Frustration
Maximus is a cock blocker
For Fabs' birthday! ❤ I love Fabs! ❤
And for Fic Bingo
2,945 Words
Warnings for sexy times and also lack of sexy times
---
Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem was directly, using words and talking it out like rational adults.
However, Eugene wasn't used to addressing his problems head on. He was used to slipping around his problems or ignoring them. Why would you walk in through the door and set yourself up for a fight, when you could repel down from the ceiling and look bad assed doing it? No, involving himself in a direct conflict opened the door for the chance that he might lose.
And although he was a spectacularly rational person, some people (who were clearly less rational than he was) disagreed.
And although he was an adult in many, many senses of the word, constructive discussion of his disagreements always ended up being less constructive and more inflammatory. Why should he treat the captain with respect and hold a decent conversation with the man, when he turned such an entertaining shade of red when provoked? This just seemed like common sense to Eugene.
But after a few weeks of his usual strategies - avoidance, snotty comments, sarcasm, and glowering - he began to realize that he wasn't getting results and he would need to find a different solution.. In a way, this decision was invigorating. The situation turned from a perpetual annoyance that threatened to drive him crazier and crazier until he imploded (figuratively or literally), into a problem that could and would be solved. It focused all the itching, surging energy in his stomach towards a cause:
Max had to quit cock blocking him.
At first it wasn't so bad.
“Let's have a picnic!” Rapunzel said, bouncing up and down and then dragging him out to the forest. But then her mouth tasted like ripe strawberries and the shadow of the tree leaves danced across her bare arms, subtle and hypnotizing, the pattern at odds with how smooth and soft her skin felt beneath his hands.
“Let's go fishing!” she squealed, shoving a fishing pole into his hand and plopping down on the river bank to untangle a nasty knot of line. Despite Eugene's informed skepticism, she thought they would catch a whole basket full of fish. He was relieved to see that she kept smiling, unconcerned when this was not the case. She grew distracted, and in one of the long moments of quiet, reached out, tracing two fingers down the side of his throat - carefully, gently, intently - from the junction of his jaw to the hollow of his collarbone. His skin erupted into gooseflesh and a shiver rolled - cold and hot and startled and needy - down his spine into his arms, his hands clenching around his forgotten fishing rod.
How could she do so little, and set him off so much?
“Let's play tag!” she shouted, shoving him lightly and running away through the grass, lifting her skirts so she wouldn't stumble, flashing calf and petticoat. He would grab her around the waist, scooping her into the air and spinning her around as she shrieked and giggled, as her cheeks flushed and she panted for breath. Or when she was it, she'd tackle him to the ground, and locked together, they'd roll and tumble until one of them managed to pin the other to the forest floor, chests heaving, eyes locked. A gentle movement of her hips as she breathed, an unconscious gesture was so inviting it made him ache. Her hands fisted in his hair, to pull him deeper, pull him into a passionate frenzy, possessing him, claiming him.
He would have given in so very easily.
But no. At every turn, Max would wander up, happy to be outside in the spring air, or huffy that he'd stepped in something gross, or completely confused as to how he had come to be there. And Rapunzel would laugh, breaking their kiss and slipping from Eugene's arms to greet her friend and ask about his day and pet his head and help him clean his hoof.
She never seemed too concerned to leave Eugene hanging. Like it wasn't a big deal at all. Like it had been fun, but they were about done anyway, right? And she had a point, they really never got up to much and it shouldn't leave him as warm and winded and insanely irritable as it did.
Kinda pathetic, really.
He didn't think Max meant to interrupt them. Sometimes he even doubted that Max noticed, which was all the more depressing because it meant that objectively there hadn't been anything to interrupt. Maximus was not there to police Rapunzel's chastity or save her from corruption by her unnervingly handsome, roguish boyfriend. No, the dumb horse was just oblivious and had a bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Or at least that's what Eugene assumed. If Max knew what he was doing, there would surely be a lot more glaring and angry shoving involved and then there would be those smug looks over Rapunzel's shoulder when he was successful.
