Those Nights We Remember
Summary: He knows it's selfish and wrong and everything he was taught not to be, but it's the only time she lets him in.
She's annoyed to see him at her window at one in the morning, and even moreso when she discovers that he's drunk. Again.
Though she wants to asks why he didn't go to Riley or Farkle's place like she usually does when he shows up, she already knows the answer so she doesn't. She instead steps aside and lets him stumble into her bedroom where he then collapses on the warm bed she'd been so comfortably sleeping in minutes before he'd arrived.
"Thanks," Lucas mumbles, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.
Rather than answer, she sighs heavily and drops her half finished bottle of water on his stomach. "Here, it'll help you sober up so you can get home."
He takes a small sip and tries to sit up. Or at least that's what she thinks he's trying to do. "I can't. My parents."
She closes her eyes in annoyance and sets her jaw, stemming her anger at both her loss of sleep and her willingness to keep his golden boy image pristine and squeaky clean. It had been amusing the first couple of times, but it was getting old. Fast. "You can't keep doing this, Moonshine. I'm starting to get worried."
He finally manages to prop himself up on his elbows, just enough to stare at her from her bed. "I know."
She wants to berate him more, to really lay into him to make sure that he actually does know, but she can't help but think that he looks like he belongs there and bites it back. Instead she holds her hand out impatiently."Your phone." He doesn't move-or more likely, he can't-so she's forced to reach over and dig into his pockets for it, ignoring the way his hot breath on her cheeks makes the rest of her body tingle.
She taps out a quick message to his mother, letting her know that he lost track of time and is staying over at Farkle's. She wouldn't question it because it happens often enough and who would want their kid walking home alone at night in New York City anyway?
She sets the device down next to hers on the nightstand and slides back into her bed, pulling her blanket over the both of them because he's not going to move and she doesn't have the energy to move him.
"Garbage can's on your right. If you puke on me I swear to god I'm never letting you in again." She switches her lamp off then, blanketing the room in darkness besides the light from her window.
The bed shifts suddenly, and the next thing she feels is his arm draping itself over her and pulling her body closer to his. "No," she mumbles, using her elbow to push him back. It's a half-hearted gesture but for her own peace of mind she has to say she tried.
"Please." There's no question in his voice because he knows she'll cave, just like she had the last few times he'd shown up this way. His breath smells like cheap beer and he's clinging to her a little too tightly, but she doesn't mind it. She lets him hold her, because this is the only time he ever will.
His eyes adjust to the meager sunlight seeping in from her window as he awakes. It's mostly blocked by the fifteen story building next to hers, and for that he's grateful. His mouth is dry and his head is pounding, so he sits up and drains the rest of the water bottle she'd given him the night before until he can feel his tongue again.
He stares down at her as she sleeps, wrapping the ends of her golden hair between his fingers and sighs.
He couldn't keep doing this. He didn't like the taste of beer at all, and partying with his teammates on the football team wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Unfortunately, being the star sophomore quarterback meant that he was required to at least make an appearance just so his teammates didn't think he was a snob or 'too good to hang out with them' when really, he preferred to study or do something that didn't kill brain cells or ruin his body.
The first time he'd gotten drunk had been pure accident. No one told him to pace himself, or that it took awhile for the alcohol to work its way into his system, so he'd gulped down every drink his team had shoved into his hands. It wasn't until an hour later that he realized he couldn't tell which way was up and panicked.
He needed help, and from someone he knew that he could trust to take care of him and keep it quiet at the same time. Riley was out, she'd either lecture him for three hours and then everyday afterwards or worse, get her parents involved. Farkle lived in the ritzier part of town, and he really didn't want to spend twenty bucks on a cab ride all the way over there.
But somehow, he knew Maya wouldn't judge him. Laugh at him, definitely, lord it over him for the rest of his life, without a doubt, but she wouldn't look at him as though he had somehow betrayed her. She wouldn't mention it to anyone else without his permission, because he knew for a fact she'd been there before. It also helped that she lived only four blocks away.
Like he'd thought she'd laughed herself sick as he stumbled around her bedroom. She hadn't protested when he'd made her bed his own, and even snuggled closer to his body and let him have what had possibly been the best night of sleep of his life. She didn't say a word about it afterwards, but he loved that they had a secret between just the two of them.
Now when he was invited to parties, he usually showed up late, drank as much as he could and was the life of the party for an hour, and then left to cuddle with the best friend of the girl he was supposed to have a thing for. He knows it's not healthy. He knows it's selfish and wrong and everything he was taught not to be.
But he does it anyway and because it's the only time she lets him in.
AN: Yikes, wrote this so long ago when I was super into the series and just now got around to proofreading/cleanup. I don't care what the writers say, I'm still shipping Mucas. I also don't care that everyone hates the pairing name I use come at me bros