silverhammer | (no subject)

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.

Threaded | Flat

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?"