At first it wasn't so bad. But lately... Eugene was getting antsy. He could wait if that's what she wanted. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that she didn't want to wait and her advances were growing more intense by the day. She slammed him into a wall yesterday and pulled a muscle in his neck when she dragged him down to sloppily suck his earlobe into her mouth and drag her tongue down the column of his throat. It was great.
Interrupting hand holding was one thing, interrupting something decidedly less chaste was another. He wound tighter and tighter with every encounter. She did too, and watching her pain and frustration was almost as bad as experiencing it himself... Well, no, it wasn't, but it still sucked.
And not sucked in a good way.
And then he was worried that if they ever really got a chance, it was going to be rushed and careless. It'd be a release of tension rather than a deep display of affection. He didn't want that for her first time. Hell, he didn't want that for his first time with her.
There had to be a swear word somewhere that meant to opposite of Fuck. The opposite of Fuck, but still a new level of cursing, one that meant the epic agony involved in sexual frustration. He was going to find that word, bring it into vogue, then say it all the damned time.
Now, the obvious solution to this problem was to make sexy times a strictly indoor activity. There wasn't much danger in Max barging into the library while he read to her and she snuggled up with him in an arm chair. At the exciting parts of the story, her eyes would grow wide and she would gasp in all the right places. If she got really into it, she would snatch the book away and read it aloud herself in order to read faster and put a quick end to the suspense. Her voice would be breathy, and she would wriggle in excitement, and he would absently run a hand through her hair, over her back, watching her with a stupid smile on his face.
When the story resolved itself, she would let the book fall to her lap, breathe a sigh of relief, and then turn to kiss him. The quality of the book's resolution and the level of excitement from the conflict were directly proportional to the enthusiasm of her kisses. Having discovered this, Eugene had spent hours scouring the library for stories that would have her on the edge of her seat.
Max wouldn't interrupt them.
But a guard would.
They were everywhere. Everywhere. They liked to pop out from behind columns. They liked to hide under tables. They liked to stay very quiet in broom closets in order to leap out at the least convenient moment.
Or so it seemed.
They did follow him from room to room. He suspected that they had figured out his schedule and then arranged their patrol routes and guard stations so that they could always watch him.
Every time he managed to lose one, he would turn a corner and run into two more.
Why weren't they this determined when he was a criminal? Why weren't they this diligent when the baby princess was stolen out of her bedroom?
Mysteries upon mysteries.
Outside the castle was the only place to lose them. And that worked because Rapunzel loved to go outside. Sunshine got her all giddy.
So Eugene rolled up his sleeves, straightened his spine, cleared his throat, and marched into Maximus' stable, unsure if he should be prepared for battle or if he should have thought up some charming things to say. Definitely battle. Being charming never worked on the horse.
Max looked up from a trough of grains, a few barley strands sticking from his mouth in odd directions. His face immediately fell into a look of skepticism, and he began chewing more slowly, watching his visitor carefully.
Eugene waved, feeling awkward despite his best efforts.
Max raised an eyebrow.
Start with small talk, he told himself. He needed to remind him that they're friends and he wasn't just there because he needed something.
Eugene smiled. It was his “winning smile”, which was sure to work. "Hey. How's your day going?"
Max stopped chewing completely.
"Nice hay?"
Nothing.
"You been enjoying the weather?"
Max backed up slightly, clearly thinking Eugene was deficient.
Ugg. "Fine. Alright. I need a favor.”
This did not help Max's attitude, as he pulled back further and narrowed his eyes.
“When we're... when... No. Alright. You know how you tend to show up when Rapunzel and I are having a - a quiet moment?”
Max blinked at him. Quiet moment?
“Alone time?”
Still confused.
“... Grown up alone time. Me and her... And not you.”
What he was saying dawned on the horse slowly (God, this was the strangest thing he'd ever done.) Then Max gasped as much as a horse can gasp, which came out like a combination whinny/snort.
