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Will can’t sleep.
It’s nearing three in the morning, he has to give a presentation—of which he finished putting together barely an hour ago—for his art history class at around nine, and the soft, low hum of Robert Smith’s voice emitting from his phone’s speakers is doing very little to ease his nerves or, more ideally, knock him out of consciousness. Dustin’s soft (yet entirely too loud) snores bleeding into his ears from across the room definitely aren’t helping, either.
Will huffs in quiet exasperation, rolls onto his back, and starts counting the glow-in-the-dark stars he and Dustin had stuck up there at the beginning of the school year. They’re fun, okay? If anyone were to give them shit about it, at least they’d know who to avoid. No one has—everyone who’s seen them absolutely loves them—but then again, it’s not like they’re inviting very many people over in the first place. The few people they do have over are people who’ve known both Will and Dustin long before college—and one of them is Will’s boyfriend.
His boyfriend.
Has Will ever mentioned how much he likes that he gets to say that? Gets to call him that? Has he ever fully explained just how much he adores the fact that he can say the sentence ‘Mike Wheeler is my boyfriend!’ and have it be entirely true? Because he does. He fucking loves it.
Has loved it for the past six months, will continue to love it for the foreseeable future, and had been praying for the ability to say it for well over a decade before they even got together. Yes, he knows that’s pathetic. No, he doesn’t care. Because—need he remind you?
Mike Wheeler is his boyfriend!
And Will has his hoodie to prove it.
It stretches weird around his shoulders, hugs him just tight enough to notice but not tight enough to be uncomfortable, and also manages to have sleeves that reach down to his fingertips—but it’s proof, nonetheless. His boyfriend’s freakishly skinny but also freakishly tall, what can he say?
Well, he misses him. He can say that much.
He really misses him, actually. Which is stupid, and dumb, and stupid (again) because they saw each other just over seven hours ago. And it’s not like Mike is in some far, far away land full of dragons, unicorns, and pixie dust. Mike’s just in his and Lucas’s own shared dorm room on the other side of campus—a whole half-mile away—and it’s all because Will just had to kick him out so they could both actually get their assignments done. Dammit. At least he got a hoodie out of it.
With another exasperated huff, Will drags his eyes away from the (ceiling) stars and officially pauses his journey to dream world. Rolling onto his side, Will reaches an arm out into the darkness and starts patting the top of the drawer next to him aimlessly in an attempt to find his phone. He finds it eventually, drawing it closer to him as the sound of Robert Smith’s voice becomes louder and louder—singing about someone who’s soft and only, lost and lonely, and strange as angels.
Will rolls back again, head re-hitting his pillow with an exaggerated ‘oof’ as he balances the magical rectangle on his sternum, squinting at the sudden brightness that comes with turning it on. Lowering his brightness, Will allows his eyes to properly adjust before he just smiles (stupidly, dorkily, stupidly) at his lockscreen. It’s a picture of Mike—total nerd, total idiot, total boyfriend of six months—flipping off the camera mid-laugh as he giddily presses a myriad of kisses into the side of Will’s neck.
Has Will made it clear enough that he wants to spend the rest of his life with this boy? Has he also made it clear enough that he’s checking if said boy is, too, awake right now?
With a smile still playing on his lips, Will opens his messaging app, finding Mike’s contact instantly where it’s pinned to the very top.
Eggs Benedict <3
He’s had it (minus the heart) as Mike’s contact name since they were kids. I mean, come on—they were obsessed with everything Five Nights at Freddy’s—lore, animations, letsplays, the games themselves—when they were younger, and his best friend’s name just happened to be Michael. Of course he was going to take advantage of that in some way.
Nowadays, Will just can’t bring himself to let it go.
It’s fine though, because Mike can’t seem to let go of ‘Squilliam Fancyson,’ either, and that one’s (inarguably) three billion times worse.
Eggs Benedict <3
mike
mikeeee
No response.
Figures.
He switches through apps instinctively, finding Mike’s little profile icons and hoping for a green dot to blink to life beside any of them. He’s just about convinced that all his worst fears are about to be confirmed true. That he’s just going to have to keep texting Mike’s contact alone until he falls asleep—allowing for Mike to wake up to a completely reasonable number of messages consisting of each and every one of Will’s thoughts as they pass through his head—because he’s somehow managed to fix his sleep schedule, and is actually—unlike Will—asleep.
