Finding Ourselves

Max saw a side street that he recognized. Casually, he grabbed Blaze's wrist and pulled him into the narrow alleyway. The buildings rose up like fingers reaching into the wide blue oblivion that was the sky. His hand stayed loosely around Blazes wrist as he stared up, his eyes twinkling like a little kid in a toy shoppe. He looked up the fire escapes to see two people sharing a cigarette. Ahead of them, a lady was throwing away her trash. Max was walking forward slowly, taking everything in happily.

Max was suddenly painfully aware that he was still holding onto Blaze's wrist. He unfurled his fingers, giving him an apologetic smile over his shoulder. Surprisingly, as soon as he let go of the younger man's arm, his hand felt empty, achingly so. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, trying to ignore the feeling. He made it back up to ground level. He figured they were ten minutes from the school, only three minutes from their destination. He turned right at the top of the stairs, going against the flow of people around him.

"You'll see in a second," Max mumbled, weaving his way through the ever-thickening crowds of people.
Finally, he came upon a little glass door. He opened it and jogged up the stairs and to the third floor, opening a door that was to the right. Indie music pulsed through the room. The walls were lined with shelves of records and the little space was filled to the brim with racks of CDs. Max snagged his bottom lip between his teeth and held open the door for Blaze.

"Yeah, one of the people who lives in my building owns this place. I come here a lot," he admitted, glancing around.
A girl was perched, sitting Indian style, on the counter. She had a ukelalie in her lap, and she was staring intently at her torn up toms. She put on a song by Mumford and Sons and continued fiddling with her shoes. Max cleared his throat and she looked up at him. Her eyes brightened and she jumped down, dancing over to him. He hugged her.
"Maxxy! You haven't been here in so long!" she finally pulled away, still smiling up at him with dancing eyes. "Who did you bring with you?"

She shook his hand, "I'm London. You look a little too young to be running around with Max." She arched one of her perfectly sculpted brows and turned her attention to the older man, "Are you a cradle-robber now? Because that doesn't usually blow over well with the school board..."
Max rolled his eyes, "Blaze is just a friend of mine. He's working on a project for my class. I'm not chasing after my students, not that I owe you any explanation."

"Oh really? What does that explain?" he asked, his tone deeply curious. He wanted to know what Blaze was implicating. For some reason he found the younger boy terribly fascinating and endlessly difficult to follow. He didn't hear any note of hostility, so he was betting that he wasn't being homophobic. However, if that wasn't the case, and Blaze was homophobic, Max would take it on the chin. He was fairly used to people bashing him for his preferences.
"If you're one of those homophobes, I'm going to have to ask you to leave..." London started, her voice low and steady, even threatening.

London's voice softened slightly, "okay. I'm sorry. I just don't promote any sort of hate in my store. And I'm protective of Max because he doesn't know how to stand up for himself."
Max nudged her with his elbow, a warning that she should stop talking. Then, slowly, he turned away to go find a record. He started scanning the shelves, his slender fingers running over the record cases lightly. His eyes flicked over each title and he pulled a few out to scan them curiously.

"Max used to help me a lot before he got a job at your school. He would go to this garage sale or that one to find these old records that were missing from this place. He found cd after cd and listened through them all to make sure nothing skipped. He loves music. It's his favorite thing aside from his modeling and teaching. I mean he could tell you the history of nearly any band or singer, down to the nitty gritty details. He's a genius," London responded, watching him thumb a record, the one he'd been searching for.
The case was weather worn, sunlight fading the picture away. The corner had been worried away, but Max stared at it like he'd just found the holy grail. His thumbs brushed some specs of dirt away and he held it to his chest in a somewhat protective manner.

"Where did you find this, London?" Max ask, sauntering back to the two of them. He casually tossed his arm over her shoulder. His smile was wide and his blue eyes giddy. He held the record like one would hold an expensive book.
London laughed, looking up at him. She said, "From that collector in Maine. He remembered you were looking for it when you last went up to see him. He was in California, picking up some first edition Beatles records, and he asked to look around the guys house. Apparently he bought it off of the guy for ten bucks."
"Next time you talk to him, tell him thank you so much. How much do I need to pay you, love?" he asked, pulling out his wallet.
"The guy sent it for you. It's free," London answered.

"You're a doll. I wish we could stay and chat, but we really should be getting back to the school. I'll come back soon, though. Your vinyl collection is getting low. Maybe I'll make some runs over the next long weekend," Max said. He pressed a feather light kiss to her temple and gathered her up in a hug. His arms fell away and she backed away, turning around and dancing back to her counter. She waved, smiling sweetly. "Well, let's be on our way, shall we?" Max asked, opening the door for Blaze.

Max walked outside, smiling. Part of him longed to reach out and grab for Blaze's wrist again, or to hold his hand, but the logical side got the better of him. He kept his hands to himself, walking slowly. Casually he said, "If you want, I can write you an excuse so you don't get a detention. I'll just say you were helping me move some old props out." He didn't want Blaze to get in trouble. Plus, he was the one who drug the younger boy around the city for an hour and a half.

Haha thanks!

"If you're sure..." Max trailed off unwillingly. "I mean, it's really no big deal." he walked close to Blaze, but not so close that it was uncomfortable. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and forced himself to keep his eyes focused on the ground. He counted the click of his Oxfords, stepped over each crack in the pavement, hummed under his breath. He was doing anything he could not to do anything stupid.he clenched his fists in the pickets of his coat.

"Okay, I suppose you're right. She's quite a pr*ck, from what I hear. I tend to skip out on staff meetings and I generally avoid the teachers lounge, so I've managed to never talk to her. Come to think of it, I haven't talked to the majority of the teachers here..." he mumbled, a half smile on his face. His gaze stayed down, on the ground. He nearly ran into multiple people but refused to look up.