#oc:maddox

[dickytwister]

OC KISS WEEK DAY 1 prompt: almost ocs: emmanuel marshall/maddox callaghan word count: 1553

The week had been long, exhaustingly so. Yet, instead of climbing the stairs from the bakery to his apartment, Emmanuel found himself standing in Maddox’s kitchen. He hadn’t planned on this, hadn’t planned on intruding in Maddox’s space, but the latter had shown up at the bakery with a smile on his face and an offer to spend the evening together to unwind and Emmanuel hadn’t had the will nor the desire to refuse.

“Rough day?” came Maddox’s voice from the hallway seconds before the man joined him in the kitchen, carrying with him a sealed bottle of red wine—not Emmanuel’s favourite, far from it, but after busting his ass for an entire week without break, he wasn’t going to snub any kind of wine, especially when it was so graciously proposed.

With a tired scoff, Emmanuel nodded, leaning heavily against the edge of the marble counter top.

“That is one way to put it, yes,” he replied wearily. He ran a hand over his face, the week’s fatigue seemingly crashing into him before he’d even gotten a taste of the alcohol. “Though I wouldn’t want to burden you with it.”

“You know I wouldn’t mind.” Along with the words, Maddox poured wine in two wine glasses, though his eyes scarcely left Emmanuel’s. There was a smile on his face still, pretty pink lips curled into a relaxed curve, and he seemed to glow underneath the kitchen’s dimmed lights.

Another scoff, this one for the sole purpose of concealing the flush rising on Emmanuel’s cheeks. With a shake of his head, he went on.

“Thank you. I mean– for this.” For the wine, he wanted to say. For pulling him away from his gloomy apartment for one night. For his friendship, his heart yearned to scream, for believing in him when fate would have had it otherwise. For giving him a chance where no one in their right mind would have. Instead, he reached for a glass and rolls the stem between two fingers, suddenly extremely taken by the swirling of the red wine. “All of it.”

“You know I’d do it again,” Maddox hummed, then gently touched his fingers to Emmanuel’s wrist, the touch both electrifying and grounding. “All of it.”

And Emmanuel, despite being a mind-reader, didn’t need to be one to know Maddox was speaking only the truth. Which didn’t make it any easier to accept his words; he’d done so much for Emmanuel already, had literally saved his life and given him a safe haven when his abilities proved to be too much for him to bear, and Emmanuel had yet to repay him in any way. That a man so selfless as Maddox would see anything worth fighting for in him was beyond him.

The fingers on his wrist moved to his arm, where they squeezed his bicep lightly, as if to pull him from his thoughts– and when Emmanuel looked up from his wine and into Maddox’s eyes, he knew that Maddox could see right through him. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” Maddox reassured, as if he were the telepath, as if he’d heard every single thought Emmanuel had had since he first walked into Maddox’s house. Before Emmanuel could retort, the other squeezed his arm again, this time just enough to pinch slightly. “Emmie. You. Owe. Me. Nothing.”

“But I do!” Emmanuel contested—whined, nearly, tone high and needy, desperate to give back where he’d so selfishly taken from Maddox. “You’ve done– so much for me. I just– I can’t keep leeching off you like this, Maddie. It’s not healthy. For either of us.”

“You want to pay me back?” Gone was the softness in Maddox’s voice, replaced instead by an edge, a challenge. “You want to compensate me?”

Emmanuel grew quiet. Unsure. Fingers tight around the stem of his glass. Waiting–

Until the smile found Maddox’s face again and he put down his own glass before turning to Emmanuel and extending one hand with his palm facing up. 

“Then dance with me.”

A few seconds of silence followed as Emmanuel took in the words.

“You want to… dance?” he asked hesitantly, as though Maddox had just asked him to climb Mount Everest whilst naked. “With me?”

