#let mike wheeler be charmed and flustered!!!!

[astrobei]

hey :) so i was wondering if you could incorporate 3, 12 and 50 into a single one shot ? bc that would be Amazing but if you don't want you you can just pick whichever haha

challenge accepted !! this was super fun to write thank you !! :^)

3, 12, and 50 for touch prompts: hiding face in neck + pushing a strand of hair behind their ear + putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

If you’d asked Mike, a few years ago, how he thought he’d end up dying, he’d have a few different guesses. Clawed to death by monsters, maybe, was up at the top of his list for a while there. Shot to death by government agents also made the top five more than once, which was kind of worrying. And it was probably very concerning that getting stomped on, impaled, or eaten by an alien supermonster hivemind was on there at all.

Suffice it to say that he didn’t die in any of those ways, since Mike is currently, in the present moment, alive. But probably not for long. He’s seen some shit, and he hasn’t even graduated college, and maybe it’s a little bit pathetic that after all of that– the monsters and the Russians and the end of the world– that this is how he really dies: backed up against the wall at some completely questionable house party, being flirted with by Will Byers.

At least, that’s what Mike thinks is going on here. If he’s being totally honest, he doesn’t have all that much experience in the flirting department, considering that the one person he’d ever dated hadn’t done much flirting and the one person he had maybe wanted to flirt with hadn’t–

Well, it doesn’t matter. Said person is doing it now, and for all of Mike’s past reminiscence and speculation on the topic, he didn’t think it would be happening like this.

“You look nice tonight,” Will is saying, barely audible over the low thrum of music in the background. They’re not even somewhere particularly loud– the hallway is a blessed reprieve from the chaos of whatever is happening in the living room, but Will’s voice has dropped into something low and intentional. He smiles. “You should wear more green.”

Oh, god. Mike is going to die.

“Uh. Really?” he says, in what’s definitely not a squeak. It comes out assured and confident and–

Oh, who is he kidding? Will’s smile grows, surely delighted at the unfortunate crack in Mike’s voice. He leans in a bit closer, and it’s barely a few inches, but he might as well have just pushed Mike up against the wall and–

“Yeah,” Will whispers, so soft that Mike has to lean in another inch to hear him. He reaches a hand out and runs a thumb along the hem of Mike’s sweater, the side of his wrist brushing softly against Mike’s collarbone. Mike’s heart stops dead, still and unmoving and seized up, right there in his chest cavity. “It’s definitely your color.”

“Oh,” Mike breathes, and yeah.

So Will might be flirting with him, is the bottom line here, and the issue isn’t so much that it’s unwelcome– the opposite, in fact. Mike feels a little bit like if he weren’t caged in by Will’s arm on one side of his chest and the adjacent wall on the other, then his soul might be just flying right out of his body altogether. It feels like maybe it’s already halfway there, because Will’s gaze is steady, eyes sparkling with amusement even in the dim light of the hallway, and wow, are his hands shaking?

For his own sake, he hopes not. 

And the issue isn’t that it’s unwelcome, but more so that in all his years of existence and all the crazy shit he’s seen, somehow, being flirted with by Will Byers was lower on the list of things Mike thought might happen to him someday than interdimensional portals or his telekinetically gifted ex-girlfriend.

“You look nice too,” Mike gets out, in a surprisingly even voice. Will does look nice, so this isn’t a difficult sentiment to portray by any means. He’s swapped out one of his usual sweaters, big and worn comfortably around the edges and all down the seams, for something a little more fitted. It’s a soft cream color, and Mike doesn’t know where Will got this, because he’s been shopping at the same stores the entire time since they moved here for school and none of them carry clothes like this. Mature, a little grown up, and really, really attractive.

Will lets out a small, pleased noise. “Yeah?”

“How many drinks have you had?” Mike peers suspiciously down at him, because it’s not like Will is an idiot, per se, or super uptight about these sorts of things, but he’s not usually this– this bold. If Mike is going to be blunt about it, Will has never been this bold before and maybe it’s about time, but that doesn’t mean Mike is any more ready for it.

Not that he’s complaining. Oh, god.

“One,” Will grins. “Why? How many have you had?”

Christ. Mike swallows, and says, “Like, half. It was nasty so I just– um. Left it there. Heads up, by the way, don’t drink the jungle juice.”

“Noted,” Will laughs. It does something to Mike’s stomach, watching the way his shoulders relax, like he’s comfortable and at ease here, standing in front of Mike all up close and personal in a dark corner of a dark hallway with– oh, god– no one around.

“Yeah,” Mike says, kind of lamely, and notices belatedly that his gaze has settled somewhere around the general vicinity of Will’s mouth sometime in the last forty seconds or so. Maybe longer, if he’s being totally honest, but who’s counting, right?

(Mike. Mike is counting.)

“So anyway,” Will continues, without missing a beat. “You look really good in green. I don’t know why you never wear colors.”

“It’s not on purpose,” Mike insists, even though it kind of is, because it’s a lot harder to accidentally look like an idiot if all of your clothes match by default. “I don’t know, I just– I don’t have a reason to?”

“Okay, well,” Will starts, and then he moves forward until their chests are almost flush against each other, and Mike is seriously, seriously backed into a corner, even more than he was before. Both metaphorically and extremely literally. “It looks nice with your hair,” Will murmurs, and reaches a hand up to tug lightly at a strand falling loose around Mike’s face.

Will smells really nice, actually, like the good cologne he wears on special occasions, and Mike doesn’t know why he dressed up so nice to go to a party where you have to scoop your drinks out of a bowl with a red plastic cup, but hey. Again, he’s not complaining.

“My– my hair?” Mike asks faintly, because it’s just his hair, and he hasn’t ever given it much thought before now, because it’s only hair. Black and just long enough to land on this side of inconvenient, but suddenly Will has one hand in it and it’s not just hair anymore, but maybe the best thing to ever happen to him.

Will nods. He looks a little pink, which is quite possibly the most endearing thing Mike has ever seen, and it’s also more of a confidence booster than it probably should be, that Will hasn’t turned into a total smooth-talking Casanova out of literally nowhere. That maybe he’s losing his shit just as much as Mike is right now.

“Yeah,” Will says, and yeah, his voice catches just a little bit on the single syllable, and Mike bites back a pleased smile. “It looks really good with your hair,” he says again, then tucks the loose strand carefully behind Mike’s ear. “So that’s one reason.”

“I hardly think that’s good enough reason to redo my entire wardrobe,” Mike says, egged on just a little bit by the way Will is definitely turning more pink by the second.

“It brings out your eyes too,” Will murmurs, looking steadily up at him. It’s hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking– half his face is drowned out in shadow and the proximity is rendering Mike kind of useless altogether– but Mike thinks maybe he has a guess.

He blinks. “My eyes?”

“Mhm.” Will strokes the pad of one thumb over the skin there, just over his cheekbone. Mike instantly forgets how to breathe. Christ. “They’re pretty.”

“I– are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Stone-cold sober,” Will assures him. “Why? Who’s asking?”

Me, Mike thinks, me, me, me. What he says is, “Um. Someone.”

Will raises an eyebrow, but he keeps his hand right where it is– resting on Mike’s cheek, thumb under his eye, and oh, god. Mike is going to die. 

“Someone?”

“You don’t know him?” Mike tries.

