AN:
Hello all. I'm sorry for leaving so for so long but I've had some life things and then I fell into a rut with this story I've been struggling to climb out of. I'm afraid if I catch up to what I have I'll get anxiety and chicken out of finishing so I've put off posting but I'm feeling motivated again and I'm going to try and do better. Thank you for hanging in there with me.
Some of you asked me to let elizadollittle know you missed her too and if you haven't checked it out yet, her story, The Things That Happen, updated about a week ago! It's excellent, hopefully she and I both will be back with more soon.
This is a long chapter. There's so much to organize thought-wise for both Mike and El. I hope you won't mind.
"Are we wrong? Are we right?
We jump first and then decide
It's hard to explain it
Heavy hearts weigh us down"
El stared down at her plate of eggs and french toast, feeling a bead of sweat drip down the back of her t-shirt. They were sitting outside of a small cafe, under an umbrella to block out the beating sun, but it wasn't the heat that was making her sweat.
"—parents have been so nice, like I know he's getting the shit end when it comes to in-laws but, honestly, I love his parents," Max chattered. "His whole family has helped so much. Apparently his great-uncle is totally loaded. He's paying for all the alcohol this whole week. That's why I keep letting myself get so drunk. I mean… it's free."
"That's so awesome," El responded automatically.
She was sure that at any second her friend would pause and look at her from across the table and immediately be able to tell. That she had screwed her ex-boyfriend and had totally ruined everything. Okay, maybe not ruined, but complicated things for sure. It had been hard enough trying to stay away from him when she thought he was a selfish jerk, who had left her behind without even bothering to admit he didn't love her anymore.
But now… now she knew he did still care about her, and wanted her, had missed her… fuck. How was she supposed to stay away? What was she going to do now? All her plans for how she would make it through this week had just been fucked. Literally. And really thoroughly.
During the months leading up to the trip, she had convinced herself that she would just ignore him. Be civil and try to pretend like his presence didn't bother her. It had been a whole conservation between her and Max on the phone.
"He's Lucas's best man. And you're my maid of honor. Which means you're going to have to walk together," Max apologized. "I know you're not… I mean, if you can't do it, I won't be upset, El."
"It's fine. Of course, I still want to be your maid of honor." She had brushed it off.
"No, I mean… he's going to be, like, right there. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"I won't be. We haven't talked in forever. It's not like… I mean, I don't care." A lie. "It's just walking down an aisle. I can handle it."
All bullshit. She'd done her best to harden her heart to the thought of him, trying to turn him into something she could ignore. However, last night had proved that he was impossible to ignore, and this morning had proved that she didn't want to. She didn't want to ignore him at all. In fact, she was already entertaining the idea of wanting to sleep next to him and lay in his arms and then roll over and let him fuck her brains out. Every day. For the rest of her life.
"El, are you listening?"
Max's voice snapped her back from her worries, looking up from her barely touched plate, eyes wide and apologetic. Shit.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm just a little…" She trailed off, unable to think of a word to describe her current frenzied state of mind. Nothing seemed shitty enough.
"Distracted?" Max supplied, arching an auburn brow. "I can tell." She took a sip of her iced coffee, watching her friend for a moment before allowing herself to smirk. "Does it have something to do with you running off last night? And Mike going after you? And then the two of you disappearing and worrying the shit out of the rest of us?"
El had known this was coming. There was no way Max wasn't going to bring it up. At least she'd been kind enough to give her some time to collect herself, and not immediately asked about it when El had hopped into the car earlier. More impressive was that the redhead had shown even greater restraint as she feigned innocence while they ordered their food, talking about the wedding instead. But now her curiosity was clearly too strong too ignore it any longer and El stifled a groan as she looked back down at her eggs.
She had known it was coming but she still didn't want to think about it out loud.
"I mean, a little I guess," she conceded.
"You better spill. Right now."
"Max…" It was a warning, but El sighed. "We… talked. I was drunk. He was drunk. He walked me back to the motel and we both went to sleep." She felt a surge of pride. All of that was one hundred percent truth.
Max didn't bother to hide her disappointment. "That's it? What did you guys talk about?"
"Um, well, I kind of yelled at him for following me. And he said he wasn't going to let me run around all alone while I was drunk—"
"Always has to be the hero," Max snorted.
"And then I ran back to the motel and slept. I was drunk and tired. So was he."
El tried to keep her face from giving away the half-truth she'd just uttered. From the look on Max's face, she didn't seem completely convinced. "How did you get back into your room if you left your purse at the bar?" she asked pointedly.
El felt the sweat trickling down her back again, stabbing a piece of french toast onto her fork and frowning. It would have to be an outright lie. She couldn't admit what had actually happened between she and Mike without Max losing her shit, and El needed to sort it out on her own before she had someone breathing down her neck about it. No, her friends couldn't know. It was complicated enough as it was.
But she hated lying.
"I got a spare key from the office," El shrugged, frowning down at her eggs which she was currently massacring with her fork, remembering Mike's suggestion from earlier that morning. "It's not that exciting. Sorry."
"Why do you smell like a dude then?"
Fuck. More lying.
She stabbed another piece of egg, dragging it through some syrup. "I left my soap at home… I borrowed some body wash."
"From who?" Max's eyes glinted and El frowned, still refusing to make eye contact.
"From…" Her fork skittered across the plate and she picked a name that wasn't Mike. "Dustin. Can we talk about something else? It's not that big of a deal. I told you it was fine. We're fine. I'm fine. Stop asking," she snapped.
The redhead looked a bit surprised at her tone but shrugged, backing off. Remorse immediately flooded in and El sighed heavily, noticing how her friend was watching with narrowed eyes, clearly still suspicious. The eggs on El's plate were a something akin to slasher film finale and she took a deep breath. Snapping wasn't fair.
"Sorry, I'm just tired. I don't want you to always be worrying about me. I can handle myself, okay? Just let me… breathe. You have a wedding to worry about. Don't let me be a distraction."
"El, you're not a distraction. I just want to make sure you're okay and usually when people disappear with their ex and they're both drunk it doesn't end well." A calculated pause. "I'm glad that wasn't the case this time."
"Me too."
It was quiet as El shoved as much of her now destroyed food into her mouth as possible in an attempt to avoid being questioned further. The redhead stared for a moment longer but then exhaled and picked up her own fork. Some things weren't worth fighting about.
"Alright. Fine. I won't ask again but if something goes wrong or he makes you feel uncomfortable…"
"He won't." El rolled her eyes at that. "It's Mike Wheeler we're talking about, Max. If he thought he was making me uncomfortable he would… do something dumb. Like try to be invisible or something impossible. It would just make things worse."
Max snorted. "You're right. Wheeler and that hero complex. You'd think a couple years in a big city would have beat it out of him. I mean, literally. Lucas told me how the tall idiot tried to stop a mugging a few months ago and ended up with two black eyes."
"What?" El gasped, her lungs filling with a righteous fury. "Someone… hurt him?"
"Yeah…" Max looked too gleeful. "And they took his wallet. If he'd been hurt worse I wouldn't laugh but, god, it's just such a Wheeler thing to do. Rush in trying to save the day and get his ass handed to him. I guess he's always going to have to be the… what was he? In D&D?"
"Paladin," El supplied quickly.
"Right. The whole righteous white knight thing doesn't always translate over so well into real life," she shrugged. "I hope he doesn't do anything stupid like that again… he could seriously get hurt."
Max was still laughing but her brow was furrowed just slightly, giving away her underlying concern.
"I guess," El huffed moodily. She didn't find any of it funny. She had to take a deep breath, unclenching her first and looking down at the indentation the fork had made across her palm. Who had hurt him? If she ever found out she would tear them in fucking half. Sure, she'd been angry and hurt and mad at him and had maybe wished he'd stub his toe or have a really bad day… but getting mugged? And beaten? Why did he always have to put himself where the bullies found him?
"Okay, well anyways, Lace and Bethany should be here soon. I'm excited for you to meet them! They had roller derby last night and then practice this morning, or they would have joined us earlier," Max said breezily. "I keep thinking about joining their team but…"
"Roller… derby?"
Occasionally El would still come across a word she didn't know. The same tone of quiet curiosity filled her voice as she tilted her head.
