Mike sighed as he stretched out horizontally on the basement sofa, crossing his feet and folding his hands over his stomach. He stared up at the exposed beams of the unfinished ceiling, the cobwebs stretched between them glinting in the soft light streaming in through the windows.

He should have been ecstatic. They'd saved the world again, everybody he cared about was safe…

But he couldn't stop thinking about Max.

He was haunted by that anguished scream she'd let out when the demodog pounced on her, the terror that had pierced his chest like an arrow when he'd thought she was about to fucking die right in front of him… that she would die without knowing how he felt about her.

Because one thing was clear now—he still had all sorts of feelings for her. They hadn't faded with time. If anything their time apart had just intensified them.

What happened between them after they'd killed the demodog had demonstrated that unequivocally.

He hadn't even been thinking, he'd just been acting on untamed, visceral desire and impulse—as if his mind hadn't been in control of his body. It had been a fucking neutron star collision. Mike didn't think he could have stopped even if he'd wanted to.

And he definitely hadn't wanted to.

In that moment nothing else had existed in the world except for Max, and nothing else had mattered except that she was alright, and that he'd just needed to be as close to her as physically possible.

The evidence was still all over his body in the form of bruises littering his neck and chest, and four angry, red parallel lines slashed across his back. They were slowly fading, and Mike wasn't sure if he felt relieved or disappointed about it.

His blood started heating up as images from that night played through his mind, but then he pictured the look they'd shared in Will's driveway, and the memory of it doused him with ice-cold water.

He'd been dying for her to look at him with any kind of emotion for weeks, but that look had obliterated him.

For once all of her carefully contained emotions were written all over her face. It only lasted a few seconds, and she'd tried to correct her mistake by turning away, but he'd seen it. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. Yearning.

And it was then that Mike realized that she'd been hiding those feelings all along. It had meant something to her after all. He was such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

Except he loved El… didn't he? They hadn't talked about anything official, used words like boyfriend and girlfriend, but wasn't it basically implied since the day she'd returned?

Which meant he'd… what? Cheated? It hadn't felt like cheating.

And if Mike was being honest with himself, the more time they spent together, the more he realized they didn't have all that much in common. She was still in the process of becoming a fully formed person. It almost felt wrong, to be with someone who didn't even know who they were yet.

But helping her, protecting her so she could rescue Will… it had been the first time in his life he'd ever felt important. That was a hard thing to let go of.

It used to feel as if she was the first thing in his life that was made just for him. But now he wasn't so sure. Now it kind of felt like he was playing a role. Was it possible he'd outgrown that initial infatuation?

Maybe if they were younger it would've been easier—if less time had passed and they could grow together. But he'd changed a lot in the past two years, and he wasn't the same little kid that happened upon her that night in the rain.

Or maybe they could have worked if he hadn't been with Max first. If he had no basis for comparison and didn't know what it was like to feel so deeply and effortlessly compatible with someone.

Groaning, he threw a forearm across his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to do?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of light footsteps descending the stairs. Mike let his head fall to the side, expecting to see his mother bringing down a load of laundry. Instead, he was met with the concerned face of his sister. He frowned. Nancy never came down to the basement.

"What's going on…?" he asked, swinging his legs around so he was sitting up.

She crossed her arms as she perched on the edge of the armchair. "What? A sister can't check in on her little brother?"

Mike made a skeptical face and she sighed. "Okay fine. I was just curious what you're going to do about Max."

He felt all the blood drain from his face as he let out a nervous laugh. "What? What are you– what are you talking about?"

Nancy eyed him reproachfully. "We share a wall, Mike."

Mike's mouth fell open in horror. Oh no. No no no no no.

"Don't worry, I mostly just heard you two talking," she quickly said upon seeing the look on his face. "But my Walkman did get a little more use those few months when it was… other… things."

"Oh my god." He cringed and dropped his burning cheeks into his hands, wishing Nancy had brought one of her guns down with her.

This was completely humiliating. Once his mortification subsided, he lifted his head, palms dragging down his face with a weary exhale.

