(no subject)

[silverhammer]

It's bullshit, basically.

When he'd moved to New York with Jude, it'd taken him less than a week to get a job as a cabbie. He's been to five places now, since he actually started looking for work again, and has come up with absolutely nothing.

We regret to inform you...

We appreciate you thinking of us, but unfortunately...

Max is starting to wonder whether or not he should go back to Little Yellow Cab, groveling back to his old boss. Maybe he made some mistakes, and maybe he totaled a cab because of his Army uniform showing up out of fucking nowhere, but at the end of the day, he thinks he was a decent cabbie. He brought in a lot of money.

But that guy was kind of a dick, and Max isn't sure he wants to give him the satisfaction.

Headed home from yet another failed job interview, Max is loosening his tie, about to take the subway home, when he decides on a detour. He doesn't fucking know why he does it, but the next thing he knows, he finds himself outside of Brian's new apartment. It's both late enough and early enough that he thinks he'll catch Brian while he's in.

Max knocks on the door, really hoping he remembered the apartment number right.

Comments

[minimumbullshit]

After months of searching, he'd finally settled on an uptown apartment. Sleek and modern, with living space and two bedrooms on the main floor, and a loft bedroom suite upstairs. He was paying out the ass for it, but it gave him enough room for the kid and the nearly 24/7 nanny, without having to give up his privacy completely.

He'd stayed in the night before, and surprisingly, the night before that, and after work, he'd sent the nanny home for a few hours-- She'd agreed that he could call later, if he decided to, "go out and do whatever it is you do."

Standing in the dining room over a spread of ad proofs, he smoked a cigarette near an open window, while Gus sat in his Jumperoo in the living room, babbling to himself. At the knock, Brian arched a brow, crushing out the cigarette and wandering shirtless toward the door to check through the peephole.

Opening the door a crack, he leaned against the frame, looking Max over from head to toe and drawling, "Can I help you?"

[silverhammer]

"Yeah, does my prick of a friend live here?" Max asks, because if Brian's going to be a dick and not just open the door and let him in, he's going to call him out on it. But on second thought, anything else would have been out of the ordinary and he would have wondered if he'd been replaced by a non-evil twin or something.

[minimumbullshit]

"As far as I know, it's just me and the little bald guy in diapers, who's a little shit, on a good day, but is it really fair to call a baby a prick?" Brian wondered, as if they were actually having a serious conversation. Taking a step back, he held open the door and gestured Max inside.

"Wait 'til his personality shows itself, then we'll know for sure."

[silverhammer]

Max walks in when Brian finally opens the door, looking over at him with an amused expression.

"Counting on it skipping a generation, huh?" he asks, not willing to give up the tease, even though Brian's tried to turn it around on him.

[minimumbullshit]

"Maybe he'll take after his mother. People seem to like her well enough," he shrugged, sounding unconcerned.

"So," he drawled, settling his forearms casually atop Max's shoulders, a teasing smirk curling his lips, "To what do I owe this unwanted interruption of my very busy afternoon?"

[silverhammer]

"Job hunt dissatisfaction," he replies, matter-of-factly, though it doesn't completely explain why he came to Brian's instead of just going home, "Why the hell else to you think I'm in a tie?"

He didn't even own one in Darrow before he found himself unemployed, and so far, the only mileage it's gotten has been on a series of failed interviews. Or days when he should have gone to an interview but decided against it.

[minimumbullshit]

Wordlessly, Brian arched a brow, because they both knew that didn't explain what Max was doing at his apartment. Instead of saying anything, he let his hand drop to the knot of Max's tie, fingers grazing Max's throat before he slid his grip along the length of the tie, tugging gently.

"It's not a bad look," he smirked, "Too bad you haven't interviewed with anyone who wanted to fuck you, you'd have been hired on the spot."

[silverhammer]

Max glances down at Brian's hand on his tie for a long moment before looking up at Brian again. "Yeah, too bad your place doesn't have any openings," he replies.

So maybe he doesn't really know why he ended up at Brian's place, but he's not regretting it, just now.

[minimumbullshit]

"No, I'm smart enough not to fuck my subordinates."

He hadn't always been, but he'd learned that lesson. Luckily, before it had cost him his job or a sizable portion of his savings.

Crowding Max backward toward the nearest wall, he tugged at the knot at the base of Max's throat, pulling it loose and unbuttoning the top button on Max's shirt.