“Shame,” Will says noncommittally, and it sounds like he might be on the verge of laughing again. He steps back, the vacuum-seal proximity between their bodies vanishing in an instant as the air of the room rushes in all at once– stifling, stuffy, a little warm and sweaty and immediately, it’s like the noise in the place has been cranked up to ten.

Was it this loud in here all along?

Mike is going to scream. He’s going to die, right here in the hallway, and then he’s going to scream some more. “Where are you going?” he asks, and it comes out a bit petulant and a bit needy and way, way too thrown off-guard for his liking, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The lingering warmth of Will’s palm against his cheek is something he’s already missing like it’s a physical thing.

“Who’s asking?” Will says again, and dear god, if Mike had known before what it would have been like to be flirted with Will Byers, he would have, like, grabbed a couple witnesses and signed off an early copy of his last will and testament, bequeathed his meager belongings to whomever they may concern, then laid himself down to die in peace.

“Me,” Mike blurts out this time, taking a step forward from the wall and grabbing Will’s wrist. “I’m asking because I think you shouldn’t go and you should just stay here with me and– and flirt with me some more, because, um. That was nice, and I liked that, even if I thought I was going to die for a minute there, and if you go then– um. You can’t flirt with me anymore?”

Will smiles for real this time, wide and shocked and pleased. “Yeah?” And it’s a little shy when he says it, like maybe he didn’t actually expect this to go anywhere, like he didn’t expect Mike to grow a fucking pair and stop melting into the floor long enough to reciprocate.

“Yeah,” Mike whispers, and he’s just started to pull Will back towards him, Will already stumbling a little with the motion, when he hears a voice from around the doorframe they’re currently maybe ten feet away from.

“Mike? Will?”

“Shit,” Will mutters, eyes wide. “What the hell is Max doing here? I thought she was upstairs.”

Mike opens his mouth to answer when a second voice responds, “I swear I saw them go through here,” and it might be Dustin and it might be Lucas but all that’s really important is that whoever it is is close, and Mike doesn’t know if he has the cardiac strength in him to go through all of this again later, and all of his brainpower is currently being used to not pass out on the spot, and–

Lucky for him, Will has his shit marginally more together. “Here,” he’s saying, then there are fingers wrapping around Mike’s forearm and before he can fully process what’s happening, he’s being dragged in the opposite direction. Will throws open a door, then shoves Mike inside.

Mike wrinkles his nose. “It smells like feet in here,” he says, and he can’t see Will’s face because it’s pitch black in– wherever they are– but he’s willing to bet real money that he’s rolling his eyes.

“Coat closet,” Will says simply, “now shut up.”

Okay, yeah, makes sense. There’s something heavy and soft brushing up against Mike’s side, and he takes a couple steps backwards until he can feel the wall behind him. God, okay. This is fine. This is fine. This is–

“You know,” Mike says, as if this will distract him from his unnecessarily sweaty palms, “you didn’t have to ambush–”

Quick as lightning, Will claps a hand over Mike’s mouth. “If you want to kiss me,” Will hisses, and, okay, he’s pressed up against Mike again, which is fine, it’s great, actually– “I’m going to need you to shut up.”

The footsteps come closer. Mike holds his breath. He thinks maybe Will is too because he can’t hear him breathe, and he’s gone tense and still where he’s pressed up against Mike. A voice that’s definitely Dustin’s is grumbling, “Man, if I find them and the taco place down the street is already closed, I’m going to kill him.”

Mike bites back a laugh. The taco place closed twenty minutes ago, which he knows, because he’d been on his way to find Dustin when he’d– when he’d run into Will in the hallway.

Oh, god.

“Are they gone?” Will whispers, as if his hand is not currently over Mike’s mouth. He clears his throat like hello, and Will drops his hand. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“Who said I wanted to kiss you,” Mike says hoarsely, and Will’s hand pauses somewhere between his collarbone and sternum.

“Well,” he hears Will say, still entirely invisible in the dark save for a few dots of faint light coming in through the slats in the door. “You don’t have to kiss me. If you don’t want to.”

For the first time all evening, Will sounds a little hesitant. No, Mike thinks. He can’t have that. He shakes his head, even though Will can’t see him. “Let’s not be too hasty here, okay, I didn’t say that.”

A pause. “Yeah?” Will says, a little shy, almost. “You want to kiss me?”

Screw it. 

“I do,” Mike says, as earnestly as he can find in himself to muster up, and he hears Will breathe in sharply somewhere in front of him. “I really, really want to–”

To Will’s credit, kissing in the dark probably wouldn’t work out for anybody. Mike is a few inches taller and the angle is a bit off, and it’s pretty impressive, if he’s being honest, that Will’s mouth lands mostly on his. Which should also not be rendering Mike as totally speechless as it is– being kissed on the corner of his lips in an awkward, clumsily endearing sort of way– but Will has always surprised him. “Shit,” Will says, pulling back slightly, “sorry, I was trying to guess where you were, and I–”

“It’s cool,” Mike hears himself say, and he didn’t mean to say it, but it seems that his brain has sort of kicked itself into autopilot mode, because he’s reaching out before he can really think about what he’s doing. His hand brushes Will’s shoulder, and he moves it up against the side of his neck, and says, hesitating, “Here– let’s try this.”

“Okay,” Will says softly, not even a whisper with how quiet it comes out. Mike drags a hand into Will’s hair, brings the other one to cup his cheek, and slowly, slowly moves forward.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Mike murmurs, tracing a thumb over the curve of Will’s lower lip, grounding himself. “Um. Just so you know that I’m, like, coming in.”

“Okay,” Will says again, and then Mike kisses him.

It’s instantly better this time– so much better, Mike thinks, immediately going lightheaded with the sensation of it. It’s like every other sense is dialed up to eleven in the dark– Will’s hair soft against his hand, the scent of his cologne, the faint taste of orange soda on his lips. The soft, startled noise Will makes in the back of his throat, cut off like it escaped him before he could stop himself, and that thought is enough to make Mike’s stomach swoop in a dizzying sort of way, that Will really wanted to kiss him so badly that he just couldn’t help himself, that maybe he thought about it in all the same ways Mike had. That maybe he came up with a hundred and one ways it might happen and maybe this was a possibility, in Will’s mind– a coat closet in the dark, barely one drink in.

“I can’t see you,” Will says, pulling back so that their lips are just barely brushing against each other. He’s got his hands on either side of Mike’s neck, like he’s anchoring himself lest he drift away entirely in the dark.

Mike lowers his hands, pulls Will in by the waist– the solid planes of his back, the soft fabric of this sweater, this goddamn sweater– and says, “You’re the one that kissed me in the dark, you idiot.”

Will makes a small noise of affront. “You’re the one that asked me to,” he says, a little smugly, which technically isn’t the most true statement, but Mike supposes that he had kind of set himself up to be kissed, so maybe he should let this one slide. And then Will runs a thumb along to his chin, tilts his face down, slowly, slowly, and kisses him again– and Mike can’t remember what exactly it was he was protesting.

Maybe Will had been onto something, because Mike is pretty chuffed about not being able to actually see the person he’s kissing, especially when that person is Will, who Mike spent a disproportionate amount of time wanting to look at even before this whole thing went down, but this is pretty nice for now, he thinks, as Will presses him a little more firmly into the wall. And that’s also nice, because Mike thinks he might be dying, and the solid parallel weights of the wall behind him and Will in front of him might be the only thing keeping him from keeling over entirely.

