Fic: Never To Break You (21)
Because ahhhh, your COMMENTS <3
Kevin spends the afternoon convincing himself not to go find Maxim. It’s hard, so hard, because his first instinct is to find Maxim, do anything he can to make this stop, make it better. When his phone rings in the evening he grabs at it and answers before he remembers that Maxim doesn’t even have his number.
“What?” He can’t chase the disappointment from his voice.
“I know you’re always happy to hear from me, but this is ridiculous enthusiasm. Curb that shit, man.”
“What is it, Kes?”
“Wanted to ask what that show was you made us watch in Detroit last time.”
“Uh. Entourage. You hated it.”
“Yeah, I wanted to recommend it to Cory, because he told us to watch American-whatever and that was terrible. It’s revenge.”
“You’re such a nice guy.”
“I do my best.”
“Yeah.” Kevin sighs out a breath, tries to focus on what they’re talking about.
“You, uh,” Ryan hesitates, so uneasy Kevin can practically hear it, “okay?”
“Better once you stop talking to me,” Kevin replies, and Ryan laughs, even if Kevin knows he’s not entirely convinced.
He spends the rest of the evening researching for the renovation sponsoring project, even though it takes him three tries to read every single paragraph, until he can reasonably justify just going to sleep.
Tomorrow, Kevin tells himself as he heads for his bedroom, Maxim’s just - upset, right now, and he’ll be back. He’ll come back because it’s okay, everything’s fine. He’s almost convinced he can hold himself together, he won’t fall apart because Maxim will be back, he will be - until he sees the nightstand as he gets into bed.
Maxim’s key is sitting there.
He isn’t coming back. There is no until Maxim comes back, there’s nothing to wait for that will save him, because Maxim’s gone, he’s disappeared just like he did before, but it’s different. Last time, people forgot his name, the world went on without him, but Kevin can’t do that.
It’s my fault, he thinks, even as he remembers the way Maxim smiled when he was given the key, it’s because I’m in love with him. Kevin wants to - to apologise for that, to beg to just take it back, because he can do that, he’d rather just - just hide it, so he can have Maxim back, that’s all he wants, because he loves Maxim more than he can handle. Maybe that’s why it happened, Kevin let that run away with him, a wildfire that destroyed the whole world when he should have just cupped a candle in his hands, held it close to his heart to hide it from everyone. But it was supposed to be okay, he thought Maxim wanted that; I wish you could love me, he’d said, and Kevin’s so sure he didn’t repeat it wrong, that’s what Maxim said, it has to be. And the way he’d said it - Kevin remembers that, remembers the longing and the pain because it hurt him, it changed things, and Kevin knows Maxim meant it. But maybe - maybe that was before Maxim knew him better. Maybe it lived in a changing world and the person Maxim wants is not the one Kevin is now, maybe he never was. Maxim wanted Kevin to love him - but maybe Kevin’s love wasn’t good enough after all, maybe all he can do is disappoint, prove himself unneeded.
Maxim left his key because he’s never coming back, not now that he knows Kevin loves him.
Kevin’s held himself together all day, but now, now that he knows it’s his fault, that his love for Maxim is what sent him away, Kevin lets himself cry for everything he lost when he woke up without Maxim, because it feels like the world broke a promise it made to him, because he wasn’t supposed to meet his perfect match only to lose him, it wasn’t supposed to be his fault that everything was ruined.
It’s because I love him
That wasn’t supposed to hurt.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Missing Maxim is like a physical ache, a pain that throbs in Kevin’s chest relentlessly, something he can’t escape because Maxim left memories on everything. As long as he keeps it to himself, though, keeps it contained, he can handle it, because if no one looks at this, they can’t tell him did you really think it wouldn’t end like this, can’t tell him you brought this on yourself, you fought to have this. Kevin couldn’t handle the humiliation of someone else seeing this, knowing instantly that it’s entirely his fault. Someone else might say what disappears once always disappears for good in the end, and Kevin won’t be able to say anything, because it feels true.
He manages to keep it from Ryan and Alex for an entire week before they show up at his door, annoyed he’s been ignoring them, using it to mask a concern Kevin can’t handle.
“We thought you’d died or something,” Ryan says as Kevin lets him in.
“That would - euh - been have bad?” Alex adds, following, gets a would have been from Ryan after Alex pokes him.
“Sorry,” Kevin follows them into the living room, watches them scroll through the Netflix queue for a few minutes; he keeps logging on with the intention of deleting all the horror movies off of it, but every single one is still there. Beside him, Alex clicks through titles at warp speed, and Kevin’s pretty sure he can’t read English that fast.
“Hey,” Ryan says, “isn’t Maxim usually here?”
Kevin swallows hard. “Not always.”
“Kevin,” Alex adds quietly, gives him this searching look that tells Kevin they’re going to know, he’s going to end up telling them and he needs to, maybe, because it’s wearing on him and breaking him down and soon, there’s going to be nothing left.