"There's nothing to be 'done' about Max," he shrugged. "I mean, it's totally over."

"Are you sure?" Nancy raised a brow. "Something happened that night, didn't it? At the quarry?"

He nodded reluctantly, looking down at his clasped hands. "I'm such a piece of shit."

"Well, that makes two of us," Nancy sighed, sinking back into the chair and crossing her legs.

Mike listened, stunned, as she proceeded to tell him about reconnecting with Jonathan over the winter, how she'd never gotten over the guilt of Barb's death and the way her parents were still holding onto hope even after all these years.

They'd eventually managed to get a recording of Dr Owens acknowledging the coverup of her disappearance and taken a road trip to Illinois to see a journalist who could help get the story out.

"...and we drank a lot of vodka to celebrate and then there was only one bed–"

"Ugh, I don't wanna hear this, Nancy!" Mike groaned, clapping his hands over his ears. "Wait, January? But you were still with Steve."

"Kind of…" Now it was her turn to look down guiltily. "We were… very rocky at the time, and I said some things at a New Year's party…"

She shook her head and met his gaze, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "My point is, there's no fighting gravity. You can only lie to yourself for so long, and you're just hurting everyone involved in the process."

Mike sighed and dropped his head against the back of the couch. Nancy was right. There must be a reason he and Max kept circling each other, unable to let go—drawn into each other's orbits like binary stars.

After a few seconds, he heard Nancy stand and make her way back upstairs, leaving him to his troubled thoughts.

Maybe he should make a mental list comparing the two girls to help him make sense of things. Logic always prevailed.

He started with the negatives. Max was probably the most stubborn and frustrating person he had ever met. She had so many opinions. Infuriating opinions, which she had no problem debating for hours on end.

But that wasn't actually a negative, was it? It turned out he liked that about her; he liked it when they argued, the stupider and pettier the better.

Meanwhile, El had very few opinions. That wasn't her fault though, that blame lay squarely on the shoulders of the evil psychopaths at Hawkins Lab, so didn't he owe it to her to stick around? After everything they'd been through, after everything she'd done for them.

She protected them, she'd saved them more times than he could count now. She'd brought his best friend back.

And it wasn't as if El was some completely blank slate. She had so many amazing qualities. She was a force of nature. She was fearless and loyal and awe-inspiring, but there was also a softer side to her. A side that just wanted to be cared for.

For so much of his adolescence all Mike had wanted was to be that person for her. He'd been drawn to her innocence, to the way she so clearly saw the good and bad in the world and unflinchingly fought for what was right.

And when someone like her, a real-life superhero, decided that he was one of the few people in the world who made her feel safe, it felt like the best thing in the world.

Only maybe now he wanted more. Now he found himself wondering if he even actually liked her like that or if he just didn't want to lose her again.

He lay back down, interlacing his fingers behind his head as his thoughts drifted back to Max. Where El wore her heart on her sleeve, Max had walls up a mile high.

Mike understood why, though. And he'd felt so lucky when she'd lowered them enough to allow him a glimpse inside.

She showed tenderness in her own way, too. In the way she brushed his hair off his forehead when it fell into his eyes, her fingertips just barely grazing him; in the way she always made sure Will was included when he or Dustin and Lucas had been unintentionally dominating the conversation, in the way she stood up to bullies and to Billy and her stepfather.

Just like El she was fearless, reckless even, with her body—when she skateboarded, and got into fights, and lured that demodog away from him without any regard for her own wellbeing.

But her heart… he knew it was no small thing for her to put it on the line. And he'd been careless with it.

God, he'd been such an asshole to her. She didn't deserve any of that. He'd just gotten so caught up in El's return, in the novelty of having her back.

El made him feel warm and safe and needed. But Max… Max made him feel really alive. More than anything else did. When they were arguing, when they were having sex, when they were just sitting in his basement playing video games…

He hadn't seen her coming. She'd hit him like the first rainfall after a long drought, reviving something inside of him that he hadn't even known had been buried deep beneath the surface.

