Disbelief
Vince wasn't sure what to do with himself.
He hadn't felt this weird in his own skin since before he hit a growth spurt, back when he was 13. It was like a hundred little ants were crawling around his body, face tingling and hands sweaty, eyes unable to drift away from Max for long.
He had done some heavy wishing, prayed even, that the wet dream about the blonde had been nothing but his overacting subconscious, a mix of his daily thoughts and the sexual frustration of not getting laid in a while.
However, the second he heard Max's voice across the line, when he had called him almost a week ago about the job offer, Vince knew he was fucked. The butterflies flapping their wings in his stomach hadn't done that since him and Wendy had been dancing around each other and he had been coming to the realization that he didn't dislike Wen, in fact he liked her a little more than he should, nearly three years before.
"Oh Max is coming over Friday?" Wendy had asked when Vince had told her later that day, while he struggled to sound nonchalant about it, cuddled up in couch as they watched Outlander.
"Job interview," Vince, sat behind her, had pressed his lips to Wen's naked shoulder, muffling his words on her skin and trying to ignore the way his heart was thumping as if he was lying and doing something wrong, "a position opened at my school..."
"Oh shit, that's huge, honey," Wendy had tilted her body back, so she could peer at his face, eyes wide, "you're suggesting Max moves here?!"
Vince's cheeks had turned crimson and he had shrugged, training his eyes to the TV, "I guess... I don't like the thought of him all alone in Doveport."
He had seen her from the corner of his eye, opening and closing her mouth as if she had wanted to say something but ultimately opted not to. Wendy frowned, then let out a sigh and slumped against him once more, "I don't either. I'll get us some wine to celebrate, since he'll definitely get it."
His heart had squeezed in his chest, a lump in his throat as Vince thought this was just something else he loved about Wendy. Her unwavering faith in all of them, optimism that wasn't idealistic or naïve, but a strong willed choice in face of obstacles.
"C'mere," Vince had whispered, wrapping his arms around her middle and sliding down on the couch, so Wen had been draped fully over him, "cuddle me."
Now, looking at Max's sweaty, sickly face, Vince felt with lurching clarity that those feelings had been no passing notion. All that he had avoided since the dream, little moments from their year together collaging into a bigger picture, and all the lies Vin had been telling himself, came to a halt as he cupped Max's face on the side of the road. Sharing a goofy smile, Max's chin in his hand, blonde hair falling over his honey colored eyes, recognition clear in his feverish gaze.
Vince wasn't daft. He might not be the most observant person, but he'd have to be blind and deaf in order not to know of Max's crush on him, even before the blonde had confessed to his feelings. Hell, not only with him, Vince had seen just how wistfully Max looked at Wendy too. Not jealousy, but yearning.
That wasn't new, what was new was that Vince realized he reciprocated those feelings and now what the fuck was he supposed to do with himself? All those speeches about cheating and a lifetime of promises he had told Wendy, suddenly Vin felt like it was all slipping through his fingers.
"Better, let's go," Max nodded, then his smile got mischievous despite the nausea clear on his face, "we can't leave our girl waiting."
Vince nodded back, smile etched on, even as his mind screamed at him. Instead of letting go of Max's face, he ran his thumb over his lips, wiping away the saliva glistening them, thoughts running circles and short circuiting as conflict overwhelmed him.
Our girl. Fuck.
He pulled back his hand as if it was burning, causing Max to nearly fall off the car and let out an offended whine, "dude, what the fuck!?"
"Sorry, sorry!" Vince chuckled, nervousness causing his voice to climb higher, as he closed the space between them once more, grabbing Max's arms and manhandling him back on the seat, "let's go," he slammed the door shut.
Vin wasn't even ashamed to admit just how glad he was that Max was far too sick and overwhelmed to really get a read on him. Max was one of those people who could smell insecurity. Perhaps it was a trait of all bullies to find the thing you had been praying no one noticed and then land a cutting remark on it, without even having to try.
"Ugh..." Max breathed out as Vince parked inside his building's garage, next to Wendy's car, since he had moved his motorcycle to free up the spot, "I feel gross."
"You don't look all that much better," Vince teased, feigning an ease he didn't feel, hands itching to touch the other man. He reached in, planting a hand to Max's sweat drenched back, feeling the heat radiating from him, "let's get you lying down, c'mon."
Max was boneless. Wobbly knees causing him to collapse into Vince's arms, a soft moan springing out as he buried his nose against Vin's jacket, "gon'puke on you..."
