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first night.
Max wonders if she’s supposed to be nervous, and she wonders what it means that she’s not.
Most girls would be nervous about sharing a bed with a boy for the first time, right?
And Max feels a lot of things as Lucas carries her over the threshold of his bedroom, but nervous isn’t one of them.
That’s not a bad thing at all.
It’s been a long time since Max has lived somewhere where she didn't have to be nervous. Somewhere that she feels safe.
And as Lucas gently places her on his bed, in her new home for the next little while, and she sees a framed picture of the two of them from the night of the Snow Ball on his bedside table, Max has never felt safer.
After eighteen months in the hospital, she barely got a day of freedom before she was sent right back for another one.
Lucas visited her every day again, and while Max wanted to be better company this time around, it was hard.
(Everything was so fucking hard.)
Lucas tried his best to make it easier for her, even though he really didn’t have to try at all. He still didn’t seem to understand how much he helped her by just being there. By simply existing with her.
He listened dutifully to everything the doctors and physical therapists told her, taking notes for both of them and then coming in the next day with new questions about the extra research he’d done on his own.
All the nurses teased Max about him; about his devotion, about how handsome he was, about not letting him get away. About things she already knew.
It was almost overwhelming, the reminder of just how much Lucas cared about her, but for once, Max found it didn’t scare her.
It anchored her.
So when he asked if she wanted to stay with him and his family when she was released, Max was honest: Lucas was already home and she wasn’t sure she would survive being anywhere else.
Not that Max really had anywhere else to go.
The Wheelers were all still healing themselves, the Byers had already moved into Hopper’s cabin, Steve could barely take care of himself, her dad was in California and her mom, well...
Max had been afraid to ask if her mom was still alive when she hadn’t come around in those first few days of waking up, but Lucas had assured her she was.
Her relief at that news was slightly muted by the fact that her best friend was still dead, but not completely. Despite the strain the past few years had put on their relationship, Max was glad to hear it.
Apparently her mom came by the hospital on and off during her eighteen month coma. From what Lucas could tell, her visits seemed to align with brief attempts at sobriety, and they never lasted.
When it had been too long between visits, Lucas said he would go by the trailer to make sure she was still there, but being alive was the best she could give him. He said he offered to help her, but Max wasn’t surprised she turned him down and Lucas was used to it.
It took her two weeks to come see Max once it was all over, but one visit was enough for her mom to finally wake up, too; her stepson was dead and her husband was gone, but her daughter was still there and that was just going to have to be enough to keep her around too.
(They didn’t have the money for rehab, but Max’s dad did, and he said it was the least he could do, since he couldn’t do much else for her from across the country.)
Nobody knew how long her mom would be away for, but Max knew she’d still be gone by the time she was finally released from the hospital, so yeah.
Max is living with Lucas. And she’s sleeping in his bed.
At least for now, she is. To help with the transition. That had been the Sinclairs’ logic, but Max figures her lack of mobility factors into their leniency too; she might need help in the middle of the night and it’s not like they have to worry about anything sexy happening anytime soon.
“Star Wars or Ghostbusters?” Lucas asks, holding both options up for Max to see.
No, there’s nothing sexy about sleeping in one of Lucas’s shirts. Or watching him take off the one he’s wearing after she answers (Ghostbusters, obviously) and he starts getting ready for bed himself.
The act of actually getting Max into the shirt really isn’t sexy at all, though.
She has pretty decent movement in her arms now, thanks to a month of painful and frustrating physical therapy, but she still needs some help with most things, including changing.
A part of Max had been worried it would change their relationship somehow, that the caretaking would kill the mystery and romance - because talk about things that aren’t sexy - but so far, it hasn’t.
He looks at her the same way he always has, and it makes her feel the same way, too. Like lovesick idiots.
Lucas is a complete gentleman, helping Max out of the shirt that stinks of the hospital and into the one that smells faintly of him without making her feel awkward or useless.
It took a lot of practice and patience, for both of them, but they have a pretty good rhythm and understanding between them now, one that Max sometimes worries she won’t be able to replicate with her mom when the time comes.
But that’s a worry for another day.
Right now, as Lucas tucks her in and then slips under the covers on the other side, Max isn’t worried about a thing.
Except: “You don’t snore, do you?”
“No,” Lucas denies indignantly and with a laugh, adjusting the silk cap he’s wearing over his freshly trimmed hair as he settles against his pillow. “Do you?”
Max grins, lolling her head to the side. “Girls don’t snore.”
“Erica begs to differ,” Lucas scoffs, widening Max’s smile.
She loves the way Lucas and Erica rib each other, loves that no matter how low the blows, there’s always an underlying affection there, one that was always missing with Billy. They always give as good as they get, like a real brother and sister.
Max has always wondered if his relationship with Erica helped Lucas deal with her.
Her mother used to say she’d have to be nicer to boys if she ever expected to date one, and the idea of that used to make Max uneasy, seeing what being nice to Neil got her mom.
Then she met Lucas, and he hasn’t flinched once since she met him, never asked her change or be better, even when he probably should have.
But that doesn’t mean she’s not going to.
“What about any other bad sleeping habits then?” she questions. “You obviously don’t have to worry about me kicking you during the night.”
Lucas hums, blinking slowly as his body winds down from their long day. “Not that I know of. But it’s been a while since I’ve had a sleepover, so I can’t be sure. You’ll have to tell me in the morning.”
“Believe me, I will,” Max warns him, her smile not wavering, even as she remembers her own last sleepover, with El. “You’ll be getting a full report before I decide if I want to stay in here or move to the guest room tomorrow night.”
Lucas’s smile is lazy and cute, not worried at all, because of course he has no reason to be and he knows it.
So instead of responding to her idle threat, he asks, “And what’s your stance on cuddling?”
Max’s cheeks flush, and the pull she feels in her sternum gives her the answer.
“I don’t know,” she lies through a smile, trying and failing to play coy. “You?”
“None of the guys ever wanted to cuddle, so I don’t know either,” Lucas answers, spreading his arm across the bed in Max’s direction. “You wanna give it a try?”
“Very smooth,” she teases him at the same time she gives him a nod, letting him carefully pull her body closer and lay it on top of his.
When Max is settled, she has her arm across his stomach and her head laid on his bare chest, across from his scar - the one he reminds her of anytime she starts to get too in her head about her own.
She can hear his heartbeat, and she knows it will lull her to sleep.
“Okay?” Lucas checks after a quiet minute, his own arms circling her.
Max nods and hums, safe and warm. “Yeah,” she breathes and it’s an understatement.
“Wake me up if you need anything,” he makes her promise, but in this moment, Max can’t imagine needing anything else.
(second) first kiss.
Max should have kissed Lucas the second she woke up in his arms. She doesn’t remember now why she didn’t.
Probably because she couldn’t move any of her limbs, and Holly and the other kids were still missing, and Robin and Vickie and Mrs. Wheeler were there, and the world was threatening to end.
Despite the fact that she’d thought about it for eighteen straight months, she guesses it just didn’t seem like a priority at the time.
And then after El died, it didn’t seem right.
How could she be happy without her? How could she let herself have Lucas again when Mike couldn’t have El?
But it’s been a few months now, and while the wound still aches, it’s not fresh and exposed anymore.
Hopper is chief again, somehow still standing, and Mike cracked what could pass as a smile at a stupid joke Dustin made last week.
The world has continued to turn, even if it seems like it shouldn’t, even if it’s lost a little of its color.
Lucas still hasn’t kissed Max, though, and she doesn’t know why.
