Ana's tickle fics is inactive

Fortunately - or unfortunately - for her, Steve was all too used to sass.

“Stop,” he said, swatting away her foot. “You’re worse than Dustin.”

“That’s an insult.”

“It was meant to be.”

She huffed, sticking her shoe into his face again. “You’re boring.”

“You’re free to leave.”

“There’s nothing better to do anyway.”

They were sitting on the steps leading up to Eddie’s trailer, Steve waiting for Eddie and Max waiting for god knows what. Max seemed to avoid being at home, but she seemed to avoid purposefully seeking everyone else out too, maybe afraid her mind couldn’t handle it once she got there. With Steve (or maybe more with Eddie - Steve suspected she did this more with him) she could just leave when she felt like it. No commitment. No hurt feelings.

Steve pushed her foot away again, twisting his body to glare up at where she was sitting two steps higher than him. She smiled, not innocently, but provocatively. Steve could see why everyone adored her. Why Lucas was head over heels for her, why Dustin and El fought for the title of her best friend, why Eddie let her hang around even though they had nothing in common. Why Steve himself would protect her with his life like he protected the others.

He huffed and looked away, hoping his thoughts weren’t written on his face because how cheesy was that? Fortunately Max didn’t seem to be done tormenting him because her red shoe was in his face again, this time tapping his ear and Steve had had enough, his dealing with Dustin instincts kicking in as he grabbed her ankle. “Stop.”

“Make me.” She said it before she started tugging at her leg and realizing she couldn’t escape his grip. “Let go.” Her tone, albeit in a subtle way, was less cocky now.

“No. You need to learn some manners.” Without thinking he started scribbling his fingers over the back of her knee, making her jerk away with a sudden, panicked laugh. “Oh, really? I didn’t think a little tickling would be your weakness.”

“Don’t,” she said, her voice laced with laughter. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

“Mm, no. I think I need to make sure you won’t do it again first.”

“Steve, I’m warning yo-AH!”

Steve had gone for her knee cap this time, spidering his nails over it in a way he knew made Dustin freak, and while Max’s reactions were smaller, more calm, it seemed to be doing the trick anyway. She curled in on herself, hands flailing, seemingly unsure of how to react since Steve had her leg trapped. He tried to make sure she didn’t hurt herself, tickling and pausing and tickling and pausing in order to keep her from sliding down the stairs or hitting her head against the railing. His repetitive stopping made her laughter choppy, which was cute.

“Is your calf ticklish?”

“No!”

“I feel like you’re lying.”

She managed to grab the back of his shirt as he pinched her calf, pulling weakly at him without much success at whatever she was trying to do. “Stop!”

“This? This is called revenge. And I’ve only been at it for a minute.”

She groaned through her laughter and Steve was so focused on how her leg vibrated each time he tickled it that he didn’t notice his grip loosening until a foot came flying for his face.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing.”

Lucas walked closer. “What is it?”

She shrugged, finally turning to look at him. She seemed tired, but Lucas knew she’d not been able to sleep recently. “I’m not sure.”

He leaned over her, looking at the notebook. It really wasn’t looking like anything yet, but who was Lucas to tell. “It’s pretty.”

Max snorted, rolling her eyes when Lucas looked at her. “Thank you,” she said, grinning up at him in a way that made Lucas smile right back.

He sat beside her, their arms touching. Max had resumed her drawing, and Lucas was watching her quietly. He was used to watching people draw; had spent years watching Will doodle in notebooks and textbooks. It helped calm her down, whether she was drawing out something that was on her mind or simply allowing her pencil to take the lead. He wasn’t sure what it was this time, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask. She was focusing on the page before her, focused on turning it into something new, but Lucas could feel her energy shift from the drawing to him and back, constantly ping-ponging between them, as if she, too, was unsure of what to do.

Lucas made a move to get up, hating to be disturbing her, but she grabbed his wrist. “Stay.”

“But I’m tired,” he said, an attempt at teasing as he lowered himself back onto the chair. “Aren’t you?”

“Not really.”

“Liar. I can see you fighting off a yawn.” He poked her cheek and she laughed, her walls down, both safe within the semi-darkness of the empty room, the empty story of the house.

“Maybe you’re just boring me,” she said..

“Oh, well, excuse me for trying to be nice to you.”

It was a game. Their tones light, all smiles, all love. Lucas had missed that. They rarely laughed nowadays.

Lucas poked her stomach this time. “I want an apology.”

She swatted his hand away with a sound he knew as her panicked laugh which she tried to smother on the way out, usually only heard when he tickled her. “Never.”

He grinned. It wasn’t the time or place for a tickle fight, but he could make her giggle just a little bit.

“Come here,” he said, snaking his arm around her. “Bed time.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she said, playfully elbowing him in the side.

“No, but this finger is.” He poked her again, this time in the ribs, and she let out a strangled sound which Lucas adored.

“Not here,” she hissed, dropping her facade. “We’ll wake everyone.”

“So come to bed then.” He squeezed her side with the hand he had around her, smiling when she giggled and moved closer to him on instinct. “And maybe I’ll stop. Or maybe I won’t.”