Cherry's party had somehow turned into one of the coolest parties of the year, throbbing house music, seniors singing off-key and even some pretty great tropical punch, with the clueless blonde at the centre of it all, soaking up the attention from her peers. Phoebe, who was vaguely bemused but didn't begrudge her friend the attention, spent most of the night on the sofa with a revolving door of companionship, situating herself in the centre of the bright red sofa near the edge of the rumpus room.
"Hey, dweeb-ee." Max's slurred speech brought Phoebe's conversation with Whitney to an abrupt halt. The brunette excused herself politely from the popular girl to swivel quickly and use her best glare on her brother, who had slumped into the seat on her other side, his arms thrown across the back of the couch, eyes fluttering closed. Whitney smiled politely, if not a little bit exasperatedly at the boy, going to get herself another drink.
"Oh my God, Max are you drunk?" The super asked once she was certain Whitney was out of earshot, her eyes going wide at the sight of the plastic red cup in his relaxed grip. She leaned across him to grab the cup, which was thankfully empty, and sniff it, anxiety pooling in her stomach at the thought of what her parents would do to them if Max went home drunk.
"Relax, I've only been drinking the punch." He sighed, eyes refusing to focus as he clapped her on the back, hazy smile on his face. Phoebe's face screwed up into a mask of anger and resentment, holding the cup as if too much contact could get her grounded simply via exposure.
"The punch has been spiked." She groaned at the realisation, and Max let out a loud cry of laughter, startling his sister as he sat bolt upright, one hand still on her back, the other reaching for the cup, which she jerked away as he began to move.
"I knew that." He huffed, still only half aware of what was happening, trying in vain to grab the cup as Phoebe moved it further out of his reach. The two of them overbalanced as he leaned his whole weight against her and Phoebe ended up sprawled across the sofa with Max draped over her. With his chin digging into her upper arm and his free hand dancing on her calf to the beat of the music, she looks at him, and sees him looking back. "It wasn't me." He told her simply, and she can't help but believe him, which, in her defence, probably wasn't the best idea. "But only because I didn't think of it first." His voice is resolute and she rolled her eyes, pulled from her thoughts as he uses his telekinesis to pour himself another cup of punch. Phoebe lets out a strangled cry, shoving Max off of her and breaking his focus. The cup of punch, as well as her brother come crashing to the ground and Phoebe only picks up one.
"Cherry!" Phoebe called as she dragged her brother along, letting him stumble uncoordinatedly behind her. Her best friend's grin is blindingly bright, as it always was, turning from her conversation to give her full attention to Phoebe. "Max is drunk and doing… superpower stuff." She explains in a dramatic whisper, leaning in closer as to only be heard by Cherry over the pounding house music. Cherry takes a moment to process what Phoebe had said, but her eyes light up and her gaze focuses on Max.
"Oh cool!" She cried, her smile growing even wider, if possible, as Max waved at her with the hand not held to his side by his sister. "Can he-"
"No, Cherry, this is bad." Phoebe cuts her off and Cherry's mouth snaps closed, her face falling. "And I can't call my parents, or they'll know that..." She sighed, gesturing helplessly to Max who was watching some of the more popular girls dance with an almost hungry look in his eye. Phoebe wouldn't even acknowledge the flutter of discomfort in her stomach at that thought, and she tried not to think anything of it.
"You guys can stay here tonight then, I mean, you were going to anyway," Cherry laughed, back to her bubbly self. Cherry was anything if not adaptable, and that was one of the reasons Phoebe was grateful to have her as a best friend.
"Thank you so much, you're awesome." She breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her best friend in for a one-armed hug, Max lurching forwards at the sudden movement. Cherry frowned at their linked hands, but didn't think much of it. They were weird.
"Oh, it's OK. You can stay in my brother's room! He's away with my parents." She offered, gesturing up the stairs and Phoebe wasted no time in pulling Max away from any more temptations, despite his sad whining sounds and shouts of annoyance whenever he tripped.