Ah good. They were on the same page now. Kinda.
“Yeah. You need to stop interrupting us. It's getting annoying.”
Max had the most horror-struck look on his face of anyone he'd ever seen. And Eugene had seen the faces of people who just realized that they'd let the Lost Princess' tiara vanish from three feet away from them. He'd seen the faces of people about to get hit with two thousand tons of water from a collapsed damn.
Good! Now that Max realized how intrusive he'd been, the whole issue would be put to rest. He'd known it would be easy once he put his mind to it. No sweat at all. He just hoped that Max wasn't too embarrassed by his behavior. It was fine. Everyone made mistakes.
He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “It's not your fault. Don't worry. You just have bad timing. Really terrible. You should work on it. Maybe with some practice it'll come to you eventually.”
Before he could congratulate himself further, Max's shock turned to anger, and Eugene had only a moment to scramble back as Max stomped forward with a ferocious glare and spit the grains in his mouth at Eugene's face. Bits of oats bounced off his face and stuck in his hair.
Okay, so maybe Maximus was shocked and upset for different reasons. Who knew?
“Whoa! Whoa!” His back pressed against the side of the stable, the vengeful bulk of dog-like war horse standing between him and the only escape. His hands snapped up in surrender. “Okay! Yeah. You're right. Your timing's impeccable. Amazing! Great job! Do they give awards for that? 'Cause you should get one.”
Glare.
“Hey, I'm not doing anything wrong.”
Max's breathing seemed to deepen, as if he was holding himself back from stomping him to a bloody pulp.
“Oh come on. What do you want me to do here?”
Stay away from Rapunzel and quit being such a pervert.
“Pft. Yeah. Like that's gonna happen.”
Max shoved him. Hard. Forcing the air from his lungs and causing him to stumble and barely dodge another shove from Max's shoulder as he nickered and pranced, waiting for Eugene to fall so he could step on him repeatedly.
“You obnoxious bag of horse snot!” he shouted, finding his footing enough to push his sleeve up in determination, getting right in Max's face and pointing an accusing finger that could easily turn into a fist. “I'm telling you to back out of my business or I'll cart you off to a petting zoo to give rides to sticky kids.”
Max gave an affronted horse snort-sneeze at this threat, his ears plastering back against his head. Then he glared with all his might, shoving the whole length of his nose back in Eugene's face.
Bring it on, loser.
Eugene snarled, pushing back against the stupid, cock blocking monstrosity.
It's really hard to get in a horse's face and stare it down, eye to eye. First of all, Max's eyes were a bit too far apart, and Eugene had to constantly shift his gaze back and forth between them, which was decidedly less intimidating than a cold, hard unflinching glare. Secondly, Eugene had always felt that part of getting in someone's face was puffing out your chest to look bigger, and this didn't really work because given the shape of Max's body, he couldn't really do that. This gave the impression that Max didn't care nearly as much about this clash of wills. It made it look like Eugene was an idiot for getting this dramatic, which he definitely was, but pointing it out was a low blow.
Plus, Max was much taller than him if he stood up straight, and in Eugene's experience, staring down someone bigger than you only worked like 60% of the time.
This was clearly not going to work.
As Rapunzel was fond of saying, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Her discovery of this phrase led to a week of experiments involving luring flies with various substances she guessed that flies would like. The good news was that there weren't terribly many flies around to lure. The bad news was that they then had to go out and search the more smelly areas of Corona to find some.
She then decided that it would be more fun to try to catch a bear with honey. The king heartily approved of this and enthusiastically offered to take Rapunzel bear hunting. Rapunzel enthusiastically agreed, until Eugene stepped in and talked her out of it. Someday she would learn what bear hunting really entailed, and someday she would learn that bears weren't actually hugable, but he figured that that lesson could be put off for at least another month.
