Later That Night…
Adam isn't entirely sure how he's gone from breaking Max's heart – apparently both in and out of character – to ending up back at Max's house in a matter of hours, but after they've eaten some prime greasy spoon diner food that neither of them is going to mention to their trainers, Adam says he really has to get some sleep, Max rolls his eyes. "Where are you gonna go? Back to the shitbag hotel AEW put you up in for the night? Shocked they went big spender and put you up in a Motel 6 this time instead of… whatever hell hole will give him rooms for $35 a night?"
Adam groans. "Max… It's not that bad. I'll just grab an Uber and get back there." He checks the clock on the wall, and if it's right… he should've been back at the hotel hours ago. "There's not a hell of a lot of time left before checkout anyway, so the sooner I get to sleep, the better chance I have of not sleeping through my alarm."
Max scoffs. "Are you serious? In case you've forgotten, we've slept in the same…" bed… no, fuck, now's not the time to say that, Max… "room before. And you let your alarm go off for an hour."
"It wasn't an hour," Adam protests, annoyed but also a little touched. There's something that he loves about how Max remembers the little funny things and quirks of his personality, and it hurts that, even for a moment, he'd made him feel rejected, or like he was taking away from him the only thing he ever wanted – the only thing he'd ever denied himself. Being cared about. Being loved. "Fifteen minutes at most."
"Fifteen minutes, Adam? Really? Because I tried to wake you up and you burritoed yourself in your blankets like some kinda little bitch. And laid there for an hour. I seriously considered smothering you with a pillow and destroying your phone, but there would've been too much evidence to get rid of before checkout." And I would've missed you.
Blue eyes twinkling, Adam can't help the smirk he shoots Max. How does he always manage to make me fucking smile? "Whatever… either way, I have to get back to the hotel or I'm fucked."
"My car's outside," Max says firmly, leaving no room for discussion from Adam. "Get your shit and let's go."
Adam's not sure exactly what shit Max's talking about. He showed up in a pair of sweats and a hoodie, hair back in a ponytail and nothing on him but his hotel room key and his wallet. "Go where?" he asks, not sure if he's playing dumb or just is dumb.
"Back to your hotel, Adam. Try to keep up. Jesus Christ." Max's face makes it abundantly clear that, whether Adam's playing dumb, or has taken on dumb as a personality trait, he's still surprised at how big of a damn idiot the other man can be.
"Oh… Right," Adam replies, standing up with his crutch and adjusting his weight to double check that his necessities are back in the pocket of the hoodie. "You don't have to give me a ride."
"The hotel's on the way to my place," Max counters, still looking at Adam like he might be the stupidest man to ever walk the earth. "Don't be stupid and get an Uber. You're not poor. Those things are almost as disgusting as the hotel you're staying in. I'll drive you to your hotel." Don't say it, Max. Let it go. Let it go tonight. You need to process this tonight. Let him go and deal with it later. "So we'll go to the hotel and get your shit and you'll go back to my place. At least that way, there's no checkout waiting on you. But don't bring poor people hotel infestations into my car or house. Seriously. If a single flea or bedbug touches one hair on Piper's ass, you'll be done. Permanently."
"Kayfabe?" he asks, smirking at Max.
"No. No kayfabe. I'll kill you. I'd let Piper eat you, but she has a discerning palate, and she doesn't eat trash." Max's smile is tired – worn from a very difficult day. But it's there, and Adam can't help thanking whatever lucky stars or powers there might be that the smile is back.
"Dude, you don't have to put me up for the night. The hotel's fine, I promise. If I don't wake up, I'll get yelled at and get out of there anyway, so it's fine."
"Adam Cole, if you don't shut the fuck up and get in the car…" Max begins, leaving the threat unsaid, but Adam knows him well enough to think up at least three different ways that sentence probably ended in Max's head.
So after a little shifting around with his crutches, he manages to lower himself into the sports car that is so well maintained as to look like it just rolled off the lot. Or hell, maybe it did. Max has expensive tastes and he likes new shit. He can't help the twinge of concern about how this is going to go. WIth Max in a diner – a public place – he knows there's a level of self-protection that will be on display. And even though he knows he's not in any real danger, he's afraid of how much more real Max's hurt will become to him in the safety of his own home.
Adam knows Max. He knows the little things that give him away… but it's been a while since he's seen him this brokenhearted. All the injuries, all the bullshit, he's known good and well that they've been hell for him… but this tonight went beyond a scripted fight where a champ drops his belt. This time it was, for Max, having his rejection sensitivity play out on camera in front of his own home city, having a ridiculous number of people who saw him as their hometown hero watch him lose. And then having them see him lose his best friend, too.
It's a storyline. They both know that. But the reaction is real. The feeling of loss is real. And the feeling that he is going to lose all the ground he's gained with the fans was real. And Adam isn't sure how much of Max's pain his heart could take.
Still, he has a responsibility to Max. One he's taken on since their early days of being in each other's lives. And if Max is hurting? Adam is going to be there to support him as long as he will let him be.