But then he opens the Steam app.
Stardew Valley.
Mike’s been playing Stardew Valley for the past five hours.
Figures.
Eggs Benedict <3
mike
michael
i know you’re awake
i can see you’re playing stardew valley
mike
mikeee
stop ignoring me
mike
mike
I wasn’t ignoring you, I was fishing.
mi
oh
Fishing. He was fishing.
Mike was ignoring—because that is what he was doing, Will’s decided—Will’s repeated pleas of Mike’s own name, because he was fishing.
In a farming simulator. At (basically) three in the morning. When he most definitely has a multitude of assignments due within the next week. And has also most definitely not started on any of them.
And Will’s twin-sized bed somehow feels very empty without him in it.
Outrageous.
How absolutely outrageous this is of him.
Eggs Benedict <3
“oh” ??!?
Y'know, I was expecting my presence to bring out a lot more enthusiasm from the person who was just spamming me with my own name at 3 in the morning
And is also, apparently, stalking my Steam account
sorry, i was just coming to terms with the fact that you just deemed fishing in a farming game more important than talking to your boyfriend
What.
WHAT???
so no, i'm not sorry at all, actually
In what world does that translate to THAT?
this world
my world
our world
Will
Will, I’m sorry
I’ll never fish again
I hate fishing in this stupid game anyway
You mean more to me than any fish ever could
Both real and pixelated ones
wow
i beat all fish everywhere in the battle for mike wheeler’s affection
i should get a medal or something
Yes.
Yes, you should
Anyway
Hi :-)
Will hates that stupid, ugly, nose-having smiley face. Hates Mike’s over incessant use of it. Hates how it looks like it’d be named something like Jeremy. Hates how it also looks like it’s going to offer him a plate of (probably poisoned) cookies, and then when Will denies, it’ll keep trying to shove the plate of (still poisoned) cookies into Will’s hands, muttering the words, ‘No, please! Take them! I insist!’ over and over.
He hates that stupid smiley face as much as he hates Mike.
Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip in an attempt to lessen the smile that’s threatening to tear his face in two, Will begins to type out his response.
Eggs Benedict <3
hiiiiiiii
Can’t you sleep?
Because you’re, y’know, messaging me at 3 in the morning
And you have to give a presentation for your art history class in the actual morning
Of which I’m assuming you’ve finished putting together
Hence why you’re now messaging me after kicking me to the streets like a poor, poor lost puppy
i did not kick you to the streets
i kicked you to your room
like a kid who just got scolded for kicking the poor lost puppy
Aww
Seriously, though
Are you okay?
Want to just sit on call with me until you fall asleep?
I promise you won’t have to listen to me fish
If Will were still trying to repress his smile, he’s sure his lip would be bleeding through by now. God, he loves him. Loves him in a way that no amount of paint strokes, or words, or whatever would ever be able to properly capture—but that sentence on its own describes the feeling well enough, he guesses.
He considers the offer. Considers having Mike’s voice—alongside the soft, distant click-clack of his keyboard and the smell of the godforsaken hoodie that’s still hugging him weirdly—be the things that Will allows himself to drift off to.
But here’s the thing. He doesn’t want to.
Not from here.
Not when he’s right there.
Eggs Benedict <3
well
not really
i want you to come here
Oh?
my bed misses you
Just the bed?
the pillows too
I see
Just the bed and pillows?
ugh
fine
:-)
you know that cat hanging on a branch in that ‘just hang in there!’ poster that dustin bought because he thought it was ironically funny?
yeah, he misses you too
:-(
that cat has been begging me to let him make out with you for weeks
Well
Tell him I’m very flattered
But very taken
And also very not into cats like that.
i will if you tell your boyfriend you’re coming over
Will
mike
The RA that’s in right now hates me
It’s 3 in the morning
And you’re on the other side of campus
i fail to see what the problem is
Will, I’m serious.
This RA genuinely, wholeheartedly, unequivocally, and unabashedly HATES me
???
you know you’re technically an adult, right
Geez, okay
Rude?
you’re allowed to leave your dorm, there’s literally no rules against it
and i very highly doubt this ra of yours will care
at all
Wait no, Will, that’s not the issue
You don’t get it
make me get it then
She scares me
…
she scares you.
Terrifies me, yes
???
what on earth did you do to her?
Hang on, why would you assume that I was the one who did something?!
