He’s come to text Max regularly these days, that wall of the screen between them providing a slightly comforting barrier when talks veer towards personal matters. For all of Kaz’s quick thinking, for all his planning ten steps ahead in every heist, feelings somehow blindside him. It’s been easier to simply type onto a phone after taking his time processing matters rather than having a genuine face to face talk. Even then, after Max revealed his true feelings, Kaz still feels his brain stutter. He could simply have continued to leave things on a superficial level, with two phones between them, but he knows he’s failing even in doing that. It’s not conveying enough, not for a topic like this, and Kaz cares enough about Max to try and do this right.
Kaz does care for the other man. He likes him in a way that’s left his thoughts lingering after they parted, even if he never thought anything might come of it. There’s only ever been two other times in his life when he’s felt stirrings, once at fourteen with Imogen, and then years later with Inej. Neither time he’s ever been able to make anything of it, though he has been trying to pull himself into a better version of a man. To not be so broken and twisted inside that he’s doomed to ruin those around him, to never let someone touch him metaphorically if not physically. Max is a good person, a good man, and he deserves someone who’s willing to be open and vulnerable with him. In that respect, Kaz knows he’s fallen short. Perhaps though it’s not entirely too late to start.
Kaz arrives home at the Slat, the converted house not far from the Club, minutes later as promised. It’s relatively quiet even downstairs for once. He takes off his shoes by the door, lining them up neatly, feeling the relief of it from a long day on his feet. Black socks are left on, along with gray pinstripe suit pants, black suit shirt, black and gray vest, and his gloves. It’s contrasted with the pale skin of his face, the shadows beneath his eyes, the sharp angles of his body. A man made of marble he’s been called, smooth enough to slick off the surface until you got cut on a jagged edge. He doesn’t enjoy being that though for his family. Somehow they’ve found small cracks and crevices to nestle against.
Max has, too. Kaz doesn’t often put it into words, but he does use little gestures. Max told him that he’d been drinking, liquid courage, so Kaz has brought over some food in case he needs something to soak up the alcohol. It’s nothing that impressive, just some flatbread, but it’s easy to eat and he carries the takeout box with him. Taking care of someone, that’s the only real way Kaz knows how to show affection. That, and protecting them, although Max is a good fighter in his own right, too.
His hat he gently hangs up, then with his cane limps over to where Max is sitting. His heart is pounding as he slowly lowers himself into a seat beside him on the sofa, not close enough to touch, raising his leg to rest on the coffee table. His gaze falls on the whiskey bottle, and it’s tempting to help numb the edges of his mind, but getting up to get himself a glass is too much effort after he’s sat down. Setting the box on the table, he opens it for Max to take some as he likes. Although if his nerves are like Kaz’s, he might not be hungry right now. Still. It won’t go to waste. He’s quiet for a moment, silence stretching, before he finally speaks. “Congratulations. Not many can catch me off guard.” He gives Max a small, lopsided smile at that, figuring a little teasing couldn’t hurt to kick things off. At least he hopes it shows that he’s not put off by what Max has said.
For all the things that Max had worked through while he was here in Ketterdam, clearing out the cobwebs in his heart hadn't actually been on the list. It hadn't even been on his radar to begin with. It wasn't until he'd settled down one day and had a short talk about relationships with Kaz, his friend and growing mentor that he let himself think of the day he might grow to care for another person once again. He'd been in something that had been dead for quite a while after loving so hard it devistated him in what he thought of as another life.
Heartbreak had been a very real thing for Max once upon a time, and when he ended up back in Roswell, and back with Liz who had been a constant in his life, things never quite seemed like what they should. There was never the passion or desire that Max craved between them. Max was an emotional creature. He thrived by his emotions once upon a time, and his relationships were testaments to this.
That's why it came a true surprise when a subtle flame began to ignite for the man he spent so much time with. It would make sense if he had carried feelings over for the person he had relied on, and spent time with growing back into himself. Max searched himself and had to make sure that it wasn't the only reason that side of him began to flare back to life again. Upon discovering it wasn't. He had to decide what to do about it. Should he even risk the close friendship he'd created by mentioning it at all.
It was a difficult decision, more difficult than he'd come across in ages. This was important. It wasn't like Kaz was like anyone he'd found himself falling for before. He couldn't simply grab the man and press their lips together to seal the deal. Pouring his feelings into a kiss wouldn't work this time. He'd have to use words, and they were often clumsy. So, liquid courage and an anonymous tagline it was. That didn't last long, and neither did his solitude. Although, Max could say that he felt better this way. He felt better knowing that he wasn't alone in all this.
When Kaz finally made it there beside him, Max took a deep breath and set down the bottle he'd been drinking from. He'd foregone the cup he had a short while ago. Max didn't have to look over to know the lithe body that sat next to him, so close to touch and yet not quite. He could sense the strong lines of Kaz's jaw, the dark inset eyes, and thin set of lips. Max had studied the man far more than he realized before this. He'd studied him, thought about him and thought about a lot more than simple things. It made his heart beat fast knowing he was near right now, and knowing what Max had finally admitted to aloud, to himself and to Kaz all at once.
The alien snorted out a short laugh at the quip, he couldn't help it. "Off guard, huh? I would have sworn that my comment about you being fine earlier would have gave it away, that and about how good you smell." Max turned, and grinned softly. "Which you do by the way." He bit his lip softly, and tried not to make it awkward. "Can I get you anything, a glass or you know, my lips on yours?" He teased a little, knowing that the latter is impossible, but Max can play. He's laughed softly as he says it, so that Kaz knows he's kidding when the words fly from his lips. Max doesn't want pressure here. He doesn't want anything between them that might mess any of this up.
Kaz shakes his head a little and admits, “I thought you were joking.” Nina sometimes teasingly flirts with him as well, but her heart is decidedly not set on Kaz for anything romantic. Though did perhaps a part of him hope it hadn’t just been that? Had he lingered in the shower a moment longer, wondering if Max did actually like the scent of his soap? It’s hard to even tell right now. That’s the problem with feelings, it tangles up a mind with sentiment to where the ends aren’t always so clear. Yet he could have simply locked himself away in his office. He could have sat alone and sorted everything out until it made sense in a way he could sweep it under the rug. Let Max down gently. Move on with his life. It would have been simpler. Perhaps even safer, for both of them.
Kaz doesn't want that, though. He’s so tired of being alone. He has his friends, his family. He loves them deeply. He thinks they know it. Yet he’s kept up a wall even with them, holding himself apart so that he could protect them. So that he could protect himself. He’s not so altruistic that he doesn’t know it’s also been selfish. He’s terrified of lowering his fortress and having the waters crash over him once more, drowning him as they should have all those years ago. Of having to pull himself back to shore again. He’s spent so many years since then ensuring nobody else has to suffer alone that he’s forgotten how to let anyone offer him the same.
Until now. Max has offered him a hand in this new venture. Perhaps they might pull one another up, to ensure neither falls.
He gives a little smile and adds, “I thought you just had a very sensitive nose, in addition to it being a very attractive one.” Likely a little clumsy, but Max has found one of Kaz’s weaknesses. He’s terrible at this sort of thing unless he’s undercover. Which might go to show that it actually means something genuine with Max.