So one day, when they’re taking a break from one of Max’s never ending tutoring sessions to curl up on the living room couch and continue their quest to catch Max up on all the good movies she missed (today, it’s Dirty Dancing), she asks him.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
Max feels Lucas stiffen underneath her, and there’s a long beat before he just says, “What?”
“I’ve been awake for over three months, we literally cuddle every night, and you haven’t kissed me once,” she explains, as if Lucas doesn’t already know that.
Shaking his head, he carefully leans over the legs she has draped in his lap to grab the remote and pause the movie. When he leans back against the couch, his eyes are wide and wandering.
“I- I didn’t know if you wanted me to,” Lucas sputters out, clearly not prepared to have this conversation on this random afternoon. “I didn’t want to presume.”
Max snorts as she relaxes against the mountain of cushions keeping her propped up beside him. “That’s a first.”
The nostalgic joke seems to work to ease some of Lucas’s nerves, and even if his eyes still won’t meet hers, his palms find her legs, one on her thigh, the other on her calf. She can actually feel them now and they’re warm.
“You broke up with me,” he reminds her, like it’s not something Max has regretted for the past two years. “We were broken up before… before everything happened.”
He’s not wrong, obviously, but Max didn’t realize that mattered anymore, not in the grand scheme of everything that’s happened since. Everything they’ve survived, together and apart.
Max never stopped thinking of Lucas as her boyfriend and hadn’t considered that maybe he had.
“But then we made plans to go on a date,” she reminds him too, curling her hand into the crook of his elbow to give him a little shake. “And I literally told you that you mean more to me than Kate Bush. I thought about you every single day in Vecna’s mind. You were my way home. Of course I wanted you to kiss me.”
“But that was before we lost El,” he explains after a little bit of hesitation, afraid to press on the bruise. “Last time you lost someone, you pushed me away every time I tried to get too close. You weren’t doing that this time, but I wasn’t about to risk it by doing something stupid like trying to kiss you.”
Max isn’t exactly surprised by this rationalization, since El had factored into her own reasoning, but she somehow hadn’t considered Lucas would be connecting it to Billy at all, because despite the obvious ways the situations might seem similar, they’re so vastly different, too.
But she supposes she can’t expect Lucas to know that if she doesn’t talk to him about it.
“That’s really sweet,” she tells him, tugging him closer even though her eyes flicker away from his. “But losing El, it hasn’t been the same as it was with Billy. When Billy died, I was on my own, struggling with a lot of different shit. A lot of complicated, fucked up feelings.”
“Yeah,” Lucas whispers softly, carefully. “Yeah, I know.”
They’ve never talked about the confession he heard that night in the Creel house, the secrets she trusted him with, and that’s not going to change today. She’s made peace with most of it by now, anyway.
“You do,” Max nods, acknowledging that, even though it’s not entirely true.
He knows a lot of it - the worst of it - but not the whole of it. He knows she felt guilty about hesitating to save Billy, about wishing him dead, about wanting to follow him.
But Lucas doesn’t know why it was so hard for Max to be around him after her stepbrother died, and she doubts he ever will.
Billy was so terrible to Lucas, just hateful and cruel and racist, and it felt like such a betrayal for her to feel anything more complicated than relief that he was dead. Even if what she felt didn’t exactly resemble sadness, either.
To have Lucas telling her how sorry he was that Billy was gone, asking how she was doing, trying to comfort her and take care of her, it made Max sick to her stomach with a different kind of guilt that was just as hard to live with.
“But it’s different with El,” Lucas says with newfound understanding; a statement, not a question.
Max nods again, laying a hand over his heart as she finally meets his eyes again.
“El was my best friend and I loved her and I miss her,” Max says simply, like her chest doesn’t ache with the truth of all that some days. “Just like I know you do, and everyone else. I’m not alone in it this time.”
“You didn’t have to be alone in it last time, either,” he argues gently.
She did, Max still thinks, for all the reasons she’s already contemplated. But it doesn’t really matter now.
This isn’t about Billy, and it’s not even about El.
It’s about them, and finally moving forward, together.
“What matters is that I haven’t been alone this time, and I didn’t want to be alone.” Max kind of never wants to be alone ever again. “You’ve been there for me through all of this.”
“Well, what are friends for?” Lucas replies, and he’d almost sound earnest if the twitch at the corner of his mouth didn’t give him away.
Max narrows her eyes at him playfully, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Now you’re just being annoying on purpose.”
“Me?” he questions, but his straight face crumbles almost immediately under her stare. “Maybe,” he admits with a small smile. “But you know, you can kiss me too. You’re the one who dumped me, after all. I don’t see why I should have to be the one to…”
She doesn’t have to kiss him to shut him up, it just takes her hand on his face to do it.
Max touches his cheek and all of his protests, all of his teasing, just washes away, leaving him open and vulnerable and at her mercy, to do with what she pleases. Just as he’s been since the day they met.
It seems only fitting that it takes some effort for her to lean in close enough to reach his lips, but Lucas meets her half way before it can hurt her.
They kiss, soft and slow, then deep, and that last little piece of Max that’s felt missing since she came back from Camazotz - since Starcourt, really - slots into place.
And as her fingers cup Lucas’s jaw, pulling him in even closer, Max is suddenly glad they waited to do this until she was able to feel every inch of his body against hers.
first fight.
Max knew it was only a matter of time before they had a fight. They’re a couple and couples fight.
But she didn’t expect it to feel so terrible, and she didn’t expect it to be entirely her fault.
When they used to fight, it was about stupid shit that Max couldn’t imagine caring about now. Lucas would say or do something endearingly immature and Max would be upset enough about something Billy or Neil had done recently that she’d find it more immature than endearing, and let him know it.
This time wasn’t all that different.
Except that instead of her asshole step family, it was a set back in physical therapy... and an inability to understand the newest math unit she was trying to catch up on... and a phone call from her mom telling her she still can’t come home yet. And that little voice in the back of her head saying she was a burden for all of that.
It was all of them piling up one on top of the other in a perfect storm of bullshit.
And instead of Lucas being immature, he was being trusting and vulnerable and opening up to her in a way he never had before, and Max absolutely fucking blew it.
She had been in a mood for days before it happened, and an awful PT appointment that afternoon had only made it worse.
Steve had taken her to it because Lucas had to go help with a Mike related crisis at the Wheelers, and when they both reconvened at home later, they’d had very different days, and different ideas for how to spend the night.
Max had planned on being sullen and quiet, but Lucas, inspired by the events of his afternoon with Mike, decided he wanted to get something off his chest.
“Listening to Mike just let it all out made me realize how much I’ve been holding back from you,” Lucas told her, sitting cross legged in front of her on the bed they shared every night. “And how much that stuff is still hurting me. Maybe even hurting us.”
“Holding what back?” Max asked plainly, trying not to sigh. Up until that point, she’d been making an effort to curb her bad mood around Lucas, in equal parts because she didn’t want to make it his problem and because she didn’t want to talk about it.
“Just... my feelings, I guess, how much I could relate to what Mike has been dealing with and bottling up,” he explained nervously, struggling to hold her gaze. “I’ve never seen him like that before, not even after the first time El disappeared. And it just… I don’t know, triggered some of my own feelings that I kind of buried because there was more important stuff to worry about.”
That time Max did sigh, and she did it while closing her textbook, because she clearly wasn’t going to make much headway with that tonight.
“And you want to tell me those feelings now,” she deduced, neither encouraging or discouraging it.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I need to,” Lucas replied quietly, too caught up in his own emotions to pick up on Max’s tone like he usually would. He shuffled closer until his knees were touching hers. “You know, Mike only called me to talk today. Not Dustin, not even Will.”
“That must mean you’re his favorite,” Max quipped, deadpan, and Lucas must have heard her sarcasm as teasing, because he wasn’t deterred.
