Her limbs moved of their own accord as she killed the engine and got out of the car, shoes crunching across the snow-covered lawn.

Fueled by adrenaline, Max climbed onto the arm of a large, wooden snowman decoration and hoisted herself onto the low side roof as if it were nothing. She crawled over the slippery shingles to the illuminated window, rapping against the glass softly with the back of her knuckles.

She didn't know for sure, but she had some unexplainable feeling that it was his window. If she was wrong this was going to be really freaking awkward.

After a few seconds, the curtain was torn aside and Mike's bemused face appeared. His eyes widened when he realized it was her and he scrambled to slide the pane open, holding out his hands to help her in.

"What the fuck, Max?" he hissed. "Get in here." Once she was on her feet and standing in front of him he looked her over worriedly. "Jesus, you're shaking." He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms.

After a few disconcerted seconds, Max realized he was right. She didn't even feel cold, but she looked down at herself and found she was just wearing her thin long-sleeved shirt and ratty, old pajama shorts; bare feet jammed into her slip-on Vans, exposed skin mottled bright red from the cold.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I– I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go. Neil, he–" She swallowed hard at the images flashing through her mind, willing the tears burning the backs of her eyes to stay put.

Mike's frown deepened as he held her at arm's length, his eyes roaming over her face and body. "Your stepdad? Did he hurt you?"

Max shook her head, eyes darting around the dimly lit space. She'd never been in his bedroom before. It looked just as dorky as she'd imagined. Not that she spent a lot of time picturing Mike's room…

Fuck, her body felt like it was practically vibrating with excess energy. Energy that desperately needed an outlet.

"Do you need some water or–"

Her lips were on his before he could finish his sentence. She stood on her toes, hands framing his face as she pressed her body against him, stealing his warmth.

"Mm– Max… are you sure you wanna… do this right now?" he managed to gasp between her demanding kisses.

She held his head in place, not allowing him to pull too far away from her. "Yes. I need this," she stated unflinchingly. And then a quieter, "Please, Mike."

As she'd learned early on in their arrangement, when it came to Mike, she was not above begging.

Seconds crawled by while his eyes flickered back and forth between hers, wary of her apparent distress. She gave him her most pleading look, hoping he'd see how badly she wanted this. It must have worked because he tentatively resumed the kiss, softer than before, and began walking them backwards until the backs of her knees hit the bed. They hadn't actually done it on a bed yet, Max realized.

She kept expecting him to be urgent and aggressive like they usually were but instead, Mike undressed her slowly, one article of clothing at a time, painfully gentle and almost reverent.

First her shirt, her arms lifted overhead to assist him, then her shorts, kicked off along with her shoes once he dragged them down her legs. She kept her gaze centred on his chest the entire time, not sure she was ready for what she would see when she met his eyes.

She had to suppress a shiver when he hooked a finger under her bra strap and dragged it off her shoulder, repeating the action on the other side before reaching around to unhook the clasp, his fingers leaving a blazing hot trail wherever they touched. Gently, he tugged at the centre of the bra until it slid down her arms and fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her grey cotton panties.

He took a step back then, his eyes drinking her in with smouldering intensity.

For the first time since they'd started doing this, Max felt shy in his presence, but she forced herself to keep her arms at her sides, fighting the urge to cover up and instead focused her attention on him.

He was already in just a t-shirt and plaid boxers, so she skimmed her hands up and down the back of his shirt and then slipped them under so she could drag her nails over the skin of his back. He inhaled sharply as goosebumps appeared in the wake of her touch. Moving slowly, she grabbed the bottom hem of the shirt and lifted it up and over his head.

When they were both down to just their underwear, Mike stepped closer, flattening his palm against her lower back as he kissed her again, easing her down onto the mattress.

He was treating her like she was fragile, like she was made of glass, and Max wasn't sure if she loved it or hated it.

