My Feral

13

Author's Note: wow! Here I am, after way too damn long, which I am very sorry about, with an update finally! Things got kind of time-consuming, and almost all of my time/inspiration has gone into school and writing assignments lately. But, I am going to try my very hardest to update more frequently, and actually follow my update schedule for once. And, thank you all for your continued support of me and my writing. It helps, and means, so much. Ya'll are the bees knees. (Also, sorry for the short AF chapter. It's kind of a filler before the juicy stuff gets going, and we all find out just how gay I can write Max without going out of character).

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In the morning, Max wakes up on the floor of his livingroom, legs tangled in the comforter, soaked in sweat from a nightmare that he can't remember. Stretching, he groans at the pops and cracks that emit from his tired body, and rolls over onto his stomach. Getting both arms and his left leg under him, Max gets stiffly to his feet and wonders when the hell he rolled off the couch, because it feels like he spent all night on the damn floor.

Straightening up all the way and rubbing at his bum knee, Max makes his way to the bathroom, and stops momentarily in the kitchen to take his daily cocktail of medication. Once in the small-ish room, tiled floor cold against bare feet, he runs calloused hands through stubborn cowlick bedhead, brushes his teeth, shaves and cuts his face twice.

Strapping on his brace, Max pulls on his shoes and grabs Nux's present before he checks the time on his phone and he heads out the door, only mildly unsurprised that he managed to get up at the same time without an alarm. "Well," he says to the empty house, "that's one less alarm clock I have to buy," and closes and locks the door behind him.

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Pulling into the parking spot close enough to the front entrance to be a handicap one, Max turns off the car and jumps in his seat when Capable knocks on the window. Stepping out, he gratefully takes the proffered cup of coffee and follows the redhead through the automatic double doors and into the staff break room.

Sitting down in a chair at one of the two round tables, Max watches as Cape goes to the fridge and removes two plastic cups before coming and sitting down next to him. Then, she sets a cup and spoon in front of him and herself before resting her chin on steepled fingers and looking at Max in such a way that heat begins to creep up his neck.

"So, I see you've gotten lover boy a present," she says, and takes a bite of what Max has just realized is a breakfast parfait, before he has a chance to deny it.

Max nods, shrugs, and turns a bright shade of pink, ducking his head and eating his own parfait before he opens his mouth and says something that will just prove Capable's point. Because, when it comes down to it, even though he is a master at controlling his facial expressions to not give away emotion and communicating in mostly grunts, Max Rockatansky is like an open book to the redhead, and they both know it.