The Connection

“Why, hello.”

Kat grins widely when she answers Cooper’s front door. Leaning against the frame, her arms crossed loosely over her tank top covered chest as she surveys Avery and Max’s twin looks of embarrassment. Max tries his best to look aggravated and cold over the top of the pizza boxes that he refused to let Avery carry. But the bright pink lining the tips of his ears and the ridges of his cheekbones gives him away as he glares down at a smirking Kat. And, for the first time all week, the stupid, giddy smile that’s been plastered to Avery’s face has fallen slightly, as he stands on Cooper’s front porch.
He hasn’t asked Max yet, so he’s not sure if he’s told Cooper about them. Avery himself is still a little unsure. Are they boyfriends? They’ve actually hung out at Avery’s house, watching movies, holding hands and sitting too close on Avery’s bed or in the living room when Quinn isn’t there to coo at them and be generally obnoxious. Max hasn’t said in explicit terms the nature of their relationship, but then again, its Max, who’s more often than not emotionally constipated.

Avery had little choice other than to tell Kat. When he got home (after Max had walked him to his door and pulled him abruptly into his chest, kissing the top of his head before telling him good night), he popped into the living room and said hello and then good night to his parents. His mother was grinning from ear to ear, and Avery could tell, bursting with questions about his date. His father looked up from his newspaper, gave him a look and told him not to be on the phone all night, because the bill was getting ridiculous. And Avery was going to heed his father’s warning. But as soon as he undressed and crawled into bed, his phone lit up; a picture of Kat in a Steak ‘n Shake hat and eating a mint Oreo milkshake glowing brightly. He answered it, and told Kat everything, in typical best-friend-gushing-stupidly fashion.

“Move it, Kathrine.” Max growls, shifted the pizza boxes slightly. Instead of rising to the bait, Kat laughs loudly, but move to the side anyway. Max brushes past her, grumbling the whole way to the kitchen. Avery glares at Kat, pushing past her as well.

“Must you make this unbearable?” Avery sighs, following Kat into the living room. Avery sits on the loveseat, as Kat fiddles with the Xbox controller.

“Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” She snickers. Avery rolls his eyes, shoving her shoulder with a little more force than needed.

“Well, don’t. I’m not sure if Cooper knows,” He says, giving Kat a very pointed look; Kat only looks innocently in return, “And I don’t want to freak Max out.”

“Well, it’s a little late to be feeling weird.” Kat remarks, “Sport-o’s already kind of sealed the deal.”

“I know,” Avy agrees, “But you know how he is with other people. I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Fine,” Kat snips rolling her eyes, “We’ll treat Sport-o like a kicked dog if you want.”
Avery only has time to cringe slightly at the too-accurate simile, before Cooper and Max come into the living room, both carrying two paper plates each, heaped with food. Max sits next to Avery, and hands him his plate with a small smile. A new kind of smile that’s softer and sweeter than the smiles he’s received from the quarterback before. He returns it, but his insides feel squirmy and not hungry. He scoots a little further away from Max on the tiny loveseat, not sure how to ask Max if the contact is okay. Max gives him a weird look, raising one heavy eyebrow at Avery’s unusual distance (after all, Max has twice pulled Avery’s bony frame to sit in his lap, much to Avery’s embarrassment). Kat stands and takes her plate, as Cooper swipes the Xbox controller out of her grasp.

“I get to pick the movie this time.” Cooper says, flopping into the armchair. Kat snorts, trying to swipe the controller back.

“How do you figure that?” She asks acidly. They continue to argue (it really wouldn’t be movie night if Cooper and Kat didn’t argue) as Avery picks morosely at his crust. Max watches him out of the corner of his eye for a while before it clicks. He then heaves a heavy, annoyed sigh, setting his plate on the coffee table in front of them. Avery turns slightly to ask what’s wrong (what he did.), only to have Max’s thick arm curl around his shoulders, and pull him roughly into the his side. And when Avery remains rigid; Max sighs again, nudging Avery’s mop of unruly hair with his chin until Avery takes the hint, and rests his head against Max’s broad shoulder.

“Just ask next time. Jesus.” Max mumbles in to Avery’s hair, before placing a small, almost unnoticeable peck to the thick, dark brown tresses. Avery feels his heart summersault in his chest, as Max picks up his plate again and resumes eating.

“What the hell?”
Max and Avery look over at Cooper and Kat, who have stopped fighting long enough to stare at the pair. Avery feels Max tense slightly, and Avery begins pulls away slightly. He’s surprised when Max (forcefully) pulls him back down, and the side of Avery’s face connects almost painfully with Max’s shoulder.

“What?” Max says the challenge clear in his icy tone. Cooper scoffs, and turns to Kat, who looks at them smiling softly.