“He left,” Kevin blurts out, and it hurts, like the words are torn out of him, leave him bleeding. Why does he have to say this, why did it have to come to this, reduce him to ruins at just the words that echo what happened? Why did things have to go so badly? “I- I told him I love him and he disappeared.” He burns to say it, the embarrassment making it all so much worse, because this is his fault, this is because he wasn’t good enough, he made this happen. This happened because of what he said, because of what he feels for Maxim, this is all him.
“Kevin,” Ryan says, this quiet, heartbroken voice, and he’s never sympathetic, but Kevin’s never ruined things this thoroughly before. Between that and Alex’s wide-eyed look of shock, it’s too real, it’s getting confirmation on something with a gravity that hasn’t quite hit him yet, but now that it does it hurts, and Kevin buries his face in his hands, wishes so hard it hurts that things were any other way.
“I thought he wanted me,” he chokes out, “I thought he could love me. I thought he could be all mine.”
“Kevin,” Alex breathes, hugs him tight. Kevin hears his strained little “Ryan!” like he doesn’t know what to do, how to fix what’s broken beyond recognition. Ryan comes to sit on his other side, tellingly silent for a few moments.
“We’re so sorry,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, “fuck, Kevin. So, so sorry. He never deserved you.” Kevin wants to protest, but can’t say anything at all, eyes brimming with tears. Alex strokes his back gently, steady where Kevin’s breathing is erratic.
“Fucking hooker,” Ryan mumbles angrily, “how the fuck dare he? I want to fucking find him and kill him, because who the hell does he think he is? You’re you, Kevin, you were so good to him - he deserves to - fuck him, I want to beat the shit out of him, that fucker-”
“It just - I thought - I thought we were just - just made for each other, but I guess - he didn’t feel like that too, it was just - just me.” It felt like this was the point, this is why Kevin is the way he is, because everything matches perfectly to his counter in Maxim, and how could that have been one-sided, how could it be anything but his fault, failing to be the other half Maxim needed? Because Maxim was perfect; he was everything Kevin wanted, and if his perfect match doesn’t want him, what good is he?
“No!” Alex protests, “that’s not true, t’es so special, Juice. You will meet another man who won’t treat you in this way.” Kevin can’t hear anything other than the way Alex says it - hears just his accent, hears Maxim in that, and Kevin can’t help it, just sobs harder because he hasn’t heard Maxim in a week, and he’s never going to again.
“I just want him back,” he whispers, and neither of them has anything to say to that. Kevin brought all this on himself, and maybe he’s going to always be this self-destructive, if that’s what wanting Maxim is, because he’s never going to want anyone else.
Next Chapter
Kevin spends the afternoon convincing himself not to go find Maxim. It’s hard, so hard, because his first instinct is to find Maxim, do anything he can to make this stop, make it better. When his phone rings in the evening he grabs at it and answers before he remembers that Maxim doesn’t even have his number.
“What?” He can’t chase the disappointment from his voice.
“I know you’re always happy to hear from me, but this is ridiculous enthusiasm. Curb that shit, man.”
“What is it, Kes?”
“Wanted to ask what that show was you made us watch in Detroit last time.”
“Uh. Entourage. You hated it.”
“Yeah, I wanted to recommend it to Cory, because he told us to watch American-whatever and that was terrible. It’s revenge.”
“You’re such a nice guy.”
“I do my best.”
“Yeah.” Kevin sighs out a breath, tries to focus on what they’re talking about.
“You, uh,” Ryan hesitates, so uneasy Kevin can practically hear it, “okay?”
“Better once you stop talking to me,” Kevin replies, and Ryan laughs, even if Kevin knows he’s not entirely convinced.
He spends the rest of the evening researching for the renovation sponsoring project, even though it takes him three tries to read every single paragraph, until he can reasonably justify just going to sleep.
Tomorrow, Kevin tells himself as he heads for his bedroom, Maxim’s just - upset, right now, and he’ll be back. He’ll come back because it’s okay, everything’s fine. He’s almost convinced he can hold himself together, he won’t fall apart because Maxim will be back, he will be - until he sees the nightstand as he gets into bed.
Maxim’s key is sitting there.
He isn’t coming back. There is no until Maxim comes back, there’s nothing to wait for that will save him, because Maxim’s gone, he’s disappeared just like he did before, but it’s different. Last time, people forgot his name, the world went on without him, but Kevin can’t do that.
It’s my fault, he thinks, even as he remembers the way Maxim smiled when he was given the key, it’s because I’m in love with him. Kevin wants to - to apologise for that, to beg to just take it back, because he can do that, he’d rather just - just hide it, so he can have Maxim back, that’s all he wants, because he loves Maxim more than he can handle. Maybe that’s why it happened, Kevin let that run away with him, a wildfire that destroyed the whole world when he should have just cupped a candle in his hands, held it close to his heart to hide it from everyone. But it was supposed to be okay, he thought Maxim wanted that; I wish you could love me, he’d said, and Kevin’s so sure he didn’t repeat it wrong, that’s what Maxim said, it has to be. And the way he’d said it - Kevin remembers that, remembers the longing and the pain because it hurt him, it changed things, and Kevin knows Maxim meant it. But maybe - maybe that was before Maxim knew him better. Maybe it lived in a changing world and the person Maxim wants is not the one Kevin is now, maybe he never was. Maxim wanted Kevin to love him - but maybe Kevin’s love wasn’t good enough after all, maybe all he can do is disappoint, prove himself unneeded.
