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Lucas doesn’t realize how exhausted he is until he’s approaching Steves car, his entire body still vibrating with leftover energy. By the time he, Dustin, and Will pile in, his legs feel like jelly, his ears are still faintly ringing, and the adrenaline from riding roller coasters for twelve hours straight is finally starting to wear down. The amusement park lights shrink behind them as Steve pulls out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Neon blurs into darkness, streetlights flashing past in slow, rhythmic bursts, and the air inside the car smells like sunscreen and funnel cake. Lucas is still clutching the lopsided stuffed alien Will won at one of the ring-toss games, and the engine hums low beneath them as the night finally starts to settle.
Dustin’s energy is still all too high as he rapidly recounts the day they’ve had from the front seat. He’s loud and animated as he usually is, and Steve joins in on his antics, eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel.
Lucas sits in the backseat with Will, their knees almost touching. His friend is still riding the leftover amusement park high, talking with his hands as he remembers how fast one the roller coasters went, and teasing Dustin for passing out on the slingshot. His cheeks are warmed from walking around in the sun all day, a small smattering of freckles presenting themselves from hours of sun exposure.
They’re all still buzzing with lingering amusement park excitement (which would’ve only been exacerbated if Mike, El, and Max were in the car with them but thankfully they went with Robin). They spend the first twenty minutes of the car ride talking each other’s ears off, laughing the type of core-aching laugh you only get to do when surrounded by friends.
And then at minute twenty-one, the crash hit.
Dustin finally runs out of steam somewhere during Steve's rant on how overpriced the drinks were. His voice trails off, and he eventually goes quiet, head leaning against the cool window. Steve turns the radio down without making a comment.
Will’s words eventually start to slow as well, his sentences trailing off halfway through. His head tips slightly towards Lucas every time the car turns, like gravity is slowly winning the argument Will doesn’t even know he’s having with it. His hands have stopped moving around so much, fingers fidgeting in his lap much less than usual. As if his body keeps reminding itself that it’s time to relax, time to wind down.
Lucas notices the shift in Will’s energy before he does. He catches the moment Will’s blinking gets slower — long, heavy blinks that take a second too long to reopen. His brown hair falls into his eyes but he stops bothering to push them back. He yawns and tries to sit up straighter but ends up leaning back again, shoulders sinking into the seat. His head dips once, just barely, before he blinks awake again.
Lucas must’ve been staring for too long because suddenly hazel eyes are meeting his brown ones with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look.
Heat rises up his neck as he realizes he’s probably been staring for too long. He plays it off by nudging Will’s knee with his own.
“Tired?” He asks.
Will shrugs, his gaze shifting to the lights outside the window. “Just a little.”
Lucas snorts. “You almost fell asleep in line for Ferris wheel.”
“That was strategic resting.” Will says, but the words come out soft, already losing their edge.
“Right, of course.” Lucas smirks, forcing himself to look out of his own window instead of staring at Will like a hawk.
Suddenly the car is quieter than Lucas has ever experienced — the kind of soft, settled quiet that only happens when everyone’s too tired to fill it with noise. Lucas watches as streetlights and trees pass them, the low and steady hum of the car filling the space. He absentmindedly squeezes the little alien stuffed animal in beat with the soft music that he can barely hear. The quiet settles over him like a blanket, warm and heavy, and for the first time all day, he feels the exhaustion catch up to him.
Another minute passes. Maybe two. Time feels weird like this — stretched thin, suspended between destinations. Then the car hits a shallow dip in the road. Nothing too dramatic, but something shifts beside him anyway and there’s suddenly a weight against Lucas’s shoulder.
He freezes.
Will’s head has tipped sideways, resting on Lucas’s shoulder like it belongs. Brown hair brushes against Lucas’s neck, ticklish and warm and smelling like pine shampoo. He exhales slowly, breath ghosting across Lucas’s collarbone, and doesn’t stir again.
Every muscle in Lucas's body locks up at once, like if he moves even an inch, the moment will shatter like glass. His heart stumbles, then starts racing, loud enough he’s convinced everyone in the car can hear it.
Will doesn’t wake.
Instead, he exhales, long and slow, and settles more fully against him, forehead brushing Lucas’s collarbone.
Lucas swallows hard, trying his best not to move. Or to breathe for that matter.
He just sits there, stunned, while Will Byers sleeps on his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Will’s head is warm against his shoulder, heavier than Lucas expects. It’s the kind of weight that settles instead of presses, the kind that only happens when someone is asleep. It’s grounding and somewhat comforting. Lucas stares straight ahead, eyes fixed on the back of Steve’s headrest, painfully aware of where his arm is — hanging uselessly at his side — and where it should be.
The car turns, slow and smooth, and Will slides closer. Lucas’s shoulder tucks instinctively inward, bracing him before he even thinks about it. The movement feels natural. Automatic.
Lucas swallows, risking a glance down. Will’s eyes are fully closed now, long lashes laying against his cheeks. His mouth is slightly open, breath warm where it ghosts across Lucas’s collarbone. He looks younger like this. Softer. Like the world hasn’t asked quite so much of him yet. He’s loose with sleep, trusting gravity (trusting Lucas) to hold him up, and keep him steady.
