Words You Wouldn't Say

Mike's phone was ringing on the coffee table.

Max was fairly sure that it said "Anna" on the screen, so he didn't dare even touch it. Otis reached for it, annoyed at the tone, and Max carefully moved it from his reach.

It ended, and then rang again. Max sighed, frustrated, and moved to his room, where Mike was still asleep. Gently, he shook him awake and handed over the phone. Groggily, Mike took it, glanced at it, sighed and answered, holding it up to his face.

Max couldn't really hear what Anna said, but it sounded something like, "We need to talk, don't bring Otis." When Mike asked if Max could watch Otis for a bit, Max assumed he was pretty spot on.

He nodded and Mike left him his cell phone to call Anna in case something happened. Max was desperately praying nothing happened while Mike was gone, and then he figured he could probably call Chester instead, and it'd seem like Chester had been watching Otis instead.

Max definitely did not want to feel the wrath of mothers that day.

Otis decided shortly after Mike had left that he was hungry, and Max found his baby food in the bag and fed him, making sure he didn't make a mess. Otis babbled at him while he ate, and Max pretended he was holding a conversation with a full grown adult instead of a one year old baby.

"He's your dad," Max told Otis. "He's a dad. Wouldn't that make me a home wrecker?" Otis babbled in response. "I mean, your mother probably already thinks of me as a home wrecker. I haven't even seen Mike in like, twelve years." He fed Otis another spoonful. "Honestly, no offense, your mother is bat shit crazy." Otis laughed and Maxwell was horrified. "Crap, no, you didn't hear that."

Make a good impression on a one year old baby? Check.

An hour passed and Mike didn't come back. Max turned on Netflix, putting on a cheesy kid's cartoon for Otis, who watched happily. Kids are so easily entertained, Max thought idly.

Three more hours passed and Mike still wasn't back. Max was getting tired of watching kids cartoons, and he was tempted to call Chester and see if he knew where Mike was. He restrained himself though, because he didn't want Chester to get that smug look he did when he was right. Chester only needed to know that Max had Otis if there was an emergency.

Darkness fell, and Otis fell asleep with it. He curled up on Max's lap, yawned, rubbed his eyes a little, and fell right asleep. Max let him lay there for a while, before taking him to his room and laying him carefully on the bed, multiple pillows tucked into the space between him and the edge of the bed so he couldn't roll off. (At least, not without some difficulty.)

He was considering taking Mike's phone and calling to search for him when there was a knock at his door. He jumped in surprise and looked through the peephole to find Mike standing outside his door, looking wrecked. He opened the door quickly and Mike stumbled in, giving him a short thanks before pressing him against the wall. Max gave a sound of surprise and pressed back against Mike, causing him to stumble backward.

"Sorry," Mike mumbled. "I didn't..." He rubbed his face and moved further into the apartment. "Is Otis okay?"

"He's fine, he's asleep," Max said. "Are you drunk?"

"No," Mike said seriously. He paused, and then, "Yes, definitely." At that he laughed, and fell onto the catch, where his laugh turned into something like a sob. "She's divorcing me," he said after a minute. He flipped around, facing the ceiling. "I mean, I saw it coming, but I'm getting divorced. That's so fucking shitty."

Max frowned. "So you went out and got plastered?" Mike looked at him slowly.

"I shouldn't have," Mike nodded. "It was a really bad decision, but I got one, and then I really felt like I need another, so I got twelve more." Max blinked.

"How did you get home?" Mike grunted out that he walked, and Max's eyes went wide, "You could've been murdered, Mike!" Mike frowned.

"That's nonsense, I'm not a college student." Max's eyebrow raised. "Oh, you don't have cable! Well see, on the news, they said there's been more than one victim. And they're all college students."

"Stop changing the subject," Max chided. Mike pressed his lips together tightly. "That was really stupid of you, Mike."

"I couldn't help it," he whispered. "We had a really big fight."

"About divorcing?" Max kneeled next to Mike, who covered his eyes, lip wobbling as he shook his head. "What else is going on?"

"She's pregnant," he whispered. Max reeled back. "It's mine, I know that it is, but she doesn't want to keep it." He sighed. "I had to fight to convince her to keep it, and I'd take it and Otis and be out of her hair."

"I'm sorry," Max said quietly. Mike reached out and gripped Max's hand tightly, and Max let him.

"Her lawyer said since I'm taking the kids, I won't have to pay her much. She said she doesn't want anything from me, but that's not really how divorce works. She's getting the house." Mike sighed. "I don't even want to go back there."

"You don't have to," Max said. He was speaking before his brain could process the words. "You can stay here if you need to." Mike looked at him slowly.

"I was so shitty to you," he said. Max laughed abruptly, surprised. "Fuck, I loved you and I was so shitty to you. I'd hate me and never talk to me too." Max fell quiet, eyes going wide, but Mike was tugging him onto the couch, curling around him. "Please," was all he said. Max stared at his chest until he fell asleep. He contemplated moving, and decided after a while that he probably shouldn't fall asleep like that.

