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Max feels bone dead tired. His muscles hurt from work and all he really wants to do is get in the shower and pass out in bed.
His key doesn't rattle in the lock, he's never understood the want for keyrings, so the only thing on his is the house and car keys. It's a stark difference between him and his roommate - Richie - who seems to have enough keyrings on his single set of keys that he could open a small stall at a market if he decided he didn't want them. Speaking of Richie, Max hopes the shower isn't being occupied as he shuts the door.
His worry is quickly dispelled though when he sees Richie on the couch. Or, well, on the guy sat on the couch. They look pretty occupied with making out, though. Max clears his throat and drops his keys on the kitchen countertop.
The pair startles, their panting making Max's skin crawl as he turns to look at Richie. He gives Max a half apologetic grin. Max just rolls his eyes.
He looks down at the man on the couch. He's half certain that he's seen this one before. It's not that Richie brings home guys often. It's just that Max tries to ignore them when he does. But this one seems familiar. Either it's someone he's met from his job, or Richie's been messing around with him for a while.
"Sorry, man." Richie says, relaxing slightly as he gets out of the guy's lap. Max shakes his head.
"It's fine. I'm gonna shower and then crash, so." He gestures vaguely at the pair. "Don't let me stop you." The effort he has to put in to hold back instinctual venom surprises him. He's never felt like this when Richie's brought back guys before.
The shower passed without much fanfare, but shortly after settling into bed, Richie knocked at his door.
"Hm?"
Richie opens the door and settles against the doorframe. He avoids looking Max in the eyes. "I just wanted to apologise for earlier. I didn't think you'd be back for a while." He's got this awkward and nervous tinge in his smile and it sends a weird feeling through Max that he pushes away.
He shakes his head. "Nah, man. It's fine. You live here, too. Do what you want." He dismisses it, sitting up against his pillows. Richie hums.
"It was just. Really awkward, right?" Max snorts.
"Yeah. Just a bit."
Richie seems to relax a bit. "Good. I'm just. Really embarrassed."
"Well, I am too, dude." Max smiles slightly. "I didn't exactly plan on walking in on you." He swallows slightly at the memory.
Richie nods his understanding before saying goodnight and leaving the room.
---
The feelings only seem to get worse from there. It seems to spread like a poison in Max's veins, settling deeper and deeper every time he realises there is a guy over. It makes bile rise to his throat every time he sees an extra head in the house.
It's conflicting. Max has never considered himself homophobic. He's known Richie was gay since before they even moved in together, over a year ago, and he's never had a problem until now. He doesn't know why he feels so disgusted when a guy is over, wishing they would just leave.
It comes to a head when Max is walking in from work and a guy is walking out. It's a new face, not even slightly recognisable. But he tries to be polite as Max is walking in, regardless.
"You alright?" He says, polite smile on his face.
Max pauses a moment, rolls his eyes and just gives a short "Yeah" before dropping his keys on the counter and going upstairs. He didn't even look at Richie. He can't help sucking his teeth as he sits on the foot of his bed. His skin crawls with the knowledge that shortly before now, those two were-
He stops himself, feeling the pulsing anger and disgust once again tinting his blood. He almost dispels it before Richie opens his door without so much of a knock. Annoyance taints the already bad mixture in his gut.
"What the fuck was that about?" He asks. His hands are wide, almost flailing. He's clearly reached the breaking point with Max. He can feel the disgust he's feeling. The thought makes Max bite his tongue, turning away from Richie.
"It's nothing."
"No. No, no, no." Richie shakes his head, anger evident. "Why're you being an asshole?" Max must leave the silence too long because Richie starts to draw up reasons to rationalize Max's behaviour. "Do you have an issue with me sleeping with other guys?"
"What? No." Max shakes his head, looking at Richie again. His throat feels tight. Richie just looks even more enraged.
"Good, because you have no room to complain after I was put through seeing you be like this with that girl back when we first moved in." Richie crosses his arms and settles slightly. He's stationary in the centre of Max's room.
Max nods. "No, I know. I was just- having a bad day, is all. I don't care about who you sleep with."
Richie frowns, shaking his head. His fists clench around his arms. "I'm gonna go to Ruth's to cool off." Max nods. Richie turns and heads to Max's door to leave. He pauses in the doorway. He turns back and looks at Max. Max feels like he's being inspected, taken apart piece by piece to learn what's underneath. He feels sick. Richie hums. "So… You'd be okay if I slept with someone, as long as I do it at his house and not ours, right?"
Max's stomach turns over and he feels worse than before. He locks that feeling behind his face. "It's none of my business what you do at someone else's house." His stomach feels like a rock tumbler, every dropping stone a tick on a clock counting him down to a destination he doesn't want to reveal.
---
Richie only comes back the next evening, despite him and Max having plans to see Stephanie that morning.
It's the first time Richie has ever blown off plans without so much as a message before, but Max figures he probably deserves this. He made Richie feel like he was being judged for sleeping with guys. Steph definitely knew something was going on the whole time, but she didn't mention it. Knowing her, she was probably waiting for a tipping point to arrive where Max would cave and ask for her advice on whatever went on between him and Richie.
That point didn't come, though, and Max went back home to a just as empty house that afternoon as he left it in the morning.
When Richie did come back, he acted like nothing had happened. There has been no more guys over, yet.
Max's stomach turns uncomfortably whenever he thinks of it happening. How the thought of Richie with a guy makes him sick to his stomach to think about. The feeling he can only describe as disgust coursing through his whole body. It wasn't even like he was homophobic now.