Lucas’s chest tightens.
The car hits another gentle bump, and Will hums in his sleep. It’s barely audible, more breath than actual sound. He shifts again, his forehead nudging Lucas’s jaw. He takes a moment to think, or maybe several, and before he can stop himself, he carefully lifts his arm, sliding it behind Will’s shoulders. Not necessarily pulling him close. Just… there. Something steady to prevent Will from tipping over in case the road curves again. Like a guardrail.
Will settles instantly, as if that was all he needed. His head presses a little more firmly into Lucas’s shoulder, and Lucas has to remind himself to breathe, to relax.
Another minute passes before Lucas can actually exhale.
He doesn’t think this means anything.
He doesn’t think this changes everything.
He just knows that if the ride takes longer, he won’t complain.
The ride is supposed to be two hours and some changes, but it feels shorter than it should. Maybe because Lucas spends most of it holding his breath. Maybe because Will is warm and solid against him, and Lucas’s brain has completely stopped working.
It’s only when Steve slows in front of the Hopper/Byers’ driveway that Lucas snaps back into himself.
“Alright, stop number one.” Steve says quietly, shifting the car into park.
Dustin sits up with a snort, blinking rapidly. “Wh— we’re home?”
“Some of you are.” Steve mutters.
Lucas doesn’t move right away. Mostly because he can’t. Partially because he doesn’t want to.
Will is still leaning against him, deep in sleep, warm and breathing evenly. His hair brushes Lucas’s jaw, and he’s completely unaware that Lucas Sinclair has ceased functioning as a human being. All because Will fell asleep on his shoulder.
Steve turns around, giving them a quizzical look. “Sinclair, man… you gonna wake him up? Or carrying him inside or something?”
Oh yeah, that’s right. He has to wake him up.
Lucas's eyes widen, suddenly hyperaware of how close they are. “Yeah. Uh. Yeah.”
He shifts slightly, barely moving his arm. “Will.” Lucas says softly, quieter than he meant to. His movement nudges Will enough that he stirs. His brows furrow and a tiny sound escapes him, halfway between a sigh and a complaint.
Lucas’s heart skips a beat and he freezes again.
Will blinks groggily, eyes unfocused at first, and lashes fluttering. It takes him a moment to realize where he is, and more importantly who he’s leaning on. When he does he sits up, rubbing his eyes and his cheeks going pink.
“Oh.” Will says softly, voice thick with sleep. “Sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to—”
“It’s fine.” Lucas says quickly. Maybe too quickly. “You were tired.”
Will hesitates, searching his face for something Lucas hopes isn’t obvious. Then he gives a small, sleepy smile, the kind of smile that causes Lucas’s breath to hitch.
“Yeah.” Will murmurs. “Guess I was.”
Dustin twists around in his seat, already grinning like he wasn’t also passed out a minute ago. “Dude, you were out. Like, mouth open, dead asleep—”
“Dustin.” Lucas snaps, far more sharply than intended.
Dustin raises his hands. “Damn, my bad. Protective much?”
Lucas glares. Dustin turns back around.
Will stretches as he sits up fully. “This was fun and all but I should… probably go inside. Before my mom comes out asking questions.”
“Right.” Lucas says, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Let me walk you up.”
He hurriedly opens the door before he can really think about how he doesn’t need to, how it really isn’t normal to walk your friends to their door like it’s the end of some date in those cheesy romcom movies. The porch light is already on, and the driveway is pretty short. It’s not necessary at all. But Lucas refuses to think about it as he steps out of the car.
Will steps out slowly. In his still barely awake state, he misjudges his own coordination and his foot catches the edge of the curb, causing him to stumble forward.
Lucas reacts before he thinks. He grabs Will’s arm, firm and steady, pulling him upright and keeping him from face-planting into Joyce Byers’ front lawn.
“Whoa— careful.” Lucas says, voice low but a little breathless.
Will blinks up at him, cheeks flushed pink and heart beating fast from the slight stumble. “’m fine.” He slurs, which would be more convincing if he didn’t sway slightly where he stands.
“You’re basically sleepwalking.” Lucas says, hooking a supportive hand around Will’s elbow. “Just… let me walk you.”
Will doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans into Lucas more than necessary (or maybe exactly as much as he needs), letting himself be guided up the driveway.
Their footsteps crunch against the pebbly gravel of the driveway, sound too loud in the quiet neighborhood. The porch light washes Will in a soft glow as they approach, highlighting how tired he really is.
Neither of them says anything at first.
Then Will glances at him, that tiny, tired smile tugging at his lips again. “Thanks for waking me.”
Lucas shrugs, suddenly shy. “You, uh… knocked out pretty hard.”
Will’s face heats. “Sorry about that.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” Lucas says, softer now. “It didn’t bother me at all. Really.”
For a second, Will just looks at him. The porch light catches the tired curve of his smile, the faint flush from sleep, the warmth still lingering in his eyes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Will asks.
Lucas nods. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Will lingers like he wants to say more. Then he slips inside, closing the door with a quiet click.
Lucas stands there for three full seconds before walking back to the car, heart pounding like he just got off another roller coaster.
He climbs back into the car, still feeling the ghost of Will’s weight on his shoulder.