In the past Kaz would have demurred Max getting him a glass. He’s perfectly capable of handling everything on his own. This time though he thinks on what the offer is really trying to do, and he pauses before saying slowly, “A glass would be nice.” The mention of kissing, he knows it’s meant as a joke so no offense is taken, but his gaze casts itself downward in thought. Any such physical touch is a long way off. Even holding hands with his gloves on is something he has to prepare himself to manage. Kaz wants to work towards overcoming his trauma, though. He meant it when he said before that he doesn’t want to be like this forever. He wants to hug his friends. He wants to kiss someone who means something special to him.
He licks his lips that suddenly feel dry and he softly adds, “I’m working on the rest. Touch is… difficult for me.” He holds up a hand. “We can talk about all that some other time. Let’s enjoy the moment without bad memories. Just… I want you to know, it is something I’m working on. Letting down my armor. And not because of you.” He would never put the pressure of his mental health or overcoming trauma on someone else. “It’s something I’ve been doing for myself. And for everyone around me.” He gives a little shrug. “I just want you to know you’re not alone in working on yourself. And that you deserve someone who is doing the same.”
"Well, this time there was no joke. I tend to be serious when it comes to telling people I find them attractive. You, are enough that my heart tends to stumble over itself lately when you walk into the room." Max tries to look down so that the immediate flush and sting of flirting directly with Kaz in person isn't so difficult, but he knows that this is what he's wanted all along and he might as well give in and let fly the person he knows himself to be with someone he likes. He's stupidly candid, and often overly romantic when it comes down to it. He's got the heart of a poet, and never ceases to use the opportunity.
Since words will be his virtue in this relationship, he might as well grow into using them. There are other things to talk about, and he will get there as well. "Attractive nose, huh? Here I figured you'd admire my build, but hey, I'll go with nose." Max has never thought much about his nose, but if it's garnered attention, then he will enjoy every bit of it.
Taking his time, he smiles when Kaz relents and allows Max to get him a glass. Max knows what a deal it is, and wets his lips with a large grin as he wanders over to get the glass in question. He doesn't say anything about it, just pours three fingers and hands it over to Kaz before settling a little closer on the couch. Still not touching, but he can feel the heat from the other man's body. It makes him break out in a soft flush.
"I know that touch is not easy, and I will respect that. I am someone who enjoys physical contact a lot, but I also enjoy words and conversation. I think we can figure out a middle ground for now and a way to work forward together. I have armor as well. People that have hurt me, men in particular. I haven't been with one in a very long time because of it. Haven't even been attracted. You... you caught me off guard too." He smiles, because even though Kaz is caught off guard, Max is too. He may know his feelings, but the fact that he has them is a surprise to him. That he is so willing to be here with this man, stuns him. Yet, he can feel the flutter in his stomach still and the way his heart continues to ramble about in his chest as if horses are tapdancing-- forget running, they gave that up a while ago for top hats and canes.
Perhaps it’s good to be around someone who is much more open and candid with their words and feelings. Kaz is often a closed vault, he knows it’s one of his social failings. What had once been born out of survivalist necessity is now a hindrance around those he cares about, lowering his walls enough to truly let them in. It’s perhaps by design that he’s surrounded himself with people who each in their own ways are much more heartfelt than he is. People who push and prod and challenge him not to bottle up his feelings to where only spite and retribution escape. Max is now included on that list. Kaz sits silently for a moment, soaking in the compliments, needing a moment to sort out even what to do with them. He truly hasn’t been in a situation like this before. Even with Inej, for all their heartfelt speeches to one another that cut to the bone, they had never found time to flirt in between everything else that had to be said.
“Your build is nice.” He’s terrible at this. He can hear all his wait staff at the club laughing at him. Not meanly, but certain their boss in his natural state could never earn a tip. They’re right. He’d be more inclined to pickpocket one than smooth talk his way to it. Only he can’t swindle his way through a relationship, so it’s putting a proverbial shoulder to the wheel and pushing onward to learn how to do it. He’s seen relationships work of course, and he’s had people try and flirt with him, but it’s another matter to dive into it all himself. After a beat he admits, “Your character I found intriguing at the start. Though yes. I wasn’t blind to your build, or your eyes.”
Reaching up, he accepts the glass with a nod of thanks, pouring a few fingers of whiskey into the glass and taking a moderate, calculated sip. Even in this, Kaz has an iron grip on himself. He hasn’t eaten today, as usual, and he doesn’t ever want to get too drunk that he makes a choice he regrets. The whiskey burns, but not unpleasantly so, and it’s warm and sweet at the end. “I can see why this is your special stash.” Long, thin fingers tap against the glass he’s holding as he takes a second sip.
It’s not the same as Max pivots to his trauma, but Kaz lets his own go for the moment and gives an understanding nod. He doesn’t want to get into it right now though, so he simply says, “It seems you’ve come a long way, then. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He takes another drink, this one deeper, studying the glass as he says, “Anyway. Since that’s clear where we stand on the matter, we can move along. This also means I can raid your bookshelves with impunity. Just letting you know.” Not that he likely couldn’t have before, but it’s a lighter topic shift and evades him having to talk about his own issues with touch for now.
Having taken his time to watch Kaz on more than a few occasions, Max is fairly familiar with the fact that they share a rather unique bond in how they relate already. He knows that their long drawn out conversations are not the norm, and to hear even the shortest compliments and stumbling little flirts has the cowboy feeling rather on top of the world. It's a good thing to have a feeling returned when he could have sworn that this one thing would have been the death of him.
Feeling respected is important to Max, and finding some middling ground is essential. It's something that happened with Kaz early on, and before Max ever thought about catching wind of a feeling for the other man, which was good-- because now he doesn't have to worry that one day something might flip between them and all hell might break loose.
Watching Kaz sip at his drink, Max catches his eyes and settles his emotions there. It's one more of his skills. He's soft and gentle in the way he lifts his lashes and grins. "I was teasing about my build, but thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that, and about my eyes, since yours are always going to keep me looking at you. Only you." He wants to make it abundantly clear that Kaz is by far the only person that he's even thinking of looking at right now, not that there was a question, but still.
Taking sip of his own drink, Max nods. "It's not too bad. I am glad that I've gotten to share it with you tonight of all nights." Yes, Max has moved through some of his trauma. He hasn't beaten the best of it. He knows that he will one day, but it will take help, and he is certain that if Kaz and he make it that far in this relationship, then they will settle that part of Max's life. It's not about him all the time though and the diversion is spotted, but not minded. Max understands having to keep parts of his life underwraps
"You know, my collection isn't what it used to be, but it will always be open to you. Just make sure that no one but you gets their grubby little hands on them." He laughs, knowing that people are always after Kaz to loan them this or that, or to borrow this for a "little while". "You also know that it means you get to take further advantage of my services whenever you want. I am truly a call away for whatever you want. "
For all his sharp edges and hardened exterior, if there’s one quality Kaz has in spades it’s loyalty. He’s there for the people who earn his trust, and he’s never betrayed a friend. He’s only ever had friends, never anything established as more, but it extends to Max now as well. He might not be flowery but he’s not one to up and leave someone in the dirt, nor betray their confidence or humiliate them. Inej might be the secret keeper by title of her former job, but Kaz has kept personal matters and those of the heart to his chest for all of his friends, sometimes for years. In that way, as far as counting on someone goes, Kaz is oddly safe. It might be the only time the word safe is ever used in reference to Dirtyhands.
