Max was pissed. To the core.
"What a fucked up day!" He growled as he continued to stomp up the stairs. There were plenty of them for him to stomp. Twenty floors worth to be exact. The elevator was out. Perfect. Just perfect. To top it all off, the day was replaying in his head which annoyed him even more.

Flashback

"Fucking coffee all over me. Again!" He glanced at his now brown shirt concealing the flesh that had reddened and become so sensitive with the scalding coffee.

Then there was the wild erratic driving as he was trying to get the damn thing off before it burnt a hole in his chest. He sighed in relief as he threw the steaming shirt on the passenger seat.

"What the fuck?" Max had looked in his rear view mirror and realized that the police lights were for him. A motorcycle cop had lit him up.

So he pulled over, dug out his registration,  insurance and driver's license. He also pulled out his precinct ID. Usually, cops let each other off with a warning.

Not this officious little prick.

"Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?" The officer had asked as he scanned Max's assorted paperwork.

"I think I crossed the yellow line while trying to get my shirt off. I spilled my coffee and it was really hot." A simple explanation. Shouldn't be a problem. Max sat there shirtless with bright pink splash marks starting on his pecs and dribbling down to his abs. He even lifted the coffee stained shirt out of the passenger seat to show as evidence.

"I see. Please remain in your car." Max's mouth fell open. The man, Officer Powell, took his IDs and walked back to his motorcycle to comfortably sit while he called in an ID check and wrote a ticket.  Max was livid.

'Powell? Who the fuck is named Powell in fucking Bangkok?'  Max mentally assaulted the asshole making references ranging from Powell's unclean habits to the shame his ancestors probably felt about him to where he could stick both the ticket and his motorcycle. It made him feel a little better until he realized there was a good chance it was at least a 4800 baht (150 USD) ticket. FUCK! Yes, he could afford it but that was a lot of money because one little jumped up, ladder climbing, quota reaching, ASSHOLE was trying to make a name for himself.

Max was currently imagining how Officer Powell would look with a black eye. His chest still stung and he hadn't even had a single swallow out of that damn coffee before he was wearing it.

He hated Mondays.

"Here you go, sir. Instructions are on the back of the ticket. Please drive a little more carefully in the future, sir. Have a nice day." Powell handed Max the ticket and his IDs then marched back to his motorcycle. 'Bet he goose steps on the weekend.' Max thought as he waited for the bastard to pull out into traffic and leave.

Walking into his own precinct shirtless was an experience. Cat calls, wolf whistles and blatant ogling had taken place as Max made his way through the sea of desks.

He dumped his bag at his desk and continued to the locker room. There was a sweatshirt in his locker and he could rinse out the coffee stained shirt. Hang it up to dry even. As he reached, the locker door, he paused. Slowly, he turned and flexed. Max had a lot to flex. He was pretty sure Lemon, the mail lady, had fainted. It was dead silent for a moment. "Jealous bitches." Max announced and entered the locker room. He could hear the roar of  laughter behind him. Okay, maybe the day was salvageable.  He grinned.

Nope, he was wrong.

There had been a domestic violence call that he had taken simply because there wasn't anyone else to go. Plus they told him there were kids involved. The man had drunk enough to give him a bit of bravado without losing his ability to move. It had devolved into a fist fight with Max taking him down hard. The pathetic excuse of a man had gotten one good shot in and bruised Max's cheek bone. 'Great. Now I have to wear make up for a week. Shit.'

In a corner of the room, a woman and two children were huddled. All three were bruised. Max leaned over the creep's shoulder as he cuffed him. "No one deserves that. Did you when they beat you up as a kid?" The man's eyes widened. "You touch them again and you won't like what happens." Max handcuffed the man and then handcuffed him to a sturdy pipe. He called for a squad car to pick up the offender while he took the woman and her children to the hospital.

Three hours of paperwork and the inevitable disaster of the ER resulted in Max delivering the little trio to a friend of his in social services.

"Hey, Kat!" He smiled. "Thanks for looking after them for me."

"Any time, Max." She returned the smile. "Anything special I should know?" she asked in a low voice.

"No. Same shit as always." His phone alerted him to a message. A quick glance. He rubbed his face. "I gotta go. See ya soon! Maybe we can do lunch one day next week."

"Sounds good. Text me and we'll set it up!" Kat turned her attention to the family. Max headed for his car.

He pulled out into traffic after getting himself a hamburger at a drive thru. Usually, he tried to eat reasonably healthy. Today,  he didn't fucking care.

He had a mouth full of burger and was washing it down with a calorie laden soda. 'Sometimes, ya just need to indulge.' he sighed to himself. It was right about then his car lurched forward with a metal crunch and a squeal for good measure. Once again, he was wearing his drink and he damn near choked to death on the burger he was trying to swallow. The rest of the burger was decorating his dash.

'Fucking really?' He seriously thought about screaming.

He launched himself out of the car to see the trunk crumpled in.

'Control, Max. Control. These people are NOT ready to see you lose your shit.' A few deep breaths. 'Okay, now. Do not come unglued on the person who just FUCKING DESTROYED MY TRUNK!'

