’s hand stills on Kevin’s back, but at least he doesn’t move away. “I felt like I went too far. And that you wouldn’t like it.”
“You thought I wouldn’t like it?” Kevin asks, perplexed. “Are we talking about two different things?”
“Euh - I’m not sure?”
“What do you think constituted going ‘too far’? The stuff I begged you to do?”
“Well - you were drunk. So. Kinda,” Maxim mumbles.
“But I begged you. And surely you could tell that I liked it,” Kevin says, and he can feel himself blushing hot, because he just - fuck, he liked it. He liked everything Maxim did to him, liked it shamelessly and completely. “Is that what you’re talking about, going too far?”
“But - you were drunk, I shouldn’t have,” Maxim says, a guilty regret in his voice. Kevin doesn’t know how to tell him more plainly, I loved it, please do it more, I fucking love you.
“I wasn’t that drunk. I knew what I was doing. I wish you’d give me some credit, Maxi,” he says, looks up at Maxim’s face for a moment, doesn’t know what to do with the concern he sees.
“But - so what’s that mean, then?” Maxim rubs gentle circles into Kevin’s shoulder, absent-minded and gentle.
“It means that as far as I’m concerned, it didn’t go too far. I asked for it - I begged for it. I wanted it, and I liked it.”
“Oh,” Maxim says, this surprised little breath. Kevin doesn’t know what he could say, just holds Maxim tight; he can feel Maxim’s heartbeat, racing fast. “You… did?”
“You don’t remember?” Kevin asks, kind of wounded by this. He remembers every detail, remembers every little sound and the way Maxim clung and grabbed for him, remembers everything because he doesn’t know that he’ll ever get to have it again.
“I mean - I thought - of course I remember,” Maxim stammers. Kevin stays quiet, but Maxim still seems nervous, tightly would.
“Tell me the real reason you pulled away from me,” Kevin says softly. Maxim makes a whimpering little sound.
“I thought I took advantage of you,” he says, so raw with reluctance. Kevin nearly flinches.
“Giving me what I want is taking advantage of me?”
“You never wanted me before.” It’s just so sad, Maxim saying this, believing it even for a moment, because Kevin’s wanted him since Maxim first came into the locker room, quiet and mistrusting, tossed aside by two teams in rapid succession, and when he opened up to Kevin, oh, Kevin felt so special.
“You don’t know what I want. I wish you’d ask me, instead of assuming.”
“You never said you wanted me before,” Maxim says, this small voice that kind of breaks Kevin’s heart all over again. I do, every day, say it in everything. “So it seemed like it was just - because we were drinking.”
“Drinking lowered my inhibitions, it didn’t make like - false desire. I don’t need to drink to want you, Maxi,” he says, hugs Maxim tighter. God, how could he not want Maxim? He loves Maxim like he was designed to do so, be the only one who gets to know everything about him.
“Do you want me?” Maxim asks, the shy tone he hasn’t heard in years. This is the tone Maxim used when he heard Kevin call him his best friend for the first time, when they made it through their first trades deadline day and Kevin said he was happy Maxim was still here, and when Kevin came to take care of him when he was sick, and when he said you did this for me?, like Kevin built him a kingdom and not just a bookcase to perfectly fit the corner Maxim wanted one in.
Kevin laughs nervously. “I want a lot of things.”
Continued in next part; too long for LJ post :P