Sipping his drink, he can feel Max’s eyes on him. Tilting his head, his gaze shifts to accommodate meeting the other man’s. He can see the softness and emotion that Max lets rest on the surface. It’s sweet, and fitting of the other man. Much like the harsh angles of his body, Kaz’s own eyes are sharp and discerning. There’s an inquisitive fire in them that burns deep beneath the ocean blue waters, as though nothing in their target line could dissemble. Shark eyes they’ve been called, always on the hunt. Always picking or tearing apart whatever’s in their path.
To those that don’t know Kaz, many who meet his gaze wish they hadn’t. His Crows though are used to having that unwavering intense focus turned on them for what it truly means - that he’s listening, taking in their whole package, not to disarm them but to better understand and help move forward. The attention that Max gets now is unwavering; not soft, but keeping his sights set on the other man, tracking him, because he matters enough to Kaz to not want to risk letting him out of his sight. Kaz is always present; if he’s ever caught daydreaming, it’s usually a sign of alarm. There’s no alarm now though as he listens to Max, one finger gently running along the rim of the glass to self-soothe. It’s a good night, his stomach is full of good nerves, but they’re still nerves that need to be let out. “You can take your eyes off me long enough to get a fix on a target in the field,” he quips, but he’s swift to raise a hand and add after, “No, I know what you meant. You’re being romantic, and it’s very sweet. For what it’s worth, I don’t stray, either. There isn’t anyone else I’m seeing.”
That did raise the question though of letting other people know. Did it happen now? After things between them got more settled? How would he even go about it? Kaz normally doesn’t share details of his private life, others just sort of pick up on some things by virtue of living with him. It’s a question to ponder on later. His mind wouldn’t be his mind if it wasn’t crafting puzzles for him to solve. Think ten steps ahead but focus on now, he reminds himself.
At the permission to look Kaz rises to his feet, setting the drink down after a final sip so he has a hand free. He limps around the living space in mild curiosity to see what books he can find to look at, or if there are any other items of note. “I promise to defend them with my life,” he replies with a small quirk of his mouth. It’s true that Kaz constantly has people coming at him for various reasons. Sometimes it makes his skin itch and the waters rise, but it also helps him stay out of his own head. At the rest he pauses and looks over, giving Max a single nod of understanding. “I won’t ever take advantage of you. I know that’s not what you meant, and likewise, if you need something you only have to ask. Just putting that out there, too. I don’t exploit my people’s feelings.” He lets it linger in the air a moment before adding, “So where’s this infamous guitar? You don’t have to play it, I just want to see it.”
The intensity of that gaze is one of the things that Max enjoys with a certain distinction. He likes to watch the way it hovers over others around the club, and the way it investigates the happenings as they are about on jobs, then the way it converts silently into a zillion various thoughts and figures to disseminate currently or at a later date when they can all be thoroughly processed. It's way beyond what a shark could ever establish with his gaze. That's why Max has never feared resting beneath it. It is the thing that has studied and taken in more of Max's habits than he was aware of himself having at first when he returned from Oasis.
That gaze was a part of what brought the alien back to himself. It's the reason he can sit here this evening and even speak of feelings for the man who sits here beside him. Feeling the relief that Kaz has given with words and gestures tonight, Max runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up further from the state that it had been in when the other man arrived. It wasn't like coming out had been all that easy and Max had torn through his hair several times as he hemmed and hawed his way through it.
Max snickers at the quip, and then drops his head in a slightly bashful move. Yes, most certainly he could make his way through a day, a moment where he needed to do his job, but there was so much more to it than that. When Kaz says that there's no one else he's seeing, Max's mouth opens and then closes wondering if that means that they are in fact seeing one another now. Is it official. Not that he has anyone to run around telling, but it would be good to know for certain in his mind. He's a little anal in that he likes established lines and boundaries.
"So... " He stops his words when Kaz gets up. It gives him the opportunity to watch the other man as he moves around his space. It's nice to see him there and moving around Max's space. It feels... normal, and warm. "am I your people, or your person. I mean, does this mean we are together now. Not that we have to be. I.. am just curious..." Max pushes himself up and moves to the bedroom to let Kaz think over his answer, not pushing for anything in the moment. He comes back with his guitar and places it over his knee, strumming here and there to tune the instrument because it hasn't been played in a while. When he finally gets it settled, he glances up and starts singing this song.
Kaz is glad that Max moves to get his guitar to give him time to ruminate on the question. He’s far out of his depth right now. It’s not that he feels beholden to societal norms he’s never bothered to embrace, but more that he doesn’t know what would be the best answer for them. He can’t plot and plan ten steps ahead right now to ensure his dynamic with Max remains smooth, and that’s difficult for Kaz as a man who likes to always be ahead of every game. What did being together mean? What should it look like? Those were probably questions and conversations they should have together to ensure they were on the same page. What it means to one person might not match up with the other.
He stops overthinking everything, twisting and turning the puzzle around and around to have it make sense, when Max starts playing. Kaz isn’t very musically knowledgeable, but even he knows Elton John and the song being played. He leans against the wall, cane quietly resting at his side, not wanting to interrupt and break the spell as the other man plays. His heart does a funny flop at it, the nerves in his stomach fluttering again. He’s put up so many hard lines and walls over the years that nobody, not even those dearest to him, usually try to make overt emotional gestures. Certainly nobody’s ever serenaded him before now. His face feels a little hot from it, some redness rising up from his collar. Reaching up a free hand he scratches at it.
The broad lines of Max’s shoulders ripple as he plays, and Kaz thinks he can see emotions on Max’s face as the man gets into the song and lyrics. He lets silence spread for a few moments after the song ends before he says quietly, “You’re really talented. I think that would make Sir Elton John proud. Thank you. For sharing that with me.” He has two books that he plucks off Max’s shelf to look at later, because he’s just that large a book nerd, but he just sets them on the coffee table and perches on the sofa’s armrest. Feet on the floor, his cane he sets between his legs, rolling the head of it between his fingers to keep them busy.
Another pause as he tries to figure out how best to approach answering Max’s question. “As I said, I’m not seeing anybody else. I’m open to exploring what there is between us, now that things are laid on the table. With that said… it’s all new. If you are seeing someone else, or want the option, it doesn’t have to be exclusive right now. What it means to be together, what that looks like… I suppose there’s no set in stone answer that applies to everyone, is there? It might be something we figure out as we go, but if there’s anything you want or need, if there are elements that are non-negotiables for you, we should probably talk about that. Right?” That made practical sense to Kaz, even if he knew not all of this could be practical.
It's there in Kaz's eyes, that deep quizzical, analytical brain of his working overtime as Max plays. The cowboy knows that he put a beaut of a question out there, and while he slowly loses himself in the song, there's a conscious level that wonders where they will land on the other side of it. Did he move too fast, is he going to sink all of this before he can begin. That's a habit of this highly emotional creature. Falling into Elton John, Max allows himself the moment of creativity, of hope and enlightenment before he climbs back out to reality.
