Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
-
Tags
Summary
Charles opens the door in his work out shorts and giant hoodie, half of his hair smooshed to the side of his head while the other sticks straight up. He's frantically trying to smooth it with one hand as he swings the door wide with the other, but gets distracted by Max standing there, red-cheeked and trying to pretend he isn’t panting.
The cloud of rainpancakesearthsyrup floods into his apartment, making Charles blink dazedly. It’s so fucking good. He can’t help but gasp a bit, surprised.
Max takes a final deep, almost heaving breath and shoots his arm out straight in front of him, a dark blue hoodie clenched in his fist. “Here.”
Charles doesn’t reach for it. He eyes Max, the sheen of sweat along his hairline, the fit of his relatively but not egregiously skinny jeans.
“Did you—did you run here?”
Max grimaces a little, then shrugs. “Brought this for you.”
*
Charles has spent the last 28 years highly sensitive to smell, usually to the detriment of his own well-being. So what if Max’s presence—and scent—have always helped with that?
So what if this is the year Max finally notices?