“Okay,” Mike says, pulling back, which is nowhere close to his top ten most intelligent moments of all time. Or even twenty, maybe. “You–”

The rest of the sentence gets lost to the sands of time, because the door is flying open so fast that Will flinches, and Mike tightens his grip around his waist on instinct. “What–”

“Oh,” Max Mayfield is saying, arms crossed. “This is where you two disappeared to.”

Mike closes his eyes, and prays to whichever higher power might be listening for a rapid, painless death.

Nothing happens. Figures.

“Come on, man,” he hears Dustin say, “we were looking for you guys!”

“We know,” Mike says, and then immediately wants to sink through the floor and disappear at the way his voice cracks, just a little. It’s barely noticeable, really, but his friends are like sharks in blood-infested waters. Lucas’ smug grin grows so wide that Mike considers just leaning over and smacking it off his face.

“Oh,” he says, far too gleefully for Mike’s liking, “so is this what you meant by I’m going to go look for Dustin, Mike?”

“Didn’t realize I took up residence near Will’s tonsils,” Dustin grumbles.

Will groans, dropping his head to Mike’s shoulder. “Never talk about my tonsils again,” he mumbles against Mike’s collarbone, but he’s smiling. Mike can tell, even if he can’t see him.

“Not even if they’re inflamed?”

Will doesn’t pull away, just shakes his head and tightens his arms where they’re wrapped around Mike’s neck. Despite himself, despite the way his face feels about a million degrees warm right now, Mike smiles. “No,” Will says simply. “All of you go away.”

“Yeah, I bet you want us to,” Max says, “but I’m serious. We gotta go. Someone just threw up on the couch and it’s nasty in there.”

Mike wrinkles his nose. “Way to kill the mood.”

“Mission accomplished,” Max says, and wiggles her car keys in the air. “I’m leaving in five, with or without you.”

“I don’t want to stay here with the puke sofa,” Mike admits, pulling away with no small amount of reluctance. “So we should probably–”

“Yeah,” Will agrees, pressing a kiss to Mike’s cheek. “Now come on. I want to be able to see you when I kiss you this time.”

It’s a good thing the hallway is still dark, because Mike goes very, very red.

#oh this was so fun #tension my beloved #thank u for this prompt i did giggle like a maniac the entire time i wrote it #the world needs more flirty confident will byers i think #who cares if this is ooc it's MY canon !!! #let mike wheeler be charmed and flustered!!!! #let him be wooed and reduced to a blushing mess!!!! #it's what he deserves!! #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fic #fun sized fics

[chronicrabbit]

Ok, but

Imagine Gareth getting ABSOLUTELY FED UP with watching Eddie and Steve moon over each other, convinced that it’s hopeless and completely oblivious that their feelings are, in fact, 100% mutual.

So he hatches a plan to, let’s say, hurry things along.

It’s a Hellfire Night. All are in attendance in the Wheeler’s basement, including- of course- Steve Harrington himself.

The ex-jock had finally quit pretending he’d rather be elsewhere, allowing himself to watch the session unfold with obvious interest.

It was hard not to be interested in Eddie’s narratives.

They were playing a one shot as Eddie’s larger campaign was still in the works.

Their party had just stopped off to rest in a tavern and stock up on supplies, the perfect place for Gareth to put his plan into action.

“I’d like to look for some company for the night,” he stated, fixing Eddie with a smirk.

As expected, Eddie didn’t so much as blink as the rest of the party burst into giggles, leaning over the table with a smirk of his own.

“Very well. Roll perception for me.”

Gareth does, proudly calling out a 17.

Eddie nods.

“You glance toward the mostly empty bar where the barkeep is pouring a glass of fine wine for a fair elven maiden. Her hair seems to glow a pale golden hue, and-“

“Tell me about the barkeep. What does he look like?”

Eddie’s eyebrows quirk, the first sign that he’s maybe catching on to Gareth’s intentions.

Still, he continues on.

“He’s… a half elf with dark hair and eyes, and a pale scar bisecting his face.”

“Is he handsome?” Gareth presses, earning a further raised brow from Eddie.

“He’s a half elf,” the DM replies dryly.

Gareth grins.

“I approach the barkeep with a charming smile, leaning on the bar and tossing down a couple gold pieces from the pouch on my belt.

“A flagon of mead, if you please.”

Gareth attempts to school his expression into something flirtatious.

Eddie snorts but pulls himself together fast, falling into character with the ease and practice of a master.

“That’s a rather bold display of wealth, hero. You should be cautious lest someone try to take that from you,” he says in a smooth tone.

Steve straightens in his seat, his interest very clearly piqued.

It’s almost too easy.

“Is that a threat?” Gareth says in a low voice, his smirk widening.

Eddie presses a hand to his heart, feigning very mild offense tinged with amusement.

“Not at all. Simply advice. This is a dangerous town after all.”

“Pity,” Gareth shrugs, leaning his elbow against the table and meeting Eddie’s gaze dead on.

“I wouldn’t have minded a threat from one as fair as you.”

“Roll charisma,” Eddie orders, eyes twinkling with mirth as Gareth snatches up his d20 and shakes it in his fist.

He can see Steve from the corner of his eye, doing his utmost to look unaffected, but Gareth could tell he was some sort of flustered if the way he was shifting restlessly in his seat was anything to go by.

Delightful.

Gareth takes in a breath before he looks down at his die.

“Nat 20, baby,” he announces much to the wild amusement of the party.

Eddie raises his hands to cease the excited chatter, leaning in on both elbows to meet Gareth’s gaze with a positively sultry look of his own, large eyes half lidded, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Would you not?” he questions with a mockingly innocent tone, tilting his head so his dark curls fall down over one shoulder.

“Threats are not typically well looked upon unless you have a- heh- preference toward punishment.”

As Mike and Lucas snicker, Gareth watches Steve.

His cheeks are tinged a noticeable pink, his eyes glued to the carpet beneath his shoes as if it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

Can’t have that.

Gareth decides to up the ante.

“And what if I do? What advice have you for that, fair one?”

Eddie eyes him up and down in character, leaning in even closer until he’s inches from Gareth’s face.

“The barkeep looks you up and down consideringly. He seems to like what he sees as he slams down your flagon of mead and pushes it and your gold over toward you.

“I would advise you finish your drink and head up to your room for the night,” Eddie finishes with a sly and salacious smirk, taking hold of Gareth’s chin with his calloused fingers.

“I’ll find you when I want you.”

And there it was.

Steve Harrington’s breaking point.

Steve stands quietly from his spot in the couch, muttering a quick excuse before rushing up the steps and out of the basement.

No one else seems to notice but Gareth.

It’s not long after Steve’s hasty retreat that Eddie calls for a break, everyone dispersing to seek out snacks and bladder relief.

Gareth makes his way upstairs after relieving himself, intent on rewarding his hard work with a slice of Mrs. Wheeler’s chocolate cake when a sound from outside catches his attention.

He approaches the window overlooking the backyard, slowly pulling the curtain aside to see…

Steve Harrington pinned against the side of the house with an armful of Eddie, their mouths connected in the most aggressive kiss Gareth has ever seen.

It looks like they’re trying their damnedest to eat each other, Eddie’s hands tangled in Steve’s hair, Steve’s shoved up the back of Eddie’s shirt.

Gareth holds back a snort at the loud thump that sounds as Eddie shoves his thigh between Steve’s legs, the ex-jock’s head smacking against the side of the house as he lets out a low groan.

