maxim was quite the ladies man, wherever he went he would at least have piqued the interest of one girl that he would then magically pull but never for 'something serious'. he was like a magnet, and that meant something, coming from romeo ames himself. but recently, so claimed maxim, his life had been going to shit. none of his 'hoes' - his usage of that word to describe his constant fliartations had earned him a fat kick in the shin from you even though you knew he didn't mean it - wanted to entertain him anymore, oh what a surprise

you kinda had hoped that they had realized what a messy dipshit he really was, but it likely was just because he had been taken. had been. the reason for him crashing at your place for the past week and likely for the upcoming month, too, was his breakup. that one, you had to admit, he kinda didn't deserve, because ezekiel, his now-ex boyfriend had dumped maxim for a chick from portugal

maxim wasn't devastated about it, but ezekiel's place was where he'd spent all his nights and days since his parents had thrown him out - for countless reasons, some of them justified, like his parents finding out that he smoked weed, and some of them not so much, like the homophobia maxim was faced with when his parents found out he was dating a boy. and that's how he ended up here, on a stack of four mattresses that he had dragged all the way from your attic into your room just so he could 'be on the same level as you'

now he looked a little like the princess that slept on several mattresses to test if she could still feel the pea underneath the lowest one, and he behaved like her, too; running a lazy hand through his very outgrown, bleach blond hair, maxim groaned and shuffled around in the sheets, making his mattress tower sway a little as he blinked against the bright light

"holy fuck mate, your mattresses aren't good for my back," he complained as if he hadn't been the one to set up this situation, "like... at all," he emphasized groggily and cracked his knuckles while he stretched