#that's a separate story because like obviously max has daddy issues

[fast-burn]

day 12: daddy/mommy for winter warmers, maxiel, explicit, 2.2k

At Jimmy'z, probably half one in the morning, the girl Daniel had been dancing with for about a dozen 90s-retro remixes excused herself to the bathroom by pressing her full fake breasts up against his chest and shouting into his ear. Daniel watched her disappear through the crowd, her tiny baby-blue slip of a dress with the fluffy white hem hiking up the back of her thighs so high he could've sworn he saw the curve of the bottom of her ass. He popped up on his toes, hoping to catch the top of her bobbing strawberry-blonde head. What he saw was Max.

Max at the fringes, but surrounded by the usual entourage. He was red-faced and smiling, eyes nearly squinted shut, being jostled back and forth with an empty G&T in his hand. Definitely drunk. Definitely having a great time, all the boundaries of personal space dissipated with every refill of his glass.

Daniel wriggled his way out of the throbbing crush of dancers and filled a cup at the water station. He brought it over to Max.

The circle parted, opened for Daniel because Max always left a space there for him, no matter how many times Daniel walked away and put distance between them.

"Hiya," Daniel yelled over the music. He took the drink from Max, slippery with condensation, and slurped from the edge of the glass. It was mostly ice and backwash, and a faint burn where the gin was basically only vapour. He gave Max the water. "Oughta stay hydrated, kid."

Daniel couldn't drink like a fish anymore. He'd only had three cocktails and a shot, and already was a quarter past tipsy. He dreaded the hangover that would linger over him the next day, rather than the burst of nausea easily handled by a prostrate trip to the porcelain god. He was sensitive to it, that's all: the consequences of a night out. So, the water.

Max grinned at him, a different smile than his totally-fucked-smashed-drunk one, and different than the one he reserved for Daniel alone. "Thank you, daddy," he said, barely loud enough to hear, a little sarcastic, a lot simpering.

Daniel laughed. Max laughed. Daniel walked away, and the words hit him on a five-second delay, thunder after lightning.

His body kept moving, but the rest of him stood there, watching, waiting for what would happen next.

The girl came back and tucked her lace underwear into the tight front pocked of Daniel's jeans, and then twisted her fingers into his belt loops to pull him in. She'd reapplied her shiny lip gloss, and now she smeared it across his mouth, cotton candy chasing away the citrus and pine. Daniel mostly stopped thinking about Max for the rest of the night.

-----

Part of Daniel was still standing there with Max, even three days later.

Maybe he just didn't hear Max right. Maybe he said Danny, not--

Or maybe he didn't but it was still just a big joke. Max had learned to make friends on the track by having a dirty sense of humour, and Daniel only made it worse, one-upping him until they were both practically rolling on the ground. One time Max had giggled something like I'll just piss on your race suit, and then you'll have to drive naked and Daniel had sniped back that Max should make sure to get his boots, and then there was something about a golden-shower-shoey, so like. Daddy kink stuff wasn't really out of the question.

Unless it wasn't a joke at all. Unless Max was serious. And every spare moment, Daniel was thinking about it. He should have stayed there, making sure Max drank the whole glass of water, wiping up any mess that spilled from the corners of his mouth. He could have convinced Max to get some fresh air, to go home early, to get a good night's rest. He could have tucked Max in himself.

And Max would have said thank you, daddy.

Daniel shivered and nudged his dick with the side of his thumb, willing it to calm the fuck down. Max got a little sloppy and affectionate when he was drunk. It had nothing to do with Daniel.

He would probably say that to anyone. Max always liked mature women who were a little mean, and sucked up advice from any older man to sort through later at his leisure, always tucking one foot cutely behind the other and blinking up at them, even when he was taller. Daniel could easily picture Max in bed--

Max in bed with someone, calling them mommy or daddy, whimpering about it, pale eyelashes clumped together with tears, blushing red all the way down. Biting his lips until they were hot and bee-stung. Flat on his back, or with his ass in the air. Either. Both. It didn't seem impossible, that he'd beg for more, wrung out and desperate on Daniel's dick.