It was the most real thing he'd ever felt. There was nothing logical about it.

There's no fighting gravity…

Mike sat up with a sharp inhale. Suddenly the choice wasn't a choice anymore. And he knew what he had to do.

His stomach was in knots as he walked the path to the cabin. Flowers were starting to sprout up from the damp earth, tiny green stems poking through a carpet of dead leaves.

Shit, was he really about to do this? Was he really about to break things off with the girl he'd once been sure was his soulmate? He so badly wanted it to feel right with El but it just didn't. It was like trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong place.

The cabin came into view and Mike's heart leapt into his throat. He hadn't seen Eleven since the night of the whole gate fiasco nearly three days ago.

He'd still radioed her every day to make sure she was doing alright, but he had told her his parents had grounded him as punishment for staying out all night without telling them, buying himself some time and space to think.

He had no idea how El was going to take it. Maybe if he was lucky she would just snap his neck and then he wouldn't have to deal with the mess he'd made because he would be dead. And if she didn't, there was a good chance Hopper would hunt him down and finish the job himself.

The door opened before he even made it up the stairs.

"Mike!" El beamed at him, immediately throwing her arms around him in a hug. She rested her chin on his chest, smiling up at him. "Guess what? Hopper says if I study hard over the summer I can go to school with everyone in the fall."

"That's great," Mike said absently as he disentangled himself from her embrace and peered inside. "Is he uh, is he around?"

"No, he's working."

Thank god, he thought as they entered the empty cabin.

"Um… let's go over here." Mike gestured towards the sofa and took a seat.

He pressed his palms into the tops of his thighs. Suddenly his chest was tight and it had become significantly harder to breathe.

"What's wrong?" El asked, immediately sensing that something was off. She always could read him like an open book.

"What? Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"Mike." She pinned him with a penetrating stare. "Don't lie."

Mike swallowed. His throat felt raw. "Okay. Uh, you know how… you're friends with Lucas and Dustin?" he started, choosing his words carefully. "And then you and I are friends but also uh… more?"

She looked puzzled for a second but nodded, a small smile appearing on her face. "Because we kiss?"

"Yeah. Um. The thing is lately… I've been thinking maybe… we should just be friends like you are with– with the other guys."

El stiffened, her head tilting to the side. "I do not understand."

Oh Jesus, her eyes. They were so round and unblinking. He needed to just spit it out but he felt like he was shooting Bambi's mom in the face.

He dropped his gaze to his lap. "I don't think we should be together anymore."

A glass shattered on the other side of the room with a loud crack, making them both jump in surprise.

"Sorry," she mumbled, wiping at her nose.

"No, I'm sorry El. I'm so sorry. I never wanted–"

"Is it because of Max?" Mike's eyes widened. How did she–? "You look at each other… different," El explained, seeing his shock.

"Before you came back, I thought you were gone forever, I swear." He gulped, looking back down at his hands. "And me and Max, we were uh…"

"Together?"

He nodded hesitantly, because they were, weren't they? "Kind of, yeah."

"And you do not like me anymore." It was more of a statement than a question, and he looked up at her in alarm.

"No El, I do like you, so much, but… maybe just as a… a friend?"

She slowly nodded, drawing in a shaky breath. "But you like Max… more than a friend?"

"I– I think so…" he said. And then more decisively, "Yes. I do."

"I don't understand," El sniffled, her voice small. She blinked rapidly, her huge eyes brimming with tears. Mike's stomach clenched with guilt. "Why did you make me think you liked me? Did I do something wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong!" he insisted, his words catching around the lump in his throat. "It's me, I'm an idiot, I'm such a fucking idiot. I–I really did like you back then, so much. But two years is a long time… And then you came back and I was so excited but I think maybe it wasn't the same once the initial excitement wore off and–"

He cut himself off, taking a steadying breath. Fuck, he was rambling. It was probably just confusing her more.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly, unsure of what else there was to say.

