Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Before anyone starts asking me about Celia x Hazel, I know it’s a crack ship, but I really like the idea of Chloe and Hazel being exes, and I didn’t want to leave Hazel all alone.

I know there’s Pink... but let’s be real: Hazel is 18 (and I think her actress, Kiara, is 20), while Pink is 15 (and her actress, Liamani, is 16). That age gap is huge, and honestly, imo shipping them is kinda weird.

Sooo I thought pairing Hazel with Celia would be a fun idea! Their actresses are around the same age, and the character age gap would be, like, two years max. Plus, I think it’d be really fun to explore the dynamic between Celia, Felix, and Hazel (someone dating their best friend’s older sister 👀).

I’ve got some ideas already, but I’d love to hear yours too, so feel free to comment! It doesn’t have to be romantic, it can be anything! Even just a chapter with all of them hanging out and being chaotic besties.

Also, just so everyone’s clear, here are some things I won’t write:

• Smut (I can try soft smut, but I’m not comfortable with anything hardcore or kink-related)
• Rape
• Creepy topics
• Weird kinks

Thank you all so much! I’m super excited to see what ideas you come up with! :D

Chapter Text

Max Hatter and Robbie Hood became friends the way a lot of roommate friendships start — by accident. They got assigned to the same dorm at Auradon Prep, didn’t know each other, and didn’t expect much beyond sharing space and avoiding conflict.

At first, they mostly ignored each other. Max was loud, talkative, and always had some dramatic project going on. Robbie was more low-key, but his messiness annoyed the Wonderlandian just as much as his roommate noise annoyed Robbie. They clashed. They avoided each other. It was awkward.

Then things started shifting.

They started talking more — sarcastic remarks at first, then real conversations. Robbie had a dry sense of humor that the purple-haired boy actually appreciated, and Max’s ridiculous charm somehow managed to get under the archer’s skin in a way that felt... nice. Annoying, but nice.

Eventually, the tension faded, and they started getting along.

From there, things got easier. They hung out. Did homework near each other. Started talking more. Joked around. Got comfortable.

It didn’t take long before people at Auradon started assuming they were inseparable — some even thought they were dating. Max laughed it off. Robbie rolled his eyes. 

They weren’t best friends. And they definitely weren’t a couple

Robbie’s best friend had always been Chloe Charming — his ride-or-die since the first time she punched a royal brat in the face and he covered for her with a smile and a forged hall pass. The princess was his anchor and his adrenaline rushed all at once. She was the reason he got up early and she knew every version of him, and didn’t flinch at any.

While Max was chaos in a purple suitt, a walking contradiction who wore eyeliner better than half the school’s drama department and quoted Wonderland philosophy like it was gospel. He was too smart for his own good and too charming for anyone else's safety. 

His loyalty lived and breathed for two people: Red of Hearts and Hazel Hook, the other corners of the infamous chaos trio. Between the three of them, they could start a riot, stop a war, or throw a tea party that ended in fireworks and three broken curfews.

Still, he and Robbie found a rhythm. A strange, effortless kind of chemistry.

Max brought energy into the room — music, chatter, questionable fashion choices — and Robbie brought balance. He always had a plan, a backup plan, and snacks hidden in at least four different places. Max could get them out of trouble almost as fast as his roommate could get them into it.

They bickered constantly — about laundry, about lights being left on, about the mess. But they also fell into an easy rhythm. Max left sticky notes with doodles and affirmations on his roommate’s notebooks. Robbie dragged the purple-haired into spontaneous rooftop stargazing sessions.

And somewhere in that strange little routine... the lines started to blur.

Max started noticing things. Like how Robbie tied his hair back when he was thinking hard. Or how his eyes lit up when someone asked him about archery. How his voice softened whenever the Wonderlandian talked about the Isle like it still stung.

Robbie noticed things too. Like how Max always made the tea just right or how the butterflies in his stomach weren’t just from the espresso the boy brewed for him every morning — the one with a little heart in cinnamon on top.

