#I will NEVER proof read a Timblr post

[catzz089]

“Catz?? It’s late Thursday??? Where was the snippet?? Don’t you do them on Wednesdays?”

Max.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, Charles’ face was hovering in front of his own, etched in more than mild concern.

He still hadn’t let go of Max’s face.

“Hm?”

“Are you alright, chéri? You seem a little distant there. Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine.” He breathed, “ Aren’t the pancakes burning?”

“There aren’t any on right now, are you sure you’re alright? Is there any pain, discomfort?”

“Just the regular, I feel like it should hurt more- Am I on meds?”

Charles brushed a hand through his hair, neatening up what must be an army of fucked up, clumped up strands all stood to attention.

“Yes. We put you on some regular painkillers so you could be a little bit more relaxed. You’ve been healing well but your injuries were quite extreme.”

Max hummed. He still didn’t really know what injuries Charles was on about, but he figured he also didn’t particularly care. As long as they didn’t bother him, he could ignore them.

He could definitely feel a sharp, spiking pain in his torso, though. It made him want to curl up somewhere soft in the vague hope that at least some of the pressure would be relieved.

There was also a constant drumming from his head, actually it only seemed to be increasing and he had no clue why, it really wasn’t helping with the whole ‘very fuzzy brain’ thing.

“Charles?”

“Yes?”

“My head really hurts.”

Charles sighed, exasperated, “You know, thirty seconds ago would have been a really good time to bring this up. You know, when I asked if anything hurt.”

Max pouted.

It hadn’t hurt then, or at least he hadn’t noticed it. But he was doing as Charles wanted and telling him when he was in pain, so there was absolutely no reason for Charles to-

“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that ma foi, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad you told me, mon petit.”

Was Max really that obvious? He hadn’t even said anything.

“I think probably the lights are too bright, your head is sensitive, merde, I should have dimmed them, I’m sorry mon beau, I’ll do that now, oui?”

Charles looked concerned, again, and it was making his accent come out more and his words jumble, it was cute.

He dashed off to the lights, dimming them before Max could even give a response.

He was right, it made him feel significantly better and just a little bit more alive.

So alive, that he hopped off the chair and wandered towards where Charles was cooking and humming to himself, after deciding to preserve Max’s energy and not rope him into conversations.

Which was nice of him, very nice.

But now he was bored.

So being up close to watch Charles flip the pancakes was somewhat entertaining, and he’d take that and run with it.

He siddled up next to Charles, instantly leaning on the countertop because his body really wasn’t happy with him taking his full weight.

“Max!”

Neither was Charles, apparently.

Although considering Max had the pleasure of being lifted and gently settled on the countertop, so he could watch the pancakes and Charles, but this time whilst he was closer, he figured he was still the winner in the situation.

When Charles had curated two full plates of pancakes, he balanced the both on one warm, like a true waiter- Max hadn’t even perfected that yet, it was a little unfair that Charles could, even when he would only ever dare dabble into that side of the business if it was pure necessity- and with the other, he pulled Max closer to the edge of the countertop. He looked over confused, because why would he ever-

Holy fucking shit.

Charles came beside him and had wrapped an arm under the top of his thighs, hoisting him up against his body and lifted.

Charles was carrying him.

In one arm.

Max could have orgasmed on the spot.

He didn’t, because that would be embarrassing, but it certainly didn’t stop the redness taking over his cheeks and ears and neck.

Charles was doing it all like it didn’t even mean anything, without a second glance. He just walked over and placed one of the dishes on the table, and somehow managed to perform enough wizardry to shuffle the second one off too, on the seat next to it.

He then wrapped his now free hand around Max and kicked one of the chairs out before slowly lowering Max down onto it. The cats were hovering underneath the, the lights were still dim, Charles was looking at him.

It was all very dometic.

Which Max, absolutely could not, under any circumstances be thinking about, because that was his boss who happened to be nice and way out of his league, so he could not fuck up a perfectly good friendship because it was not going to happen.

Even if his chest felt warm, and he was happy, and everything was just so fucking good.

Even when Charles reached over to cut all of Max’s food into bite-sized pieces, because Max only had one hand to use, so it would be so much easier for him to just be able to spear a bit of food and bring it to his mouth.

Boss. Employer. Way too good for him.