"Try not to," Vince sighed, pressing the 6th button, but not moving an inch away, instead wrapping an arm around Max's back to support him, "we're almost there."
A shiver went down his spine at Max's line, though, which was outlandish because illness had never turned him on before. Definitely not with his friends and family, not even with Wendy. With his girlfriend, being the sick one could be thrilling, landing him a comforting combo of intimacy and sensuality, but when she was the one sick, all Vin ever felt was worry... He had never been in the other side of the kink until now.
It felt like a betrayal to be feeling like this towards Max. A level of intimacy too deep, he might as well be french kissing the guy at this point.
"Vince?" Wendy's voice came from the bedroom as he pushed the door of their apartment open with his back, arms too busy keeping Max up, "Max? Are you guys home?" drifting closer, then she appeared out of the hallway, freshly showered, still toweling off her hair, "aww, I thought you'd take longer- Uh, Max?"
"Hi gorgeous," Max forced a strained smile at her, "I'm gonna puke on your cute rug."
Wendy's eyes widened, blinking owlishly, darting to Vince in search of an explanation, only for him to look away from her because apparently Max hadn't been joking, since he braced against his knees and retched.
"Cazzo," Vince hissed, nearly pulling Max off his feet as he forced the man to stand up straight, "hold on hold on hold on-"
They tried to shuffle past Wendy — frozen on the spot, green eyes wide and mouth hanging open, towel forgotten on her hand — but Max's stomach had other plans and his feet refused to move, knees fully buckling. He wrapped an arm around his belly, heaving once more, loudly, and it snapped Wendy into action.
"Here, here-" she skipped closer, meeting them almost at the bathroom door, just in time to hold the towel she had been clutching right under Max's chin and catch a dribble of bile. Vince winced at the intensity of Max's heaves, using his free hand to push his blonde hair back, the other arm wrapped around his back and keeping him from going fully down.
"Oh sweetheart," Wendy cooed, studying Max's face, "so much for celebrating, uh?"
"M'sorry," Max slurred, belching up a bigger mouthful of something chunky, "gross..."
"No, you're not," Wendy scolded him gently, then glanced up to meet Vin's eyes, cheeks turning pink, "uh- Bathroom?"
"Bathroom," he agreed, feeling a weird flutter in his stomach that he couldn't quite pinpoint. A cross between amusement and jealousy and just confusion. He could tell that Wen's careful doctor persona was fully shattered, excitement barely concealed in her eyes.
All three of them stumbled forward, a clumsy job as Max continued to gag and Wendy's hands were both busy holding the towel and containing the mess, Vince the only thing keeping Max up and walking.
"Oh'thank'gd-" Max groaned as the toilet came in his line of sight, mustering up the rest of his energy just so he could brace against it, arms wrapping around the porcelain.
Wendy stumbled back just in time to avoid him jerking forward, dropping the ruined towel inside of the bathtub and all but falling to her ass as she did that all in one motion, "Ow?!"
"Sor-ERUhgjek-" Max tried, and failed, to apologize, back arching as he retched more violently than before and projectile vomited in the bowl, face turning pink with effort. He panted, a line of spit hanging from his bottom lip and Wendy shuffled closer, cupping his forehead with a hand, helping him support it.
"You're okay, honey, get it up," she cooed, free hand rubbing Max's back and Vince felt something weird curl in his own stomach. His mouth tasted bitter, he didn't know what to do with himself. Honey.
Wendy raised her eyes to look at him, over Max's head, "he's burning up..."
"I know," Vince snapped out of the jealousy induced dissociation, crouching down next to the pair, "I don't think he can keep anything down though..."
"Help me strip him," Wendy bossed, just as Max let out a noncommittal grunt, probably just trying to remind them that he was right there, even if he was a boneless mess.
Max was sick and Vince felt like a creep as he stripped him down, fingers making quick work of his button up. His mind kept driving stupid comparison's, how platonic and mechanically he could strip his friends down and how horribly intimate it felt with Max. How much of not a friendship this was.
The blonde didn't have a wifebeater under his button up — of course, why would he? — and Vince forced his eyes away from his sweaty chest, the tattoo wrapping around his bicep and coming all the way down to Max's wrist, the way his normally flat stomach was pressing painfully against his social pants, belt squeezing him.
Wendy undid his belt, then Max's fly, pushing the pants down his thighs so Vince could pull them out completely and leave the other man in just his boxers. It shouldn't be hot, not when Max was not aware at all of what was happening, and Vin's ears burned with shame, pointedly avoiding Wen's eyes as just the way she undid Max's belt buckle was enough to make his mind race.
