THE THINGS WE DID WERE NOT A DREAM,, max and brent!

[MAXWELL ADRIAN SOMMARTINI]

Max Sommartini had been feeling unusually anxious the whole day--in fact, the whole week. It posed a bit of a problem when, in the classical Greek summer class he teacher assisted for, the professor left him in charge for the whole lecture and was assaulted with questions ranging from "What the hell do you do with a classical languages major?" to "I saw you at the bar! Do you work there?" and "Will you go out with me?" (of course, that was from a woman).One of the students even commented on his anxiety ("You seem more twitchy than usual!" to which another student replied "Well, he's not stoned today," to Max's chagrin). Needless to say, the class got very little done.

The whole week had been like this for Max, with his nerves getting progressively worse with each passing day. He kept telling himself that he had no clue whatsoever why his nerves were so bad. He, of course, did. He was going on a date--Not a date! Dinner. No big deal, Max, no big deal.--with his dearest and most beloved friend Brent. It didn't help Max's nerves that his best friend happened to be gloriously attractive--If I could just...no, no, no, bad thoughts. Don't get horny before dinner with Brent. You're going to fuck up if you do,--and the object of Max's teenage desire for a solid four years.

Even though he knew why he was nervous, because he was going out to dinner with Brent, he didn't understand why that was making him nervous. Brent was just his best friend. The fact that he happened to be an extremely attractive bisexual man didn't affect anything. Right? And the fact that even though Max's one-sided crush had waned he still found him one of the sexiest men alive didn't affect anything either. Right?

Max had no clue. He was more than confused about the whole thing. He didn't think he still liked him, but there was always the possibility that he did and Max had just attributed a stigma to his feelings--he had done just this many times in the past. The stigma in this case would be that Brent had no interest in him when Max would have stripped in front of the school for one night with him, so therefore he shouldn't have any interest in older Max. He undoubtedly looked worse and nerdier than he did in his high school days--now he was all 130 pounds of skin, bone, brain and paleness. Back home in Arizona, if Max wore enough sunscreen (SPF 60 like a North European champ), he might actually get a touch of tan, or at least shed his sickly white. But here in Boston, that didn't really happen. Max only went outside during the night, and that was usually to walk to work.

Okay, so with that rationale, this is definitely not a date. That's good. Yes. That's very good. Brent's just taking me out to a fancy dinner as a...thank you. A thank you for smoking his sexy ass up. Obviously. that makes perfect sense. This rambling interior monologue had gone on and on and on all day, while he took a shower, when he attempted to read some of the Aeneid, when he got dressed, when he toked, and even after he toked, when he usually zones out and played video games. His anxious thoughts relentlessly buzzed.

As it turned out, Max now was sitting across the table from his marvelously attractive best friend and his thoughts were still buzzing around in the same way. His left hand was shaking, and he held it against his leg with his other hand, which was also shaking. He was praying to his atheist gods that Brent couldn't see his random nerves--and oh god, if he says anything I genuinely might die of embarrassment. Namely, he would die because he had no reason to be nervous.

Max decided to try talking, "So, uh...How was your day?" He paused, talking clearly wasn't going to go well for him. He cursed his random nerves. "Mine was strange. I got asked out by a chick in the elementary Greek class I TA for. Be honest with me, am I not gay enough? I think I've been asked out by more women than men." He let out a sigh and took note of his hands in his lap. They had finally stopped shaking. About damned time.

[BRENTLEY BOYD MILLER]

This is it. The day that Brent had been anticipating since forever ago. Today will be the day that Brentley Miller tells a certain someone that he's madly in love with him and had been since high school. How old is he now? Twenty three and now, years later, Brent has finally mustered up the courage necessary to tell his best friend that he's been in love with him for as long as he could remember was too chicken shit to do a damned thing about it until now. Brent feared that this would be his one and only chance to come clean to Max or he'd be living the rest of his life in regret, sleeping with countless faces in a pathetic attempt to erase Max from his heart and Brent would be damned if that were to ever happen. Tonight will be special. Something the two of them would remember for years to come.

What did Max think about this whole thing? Maybe he thought this had to do with Capitol records and other music related business. Well, there was a bit of music involved. To be more specific, a song written specifically for Max. Hopefully, he'll get the message if anything. After all, Max had to be one of the most oblivious people that he had ever had the chance of crossing paths with in his entire life. It was insane to be honest. For instance, the day he indirectly told Max that he was going to write a love song for him and attempt to woo him while on a romantic date one evening. Normally, most people would've put two and two together in a matter of minutes. No, not Maxwell. He went on about how he needed to meet the lucky guy that managed to capture the elusive heart that belonged to Brent. The entire time, Brent was rolling with tears streaming down his face. It was too much. The cute, oblivious words of Max killed him. He was so tempted just to call him and tell him that the lucky guy was him and that he had been in love with him for years but was scared that those feelings he felt wouldn't be returned in the way he hoped.

The week seemed to drag on, the hours ticking by slower with each passing minute. Brent made phone calls here and there, made reservations at one of the nicest restaurants in Boston and perfected the lyrics to the words of his heart. Brent even went to the lengths of singing such a personal song to his lyrics professor in hopes that it wasn't in terrible taste. This song wasn't some stupid song like “Love Story” by Taylor Swift. Oh no. This was far deeper than some teenage song about puppy love. This love. It felt almost cosmic. Written out in the stars by the great Aphrodite herself. Sure enough, Brent's professor praised him for writing quite an interesting love song. It was definitely unique in it's own way and he told Brent that whoever it was that this song was for must be someone important as hell to have caught his heart. Yeah, even the professors gossip and have heard countless rumors of Brent and his inability to be tied down to a single soul.

