Chapter Text
For the past eight months, Max's life had been incredibly tolerable.
It'd take nothing short of a knife to the throat for him to admit he sincerely enjoyed it, of course. Still, he refused to outright denounce the situation to anyone who asked, as it felt like a giant slap in the face to the man who put his life on pause to provide him with shelter and unwavering support.
This particular morning was detrimental to the future of Max's life here, and could possibly determine whether he slept in a bed tonight or on the streets. Okay- that was a tad bit hyperbolic. He highly doubted that David of all people would kick out a defenseless child, but it was still a possibility he had to consider.
The moment he blinked into consciousness, Max hopped from bed and yanked a hoodie over his head, stuffing a stack of papers and a ballpoint pen he'd hidden in his dresser into its pocket. He was eager to get this over as quickly as possible, even though the butterflies in his stomach begged him to postpone it a few hours. Max ignored the nervousness rising in his gut to the best of his ability and padded out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.
As he arrived, he noticed David standing at the stove flipping pancakes. Max walked to the counter directly behind him and attempted to pull himself onto a barstool. "Morning, sleepyhead!" David glanced behind his shoulder and greeted. The child gritted out a half-hearted attempt at a response, still unsuccessfully trying to hop onto the seat that he barely reached eye level with. Upon recognizing Max's struggle, David set down his spatula and crossed the counter. "Lemme help," he said, hoisting the boy upwards from under his arms. Max huffed in defiance at the unwanted assistance, but decided against kneeing David in the gut like he had last time. It apparently hurt and could've potentially ruptured his internal organs, or something of the sort. It sounded like fabricated bullshit, but Max didn't want to be lectured on violence and the proper ways to express his feelings again.
"I really need to invest in some smaller furniture," David murmured to himself before heading back towards the stove. Once his egg-shaped timer beeped, the redhead carefully placed two pancakes onto each plate that was set on the nearby counter.
"Any dreams last night?" David casually asked as he set down a (small) mug of coffee in front of Max, along with his dish. He insisted that the ten year old drink orange juice or milk on school days, but was willing to compromise during the weekend.
"Not really," Max admitted before snatching the cup and taking a large gulp, completely immune to its temperature after years of consuming the scalding drink. Truthfully, Max hadn't gotten enough rest the previous night to properly dream. He'd spent the majority of it tossing around in bed while worrying about the coming day, anxiety swirling in his gut like a pack of rabid bears. When he did manage to drift off, he dreamt solely of the walls of a police station he'd been dragged to after being found running away from home. Max refused to tell David this, for obvious reasons.
The pair doused their respective plates in syrup and proceeded to eat in a comfortable silence that Max was greatly appreciative of. Despite how excitable and loud his foster dad typically was, he still possessed to capacity to realize when Max was too tired to talk, and never forced him to do so. The quiet also allotted him extra time to internally rehearse precisely what he wanted to say. He'd been figuring it out over the course of the entire week, but it never hurt to practice just in case he lost track of his words.
Once they both finished, David set their dirty plates in the sink and squeezed a dollop of detergent over them each and left the dishes to soak.
"I need to talk to you about something," Max said as soon as David turned back around, instantly berating himself at how timid he sounded. Wonderful, this was spiraling out of his control before it'd even begun.
"What's up, bud?" David asked, reclaiming the seat next to Max. He was maintaining a smile, yet there was an unmistakable twinge of concern lacing his tone.
Max peered down at his lap and stuck his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, busying himself with twirling around the pen strategically tucked inside. He took a deep breath to calm his steadily increasing nerves and spoke before he could completely back out. "I really like living here!" he blurted, tightly balling his fists as if doing so would aid in forcing out the words. David's eyes widened in surprise before his mouth twitched upwards into a bright grin. "Well, I like having you here!"
"Shut up!" Max snapped. If he was going to recite his speech verbatim he couldn't afford any interruptions. His foster dad appeared momentarily taken aback, but kept grinning regardless- truly, nothing could ruin Max openly admitting to liking his home life.
"I like living here, and-" he paused, digging his nails further into his palms until crescents materialized on his skin. Shit, he'd thrown him off and made him forget what came next. He really should've made index cards like Neil suggested, but the idea was too tacky for him to go through with.
"Max? Are you okay?" David placed a hand on his shoulder, which the child promptly shrugged off. He didn't want to make David concerned, dammit, he just needed to tell him that he appreciated him. Was that really so hard to do without screwing up?
"I'm-" he tried once more, only for his voice to hitch in his throat. Max released his fists to shield his eyes from sight, dragging tiny hands down the length of his face in frustration. "Shit. I've already fucked up so badly, just-" he reached into his pocket and retrieved a stack of neatly folded papers, "-take these." Max shoved them into David's hands like he intended to give him a nasty paper cut.
The child squirmed in his seat as David blinked down at the documents with an unreadable expression. Max wished with every miniscule fiber of his being that he would say something, absolutely anything to break the palpable tension that hung between them; alas, it only extended as David silently leafed through the papers, his eyes scanning over the small font.
"You don't have to say yes," Max finally managed, his voice exuding nervousness. He was mostly preparing himself for the rejection that was inevitably about to come, but he also felt like David might need a sharp reminder that he wasn't obligated to agree. Max knew deep within his mind that he wouldn't want to be permanently stuck with a kid as awful as him, but he was also aware that David was the kind of sucker to be guilted into doing so.
"I don't care if you say no," he murmured, still mostly speaking to himself. "It's stupid anyways. I just thought... I dunno what I thought. I guess it started when I got in trouble with a substitute last month and she threatened to call my 'legal guardian.' It took a minute for me to realize she meant you, because I'd been thinking of you as my dad for so long. Then I realized you're technically not, and it made me weirdly sad. You do everything that a normal, sane parent should for their kid, even though you technically don't have to. You could send me away whenever you get tired of dealing with me, and I know there's times you should, like when I bring home bad math grades or slap the neighbours kid, but you... don't. You've never given up on me." Max mustered all the courage within his small frame and chanced a glance up towards David. "And I- holy shit, are you crying?!"
David's eyes were, indeed, red and glistening with unshed tears that threatened to spill with the slightest of movements. "You really want me to adopt you?" He asked in a shaky voice full of elated surprise.
"Um... yes?" Max hoped that was the correct response.
Evidently it was, as he was engulfed in a gigantic hug immediately after answering.
"Of course!" David practically babbled, pulling him as close as humanely possible. Relief spread throughout Max's body as he struggled to hug his dad back, his limbs momentarily frozen out of shock.
David pulled away after a moment but kept his hands securely on Max's shoulders. "Why would I ever say no to that, Max?" He asked incredulously, his bright grin sharply contrasting the tears streaming down his cheeks. "I love you more than anything on this planet, and I want nothing more than for you to legally be my son."
Max had to blink back hot tears that'd begun to prick at his own eyes. He could hardly believe that he was so paralyzed by the fear of rejection that he lost sight of who David was, and how much he truly cared for him. "I love you too, Dad," he sniffled, flinging his arms around David.
Even though Max usually detested physical affection of any kind, he was currently determined to hug the shit out of David. "Thank you," he mumbled against his shoulder, basking in the warmth and security of the embrace.
"You're so, so welcome, kiddo." They remained like that for a minute more before a burning question suddenly crossed David's mind. "Hey, Max?"
"Yeah-huh?"
"How did you get ahold of adoption papers?"
"I printed them out at the library, duh."
"...You did what now?"