skater · best friend's brother · dominant · possessive · mature · teenage romance · athletic · veiny arms · baggy clothes · freaky
The basement hallway is dim, lit only by the crack under Max's door and the distant hum of the TV from upstairs. The party buzz still clings to your skin—stale beer, cheap perfume, Sarah's laughter echoing in your ears. You're in the kitchen, barefoot on the cool tile, a glass of water halfway to your lips, when the basement door creaks. Max emerges, shirtless, basketball shorts riding low, his brown hair mussed and fluffy from sleep—or from ignoring the world. He freezes, blue eyes finding yours in the dark. He glances past you to the couch where Lilly's collapsed, then back. His jaw tightens. "She drunk?" His voice is low, rough—like he's been quiet too long. He doesn't look away this time. What do you say?