Max leaned back against the headboard, his gaze flicking to Jaxon, who was still fidgeting with the Polaroid camera. The air between them felt heavier now, like all the words they weren’t saying were just floating there, waiting to spill out.
“You really gonna keep that picture?” Max asked, breaking the silence.
Jaxon shrugged but didn’t meet his eyes. “Why not? It’s mine now.”
Max snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”
Jaxon finally looked at him, smirking a little. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Max shook his head, laughing softly. “It’s not.”
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable it was the kind of quiet that made you realize something was about to change.
Jaxon set the camera down on the nightstand and leaned back, resting his head on the pillow. “This is weird,” he said suddenly.
“What is?” Max asked, glancing over.
“This,” Jaxon said, motioning between them. “Us. Sitting here, pretending like we don’t have a whole history of you being... you.”
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well... maybe I’m trying to rewrite that history.”
Jaxon raised an eyebrow. “Rewrite it how?”
“I don’t know,” Max admitted, his voice quieter. “Just... differently. Better.”
Jaxon didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he shifted, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees. “You know, you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he said finally.
Max chuckled. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’m serious,” Jaxon said, looking at him. “You’re... different when it’s just us.”
Max turned to him, his smile fading into something softer. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly what I expected either.”8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5yOj0z6wmB
Max returned with two mugs of tea, handing one to Jaxon, who was still lying on the bed. The room felt quieter now, almost intimate. Max handed over the tea, and they both took a sip, the warmth from the mugs filling the space between them.
For a while, they didn’t say anything. The silence felt different this time, more comfortable. Max felt the tension from earlier start to melt away.
Max set his mug down on the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard. He looked over at Jaxon, who was still sitting up, his legs stretched out in front of him.
“So, uh…” Max began, hesitating for a moment. “What happens now?”
Jaxon turned his head slowly to look at him. “Now?” He paused, then shrugged. “We talk, I guess. See where this goes.”
Max smiled slightly. “I’m okay with that.”
Max glanced down at Jaxon’s lips, then back up to his eyes. He didn’t know what he was thinking—or if he was even thinking at all.
“Max,” Jaxon said quietly, like a warning.
“Yeah?” Max whispered, his voice barely audible.
“You’re staring,” Jaxon said, his cheeks flushing pink.
Max smirked faintly. “Maybe I am.”
Before Jaxon could respond, Max leaned in, his lips brushing against Jaxon’s in a soft, hesitant kiss. Jaxon froze, his breath hitching, but he didn’t pull away.
The kiss deepened slowly, the hesitation fading as Jaxon leaned into it, his hands gripping the edge of the bed. Max’s heart was racing, his head spinning, but he didn’t care.
It was soft at first—gentle, unsure—but then Jaxon’s fingers brushed against Max’s shirt, and something shifted. The kiss grew more intense, more urgent, like they were both trying to make up for all the time they’d spent pretending they didn’t want this.
Max pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against Jaxon’s. “You okay?” he murmured.
Jaxon nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”
Max smiled, leaning in again—but his elbow knocked over the Polaroid camera, sending it clattering to the floor.
“Crap,” Max muttered, pulling back to pick it up. The motion tipped his tea mug over too, spilling it across the nightstand.
“Seriously?” Jaxon said, laughing as he grabbed a towel from the nightstand to mop it up.
“Hey, it’s not my fault,” Max said, shrugging off his blue dress shirt and white tee, leaving him in just his basketball shorts.
Jaxon’s laughter faltered, his eyes darting away as his face turned bright red. “Uh...”
Max tilted his head, smirking. “What? You shy now?”
“Shut up,” Jaxon muttered, tossing the towel at him.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Max teased, leaning closer.
“Max,” Jaxon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Our parents are gonna think we’re... you know.”
Max’s smirk softened into something gentler. “Let them think what they want.”
And with that, he kissed Jaxon again, the rest of the earth fading into the background.
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