“He said it was because he knew I would understand what he was feeling. How much the guilt was eating him alive. And he was right.” Lucas swallowed thickly, his emotions laid bare on his face, even as he struggled to share them. “That night Vecna took you was the worst night of my life. I still have nightmares about it. And it’s not just because I lost you, but because it was all my fault.”
Max stiffened, suddenly checking into the conversation as the voice in her head started whispering again.
You’re a burden, you’re a reminder, you’re an obligation he’ll get tired of.
“What are you talking about? What was your fault?”
“All of it, everything that’s happened to you feels like my fault,” Lucas choked out, his watery eyes shining at what he clearly thought was some kind of confession. “I’m the one that brought you into all that shit even though I knew how dangerous it was. I knew it was dangerous, but I told you anyway, because I had a crush on you and I didn’t want you to stop talking to me.”
If Max had been in a better, more receptive place, she would have told him he was being stupid in the nicest, most loving way possible. Because he was. She’d remind him that she pushed to know and accepted the risk.
She’d tell him that she had relived the night she died from the outside in Vecna’s mind, had seen everything he did to try to get to her, to save her. She’d tell him that he couldn’t have done anything more than he did.
But she wasn’t in that place and the whispering was getting louder.
You’re not here because he loves you, you’re here because he thinks he owes you.
“Lucas…”
“And then after you lost Billy, I let you push me away. I could see you were drowning and I didn’t try hard enough to help you,” he continued right over her, tear tracks now marking his face. “If I had tried harder, maybe Vecna wouldn’t have targeted you. But he did, and I couldn’t save you. I said I’d look after you and play your song when you needed it and I couldn’t. Jason came and I, I couldn’t stop him, I wasn’t strong enough to get to you in time and you, you… I saw you break and I couldn’t do anything about it. You were begging me to save you and I wanted to, I would have done anything to save you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything, and you died in my arms, Max. And it was all my fault.”
Lucas got more emotional the more he rambled, until he was near incoherent by the time he was done.
But Max understood him just fine, what he was saying, and, even more clearly, what he wasn’t.
“Is that why you visited me every day?” she asked.
Lucas blinked at her through his tears. “What?”
“Is that why you sat at my bedside and played my song for as long as you did?” Max repeated, this time with even more edge. “Because you felt guilty?”
“No, no, of course not,” Lucas denied immediately.
But Max didn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe him. That little voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded like Billy and had been louder lately than it had been in a long time, wouldn’t let her.
“Is that what all of this is?” she demanded to know.
“All of what?” Lucas cried.
“All of it!” Max shouted, finally blowing up after weeks of containing it. Her stupid, broken, useless body trembled with all the anger and frustration she’d been feeling recently. “The visits, the song, moving me in here with you, taking me to therapy, everything. Is that all just because you think you owe me for ruining my life? Is that why you’re still with me?”
Lucas seemed to get it then, where her reaction was coming from, but instead of his usual understanding sympathy, he just looked betrayed.
“Max,” he breathed, shaking his head. “How can you even think that?”
“Well, what else am I supposed to think, Lucas?” Max sneered, too far gone to stop herself now. “Why else would you tell me all of that?”
Lucas looked like he’d been slapped. Of all the times Max had hurt him - and there had been a lot - he’d never looked at her like that.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, roughly wiping his cheeks dry and leveling her with a glare that would have made her flinch if his eyes weren’t so utterly heartbroken. “I guess I just thought maybe my girlfriend might care about something I’ve been struggling with and want to listen to me.” He shook his head again and stood up from the bed, moving away from it to put more space between them. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
Max watched Lucas walk out of his own bedroom, but it would take a couple more hours for her to get over herself enough to feel the full weight of how badly she’d hurt him.
That was two days ago, and despite their living situation, Lucas has managed to avoid her pretty spectacularly by sleeping in the guest room, getting up and leaving for school early, spending lunch in the library and then hanging out at Mike’s after school.
Max doesn’t need as much help as she used to, but she still needs some, so Mrs. Sinclair has taken over his morning duties for him (except for carrying her wheelchair down the handful of steps in the house, Mr. Sinclair has gotten the honor of doing that), and she thankfully hasn’t asked any questions. Max might have worried that was because she didn’t need to, but she’s been far too kind to Max to know anything. And she knows Lucas wouldn’t do that to her, anyway.
Erica, however, doesn’t have the same tact as her mother.
“So, what did my loser brother do this time?” she asks at the breakfast table, where Lucas is conveniently missing for the third morning in a row.
“Erica!” Mrs. Sinclair scolds her immediately.
“What?” Erica rolls her eyes and reaches for the syrup. “You know he did something.”
“He didn’t, actually,” Max admits softly, pushing her scrambled eggs around her plate. She doesn’t want to seem ungrateful by not eating them, especially now that she’s able to, but her appetite hasn’t been great since her fight with Lucas. “This time it was all me.”
Erica makes a noise of disbelief, but thankfully doesn’t push it.
“Well, I’m sure you two will work it out, sweetie,” Mrs. Sinclair assures her kindly, giving her arm a comforting rub as she passes behind Max’s chair to get to her own seat. “All couples have their fights.”
“Yeah,” Max mumbles halfheartedly, knowing she’s right, but not finding much comfort in that fact.
She sits in silence for the rest of breakfast, forcing herself to eat at least half of the food on her plate before she heads outside to wait for Steve to pick her up.
Erica finds her there ten minutes later when she comes out to start making her own trek to school.
“Look, whatever happened between you two, whatever you did, he’ll get over it,” she tells her, stopping her bike beside Max’s chair in the driveway long enough to say that. “That idiot is so pathetically in love with you, he’d forgive you for literally anything.”
It’s sweet of Erica to try, but the truth of her words only makes Max feel worse.
It’s obvious that Dustin, Mike and Will know something went down between them, but unlike the Sinclairs, they don’t mention it at all.
Still, after two days of feeling like she’s forced Lucas away from his own friends, Max tells Dustin to tell Lucas he can sit with them at lunch, that she’ll find somewhere else to be today.
She decides to eat lunch outside for a change, finding a nice spot in the sun near the bleachers, that she’s able to roll her chair to without needing any help.
But Max barely gets through the sandwich Mrs. Sinclair made her before she feels someone join her. She doesn’t really know who she expects it to be, but when she looks up to see who’s blocking her light, she finds Lucas.
“Oh,” she says, surprised, her breath hitching. “H-Hey.”
“Hey,” Lucas replies, looking and sounding just as nervous as she feels. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”
He nods towards the empty bench to her left, where she’d put her backpack, and she quickly grabs it to clear a seat for him.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Max agrees, dropping the bag on the grass on her other side.
She watches Lucas sit down gingerly, then averts her eyes when he looks her way. There’s a few students milling around on the other side of the football field, but Max still has trouble seeing that far.
The silence between them is tense and strained in a way it hasn’t been since she woke up, and she hates it. It’s suffocating and awful and all her fault.
“Lucas,” Max starts suddenly, just as he says, “Max.”
They look at each other and smile, and though it’s still awkward, it does a good job of dissolving some of the tension between them.
“You go first,” Max tells him softly, because she honestly doesn’t even know what she was going to say. She’s not used to being the one to apologize and what can she even say after how she behaved?
But it seems like Lucas is struggling just as much. “Sorry I don’t have a peace offering for you. It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this, so I’m a little rusty.”
“Do what?” Max asks tentatively, confused.
“Apologize and win you back,” he explains, giving her a small smile that’s somewhere between impish and sheepish.
It’s meant to charm her, but all it does is punch a hole in her gut.
