The Little Things

by TheProducersHat

Summary:

Leo has never liked being alone. Even less so during an especially stormy day in NYC. Will Max manage to tame his worries?

Chapter 1

A/N: Since the Producers fandom is in a need of a revival, here's a little contribution! Hope you enjoy, feedback appreciated! :)

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Leo Bloom didn't consider himself to be a negative person.

Not usually, to be precise. He always felt strangely proud of being able to find beauty in the little things, even those considered unappealing in one way or another by the society.
For some reason, he always liked to watch the business of New York City, the endless crowds of people rushing to get to work, colorful cars passing them by, honking and flashing lights, a couple walking hand in hand, a woman carrying her child having a tantrum, a man spilling his coffee and cursing, all of it meddling into an exciting chaos of life.

Some would call it annoying and disturbing, but to Leo, it was magical in a way. Even though it was rather anxiety inducing, sure, so many people, faces and personalities in one place - so much life. But at the same time, it made one feel like a part of the society, however stressful it may be.
And God knew that Leo's life was full of stress since day one.

Either way, all of this was bittersweetly beautiful, Leo mused, but however he tried, he just couldn't find any beauty in what was currently going on behind the office's misty window.

What began as some strong winds and a smattering of rain has built into a fullblown carnage.

For to Leo, the wind wasn't howling, it was screaming like a banshee, uprooting weeds and shrubs in a fit of ever-consuming rage.

The rain wasn't falling, it hammered the ground, an impenetrable salvo of bullets, it was driven, hard, merciless, torrential.

The trees weren't swaying, they were writhing and flailing as their fine limbs were ripped away, their groans of pain carried away by the wind.

The sky turned dark as livid black clouds spat lightnings, momentarily illuminating the room with blinding white flare. It was closely followed by a deafening rumble of thunder, making Leo feel like life has just come to a stop.

Reaching into his pocket, sweating hands desparately seeking the comfort of his blue blanket, he tried to turn his attention back to the books in front of him. However, he caught himself staring right through them just moments later, unable to focus on anything but the distressing sounds and images raging behind the fragile glass, mere centimetres separating him from the doom awaiting on the other side.

Where was Max when he needed him?

Taking off his reading glasses in one swift motion, he rubbed his eyes exasperatedly and forced himself to look outside once again. A bad idea, really.

His heart hammered against his chest just like the rain pelting angrily on the roofs as he watched the road turn into a river, until he couldn't see it anymore, raindrops covering the windows.
Another lightning tore the sky apart, striking a nearby building. All the lights flickered. His breath was becoming faster. Suddenly, the electricity went out.
The house was cold and everything outside was drowning.

Leo sprung from his place behind the wooden desk, feeling panic rise in the pit of his stomach as he covered his ears in an attempt to drown out the inevitable bang.
The force of it rattled the windows and for a moment, he feared the glass would break.

Plopping down on the sofa behind him, he twirled the blanket between his fingers ferociously, thoughts whirling. Max should have been home exactly 38 minutes ago. That being said, it wasn't unusual for the older man to come and go as he pleased, late or early, but given the circumstances, Leo couldn't help but worry.
What if Max got caught in that horrible storm in the middle of the Central Park, where trees and branches are surely breaking and flying? What if he got stuck in an elevator that stopped working due to the blackout? What if a cab failed to see him crossing the street in the heavy rain? What if he wasn't coming back? Or what if...

Was it possible that he stayed at the theatre longer to avoid the tempest?
Yes, yes, that was fairly possible. Why would he go outside in such weather anyway? Leo will call him. He will call Max and ask him if everything is alright. Max will laugh and disperse his worries, and he'll do the books calmly. That's how it was gonna be and nothing else.

Wincing as another lightning struck the city below, he rounded the table, reaching for the phone with fumbling hands and dialed the number he knew off by heart.
Twirling the cord around his forefinger anxiously, he waited for a response from the other side.
Seconds quickly turned into a minute or two, and still there was nothing. Leo shivered as his stomach twisted in irrational fear. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Something must have happened in that Armageddon outside.

