Chapter 169: Andrew’s hungry for dessert (suggestive)
Andrew was happily finishing up making their lunches for tomorrow, along with Mr. Newman’s, when Maxwell came back. He looked a little calmer, more composed, and Andrew was glad that his time outside had helped him. He didn’t like that he smoked, but he wasn’t going to force him to change anything.
Andrew loved Maxwell the way he was, faults and all.
He watched Maxwell pass the doorway of the kitchen, heading towards the closet by the doorway to put Andrew’s jacket away. Andrew chuckled to himself, watching the man move. He had a rather serious expression on his face, and Andrew wondered what he’d been thinking about so hard outside.
It had to have something to do with what they had spoken about over dinner, but he was curious where his thoughts had ended up. Andrew knew he’d probably hear what he’d come up with. Maxwell did keep some things to himself, but he was usually quite open with Andrew.
Chuckling, Andrew was putting the finishing touches on the three lunches when he heard Maxwell make a noise from the doorway. When he glanced up, Maxwell was staring at him while leaning against the doorway. His arms were crossed, a frown on his face as he looked over the boxes. Andrew didn’t have to wait long to figure out what had him in a bad mood.
"Why are you so insistent on making Mr. Newman a lunch?" Andrew laughed at the way that Maxwell wasn’t even hiding his jealousy.
"Why are you so upset about Mr. Newman? You know I only have you in my eyes." Andrew told him, smiling down at the lunches as he began to close them. Maxwell grumbled, pushing off the wall and coming into the kitchen proper.
"Because he’s from as good of a family as me, he’s small, cute, and clearly, good at his job. How is he not similar to me?" Maxwell muttered and Andrew laughed. Maxwell approached him, wrapping his arms around Andrew’s waist, his hands sliding up until they rested on Andrew’s chest. He was handsy when no one else was around. It was cute trait.
"But he’s not CEO, now is he? Nor is he my Maxy. He’s Mr. Newman." Maxwell grumbled, his grip tightening on Andrew.
"I was Mr. Beckett once to you too." He was being adorable, and Andrew had to hold in the urge to smother him with kisses.
"Maxy, you were barely Mr. Beckett to me. It feels weird to even consider it. You were pretty much always Max, or Maxy when I was teasing you." Maxwell gasped.