Disclaimer: I own nothing, and never will.

Duplicity

Chapter 2: Cuddle Bug

.~.~.~.~.

Wednesday night (three days after my horrific failure at asking Rosalind out, when I discovered that I had competition in the form of the friendly amnesiac farmer next door) found me in Max's room, the two of us talking about nothing in particular while Max flipped through his collection of records, looking for something to listen to. It was a perfectly comfortable conversation until Max just had to bring up what happened.

"Have you talked to Rosalind at all recently?" he asked, picking up a record and looking at it for a moment before putting it back.

I heaved a sigh, lightly thumping my head against the wall behind me. "No, not really. We talked for a short time yesterday, but not for very long." I'd been busy with work for the most part of the beginning of the week, but I had run into her after work while on a walk. It was only small talk—she was on her way to visit Julia at the bath house and couldn't hang around.

She did mention having a great time at the dance festival with Kyle, though, which bothered me more than I could admit. Luckily, though, she seemed to have forgotten that I was about to ask her something, because she didn't mention it. At least I wouldn't have to embarrass myself trying to make something up.

"He comes by every morning with a gift for her and stays to chat for a while, you know. I'm afraid she can't stop talking about him," Max said, abandoning his search for a moment to glance back at me. "Whatever are you going to do about it?"

I slouched in my seat on his bed, chewing my lip in thought. What could I do about it? I hadn't really the time to think of anything, and besides, Max was best at that kind of thing… "I don't know," I replied truthfully. "Quite honestly, I don't have any ideas…" Kyle was charismatic and friendly. Everyone in town loved him—he was kind to everyone, myself included. He'd attract all of the girls in town's attention just by being there; while little me wasn't really noticed unless they came into the Clinic with some kind of injury or sickness. He also was someone new; we've all known each other since we were babies. I think Alicia called it… an air of mystery? Yeah. I definitely didn't have that.

I didn't really stand a chance, unless I really tried hard at it. And I wasn't going to just give up, no way. This was too important to be shy about it. Now if only I could impress her…

"Well…" Max began, continuing to flip through sleeves and sleeves of his music, "the Fishing Contest is this weekend."

"So?"

"You could participate."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Are you serious? Can you honestly picture me participating in a Fishing Contest? I'd never catch anything. Why should I, anyway?"

"Because, Kyle will probably participate." Max smiled at me, pulling out a record and waving it at me. "Found it."

"Finally. And so what?"

"Well, you could participate," he pulled the record out of its sleeve and placed it on the player, "and if you beat him, that would attract Rosalind's attention, don't you think?"

I bit my lip, mulling it over. "Maybe… or I could fail miserably, which is probably the more likely outcome."

Max sighed, putting the needle on the disc and starting the player. "You see, it's that attitude that keeps holding you back! You don't know if you don't try, and if you don't try, Rosalind is going to fall for Kyle and not you." He crawled onto the bed as the music started playing, sitting next to me.

I sighed. That was definitely true… "But I'm a doctor, not a fisherman, Max. I haven't gone fishing in years, and I was never good at it in the first place." I almost shivered at the memories of the countless times we'd gone when we were kids—I'd spend hours with my line in the water while Barrett caught fish after fish (usually Max acted like a princess and refused to touch them because they were slimy, but he still caught them), and when I did manage to hook something, most of the time it either got away, or when I reeled it out of the water it escaped or hurt me somehow. It just wasn't my thing. I didn't like watching the fish asphyxiate; either…it made me feel bad.

Max chuckled. "That's true. But Rosalind knows that too. Imagine what she'd think if you actually won? Especially since I hear Kyle's pretty good at it. Barrett told me he received a few good salmon from him a while back."

I couldn't help but snort in derision at that. "If you're so confident in his abilities and know full well of my lack of any whatsoever, then why are you even entertaining the idea that I'd win?"

"Just a thought." He chuckled. "You don't actually have to do it. You're the one who asked me for ideas."

I ignored the fact that I didn't actually ask him for ideas and merely mentioned that I didn't have any at the moment, because it was a rather moot point, and settled for sighing despondently and flopping onto my back on the bed. "I'll think about it," I responded eventually, staring up at the ceiling. "But don't get your hopes up. It sounds like a Very Bad Idea to me."

"Whatever you say," he said, and I ignored the teasing lit to his voice in favor of just trying to forget about the current issue for a while and relax. I didn't come here to get all worked up. The music was soothing—a light melody on piano, and Max's bed was super comfortable like always. My bed, which I thought was pretty comfortable in itself, felt like a rock compared to his, and I couldn't deny that I was a little jealous of it. I breathed in a sigh of contentment, closing my eyes, and just listened to the music flow by.

The only time I ever got to relax like this was when I visited Max—at home there was always some kind of chore to do. It was nice, to have a place to relax separate from where I worked. I knew that Max liked it when we did this too, because he was usually busy helping his father run his business. We didn't get to spend the afternoon like this often, so it was always a nice change when we did.