Her first instinct was to regain control—bite at his neck and flip them over and turn this into something more familiar—but she was tired, not physically but emotionally, and what she really wanted was to just let go and allow him to control the pace.

Her arms circled around his neck as he hovered over her, sucking gently at her upper lip and then her lower one. She left one hand knotted in his hair and drew the other one down his face, fingertips to his cheek, thumb to the corner of his mouth where it touched hers.

The rigid line of his erection pressed against her stomach and he groaned into her mouth when she raised her hips to meet it. He broke away and ducked down to circle his tongue around her nipples, making her arch up into his warm, talented lips.

But when he started mouthing his way down her torso Max tightened her grip on his hair and tugged him back up to her face. "Just fuck me."

Mike frowned. "But you're not–"

"Do it."

He gave her that searching look again but nodded after a second, standing and walking over to his dresser before stepping out of his boxers. He produced a strip of condoms from the top drawer and tore one off. While he rolled it on, Max shimmied out of her panties.

When he was crawling back over her she realized this was the first time they'd ever been fully undressed with each other.

He looked good, she thought as her legs automatically opened to make room for him, his body long and pale and lean in the soft light of his desk lamp. Usually, they were so rushed, clothing and underwear shoved aside just enough, in case they needed to stop at a moment's notice.

The hesitant brush of his cock at her entrance brought her back to the present.

She wove her fingers through the long hair at the back of his head again, gripping hard. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," he whispered, his minty breath ghosting over her lips as he began to lower his hips.

The rest of the world ceased to exist as she squeezed her eyes shut, hissing at the burn as he stretched her out around him. He felt even bigger than usual inside her. She wasn't quite wet enough, so it hurt a little, but that was what Max wanted.

She needed to feel it, all of it.

Then she realized he'd stopped. She cracked her eyelids open to find Mike studying her, his brow furrowed in concern, so she brushed his hair back from his eyes and kissed him again to let him know it was okay. Her tongue traced the roof of his mouth, fingertips skating over his spine and the sharp, jutting angle of his shoulder blades as he braced himself over her, muscles trembling from the effort of keeping himself still.

Max tilted her hips up, bringing her knees to her torso and forcing him deeper, wrenching a low groan from his chest. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, panting. Once he was fully seated inside of her she squirmed beneath him to encourage him to move. As his length dragged in and out of her, pain gradually gave way to a now-familiar pleasure.

Only… it was more than just two bodies using each other for pleasure.

This time there was no biting or hair pulling, no dirty talk or scathing remarks, none of the usual power struggle—just soft touches, heavy breathing, and the quiet, staccato creaking of his bed frame.

After a minute she opened her eyes, startled to find him already looking at her. Usually, it was her on top, on the sofa or in his car; or he was behind her while they were standing up, and she could let her eyelids fall closed and focus on her building climax.

But now he was right there above her, pinning her down with his dark brown eyes as if he were peering down into her soul. Max swore her heart stopped beating for several seconds while his ardent gaze sent a thrill throughout her entire body.

Mike leaned in to kiss her again—not her mouth, but her cheek, her temple, her jaw. His breath was hot and shaky, and he kept fucking her with that gentle, maddening rhythm, like he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible.

It was nothing short of erotic, and it left Max feeling vulnerable and strange and far too aware of her own heartbeat—naked in more ways than one. They'd been fucking for weeks now but this was something else entirely.

This felt different. Significant.

It was so jarring that she almost asked him to stop and turn her around, but then he reangled his hips and drove into her in a way that made her forget her own name, nearly biting through her own lip to keep herself quiet.

By now her body had caught up to his and he was gliding in and out of her without resistance. Every thrust was hitting that spot that made a coil begin to tighten deep in her pelvis, and she was almost appalled by the needy whimpers coming out of her throat each time that it did. How was it possible that it was always this good with him?

A hand left his back and reached up above her head, curling around one of the metal slats of the headboard to steady herself.