There was an agonizing pause as silent tears began slipping down her face. Nausea rolled through him at being the one who put them there. Her hands were balled up into fists and he fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. He couldn't stand to see her upset, but that would only send mixed signals.

Eventually, she took a deep breath, brushing her cheeks with the heels of her hands before looking over at him. "We are still friends?"

Mike exhaled in relief, blinking back the tears that been welling up in his own eyes. Maybe he wasn't completely burning a bridge after all. She would always be one of the most important people in his life, just in a different way than he'd initially thought.

He slid closer to her on the sofa, resting a tentative hand on her bony, trembling shoulder. "Yes, always. I promise."

The next day Mike went to visit Will. He had been under observation at the lab since that night to make sure there wasn't any evidence of residual Mindflayer still lurking inside him. That morning they'd finally given him the all-clear and he'd been allowed to return home.

Mike was so relieved that Will was okay. He hoped this was the end of all the supernatural madness that had been plaguing them. He didn't think he could bear seeing his friend suffer like that again.

Soon after he got there Will asked him how Eleven was doing, and Mike had no choice but to spill the beans about the whole fucked up situation.

"So you're switching back?" Will asked when Mike finished, unable to mask the judgement in his tone. "Just like that?"

"It's not some casual decision. I tried with El, but Max she's… she's in here." Mike pressed his fingertips to the centre of his chest. "I know that sounds stupid but–"

"No." Will shook his head. "No, I… I get it."

"And I mean maybe she won't even take me back, but it wasn't fair of me to keep forcing something that wasn't there."

"Shit, Mike."

"I know. I know." Mike raked his fingers through his hair. "And I think I really fucked it up, Will. She slept in my arms and I just– God, I can't believe I just ditched her like that. What kind of a shitty person am I?"

"You're not a shitty person Mike," Will insisted. "You care a lot, it's who you are. It's why– it's why we love you. But… sometimes you can focus so much on one person that you forget about everyone else. And El was important to you at an impressionable time in your life."

Mike kept his eyes on the floor, unconvinced by his friends' reassurances. Good people didn't do what he did.

"Here I– I wanna show you something." Will leaned over the side of his bed and picked up a tube of paper. He rolled the elastic off before handing it to Mike. "It's my midterm art project."

Mike carefully unrolled it, revealing a scene depicting The Party fighting a three-headed dragon. Max was there too, a pair of feathered wings spreading from her back, red hair floating wildly around her like some kind of siren as she attacked one of the monster's heads from above.

A smile broke out over his face. He had no idea Will's art had gotten so good.

"This is amazing." He glanced up at Will. "You painted this?"

"Yeah." Will cleared his throat and inched closer to Mike on the edge of the bed, pointing at his paladin character. "See how you're leading us here? You're guiding the whole party, inspiring us. That… that's what you do."

He pointed at the shield. "And see your coat of arms here? It's a heart. And I know it's sort of on the nose, but that's what holds this party together. Heart."

Will shifted back to where he'd been sitting before, his earnest gaze meeting Mike's. "We all know you're an amazing person, Mike. We know that everything you do is because you care, and you'd never hurt any of us on purpose. Max knows that too."

Mike swallowed and looked back down at the painting, touched by his friend's faith in him.

His fingertips ghosted over the fierce, untamed portrayal of Max, remorse and regret panging in his chest. "Maybe, but… there's no way she'll forgive me, right? I mean, I wouldn't forgive me. She already had trust issues and now this…"

Sighing, he looked over at Will. It was unfair of him to put their friend in the middle, but he had to know. "You two have been pretty inseparable lately…"

Will gave him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. "Yes…?"

"Well, have you talked to her?" Mike pressed. "How is she?"

"She's okay…" Will answered evasively. "Her stepdad left."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think pretty much the day after everything went down."

"Good," Mike nodded. That was one more monster taken care of. "Do you um, know anything else? Like how she feels about certain… things…?"

Will sighed. "If you're asking me if I think you still have a chance… you do. One chance. So don't screw it up this time."

"How do I do that?"

"You just have to tell her how you feel. And mean it. Really mean it. You know that tough girl, untouchable bitch thing is all an act?"