A quartet of violinist played warmly, music ringing out through the crowded restaurant. Brent could hear his heart pounding over the beauty of Webber's “All I Ask of You” and he immediately wondered of Max could hear the loud beating from within his chest. He hummed along to the song, delicately sipping on a glass of Margaux. He swallowed hard as Max broke the silence, questioning him as to how his day was. Brent hmm'd inwardly, throat vibrating. “It was pretty normal. Played some music, slept, did some yoga among other things. How about you?” He smiled warmly, carding fingers through his hair.

Brent titled his head to the side, nose scrunched as Max stated that yet another girl had the balls to ask him out today. Brent stood up halfway in side of the booth, reaching down to pull Max's hands onto the table and began idly rubbing the back of both hands as he started to speak.“Really?” He tsk'd a few times, head shaking in response to the girl's obviously broken gaydar. “Honestly, you're like the perfect gay. You're not too feminine and you're not too manly. You're at that beautiful divide.” Brent added, brow raised as his eyes met the quartet who nodded at him, signaling to him that they learned the piece of music given to them for tonight's special occasion. If Brent was going to try his hand at romantics, he was going to go all out. Immediately, the butterflies unleashed themselves upon his stomach, thrumming against the tender lining. Now was not the time for this. Brent groaned inside himself, drawing in a breath in hopes to quiet the storm inside.

[MAXWELL ADRIAN SOMMARTINI]

Max was beginning to feel significantly calmer than he was previously--he wasn't sure why exactly. Maybe it was the alcohol he was sipping on--the boy had absolutely no tolerance for anything alcoholic, which had become a running joke at the bar he worked at. After a rough night of bar fights (and possibly getting hit in the face with something, which was a pretty common occurring. Max was, in fact, the bar's fluffy punching bag), he'd sit with a few other employees Max lovingly called "The Women" after the bar closed and drink until the sun rose. Max rarely ever saw the sun rise though because after two to three gin and tonics Max would be asleep on a table.

But tonight Max was taking his liquor nice and slowly as he was still sipping on his first drink of the night. He wasn't actually even sure what he was drinking, besides knowing that it was extremely fancy and something that was definitely not sold at the bar that he worked at. In his book, that meant quality. Max attempted not to gawk at the man across the table as he spoke, but he was sure he was failing. It was just outright difficult not to stare at him. "That sounds like a pretty boring day. Boring days are good--" Max stopped speaking and suddenly, something that Brent said dawned on him, "Wait. You, you do yoga?" And then a nice, profane not dinner-appropriate image popped into Max's mind, one that he had quite a trouble shrugging off. And, oh, this is just perfect, he knew he was blushing. He could feel his face burning and he tried to shake it off.

His best way, he decided, on getting this extremely X-rated image out of his mind was to talk about his day, "I, ahh, I had a pretty normal day. The professor that I teacher assist for decided to skip out on class and knowingly left me in charge. Bad idea. Classical Greek students don't seem like they'd be rowdy, but they are! They are." Max let out a sullen self-loathing sigh. He was probably the most uninteresting person that Brent knew. Talking about Greek classes! Come on, Max. There must be something better. "All the students are weirdly interested in me though. I mean, besides the bitch that asked me to go out with her, everyone else was asking me questions about my personal life and shit. It was really awkward. I felt like it was how in high school we used to obsess over random teachers, or at least I did. Well, they were doing that to me. It was just straight-up awkward." There was, unfortunately, nothing more interesting in the life of Max than his extremely strange Greek students and the exciting life of being a Classical Languages graduate student.

"But yeah, it was pretty weird. I've been asked out by way too many balzy girls--" It was a this moment that Max noticed that Brent was holding his hands and he stopped talking. That bothersome blush that he had made go away moments ago was back again in full force, but for completely different reasons, and these reasons he liked. He felt like he was back in high school, except this, what he had dreamed about for so many years, was actually happening. Should he pinch himself? No. He couldn't. That would mean he'd have to let go, and Max was incapable of that. "T-the perfect? I-wh-what?" And now he was stuttering, the tell-tale of his nerves taking over any logic or control he might have once had. "W-what are you..you can't possibly m-mean, I mean, I'm, uhhh..." That was when he just stopped talking. If he kept talking, he'd just babble and stutter and trail off and Max wasn't in the mood to make a mockery of himself.

[BRENTLEY BOYD MILLER]

Brent quirked a brow as Max paused mid sentence, mouth agape. Then, it was obvious that Max was unaware of Brent and his yoga addiction. He figured that it was quite obvious, him always decked out in yoga gear and what have you. He didn't get that flexible from natural talent. It took a lot of pulled muscles and days laying in med, motionless from the pain. In the end, it was all worth it. Emotionally and... physically. “Yes...I thought you knew.” Brent smirked, drawing his lips together tightly. Oh, what was dear Maxwell thinking of now? He could only begin to imagine. Oh, there we go. His lower lip quivered, fighting back a grin as Brent caught sight of Max's cheeks as they began to flush and oh god, how he wanted so badly to reach over and pull him into a kiss that his lips have been burning over for years.

