[For Maxxie] Timed to the evening of 9 November 2011.

[well_yeah_but]

Tony Stonem is not used to feeling insecure. It's not simply difficult, it's distasteful, and when it sneaks in he always meets it with a measure of affronted disdain, as if he cannot believe such a base and ridiculous emotion would dare set its dirty feet in the temple of his own mind

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[dancin_maxxie]

It's not exactly right to say that Maxxie's pleased to see Tony, only because he knows. Maxxie knows -- or thinks he knows with so much confidence that there's no real difference -- why Tony's at his door now. There's a blond American boy who looks a lot like Maxxie walking around; Maxxie knows because he helped deliver him to Billy's doorstep. A part of him has been expecting Tony to show up since the minute Teddy introduced himself.

But expecting it to happen, worrying that it will happen, that's different from the small flare of warmth in his chest that comes with Tony's appearance. The island's fucking with them -- Tony and Billy and Teddy -- and that sucks. But Tony's come to Maxxie's door when he needs help and that doesn't suck at all. At least, not how Maxxie sees it.

That comes second, too, to Tony's words. Maxxie looks him over with a frown of worry, searching for bruises or hurts. "What happened?" he asks as he immediately closes the distance between them. "Are you hurt?"

[well_yeah_but]

"Not much," Tony replies without moving from his perch against the doorway, although he hasn't taken the time to look at his back in a mirror yet. The bruises probably won't be as bad as he'd prefer, but he doesn't doubt that they'll be there. Teddy certainly isn't lacking for strength.

"You know," he adds, because even if Maxxie's feelings didn't perpetually sit as clearly upon his face as if they'd been writ there, he's failed to ask a critical question: By whom?

[dancin_maxxie]

It's not a satisfactory answer, and Maxxie's about to point that out when Tony cuts him off. His hand stills on its way to Tony's arm, but the hesitation doesn't last long. He rests his hand on the other boy's bicep and glances up, his look just shy of guilty. It's not really guilt, after all. It's the knowledge that Tony's got to be upset and even Maxxie thinks, somehow, that he shouldn't know that.

"I know Teddy showed up," he admits. "Was it him?"

[well_yeah_but]

"Wasn't too happy to hear Billy had another boyfriend," Tony replies with a shrug. "Fairly certain he wanted to do more, but that wouldn't have looked terribly good, would it? Can't be tarnishing the pristine reputation of Saint Teddy." He rolls his eyes with the sort of genuine disdain that has nothing to do with propping up pride. Tony doesn't need it, not even now.

"He looks nothing like you," he quietly adds, because the differences seem all the more acute in retrospect. He tugs a hand free from his trouser pocket and brushes his warm thumb across Maxxie's bottom lip. "Not as clever nor graceful."