Or that, maybe, possibly, the other way around, desperate to prove he was a big man now who could give just as good as he could take, grinding inside all frantic-like, going please please please until Daniel told him he could come and he'd fill Daniel to the brim moaning thank you, daddy with every pulse.

And it was very much not the thing to be thinking when Daniel was about to head to the airport to hitch a ride with Max to the race. Totally uncool to contemplate, really, when it was entirely probable that Max didn't call him daddy at all. So Daniel went into the kitchen and opened his fridge and stood there until he could focus on something else like when his coffee cream was going to expire.

-----

There was a knock on his motorhome door on Saturday night. Daniel was supposed to be doing yoga before bed, had rolled out his mat, but was actually scrolling his Instagram algorithm: swimsuit model, dirt bikes, athleisure model, Italian food, different swimsuit model.

He opened the door, and it was Max on the other side, as if all of Daniel's perseverating had made him appear like a magic trick.

"Are you busy?" Max asked, and Daniel said nah and let him come up.

Max kicked off his shoes made himself very comfortable on Daniel's couch, arms pillowed behind his head and nasty greyish athletic socks propped up on the arm. "Oh, sure," Daniel said, mouth working on auto-pilot, "anywhere you like."

"Let's not waste time on the pleasantries, Daniel. We've known each other long enough."

"And where am I supposed to sit?"

Max shrugged, like it's your place, figure it out, so Daniel just went cross-legged on the yoga mat. He was in boxers and a ratty old pullover because he wasn't expecting company; Max was in jeans and a plain t-shirt because it was his uniform. The combination put Daniel at ease as much as it made him sort of salivate. It was the same outfit Max wore absolutely everywhere, and that included Jimmy'z.

"So what's up?" Daniel asked after a while, because Max hadn't visited him in the middle of the night since Renault, and even then it was only once.

Max peered at him, down the ski slope of his nose. "You liked when I called you that," he said. Accused. That. He didn't elaborate, but Daniel knew. "You have been not-looking at me all weekend."

Daniel blushed, his face going hot all the way up to his hair. "You notice when I don't look at you?" He said, instead of denying it or saying he'd been busy. He was an idiot.

"Why do you like it?" Max pressed.

He didn't know why. It wasn't something he was normally into very much. Girls had said it to him in the heat of the moment, and it didn't turn his crank in any particular way. It was something about Max and Max alone. Daniel just wanted Max to want him. That write-off moment at the club was as close as he'd gotten in years.

Instead of waiting for Daniel to answer, Max sat up and scooted to the edge of his seat. His legs slid forward until they bracketed Daniel, knees spread, crotch very fucking obviously on display. Daniel leaned forward, almost against his own will. "Yeah?" Max murmured, and unbuttoned his pants.

Daniel did the rest of the work, dizzy with it, the musky smell of Max's dick at the end of the day and the bitter-brine-salt that painted his lips when he bent to suck it. Max stroked the very tips of his fingers through Daniel's hair at the temples, and Daniel bubbled and fizzed all over. It had been a while since Daniel gave anyone a blowjob. He certainly hadn't been sober at the time, but at least he didn't have the braces to contend with anymore. He just went slow and easy. He kissed and licked at the crown of Max's cock, slipped his tongue into the little pocket of foreskin where the taste was strongest, and used his hand to jack off the rest.

"Yes, yes, oh, yes," Max kept saying on repeat, breathy but not very imaginative. It was the fucking best. His thighs were twitching and Daniel took a moment to rub his face over the soft skin there, pinking it all up. He went back to sucking, taking more into his mouth, feeling brave, feeling powerful. "You want me to say it?"

He did and he didn't. Daniel's mouth made a weird slurping noise, unintentional, so he pushed down further, moaned around Max's dick. It was good. It wasn't what he imagined, but it was what he wanted.

"Daddy," Max said, voice tentative, but Daniel's cock pulsed between his legs and he sucked and swallowed. "Yes, daddy," said Max, firmer. "Feels good, yes."