"Vin?"
"Is he-" His throat was dry and Vince shook his head, starting a senseless phrase just to buy himself time, "is he gonna be okay?"
Of course he would, it was just the flu. Vince was the one who was not okay, not remotely so.
"Of course," Wendy smiled at him, then gestured to the hand towel, "run that under the water for me?" she lowered her voice, now speaking to the man between them, "Max, honey, are you with us?"
A grunt answered her, Vince wet the hand towel then splashed some cold water on his face too, to regain his focus. Max was sick, Wendy was just doctoring him, what she always did to any of their friends. He needed to get his shit together.
"Ookay," Wendy snatched the humid towel out of Vince's loose grip, sparring him an exasperated glare for taking too long, before wiping it across Max's face, cleaning up his mouth and chin and pressing it to his brow, "are you done?"
"Wheressssin?"
"Vin is right here," Wendy stroked Max's cheek, "how's your stomach, Max?"
"Fan-fucking-tastic," Max sounded slightly more aware as he pushed away from the toilet, putting a little too much force in his impulse and nearly falling back, wasn't it for Vince cushioning the back of his head before he could hit the wall, "oh hi..."
"Hi," Vince rolled his eyes, catching Wendy snickering at them, "you're boiling, think you can take a cool shower?"
"Gon' join me?" Max said, but what really took Vince out wasn't the flirty jab, but the fact that Max glanced between him and Wendy to imply he meant either one of them could join him and Wendy's face turned that delicious pink shade that Vin had thought was exclusive to him up until this moment.
So they were all messed up, uh?
"You're ridiculous, Daniels," Wendy scolded, although she was grinning, "let's get him in bed, he can shower later."
"He's right here," Max scoffed, head lazily lolling so he could press his cheek to the inside of Vin's wrist, since he still had a hand on the back of Max's head.
"Vince?" Wendy frowned at him, snapping Vin back into his senses, "are you okay? You're looking kinda green too, hon..."
Max's brows met, feverish eyes scanning Vince's face, trying to make sense of the situation, "you're sick too...?"
"Nope," Vince shook his head, looping his arm around Max's back and pulling them both up, "c'mo-OW!" He let out a shout as the blonde's knees tricked them, holding steady for one second only to collapse next.
Max let out a groan, whole face pinching with pain and Vince promptly pushed his swirling thoughts away. Max was sick, actually properly sick, burning up and he had just puked up his guts. He needed to be in bed.
The blonde was too dizzy — vertigo assaulting him at the quick change of positions — to make sense of Vin wrapping his arms around his neck and lifting him bridal style.
He wasn't as heavy as Lucas was, but nowhere near as light as Wen was and Vin let out a huff, jostling Max in order to fix his hands and causing him to let out a nauseated burp.
"What-what are you....?"
"Wen?" Vin's voice was strained, but Wendy understood without him needing to finish the sentence, ducking under his arm and rushing ahead of them, in order to open the bathroom door all the way, the bedroom door and pull back the covers in the bed.
Max sunk into the pillows with a moan, rolling onto his side and wrapping an arm around his tender stomach. Wendy promptly took a spot next to him, sitting in the small space created by him curling up, and brushing his hair back.
He forced his eyes open, searching Wendy's face and opening a tired smile at her, "got the job, beautiful."
"Of course you did," Wendy rolled her eyes, leaning in with a smile as if they were sharing an inside joke, "too bad you're too sick for us to celebrate."
"Eh, I could have a glass of champagne or two, I was gonna end up puking anyway," Max joked, voice raspy, although his eyes fluttered shut. Vince snorted at the joke, crossing his arms to his chest and leaning against Wen's dressing table, quietly chewing on the facts.
Max harbored feelings for both him and Wendy, that was obvious. Wendy reciprocated, maybe, probably...? And Vince himself... Hell, he certainly couldn't say he didn't reciprocate, but were they mutual? He wasn't sure.
"Hey," Wendy whispered and Vince's head snapped. Max was soundly asleep, breathing through his mouth and snoring softly. Muscles all relaxed and skin glistening with sweat. Wendy raised a quizzical eyebrow at his startle, "let him rest for a bit."
He nodded, eyes still lingering on Max... Max, lying on Vin's side of the bed. An arm curled under his pillow, not looking one bit out of place. Vince followed Wendy out of the room and she headed first to the guest bathroom, sorting through the mess, passing Max's ditched clothes to Vin's arms.