They didn’t say anything about any of it. Not directly. They joked around it. They pretended it wasn’t there.

But the people around them? They noticed.

At first it was just funny. Then it became painful to watch.

Watching Max and Robbie tiptoe around their feelings had gone from cute to agonizing somewhere around month two. What once seemed like a slow-burn romance was now just a never-ending rom-com loop — one where no one kissed and everyone suffered.

Chloe had known Robbie long enough to see the signs. He had this look—this wide-eyed, kind of stunned expression he only got when he didn’t know how to process something, usually reserved for sad movies and unexpected compliments. Lately, Max seemed to be triggering it on a daily basis.

Red caught on next. She’d been the unlucky witness to a half-hour-long tea rant after Max saw him in a sleeveless shirt. He had gone into absurd detail about Robbie’s arms — specifically, how “surprisingly strong” they looked when he was pulling his hair up. 

Red had nodded politely, but the hand gestures still haunted her.

Hazel, just like Red, had no patience for the slow burn. She had been practically vibrating with the need to interfere since the first week. The only reason the girls hadn’t was because Chloe had talked them down. Several times. 

But even Chloe was running out of patience.

Especially when the trio spotted Max and Robbie in the middle of what had to be the most unnecessarily dramatic handshake of all time — extra spins, fake-outs, finger guns, and what looked suspiciously like jazz hands.

Max was practically doubled over laughing, his voice echoing down the hallway. Robbie, on the other hand, stood there frozen, red-faced, mortified, and visibly questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

They’d officially had it. That was the last straw.

Chloe let out a long, suffering sigh as she sat on a bench just outside the gym building. She was already next to Red, legs crossed, lacing up her gloves, while the red-haired rested her head against her shoulder and looped an arm lazily around her waist. 

They weren’t talking much, but the kind of quiet they shared was comfortable. The bluenette glanced down at the mop of red hair tucked beneath her chin, smiled softly, and pressed a kiss to the crown of Red’s head before going back to the last strap.

Hazel was leaning against the nearby wall, arms crossed, looking equally annoyed. She blew on a bubble of gum and let it pop too loudly for the silence of the moment.

“I’m gonna scream,” Chloe muttered, rubbing a hand down her face.

“Now you’re at your limit? Seriously?” the VK scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Please, I’ve been screaming internally since like... week three. Robbie made Max soup when he was sick, and that dude cried . Full-on ugly cried. Over soup.”

“They’re so freaking hopeless,” Red mumbled, voice muffled against Chloe’s shoulder. She burrowed in closer like she was trying to disappear into the hoodie. “Max reorganized his whole tea set after that boy complimented his eyeliner.”

The pirate straightened, popping her neck with a casual roll of her shoulders. She looked like a boxer about to enter the ring. “Okay. Enough is enough. We fix this.”

Red lifted her head slightly, interested now. “You have a plan?”

Hazel’s smirk was all the answer she needed. “We force a confession.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Force?”

“Okay, not like, force -force.” the VK continued, clearly pleased with herself. “More like... strongly encourage. Strategically. With pressure. And maybe a little emotional blackmail.”

“Cool. I’m in. Me and Haz’ll deal with Max.” 

The red-haired stood, stretching her arms over her head with a satisfying crack, then brushed grass off her sweatpants. She looked way too pleased about the idea of emotionally ambushing her best friend, like this was just another workout she’d been waiting to crush. Hazel bumped her fist lightly against Red’s, grinning like she was already scheming five steps ahead.

She turned to the bluenette with a grin that spelled trouble.

“Chlo, you good to talk to Robbie?”

Chloe hesitated, her fingers still curled around the edge of her glove. Robbie wasn’t hard to talk to, not exactly. But getting him to open up without melting into a puddle of feelings and nerves was a different story. 

Still, someone had to do it. And between the three of them, Chloe was the only one who could do it without triggering a meltdown.

