Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Exhaling, he gave himself an encouraging nod, then shoved open his door and got out. Fuck, his pulse was racing. He locked things up and turned around. Would Max be happy to see him? He peered up at the house. His hands went clammy. He broke a little sweat. Maybe he hadn’t really thought this through. Maybe he should just keep tabs on Max from afar.

But that would be stalking, and stalking was wrong.

Although, he definitely wouldn’t mind if Max stalked him.

The garage door sprang to life and quickly started opening. Sean froze, still standing like an asshat at his car. Crap. Was that Max? Was he leaving? That would suck. But a second later, Scott’s black Challenger backed into view. Sean exhaled. Thank fuck.

Scott stopped and rolled down his window. “Sean? Is that you?”

Sean pocketed his hands. Tamped a sheepish wince.

Scott mouthed what looked like, “shit,” then gestured Sean over.

Sean’s stomach twisted restlessly. Would Scott approve of his visit? Or would he tell Sean to get a life and go away.

Sean forced a small smile and headed over. “Hey.”

Scott regarded him. “Hey, yourself… How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

“You sure?” His dark eyes looked concerned.

“Yeah.” Sean shrugged again. “I’m fine.”

Scott didn’t look convinced but nodded a little anyway. “Listen...” He glanced toward the house and sighed. “Now isn’t the best time for a visit.”

Sean frowned. Scott didn’t want him bugging his friend. “I wasn’t gonna stay… Just wanted to say hi.”

Scott shook his head. “No. That’s, uh, not what I mean… It’s Max… He’s just kind of… indisposed.”

“Indisposed?” What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Scott rubbed his brow. “Yeah… As in totally trashed.”

Drunk? Max was drunk? Fuck.

Sean’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.” He glanced up to the house. “But he’s okay, right? Alone, I mean. Won’t like fall down the stairs or anything?”

“Actually, he probably would, which is why I put him to bed. Didn’t want his drunk ass wandering around.”

Sean nodded. “Smart.” Hopefully the man would stay put.

Silence lingered.

Scott sighed. “I’m sorry you wasted your time coming over.”

“No worries,” Sean mumbled, glancing at the ground. “Just wanted to see how he was doing.”

More silence. Sean looked up. Scott was watching him with pensive eyes. Watching him while absently rubbing his chin.

“You still want to?” he finally asked.

Sean’s heart skipped a beat. “Of course.”

“Alright.” Scott nodded. There was a glint his eyes. “He could probably use a drink of water, anyway.”

Sean smiled, pulse shooting back to excited mode. “No problem.”

Scott smiled, too. “Thanks. You can go in through the garage.”

“Okay.”

“Take it easy.”

“You, too.”

Then just like that, Scott was pulling away, his tail lights shrinking into the distance. The garage door started closing. Sean hustled inside. Damn. In just a minute he’d be up in Max’s bedroom, checking on the man he couldn’t have. His chest squeezed nervously. He wanted to see Max, yeah, but doing so was definitely going to hurt. Sean had known this, though, before he even decided to come. But ultimately, he’d decided it was worth it. Fingers crossed that Max would feel the same way.

Sean strode to the door, pushed it open, and entered the kitchen. Quick stop to the refrigerator. Water bottle – check. Sean hit the hallway next en route to the stairs.

“Please be a happy drunk,” he murmured, rounding the bend. “Happy… as opposed to homicidal.”

He took to the staircase, but as he reached the top, his steady strides slowed to a crawl. He eyed Max’s door at the end of the hallway. Listened for sounds as he approached. Nothing but the murmur of distant music, which wasn’t exactly much to go on. He arrived a moment later and steeled his nerves.

Inhale… Exhale… Tentative knock.

No reply.

He knocked again.

More of the same.

Sean’s brain churned. What if Max was passed out in the bathroom? Or worse, in there praying to the porcelain god?

Sean gripped the knob and gave it a turn, then opened the door… and stilled.

Max wasn’t in the bathroom.

Max was out cold on his bed.

Wearing nothing but a pair of black jeans.

Sean took him in, noting how he was propped against the headboard, and how a bottle of whiskey was still clutched in his hand. Must’ve conked out fast. Even his lamp was still on.

Sean smiled, shaking his head. Drunk, but still beautiful. In a different way, though, than when Max was awake. More peaceful, maybe, or at least, not as uptight. Relaxed, parted lips. A brow that wasn’t furrowed. Kind of made Sean want to steal a kiss. He shifted in the doorway. Made him want to, but he wouldn’t. He was there for one reason. To make sure Max was safe. That, and to bring him some water, which Sean would leave on the nightstand. Max could drink it later when he woke up.

Sean made his way over and set the bottle down, but quickly fell back to staring. He couldn’t help it. He never got to see Max this way. Wholly unguarded with no emotional blockades. It captivated Sean. Mesmerized him. Made him fall even harder. Harder for this impossible man.