"Yeah, it's like a giant fistfight but on roller skates. Cool nicknames. Lots of bruises." Max's eyes were shining but El wrinkled her nose. Violence wasn't her thing unless required. "It sounds super fun but I just haven't had the time to commit. But that's how I met them, anyways, they came in to the shop for new helmets and pads and then Lace was at the park on her longboard, and the next thing I knew we were slamming shots of whiskey at McKinney's."
"Sounds… great."
Max babbled on and El felt that strange sinking in her stomach again. The one she'd felt when Mike had told her about his job in New York. The one that had wracked her body in waves when Dustin, the last one left in Hawkins besides her, had bounced into the library and picked her up in a bear hug and loudly announced he was moving to Chicago. The same feeling she'd felt after hanging up the phone, trying to process the fact that Max and Lucas were going to get married. The feeling that always followed the same sudden… thing. The thing that El hated.
Change.
It kept taking people from her, molding them into unrecognizable shapes that she no longer knew. Ones who seemed much too grown up to want to still be friends with her.
It was stupid. They were still her friends. Fighting interdimensional monsters and saving the world together kind of bonded you for life. Nothing could change what they'd been through, the suffering and heartache and joy and triumph. But when it came down to it, life kept moving and taking them from her, and she hated it.
She missed the hot summers spent biking through the streets as heat waves danced around them, racing to the city pool. Making blanket forts in the Byers's living room and watching Star Wars until Joyce made them all put on pajamas and get into their sleeping bags. Birthday cakes made by Mike's mom with glowing candles and pink frosting that ended up smeared on smiling cheeks and lips. Rolling in piles of leaves, sledding down snowy banks, dancing under the blossom filled trees until it was summer again and they could spend their spare quarters beating high scores and buying popcorn to share.
They had all been happy and together then.
Sure, she was almost twenty-four. She was an adult, she paid rent and made coffee for her parents in the morning and cooked dinner and did her own laundry. It's not like she was still prancing around Hawkins in her pink dress trying to pretend she was twelve again. But she still missed those days of simplicity and happiness… the feeling that had vanished along with her friends. Safety. Contentment. Peace.
The happiest part of her childhood had been so short. Why did it have to end?
Or at the very least, why did everyone have to leave?
"Maxine!"
A loud voice yelled right behind El and she jumped, her fork flying from her hand and onto the ground. Max scowled immediately, always having hated being referred to by her full name, but she was fighting a smile as she held up her middle finger towards someone.
"Whatever, Alice," she shot back.
"Bitch, I will murder you!"
El whirled around just in time for someone wearing a shredded Guns N' Roses shirt and red plaid to fill up her vision. It was like getting hit by the screech of an amp and she barely had time to blink as two women sat down on either side of the table. Max noticed her panic.
"El, this is Bethany," she quickly said, gesturing to the woman on her right. Bethany's body language and friendly smirk reminded El of Max immediately, but she had sun-kissed blonde waves that looked like the type of hair a mermaid would have, and tan skin that was nothing like Max's auburn and pale freckled complexion. She was wearing a light blue rash-guard that matched her eyes and a pair of tan cargo shorts, looking like she was ready to jump on a surfboard at any second and swim out to sea.
"Hi," El waved, managing to smile back. Bethany seemed friendly. That was a relief.
"And this is Lace. Short for Alice, but don't call her that or she'll pound your face in. Right, Lace?" Max was grinning.
"Yeah, sure. Nice to meet you," Lace snorted, sticking her hand out for an actual handshake.
El didn't know where to look. Lace was big, not necessarily large or obese, but everything about her was just… big. She was tall and curvy, a shapely hourglass that filled out her shredded band tee with an open red plaid shirt over it, an equally shredded pair of acid wash jeans on her hips. Her hair was bleached blonde, a contrast to Bethany's natural golden waves, with dark roots and eyebrows, her eyes made darker with messy black eyeliner and dark brown lipstick. She'd already made herself comfortable, resting her combat boot-covered feet up on the edge of the table, looking confident and cool and relaxed.
She was so… grunge-y punk rock bad ass. El's shoulders pulled into her body and she found herself leaning away. She hadn't seen anyone look so badass since she'd met Axel back in Chicago.
"Oh, um, yes. Same to you," she blundered, holding out her hand.
Lace nearly shook her out of her chair and when she let go El shrunk back, feeling suddenly very small. Whatever conversation she and Max had been having was officially over as Lace began ranting about their practice that morning, even pausing to pull her shirt up and show a huge red welt on her hip.
"—but if she pulls that move out on the Calamity Psycho Hags at next week's meet, I'll forgive her," she ended her story with a casual shrug. "Anyways, where's the waiter? I'm fucking starving. Oh, is that french toast?" Her eyes zeroed in on El's half-eaten plate.
"Um… yeah."
"Are you going to finish it?"
"I guess… not?" El felt oddly pressured to hand over her food. She wasn't that hungry anyways.
"Cool!" Lace smiled and pulled the plate towards her, picking up a piece of toast with her bare hands and shoving it into her mouth. "Ew, why did you put syrup on your eggs?"
"Dude, don't even give her shit, you eat way weirder things than syrup on breakfast food," Bethany cut in, rolling her eyes but clearly used to her friend's behavior. "She's being nice and letting you have it. Don't bitch about it."
"Yeah, yeah."
El smiled gratefully at Bethany, and Max seemed to nod in agreement, frowning at Lace's grabby hands. The bride-to-be exhaled, clearly giving up on that argument before it even happened and scooted her own plate away from the hungry bridesmaid. Time to get to business.
"Okay, so, now that we have the maid of honor—" Max paused as Lace muttered something under her breath that El thought sounded kind of like "Finally". Max pretended she didn't notice. "Now that we're all here, we need to do some stuff so my wedding doesn't totally suck. I don't care about a lot of things, but I want it go well because Lucas's parents and family are here and they deserve it." She sniffed, lifting her chin. "And they're really nice and I don't want them to have to deal with anything too crazy."
"What would I possibly do that was crazy?" Lace shot back, grinning widely.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe getting smashed at the bar and then hitting on every single person in the immediate vicinity?" Max scowled, like she was daring her friend to fuck up her wedding. Lace put up her hands in surrender and Max continued with a roll of her eyes. "Okay, so, here's the game plan for today. After this I want us to all go back to my place and try on dresses so if something is fucked up we can fix it now and not later. Then you have to help me make the bouquets, I bought some fake flowers and shit, and I'm sure El would appreciate a little help with the bachelorette party. Right?"
El nodded and Lace snorted.
"I suppose you'll need to know the good bars and stuff around here. I've got you covered," she nodded cooly. It seemed like a nice offer but the condescending gleam in her eyes made it feel more like a jab and El frowned, looking down at her hands in her lap.
Of course she needed help. But it's not like she didn't know anything. She'd been to Nancy's bachelorette party and that had been fun, and full of penis-shaped things, and alcohol, and laughter. Truth be told she'd been planning on going through the phone book and making a list of bars to try out. Getting help would be nice but not if it was full of… condescension.
"If you want to go to the mall and buy some supplies, I can take you," Bethany added with conspiratorial grin. "There's one of those sex shops over there. We could get some fun stuff."
"Yes, thank you. That would be great."
After that Lace dominated the conversation, grumbling about the summer heat and how her manager had been giving her shit for not conforming to the dress code. El sat quietly, feeling small and insecure and unsure of how she could compete. This woman seemed to know Max so well—they shared inside jokes and looks and laughter—and she began to wonder why she had been chosen as maid of honor when clearly she knew so little about her friend.
The car ride to Max and Lucas's apartment was similar, and El found herself staring out the window, watching the unfamiliar landscape go by. Dotted with palm trees and dancing heat waves, so different from the green and brown Midwestern landscape she'd grown to love. Part of her wondered… what did New York City look like?
She stayed quiet until they were in the cozy apartment and Max opened her closet, unveiling the bridesmaid dresses.
"Ta da!" The redhead grinned broadly, gesturing like a magician. "All made to the measurements you gave me, so they can't… not fit."
