Part Three
Chapter Summary: She wished she could have said something - anything - other than that.

From the bed, he could hear them talking and as he was pulled further from sleep, he groaned. He'd heard the doorbell and had all but shoved Liz from the bed so she could answer it and had ducked his head back under the covers in hopes that sleep would return. Which it had.

For all of thirty seconds.

Screwing his eyes shut against the bright sunlight that scorched in the window, he groaned again and sat up, letting the sheets fall from his body. He knew it was only a matter of time before he came around but he still wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. John didn't understand that sometimes, Max just needed his space; but he couldn't tell John this because the first (and only) time he ever had, John had stropped off and hadn't spoken to him for weeks.

He sighed and dropped his feet to the floor, shivering slightly at the dip in temperature and he felt the skin on his legs goose pimple. When he'd awoken earlier in the morning, it had still been dark out and the evidence of how horny he was had been poking into Liz's back; thankfully, she hadn't awoken and Max had sat for ten minutes trying to tell himself to calm down. This time, the chill quickly took care of what Max had only half managed to do earlier.

"...not getting in the middle of whatever is going on with you two."

Max froze as he walked down the hall, his eyes closing as Liz's words reached his ears. Great, he thought, just what he needed; John was difficult and closed off at the best of times, never mind when he'd had the opportunity to go on the defensive.

When he rounded the corner, he could see John's eyes shift from Liz and Max was momentarily startled by the coldness in his usually warm hazel eyes; it's a look Max has seen, though only once and the thought that he put it there sent a jar through his chest.

He loves John, he really does.

But sometimes it was difficult to remember that they're together.

"Max." His voice was flat and Max winced but he kept his eyes on John even as Liz whirled around and stared at him open mouthed. He smiled tightly back at her and his eyes slid to her for a moment, taking in her rumpled form. "So you are here," he said and turned his eyes to Liz, the tone in his voice condemning.

Liz simply sighed and walked away, pausing for a second to touch Max's arm. He watched her leave – anything so he didn't need to turn and face the conversation with John.

"What are you doing here, John?" Max asked as he turned back to his lover, his tone resigned. It was far too early and he was in no mood to fight.

John, for his part, looked as weary and as tired as Max felt and as he took a seat next to him on the sofa, he felt the first pangs of regret; he hated his need to be alone. He hated the way that John could make his emotions flip from one extreme to the other.

"What are you doing here, Max?" John replied, the usual bite in his tone missing. Max winced at that. "This isn't your home."

Max closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa, avoiding the gaze of his lover. He knew that tone. He'd invented that tone. Back in the day when he was the jealous type, he'd used that tone a lot.

"I just needed somewhere to crash."

"You can 'crash' at ours, Max. That's what it's there for."

Max leant forward and turned his head to meet John's eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

John sighed and fell back against the back of the sofa, his fingers digging into his eyes. Max felt bad, he really did.

"I know," John said as he sighed. His eyes flickered around the room and Max could see his mind doing inventory of what he was seeing and, ridiculously, he held his breath. "You don't sleep on the couch when you stay here?" Max shook his head and glanced away. "Even when Soren stays over?"

Max could hear the cheeky grin in John's voice and he turned to him with a tight smile, knowing that the joviality was forced.

"I'm never here when Soren stays over."

And it was true; he never was. The thought of hearing Liz and Soren going at it was enough to put him off sex for life never mind hearing it. Liz had been with Soren for almost as long as Max had been with John and in those first few months of Liz and Soren's relationship Max had felt the tingling of his very own green eyed monster. Sure, Soren was devastatingly pretty – but that wasn't what he had been jealous of. He'd been jealous that Soren could share Liz's bed, Liz's time, Liz's laugh. Max couldn't remember a time when he spent as little time in Liz's company as in those first few months of Soren and Liz's relationship.

It had sucked.