And even if I did do something
I DON’T KNOW WHAT
She just…
She has a very mean glare
She glowers at me, Will
Glowers.
wow
we should introduce her to max
they’d get on great
Will, I’m not joking
This is serious
Deathly serious
jesus christ
it’s not like she’s gonna have a gun or anything
she’s working for a college, not the military
She could SO have a gun
You don’t know her
She probably keeps a sniper rifle in that bag she’s always carrying around
And because it’s 3 in the morning, and there are seemingly no witnesses, she’ll shoot me on sight
she’s not going to have a fucking sniper rifle
She might
Again, you don’t know her
And even if she doesn’t have a gun, she definitely has something in that bag.
okay, fine
let me look at this from your perspective
Please do
your ra, for whatever reason, is just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce at and kill you
because she looks at you meanly
carries a bag around with her
and apparently has nothing better to do with her time.
Yes, exactly!
Glad we’re finally in agreement here
wanna provide examples of whatever the hell it is she ‘definitely has’ and will use to kill you?
Oh, happily
A taser, for starters
Pepper spray
One of those really, really big and heavy metal waterbottles
A knife
Another knife
A bigger knife
An extendable baton
Oh, and the sniper rifle
Obviously
who the hell carries around an extendable baton
The RA
And Paul Blart
paul blart is a fictional mall cop, mike
Your point?
my point is that your ra is another sleep deprived college student whose job consists of telling people to shut up at 3 in the morning
and hoping that no one burns popcorn and causes the fire alarms to go off
her job, notably, does not consist of whacking lanky idiots with batons
Did you read her job description?
No?
Didn’t think so.
So you don’t know that for sure
i know enough
i know that you’re very brave
and can most definitely overcome your fears of a twenty-something year old with mean glares and a mysterious bag
to come and see me
You overestimate me, Byers.
Will stares at the words on his screen, thumbs hovering above his keyboard.
You overestimate me, Byers.
Does he? Does he, really?
Mike’s the one who stood up for him when they were kids.
Still stands up for him now.
He’s the one who kept searching for Will when he was believed to be dead, the one who never treated Will like he was someone who needed to be pitied, the one who loves with his whole heart but struggles to show it to most people.
Mike’s the first friend that Will has ever had.
The person that he’s always felt safest around.
So sue him for believing that Mike can not only face, but also get over his fear of a godforsaken Resident Assistant.
Eggs Benedict <3
“i’d do anything for you,” he said
Hey.
“nothing and no one would ever be able to come between us,” he said
Will
Please
fine then
don’t come over
i’ll just fall asleep hugging myself in your hoodie
like a loser.
You’ll fall asleep doing what like what now
idk
i didn’t say anything
Aww
Which one is it?
Navy blue one
You left it here before you left
Was kicked out**
die
I bet you look adorable
You’re so fucking cute
I can’t believe you’re real
I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend
I love you so much
The feeling’s mutual.
Incredibly mutual, and if Mike hasn’t managed to pick up on that by now, he’s not only oblivious, but downright stupid.
Will’s chest feels so unbelievably full—has for the past six months. You’d think that by now his heart would’ve stopped fluttering at the use of the word love, that his pulse would’ve stopped stuttering at the use of the word boyfriend, and that his face would stop flushing at the mere thought of said boyfriend kissing him senseless.
But Will’s hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
And if he were going to be honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Will’s smile widens against the collar of the hoodie—having attempted to bury himself into the thing as deep as possible—resembling a turtle poking its head out of its shell.
And then he decides that the only reasonable response to being loved is to be incredibly annoying about it.
It’s fine. Mike’s the one who started it. The one who enables it, keeps calling Will cute, and is most definitely twirling his hair and kicking his feet at the thought of Will in his hoodie.
Mike loves it.
Well…
Mike loves Will.
Eggs Benedict <3
man, i wish i could relate
because idk who you are but my boyfriend would have dropped everything the INSTANT i asked him to come over
so i don’t love you
because you’re clearly not him
:-(
You wound me, Byers
You wound me true and deep within my heart and soul
then you should come over so i can kiss it better
Are you offering to rip my chest open so you can kiss my heart?
Oh my God, Will! That’s so romantic!!
And would make a great Yellowjackets scene, now that I think of it
I’d sacrifice myself to the wilderness for you
see, i don’t know if i believe that
because you can’t even seem to get over your fear of an ra
so how on earth would you manage with a bunch of cannibalistic lesbians?