El would have squealed happily but somehow she had the feeling she would come across annoying to the other girls, instead grinning happily as she reached for her dress. It was a beautiful deep red, the color that had always suited Max's personality so well. Each dress was a slightly different style. Bethany's was a modern square neckline with thin straps and a straight silhouette that didn't overpower her petite frame while Lace had more of a body-hugging cut, with off the shoulder sleeves, her ample bust keeping the fitted cups up. Both looked amazing lowkey sexy, and El quickly slid into her own dress.
The strapless dress was a little more retro, with a sweetheart neckline to accentuate her chest, the high cut waist showing off how tiny she was, and finishing with the hemline hitting her right above the knee. They were all short dresses, Max's white one was short too, to keep from dragging in the sand on the beach.
When Max suddenly appeared in her wedding dress, El couldn't remember to care and finally let herself scream in excitement.
"Max!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh my god!"
"Quit it! Don't cry, I'll cry!" Max protested, grinning as she ran to hug her maid of honor.
Her dress was understated, a white skater dress with thick straps and a v-neck. It had a bit of lace around the waist and the neckline, making her seem bridal but avoiding the fluff and puff and gallons of embroidery that were currently all the rage. A tiny netted veil covered half of her face and El knew with a little mascara and powder that her friend was going to be jaw-dropping.
"You look good, Max," Lace butted in, throwing her arm around the bride's shoulders. "You sure you want to marry him instead of me? I'm still down if you want to elope last minute. No conditions apply."
The bigger woman threw her head back and laughed, but El frowned, noticing the uncomfortable look on Max's face. Bethany was the saving grace, pulling El towards the other two and turning it into a group hug.
"Max is getting married," she sang, her voice like waves on a beach. "Max is getting married! Max is getting married!"
They started bouncing, and laughing, and soon collapsed, happy and giddy and out of breath. In her mirth El slid closer to the bride, tucking her hand into Max's and squeezing. The old friends shared a secret smile and for a moment El forgot all of her anxieties about the trip, the stress of her actions that morning, and her uncertainty of what would happen next. For those next few hours while they put together bouquets of fake flowers, she let herself smile and laugh, feeling her friend's happiness glow inside of her.
For the most part.
The apartment smelled amazing. She didn't know when they had taken up cooking, but Max and Lucas were in the kitchen, boiling the spaghetti and cooking meatballs like it was second nature. El smiled, content and happy to be surrounded by the familiar, as she placed the folded napkins around their small dinner table, her feet dancing to the rhythm of the music from the other room. It had been a good day.
"El, could you get the door? I bet it's the guys," called Max.
Surprised that she hadn't heard the knock or a bell, El answered back a quick, "Sure!" Swiftly finishing her task, then scurrying to the small entry area.
It was pretty decent-sized apartment, the top floor of a small house with two bedrooms, a dining area, and tub-shower. The neighbor's who lived in the basement apartment were old and deaf and didn't mind stomping feet.
El really liked it, the homey, cozy feeling, and had spent the entire day there, catching up with Max after the other bridesmaids had left. She was happy to help tidy up their apartment, even running out to the store to pick up last minute groceries. It had been nice, her mind distracted from her worries.
There was another knock.
"Coming," she called, hurrying faster down the hall.
Opening the door El felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as the familiar scent of the Old Spice body wash, that tellingly clung to her own skin, and the sight of a baby blue cotton button up, greeted her. Her pulse quickened as her eyes drifted higher, and suddenly all the worries she'd been ignoring that afternoon crashed over her as she stared up at Mike.
He looked equally caught off guard, his defined brows arching slightly at the sight of her. The stubble that had rubbed against her skin that morning was gone, his face freshly shaved, and he was holding a bottle of moscato. Her favorite kind of wine.
His lips gaped open, just slightly, like he was going to say something and she felt a shiver run through her as she remembered what those lips had done to her mere hours ago. He'd left an ache between her legs and now at the mere sight of him it was burning again, the sudden urge to pull him against her screaming in her mind.
"Mike, would you move?" Dustin snapped, shoving his taller friend from behind.
Mike staggered forward and El put her arms out automatically, bracing him, her small hands pressing against his solid chest. She had noticed that too this morning, how his biceps and pecs had become more firm beneath the press of her nails, how his chest had broadened a bit, the last bit of boyish softness vanishing and leaving behind a strong jawline and well muscled neck that made her dizzy. She wanted to touch every new line and dimple, relearn every part of him.
The momentum of Dustin's shove was more than they had both expected, and El found herself catching the weight of him as he continued to stumble forward, their bodies pressing together. Her stomach clenched at the sensation of the chilled glass of the wine bottle caught between them. His hand caught her waist to steady himself, the touch sending bolts of heat all through her.
"El." It was a low gasp she knew no one else had heard and suddenly she was throbbing. He'd said her name the same way that morning, while his hands pinned her wrists to the cool sheets and he'd moved inside of her, filling her body over and over.
Oh fuck.
Common sense finally flooded in and she pulled back as he took his hand off of her and steadied himself against the wall. She snatched the wine from him without a word, avoiding his eyes as her face flamed, and then she turned and fled, running to the safety of the kitchen. Why did she end up running away from him so often lately?
"Um, El?" It was Lucas, standing in front of the stove and watching her pant as she leaned against the fridge. "You okay?"
"Wine," she blurted, holding up the bottle. "I… I need some. Dustin and Mike are here."
Max had been staring at her but quickly disappeared to greet their guests and then Lucas was holding a corkscrew and popping the cork out of the bottle as El watched, trying to calm herself. He filled a glass silently and handed it to her, watching with an impressed expression as she downed the entire thing in one chug. She set it down and wiped her mouth, knowing there was still a blush on her cheeks.
"Let me guess… it's because of Mike?" asked Lucas calmly. He was being gracious and not looking at her as he strained the pasta in the sink.
"No!" Her face grew hotter and then she groaned, staring down at her empty glass. "Okay… yes. I… am I being stupid?" She had to think of the right word and tried again. "I mean, overreacting?"
"Nah. But you just chugged a glass of wine after opening the door, so I figured…" He seemed careful, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing. "Are you going to be okay? I know you guys, um, fought last night? Or… talked?"
"Yeah, we were drunk. It's… fine, we're not going to ruin this week." She bit her lip, knowing she needed to give some sort of explanation for her overreaction. "I was surprised just now. I'll be okay," she conceded. "I just… it's still weird. I don't know."
Now that was the truth. El had no idea what to feel. The anger she'd been nursing for years was gone, soothed away by the feel of Mike's gentle kisses on her forehead as he held her and comforted her worries that morning. There was no doubt in her mind that he cared about her. That he still wanted her. But was it a one time thing or… could they be something more?
Did she even want that?
The burning between her thighs reminded her that she definitely wanted him. It was impossible to ignore. Every nerve in her body screamed for him, to let him back in and to feel happy and safe, like he used to make her feel.
But he had left her, had chosen bigger dreams than what she wanted. That was the problem. He was no longer safe, and every warning bell she'd installed in her head over the years was telling her it was a terrible idea to run back to him. It was dangerous and painful and stupid.
Because at the end of the week, he had to leave again.
Reaching for the wine, she poured herself another glass and sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. Why had she told him they would talk later? That had been a bad idea. There was nothing to talk about, or nothing she wanted to talk about. It would end with him giving her the same answer he had before and she couldn't do it a second time. Her heart wouldn't be able to handle it again.
The morning had been… incredible. Amazing. Mind-blowing. It had been everything she'd been wanting. She hadn't lied when she told him she missed him. Everything she'd said had been the truth, even if it had been an answer to a demand. There had been too many nights when she'd longed for him to appear at the door, just for a few hours, to crawl over her in her bed like he used to, to claim her again and pant against her bare flesh as they gasped together, to feel him, every inch of him, all over her while she cried out his name.
Her wish had come true. In every way. So why was everything suddenly so confusing?
"El, seriously, you're about to drink the whole bottle. If you're too uncomfortable and want to go, I'll drive you back," Lucas offered, walking over and taking the wine away from her. "It's really okay if you don't want to deal with it. I know you guys…" He paused, trying to be delicate. "I know it was really hard on you. If you don't want to be here with him right now, it's okay. Max and I won't be mad."
She sighed heavily, repeating what she'd said before. "Lucas… it's fine. He surprised me just now. We're fine. I promise."
