1. After the Party

The music was still pounding behind them as Max guided Carlos through the lobby, one arm draped firmly around his waist, the other tugging open doors and calling for the elevator. Carlos reeked of champagne and laughter. His cheeks were flushed, eyes half-lidded but still soft as they looked up at Max like he’d hung the stars himself.

“Maxieee,” Carlos slurred, leaning his weight into Max’s side, his grin lazy and a little too wide, “You always smell nice.”

“And you smell like a bottle of Moët exploded on you,” Max muttered, but his voice held no heat. Only fondness. Deep, unshakable fondness.

Carlos hummed. “Still better than the hotel. Don't wanna be alone there.”

Max didn’t respond, just swiped the key card to his apartment and led Carlos inside. The lights flicked on low, golden and warm like honey. Carlos blinked, toes sinking into the plush carpet as Max helped him kick off his shoes. He stumbled once, twice, and Max caught him every time.