:-(
yeah
be sad
you should be so sad, wheeler
now hurry up and let me hug and kiss you better
outside of your chest cavity
Is this a threat?
come find out
Trust me, I’m incredibly tempted
give into it
give into your temptations
You sound like a Disney villain
because i am
i have a very tragic backstory
and it involves the supposed love of my life refusing to cuddle the love of his life to sleep because he’s too scared of an ra and her mean glare
Willlll
:-(
mikeeeee
come to my lair
i’ve got… candy
Okay, so now you’re kidnapping me
you’re being very dramatic about this
You’re the one trying to lure me into your ‘lair’
you called me a disney villain
i’m just playing the part
Of course
also, your hoodies fit me so weird
it’s annoying
It’s incredibly cute, actually
no.
annoying.
It’s not my fault you’re weirdly ripped
i’m not ripped.
you’re just all bones
literally everyone is ‘ripped’ to you
No
You’re, like, genuinely buff
Made my fourteen year old self go insane
Still makes my current nineteen year old self go insane
well, i’ve never heard you complain about it before
Oh, trust me
I’m not starting now
Or ever, for that matter
you’re insufferable
Big talk for someone who’s begging for me to grace them with my presence
i am not begging
i am asking
normally
for you to face your fears
For me to face my fears?
of the ra, yes
i believe in you
just run past her
with scissors
That’s terrible advice, Will
wow
okay
so you’re just refusing to be brave now
No
I’m just refusing to let my death certificate read, “died upon tripping over and stabbing himself in the chest with a pair of scissors he’d been running with in an attempt to threaten his dorm building’s very scary ra at one in the morning”
“but it’s okay because it was in the name of love”
Right. Yeah.
so come on already
But she’s still out there, Will
oh i swear to god
Because it’s her job
And I’m now 99.9999% sure she actually does have a sniper rifle
Or a baton
And will not hesitate to shoot/whack me
she’s.
not.
going.
to.
have.
a.
baton.
or.
sniper.
rifle.
You.
Still.
Don’t.
Know.
That.
Is it possible to die from an over excessive use of eye rolls?
Probably not. If it were, Will would’ve been declared dead years ago—long before he ever got to call Mike his boyfriend.
Just let it be known that he’d be at very, very high risk right now if this condition had magically materialised within the past five minutes.
Eggs Benedict <3
ugh
fine then
don’t come over
i’m taking off your stupid hoodie
Hot
Do it slowly and send a video
oh my god
forget the ra, i’ll kill you myself
No you won’t
You love me too much
debatable
Dateable**
.
..
…
did you come up with that on the fucking spot or were you just waiting for the opportunity to present itself
I don’t know
You tell me ;-)
Just don’t look through my notes app
i hate you
i actually hate you
you’re such a dork
i want to kiss you so bad
i hate you so much
Pretty sure at least one of those things contradicts the others
pretty sure you’re just wrong and stupid actually
Whatever you say my gorgeous beautiful unicorn princess of a boyfriend who's never ever wrong about anything ever
jesus christ
just come over
please
Aww, Willll
Sweetheartttt
Light of my lifeeee
Cuddly wuddly sugar lips having honey boo boo bearrr
cuddly wuddly what.
Do you miss me?
i won’t ever miss whatever the hell that was
but being one’s boyfriend usually implies that they’ll miss them at certain points in time, yes
That’s a really roundabout way of telling me you miss me
just come here
to me
please
God, I love you
I love you so much
Can I just ask if there’s a reason you’re seemingly incapable of being the one who comes to me?
Don’t.
Because the RA might get to you before I’m able to jump in front of the bullet
But, still
Is there a reason?
because
Because…?
just because
also you’re legs are longer
so you'll get here faster
and you’d be able to get your hoodie back, so
two birds with one stone
Genuinely who is out there actively hunting birds with stones
This question has been eating at me for years
Wait, isn’t there an episode of The Simpsons about this?
i don’t know
i don’t care
just come HERE
or i'll break up with you and make out with that stupid cat poster myself
because he’s forgotten about you entirely
and has been making heart eyes at me all night
Will
i’m serious
he has
and i will
Oh my God, you are!
Hi Will!!
shut up
shut the fuck up
come here so i can shut you up
…
i never typed that
you can’t see that
I wish your dorm room was on the ground floor
???