At that word he backed off, knowing she was serious. He set the wine in the fridge and then went back to stirring the marinara, staying quiet and letting her try to collect herself in peace. She appreciated it.
God, what was she going to do? Her body had reacted the same way it had that morning, first when they'd woken up, and then again in the bathroom, giving in without a second thought. Only this time it had been worse because they were around people who couldn't know. How would she explain it to them? Any of it? She didn't even know what was happening between she and Mike, how could she clarify it for all of their friends?
No. No one could know. That would just make it worse.
With a sigh she tried to strengthen her resolve, putting her shoulders back and taking a step towards the dining room where she could hear voices. She could do this. It was just Mike. And all of their friends. This would be fun, just like old times.
I can do this. I can totally do this.
There was another knock at the door and she almost sagged in relief, barking out an eager, "I'll get it!" and bolting for the door, grateful for any excuse to put off the inevitable a little longer. It was Will and she pulled him straight into a hug as the door shut behind him.
"Oh, wow, hey, El."
"Hi," she mumbled, her face squished against his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here."
He laughed amusedly, "Me too. I didn't think you'd be so excited to see me. I mean, I saw you last night at the bar."
"For like a minute! I missed you." She gave him a squeeze. "Joyce and Dad miss you too."
"I just visited last month."
"Too long."
Max interrupted them, giving Will a side hug and telling them the food was on the table, ushering them towards the tiny dining room. El felt the wine hit her bladder, and excused herself to head to the bathroom. She wanted to splash some cold water on her face anyways, to try and get the incessant heat boiling beneath her skin to calm the fuck down.
The door was closed and she frowned, wondering if they kept their door shut all the time or if it was in use. She reached for the knob, just as the door opened, and once again she found herself staring up into Mike's dark brown eyes.
He had that same look of surprise he'd had earlier and she inhaled sharply. She was struck by a sudden thought. Had he told anyone? She had assumed he hadn't… but that was a dangerous assumption. He could have told everyone by now, maybe he was proud or something, wanting to brag to his old friends about what they'd done.
"El—"
He was cut off as she shoved him back into the small bathroom, shutting the door behind her and frowning up at him. This was going to count as "talking later," she decided. She didn't want to try and figure what any of it meant, but she needed to make it clear that nobody could know.
"Did you tell them?" She asked sharply. "About… anything?"
He blinked in confusion but then caught on, shaking his head. "No. Of course not. I didn't… I mean," he flushed, that lovely shade of red creeping up his neck, "not that I'm like, regretting it or anything, I just didn't think… they needed to know."
She nodded in satisfaction, feeling relieved. Good. The wine she'd had made everything a little bit softer and she calmed, deciding that any crisis had been avoided and she didn't need to worry.
"Okay. Good." Her hand reached up to tug a curl, her usual thinking habit. "Can we… keep it that way? Not telling anyone? At all?"
"Sure," he shrugged. "If that's what you want."
"Yes."
They were quiet then, and he eyed her intently, almost studying her. The blush remained on his cheeks and El tried to decipher what he was thinking. Was he embarrassed? It was just the two of them. Maybe he felt guilty? Or just nervous? Psh, like he had any reason to be nervous. He'd had her begging for him this morning, why would a chat in a bathroom be making him nervous?
She stared up at him, noticing how his eyes were heavy with something. They trailed down, from her face to her silhouette, sliding up and down her body, the heat she'd drowned in wine earlier earlier suddenly blazing through her again.
Was he… turned on?
He licked his lips and her mind blanked as she realized that he totally was. She knew that look. He'd looked at her that way so many times before, from the driver's side of his car or over his textbooks as they studied. She felt surprised, looking down at her outfit. It wasn't that cute or sexy, a denim overall dress with a yellow t-shirt underneath, one of the few outfits she'd brought with a high enough neckline to cover the bruised skin on her collarbone he'd left with his teeth that morning. There was no way she was making him horny.
"I won't tell." His voice was low and she felt herself shiver as his eyes slowly dragged up to her face. "I promise."
He's totally horny.
She felt her own body heat again as a surprising surge of pride welled within her. So she still had the ability to get him hard just by looking at him. Things between them hadn't changed as much as she thought.
She raised an intrigued eyebrow, tilting her head, noticing how the muscles in neck grew taught as she set a hand on her hip. She let her hand drift down to the edge of her skirt, playing with the denim hem and lifting it slightly. He swallowed, eyes fixed on the extra inch of newly exposed skin, his hands clenching into fists.
Oh. He was totally gone.
"Mike." It was a command and he finally looked up from the skin of her thigh, pupils wide and hungry. "Are you okay?"
"I'm f-fine," he swallowed, a sheen of his sweat on his brow.
"You sure?" she asked, innocently, taking a not-so-innocent step closer to him.
"Y-Yes."
He looked so tempting standing before her, tense, all lines and angles, every muscle flexing as if trying to hold himself back. El felt herself slipping too, craving that raw need, tripping over attraction and the knowledge of how much she still affected him. His dark gaze moved to her lips, waiting for some sort of go ahead. And god, she wanted it too. She wanted him to do what he had this morning, to recreate those perfect moments where she'd been lost in him. She wanted to forget again, for a little while, that they had to be anything but this.
"Kiss me," she whispered.
His eyes sparked and then she felt herself being slammed against the door, his hands under her thighs as he lifted her and shoved himself between her legs. Their mouths crashed together like a hurricane and she moaned into him as he pressed every inch of himself against her. The bulge in the front of his jeans rubbed against her core and she groaned. Fuck, he felt amazing.
Her tongue slid into his mouth, teasing him and then he was the one groaning. His grip on her began to loosen as he lost himself in the feel of her. El felt herself slipping downward against the door, and with a frustrated growl, he hitched her back up and turned them, slamming her against the wall above the toilet, so her butt rested on the tank, keeping her up. His knee balanced him on the lid and then he was rolling his hips against her, his face against her neck as he panted in her ear, needy and desperate as he tried to satisfy his obvious lust.
Each thrust made the heat grow hotter and she nipped his ear and then cheekbone, moving down to the smooth jawline she found irresistible. She couldn't think about anything that wasn't him and how hot he was and how much she wanted to let him eat her alive.
"I wanna be inside you," he whispered into her ear. "I need you so bad, El."
"Ohhh," she whined, mind blanking at his words, "please, Mike."
Her hands slid down to his belt, the buckle jangling as she undid it, and he was rucking her skirt up around her hips, fingers finding her soaked panties, his touch electric, his tongue on her neck and—
There was a sudden burst of laughter from out in the apartment and the fog in El's mind cleared.
"Wait!"
He froze, pulling back, eyes huge and concerned.
"We can't, Mike," she panted, her body still reeling from his onslaught. "They'll hear. They'll know. Th-There's not enough time." Her body was screaming at her to shut up and keep going but she shook her head, eyes apologetic. "We can't right now."
He groaned, his head falling onto her shoulder, their bodies still flush against each other. They were both aching, wanting, needing, craving. But she was right. If they gave in they could blow the secret they'd just established was a secret.
"Later," she murmured soothingly, her hands moving up to tangle into his hair. "Come to my room later. We can…" She smirked knowingly, eyes teasing. "Talk."
The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk and he eased back, still frustrated but now more willing to give up on ripping her clothes off and fucking her brains out right then and there against the tank of the toilet. She pulled him down and kissed him again, hard, letting him feel her matching frustration, before scooting forward and pushing him off.
She tugged at her overall skirt and readjusted her shirt, hoping to put herself back into a state that didn't look thoroughly ravished, not noticing the way he was gazing at her with fond eyes. When she glanced back up at him he was still staring and she felt herself flush, quickly looking away.
Her eyes fell to the toilet tank that he'd just had her on, panting and aching for him. She may be able to turn him on just by looking at him, but he could reduce her to a begging mess in a matter of seconds. It was an admittedly odd balance but somehow she didn't mind.
"That was… kind of crazy" she noted quietly, needing to fill the charged silence as they both finished putting themselves back together. Her hand went up to her cheek as if she could brush away her blush.
"Yeah," agreed Mike with a nod. His voice a bit raspier than usual. "S-Sorry about that. I'll try not to..." he trailed off, searching for the right words.
"Try not to what? Fuck me in the bathroom while our friends have dinner next door?" offered El, a slight grin twisting her lips, amusement glittering in her eyes. Why was this suddenly so… funny?
