"So," Max says quietly.
"So," Adam mumbles, face buried in his pillow. They're laying side by side in the dark, the quiet blanketing them as much as Max's bedding. Until, anyway, Max grows tired of it and breaks it. As he tends to do.
"You weren't really talkative on Dynamite last night or since you got home," Max observes, hand trailing lazily along his side. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, not really," Adam mumbles, blinking as Max slowly tugs him over onto his back and hovers over him.
"You're contradicting yourself there, babe," he says, searching his face. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Adam mumbles. "Just everything, I guess." His hand lazily trails up Max's wrist, gripping his forearm. "Tired of the wheelchair, tired of this walking boot, didn't like leaving you on Valentine's Day." He looks away. "I miss wrestling. And I know it's... selfish to complain, you're going through it too, but-"
"Hey, no," Max cuts him off, cradling his jaw in his hands. "We're not doing that, alright? You're not selfish for talking to me about how you're feeling. Just because I'm on the shelf too doesn't mean that your problems aren't relevant. I know there's not a lot I can do, but I can listen. I can try to distract you. So just let me, huh?"
Adam exhales, his hand squeezing Max's arm. "I love you," he murmurs.
Max smiles at him, presses a loud kiss to the side of his face, which makes Adam scrunch his nose up, then laugh helplessly, like Max knew it would. "Love you too, baybay. Now come on, lay it on ol' Maxy. I wanna hear about everything. Except Roderick's boring ass issues, you can keep that to yourself, I don't want to fall asleep."
Adam huffs, eyes glinting in the faint light. "Ok, if you're sure."
"I am." Max rests his head against Adam's and waits, an intent look on his face.
Adam exhales. Trusts Max to help as best as he can. Finds the words to ease the stress he's been holding onto the last few days.