It had been a few seconds that he took for himself, but it was enough. It was nice to see that he wasn't the only one affected by the words and the gentle adagio of the music as it moved through the room. Maybe the song had been for more than Kaz, but for Max as well. It settled his mind and nerves as he sat there. Still. He sets the guitar aside and watches as the cane moves around the other male's body a small tell. Max has his own as he fidgets with his belt buckle, something that's obviously a few sizes too big-- and most certainly a part of his cowboy heritage. "Thank you. I dearly love that song. It's one of the first that I learned, and it never ceases to move me when I sing it."
The pause is expected, as is the sharp look in Kaz's eyes. His answer is not unexpected, insomuch that it speaks toward their very unique situation. "I don't want or need to see anyone else. You are the only one that I care to see, or want to date as it might be now or in the future. I am honestly open to your pace. Obviously. In my opinion, being together, or dating a person, being a couple is exactly as you describe it. It's two people learning what it means to be together, finding out what motivates one another and what they share in common or what makes them opposites. It's finding laughter and enjoying time together. It's learning. I mean, I don't need a title, so that's fine. I ... guess...I would like to be exclusive, if that's okay. I've been pretty messed up before in things that I thought were, and ended up not being, or by people who wanted to see lots of other people at the same time as me. I mean, if that's what you want, that's cool too. I guess, I'd want to know, and I'd probably just go my own way."
He sits quiet for a second and then bites his lip, and runs a finger down his leg. "Do you have anything that would be hard no for you, or things I don't know about that I shouldn't do, or things that would prevent us from moving forward right now?"
“I like the message of it,” Kaz agrees about the song. He often leans towards large gestures to speak for himself, but that’s not something he expects or needs. It isn’t the only way to show affection. “Little things can speak volumes. Just showing up goes a lot farther than most people think.” Loyalty means so very much to him. He’s had people try and look out for him until their dying breath. There are people he’d do the same for now. Some of his dearest memories are simply sitting in silence with someone as the sun rises, or wolfing down meals in between heists. Giving a coat to someone who needs it. Turning up for a fight simply to have another’s back. Kaz certainly doesn’t need houses or sculptures, he can afford those on his own. What he can’t do by himself is think the world is better off with him in it.
What Max says sounds reasonable to him. Honestly, Kaz has only ever been attracted to two people prior to Max, anyway. He’s seen dancers or passing people and found them pretty or handsome, but genuine interest in getting closer to them has been an extremely rare occurrence in his life. Not dating around, given he’s yet to even have dated once, is slim to nonexistent. While it might seem swift to move into being exclusive, it isn’t a dealbreaker for Kaz. “That’s fine. I don’t date much,” he replies with a small lift of his shoulder, before pausing and admitting in a lower voice, “I’ve never dated, actually.” While Kaz scoffs at societal rules and norms, he’s also aware that such an admittance might seem odd to others. “There was someone, once, but we could never get ourselves together enough to make it happen.” He doesn’t really count Imogen back when he was fourteen, but Inej was different. There had been a chance of something once, and they’re still best friends even if their trajectories parted ways.
As the question is turned on him Kaz pauses again, giving it due consideration and flexing emotional muscles long since atrophied. The large potential barrier they’ve already covered, that Max would need to be patient with Kaz as he works through his touch trauma. “I’m pretty low maintenance, I think,” he says with a slight crooked grin. As usual the left corner of his mouth gets the workout, sliding upwards slightly and briefly. His fingers lightly drum on his cane’s handle, finding the solid metal soothing. “Processing time, I guess? I don’t do well with being thrown into an emotional conversation and having to hash it out right then and there. Sometimes when things happen, I need time alone first.” His natural instinct is to shut down and go into survivor mode, and nothing productive ever happens if he tries to have an honest vulnerable conversation that he hasn’t prepped himself to handle first.
Little things are very important to Max as well. He missed those in all the grand gestures that seemed so forced in his last relationship, the one that ended before he went to Oasis, before his life changed so dramatically. A relationship like this might not have been on his radar previously. Yet now, it was all he could see. There was a person who moved his heart and that was all Max needed, simple little gestures, honest conversation, good meals, evening drinks, and nights watching the stars together. It was good.
Maybe it should have surprised Max that Kaz hadn't dated, but he didn't show it. All he did was smile. "That's fine with me. That only means that we get to take our time figuring out all of this together, just you and I. It can be whatever we make of it." There were a few in Max's past, only two people he really dated honestly. One person that hurt him deeply, and one that he held onto for the sake of holding onto, even if they weren't right for one another in the end. He shrugs. "I've only really dated two people. I thought I loved once, but I'm not sure it was deep enough, or touched that space in me. I have more, needed more, I imagine." It didn't matter any longer. It was far enough gone that he cherished the memories, and lived for the present now.
Listening to Kaz, Max nodded. It made perfect sense, and was so very like the man he knew. He couldn't honestly have expected anything else. "You can text me again when you want. I won't pressure you. Take your time to digest our talk tonight, and the things that happen as they do. Let me know if I move faster than you're ready for too, okay?" Max was open and he was fine with moving at whatever speed they needed, but he would need help in knowing occasionally how fast that was-- because he already knew that he was ahead of where Kaz was in this, and would be for a while.
Hearing about Max’s past, Kaz simply nods. It doesn’t bother him when he hears about Max’s past relationships, it never has. Life feels both too short yet too crammed for him to wish Max anything but the full spectrum of experience. For all of the many negative emotions that Kaz has thrived off of in his life, jealousy has never been one of them. He’s always been far too focused on himself and his goals to care about how someone else is faring in comparison unless it’s to see how to take them down out of revenge. It does mean that they’re starting off perhaps on different experience levels unlike Kaz potentially had with Inej, but Kaz figures that every relationship is unique enough to where nobody could really master them the way that other types of practice did. “Not following rules and making something on my own terms is how I prefer to go through life,” he assures Max. “Though yes, in this case, it would be our terms.” While Kaz is an extremely stubborn man when it comes to his work, he likes to think he’s more flexible in his social circles. He doesn’t make it just about himself. “And it’s okay if you were madly in love, you know. It’s also fine if you weren’t, but I like hearing about times in your life when you were happy.”
He stops twirling his cane for a moment, just resting his fingers on it. The cane is so much more than just his mobility aid. It’s an extension of his body and it’s a source of comfort and strength. Even when a gun might be a more suitable weapon, Kaz feels vulnerable without having the heft of the reinforced cane in his other hand. When one of his crew had been badly hurt and scared, he’d left his cane with her while he went to handle business as a silent way of showing support. Now he gently reaches out to let the crow’s head part gently tap Max’s knee. A touch without needing his fingers. “Of course I’ll text you.” It’s said with a slight smile. “I appreciate the understanding, though. I’ll let you know if things are moving too fast. Right now, I’d rather be here than away texting.” He then lets his cane rest against the side of the sofa as he slides down from sitting on the arm of the sofa to sit on the cushion proper. Still not touching, but closer.
Leaning forward, he picks up a piece of the flatbread he brought. Like the canal rat he is, he picks at the toppings rather than taking a proper bite. He needs something in his belly to go with the whiskey. “Tell me another memory that makes you happy?” he requests, as it seems like a time to focus on the positive. “It can but doesn’t have to be romance related.”
For once it's nice not to have to worry about someone and their preconceived notions of his relationships good or bad. They are his past and while he may reminisce and remind himself of the lessons he's learned, or allow himself to miss a few of the more intense feelings one of them inspired, they are very much in the past and Max will always allow them to stay there. He learned quite a good deal ago to let the past lie in the past. Life is what is made of it, and the future will always take care of itself.