"Yeah. I know. I have to try, though. If there's even the smallest chance that I can have her back."

"And don't hurt her again, Mike," Will said, his gaze imploring. "She doesn't deserve it."

Mike nodded, a fresh wave of shame washing over him. If Max forgave him, he would do everything in his power to never hurt her again.

He took a deep breath and stood. "Do you know where she is?"

Mike looked up at the sky as he crossed the empty football field. Dark clouds churned overhead, the air metallic and heavy with the promise of imminent rain.

He should have been rehearsing what he was going to say, the apologies he needed to make, the promises he wanted to keep, but his emotions were running too high.

He was just going to do what Will said and tell Max how he felt, and if she rejected him and decided she didn't want him in her life anymore… Well, he didn't want to think about that.

The baseball diamond came into view and he saw her, his heart immediately vaulting into the roof of his mouth. She was on the pitcher's mound, her green baseball cap on backwards as she lobbed underhand throws at the cage. Softball had started up a few weeks ago, and they had their first game right after the break.

She must have seen him approaching but pretended not to, her stony, focused gaze remaining glued to the invisible target above home plate.

Mike's fingers tingled with a mixture of nerves and determination as he got closer. He stopped right behind the cage, slightly off to the side, as she continued her practice, the chain link rattling violently with each pitch.

"You can look all you want, Wheeler, but no amount of technique is going to overcome those spaghetti noodles you call arms," Max called out after a minute, still avoiding his gaze.

He snorted. At least she wasn't giving him the silent treatment. He watched her work her way through the duffle bag full of softballs, waiting for his moment.

Eventually, she ran out and had no choice but to walk closer to him, hurriedly collecting the balls littering the catcher's of them had rolled right to where he was standing. His fingers curled through the chain link as she drew near, his heart thrumming so hard he felt lightheaded.

"Can we talk about what happened?" he asked when she bent down to pick up the ball.

"What?" She didn't look at him as she straightened up and turned away.

"Don't play dumb."

Max bristled as she walked back to the pitcher's mound. "Oh, that quick fuck in the woods?" she said nonchalantly. "That didn't mean anything. We were just glad we didn't die and got carried away. It was nothing."

"It didn't feel like it."

She kept her eyes over home plate as she wound up for another pitch, but he noticed her throat constrict as she swallowed. "What did it feel like?"

Like magic, he thought but didn't say, because that corny shit definitely wouldn't work on her. He waited until the ball rattled against the back of the cage and she finally glanced over at him, blue eyes filled with trepidation.

Mike took a breath. "I dunno but… it felt right, didn't it?

Max faltered for a second, something flashing in her eyes before they hardened again and she looked away. "It doesn't matter how it felt."

"Why not?"

She snorted. "You know why."

Cautiously, as if approaching a skittish animal, he walked around the fence and toward the pitcher's mound. "Max, I–I think I realized that… I've been holding onto something that isn't there anymore. I think too much time has passed, and I want different things now."

He stopped a few feet away from her. She eyed him pensively, her body tense as if she was ready to bolt. The wind began picking up, making her long hair billow behind her, and he felt something wet land on his glanced up at the stormy sky as sparse raindrops started to fall, but Mike kept his eyes trained on her.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. And I'm so sorry that I hurt you in the process."

Max blinked, her mouth dropping into a frown. "You can't hurt me, Wheeler," she snapped defensively. "Get over yourself."

"Well, I'm still sorry, Max." He took another step towards her, working hard to keep the tremor out of his voice. "You have to forgive me. You gotta give me another chance. Please."

She crossed her arms, shaking her head as she looked off into the distance.

"Would it help if you hit me?" Mike offered, prompting her gaze to snap back to him. He nodded at the ball in her hand. "You're mad at me, so hit me. One free shot, below the neck."

Max pursed her lips, giving him a once-over. "Fine. Stand over home."

This was good, Mike thought as he made his way to home plate. He could take one little hit. It's not as if he didn't deserve it. Max could get out her anger and then she would hear him out.

