(BL)Alpha Made-Chapter 540: I hate hangovers

Maxwell felt like death incarnate when he woke up the next morning. His head was pounding, his body felt sore and wobbly in a way he’d never experienced before, and he just wanted to turn into the warmth he was already clinging to and go back to sleep. If he slept more, he’d probably sleep off this terrible, annoying pain.

A soft chuckle, that normally would have been something Maxwell would normally enjoy, sounded above Maxwell’s ear. Maxwell flinched, and the chuckle grew louder.

"It seems my sweet sleeping beauty is finally awake." Andrew’s voice was deep, a rumble under Maxwell’s ear. Maxwell shivered, leaning back and wincing as every action made his body ache. He felt like a truck had run over him. His whole body felt like a damn bruise, a creaking door that needed oil.

He was sure that Andrew could hear him as he moved.

"I don’t want to be." Maxwell muttered, his mouth feeling like he’d shoved cotton balls inside of it the night before. Andrew chuckled again.

"You sound horrible. One second, Angel." Andrew told him, shifting so that Maxwell had to release him. Maxwell was hesitant to do so, but it was clear that Andrew was in a better state then he was. The bed creaked as Andrew got up and Maxwell got a feast for his eyes as the back of his -god, his husband- shifted in front of him. He was only wearing underwear, which wasn’t something that Andrew normally did.

The man liked to wear pajama bottoms to bed, and that was it. Made for easy access when Maxwell was feeling a little handsy. Too bad Maxwell couldn’t fully appreciate this moment given how terrible he felt.

Andrew stood up, showing off his toned body that he worked hard to maintain through working out and just being a damn alpha. Maxwell wasn’t normally resentful towards the man that was full of unending support for him, but in this moment? Yeah, it was annoying. Maxwell naturally was more plushie compared to the other man due to his omega characteristics. Not that it was always like that, Richard was a good example, but his partner was Ellis.

Maxwell and Ellis were cut from the same damn cloth.

"I want to bite you." Maxwell muttered, and of course Andrew heard him.

"The mark hasn’t faded." Andrew told him, not even flinching at Maxwell’s comment.

"Not like that." Maxwell told him, his voice raspy.

"Hush, Angel. You can speak more once I come back with some water, alright? And some pain medication. You sound like you’re in a lot of pain. I’m sorry I didn’t prepare this earlier." Andrew apologised and sounded sincere in his apology. Maxwell’s brows drew together, annoyed that the other man was doing so.

"Why the fuck are you apologising? If anything, the maids who set up the room should have made it easier for me, not you." Maxwell growled, hating how his voice caught, warping and failing to come out as he spoke. Damn cottonmouth.

"The maids aren’t at fault. They had a lot to tend to, and I’m your husband. I should be the one to take care of you." Andrew’s voice was slightly muffled and Maxwell was too lazy to roll over and see where he was. He stayed still, on his side, waiting for Andrew to come back and slide into place.

The sound of running water told Maxwell that he was probably in the bathroom. The man was an angel. Maxwell should not have that as his nickname, but it was sweet of Andrew to think so. The water turned off and Maxwell let out a soft sigh.

"The same way," Andrew said, his voice getting closer, "that it’s your job to look after me." Andrew’s cheery voice was almost too much for Maxwell, but he was not about to snap at his husband.

Maxwell was not going to do that the day after they got married. He cared about Andrew too much. He didn’t want to ever snap at the man for caring for him.

Andrew was careful with helping Maxwell up, much to Maxwell’s groan. He had Maxwell positioned in an upright seating position, several thousand pillows behind him for support and Maxwell had a brief, out-of-body experience realising that Andrew was going to be worse than this when Maxwell was pregnant.

A silly smile touched his lips and Andrew, now in his glasses, peered down at him, a smile touching his lips at Maxwell’s own smile.

"What is my Maxy smiling about?" Andrew asked, curious, and Maxwell didn’t want to tell him. He wanted to see if it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy

"It’s our first full day of being married." Maxwell told him as Andrew put pain medication into Maxwell’s hand and helped him hold a glass of cold water. Maxwell watched Andrew melt, his brown gaze growing warm.

"You are so sweet." Andrew told him, leaning to press a kiss against his forehead. "I love you, my husband." Andrew told him and Maxwell felt a blossom of pride fill him. That was right. Andrew belonged to him, and he belonged to Andrew. They were married. Bound until death do they part.

Andrew wouldn’t be able to get rid of him.

Maxwell quickly took the medication, drinking the glass of water as thirst filled him. Andrew was with him the whole time, rubbing his back, offering him comfort with his gaze as soft as melted chocolate. Maxwell adored it when he looked at him like that, and feeling a bit like he wanted to be spoiled, Maxwell leaned into the other man’s touch.