"I'm sure you'd make a very capable personal assistant," he teased, reaching down between them, his hand sliding along the inside of Max's thigh. "But I think I'd rather be able to keep doing this."

An easy shift of his wrist and his palm curved over the line of Max's cock.

[silverhammer]

Max had gotten hard around the time Brian started playing with his tie, running his hand down the length of it like it was no big deal. He pushes his hips forward, into the other man's palm as much as he's able to pressed against the wall like he is.

"Any chance you can take a break from your very busy afternoon?" he asks, attempting to suppress a pleased groan mid-sentence.

[minimumbullshit]

"Well, that," he said, leaning in close, his lips grazing the line of Max's jaw before he took him by the chin and turned his face toward the living room, "Is in the hands of that little creep watching us from over there."

In his Jumperoo, Gus grinned happily, bouncing on his toes and blowing oblivious spit bubbles.

Nipping at the lobe of Max's ear, Brian gave his cock one last squeeze before stepping away.

"I think it's nap time. What do ya say, Sonny Boy?" Brian said, padding across the apartment to life his kid out of the little plastic bouncy seat.

[silverhammer]

In the moment, Max had completely forgotten about Gus just across the room. He peels himself off of the wall when Brian pulls away, running one hand through his hair as he exhales. He still needs to get that haircut, one of these days. Shit, maybe that's where he's been going wrong with this whole job thing.

"Nanny with the afternoon off? Talk about bad fucking timing," he says, though he's trying to pull himself together, yanking off his tie all the way to stuff it in his pocket.

[minimumbullshit]

"I needed the night off from that woman."

She was great at her job, but there was only so much overbearing, middle-aged spinster he could take, her nitpicking and criticism and disapproval, before he started to take the bait. And while it was better than the last situation, sometimes she reminded him too much of his own goddamn mother, and he'd spent a lifetime trying to get away from her.

Carrying Gus into the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle from the fridge, because there was very little chance that the kid was gonna sleep without eating something first. With the kid perched on one hip, he brushed past Max along the way toward the nursery.

The kid was undoubtedly putting a cramp in his style, but he'd never apologized for anything. He wasn't going to start now.

[silverhammer]

Max trails behind him at a slower pace, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He'd gotten distracted when he first came in, and hadn't really gotten a good look at the place. It's bigger than Brian's last, what with having two floors to it. And this one actually seems like an apartment that normal people live in.

Not that Max hadn't liked the other place or anything; he'd spent a decent number of nights there.

"Guess it's the trade-off," Max says as he heads down the hall, eventually stopping to lean against the doorframe of the nursery, "You hire an old bat who gets the job done, or someone you'll probably end up fucking." He shrugs.

[minimumbullshit]

"She reminds me of my fucking mother," he admitted, sinking down into the rocking chair next to Gus' crib so the kid could eat. With the baby propped against his chest and the rocker moving gently, Brian let his eyes drift shut.

He didn't talk a lot about his parents. In fact, he thought about them as little as possible.

[silverhammer]

Max has his own issues with his parents. Or, he did before he dropped out of college and moved to New York with Jude, so Brian's tone is a pretty familiar one.

"And you sound thrilled about that," Max replies, and he's lowered his voice without realizing it. There's something about babies that just make you do those kinds of things. He remembers when his youngest sister was that little, having to practically tiptoe around the house.

[minimumbullshit]

"My father was an abusive drunk, my mother was a frigid bitch: The age-old lament of modern, queer youth," Brian said dismissively, a faint hint of a laugh bubbling up from his chest.

"The last time I saw my mother was at my father's wake. We weren't exactly the Cleavers."

A pop culture reference Max would actually pick up on! Brian's lips twitched with amusement.

In his arms, Gus squirmed, the bottle nipple falling from his slack lips. Brian put it aside, shifting the kid up onto his shoulder and pushing to his feet. Warm and sleepy, Gus went down easily, Brian's fingers slipping through the dusting of dark hair on his head, brushing over one soft cheek before he pulled away.

[silverhammer]

Not expecting the reference, Max's eyebrows lift for a moment in recognition.

"Yeah, well if you ask me, June was always kind of a bitch too," Max replies, and he frowns after considering what Brian's said, shifting against the doorframe. He and Brian don't really talk about this stuff, and it pops up in the conversation so naturally that he doesn't really know how to react to it. Compared to that, his life was the goddamn Cleavers.