Her legs tightened around his waist and he lowered himself down until he was pressing her into the mattress, but instead of feeling suffocated by his weight, Max found it comforting. Grounding. And it allowed him to grind against her clit with every snap of his hips, forcing the tension in her core to ratchet up even higher.

Mike was panting hard in her ear, nonsense swearing mostly, but her name was in there too. Each time he said it it sent a hot jolt straight up her spine, a mad rush of power that swirled around her already clouded head.

It was overwhelming. It was awful. It was the best thing she'd ever experienced.

A few more long, deep strokes were all it took to shatter her to pieces. Her body curled around his—arms and legs tightening, her head lifting up so she could sink her teeth into the place where his neck met his shoulder. Her breath left her in great shuddering gasps as ecstasy flowed through her like lava, carrying her far, far away from Hawkins and all the chaos that awaited her at home, rendering her mind a beautifully blank slate.

Distantly, she was aware of Mike reaching his peak as well. Max knew his tells by now—the low, drawn-out moan reverberating up from his chest, the tensing of his stomach muscles, the stuttering of his hips as he lost himself in pleasure.

He stilled inside her and dropped his forehead next to her on the pillow, breathing shallowly.

They lay there, interlocked and intertwined as they came back to themselves. She didn't want to let him go, but after a minute he pulled out and rolled off of her with a sigh. Max squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to prolong the aftershocks of the orgasm still pulsing faintly between them.

While Mike stood to get rid of the condom and put his boxers back on, she lifted her head to glance out the window. It had started snowing—fat, white flakes swirling against the midnight sky. The thought of going back out there when she was so warm and comfortable in this bed was majorly unappealing.

"Can I stay?" The question left her mouth before her brain had time to realize that it was pathetic and clingy and completely crossing the line of this casual hookup thing.

She heard him gulp from across the room. "Um, yeah. Sure. I'm just gonna… bathroom."

The door closed softly behind him and Max glanced at where her clothes lay crumpled on the floor and then down at her naked body. Mike had been wearing boxers and a t-shirt when she'd come in, so that was probably what he slept in. She decided she would do the same.

Once she'd gotten back into her underwear and long-sleeved shirt, she burrowed under the plaid comforter. She rolled over to face the wall just before he reentered the room to avoid seeing the pitying look that was surely on his face.

The mattress shifted as he climbed in and leaned over to turn off his bedside lamp, casting them into darkness. She could tell he was lying stiffly behind her, clearly unsure what he should do. There was only one pillow, so they were forced to lie weirdly close together, enough to feel the heat radiating off each other's bodies.

Sighing impatiently, Max reached back and grabbed his arm, pulling it around her waist. Less than five minutes ago he'd been balls deep inside her, no point in acting precious about it now.

Mike tensed, his hand hovering over her stomach, but she scooted back so they were pressed together and after a moment he relaxed, letting his arm wrap around her torso securely. It wasn't lost on either of them that it was the first time he'd touched her intimately that wasn't a precursor to sex.

It was nice—the feeling of his chest expanding against her back with each deep, even breath, the soft flannel sheets against her skin, the ambient hum of the furnace circulating warm air through the vents. Really nice.

And as she drifted off to sleep much more quickly than she normally did, Max found she could barely remember the events that had led her there in the first place.

When Max awoke she kept her eyes shut, drifting in that blissful space between sleep and consciousness for as long as she could.

She had been dreaming of a day she had spent at the beach with her parents when she was six years old. It was one of the rare memories she had of when they were actually getting along. After an afternoon of playing in the waves she had fallen asleep in between them on the towels, curled up on her side with sand on her feet and salt in her hair.

As she dozed off she could hear them whispering to each other, her father making flirtatious comments, her mother giggling and scolding him without any conviction. It was the last time Max would be able to call them a happy family.