They were very hard won lessons, but the cowboy learned them well. Turning to smile at Kaz as he falls further down on the couch, Max lays a hand near him and feels much the same way. There's nothing that bothers him about Kaz's experience or lack of. They will go as they will. He twists his lips to the side. "I think I feel more nostalgic about the relationship that hurt me the most, but it hurt the most because I cared more deeply, more passionately. He and I ..." Max thinks about it... "We burned bright and hot, but he wanted more than one person after we had said words of love, and that wasn't how I worked. I tried, but it - it twisted me up inside, and then he pushed me away because he thought I was smothering." Max shrugged. It was a strange time in his life.
How could a man be smothering when he craved time, and well, possibly more than the other could give in the way of wanting all of one person. In thinking further, Max sits and watches the way Kaz picks at his food. It's become an endearing trait, even if the ex-sheriff thinks that Kaz should probably take in more nourishment. He keeps a close eye on the man he cares for, and always tries to make sure that there's at least a little food that makes it beyond those beautiful lips.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about what it'd be like to kiss them on occasion, or to do much more. That's Max though. He's always been physical with people, but for this, he'd let it all go. Even the tap of the cane earlier was enough. It brought a small level of goosebumps along his arms that he didn't bother to acknowledge, beyond a widening grin.
"Another happy memory. So many of them include my siblings, and a lot have to do with the little things that we'd find out about our history here and there, but there was a lot of danger and unhappiness during that time too. I was hurting myself, and died, and then took drugs and almost died again." Max runs his fingers through his hair and drinks a sip from his glass. "I think when I came back from Oasis, and was working to find myself... I drove out to the shore, the Pacific. I'd always said that I would. I was in San Diego at the time, and there were so many people. I'd found this little hole in the wall to stay in on the beach. It was so beautiful though. The waves, the sound of it at night. The way the breeze would blow in and catch the curtains of my room first thing in the morning. It was such a different beauty from the desert, but I loved it all. The smell, the salt air that always seemed to land on everything. I wasn't into spending time with people, but I still loved to watch them, the way the women would dress up to go to the beach, their mimosas and gawdy baubles. It was hilarious and wonderful. A happy time during a rough patch in my life. How about you, do you have a memory to share?"
Given he’s spent most of his life in Ketterdam’s Barrel, Kaz knows full well the intermingling of horror and hope. The ever-present overcast skies rarely let shards of light shine through, and the same could be said for the life experiences of those who live in the narrow city streets. Kaz is learning though to soak them up when they happen, to silently bask as those small moments of joy slip through his shields. Rather than talk on the dark violence and desolation that accompanies them, he only speaks now on the positive that interweaves through those times. “Me? Let’s see. The first time I broke into the Boeksplein is pretty high on the list. There are four libraries built around a central courtyard in the university district. One of the libraries holds the rare books room. It has the most incredible manuscripts preserved there, and intricate maps on the walls. I went in there for a job, and I’ve been back a few times since for other work, but every time I hate to leave. I’m fine never having gone to school, I learned perfectly well teaching myself, but there’s something a little incredible at the thought of dedicating years of one’s life simply to study. That first time going in there, seeing the warm lighting, the reverence for the pages, the quiet intensity of the cushioned reading spaces, the sheer amount of knowledge available at one’s fingertips… I don’t know that I’ve ever felt anything quite like that since.”
He gives a little shrug, knowing full well how nerdy it sounds, but also that Max values such things, too. Jordie and his father had always wanted Kaz to go to school, to put his restless mind to good use, but Kaz has long since made peace with his life having gone down a different path. Still, he does love knowledge and learning, it’s one of the rare memories that makes him feel young again. If he ever gave himself a break he’d spend an entire day and night in a library reading for pleasure. He’d tour the world to see all the libraries the world had to offer. It’s a pipe dream, one he knows he won’t smoke, but every time a job requires him to break into a place full of books, Kaz feels oddly at home.
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noreasonneeded) wrote2024-03-25 08:40 am
@revolvings
He’s come to text Max regularly these days, that wall of the screen between them providing a slightly comforting barrier when talks veer towards personal matters. For all of Kaz’s quick thinking, for all his planning ten steps ahead in every heist, feelings somehow blindside him. It’s been easier to simply type onto a phone after taking his time processing matters rather than having a genuine face to face talk. Even then, after Max revealed his true feelings, Kaz still feels his brain stutter. He could simply have continued to leave things on a superficial level, with two phones between them, but he knows he’s failing even in doing that. It’s not conveying enough, not for a topic like this, and Kaz cares enough about Max to try and do this right.
Kaz does care for the other man. He likes him in a way that’s left his thoughts lingering after they parted, even if he never thought anything might come of it. There’s only ever been two other times in his life when he’s felt stirrings, once at fourteen with Imogen, and then years later with Inej. Neither time he’s ever been able to make anything of it, though he has been trying to pull himself into a better version of a man. To not be so broken and twisted inside that he’s doomed to ruin those around him, to never let someone touch him metaphorically if not physically. Max is a good person, a good man, and he deserves someone who’s willing to be open and vulnerable with him. In that respect, Kaz knows he’s fallen short. Perhaps though it’s not entirely too late to start.
Kaz arrives home at the Slat, the converted house not far from the Club, minutes later as promised. It’s relatively quiet even downstairs for once. He takes off his shoes by the door, lining them up neatly, feeling the relief of it from a long day on his feet. Black socks are left on, along with gray pinstripe suit pants, black suit shirt, black and gray vest, and his gloves. It’s contrasted with the pale skin of his face, the shadows beneath his eyes, the sharp angles of his body. A man made of marble he’s been called, smooth enough to slick off the surface until you got cut on a jagged edge. He doesn’t enjoy being that though for his family. Somehow they’ve found small cracks and crevices to nestle against.
Max has, too. Kaz doesn’t often put it into words, but he does use little gestures. Max told him that he’d been drinking, liquid courage, so Kaz has brought over some food in case he needs something to soak up the alcohol. It’s nothing that impressive, just some flatbread, but it’s easy to eat and he carries the takeout box with him. Taking care of someone, that’s the only real way Kaz knows how to show affection. That, and protecting them, although Max is a good fighter in his own right, too.
His hat he gently hangs up, then with his cane limps over to where Max is sitting. His heart is pounding as he slowly lowers himself into a seat beside him on the sofa, not close enough to touch, raising his leg to rest on the coffee table. His gaze falls on the whiskey bottle, and it’s tempting to help numb the edges of his mind, but getting up to get himself a glass is too much effort after he’s sat down. Setting the box on the table, he opens it for Max to take some as he likes. Although if his nerves are like Kaz’s, he might not be hungry right now. Still. It won’t go to waste. He’s quiet for a moment, silence stretching, before he finally speaks. “Congratulations. Not many can catch me off guard.” He gives Max a small, lopsided smile at that, figuring a little teasing couldn’t hurt to kick things off. At least he hopes it shows that he’s not put off by what Max has said.
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Heartbreak had been a very real thing for Max once upon a time, and when he ended up back in Roswell, and back with Liz who had been a constant in his life, things never quite seemed like what they should. There was never the passion or desire that Max craved between them. Max was an emotional creature. He thrived by his emotions once upon a time, and his relationships were testaments to this.
