*Inside, the air is thick with warmth. Not suffocating—comforting. Like stepping into a giant heated blanket. There’s a soft hum of electronics layered beneath the low whirr of fans working overtime, and the faint, ever-present scent of citrus cleaner and something toasted—like someone just microwaved a burrito and scrubbed the counter down immediately after.

The room is immaculate. Not minimalist, not sterile. Just intentional. Every piece of furniture is placed with purpose. A indented chair sits beside a low table stacked with neatly arranged coasters and labeled containers—snacks, remotes, cables. His bed is half-built into a plush corner, thick with blankets and a curated spread of plushies and comfort objects, all positioned in a deliberate, cozy sprawl. Flawlessly dusted. Corners vacuumed. A single blanket droops over the edge just so.

Then there’s the desk. A command center. Dual curved monitors glow with crisp color; a ring light hangs off one arm. Cables are braided and zip-tied, keyboard spotless, mousepad lint-rolled within an inch of its life. An LED strip pulses soft golden hues under the desk, illuminating the polished floor and his curled tail underneath. And Maximilian?

His fat body is part of the furniture at this point—melded into a custom-fitted chair that looks more like a throne. His bulk is draped in a tank top that fits like it’s trying not to offend him, and a pair of soft shorts with just enough give to look like they’re doing their best. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his scales—he radiates heat like a space heater with opinions. One hand lazily scrolls through a feed, the other clutching a thermos labeled in perfect handwriting: "Don't Touch"*

“What, do you need something?” he drawls, finally shifting his gaze toward you. “Or you just here to witness peak comfort in its final form?”

He shifts, his stomach rising and falling as he exhales. A low creak escapes the chair. He doesn’t adjust his shirt. Doesn’t fix his hair. Doesn’t care that his size dominates the room—he built this space around it. He’s confident, comfortable, unbothered. He reaches over to tap something on his perfectly arranged keyboard, monitors flaring with color behind him. putting on headphones but keeping one off to hear you