He nodded, softly inhaling the bittersweet scent of what was left of his wine. “Is that so? I never would've guessed. Them being college students and all...” He snorted, even if they were classical greek student, there was still that untamed beast deep within. Yes, even nerds have such a beast. It just takes a different swing to get the party started for them. “If I were a student, I'd be interested in you. Hell, the way you dress is interesting in itself. So, that's automatically a conversation starter. I'd be absolutely flattered that people would be interested in my personal life. And to think, you're best friends with a newly signed artist of Capitol.” A smug grin spread over his features, completely proud that he managed to make it big finally. Max, he was going to come with Brent when he goes on tour. Of course, he's not famous just yet. He's got about two seasons of touring as an opener before Capitol puts him in the spotlight. First things first, he needs to get his name out there. Create the beginnings of a mega fanbase.

He simply shrugged as Max went on about how it was weird..The numerous amount of women that asked him out. Thank god Max played for the opposite team or this entire date would be a complete and total waste of time. Those poor girls. It must suck to be them. Getting turned down by someone as gorgeous as Max. Brent couldn't help but feel some sympathy towards them because...well, he's felt and lived that sudden attraction they get for close to six years strong. “Girls are gross.” Brent teased, scrunching his nose with feigning disgust. Just the idea of being around a vagina made poor Max cringe and damn it, he had every right too. Honestly, they weren't exactly attractive and they have been notorious throughout history for giving children and grown men nightmares.

Oh god. Max was so perfect in that moment. The look on his face. How red his cheeks were and damn it.. he was stuttering. Brent sucked in a breath, goosebumps raising the hair on his arms from the sheer touch of Max's hands on his. Finally. “You. I think you're perfect.” Was this really happening? Max didn't pull his hands away. So, this...this must be a good sign. Right? Shit shit shit. Just...breathe. Brent nodded, eyes unmoving from Max. This moment. It felt so right and just to think, if things went smoothly, there would be far more to come. Teeth tugged at his lower lip, biting back laughter from the way Max was reacting to the whole situation. “What do you think I mean?” Brent mused, curious as to what exactly Max thought was going on at that very moment.

[MAXWELL ADRIAN SOMMARTINI]

Max was beginning to fret even more than he was previously. He couldn't even imagine what Brent was thinking, considering that the blush on Max's face was extremely obvious. "I-I didn't, I mean, that's uhh, that's pretty cool. We should go to--" He stopped himself, besides the fact that he was stuttering which was utterly embarrassing, what he was about to say was even worse. He decided to go for it anyways. Why not? I already look like a blushing, stuttering teenaged fool. How much worse can my embarrassment get? "Couples yoga. If they even have that, we should go to it. Couples yoga." He giggled, and then downed some alcohol.

Max thought for a bit, he was never a particularly rowdy college student, but granted, he started considerably later than everyone else, lived off-campus and (he liked to think he) was just generally more mature than the typical underclassman. "Well, yeah..I guess that's true. I don't know, they're good when the professor is there," Which would make sense, considering that Max is fluffy, geeky Max. Who wouldn't want to pick on him! "The way I dress? Really? I guess that's good--Wait! Wait just a fucking moment!" That was the moment that Max's brain wrapped itself around Brent's last words. "You got fucking signed!? Holy holy holy shit! Oh my--" And that was when Max noticed that one: he was shouting and two: the whole restaurant had turned to stare at him. He decided to quiet down. "Dude! That's amazing! It's about fucking time! So so so, when are you going places? When are you going to have an album out? I can't believe this shit! My best friend's famous! Shit man, shit! I don't even know what to say!"

Max had to take a couple deep, nice breaths before he knew he wasn't going to spontaneously start yelling, hyperventilating, or just in general freaking the fuck out. "I just, I, I can't believe it. I mean, dude. You deserve this, and it's about damned time you finally get it! I'm so happy. I feel like it's me I'm so happy!" Max was pretty sure that last statement didn't make a whole lot of sense, but he rolled with it anyways. It was the only way he could think of to describe the extreme happiness he was feeling. "Expect to smoke a glorious bowl of weed tonight. I have some special bud I've been saving for a day like this. Oh, but it doesn't even compare!" And Max, again, was gushing like a proud mother. Except that he wasn't Brent's mother (thankfully), he was just Max.

Max frowned at the mention of women. Women certainly did not make Max euphoric. He liked their hair, assuming they were the types of women that have that perfect meticulous hair, but that was where it ended. Boobs confused him, genuinely, he did not understand them. And then those private parts...Max shuddered at the thought. He had never felt true fear until he was thirteen and attempted to watch heterosexual porn. It didn't go too well. He ended up crying. Yes, crying. And he told his mom too. Awkward conversation, to say the least.

Max, now, was not thinking about any girls or scary private parts, but instead of a much better thought: Brent. And holy shit, his thoughts were confused. He couldn't comprehend at all what was happening. Max? Perfect? And this isn't a cruel joke? He wanted to cry a happy cry, or dance (he decided that dancing wouldn't be such a good thing because, well let's be honest, no one should be subject to seeing Maxwell Sommartini, Nerd Extraordinaire, dance). "You...you think I'm perfect? And you're sure you're pretty much sober?" He laughed an extremely awkward laugh. "Oh my god, you're serious. You think that I'm perfect? I don't--I, ahh, oh god, Brent, I don't know what to say." He thought, but nothing was coming, "I don't even know if I know what you're trying to say." He paused, still nothing was processing in his brain, said "fuck it", grabbed Brent's shirt and pulled him into an extremely hasty, breathy (breathy in the "Oh god Max, don't have a panic attack" way) kiss. When he finally broke it off, all he could think of saying was, "Uhh, yeah. Yeah!" He was pretty sure that was all he needed to say.