She exhaled through her nose, brushing a stray curl behind her ear as she met Red’s gaze.

“Yeah,” she said finally. “I’ve got Robbie.”

Max didn’t even see it coming.

He was just walking down the hallway with his sketchbook in one hand and the other awkwardly trying to keep his coat sleeve from dragging on the floor. It was already one of those days where everything felt a bit off — his tie was crooked, he’d almost tripped over a stray broom in the hallway, and someone had stolen the last blueberry muffin from the cafeteria that morning. 

So, naturally, he didn’t think to be on alert when two of his friends rounded the corner with suspiciously focused looks.

Hazel hooked her arm through his with practiced ease, steering him like a ship she’d just decided to captain. Red claimed the other arm a second later, and before he could blink, they were dragging him down the hallway.

“Uh—what?” Max managed, stumbling a little as they maneuvered him down a quieter hallway, the crowd thinning out behind them. “Hey, where are we going? I’ve got—wait—what is—”

Neither of them answered. The pirate kicked the door shut behind them and planted herself in front of it like she was keeping him from escaping. Red had already claimed the teacher’s desk like she’d been planning this all week, sitting casually on top of it with her legs swinging and that unreadable expression on her face — the one Max hated, because it meant she knew something and was about to make it his problem.

The boy blinked at both of them, completely thrown off. His sketchbook was still clutched to his chest like a shield. 

“Okay,” he said slowly, “if this is about the cocoa hat again, I’m telling you right now, I’m not taking it off. I don’t care how many people voted against and—”

“It’s not about the hat,” Hazel cut in before he could spiral, voice sharp and steady, the kind of tone she used when she was officially done with nonsense. Which was alarming, because she usually thrived on nonsense. “Believe it or not, we have bigger problems.”

Red raised her hand like she was waiting for her cue in a play. “Yeah. You, specifically. And the human disaster zone you call a crush.”

Max blinked. “What are you—”

“Robbie,” Red said flatly, hopping down from the desk with a practiced kind of chaos, like she might kick something over just for effect. “We’re talking about Robbie.”

That shut him up fast.

The shift in Max was immediate and impossible to hide. His mouth opened like he was about to make a joke, but nothing came out. His hands tensed up around the edge of his sketchbook, knuckles whitening just slightly. His shoulders pulled up the way they always did when he was trying to look casual and totally failing at it. He blinked, once, then again, and it was like his brain was desperately scanning the last thirty seconds for an escape route.

“…What about Robbie?” he asked, trying to act casual and failing spectacularly.

Hazel, still standing with her arms crossed like a bouncer at a club, answered without hesitation. “You like him.”

Max let out a weird noise — part scoff, part cough, part dying animal — and immediately went red in the ears. He looked from Hazel to Red like this was some kind of weird prank. 

Unfortunately for him, his friends looked entirely too serious.

“Excuse me?”

Red hopped off the desk with that casual grace she always had, hands in the pockets of her jacket, and started walking toward him like she had all the time in the world. 

“He likes you too,” she said, flicking an imaginary lint off her sleeve like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “And we are all exhausted listening to the two of you sigh like Victorian poets with consumption.”

Max’s mouth dropped open. “That is… weirdly specific.”

“You spilled an entire pot of tea when he called you handsome,” Hazel added, like she was reading off a list of evidence. “That wasn’t even subtle. You turned red instantly .”

“That was—look, that was an accident,” Max spluttered. “I—I knocked it over because he surprised me!”

“Exactly,” Red said, stopping in front of him now. “Because he surprised you by flirting with you and you didn’t know how to deal with it.”

The purple-haired felt like he was melting from the inside out. He could feel his face getting hotter and hotter by the second, and his blazer suddenly felt five degrees too warm. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, sketchbook still clutched in front of him like it was gonna protect him from reality.

“He really likes me?”

“M,” Red softened her tone a bit — not a lot, but just enough that it didn’t sound like she was going to slap sense into him anymore. “He packed you extra gloves this morning. Because your fingers get cold.”