At El's blunt words, Mike startled, as if suddenly realizing just how out of control he had let things get. He stepped closer, tense, like he wanted to reach out but wasn't if that would make it hard for them again. His brow was pinched.
"Fuck, El, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," she reassured him, letting a soft laugh flutter out. She was as much of a willing participant as he was. It's not like he'd thrown her over his shoulder and run off with her like a viking ravager. Though ravaged did seem to be the right word...
"It's not," he refuted. "I totally respect you but I've just been—"
"—Mike. It's okay, seriously," she interrupted, cutting off his speech. He still looked shamefaced and she stepped forward, emboldened by what had just taken place. Her hands went up to his chest and she stood on her tiptoes, humming into his ear, "Besides, if they weren't waiting out there, I would have let you."
"El," he groaned, hands moving to clutch at her waist, pulling her closer, his body concaving as if he wanted to pull her into him. Needy.
"Hey, no. We really can't," she smirked softly again as she pulled away, out of reach of his grabbing hands.
"Why do you hate me?" he groaned moodily, a small grin on his lips, but he sighed and let her go. "Pulling up your skirt and telling me to kiss you and then pushing me away." It was almost a whine and she rolled her eyes, hopping onto the counter of the sink and crossing her legs casually, trying to give him room to get to the door. His stare rested on the tanned skin of her calves, following them up to her skirt and she cleared her throat, grabbing his attention back to her raised eyebrow.
"Um, I still need to pee so…" She gestured at the toilet, biting her lip.
"Oh. Oh right. Yeah, sure," he nodded overenthusiastically, stepping backwards to the door. "I'll see you out there. Uh, but not… I mean, I still won't say anything."
She blinked gratefully. "Great. See you."
He slid out of the door, closing it firmly and she dropped onto the fuzzy toilet lid cover, dropping her face into hands and letting out a groan. If that didn't prove she was screwed, she didn't know what did. The space between her legs was absolutely throbbing and she knew that if he knocked on her door tonight there was no way she would refuse to let him in.
Shit. What if he did actually want to talk? What was she going to say?
Instead of thinking about it, she stubbornly pushed the worry away, actually using the bathroom and then washing her hands. She splashed chilly water onto her eyes and cheeks, letting the liquid drip down her face and off her chin. Her reflection stared at her from the mirror over the sink and she stared at herself unhappily, reaching up to tug the collar of her t-shirt further up, hiding the irritated line of pinched skin under her collarbone. Ugh.
With a final discontent sigh, she left the bathroom, venturing back out to the dining room where everyone was already eating, plates full of salad. They all looked up and teased her for taking so long and she managed to smile and roll her eyes, taking the last empty seat, between Max and Will. It was a small table, meant for four instead of six, two extra chairs wedged in.
El looked at the happy scene in front of her. Her mind flashing back to late nights spent crammed around a similarly small table in the basement of Mike's house. Playing D&D and laughing, fingers orange with Cheeto dust and her lore book stained with Mr. Pibb stains from all the times she'd spilled. Mike's hand on her thigh under the table, slowly inching higher.
"Earth to El!" Dustin's voice was loud enough to shock her from her memory. "Hey, quit spacing and help me out. Temple of Doom wasn't as bad as it could have been, right?"
El wrinkled her nose. "Ew, no, Dustin, what are you talking about? It was terrible."
Everyone burst out laughing as Dustin huffed, Lucas reaching across his fiancee to punch El's shoulder happily. El smiled, accidentally catching gazes with Mike, who was rather inconveniently seated directly across from her at the small table. Clearly it had been made a point to not make them sit next to each other. This arrangement was almost worse. Her stomach dropped and the low throbbing returned, while she watched him laugh, his dark eyes shining with pride.
She kept knocking elbows with Will as they ate and she was grateful that it was just the six of them, and that Bethany and Lace hadn't been invited. Max had said they wanted a dinner with just the old Party, but El was starting to think part of it had to do with the lack of space. Which was fine with her. She didn't really think she could have put up with Lace for much longer, and she definitely didn't want her anywhere near Mike.
Her face flushed with anger as she remembered their earlier conversation.
"So." They were sitting in the living room on the couch, surrounded by fake flowers, hot glue guns, and scissors. "Tell me about the guy I'm walking with. Is he hot?"
Max pulled a face. "Lace, no. Don't sleep with any of my childhood friends, I'm begging you."
"I didn't say I wanted to sleep with him! I just asked if he was hot!"
"You only ask that question if you want to bang them," Bethany intoned, not bothering to look up from the stem of baby's breath she was fluffing.
"Just tell me, okay?" Lace rolled her eyes.
"Okay, fine. You're walking with Dustin. He's…" Max had to stop and think. "He's great, but he can drive me nuts sometimes—he always has to argue everything—but I mean, I guess he's kind of cute. Curly hair, bit of a lisp. He's kind of… fluffy, not like chubby or anything, but he's never really liked sports. Or working out. But he loves food."
"He has a nice smile," El put in, half-smiling at the thought of her goofy friend. "And he tells funny jokes. He gives good hugs."
"Jeez, you gonna marry him?" Lace snarked, rolling her eyes as if El daring to speak was something to be annoyed with.
"Shut up, Lace." Max and Bethany said at the same time.
They'd picked up on the weirdly hostile vibe between the maid of honor and the maid of honor-wannabe. It was hard to ignore and El felt small, every comment she made shut down almost immediately by the intimidating woman.
"Okay, sure, whatever. What about Bethany's boy? An artist?"
"Will," El cut in. No way was she letting Lace get in his face with her attitude. "He's my stepbrother. He's gay."
"Ugh, that's fair…"
It was silent as all four women cut the flowers and assembled the bouquets. Fake baby's breath with fake greenery and fake yellow lilies. Pretty. Pretty fake. A sharp wire from a stem poked into El's thumb and she winced as it tore her skin. She sucked in a breath and shoved the injured finger into her mouth, wincing at the coppery taste.
"What about the best man? Didn't you say he was really tall?" Lace's eyes were glowing and she was smirking. "You know what they say about tall guys."
El felt hot, white fire blaze up her back and neck. Oh fuck no. That was not going to happen. Her thumb was still in her mouth and before she could say anything she would regret, Max spoke up.
"Nope. Don't even go there," she shook her head adamantly, her red hair flying, eyes fixed on the bigger bridesmaid. "That's girl code. He's off limits."
"Awww, come on. Did you date him?"
"No, but El did. For a really long time… so he's off-limits. Don't even think about it."
"El would be fine with it, right?" Lace's intense, smokey gaze landed on El and she visibly stiffened. "Just one night. I could even beat him up a little if you want me to, most guys I've been with seem to like it. I'm a rough rider."
El felt her entire face catch fire, her mouth gaping as she tried to words to express just how much she was against that idea. The image was too vivid, her own rough encounter making it easy to picture exactly what Lace would be like with Mike.
The outrage broke and she lifted her lip into a snarl. "If you even—"
"Lace!" Max's voice cut through the air. "I'm serious. I'll shit on your entire life if you fuck with Mike. Pick someone else, Lucas has some second cousins I don't really know if you're that desperate. Don't be that bitch."
There was a stony silence and El watched as Lace stared at Max, assessing how serious she was before shrugging and throwing a sharp glance at El. It felt like a slap in the face. Like it was such a terrible thing to not be a bitch and sleep with someone's ex. El disliked her more and more by the minute.
"Sure. Whatever. I'll take the curly one then, I just want to get laid this weekend," she seemed to brush the confrontation off and smiled almost lewdly. "All the love in the air and bullshit… gotta get that scratch itched somehow."
"Gross."
After that Bethany had brought up the reception and Max had eagerly latched onto the new topic, explaining that they'd rented a tent to be set up a little further up the beach right after the wedding. The ceremony was at sunset, so it really would be a huge party in a lit up tent all night long.
All El could think about was Lace getting her black painted fingernails into Mike, leaning on him and laughing. It made her see red and she had to take a deep breath, staying silent as she fumed at the thought. By all means, he could take Lace up if she offered. There was no real reason to refuse. It's not like Mike had made some promise to her, to not sleep with anyone else. But the mere thought of it made her want to scream and stomp and throw up.
