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Max sighed and rested his cheek in his hand. He took a brief glance at the old grandfather clock, its face showing it was already well past midnight. His gaze shifted to Professor Fate, who didn't pay him any attention. They'd been holed up in their study all night, scheming yet another plot to humiliate the Great Leslie. Well, the Professor had been scheming, Max was only allowed to sit and watch. Not that he minded, though: watching the Professor Fate plot and scheme was a privilege, an honor, and it never got old.
Max kept staring intently at the Professor as he scrawled away on a blueprint for what he was sure would be some delightfully evil new invention. He couldn't help but feel his cheeks grow warm. Even after all the years that they'd been together, he couldn't help but admire how the Professor got when he was working. His furrowed brow, his screwed-up grimace, the hateful, maniacal glint in his eyes; everything about him was so perfect and Max wished so badly he would-
"MAAAAAAX!"
"Yes, Professor!" Max jumped up, startled out of his daydream before it had even begun.
"Ah, I forgot. You're right there," Fate stood and rolled up the paper he'd been writing on. "I was going to tell you, I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
"Do you want me to carry you?"
"Considering that the last time you tried that, you dropped me down a flight of stairs - no." The Professor turned and strode away without another word.
"Oh. Okay, then," Max mumbled and trotted along behind.
The Professor had always had an exact way he wanted things at bedtime, and Max didn't ever dare to disappoint him. He understood full well how important it was for a genius like Fate to get his proper rest each night. How else would he be able to be so brilliantly villainous during the day? Not to mention, Max had to be up early too: his mind was already abuzz with thoughts of what he could make for their breakfast tomorrow.
But he was getting ahead of himself. As Fate went off to get changed for bed, Max instead hurried to the bedroom. It was the largest one in the whole mansion, and he and Fate shared its massive, king-size canopy bed. Of course, Max once had his own room. One day, though, the Professor realized it was much easier to simply have Max at his side when he didn't care to get out of bed, rather than yell for him. He'd ordered him to move into the main bedroom at once, a change that Max welcomed eagerly. Each night, he felt elated as he scampered about setting the room in order. He made sure the bed was still as perfect as when he'd made it that morning, setting everything just as he knew the Professor liked it. Max arranged Fate's many pillows in a great pile, keeping only one for his own side of the bed. Finally, with everything perfectly in its place, he changed into his own pajamas.
Just as every day Max and Fate wore matching outfits, every night they wore the same pajamas. They were black with thin red stripes and had a large red F embroidered on the breast pocket, all matched with a little black nightcap. Max was immensely proud of them, seeing as he'd been the one to hand-stitch the embroidery. When he'd shown the Professor his finished handiwork, his only response had been a disinterested grunt. But, he soon began to wear them every night, and that was all the reward Max wanted. A dumb smile spread across his face as he saw Fate stride in through the bedroom door, pajamas and all.
"Good God, Max," Fate tossed himself onto the bed. "You have no idea how exhausting it is to be me."
"I know, Professor," Max said. He hurried over and pulled the bed's comforter up, gently tucking Fate in before layering another blanket over top.
"No, you imbecile, you don't. That's the whole point," Fate groaned.
Max ignored the Professor's insult. He was already lost in his thoughts again. Seated next to Fate on the edge of the bed, it would've been so easy to lean in and give him a goodnight kiss. But he knew he'd never be allowed to do it, and that hurt more than any put-down the Professor could come up with. Sheepishly he stood and went back to his own side of the bed.
He'd hardly had a second to lay down before the Professor barked another order at him. "Max! I want an extra pillow tonight! Be a good boy and go fetch me another one."
Max felt the color drain from his face. "But, master…these pillows on the bed are all we got…" Max was already kicking himself. How could he be saying this? He should've anticipated that Fate might've asked for something like this. Surely he'd be furious! Maybe it wasn't too late to run out to the shops and buy another one, Max thought. He would have bought the whole store if it would please Fate.
"Hmph. Fine." Fate grabbed the only pillow from Max's side of the bed and added it to his already enormous stack. "This one will have to do."
Max didn't protest. If the Professor was happy, he was happy. He went over to his side of the bed and laid down, tugging what little bit of the blanket was left up over himself. "Good night, Professor." He murmured softly.
"Good night, Max." The Professor replied. He blew out the candle lighting his side of the bed, and Max did the same.
Sleep didn't come easy that night. Max stared up at the bottom of the canopy for what felt like hours. It didn't help that, in his sleep, Fate yanked away Max's side of the blankets, leaving him exposed to the room's chilly air. He shivered, but he didn't want to disturb the Professor by trying to take it back. Nor could he bring himself to toss and turn; not that it'd help anyway. No, something else was missing.
Max sighed. Slowly, he turned to look at the Professor, his eyes closed and his breathing soft. Sure, he felt Fate was already perfect when they were working, but it was times like this that Max adored him even beyond that. His heart fluttered in his chest as he took it all in. If the Professor ever caught him looking at him like this during the day, no doubt it'd result in another bout of yelling. But for now, Max had all the time in the world to take it in, and he was going to savor every second of it. For once, Fate looked calm, even peaceful. Moonlight came in through the window, gently framing his features. Each soft crease of his skin, each curve of his bone structure: Max had never been to an art museum, but he was sure that if he did, none of it could compare to the beauty of moments like this.
And yet, Max's heart ached with longing. He desperately wanted more than this. There were barely a few feet between him and his beloved Professor, yet it felt like miles. Max took a deep breath and slowly inched his body a few inches closer to the Professor. Fate shifted slightly, and Max froze. Was he still awake? Max cringed to think of the barrage of insults he'd receive if caught. A minute passed, then another, and all the while he felt like he could barely breathe. Fate did not stir. The only thing Max was afraid of now, was losing his nerve. He moved closer still, praying silently that he wouldn't wake Fate.
He did always wonder why Fate never seemed to want anything to do with him. For years, Max had been faithfully devoted to him, at his beck and call for every want and need. And, for all that, the Professor showed no warmth in return. Maybe, Max thought, he was too frightened to show it. Someone like Fate, whose whole persona was built of hatred and malice - how could it not bleed over into his private life? But to Max, it didn't matter - he still deserved love, and through everything in his power he was going to be the one to give it.
A wave of relief swept over Max as finally, he rested his chin on the crook of Fate's shoulder. His heart pounded; God, he'd never been so happy in his entire life. His mind was filled with fantasies; just to imagine the bliss of feeling like this every day was overwhelming. Would Fate feel the same? If only he understood how Max really felt, they could get past all the pretense and start to be truly happy. These clandestine, quiet moments could bloom into something more: a love for the both of them to share freely and happily.
Max slipped his arm over to Professor’s waist, clutching onto him like a giant teddy bear. Yes, he could dream. But for now, that was all this moment was to be: a dream. He took one last glance at the Professor. No matter what happened, this little moment of peace was all worth it. They were together, and that was all that mattered. Max planted a small kiss on Fate’s jawline, before nuzzling back into his shoulder. For once, he felt warm, soft, and safe. Max had never been happier.
“Good night, Professor…” He whispered, and at last, he slept like a baby.