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"Dude, why do you always do that?"

He tugged softly at his lip ring with his teeth. "What?"

Bryan flicked his short platinum blonde bangs from his eyes. "Stare at him."

"Who?" Max asked innocently, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.

"You know who I'm talking about dumb ass. Ronnie!"

"I do not!"

"Whatever, man. Hey, when you wanna admit that you want to do Ronnie up the ass, I'm here for ya, buddy."

Max slugged him in the arm as hard as he could, but couldn't help the smile forming at his lips. "Fuck you, dude."

"No, not /me. Ron-nie/." Bryan emphasized, using his hands as he laughed.

Max shook his head. There was no use in fighting it. Or denying it for that matter. He was sure at this point that everyone in the band knew of his crush on Ronnie Radke, his best friend. Well, all that is except for Ronnie.

At least he hoped so...



Another interview and Max desperately tried not to stare but, fuck, it was hard. The guys kept looking at him, as if they expected Max to suddenly jump up from his collapsible chair and pounce on Ronnie's lap.

Robert nudged Omar in the side and nodded over to Ronnie. "That's number twenty-seven," he whispered.

Omar held back his chuckle, trying to stay as composed as possible beneath the safety of his jacket hood. He and Robert had an ongoing bet as to how many times Ronnie said "like" in an interview. Though no money was involved it was always fun to harass Ronnie on, like, how many times he, like, said it.



Max sighed after he collapsed onto his bed. He kept thinking about what Bryan had said. Was it true? Was he gay? I mean, that would explain a lot, but he liked girls. Girls. Not guys. It was just one of those things were you really respect one another. He loved Ronnie. Sure, but not in that way.

His dreams would argue otherwise. Some nights his own voice would snap him out of a dead sleep because it was so loud and more times than not, it would be Ronnie's name escaping his lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck, fuck!" He tugged at his hair and let out an aggravated grunt. "This can't be happening. It can't."



"Hey, where's Max?" Ronnie scanned the room, before giving up and shrugging his shoulders. "I swear it feels like he's avoiding me."

"Nah, man. He's just trying to figure out his fee-"

Bryan shot Robert a death glare before giving Ronnie a more smoothed over version of the truth. "Max is just going through some..." He paused, thinking of an appropriate answer that Ronnie would be satisfied with. "Stuff."

"Oh."

Robert and Omar nodded accordingly.

"Well, I'm gonna go find him. I need to talk to him anyway."

Omar waved Ronnie off as he got up from the couch. "Good luck."



"Max? You in here?"

"Uh...yeah. One sec," Max replied from behind the bathroom door.

Max opened the door, steam showering out, as he pulled down his shirt over his slightly wet form.

"Can we talk?" Ronnie questioned, flopping down onto Max's bed.

He gulped down hard and crawled to the opposite end of the mattress. "S-sure," Max stumbled.

Ronnie leaned back against the head board and let out a sigh. "You've been acting weird lately. I don't get it. You always tell me when something's up. Why don't you feel you can come to me, Max? I thought we had that kind of relationship, you know, one that we can be honest with each other in." Ronnie looked towards him, an unsettling worried emotion dancing in the soft mahogany of his eyes. "We are friends aren't we?"

Max scooted closer to him and dropped his gaze down to the comforter around them. "I... I can't," he finished sorrowfully, fingering the intricate pattern on the sheet.

Ronnie brought his hand beneath Max's chin, lifting it up. "Try," he said softly.

This was weird. Ronnie never acted like this. Usually if Max didn't want to talk about something, he just left it alone. He'd rather Max just come to him and tell him then have to wreck his brain over what over exaggerated issue he was blowing out of proportion this time.

"[Insert band member name here] is being a bitch."

"My bass is being mean to me."

"My damn eyeliner keeps fucking smudging."

"Who the fuck ate my Lunchables!?"

"I'm bored."

"Does anyone know where I put my [insert random article of clothing here]?"

"No." Max shook his head and proceeded to get off the bed.

Ronnie grasped him by his shoulders and rolled him over so that Max was on his back with him on top. "No?" The words dripped from his lips in the most beautifully sexy tone. Unintentionally? Maybe.

"No!" Max repeated, this time shouting it as Ronnie took hold of his wrists, pinning them down into the mattress forcefully. Although the position they were in was a little hard not to enjoy Max attempted to stay calm.

"Fine then. Don't say anything, you... jackass." Ronnie chuckled, leaning down so his lips nearly touched Max's gauged earlobe. Ronnie blew into his ear, causing Max's hips to thrust up out of surprise.

"Dammit Ronnie!" Max yelled. "Get the fuck off me!" He struggled beneath him, squirming to get free.

"No! Fucking tell me!" Ronnie gripped Max's wrists tighter in sequence with pressing his weight fully on top of him while bracing Max's wiggling body firmly with his thighs.

Max grunted and gave up trying to buck Ronnie off of him. "I'm still not telling you," he added stubbornly. "You can't make me."

A devilish smile paraded across his lips as his face loomed in closer on Max's. Their lips connected. Max's breath hitched in his throat as he realized what was going on. The brief kiss ended abruptly as Ronnie lifted himself off Max, a look of regret stamped across his face.

He released Max from his grip and threw his hands over his face. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I don't know wha-"

Max fisted Ronnie's shirt pulling him back down and crashed his lips against his before he had a chance to finish his sentence. Ronnie reciprocated, moaning softly against Max's pink tinted lips. Ronnie drug his tongue across Max's bottom lip, lingering across the silver ring.

Max brought his hands up around Ronnie's back, trailing his fingers beneath his shirt and against the curvature of his spine. Ronnie shuddered at the touch and groaned a little louder than he would have liked.

Ronnie sat back up and smiled. "Well, that went better than I thought. Bryan was right."

A sheen of panic splashed across Max's face. "Wait. What? Bryan said something to you?" He asked, leaning on his forearms.

"Well, yeah. He told me that you probably had a thing for me, but I didn't believe him at first."

"Shit." He murmured, dragging his fingers through his thick black hair.

"He always told me that he wished you'd just come out with it already. Bryan's pretty impatient."

Max just looked at him with a large question mark etched into his features.

Ronnie sighed and tried to explain. "Bryan and I are fucking." Point blank.

Max's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that... When Bryan came up to me asking if I liked you... he said that I could come to him."

"Yeah, come to him, so he could watch."

"WHAT?!"