That made him stop.

His eyes dropped to his hands. He remembered finding the gloves tucked in his bag that morning — black and purple, his favorite. Max always forgot gloves. Robbie hadn’t.

“…They do get cold,” he said softly, like he was just realizing it for himself. His voice was small and weirdly serious.

Hazel pushed off the door and crossed the room, her tone softer now. “He notices stuff. Because he pays attention. Because he likes you. It’s so obvious. So either you tell him, or keep sighing dramatically into your teacups and risk losing him to someone less clueless.”

“I’m not—” Max tried, but the words didn’t come out. He opened his mouth again. Closed it. He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t have anything clever or theatrical to say. No quip, no dramatic gasp, no deflection. Just this stunned, overwhelmed kind of silence like someone had taken the thoughts he kept locked up in his head and said them out loud before he was ready to deal with them.

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Hazel said, gentler. “But don’t keep pretending it’s not real. Because it is. And he’s not going to wait around forever while you overthink it into oblivion.”

Max blinked hard and nodded once, still looking shell-shocked.

Red gave his arm a little nudge with her elbow, teasing just enough to break the tension. “Also, if you don’t tell him soon, you’re gonna owe me five bucks. Hazel bet you’d figure it out first, but I had more faith in Robbie.”

Hazel smirked. “Should’ve bet higher.”

Max groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You’re both horrible. ”

Red gave a mock bow. “You’re welcome.”

Meanwhile, Robbie didn’t even see it coming.

He was tucked away in the back of the library, not because he was stressed about exams or putting together a serious group project. Honestly, it was just quiet there, and he liked the peace. Most people skipped that corner because the chairs creaked and the window leaked a cold draft if you sat too close. Robbie didn’t mind. It meant fewer people bugging him.

His table was a complete mess. A beat-up folder full of flyers, half-finished scavenger hunt clues, and three different colored markers were spread out across the surface. A notebook was open to a page where he’d half-doodled a cartoon dragon riding a skateboard, and his handwriting looped all over the place, trailing into random arrows and side notes. There was a granola bar squished between the pages of a textbook he wasn’t actually using, and a pencil tucked behind one ear like he’d forgotten it was even there.

His boots were kicked up on the opposite chair, which was fine until it very suddenly wasn’t.

Because that chair was now occupied by his best friend, who dropped a lopsided stack of random books onto the table with a heavy thud that made Robbie jolt like he’d just been caught doing something illegal. Again. Which wasn’t that much of a stretch, he had technically stolen cookies from the dining hall twice this semester. 

But this time, he was innocent.

“Holy—” He grabbed the edge of the table like it would keep him grounded. “Give a guy a heart attack, why don’t you?”

Chloe didn’t answer right away. She just sat down slowly, leveled a look at him, and said, totally deadpan, “You either confess, or I swear I’ll do it for you.”

Robbie blinked, completely thrown. “I… what?”

She leaned back in the chair, one of those wobbly ones that made a weird noise if you shifted too much, and crossed her arms. “Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not playing. I genuinely don’t know what this is about,” he said, holding up both hands like a surrender. “I’ve done a lot of things worth confessing, so you’re gonna have to narrow it down.”

“Max,” she said, very clearly, like she was spelling it out for a small child. “I’m talking about Max.”

Robbie froze, mid-hand gesture. His mouth opened a little like he was gonna argue, but nothing came out. He sank an inch lower in his chair, arms dropping back onto the table like he’d just given up on pretending. His stomach did that weird flip it always did when the purple-haired boy name came up. 

“Oh. That.”

Chloe gave him a long-suffering look, like finally . “Yes. That . You’re into him. Everyone knows. And honestly? I’m tired.”

He raised his eyebrows, confused. “You’re tired?”