He took a deep breath and calmed himself, stepping back and away as much as he could given he was still partially trapped against a wall. He hoped that his calm would somehow rub off on Maximus and they could go back to having a decent conversation. The horse only backed down a little bit, taking a half step back as well.
“Look... buddy...”
Sooo not your buddy.
“... I'm just asking you to do me a favor - do us a favor. You like Rapunzel, right?”
Max though about this, then nodded slowly, sensing a trap.
“And you want her to be happy.”
Nod.
“This would make her happy.”
Max snorted noisily, collapsing the carefully constructed logical argument Eugene had built, clearly thinking that the man thought far too highly of himself.
His calm fizzled along with his argument. “No, seriously! You can ask her.” He gestured behind him, towards the castle, as if presenting Rapunzel to be questioned about her preferences.
It sounded sketchy when phrased like that, but she would probably enjoy such a conversation.
Max refused to believe him.
Alright. A slight adjustment to his methods was required.
“You know,” he said, “If you do this for me, if you back off just a little, give us just a little bit of privacy, I can make it worth your while. Apples from the kitchens? They always get the best. Super juicy. Mouth warteringly delicious. Delivered straight to you. And all you have to do is not follow us around. So simple! What a great deal! Do nothing, get something fantastic! What do you think of that?”
Max looked absolutely scandalized. Him! An honorable, devoted representative of Corona's finest! The best law enforcement Corona had and most like would ever have! Accept bribes!
Such insult on him and everything he ever stood for! Good God, he felt dirty just thinking about it. He balked and shuddered, then grabbed Eugene by the shoulder of his vest and tossed him out of his stable. Such disgusting behavior was not welcome in his home.
Eugene hit the door to the next stable with an oof, his hair and vest in disarray covered in bits of horse food and Max spit. He sniffed, glaring at Max and tugging his vest back into place.
Max gestured with one hoof, pointing at his eyes then at his foe.
Now I really am watching you.
Then he turned and kicked his stable door closed, slamming it in Eugene's face.
He'd made things worse.
… Fuck.
… Opposite of Fuck.
Now he'd need an even more cunning plan.
For Fabs' birthday! ❤ I love Fabs! ❤
And for Fic Bingo
2,945 Words
Warnings for sexy times and also lack of sexy times
---
Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem was directly, using words and talking it out like rational adults.
However, Eugene wasn't used to addressing his problems head on. He was used to slipping around his problems or ignoring them. Why would you walk in through the door and set yourself up for a fight, when you could repel down from the ceiling and look bad assed doing it? No, involving himself in a direct conflict opened the door for the chance that he might lose.
And although he was a spectacularly rational person, some people (who were clearly less rational than he was) disagreed.
And although he was an adult in many, many senses of the word, constructive discussion of his disagreements always ended up being less constructive and more inflammatory. Why should he treat the captain with respect and hold a decent conversation with the man, when he turned such an entertaining shade of red when provoked? This just seemed like common sense to Eugene.
But after a few weeks of his usual strategies - avoidance, snotty comments, sarcasm, and glowering - he began to realize that he wasn't getting results and he would need to find a different solution.. In a way, this decision was invigorating. The situation turned from a perpetual annoyance that threatened to drive him crazier and crazier until he imploded (figuratively or literally), into a problem that could and would be solved. It focused all the itching, surging energy in his stomach towards a cause:
Max had to quit cock blocking him.
At first it wasn't so bad.
“Let's have a picnic!” Rapunzel said, bouncing up and down and then dragging him out to the forest. But then her mouth tasted like ripe strawberries and the shadow of the tree leaves danced across her bare arms, subtle and hypnotizing, the pattern at odds with how smooth and soft her skin felt beneath his hands.
“Let's go fishing!” she squealed, shoving a fishing pole into his hand and plopping down on the river bank to untangle a nasty knot of line. Despite Eugene's informed skepticism, she thought they would catch a whole basket full of fish. He was relieved to see that she kept smiling, unconcerned when this was not the case. She grew distracted, and in one of the long moments of quiet, reached out, tracing two fingers down the side of his throat - carefully, gently, intently - from the junction of his jaw to the hollow of his collarbone. His skin erupted into gooseflesh and a shiver rolled - cold and hot and startled and needy - down his spine into his arms, his hands clenching around his forgotten fishing rod.
