Title: Run, Run, Run
Category: Television Shows ยป Girl Meets World
Author: And The Moment's Gone
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Words: 1,792
Warnings/Spoilers: The kids are in High School, Josh is at NYU, Cory still lives in denial.

Official Disclaimer: All Girl Meets World characters and plots belong to Disney Channel, Marc Jacobs, and April Kelly, I do not hold stock either the company or the people. Maya Hart, Lucas Friar and any other character featured are NOT mine. The title comes from the Kelly Clarkson song Run Run Run and I don't own that either.

There is a laundry list of things that could have led to this moment, but Maya's trying very hard not to think about that.

Instead, she's thinking about the hands on her hips, and the stubble under her palm, and the fact that if she moves just so the man under her groans a little too loudly. She's fairly certain it's the Jameson running through her veins, or the outdated Kelly Clarkson in the air, that makes her not care that they're sharing a chair in the middle of someone's house party. Riley and her boyfriend left half an hour ago, the Matthews' curfew just a tad more strict than hers is, which was something that Maya had never really thought to appreciate until this very moment.

If she can make it through the night with her dignity intact, she just may owe Cory a thank you note.

A nip on her clavicle reminds her that she's been an inactive participant for just a little too long. Her arm wraps itself more firmly around his shoulder, fingernails digging into the tender flesh of the nape of his neck, and she redirects lips back up to hers, forcing thoughts of Matthews and curfews out of her mind.

He tastes like Miller Lite and mint gum, his hands are firm against her skin, and the entire combination reminds her that this was definitely not how the night was supposed to play out. What had started out as a kiss to the cheek and a playful 'ha-hurr' went sideways at light speed, and she's not sure if she's upset about it.

Her partner kisses her with the same single-minded meticulousness he exhibits on the field. It would be scary if it weren't hot, and with what little brainpower she's got left, Maya is appreciative that none of their friends were there to see it. She's seen him angry, she's seen him stressed and tense and itching for a fight.

This was an entirely different animal.

Then, as if he's finally realized what's going on, he pulls away.

And Maya knows what's coming next.

There are three different kinds of apologies in the world of Maya Hart. The first one is sincere. You know you did something so out of line, or incomprehensible that you're never going to make up for it, but that doesn't stop you from steadfastly declaring your remorse, and holding on tightly to your regret. The second is superficial. You're either not sure, or you don't care what it was that you did, but someone took offense, and the concession is in order to restore the peace.

It's the third kind that falls from Lucas Friar's lips, stuttering and breathless. He's a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar, not at all sorry for taking what he wants, but for being caught doing it.

Maya can't help the breath that rushes from her lungs, and she grips his shoulders to keep herself still.

"So," blowing another breath out of her lungs is painful, and not just because he still hasn't relinquished his grip on her hips and she is anchored pretty tightly into his lap. The obvious quip is half a second away, and she knows that the proper thing to do when you've just drunkenly started making out with your best male friend is to extradite yourself, go home and sober up. Clearly awkward conversations about things you shouldn't be doing required hangovers, and caffeine, and probably a mediator.

And she's too busy planning out her night of self-flagellation to notice that her partner in crime isn't really interested in what's supposed to happen next. While one hand anchors her hips, the other slides up her back, pausing to enjoy the soft skin of her back left exposed by the intricate straps on her tank top. Her entire body shivers again, and he takes that moment to thread his free hand into her hair, scratching her scalp and pulling her mouth crashing back down so he can imprint his disingenuous apology onto her lips.

There is no way to tell which one of them groans, and their lips swallow sound and breath alike as he pulls her hips forward. Maya allows it if only for the fact that she's not entirely sure she could physically stop him, and the grin he gives her when she has to pull her mouth away to gasp at the friction can only be classified as dirty.

Maya leaned in further, brushing her nose against his. "You sure you're up for this, Cowboy?"

If it was a question or giving either one of them an out, Lucas obviously wasn't taking it. His hand slid up and down her back carefully,

The next kiss was strong, careful. Lucas allowed her to lean closer and he didn't hesitate to lock their lips, shifting her hips closer so she was the one that had to hold on.