“Really? The poster couple for domestic abuse is official before we are?” He says snottily.

“Hey!” Max objections, as Avery snickers into his shoulder. Kat turns scarlet in the blue glow of the TV and sputters for a minute. The words seemingly lost in her throat, before she finds them

“They went on a date!” She stupidly decides on. Cooper rolls his eyes with a snort, fixing Kat with a glare.

“I’ve asked you on about a million dates!” He cries, “And you’ve always said no!”
Kay swallows, her hands falling from their defensive place of her hips, as she struggles to string an argument together.

“He has. And he’d always be weepy when you’d say no.” Max chimes to Kat, tearing into a breadstick (“Well, I wasn’t exactly happy. But I was never ’weepy’…” Cooper says form the armchair). He nudges Avery slightly, who quickly catches on.

“And you’ve always said no, even though you’ve liked him for like… ever.” Avery quips, studiously avoiding Kat’s ferocious death-glare and dunking a slice of pizza in garlic butter. Kat continues to sputter, her glare flashing to Avery, and then Max, and then Cooper and finally back to Avery. Cooper sighs in annoyance.

“This is stupid.” He growls, and then he roughly yanks Kat down to sit in his lap. Kat struggles in Cooper’s hold, spitting protests and swiping at any part of Cooper she can reach (while Avery and Max nearly cry with laughter). But the tackle is decidedly stronger, and she only manages to kick her flailing legs over the arm of the chair and sink deeper into Cooper’s lap as she wrestles with her Soul Mate. Cooper, with his arms around her waist and having no trouble keeping the livid redhead in place must finally tire of her squirming. He kisses her cheek softly, causing Kat to still immediately and turn into a furiously blushing statue.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Cooper says drily, tightening his arm around Kat’s middle. But he really doesn’t have to; Kat seems to finally give up and lay her frizzy head against Cooper’s own head, pouting slightly.

“Ask next time, you piece of shit.” She mumbles snottily, her face and hair roughly the same purple-y red. Cooper smiles, kisses her forehead.

“Only if you go to breakfast with me tomorrow.”

“I’m not going to negotiate with your terrorist threats, fucker.” Kat gripes, to which Cooper only laughs heartily. Avery feels his heart swell with happiness for Kat. And with gratitude for the shaggy headed blond who grins, knowing he’s won and shoves the controller in Kat’s small, fluttering hands.

“Shut up and pick your movie.”
________

Avery thought this only happened in movies.

Teenage movies and romantic comedies and always chick flicks. Movies that Quinn drags him (more specifically, him and his car) too, and movies that, if his mother catches on television, she’ll watch as his father grumbles in the corner. Movies that Kat swears she hates, but Avery knows she has hidden under all her Tim Burton movies. Movies with a kissing scene in the rain, a gorgeous leading man and a dorky male friend who the heroine probably would have been better off with, anyway.

“Ow.” Avery hisses as the top of his head collides with the roof of Max’s car. Max laughs, that same throaty chuckle made more so by the weight of Avery pressed firmly in his lap. He pulls Avery back down to his smiling mouth.

Making out in a car is uncomfortable; but movies didn’t prepare him for that.

“Don’t break my car.” Max grumbles as he coaxes Avery’s mouth back open with tender open mouthed kisses. Avery willingly opens to Max’s persistent lips and wondering tongue, but bites his bottom lip sharply as a reprimand. But it doesn’t seem to work, because Max’s fingers tighten on Avery’s skinny hips and he hums against Avery’s bright red, swollen lips.

“You’re learnin’ quicker.” Max mumbles happily in between small, short kisses. Avery bristles; ending the almost chaste little pecks and flicking his tongue against Max’s bottom lip and adding a slow roll of his hips. Max lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers digging deeper into the thin flesh that covers Avery’s hipbones.

“Why’re you ruining this?” Avery grumbles licking his way into Max’s smiling mouth. Avery told him once that he was his first kiss and now Max has made it his personal mission to make Avery a ‘kick ass kisser’. Not that Avery’s complaining. Sure, it was a little awkward at first. Max would drive a terrified Avery to his father’s lake, with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand wound loosely with Avery’s. When they reached the lake, Max would coax him (like a scared to death rabbit) into the back seat. In all honesty, he was expecting Max to be rougher, more persistent. After all, the quarterback has had a shameful amount of girlfriends and just friends, if the rumors are true. Surely, some of them have seen the backseat of the Chevelle and definitely they’ve had more experience than Avery.

“”Cause you’re fuckin’ adorable.” Max breathes, as Avery kisses the corner of his mouth and then the other, and then fully on Max’s kiss swollen lips.