"God," John said as he dragged his hand over his face, tugging his tanned skin along with his fingers. It showed Max just how tired his lover was and it was unnerving. He made to reach out to cover John's hand with his own but John pulled back, almost subconsciously, and fisted his hands at his sides. "No wonder Soren is the way he is," he murmured and let out an airy laugh and Max could visibly see his muscles relax as his own tightened.

"What the hell does that mean?" Max half yelled as he stood up from his perch, his blood pumping adrenaline through his veins.

John sighed and dug his fingers into his eyes again but Max was not soothed. His blood was boiling and he could feel the irrepressible urge to hit something rise within him. He took a deep breath, and another, closing his eyes as he did so.

"I didn't come here to fight, Max," John said quietly, apologetically and Max turned to him, dropping his shoulders from their tense spot around their ears. "I didn't even come here to find you," he continued and Max frowned. "I came to see if Liz wanted to go for breakfast before I did her hair."

Max's frown deepened and he retook his seat, dropping his head into his hands. He was tired; more tired than he remembered being in years.

"So how did..."

John quirked a half smile in Max's direction and max felt the familiar tingling of attraction; it had been a long time since he'd felt those towards John.

"Before I could get a word out she proclaimed that you weren't here." Max frowned at that, wondering why she had lied. "She's your best friend, Max," John continued and Max looked to him, "she's just trying to protect you." Max frowned again and looked away, his breath coming in heavy sighs. He hated this; he hated these conflicting emotions. He jerked when he felt something on his skin and when he looked down, he saw John's strong fingers weaving their way through his. He gave a gentle squeeze before withdrawing his hand, rubbing it through his tousled hair. He heard John sigh and he closed his eyes. "You don't need protection from me, Max."

Max licked his lips as he nodded but couldn't bring himself to look at his lover – not yet.

"I know."

Silence descended upon them, uncomfortable and thick and as Max shifted on the chair, John tried to reach out again. Max let him touch him, tried to tell himself not to pull away from the familiar touch.

"Whatever it is you're going through," John said quietly, desperately, and Max sucked in a breath, "I hope you get out of it soon." He paused for a moment and Max let out his breath. "I miss you."

Max laughed half heartedly at that and turned into John's quick embrace.

"I've only been gone a day and a half."

John touched his cheek and smiled forlornly, his expression unreadable.

"You know what I mean." The annoying thing was that he did know what he meant. And he hated it. "Go get your girl," John quipped after long minutes of strenuous silence and Max stood, nodding. He was halfway out the door when John called to him again. "Will you be home tonight?"

Max looked down to his toes and shook his head.

"I don't know."

John simply nodded his head.

--

"Max, hey!" Liz said as she turned from her computer monitor, noting that her best friend was hovering outside the window to her bedroom. Standing, she motioned him in and moved around the room to try and clear some of the mess. "What are you doing here?"

The question sounded harsher than she meant but considering she hadn't seen or heard from him in the two weeks since he'd walked in on her changing, he couldn't exactly expect anything else.

"I..." He said but trailed off, his hand rising to tug at his ear in a move so endearingly familiar to Liz that she felt her anger dissipate quickly. At eighteen years old, Max Evans had lost his boyish features and embraced manhood but while most of the other girls in their senior class threw themselves at him, Liz could still only see the boy she'd beat up in the sand pit of their kindergarten class. "I have to tell you something, Liz," he said eventually as he moved around her room, fingering different objects, lingering in front of photos to laugh and shake his head.

She stepped in front of him when he continued his wanderings, arching her brow. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back until he sat on the edge of her bed, his fingers entwined tightly between his knees. As she took a seat next to him, she reached out to brush the hair from his face; two months ago, Max had decided to ditch his short hair for a loner style as well as his loose fitted button downs and replaced them with fitted tees that hugged his body perfectly; it was a look that worked well for him, she noted as she took in his black Nirvana tee and his dark fitted jeans.

