Chapter Text
Max was nothing if not a man of his word.
At the cost of saving the life of one of his bullies, he’d seemingly tarnished his own.
It hadn’t all been a lost cause. Tank was significantly nicer to him now, at least.
Even so, while Max was seen as a hero after the disastrous accident that nearly engulfed half of the competitors in flames, the X-Games still proclaimed Bradley as the winner of the finale— despite all of the mess that took place.
It was all horribly unfair. Bradley’s silver tongue had talked his way out of trouble with Tank, using their friendship since high school as leverage to push his narrative that: “I was doing it for us… for the brotherhood!”
And like the mindless drones that they were, those morons believed every lie the Gamma Mu Mu fraternity house president weaved.
Bradley had lost some of his popularity after his actions were broadcasted and scrutinized, but overall, he had been able to win it back fairly quickly. Becoming a champion tended to have that effect.
Max had already considered leaving once before when his father began to act as a burden on his social life. Packing his bags and skipping town wasn’t a far stretch from his list of solutions.
In fact, Max was tempted to transfer schools out of the injustice of it all, but alas, it was more cowardly to run rather than to just suck it up and face the consequences of their wager.
As unfair as it was.
-
“Catch, Max!” Bradley snarked from where he stood, looking over with a wide smirk as he chucked a used rag towards the man-in-question’s face.
Max caught it before it made impact, of course, yet he did not look pleased in the slightest. A grimace grew on his lips. He held it out with two fingers, nose shriveling.
“Did you even break a sweat? Your ‘warmups’ are just my morning stretches.” He stated in a grumble, tossing the towel away into a basket with some of the other dirtied laundry that had accumulated over the course of the practice.
Bradley glared— a common sight by now. Max doubted that there was another man alive that had bore the brunt of Bradley’s rage quite the way he had these last couple weeks.
‘Rage’… To be honest, Bradley’s vengeance was little more than preschool bullying. If stinky towels and the occasional spit ball was all that the man had in mind, then Max could deal with that easily. He’d handled much worse when he was a teenager.
“Fetch us some water, won’t you? As much as I’m sure you’d like to sit here and ogle… we are growing quite thirsty-“
Before Bradley could even finish the full command, Max was hopping up and rushing away to fulfill it. Not because he liked being bossed around, in fact his knuckles were practically white with how hard his fists were clenched.
No, he just loved the excuse to get away. He was going to take his sweet time fetching that water.
And he’d make sure it was lukewarm.
Sometimes, it was the little victories.
-
When he returned with his arms full of water bottles, enough to supply the team, he stopped right before he could enter eyeshot of the others. The boys had finished their practice, and now seemed to be idly chatting by the benches.
“— and the Kappa Pi sorority promised that their girls would be there too. I imagine that it’ll be a full house tonight, boys.” Announced Bradley in a voice so assured that felt like grating teeth on chalk by now. Bradley always took on that dumb “buttery” tone when he spoke, like he was an inexperienced theatre kid playing the role of some suave player. It irked Max.
Max stepped forward, and Bradley immediately snapped his mouth shut as he turned to face him.
“Finally decided to return? I thought I was about to pass out from dehydration.”
Good lord, did this guy ever shut up?
Max only managed by some miracle to ignore the temptation to chuck a bottle at Bradley’s stupidly perfect teeth.
-
“I say you ditch ‘em! It’s not like you’re in a legally binding contract.” Bobby supplied helpfully as they sat around at a small diner latter that day. Max had arrived in a poor mood.
Bobby took a long slurp from his strawberry milkshake, then tipped back the glass to lick out the whipped cream that had sunk to the bottom.
As he did this, P.J. chimed in.
“Well I say you use this to your advantage.” He spoke as he dragged a fry through a splotch of ketchup. He then popped it into his mouth.
“How do you suggest that? By going and selling Bradley’s sweat rags out on the street for some extra cash?” Max entertained with a dry laugh, shaking his head. It’s not like he hadn’t noticed the groups of girls that would come to the practices just to watch the fraternity show off their “athleticism”.
Personally, Max didn’t get the appeal. Bradley was no where near his league in terms of skill. It was all so superficial, it nearly made him nauseous. He was tired of seeing those assholes flaunt off their shirtless bodies for all of their adoring fans.
Bobby shook his head as he finished cleaning the inside of the glass with his tongue, leaning back now as he faced the other two.
“No, no.. He’s got a point. You’re close to them. You should take some sick revenge.” He grinned, leaning in closer as though he was about to hatch a devious plan. Max gave an amused smile at their antics.
“I heard through the grapevine that our dear president is throwing a party tonight. Invite only. Apparently, he’s going to have the best hotties there.” Bobby whispered, looking over his shoulder in a paranoid manner.