With a self-satisfied grin, Gareth pulls the curtains closed once more, slices himself a nice big piece of cake, and trots back down the stairs to the rest of the party, pre-preparing an explanation for what exactly was keeping their DM.

The End 🖤

~Rabbit 🐇

#steddie ficlet #steddie fic #Steddie #steveddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #gareth emerson #my love #my sweet baby #I love that little metal man #he has t boy swag and you can’t tell me different

[smoosnoom]

dear moon smoosnoom,

i think i should stop sending u this daily compliment and start sending u daily remittances bc there’s no way u let us read ur fics for free.

u also published ur work the minute my class started so it's ur fault that i couldn't say a word in italian about gender equality (i forgave u the moment i read the first sentence).

anyway i have to stop mumbling cause i have a lots of thoughts about “mike wheeler's guide to falling in love with a superhero”.

i started giggling from the first line. mike wheeler is a vivid example of cringefail loser and i really wanna know what aunt janine did (there must be something REALLY bad since she's on the list next to the mosquitoes).

i love how everyone has already come to terms with the constant fights of superheroes and villains and don’t pay attention to them until their lives are in danger.

i love that mike is always late whether superheroes are involved or not.

i love that mike with spiderman and mike with will are two different mikes. the first is slightly vicious with his dislike of superheroes and causticity and the second is just a guy who can't make a complete sentence in front of a charming neighbor (it’s me. hi. it’s me then i try to write u smth cute but not cringy). will must be so confused lmfaooo good thing he likes both mikes.

and it’s a good thing that mike likes will’s both hypostasis. i like that they r still first of all friends with common interests and only then fools in love.

i also love that mike is not a complete idiot. the fact that he realized that will is a spiderman almost immediately (here he figured out who’s will faster than he understands that he likes guys in some fics). and the fact that he didn’t kiss him in a costume.

mike wheeler extolled his partners all his life in order to eventually fall in love with a superhero. he’s a loser but he’s my loser.

i love that mike wanted to make things right so he brought will flowers. and he wanted to like wait until their real date to kiss him 🥺 and why is will surprised that mike knows?? honey not that you hid it very well.

and the upside down kiss! it’s must be so inconvenient but it’s so iconic.

i wanted to share my favorite quotes but there r so many of them… so here’s the one that made me giggle to tears: “They sit together in a cafe, after Dustin finally finds a free Monday afternoon from his job of being a director, Nobel Physiology Prize winner, entrepreneur, and his ongoing quest to achieve world peace, and Mike had finally felt strangely sociable, agreeing to meet up and chat.”

i think i should write u another poem just to show u how much i love u and talented u r.

love, daily anon 🤍

dear daily anonymous,

icant believe even a little anyone wants to read anything i write !!!!! id be insane to charge anyone anything, altho i am incredibly Broke . speaking italian is so crazy cool, im also bilingual !!!! would love to hear ur thoughts abt gender equality, altho idk how much i would understand :]

i made u giggle !!!!!! everyone cheered !!!!!!!!!!! aunt janine has done unspeakable actions that he would rather not mention right now, thank u, and she should be glad to be placed next to Mosquitos !!!!

i do think new york is a "mind ur business" kind of place, at least from what ive seen during my stay there, and mike does seem the sort to always be a little late and a little flustered around his attractive neighbor (just the one) (and don't worry i think ur plenty charming 🫶)

yes yes !!!! i always think friendship is the best foundation for a romantic relationship :)

mike is one of the smartest ppl in the show !!!! he's great at spotting patterns and i think he would be so so quick to pick up on will being spiderman !!! (and that's so true omg i love realization fics but im also very impatient !!!)

mike wheeler the hypocrite that u are 🫶🫶🫶

yeyes despite it all mike is a sap !! and he wants to do it all right !!!! LOLL give will some credit, altho it's not like will Wanted mike to figure it out haha that would be Crazy ...... 👁👁

i remember watching the upskde down kiss when i was like . three . and being so confused i had no concept of who or what spiderman was 😭 but it still stuck with me so many years later !!!

im soso happy u liked it !!!! ur opinion means the world to me and i cherish it very much, so thank u for reading it !!!!! i might write u a sonnet next time

love, moon smoosnoom 🫂

#/ask #daily alya #ya this is an essay of a reply but idc !!! only the best for daily anon !!!!!!

[stuck-in-hawkins]

October 28th, 1993- Reunion

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Pairing: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656785/chapters/60958708

Will felt completely exposed. He just stood there breathless, staring, with his heart pounding a mile a minute.

Mike stood up from the couch, with that big beautiful smile. Before Will could pick his jaw off the floor, Mike was over to him in a few strides and had wrapped his long arms around him in a hug. Will was trying to process it all, but thoughts, sensations, and memories were crashing like waves against the shore and he could barely keep up.

His senses taking in all the familiar and new with Mike. How there seemed to be a place that Will just instinctively locked into in the embrace. The secure pressure of his arms wrapped around, the scent of some new cologne or deodorant that combined with the familiar smell of Mike that he could never quite pinpoint. There was the feeling of being small in his arms, and an onslaught of memories that beckoned. Will knew he’d lose himself in them if he dwelled but there would be time for that later. It just felt so good to be held by Mike again.

“Hey, Will.”

Will’s mind commanded, ‘Say something!’ He needed to recover so that he didn’t look like some lovesick puppy. But he was still taking everything in. He had only seen Mike a handful of times since leaving for college. He wasn’t used to how wide his shoulders were or how soft he’d gotten. Since 7th grade, Mike had been a beanpole, tall, bony. But now, all his edges were softened. He even had a bit of a belly. Will’s arms wrapped around Mike and felt… hair? Mike had a ponytail.

“Hey, hippie.” He pulled back from the hug. There were curls in the front of his face that were still too short to reach but it was plain as day: he had a ponytail. Will chuckled, “Since when did you decide to do a ponytail?”

“Since the last time the barber hacked off my hair.”

Will laughed, “You mean that buzz cut? That was two years ago!”

“Yep.” He took the hair in hand and flopped it so that it rested on his shoulder. It was a little past his shoulder. “This stuff grows like weeds.”

“Well, I’m still betting you’ll be the first to go bald.”

Mike held his hands up. “Don’t curse me like that, Will.”

“Sorry, but only models can have hair this perfect without paying for it later.” He hadn’t meant to, but he touched Mike’s hair as he said it. This would have been fine if he had just played it off. But, when he realized where his hand was, he drew it back so hard he hit himself in the chest.

Will thought, ‘Oh dear, God. Could you be any more obvious, Will Byers?’

And there it was, beneath the familiarity and laughter of friends, all the intimacy that had come during that time. The memory of being someone else’s other half was still ingrained in his every motion. The pathways in his brain had been carved out with each touch and a wall had come down. It could only be held up with conscious effort.

The motion was not lost on Mike and there was a recognition that crossed his face. But Mike smiled. Was it sympathetic, guilty, or just awkward? Will couldn’t tell. He mentally scolded his cheeks, trying to forbid them from blushing. But he could feel the heat rising. He hated being such an open book.

Mike broke the silence, “You always work on Sundays? Busy life on the prop scene?”

Will felt instant relief. Work was a safe topic. “It has peaks and troughs. Right now, I’m working on a bit of a passion project, making a monster.”

“Wait! Holy shit, like for a movie? What one??”

“It’s not for a movie, per say. It’s more like a talent scouting thing.”