Vince made tea, while Wendy put the clothes in the washing machine, and then hugged him by the middle as Vin leaned against the kitchen sink, staring at the ground.
She didn't say anything, which was unnerving, because Vince knew that was just her tactic to make him spill out the beans and the worst part was that it always worked, "he got the job."
"I know," Wendy shifted, pressed her cheek to his chest, "are you surprised?"
"No," Vince lowered his hand to her back, hugging her back, "...He's gonna move here."
No answer. She was gonna make him spell it out, dammit.
"I don't know what we're-" Vince cringed, bit his tongue, "I don't know what I'm doing, Wendy-" Shit.shit.Shit.Shit.SHit- This was as much of a confession as his brain would allow and it turned his stomach. If Wendy accused him of emotional cheating, she wouldn't be wrong. He felt sick, trying to gulp down the knot in his throat.
"Fuck me if I know either, Vin," Wendy huffed, pulling back so she could look him in the eyes and Vince hesitated, part relief, part conflict. Had she understood what he meant? That he wasn't sure what to do with himself because of those fucking feelings...?
"I meant-"
"I know what you meant," Wen pressed her cheek back to his chest, leaning into his arms, "I know."
"I'm so sorry, honey," Vince said hastily, "I don't know- Nothing ever happened- Nothing will happen, I swear. Nothing, I'm not-"
"Vince," Wendy cut him off, "stop."
He snapped his mouth shut, held his breath as he waited for her to speak again. Down the hallway, Max was sleeping the flu away, blissfully unaware of Vince losing his mind over him and the nuclear discussion this actually was, even if they were calm and whispering.
"I don't know what we're doing either," Wen sighed, shrugging, fiddling with the neckline of his sweater, "I wish I could tell you, Vin, but I'm just as lost..."
"I'm asking Max to uproot his entire life and I'm just so confused... I'm an asshole."
Wendy wrinkled her nose at him, rolling her eyes, "make that both of us then, because I don't want him in Doveport either. I want him here..." she cut herself short, clearly wanting to say more and Vince could almost pick out the words in the air.
There was a noise down the hall, shattering the tension, and Wendy blinked several times, running a hand over her still humid hair, "fuck- You got him? I- I'll go in a second..."
"Yeah, I got him," Vince nodded, pressing a kiss to Wendy's temple and wincing at the distraught look on her face.
Max wasn't in the bed anymore.
Vince's racing thoughts came to a halt at the empty mattress, concern overwhelming everything else, "Max? Max, what-" the bathroom was empty too, much to his chagrin, "fuck... Max, where are you-"
There was a soft hiccup from inside the closet and Vince scrambled two steps back, so he could burst in the tiny room that housed Wendy's hundreds of shoes. Max was down on the ground, seeming confused, clutching the trashcan to his chest, and he raised his head when Vin pushed the door open.
"What the fuck are you doing in the closet...?"
"Thought-" Max's chest jostled with a hiccup and he spat in the trashcan, wincing, "bathroom..."
"Awn, man," Vince sighed, crouching down, "you're still super nauseous?"
A curt nod answered him, Max panting over the bin, "woke up- URergh-'alone..." he thumped his chest, forcing up a wet, frothy burp, "where's- Fuck, my head hurts- Where's Wen?"
"Finishing up in the kitchen," Vince lied, crawling closer so he could wrap an arm around Max's back, "let's get you back in bed..."
"Wa-URuuk-Wait," Max belched up another mouthful of his late lunch, breathing heavily, "hold on... Dizzy," his head leaned back, lolling against Vin's shoulder, "jus'gimme a minute..."
"Okay," Vince squeezed his arm around him, "that's fine, take your time, baby..." then before he could think, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Max's sweaty brow, much like he had just done to Wen back in the kitchen.
The other man's breath hitched, a little huff shaking him, "baby, uh?"
Vince's face burned and he frowned, glaring daggers at the shoe rack in front of him, "I didn't say that."
"Uh-hu," Max scoffed, "right... Vin?"
"Yeah?" Vince sighed, still pouting, "what is it?"
"I'm moving here," Max sounded astonished, as if it was still news to him, "can you believe I got the job?"
Vince wasn't faking the smile that split his frown down in the middle, walls all but melting at Max's earnest vulnerability. Of course he could believe it, he was going to see Max every day at school, the best of both worlds, Wendy and Max. It made a lump form in his throat, emotions he couldn't name.
"I never doubted you would even for a second," Vince promised, then pressed another kiss to the top of Max's head, "c'mon, let's get your ass back in bed."
