#feat. lucas

[murray-baumans]

 who: Murray & @sinclairss​​

where: the Hawkins border

Another day, another stakeout by the border. Since the incident last week, Murray had spent every night hiding out in Joyce’s busted up car, waiting. Waiting for what, he wasn’t sure, but... he knew there was something out here and he intended to find out what. The art of stakeouts was flawed, to be sure, but Murray couldn’t completely discount it. After all, everything evil is more comfortable at night. 

Or something like that. Murray was just approaching the border-- around dusk, he liked to get settled before it was completely dark. Strapped to his back was a bag full of snacks (essential), a notebook and several pens for any notes, a flashlight, backup batteries, binoculars, and a small firearm. If his time in Hawkins had taught him anything, it was that he would rather have a flamethrower, but it was entirely too clunky to lug out into the woods. He was shoving his things into the backseat of the car when he heard a twig snap. 

Turning towards the noise, Murray steeled himself for the worst-- Demodog, Vecna, or worse, the feds! He breathed a sigh of relief when Lucas Sinclair stepped into the clearing. “Jesus, kid! You can’t sneak up on an old man like that,” his eyes swept the trees behind Lucas. “You out here alone? Surely you know better?”

[artificerdusty]

who: Dustin Henderson & @sinclairss where: Yoda's apartment (Lucas pays the rent)

After another unsuccessful search for Luke, complete with another Hawkins perimeter search for any gates or electromagnetic disturbances of any kind, Max had gone home. Or, somewhere. Dustin didn't really know where she went-- he never had. But he was glad to finally have Lucas alone, because he'd been buzzing with questions since he'd found them in their compromising situation earlier this morning. The second the door clicked shut, Dustin listened for Max's footsteps to recede and turned to Lucas, with an only-slightly-crazed look on his face.

"Okay! So!" he said, expectant eyebrows raised at Lucas. When his friend didn't jump at his prompt, Dustin crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, come on. Tell me! What's going on between you two?" he demanded, then looked around the room to avoid Lucas' eyes. "You don't have to... it's okay, obviously, I'm over it." And he was! The tightness in Dustin's gut when he saw Max was so much more than an unrequited middle school crush-- it was a longing for simplicity. For a time before shit got so... complicated. God, he hated being an adult. More than that, he hated how completely he'd messed everything up. Maybe it was too late for him, but it definitely wasn't for Lucas.

Dustin doubled down on his line of questioning, threatening: "Just tell me or I swear to God I'll call Mike! And we'll fucking... we'll fucking wet willy you!"

[akeem47bell]

who: Akeem Bell & @sinclairss where: Lover's lake

As much as Akeem thought Hawkins was... well, whack, everytime he got a call from Cole Montgomery, he was reminded all over again how glad he was to be here and not in LA. He didn't know what Max was thinking, leaving him with some white dude who did labor law. The fuck did labor have to do with Akeem? He went out of his way not to labor, and Max knew that damn well.

But, well, there was other shit on her mind, obviously, and Akeem had basically decided that she wouldn't ditch town until that one kid was found, so he decided to do his part. He didn't really have a flashlight or anything, but he had a lighter, which he brought with him on the trail by the lake. Of course, pulling the lighter out reminded him that it'd been at least two hours since his last hit, and he couldn't do something as fucked up as look for a missing kid sober, could he?

So Akeem lit up in the woods, puffed on his joint, and held his lighter up as if it was illuminating anything other than his own hands. It was so dark that he didn't even notice the other until their shoulders brushed, and Akeem let out a breathy laugh. "Oh, shit, you're that dude!" he exclaimed, clicking his lighter to inspect the man's face. Yup. It was him-- the guy who'd been... weird at the school but then, like, way cooler later. They had to stick together, anyway.

"'Sup, man, what you doing out here? You need a ride?" Akeem hadn't seen any other cars in the parking lot... or, at least, he was too distracted trying to stash his stash in the trunk so no fucking kids got too nosy. But anyways, he rocked forwards on his feet toward the dude. "You need a hit?" he offered, before thinking again. "Who are you, by the way?"