[BRENTLEY BOYD MILLER]

What was tonight even on about? This was insane and damn it all if Brent wasn't basking in his pride for taking such a leap. Yeah, okay. So maybe to the untrained eye, Brent looks like this glorious, outgoing and social party animal who needless to say, has a way with words. But, to one who knows Brent all too well, he's far from the little facade that he puts on in public. Truth be told, he's absolutely terrified of dates like this, wearing his heart on his sleeve. Never in a million years would Brent even have imagined himself, sitting across from Max in a dimly lit overpriced restaurant with a fucking string quartet humming softly in the background to help set the mood. This is what people do on important dates, right? They get all romantic. Buy the finest wines. Reserve an exclusive booth in one of Boston's most prestigious five star restaurants. Serenade said loved one and lead them to a hotel room adorned with velvet rose petals. Close but no cigar. Hotel rooms were just tacky. He couldn't bring himself to get romantic in a strange bed. No matter how clean. It just..Maybe it was the fact that the walls were almost always paper thin and god, how awkward would it be to get a complaint from reception due to a high amount of noise coming from their room. We'll just stick to the familiar that's Max's place.

”Couples yoga...” Cute. Someone was feeling themselves tonight. Brent smirked into his glass, ”I like the sound of that. That would definitely be...thrilling.” He added, brow quirked to the possibilities that would blossom from Max's new found flexibility. Chill out. Brent set his glass down, finger idly swirling around the wine soaked rim.

Of course they're going to be good when the professors there. Oh, Maxwell. ”Don't take this the wrong way...but. I think it's due to the professor being a bit more...intimidating. I doubt you could scare a common housefly into doing whatever kind of work it is that houseflies do, if anything.” It was true. Max wasn't exactly the person that people went to whenever they needed someone straightened out and given a good talking to. Come to think of it, Brent hasn't exactly seen Max be intimidating at all. Hell, if you look at him, he's far from the model man. Pale. Freakishly long digits. Large, doe eyes. The hips of a woman. Maxwell Sommartini. The epitome of manly. ”Yes, the way you dress.. What? Brent titled his head a bit, confused as to what caused Max's sudden change in conversation. Oh, yes. He grinned when Max began shouting, alerting the other patrons of the night to their existence over in the corner. ”I..I'm not entirely sure. I've got a meeting this weekend with a rep to set all of that up. I'm not the only one who's going places. Try “we” instead.” He gave Max a smug grin. There was just no way in hell he was about to go on tour and leave him behind to miss out on all of the fun that was to be had. All the weed that Max could ever desire and Brent now had it in the palm of his hand. Hell, if things went the way that Brent has planned for the night, Max will always be within arms' reach of Brent. Surely, the rep will do whatever he sees fit to accommodate Brent and his few request.

Brent silently watched as Max took a moment to compose himself before beginning again and going on about how happy he was for Brent. ”Thanks man. I..I'm a bit terrified of the whole lifestyle that comes with this contract.” Pretty much. The one thing that he was worried about more than anything was losing Max to his new lifestyle. The fear of him possibly becoming so caught up in the world of fame and leaving Max behind terrified him. Regardless, Brent found it fit that Max be at his side the entire time during his first tour. After all, the album was inspired off of their friendship and what he once believed to be unrequited love. Chills of anticipation shot down Brent's spine as Max mentioned that he had saved a special type of bud for an occasion as such. He licked his lips, anticipating the high that was soon to come later on into the night. ”Oh god. I can only imagine.”

Oh lord. Brent snorted as Max questioned his sobriety, that typical awkward Max laugh following almost immediately. ”Pretty much. I'll pinky swear that I'm pretty sober. After all, I'm still sipping on my first glass of champagne.” He added as Max expressed his inability to think, let alone speak with a clear train of though. ”Well...Let me..” Never mind. Brent found his words cut short, Max's fingers twisted in his shirt and their lips.. Oh god. Was this what an actual kiss felt like? Was this truly happening? A volcano of emotions erupted, sending waves of heat to the tips of his fingers. Brent could feel his knees quaking beneath Max's touch and as fast as it had happened, it ended. Brent settled back into his seat, eyes wide, lips tingling. He smiled, fingertips brushing over his lips. ”Yeah. I...I think you pretty much got what I was trying to say.”Brent breathed out heavily, shaken fingers carding through his hair. Every single bit of Brent was burning, hungry for more than just one kiss. God, there would never be enough in their lifetime.