The room was clean enough, Phoebe noted, with posters for bands stuck on every available surface and a cosy bed in the corner. Phoebe smiled as she looked around, letting go of Max's hands to examine the posters. A lot she didn't recognise, but she did see one of her brother's band, made of construction paper and printed in black and white, with Max, Oyster and Gideon's frozen grins all smiling out at her from the wall, the band in between drummers at the time Gideon's mom had let them borrow her fancy camera. She liked the poster, the three of the boys had just finished a rehearsal and all looked tired but high on adrenaline, Max grinning brighter than he ever did around her... Then again, he mostly smirked around her. Phoebe swallowed thickly, flinching away from the poster and her thoughts, her mind quickly spinning a new set; perhaps she just didn't like their new drummer, yeah, that was it, that's why she liked the poster. She turned back around slowly, still trapped in thoughts, but curious to see what had kept her brother so quiet. It was a different picture than the one she had been imagining, having broken several objects and escaped out the window. Instead, she saw him laying face down on the bed, limbs spread akimbo beneath the Avengers duvet. There was the low hum of noise, not the music, which had been significantly muffled by the stairs and subsequent hallways, but upon closer inspection, Phoebe could hear Max mumbling the words 'comfy-cosy' under his breath, his eyes closed as he sunk into the pillow.
"Comfy-cosy, indeed." Phoebe smirked, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of her twin for future blackmail purposes. Well, that was her justification; she would never tell anyone, not even Max, that he looked absolutely adorable tucked in and almost asleep.
"Phoebe!" The sleepy, whiny voice of Max reached Phoebe's ears as she made her way to the door. She turned on her heel, frowning at her brother, who had rolled onto his side, throwing the covers back and reaching out to her. "Stay with me?" He asked, quietly, eyes only half focused. Phoebe snorted, but a glance at the digital clock made her hesitate; it was nearly half past one, she really should be getting to bed soon... if not here, well, there were worse places.
"But Cherry -" Phoebe began to weakly protest, but was cut off by a wave of Max's hand as he wiggled back, making more room.
"Cherry's pretty, stupid and has spiked punch, she's not going to get bored." He said, as matter-of-factly as he could with his face half hidden by a bright green duvet with the Hulk's face on it. Phoebe smiled involuntarily and conceded that he was right, slipping off her flats. She curled into the bed beside Max and let him wrap the duvet around her, the two of them laying on their sides, facing one another.
"You think Cherry's pretty?" Phoebe didn't know why she asked, but she's blaming it on the time and pretending she had some of the spiked punch when really all she had been drinking was water. She's looking at her hands and glances up to gauge Max's reaction, he's got his eyes closed but he's still smirking.
"Yeah, but she's really stupid." He snorted, before adding, almost as an afterthought, "So don't worry." He doesn't think about why he added it, it's out now and he doesn't seem inclined to take it back.
"I'm not worried." She responded, automatically defensive. Max cracked his eyes open a tiny bit to watch her frown and fidget, almost nervously but with none of the real stress. His gut reaction is to both hate and love the emotion as it plays on her face, adoring how easily defensive and jealous she gets. It's not a weird feeling for him to have, not when it's past midnight and he's drunk enough to forget about this tomorrow morning.
"You're pretty too, Pheebs." He said, softly, petting her hand awkwardly, closing his eyes before she catches him staring. "If you tell anyone I said that I'll destroy you." He tells her with as much seriousness as he can muster. Phoebe can't help but laugh.
"Thanks, Max." She mumbled once the laughter died down, smiling despite herself and let closing her eyes, enjoying his company, even if they don't say anything more and simply fall asleep.
They sleep better that night than they have in years and wake hand in hand. Max is the first to open his eyes and screams like a banshee, shoving his twin violently from the bed and onto the floor as a gut reaction. Phoebe awakes with a warm heart to a cold floor and doesn't want to think about how empty her hand feels.