Chapter Text
Max Mayfield had gotten pretty good at this routine over the past few months. Living at the Wheelers' house had been an adjustment. Nancy's old bedroom still had posters of bands Max didn't listen to and a floral comforter that wasn't really her style, but it beat the alternative. Her mom had spiraled after Billy died, and when her stepdad finally left, things had only gotten worse. The Wheelers had offered her a place to stay after everything in Hawkins went back to normal, and Max had accepted, grateful for the distance and the stability.
What made it even better was that the Sinclairs lived right next door. She and Lucas had been together for over a year now, and despite everything, the Upside Down, the trauma, the nightmares, they'd managed to hold on to each other. Most nights when she slept over at his place, supposedly in the guest room, she'd wait until the house went quiet, then tiptoe down the hall to Lucas' room. It was their secret routine, their little rebellion against the world that had been trying to pull them apart for so long.
Tonight was no different. It was a Friday in mid-October, and the Indiana air had that sharp autumn chill that made her pull her hoodie tighter as she'd walked over after dinner. The Sinclairs had welcomed her warmly, as they always did. Mrs. Sinclair had insisted she have seconds of pot roast, and Mr. Sinclair had asked about her classes. Erica had rolled her eyes at the obvious charade but hadn't said anything. She knew the score by now.
Max had retreated to the guest room around ten, changing into an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. She'd listened to her Walkman for a while as she waited. By eleven-thirty, the house had gone silent. She could hear the faint sound of Mr. Sinclair's snoring through the walls.
She took off her headphones and stood, padding barefoot to the door. Usually, she was meticulous about this part, opening the door slowly to avoid any creaks, stepping into the hallway, then pulling it closed behind her until she heard the soft click of the latch. But tonight, her mind was somewhere else. She'd gotten a b minus on her history test that day, and even though it wasn't terrible, it still bothered her. She was trying so hard to keep her grades up, to prove she could handle everything despite having been in a stupid “coma” for eighteen months.
She opened the door and slipped out into the dark hallway, her thoughts scattered. Three steps toward Lucas' room, and she realized with a jolt that she hadn't heard the click. She glanced back and saw the guest room door standing open about six inches, a slice of darkness against the dimly lit hall.
Shit.
But Lucas' door was right there, just a few feet away. She could go back and close it properly, or she could just... not. The chances of anyone roaming the halls at this hour were slim. Everyone was asleep. Max hesitated for only a second before deciding to risk it. This one time couldn't hurt.
She turned the handle to Lucas' door as slowly as she could, wincing at the faint metallic sound it made. The door swung open, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her with practiced care. The room was dark except for the faint glow of Lucas's digital alarm clock, reading 11:47 PM, and the silver moonlight filtering through the blinds.
Lucas was already awake, propped up on one elbow in bed, his silhouette visible against the window. "Took you long enough," he whispered, a smile in his voice.
Max couldn't help but grin as she crossed the room, suppressing a quiet giggle. "Sorry, I was waiting for your dad's snoring to reach peak volume. Didn't want to risk it."
"Smart," Lucas whispered back, scooting over to make room for her. "Anyone see you?"
"Please," Max said, climbing onto the bed and settling onto his lap, their faces inches apart. "I'm a ninja. A ghost. I could rob a bank and no one would know I was there."
Lucas snorted softly. "A bank robber who giggles?"
"I didn't giggle," Max protested, even though she totally had.
"You definitely giggled."
"Did not."
"Did too."
Max punched him lightly in the shoulder, and Lucas caught her hand, his fingers warm against hers. The playful energy between them shifted, becoming something softer, more intimate. In the darkness, she could just make out his face, the curve of his smile, the way his eyes caught the moonlight.
"Hi," he said quietly.
"Hi," she replied, her voice a whisper.
They stayed like that for a moment, hands intertwined, the rest of the world falling away. Then Lucas leaned in, and Max met him halfway, their lips finding each other in the dark. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were still learning the geography of each other even after all this time. But it deepened quickly, Max's free hand finding its way to the back of Lucas' neck, his arm wrapping around her waist to pull her closer.
They'd kissed plenty of times before, in the hallways at school, in the basement at Mike's house, in the school bathrooms…but there was something different about these late night moments. Maybe it was the darkness, or the quiet, or the fact that they were breaking the rules just by being here. Whatever it was, it made everything feel more real, more theirs.
Max shifted, pressing closer, and Lucas made a soft sound against her lips that sent a shiver down her spine. His hand moved from her waist to her back, fingers splaying against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. She could feel his heartbeat, quick and steady, matching the rhythm of her own.
"You're sure no one saw or heard you?" Lucas murmured between kisses, his breath warm against her skin.
"Positive," Max whispered back, though even as she said it, a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the guest room door she'd left open. She pushed the thought away. It was fine. Everything was fine.
Lucas kissed her again, deeper this time, and Max let herself get lost in it. His hand tangled in her hair, and she traced her fingers along his jaw, memorizing the feel of him.
They pulled apart eventually, both of them breathless, foreheads resting together. Max could feel Lucas smiling even in the dark.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said.
They settled into the bed, Max curling into Lucas' side, his arm around her shoulders. They talked in whispers about nothing and everything like the English essay they both had due on Monday, and whether "The Lost Boys" or "The Monster Squad" was the better horror movie. Max argued passionately for "The Lost Boys", while Lucas insisted that "The Monster Squad" had better one-liners.
"'Wolfman's got nards' is an iconic line," Lucas said, trying to keep his voice down.
"It's stupid," Max countered, grinning. "Kiefer Sutherland as a vampire is actually cool."
"You just think he's hot."
"So? You think Molly Ringwald is hot."
"That's different."
"How is that different?"
Lucas didn't have a good answer for that, and Max felt a surge of victory. They dissolved into quiet laughter, Lucas pressing his face into her hair to muffle the sound.
Eventually, the conversation drifted into comfortable silence. Max's eyelids grew heavy, and she found herself fighting to stay awake, not wanting the moment to end. Lucas's breathing had evened out beneath her, and she realized he might already be asleep.
She should go back to the guest room. That was the rule. Spend time together, but be back in her own bed before morning. But the bed was so warm, and Lucas' arm was so solid around her, and she was so, so tired.
Just five more minutes, she told herself.
She closed her eyes and let herself drift, the sound of Lucas' heartbeat a steady drum beneath her ear, the October night wrapping around them like a promise.