Throwing the handset back on the table carelessly, he paced the office nervously. This was silly. Max wouldn't have left the theatre just like that, he didn't like to be caught in the rain. He couldn't think of anyone who did like it, to be honest. Maybe he was just busy when he called, or didn't hear it because of the commotion. Either way, trying again couldn't hurt, could it?

Brushing his damp hair back in frustration, Leo took the phone again. He felt paranoid and absurd doing this, but he needed it. He needed to hear Max's voice, needed to hear he was alright and on his way. He needed him here, because no matter how he tried to deny or hide it, he was terrified. He was terrified of the storm and always had been, however senseless it was.
He couldn't do anything about it, not alone, and so he called again. After not being met with success, he tried again and again, knowing fully well that it was useless; he was acting out of panic. Max obviously wasn't there and Leo was starting to hyperventilate at this point.
There really wasn't any beauty in storms like this, he was certain now.

Just as he was about to dial the same number for maybe the 10th time that day, a clanking sound startled him. Leo whirled around, eyes lighting up upon recognizing the familiar rattling of keys. He immediately dropped the phone, lunging for the door before it could even be unlocked and fell straight into the arms of a very startled Max.

"Whoa! Oh my God, Leo!" Max exclaimed, pulling away with wide eyes, "Gee, what's gotten into you?"

Leo stepped away instantly, seemingly embarassed at the gesture, but he couldn't help himself. The sudden wave of relief took the better of him, but was soon replaced with alarm when his eyes finally raised to Max's face.

Upon noticing a red bruise on the upper part of his forehead, a thin trickle of blood aligning with his left eyebrow, Leo immediately panicked.

"Max! What happened to you? Oh God, are you alright? It's bleeding, you should-"

"Leo- oh come on, Leo, get off of me, stop fussing," Max took his fumbling hands away from his face, unfazed, "It's nothing, if something here is concerning, it's your attitude."

With that, he took off his soaked coat and hat, throwing it on the couch carelessly and headed into the bathroom to get a towel.

"If you must know, though," he quipped over his shoulder, "I got hit with a newspaper stand - yeah, don't look at me like that - on my way home from the Astor, you wouldn't believe it, flew at me just like that. It's real nice outside, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." Leo stood dumbfounded, trying to gather everything that Max just told him, "You were... You were in the Astor bar?"

"Why yes, is that so surprising?" Max stuck his head out of the bathroom, casual as ever. "I mean, I met an old... acquaintance, so we had a drink or two, you know, for old times' sake."

"Oh," Leo looked down sheepishly, "Well, um, alright..."

"What? Is that all?" Max called again from the other room before stepping out with a towel around his shoulders, "What is that gloomy tone I hear? You're not jealous, are you?" He pushed him teasingly, but Leo stood his ground.

"Jealous? Why, I'm- no!" he frowned diffidently, "I was just... Max, look, I was worried sick, I kept calling you but you weren't there so I-"

"Worried sick?" Now Max took on a sligthly more serious tone, but made sure not to sound too impressed, "Why? I come late all the time, don't I?"

"Well, yes, but there is a storm, I was afraid you had gone out there and... I don't know, got hurt somehow, besides, thinking about it, I was right! Something much worse could have happened you know, let me look at it..."

"Oh goodness, Leo, calm down, you're acting like my mother," he took him around the shoulders comradely and led him towards his desk, "I'm here all in one piece and you, young sir, are being fairly insufferable with all that cooing around. Now, sit down here before you faint on me or something, you ashen-faced dummy."

Leo allowed him to be pushed into the chair without much protest, for he was still rather thunderstruck, speaking not-so-metaphorically.
Once seated, blinking and shaking his head, he started, "But Max-"

"But nothing. You know what, do the books, I see you didn't get too far, did you?" He peeked over his shoulder, ruffling his hair playfully as he set up his working place.

"Look, here's your paper, your Dixon Ticonderoga number two pencil - God, did I really memorize this? - your books and there you go, that's a good accountant, hm?" Patting his cheek affectionatelly one last time, Max disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Leo alone with his thoughts. Somehow Max's actions reminded him of his unpleasant days at Whitehall & Marks, with the exception that Marks was never friendly or affectionate, only mockingly so. How was he supposed to work now?