If, in the moments in the ring where Adam was revealed as the Devil, someone had told him he'd be spending the night in Max's bed, he would've thought they were crazy. And yet, here he is, hoodie and t-shirt abandoned, along with his socks and shoes, as Max tries to pick something to watch on his ridiculously huge TV. He's quiet… shockingly. He hasn't said much since they got back here, short of deciding there would be a movie, popping some popcorn, and talking almost exclusively to Piper. Adam's glad they were able to talk, but there's still a heaviness hanging over Max that he can feel. As Max scrolls through the movies on the screen, Adam reaches over and takes the remote from him, then grabs his hand.
Max is immediately on his guard… immediately not trusting the person who had kept something so important from him for so long. And Adam can sense it. But he can't let it stop him. "Max… There's something I need to tell you."
Ever the skeptic, Max raises an eyebrow. "I'm listening. It better be good."
Adam holds onto his hand, and looks deep into Max's dark eyes. "You said… You said something earlier that I should've said more about, and I want to say it now."
"Moment's passed for the deep and meaningful chat, Cole. We both gotta sleep."
"No," Adam says firmly, his thumb gently rubbing against the knuckles of Max's hand. "You talk a hell of a lot. Right now, you're gonna fucking listen to me."
"You hear the way he talks to me in my own fucking house?" Max says to Piper, who is snuggled against his hip on the injured side. "Are all poors this ungrateful?"
The attempt to maintain control of the conversation is over when Adam doesn't reply to being baited. "I'm talking. When I'm done, you can say whatever the fuck you want. Deal?"
"No deal. My house. My rules."
Adam has never in his life met someone as stubborn as Max, but he wouldn't change it for the world. "Max, listen," Adam insists."You were telling me in the diner how all of this shit…" he waves his free hand around vaguely and continues. "Made you feel like you were back to square one because of your… what's the rejection thing again? The dysphoria thing? Anyways, here's the truth, Max. The fans aren't going to reject you, and despite everything that has happened in the ring? I'm not rejecting you either. I'm here. No matter how many times you call me a poor, or try to walk away, I'm here. And you're gonna be down for the count for a while with those injuries, so we can be the most obnoxiously bad patients in the history of medicine together, but I'm not leaving you."
Max doesn't say anything right away, but Adam can feel the tension of trying to pull away leave his hand. Max has never been secretive about his ADHD and the ways it has made things hard for him, but he's also never been thrilled about talking it out with people one-on-one either. He tries to take the remote back from Adam, but the older man covers it with his hand, for the moment preventing Max from grabbing it.
Adam's bright blue eyes meet Max's brown ones, and he shakes his head at the younger man. "I'm not done," he says, holding Max's gaze. "I don't have the rejection thing you do, Max. But being rejected is still a fucking bitch. I can feel for you even if I don't have the exact same thing going on. At the end of the day, I'm sad about the storyline, too. I was loving working with you and being friends in the ring and…" lovers? Boyfriends? Partners? Injury or no injury, Max'll smack me for being so cheesy, "...having each other out of the ring, too. You think they liked you because of me? Max, when I came back from that injury, I didn't think I'd ever be back up to performing like I did before. I'm not getting any younger, and the more we beat on our bodies and put them through shit, the longer it takes for them to heal."
He pauses. "You helped me get through my concerns and lack of confidence in the beginning… and I helped you show a different side of yourself. I think… I think that's not just true for our characters. It's true for us as people. So no matter what happened in that ring tonight? No matter how bad it sucks? It doesn't change us. It doesn't change the people we are, and it doesn't change how much we've helped each other along the way. And it could never in a million years change the way I feel about you… which is that I care about you so goddamn much it's kind of embarrassing."
Max is still quiet, and Adam doesn't push him to speak. He just holds his gaze another moment longer. "You don't need to say anything tonight. It's been a long long day, and I just wanted you to know how I feel and how much you matter to me. That's all." If Adam didn't know better, he'd say there were tears welling up in Max's eyes… He knows he's already shed a few of his own, and speaking is getting harder around the massive lump in his throat. So he lets the words go from there, handing Max the remote control. Max quickly chooses a movie, and despite the racing thoughts in his head, he doesn't say anything. But Adam can see that his free hand is back to gently stroking Piper instead of fidgeting the way Max does when he's anxious.
Max doesn't need words when he slowly lets himself relax against Adam's side, still holding his hand. They're going to have to talk about this more. Despite Max's insistence, Adam really isn't stupid. He knows it's going to be something they're going to have to work through – but for right now? He's satisfied by the warmth of Max's bare arm pressed into his side. The movie starts, and without even thinking about it, Adam presses a soft kiss to Max's temple. "Thank you for letting me stay tonight," he says finally.
"Charity's a tax write-off," Max replies, but the sting is gone from his words, and even if it had been there, the way he nestles that little bit closer tells Adam that working things out might not end up being uphill both ways in a blizzard after all.