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rosalinesbenvolio · 7 years

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I Want To Leave You Feeling Breathless

Maya's feet hurt. Lucas notices.

man I've had this idea in my head fOrever & this isn't exactly what I planned so idk if I'm gonna write another very similar But Not The Same fic or not but have this pile of fluff. title from celion dion's steve mcqueen

also on ao3

It’s not noticeable at first, actually, which Maya likes to put down to the sheer overwhelming nature of nearly doubling the size of her friend group and the amount of people she has to (wants to, is honored to be able to) worry about.

In hindsight, it’s entirely unsurprising that Lucas is the one who brings it to her attention: Lucas has rapidly become someone she can count on to give it to her straight, since Riley loves her too much to take fault in any of her bad traits and Farkle may be a genius, but he misses increasingly huge parts of her life.

Lucas calls her a short stack of pancakes and Riley agrees and the argument is settled by Mr. Matthew’s weird older brother, but Maya still goes and trades her favorite winter jacket for a pair of heeled booties at Demolition. How’s she meant to protect Riley from the big bad world if she’s too short for Riley to hide behind, anyway?

Of course, that isn’t the end of it. Riley just keeps on growing, and it’s getting quite clear that Maya’s not. Maya finds herself looking up to meet her sister’s eyes on a near-weekly basis, and she finds herself trading in each pair of shoes for a new-to-her even taller pair.

The good thing about the triangle dissolving and the whole group of them being overwhelmed with high school and relationship drama and extracurriculars and friendships outside of the circle is that no one really notices that Maya is coming to school in what is, basically, a half step away from stilettos. Or, if they do, they don't realize it's a part of some sort of weird insecurity-slash-pathological-protective-instinct and instead chalk it down to her fashion sense, which has settled into a happy medium between Rebellious Maya and Maya With A Father Figure. (It's fun to test Shawn, with skirt length and transparent blouses, but it still feels warm and fuzzy somewhere between her lungs when he tells her she's too young for such clothes.)

The downside, of course, is that she can only complain about her arches and the balls of her feet killing her so much before someone goes ahead and points out well, why are you wearing those kinds of shoes? like they think they've solved climate change or something.

In their sophomore year, when teachers start making noises about the ACTs and the SATs and their AP exams, Riley institutes a mandatory weekly study session, telling them they'd best all show up or else she’d sic her father on them. Cory’s gotten even more ridiculous ever since Shawn came home and married her mom, insisting that he's now her actual uncle, and Maya appreciates the excuse of not wanting to deal with Mr Matthews any more than she has to. She’d have come anyway, because she sort of misses Riley and the rest of them, for all they still hang out every few days, and she hates studying alone, but it's nice to be able to claim a less sappy, more selfish reason.

Maya gets to the Matthews’ residence first, even before Riley, who’s been distracted with flirting awkwardly with a girl on the cheer team, and the entire place is empty, so Maya unlocks the door with her own key, hobbles over to the fridge and pulls out what she assumes is the rest of the previous night’s dinner, leaning heavily against the countertop as she watches it go ‘round and ‘round in the microwave.

The front door opens at the same time the microwave dings, and Maya straightens up and forces her face not to wince as she carries her plate over to the couch, heels clicking against the wooden floors. Lucas is at the coffee table, already pulling two prep books out of his bag, his baseball duffel leaning against the wall by the door, his hair dropping with what Maya hopes is shower-water and not sweat.

“Riley still putting the moves on Sam?” Maya asks as she sinks into the couch, stirring up her pasta and reluctantly accepting a stack of flashcards from him.

“I think Sam finds it more endearing than uncomfortable,” Lucas says, and he grins a little knowingly when Maya lets out a tiny sigh of relief—they'd all been worried when Riley came out as bi to the cheer team, because some of the upperclassmen had been a little mean about it, but they'd graduated and the rest of the team seemed mostly fine with it in that shitty denial sort of way.

“You think she's got a shot?”

“I'd say the hair twirling was pretty telling,” Lucas gossips, raising his eyebrows and waggling them until Maya snorts.

“Riles’ gonna get some,” Zay announces when he, Farkle, and Smackle come crashing in. “Farkle saw Sam leaning over and holding Riley’s elbow, and I heard them set a date for Saturday.”

“He also whooped and got us caught,” Smackle says, shrugging out of her sweater and sinking into the love seat next Farkle. “I find myself unable to believe believe that this is who got me an etiquette book.”

“Is no one gonna let me forget that?” Zay mumbles. “It was a nice gesture!”

“Almost as nice as pity-asking me out,” Maya quips and Zay groans, messing up her hair as he passes by on his way to the pantry to look for Mr Matthews’ secret poptart stash. Every time he finds them, Cory changes the location, and it's been almost a year of passive aggression, and Maya wholeheartedly approves.

“I helped him hide them,” Farkle calls out to Zay, who is halfway underneath the sink. “You'll never find them this time.”

Zay does a passable imitation of Farkle’s old favored honk-laugh and Farkle whirls, half out of his seat, to throw his copy of The Scarlet Letter at Zay’s back.

“You swore you'd never do that!” Farkle half-shouts, patting Smackle’s calming hand on his forearm absently. “Now I get to tell everyone about you getting locked in the chicken coop.”