Max was back and that reassured him deeply, yes, but somehow he couldn't shake the anxious feeling. It wasn't as if his presence somehow lessened the catastrophy happening outside, nor did Max seem very intent on spending his time calming and reassuring his overreacting persona. Not that he blamed him, though. Max had just returned from work, presumably tired and annoyed at the incident with the newspaper stand and here he was, burdening him with his worries and ditching the tasks he was supposed to have finished by now.

He'll just act normal. Max didn't need to know that he was unable to handle a little unfavorable weather, it had to pass sooner or later and until then, he'll just pretend. Pretend to be doing the books, while he'll be, in fact, doodling some nonesense. Anything to distract until everything around and inside him had calmed.
It wasn't that he couldn't do them, some numbers were never a problem for him, he just wanted to avoid the possibility of making mistakes, which could cost him a great amount of money and a telling-off from Max. Both being highly undesired scenarios. Furthermore, his hands were shaking way too much at this point, the figures would be unreadable.

"Hm, so I see your eyesight has miraculously improved?" Leo's head whipped around in surprise at the sudden comment, turning his gaze to Max who was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and a sly smirk on his face. Leo, on the other hand, was oblivious as to what Max was implying there.

"Excuse me..?"

"Your glasses," he pointed at the table shortly, "Don't you need them, Mr. Mathematician?"

"Oh. Oh!" Suddenly it occured to him, "I, um, haven't started yet. Anyway, I should get to it, shouldn't I?" He offered a weak smile, praying that Max will just dismiss it and let him stress in peace. No such luck.

"Well well well," Max chuckled knowingly, walking over to him and stopped behind his back. Leo has never confessed it, but he was still highly uncomfortable with people looming over him like that, even if it was Max whom he trusted with his life. Again, it reminded him too much of his past experiences. He tensed up.

"What's going on?" Although Max's voice was soft and imploring, Leo couldn't help but flinch visibly when he felt two hands rest atop his shoulders. The sound of hailstones which began to drum upon the windows angrily didn't help it either.

"What do you mean?" He asked innocently, altrough his shaky voice betrayed him.

He heard Max sigh, most probably not buying his attempts.
"Come on, don't think I haven't noticed. You're as startled as a deer in the headlights ever since I set my foot inside, unfocused and whiter than your shirt." He stroked over the thin fabric faintly, "And what was that attack hug in the doorway anyway?"

He needed a plausible reason, and quickly.
"Oh? It's nothing, I was just, I mean, I am glad you're here, you know, unharmed and all, that is, not too seriously, oh well..." he trailed off, fully aware that the way he tripped over his words gave away too much already.

No wiggling out of it now.

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A/N: More to come!

Chapter 2

"God, Leo, you couldn't possibly sound more suspicious, could you?" Max laughed fondly, though his voice was laced with concern.

"I'm sorry," Leo replied quietly, sounding maybe more miserable than he really felt, "I'm a little overworked, that's all." A lie to a certain amount, it wasn't only that, but it should suffice. To his surprise, it did.

He felt Max move in closer to him without another word, jumping slightly when he felt his hands push down on his shoulders unexpectedly, unsure of what was he trying to do. Since he didn't protest verbally though, Max proceeded, applying gentle pressure evenly in circular motions, focusing mainly on the area between his shoulder blades; that was where Leo held most tension.

Realizing what this was about, Leo felt his face getting hot, clenching his fists subconsciously. This felt inappropriate somehow - so foreign, for he was still getting used to such close contact. That being said, to such close contact that wasn't threatening or intended to harm him, but he couldn't convince himself to just accept and enjoy it. Not yet.

"Max," he gulped uneasily, "What are you-"

"Hush. Relax, Leo. Let go of all those worries for once."

Leo knew Max was just trying to make him comfortable, but he didn't understand. Perhaps under different circumstances, he'd be able to loosen up a little and go along with it, but right now and there, being frightened and still sligthly embarassed, it just made him nervous. He made it known when Max used a little too much pressure on a particulary painful muscle, wincing and letting out a whimper against his will.

"Damn it, Leo," Max clicked his tongue, but softened quickly, "I told you to relax. It's gonna hurt if you don't..."