Max turned toward the car. It was an old Cadillac. Baby powder blue with gold trim. The damaged radiator was leaking steam obscuring his view of the person. Max, gritting his teeth as the ice cold soda-soaked sweatshirt clung to his chest, walked to the side of the car.

Inside was a grandma. No doubt about it. She even had blue hair that wasn't far off the color of the car. She blinked myopically at him. There was purpling bump on her forehead and tears in her eyes.

"I am so sorry, young man. I looked down and and... did I hurt you?" At that point, Max gave in. He gave up. Today was going to just suck hard core and outrageously. Then it would rub his nose in it.

"No, ma'am. I'm fine but you have a good size lump. Wait just a moment please." He called for an ambulance and a squad car. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"My son, please. He's not going to be happy. I'm not really supposed to drive..." her voice trailed off as she looked at Max guiltily.

'Really? I'm shocked!' passed through his thoughts as his mental eyeballs rolled far enough to examine his brain in detail.

"Perhaps driving isn't something you should partake in, ma'am."

He dialed the number she gave and waited.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon,  sir. I am Detective Max Nattapol of Precinct 37 Bangkok police. First of all, let me tell your mother seems to be okay but has been in a car accident." Max was politely efficient.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY MOTHER!" was the bellowed reply. Max jerked the phone away from his ear and glared at it as if the man on the other end could recieve the full effects of said glare..

"She rear-ended my police car, sir."

"SHE WHAT?!?" Max winced this time. Why did this fucker have to yell everything?

"Sir, I am texting you the address. Please arrive as soon as possible. Thank you." Max hung up before the man could yell again. A quick text and he turned to the lady. "I believe he's on his way, ma'am."

Now he needed ibuprofen...

Within fifteen minutes, the woman's yelling son arrived. He was a pudgy man in his late 50s wearing a green polyester suit that was a size too small. His tortured vest buttons looked like they might become projectiles at any moment.

He looked up at Max with a jaundiced eye. Max wondered if his last name was Powell too.

"Why did you back up into my mother?" He demanded imperiously. For the second time that day, Max's mouth dropped open.

A strangled "What?" managed to escape his mouth.

'Stay calm, Max. Stay calm. Breathe. Breathing is good.  Do not kill this puffed up little...'

"ANSWER ME!" Max's eye twitched. 

"Sir, as a police officer, may I advise you NOT to take that tone with me." He leaned in subtly emphasizing the height difference between the 5'5" man and his own 6 feet. The little toad of a man huffed and puffed right up to the point Max took the sweatshirt off.

The sweatshirt was cold, wet and sticky. Max could handle cold. He could handle wet. Sticky was right out.

The bellicose man had gaped at the sight of all Max's muscles and then shut his mouth so quickly his teeth popped.

Max looked up as he heard the sound. He hadn't considered the opportunity his loathing of sticky might offer. Internally, he smiled a little. Maybe the day would improve?

Not exactly.

The ambulance had arrived and taken the grandma and her obnoxious son away. Max had wanted to kiss the ambulance crew. Now he was waiting for the tow truck to haul his car back to the station.

So he waited.

And waited.

Played solitaire on his phone.

And waited.

Some shop owners had taken pity on him and brought him a water bottle, wet wipes and a t-shirt. The t-shirt had been handed to him by a five year boy named Kana. Hero worship had gleamed in his eye when he was told Max was a police officer. The t-shirt had a dinosaur on the front and was waaay too small but Max couldn't bring himself to disappoint the boy so he squeezed himself into it. Kana had beamed and wanted his picture taken with Max. Max had obliged with a smile while hoping his lips weren't blue. Gods, how did people wear clothes this tight?

It took the tow truck over an hour to arrive.  It was mid-afternoon. Max was hot, tired, frustratrated and slightly asphyxiated from the tight t-shirt.

To add to the joys of the day, the tow truck driver smelled like he bathed once a decade whether he needed it or not. Max was hanging his head out the window like a dog preferring the various street smells of Bangkok to the condensed body odor in the cab of the tow truck. They couldn't arrive at the station fast enough for him.

Upon arrival, Max became the spectacle du jour (a/n: du jour is 'of the day' in French) for the second time. This time it was mostly laughing. Max sincerely didn't care and had really appreciated Kana's thoughtfulness. Besides, dinosaurs were cool and five year olds couldn't be expected to always get the sizing right. He held his head high. As he reached the locker room door,  there was a pause. They all wanted to know what Max would say this time.

"You do not understand high fashion." He flipped his imaginary hair and bitch stomped into the locker room. There was another roar of laughter.

Max grinned. The grin lasted about thirty seconds. He was trying to get the t-shirt off and realized he was stuck. His arms were straight up, his head covered by the t-shirts body. It was caught on his shoulders? Upper arms? Both?

'Fuck my life.' he sighed to himself. "Hello? Could use some help over here!"

It took two officers to help him out of the t-shirt especially with Max insisting they not rip it. Okay, help might be an exaggeration. When they weren't laughing their asses off or taking pictures, they were giggling and weakly tugging at the shirt.

