"Tell me again."
Max hums, moving his hand in slow circles along Daniel's back, feeling his chest move against his side, his face hidden in the folds of Max's t-shirt.
He bows his head, pressing a kiss against Daniel's hair, shifting against the hotel's pillows until he's comfortable again.
"It's going to be sunny," he says, voice low, letting Daniel's curls tickle his lips and nose. "It's going to be sunset, orange, the trees all golden in the way you like."
Daniel's back shifts under his hand, his fingers twisting in Max's shirt.
"We'll be sitting in chairs, because you have old man knees, and would complain about sitting on the floor."
He twists away from the halfhearted poke in his side, then settles back.
"They will be those garden ones, the ones with the straw?"
"Wicker," Daniel corrects him softly, voice scratchy.
"Yes, wicker." He tugs Daniel even closer, not knowing how it is even possible. "With pillows, so you can curl in them like a little cat."
He smooths his hand down Daniel's back, like he does with Sassy, when she stretches out beside him on the bed, similar to how Daniel is now. Does it again when he feels Daniel's shoulders uncurl slightly.
"We will be drinking your weird beers, the expensive ones that taste worse than all the others."
"Craft beer isn't weird," Daniel argues, just like Max was expecting him to. He sounds like there's something stuck in the back of his throat, and Max kisses his hair again.
"It is weird, Daniel. Beer does not need to be that expensive."
He gives him space to reply once more, but Daniel doesn't.
"We will drink your weird beer, and we will talk about that time we ate pasta in your hotel room."
It wasn't just one time, but Max knows he doesn't need to specify. They're both thinking about the same one, illegal spaghetti ordered from room service, hidden from their trainers, sauce on the corner of Max's mouth, cleaned by Daniel's thumb first, Daniel's mouth later. And even if they aren't thinking about the same, it doesn't matter. Every plate of pasta shared, in every hotel room, would matter just as much, stepping stones in their story, just as important as that first kiss.
"And it will be rainy," Max continues, voice even lower. His t-shirt is damp, stretched by Daniel's tense fingers. Daniel's back is shuddering, even when he holds him closer and closer and closer.
"It will rain, and you will have a blanket, because you always get cold, even more when it is humid."
The thing that was in Daniel's throat is in his too now.
"We will talk about how stupid everyone was. We will say it was all unfair. But we will not be angry anymore, because it will not matter anymore."
Daniel's hair smell like Max's shampoo, even if he usually doesn't use it, because he hates how dry it makes it feel. Max can taste salt on the back of his throat as he shifts his head slightly, trying to at least keep his ears dry, now that his cheeks are a lost cause.
Daniel's breathing is a stuttered rhythm against his ribs.
"We will cook eggs," Max pushes on, pressing every word against Daniel's skin, hoping every one feels like the i love you that it is. "Because we will have chickens on your farm, like a real farm, so we will be good at cooking eggs. And you will drink your wine, and sing your songs."
His voice breaks, sudden betrayal, just as Daniel trembles in a sob, but Max pushes through. They've both always known how to push through.
"And I will ask are you happy and you will say yes," he says, making it sound like a promise, because it is a promise. "And we will not regret any of it."
He knows they won't. Not the angry moments, not the painful moments, not the annoying little moments they will never even remember. They will take all of them and throw them into the jar of their lives, little pebbles, and colorful marbles, and shards of glass smoothed out with time and love and distance, all mixed together.
"We will sit on your chairs, and they will have nothing, and we will have us."
He holds Daniel closecloseclose, because he's never learned how to let go of the things he cares about, has always clung to things with his teeth and desire bared, and he has no intention of starting now. He has no intention of starting ever.
Even if this is not the way he wanted things to happen, he doesn't believe in letting go, especially when it comes to Daniel.
He swallows, clears his throat to try and dislodge the tight knot of feelings there, raises a hand to swipe his thumb along Daniel's wet jaw.
"We will have chickens, and a garage full of dirt bikes, and I will ask Grace to teach me how to make the pasta sauce you spilled all over the carpet when you were five."
Daniel nods against his chest, fingers relaxing. His breathing is still uneven, Max's t-shirt is still damp, but he can feel him going lax against him, relaxing bit by bit.
"We will," Daniel murmurs, voice shaky enough it sounds closer to a question.
"We will," Max tells him, firm. Would be happy to tell him again and again, until Daniel's voice doesn't shake on it anymore. "We will eat so much food, and we will become fat, and we will be happy. We will."
