Now We're Home (MaxPres) | ✔️

Chapter Twenty

There was a knock at the door.

Preston sighed loudly, still stuck on the couch. He pulled out an earbud and raised his voice some. "Max, can you get that?"

A pause. "Sure, give me a sec," he replied. The theatre geek sighed again and leaned back onto the couch. He watched his boyfriend walk into the room and whispered "Sorry."

The teen rolled his eyes and opened the door. He blinked, surprised to see a box on their doorstep. He stuck his head out the door and looked around for someone. With no luck, he shrugged and took the box inside.

"We got a package, apparently," he said casually. Preston perked up. "Wait, who's it address to?"

Max placed the box on the floor and checked the side of it. "It just says "The Goodplays" with... Is that a fucking winking face?"

Preston snickered. "Probably from my mom, then. I was worried it was your Christmas present."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Ooh, you're ordering it from somewhere?"

"Yep. Can't tell you the website though."

"Why not?" he whined, leaning against the side of the box. Before his love could answer, the box moved from underneath him. He caught himself with his arm and gasped quietly. He heard the actor laugh and stifled a growl.

"Smooth, Maxxy," he commented. The scholar ignored the glare he received and motioned towards the package, with was still moving away from Max. "We have a runaway box."

He tore his gaze away from Preston and his eyes widened. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What?" The taller asked, watching the box. The younger crawled over to the box and grabbed it. He ripped off the tape and opened it. "God dammit."

"What?" he asked again, trying to get a better look. Suddenly, an orange kitten jumped out of it. It shook out its fur and glanced up at Preston. He froze. "God dammit, Mom."

Max sighed and crossed his legs, so he was (ironically) sitting indian style on the floor. "Yep. She brought us a kitten."

It jumped onto Preston's and started kneading his thighs and purring. "Is this the same kitten you were playing with at her place?"

"Pretty sure of it," the black haired boy muttered. He reached into the box and pulled out a bowl, some canned cat food, and a small litter box. "Damn. No wonder he wanted out."

The actor shook his head and ruffled the kitten's fur. "I kinda expected her to do something like this."

"Really?" Max questioned, getting off of the floor. He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Preston. The kitten watched him walk over and meowed.

Preston sighed. "Yeah. She's spontaneous like that." He rested his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and watched the kitten jump down to the floor. He felt the senior lace their fingers together.

"Have any names for him?" The teenager asked, leaning on the other. The older hummed. "Not really, besides Rich or Jake. You?"

He chewed on his bottom lip. "Honestly... I was thinking Rascal."

"Ooh, why that one?"

Before Max could answer, there was a crash from the kitchen. Preston sat up, alarmed, while the shorter just sighed.

"That's why," was all he said before getting up to check what had been knocked over. The playwright shook his head and smirked, watching him go.

"Let's just hope this kitty isn't too much of a rascal..."