It was a dream she had often, and it usually ended with her dad turning into a seagull and flying away before a shark with a moustache that looked suspiciously like Neil's dragged her mom into the ocean by its teeth, and Max would wake up in a cold sweat, panting and disoriented.

But this time it just dissolved away and left her with a pleasant feeling of contentment as she woke up. Even the bed felt much more comfortable than usual. There were no hard mattress springs digging into her sides or soft spots that put a kink in her spine.

Then she realized that it wasn't her lumpy pillow beneath her head. Instead, she was resting on the solid warmth of Mike's chest—the fabric of his shirt soft against her cheek, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath her ear. Her leg was slung over his hip, a hardness she was now well acquainted with digging into the inside of her thigh.

She really hoped she hadn't drooled on him in her sleep.

From the way he was breathing she could tell he was awake, and… playing with her hair? She could barely feel it but she was fairly certain that with the hand that was around her back, he was idly twirling the ends of her hair around his fingers.

The casual, affectionate touch made something panicky twist in her stomach that she didn't care to dwell on, so instead she allowed herself exactly five more seconds to appreciate how perfectly their bodies melded together before she forced her eyelids open, craning her neck back to see him already looking blearily down at her.

Behind her, she felt his hand twitch away, dropping the strand of hair he'd been fidgeting with. "Hi."

"Hey." She blinked up at him. God, he looked cute in the morning with his curls all dishevelled. Damn it.

From this close up she could see the barest shadow of dark stubble on his chin and upper lip. Not nearly enough to grow any kind of significant facial hair, but enough that he had to shave.

When did that happen? she wondered. They were certainly no longer the baby-faced kids they'd been two years ago when they had first met.

"Um, I think everyone's still asleep if you wanna sneak out through the front door instead of the window," he said softly.

As much as she wanted to put that morning wood to good use, he was right; she should get out of there before anyone woke up. Plus there was a slight soreness between her legs—a not unpleasant reminder of last night's activities.

Max forced herself to sit up, disentangling their limbs. "Mm, that's probably a good idea," she sighed as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

Absently, she wondered if she should feel weird about how not weird it felt waking up in his arms like that. It was as if alarm bells were going off in her head but they were relegated to the background, muted and unimportant.

He sat on the edge of his bed, dutifully looking away while she gathered her clothes and got dressed.

Embarrassment began to set in over the way she'd acted last night, showing up on his roof like a complete lunatic. Managing each other's erratic emotions was not part of their deal, but he had been quite sweet about it all. Part of her had been expecting him to tease her about it, but deep down she knew that wasn't Mike's style. Not when it really mattered.

She followed him to his bedroom door, nearly bumping into him when he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

He cleared his throat. "Hey, you know if um, if you ever want to talk about like, home stuff or– or anything, you can, right?"

A small grin spread over her face as warmth unfurled in her chest. "Okay."

They crept down the stairs without incident, and he took his old winter coat from the entryway closet for her to wear over her inadequate clothing. Max zipped it all the way up to her chin, trying to ignore the way his comforting scent clung to it. She had to stop herself from burying her nose inside and inhaling deeply like some kind of psycho.

Mike unlocked and opened the door, letting the pale blue light of dawn wash over them along with a frigid rush of air.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his gaze strangely soft as he looked her over. She balled her fists up inside the too-long sleeves, certain she looked ridiculous with her bare legs sticking out from under the bulky jacket.

"So… I guess I'll see you in the new year?" he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Max nodded. "Bye Wheeler."

Impulsively, she leaned up and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, lingering just long enough to hear his breath catch, before she turned and stepped over the threshold into the frosty winter morning.

She stuffed her hands into the deep pockets of the coat and hurried towards the car, hoping to god he hadn't noticed the blush spreading across her cheeks.

Author's Note: Don't you hate it when you accidentally have intense, eye-gazing missionary with your fuck buddy and end up with some very overwhelming, confusing feelings about it? Yeah, me too.

Also, this might be one of my favourite chapters I've written :)