But Max has yet again surprised him. The first time they did this, they sat next to each other, not Avery on top of him; their thighs pressed together and Avery trembling slightly. Max had woven their fingers back together, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Avery’s temple. He quietly reassured Avery that they’d stop as soon as he asked and said even quieter, ‘I’m not gonna hurt you.’ Avery nodded staring at the gray carpeting of the backseat, until Max lifted his chin with a gentle hand and placed a soft kiss on Avery’s fear frozen lips. Avery melted into the tender act, but fear soon overtook him. They stopped soon after, Avery nerves exploding as he apologized over and over. Max shrugged his shoulders, smiling softly, and then warped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders with a gentle ‘shut the fuck up.’ They spent the rest of that disastrous first evening talking and laughing with AC/DC playing in the background.

“I’m not adorable.” Avery’s protest comes out breathy as the quarterback takes control (he’s very willing to let Avery, but sometimes Max just can’t seem to let him be), placing soft, gently sucking kisses on Avery’s jawline. He snorts into Avery jaw, and trails those same sucking kisses (although a little harder) along the side of Avery’s neck. Avery squirms, rocking his hips gently into Max’s and letting his head fall against his own shoulder, baring his neck completely to the taller boy. He feels Max’s lips stretch into a smug grin against the tendons of his neck; his gingery stubble making the most pleasant burn as he nips and sucks at Avery’s pulse point.

Avery whines and grinds his hips down against Max’s. Max thrusts upwards, their clothed erections seeking friction. It’s then when Max pulls away, smiling sadly. He always ends things before they get too heated, not willing to scare Avery off completely. He pecks Avery’s lips once more as an apology.

“We’d better stop.” He says his voice low and husky. Avery throws himself against Max’s freckled neck, groaning his displeasure. Max chuckles, his hands moving away from their hold on Avery’s sharp hipbones. He places one against the small of Avery’s back and the other smoothing through the mess that Avery calls hair; gently swaying them back and forth. He fingers a fast swelling knot on Avery’s crown.

“You’re gonna have a bump.” He remarks casually, still holding Avery tightly in his lap. Avery scoffs, bringing his face out of Max’s neck, to fix him with a snotty glare.

“Your car’s too small.”

“Don’t talk about her likes she’s not here!” And at Avery’s venomous stare, “Well, maybe a little…” Max confirms sadly, his thumb brushing across Avery’s cheekbone. Avery sighs, melting into the soft touch.

“You could always come to my house.” Avery mumbles. Through some sort of unspoken agreement, Max has never offered his house to Avery, and Avery’s never asked. At first, Avery thought it was because of Max’s fear of bringing Avery totally into his life. But once, when they sat in the backseat; lips bruised and hair tousled, Max confessed that Mike was not only a drunk but, “A fuckin’ homophobe. He’s always making fun of me for fixin’ my hair and… other stuff.”

“Then I’d have to meet your parents.” Max says, twisting a thick lock of Avery’s hair absently in his fingers. Avery scoffs, and tries to wiggle out of Max’s lap. But the taller boy huffs, and warps his arms tighter around Avery’s skinny middle, like a toddler hoarding his favorite toy.

“They’re not like Quinn.” Avery lies. His mother is exactly like Quinn, right down to the way they both blow away their bangs when their frustrated and the way that they throw their long hair into a ponytail whenever they concentrate on a difficult task. Max shrugs, not quite meeting Avery’s eyes.

“I like Quinn.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Avery probes. Max looks out the window, bringing his bottom lip in between his teeth. Avery sighs, his thumb moving of its own accord to sweep across the corner of Max’s kiss swollen mouth. The taller boy releases his lip, letting Avery smooth the pad of his thumb over the abused flesh. He closes his eyes, sinking into the attention, just as Avery always does when Max gives him little affectionate touches.

“Stop that.” Avery chides softly, “I get it.” He adds. Max quirks an eyebrow, and Avery sighs.

“I understand. This is scary for you, the whole… relationship. So, it’s okay if you don’t want to meet my parents.” Avery explains, trying valiantly to keep the disappointed edge out of his tone. Max’s eyes soften, and he places a soft kiss to Avery’s still sweeping thumb.

“It’s fuckin’ terrifying. “ Max confirms, and then his eyes met Avery’s.

“But not for the reason you think.” He says. Avery’s thumb moves to smooth across his cheekbones, sweeping across all the gorgeous little flecks that dust over Max’s whole face.

“Then enlighten me.”

“It’s just… me, I guess.” Max says softly, his hand rubbing small circles into Avery’s t-shirt covered back. Avery stays silent, waiting patiently.