Daniel nods again, then shifts, wiggling in Max's hold until he can properly climb on top of him, pointy elbows planted on the bed, above Max's shoulders, trembling fingers tracing the wet lines on his cheeks, red-rimmed eyes soft.
When Daniel kisses him, they both taste like salt, exhaustion and the future.
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Yknow what’s missing? Hampton AU. May I kindly request a continuation of this one?
Thena stood by the vegetable beds, trying to seem like she wasn't waiting deliberately. She was just here - casually - enjoying the morning sun. It would be strange for her to wait in the garden in hopes of running into Gil while he was collecting the day's ingredients.
She was his employer, she couldn't risk doing anything unseemly or inappropriate. He was the best private chef she had ever managed to procure, and arguably the only one whose company she had ever tolerate. She had even come to enjoy it.
Ever since he had kept her company during her dreadful dinner party she had come to crave his presence more. She had been thus far restraining herself from being too conversational with him, out of fear of seeming untoward. But perhaps having a friendly relationship with her chef wouldn't be so uncouth--they could be friends.
Friends were not her forte. Even through her life in various boarding schools, she wasn't particularly socially minded. How could she have been, after growing up in this massive estate with only Karun to mind her?
Thena checked her phone again, toying with some of the stray hairs slipping from her ponytail. Nothing like 'casually' waiting for someone and checking the time. Kingo would laugh himself into hysterics if he could see her.
He hadn't been at the party, but she did mention that she had managed to avoid most everyone from the worst families to know. He didn't yet know that she had done so by hiding in the basement with Gil, enjoying crudites with his hoodie over her shoulders.
"Thena?"
She spun around, slipping her phone into her leggings pocket. "Gil, morning, how are you?"
That was a lot to pack into one greeting.
He smiled, though, as he always did. He walked up to her, basket in hand, although he wasn't changed into his pristine white chef's jacket yet. "Good, good, getting everything ready for today. I have the weekend menu all planned."
"Oh?" she prompted, hopefully in a way that wouldn't betray her lack of natural conversational skills.
"Well, I know it's not often you have a weekend totally off," he shrugged one shoulder, somewhat inviting her along as he walked up the garden beds and towards the herbs. "I bought some fresh Atlantic salmon, I've got lemons from the greenhouse, I'm gonna pair it with some really nice fennel pasta--you'll love it!"
It already sounded divine, and the way he so passionately described every dish he made always had her entranced. She had never had even close to the passion Gil had for food for anything in her spoiled little life.
"I'm sure I will," she sufficed to say, rather than gush about how she already couldn't stand waiting. She strolled alongside him, watching him eye the tomatoes. "You have yet to make something displeasing, I hope you know."
"Well, maybe I thought you were just too nice to say," he replied in a playful tone. He leaned against the brick edge, reaching for the deepest in colour.
Thena averted her eyes from the muscles in his back. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid.
"Do you have this morning off too?" he asked, leaning back with his reward and placing them in the basket ever so gently.
No, she had two different meetings she had requested to move, just for this little charade. Not that Karun knew that specifically. But she knew that Gil would be out here longer than usual to collect ingredients for the weekend. This was the perfect time.
She smiled, "serendipitous, isn't it?"
"Lucky me," he grinned and even gave her a wink.
The man was trying to kill her.
She sighed as he reached for some mint in the next section. "Are you certain you want to stay all weekend? Your room is ready, of course, but I can also have you driven home."
"Ah, I don't mind, I have some recipes I've kinda been wanting to try out, and the kitchen here has a lot more room for me to experiment with."
She was happy to let him experiment. Sometimes he discovered the most wonderful things while he was doing so. "Is that so?"
He looked back at her mid-lean, "do you like lavender?"
She restrained herself from making a face. "I admit I have only had it a number of times, at teas and such. I would not want to say I dislike it as a whole if I've only had poorly made creations of it."
"Ah," he nodded, reaching for some anyway. "Well, we can start with some subtle stuff and go from there."
She laughed faintly as he swatted at a bug buzzing around him before arranging his basket again. "I will look forward to it, then."
His eyes met hers, and she wondered for a moment if he could tell that she had waited all morning just to exchange these precious few words with him. Her hands fidgeted behind her back, "Gil, I-"
"Ah!" he hissed, slapping his neck and flinching sideways. He wiped his hand away, shaking it. "Shit, I thought it was a big fly."
"Are you hurt?" she asked, halfway between leaning closer into his space and not wanting to risk seeming even more desperate. Her hands hovered as he rubbed his neck more.