How could she do so little, and set him off so much?
“Let's play tag!” she shouted, shoving him lightly and running away through the grass, lifting her skirts so she wouldn't stumble, flashing calf and petticoat. He would grab her around the waist, scooping her into the air and spinning her around as she shrieked and giggled, as her cheeks flushed and she panted for breath. Or when she was it, she'd tackle him to the ground, and locked together, they'd roll and tumble until one of them managed to pin the other to the forest floor, chests heaving, eyes locked. A gentle movement of her hips as she breathed, an unconscious gesture was so inviting it made him ache. Her hands fisted in his hair, to pull him deeper, pull him into a passionate frenzy, possessing him, claiming him.
He would have given in so very easily.
But no. At every turn, Max would wander up, happy to be outside in the spring air, or huffy that he'd stepped in something gross, or completely confused as to how he had come to be there. And Rapunzel would laugh, breaking their kiss and slipping from Eugene's arms to greet her friend and ask about his day and pet his head and help him clean his hoof.
She never seemed too concerned to leave Eugene hanging. Like it wasn't a big deal at all. Like it had been fun, but they were about done anyway, right? And she had a point, they really never got up to much and it shouldn't leave him as warm and winded and insanely irritable as it did.
Kinda pathetic, really.
He didn't think Max meant to interrupt them. Sometimes he even doubted that Max noticed, which was all the more depressing because it meant that objectively there hadn't been anything to interrupt. Maximus was not there to police Rapunzel's chastity or save her from corruption by her unnervingly handsome, roguish boyfriend. No, the dumb horse was just oblivious and had a bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Or at least that's what Eugene assumed. If Max knew what he was doing, there would surely be a lot more glaring and angry shoving involved and then there would be those smug looks over Rapunzel's shoulder when he was successful.
At first it wasn't so bad. But lately... Eugene was getting antsy. He could wait if that's what she wanted. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that she didn't want to wait and her advances were growing more intense by the day. She slammed him into a wall yesterday and pulled a muscle in his neck when she dragged him down to sloppily suck his earlobe into her mouth and drag her tongue down the column of his throat. It was great.
Interrupting hand holding was one thing, interrupting something decidedly less chaste was another. He wound tighter and tighter with every encounter. She did too, and watching her pain and frustration was almost as bad as experiencing it himself... Well, no, it wasn't, but it still sucked.
And not sucked in a good way.
And then he was worried that if they ever really got a chance, it was going to be rushed and careless. It'd be a release of tension rather than a deep display of affection. He didn't want that for her first time. Hell, he didn't want that for his first time with her.
There had to be a swear word somewhere that meant to opposite of Fuck. The opposite of Fuck, but still a new level of cursing, one that meant the epic agony involved in sexual frustration. He was going to find that word, bring it into vogue, then say it all the damned time.
Now, the obvious solution to this problem was to make sexy times a strictly indoor activity. There wasn't much danger in Max barging into the library while he read to her and she snuggled up with him in an arm chair. At the exciting parts of the story, her eyes would grow wide and she would gasp in all the right places. If she got really into it, she would snatch the book away and read it aloud herself in order to read faster and put a quick end to the suspense. Her voice would be breathy, and she would wriggle in excitement, and he would absently run a hand through her hair, over her back, watching her with a stupid smile on his face.
When the story resolved itself, she would let the book fall to her lap, breathe a sigh of relief, and then turn to kiss him. The quality of the book's resolution and the level of excitement from the conflict were directly proportional to the enthusiasm of her kisses. Having discovered this, Eugene had spent hours scouring the library for stories that would have her on the edge of her seat.
Max wouldn't interrupt them.
But a guard would.