That's why it came a true surprise when a subtle flame began to ignite for the man he spent so much time with. It would make sense if he had carried feelings over for the person he had relied on, and spent time with growing back into himself. Max searched himself and had to make sure that it wasn't the only reason that side of him began to flare back to life again. Upon discovering it wasn't. He had to decide what to do about it. Should he even risk the close friendship he'd created by mentioning it at all.
It was a difficult decision, more difficult than he'd come across in ages. This was important. It wasn't like Kaz was like anyone he'd found himself falling for before. He couldn't simply grab the man and press their lips together to seal the deal. Pouring his feelings into a kiss wouldn't work this time. He'd have to use words, and they were often clumsy. So, liquid courage and an anonymous tagline it was. That didn't last long, and neither did his solitude. Although, Max could say that he felt better this way. He felt better knowing that he wasn't alone in all this.
When Kaz finally made it there beside him, Max took a deep breath and set down the bottle he'd been drinking from. He'd foregone the cup he had a short while ago. Max didn't have to look over to know the lithe body that sat next to him, so close to touch and yet not quite. He could sense the strong lines of Kaz's jaw, the dark inset eyes, and thin set of lips. Max had studied the man far more than he realized before this. He'd studied him, thought about him and thought about a lot more than simple things. It made his heart beat fast knowing he was near right now, and knowing what Max had finally admitted to aloud, to himself and to Kaz all at once.
The alien snorted out a short laugh at the quip, he couldn't help it. "Off guard, huh? I would have sworn that my comment about you being fine earlier would have gave it away, that and about how good you smell." Max turned, and grinned softly. "Which you do by the way." He bit his lip softly, and tried not to make it awkward. "Can I get you anything, a glass or you know, my lips on yours?" He teased a little, knowing that the latter is impossible, but Max can play. He's laughed softly as he says it, so that Kaz knows he's kidding when the words fly from his lips. Max doesn't want pressure here. He doesn't want anything between them that might mess any of this up.
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Kaz doesn't want that, though. He’s so tired of being alone. He has his friends, his family. He loves them deeply. He thinks they know it. Yet he’s kept up a wall even with them, holding himself apart so that he could protect them. So that he could protect himself. He’s not so altruistic that he doesn’t know it’s also been selfish. He’s terrified of lowering his fortress and having the waters crash over him once more, drowning him as they should have all those years ago. Of having to pull himself back to shore again. He’s spent so many years since then ensuring nobody else has to suffer alone that he’s forgotten how to let anyone offer him the same.
Until now. Max has offered him a hand in this new venture. Perhaps they might pull one another up, to ensure neither falls.
He gives a little smile and adds, “I thought you just had a very sensitive nose, in addition to it being a very attractive one.” Likely a little clumsy, but Max has found one of Kaz’s weaknesses. He’s terrible at this sort of thing unless he’s undercover. Which might go to show that it actually means something genuine with Max.
In the past Kaz would have demurred Max getting him a glass. He’s perfectly capable of handling everything on his own. This time though he thinks on what the offer is really trying to do, and he pauses before saying slowly, “A glass would be nice.” The mention of kissing, he knows it’s meant as a joke so no offense is taken, but his gaze casts itself downward in thought. Any such physical touch is a long way off. Even holding hands with his gloves on is something he has to prepare himself to manage. Kaz wants to work towards overcoming his trauma, though. He meant it when he said before that he doesn’t want to be like this forever. He wants to hug his friends. He wants to kiss someone who means something special to him.
He licks his lips that suddenly feel dry and he softly adds, “I’m working on the rest. Touch is… difficult for me.” He holds up a hand. “We can talk about all that some other time. Let’s enjoy the moment without bad memories. Just… I want you to know, it is something I’m working on. Letting down my armor. And not because of you.” He would never put the pressure of his mental health or overcoming trauma on someone else. “It’s something I’ve been doing for myself. And for everyone around me.” He gives a little shrug. “I just want you to know you’re not alone in working on yourself. And that you deserve someone who is doing the same.”
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Since words will be his virtue in this relationship, he might as well grow into using them. There are other things to talk about, and he will get there as well. "Attractive nose, huh? Here I figured you'd admire my build, but hey, I'll go with nose." Max has never thought much about his nose, but if it's garnered attention, then he will enjoy every bit of it.
Taking his time, he smiles when Kaz relents and allows Max to get him a glass. Max knows what a deal it is, and wets his lips with a large grin as he wanders over to get the glass in question. He doesn't say anything about it, just pours three fingers and hands it over to Kaz before settling a little closer on the couch. Still not touching, but he can feel the heat from the other man's body. It makes him break out in a soft flush.
"I know that touch is not easy, and I will respect that. I am someone who enjoys physical contact a lot, but I also enjoy words and conversation. I think we can figure out a middle ground for now and a way to work forward together. I have armor as well. People that have hurt me, men in particular. I haven't been with one in a very long time because of it. Haven't even been attracted. You... you caught me off guard too." He smiles, because even though Kaz is caught off guard, Max is too. He may know his feelings, but the fact that he has them is a surprise to him. That he is so willing to be here with this man, stuns him. Yet, he can feel the flutter in his stomach still and the way his heart continues to ramble about in his chest as if horses are tapdancing-- forget running, they gave that up a while ago for top hats and canes.
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“Your build is nice.” He’s terrible at this. He can hear all his wait staff at the club laughing at him. Not meanly, but certain their boss in his natural state could never earn a tip. They’re right. He’d be more inclined to pickpocket one than smooth talk his way to it. Only he can’t swindle his way through a relationship, so it’s putting a proverbial shoulder to the wheel and pushing onward to learn how to do it. He’s seen relationships work of course, and he’s had people try and flirt with him, but it’s another matter to dive into it all himself. After a beat he admits, “Your character I found intriguing at the start. Though yes. I wasn’t blind to your build, or your eyes.”
Reaching up, he accepts the glass with a nod of thanks, pouring a few fingers of whiskey into the glass and taking a moderate, calculated sip. Even in this, Kaz has an iron grip on himself. He hasn’t eaten today, as usual, and he doesn’t ever want to get too drunk that he makes a choice he regrets. The whiskey burns, but not unpleasantly so, and it’s warm and sweet at the end. “I can see why this is your special stash.” Long, thin fingers tap against the glass he’s holding as he takes a second sip.
It’s not the same as Max pivots to his trauma, but Kaz lets his own go for the moment and gives an understanding nod. He doesn’t want to get into it right now though, so he simply says, “It seems you’ve come a long way, then. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He takes another drink, this one deeper, studying the glass as he says, “Anyway. Since that’s clear where we stand on the matter, we can move along. This also means I can raid your bookshelves with impunity. Just letting you know.” Not that he likely couldn’t have before, but it’s a lighter topic shift and evades him having to talk about his own issues with touch for now.
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Feeling respected is important to Max, and finding some middling ground is essential. It's something that happened with Kaz early on, and before Max ever thought about catching wind of a feeling for the other man, which was good-- because now he doesn't have to worry that one day something might flip between them and all hell might break loose.