She leaned forward now, elbows on the table. “Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually. I’m tired of watching you go full statue every time he looks at you for more than three seconds. I’m tired of you getting all flustered when he calls you ‘darling’. Which, by the way, he only calls you. ”

Right on cue, Robbie felt his face betray him. His ears went warm first, then his neck, and finally his cheeks lit up like a cursed fireplace. The bluenette gave a knowing sigh, like she’d predicted it down to the second.

“It’s a weird nickname!” he said, trying to play it cool but immediately pulling his hoodie tighter around himself like a turtle retreating into its shell.

Chloe didn’t even blink. “And he turns pink every time you say something nice about that hideous hat.”

Robbie frowned. “It’s not hideous,” he muttered, barely glancing up. “It’s… charmingly weird.”

The princess leaned forward, propped her elbows on the table, and gave him the kind of slow, satisfied smirk that only best friends can pull off. “So you do like it. Which means you do like him . Thank you for finally saying out loud.”

He let out a dramatic groan and buried his face in his arms. “Can we not do this here?”

“You’ve been doing it literally everywhere else ,” she shot back. “You sat through, what, twelve of his tea parties? And you don’t even like tea.”

Robbie mumbled something into the crook of his elbow.

“What was that?” Chloe asked, leaning closer.

He lifted his head just enough to grumble, “I said… some of them were actually kinda good.”

“Oh my Merlin ,” she muttered. “Which one?”

He paused, then admitted quietly, “…the peach and vanilla one.”

“The one he brought special because you said fruit teas tasted like nothing?”

Robbie dragged his hands down his face, defeated. “Okay. Fine. Maybe I like him a little.”

Chloe raised both eyebrows. “Try ‘a lot.’ You like him a lot. And he likes you back, idiot.”

The archer didn’t argue. He just sort of… slumped back in his chair and messed with the hem of his hoodie. His fingers kept picking at the loose thread near the pocket, like focusing on something tiny would keep him from fully panicking.

“I’ve just… never really said it out loud before,” he admitted. “It’s easier to, like… flirt a little and pretend it’s a joke.”

Chloe’s face softened. Her voice too. “Yeah. I get that.”

She sat back in the chair, arms dropping to her lap. For a second, she didn’t say anything. Then she added, a little quieter, “And hey. You remember how long it took me and Red.”

Robbie snorted. “You mean when I had to tell you she kept staring at your lips and Hazel literally shoved you toward her because she couldn’t take it anymore?”

“Exactly,” Chloe said, like that proved her point. “I was so in denial, it was painful. And I still didn’t do anything until I finally confessed and thought I was going to throw up. But guess what? Worth it.”

Robbie looked at her, a little squint-eyed. “You cried afterward.”

“Shut up,” she said, but she was smiling. “Happy tears. The point is, we wasted so much time being scared. Don’t do that, Rob. Don’t waste it.”

Robbie didn’t answer immediately. He grabbed his pen again, started to spin it between his fingers, then he looked at her, still chewing on the inside of his cheek like he didn’t know how to say what he was thinking.

Finally, he muttered, “I was kinda thinking of asking him to go on a hike.”

Chloe blinked, a little surprised. “A hike?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s never done one. Not really. But he said he likes forests, so I figured… I dunno. Maybe he’d be into it.”

Chloe sat back and nodded slowly, like she was actually impressed. “Okay. Honestly? That’s… kinda great. It’s really you . It’s not some big cheesy thing, just something nice you wanna share with him.”

Robbie gave her a cautious look. “It’s not dumb?”

“Not even a little.” She smiled. “I think it’s thoughtful. And he’ll love it.”

He nodded slowly. “You think he’d actually want to?”

She stood up and grabbed one of the random books she’d used as an excuse to sit down. “Robbie. He cried over the soup you made.”

“He was sick !” Robbie groaned.

Chloe just laughed and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Anyway. Point is: he’s into you. Like, a lot. So just ask. Worst thing that happens is you spend a day in the woods with the guy you like. Best case? You finally stop being annoying and make a move.”

