Summary: Maxwell explains to Liam and Riley just how he managed to become injured while they were away on their honeymoon.
Maxwell limped through the door of the bar, a crutch under one arm, his smile warm like sunshine despite his obvious injury.
“Maxwell! What happened?” Riley slipped out from under Liam’s arm and rushed to his side, linking her elbow with his as she walked him to the table where the rest of their friends were seated.
“Aw, it’s nothing! I didn’t want to complain about it while you guys were on your honeymoon.” He slid awkwardly into the booth with a little help from Riley.
“I wouldn’t say it was nothing,” Drake corrected, rolling his eyes. “He’s trying to play it cool but he loves telling the story.”
Maxwell blushed, waving the server over to order a beer. “You’re going to laugh,” he warned Riley.
“I’m sure we won’t laugh at you getting hurt, Maxwell,” Liam assured him seriously.
Hana giggled. “I think you will.”
Maxwell’s beer arrived and he took a long drink for dramatic effect, all eyes on him. With the pint more than half gone, he slammed the glass down on the table a little too hard, took a deep breath, and began the story. “So…Drake wanted to go dancing.”
“I can’t believe you dragged me out to go fucking dancing,” Drake grumbled in the back of the Beaumont limousine. “And do we really need to take this ridiculous limo?”
“Yes!” Maxwell exclaimed, bouncing in his seat so hard his glass of champagne sloshed onto the leather seats. Bertrand stared daggers at him as he passed him a napkin.
“I think it’ll be fun!” Hana chirped. “It was so sweet of you to remember my birthday, Maxwell.”
Maxwell stared at her with wide-eyed horror for a moment before replacing it with another big smile. “Yes…of course! We are going out for Hana’s birthday! I’m the greatest friend in the world!”
She smiled and took a small sip of champagne. “I look forward to seeing your legendary dance moves, Maxwell.”
“My moves are legendary, of course.”
Liam nodded politely. “So we’ve heard.”
“So you’ve seen.”
“Of course, that’s what he meant,” Riley interjected. “Back to the story, Maxwell! What happened at the club?”
Drake scowled as sweaty young men and women bumped against him on the dance floor. Maxwell grabbed his hands and swung them about limply, trying to force him to have fun. “Why are you like this?” he half-yelled, half-laughed into his ear.
“I just want to sit down and have a drink,” Drake yelled back, struggling to be heard over the pounding bass.
“You want to have a dance-off?” Maxwell yelled back, loud enough for the crowd around them to hear.
“Absolutely no–” Drake’s response was cut off by the chants from the crowd around them.
Dance off! Dance off! Dance off!
Drake grabbed Maxwell by the sleeve and pulled his face close. “I fucking hate you,” he hissed into his ear.
Maxwell pulled him into a hug. “Love you too buddy. Let’s do this!”
“Hold on…you got Drake to have a dance off with you?”
“No,” Drake answered emphatically.
“It was a very one-sided dance off,” Hana clarified. “More like Maxwell danced while Drake scowled at him.”
“Ah,” Riley nodded. “That sounds about right.”
“So I’m completely crushing it on the dance floor. A crowd is forming. I can already tell this moment is going to go down in Beaumont history. And the song is coming to a close, and I know I’ve gotta finish big.”
“Come on, Drake!” Hana nudged him encouragingly. “Show him what you can do!”
Drake stood in place, bouncing on his toes slightly, and took a swig of his whiskey. “No.”
Maxwell was undeterred but exhausted, relaxing into an easy moonwalk across the floor. “Big finale’s coming!” he announced. “Now or never, big guy.”
“Ah, fuck it.” Drake handed Hana his empty glass and started doing a simple step-touch, swaying back and forth drunkenly and breaking out into an involuntary grin as the crowd went wild. He bowed with a flourish before giving the floor back to Maxwell.
“You ready for this?” Maxwell busted out a flurry of intense, frenzied moves. The song built to a crescendo, and then…
“Wait wait wait. You’re telling me Drake danced?”
“Riley! I’m just getting to the important part!”
“No, she’s right,” Liam agreed. “I want to hear more about Drake dancing.”
Maxwell gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you want to know what happened or not?”
“Fine, fine. Tell the story.”
“So the song was coming to a close, and I knew this was my moment. All eyes were on me. It was time to really wow them.”
The song built to a crescendo, and the crowd was going wild. They started chanting.
Max-well! Max-well! Max-well!
He took a deep breath, letting the attention flow through him like a drug. And then he dropped.
The song ended, and the club was silent for a split second as everyone gaped in surprise.
Maxwell was on the ground in a full split.
A cheer broke out, the crowd roaring its approval.
Maxwell screamed.
“You what?” Riley leaned across the table, staring at him in horror.
“Tore my hamstring. Real bad. Doctor says it might need surgery.”
“Maxwell! How did you even get out of the club?”
Drake groaned. “Bertrand, Hana and I had to carry him out. Lied him down on the floor of the limo stiff as a board because he couldn’t bend his goddamn leg.”
“Oh, like you’re some big hero helping me home,” Maxwell answered, bitterness finally creeping into his voice.
Drake rolled his eyes again. “We did help you home.”
“And then what did you do?” Maxwell raised his eyebrows at him, waiting for an answer.
“Drake?” Liam asked, “What did you do?”
“They rolled me into the foyer and left me there.”
“You what?” Riley very nearly spit her drink out all over Maxwell.
“He wouldn’t walk!” Drake insisted. “It was like dragging around a dead body!”
“I’m sorry, Maxwell,” Hana offered. “It really was very difficult to move you.”
“Wow.” Liam relaxed into the banquet, stifling a chuckle. “So you just…spent the night on the floor?”
“What choice did I have?”
Riley squeezed her lips together, desperately trying not to laugh.
Liam valiantly carried the conversation. “And what happened when you woke up there in the morning?”
Maxwell frowned. “I had to go to the bathroom.”
“No.” Even Liam was losing his composure now.
“I managed to roll to the bathroom.”
Riley couldn’t hold it in anymore. She let out an abrupt bark of laughter, dissolving into endless giggles. Tears streamed down her face. “You…didn’t…”
Maxwell looked down into his glass, unable to make eye contact with anyone. “I couldn’t stand up so I just kind of…”
“No,” Liam repeated emphatically. “You didn’t.”
“I tried to get it all on the bath mat. It’s pretty absorbent…”
Liam lost it, slapping his hand against the tabletop much too loud as he doubled over laughing. “No.”
“When Bertrand found me he…”
“Stop,” Riley wailed. “Maxwell, for the love of god, I get it. You hurt yourself dancing. That was enough information.”
He looked back up from his drink, giving a shy smile. “Right. Anyway, I’m glad you guys are back.”
“Why’s that?” Liam asked, wiping tears from his eyes with a handkerchief.
“Because if you were there, you would have taken me to the hospital like a real friend.”
“Hey now,” Drake jumped in, “In my defense…”
“…Yes?” Maxwell stared at him expectantly.
“Um…” Drake stalled awkwardly. “Yeah, OK. I’m glad Liam is back too.”