Max stared at him skeptically. “What’s that got to do with me?”
Bobby whipped his head back. “Sneak us in. We can crash and burn their party!..” He hissed, eyes widening as his grin grew.
Max looked between P.J. and Bobby now. P.J. seemed hesitant at first, yet he was quickly considering and accepting it. Within seconds, he looked completely on board with the idea.
Max tapped the counter as he thought. He soon came to a conclusion of his own.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
-
“Woah woah woah.. You ain’t allowed in, buddy.” One of the low tier frat bros spat at Max as he approached the entrance to the house. It was difficult to even hear what he said over the blaring music. It was so loud— he could hear it from two blocks down.
“Actually, I’m bringing back your laundry.” Max stated as he held up the basket in question. Inside were clean uniforms and fresh towels. Nothing suspicious in the slightest.
The member looked down at the basket, then back up at Max inquisitively. Finally, he shrugged and stepped to the side.
“In and out. No towel boys at the party.” He blurted as Max stepped through the threshold.
… and holy shit.
These parties really weren’t exaggerated.
Everything that could’ve possibly been going on what going on. Beer pong in the corner, shots at the kitchen island, and students dancing to the music with no room left for a Bible.
The best part though? Max surveyed the area and couldn’t see any signs of Bradley nor his main entourage anywhere.
Before he could get too caught up in the scene, Max turned and dashed away from the front room. He was on a mission. He didn’t stop until he reached one of the bedrooms located near the back of the house. It was (thankfully) vacant. He rushed to the wall where a couple windows were. After brushing back the curtains, he gave a slight grunt as he struggled momentarily to push open the windows. Eventually, they clicked.
“Took you long enough!” Bobby scoffed lightheartedly, wasting no time as he climbed on P.J.’s head and rolled into the bedroom. He and Max then turned around to yank P.J. into the room as well.
Once all three of the boys were safely inside, Max shut the window again as they caught their breaths. He had already abandoned the laundry basket in the corner.
As he turned back to the other two, he was met with a carton of eggs being held out to him.
Max raised an eyebrow.
Bobby looked disappointed, before simply rolling his eyes.
“Egging a house is too obvious, soo… while everyone is distracted by the party— we’re going to hide these everywhere. It’ll be a nightmare to clean.”
Max gawked at them. P.J. shifted from foot to foot.
“It was his idea.” He insisted. Bobby shoved one carton into Max’s hands. He looked all too proud of himself.
“Oh, you’re evil..” Max shook his head, feeling torn between being both appalled and impressed by Bobby’s genius. Rotten eggs… By the time they finally began to stink, it would be too late and they would be long gone.
“And you’re my accomplice.” Bobby said with a bow. He shoved his own carton into one of the side pockets of his ridiculously baggy jeans. P.J. hid his as well.
It was dark enough, and everybody was already so drunk, that Max questioned if they even needed to hide the evidence.
“Go team,” Max announced. They all smirked at eachother, before then turning to exit the room and enter the party.
Before he left the bedroom— Max made sure to stuff an egg in Bradley’s uniform.
-
It had gone smoothly so far. He’d lost contact with P.J. and Bobby early on, but they all seemed to be fairing just fine regardless. Max focused on the mission, though he would be lying if he said that he didn’t occasionally join in on some of the fun. It was weird that he hadn’t seen Bradley all night— but he simply took that as a sign of good luck. The heavens above were on their side as well.
It was growing late now. With his last egg, he planted it beneath the sink in one of the main bathrooms.
He washed his hands, a light and fluffy feeling in his chest forming at the mere thought of all of the chaos that would unfold once the stench began to unleash its evil onto the fraternity.
Finally, some justice.
After shaking his hands dry, he turned to leave.
The slight buzz in his head matched with the high he felt from their prank had him feeling ready to head home and get a good night’s rest.
As he emerged from the bathroom however, he came face to face with Bradley.
… A very wasted Bradley by the looks of it.
His high disappeared immediately, replaced with a sense of fright. Oh this was bad… this was really bad. He couldn’t be caught here. He couldn’t…
Bradley looked out of it. Like… really out of it. The largest indicator was that he looked upon Max not with distaste but with..
.. relief?
Bradley’s shirt was practically wide open, buttons popped open at awkward locations. Max couldn’t tell if it was from an act to cool off or it was from the hands of another who clearly didn’t know how a shirt worked.
His meticulously styled hair was askew, disheveled and ruffled in silly angles. Had Max ever seen it so unruly before? Bradley looked like he just escaped a typhoon.