They were everywhere. Everywhere. They liked to pop out from behind columns. They liked to hide under tables. They liked to stay very quiet in broom closets in order to leap out at the least convenient moment.
Or so it seemed.
They did follow him from room to room. He suspected that they had figured out his schedule and then arranged their patrol routes and guard stations so that they could always watch him.
Every time he managed to lose one, he would turn a corner and run into two more.
Why weren't they this determined when he was a criminal? Why weren't they this diligent when the baby princess was stolen out of her bedroom?
Mysteries upon mysteries.
Outside the castle was the only place to lose them. And that worked because Rapunzel loved to go outside. Sunshine got her all giddy.
So Eugene rolled up his sleeves, straightened his spine, cleared his throat, and marched into Maximus' stable, unsure if he should be prepared for battle or if he should have thought up some charming things to say. Definitely battle. Being charming never worked on the horse.
Max looked up from a trough of grains, a few barley strands sticking from his mouth in odd directions. His face immediately fell into a look of skepticism, and he began chewing more slowly, watching his visitor carefully.
Eugene waved, feeling awkward despite his best efforts.
Max raised an eyebrow.
Start with small talk, he told himself. He needed to remind him that they're friends and he wasn't just there because he needed something.
Eugene smiled. It was his “winning smile”, which was sure to work. "Hey. How's your day going?"
Max stopped chewing completely.
"Nice hay?"
Nothing.
"You been enjoying the weather?"
Max backed up slightly, clearly thinking Eugene was deficient.
Ugg. "Fine. Alright. I need a favor.”
This did not help Max's attitude, as he pulled back further and narrowed his eyes.
“When we're... when... No. Alright. You know how you tend to show up when Rapunzel and I are having a - a quiet moment?”
Max blinked at him. Quiet moment?
“Alone time?”
Still confused.
“... Grown up alone time. Me and her... And not you.”
What he was saying dawned on the horse slowly (God, this was the strangest thing he'd ever done.) Then Max gasped as much as a horse can gasp, which came out like a combination whinny/snort.
Ah good. They were on the same page now. Kinda.
“Yeah. You need to stop interrupting us. It's getting annoying.”
Max had the most horror-struck look on his face of anyone he'd ever seen. And Eugene had seen the faces of people who just realized that they'd let the Lost Princess' tiara vanish from three feet away from them. He'd seen the faces of people about to get hit with two thousand tons of water from a collapsed damn.
Good! Now that Max realized how intrusive he'd been, the whole issue would be put to rest. He'd known it would be easy once he put his mind to it. No sweat at all. He just hoped that Max wasn't too embarrassed by his behavior. It was fine. Everyone made mistakes.
He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “It's not your fault. Don't worry. You just have bad timing. Really terrible. You should work on it. Maybe with some practice it'll come to you eventually.”
Before he could congratulate himself further, Max's shock turned to anger, and Eugene had only a moment to scramble back as Max stomped forward with a ferocious glare and spit the grains in his mouth at Eugene's face. Bits of oats bounced off his face and stuck in his hair.
Okay, so maybe Maximus was shocked and upset for different reasons. Who knew?
“Whoa! Whoa!” His back pressed against the side of the stable, the vengeful bulk of dog-like war horse standing between him and the only escape. His hands snapped up in surrender. “Okay! Yeah. You're right. Your timing's impeccable. Amazing! Great job! Do they give awards for that? 'Cause you should get one.”
Glare.
“Hey, I'm not doing anything wrong.”
Max's breathing seemed to deepen, as if he was holding himself back from stomping him to a bloody pulp.
“Oh come on. What do you want me to do here?”
Stay away from Rapunzel and quit being such a pervert.
“Pft. Yeah. Like that's gonna happen.”
Max shoved him. Hard. Forcing the air from his lungs and causing him to stumble and barely dodge another shove from Max's shoulder as he nickered and pranced, waiting for Eugene to fall so he could step on him repeatedly.
