Chapter 100: A successful heat? (m)
Maxwell felt like his whole body was one, giant bruise. His whole body ached, and he had no idea what time it was, where he was, or even, who he was. His eyes felt crusty and gross, and his mouth felt parched.
God, what had he done?
"Maxy? Are you awake?" The deep timber of another man’s voice filled his ears, and any fear or anxiety he had washed away. He didn’t know why he knew that voice, but it filled him with a sense of ease. If he was hearing it, then everything was fine. Why did he trust this man so much?
Forcing his eyes open, he winced at the feeling of his eyelids separating, and blinked several times as he tried to get his bearings.
He was in a bedroom, lying down on a soft bed. His whole body pulsed with his heartbeat. He felt worse than death, and it didn’t help that there was a handsome man in glasses sitting on the edge of the bed. He had soft, brown eyes that stared at him with open affection, and his slightly darker skin tone contrasted his own skin where he held his hand. His blonde hair was a slight shock, but suited him.
He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. For some reason, Maxwell couldn’t take his gaze away from his crotch, and felt his ears warm at the thought. Fuck, what on earth was wrong with him?
The handsome man chuckled, and Maxwell’s eyes drew back up towards his face. He was smiling, and Maxwell felt the breath leave his lungs.
"You can look all you want later, Maxy, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Michael warned me that when you come out of your heats you’re usually a little foggy. And sore. Are you doing okay? It was a pretty intense few days for us." Maxwell stared at the man speaking, his brain trying to process what he had said. Heats? What the fuc-
Everything came back to Maxwell in a rush, and he closed his eyes slowly, painfully as he wanted his bed to swallow him up.
"Oh god." Maxwell whispered, his throat feeling like death.
"Shh. Here, some orange juice. It’ll probably be better than water right now." A soft, gentle touch as Andrew tilted Maxwell’s head forward. Maxwell opened his eyes to stare at Andrew as he lifted the glass to his lips and helped Maxwell drink from it. Andrew was thoughtful, and kind. Considerate.