At least up until Thanksgiving with Jude.

[minimumbullshit]

"You know, now that I think about it, I can't say I've ever actually watched an episode," Brian admitted, leaning over to make sure the baby monitor was turned on and slipping the receiver into the pocket of his jeans.

"She was Catholic. My mother. Very Catholic," Brian said, seemingly unconcerned to be revealing these little details about himself. Anyone who knew Brian, really knew him, could figure out that they were wounds, lifelong and deep, that he only shrugged off because it was easier. "As you can imagine, we didn't see eye to eye."

Stepping toward the door, he caught Max by the front of the shirt and herded him bodily into the hall.

[silverhammer]

"I can see how there might be a difference of opinion, yeah," Max replies, and he follows when Brian grabs his shirt to pull him into the hallway. That was his plan either way, regardless of whether or not he ended up being dragged. The alternative was hanging around to watch Gus sleep, and while Brian's kid is cute, Max can think of about a hundred better ways to spend his afternoon.

"Though, I don't know... I always got the impression Catholic priests were hiding something anyway."

[minimumbullshit]

"Pedophiles. You're thinking of pedophiles," Brian said flatly, even as he reaching between them and deftly unhooked Max's belt.

He realized, belatedly, that he'd been talking about his mother in the past tense, like she was already gone, already dead, but it was really just that he wished it were true. But no matter how much he hated her, he'd never been able to shed himself of his family entirely. There was always a part of him that still wanted her fucking approval, no matter how loudly he insisted otherwise.

With his grip still on Max's belt, Brian turned toward the stairs and led them both up toward the bedroom.

[silverhammer]

Max hadn't noticed that Brian spoke about his Mom in the past tense, maybe because he thought of everyone back home the same way. His parents, Pru, Sadie, Jojo... he's not really counting on seeing any of them, maybe ever again if Darrow has anything to say about it. Max knows that he's lucky to have Jude and Luce in the city with him, and he's not really counting on anyone else from home just popping up for a visit.

"No, I don't think that's it," he says, trailing behind Brian as he's led up the stairs, "but either way, I don't think those guys are on the up and up."

[minimumbullshit]

Huffing out a laugh, he said, "That's starting to sound like an endorsement."

At the top of the steps, Brian turned to face him, tugging Max's belt free with a faint hiss of fabric and leather and letting it fall to the floor.

"Maybe I should've considered joining."

[silverhammer]

"Hey, you get free wine for showing up sometimes, so it's got that going for it," Max says, tone light, and he doesn't glance down to watch his belt hit the floor, instead dropping his own hands to the button of Brian's pants.

His own family, despite all of their Cleaverness hadn't ever been too much of a church family. At least, not in the Same way Brian talks about his mom.

[minimumbullshit]

"If that's the top incentive, I think I'll pass," Brian said, pulling open the waistband of Max's dress pants and making quick work of pushing them down to pool around Max's ankles. His underwear weren't far behind, and then framing Max's narrow hips in both hands, Brian steered him toward the bed.

It wasn't the raised altar that his bed had been back in Pittsburgh, but it was huge and somehow both spartan and luxurious. The pillows, comforter and sheets were all the same neutral, dark grey, but were made from an insanely high thread count and a plush, down/synthetic blend. He spent enough time in the thing, it was definitely worth the investment, and he sure as hell hadn't had any complaints.

[silverhammer]

"We working under a deadline here?" Max asks, mostly because of the quick work Brian makes of both his pants and his underwear, and he steps out of both as he backs toward the bed. It's half a joke, half an honest question because the nanny's got the night off and Brian's kid isn't going to sleep forever.

Not that they've ever particularly been about taking their time.

[minimumbullshit]

"I've got a seven-month-old. Everything's a deadline," Brian smirked, slipping the monitor out of his pocket and putting it on the bedside table.

"I'm giving it an hour."

The nanny had Gus on a schedule almost like clockwork, and usually, the kid set off like an alarm clock. But kids were unpredictable, and Brian wasn't going to push his luck.

[silverhammer]

"A lot you can do in an hour," Max says, and he's undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt to shrug out of it as Brian sets the monitor on the nightstand. It's not but a second after that before he's back to Brian's pants, his fingers sliding under the waistband to tug them down.

Not that he was planning on doing much else with his afternoon, and if there's only about an hour to make up for the shitty morning he's had, he can't see the point in wasting time.