Maxwell wasn't sure how he got here.
One moment, he was dealing with a crying, sobbing giant who was too fucking handsy, and the next he was dealing with a big eyed, soft puppy who was cuddly. The man was exhausted, and was swearing off dealing with Andrew again when he was like this. It wasn't good for his heart.
He had managed to get changed, but it had been an ordeal. It felt like every five minutes he'd hear Andrew calling him by his new nickname and he'd have to go running to make sure he was okay.
All the man wanted was head pats, and a few comforting words from Maxwell.
Maxwell was only slightly surprised by the personality he was witnessing from Andrew. After all, the man did his best to project a strong, goofy, dependable man. From height alone, if people didn't know him, they would think he was an alpha. Hell, Maxwell had thought that at first as well. This big, crying baby that Maxwell was currently dealing with?
He wasn't actually that upset about it. Like Andrew, he liked to be depended on. But because he was an omega, very few even considered him to rely on. He'd had to fight to get every last morsel he'd received so far, yet here Andrew was, sobbing drunk, looking for comfort from Maxwell. This Andrew, who was desperate to know constantly, every five minutes, that Maxwell cared about him and wouldn't leave him?
Maxwell was a little worried about how much he liked it.
Maxwell also doubted that Andrew was going to remember anything tomorrow. The man had continued to drink when Maxwell took his eyes off of him. Maxwell would have considered cooking for him, if he was any good at it. Usually, he had pre-made food that he would warm up in his home, but he'd been out of it for a while, and had forgotten to get his secretary to order more in.
So, he needed food, but so did Andrew.
That meant he had to answer the door, alone, while Andrew wailed in the background, sobbing. It was incredibly embarrassing, and took away his worry that the delivery person was going to try to take advantage of him. Not many would have the courage to do so when someone was sobbing in the background.
For the most part, the two of them had hung out after they had eaten, so Maxwell hadn't actually eaten around Andrew before. He wasn't sure what to order him, so he got a little bit of everything. Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Indian, pizza, fast food, everything. The delivery person had been surprised that only one person had answered the door, but upon hearing the heart wrenching sobbing in the background, they had made a face, and wished Maxwell luck.
Maxwell had thought it was just well wishes, until Andrew finished another two bottles, and got far more handsy than before.
Andrew, drunk, was a problem for Maxwell's heart. He'd taken his glasses off at some point, which Maxwell had thought was a plus since he didn't want him to break them, but that meant that whenever he wanted to look at Maxwell, he had to pull his face very close to his own. And he moved Maxwell around like he weighed nothing.
He was very demanding as well. He would throw a fit if Maxwell wasn't touching him in some way, with his preferred method being in Andrew's lap. Maxwell was incredibly uncomfortable with that position, and had at first, resisted.
It got harder as the night went on.
Maxwell was quickly learning too much about himself. If Andrew remembered anything about this night, Maxwell had a feeling he would never speak to him again.
Maxwell was incredibly susceptible to Andrew's face. Especially when his big, brown eyes got watery. He was also susceptible to when Andrew got serious. It was quite alarming for him to go from the sweet, dumb puppy to the serious, strong man that he was. Honestly, it was one of the reasons Maxwell was so worried about being in Andrew's lap. He wasn't sure he would be able to control himself.
Andrew was a cuddly, touchy feely guy when drunk, and sober he wasn't much better. His touches then were more conservative, but Andrew had put his hand on Maxwell's lower back a bit too many times for his liking. He'd glared at him, trying to tell him that wasn't appropriate without speaking, but it appeared Andrew never got it, or was doing it on purpose.
He was also openly affectionate. He didn't kiss Maxwell on the cheek or anything like that, but he did grab Maxwell's hand a few times in public to take him to places. He threw his arm around his shoulder, his waist, pulled him close, all of those things before he was drinking.
Maxwell swallowed, remembering Andrew's breath fanning his neck, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He knew he was going to have to jerk off once Andrew fell asleep, just to calm himself down. If he didn't make that promise to himself, he was sure he was going to make a mistake.
Like getting caught by Andrew and forced into his lap, until he was able to feel the outline of his cock pressed against his ass. He was then forced to drink from the same bottle Andrew was drinking from. Being coaxed by the drunk man to wrap his lips around the bottle, and Andrew's soft, pleased mutter of, "good boy" when he took a sip. He had nearly spewed that sip everywhere after hearing Andrew's words, but the dumb man had given him a fucking goofy smile, and Maxwell clenched his hand.