This wasn't pressure, barely even persuasion.

While Lucas was laying it on a little thick - something she attributed to the alcohol and lust cascading through his system - the second she hesitated or mentioned being the slightest bit uncomfortable he would flip the switch and become her concerned Huckleberry again. He would get her another drink, offer to take her home or whatever else he needed to do, and this would never be mentioned again.

Which could be another reason why the trill elevating up and down Maya's spine had nothing to do with nerves.

"Not here," she decided after a deep breath, eyeing the room around them. The party had begun to die down shortly after Riley left, and the classmates that remained weren't the type of people to remember their indiscretions, or particularly care. That didn't mean that she wanted witnesses either.

Her mother's in Jersey for the night, she got the text shortly after walking into the party. She's having trouble getting some of the choreography down for her newest show, and one of the other members of the chorus line had studio space in their basement and offered to go over the moves with her until she had them. Maya may or may not have responded that it was great, and she would just crash with Riley so her mother wouldn't worry about her being alone. She had originally planned to take a cab to TriBeCa after the party, and let Shawn's collection of British comedies lull her to sleep.

The apartment in question was empty, it's owner left the day before on assignment in California. She's equal parts terrified and thrilled that the calming solitude that she was going to take advantage of earlier now means something else entirely. Running through possible scenarios in her mind - and reminding herself to text Riley and tell her that she's staying at Shawn's, and her mother doesn't know - Maya realized that she's not the only one that will need an alibi. "What would you have to do to convince Mama Friar that you're staying at Zay's?"

Another kiss, which Lucas attributes to the fact that she's still sitting on top of him, and they haven't touched each other otherwise in the last minute and a half, before his brain kicks back into gear. He's used this ploy exactly two other times in his high school career. Amazingly enough, both were for less lascivious reasons. He's fairly certain that if he called his mama and told her that Maya had had too much to drink and - since he was a good friend and Katy wasn't home - he wanted to stay with her to make sure she was okay, he would be granted permission. But Carol Ann Friar was no stranger to the rest of his friends and their parents, and all it would take would be Cory casually mentioning that Maya was hangover free that weekend, or someone mentioning the blonde not going home and it would all be over.

"Why Zay?" He asks finally, as Maya grinds down on him again. It was an accident, he can tell by the blush creeping up on her cheeks and the way she makes another attempt to stand, this time using his shoulders as leverage. They've decided that they're taking this show on the road, so it appears that she's a little eager to get out of there.

"His parents are out of town." It's the first thing that drew Maya to that particular scheme. Followed quickly by, "And he's the only one that won't ask you why you need someone to lie to your mom if she happens to call in the morning and you don't pick up."

Lucas had never been happier that Maya's brain never stopped. As Maya pulled his jacket over her shoulders, he got to his feet, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and scrolling down to text his mother. The party was boring, he's seeing the girls home and then he and Zay were going to salvage their night by playing GTA and watching the new Terminator movie.

His next message told her that he remembered brunch at the Henderson's uptown and that he would be home to shower and change as soon as he wakes so they won't be late. The entire experience was surreal, and he realized that while he was typing,

Maya was leading him out of the party by his belt buckle, her other hand snaked backward to wrap around his bicep. When his phone was shoved back into his pocket, he gripped her hips, dislodging her hands and turning to pin her against the wall by the front door. He stooped slightly, to make sure their mouths lined up, and then used his leverage on her jeans to lift her up to his height when he got tired of bending his knees to kiss her.

They're three blocks away from a bed and no interruptions, but it doesn't matter to Lucas, who is taking his time to thoroughly enjoy the fact that Maya has wrapped her legs around his waist in an attempt to maintain an iota of control. She wrenches her mouth away to breathe, smacking the back of her head against the wall before tucking it under his chin. "We need a bed," she rasps, patting his shoulder in what he thinks is a signal for him to let her down.

He doesn't bother to remove his hand from her ass as she slides back down to her feet. She knows if she looks at him again, they're not making it out with their clothing intact, so she takes another gulp of air, grabs one hand, threading their fingers together, and pulls him out into the night air.