My relaxed mood was interrupted slightly, though, when I got an odd feeling. I cracked open an eye and found Max staring at me, a thoughtful look on his face. I raised an eyebrow in silent question, but apparently he wasn't looking at my face (I couldn't tell exactly where he was looking due to foreshortening) because he didn't react.

"Enjoying the view?" I ventured, not being able to help the amused smile that cracked my face when he jumped a little, gaze snapping to my face. He actually looked a little sheepish, which I thought was amusing—aside from the fact that he was staring at me in the first place.

He recovered relatively quickly, though. "Maybe." He chuckled, smiling at me. "I was just thinking about something, I didn't mean to stare at you."

I didn't quite believe him, but decided to just accept the answer, because I doubted I was going to get anything out of him even if I did ask. I was entirely too comfortable at the moment to bother, anyway. I closed my eyes again, breathing deeply. His room smelled like him—like his cologne, mostly, but I could still pick up the undertones of a smell that was distinctly him. It was soothing, like a fond memory.

.~.~.~.~.

This was getting a little frustrating, Max decided. His carefully crafted resolve was cracking bit by bit on all sides while he struggled to pick the pieces up and glue them back in place. This just wasn't fair, in his opinion.

He glanced over at Ray, who laid sprawled out on his bed next to where he sat, peacefully asleep. He noticed the young doctor's breathing slowly even out sometime after the second song on the record finished playing, and now, since the record had come to end, the only sound in the room was his—very adorable—light snoring. This was what was bugging him. Not because he had fallen asleep while they were supposed to be spending time together—he honestly didn't mind that, because Ray was quite cute when he slept and he was sure he needed the rest—but, well, because he had fallen asleep right next to him, in his bed.

The urge to curl up next to him just to touch and be near him was almost maddening. It tugged at every muscle in his body and the back of his mind like a nagging child, but he didn't want to give in to it. He couldn't. He had long ago told himself 'no, Ray is off limits, no matter how much you're attracted to him, because he loves your sister and she might just like him back.'

That was if Kyle didn't get in the way of that. And he was so tempted to let him. But he promised Ray that he would help him in his pursuit of his sister's attention, and he wasn't one to break a promise. If anything, he was a man of his word. Just letting Kyle sweep Rosalind off her feet and not actively doing anything to prevent it was like breaking that promise, even if it left Ray open for himself. Which he wanted very badly, by the way.

That promise just so happened to also be what made the current situation so intensely infuriating. Here Ray was, his long ago discovered object of his attentions, in his bed, at arm's reach, and he couldn't touch him. Well, he shouldn't, anyway. How did he know that if he did indulge himself, that he wouldn't just leave himself wanting more? That would be worse than the original situation.

He let out a small growl of frustration, running a hand through his hair and pulling on it. He contemplated just waking him up so that the temptation would go away, but Ray just looked so peaceful for once, so he didn't have the heart to. Plus, he did quite like watching him (as creepy as it might have sounded); the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the quiet wheezing of his breathing, the way his face was totally relaxed, all stress lines gone.

It was an endearing picture. And an absolutely irresistible one, too.

Unfortunately, Max was a man who was used to getting what he wanted, and thus had very little self-restraint. Just one cuddle wouldn't hurt, right? As long as he didn't go too far, it would be fine. Maybe it would get it out of his system so he could get over it and not be so tempted anymore. After all, he would know what it would be like now to sleep next to him, wouldn't he? If Ray woke up, he could just play it off and say he was trying to wake him up and he wouldn't (although Ray was usually a pretty light sleeper). That sounded like a safe plan, right?

Having successfully convinced himself it was okay, he laid down carefully next to him, back to the wall, watching Ray's face intently for any sign that he was waking up. There wasn't one, so he wiggled closer, until they were almost touching.

He froze in surprise when Ray shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his side so that he was facing him with a deep breath. They were touching now, but it was Ray who was touching him—his hand lightly bunched in his shirt, not really gripping, but there. A small blush bloomed across Max's cheekbones, and he resisted the urge to laugh lest it wake Ray up. Well, if Ray instinctively sought him out, then he supposed he could try to push it a little further. He wrapped an arm around Ray's waist, watching for a few seconds for a reaction before pulling him to him, his head resting on the crook of Max's other arm. Ray didn't so much as stir, and Max's heart did victory leaps in his chest.

He happily snuggled closer to him, delighting in the heat radiating off his body and the comfort his closeness gave him. It was bliss. He'd just have to deal with the repercussions later, because right now, it was worth it.

.~.~.~.~.

A/N: Special shout out and thank you goes to Thoughtless7, who sat through all my useless drivel and wangst while I was writing this (and many future chapters, lol. Poor her). I probably would have gone and cried in a corner after erasing the last part from Max's perspective if not for her, because it was a bitch and hated coming out of my brain in a way I liked. I'm STILL not completely satisfied with it, but I'm tired of trying to fix it and not knowing how I really actually want it to go, so I'm just giving up on it and leaving it as it is. OH WELL. We all strike out sometimes, I suppose. :P You get the basic idea.

Thank you for reading~