[artificerdusty]

@sinclairss

pinball wasn’t his best game by any stretch of the imagination. actually, the only arcade game he was worse at was probably digdug. but he still had the high score on this particular machine, probably because it was seen as kind of a relic now. kids these days. his gaze didn’t lift from the game as he spoke. “what do you think i am? some kind of rookie?” unfortunately for lucas, as he was trash talking, he took his eye off the ball and lost it. 

he played it off like he’d done it on purpose and made a show of taking his next shot, careful to shoot it off to the right so that he could pull off the move dustin had mentioned. it took a little more effort than it had when he was twelve, but he rocked the machine up on its side to save a lost ball, using geometry to bounce it back through the paddles and back into play. “guess there’s a reason i still have the high score on this machine, huh?” as if on cue, he lost another ball.

instead of taking the final shot, lucas kept it in the starting spot and reached up to eat a handful of popcorn. “what’s sad about it?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “i don’t have to share my snacks and i get to pick the movie i want instead of switching off every week. and i get to pick the seats i want.” he launched the ball and refocused. “what are you doing here anyway?” his tongue pressed into his cheek. “i don’t see any kids here. so technically, you’re here by yourself, too.”

Dustin happened to find great comfort in the fact that some things never changed. Pinball and Lucas Sinclair were two of those things. With the funeral coming up, and once-familiar faces returned to town, it was easy for Dustin to get bummed out about what could've been. Who he could've been, where he could've lived, what he could've done. But all of those things would mean missing this: pinball with Lucas.

And watching Lucas suck. "Dude, stop trash-talking when you're making rookie mistakes," Dustin egged him on, though he watched in awe as Lucas rocked the machine and somehow saved it. "Unbelievable," he scoffed. But just as soon as he'd earned Dustin's quiet, Lucas lost another ball and Dustin exclaimed: "Ha! What was that about a high score?"

Dustin shrugged. It didn't sound all that bad, actually, he just much preferred going to movies in a group. "Don't you like talking to somebody about it afterwards?" At the mention of not sharing his snacks, Dustin took another handful of popcorn from Lucas' bucket. He chuckled at Lucas turning his words back on him, and shrugged, "Drop off. Katherine... doesn't like coming by the house if she can help it," he admitted, with a glance at his feet.

[loverboymontgomery]

who: Cole & @sinclairss​​

where: The Hideaway 🍻 

Since he’d been admitted to the hospital, Cole had rarely had a moment alone. He didn’t mind it, when the people surrounding him were Adam or Max or Chrissy or Beth, not at all! But he had so many questions and was exhausted to his core with worry, and around them? Cole wouldn’t express that. Everyone else was scared enough, the last thing he wanted to do was add to that. Even still, Cole hadn’t been able to get the carnival out of his head-- the way Adam had reverted back to whatever happened before he died-- the way Max wasn’t even there-- the way Tommy H had acted more animal than human. 

So he’d found himself at The Hideaway a few times this week, somewhere he doubted any of his friends and certainly not his boyfriend would willingly go. It was a nice excuse to wallow for a while, allow himself to drown the fear in a few jack and cokes. At the moment, Cole was on his third, desperately trying to numb the ache in his chest, the uncertainty about whether or not Adam would live to the end of the week. Cole finished the glass, setting it down on the bar with a rattle, and motioned to the bar tender that he’d take another. With his eyes lifted, Cole saw the last person he’d expected to see: Lucas Sinclair. When it was clear that the other had seen him, Cole lifted a hand in greeting and pasted a smile on his face. 

“Hey, man. What... uh, what are you doing here?” Cole asked, ignoring the twinge of embarrassment in his gut. Drinking alone was so uncharacteristically uncool. “Can I buy you a drink?” he offered, figuring Lucas had some shit to air out, too. He’d been attacked by Tommy H, after all, and that was the last Cole remembered seeing of him before the explosion. Though, admittedly, he’d been a little busy.