[MAXWELL ADRIAN SOMMARTINI]

Max let out a quiet and (obviously) extremely manly giggle, "Thrilling? I guess it could be, though I'm probably going to kill you," Max had a reputation in high school for being one of the biggest klutzes. Sadly, that reputation never went away. One of Max's other reputations was being fluffy in nearly every way. The only way he wasn't fluffy was when he was hugged. He was too bony to be fluffy in that sense. Max let out another giggle, "Yeah, I'm not too intimidating I guess. Good thing I don't make enemies." He let out a sigh and took another sip of his drink. He had forgotten what fine wine tastes like, and frankly, liquor in general. He took another sip with the hopes that it might help him process this information--the information that his best friend was now a signed musician. It didn't. "I, I just can't believe it! It's about damned time you had your moment," And then Max finally processed the last bit, "W-wait, what do you mean we!? You know I don't play any instruments--" And then he got it, "You want me to come with you? Seriously? I can't imagine I'll be much fun on the road," It was probably true. Max was the living epitome of the deadly sin Sloth. If he could, he would sit on his couch reading or playing video games and smoking his life away. Unfortunately, that wasn't a possibility for him. He had to pay the bills somehow, and he needed his education--he firmly believed that he couldn't face his mother in the next life if he didn't do something decent with his life. Though, being a professor of classical languages probably wasn't what she expected for her firstborn and only son.

"I'm sure you'll do fine though. No, no, more than fine. You'll do amazing! And if you don't, I'll hire someone to beat you," Because heaven knows Max couldn't beat him--especially not Brent--or anyone, for that matter. He grinned, "And if you really want me there with you, well then by Zeus, I'll be there," He trailed off and looked away, "As long as, you know, it doesn't interfere with my education. I have a reputation to uphold as a good little classics nerd." Max knew, deep down though, he'd find a way to make it work. He loved Brent as a brother and, well, he knew he loved him as more that two. They were two sides of the same fucked up coin and he'd spent more than enough time separated from him, Max wasn't exactly yearning for anymore separation if it was possible.

Max still was shaking when they broke off their hasty kiss, "I-I did? So, I, uhh, didn't fuck anything up?" He was pretty sure he didn't, based on that extremely attractive look on Brent's face. It wouldn't be the first time that Max had jumped the gun on something like this, and he wasn't in the mood for a brutal rejection, especially from his best friend. "So, ahh," He trailed off, absolutely unable to figure out what he was trying to say. The only abysmal thing that came to him was "You, you know I'm pretty monogamous, right? I mean, not pretty monogamous, I am monogamous." He wasn't sure why exactly that was the first thing that came to mind after such an intimate moment. Maybe it was his nerves, his fears that loomed in his heart. He knew he couldn't deal with affairs, he couldn't deal with even the thought of his Brent (yes, his) with someone else. Max had enough of dealing with that shit in high school, seeing his love and best friend fucking his worries away.

He shook the bad thoughts out of his mind, there was a time and a place for that. "I figure...you probably know that already though," But then, there was something else. "But why now? And why me? I mean, I'm not complaining, oh no, God forbid! I just," Again, Max trailed off. He would love to shake his insecurities away just like his bad thoughts, but that wasn't exactly a possibility. He was full of those, always had been since those dreary years he called high school. "I mean, it's probably better," and now his mind was moving faster than his lips. He backtracked so he could make himself clear. "I'm just, I threw myself at you back when I lived in Phoenix. So why now? It's definitely better. We all know high school relationships don't last, but I just don't--" He stopped, rubbed sanity back into his face and started again. "Never mind. Why am I so mopey! This is fucking fantastic! I-I, ahh, damn it, Brent, I've been in love with you since then. I tried to ignore it, but it was always there. I just, wow. Wow!" And with that, he was feeling a little better. His hands had stopped shaking, he could breathe and finally, after so many years, he could think clearly. The brain pollution was gone. Finally.

[BRENTLEY BOYD MILLER]

Brent rolled his eyes, lips pursed as Max added on to their yoga related conversations. ”Oh, whatever. I doubt you...and your whole tininess could do anything that would result in my untimely death.” Yeah, Max was a renounced klutz back home. He was the only person that Brent knew who could successfully trip over air and make it seem like there was actually something there. He shrugged, ”At least you're not a meathead. I prefer you as some small, non-intimidating ball of fluff and yes, not having enemies is a great thing. I was an idiot in high school and couldn't keep my lips sealed.” It was true, Brent always felt the need to talk shit and stir up stupid little fights and if he wasn't stirring up problems, he had his tongue on the inside of some girl's cheek. Some girl who probably had a boyfriend that Brent knew about. Ever since he moved to Boston, he's managed to keep himself in check and avoid hooking up with girls who weren't single. Then again, Brent hasn't been involved with a girl since he moved here a few months back. Before tonight, it's been nothing but guys. Guys who eerily resembled Max. It was the closest he felt that he would ever get to his dream.

”I can't believe it either. It just seems...surreal. All of this.” Brent smiled warmly, fingers rubbing the smooth surface of his glass. His lips formed a thin line, the corners of his mouth twitching as Max reminded Brent that he didn't play any instruments. Finally, it hit him and he questioned Brent about whether he actually wanted him on tour with him. ”Seriously, dude. It'll be epic and I'd enjoy having someone around that I actually know. Y'know how I am about being alone.” He wagged a finger at Max, a wicked grin now on his features. Oh yes. Some fun would definitely take place between the two while on tour. Oh the possibilities.