It started to rain more steadily as he turned to face her, cold drops dotting his head and shoulders. That focused look reappeared on her face as she wound up. Oh god, she wasn't going to aim right at his junk, was she?

Mike's hands reflexively flew up to cover his face as she released the ball.

"Fuck!" he grunted as it struck him hard in the midsection, just above his belly button.

The pain was immediate and jarring, radiating through his torso as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. God damn it, how did such a small person throw that hard?

Once he'd caught his breath he straightened up, lifting the hem of his shirt to glimpse the circular red welt that was already beginning to form. "Nice one."

But when he glanced up at her she was already looking away, crouching down and packing her things up into her bag.

"Wait!" he called out, but the wind snatched his words away. He strode up to her in a panic. "Where are you going?"

She stood, her eyes boring into him, as stormy as the sky above. "This doesn't change anything, Mike. You're just crawling back because you miss fucking me. Well, I'm not interested, okay? You weren't that good in bed."

"That's not the only reason!" Fuck, how did he make her see? How did he make her believe him? That he'd do anything—anything—for a second chance.

Just tell her how you feel.

"I like you, Max!" he exclaimed, making her pause. "A lot. I like hanging out with you and losing at video games to you, and I like talking to you, about everything, even the deep stuff that I know freaks you out. And yeah, I mean the physical stuff is unreal, but… I like all of it. All of you."

As he was talking the sky opened up and it began to pour in earnest, the rain rapidly drenching their hair and clothes.

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable, and then laughed flatly. "So what? I'm supposed to be grateful to be your second choice?"

Irritation sparked through him. Why did she always have to be so aggravating?

"You're the one who ended things, remember?" Mike answered combatively, unable to stop himself from sniping back. "You're the one who said we didn't mean anything, even though you know that's not true!"

"Oh, so you're saying you would've picked me over her?" His mouth opened and closed uselessly. Max scoffed. "That's what I thought."

"No!" Mike cried, blinking water out of his eyes. "No, you're not the second choice, I swear, but I– I had to try. With El," he stuttered. "Or I'd always be wondering. And well, now I know for sure that it's not– that she's not…"

Her face softened when she realized what he was trying to say. Hope flared in his chest. He swore she was about to cave, but instead, she just shook her head and turned away again.

"I can't do this," she muttered, bending down to pick up her bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she turned and started walking back towards the school.

Mike's stomach dropped. It wasn't working. He was going to lose her. "Max, please don't leave–"

"Go back to El! I'm sure you two can make it work."

"I already told her we should just be friends!" he called out before she could get too far away.

Max froze and whirled back around, advancing on him with quick steps, her bag sliding off her arm and falling to the dirt.

"Why would you do that?" she hissed, getting right up in his space.

He looked her in the eye, refusing to back down from the ire in her gaze, breathing hard as water sluiced down his face. "You know why."

She was silent, but she wasn't leaving, so he kept going, throwing his ego to the wind. "I was sleepwalking through life for years, but you woke me up the day you kissed me, Max. You did that. What we had, it was real to me. It's the most real thing I've ever felt."

He pushed back the hair that had become plastered to his forehead, trying to summon up more words to get her to stay. "And– and we just fit together, don't we? Despite everything, despite all our flaws and differences. It works. I know you feel it too."

For a beat, Max didn't say anything, her eyes flickering back and forth between his.

"How am I supposed to trust that you won't change your mind again?" she asked, her voice barely audible above the roar of the rain. "That in a month you're not gonna wake up one morning and realize you made a mistake?"

"I won't! That's why I already ended things with El. It's you or no one, Max."

Sheets of water cascaded over them now, their clothes completely soaked through and clinging uncomfortably to their bodies, but they both stood their ground.

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, hedging. "And just how did El take it?"

"Okay…" He looked down at his feet. The silt was turning to mud and staining the toes of his high tops red. "She uh, she knew it was because of you."

