Last Match Of The Season. The Game Rarely Ever Comes Down To This. Max Knows Charles Is Going To Be In

Last match of the season. The game rarely ever comes down to this. Max knows Charles is going to be in his head, always is, before a match. They play West Ham today. Fate isn't entirely in their hands, if Man City wins against Liverpool, they will be second. If they tie or lose, they win. He knows Charles hates that. He knows in his heart, Charles will win. Richmond will win.

"Will you be there?"

Max blinks the sleep out of his eyes, Max is always there. He has loved this sport before Charles. He has loved Richmond longer.

"Of course."

Why are you asking? hangs in the air. Charles tip toes around it, refolding the same shirt thrice. Today, Max will be patient. He tries to be, always. Charles rarely ever leaves him wanting. He gives and he gives without asking. For him, Max will wait. Always.

"If we don't-" his mouth clicks shut, Max wants to pull Charles back into the bed.

"If we don't win, will you still kiss me?"

Max frowns at him, "I will, of course, always kiss you."

"No." He shakes his head,

Then again before sitting at the foot of the bed.

"In the audience, at the railings." He stops the abuse on the shirt in his hand, resting it on Max's duvet covered feet, "If I come to you, will you kiss me? Even if we don't win."