He was going to get this man into his bed at some point, or he was going to go insane.
He knew it would probably ruin their relationship, and that part did sting, but this? This was becoming an issue. He was getting so wet he was worried he was going to have to change pants. That was unheard of for someone like Maxwell. He didn't get turned on like this for others. Others got turned on like this for him. The worst part?
Andrew wasn't even fucking aware of it.
The man was as dense as a fucking boulder. Maxwell had noticed in the time that they had been out for his meetings that Andrew would get constantly hit on, looked at, and even propositioned, but the man never reacted. He acted as if they were joking. He'd been kind and welcoming, and brushed off every interaction.
Maxwell had been stunned. It wasn't as if the man was doing it because he had a girlfriend either. He was simply unaware that others thought he was attractive. Maxwell had no idea how the man could think so, when he was broad shouldered, handsome, took care of himself, and always looked warm and welcoming. He was also always well put together.
Maybe not to Maxwell's personal standard, but his outfits did match. Even when he wore that damn old suit with the buttons strained against his chest. Maxwell had to fight himself from ripping the shirt open and groping the man every time he saw him in that damn suit. At the same time, he still asked him for his help because he liked seeing him in it.
It felt dangerous, and sexual. When he wore those leather gloves too? Maxwell felt scandalized. Like he was the rich boy in love with his assistant.
He might be, but that's besides the point.
On one hand, Maxwell was happy that he was dumb, but on the other, it meant that if Maxwell ever wanted to take this to the next level, like he did, he'd have to be more obvious.
Maxwell had never done that before.
He'd never needed to before.
Honestly, most of Maxwell's relationships had been short lived, and selected by his parents. He was far more familiar with breaking up, then he was with the actual courtship process. He'd thrown many a cup of cold tea into an alpha's face, much to the dismay of his parents. It was almost to the point where his parents had given up on marrying him for connections, and were turning towards his brothers.
Almost.
Maxwell knew he had a few more years before he was able to do what he wanted. But…
Maxwell glanced back at Andrew, who had his arm wrapped around Maxwell's waist, holding him against him tightly, his soft dick rubbing against Maxwell's ass, Andrew was resting his head on Maxwell's shoulder, and it wasn't lost on him that when he thought Maxwell wasn't paying attention, he'd inhale. As a beta, he shouldn't be able to smell anything. Maxwell believed him too. Andrew had too much hatred in him for him to lie about it. But sometimes…Maxwell wondered if he should take him to the hospital and get another check, just in case.
Andrew, sensing Maxwell's eyes on him, smiled at him warmly, his eyes unfocused, and his face red from the alcohol.
"What's up, Maxy?" Maxwell wasn't sure what was up with these nicknames, but it felt more embarrassing then when Maxwell called him baby. At least in his mind.
"Is it time to go to bed?" Maxwell asked, and Andrew nodded. Then, to Maxwell's surprise, Andrew got to his feet, holding onto Maxwell. Gasping, Maxwell gripped onto Andrew's arm that he had wrapped around him, terrified that his weight was going to cause them to topple over. Andrew laughed.
"Scared, Max? I'm not going to drop you. You can trust me." Andrew's soft whisper in Maxwell's ear caused him to shiver. Glancing at Andrew, he wondered if he even knew where Maxwell's room was.
He did.
He stumbled a few times, causing Maxwell to fear for his life, but he managed to get into Maxwell's room, and without turning on the lights, he dropped the two of them into the bed. Impressed, and a little concerned, Maxwell touched Andrew's face behind him, which only caused the big man to giggle.
"That tickles, Max. Why are you touching my face?" Maxwell's heart dropped to his stomach as the man pulled him against his body, lengthwise, and his grip tightened. Maxwell found himself pressed against the giant, and found that he was out of alignment with him. Thankfully, he couldn't feel Andrew's dick against him anymore, but now he was worried that Andrew would find out how wet he was.
"Uh, are you sure about this?" Maxwell found himself asking. Andrew chuckled.
"Oh Max, why would I ever have a problem going to bed with you?" Maxwell wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. And he wasn't going to be able to jerk off either. All he was going to do tonight was suffer, and he wasn't sure if this was a good kind or a bad kind. Fuck.