“Lucas, you don’t…” Max shakes her head and looks at him, trying to swallow her self loathing. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”
“No, I- I should have asked if you were in the mood to talk,” Lucas argues, always trying to take on more than he needs to, more than he should. “I talked to Steve yesterday and he told me how bad your PT was that day and what Dr. Leslie said about your chances of skateboarding again. I didn’t even ask how it went before dumping all of that on you.”
“You didn’t dump anything on me, you shared something painful with me,” Max pushes back, and she has to fight to keep her voice level and calm, because she doesn’t want him to think her frustration is directed anywhere but inward. “Something was hurting you and instead of helping you and reassuring you like you always do with me, I made it about myself and my own shit and treated you like garbage. And I’m so sorry, Lucas.”
“I really don’t mind reassuring you. And I love helping you, taking care of you,” is all Lucas says to that, of course, and it endears Max as much as it upsets her.
“I know, and please don’t think I don’t appreciate you so much for that,” she assures him, and leaves it at that because she’s not the one that needs affirmation right now. The voice in her head has been saying other things these past few days. “Can you come here?” Max waits as Lucas moves closer and kneels in front of her chair, then she gently takes his face between her hands to keep his eyes on hers. “I promise you that there is nothing you could have done that night to stop what happened to me. None of the bad things that have happened to me are your fault. I don’t blame you for a single thing.”
“But-”
“No, Lucas, I need you to hear me about this,” she cuts him off sternly. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself for things like that, even if you know, rationally, that there isn’t anything you could have done to stop it. It doesn’t lead anywhere good. Do you think Billy’s death was my fault?” Lucas shakes his head in her hands, eyes wide and glassy. “Then please understand that none of this is your fault, either. I accepted the risk, I kept choosing to get involved. All those shitty things that have happened since I moved here, I could not have survived any of them without you. I mean that literally. You saved me more times than you know. You have done nothing but make my life better since the day I met you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Okay?”
When Lucas looks like he’s about to protest again, Max silences him with an arched eyebrow, and he just nods his head instead.
“Okay,” he echoes quietly, but Max knows it’s not that easy. She just hopes it’s a start.
And she hopes Lucas will come to her whenever he needs the reminder, because she’ll say it as many times as he needs to hear it.
She pulls gently on Lucas’s face, urging him closer, and when he leans up and in, Max angles his face so she can press a soft, long kiss to his forehead.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you that right away,” she whispers again, giving his crown a couple more quick kisses before she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him to her chest.
They stay like that for a couple minutes, until the awkward angle gets a bit too uncomfortable and Lucas has to pull away. But he doesn’t go far, just leans back on his heels.
When he looks up at her, his cheeks are wet and glistening, and Max reaches out to brush them dry with her thumbs before wrapping her hands around the ones sitting in her lap.
“Just so I know, for the official tally, this wasn’t a break up, right?”
He asks it with a smile, an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, but it isn’t that funny to Max, not when she knows Lucas came out here thinking he had to win her back for something that wasn't his fault at all.
She knows it’s a dynamic she established the first time around, that maybe seems worse in retrospect than it actually was, but it still makes her cringe because that’s not what she wants their relationship to be now.
“No,” Max tells him firmly, squeezing his hands. “It was a fight. A mistake. My mistake. They’re gonna happen. But whether those fights are your fault or not, I’m never going to break up with you again.”
“I don’t think you can promise you’ll never break up with me,” Lucas reasons, fighting a smile at the thought.
“Well, I just did,” Max counters, meaning it completely. “You got your eighteen month break, but now you’re stuck with me forever. Deal?”
Lucas doesn’t seem to have any complaints about that. "Deal."
first step.
The road to recovery has been long and hard and it’s not even half way over yet, but Max is getting there slowly.
She can stand on her own now. And she can walk with the assistance of parallel bars.
“Amazing job, Max,” Dr. Leslie says as Max reaches the end of the mat, clicking the stop watch in her hand. “A new record.”
“That’s my girl,” Lucas cheers from a few feet in front of her, both of his thumbs pointed up and a bright grin spread across his face.
“You’re making amazing progress,” her therapist admits; she’d had her doubts.
Just a month ago, Dr. Leslie had told her the odds of her ever being able to skateboard again were close to 15%, and after wallowing briefly about it, Max decided to use that as motivation.
What kind of odds did Joyce get told that she’d find her son alive when Will went missing? What were the odds her own mom got that Max would ever wake up from her coma?
She can’t imagine they were any higher, so fuck the odds.
Max is going to skateboard again. But first, she’s going to walk. Without these fucking bars.
“I can keep going,” she says through heavy breathing, clenching the ends of the bars beneath her hands.
“No,” Dr. Leslie says immediately. “You’ve already accomplished something big today. There’s no need to push yourself.”
“I can do it,” Max reiterates, determined. “Let me try.”
“Max,” her physical therapist sighs, knowing how hot headed she can be.
“Let her try,” Lucas speaks up, less intensely, but just as confident. He steps forward, looking between his girlfriend and her doctor. “I’ll be right here to catch her.”
Max’s stomach flips, at his words and his support and his dumb, stupid, unwavering belief in her.
“Fine,” Dr. Leslie finally relents, even though Max isn’t even listening to her. Lucas’s encouragement is all she needs, but it’s nice to know the woman won’t be mad at her. “But be careful. Not more than a couple of steps. I know you don’t want to ruin any of your progress.”
Max nods and grits her teeth, adjusting her grip on the bars before she carefully drops her weight from her arms to her legs.
She hisses in agony, but starts moving before she can overthink it.
Lucas is cheering her on, chanting something encouraging, but she can’t hear it through the ringing in her ears.
The pain is searing and all over, but not enough to stop her. She pretends she’s El, who never went up against something she didn’t at least try to defeat. She screams like her, and pushes through it.
Max takes one, two slow and small steps before she collapses into Lucas’s strong body, his arms swiftly sweeping her up before she can truly fall.
“You did it, Mad Max,” Lucas whispers as he spins her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and pressing a kiss against her sweaty skin. “I knew you could do it.”
Max laughs through her tears and holds onto Lucas a little tighter.
When they get home, Mr. Sinclair gives his son a knowing look before he heads inside, leaving Lucas and Max alone in the driveway.
Max has no idea what’s going on, but doesn’t question Lucas as he rolls her chair into the garage and parks it before disappearing further inside.
When he comes back, he’s holding something big and wooden in front of his face, and it isn’t until he places it on the floor of the garage that Max realizes what it is.
A skateboard ramp.
“Where did you get that?” she asks, voice awed and barely above a whisper.
Lucas grins proudly and puts his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest. “I made it.”
“You made it,” Max repeats in disbelief, not sure if she’s more surprised by the gesture or his apparent craftsmanship.
“The party helped,” he adds, a little reluctantly, as if it takes away from the sentiment at all. “But it was my idea.”
Max doesn’t know what to say, but she doubts she’d be able to get many words out through the lump in her throat, anyway.
“Why?” is all she can choke out.
Softening, Lucas steps forward, placing his hands on the arms of Max’s wheelchair and bending at the waist to get closer to her. “Because you’re gonna want it when you get back on your board.”
“You really think I can do it?” Max wonders, even though she already knows his answer.
“You can do anything, you proved that today,” Lucas is sure. They both lean in for a kiss, but Lucas isn’t finished yet. “And besides, if I keep your ramp here, you’ll have to come over to use it when you move back in with your mom.”
Max grins and rolls her eyes. “Good idea. Not like there’s any other reason for me to come here.”
“Hmm, exactly,” Lucas hums, kissing her again. “Gotta pull out all of my tricks to keep you around.”