Whenever he saw a gay couple out in public, there was no negative feelings. The same with the television shows he'd end up watching. He wasn't disgusted by the idea of any other man being with another man except for Richie.
He needed to talk about this. To get his thoughts out and onto some place where he can get advice as to what's happening to him.
But not to anyone he knows.
---
Me [22M] with my roommate of 1 year [22M], I'm worried I might be homophobic towards him?
---
"The internet fucking sucks!" Max complains, lying on Stephanie's bed, head across her lap. She laughs, slightly, flicking his forehead. He rubs it, frowning at her, but continues. "I mean. I'm like. One-hundred percent certain that if I was into him I would have had at least one gay thought before now."
"Dude. You are such a walnut. Like, seriously. You're so oblivious it's actually funny." Steph laughs. "You one hundred percent like him."
Max frowns deeper, but any fight has been lost inside of his chest.
Oh.
"Oh."
"Yeah. Big time." Steph smiles and runs a hand through Max's hair. He covers his face and groans.
"God, I fucked it up so bad." His hands drag down his cheeks. "He's never gonna wanna talk to me again. Much less feel the same." It was still a big shock to be openly admitting this to Steph. To be admitting it to himself at the same time was a weird feeling.
"Now, now. Not so fast. Have you considered that maybe Richie wanted you to be jealous?" She smiles sweetly, but there's a familiar mischievousness in the corner of her lips.
"What?" He frowns. He's not enthusiastic about the false hope he's being given here. He screwed up their friendship and he honestly wouldn't be surprised if Richie wanted to move out because he thinks Max is a homophobic piece of shit.
"Think about it. Why else would he get more upset the more you assured him you didn't care who he was sleeping with? And why else would he bring up your old hookup?" She hums, almost knowingly. Max shakes his head and tilts into her torso, hiding his face in the hoodie she's wearing.
"Just… Think about it, okay?" Steph says, hugging him as best she can from how they're sitting. Max hums unenthusiastically.
---
The next few days pass in a blur of conflicting emotions and potential next routes to take.
Max realizes that he needs to tell Richie what happened. Because if he doesn’t, then there's a high chance that Richie will either leave because he's a dick to his hookups, or Max will have to take the initiative and leave because he can't stand the thought of Richie being with anyone else.
And so he impulsively asks Richie to chill and watch some old reruns of a show they both like. The entire time, he's stressing about what he's going to do and the distance between them on the lone couch feels too close but like miles away simultaneously. When the reruns finish, he gathers himself together and takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry." It's the best place to start, Max figures. And he's proven right because Richie turns to face him with only a furrow in his brow. Max looks down. "I was being a dick because. Well. I was jealous."
Richie laughs nervously and shakes his head slightly. "I don't think you've got anything to be jealous of. There's plenty of people who'll sleep with you, man."
Max shakes his head, too fast. He's becoming scatterbrained. He needs to tell Richie. This can't go on any longer. "No. You don't understand. I'm not jealous that you were sleeping with people. I was jealous that it wasn't me you were sleeping with." His hand is shaking when he presses it to his chest. He hopes Richie understands what he's saying. That there's no way this can be turned around and twisted. "I. I didn't know what was happening. All I knew was that every time you were with a guy I felt this… festering disgust.
"And it only got worse when I realised it was growing. But it was never for any other gay guys. It was only when it came to you." Max is aware that he's shaking. Some odd mixture of nerves and fear running through him.
Richie's frowning in confusion when Max looks back at his face. But something must click because it soon smooths out and he exhales. "Well, then." He looks at Max and lets out a half laugh. "I've uh. Actually been trying to get over you?" Richie's smiling nervously now and Max takes a second to process it.
"So…"
"Yeah…"
Max leans back in his seat, head coming to lean over the back of the couch. "So. We're both idiots?"
Richie snorts but nods. "Yeah, I think so." Max laughs slightly as well.
"Fucking hell…" He shakes his head and looks at Richie. "For the longest time, I thought I was just homophobic, not jealous. But then Steph called me an oblivious walnut." Richie breaks into peals of laughter, covering his mouth.
"You're an idiot, Max." He shakes his head fondly. Max nods in fake solemnity.
"It's a big problem."
Richie hums and shifts so they're sat closer together. The tone shifts with the pitch of Richie's hum and Max's chest feels tight with building anticipation.
"I'm sure we can fix that." Richie mutters, like it's a promise between the two of them that not even the walls can hear. His face gets closer and closer and the pressure in Max's chest grows stronger and stronger. Richie's hand had, at some point, found its way to holding Max's and he briefly worries that Richie can feel the racing pulse in the vein stretching from his wrist to finger.
The smallest smirk on Richie's face proved he could.
"How about we try something?" If Richie hadn't been so close, Max wouldn't have heard him. He could feel the words escaping Richie's lips in shallow puffs of air. His own had been stolen from him, only able to manage the smallest of nods.
Richie closed the distance.
Max felt the grip on his hand tighten as he returned it, fingers intertwining in rhythm with the slow ebbing and flowing of their kiss.
Time seemed to almost slow to a standstill. It was like it was letting them have their moment for all of infinity, held within a single second.
Eventually, Richie pulled away. There was a hesitation in his eye, like he was worried that Max would suddenly decide it was wrong, that he was wrong, and go back to being a dick. It was like he didn't realize that that kiss had been the confirmation seal on Max accepting that this was what he wanted his life to be.
"I think… I don’t have a problem kissing guys if it's me you're kissing." Max smiles. Richie snorts into laughter, forehead resting on Max's shoulder as he relaxes fully.