Dustin interjected, “He couldn’t tell us, even if it was for one.”

Mike turned, “So you don’t badger him for info, then. Right, Dustin?”

“Uhh. Do you even know me, Mike? Of course, I do! He’s got to crack at some point.”

Will watched the way Mike’s eyes crinkled with those familiar laugh lines. And without even trying, Mike had made Will fall for him all over again. A part of him wanted to fight it, to just be happy with being friends. He wanted to save himself from the hurt that would follow. But this love was a familiar and warm embrace. It woke him up from the pain of that morning’s rejection. It was hope.

Mike was here for the first time in years. He was within reach again. He was gorgeous and smiling. But why was he there? What brought him out to Burbank after so long?

“When did you get in?”

“I think my plane landed at… 3?”

Dustin added, “Yeah. About then.”

“Feeling any jet lag?”

“For that crazy three hour difference?” He laughed. “It’ll probably just feel like a long day. I’m hoping that I can power through until 10.”

“Sounds like a late night for you, old man.”

Mike smirked, playfully, “Listen, just because you are some cool Hollywood cat now,” he poked Will in the stomach. Today of all days, he was wearing his crop top. And the contact was direct, skin on skin, Mike’s fingertips in his stomach for the briefest of seconds. Will felt his heart leap inside him. Mike did a double take looking at his mid drift, which had clear muscle tone. “And apparently working out?” Mike was astounded.

Will flustered, waving his arms, “I’m not like a musclehead, or anything! It’s just a thing I do with my friends from work.”

Dustin leered, “Don’t listen to him, Mike. It’s ‘cause he’s single and trying to bring home a beefcake.”

Will’s head snapped to Dustin. He was getting redder by the minute, “What the fuck, Dustin? BEEFcake?”

“Listen, you can’t bring home gorgeous men and me not talk about it. Seriously, Mike, these guys are all 10’s.” He winked.

Will was staring daggers at him, “I am never making you breakfast again.”

“WAIT! No!” He stretched his arm out, “I’m sorry!! I take it back.”

“Too late. It’s Captain Crunch for you from now on.”

Dustin groaned, and flopped over the couch, defeated. Will’s eyes flicked over to Mike and saw him suddenly self-conscious.

Mike caught his gaze and said, somewhat sheepishly, “I can’t say I’m really surprised, though. You're a catch, Will.” There was a sadness in it. As if Will was out of reach. As if he had been the one that got away.

The sincerity of it left Will speechless. Was he misinterpreting it? He wanted to let him know that the door hadn’t closed, but he didn’t want to be wrong and make things awkward. He’d clear the air later, when Dustin wasn’t there to watch. He couldn’t look at Mike’s face now.

He tugged the longer side of his hair behind his ear. A useless and nervous gesture, as the hair went right back in his face. “It’s not- I’m not-” He stopped himself. Take the compliment, he told himself. “Umm… thanks.”

Will saw Dustin smirking. Was he trying to play cupid? Will was going to chew him out the second he was alone. This was not something to play with.

Will desperately wanted to change the subject, “So, how are we going to show him the best California has to offer?”

“How about Gauman’s?”

Will shrugged, “Sounds good. What do you think, Mike?”

“That’s the place the Oscar’s are filmed at, right?” Mike asked.

“The very same. But, when there’s no Oscars or premiers it’s just a regular theater,” said Dustin.

Mike nodded. “Sounds awesome.” Will smiled seeing the childlike excitement on Mike’s face, the kind he used to get before a much anticipated movie or comic release. Will felt flutters and wondered if he would be coming down off of cloud nine anytime soon.

“Cool,” Will said. “I’ll go get dressed.” He needed to sort out everything going on inside his head.

Mike looked down at his own clothes, “Do we need to dress fancy or something?”

“Well, not exactly. You’re fine. But cut offs aren’t exactly something I wanna wear there.” He gestured at his own clothes.

Mike’s eyes flicked down and immediately looked away, his face beat red. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Will blushed. Holy fuck. They were both absolute disasters right now. He walked down the hallway to his room and flopped on the bed. Breathe. Why had Mike gotten so flustered? Why had he looked down? He could feel his stomach flipping at the suggestion in the question.

He had to calm down. But everything inside him felt like an amusement park, spinning, and jumping. How in the hell was he supposed to keep himself together? He had to wait until Mike was alone. It would be better to get it all out, clear the air. But what in the hell was he even supposed to say?

‘Hi, Mike! Nice to see you, by the way, I’m still in love with you. Is this a mutual thing? Or should I have gotten over all this years ago?’

He put the pillow over his head and groaned. He could get through this. At the very least, they would be in a theater. It was a familiar space, where they could forget everything else and just be the Party again, picking apart movies. Unravelling cinematography, digging up meaning, and concocting theories and Will could collect himself.   ______________________________

They bought tickets for Return of the Living Dead 3. It was one of those gritty B rated movies that the party had always loved tearing to shreds. After they gave Mike the unofficial tour around the handprints, they went inside and paid for their tickets. They were making their way past the various displays of movie props and costumes encased in glass when Will’s eye caught sight of something. He turned so fast he nearly got whiplash and made his way over to the case. Inside, there was a set up for Halloween: a town of monsters, each with unique and incredible designs. The setting looked like an ink drawing come to life, complete with the texture of hatching lines on the ground. This parade of characters was led by a charming skeleton in a Santa suit and a girl that looked like a cross between a rag doll and Frankenstein. He read the plaque beside it: The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“Don’t drool on the case, Will.” Dustin teased.

Mike came over, “What is it?”

“These are the stop motion puppets from the movie,” Will answered. He couldn’t take his eyes off the figures.

“Oh, Stop motion! Like the special effects for the older Hollywood films?” Mike asked.

“Or like Rudolph,” Dustin added.

Will stared, “It’s like a cross between the two. It’s completely embracing the horror aspect of the medium and combining it with the whole Christmas movie tradition.” He couldn’t get over the character designs, the idea behind it. The premise intrigued him and he desperately wanted to watch it.

“Should we see that one instead?” Mike suggested.

Will turned, “No! No. I’ll definitely have to come back to watch it though.”

Dustin leaned in, “We have to go see that movie with him, Mike. He’s gonna totally flip shit the whole time.”

Mike crossed his arms like he was studying Will, “You think like Labyrinth level freak out?”

“Hard to say,” Dustin retorted.

Will shook his head, “Nothing will be Labyrinth level freak out. That was a once in a lifetime movie. A high fantasy setting with elaborate backdrops and the most insane special effects featuring David Bowie as the Goblin King, himself.”

Dustin smirked, “Not to mention those pants.”

Will stood up, “Why does everyone always bring up the pants?”

“Because it was an enlightening experience. I finally understood what you see in men. And now I know with certainty that if Bowie were to ever ask I’d- OW!”

Will punched Dustin’s arm. “You’re not gonna finish that statement.”

Mike chimed in, “You know better than to speak blasphemy against The Thin White Duke around Will.”

Dustin played it up, soothing his wounded arm. “Aw, come on, Will. I didn’t mean it, I know you get first dibs.”

“How kind.”

