Unearthed (The Dungeon Black Duology 1)

Scott sighed and nodded, then tentatively looked around, like he was seeing Max’s place for the first time. In a way, Max supposed he kind of was.

“Want some coffee?” Max offered.

Scott looked at him. “That’d be awesome.”

Max waved him over. “Then come sit at the breakfast bar. I’ll pour you a cup. How’s your stomach?”

“Um…” Scott rose to his feet and ambled over. Right on cue, his belly rumbled.

Max chuckled. “There’s my answer.”

Scott sheepishly settled onto one of the stools. “Whatever you’re making smells good.”

Max handed him a mug. “Glad you think so, ‘cause you’ll be eating it in a second.”

“Aw, man,” Scott sighed, a smile forming on his lips. “That’s really freaking awesome of you. Thanks.”

Max loaded up two plates and handed one over the half-wall. “No problem. I like to cook, so, yeah, it’s all good.” But Scott was scarfing down his portion before Max even finished speaking. Max chuckled under his breath and cracked more eggs into the pan. Clearly, someone was going to need seconds.

Scott watched him, looking sheepish again, but didn’t stop to comment. Just kept on shoveling food into his mouth. Shit, a minute later an actual moan emerged when he chomped off a huge bite of bacon.

Max’s lips twitched as he proceeded to eat his own, still standing in the kitchen across from his visitor. Unfortunately, although he hated risking ruining Scott’s appetite, he needed to work out a game plan. Like what he was going to do with this guy once his scrawny ass was fed. Max studied Scott discretely. Didn’t look dirty. Probably wouldn’t turn down a shower, though, if Max offered one. Shit. Max frowned. Scott hadn’t brought any clothes. All of his were probably at dickhead Phil’s.

Dickhead Phil. A dark smirk emerged. Wouldn’t mind a second round with that one.

Max set down his fork. Picked up his mug. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s a nice kid like you doing shacked up with such an asshole?”

Scott paused from eating. Did Max’s question upset him? Oh, no wait. He’d merely finished his food. Max motioned for Scott to hand his plate back over.

“Thanks.” Scott accepted the second serving, then dropped his gaze and proceeded to answer. “Um… I dunno. I mean, I do know. He was my boyfriend. But yeah, he was definitely an asshole.”

Max waited for more, because an answer that was not.

Scott glanced back up—not even bothering to fake a smile—but wilted when he found Max still staring. “I’m in between homes,” he quietly muttered. “Didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Max stiffened, brows furrowing. “What about your parents?” Had they kicked him out of the house because he was gay?

Scott frowned down at his plate. Didn’t look hungry anymore. In fact, he looked really fucking sad. Max shifted his weight, not liking the vibes Scott was throwing.

Finally, Scott answered. “They’re not around.”

“Not around? What’s that mean? What, they kick you out?”

Scott shook his head. “No. I left on my own.”

“Because you’re gay?”

Scott nodded.

Max pursed his lips. More assholes. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Okay. I get you. Um… So, your clothes. They’re at your ex’s?”

“My ex?” Scott murmured, looking lost in thought.

“The guy whose face I bashed in?” Max prompted. “Pretty sure we burned that bridge to the ground.”

Scott blinked and looked up. A real smiled tugged at his lips. “Yeah. We probably did. And yeah, my clothes are there…” His fresh smile faded just as fast as it’d appeared. “But I uh…”

Max shook his head. “Don’t worry. You stay here. I’ll go get them.”

Scott’s expression turned uneasy. “You’ll go get them? After last night? I’m not sure that’s a very good idea.”

Max scowled and crossed his arms. “I’m not scared of that prick.”

“But he’s bigger than you. And won’t be drunk and clumsy this time.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck. I’ll drop his chump-ass in a heartbeat.”

Scott stared at him for a second, then kind of sort of grinned, as if he’d seen something in Max’s eyes that’d convinced him. “You sure? I mean, I’ve already burdened you enough. I really hate asking you to do this, too.”

“Kid,” Max chuckled. “You haven’t asked me to do anything. Not one fucking thing, so relax.”

Scott’s whole demeanor eased. “Thanks.” Another smile. Not a big one, of course, but a real one, nevertheless. One that, Max had to admit, was pretty nice.

Collecting their dishes, Max pulled open a drawer, grabbed some paper and a pen, and handed them over. “Jot down his address, then go get a shower. You can borrow some sweats and a tee shirt ‘til I get back.”

Scott stared at it and nodded, his face suddenly tentative.

“There a problem?” Max muttered.

Scott shook his head. “No.”

But Max had a pretty good idea of what was bothering him.

“Scott.” Scott looked up. Max held his eyes. “You can stay here. It’s cool. Until you make other plans.” The words just came out, but Max had meant them. Meant them in the sense that they weren’t spoken grudgingly. He down-to-his-soul really wanted to help. Which, outside of scenes, wasn’t very Max-like.