Max let out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh well that's just great! You think I need your mass murderer ex glaring at me the wrong way and collapsing my trachea? Did you even stop for a second and think about the consequences of your idiotic actions? Of course you didn't, because that would require having more than one brain cell to rub together!"

Mike couldn't stop himself from smiling fondly. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her yelling at him. He thought he liked her best like this—irate and fiery and radiating passion.

"You're a real goddamn moron sometimes, Wheeler, and I don't know why you're just standing there with that dumbass smile on your face. Like way to put a fucking target on my back, you fu–"

One arm wound around her waist and pulled her flush against him, stunning her into silence.

His other hand came up to rest on the side of her face. "Are you done?"

She blinked up at him, her mouth half open in shock. Without waiting for a reply, Mike ducked his head, pressing his lips to hers. They were so warm—a stark contrast to the chill that had set into his bones—and slick from the rain.

Max's palms landed on his chest. He could tell she was fighting between pushing him away or pulling him closer. The latter won out after a few seconds, hands fisting in his damp shirt as she kissed him back as fiercely as she ever had.

Euphoria flooded through Mike's veins at his gamble paying off. She sighed into his mouth as he hauled her up against him. Their lips slipped and slid together over and over, as if trying to make up for all the lost time. There was nothing gentle about it.

God, he'd missed this too. He pushed her baseball cap to the ground as he ran his hand back through her wet hair to cup the nape of her neck. The other one crept under the hem of her soaked t-shirt, revelling in the warmth of her soft skin as she shivered against him.

They kissed until his head spun and his lungs ached, like drowning in the best way. When the need for air became too great they broke apart, foreheads touching as they panted against each other's mouths, sharing oxygen.

Max pounded her fists weakly against his chest.

"Fuck you, Mike," she gasped. "You just left me. Like I was nothing."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry," he breathed. "You're not nothing. You– you're everything. I swear I'll never hurt you like that again." His fingers tightened desperately in her hair. "Can you forgive me?"

Max squeezed her eyes shut, rain dripping off her pale lashes. The world around them slowed as Mike waited for her answer. This was it. Moment of truth. His heart was in her hands.

Her nose bumped lightly against his as she nodded, and he felt so overjoyed he was pretty sure he could do a backflip. Instead, he kissed her again, briefly, before pulling back and cupping her face with both hands.

She was soaked to her skin, her cheeks and nose red from the cold, her lips swollen and pink and tugging up into a cautious smile. Mike didn't think she'd ever looked more beautiful.

He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, hoping the tracks of water streaking down them were rain and not tears. "We should be together. For real. Dates, meeting the parents, fucking… pet names, the whole thing. No more hiding."

"Are you sure?" she breathed, blinking water out of her eyes as she squinted up at him. "We might kill each other."

Mike raised his eyebrows challengingly. "I'm not afraid of a little risk, are you?"

He grinned as she answered him with another kiss, her hands interlocking behind his neck to drag him down to her. Their tongues rolled together, so deep and hungry he could feel it thrum through every inch of him.

A deafening clap of thunder cracked through the air around them, causing them to spring apart, startled for a moment before they chuckled at each other.

"We should probably get out of here!" Max shouted over the downpour.

Mike stepped closer again, his hands curling around her waist. "Come home with me? We can warm each other up."

She rolled her eyes, pressing her lips together in an attempt to hide her smile. "Yeah, okay."

And half an hour later, when their clothes were in the dryer and their bodies intertwined under the covers of his bed, when tentative touches and nervous kisses turned into tender caresses and gasps of each other's names, Mike knew there had never really been a choice at all.

Author's Note: Wooo! I've always wanted to write a melodramatic fight/kiss in the rain

Also I hope you guys like my callback to Will's painting. I had him add Max in since they're besties in this fic ️

Now, the final chapter is a really long, really sweet epilogue that I'm super excited to post. HOWEVER, I am going on vacation for two weeks, so that last chapter is going to be posted on September 24 at the latest.

If I somehow get it done sooner I will post before then, but I'm just thanking all of y'all in advance for your patience :)

As always, thank you for all the comments/bookmarks/kudos 💕