Lastly, he had at least four different lipstick colors all over him— staining everywhere from his face to the collar of his shirt.
Max bristled at this, his look of nervousness forming into a steely glare. Bradley was clearly no threat at the moment.
“.. Max?..” The president slurred out. It occurred now to Max that the man seemed almost alarmingly off balance. He swayed from side to side, his cheeks flushed an alarming, pink hue. His eyes were unfocused and hazy.
Despite being the trespasser in his situation, Max somehow felt compelled to ask Bradley what he was doing here. He was the one that seemed about ready to collapse in the corridor after all.
“Bathroom’s all yours.” Max eventually stated flatly. He went to shove past the other yet he was abruptly stopped.
He whipped his head in surprise, shocked to find Bradley clinging to him with both arms around wrapped around his body like it was the only trunk left to hold onto in a whirlwind.
Max just blinked at him. Bradley… willing touching him? Goddamn, how many drinks did the little bastard have?
“Get off—“ Max began as he started to shove away Bradley’s weak grasp.
“Hnghh… spiked… I was… mmm… the drink…” Bradley panted out, his hooded eyes struggling to stare forward at Max.
“..H.. Help.” He breathed heavily.
Now, Max was in a dilemma.
He could continue with dismantling himself from Bradley and then leave him here to be discovered by somebody who actually cared,
or
He could show human decency to a man who has done nothing but terrorize him since the moment he stepped foot onto campus.
As Bradley continued to hold onto him with a grip so fierce it equated to that a baby deer, Max glanced down the hallway. They were both pretty isolated from the party, and who knew what the next person who came down the corridor would think of a disarmed and heavily drugged Bradley? The man surely had a plethora of enemies.
Then again, what did Max care? Wasn’t he just egging his house from the inside moments ago?
No.. no, he was a better person than the asshole attached to him now. He knew Bradley would not do the same for him if their roles were reversed, even so, he found him reluctantly wrapping an arm around the man’s back as a support— alleviating some of the weight.
After this, he’d rush home and forget about it. He was still keen on revenge. This was just one detour.
“Alright. Where is your room, Brad?” He sighed.
“..Ah.. it’s… mmm… upstairs.” Bradley panted into his neck. Max cringed, before readjusting their position so that Bradley was at his side. He wanted as little contact as possible.
Holding him up only enough to support him, Max started to lead him forward in search of a staircase. There were many, he’d discovered.
They ascended in silence, an occasional groan or moan coming from Bradley to which Max fiercely ignored. They passed by a few couples making out in the shadows of the hall as well as on the steps. That seemed like a safety hazard, but who was Max to cast judgment?
It was laughably predictable to assume which room was Bradley’s. It was located at the very end, with two, ornate double-doors and a red rug leading out from it. The man truly thought of himself as a king.
With slight struggle as he fiddled with the doorknob, Max eventually got it open and led Bradley inside.
Bradley slumped against him, eyes fluttering as he struggled to keep them open. Max kicked the door shut behind them— not wanting for anybody to look in and get the wrong idea about what he was doing in the president’s bedroom.
“Don’t pass out now, or else I’ll leave you on the floor. Come on.” Max scoffed as he tugged Bradley along till they reached the kingsized bed. He let go of Bradley and let him tumble onto the mattress. It was truly pathetic how little effort it took.
Max stood at the bedside while the man adjusted himself.
From here, the music of the party was muffled out by the thick wooden doors. It was quiet enough that he could make out the soft whistle of the overhead fan.
Bradley turned on his side, staring up at max with bleary eyes. There was something unreadable about the way he was looking at Max… probably the drugs. His eyes were a deep blue— although at the moment they were worryingly dilated.
Max met his gaze, their eyes locking onto one another for several silent moments. Neither said anything, as though doing so would break the strange phenomena.
Max shook his head, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered what the hell was going on. He turned to leave, but he was stopped by a sniffle. It was hardly audible, and it sounded like it was stifled almost immediately… as though it had been a complete accident.
A.. sniffle?
From Bradley? No way..?
Confused, Max looked at him to see tears forming in those pretty eyes. He was chewing his lip, as though to prevent it from quivering. If he didn’t know anything better, he’d say that the man looked like he was trying to fight back his emotions. He almost looked upset with himself..
“Oh—.. hey, uh, are you okay?” Max asked in an unsure voice as he took a step closer. Bradley didn’t flinch back, but he did seem to tense up. Max wasn’t sure why he had decided to play therapist for a moment. The words had already escaped his lips though.
“Ugh.. I… I’m… fine, towel boy.” Bradley whispered, a hint of his usual defiant tone slipping in. Max’s confusion only thickened. Clearly, he wasn’t fine. It’s not like he gave a damn though. Bradley could sit here and sniffle all night for all Max cared. He had already gotten his Good Samaritan points for the night.