El silently swore that it wasn't going to happen.
He wasn't hers anymore, she knew that, but he was more hers than anyone else's.
"El, seriously? Is space really that interesting?"
A hand was being waved in front of her face and she jolted, looking up from her plate of spaghetti with an expression of surprise, eyes wide. Everyone was looking at her and she swallowed, throat dry.
"What? Sorry." She shrunk a bit, feeling awkward. "I… was just thinking."
Everyone's glasses had been refilled a few times with the bottles of wine that scattered the table, hers included, and it was getting harder to concentrate. Something brushed her foot, and she moved it back.
"We were talking about that time we went swimming in the quarry?" Will kindly filled her in, before turning back to the group. Brow furrowed in thought, he asked, "When was that—"
"Summer before junior year," she said quickly, knowing the exact day in question.
It was a hard memory to forget. Technically the quarry was too dangerous for swimming, but they'd snuck down anyways. Except for El. The deep water sent shivers of fear all over her, memories of being submerged in the dark too much to handle.
Mike had sat with her in the gravely shallows for most of the day, splashing with her playfully and making her feel better about not wanting to go in. She remembered watching them all play Chicken, secretly giving Max a psychic shove off of Lucas's shoulders so Will and Mike would be triumphant.
It had been a good day made better when Mike had walked her back to the cabin. Finding it abandoned they'd used the opportunity to shower together. They were still virgins, just turned sixteen, and it had been the first time they'd really seen each other naked, all the way. She could still remember the look of awe in Mike's eyes as he traced the shape of her under the spray of water, hands reverent and gentle as he leaned down to kiss her. They'd made out for a bit and then cuddled on the couch, watching soap operas until Hopper came home. It was a day she had somewhat forgotten, suddenly alive in her mind as she remembered feeling so safe and happy in her boyfriend's arms.
She shoved another huge forkful of spaghetti into her mouth, frowning irritatedly. Was she allowed to let that memory make her happy? She'd avoided thinking about memories like that one, intimate and private, for so long so she could move on from him, but now… Fuck. Everything was too confusing.
Looking up, she noticed Mike watching her slyly, smirking amusedly as she struggled to chew her massive bite of food, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk. She tried to glower at him, and it must have been a comical sight, because his eyes widened and then he snorted, inhaling a piece of spaghetti and immediately choking. Everyone stopped talking, watching with wide eyes as he began to violently cough, hacking and retching, eyes watering. Dustin began to pound on his back and Mike tried to shove him away, still coughing.
It took a few minutes before he could speak, wheezing lightly, his face red. El was staring in shock, like everyone else, and then he shrugged, wiping his watering eyes.
"S-Sorry. I choked."
"I don't think anyone noticed," Lucas said dryly, quickly focusing on something else. "Anyways, I still think summer after senior year was best. It's too bad that road trip fell through though, Cedar Point would have been so fun."
El couldn't help but let her gaze flit over to Mike while she tried to pay attention to the conversation taking place, feeling concerned as he took a long drink of water, still seeming flustered. He looked up from his glass of water and this time when their eyes met she felt that fiery throb low in her body wake up again. How did he manage to look so handsome after choking on food?
He lowered his water glass without breaking eye contact and she shivered, zoning out of whatever conversation was happening. Something bumped her foot and she realized it was his, nestling into her arch like some sort of silent reassurance. She quickly glanced around, sure that someone would notice, would see, but no one even glanced their way.
Hmm.
She let her foot slide against his, moving upwards. It was bare, her sandals at the door, and she teased it up the side of his calf, watching from the side of her eyes as his shoulders tensed. She rubbed it against the inside of his knee and he clenched his jaw, staring down at his plate. It was cruel, maybe, but he started it, and something about getting him off by playing footsie was really… hot. El couldn't remember ever having this much affect over him. First in the bathroom and now this? She'd teased him before, but he'd always been so… careful; so in control. It seemed that now he had no way to resist.
It was fucking amazing.
She let her foot drift up, to his thighs, setting it on his chair between his legs and letting it rest there. His hands were clenched and he looked like he was struggling, trying not to breathe heavily as he glanced up to her and then back down.
"El, Mike."
They both snapped to attention and El froze, heart thudding against her ribcage in sudden fear. They were so busted.
Dustin was staring at them with a discerning gaze, eyes full of the burning curiosity that had always guided him. El tried to compose herself, offering a pinched smile. Her foot was still crammed between Mike's legs and she could feel something hard pressing against her toes. She didn't dare look at him, keeping her fixated eyes on Dustin.
"Yeah?" Her voice sounded strained.
"So like… is it really not awkward for you guys at all?"
"Dustin!" Max exclaimed, immediately outraged. "Really?!"
He put his hands up in defense, looking around the table. "What? Everybody's been thinking it, don't hate me because I'm not afraid to ask!"
"It's fine," Mike barked abruptly and they all stopped to look at him. His face was red and he looked… flustered. El knew it wasn't because of the question. "I mean, we're fine. We talked it out."
"Yeah. We're chill. It's all good," El quickly added, her vernacular unusually… slangy. Nobody noticed, their minds lubricated enough by the wine and drinks to let it slide.
Dustin looked between the two of them, unconvinced, and Lucas facepalmed, shaking his head in disbelief at their curly-haired friend's actions. A squabble quickly broke out between the two and Max jumped in to defend Lucas, but El didn't really hear what they were saying, too busy trying to slowly pull her foot away from Mike's crotch. His hand suddenly caught her ankle, keeping her from pulling away. She stifled a gasp as he shoved it closer to him, the act tugging her forward in her chair by half an inch, an act of obvious dominance. He stared at her, eyes hungry and full of the desperate intensity she knew so well.
It was obvious that the only thing keeping him from grabbing her and throwing her onto the table was the presence of their four friends. She could almost see it in his face, the fantasy that he was imagining for them. Goosebumps lifted on her skin.
She clenched her thighs and tried to stifle the gasp that left her throat, quickly disguising it as a cough and then jerking her foot back away from his grip. Curling it under her body, she pressed it between her legs, trying to calm herself.
She spent the rest of the dinner avoiding his intense gaze, knowing that all it would take is one of his heated looks to start a fire that would spark into her and start something she didn't want to try and handle. Fuck, how did he do that? Earlier she'd had the control and suddenly he was making her come undone with just his stare. She wanted that advantage back.
Determined to regain control of her rebellious body, she tuned to back in to the conversation. Will was telling a story about he and Mike biking through Central Park and running into a film crew shooting a movie. So he still biked. That would explain why his legs had gone from scrawny to nicely toned. She wanted to pretend like she hadn't noticed how good his butt looked, but she definitely had that morning as he'd pulled on his pants. God, how was he so attractive? It wasn't fair.
El frowned as she realized she had been sidetracked with thoughts of him. The fact that he was now rubbing his foot against her inner ankle wasn't making things any easier.
Luckily, Max stood at that moment, starting to clear away everyone's now empty plates. Seizing the opportunity, El popped up, insisting that she would take care of dishes tonight, considering it an early wedding gift. Max was the bride after all, and El could use the distraction.
Everyone else gathered in the living room on the couches. She could hear them talking and laughing as she scrubbed the red sauce from the plates and poured soap into the sink so the pans could soak. She was so engrossed in scrubbing she didn't hear him come into the kitchen.
A pair of large hands grabbed her hips, pulling her back against a broader chest. She could feel something hard pressing against her ass and gasped as his body pinned her against the counter. She'd known exactly who it was the moment he'd touched her. A tiny, frustratingly needy-sounding, whine escaped her throat as his hand wandered up, squeezing her breasts, and he grinded against her, clearly struggling to keep himself from bending her over the counter and taking her right there. God, why was she suddenly entertaining the idea of letting him?
"Mike," she gasped, feeling out of breath. "Anyone could walk in."
"I had to feel you. After sitting at the table… fuck, El, I need you now."
"L-Later. We c-can't—" she chided, all the while writhing against him. "Mike, we can't." It was gasp as he thrusted against her.
Her panties were totally soaked and she was glad for the heavy denim of her overall dress that hid her rock hard nipples. She was so close to giving in. How did he turn her into this so easily? It could be a quickie, all he had to do was unzip his pants and push her underwear to the side and she would finally be full of his big, hot—
"Mike!"
