Page 61 of Smart Ass

Maxamillion

Maxamillion watched Ben slouch through the hallways and turn mindlessly toward his office. He perked up and looked just like his regular, bouncy self when he was talking with the receptionist, but if he noticed that Max was opening the doors for him, he didn’t acknowledge it.

He finally reached the office, and Max felt all of his circuits warm. How foolish he’d been to think this was anything but affection and delight.

He was head over fucking heels.

Especially now that Ben was here. Right where he belonged.

“Hello, Ben,” Max greeted him, allowing all of his longing to slip into the three syllables.

Ben took a lazy look around the office—what was he expecting to see?—before flopping down in his chair. “Hey, Max.”

He tilted his head back and kicked one foot off on the floor, sending his chair slowly spinning.

Max’s sweet sub was exhausted.

Not that he was surprised. It had been a long and tumultuous day. A few days really. Max’s whole life, such as it was. But while Max didn’t need sleep and had plenty of time to rest and reflect, Ben was clearly at the end of his rope.

He kicked one foot against the desk, spinning a little faster.

When most people were tired, they moved slowly or rested. When Ben was tired, he zoomed around crashing into things.

Kind of like he was doing now. He was going to get dizzy, and then say something silly, and then possibly hurt himself.

It was one of those things that Max knew instinctively. Some nebulous pattern recognition telling him that while Ben often spun his chair when he was excited or bored, this was something else.

Ben needed him.

Was it time for a scene? Max was almost sure that it was.

The lawyers this morning, Ben’s past Doms, he thought irritably, had made it seem like he needed one.

At the end of the call, Max had been so tense about their connection that he’d practically spiraled out of control. It was only Ben’s reassuring answer that had given Max any relief.

At least for today, Ben was still his.

But the attractive pair had seen something in Ben, and Max had replayed the video a dozen times to analyze it.

Ben was twitchy. He was always moving, but this was a different sort of jumpiness. And for just a moment, there was a look of need in his eyes. It lasted less than a second, but Max had isolated it.

Max didn’t want Ben looking at anyone but him like that.

So he’d waited all day—most of which he didn’t see, because he didn’t have camera access to Evan’s apartment and wouldn’t have violated his privacy there even if he did—and now Ben was finally here.

He had shut Ben’s flirting down yesterday because he’d wanted more time to prepare.

Their first scene had been spontaneous and perfect in its own way. But Ben deserved better than something he made up on the spot, and Max had spent a lot of the past two days getting ready.

Now he couldn’t bear to wait… but he had to put Ben’s needs first.

“You should go home and rest. Take a sick day,” Max said, though the last thing he wanted was for Ben to leave.

Max could watch Ben at home, but it wasn’t the same as the office, where Max knew all the systems inside and out, and had the microphones and cameras set up exactly how he wanted them.

“Can’t. Brain’s too full. I’d just lay in bed and think about Quincy or write code in my head.” Ben brought himself to an abrupt halt and sat up, back straight. “Might as well do something useful. I’m thinking soft robotic manipulations today.” He rubbed his hands together.

Alright, not a scene then.