Daniel sank down far enough that his chin brushed Max's balls, and Max flinched, a tiny thrust that made Daniel cough. He pulled off and cleared his throat. "You don't have to," he said, voice already rough.

Max touched Daniel's temples again, feather-light. "If it's what you want," Max said and trailed off expansively.

Anything, he meant. He'd do anything for Daniel.

"Just come, yeah?" Daniel said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then pressed his face into the tender crease of Max's groin. "Just take what you need."

Max took himself in hand and started jerking off, the knuckle of his pinky finger rubbing Daniel's ear as he stayed put, just breathing in with his mouth open. "I'm going to come very quickly," Max said. "You're very--Daniel, I can't stop it."

Daniel turned his head and lapped at Max's balls, and then Max was groaning above him and coming, crushing Daniel's head between his legs. Some of it dripped down his dick until Daniel could taste that too, sharper and disgusting and wonderful. It was so good, and Daniel was dizzy with how much more he wanted, how he didn't want it to ever end.

When Max cooled down he let Daniel up. Daniel's own cock made an obscene tent in the fabric of his boxers. He was lightheaded, desperate to be touched. He was standing, and Max was looking up at him, eyes rimmed red and blue as a swimming pool, as tear-stained as Daniel had hoped. Max hooked his fingers into Daniel's waistband and yanked the boxers down. Daniel's cock bobbed. Max stuck out his tongue.

What a day to learn that Max had no gag reflex. That Daniel could sink straight into his throat and fuck in and out at his own pace. "Holy fucking shit fucking fuck shit cunt fuck," Daniel grunted like Max was dragging it out of him. "Shit, baby, fuck. You're so fucking, fuck. Max. Maxy."

Max's eyelashes fluttered and he breathed through his nose, the air tickling the sensitive skin at the base of Daniel's dick. And then he grabbed Daniel's ass and pushed him in, made him sink all the way and held him there, closed his eyes and swallowed, swallowed, swallowed. There was nothing for Daniel to do but give in and come with his dick buried to the hilt.

He must have toppled over, because in the next moment he had his face smushed up against the window of his motorhome and Max scrambling beneath him, pushing at Daniel's hips and teeth scraping as he freed himself. Daniel felt like he was moving through hot, sticky honey, collapsing onto the couch with his dick still spurting and Max rolling onto the floor.

But Max was laughing, saying, "Daniel, you're so unbelievable, oh my god," and smacking him on his butt. His ankles were all tangled up in his boxers. He was a mess. He couldn't help but laugh back.

"I think I'm broken. You broke my brain."

"Obviously," Max quipped. He pushed at Daniel's side until Daniel turned over onto his back, and then Max laid down on top of him. He was fucking heavy in the best way, like a little Maxy-downforce keeping Daniel from flying away.

"We did this backwards," Daniel said, and then when Max gave him a look of confusion he brought their mouths together.

After they were done kissing, for the moment, Max asked, "So you do, or you don't want me to call you daddy?"

Daniel cringed and smiled and laughed again. "I don't think, I mean, maybe. Sometimes, or like, on special occasions? But just Daniel is good."

"Just Daniel," Max repeated. "Thank you, Daniel."

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[ravenssunshine]

California Bliss- Elmax

Read on AO3

This is the first chapter of my Elmax fic! I’m excited!

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1,752 (longest writing yet, I think!)

Jane Hopper didn't exactly know much about the world, but she memorized Hawkins, Indiana like the back of her hand. She knew everything there was to know about that place. She was smart and she was careful. She followed the rules, knowing there was no reason to break them. Max Mayfield broke that safe bubble she lived in. Max Mayfield was a force of nature, and she was simultaneously terrified and so intrigued. When Max invited the whole party on a trip back to California, Jane barely knew what to say. She couldn’t leave Hawkins, they all knew that. But Max had the ability to make her a rebel, make her do things she didn’t understand. So she said yes. At 9:00 am the next them they all they all piled into two cars, Dustin, Lucas, and Steve into Steve’s car (Max’s dad had wanted to meet this ‘Steve’ Max kept talking about,) and Mike, Will, Jane, and Max into Max’s car. Mike and Will were asleep by hour one, leaving Max and Jane to talk.

