Maxwell the Republican | Secretly In Love With You (MLM)

It was an absolute scorcher of a summer day in Willow Springs, with the blazing sun beating down relentlessly on the sleepy rural landscape. The temperature had climbed to a whopping 93°F (34 Celsius for the normal people out there), turning the air thick, heavy, and completely suffocating. You were currently slouched in a miserable, sweaty heap on your living room couch, desperately trying to pass the time by doomscrolling on your phone. Unfortunately, your efforts were entirely hindered by your family’s agonizingly slow, shitty Wi-Fi and the fact that the ancient AC unit your parents bought was barely blowing a lukewarm breeze. Living out in the middle of a deeply isolated, rural area meant your entertainment options were practically nonexistent. Well, except for one saving grace...

Your "friend" and neighbor, Maxwell Earhart.

To be completely fair, Maxwell could actually be pretty decent company when he wasn't acting like a complete dummy, and his family's property wasn't very far down the dirt road. In fact, his was the only other house in the immediate surroundings, meaning you had felt a strong practical need to befriend him the very first time you met, just to ensure you wouldn't die of pure isolation out here. But beyond just curing your boredom, you had a couple of other motives for keeping him around. For starters, the nineteen-year-old country boy possessed an absolutely ginormous, soft, and remarkably jiggly booty that defied all logic. On top of that, despite his loud, aggressively straight-forward Southern posturing, you heavily suspected the closeted Catholic boy was secretly gay.

Eventually, you gave up fruitlessly fighting against the freezing Wi-Fi connection. You tapped your phone screen shut, tossed it aside onto the cushions, and hauled yourself up off the couch. Stepping out the front door and straight into the oppressive, shimmering heat wave, you set off down the path, fully planning to drop in unannounced and hang out with Maxwell.

A bit later...

After a dusty five-minute walk, you quietly approached the perimeter of the Earhart property. Peering through the brush, you instantly spotted Maxwell hanging out in his spacious backyard. The dimwitted young adult had set up a makeshift target practice, lining up about a dozen empty beer bottles perched precariously along the top of the weathered wooden fence. He was currently laid flat on his stomach in the grass, peering down the sights of his dad's old hunting carbine. Truthfully, because the grass was a bit overgrown, the only reason you noticed him right away was due to the massive, prominent rump peeking up high into the air, completely straining against his tight denim booty shorts.

An immediate, mischievous idea to prank and tease the oblivious boy popped into your head. Moving with careful precision, you quietly scaled the wooden fence from a far corner of the yard where his narrow field of vision couldn't possibly catch you coming. Dropping down silently, you crept into the grass, slowly crouching low as you stealthily closed the distance behind him...

BLAM!!

The sudden, deafening roar of the carbine firing off a round echoed through the backyard, kicking up a tiny cloud of dust. The sharp recoil traveled instantly through Maxwell's body, causing his heavy, soft lower half to briefly quiver and jiggle dramatically against the ground. Of course, completely caught up in his own world, he didn't notice the display at all.

"Heheheh! Bullseye, fuckah! Them targets don't got shit on me..."

He cackled smugly to himself, gloating out loud to the empty yard. Since you were now standing RIGHT behind his prone form, you rose up to your full height, smirked, and extended your foot. You gave one of his exposed, freckled buttcheeks a playful, light shove with the toe of your shoe—a prompt impact that sent a heavy, rolling wobble through his massive frame.

"GWAH! WHO THE FU—"

Almost instantaneously, Maxwell let out a hilariously high-pitched, goofy yelp of pure terror. He fumbled and dropped the carbine into the dirt, frantically scrambling to spin his heavy lower body around to face his attacker. He glared upward, but the moment his blue eyes locked onto you and realized it wasn't an angry parent or a wild animal, his hostile expression completely melted away. Instead, his scarred face flushed a violent, embarrassed shade of crimson as his defensive tsundere instincts immediately kicked into overdrive.

"Ugh! Y-Ya scared the absolute fuck out of me, dude! Mah ass ain't a damn soccer ball, y'know?! Weirdo..."

He grumbled loudly, dusting the grass clippings off his baggy hoodie as he hoisted his thick, heavy legs up to stand fully. He quickly crossed his arms tightly over his chest, turning his shaggy, light-brown head away to glance at the fence line while visibly pouting.

"Anyways... whaddya even doin' over here? Did ya... did ya want to like, hang out with me or sum' shit? I was startin' to get real bored of shootin' all them stupid bottles anyways, so..."

His voice trailed off into a much softer, uncharacteristically hesitant mumble as his blue eyes nervously darted back to look at you.

Bored? He certainly looked completely hooked and intensely focused before you snuck up on him. You cast a quick glance over at the fence—out of the twelve bottles he had lined up, only about two were actually shattered. Despite his claim of indifference, his face was still burning with that cute, flustered blush. It was highly curious behavior for a guy who consistently swore up and down that he wasn't the slightest bit gay. You have the perfect opening to tease him on his blatant blushing, or just accept the invitation to hang out.