And had openable windows
???
okay???
So I could throw pebbles at it and then climb through like the love interest of a Disney Channel original movie
do you want a boombox too?
to blast sad romance music out of
obviously
Will
i’m pretty sure jonathan has one back home
i can get him to mail it to me
Will
what
Open your door
What.
What.
Will sits up in bed instantly, hood falling off of his head and onto his back as his gaze shoots toward the door. You’d think he would’ve heard something before this point—be it the soft thump of footsteps, or small, quiet shuffles. It doesn’t matter how quiet someone’s trying to be. Will’s always able to pick up on it.
After everything that’s happened between Lonnie and now, Will’s awareness of his surroundings had become something of a habit. Something that would make his younger self crawl into a ball, and something that would make the version of him from barely a year ago want to sob into his pillow.
So how the hell did he not hear anything?
Is Mike fucking with him? Would he do that? Get Will’s hopes up for something only to immediately let him down and send some shit like, ‘You just walked the prank!’
…No.
Mike isn’t the type of person to joke about stuff like this.
Okay, Well.
Mike isn’t the type of person to joke about stuff like this—if it’s directed to Will.
But—hey. Who knows.
Maybe Mike’s sense of humour just turned really, really stupid.
Eggs Benedict <3
?
???
?????
:-)
shut up with that stupid smiley face
:-(
mike
‘Tis I
michael
‘Tis still I
michael wheeler
William Byers
Michael “Mike” Wheeler
Oh my God, you’re using capital letters
I’m swooning
But yes, that’s still me
Hi
Hello
if i open my door right now are you going to be on the other side
Dunno
Go find out
if you’re fucking with me
i’ll seriously actually fully break up with you
and then hunt you down so i can dump you at the feet of your sniper of an ra
Please just open the door so you can decide my fate already
Throwing his phone onto the bed, Will shoves his blankets off of himself and starts padding toward the door. His socked feet ensure that his footsteps remain a reasonable volume for this time of the night, and Dustin should really be praising him within his dreams right now.
He reaches his destination eventually, curling his fingers around the doorknob and taking note of the way the metal transfers its coldness into the palm of his hand.
He twists, he pulls, and—
Yeah.
There he is.
Mike Wheeler. Idiot extraordinaire. And Will Byers’ boyfriend.
His hair is a mess, either tousled from the wind or the result of having Mike Wheeler and his hand as an owner. His cheeks are pinkened from the cold, illuminated only by the light emitting from the phone Mike still has in his hand. Said light is also illuminating his nose, freckles, cheekbones, smile. His fucking smile. Not the stupid smile—not the Jeremy smile—his actual smile. The smile that Will’s engraved into his brain and wants to engrave into his heart.
His hoodie—which is actually Will’s hoodie because of course it is—is only half-zipped, clearly having just shoved the thing on as a last minute thought. His sweats are bunched where they’ve been pushed up to his calves, his socks are mismatched, and his shirt sits low, slipping down and exposing his collarbone for all to see, and—shit.
Will snaps out of his thoughts, blinking at him.
Mike blinks back, and his smile widens.
Will feels his own cheeks start to pinken, and blinks again.
Mike’s smile only continues to widen, and then he’s starting to part his lips.
“Hi,” Mike whispers into the space between them, voice rough around the edges. “See, this would have been much more romantic if I announced my presence by throwing pebbles at your window.”
Will tries to scoff. It comes out as a noise much closer to a giggle.
“You would’ve managed to smash through it,” Will whispers in response, lips twitching with the ache that comes with repressing the urge to mirror Mike’s smile. “Or missed the window entirely. You have terrible hand-eye coordination.”
“Okay, ow?” Comes Mike’s response, slapping the hand that’s not being occupied by his phone onto his chest, and gasping in mock hurt. “You’re so mean to me, Byers. So, so mean to me.”
Will rolls his eyes, smile now fully breaking out on his lips as he grabs Mike’s phone, throws it behind him and onto his bed, grabs Mike by the front of his stupidly low t-shirt, and pulls him into a hug, arms wrapping around Mike’s middle.
“I missed you,” Will mutters, voice muffled where he’s buried his head into Mike’s shoulder.
Mike’s arms wrap around him instantly, fingers coming up to thread through Will’s hair as he plants a kiss onto Will’s neck.
“I know.”
“Yeah, okay Han Solo.”