They laughed as they went into the theatre together.   _________________________________________________

It was a tradition of theirs that following a movie showing, they would stand around the lobby and dissect it. However, since the theatre was getting crowded, Will suggested they relocate to the nearby diner. They began picking it apart in the car, shouting over one another the most grotesque or ridiculous parts. Will had the edge in these conversations now, because he could usually determine what exactly they used for certain effects. The guys enjoyed hearing Will’s insight into the behind the scenes techniques. Once they got in the diner and got their seats, the conversation quieted a bit and their ruminations became more well thought out. They cited different camera angles, acting, and plot points. It felt like old times.

After they ordered their food, Will asked, “So, Mike, how long are you in town for?”

“I’m staying for the week.”

Will almost dropped the fork he’d been messing with, “The whole week?!”

“Yeah, I have some vacation time that the boss told me I needed to use before December.”

“You didn’t want to save that for Christmas vacation?”

“Nah. A lot of families take that time off. School, you know?”

“That’s cool of you.”

Mike shrugged, “It’s just the decent thing, you know? El doesn’t really care about the holidays too much so I can be flexible.”

And a cloud swept over Mike’s face. Something he hadn’t wanted to bring up. Someone he didn’t want to mention. And Will could see him brace for the question.

Dustin asked, “How-?” He felt clumsy. “How is she doing?”

“She’s okay. She has her good days and her bad. I told you she lives with me now, right?”

Dustin nodded.

“That day I got my hair buzzed? Bad day.” He laughed it off, “I don’t think she recognized me for two weeks. The worst part? I actually bought a wig.”

Dustin nearly spit out his drink, “You what?”

Will laughed. “You didn’t!”

“Oh yeah. My first toupee. Looked like a fucking mop.”

Will joked, “Oh, please tell me you still have it. I’d pay money to see that.”

“No way. It’s haunting some thrift store now.”

Will shivered. “The worst thing to find there.”

Mike chuckled. He asked, “So, when is Lucas getting here?”

Will perked up, “What??”

Dustin suddenly looked awkward.

Mike turned, “Shit. Was that supposed to be a surprise? I thought he already knew.”

“No, it’s okay. Recover it! Surprise, Will!! Lucas will be here tomorrow!”

The smile on Will’s face could have lit up the city. He couldn’t contain his joy. His friends would be back together for the first time in so long. He didn’t see the way Mike was looking at him, the content smile and the eyes that just couldn’t get enough of Will’s warm glow.

Dustin was beaming, “Max will be picking him up and they’ll be staying at a hotel nearby.”

Will couldn’t believe it. “Dustin, did you put this all together?”

His friend got a little bashful and tried to shrug it off. “I mean… I just made a few calls. Lucas told me he’d be home in time for Halloween and I thought it was the perfect opportunity for a reunion.”

And then, something sank inside Will. Halloween. It had been ten years... Was that why Dustin was doing this? He coached himself, ‘Stop. Stop. Stop. Just enjoy this.’

He smiled. “It’ll be so good to see them again.”

The change wasn’t immediately visible to the guys.

Mike suddenly got excited, “Are we going to have a Halloween party or something to celebrate?”

Dustin answered giddy, “Oh, hell yeah! I mean we have the monster maker himself here!” He clapped Will on the back.

It shook Will out of his head. He saw how excited they were. Maybe this whole thing was orchestrated out of concern for Will, the thought of it stung his pride a bit. But then again, maybe it was the only way to get everyone together. The last time they had all been together had been when Hopper found El… She had been broken, disoriented, and wandering around New York City. The reunion had been one of grieving, trying to heal, and being there for Mike.

That was what going their separate ways had meant- only seeing each other for the big things: weddings and funerals so to speak. So, Will watched Mike and Dustin talking animatedly and let himself get caught up in it, too.

“As much as I’d like to bring the studio stuff home, I don’t think I could get it past Anderson. They get extra uptight at the shop with props and stuff around Halloween. Everyone wants to borrow stuff for their own parties. But I might be able to whip up something homemade.”

Dustin bragged to Mike, “It’s too bad you won’t get to see The Werehouse, Mike. It’s like a cinephile's wet dream. They have a full on werewolf! Fur and everything!”

Will asked, “Why wouldn’t he be able to go?”

“Because visitors are banned.”

“No, you are banned.”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m banned’???”

“You were touching literally everything!”

“And that was enough to get me banned?”

“You gave Scottie such agita, I thought she was going to have an aneurysm. Do you not remember her following you around, asking you to put things down?”

Dustin grimaced, “I got a little caught up. It was a lot to take in.”

Mike asked, “So, does this mean I get to go?”

The idea of showing Mike his work space was elating to Will. There was that familiar feeling that Will had everytime he handed Mike his sketchbook or a new drawing. The hope of approval and praise for his art.

Will eagerly nodded, “Just don’t touch anything.”

Mike smirked at Dustin, who groaned, “That is SO not fair!”

“Sorry, Dustin.” Mike shrugged as he scooted out of the booth.

Dustin pouted, “Are you, though?”

“Well, not really that sorry.” He laughed, “I’ll be right back.” Mike excused himself to the bathroom.

Once he was out of earshot, Will looked over at Dustin.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment but he had to ask. “Is there a particular reason you got us all together?”

“Because Lucas is coming home.”

“He was home a year ago. We didn’t get together then.”

Dustin’s shoulders sank and he started fidgeting with his napkin. “You said it yourself. It’s been too long. It was an excuse for us to get together. And… well, it has been 10 years...”

“You say it like it’s some kind of anniversary.”

“I mean, it kind of is. You making it out of all that alive is something to celebrate.” Dustin said it genuinely, his heart in his words, “We watched what we thought was you, pulled from the quarry. We listened to you calling out for help. It affected all of us, Will.”

Will suddenly felt selfish. He’d seen this whole thing as some kind of elaborate pity party, but he hadn’t been the only one to suffer. He hadn’t been the only one to face that thing.

But a question still nagged at him, “Did you tell anyone… about the nightmares?”

Dustin tightened and looked guilty. “Just Mike… he….”

“Dustin you promised!”

“I know. I know. But I was worried, Will! I didn’t know what to do.”

“There is nothing for you to do. It’s something that I’m handling.”

His friend looked at him, anger tempered in his brow, “They’ve gotten worse. Don’t tell me they haven’t.”

Will’s fingers dug into his knees, his knuckles turning white. He felt humiliated. It was true. They had been getting worse. It wasn’t so bad when he had someone sleeping next to him, but on the nights he was alone? There was a 50/50 shot at waking up in a cold sweat. A few weeks ago, he had woken up with a yell in his throat and Dustin’s panicked face above him, trying to shake him awake.

‘Please… don’t tell anyone, Dustin. Please…”

But of course he did.

“Will, you don’t say when things aren’t okay. You shoulder them until something breaks. So, I made a judgement call. I didn’t want you to go through it this year alone. I wanted you to know that you have us. That we’re here.”

Will put his head in his hands, “But why did you have to tell Mike?”

“Because I didn’t know how to help. And it’s damn near impossible to get him out of Hawkins these days. But he’ll do it for you.”

His insides did a somersault. “That’s another thing, Dustin.”

“What?”

“Please, stop playing cupid with me and Mike.”

He was quiet, mumbling, “I wasn’t trying to before, at the house. I was just messing around.”

“I know but the jokes were hitting a little too close. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t want to dig up. It’s complicated between us and we need to figure that out ourselves.”

Dustin looked like a puppy getting scolded, “I gotcha. Sorry.”

Will added, “And, I swear to God if I ever hear the word ‘beefcake’ from out of your mouth, I am mailing your nudie mags to your mom.”

His eyes got wide, “You wouldn’t!”

