Pressure
Angel_made_of_scars
Max doesn't say anything at first, but Nurfs abuse over the damn egg unsettled him. So much so, that when Preston doesn't come out of his tent that morning, Max can't eat his breakfast.
Not that he does eat much anyway, but he just can't stomach anything. So he gets up, and heads out to Prestons tent, ignoring Nikki and Neil. They take his silence as a warning thankfully and don't follow him.
He couldn't exactly knock on a tent door, so he just opened in and headed in. Preston was in his bed, cradling his arm. He was crying, and didn't even hear Max. His hair was much longer than Max had thought. It wasn't curled. He didn't have his usual get up on either, just his yellow camp shirt.
"Preston?" Max called quietly. He didn't want to frighten him, but he still jumped straight up in bed yelping.
"Max?"
"Yeah, your eye that fucked up?" Max said. Preston didn't answer, just looked away. He reached out for the sunglasses that were on the bed next to him and Max knocked them out of his hands.
"Don't hide that shit from me, I see it enough at home in the mirror, I know what it looks like. Just try to open it all the way." Max said. He took Prestons larger face in his hands and pulled him until they were inches apart. Preston hesitated before complying.
"It's really not that bad. You'll heal. What's wrong with your arm?" Max pointed. Preston still had his hand covering his wrist.
"It's nothing, really. I'm sure it was my fault-"
"Preston, you're an idiot. It's never your fault. Give it here." Max demanded. Preston got teary and finally showed off his wrist. It was practically purple where Nurf had left a hand print.
"Shit Preston, that looks fucked up. We need to get David. Or Gwen. Or somebody who knows first aid." Max said. Preston grabbed Max with his good hand.
"You can't! They can't... find out... I was weak." Preston admitted. Max sighed and put his hand over Prestons on his shirt.
"Look, you're not fucking weak ok? Nurf is just an abusive asshole who took it too far. Got it?" Max said. Preston looked surprised, but still nodded.
"You need to let someone take care of you alright? Is there a kit in here? I can do it, I guess." Max said, trying not to make a big deal. Preston pointed to the corner, and thankfully didn't ask how he knew to wrap a sprained wrist.
Max got to work with the ace bandage, gently wrapping his hand, before putting a brace over it. He was still holding Prestons hand, but he wasn't looking up. He just stared at it. Preston leaned forward.
"Max?"
"Yeah?" He said, looking up.
"Thank you." Preston said. He closed the gap and Max froze as Preston kissed his cheek quickly. And too suddenly he was panicking, his fathers rules rushing back to his head.
"W-What the hell was that?! You're- you're gay!" Max yelled.
He stumbled backwards and ran, right out of the tent. He ran so fast that he didn't see Davids knees until he had run into them. He landed straight on his ass and looked up. David looked concerned as always.