Mike snorts, and then giggles immediately take over, spilling out into Will’s neck. The sensation causes tingles to shoot down his spine, and at that, Will joins in on the laughter, tightening his hold on Mike before starting to sway the two of them unthinkingly.
They stay like that for a while. Swaying and giggling in the doorway of Will’s dorm room, where he’s sure his own RA has shot them a few ‘mean glares’ of her own. Honestly, Will wouldn’t be able to bring himself to care if he tried.
Once they’ve calmed down, Will pulls away from Mike only to immediately grab him by the hand and pull him into the room afterward. Mike goes to toe his shoes off, leaving them by the door as he allows himself to get comfortable in the space that Will and Dustin have created together. Hell, the space all four of them—Dustin, Will, Lucas, and Mike—have created together. And it’s the exact same in Mike and Lucas’s room, too.
They all have toothbrushes dedicated to both bathrooms, and clothes that sit and hang in both closets. They’ve shoved mattresses onto floors for movie nights, fallen asleep in piles in front of laptops, and they’ve done all these things and more for so long it feels almost incomprehensible. And sure, they’re not kids anymore, but really—who cares? Who says they have to stop now? No one who’s happy with where they are in their own lives, that’s for sure.
Eventually, Will crawls into bed with Mike and lets their legs tangle together. The bed’s very clearly something that wasn’t designed to hold two nineteen year old boys, but neither of them care. It’s not like this is the first time they’ve done this.
Will’s arms re-wrap around Mike’s middle, head then finding purchase on his chest as Mike plants soft kisses into Will’s hair. Mike’s own arms wrap around Will’s shoulders, his back being propped up slightly from where it lies against the pillows.
Will lets out a sigh—the first content one of the night—and allows his eyes to fall shut. Not to sleep. Not yet. Just to breathe, and fully take everything in.
“So, I take it your RA didn’t shoot you,” Will speaks up after a couple moments, Mike’s fingers now twirling the hair at the back of Will’s head.
“She never got the chance,” Mike replies instantly, smile still evident in his voice despite the sleepiness of it. “I hid behind a vending machine and waited for her to turn a corner before I made a run for it. This was happening when I was messaging you about her bag, by the way.”
“Wow. You’re so brave.”
“I know. I should get a reward or something.”
“Oh?” Will responds, lips twitching upward. “Should you, now?”
“Obviously. It was a very scary quest,” Mike states.
“You didn’t fight a dragon,” Will says, punctuating the statement with a small, unreasonably fond scoff. “You hid behind a vending machine and ran.”
“I ran from the equivalent of a dragon,” Mike retorts.
“You ran from a person with a bag and a glare.”
“I ran from a person with a bag, a glare, a sniper rifle, a baton, and a shitload of knives.”
Will shoves his face directly into Mike’s chest and exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, ensuring Mike will feel it. Will immediately feels Mike’s shoulders begin to shake, and Will takes that as a win.
“Sure you did,” Will says eventually, adding to the eye roll.
“Exactly, I did, so…” Mike trails off, fingers still tangled in Will’s hair.
“So…” Will tacks on, useless.
“So,” Mike repeats. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward.”
“Hmm,” Will hums, smiling into Mike’s chest. “Not sure. You got a reward in mind, Wheeler?”
“I don’t know,” Mike answers, voice soft and fond and dripping with an amount of affection that makes Will want to scream into his hands. Mike leans over, lips just barely ghosting the shell of Will’s ear as he quietly—incredibly quietly—adds, “Do you, Byers?”
“Depends,” Will responds, tone of voice matching Mike’s own before adding, with a smile that is surely going to be the death of him, “Are you going to change my contact name from Squilliam fucking Fancyson?”
Mike snorts again, seemingly not expecting a response of this genre.
“God, no,” Mike responds through his choked laughter. “You’re staying as Squilliam Fancyson as long as I’m staying as Exotic Butters.”
“Well,” Will starts, shifting himself on Mike’s chest to be more upright before leaning back slightly. “Fair enough.”
Will doesn’t give Mike the opportunity to react before he’s cupping his face in his hands and finally—finally—connecting their lips. Mike hums a surprised acknowledgement before immediately melting into it. The kiss is warm, soft (despite Mike’s very chapped lips), slow, gentle, warm. It’s all Will’s been wanting all night. All he’s been wanting his whole life. Which is kind of dumb, considering he gets this every day now, but it’s true. No amount of time, or kisses, or anything is going to change that fact.