It took quite some time for Maxwell to get up and moving, but unlike the last time, no one came to bother them. Andrew didn’t even check his phone, didn’t check the time, nothing, and that was a relief to Maxwell. As soon as the speeches had finished, Maxwell had stopped caring about time.

The only time Maxwell now had to worry about was their departure time for their honeymoon. That was it. Everything else? It could kick rocks. No one was supposed to reach out to him. No one was supposed to ask him to handle a sticky situation. That was all his Dad, Ben, and probably his Mom as well.

Hell, Kim would probably step in as well.

Did that mean Maxwell hadn’t noticed the slight tonal shift midway through preparations for the wedding the previous day? No, but Andrew hadn’t noticed a damn thing was off, and that was far more important. Maxwell would tell him about it later, after he’d cornered his Dad and gotten the full story.

Or, better yet, they would tell Andrew so that they could be the bad guys and Maxwell didn’t have to carry that mantle. It was better to say they weren’t the bad guys. If Maxwell was right in his assumptions, and that the fuckwad that was Andrew’s sperm donor had tried to do something, then they were actually heroes.

Hopefully the police had them in custody.

~

Andrew was the only reason that Maxwell was able to stand. It was a hard truth to admit, especially since it wasn’t under the circumstances that Maxwell normally liked. Why had he let himself go so far? Why hadn’t Andrew stopped him?

As soon as the blame came to the front of his mind, Maxwell batted it away. He couldn’t blame Andrew for his actions, and he probably had stopped Maxwell. In a classic Andrew way so that he didn’t have a bitter taste in his mouth. Had he thrown up? He felt like he should have.

"I didn’t throw up on you, did I?" Maxwell asked, his voice feeling much better as they made their way to the greenhouse. Andrew shook his head, his eyes full of love as they looked down at Maxwell. He hadn’t lost that glimmer for hours, and goddamn it, Maxwell would move mountains to keep him looking at him like that.

"No, Maxy. I was worried for a moment that you would, but instead you grabbed my ass." Andrew said, amused. Maxwell wasn’t surprised by that thought. He’d been thinking about Andrew’s ass a lot recently. It was just...too damn juicy. In the fitted pants he’d worn for the wedding and all subsequent events after, it had been held up. Accented. Highlighted.

The tailor had known exactly what Maxwell had wanted, and damn it, he could tell that several other people had noticed. Mostly Andrew’s friends from abroad. Maxwell wasn’t above saying that he was jealous. He had been, but it didn’t get far. As Maxwell had said, Andrew kept looking at him like he was his whole damn world, and it was hard to feel jealousy under that kind of gaze.

Andrew had proven to him over and over that there was no way that he would be tempted, and maybe Maxwell had felt like showing off a bit.

"Well, your pants looked really good on you." Maxwell told him and Andrew laughed. He squeezed Maxwell’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around him for support and he shook his head.

"They were just pants." Andrew told him, his eyes bright. Maxwell wanted to reach up, take his whole face in his hands and smother him in kisses. Just pepper him with aggressive, feathery kisses until the man was laughing and then kiss that laughter away.

He wasn’t in any state to do that. He was being assisted to the damn greenhouse. He’d have to wait. Maybe...he could convince Andrew to have a quickie with him on the plane?

Hmm, maybe.

"Maxy! Andy! You both live!" It was Jenny, opening the door and grinning as she caught sight of them. "Good afternoon, newlyweds! Come in, come in! Kim, could you be a dear and get Maxy some orange juice? The poor guy looks even more pale than normal."

"He doesn’t need orange juice, he needs the hair of the dog, Jenny. I’ll get it. A mimosa will fix him right up." Luis called, cutting into the other couple’s conversation. Luis pulled Maxwell and Andrew in for a hug as soon as they entered the room, squeezing them both in equal measures. "Congratulations you two. Once more, welcome to the family, Andy. Maxy, you be nice to this man. He loves you very much." Luis told him. It should have sounded harsh, but the way that his Mom’s eyes were lit up from within, Maxwell could tell they were soft words.

It was hard to believe that it was only a year or so ago that Maxwell thought his Mom was incapable of such tenderness.

"I won’t let him go." Maxwell swore. It was Andrew who had helped him live, and Maxwell was never going to let him go. Andrew’s sweet laughter filled his ears and Maxwell wondered, not for the first time, if Andrew understood how obsessed Maxwell was with him?

It didn’t matter, of course. Andrew loved him. That’s all that mattered.