Robbie raised his eyebrows. “Wow. So much support.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know I support you. But someone’s gotta say it plain. You’ve been pining for months and it’s exhausting. You deserve a good thing. And so does he.”

He smiled, small but real. “Thanks.”

Chloe turned to go, but paused at the edge of the table. “And Rob?”

He looked up.

“You’ve got this.”

Max wasn’t totally sure how he’d ended up here.

Well, technically, he remembered. Robbie had shown up at their shared dorm with that half-grin he always used when he wanted something, the one that was just a little crooked and made it impossible to tell if he was being sincere or just messing around. 

“Wanna come with me tomorrow? It’s just a hike, nothing fancy.”  

And Max, against every sensible instinct in his body, had said yes before even asking where they were going. 

So now here he was: somewhere in the forest behind Auradon Prep, wearing boots that were technically functional but still more fashion than practicality, and carrying a ridiculously heavy satchel full of snacks and a thermos of tea. He’d packed it last night and triple-checked everything: water, snacks, a soft blanket and a small thermos of sweet tea. 

Ahead of him, Robbie walked like he belonged out here, stepping over roots and ducking under branches like he did this every weekend. He wasn’t even winded. Just strolling along in his slightly-too-large green jacket and fraying backpack, casually pointing out trees like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, even though Max was ninety percent sure he was.

Max cleared his throat, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. “Alright, confession time — I didn’t actually think I’d enjoy this. But I’m having a surprisingly decent time.”

Robbie laughed, easy and unbothered, and offered a hand as they approached a fallen log. Max took it without hesitation, only realizing the mistake when their fingers fit too well and the archer’s eyes flicked down at the contact like it surprised him.

“Yeah?” Robbie asked, a little breathless, not from the walk.

“Yeah,” Max said, voice smooth as ever, even if his heart was kind of having a meltdown. “Turns out forests are a lot less terrible when you’re not, y’know, stuck on an island.”

Robbie snorted, still holding his hand a second longer than he probably needed to. “Yeah, guess fresh air kinda beats whatever the Isle had going on.”

They kept walking, side by side now, their pace more relaxed. Robbie pointed out different trees and plants, occasionally dropping some nature fact like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and Max listened with real interest. He might’ve preferred teacups and card games, but this—being out here, with Robbie, in the quiet, was kind of… nice.

Eventually they reached a clearing Robbie had mentioned earlier. It wasn’t much, just a patch of tall grass and a few big flat rocks under a shady tree, but it had a view of the lake in the distance and enough space to set up. 

Max sat down slowly, brushing leaves away first like he was afraid they’d stain his clothes permanently. He laid out the checkered picnic blanket he’d brought — white and lavender with tiny embroidered teacups in the corners — and began unpacking.

Out came crackers, fruit, a container of pasta salad he’d randomly made at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep, and a stack of tiny, neatly cut triangle sandwiches that literally no one had requested but he made anyway.

And of course, the thermos of tea.

Robbie, on the other hand, dug through his backpack and pulled out… granola bars. Chips, a trail mix with a suspicious amount of gummy bears, and a bag of cut-up watermelon that was already leaking juice into the napkin it was wrapped in.

The Wonderlandian stared at it, horrified. “Okay, why is that not in a container?”

Robbie just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Couldn’t find one. Still tastes good though.” He popped a dripping piece in his mouth and grinned like that proved his point.

Max sighed with mock exasperation. “You’re a mess.”

The brunette just grinned, unfazed. “You knew that when you said yes.”

He wasn’t wrong. Max poured them each a cup of tea and handed one to Robbie, who accepted it with a quiet, genuine  “Thanks,” his tone softer than usual, and for a few minutes they just sat there on the blanket, eating and sipping tea in a silence that felt surprisingly nice.

Max would occasionally hand over a sandwich, and Robbie kept trying to get his friend to try the trail mix, holding it out with exaggerated enthusiasm. He refused every time, making the same dramatic disgusted face that only made Robbie laugh harder.