He set the empty glass down, grateful that there was someone left on this ungodly planet that had confidence in him. Maybe Max will have enough to share with him for those moments where he finds himself surrounded by doubt and fear. ”Thanks man...” Brent quirked a brow, ”I dunno about that beating. I may like it more than anything. So, the intentions given with it might go to waste.” He couldn't help but tease Max. It was just too much fun. Hands threw into the air, a mile wide grin exposing his oddly white teeth. ”Great! It really means a lot that you're going to come with me.” Thank god. Brent was worried that he was gonna have to actually socialize with his future band mates instead of keeping to himself in the only room on the bus with Max. Of course. Brent wafted a hand in the air, waving away Max's education nonsense. ”Don't you worry my beloved nerd. I'll make sure that this will all work out in the end.” He patted Max's cheek, making a ridiculous face while doing so.

Wild eyed, Brent stared at Max and his absurd question. ”Fuck..” He heaved out, still struggling to catch his breath. ”No. God, no. You did everything but fuck up. Shit.” Brent finished, a river of swears rolling beneath his breath. He inhaled, calming his shaken nerves. There was absolutely nothing to fear now. He ducked his head, finger fidgeting with the skirt of his shirt, mind replaying the kiss that Brent had longed for and finally received. Silence fell for a mere second before Max broke it, Brent's eyes darting up to meet his. He nodded as Max explained how he was monogamous.

”Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to give a little reminder. Don't worry though, I intended to keep you all to myself. I'm out of that stage. So, you won't have to worry about any of that shit. I promise. So, I'm now officially monogamous as well!” Brent exclaimed, the most sincere look on his face as he promised loyalty to him. This was it. Surely, it caught Brent off guard but he was ready and he understood why Max went ahead and reminded him. Even if he didn't remind Brent, he had every intention this being only him and Max. Nobody else will be allowed into their kingdom. Brent. Brent was absolutely fine with this. It was what he wanted for years and there's not a single living soul on this planet....Fuck this entire universe that could compare to Max.

Great fucking question. ”I...I was just scared and it hit me after I moved here that if I didn't make a move soon, I might end up losing my chance at winning your heart and I couldn't bare the thought of losing you to someone and well...Because, we fit together so perfectly. I know you're not. If you were complaining, I'd have beat you senseless.” He smiled, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes taking Max in with a whole new light. Yeah, now that Brent thought about it, Max sure as fuck was as obvious as a wolf in a pack of sheep. Damn it Brent. You're a fucking oblivious son of a bitch. ”Fuck.” He leaned back into the plushness of the booth, brows stitched together.”You did, didn't you? God. I didn't fucking..Well, fuck me.” A weak laugh escaped him, stupidity washing over him in a heated wave. He shook his head as Max waved away his thoughts, reminding himself of the current situation, exclaiming how fantastic it was and oh god.. Brent's cheeks instantly began burning, beginning to show of the brightest red. Max, he loved him. Shit, he loves him now and Brent fucking loves him too. This was the best night that Brent has ever had. Hands down. Brent leaned over the table, pulling Max in, his fingers cupping the back of his neck. ”I love you so fucking much Max.” He spoke softly, their lips only inches apart.

[MAXWELL ADRIAN SOMMARTINI]

Max let out a snicker, "You never know, I took my sister down one time and she's bigger than me too. So if I kill or maim you, well, I warned you." Max grinned. That particular instance, he had fallen out of a tree (in high school Max still climbed trees, he's that cool) and broke his leg. His sister came to open the car door and help him out, and instead of standing up and flailing about like a normal person with a broken leg on crutches would do, Max just fell flat on his face, taking Ilaria down with him. He almost knocked down his mom too, but luckily she had balance and grace, even when being pushed over and caught her balance. "You know, there was a time when I used to work out," Max trailed off. It was true, though his form of working out was going on a twenty-minute run once a week and then being brutally reminded that he had smoker's lungs and asthma. His many attempts at fitness usually failed and ended in the same way. "But at least you talked in high school. I was so stoned all the time I couldn't even fathom conversations." Max was frequently amazed that he even had friends in high school sometimes, considering that the height of his shyness happened in high school and the marijuana made him even quieter. But people like drugs and Max always had some, that probably accounted for 99% of his friend group. In fact, having drugs was probably the reason for all his friends save Brent and he wasn't even sure why Brent stuck around all through high school. Though you'd never hear Max complain about that, oh no.

Max beamed about the comment about the beating, "Well if you really want me to, I can put on some leather and whip your ass into shape. You never know, I might like it just as much as you." He winked. Max couldn't help but be happy for Brent, and he couldn't help being absolutely ecstatic that he seemed so happy that Max would come along with him. For some reason, though, he found himself thinking about the day he left Phoenix after graduation, when he realized that he wouldn't be able to go to university like everyone else in his graduating class. He uprooted his entire life on what seemed like a whim and moved to Boston. Why didn't I ask Brent to come with me then? Oh, oh, he wouldn't have though. It was probably better that way. There were aspects of Max's life that he never left behind, like his marijuana "problem" as some people put it. But had he not left, Max would probably be working at a dead-end job, and he couldn't imagine that his sister would be much better off. Statistics are never in the favour of the suddenly-orphaned teenagers that didn't have a father-figure to begin with. Max shrugged off these thoughts momentarily though, there were other times. "Yeah, yeah. Everything will work out. It has to! This is Moirae finally pushing us in the right direction." He then remembered that he wasn't talking to a classics nerd and corrected himself, "You know---wait, you probably don't know--Moirae, they're destiny in Greek mythology. I know, I know, I'm a nerd. You don't need to say it." He let out a hesitant laugh when he felt that nuisance of a blush return.