“Once a stalker, always a stalker,” Max mumbles, grinning against his lips.
(second) first date.
Max is still finishing with her freshly cut hair when she hears the knock at the door.
“That’s Lucas, can you get it?” she calls out to her mom.
She doesn’t hear what her mom says in response, but she does hear Lucas greet her when she opens the door and it makes Max’s lips twitch up.
She quickly finishes up and takes one last appraising look in the mirror, her eye catching the adorable picture of Lucas stuck to the corner, before she decides she’s good to go. She grabs her cane and heads out of her bedroom, her grin pulling wider when she spots Lucas.
He’s not any more dressed up than she is, but the sight of him always makes Max smile.
“Wow, you look amazing. I love the new 'do,” Lucas tells her as she approaches him slowly, knowing better than to try to help her.
Max has been out of her wheelchair and using her cane for a few weeks now, and while there’s still a learning curve, they’ve both gotten good at knowing her limits. She’s tried pushing herself to move faster enough times to know to pace herself.
She's the Zoomer, she isn’t used to moving so slowly, and she hopes she won’t have to for much longer, but she’s just happy to be moving at all.
“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Max returns the sentiment, eyeing the items in his hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” Lucas scoffs. “It’s our first real, official date. What kind of chump do you think I am?”
Max fights a bigger smile as she settles in front of him. “Our first date was at the arcade,” she reminds him. “You bought me a slice of pizza and paid for ten games, then made me pay for the rest myself.”
“Hey, I was thirteen, that was like three weeks worth of allowance money,” Lucas argues indignantly, fighting a grin when Max laughs. “And that was, like, a kiddie date. This is our first date date. So yes, I did have to get you something.”
He hands her the flowers first, which Max takes with a flush in her cheeks.
“Such a gentleman,” she teases as she inspects them.
She doesn’t know much about flowers - doesn’t think she’s ever gotten them before - but they’re pretty and smell really good. Her mom offers to take them and put them in water, so she carefully hands them over before Lucas holds out his other gift.
It’s the picture she drew of the two of them at the movies, right before everything went to shit. The one he thought to take from the Creel house after it was broken in half, and then put up in her hospital room to keep his hope alive.
Only now it’s in a frame.
“It’s survived a lot, but better safe than sorry,” Lucas explained playfully. “I figured since you’re finally following through on your promise to go to the movies with me, I don’t need the I.O.U anymore, so... you can have it back now.”
Max feels silly for the swell of emotion the gesture and picture itself causes, but she doesn’t hide it from Lucas. She doesn’t do that anymore.
Instead, she smiles softly, tugs on his shirt, and pulls him into a kiss.
Lucas parks his dad’s car in a handicap space across from the Hawk and quickly jumps out, running around to the passenger side to open Max’s door for her and help her out.
Not because she needs it, but because this is their first date and he’s determined to do it right.
They’ve hung out plenty of times before, of course - before and after their official relationship change - but it’s always been casual, never planned. Not like tonight.
When Lucas first brought it up after they got back together, Max had said she wanted to wait until she was out of her wheelchair, and he agreed without complaint or question.
And it went without saying that their first date had to be at the movies.
“Ready?” Lucas asks, offering her his arm. Again, not because she needs it, but because he’s really committed to the bit.
Max would roll her eyes if his effort wasn’t making her swoon, just a little bit.
She places her hand in the groove of his elbow and they start their slow walk to the theater. There’s no romantic movies listed on the marquee, but she doesn’t care.
“I’ve been waiting for this for two years,” Max answers. “I’m more than ready.”
Lucas laughs softly, placing a kiss on her head and his hand over hers. “You and me both.”
They get two tickets to Killer Klowns from Outer Space. They spend most of the movie making out, but the parts of it they do see are so stupid and absurd that they spend the rest of the night recapping it to each other through fits of laughter.
So it’s pretty much the best date ever.
first love.
It occurs to Max on a random Saturday, sitting across Lucas at her kitchen table as he helps her with her summer school English homework: she’s never told him that she loves him.
At least not in those exact words.
She’s used other words to say it, though:
You’re such a dork.
I’m glad you’re here.
I just needed you.
I thought about you every single day.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
She isn’t entirely sure why she’s never said the actual words, because she does love Lucas.
Max has known she loves Lucas for years, since the first time he saved her from Vecna, if not before that.
(She can’t remember, now, if she ended up writing it in his letter or not, but she definitely considered it.)
Maybe she'll ask Ms. Kelley about it when regular school starts back up again, since the shrink Owens set them up with is only equipped to deal with her Vecna related trauma.
Because sure, the word wasn’t exactly thrown around in any version of her family, but she’s said it to her parents before, and had them say it to her; she doesn’t think she has some huge hang up about it like Mike did. And it's not like she has any worries about Lucas returning the sentiment.
And yet…
“What?” Lucas’s voice cuts through her sudden musings, pulling her back to reality and homework.
“Huh?”
“You were spacing,” he tells her, amused. Not frustrated, even though he’s skipping D&D to be here and help her analyze a Shakespeare play he read two semesters ago. “What’s up?”
Max shakes her head and looks down at the pages in front of her, cheeks warm. “Nothing.”
She’ll tell him later.
Later ends up being that night, as the two of them are pressed together in the tiny bathroom of her trailer, brushing their teeth before bed.
Lucas is spending the night for the first time, and even though they spent months sharing a bed, it still feels exciting. She still feels giddy about it.
Because Max is in love with him, and maybe that’s just what love feels like.
It means everything about him, no matter how small or routine, gives her butterflies.
“I love you,” Max says around the toothbrush in her mouth, because she suddenly can’t go another second without saying it. “You know that, right?”
Lucas’s eyes go comically wide, and Max isn’t sure if he’s more surprised at what she said or the fact that she chose this moment to say it - standing in her bathroom, him in his boxers and her in a shirt she stole from him ages ago. A moment that feels like a glimpse into their future.
Either way, it only takes a beat for his face to soften.
“I do know that,” he tells her sweetly, leaning down to give her a minty fresh kiss.
“Presumptuous,” she mumbles against his toothpaste covers lips.
When Lucas pulls back, it’s not far, just enough so that their foreheads are touching when he promises her, “I love you, too.”
Max’s eyes well against her will and she doesn’t know what to do with all the emotions swelling inside of her.
She wasn’t expecting it to feel like this, not after everything. It’s just three simple, stupid words, that say something they’ve already proven to each other so many times over.
But it feels different to say it, more real. Harder, she imagines, for people that are less sure than she is.
That must be why it took her so long to do it.
It doesn’t seem like Lucas minded the wait, though. But he never has.
They spit and rinse before they kiss again, properly this time. Max on her toes, her arms draped around his neck, their chests pressed together.
This feels different too, in the best way.
Their foreheads find each other again when their lips part, but only for a moment, before Lucas is throwing Max over his shoulder the next.
"Lucas!” she yelps through a surprised laugh, suddenly finding herself facing the floor, her ass in the air. Her hand instinctively flies back to make sure her borrowed shirt doesn’t follow her down, but Lucas’s is already there, keeping it firmly in place, the gentleman he is.
"So, just out of curiosity,” he wonders, carefully maneuvering them out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom. “What are all the things you love about me, Mad Max?”
Max can hear the smile in his voice, and then, after he’s tossed her onto her bed, she can see it on his face.
He’s just playing around, not seriously asking, but Max finds herself wanting to answer him anyway.
Or she would, if the list wouldn't take all night.
first game.
“I’m thinking about trying out for the basketball team again,” Lucas informs Max one Saturday near the beginning of senior year.
They’re hanging out at Lover’s Lake, up on the shore because it’s already too chilly to go in the water.