Will rested his chin on his hands, “You really want to gamble on that?”

He held up his hands, “Fine. It is stricken from my vocabulary forever.”

Mike was making his way back over and Will tried to tuck everything back inside. Mike slid back into the booth. He pulled a small notepad from his back pocket and put it on the table.

“Okay. So what are we doing for costumes?”

And Will laughed. All of a sudden, the years melted away. He remembered how Mike would spend the remaining days of summer planning out their Halloween costumes, their trick or treat routes. The jubilant energy of new ideas spreading across his face, the excitement in his voice. It all came back. This time was precious. Their lives would undoubtedly fall back into their pattern before long. Lucas and Max would likely move back by her job in Silicon Valley. Mike would go back to Hawkins. Back to El. So, Will needed to hold onto every moment and make them last.

#my fics #stranger things #strangerthings #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #st fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fan fic #byeler #byler #byeler fic #byler fic #byeler fanfic #byler fanfic #Mike and Will #mike wheeler #bi Mike wheeler #gay will byers #gay will #will byers loves mike wheeler #will byers #will byers is gay #will byers centric #flashbacks #aged up #hurt/ comfort #byler hurt/ comfort #byeler hurt/ comfort

[clericbyers]

robin, after noticing how flustered mike gets around steve, confronts mike about it. she says something about knowing about his crush. mike, who's never met someone who didn't bully people that "acted" or "looked" gay and just treated it like it was normal, broke into tears in front of robin and she just awkwardly comforts him. a few days after it, mike comes back to her for love advice with will -mike's crush on steve anon

Robin has watched Mike throughout the entire summer thanks to his odd friendship with Steve. She’s noticed a few things here and there, how Mike gets a little flustered when Steve laughs and smiles at him, how Mike’s voice gets a little rougher and his tongue a bit sharper despite the flush in his cheeks. Almost as if trying to combat his body’s reaction by proactively acting the opposite. She sees all this and she knows. She knows what’s in Mike’s mind, why he constantly drags his friends over even when they don’t end up seeing a movie or buying ice cream.

She doesn’t mean to say anything at first, but Mike’s mask slips off one day while he’s absentmindedly strolling through the mall and he stops to watch Steve attend to a bunch of kids buying single cones. She watches the way Mike’s eyes soften, how his lips curl up just the slightest, and how his entire gaze is trained on Steve. Her heart beats for Mike, for knowing what it’s like to like someone unobtainable. To be afraid of anyone else knowing what the glances really mean. It’s cute too, how Mike scowls and continues on his way without a word but he can’t take back the way he watched Steve and that sticks with Robin for a while.

Mike comes up to the counter with Lucas and Will one day when Robin’s manning the shop. He asks if Steve is here, using some pretense Robin doesn’t really care about, and when she tells the boys Steve isn’t in today, it pains her to see Mike deflate. It’s not obvious, he’s gotten good at hiding at least that, but his frown deepens and his sigh of resignation makes even Robin a little sad Steve isn’t in. She stops Mike before the trio leaves though, hesitant but still firm, and Mike cocks his head to the side but nods, telling Lucas and Will to go on without him. Robin motions for him to follow her and they sit down in the back where they can’t be overheard.

“I know why you’re here,” Robin starts calmly. “Why you come to Scoops Ahoy so much. The ice cream here isn’t that good.”

Mike laughs. “You’re right, it’s not. But,” he shifts in his chair and places his hands on the table between them. His fingers are fidgeting and he’s avoiding eye contact, “that’s why I’m here.”

Robin shakes her head and reaches out to take Mike’s hands in her own, but pulls back with a sigh. “I know, Mike, and it’s okay. I used to make up the same dumb excuses just to get a glance at my crush even if we barely spoke.”

“My what?” Mike screeches, face turning bright red as he pulls his hands into his lap. “Look here, Robin, I don’t know what the hell you think you know about me but I don’t have a crush on Steve.”

“I never said it was Steve you’re here for.” Mike blushes and then pales with a quickness that makes Robin wonder if he’s dizzy from the blood loss. “Mike...it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I don’t,” he mutters helplessly as if he’s echoed this sentiment many times before, a pointless phrase he knows cannot cover up the truth beneath it. His eyes are glazed with tears and his fists tighten in his lap. “I don’t like Steve.”

“Mike,” Robin wants to pull him into her arms and give him a big hug but they aren’t close enough for that. “It’s okay to have crushes. It doesn’t matter on who. They’re crushes; it’ll pass before you know it.”

Mike shakes his head and Robin watches those held back tears streak down his face. “No, no; it’s not...it’s not...you’re supposed to hate me.” He looks up at her with quivering lips and tears dripping from his eyes. “Why are you okay with this? Why are you so calm?”

“Because crushes are normal.”

“This isn’t normal!” Mike rubs at his eyes as the tears keep involuntarily falling. “It’s not normal; why are you acting like it’s normal? I’m a boy.”

“Yeah and?” Robin stands up to circle around the table and pat Mike’s arm. “It’s normal. You’re fine, Mike. I just wanted to tell you I know and it’s okay.” She rubbed his shoulder with a smile. “I think it’s cute that Steve’s charms are at least working on someone in this town.”

Mike snorts at that and then suddenly turns into Robin’s side and starts full on crying. Robin blinks a couple times and rubs at the back of the boy’s head anyway. She can’t imagine what he’s thinking inside having spent all summer indulging in something he felt was wrong and dirty and then suddenly being told it’s okay. Suddenly being told for the first time that his feelings were normal. Robin can relate for sure, but she doesn’t know exactly what he’s thinking. She knows his parents, the bullies at school, the closeness of the kids in Steve’s weird friend circle, and she always wondered if maybe, just maybe, there is more to the futile crush on Steve going on.

When Mike finishes crying, he thanks Robin with a mumble goodbye and she doesn’t see him for a good number of days. Even Steve gets a little moody that his kids haven’t come to see him recently, and Robin has to hide her smile about that. Eventually, the Party comes back and Mike shoots both Steve and Robin equally satisfied smiles. Robin watches Mike carefully but not stalkerish, just checking in to see how he is with Steve. The crush isn’t as blatant now, no, it seems that Mike has gotten a better handle on it now. But even then, she notices how peculiar it is that Mike keeps turning to look at Will throughout the discussion, standing closer to him than to the counter unlike before his breakdown with Robin. She notes how Will keeps looking down at where their hands probably are (she can’t exactly tell from behind the counter after all), and she wonders if something more is going on there.

“Robin, can I talk to you?” Mike interrupts, pulling the teen from her wandering thoughts.

Robin nods and motions for Mike to follow her in the back. “Point and shoot, kid. What’s got you needing to talk to me?”

“Ah,” Mike rubs at the back of his head and shoots a glance back at the door. “I have a question and since you’re the only one who knows about,” he motions with his hands and flushes a bit, “I thought I could ask you.”

“Steve is—,”

Mike makes a face. “Steve is just...cute, I guess, and I like that I can like him without it really meaning anything, you know?” Mike shrugs and crosses his arms. He’s scowling at the ground but then looks up with a firm gaze. “It’s just that I like someone, like really like someone, and I want some advice on how to, uh, pursue hi—them.”

“Hithem?”

