#jealous max

Daniel stood in his living room, texting someone. Not a burglar, but no less surprising. Considering that they hadn’t spoken in two days— one of which he was travelling for— after an, arguably unnecessary, argument. She’d left his flat in a huff and didn’t answer any of his messages. 

She knew he’d be gone for a few days, knew his schedule because he shared it with her. So that didn’t explain why she was there now, when he wasn’t. Max thought about texting her, but had a hunch that she would ignore it as well. Maybe she just missed him like he missed her? The argument was stupid and his fault. A misunderstanding taken too far. 

He watched as she took off her sneakers, setting them to the side of the couch before walking to the front door. Someone followed her inside and Max paused. Who was that?

Max watched, arrested where he stood in the middle of his hotel room, as his long time on again off again situationship relationship pressed this unknown man into Max’s couch and got to her knees. Max’s fist clenched at his side the entire time he watched, stone faced. Pissed.

What the actual fuck?

When it was over, the man’s release coming with a sagging of his limbs, Max watched as Daniel hugged and led him to the door. 

Daniel went to the bathroom to clean herself up. While she was out of the frame of the camera, Max received a text from her. 

Happy now?

What the hell??

He responded with a series of question marks. Belaying the absolute rage and betrayal he felt. And hurt by her blasè response to cheating on him in his own home. 

She walked back into the camera frame and slipped her shoes back on calmly, bending over to hook her finger in the heel so it didn’t crease. She hated when they creased. Daniel stood then, just under the camera looking up, stone faced. 

“Got what you wanted? Had a good show? Don’t ever fucking ask me to do that again.” She hissed at him through the camera before storming out and slamming the door behind her. 

Ask her to do? What the fuck was she talking about? Max was confused, upset that she would pin this decision on him. 

Until the memory hit him like a thunderclap. 

“You want me to do what??” Daniel had sat up in the couch, eyes wide. Her hair had been in a messy bun and she wore one of Max’s sample hoodies. Her tattooed thigh peeking from underneath. “Is this a punishment for something?”

“It’s something I want to try. It’s a jealousy thing.” Max had explained softly. He didn’t want to open up whatever they had to other people, he just wanted the thrill of being openly possessive of Daniel. A feeling he felt naturally. 

“And this can only be achieved if I fuck someone else. Not even flirt, full blown intercourse.” She asked deadpan. 

“It doesn’t have to be— it can just be head. But yeah.”

“I’m not trying to yuck your yum but that’s something I have to think about first.” 

That had been the last they’d spoken of it. That had also been months ago.

And she had waited until he pissed her off enough to use his own request against him.