“I’m just… Your dad’s a doctor.” Max says helplessly, like that explains everything. Avery quirks an eyebrow and smiles slightly, thumb still stroking Max’s abundance of freckles.

“In Literary Studies.”

“I know. But…” Max huffs, rolling his eyes, “It’s just. He’s smart.”

“And you’re not?” Avery asks drily. Max gives him a dark look.

“No. I fix cars. And I’ll probably be doin’ it for the rest of my life. I’m not smart like you... or your family.” And then the clogs and gears all click in Avery’s head.

“Just because you go to college doesn’t mean you’re smarter.” Avery says sadly, “Mom never went to college, and Quinn wants to do professional make-up. And you could go to college if you wanted.”

“No. I couldn’t. Anyway, that’s not the point—“

“Then what is?”
Max fixes him with a long, hard stare. A stare that Avery hasn’t been able to read completely yet, but one he knows Max wears when he’s trying desperately to make someone understand without having to spill his feelings. Finally, when Avery looks just as blank, Max sighs, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“’m not good enough… for you, I mean.” He says softly, not meeting Avery’s imploring eyes.

“Yes, you are.” Avery says, smiling slightly and kissing Max’s freckled cheek. When Max huffs, pulling away from Avery’s tiny kisses; annoyed, he sits up straighter in his boyfriend’s lap. His other hand coming up to pull Max’s face upwards to look at his own.

“You’re good at math and science. You can fix cars, and then take them apart. You can play football, and you’re strong. You’re calm and analytical. You’re caring and protective. You’re a wonderful person, even with your flaws. You take care of everyone around you. You take care of Allie and me and even Kat. And… and you’re hot.” Avery adds with a shy grin. Max’s cheeks are tinted pink as he rolls his eyes.

“And you’re not?”

“I’m not any of those things. That’s why I listed them.” Avery says confused. Max snorts, his cheeks reddening further. Avery lifts an eyebrow at Max’s deep flush.

“Wait. Do you think that I’m—“

“Whatever. I still don’t think your parents will think the way you do. They’ll think I’m trailer trash.” Max cuts Avery off swiftly. He rolls his eyes, ingoing Max’s almost-statement for now.

“But you don’t live in a trailer.” Avery says stupidly. Max chortles, rolling his laughing eyes.

“No. But I don’t live in the historical district, neither.” He teases, causing Avery to giggle.

“That’s stupid. Mom and Dad don’t care where you live. They don’t care that you work in a garage. They just care that you care about me and I’m happy.” Avery says truthfully, and then as an afterthought, “Actually, Dad might want you to look at his car. It makes this weird noise when he brakes.”

“Probably brake pads.” Max says, but he’s smiling, his dimples showing and his eyes glinting happily.

“See? Dad will like you. You can fix his car and he’ll stop bitching to everyone.”

“And your mom? Does she need an oil change or somethin’?”

“Maybe. But you don’t have to worry about mom anyway.” Avery says, resting his forehead against Max’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Avery confirms, “Mom can’t find it in herself to hate anyone.”

“Even me?” Max asks drily. And this is a look that Avery can read. It screams through every pore in Max’s body. I hurt you. I beat you up. What would your mother think of me if she knew that? Avery smiles and places a tiny kiss to the tip of Max’s speckled nose.

“Especially you.”

Max huffs a small laugh, one arm circling Avery’s back and the other gripping the back of his head lightly, as he pulls Avery into a warm embrace. Avery melts into the hold, his own arms coming up to wrap loosely around Max’s neck. They sit in soft silence, the only noise around them the soft crooning of Robert Plant (who Avery has learned about in the aftermath of these nights, where Max has sworn to wean Avery off ‘hipster bullshit’ and on to real music) and the rude chirping of crickets. Avery vague thinks that he should probably remove himself from Max’s lap, because the quarterback’s legs must be totally dead, but when he tries to move, Max pulls his tighter.

“Your mom a good cook?”

“Better than most. At least, I think so.” Avery smiles softly into the crook of Max’s neck. He can feel Max’s shoulder shrug, as he places a small kiss to the side of Avery’s head.

“Sunday?” He whispers into Avery’s hair.

Avery smiles wider, placing a small, grateful kiss to the shirt covered area where Max’s neck meets his shoulder. A warm bubble of hope has blossomed in Avery chest and he feels almost giddy with happiness, because Max cares. Actually cares.

“I’ll tell mom to have a protein shake at the ready.” Avery grins. Max chuckles, pulling away slightly to look at Avery. His face is open, smiling brightly, a pink tint to his cheeks. He flicks Avery’s ear, laughing louder at Avery’s whine of protest.

“You’re annoying. Don’t know why I put up with you.” He says, drily.

But the gentle kiss to Avery’s lips takes away the sting.