Not that it helped much. Leo felt his heartbeat quickening alarmingly at the comment and cursed under his breath. Unusual for him, but he hated it. He hated how he was forced to live his whole life in fear of touch and everything unknown. Now it was getting in the way of the strongest friendship he's ever built. He knew he could just say the word and Max would stop, but he felt a strange desire to overcome it despite the building up panic. Whether it was out of spite or a genuine wish to conquer his demons he couldn't tell, nor did he seriously care. This was Max, after all. He would never intentionally hurt him; one of the few unchanging cerainities in his life.

Letting out a somewhat strangled breath, he closed his eyes, willing his body to gradually relax under the pressure. It wasn't immediately, but after a while, the choking feelings of fear and uncertainity got slowly replaced by something akin to peace. Letting his head fall backwards, he tried to savour the fuzzy warmth filling his soul, sighing contendedly. It was all gone in a heartbeat.

A lightning came, a brilliant shock of white in the grey sky, forking silently to the unsuspecting ground - the thunderous boom calling its warning too late.

As if harshly awoken from a dream, Leo sprung from the chair, unconsciously backing into Max who, judging by the sharp intake of breath, wasn't prepared for the inevitable bang either. Leo squeezed his eyes shut as the monstrous sound resonated around the room, reaching for Max's hand without really realizing it. He seemed to understand the gesture though, for he clutched it firmly, pushing him further away from the balcony in a protective way. Once it faded away, Leo seemed to realize what he'd done in his panic and pulled away hastily, averting the older producer's gaze again.

"Leo, come here," a gentle voice spoke behind him. Leo stood petrified.

Max approached him carefully, this time mindful not to touch him from behind; he figured it was a problem after numerous occassions - several of them being just today - where Leo flinched frightfully at such unexpected contact, no matter how gentle. Somehow, Max felt it was connected to his past, of which he only knew bits and pieces, but he was able to put two and two together. Unknown inner rage filled him just thinking about what must have been done to him in his earlier life to make him so reserved; so wary when it came to blindly trusting another person. He made a mental note to ask him about that later; they'd work it out, together.

"Leo?" He searched his face, careful not to intimidate him but trying to sound convincing at the same time, "Don't you want to tell me what's wrong? What are you afraid of?"

"Could we just... I don't know, sit down and talk? Please?" He finally looked up at him with those big, heartbreaking eyes. Max had no choice but to comply.

"Of course. Come along, you sad-eye," he teased him lightly, more than pleased to see the boy's lips twitch into a little smile. Once more, he felt the strange parental need to take care of him, to shield him from the harsh, cruel world and protect the unwavering innocence and kindness within; he deserved nothing less.

Putting one hand at the small of his back, relieved when he didn't protest in any way, Max led him towards the bedroom; the one with the direct view on the city below. Plopping down on the bed, he patted the place next to him invitingly. Leo looked down at him bewildered, not moving a muscle.

"Oh for God's sake..," Max rolled his eyes half-heartedly, reaching out for Leo's arm and pulling him down with him.

Leo gave a startled yelp as he practically fell onto the other man, who just laughed and helped him sit up, straightening his now disheveled collar as he went. The former accountant just smiled awkwardly, looking slightly mortified. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them.

"Well? Feelin' cozy now?" Max commented sarcastically at seeing Leo's position. He was sitting perfectly straight, hands folded neatly in his lap; the very embodiement of tension.

Leo turned to look at him incredulously, obviously too preoccupied with nervousness to pick up on Max's usual sarcasm.

"Cozy? How can one be cozy in this?" he gestured to the window haphazardly, "We're hunkered here in an office that is not the cozy place of shelter as it would ordinarily be in adverse weather - and you're asking me to relax."

"Alright, alright, I'm joking!" Max help his hands up in fake surrender.

"You ought to be," Leo sneered, but Max could tell that he had found humour in their little exchange.

Sombering again, his shoulders fell slightly as he moved to lean against the bed's headboard, turning his focus back to the window. Max took that as a permission to continue.