Maddox chuckled and nodded, his hand still held forward in waiting. Emmanuel had no doubt that Maddox would hold his hand out forever if he needed to, ever patient when it came to him.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because they hadn’t danced before, Emmanuel thought. Because the most physical contact they’d had prior to Maddox’s fingers on his wrist earlier had come from a place of worry rather than want. Because, if they were to dance, if he were to wrap his arms around Maddox’s shoulders and feel his palms on his waist, Emmanuel knew without a doubt that he’d combust on the spot.

“I can’t dance.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“There’s no music.”

To that, Maddox began to hum under his breath. Emmanuel couldn’t recognize the melody, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless, amused and nervous in equal parts. 

When his gaze then found Maddox’s unwavering one, Emmanuel could find no ill-intent in those blue eyes, nor could he find any other reason to refuse when he focused his mind past Maddox’s barriers and into the depths of his soul. So with a stuttering breath, Emmanuel drank the rest of his wine, put down the empty glass and cautiously reached for Maddox’s hand.

Slowly, as if to allow him to step away if need be—as if Emmanuel could ever step away, as if he’d ever want to—, Maddox pulled him closer, until their chests were mere inches apart and his free hand could freely slither around the curve of Emmanuel’s waist and settle into the divot of his lower back. Instinctively, and perhaps remembering the lessons he’d been taught as a child, Emmanuel reached up with his own free hand and laid it down lightly on Maddox’s shoulder; he had to stop himself from clinging to him like a lifeline, the situation causing his legs to weaken and his knees to buckle.

From this close, Emmanuel could nearly feel the vibrations coming from Maddox’s chest as he kept on humming, could definitely feel his breath on his cheek when Maddox led him into the first steps of a simple waltz. They hit the kitchen island a few times, Emmanuel’s elbow caught the glasses twice and Maddox interrupted himself in his song to giggle at each misstep, but neither stopped as they slowly danced across the space of the kitchen and into the spacious living room.

“You’re doing great,” Maddox praised between two steps. His smile looked even brighter from up close. Emmanuel hoped the other couldn’t feel the way his heart thumped loudly in his chest. “Ready for a spin?”

Emmanuel shook his head. Vehemently.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“It’s easy.”

“Maddie–”

“Trust me?”

Always. Emmanuel sighed and nodded.

He’d never been very agile. As a child, he’d often find himself tripping on his own feet or scraping his knees after stepping over a curb. Even as he’d grown, he’d run into lampposts and street signs, distracted by the constant buzzing of thoughts surrounding him. 

So it was no surprise when, upon being spun around, his foot got caught in his own leg and he went pummelling down, pulling with him a very surprised and completely unprepared Maddox.

Emmanuel fell on the couch with a loud screech that he would later deny ever making. Above him, Maddox kept himself from crushing him with an arm propping himself up next to Emmanuel’s face. 

Yet, despite their best efforts, their faces ended up only a few inches from each other, their breaths warm on each other’s face, and Emmanuel could hear every single thought that ran through Maddox’s mind, ranging from oh no oh god oh shit to i never want to get up again. It was dizzying, as Maddox’s thoughts always were, but to know– again, without a doubt, that there was more to them, more to this, left Emmanuel reeling, unsure whether to lean in for more or step away to keep his own mind safe from the yearning oozing from Maddox like blood from a wound.

They stayed like this for too long, staring into each other’s eyes, waiting fro something, anything to happen. Holding their breaths. 

Maddox was only inches away. If Emmanuel were to lean closer–

With his elbow, he pushed himself up slightly, just enough for his nose to graze Maddox’s and, when their lips were just about to touch, he turned his head to the side and pressed a brief kiss to the other’s cheek. It was fleeting, shy, had Emmanuel’s own cheeks flaming in a matter of seconds, had him wondering immediately if he’d gone too far, if he’d been too fast– but Maddox’s mind was wordless, filled with explosions of colours and feelings Emmanuel could feel seep beneath his own skin, and he pulled away with a small smile. 

Maddox stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape, until Emmanuel shrugged himself off the couch and walked back to the kitchen with a glance backwards.

“Come on,” he called, “I want more of that expensive wine.”

He heard Maddox chuckle warmly behind him and his smile widened, his face red with the beating of his heart.