Watching Kaz sip at his drink, Max catches his eyes and settles his emotions there. It's one more of his skills. He's soft and gentle in the way he lifts his lashes and grins. "I was teasing about my build, but thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that, and about my eyes, since yours are always going to keep me looking at you. Only you." He wants to make it abundantly clear that Kaz is by far the only person that he's even thinking of looking at right now, not that there was a question, but still.
Taking sip of his own drink, Max nods. "It's not too bad. I am glad that I've gotten to share it with you tonight of all nights." Yes, Max has moved through some of his trauma. He hasn't beaten the best of it. He knows that he will one day, but it will take help, and he is certain that if Kaz and he make it that far in this relationship, then they will settle that part of Max's life. It's not about him all the time though and the diversion is spotted, but not minded. Max understands having to keep parts of his life underwraps
"You know, my collection isn't what it used to be, but it will always be open to you. Just make sure that no one but you gets their grubby little hands on them." He laughs, knowing that people are always after Kaz to loan them this or that, or to borrow this for a "little while". "You also know that it means you get to take further advantage of my services whenever you want. I am truly a call away for whatever you want. "
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Sipping his drink, he can feel Max’s eyes on him. Tilting his head, his gaze shifts to accommodate meeting the other man’s. He can see the softness and emotion that Max lets rest on the surface. It’s sweet, and fitting of the other man. Much like the harsh angles of his body, Kaz’s own eyes are sharp and discerning. There’s an inquisitive fire in them that burns deep beneath the ocean blue waters, as though nothing in their target line could dissemble. Shark eyes they’ve been called, always on the hunt. Always picking or tearing apart whatever’s in their path.
To those that don’t know Kaz, many who meet his gaze wish they hadn’t. His Crows though are used to having that unwavering intense focus turned on them for what it truly means - that he’s listening, taking in their whole package, not to disarm them but to better understand and help move forward. The attention that Max gets now is unwavering; not soft, but keeping his sights set on the other man, tracking him, because he matters enough to Kaz to not want to risk letting him out of his sight. Kaz is always present; if he’s ever caught daydreaming, it’s usually a sign of alarm. There’s no alarm now though as he listens to Max, one finger gently running along the rim of the glass to self-soothe. It’s a good night, his stomach is full of good nerves, but they’re still nerves that need to be let out. “You can take your eyes off me long enough to get a fix on a target in the field,” he quips, but he’s swift to raise a hand and add after, “No, I know what you meant. You’re being romantic, and it’s very sweet. For what it’s worth, I don’t stray, either. There isn’t anyone else I’m seeing.”
That did raise the question though of letting other people know. Did it happen now? After things between them got more settled? How would he even go about it? Kaz normally doesn’t share details of his private life, others just sort of pick up on some things by virtue of living with him. It’s a question to ponder on later. His mind wouldn’t be his mind if it wasn’t crafting puzzles for him to solve. Think ten steps ahead but focus on now, he reminds himself.
At the permission to look Kaz rises to his feet, setting the drink down after a final sip so he has a hand free. He limps around the living space in mild curiosity to see what books he can find to look at, or if there are any other items of note. “I promise to defend them with my life,” he replies with a small quirk of his mouth. It’s true that Kaz constantly has people coming at him for various reasons. Sometimes it makes his skin itch and the waters rise, but it also helps him stay out of his own head. At the rest he pauses and looks over, giving Max a single nod of understanding. “I won’t ever take advantage of you. I know that’s not what you meant, and likewise, if you need something you only have to ask. Just putting that out there, too. I don’t exploit my people’s feelings.” He lets it linger in the air a moment before adding, “So where’s this infamous guitar? You don’t have to play it, I just want to see it.”
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That gaze was a part of what brought the alien back to himself. It's the reason he can sit here this evening and even speak of feelings for the man who sits here beside him. Feeling the relief that Kaz has given with words and gestures tonight, Max runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up further from the state that it had been in when the other man arrived. It wasn't like coming out had been all that easy and Max had torn through his hair several times as he hemmed and hawed his way through it.
Max snickers at the quip, and then drops his head in a slightly bashful move. Yes, most certainly he could make his way through a day, a moment where he needed to do his job, but there was so much more to it than that. When Kaz says that there's no one else he's seeing, Max's mouth opens and then closes wondering if that means that they are in fact seeing one another now. Is it official. Not that he has anyone to run around telling, but it would be good to know for certain in his mind. He's a little anal in that he likes established lines and boundaries.
"So... " He stops his words when Kaz gets up. It gives him the opportunity to watch the other man as he moves around his space. It's nice to see him there and moving around Max's space. It feels... normal, and warm. "am I your people, or your person. I mean, does this mean we are together now. Not that we have to be. I.. am just curious..." Max pushes himself up and moves to the bedroom to let Kaz think over his answer, not pushing for anything in the moment. He comes back with his guitar and places it over his knee, strumming here and there to tune the instrument because it hasn't been played in a while. When he finally gets it settled, he glances up and starts singing this song.
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He stops overthinking everything, twisting and turning the puzzle around and around to have it make sense, when Max starts playing. Kaz isn’t very musically knowledgeable, but even he knows Elton John and the song being played. He leans against the wall, cane quietly resting at his side, not wanting to interrupt and break the spell as the other man plays. His heart does a funny flop at it, the nerves in his stomach fluttering again. He’s put up so many hard lines and walls over the years that nobody, not even those dearest to him, usually try to make overt emotional gestures. Certainly nobody’s ever serenaded him before now. His face feels a little hot from it, some redness rising up from his collar. Reaching up a free hand he scratches at it.
The broad lines of Max’s shoulders ripple as he plays, and Kaz thinks he can see emotions on Max’s face as the man gets into the song and lyrics. He lets silence spread for a few moments after the song ends before he says quietly, “You’re really talented. I think that would make Sir Elton John proud. Thank you. For sharing that with me.” He has two books that he plucks off Max’s shelf to look at later, because he’s just that large a book nerd, but he just sets them on the coffee table and perches on the sofa’s armrest. Feet on the floor, his cane he sets between his legs, rolling the head of it between his fingers to keep them busy.
Another pause as he tries to figure out how best to approach answering Max’s question. “As I said, I’m not seeing anybody else. I’m open to exploring what there is between us, now that things are laid on the table. With that said… it’s all new. If you are seeing someone else, or want the option, it doesn’t have to be exclusive right now. What it means to be together, what that looks like… I suppose there’s no set in stone answer that applies to everyone, is there? It might be something we figure out as we go, but if there’s anything you want or need, if there are elements that are non-negotiables for you, we should probably talk about that. Right?” That made practical sense to Kaz, even if he knew not all of this could be practical.
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It had been a few seconds that he took for himself, but it was enough. It was nice to see that he wasn't the only one affected by the words and the gentle adagio of the music as it moved through the room. Maybe the song had been for more than Kaz, but for Max as well. It settled his mind and nerves as he sat there. Still. He sets the guitar aside and watches as the cane moves around the other male's body a small tell. Max has his own as he fidgets with his belt buckle, something that's obviously a few sizes too big-- and most certainly a part of his cowboy heritage. "Thank you. I dearly love that song. It's one of the first that I learned, and it never ceases to move me when I sing it."