He went and fetched a pillow from his room and put it under Mike's neck before stretching out on the floor, back against the couch, and watched Netflix all night.

*

Mike woke at dawn.

He rubbed sleep out of his eyes and groaned at the bright light, and Max brought him some Tylenol and a glass of water. He took it gratefully and downed the water in a few gulps, then went to check on Otis. Max watched him tiredly and rested his head against the coffee table.

Mike came back after a while and sat next to Max. There was silence for a few minutes, and then he said, "I'm sorry for yesterday." Max rolled his head to the side to look at Mike. "It was really irresponsible of me to leave Otis here with you for so long while I went out and drank."

"He's a good baby," Max mused. Mike nodded, then sighed softly.

"I shouldn't have unloaded on you like that." Max placed a hand on his arm to say it was okay, and Mike tentatively took his hand. When Max didn't pull away, he tilted his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. "I don't really know where to go from here."

"Well," Max said gently, "you could go and get your things from that house and then maybe take a shower." Mike smiled slightly. "I'd say vice versa, but I don't think I have anything that would fit you." Mike squeezed his hand in a gentle thank you. "Then maybe you should find a place, cause I don't think this apartment will host both of us and two kids very well." Mike looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"I think you could handle it," he said, tone light, but Max could tell he wasn't joking.

Max looked away, lips pursing. The way Mike was looking at him made him think of his confession the night before, and Max really didn't want to think about that.

Mike said quietly, "I meant what I said. Even if I was drunk." Max very determinedly didn't look up and Mike sighed softly. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"I think," Max said slowly, "that you just got dumped and you need some time to clear your head." He pulled his hand away and stood. "Take your time, Mike." Mike looked up at him slowly.

At that moment, Mike's phone went off. He scowled at it and picked it up, snapping, "What, Chester?" into the mic. His face went blank, and he glanced at Max before scrambling up and to the window. Max followed, confused, and noticed the long line of cop cars outside his building.

"What's going on?" he whispered to Mike, but he was listening intently to whatever Chester was saying.

After a while, Mike hung up and closed the blinds, giving Max a grim look. "They found another victim," he said quietly. "In the alley, again. They think they've found a tie between all the victims."

Max raised his eyebrows in question, but Mike seemed unwilling to talk any further. "And?" he prompted.

"They all went to your school," Mike started, "they're all men, and they were all gay." Max's eyes scrunched and he bit his lip. Mike glanced around the apartment. "We're moving you out of the area," he said, as if there was no argument about it. Max scoffed.

"We are not," he said stubbornly. "This is the cheapest complex in the area, and it's close to my campus." Mike gave him a look. "Besides, I have to give a three month notice. I can't just move out on a whim, and certainly not just because some guys got murdered in my backyard." As soon as it left his mouth, he realized how bad that sounded.

Mike was looking at him as if Max had just proved his point.

"I can't leave," Max said firmly. Mike gave an exasperated sigh.

"If you're staying here, then I'm staying with you." Max rolled his eyes. "No, I mean it. It's obvious that this area isn't safe, and you have to be safe. And when your classes are over, we can get out of here." Max didn't comment on Mike's use of the word 'we.' That'd be an argument for another day. "You said I could stay last night, so I'm staying."

"Fine," Max hissed. He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Now if you don't mind, I have to get ready for class." He reached under the fake potted plant and threw Mike his spare key. "I guess you'll be needing that." Mike took it and slipped it onto his key chain as Max stepped into his room and then into the bathroom for a shower.

Mike was cooking breakfast when he stepped out of his room, freshly clothed and hair pushed off his forehead. He narrowed his eyes at the smell and stepped into the kitchen, where Mike was humming quietly as he cooked. "Why are you cooking in my apartment?" he muttered, going for the jug of milk in his refrigerator. Mike glanced at him as he poured himself a glass.

"Thought you might like something to eat before you left," he said conversationally. "Though your pantry is lacking. I'll have to go to the store after I get my things." Max groaned.

"You're not turning into a house wife, are you?" Mike chuckled.

"Well, it seems I'm the stay-at-home dad in this situation, so I suppose I am." Max rolled his eyes. "I'll get Phoenix to bring his truck so we can bring the crib and you can have your bed back." Max glanced at him as he began plating the food.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Mike shrugged.

"The couch, probably. It's fine, though," he said quickly as Max began to protest. "Perfect spot to keep an eye on everything."

Max sighed. "I'm not going to get murdered."

"Better safe than sorry, Max."

"You don't have to baby me," Max mumbled. "I've been fine on my own for years." Mike's expression softened and he placed a hand on Maxwell's shoulder.

"You shouldn't have had to be on your own," he said quietly. Max couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm gonna take care of you like I should have years ago, and you're gonna let me, alright?"

Max nodded after a few seconds and Mike let his hand fall, brushing it over Max's arm briefly before he handed Max the plate of food and made his own.

Max ate slowly before he left for class.