A lot of their summer was spent here, on those days Max didn’t have school - sometimes with the Party, sometimes just the two of them - and it’s hard to let go of as the season changes.
“Yeah?” she says, closing the book she’d been reading and placing it beside her.
Max tries to keep her response to this announcement as neutral as she can, knowing it’s a sensitive subject.
Not that she’s really surprised. She’d seen him eyeing the sign for try outs in the hall earlier in the week, and a basketball hoop had suddenly appeared in the Sinclairs driveway late in the summer.
“It's not a quest to be popular again or anything, I learned that lesson,” Lucas quickly tacks on, as if he has to explain or justify himself to her. “Just to play. I’ve missed it. Despite everything else, I actually had fun playing and practicing. Being part of a team.”
Max looks down at Lucas, where his head lays in her lap, and smiles at the way he’s smiling, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
“And you were good at it.”
“Not that good. I rode the bench all season, remember?” he retorts, all bashful and humble. “But I was getting good, and I’ve gotten better. And now that Andy and most of Jason’s other cronies have graduated, I thought maybe I could go back and it could just be about playing again.”
Max idly dances her fingertips along the underside of Lucas’s jawline as she eyes him curiously, trying to figure out what he’s not saying.
When it clicks, it seems so obvious.
“Have you told the guys yet?” she questions, even though she knows the answer.
Lucas shakes his head and frowns, his brows knitting together as he thinks about it. “Not yet.”
“You’re worried they won’t understand,” Max knows, her mouth slanting down in sympathy.
She wasn’t really checked into the group dynamic at the time and they haven’t talked about it since, but Max isn’t stupid or blind. It was obvious she wasn’t the only one Lucas had tension with back then.
Not to mention Mike is a whiny baby and never shuts his big mouth when he thinks he has something to bitch about.
“They didn’t before,” Lucas says, deflating a little at the reminder. “It was never about being popular, though, not really. It was more about, just… not being bullied anymore. They didn’t get the big deal, because they never really got that it was always different for me, you know? Worse.”
“Yeah,” Max nods sadly, because she doesn’t have to relate to understand. She might have been too wrapped up in her own shit to bother to try to get it back then, but she does now. She smooths out the worry wrinkle on Lucas’s forehead with her thumb and hopes the other guys will get it, too. “Do you think they might understand it a little better now?”
Lucas considers it for a moment, his face relaxing a little under her soothing touch. “Maybe,” he answers, hopes. “I know Will will get it, at least.”
Max had forgotten he wasn’t in Hawkins at the time, and silently agrees.
“I’ll make sure they come to your games even if I have to drag them there myself,” she promises, meaning it entirely. She knows they’re all at least a little bit scared of her still.
Lucas immediately perks up, but at her words, not her threat. He tilts his head back and squints up at her with a silly grin. “You’ll come?” he asks, like he can’t believe it.
Max wishes he wasn’t so surprised by that, but she guesses she can’t blame him.
So instead of getting defensive, she just smiles and playfully taps his nose. “Of course, dork.”
Lucas’s face scrunches adorably, but his eyes stay on hers. “But you don’t care about basketball.”
“I care about you. I love you,” Max replies, softly and with a shrug, finding it’s easier to admit things like that the more she does it. Sighing, she subtly nudges at Lucas and he slowly sits up, twisting around to face her and settling on his butt between her legs after she spreads them. Not close enough for his liking, he stretches his own legs out over hers, thigh over thigh, so she’s between his knees now, too. Once he’s situated, she tells him something she should have said years ago: “I’m sorry I never went to any of your games before. And I’m sorry for acting like it was ridiculous you were even asking me.”
“It’s okay,” he tries to tell her, giving her a pass, but she shakes her head.
“It wasn’t,” she denies. Then admits: “I listened to most of them on the radio, for what it’s worth. Including the championship game. So I heard your big win.”
Lucas tries to temper his grin, but fails miserably, like always. “Really?
Max nods and Lucas slips his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, the one he gave her to wear the first time she shivered.
“But I’ll be there front row for every one of them this time,” she vows.
“You’ll be bored,” he warns her.
“You’ll be running around in tiny shorts and flexing all night, I’ll be fine,” she teases him, shuffling even closer. “Besides, if you can listen to the same song on loop for eighteen months for me, I can handle a couple hours a week in a sweaty gym for you. Better that than getting roped into one of your lame ass D&D campaigns, anyway.”
Lucas throws his head back as he laughs, and it’s her favorite sound in the world.
“I’m gonna get you to play with us one day, Mayfield,” he declares before he leans in.
“Keep dreaming, buddy,” Max denies just as their foreheads meet, but they both know she’s lying.
That smile of his could get her to do anything.
Of course Lucas makes the team, and so Max keeps her promise.
First game of the season, Max is sitting front row, being swallowed in his green and white Letterman jacket, sandwiched between Lucas’s parents and Erica; Will, Mike, Dustin and Steve are sitting in the row behind them.
Max has some tough competition, but she’s pretty sure she cheers the loudest. But if there’s any debate on who Lucas’s biggest fan is, she painted an #8 on her cheek and made a big sign to hold up, just in case.
It’s not nearly as dramatic a game as his last one, but the Tigers win - mostly thanks to Lucas, if you ask her.
If her legs were stronger, she'd run over to him and jump into his arms, but they're not there yet. It's okay, though, because he makes a beeline for her the second his teammates release him from their victory celebrations, and he sweeps her up into one of his spinning hugs.
“Gross, you’re all sweaty and stinky,” Max complains through a laugh, but she doesn’t let go of him, even when he puts her back on her now steady feet.
(first campaign.
It’ll be many months until Lucas successfully convinces Max to join a campaign, and when she finally does, he gives her her very own binder with MAX written on the side and a character sheet about the homebrewed class he helped Mike come up with just for her.
The Zoomer, obviously.
Lucas even gets her a tiny miniature of her character.
Max has more fun playing than she’ll ever admit to anyone that didn’t witness it, even under torture.)
(second) first dance.
Max was never the type of girl that dreamt of her senior prom when she was younger, or really understood the big deal as she got older.
She wasn’t staunchly against the idea of it or other similar events, but it just wasn’t really something that was ever at the forefront of her mind.
Not until Lucas asked her to go, anyway.
He asked her with plenty of time in advance, and a pleading look in his eyes, so of course she said yes.
Max had an amazing time at the last school dance they went to together, so why not?
(The fact that she’s sure Lucas will look really hot in a tux is just a nice bonus.)
It isn’t until she realizes she has to get a dress that Max sees the slight issue with the whole thing, and even then, it’s mostly just because she misses her best friend.
Erica and Mrs. Sinclair are happy to go shopping with her, and she has a lot of fun, but the whole time Max is trying on dresses, she can’t help but think about how much more fun she would have had doing it with El.
Lucas picks her up at her trailer and Max gets dejavu from their second first date.
He comes with roses this time, and his eyes actually look like they get misty when he sees her; he tells her that she looks gorgeous and she tells him that he looks hot, and maybe Max kinda gets the fuss about prom in this one moment.
She lets her mom take a few pictures and then promises to see her tomorrow before they leave and head to the Wheelers to meet the rest of the Party for group photos.
Max is the only girl there, but she’s used to that; Will didn’t want to pretend by asking any of the girls at school and Mike wouldn’t dare take any girl that isn’t El.
Dustin says he decided to go stag in solidarity with Will and Mike, and they all pretend to believe him.
Hawkins High’s Class of ‘89 prom theme is cliche - A Night to Remember - and straight out of a John Hughes movie and Max enjoys every second of it.
(But she credits Lucas and her friends for that more than the prom committee or the DJ.)