Neither of them tries to escalate the kiss. Neither of them want to. They just enjoy the simple, easy pleasure they manage to find in smushing their lips together. It’s the type of soft pleasure that can easily be replaced with an entirely different—but still welcome—one if either of them begins to smile too hard into it. Because then the other would mirror that smile, causing their lips to part, and their teeth to clank. And if their teeth start to clank, they’ll slowly start to dissolve into giggles whilst still pecking small, short-lived kisses directly into the others teeth. And if that were to start happening, one of them might be met with the urge to duck their head, or move to the side, causing the other to steady this hypothetical person’s face in their hands before moving to pepper kisses all across the expanse of their cheeks.
Except none of that was a hypothetical (obviously), and Mike Wheeler is currently peppering kisses all across the expanse of not only Will Byers’ cheeks, but his whole face—each and every one accentuated with an exaggerated, ‘Mwah!’
They’re both still giggling helplessly. Both still tangled up in each other. Both still hovering on the edge of sleep, knowing that they’ve got classes in at least five hours from now, but still not wanting to give up this night as though they won’t be able to have a thousand more just like it.
And then a pillow hits the side of Will’s head.
Both boys freeze for a second, and then turn to face the direction of which the pillow had come from.
Where they’re met with the face of a very annoyed Dustin Henderson.
“Guys,” Dustin’s voice cuts through the sudden silence, whisper shouting. Mike and Will blink at him in sync. “Please,” he continues, clearly repressing the urge to slam his head through the wall behind him before grabbing another pillow—because he insists on sleeping with three of them. “Shut,” he throws the pillow, and it hits Mike directly in the face. Will’s laugh comes up halfway out of his throat. Mike kicks his foot. “Up,” Dustin finishes, throwing a Squishmallow—Will’s Squishmallow (that’s actually El’s)—at the wall behind them to properly punctuate the sentence, before adding a louder, but still technically whispered, “And go to sleep!”
He continues to mutter something under his breath about them being ‘insufferable idiots who never should’ve gotten their shit together,’ before very dramatically turning to the wall away from them, pressing the pillow he has left over the side of his head, and then throwing his blanket over his head entirely.
Mike and Will don’t move for a long moment after that. They just stare at the lump of Dustin where he lies beneath his blanket. Will isn’t sure how long exactly it is that they stay like that, but Mike’s the first to move. Because of course he is.
He huffs out a quiet, barely apologetic laugh, before shaking his head slightly and carefully shifting beneath the blankets. Now comfortable, with their legs still hooked around each other, Mike drags Will back against him, slow and gentle, right up until Will’s cheek is planted firmly, safely, lovingly against his chest again. They’ve slotted right back into the position they were in before they started kissing, and as a result, waking Dustin. Whose snores have already started to fill the room again. Despite the smile tugging on his lips, Will represses another eye roll.
His thoughts don’t stay on the noise for long, though. Mike’s heartbeat being a much more peaceful sound. Familiar, soft, real. Will’s eyes drift close again, this time with the intent to give in to his mind and body’s desires as Mike’s hands find their way back into Will’s hair, drawing patterns into his scalp with his fingers and causing the very last bits of tension still in Will’s shoulders to drain out.
Will feels his breathing start to even out, and feels sleep start to creep its way in—slow, heavy, and warm. It only seems to feel this way when Mike’s next to him as he welcomes it.
Right before he’s about to fully slip under, Mike’s voice murmurs into his hair. So soft, so quiet, and so gentle that it barely even registers.
“I love you.”
The words are warm, certain, and unguarded in a way that Mike only ever is when he thinks no one can actually hear him. When he himself is too tired to form proper thoughts, and thinks Will has already nodded off. That seems to be the only time he properly allows for his voice to ooze with the amount of pure love and adoration his heart always feels. It’s not that he doesn’t want to admit so much with only his voice, he just doesn’t realise he’s capable of it. Is unaware of the fact he does it.
Will’s lips twitch.
Just barely.
And he doesn’t open his eyes, nor does he lift his head, but he shifts an impossible fraction closer to Mike, smug and content, before allowing the slight smirk on his lips to bleed into his voice when he softly, quietly, and smugly responds to the boy who’s still playing with his hair.
“I know.”
And then he’s out.