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There’s something really nice about just laying on the floor sometimes Max has found. The floor is consistent, the floor is always the same. Well, that’s not strictly true: tile is colder than wood, and carpet can be rougher or softer depending on its age and how long it’s been since it was last cleaned, but at the end of the day the floor will always be the floor.
The floor is hard. The floor is solid. The floor is ever present, and will always be there for you.
That’s Max’s favourite thing about the floor, actually: that it’s always there. It’s very easy to find yourself a good bit of floor. All you have to do is look down. It’s right there.
“Look down and lay down,” is practically Max’s life motto.
There’s just something about it that hits the spot every single time.
“Is there something wrong with my nest?” Charles asks when he comes into the bedroom and finds Max laying down on the floor next to the bed.”
“No.”
“Then why are you on the floor?”
“It’s nice.”
“My nest is nice.”
“Too soft,” Max murmurs.
“Too–? What do you mean ‘too soft?’” Charles asks.
Max’s eyes fly open at the spiking of his scent, and the pure confusion and desperation in his tone.
“I can–”
“No!” Max sits up. “No, don’t. Your nest is perfect.” His heart breaks when he sees the ball Charles is curling himself into. “Charles…”
“But you just said…” Charles’ eyes dart between Max—stil on the floor—and the nest on the bed.
“I know. I didn’t–” Max bites his tongue. “Charles. I just…I’m not used to nests. I grew up with Dad on the road, remember?”
Charles nods.
“Sometimes…sometimes nests are just too soft for me, and I need some floor time.”
Charles purses his lips. “What do you mean ‘too soft?’”
“I mean…This is going to sound so bad. I know that nests are meant to be…a comfort. They’re a place to relax, reset, and recharge.”
“Yeah.”
“And they are! And yours is!”
“But?”
“But sometimes I need the floor.”
“Okay.” Charles’ voice wavers, but he squares his shoulders. “That’s fine.”
“I’ll come to the nest soon.”
“Yeah.” Charles finally closes the door behind him. He takes one step towards the bed before aborting. “Can I join you? Or is floor time also alone time?”
“You can join me.”
“Okay.”
Charles pads over to Max. He sits down carefully, and then they lay down together.
Max helps tuck him into his side, and rumbles when Charles buries his nose into Max’s shirt.
“Hi,” Max whispers.
“Hi,” Charles replies. “What do you like about the floor?”
“It’s hard.”
“I can tell.”
“That’s it.”
Charles huffs, but his scent has sweetened, and Max thinks he’s almost laughing. “So I shouldn’t leave a blanket and a pillow on the ground for you?”
“No thank you.” Max kisses the top of his head. “Just floor time. We’ll be up in the nest soon. I can’t stay here for too long, it messes up my back.”
“Right.” Charles burrows into his chest.
“I love your nests,” Max assures him.
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I believe you.” Charles props his head up on his chin. “Is there anything I can do to the nest to make it better for you? I want it to be our nest.”
“And it is our nest.”
“But…” Charles’ eyes flick up to it. “It’s not doing its job if you need to be on the floor outside of it to decompress.”
“Maybe we could get a harder mattress?”
“Then let’s do that.”
“Okay.”