“You having fun?” Lucas asks her, after pulling Max out onto the dance floor for one more slow dance.
She pretended to be put out, of course, but immediately melted into his arms.
“It’s alright,” Max shrugs, faux casually, but her beaming smile tells a different story.
Before Lucas can call her out on it, though, the song switches to Every Breath You Take by the Police, and if it’s possible, Max’s smile gets even wider.
Lucas tries to play dumb and he’s just really so terrible at it. “Now who would request this song? It’s so ‘84, right?”
“Hmm,” Max plays along, pressing her lips together to hold in her laughter. “Must have been some very romantic, very dorky guy trying to impress the coolest girl here.”
“And why would this very handsome, very suave gentleman think this song would do it?”
“Maybe it’s connected to the happiest night of her life,” Max muses and admits.
Their swaying stills for a moment in Lucas’s surprise, but they fall back into step without missing more than a beat.
“Really?” he asks, all traces of their playful banter gone.
Max can’t tell if he’s remembering the same conversation she’s thinking of, but she nods.
“Well, it was,” she corrects herself, trying to keep any melancholy from her tone. “The Snow Ball is where I hid when I…” Max doesn’t want to say it, say his name, because they never say it anymore, and one look at Lucas’s face tells her she doesn’t have to. Of course he knows. “So it’s kind of ruined a bit now.”
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Lucas rushes out quickly, looking stricken at the possibility that his romantic gesture had accidentally upset her. “I can get him to change it.”
“No, don’t,” Max says just as quickly, pulling her arms tighter around Lucas’s neck to keep him in place. “Don’t. I said kind of. It’s still one of my good memories. My mind still went to our first kiss before I even thought about him.”
When she feels Lucas relax against her, she knows he believes her. “Okay.”
“Besides, I think there’s been some new contenders for the title of my happiest memory since then,” Max tells him.
Lucas’s smile is small, but sincere. “Is tonight in the running?”
“Oh absolutely,” she grins, reaching up so Lucas can kiss her.
After they pull apart, Max leans into him and places her ear against his chest, content to enjoy the rest of the song - and night - like this.
“Has this song always been about a stalker?” Lucas wonders just before it ends, as if he’s only just listening to the lyrics for the first time.
Max looks up, resting her chin right where her head had just been and smiles lazily at him.
“Why do you think it’s our song?”
first time.
Max knows most people assume she and Lucas have already had sex. She even gets why they do. But they haven’t.
There’s been chances, of course. And they’ve gotten kind of close a couple of times recently, but ultimately, something always stopped them.
They didn’t want to rush it, Max wasn’t fully healed yet, someone interrupted them, they didn’t have protection, Erica would definitely snitch if she heard them, whatever; it was always something.
But mostly, they just didn’t want to do it until they were both ready, and they haven’t been, until now.
Or, well, Max hasn’t been.
Lucas has been ready for a while. He was completely honest with her about it, and was, of course, completely supportive of the fact that she wasn’t yet.
But now she is.
She’s so healed she can skateboard again, she got accepted to her first choice college, she and Lucas already have an apartment ready to rent in California with their settlement/hush money, and she’s graduating in a week. Plus, her mom has been seeing this (actually pretty decent) guy and staying over at his place a lot lately, so everything is lining up perfectly.
She’s just not sure how to tell him.
Maybe she should talk to someone else first, get some advice. She’s known a lot about sex from a pretty young age, thanks to Billy’s lack of decorum, but she could probably use a more nuanced and informative discussion on the subject, maybe even from a female’s perspective.
She knows Lucas has talked to Steve about it, and even though he’s somehow the Sex Ed teacher at school, Max would rather try to pet a demodog than talk to Steve about sex.
And while her mom would probably be cool about it, she doesn’t love the idea of basically announcing to her mom that she’s going to start having sex. Seems like something she should just leave for her to assume or ignore as she pleases.
It’s just lucky for Max that Nancy Wheeler happens to be in town for their graduation and she never needs an invite to the Wheeler house.
So while Lucas is downstairs with the boys, Max hangs out with Holly for a little before she excuses herself to stop by Nancy’s room, where the older girl welcomes her in to catch up.
The gist of which is: Nancy has chopped off most of her hair, dropped out of Emerson and is currently working at the Herald, which is fittingly badass. Max is actually interested in hearing everything she has been up to in Boston, but that’s not why she came in here.
So when the conversation loops back around to Max, she has a question for Nancy instead of an answer.
“What was your first time like?” she asks bluntly, because if there’s a subtle way to do it, Max hadn’t been able to figure it out.
Nancy balks at the sudden question, wide eyed and blinking, and then laughs in disbelief.
“Why?”
Max can’t fault her for her reaction, but she refuses to feel embarrassed about this, so she plays it cool, smirks, and says, “Why do you think?”
“Oh!” Nancy, the investigative reporter, finally realizes. “Oh, you and Lucas haven’t…?” She trails off, surprised, and Max shakes her head. “But you want to.”
“Well, yeah,” she says, smirking wider. “Have you seen him?”
Nancy grimaces, face scrunching up like Max imagines Erica’s would if she’d said that to her. “Gross, I’ve known him since he was six. He’s like my little brother.”
“Whatever,” Max chuckles, rolling her eyes, but she gets it. Girls were always trying to talk to her about how hot Billy was and it always made her gag. “It’s not like I need anything explained to me. I had to sit through Sex Ed like everyone else, I know the basics. But I just thought maybe you could give me some advice or something. Impart some big sister wisdom. It’s not like Mike is getting laid anytime soon for you to give it to him.”
Nancy, seemingly endeared by the Mike dig, relents with a sigh.
“Well, my best friend died while I was losing my virginity, so as long as that doesn’t happen to you, at least you know your first time will be better than mine.”
Max winces at the contrast between her words and tone, and wonders if she should have called Robin about this instead. She hadn’t realized it was a sensitive subject.
She’d heard what happened to Nancy’s old best friend Barb, of course, but apparently Mike didn’t know all the details, which makes sense, considering what they are.
It’s obvious Nancy is trying to appear unaffected by it, like she’s moved on and gotten over the guilt and the loss, but Max knows from experience it’s not something you really get over, just something you learn to live with.
But if Nancy wants to play it cool, Max will follow suit.
“Yeah, I can’t say I’m worried about that,” Max replies, playing along, because one of her best friends is already dead and the other one will be with her. “Just, give me something useful here. Anything.”
“I honestly don’t know what to tell you,” Nancy admits. “My first time was with Steve, and if I ignore the Barb of it all, it was… fine. He was nice enough, even if he fell asleep right after.”
Max snorts. “Seriously?”
“He was more of a jerk back then,” Nancy reminds her with a shrug, clearly not holding any lasting grudge about it. “But I think we both know that won’t be a problem with Lucas.”
“No,” Max agrees softly, ducking her head to hide her smile.
She doesn’t have many worries or doubts about this, but the few she has have nothing to do with her boyfriend.
No, Max has no doubts he’ll be perfect with and to her, and it makes her stomach flutter a little to know other people know that about him, too. That they can see how good Lucas is to her.
“You guys have been together since middle school,” Nancy knows. “And you love him, right?”
Max’s smile deepens, and this time, she doesn’t mind showing it off. “Of course I do.”
“And the whole town knows Lucas loves you,” Nancy teases, smiling kindly back at her. “That’s all that really matters if you’re sure you’re ready. Other than that, I guess I’d just say to be honest with him if something doesn’t feel good. And remember that you can stop at any time, no matter what. You guys have protection?” Max nods; Lucas has condoms in his bottom drawer, and she recently stole a couple to keep at her trailer, just in case. “Then I don’t think you need my advice at all. Just enjoy it.”