“You obnoxious bag of horse snot!” he shouted, finding his footing enough to push his sleeve up in determination, getting right in Max's face and pointing an accusing finger that could easily turn into a fist. “I'm telling you to back out of my business or I'll cart you off to a petting zoo to give rides to sticky kids.”
Max gave an affronted horse snort-sneeze at this threat, his ears plastering back against his head. Then he glared with all his might, shoving the whole length of his nose back in Eugene's face.
Bring it on, loser.
Eugene snarled, pushing back against the stupid, cock blocking monstrosity.
It's really hard to get in a horse's face and stare it down, eye to eye. First of all, Max's eyes were a bit too far apart, and Eugene had to constantly shift his gaze back and forth between them, which was decidedly less intimidating than a cold, hard unflinching glare. Secondly, Eugene had always felt that part of getting in someone's face was puffing out your chest to look bigger, and this didn't really work because given the shape of Max's body, he couldn't really do that. This gave the impression that Max didn't care nearly as much about this clash of wills. It made it look like Eugene was an idiot for getting this dramatic, which he definitely was, but pointing it out was a low blow.
Plus, Max was much taller than him if he stood up straight, and in Eugene's experience, staring down someone bigger than you only worked like 60% of the time.
This was clearly not going to work.
As Rapunzel was fond of saying, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Her discovery of this phrase led to a week of experiments involving luring flies with various substances she guessed that flies would like. The good news was that there weren't terribly many flies around to lure. The bad news was that they then had to go out and search the more smelly areas of Corona to find some.
She then decided that it would be more fun to try to catch a bear with honey. The king heartily approved of this and enthusiastically offered to take Rapunzel bear hunting. Rapunzel enthusiastically agreed, until Eugene stepped in and talked her out of it. Someday she would learn what bear hunting really entailed, and someday she would learn that bears weren't actually hugable, but he figured that that lesson could be put off for at least another month.
He took a deep breath and calmed himself, stepping back and away as much as he could given he was still partially trapped against a wall. He hoped that his calm would somehow rub off on Maximus and they could go back to having a decent conversation. The horse only backed down a little bit, taking a half step back as well.
“Look... buddy...”
Sooo not your buddy.
“... I'm just asking you to do me a favor - do us a favor. You like Rapunzel, right?”
Max though about this, then nodded slowly, sensing a trap.
“And you want her to be happy.”
Nod.
“This would make her happy.”
Max snorted noisily, collapsing the carefully constructed logical argument Eugene had built, clearly thinking that the man thought far too highly of himself.
His calm fizzled along with his argument. “No, seriously! You can ask her.” He gestured behind him, towards the castle, as if presenting Rapunzel to be questioned about her preferences.
It sounded sketchy when phrased like that, but she would probably enjoy such a conversation.
Max refused to believe him.
Alright. A slight adjustment to his methods was required.
“You know,” he said, “If you do this for me, if you back off just a little, give us just a little bit of privacy, I can make it worth your while. Apples from the kitchens? They always get the best. Super juicy. Mouth warteringly delicious. Delivered straight to you. And all you have to do is not follow us around. So simple! What a great deal! Do nothing, get something fantastic! What do you think of that?”
Max looked absolutely scandalized. Him! An honorable, devoted representative of Corona's finest! The best law enforcement Corona had and most like would ever have! Accept bribes!
Such insult on him and everything he ever stood for! Good God, he felt dirty just thinking about it. He balked and shuddered, then grabbed Eugene by the shoulder of his vest and tossed him out of his stable. Such disgusting behavior was not welcome in his home.
Eugene hit the door to the next stable with an oof, his hair and vest in disarray covered in bits of horse food and Max spit. He sniffed, glaring at Max and tugging his vest back into place.
Max gestured with one hoof, pointing at his eyes then at his foe.
Now I really am watching you.
Then he turned and kicked his stable door closed, slamming it in Eugene's face.
He'd made things worse.
… Fuck.
… Opposite of Fuck.
Now he'd need an even more cunning plan.