2/1

[silverhammer]

Max can't find his fucking phone.

After a while, after he's finally remembered and checked the pockets of his slacks and his coat, he realizes he probably dropped it. But he's sure as shit not going back near that bookstore to look for it. He's still on edge, even though he knows whatever happened down on that part of Park Avenue probably wasn't as big a deal as he thought it was.

He needs to head home though, needs to make sure he was just seeing things and it wasn't Pru there, as crazy as that is in the first place.

Somehow, though, he ends up at Brian's instead. He doesn't always call ahead, but today, it's not exactly an option. He knocks, running one hand through his hair as he leans against the door frame and tries to calm the hell down again.

Comments

[minimumbullshit]

Brian wasn't home.

After their father-son outing, Brian had taken the kid with him to grab a late lunch-- or early dinner, depending on how you looked at it. They'd been all but assaulted by single women at the cafe, all cooing over the kid and batting their eyelashes at dear old Dad. Barking up the wrong fucking tree.

Now, as Brian stepped off the elevator on his floor, the kid was dozing in his stroller, head lolling as he tried to keep himself awake.

Rounding the corner, Brian arched a brow at the sight of Max leaning against his door. "Look, Sonny Boy. Somebody left us a stray. Should we keep it?"