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Lucas doesn’t know Max is coming over today. She’s done it before, showed up at his doorstep without any warning and asked if he wanted to get his ass kicked at Dig Dug before dragging him to the Arcade, where he does—as predicted—get his ass kicked at Dig Dug. And then they’d make out a little bit in a corner before playing more games and Lucas would get his ass kicked again. But it’s different today.
It’s ten in the morning, and he’s eating breakfast when the doorbell rings. His mother yells at him to get the door and he expects it to be the postman or something like that.
It’s Max at the door, and his heart skips a few beats, because holy fucking shit .
Whoa.
She looks different.
The most noticeable change is her hair. Where it once fell to her mid back, it’s short and curled and much more boyish, and she keeps touching it, like she’s making sure it’s still there.
She looks good. Like, really good.
His eyes sweep her appearance, taking in the oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans, hoodie tied around her waist, her shy smile and hand running through hair. She crosses her arms and looks at him, and he realizes it’s the same Max as always.
“Are you gonna keep checking me out or will you say something already?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment and he looks away awkwardly.
“Sorry. Uh, you look—” he looks her up and down again, albeit quicker, “really nice. Not that you don’t always, but, uh…you look good..” Max tries to sound unbothered, but she looks more pleased.
“Thanks, stalker.”
“Any—any particular reason for the makeover, or…?” He trails off, trying to understand why she showed up at ten in the morning with a new haircut, (which looks really fucking good, as he said) trying to hide her nerves.
He doesn’t mind, obviously. Lucas never minds when it’s Max. (“Dude,” Mike would say, “you need to calm the hell down. It’s just Max .”)
It’s just Max, who is hot and pretty and cooler than me and out of my league in at least four hundred different ways.
She’s his girlfriend , for fuck’s sake.
“I’m not a girl.” Max blurts out. Lucas freezes.
Okay, nevermind then.
“Oh,” Lucas says, because what the hell is he supposed to say? He’s not mad, or upset, not even a little bit. Max stands there, watching him, and he wants to hug his girlfr— boy friend, who’s blinking rapidly and rubbing at his eyes. But he just stands there.
Where does this leave him ? Does he still like Max like that? Can he still go on dates with him and treat him exactly the same as before? He doesn’t like boys, does he? But at the same time, it’s Max Mayfield . And just a minute ago, when Max showed up at his doorstep, still a she to him, but looking a lot more like a boy, the first thing he thought was whoa . He very much still liked him a minute ago. And he looks again, and it’s Max, with his new look, and he still very much makes him think, whoa . He’s still the most gorgeous person Lucas will ever meet.
Oh.
Oh .
“Uh, so I’m a boy, I guess. And I still like you and I want to go on dates with you, but it’s fine if you don’t want to—if you don’t like me like that anymore. If you don’t like me at all. I just wanted you to know.” Max rambles, close to tears.
It’s fine if you don’t like me at all.
Lucas walks onto the porch and throws his arms around his boyfriend. “You’re actually insane if you think I don’t like you anymore.” He says to him, and Max squeezes tighter, soaking his shirt with silent tears.
“I’m so proud of you, Madmax.” Lucas whispers, and Max pulls away to look at him.
“I really want to kiss you right now.” He admits, flushed. Lucas brushes a tear off his face.
“Dude, same.” Lucas replies. And Max smacks his arm lightly.
“Dude? We’re literally dating , asshole.”
“Yeah,” Lucas says, hit with a rush of ecstasy, because, yes, they’re dating. Max is his boyfriend. “Yeah, we are.”
Max pulls him inside so nobody outside can see them before pressing him against the wall and kissing him. His eyes widen before he pulls Max closer. Oh , Lucas thinks, for the millionth time that morning. Oh, wow, I like this.
Lucas Sinclair realizes that day that he is very , very bisexual.
He drags a hand through Max’s hair, soft as ever, though it’s shorter now. He wants to get closer and closer and closer, though they’re already pressed against each other.
“Hey!” His sister snaps. Max pulls away immediately, his eyes widening in fear. “People live here, you know? Get. A. Room.”
Erica walks past them, lugging her stupid barbie doll with her and muttering, “fucking hell.”
Max cracks a smile before bursting into laughter. “Your sister is so freaking hilarious, you know that?”
“More like annoying,” he mutters, and Max raises his eyebrows.
“What, jealous?” He teases, “Of your ten-year-old sister?”
“You know what?” Lucas starts, and Max scoffs.
“Please,” Max says, “what are you going to do? Break up with me?” He asks, because he loves antagonizing his boyfriend.
“I just might, Mayfield.”
“Keep telling yourself that, stalker.” Max looks around to check if Erica is around before kissing him, short and sweet.
“Bet you ten bucks my boyfriend is better than yours.” He says.
“I bet you twenty that he’s not as great as mine.” Lucas quips back instantly.
And he’ll say it a thousand more times, with the way Max beams at being called his boyfriend.
“Shut up.” Max kisses him again, just for good measure. “I will literally hit you with my skateboard if you disagree with me, Lucas.”
“Noted.” Lucas says, nodding solemnly. “But I’m still right. You’re the best boyfriend in the universe.” Max’s cheeks are red and he’s smiling all the way up to his eyes.
It’s Lucas who closes the gap this time between them this time, and yeah, he really does love his boyfriend.