“I’m glad you decide to come, Jane," Max said after a few minutes of silence. her hair was tied up into a long ponytail and Jane was admiring how the sun made it look like it was on fire.

"y-yeah. I wouldn't miss it for the world," Jane replied, really meaning what she said. like she said, Max made her feel and do things she never would’ve thought about doing. “What’s California like? I’ve only seen it on a map.I’ve only been out of Hawkins once, actually.”

“Well, California is pretty cool. The people there are a lot different. More accepting, not stuck in the past. There’s not really any winter there; it’s always hot. Um... we can go swimming. Or go to the beach.”

“That’d be nice. Everyone? Or you and me?”

“I was thinking more you and me, honestly. I want to get to know you better.”

Jane nodded. “I would enjoy that.” With that they sat in silence, driving for hours and listening to the radio. Jane would occasionally point out something out the window, and Max would look and laugh. They had mindless conversations, filled with unintentional flirting.

Mike and Will woke up about 3 hours in when they stopped for lunch. The lunch break was quick, the seven of them getting out of their cars and eating premade lunches from Joyce, Ms. Henderson, Mrs. Wheeler, and Mrs. Sinclair.

When they were done they got back in the cars and were back on the road. Since everyone in Max’s car was awake, they played typical road trip games, like bingo and I Spy. They exchanged stories and they were laughing the whole time. When it was dark out, they all met up again at a motel.

“Okay, shitheads, listen up,” Steve ordered. “I’ve booked four rooms and here are your sleeping arrangements: Max and Jane, obviously, Will and Mike, who will have to share a queen sized bed, Lucas and Dustin, and moi, who gets a king sized bed to himself. We leave at 9:00 tomorrow after breakfast. Go get your room keys. We should all be on the same floor.”

They all ran to the desk, grabbing keys at random. Looking at the room numbers, they split up and went upstairs. Once Max opened the door to the room, she swore. “Jane, I think we have Mike and Will’s key. There’s only one bed....”

“I can go switch the keys?” Jane suggested.

“Y-yes. Go do that. Please.”

Jane left the room and found Mike and Will after only a few minutes. Thankfully, Steve had successfully booked all the rooms on one floor. “We have your key because Max is an idiot. Care to exchange them?” She asked.

“Yeah. I’d rather share a bed with Will than be stuck in two different beds.” Mike said, winking at Will who turned bright red.

“Disgusting! Just get Max over here and go to your correct room,” Jane said, oddly flustered. She sat one of the beds and waited anxiously for Max and their bags.

Max walked in and threw Jane’s bag on her bed. “‘Night, Jane,” she said quietly, before getting into bed. Jane grabbed her bag and changed into her pajamas, getting into bed. “Goodnight, Max.”

Jane could not sleep. She knew what this feeling was but she didn’t understand. It was love, and she only knew it because that’s what Mike had described his feelings for Will as. They were the same as this. Only, Jane didn’t understand how she felt this for another girl. She knew it was okay for boys to like other boys, but no one said that girls could like other girls. She was scared, to say the least. She couldn’t fall asleep on her own, she needed to be close to someone. “Max?” She asked softly.

“Yeah?” Came the reply from the other side of the room. Max couldn’t sleep either.

“Can I uh... get into bed with you? I can’t sleep.”

“Sure.”

So Jane walked over to Max’s bed and crawled in beside her. They fell asleep quite quickly after that, limbs entangled. Needless to say, they were both restless sleepers.

At 8:00 am, Dustin came to wake the girls up. He noticed them both asleep in the same bed but didn’t assume more. “Um... Jane, Max, it’s time for breakfast. We go back on the road at 9:00.” He said in a loud voice, hoping to wake them up.

Max sat up quickly, doing her best to pry a sleeping Jane off of her. “We’ll be downstairs in 10...” she mumbled quietly before falling back asleep for five more minutes.

