no cig, full puff

MOTO MAX

"Just say you're too pussy to do nude beach yoga."

Charles chokes as Max grins at him from across the table, twirling a strand of pasta around his fork. There's a satisfied gleam to his eyes, knowing he's successfully managed to somehow wrangle them into a debate about the merits of different yoga locations.

Charles doesn't even do yoga. He's pretty sure Max doesn't either.

"You are making that sound unreasonable on purpose."

He narrows his eyes as Max's lip twitches, lowering his head to take a bite before leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

"I just think you are being a prude about it. I thought you were French?"

"You know I'm not—"

He breaks off as Max laughs, head tilted back, and immediately he can feel the flush across his cheeks as he lightly kicks Max's foot under the table.

"You are doing that on purpose."

Max shrugs, the gesture loose and easy, eyes glinting at him, reflecting the warm lighting of the restaurant around them. Charles already knows he's too far gone.

FAMIGLIA

Max knows as soon as he wakes up that it's going to be a long day. There's a tight ache in his arm, splintering up into his shoulder, and his fingers hurt even while he lies still in bed, unwilling to even twitch them. A cold front had been projected to sweep in overnight, and he supposes it's here now, making itself known with a bone deep hurt.

He tucks his head back into the pillow, unwilling to try and move much. GP probably isn't awake yet— his clock on the desk reads 05:45, and he takes a moment to feel sorry for himself that he probably won't be able to fall back asleep now.

His phone is resting on the edge of the desk, close enough to grab normally, but it feels like an insurmountable distance with how he's currently positioned, and he only dares to tug the blanket a bit higher across his shoulder before resigning himself to a fitful doze.

------

"—ax."

He blinks a few times, lifting his head enough to meet GP's concerned gaze. He feels disoriented, head fuzzy, and the back of GP's hand is cool against his forehead. He can hear a concerned breath, but a moment later GP is nudging at him again.

"Max, I need you to sit up for a second."

He will, in a minute, just as soon as he has the energy for it.

"Max,"

Gianpiero sounds worried. Max hates when it's his fault.

UNNAMED BLOB

Arvid goes face first down the stairs, which is really the best possible indicator for Max on how the day is going to go. He stares blankly from where he's standing by the coffee machine, squinting as he tries to make out if the kid is still breathing or not.

There's a muffled groan into the tile, and Max blows out a relived breath.

"Morning."

"Hhhhrrrgghhhh."

Max pours another cup of coffee. Arvid likes to have a little bit of creamer when he thinks no one is looking, but the semester has been rough enough that Max thinks he won't even notice he's basically drinking milk in front of everyone.

There's a jangle of keys in the doorway, and then nails on the hardwood, and Carlos comes around the corner as he unclips Tito's leash, the dog launching himself around the corner and up the stairs. He clears Arvid with an easy jump, and Max knows any second now he'll hear Liam upstairs—

"Motherfu—!"