At some point, the brunette stretched out on the blanket, hands behind his head, staring up at the trees. Max stayed sitting, cross-legged, sipping tea like a little old man, but he was very aware that Robbie’s arm was now close enough to bump into his leg if either of them moved even a little.

“So,” Robbie said after a while, still staring up at the canopy of leaves above them, “you ever done anything like this before?”

Max raised an eyebrow, even though the boy couldn’t see him. “You mean hiking?”

“Yeah.”

The purple-haired shook his head. “Not really. Closest I ever got was a tea party under a plastic fern back on the Isle.”

Robbie turned his head, snorting so hard he had to cover his mouth with his hand. “Of course you did.”

“Please.” Max flicked a crumb off his pants with a flourish. “At least I didn’t bring a cursed gummy bear trail mix abomination.”

“You love it.”

Max gave him a sharp look, leaning in like he was about to deliver a scandalous secret. “Darling. I barely tolerate it.”

That one got Robbie. He choked on a laugh and had to roll onto his side, coughing once into his fist. His ears flushed a little, and even though he tried to play it cool, his friend caught the moment.

“You okay?” Max asked, all innocent concern, but the smirk curling at the edges of his mouth said otherwise.

“I’m fine,” Robbie said, voice higher than usual, not looking at him. “Totally fine.”

The purple-haired took another slow sip of tea, watching him over the rim. “You sure? You look a little… flushed.”

“I’m gonna blame the sun.”

“Of course.”

And then… it got quiet again. But not in a weird way. Max sat there, picking at the edge of the wax paper his pastry had come in, and suddenly he was hyper-aware of how fast his heart was going.

He wasn’t sure why it felt like such a big deal. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hung out alone before. They had. Plenty of times. But this was different somehow, and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin it by making a joke when something real might actually be happening.

“I know,” he said eventually, quieter than before, “that I’m kind of a disaster sometimes. I joke around a lot. But I do mean it. I really like this. Being here. With you.”

Robbie pushed himself up onto one elbow so he could see Max better. He didn’t smile right away, didn’t deflect or throw out a joke. He just nodded, like he’d been hoping Max would say something like that. 

“I really like it too.” He paused, clearly thinking, then added, slower and more deliberate, “And I really like you.”

Max blinked. The words hit like a slow wave — expected and still somehow overwhelming. Hazel and Red had dropped enough hints lately that he’d known, in theory, where this was heading. 

But hearing it? 

Hearing it from Robin Hood Jr. himself, without the cover of sarcasm or mischief?

That was something else.

“Well,” Max said, a smile tugging at his lips, “that’s good. Because I like you too.”

Robbie’s smile, when it came, was soft and a little shy. “Cool.”

Max’s grin widened. “Cool.”

Another second passed. The brunette sat up all the way, turning so he was fully facing Max now. They were sitting close — closer than either of them probably realized until just then. The Wonderlandian could feel the warmth coming off Robbie’s shoulder, and they were near enough that if one of them leaned forward even slightly, they’d probably bump noses.

“So, uh.” Robbie reached up and scratched the back of his neck. His voice sounded lighter than before, but there was still an edge of hesitation underneath.

Max raised an eyebrow, already suspicious but also amused. “Oh, goody.”

“Was this, like… a date?” Robbie asked, glancing over at him. His eyes flicked up briefly before dropping again, hopeful but clearly unsure. “I mean—do you want it to be?”

The purple-haired didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the teacup in his hands, which had suddenly become a little harder to hold still. He set it down carefully beside him, mostly to keep from fumbling it. Then he turned his head and looked at Robbie, really took him in. 

There was something honest and vulnerable in his expression, like this question had been sitting in his chest the entire afternoon and he’d finally worked up the courage to say it out loud.

“I do,” Max said. “If you do.”

Robbie let out a sharp exhale, like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it. His shoulders dropped a little, tension bleeding out of him all at once. “Cool. Good. Yeah. I do.”