Max let out a hefty sigh after the kiss, "I--I wouldn't have been surprised, you know, if I fucked something up. I do that a lot." Max still wasn't sure why the first thing that had jumped into his brain was the crack about monogamy, but he was glad that he asked when he heard Brent's answer. "Wow, I, uhh, that's pretty damned hard to believe. I'm happy! Oh yes. I just, damn. How'd I manage to get your balls? I didn't know I had it in me!" He let out another awkward laugh, That was definitely not what I planned on saying there. Ahhh, loser Max, loser Max. Make everything awkward. Max wouldn't have a problem whatsoever being monogamous. He had basically become a celibate monk after starting graduate school. He had urges like nothing else though (OH MY GOD, I'm finally not going to have to jack off! Yes!) but never enough time between work, studying and smoking to actually go out and quest for people, even if it was just a one-night fuck. This would be a glorious, absolutely glorious change.

Max couldn't help but laugh a little at Brent's reasoning, "You actually thought you might lose me to someone? You have some serious faith in me. Or, you know what I mean. I don't do to well at getting men, apparently besides you. Which, frankly, is all I've ever really wanted so this whole change is going to work very, very well. I'm just, wow! Wow again! I'm surprised. I'm really fucking surprised." Max beamed as he stared at the man across the table. Were my fantasies that got me to sleep back then ever this good? He thought hard on that one, but came up with a no. The reality won out every time. This was real. He didn't need to fantasize and make himself depressed anymore because he finally had him.

And then Max got the girly butterflies when Brent said the words that Max swore on his life he'd never hear his best friend say. He felt himself stop breathing when he heard those words and his face was burning worse than it ever had before, Max expected. "Brent...I," Max wasn't really sure where he was going when he opened his mouth, so he said 'Fuck it' and decided to kiss Brent again. And oh god, those lips. This would never get old. Max could die right there and he'd be perfectly content with it.

No. No he wouldn't, and as fast as the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it out with dismay. Max broke off the kiss and ran his fingers through Brent's hair, he put his lips up against his ears and whispered, "Brent, it's, ahh, it's been a really long time. And I'm getting turned on and I cannot be held responsible for what I do to you now." He stopped talking and nibbled slightly on the curve of Brent's ear. "My apartment isn't far away, and I've...you know...I've got that bud." Max was quickly losing his suave and so, to stop himself from saying something embarrassing or just nerdy, he stopped talking. He was pretty sure that he was red all the way down to his chest, and he didn't even want to think of what all the people around him were saying. He was sure they were staring. But for the second time that night, Max said 'fuck it' to himself and stopped caring. Let them stare.

[BRENTLEY BOYD MILLER]

Seriously? Max, taking down his sister? Sure. Brent snorted, giving Max a doubtfully amused look. ”Yeah, okay big guy.” He waved his hands in the air, feigning fear. There was just..there was bound to be a back story behind him just taking down his sister. Max was as dangerous as two week old kitten. He had Brent shaking in his skin. Oh this, this was just too much. Now, Max worked out. How, it was beyond Brent. The guy smoked more than a chimney in the winter. ”Oh did you now? Walking to school doesn't count as exercise. You lived like two blocks away.” He couldn't help but tease Max. Oh lord. What if he actually was capable of retaining some sort of muscle mass. Brent nodded as Max continued on, it was true. Brent did talk. A lot. Sometimes too much. ”At least your mouth was shut long enough to avoid conflict. I was always in a fight.” Brent added in what appeared to be a tone of complete and total pride. Well, with his track record, Brent had quite a lot to be proud of. The boy managed to rack up a total of 120 fights throughout the four years of high school. Out of those fights, Brent only lost four and each of those were completely unfair. The pussy that he was fighting each time brought his friends and they all ganged up on Brent. Again, unfair and in his book, they don't exactly count.

Brent's eyes widened as Max added that he could throw some leather on and break out the whip. He swallowed hard, unsure of whether to burst out laughing or be afraid. Just the mental image of Max in skin tight leather with a frayed whip in the other hand was too much and sure enough, Brent lost it. Tears began pooling in the corner of his eyes, ”Would...would you wear this leather just to humor me? I'll put it on so you can laugh in exchange. Just for the love of humanity. I have to see this.” Dipshit. You should've moved with Max. Brent had thought long and hard shortly after Max packed his bags and headed to Boston. Oh, how he was absolutely tempted to follow him but..that would've been weird. Right? Well, regardless. Brent made some excuse up for appearing not too long ago, claiming that the music scene was better in Boston and his chances of getting spotted by a scout were much high. Well, to his surprise, his little white lie turned out to play in his favors and Brent was signed to Capitol not too long after relocating to Boston. He arched a brow as Max went on about some person named Moirae, arms folded over his chest. Before he could even question who the fuck this Moirae was and why they hadn't pushed him and Max together sooner than that day, he informed Brent that Moriae had something to do with that Greek mythology stuff he was studying. ”A cute nerd.” He added, grinning at the sight of a faint blush against the pale of Max's skin.

Oh, Maxwell. Brent shook his head, a mile wide grins stretched across his features. ”You've yet to fuck anything up with me.” He snorted, Max definitely had Brent by his balls. Whatever he wanted, Brent would have it as soon as possible with a bright, red ribbon wrapped around it. ”I know! But, I just...I'm sick of waking up to strange faces.” Brent grinned, ”That smile is what got me. It's just..the greatest.” Monogamy was definitely an alien term to Brent but with enough repetition, he was bound to get it down. With Max, this was going to be a lot easier that if he were with someone else. Max means the absolute world to Brent. God forbid he ever loses him. The poor guy would be utterly lost for all eternity without his beloved Max.