The pause is expected, as is the sharp look in Kaz's eyes. His answer is not unexpected, insomuch that it speaks toward their very unique situation. "I don't want or need to see anyone else. You are the only one that I care to see, or want to date as it might be now or in the future. I am honestly open to your pace. Obviously. In my opinion, being together, or dating a person, being a couple is exactly as you describe it. It's two people learning what it means to be together, finding out what motivates one another and what they share in common or what makes them opposites. It's finding laughter and enjoying time together. It's learning. I mean, I don't need a title, so that's fine. I ... guess...I would like to be exclusive, if that's okay. I've been pretty messed up before in things that I thought were, and ended up not being, or by people who wanted to see lots of other people at the same time as me. I mean, if that's what you want, that's cool too. I guess, I'd want to know, and I'd probably just go my own way."
He sits quiet for a second and then bites his lip, and runs a finger down his leg. "Do you have anything that would be hard no for you, or things I don't know about that I shouldn't do, or things that would prevent us from moving forward right now?"
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What Max says sounds reasonable to him. Honestly, Kaz has only ever been attracted to two people prior to Max, anyway. He’s seen dancers or passing people and found them pretty or handsome, but genuine interest in getting closer to them has been an extremely rare occurrence in his life. Not dating around, given he’s yet to even have dated once, is slim to nonexistent. While it might seem swift to move into being exclusive, it isn’t a dealbreaker for Kaz. “That’s fine. I don’t date much,” he replies with a small lift of his shoulder, before pausing and admitting in a lower voice, “I’ve never dated, actually.” While Kaz scoffs at societal rules and norms, he’s also aware that such an admittance might seem odd to others. “There was someone, once, but we could never get ourselves together enough to make it happen.” He doesn’t really count Imogen back when he was fourteen, but Inej was different. There had been a chance of something once, and they’re still best friends even if their trajectories parted ways.
As the question is turned on him Kaz pauses again, giving it due consideration and flexing emotional muscles long since atrophied. The large potential barrier they’ve already covered, that Max would need to be patient with Kaz as he works through his touch trauma. “I’m pretty low maintenance, I think,” he says with a slight crooked grin. As usual the left corner of his mouth gets the workout, sliding upwards slightly and briefly. His fingers lightly drum on his cane’s handle, finding the solid metal soothing. “Processing time, I guess? I don’t do well with being thrown into an emotional conversation and having to hash it out right then and there. Sometimes when things happen, I need time alone first.” His natural instinct is to shut down and go into survivor mode, and nothing productive ever happens if he tries to have an honest vulnerable conversation that he hasn’t prepped himself to handle first.
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Maybe it should have surprised Max that Kaz hadn't dated, but he didn't show it. All he did was smile. "That's fine with me. That only means that we get to take our time figuring out all of this together, just you and I. It can be whatever we make of it." There were a few in Max's past, only two people he really dated honestly. One person that hurt him deeply, and one that he held onto for the sake of holding onto, even if they weren't right for one another in the end. He shrugs. "I've only really dated two people. I thought I loved once, but I'm not sure it was deep enough, or touched that space in me. I have more, needed more, I imagine." It didn't matter any longer. It was far enough gone that he cherished the memories, and lived for the present now.
Listening to Kaz, Max nodded. It made perfect sense, and was so very like the man he knew. He couldn't honestly have expected anything else. "You can text me again when you want. I won't pressure you. Take your time to digest our talk tonight, and the things that happen as they do. Let me know if I move faster than you're ready for too, okay?" Max was open and he was fine with moving at whatever speed they needed, but he would need help in knowing occasionally how fast that was-- because he already knew that he was ahead of where Kaz was in this, and would be for a while.
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He stops twirling his cane for a moment, just resting his fingers on it. The cane is so much more than just his mobility aid. It’s an extension of his body and it’s a source of comfort and strength. Even when a gun might be a more suitable weapon, Kaz feels vulnerable without having the heft of the reinforced cane in his other hand. When one of his crew had been badly hurt and scared, he’d left his cane with her while he went to handle business as a silent way of showing support. Now he gently reaches out to let the crow’s head part gently tap Max’s knee. A touch without needing his fingers. “Of course I’ll text you.” It’s said with a slight smile. “I appreciate the understanding, though. I’ll let you know if things are moving too fast. Right now, I’d rather be here than away texting.” He then lets his cane rest against the side of the sofa as he slides down from sitting on the arm of the sofa to sit on the cushion proper. Still not touching, but closer.
Leaning forward, he picks up a piece of the flatbread he brought. Like the canal rat he is, he picks at the toppings rather than taking a proper bite. He needs something in his belly to go with the whiskey. “Tell me another memory that makes you happy?” he requests, as it seems like a time to focus on the positive. “It can but doesn’t have to be romance related.”
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They were very hard won lessons, but the cowboy learned them well. Turning to smile at Kaz as he falls further down on the couch, Max lays a hand near him and feels much the same way. There's nothing that bothers him about Kaz's experience or lack of. They will go as they will. He twists his lips to the side. "I think I feel more nostalgic about the relationship that hurt me the most, but it hurt the most because I cared more deeply, more passionately. He and I ..." Max thinks about it... "We burned bright and hot, but he wanted more than one person after we had said words of love, and that wasn't how I worked. I tried, but it - it twisted me up inside, and then he pushed me away because he thought I was smothering." Max shrugged. It was a strange time in his life.
How could a man be smothering when he craved time, and well, possibly more than the other could give in the way of wanting all of one person. In thinking further, Max sits and watches the way Kaz picks at his food. It's become an endearing trait, even if the ex-sheriff thinks that Kaz should probably take in more nourishment. He keeps a close eye on the man he cares for, and always tries to make sure that there's at least a little food that makes it beyond those beautiful lips.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about what it'd be like to kiss them on occasion, or to do much more. That's Max though. He's always been physical with people, but for this, he'd let it all go. Even the tap of the cane earlier was enough. It brought a small level of goosebumps along his arms that he didn't bother to acknowledge, beyond a widening grin.
"Another happy memory. So many of them include my siblings, and a lot have to do with the little things that we'd find out about our history here and there, but there was a lot of danger and unhappiness during that time too. I was hurting myself, and died, and then took drugs and almost died again." Max runs his fingers through his hair and drinks a sip from his glass. "I think when I came back from Oasis, and was working to find myself... I drove out to the shore, the Pacific. I'd always said that I would. I was in San Diego at the time, and there were so many people. I'd found this little hole in the wall to stay in on the beach. It was so beautiful though. The waves, the sound of it at night. The way the breeze would blow in and catch the curtains of my room first thing in the morning. It was such a different beauty from the desert, but I loved it all. The smell, the salt air that always seemed to land on everything. I wasn't into spending time with people, but I still loved to watch them, the way the women would dress up to go to the beach, their mimosas and gawdy baubles. It was hilarious and wonderful. A happy time during a rough patch in my life. How about you, do you have a memory to share?"
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He gives a little shrug, knowing full well how nerdy it sounds, but also that Max values such things, too. Jordie and his father had always wanted Kaz to go to school, to put his restless mind to good use, but Kaz has long since made peace with his life having gone down a different path. Still, he does love knowledge and learning, it’s one of the rare memories that makes him feel young again. If he ever gave himself a break he’d spend an entire day and night in a library reading for pleasure. He’d tour the world to see all the libraries the world had to offer. It’s a pipe dream, one he knows he won’t smoke, but every time a job requires him to break into a place full of books, Kaz feels oddly at home.