Max smiled — this one wasn’t for show. It wasn’t practiced or exaggerated. It just showed up, warm and easy. He leaned forward a bit, and Robbie mirrored the movement almost automatically. When their lips met, it was a little awkward. 

The Wonderlandian’s coat sleeve caught on something and tugged, and Robbie sort of laughed into the kiss — but then they found a rhythm. It turned softer, slower, something a little more sure of itself, even if neither of them really were.

When they pulled back, Max blinked, trying to gather his thoughts. His brain felt slightly scrambled in the best way. “So that… wasn’t a disaster.”

“Agreed,” Robbie said, grinning. “Wanna test the theory again?”

Max didn’t bother answering. He just leaned in, the purple highlights in his hair caught the sun for a second, and kissed him again.

After that, the rest of the afternoon took on a different kind of pace. 

There wasn’t any big shift or dramatic change — it was just... better. Easier. Now that the air was clear between them, everything else seemed to fall into place without effort. They stayed on the blanket for a while, sitting shoulder to shoulder, passing the last of the snacks back and forth. Robbie kept poking fun at Max for bringing way too much tea for two people, and the boy insisted he’d done it “in case of an emergency.”

Eventually, Robbie lay down and rested his head in the boy’s lap, and Max absentmindedly ran his fingers through his brown hair while they talked. The conversation wandered all over the place — classes, ridiculous Auradon rumors, what kind of animal they each thought the other would be. Max declared that Robbie was definitely a fox. The archer disagreed and said he’d probably be more like a raccoon who steals wallets and looks smug about it.

After a while, they got up and walked around a bit. Robbie led the way down a narrow trail that opened up to a shallow stream. They took off their shoes and stood ankle-deep in the cold water, laughing at how slippery the rocks were. The brunette tried to skip a stone and missed completely. Max gave it a try too, only to have his stone fly backward somehow. He gave an exaggerated bow, and Robbie clapped like it was a performance worthy of applause.

They found a patch of flowers and sat down again, Max pulling a couple and trying to stick one behind Robbie’s ear. He responded by making a completely lopsided flower crown out of weeds and dandelions and placing it proudly on Max’s head. 

Time passed without either of them really noticing. The sun dipped lower, and the shadows started to stretch across the grass. It was the kind of warm, late-afternoon light that made everything feel calm and a little hazy, like the world had finally slowed down.

Eventually, they started packing up. Max folded the blanket with a level of precision that was clearly unnecessary, but he seemed to enjoy the order of it. The archer gathered up the cups and dumped out the leftover tea.

But instead of coming back right away, Robbie wandered over to one of the trees nearby. Max glanced over and saw him digging through his bag. He didn’t think anything of it until he saw the familiar glint of the brunette’s pocket knife.

“What are you doing?” Max called out, still crouched beside the blanket.

“Hold on,” Robbie replied, not turning around. He crouched slightly, focusing on the tree trunk.

Max tilted his head and squinted in his direction. “You’re not seriously carving our initials into a tree like a straight couple in a coming-of-age movie, are you?”

Robbie didn’t respond — he just smirked, still working.

When he finally stepped back, Max stood and walked over, not sure whether to be exasperated or amused. Probably both.

There, carved into the bark in slightly messy but clearly readable letters, was a heart. Inside it: R + M.

Max stared at it, arms folded, expression unreadable for a moment. Then he let out a long, exaggerated sigh and bumped his head lightly against Robbie’s shoulder.

“You’re such a dork,” he said.

“But I’m your dork,” Robbie said, smugly.

Max gave him a look, but he was already smiling. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Robbie tilted his head, pretending to think about it. “Am I?”

Max didn’t answer. He stepped forward instead and kissed him — slow and steady this time. Not dramatic, not perfect, just honest. The kind that felt comfortable and a little silly but still made Max’s chest feel weird and warm and full.

And this time, he didn’t even care that his stupid hat fell off.