"I'm fine, just kinda stung," he grumbled before wiping his hands off, metaphorically ridding himself of the nuisance. "Let's get inside."
"Let's," she murmured quietly, eyeing him as his hand lifted faintly. It might have grazed the small of her back but it never landed. "Gil?"
"Yeah?"
She frowned, watching as the veins in his neck became more prominent. The healthy colour of his skin became overtaken by a more aggressive red. "You don't seem well, are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I-" he paused, clearing his throat once, and then more aggressively. He tugged at the neck of his t-shirt. "Throat kinda-"
He broke into a coughing fit. It only made the colour in his face worsen, caught between flushing and going pale.
"Gil," Thena repeated, but he swerved. She did her best to catch him, but she underestimated how heavy all those muscles were. "Gil!"
He gasped for air, his hand on his throat in a vain attempt to solve the problem. His other hand floated out for help.
"I'm here, I'm here, it's okay!" she did her best to assure him, holding the floating hand tightly between her own. He was a puddle in her lap, trying to breathe. "Karun!"
It took him only a few seconds, but she feared that was more than Gil had. "Madame!"
"Get the first aid kit! I think it's anaphylaxis!" Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked down at Gil amidst his agony. He was staring at her, asking for help she couldn't provide. "I'm sorry Gil, sh, it's okay, you're going to be fine."
Gil looked at her like his life was flashing before his eyes.
She bent over him, squeezing his hand. "Please!"
"Madame, I have it!" Karun declared, running with the epipen in his hand.
She snatched it from his hand, removing the cap and jabbing it into Gil's leg, against the denim of his jeans. "Please work."
The sound of him gasping was like nothing she could have imagined. It was certainly not something she wanted to experience ever again. He coughed some more, even as she propped him more upright, but he was breathing again. The swelling around his throat went down quickly and visibly.
"Gil?" she sniffed, trying not to be the one crying when he had nearly died in her arms. It took the length of her arm to hold his shoulders up, and even then she couldn't quite embrace him the way he probably needed.
After a few more pants of breath he blinked, "holy shit."
Karun, already calling the ambulance, patted Gil's knee, "very good, sir. Fine pulling through."
Gil gave a dazed thumbs up to Karun, looking up at the sky. His limbs moved like they were too heavy to control, but he managed to turn his head to look at her. "Thena?"
"Hey," she smiled, blinking her tears into her eyelashes as she focused on his face. "Can you breathe?"
He tested it, taking a deep breath, consciously expanding his chest and back as he did. "Y-Yeah, I can, now. Thanks to you, I guess."
"Well," she managed a faint smile, "Karun brought the thing."
"I, uh," Gil blinked at the orange epipen responsible for saving his life. "I didn't know I was allergic."
"Nor did I," she frowned. Because, had she known, she never would have allowed him out in the gardens at all. Or at least not without medical supervision. "We will have to see to it that you get one of these to have with you at all times."
Gil didn't exactly argue. He remained in her hold, both of them only half listening to Karun recite the situation and their location to the medical authorities.
He turned back to them with a crisp nod. "They are on their way, sir. Were you still anaphylactic I would have called for a chopper, but I believe you will be well enough to wait for them to arrive."
"Yeah, no worries, dude."
Thena smiled against Gil's hair. They had a funny relationship, but it charmed her to no end that they got along so well. "We'll be right here."
He made a small sound at that, letting her bury her nose in his hair (propriety as his employer be damned). He mumbled something.
"What was that?" she whispered, brushing her hand over his cheek (forgetting herself completely).
"The tomatoes," he repeated a little more strongly. "They didn't break, did they?"
Thena laughed, although her tears came again as well. "Gil!"
"I need those," he attempted to sit up more within her embrace against her knees. But she tugged him back again. "They're for the shakshuka for breakfast tomorrow!"
"Leave them," she soothed, rubbing his arm and patting his chest. "There will be more tomatoes."
He sighed more heavily, at least sounding more like himself. "At least put them to the side. Don't let the ambulance guys break 'em--they're perfect!"
"I will take care of the produce, sir," Karun assured him, indeed picking up their dropped bounty carefully. "You must focus on resting. I'm sure the Madame will make sure you are well situated."
She glared at Karun, positively flushed at the implicating tone in his voice.
"Cool," Gil gave him another thumbs up as Karun scurried to the house and out of their way. He looked at her, as she held him the way a knight might hold a maiden. "Sorry to ruin your morning."
She laughed again, although maybe later she would admonish him for giving her the fright of her life. "You're breathing; I'll call it a very lucky morning."
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