“Fine.. okay.” Max said awkwardly as he flexed and then relaxed his fingers over and over. He glanced around the room, unsure of what to do. They weren’t friends. Somebody else should be handling Bradley, not him. In fact, he should be going home now.
“I guess I’ll be heading out then—“
“Don’t.” Bradley said, and the sheer urgency of his voice gave Max pause. He couldn’t imagine it ever possibly being directed toward him of all people. Maybe Bradley really was out of his mind right now.
Max met his eyes again to see Bradley staring at him with something close to desperation. Truly, what was going on?.. Did he just believe that he had no better options to serve as his caregivers?
Max was responding before he could even process what the words meant: “I’ll stay then. What uh… what happened?”
He watched on with an air of curiosity. Bradley’s eye contact slowly fell as he considered the question. He visibly cringed, adjusting his open shirt as he recalled the memories.
“Just… a few girls gone wild, I guess…” He muttered under his breath as he shook his head. Max felt taken aback by the deliverance of his words. While they matched the usual snarky nature of Bradley’s comments, the tone was heavy. It was genuine. He lacked the pseudo “smooth” voice that he tended to put on. Oh… oh. Max’s features turned to concern.
“Oh my god.. wait— were you…” Max trailed off. Bradley’s look of shame was confirmation enough.
This surprised him, all things considered. He couldn’t picture Bradley as the type to be spiked and taken advantage of. He hated the guy, but nobody deserved that. At his own party too?..
Frowning, Max found himself taking a seat on the side of Bradley’s bed. The mattress sunk down slightly as he did so. Bradley didn’t seem to mind the company, only watching idly.
As bad as the thought was, he couldn’t help but feel boggled the by the gradual truth that he was uncovering. Wouldn’t most frat guys be like… thrilled? He knew that was wrong, but it didn’t fit the Bradley he knew to run away when jumped by a swarm of cute girls. If anything, Bradley always seemed to encourage them. When chicks flocked to him, he was always to sure to turn to Max to grin maliciously and make sure that he was witnessing—...
He was pulled from his thinking as nimble fingers reached out and interlocked with his own. He turned his head to see Bradley’s pulling his hand closer, slowly, as though Max’s hand was a wild animal that needed to handled with utmost patience and care.
Max let him, for some reason. He hated that he felt pity for the man. It’s whatever though, it’s not like he was in his right of mind at the moment.
As Max tried to make sense of the predicament, a knock echoed out from the door. He jumped slightly.
“Bradie?~ Are you in there?” A female voice wafted in, sweet and chipper. He couldn’t be certain, but Max was fairly certain he could make out a few other feminine voices murmuring outside as well.
He felt Bradley’s fingers tense and tighten around his, his chest suddenly rising and falling with a quicker pace than before.
Max’s expression hardened a fraction. He looked between Bradley and the door.
“He’s not here. Beat it!” He yelled back in the best disguised voice he could muster. Hopefully, they’d just assume he was some random partygoer using the president’s bedroom for his personal agenda and move on.
Judging by the lack of a response— they must’ve done just that.
Bradley pulled Max’s arm closer.
“Don’t… don’t… tell anybody about this. Okay?” He breathed out, tracing his fingers over Max’s hand as if keeping himself distracted by the task. He still wore an aura of shame. Guilt. It perplexed Max. He wondered how much of this Bradley would even recall the next day.
Max wouldn’t have told a soul anyways, too embarrassed by his own willingness to offer help to the bully to humiliate him for needing it in the first place.
“I won’t.” Max assured Bradley. He frowned gently.
“… Thank you..” Bradley muttered. He seemed to relax into the blankets, skin still burning against Max’s in a gesture that seemed far behind the realm of what their rivalry ought to entail.
“I’m not being your towel boy after tonight though.” Max stated. Bradley took several moments to compute that, eyes squinting. He then gave a single nod in understanding. Max was surprised that he didn’t try to fight him, even in his loopy state of mind. He’d been awfully argumentative whenever Max had brought it up in the past.
“Fair…” He grunted, eyes fluttering shut.
Max continued to watch him. Even now, the man was still frustratingly attractive. The soft light of the moon flooded in through the parted curtains, illuminating his handsome features. His messy hair did little to hide his looks. It angered Max. How could such a beautiful man be such a horrible human being? He could see why so many students fawned over him..
“I’ll… mmm… miss having you around though…” Bradley mumbled sleepily. His body sunk down completely.
Max’s eyebrows rose at that, but before he could ask a follow up question— Bradley was fast asleep.