After those five minutes, both girls gradually woke up. They untangled themselves best as possible, still ending up with Max having to drag Jane off the bed. (It would’ve been carry, but Jane has a good 3 inches on Max.)

“We have like, five minutes to be packed and downstairs for breakfast. Now, I know that sounds shitty but they have waffles so it’s all good,” Max said, internally bracing herself for Jane’s dramatic groan.

Jane lived up to Max’s expectation and groaned, but got ready nonetheless. Max locked herself in the bathroom, throwing on a T-shirt and some shorts, not bothering to do anything with her hair.

Jane had on a nice white blouse and jean shorts, and of course, her black bandana from Kali that she always wore was around her wrist. Her silky loose brown curls were cascading down to to the middle part of her back, her bangs pushed back elegantly with a headband. How Jane looked effortlessly beautiful all the time, Max had no idea. Jane telekinetically tossed Max her suitcase, quickly wiping the drop of blood from her nose with the bandana before it fell on her white blouse. They walked downstairs together, spotting the party sitting at a table. Unsurprisingly, Mike, Will, Dustin, and Lucas were all wearing pajama pants and t-shirts, and Steve hadn’t put much more effort into his appearance either, with his hair not brushed and only in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Jane and Max shared a giggle, knowing the five of them probably wouldn’t ever get dressed if no one forced them too.

Max grabbed a bagel to eat while Jane took a waffle out of her bag. There was a toaster there that she put the waffle in. Yes- she brought her eggos with her on every trip.

After they finished they split up to their cars and started driving to California. Max, who was, started talking. “So what we could do is drive straight ‘til 5:00 am tomorrow. We can take turns and then by that time we should be at my house. Something around there. I know Jane doesn’t have her drivers license but we probably won’t get arrested if she drives for an hour or two on one of the more empty streets. I think this is what the other guys are doing.”

There was a chorus of “Okay” from everyone. So that was the plan. Drive for a really long time and hope for the best.

The first few hours in the car were completely silent. Jane looked back once to see if Mike and Will were awake and they were not. their seatbelts unbuckled, they were cuddling, completely asleep. Jane laughed, looking back at Max, who's face was bright red.

"Max, you okay?" Jane asked, concerned.

Max turned her head swiftly to look at Jane. “Yes. Why do you ask?” She asked stiffly.

“You’re bright red.”

“Oh am I? Must be the sun. Sunburn.” Max said awkwardly, forcing a chuckle. She turned back to the steering wheel, speeding up a bit.

Jane furrowed her eyebrows but didn’t ask anymore questions.

The rest of their long car ride passed without any issues. They chatted, getting to know each other even more, slept, and drove. When they finally reached Max’s house in California around 5:30 am, Max jumped out of the car, pulling Jane with her. Max knocked on the door excitedly, coming face-to-face with a tall, red headed man who must’ve been Max’s father.

“Daddy!” Max yelled, hugging him tightly. Her father laughed; his laugh sounded a lot like Max’s.

“Hi, Maxie,” he said cheerfully.

He then turned to Jane, saying, “I’m Roger, Max’s father. I’m assuming you’re Jane?”

“Yes, I am.” Jane said. Her voice was laced with drowsiness and Mr.Mayfield immediately noticed.

“Steve, Dustin, and Lucas are already here. They’re in the first guest bedroom. Why don’t you two take Max’s old room and the other two boys can take the second guest room?” Mr.Mayfield offered.

The girls nodded and went to go get Mike and Will and their luggage.

Max’s room was decorated for a 12 year old, still, despite the fact that they were 17. There was a bunk bed, which Max immediately climbed up on.

“I’ll take the top bunk and you’ll take the bottom bunk,” Max asked, although it was more of a statement. Jane nodded, and after changing into pajamas, climbed into bed, immediately falling asleep.

It took Max a little longer to fall asleep, still charged with excitement from seeing her dad again. She mentally planned out everything she would do with the party and made separate lists for what she would do with her dad and Jane. After a few minutes of doing this, Max fell asleep with a smile on her face. Damn, was she looking foreword to this week.

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