It’s nothing Max didn’t already know, but she still feels like she’s leaving Nancy’s room a little more confident.
Max doesn’t tell Lucas about the conversation, and she doesn’t tell him about her readiness, but she can’t imagine he doesn’t notice the change in her.
She feels like a teenage boy around him suddenly, and surely that would be hard to miss to an actual teenage boy.
But if he does notice, he doesn’t say anything, refuses to be presumptuous.
Maybe it’s better this way, though.
This way she can surprise him, make it spontaneous, when the moment’s right.
As long as it’s soon.
When Max gets wind of their invite to Stacey’s graduation party, she immediately overrides Mike’s lame ass call to skip it for D&D by promising she’ll finally join their campaign if they delay it for a night.
That’s more than enough to win Lucas, Will and Dustin’s favor, and they outvote Mike 4 to 1.
They arrive fashionably late, to a party already in full swing, and Lucas leads them straight to the kitchen.
“Hey, man, didn’t expect to see you here,” one of Lucas’s teammates, Jake, greets him, slapping his hand on his back.
“Stacey invited us,” Dustin informs him, and Max can’t tell if he’s trying to brag or worried Jake is going to think they’re crashing.
Either way, Jake doesn’t seem to think twice about it. “Cool,” he nods, smile friendly, then turns to look at the keg set up a few feet away. “You guys drinking anything?”
Max shakes her head, and Lucas follows, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “We’re good.”
As Dustin, Will and Mike accept Jake’s offer, Max steers her boyfriend away.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she tells him, loud enough to be heard over the music, but quietly enough that only he can hear. “I don’t mind if you drink.”
Just because Max’s mom is an alcoholic, doesn’t mean Lucas shouldn’t get to have fun.
“Who says I did that for you?” he teases, even though they both know he did. “You’re not the only one that doesn’t have the best experience with alcohol, you know.”
A laugh bubbles up in Max’s chest, remembering Lucas’s dramatic retelling of the post championship party he attended freshman year and the length of time he spent throwing up the next morning. Not even the knowledge of all the events that immediately followed is enough to stop it from being funny to her.
“How could I forget,” she grins, patting him patronizingly on the cheek before pressing a kiss there and then leading him out of the kitchen.
Stacey’s house is within walking distance of Maple Street, but twice as big as any of the ones on it, and perfect for a party of this scale.
It’s crowded but not suffocating, loud but not overwhelming. The music is pretty decent too. Whoever’s in charge of it is doing a good job balancing between genres, playing a mix of classics, current hits and even some deep cuts.
Max and Lucas dance for a bit, and then chat with different classmates about college plans when they go into the backyard for a breather, but they eventually find themselves tucked into the corner of the living room, making out on what is probably Stacey's dad's beloved recliner chair, if her dad is anything like Mr. Sinclair.
That’s where Dustin finds them a couple hours later, out of breath from dancing. Max only spares him a glance before her eyes flutter closed again.
“Ugh, you two have been insufferable lately. Get a room,” he complains, hypocritically, if the lipstick smudged on his face is any indication. He’s lucky Max has better things to do with her mouth than call him out on it. “I guess that means you haven’t seen Mike or Will lately, huh?”
When he doesn’t get an answer, he boos them and then stalks away in search of their missing friends.
Max waits until he’s gone before she finally comes up for air. “That’s not a bad idea,” she suggests, pushing her unruly hair out of her face.
Lucas looks adorably dazed, his lips kiss swollen and glossy. She swipes them clean with her thumb. “What’s not?”
“Getting a room,” Max answers quietly, shifting in his lap as she leans in to nip his earlobe, then moves down to kiss his neck.
She feels him tense underneath her, and she smiles against his skin.
“S-seriously?” he sputters, surprised. “Here?”
Max pulls back to look at him again, holding his gaze as she shakes her head slowly, meaningfully.
“Not here,” she says, her sly smile turning softer. “My place. My mom’s not home.”
Lucas blinks, processes what she’s really saying, and asks, “Are you sure?”
“God yes,” Max confirms without hesitation.
They were planning to sleepover in Mike’s basement tonight, so her mom said she was going to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house.
Her trailer is empty and she’s ready, and Max wasn’t expecting anything to happen tonight, but it’s been a good day and an even better evening and it just finally feels right.
Apparently, Lucas agrees.
“Let’s go.”
They stand up just so Max can hop onto Lucas's back, and they laugh giddily as they head towards the door, stopping just long enough to tell Jake to let their friends know they left and won’t be sleeping over after all.
Max wakes up in Lucas’s arms in the early morning with no memory of falling asleep.
She remembers the rest of her night, though.
The loud songs at the party and the clingy touches on the drive home; the look of pure adoration in Lucas’s eyes as he slowly undressed her and the comfortable weight of his body on top of hers.
Max smiles at the framed drawing sitting at her bedside as it all comes back to her in flashes, her naked skin still tingling from the way he kissed her, touched her, held her. Loved her.
It was perfect.
She turns around and opens her eyes to Lucas’s face, soft with sleep. She wants to crawl inside his chest and live there, even though it feels like she already has.
Max settles for pressing two long kisses there - one over his scar, the other over his heart - and then returns to him in her sweet, sweet dreams.
first apartment.
California is just as good as Max remembered it and it’s love at first sight for Lucas.
It’ll take some time for him to get used to it after living his whole life in Indiana, but she’s never seen him more excited. It’s adorable.
Their apartment is small, but they wanted to live together and it was the cheapest one they could find near the USC campus, and honestly, it’s nicer than Max’s trailer.
It’s another thing Lucas will have to acclimate to, but he’s not worried about it so neither is she.
“Anywhere you are is home,” he tells her sweetly as they stand in their empty living room. Her dad is bringing over some furniture tomorrow, but as is, all they have is piles of boxes and a mattress on their bedroom floor.
“You’re so corny,” Max teases, blindly reaching up to playfully push at his face, but the arms around her waist don’t loosen and the body pressed to her back doesn’t budge. “How have you only gotten more lame as you age?”
“Because somewhere along the way, I discovered your secret, Max Mayfield,” he tells her, nipping at her persistent hand until she stops nudging him.
Max rolls her eyes and turns around in his arms just so he can see her narrowed eyes and pinched brow. “And what secret would that be?”
“That you love it when I’m lame,” he grins proudly, squeezing her hips. He bites the air and makes a show of sucking in his cheeks to look like a model. “You think it’s sexy.”
“Oh, you wish,” she scoffs, smacking his chest, but she wouldn’t be able to hide the endeared delight from her face if she tried. Not that she ever bothers anymore.
Lucas breaks character as he laughs, pulling her closer. “Face it, babe, you’re into dorks. You love us.”
“I love one dork,” Max corrects him, her tone suggesting it’s supposed to make it less damning instead of more.
“Your dork,” he adds, nodding sagely.
”My dork,” she agrees, rolling her eyes. It’s a well practiced bit. “And it’s despite my best efforts.”
Lucas chuckles again. “Oh, believe me, I know that.” His smile settles into something softer as he looks down at her. “But look at you now. Living with one.”
“Again,” she says with faux exasperation, but her face can’t keep it up for long before she breaks out into a smile. “Lucky me.”
“No, lucky me,” Lucas insists with his own grin.
Max groans and rolls her eyes again, and this time, when she pushes against him, Lucas lets her go.
“Okay, just take me to bed already, Romeo,” she instructs him and Lucas doesn’t waste a second fulfilling her request.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Lucas scoops her up in his strong arms and carries her to bed like he has so many times before, but Max’s heart still skips a beat like it’s the very first time.