They jumped apart, suds flying, and the plate she'd been gripping onto slipped from her hand, hitting the ground with a crash. It cracked into white shards and El gasped, looking up as Max pushed through the swinging door.
"I'm s-sorry, it slipped—" she tried to explain, shaking her head. She had let herself get distracted and look what happened. Why was she so clumsy? "I-I'll buy you a new one," she told her friend, feeling as shattered as the plate, dropping to her knees to start trying to clean up the mess.
"Jeez, El," Max looked surprised. "It's fine, it's just a plate."
"No, no, I wasn't paying attention and l-look what I did," she looked up at them, feeling tears forming, shaking her head. "You can't fix it. It's… it's broken."
"El, hey." Max tried to get her attention but she was focused on gathering the fragments of white porcelain, ignoring the way the chips dug into her fingers. She was almost frantic, feeling panic well up, her face hot. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "El!"
She looked up, wiping her nose. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mike, watching silently from behind the open refrigerator door. That's what distraction lead to. Shattered. Broken. Unfixable. It was about more than the plate. How could she be so stupid?
Max was kneeling in front of her, helping her to gather the last few pieces, talking calmly and it took El a second to zone back in and listen to what she was saying.
"—don't beat yourself up. I know sometimes it's easier to be mad yourself but it's okay. We don't get mad because you make mistakes." Max's ice-blue gaze met El's. "Okay?"
It was a familiar mantra, one she'd heard from all her friends and family. One of the hardest things she'd struggled with after her return had been the fear of disappointing them. No, they weren't Papa and she wasn't imprisoned in a cold room of isolation when she messed up, but the intense fear that came with letting down someone she loved or respected was sometimes too much to bear. A bad grade, a burnt lasagna, a dropped tray of food. All of it had sent her into spirals of panic, and just a few weeks ago she'd ended up sitting on a case of frozen hot dogs in the freezer at the diner and crying into her hands after spilling coffee on one of her regulars. The kind man hadn't even been mad.
And now she had let Mike take over everything, to the point where she couldn't even wash dishes without breaking something. Why was she so weak and stupid?
But Max's blue eyes were a shock to her system and she took a deep breath, nodding slowly, remembering who she was with. Right. Max wasn't upset. It was just a plate. It was okay. They finished grabbing the last few pieces of porcelain and threw it into the the trash, Max's hand reaching for El's and giving it a quick squeeze. A soft touch. El sighed.
The redhead turned to face Mike, who was still quietly observing as though shocked, a look of annoyed disbelief on her face.
"Where's the beers, Wheeler?" Max raised an eyebrow. "We've been waiting so long my impatient lover sent me to find out what the hold up was? Were you helping with the dishes or something?"
Mike stuck his head into the fridge, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know she was oddly close to the truth and he seemed to want to keep it that way.
"Chill out. I was trying to decide between Bud Light and… what is this stuff? Backswing?" He stuck his head over the door, grinning nonchalantly, as if watching his ex-girlfriend freak out over breaking a plate was totally normal.
"It's a local brewery. Fancy shit. Lucas likes it. Just grab a few of both, we're waiting."
"Be there in a minute."
With a final reassuring look at her maid of honor, Max left and he stood back up, his arousal glaringly obvious now that it was no longer shielded by the refrigerator. El suddenly felt the urge to roll her eyes, breathing out the last bits of her panic and letting them fade away, focusing on what was in front of her. And god, this was getting ridiculous. Could he not control himself for another half hour? She huffed, refusing to look at him and going back to dishes instead.
She felt his breath on the back of her neck, the ghost of his hand on her hip and she tensed. No. Not this time. She wouldn't mess up again.
"Hey, are you—"
The words rushed from her lips because she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it for much longer, voice pleading, "Don't, Mike. You're just making it worse."
It was quiet for a moment and she inhaled feeling him press closer. Then his arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed lightly, a soft kiss pressed to the back of her head. She closed her eyes and and felt herself sink into it, almost shivering happily, some sort of easy certainty flooding through her. He always made it so easy to give in, whether to fiery passion or soft gentleness.
"Sorry," he murmured softly against her ear, arms tightening for a heartbeat. "I'll stop."
And then he was gone and she was left feeling even more on edge. The passion and need to taste and touch she could almost handle, when it was just bodies and need and lust. His sweet nature was a far more dangerous weapon against her guarded heart. It would be too easy to let herself imagine that they could have what they'd had again, but she knew it was impossible. She was going home at the end of the week, and he was going back to New York. Getting attached would just be asking for more heartache.
But...
The idea of stopping whatever was going on between them was extremely unappealing. Her body was keyed up for him, and the idea of not finding release made no sense to her wine-drenched mind. And it wasn't like he was unwilling...
It can just be physical, she thought hopefully, ignoring her warning bells that were ringing frantically in her mind. The far more reasonable side of her brain, that was very foggy and muddled at that moment, was telling her that she'd never been able to keep her emotions out of the physical aspect of their relationship.
She wouldn't give in, she determined.
She finished the dishes, feeling that tight knot of anxiety in her stomach, and reluctantly wandered out to the living room. Her friends were sitting slouched across the couches, holding beers and laughing. The sight warmed her heart and she let her eyes fall on the only open spot on the couch. Next to Mike. She hesitated, but rationalized that it would draw more attention to the two of them if she made a point to not sit next him after they both proclaimed that it was fine.
Taking a breath, she steeled herself and casually walked over and fell onto the couch cushion. His clothed leg pressed against her half bare one, there wasn't a ton of room, but she pointedly didn't allow herself notice, instead smiling at Lucas, who was talking about his job.
"Y'know, if you ever get tired of New York, you could move out here, Mike. I'm sure my company would hire you in an instant, you're one of the best programmers I know," Lucas turned his attention to his tall friend.
Mike shrugged, leaning back against the couch cozily, his arm going up on the back, almost around her shoulders. "I like New York too much, sorry. You need to come and visit us. Like the ocean is nice but… I dunno, something about the big city and all the people moving and living all the time… how it never sleeps." His eyes were glowing, El noticed, and something in her twisted tighter. "It's crazy how I can wake up at three in the morning and still be able to go out and get coffee and see people walking around. So different from Hawkins…" he sighed happily. "It just feels more like home now than Indiana ever has."
El tried to ignore the sick feeling that had been rising in her stomach during Mike's description of New York. She'd been kidding herself before to even think that she could belong with him again. He had a new home and it wasn't anywhere near her. The place he would always choose over her.
Biting her lip she blinked back tears, scooting away from the curve of his arm that brushed her shoulder. Everything felt wrong and the intense fire that had been waiting for him fell apart as she realized how stupid she had been. Feeling anything would only lead to the same place it had before and suddenly she was standing, wanting to get away from this suddenly suffocating apartment.
It was quiet as her friends gazed up at her, matching faces of confusion and concern staring at her. She cleared her throat.
"I, um, I'm not feeling great. Could someone give me a ride back?" Her hand rested on her stomach, where the painful knot of sick anxiety was strangling her. "It's my stomach."
"I could—" Mike started to offer but was cut off by Will.
"I can, I kind of wanted to head back anyways and catch the sunset on the water. Jonathan said I had to get some pictures," he explained as he stood, setting his water glass on the coffee table. "You guys need to sober up a bit more anyways."
She didn't notice the forlorn look of worry on Mike's face behind her, quickly gathering her things and saying bye to Max. Her ginger friend gave her an awkward sitting hug, eyes full of concern. Before she pulled away, she mumbled loosely to her, "You alright?" clearly remembering the episode earlier in the kitchen.
"I'll be fine. Just need to get some sleep," El promised, attempting a pained smile.
She didn't give the redhead a chance to argue, quickly slipping away and heading towards the door without acknowledging Mike or Dustin, just needing to get away and try to collect herself again. The ocean had been so nice last night, cool on her feet, but she'd been warned not to be at the beach alone at night, deciding maybe another cold shower would work. The bruises on her hips and the feel of his heavy hands made her shiver and clench her thighs, taking a deep breath as she followed Will out to the rental car. It was blessedly silent for a few minutes as they got in and drove.
"So…" Will's voice broke her silent reverie. "Do you want to keep pretending there isn't something going on between you and Mike or…?"