Maxim left his key because he’s never coming back, not now that he knows Kevin loves him.
Kevin’s held himself together all day, but now, now that he knows it’s his fault, that his love for Maxim is what sent him away, Kevin lets himself cry for everything he lost when he woke up without Maxim, because it feels like the world broke a promise it made to him, because he wasn’t supposed to meet his perfect match only to lose him, it wasn’t supposed to be his fault that everything was ruined.
It’s because I love him
That wasn’t supposed to hurt.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Missing Maxim is like a physical ache, a pain that throbs in Kevin’s chest relentlessly, something he can’t escape because Maxim left memories on everything. As long as he keeps it to himself, though, keeps it contained, he can handle it, because if no one looks at this, they can’t tell him did you really think it wouldn’t end like this, can’t tell him you brought this on yourself, you fought to have this. Kevin couldn’t handle the humiliation of someone else seeing this, knowing instantly that it’s entirely his fault. Someone else might say what disappears once always disappears for good in the end, and Kevin won’t be able to say anything, because it feels true.
He manages to keep it from Ryan and Alex for an entire week before they show up at his door, annoyed he’s been ignoring them, using it to mask a concern Kevin can’t handle.
“We thought you’d died or something,” Ryan says as Kevin lets him in.
“That would - euh - been have bad?” Alex adds, following, gets a would have been from Ryan after Alex pokes him.
“Sorry,” Kevin follows them into the living room, watches them scroll through the Netflix queue for a few minutes; he keeps logging on with the intention of deleting all the horror movies off of it, but every single one is still there. Beside him, Alex clicks through titles at warp speed, and Kevin’s pretty sure he can’t read English that fast.
“Hey,” Ryan says, “isn’t Maxim usually here?”
Kevin swallows hard. “Not always.”
“Kevin,” Alex adds quietly, gives him this searching look that tells Kevin they’re going to know, he’s going to end up telling them and he needs to, maybe, because it’s wearing on him and breaking him down and soon, there’s going to be nothing left.
“He left,” Kevin blurts out, and it hurts, like the words are torn out of him, leave him bleeding. Why does he have to say this, why did it have to come to this, reduce him to ruins at just the words that echo what happened? Why did things have to go so badly? “I- I told him I love him and he disappeared.” He burns to say it, the embarrassment making it all so much worse, because this is his fault, this is because he wasn’t good enough, he made this happen. This happened because of what he said, because of what he feels for Maxim, this is all him.
“Kevin,” Ryan says, this quiet, heartbroken voice, and he’s never sympathetic, but Kevin’s never ruined things this thoroughly before. Between that and Alex’s wide-eyed look of shock, it’s too real, it’s getting confirmation on something with a gravity that hasn’t quite hit him yet, but now that it does it hurts, and Kevin buries his face in his hands, wishes so hard it hurts that things were any other way.
“I thought he wanted me,” he chokes out, “I thought he could love me. I thought he could be all mine.”
“Kevin,” Alex breathes, hugs him tight. Kevin hears his strained little “Ryan!” like he doesn’t know what to do, how to fix what’s broken beyond recognition. Ryan comes to sit on his other side, tellingly silent for a few moments.
“We’re so sorry,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, “fuck, Kevin. So, so sorry. He never deserved you.” Kevin wants to protest, but can’t say anything at all, eyes brimming with tears. Alex strokes his back gently, steady where Kevin’s breathing is erratic.
“Fucking hooker,” Ryan mumbles angrily, “how the fuck dare he? I want to fucking find him and kill him, because who the hell does he think he is? You’re you, Kevin, you were so good to him - he deserves to - fuck him, I want to beat the shit out of him, that fucker-”
“It just - I thought - I thought we were just - just made for each other, but I guess - he didn’t feel like that too, it was just - just me.” It felt like this was the point, this is why Kevin is the way he is, because everything matches perfectly to his counter in Maxim, and how could that have been one-sided, how could it be anything but his fault, failing to be the other half Maxim needed? Because Maxim was perfect; he was everything Kevin wanted, and if his perfect match doesn’t want him, what good is he?
“No!” Alex protests, “that’s not true, t’es so special, Juice. You will meet another man who won’t treat you in this way.” Kevin can’t hear anything other than the way Alex says it - hears just his accent, hears Maxim in that, and Kevin can’t help it, just sobs harder because he hasn’t heard Maxim in a week, and he’s never going to again.
“I just want him back,” he whispers, and neither of them has anything to say to that. Kevin brought all this on himself, and maybe he’s going to always be this self-destructive, if that’s what wanting Maxim is, because he’s never going to want anyone else.
Next Chapter