#this fic also brought to you by call your mom by noah kahan

[fiveredlights]

It’s a fucking awful sunrise the next morning.

They couldn’t check the weather, Michelle had paid off Issac and Izzy to steal it from them the second they walked into the house, so they half heartedly argued for a bit what was considered sunrise time—5:45 am apparently—and that was that. The alarm clock woke them up, and left the house bundled in warm clothes for an uncharacteristically cold spring morning.

Grace had offered Matilda Bay as their spot. A stretch of grass that sits opposite the Perth skyline, the river in between. There are tall gumtrees littered along the shoreline, and Max steers them to one furthest away from the public eye.

It’s just them here. Bark, digging into the skin of his back. The damp dirt, where he sits. Daniel, the heavy, solid, unmoving weight in his hand.

“This is a really shit sunrise,” Daniel mumbles into his shoulder. He’s curled away, in between Max’s legs where they make a V-shape. Daniel’s knees dig into his right thigh, and has tucked his head into the crook between Max’s neck and shoulder.

He’s not even sure he could call it a sunrise. It’s overcast, the grey clouds are spread out as far as the eye can see. There is sun, but it shines from behind the clouds. The light from it slowly rises with time, but it’s barely noticeable.

Max hums quietly in response, tracing stars above his hip. “I think there’s going to be a couple of bad sunrises,” he says softly. “But there will be good ones again. Maybe not right now, or next week. But there will be good ones again.”

“We should come back here.” Daniel pushes himself up and shuffles until all Max is seeing is Daniel.

It’s always been Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.

“We should come back here,” he repeats, snaking his hand up to the base of Max’s neck, threading Max’s hair through his fingering ers. “When the sunrises are good again.”

Max leans forward and kisses his curls. Kisses his forehead. Kisses the corner of his eyes. Kisses the hook of his nose. Kisses his lips. Kisses everywhere he can, hopes that each one will resemble any semblance of peace Daniel so desperately deserves.

“It’ll be good,” Max whispers in between their lips as they pull back slowly. “It’ll be good again.”