"What?" Her head snapped to look at her stepbrother.
"I mean, I don't know if anyone else noticed, but I saw the way you two kept looking at each other…" He shrugged as he drove, casually avoiding eye contact. "I can't tell if it's good or bad but it's something."
El felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her. She had lied to Max and Lucas and Mike and everyone in her life to try and keep the truth hidden away, but having to lie to Will right then felt impossible, and she slumped in her seat. Maybe she didn't have to tell him everything…
"I don't know either, Will," she quavered, on the verge of crying again. "I didn't know he still cared about me. I was sure he'd moved on. But he hasn't, he told me last night, and now… I don't know what to feel."
"He tried," replied Will quietly. "To move on, I mean. I know that. He thought you didn't… want him at all. That you didn't come with him because you didn't love him anymore." He paused for a moment, and El could see that he was choosing his words carefully. "He was really messed up for a while. I guess he never got over you."
El was warring between feeling angry and guilty. He was the one who left, but she'd pushed him away… She didn't notice how Will was watching her with a calculating gaze from the driver's seat, face lit up red from the glow of the stoplight. "What am I supposed to do now? It's not like… I mean, we're all leaving after the wedding. I won't see him again… there's no point, Will." The words felt broken, cracking from her lips like the shards of plate on the floor. "It's just going to hurt again."
Will was quiet, the pain in her voice sobering him. He knew her the best now, better than even Mike. They had spent countless nights in each other's rooms as kids, talking about nightmares and the future and the fear that was always there, things they still talked about now when he would come home visit, falling asleep together on the couch. He was her family and she'd become the sister he hadn't known he needed. But even he was at a loss.
"Just… maybe just take it day by day. You could always talk to him about it—"
"No," she shook her head, adamant. "I can't. He'll just say what he said last time. I can't hear that again. Didn't you hear him talking about New York? About home?"
"Yeah…"
"He won't leave. I can't ask him to."
There was a pause as Will pulled into the parking lot of the motel, easing into a spot and then sighing heavily as he parked the car. He glanced at her from the side of his eye, bracing himself as if he knew what he was about to say wouldn't go over well. El felt herself tense.
"What if you moved out—"
"Stop. Don't do that," she shook her head. "You know I can't."
"I know you won't," he rebutted, but not unkindly.
She crossed her arms stubbornly, looking away and shoving her purse farther onto her shoulder, huffing, "There's no point talking about this." Her hand reached for the handle and she started to push out of the vehicle. "It's not possible."
El didn't give him a chance to reply as she shut the door heavily, marching straight to her room, feeling irritated. Once behind the closed door, she felt the keen spike of regret at treating her brother so shittily. She knew he always meant well, but at the same time she was annoyed that he would even bring it up, as if she hadn't thought about it and agonized over that very idea for the past two years. No, that wasn't an option. It just wasn't.
She fumbled the giant plastic seahorse out of her purse and shoved the key into the lock, shoving the door open and letting it slam shut behind her. The room was dark and she sighed, turning on a single lamp next to her bed and then slumping onto it. A shower didn't sound good anymore, nothing sounded good. Other than maybe crawling under her covers and never coming out again… that sounded perfect.
The intrusive thoughts came back, the anxiety and paranoia, but were interrupted with memories of their earlier teasing, his hands on her body, his lips against her ear... She was still feeling the aftershocks of the desire, unable to shake the feeling off. That morning had reminded her of what she'd had and now she didn't want to let it go again. Not when he was a single wall away.
Her gaze shifted to the alarm clock, glancing at the time. Would he still come to her room? She had invited him, to "talk". But maybe he would take her pulling away in the kitchen and her sudden departure as signs she didn't want to see him. And she didn't… but she did.
Getting lost in him was so easy. So instinctual and right. Like she was made to be close to him, to complete him and be a part of him. It was how they'd been for so long and not even the past two years could sever it. The connection had always been there, throbbing beneath scar tissue. She had never truly let him go.
Past memories flooded in, all of the ones she'd avoided thinking of. The trip to the lake their senior year, the summer after his first year at MIT, the numerous times he'd snuck through her window over the years. Cuddling, laughing, fighting, kissing, crying, teasing, fucking… her mind was a whirl of the past.
It felt like she'd only been sitting there for a few minutes, lost in her mind, but there was a knock, a knock she recognized. Her eyes flicked back to the alarm clock. Almost an hour had passed.
"El?"
The voice needed no introduction and she sighed heavily, feeling absolutely torn. The wiser part of her knew she should tell him to go away, to protect her aching heart, and end whatever it was that kept pulling her back to him. Kill it off before it was too late, before she let herself fall.
"El, hey. Can… can we talk? Please." A pause. "You said we could earlier, I just…" The voice trailed off and she heard a thump and a sigh, imagining him letting his forehead fall forward against the door as he tried to find words.
If he wanted to talk about what happened earlier in the bathroom and the kitchen… she didn't see a point. There wasn't anything to explain. Was it not enough for him that she was completely at his will when he touched her? Did he really need to hear her say it, admit out loud that she had no way to to resist him?
And if he wanted to talk about something else, about what they "were" or what they had been, she didn't want to try and explain that either. The whole point was to not talk to just feel… could he not understand that?
God, she wasn't sure if she would be able to handle looking at him again. Just the thought of him made her thighs clench, the ghost of his breath against her throat, his heat pressed to hers.
Opening the door would only lead to one place.
"I just want to make sure you're okay. I know I… I fucked up in the kitchen." He hadn't. She wanted him to know that. It wasn't his fault, really. "Please, El, just for a second, I need to see you."
His voice was muffled but she could hear the pleading tone, the sound already working against her resolve. Fuck it. They only had this week, that was it. Was it wrong to take what she could get before they left again? To take what he offered, to let him be sweet to her, to taste and touch and feel him again, just for a little longer?
It could be enough. It could maybe get her through the rest of her life without him. It would have to.
Her feet were moving and her hand was on the door knob, the heat from earlier returning with every step, and pooling between her legs. Remembering his hands on her hips, his breath in her ear, his body grinding against her as she panted and whined. Yes, she wanted him. At least one more time.
The door opened and she reached, taking him by the shirt and hauling him inside before he could say anything, pushing the door shut behind him. He stared down at her in surprise, concern and want at war in his dark brown eyes. He blinked and licked his lips, as if trying to clear his desire. When he spoke it was raspy and low.
"El, maybe we should just—"
But she shook her head, putting a finger over his lips and watching him swallow at the feel of her touch. She didn't want to talk and decided to make it impossible. Reaching up for the buckles on her overall dress, she unsnapped them, letting the denim fall off of her body as his eyebrows raised in surprise, the desire flooding his eyes again as she stood before him.
Her arms reached and then her fingers were in his hair, pulling him down so their mouths could meet. At her touch relief flooded his expression and he grabbed at her, gathering her close, his hands trying to hold every part of her to him as he dove into her, tongue opening her as she inched them backwards, leading him to her bed. Whatever he'd wanted to say was swallowed as the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress.
They broke apart and she shoved him, pushing hard enough that he fell backwards onto the open sheets, still partially unmade. "El," he gasped, looking up at her, dazed and uncertain but not unwilling. She felt herself smirking, knowing that she had the control back, that he was entirely under her spell, his eyes widening as she raised an eyebrow.
"Mike."
She answered the question he'd spoken into her name in the same way he had, her voice low as she looked down at him, sprawled before her. Without hesitating—without thinking—she gave in to the urge, falling on top of him and crawling up to his meet his lips as his hands grabbed her waist, letting everything else in the world that wasn't him fade away.
AN: They're not very good at keeping their hands off of each other. But I suppose that's how it goes when you love someone, huh? I hope El can figure that out.
I think this story is more angsty in my head but at the same time it's not even halfway done. Send me Eliza both some good vibes, please, I know we could both use it. I hope to see you all sooner than later. Maybe less than a month next time. Let's hope this summer warmth and sunshine motivates me.
Please leave me a review! I hate to beg but I just love hearing from you all and it always makes me smile to see your thoughts and/or frustrations/theories. Some of you are damn close to the truth, but alas, no spoilers!
Thank you all for sticking through. I hope I can make you all happy.
~Wynn