"So... You're not exactly fond of storms, right?" Max brought up casually, hoping to evoke a reaction.
The attempt was sucessful, for Leo slowly turned to pierce him with a slight death glare, which Max considered a good sign; at least he was responsive.

"Right," Leo offered simply, although a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Really? What a surprise," Max raised an eyebrow, hoping to end the small talk with that. Leo seemed to have other plans, though.

"You know, I don't get what people see in thunderstorms," he started thoughtfully, "They're loud, they're wet, they're destrucrive, they're dangerous, they're-"

"Leo," Max put his hand over Leo's own suddenly.

"Yeah?" He asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Shut up."

Leo frowned irritably and before Max could react, a pillow came flying in his direction. He missed, - and Max wasn't sure it was intentionally - but it was enough to excite the competitive nature in him.
He acted stunned, but his hand secretly wandered up the bed, grabbed the pillow and without a warning, flung it at Leo's chest full-force.

Underestimating just how light and unsuspecting he was, the hit knocked him off the bed as he tumbled to the floor in a backward somersault, taking the pillow with him. Max immediately broke into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath, unsuccessfully. After what felt like minutes, he finally regained his composure enough to crawl to the edge of the bed and look down at the pitiful heap of a man on the floor. Bursting into laughter anew upon finding him still sprawled on the floor, face down and unmoving, he extended his arm towards him.

"Oh my, oh God, you should have seen that," he managed between chuckles, "Come on now, up with you."

He stopped laughing aloud when Leo didn't acknowledge him, but still wore a large grin on his face; he couldn't help himself, the fall was awfully comical.

"Ooh Leo, don't be offended, my deepest apologies" he nudged him with his foot gently, "You gotta pay for your vicious attack, ya know?"

Rolling his eyes heavenward upon the continued lack of response, he slipped off the bed to crouch next to his unfortunate victim, still giggling silently.

"Silent treatment, hm?" He took away the pillow covering Leo's head with a fond smile, ready to apologize genuinely; he didn't mean to topple him over like that. The smile fell from his face the next moment.

His younger partner's eyes were closed, not the slighest hint of amusement - or consciousness, for that matter - in his features. Max's insides gave a jolt.

"God, Leo..." he whispered and rolled him over slightly, cold anxiety gripping his heart, "I didn't mean to... Oh damn it, I shouldn't have-"

He stopped short when Leo moved his head sligthly, groaning as his eyelids fluttered, a seemingly pained frown on his face.

"Leo! God, I'm so sorry, are you alright?" He touched his cheek shakily, desparate to help somehow, "I shouldn't have done that, I know, but you- What are you laughing at..?"

Taken aback at first when Leo flipped onto his side, struggling to sit up between the mischievous cackles, it occured to him at once.

"You... You! Oh you goddamned, sneaky, two-faced, unbelievable, infantile little bastard!" He beat the pillow against Leo's head with every insult he could currently think of, trying to supress a smile of his own, for Leo's malicious grin was infectious.

"Backfire, Max, backfire!" He exclaimed, looking incredibly amused and proud of himself. Although annoyed, Max couldn't help but grin despite his wounded pride, too relieved to be angry anyway.

"Oh, shut up at once," he covered Leo's face with his palm and pushed him back to the floor playfully. Getting himself back on the bed, he continued to laugh lightly against his better judgement. Seeing how Leo's eyes lit up with amusement though, he felt all the previous irritation melt away completely, cherishing the rather rare sight. It was the little things like that meant the most to him. How he loved to make the kid laugh.

"Admit it, I got you!" Leo stated triumphantly as he rejoined him on the bed.

"Yes, yes," Max passed a hand across his face, "Your acting skills are truly outstanding." He watched from the corner of his eyes as Leo settled himself against the headboard again, his cheerful smile disappearing gradually. Max sighed. Here we go again.

"Anyway," he began warily, "As I understand it, all the fuss is because of the storm? That's why you are... well, the way that you are?"

"Hm? Well, yes... I mean, what else do you think it should be?" He inquired somewhat suspiciously, as if afraid of the answer.

"Me?" Max responded innocently, although he was determined to find out, "Who cares what I think?"

"What do you mean? I do."