'I am going to kill you both and make it look like an accident!" Max had yelled but the two officers just laughed harder.

"You gotta get out of that shirt first, buddy!" Sky laughed.

Sun, who rarely smiled much less laughed, was wiping tears and reduced to just giggling. He glanced at his partner and they both exploded into laughter again.

"I hate you guys. I really do." Max growled.

Despite the help of the two laughing buffoons, Max made it out of the shirt. It was wildly stretched out of proportion but he didn't care. It was a gift. He'd have to get the little guy a precinct shirt. Kana would like that.

Max took a quick shower to clear any sticky he may have missed. He shuddered. 'Fucking hate being sticky.' he thought.

He slipped his jeans on and his now dry coffee stained shirt. He'd take a few hours of paid time off and go home before the next disaster hit.

His phone buzzed. A text from his supervisor. Max headed to his office. A polite knock at the door.

"You called, Chief Saint?"

Those four words started a shit storm in the chief's office.

"I can't believe the sloppy work you did on the Thitiwat case. Where's your damn paper work, Max? It's a high profile case and I have NOTHING to give the Inspector.  What the hell are you thinking...." The Chief's voice faded into a drone for Max.

'What Thitiwat case?'

"Chief?" Saint carried on his tirade.

"This department is a model, a model, for other precincts and I'll not allow anyone to drag down...." At this point, Max wasn't sure Saint was even breathing.

"CHIEF SAINT!"

"WHAT!"

"That's not my case, sir."

For a moment, Saint and Max just blinked at each other.

"Oh." They blinked some more.

Saint looked a little embarrassed but not much. "All well, sorry about that." He shuffled some papers on his desk top. "Dismissed, Nattapol."

"Thank you, sir." Usually, Chief Saint was a great person to work with. Fair, kind, thorough  - just a good man.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one to get the Shitty Day bug."
Max thought. He went back to his desk to make sure all his paperwork was done. It took hours but he finished it.

It was dark as he emerged from the station.

'Fuck it. I am so done with this SHIT.'  Max growled to himself and headed to one of his favorite places.

Meanwhile at home,  Tul was reading and hoping dinner would still be edible when Max arrived. Giggling minions sounded from his phone.

'Message from Max!' Tul smiled.

Tul and Max had a system. When Max left the station or Tul left the hospital after his shift, they texted each other. Simple.

Max's message wasn't so simple this time.

' I am so fucking done. I'm doing it.'

"Oh shit." Tul scrambled to shove his sneakers on and find his keys. "Where would he go... where would he go... wait." Tul nodded decisively.  "Yep! Definitely. " and ran out of their apartment.

Max had reached the roof of the old apartment building. It was a quieter section of Bangkok. Fewer people to see. He took off his ruined shirt and then laid the neatly folded dinosaur t-shirt on top of it. He smiled at the touch of the breeze and the thought of the t-shirt for Kana on his desk neatly labeled and ready to go. Walking firmly, he headed for the ledge.

Tul, breathing as if he'd just run a marathon, exploded through the door. "Don't you do it, Max! Do you hear me? Get away from the edge, Max."

Tul started ripping his own shirt off. Both of them stood looking at each other. Wearing jeans and sneakers left both their muscled torsos available in the breeze. Tul could smell a whiff of Max's cologne. "Come on, Max. Don't. Just don't. "

Max looked at him and leapt.

"FUCK!" Tul ran for the edge and dove over.

Max was thrilled. Finally! "Kazos" he whispered and felt his wings unfurl. Black iridescent feathers lifted him and then he began to swoop going higher and higher. He could hear the beating of Tul's wings behind him and glanced back.

Cream colored wings faintly shimmered in the starlight. No wonder those few who had seen Tul as he really was thought he was an angel. Coupled with Tul's handsome face, it was a totally reasonable mistake.

Max grinned. Somehow he was never mistaken for an angel. Black hair, black wings, green cat's eyes and of course he smiled too much. Humans were always freaked by fangs for some reason.

He hovered waiting for Tul who was already yelling. It made Max smile.

"Max! What happens if someone sees us again?!? We'll have to move and if there are pictures? Are you crazy?"

Max's remorse showed in his face. "Sorry, Tul. It was a bad day. One of those frustrating ones that just goes on and on..." He sighed. "I just needed to be me. With you."
Max looked into Tul's amber eyes. Did he understand?

Tul smiled while carefully removing the bruise make up from Max's face. It was hard sometimes hiding how fast they healed. "How about we buy a country place. Mountains, beach - whatever makes us happy - as long as it is isolated. We'll go there whenever we need to and be us. Who we really are. Think that will help?"

Max nodded. "Last flight over Bangkok, my love?"

A grin. "That sounds lovely,  Max."

~♡~♡~♡~

1. I don't know anything about how the Thai police in Bangkok are organized or operate. I just did what worked for the story. 

2. This story showed up in my brain at 8:30 am. I am NOT a morning person. Then it wouldn't let me go back to sleep. RUDE. 😁

3. Would anyone be interested in a story about what Max and Tul are? Just wondering!

I hope you enjoy this one shot.

Huge HUGS and Keep Safe!

❤🍫🫖❤