Langfield making out in Vinh's office maybe? 👀 Someone walking in on them
technically didn't manage the whole thing, but I feel good about it.
(set after double exposure)
Vinh clicks his tongue, avoiding Max’s eyes.
“Haven’t seen you the last couple days.” Max says, which says something about him. It’s been weird, these merged timelines in his head. He remembers flirting with Max, but he also remembers not giving her much more than that. He was too focused on Abraxas, on redirecting Safi’s frustration to Lucas, on his own image.
But Safi had died, once, and he had grieved her. And so had Max. She took to his shoulder and she laughed at his jokes. He saw her, haunted and wonderful.
“You uh,” Vinh starts, because Max hasn’t stepped away. “Just so you know, I changed the code on my phone. I don’t… yeah.”
Max’s smile falters, and Vinh wonders why he brought it up. She had told them all, with Moses, about the parallel timelines. She was solving Safi’s murder. Though she seemed to skate by the exact details of how Safi had been shot, she was trying to find suspects, alibis, anything to confirm one way or another who was involved.
It still hurts to think she suspected him. But she also hadn’t known him.
“Sorry,” he says, and there’s that twitching at the front of his forehead. Moses had said it was to be expected, at least for a while, as they all sort through their memories. “I don’t know what I meant by that.”
“No, it’s okay.” Max isn’t tense, he doesn’t think. He stands up from his desk. Yasmin isn’t even in the office, still working through her recovery at the hospital. Right, he remembers again, Safi is still alive. Alive again. She never actually died, not this time. Not in this time.
He had meant to walk around Max to the couch, to put them on equal footing, but instead she’s moving in front of him and now her arms are around him and he’s frozen.
“I’m sorry,” Max says, and he’s not quite sure why she’s sorry. What had she done except help?
“Uh,” there’s the strangeness of her doing this to him, hugging him when they don’t really know each other. There’s the heart skipping in his chest side of him, however, that can’t believe they’re this close again.
He wraps his arms around her, and she’s pressed against him. Her head on his chest. He stares down at the yellow beanie at the top of her head. Thinks about placing a kiss there, but it’s a soft and tender move and they haven’t even been in bed together.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Max says, and he can hear her through his chest. “I just…”
She’s pulling away, and he can only loosen his hold and let her.
“I didn’t know… what you were feeling about, if you still…” she trails off.
Max was always confident with him before, it sort of swept him off his feet. She suggested drinks, she played it cool while he got drunk in his office, even sweetly called him baby while taking his picture at the bar.
He’s been used to her pushing them together. Vinh draws a hand to her face, and she’s cool to the touch. She blinks and he can feel her eyelash by his thumb.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you,” he says, because he needs her to stop him. “Just, rewind this now. Please.”
Max’s eyes are blue, and he leans down without thinking beyond that. She makes a quick hum, and her tongue drags along his lips.
“Couch?” he suggests, but instead Max is gently pushing the other direction, and he’s sinking into the chair most students or teachers take while waiting to speak with the president.
Max awkwardly stands above him. She lifts her leg, then stops. The chair is too tight for her to sit on his lap. She frowns. Vinh can’t complain when she lifts her leg, nudging his own apart and setting it right there on the cushion.
She leans forward, briefly, his lips brushing over his forehead. Then she’s tilting him up by his chin, fingers skating down his jaw.
Max Caulfied is a great kisser. It reminds him of… no. No, it doesn’t remind him of anyone. It’s her. It’s Max.
His hands move to her hips. He doesn’t know if it’s allowed, but he wants to push her coat open, to let himself trace her with less between them. He just holds instead.
Max pushes closer, her knee sliding forward and then Vinh feels himself twitch, hips jerking away in an attempt to escape only to hit the small space that was the back of his chair.
“It’s okay,” Max says, and it is. The whole campus was dealing, sorting out memories, he didn’t even need to be stationed at his desk right now. Hardly anyone in the building would be looking for him, whether as Vinh or as the administrator assistant. It was just… a place to anchor himself.
Her hands are holding him to her, and his eyes are closed for the most part. When he opens them, hers are open too. Her fingertips trace his ears. Her thumbs brush over his cheeks.
He likes this. He likes her. Shit, he likes her. He’s not used to this. He’s not used to—
“I’m trying not to run anymore,” Max says, her breath warm over him. “Please, try not to forget this.” She presses another kiss to him, and he just wants her to stay, please.
“Max?” he tries to follow her lips but she’s pulling away now, standing up and glancing around nervously. It’s then he hears the footsteps down the hall, the shuffling of other students as they walk just past his office.
“Ah, right," he says, taking a moment to collect himself before standing up. His legs feel like jelly.
Max is holding a hand out to him. When he spots it he freezes, and she’s smiling slightly. He reaches out, pauses, then starts to open his mouth—
“The catch is,” Max cuts him off, “You take my hand, we go for a walk.”
“Just a walk?” he asks, framing it as an easy joke, letting his mouth turn up into his famous smirk.
“Just a walk,” Max affirms, “Maybe I’ll be a little daring and add a polite hand squeeze at the end.”
He can’t help but chuckle. It was so easy for his heart to beat faster when he was with her.
“That is indeed a tempting offer,” Vinh says as he reaches forward, sliding his palm against hers. Her fingers thread into his. “Lead the way, Max.”
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