fool

except... in the first month of your relationship, max has been hurling insults his way tenfold. to the point where even lucas has noticed and has encouraged her to "chill out on harrington", which resulted in her breaking up with him for an entire week.

(it was the longest week of your life, because lucas sinclair wouldn't stop calling your landline phone. when his efforts there weren't sufficient enough for max to take him back, he started showing up to your doorstep every morning, biking over with a bouquet of flowers in one hand.

eventually, max ended his misery when he promised to never tell her she's doing something wrong, ever again.)

that friday night, steve whisks you away from the wheelers' basement, driving you over to lovers lake so you can finally get some privacy in the back of his car. it's not ideal, but max is still calling your space a "no harrington zone", and you'll take whatever alone time you can get with your boyfriend.

"have you figured out why max hates me more than usual?" steve asks as his hand works the bra clasp behind your back. you furrow your brows and disconnect your lips from his, a confused look on your face.

"are you really thinking about my sister while we're making out?"

"ew, no," steve says before ducking down to press a series of kisses along your neck. you hum, feeling the confines of your bra loosen, and he pushes the straps down your shoulders, "i was thinking about how she looked like she wanted to murder me when we left mike's just now, though."

"does max intimidate you?" you ask, combing your fingers through his messy hair. steve shrugs, burying his face into the junction between your shoulder and neck.

you notice the very distinct lack of kisses being seared into your skin, and you exhale lowly, scratching gently at his scalp. he nuzzles closer into your touch.

"i don't think she's ever liked me too much, but now that you're my girl, her opinion really matters to me." steve finally admits.

a gentle smile crooks at the corners of your lips.

"i can talk to her," you murmur, thumbs finding his warm cheeks, brushing over his skin. "d'you wanna see my tits now?"

steve looks up and presses his chin against your chest.

"yes, please. i think that'll make everything better."

that night, steve drops you off at the trailer you and max live in.

it used to house billy and his dad, too, but the latter split after his son died. your mom also technically lives there, though she hasn't been all too present since everything with billy happened.

if it weren't for max and now steve, you think you would've left hawkins a long time ago.

you're not surprised when you walk through the front door to find all the lights still on, max eating cereal and watching some late night television in your makeshift living room. you send her a small smile as you dump your bag on the counter, then plop down next to her.

"hey, killer," you greet, bumping her knee. "how was the rest of your night?"

max shrugs, jaw working through a mouthful of soggy cheerios.

"fine," she eventually answers. "the usual."

she turns to you, shifting her position slightly so she's angled closer to your body, blue eyes sweeping over you. you wrinkle your nose as she juts her chin at your neck, fingernails covered in chipped green polish suddenly yanking at the collar of your worn tee-shirt.

"what are you—"

"god, why do you let that leech leave marks on you like a vampire?" max asks, poking hard at the fresh hickey steve left at the top of your breast.

"oh my god, max, haven't you ever heard of a little personal space?!" you exclaim, shoving her away. she rolls her eyes and gets up to dump her empty bowl in the sink. "what's your deal with steve, anyway? i thought you liked him."

max laughs bitterly at that. in her sad excuse for pajamas — an oversized hawkins high tee-shirt that used to be yours, now passed down to her — she reminds you so much of the little girl she used to be.

it scares you a tiny bit, how much she still looks like her — the same bruised knees and freckles and frizzy red hair, except this version of max seems to hate you a little bit, and you can't figure out why.

"night." max mutters, and it's the last you see of her that night.

"can i take you out tonight?"

it's the first thing steve asks when you call him the next morning. you smile to yourself, all loved up and thoroughly charmed by steve harrington, who is already experiencing severe withdrawals after being away from you for less than 10 hours.

"i don't think so," you murmur into the receiver, twirling the phone cord around your fingers, "max was seriously peeved when you dropped me off last night."

steve groans on the other end. "we have to figure this out, mayfield. i'm not letting a teenager dictate my love life."

"you rescheduled a date once so you could take dustin to the arcade."

"that was different."

you roll your eyes, "regardless, i feel like i should be spending more time with her. maybe she's still reeling from the whole billy thing. i don't know."

"i could come over. bring some ice cream and steal a tape from family video."

"you're sweet. thievery and all," you tease, biting your lip, "lemme just try to handle this one, though. we can catch up tomorrow after your shift."

"promise?"

"pinky promise."

"holding you to it, mayfield."

you giggle as you each hang up the phone, just as max walks into the living room. she already has that look on her face — the one that's half a pout, half an evil eye — and you smile at her, playing dumb.

"hey, do you wanna have some sister time tonight? i got paid yesterday, i could order us a pizza and paint your nails or something. watch a movie, too, maybe?"

the hopeful tone in your voice is impossible not to pick up on, and it kills you a little bit when max's frown only burrows deeper into her face.

"don't you have plans with your little airhead boyfriend?" she asks.

"no, and he's not an airhead, max. i told him i was busy hanging out with you tonight."

"so what, you ditch him for one night and think you're sister of the year?" she rolls her eyes. "i already have plans with lucas anyway. you're off the hook."

"max," you sigh, blocking her from walking any further as she goes to leave. "come on, we have to talk about this. what's your deal with steve? why don't you like us dating?"

max crosses her arms over her chest. she's as stubborn as the day she was born, when she refused to fall asleep anywhere but your mother's arms.

"you're gonna think it's stupid."

"nothing you think is stupid."

she hesitantly twirls a braid in her hand.

"i just... look, mom's always brought him these absolute losers, so who's to say steve isn't one of them?"

you blink. the anger in your throat immediately subsides.

"you're scared i'm gonna end up like her," you say, and max, though looking off to the side, still looking uninterested, nods her head. "i get it, maxie. letting steve in was a risk for me, too. it took me some time to decide he was worth it."

she chances a glance at you. you reach out to brush over her knuckles.

"he's not like the bad guys mom dates, and he's not like billy, either. he's good. he... he takes care of me, and he takes care of all of you, right? just because we're dating now doesn't mean that's gonna change. a label isn't gonna change that."

max shrugs. "but what if he wants you to, like, leave hawkins before i graduate? won't you go with him?"

you smile gently.

"never in a million years," you say. "he knows better than to ask me to ever do anything like that. and he knows that you'll always be my number one priority."

max, looking slightly less uncomfortable now, nods her head. her arms are at her sides, and her lack of response tells you that she's processing, if not at least pacified by your explanation.

"okay, well," max swallows, then clears her throat. "you can tell... steve that he can come over whenever he would like, then. and he can come to the next sister night we have."

you grin.

"thank you, maxie," you step forward to wrap her arms around her shorter frame, to which she reluctantly accepts. you laugh into her messily parted hair before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "steve is a good guy, okay? i promise."

"if he's so good, he can cool it on the hickies," she bites, grabbing her skateboard as she wiggles out of your embrace, "seriously. you look like you're in a bad halloween movie half the time."

you stick her tongue out at her and wave her off, following as she jogs down the short flight of stairs at the entrance of your trailer.