"Do you? Well, that's uplifting, but what matters is that there actually isn't anything else bothering you," he smiled at him sweetly, then added wittily with a raised eyebrow, "Is there?"

"No..."

"Good!" Max slapped his thighs cheerily and moved to get up; just a part of his plan, "I ought to be going then, right?"

"Going?" Leo immediately lunged after him, slight panic evident in his voice, "Going where? Why?"

"Oh, you know, I don't want to distract you from your work, you need peace for that, don't you?"

"What? No!" he exclaimed a little too loudly, then realizing his mistake, drew back and added shyly, "Not at all, you're... You're not distracting me."

"Am I not? Where are the finished books, then?" Max continued pushing, but his concerns lay elsewhere than the books he didn't even understand anyway.

"The books? When was I supposed to..." he trailed off, frowning, when realization seemed to hit him, "Max! What is this interrogation about?"

"Sorry," he smiled apologetically, getting serious again as he rested his hand on Leo's knee, "I just want to be sure you're truly alright."

"No, I am sorry. I know. And I'm fine," he raised his eyes to him, rerurning the smile, "Truly."

"What is it, then? You can tell me."

Putting a hand around Leo's shoulders, there it was again. The undeniable flinch, although it seemed to be instinctive, didn't go unnoticed by Max.

"Alright, I'm in too deep already, am I not?" Leo glanced over at him shortly, contiuning hesitantly, "I was frightened, as you know, of the storm, so when you were away this long... You know, not even in the theatre, I started panicking, - and I know it was irrational - but you know how I get..." He stopped to look at Max for a silent permission to continue. The older man just nodded, a sense of guilt flooding him for taking it so lightly; he should have called him.

"And when you finally came, you had that bruise, so naturally, I panicked some more. I tried to focus on the work, but I just couldn't, moreover, when you started to..." he trailed off again, as if afraid to say it. Max leaned in closer.

"Either way, I was too overwhelmed at that point, I guess... Sorry if I worried you," he smiled weakly, seemingly done with explainations.

Max didn't want to push his boundaries, but there was still that last thing nagging him. Leo didn't need to answer, and he could at least try. Nothing to lose.

"I understand, but... Leo, why can't I touch you?"

Obviously thrown off by the question, Leo's eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"Oh, oh, not like that!" Max defended himself quickly, realising how it sounded, "I mean, I can, but like, not always, or... not everywhere, you get me?"

Judging by Leo's puzzled expression, it sounded even more inappropriate than before.

"God, never you mind, let's forget everything I just said, shall we?" He laughed nervously, scratching his head, "Just answer this one question and I'll leave you be, alright?"

"Alright..?"

"Have you been abused, in the past?"

The question hung in the air for several long, uncomfortable moments, the gale outside making it sound more omnious than it needed to be. Max held his breath.

Not daring to look as he heard the bed creak next to him, the more surprised he was to feel weight rest upon his left shoulder, followed by a soft exhale. He turned his head slowly, gaze falling on his young friend, who was leaning his own forehead to him, knees pulled up close to his chin, eyes closed. And just in that sight alone, Max knew he'd hit home without Leo having to respond verbally. A crushing wave of sympathy and anger flooded him.

"God, I'm so sorry, little buddy..." he whispered helplessly, encircling him in a gentle embrace. At loss of words, he simply held him close, eventually leaning down to kiss Leo's forehead tenderly; a somehow instictive attempt at lessening his inner pain.

An almost inaudiable "thank you" amongst the rambling storm interruped his thoughts, but it was enough to make his heart swell with bittersweet joy. He felt like crying. Whether out of gratitude or sadness he couldn't tell, but he was sure of one thing; he won't let anyone hurt his protégé ever again, in any sense whatsoever.

When he regained his composure enough to move again, he reached over, grabbed one of the sheets and draped it over the both of them protectively. Leo seemed to appreciate the gesture, for he snuggled in even closer, humming a tone from some musical Max couldn't name, but it meant the world to him. He lived for such little moments of feeling needed and wanted.

And while he once dismissed it as "sentimental, idealistic nonesense", he now found that Leo was absolutely right.

It's the little things in life that matter.

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A/N:  More stories to come!