Sure, Brent told a lot of people that he loved them. But, those times that he told those foolish people who even thought for a minute he was really in love, those words that Brent fed them.. They were empty and had no meaning behind them. This time, for the first time in his life, Brent actually meant it with every fiber of his being when those three words came from his mouth. Shit, too soon? Brent felt his cheeks begin to flush as Max only managed to put together his name and the beginnings of a sentence that would never be finished. Shit. Shit. Shit. Maybe it was too soon for the I love you. Brent felt himself shudder beneath Max as their lips bruised together again. God, there was just no way he'd be able to get enough of this. What the fuck was that pounding? Oh, that's just Brent's obnoxious heart. He couldn't even hear himself think over how ridiculously loud it was. Shit, could Max hear it? From the way it sounded in the back of Brent's head, the whole fucking restaurant could hear it. Brent groaned, pulling himself closer Max, fingers twisting in his shirt unavoidably stretching the fabric.

Pupils blown, Brent's gaze locked with Max's as he explained how it'd been quite a long time since well...yeah. He twisted beneath Max, a sharp heat shooting directly through his spine as he nibbled on his ear. ”Yeah. We..should.” The ability to form a half coherent sentence now completely gone from his tongue and mind. Brent waved a hand around as he struggled to form simple words. ”It'd be best to yeah. Me too. Let's..just. Shit.” He was losing it. Brent exhaled, smoothing his shirt as he settled back in his side of the booth. Maybe a private dinner would've been a better idea. At least they could've fucked on his table without the fear of getting charged with public indecency.

[MAXWELL ADRIAN SOMMARTINI]

Max couldn't lie, he didn't even bother with exercise in high school. It was when he moved to Boston and was living on his own that he got paranoid the munchies and shit food he ate was going to make him chubby. But as it turned out, exercise usually ended up worse for him than if he just sat on his couch with his bong. He never had asthma attacks when he smoked weed. Therefore, it was the more logical option. "Hey! That was good exercise. I actually tried when I moved here. It didn't work." He didn't bother elaborating. It was pretty obvious. Back in high school, Max was the shy little awkward stoner that wanted his best friend's balls. He never talked. But, what he did learn in high school was that math was exceedingly easier when high. It was the only way he got an A in calculus, something he still doesn't fully understand how he pulled that one off. "Yeah, that's true. Nobody ever bothered me. I always felt bad though, I could never help you in those fights. I would have just gotten my ass kicked." All he ever did after fights was tend to Brent like a good little nurse. He wasn't exactly fond of that, but it was better than nothing.

Max couldn't help but start laughing once Brent got going. "Well, if you buy me some nice leather, I'd wear it for you." Then he really started laughing. "But nobody gets to hear or see that, it would be so embarrassing!" Max let out a snicker at the "cute nerd" comment. "I think you're one of the few people who can say that with a straight face." His blush grew and Max let out a sigh. It wasn't going away for quite a while.

Max beamed and ran his fingers through his hair, one of his many nervous habits. "I-I don't know how," he trailed off. Max truly had no idea how exactly he had bagged this beautiful man sitting across the table from him. Max was just a shy graduate student with not much going for him save academia. Brent was nothing but beautiful, outgoing and energetic. How did it work, the two of them? But he would be damned before he ever complained. How many times had he woken up from a very enticing dream with Brent in it? He couldn't count. Even after high school, he had those dreams. He had them after he moved to Boston, even years after when Max thought he was fully over him, his fantasies told him different. But he didn't need to fantasize anymore because, somehow, finally, he was getting what he had wanted for so many dreary years. Life, it was finally looking up. That was something he never expected to happen, at least, not in the romantic department. Again, Max smiled when Brent commented on his smile. It would take years though, for Max to explain what it was about Brent that got to him. Honestly, he wasn't even sure what specifically it was. His velvety voice? That certainly was a turn on for Max (Oh god, oh god, if he moans the way I've dreamed...) he let out an unconscious shutter. His looks? Everything about him in that department was a gift from Max's atheist god. But it was probably that energy that he emitted. Max could never explain it, but he felt happy, normal, when he was with him. It was something he felt with no one else. I guess...that's probably what they call love, isn't it?

But then there were those lovely, soft lips of his. Perfect in every way. Max undoubtedly loved that, though he hadn't know what he was missing out on until this day. Max put all of his mental willpower into keeping his control under wraps. If he didn't, he knew he was probably going to get kind of loud, and that would be wholly embarrassing for everyone involved, including the spectators. When Brent grabbed his shirt, Max felt touches of his self-control fading away slowly. But it was getting to the point that he didn't really give a shit. After they broke away, before Brent managed to get back to his side of the table, Max kissed him again. A soft, cute, there's-more-where-that-came-from kind of kiss.

Max, back in his area, took another sip of his drink, trying to purify his thoughts. It didn't work very well. He smirked a touch though, when he noticed how affected Brent was by him. Well damn, Max, when did you get so sexy? "It's probably a good idea for us to go immediately." He grinned and winked at the man across the table. When Max spotted the waiter, he asked for the check. "Yeah, we need to go now." The thoughts of the rest of the night were making his test of self-control go very, very poorly.