Lucas snorts and then starts laughing, ducking his head and pressing his hand to his mouth. Maya reaches out and prods him in the back of the skull, easy enough to reach, for once, since he's finally taken his regular seat on the floor, between the couch and the table, in front of her.

“Do you already know this tale, Sundance?” Maya presses when his shoulders keep shaking, even as he mostly controls his expression. Zay’s struggling to get out from under the sink and yelping loudly in protest, swearing and shouting that Farkle had better not, but Maya’s attention is entirely on the green-eyed cowboy at her feet. “How come you haven't told me?”

“Zay knows too many things about me,” Lucas admits, grinning ruefully even as he reaches back and catches her hand to stop her from continuing to jab her little fingers at him. “But I think Farkle is just annoyed enough to share.”

Zay yells nonsense the entire time Farkle speaks, and Farkle only just gets louder until the both of them are nearly screaming over each other. When Riley finally shows up, looking dazed and well-kissed, Farkle has to tell the story again, since they're all cracking up and she's curious. Zay pouts the entire second time, making menacing noises, but he's ultimately a good sport about blackmail deals.

They break for dinner when Auggie gets home, and they all take turns talking to Cory and Topanga when they call from their date-night vacay hotel in the Hamptons, like the upper-middle class white people they are.

Between biology and trig Maya brings up Sam, and Zay leaps at the change to tease someone else for a change, but Riley is, Maya is proud to note, somewhat more composed about this love interest than she has been in the past, only pinkening a little when Maya makes kissy noises, and only gushing for a moment about Sam’s eyes and how smart she is before she fairly adeptly turns the subject to Lucas’ most recent game.

Maya leans over and cuddles into her sister for a while after Lucas and Smackle get into it about the validity of baseball as a hardcore sport and the comparable mathletes team. Riley allows Maya to pet her hair and snuffle at her cheek, smiling gently and fondly as she wraps her skinny arms around Maya’s frame, squeezing and giving her a look like we can gush more later.

Maya blows a raspberry against Riley’s elbow-pit in a and don't be stingy on the details and eventually drags herself to settle back against the other arm of the couch, one leg bent at the knee, other one dangling over the side, heels still strapped to her feet.

Eventually it's time for Auggie to go to sleep, and the group settles into their quieter selves, Farkle and Zay quizzing each other on the periodic table, Smackle typing steadily on her laptop, working through her English essay with a sort of efficiency that still impresses and terrifies Maya in equal measure. Riley is the first one of them to nod off, curled up tinier than she should be able, all those long limbs and huge personality, hugging her math notes and her phone tight to her chest. Zay is next, and Farkle pulls out a book to read. Lucas is still working through his ACT prep book, setting his phone’s timer and taking test after test, eyebrows furrowing a little when he doesn't finish with the results he'd wanted.

Maya stretches hard, arching her back and pressing her shoe against Lucas’ cheek when he wrinkles his nose at the sound of her spine cracking. He blinks and finally looks up from his workbook, hands catching Maya’s heeled foot and holding it steady, his expression like he's working through some tough problem.

“Still wearing these, Shortstack?” He says, not really a question, more under his breath than anything else. His eyes are glinting in the dim room, and Maya knows she's been caught. Because Lucas is a fundamentally different person than she is, he doesn't immediately start laughing or crowing at this new knowledge. He barely even smirks.

He does, however, shift around until he’s more or less facing her, pull her foot a little closer to his chest, and unbuckle her shoe, sliding it off her aching foot with an overwhelming sort of gentleness.

He motions for her other foot and, somewhat dazed, she slowly slings it towards him, taking care to not jostle Riley with the movement. He removes that shoe too, and just holds her feet in his hands for half a second before he digs his thumbs into her arches and Maya has to bite down on her lip to hold back a damn moan, the pleasure-pain is so good.

He keeps doing it, too, massaging her feet and her ankles, soothing and firm in an alternating, mind-blowing pattern, those green eyes looking up at her from his spot at her feet.

“How long have you needed this?” Lucas murmurs, and Maya—Maya flushes, eyes glancing around the room to make sure Smackle and Farkle finally succumbed to sleep.

“How long have you wanted to do this?” Maya retorts quietly, and Lucas doesn't answer her any more than she answered him, but his hands drift up a little, working her calves with strong, slightly calloused fingers, never leaving her feet for long.

Maya tilts her head, hair falling around her in a way she knows is attractive, and Lucas’ eyes dilate, obvious only because of how closely she's watching him.

“I won't pretend that I think anything I say will convince you to stop,” Lucas muses, brushing his thumbs across the delicate bones in the top of her feet.

“They're kind of my thing, now,” Maya says, with a casual shrug that doesn't do too great a job of disguising her shudder. Lucas is polite enough not to mention it, although now—now, he's smirking.

“Gotta give the people what they want,” Lucas agrees.

The words are on the tip of her tongue: and what do you want? but she's only ever been brave with Riley, and this ain't something Riley can help her with. Lucas seems to read the question in whatever expression is on her face anyway. He bends down and presses a feather-light kiss against each foot before giving Maya her feet back and smiling, that proper, Huckleberry smile that Maya won't admit for a million dollars that she's missed.

“I'll make sure to hear you, the next time you complain about them,” is all he says. It's almost a letdown. Her stomach swoops at all the promises in his expression. It kind of feels like a beginning, though.

#lucaya #lucaya fanfiction #gmw fanfiction #show: girl meets world #ship: lucaya #writing #mystuff

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