"What is it, Max?" She asked, concern lacing her voice as she reached between his legs for his hands to try and pry them apart. "What's wrong?"

He laughed lightly, incredulously and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick out in places; she smiled at that.

"I can't..." He took another breath to steady himself but Liz didn't turn to him, didn't try to pressure him. This was Max, he would tell her when he was ready. She waited for nearly five minutes, her fingers stroking over his palm in an effort to calm him down before he turned to her fully, taking both her hands in his, staring at her nose. "I'm gay."

Liz hesitated for only a second before she smiled and let out an airy laugh, tugging her hands away from his.

"Yeah, right, Max," she said as she rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "If you didn't want to tell me you could have just –"

"No, Liz," he interrupted her and held onto her shoulders, turning her to him. "I mean it." He gulped and she could see his Adam's apple rise and fall, the fear in his face, the uncertainty in his eyes.

"You're serious?" She asked quietly, her voice dropping so low she was sure he wouldn't have heard her. He nodded and her lips involuntarily formed an 'O' and she tried a few times for breath.

"Liz?" He said when the moment stretched on too long and she could see the pain flash across his face at the thought of her rejection, could feel his fingers loosening their hold on her and she fought against her disbelief to reach out to him, to reassure him but the words wouldn't come.

Instead, she reached out with her arms and drew his shaking body to hers, enveloping him as much as she could into her arms.

"Are you sure?"

She instantly berated herself for the ridiculous question; of all the things she could have said, she chose that. Way to go Liz.

Instead of the annoyance she had feared, he simply laughed lightly into her neck and nodded, his arms around her tightening.

"Yep."

She pulled back slightly and eyed him, pursing her lips as she perused his form.

"How do you know?" She asked and she cursed her scientific mind for overriding her heart's desire to ask something – anything – other than that.

His smile reassured her that her question was welcome and she felt herself relax in his embrace slightly.

"I made out with a guy at a party." He shrugged nonchalantly and Liz scrunched up her nose in mock distaste even as her fingers rubbed soothing circles in his bicep. "I liked it." He shrugged again. "I also made out with a girl and I didn't like it; haven't for a very long time." Liz sighed dramatically and flopped onto her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she did so. He laughed as he crawled up beside her, lying on his front as he looked down at her. "What is it?"

She turned to him and looked up at his face, noting the first signs of happiness she'd been missing for some time. She reached out with her hand and stroked his cheek, pursing her lips as she inspected his face, her thumb finding its way across his lips and she was sure she heard his faint gasp but brushed it aside.

"It's such a shame," she said eventually, candidly, as she withdrew her hand and closed her eyes before she could see his confused smile. "You were turning into quite the handsome young man."

He laughed at that and the bed moved as he let his head fall beside hers and she wiggled closer to him as he slid his arm around her waist.

"You're just going to have to come up with another way to fulfil your fantasies, Lizzie," he said humorously as his fingers skimmed over her sides, eliciting a shriek of giggles from her. "Gay men don't marry their best friends."

Liz turned to him with her eyebrow raised and an indignant look on her face.

"And who said I wanted to marry you?" She asked lightly, pushing at his shoulder as he smirked down at her.

"Who wouldn't?" She rolled her eyes and slid out from underneath him, pulling her tee shirt over her head as she went. "What are you doing?" She heard him ask and she turned back to him with an innocent smile pasted over her lips.

She shrugged as she unclipped her bra and tossed it onto the table beside the door.

"Going for a shower," she said innocently as she flashed him a bit of skin. She could see his dumb struck expression and she laughed at it. "You're gay, Max." She shrugged and he conceded with a nod as she slid in behind her bathroom door. "Besides," she said as she popped her head back around the door jamb, a crooked smile across her lips, "you've seen me naked before."

As she shut the door behind her, she laughed as he yelled,

"Yeah, well I wasn't gay then!"

Before she stepped under the shower, she could have sworn she heard him curse before the water drowned out any other sounds.