Mike blushes. “Him. He, uh, he’s my friend and after you said...after you said it’s normal, I guess I kinda just,” Mike shrugs and blushes harder. “He’s really cute and it’s so weird to say that out loud but I’ve been thinking it forever, and you know maybe a crush on Steve was fine because that’s never gonna happen and it’s superficial anyway but there’s a chance it could happen with my friend I think and I want that. I want to be with him.” Mike looks back at the door again and then clears his throat. “So, yeah. Uh, do you have any tips or something?”

Robin laughs. “Oh, Mike, I’m not really the one dishing out love advice left and right, I’ll tell you that.” She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and smirks. “But I’ll tell you one thing: you should just tell him.”

Mike’s eyes go so wide Robin is scared they might pop out. “Tell him? And do what, ruin the past 9 years of friendship because his very male best friend happens to like him?”

“If you think you already have a chance then why not go for it?” Robin shrugs. “Will stuck by your side even with all your gross pining for Steve, so I’m sure he could care less.”

“I never said it was Will!”

Robin grins. “I have eyes, Wheeler, and I use them, unlike you apparently. I’m telling you, just let him know. You two are so close already you were holding hands behind the counter earlier.”

“I was not holding his hand!” Mike blushes furiously. “I just—he had a—our hands accidentally touched okay! How did you even see that anyway?”

“I didn’t but thanks for the confirmation.”

Mike groans loudly and stomps to the door. “You are just as helpful as Steve is good at math homework.”

“Yeah, so tell me how it all adds up for you, Romeo!”

Two weeks later, Robin’s at the counter counting down the minutes until it’s Steve’s turn to man the ice cream because god, these toddlers today are getting on her everlasting nerves. Mike and Will pop up around the corner and come to the shop chattering between themselves. Mike’s talking about something that’s got him excited and he’s practically bouncing on his heels and Will is watching him, nodding every so often but with the softest look in his eyes that Robin knows what happened in the past two weeks. When Robin raises an eyebrow before Mike begins his order, the boy rolls his eyes and places his palms down on the counter. Will is standing close enough and he places his hands next to Mike’s, but Mike, without even looking down and while still stating his order, moves his hand so his and Will’s are overlapping in front of them where only Robin can see, and she smiles softly to herself.

#yams writes #yams answers #mikes crush anon #fun fact i am losing followers for indulging in this au but like who cares #this is SO CUTE and i am thankful for u bringing it to me

[strawberrystan]

Richie finding Will’s drawings of Mike (Byler)

Imagine Will and Richie sharing a small, cheap dorm and being dormmates and one day Richie comes across all of Will’s drawings of Mike 

[Mentioned/Implied Reddie, stenbrough and benverly]

Richie was in search for his wallet in their messy dorm and was looking on Will’s desk. That’s when he saw them under piles of paper.

Richie has a small heart attack because Will has at least ten drawings of him and they clearly made with a lot of care

And then it really sinks in and all Richie can think is ‘shit’

Yeah he was flirty with Will but he was flirty with everyone and he didn’t think Will took him seriously!

The panic sets in and he’s got no clue what to do because this is Will Byers the softest, sweetest person Richie’s ever met and upsetting him would be like murdering a bunch of fluffy kittens

Richie calls Stan because he’s ‘Stan the man, the jew with a plan’ and he’s Richie’s best friend, he’s helped clean up Richie’s messes more times than anyone

Stan comes over begrudingly but only because through Richie’s incoherent babbling he hears Will’s name and now he’s curious and slightly worried

And because Stanley Uris has a soft spot for Will Byers

Stan comes over and Richie explains everything. Stan sees the pictures and he’s stumped because what the fuck? What the fuck

Richie’s still a mess and all that Stan really manages to get from Richie is the he’s flattered, thinks Will is great but not like that and loves his boyfriend Eddie a “Shitfuck ton” in Richie’s words not his own

Basically he’s not ready to turn down the nicest person he’s ever met.

Stan is still trying to process all of this

He’s confused as shit because Richie?? Richie Tozier??? Really????

Stan’s decided he’s finally learnt Will’s only flaw. He has shit taste in men

“What the fuck am I gonna do Staniel?!”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Stan does noT fEeL pRePaReD tO DeAl WiTh ThIs ToDaY or ever

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do??!”                              “Well what do you think I can do?!”                                                          “Tell me how to fix this!”                                                                        “Sew your stupid lips shut Trashmouth!”                                                    “Yes, thank you Stan that’s perfect.”

They’re both at a loss and at this point they’re just arguing so Stan calls Bill

Clearly Bill will know what to do, he’s their fearless leader and he’s always been good at guiding them in the right direction in Stan’s eyes

Bill’s quiet, just staring at the art for a long time. Stan and Richie both assuming he’s coming up with some sort of master plan

Bill looks up at them suddenly, his expression unreadable and then speaks “He- He’s a g-good dr- drawer”

Stan’s lost his faith in Bill and ten years are taken off of Richie’s life.

They decide to call Mike and Ben for this

They feel stupid not having gone to them first. Afterall, Mike is the go to for emotional support and Ben’s got a way with words unlike any other

Ben of course, brings Bev who is a laughing mess at the whole situation

“This is- This is just to good! How did this even happen Richie?”             “He was born. It all went down hill from there.”                                       “Now is not the time for your fucking attitude Stanley”

Bill’s still being incredibly unhelpful, flipping through all the drawings instead of assisting in anything “Why isn’t Richie wearing glasses in any of these?”

Ben, always optomistic and nonjudmental gives a theory, “Maybe he can’t draw glasses very well?”

Stan, the fucker, has his own opinion “Richie’s less ugly without glasses”

Richie flips him off “Shut the fuck up Stan, you had a thing for me when we were thirteen and we all know”

Stan fake gags but doesnt deny it and Richie’s smiles smugly

Luckily Mike’s there and gets them back on track

They’re in the middle of discussing what to do when a pissed off Eddie Kaspbrak enters

Richie was supposed to meet him almost an hour ago for coffee

All the loser go quiet, even Bev which is a testament to Eddie’s power when angry.

Everyone knows that shits about to go down. Eddie gets jealous easily and really, who could blame him with Richie’s flirty nature. 

Eddie’s annoyed but also confused at the group gathering “What the fuck is going on here?”

Mike, the saint that he is, steps up and takes one for Richie the team. His voice calm and soothing as he explains the situation

Eddie stomps over to Will’s desk and is practically glaring holes through Will’s art. Which honestly, Eddie thinks are beautiful.

If the situation was any different he’d probably be asking Will to keep one. However the situation isn’t different

And of course Richie was going to get himself in shit eventually and of course it had to be with Will

 Eddie’s feeling a mixture of anger towards his boyfriend and sympathy towards his new friend Will, he’s been in the same boat as Will with Richie in the past and it was not fun

“Richard,” And holy shit! Eddie had only ever used Richie’s full name twice in all his years of knowing him. Richie is screwed, so very, royally screwed

“My sweet spaghetti let me-”

“Shut up.” Richie has never closed his mouth so fast in his whole life “I like Will Byers, we have english together. He’s my friend and he’s a wonderful person. I swear to god if you are an insesitive prick about this or crack some goddamn joke with him I will cut your dick off and feed it to the birds.”

Stan looks thoroughly disgusted and offended by that threat and Beverly is gone, her cackles filling the room

Mike looks tired.

Very, very tired and he finds himself thinking he should have stayed on the stupid farm

Richie is a mixture of terrified and turned on, Eddie always got this look in his eyes when he was mad that made Richie a little weak in the knees

Now the seven of them are all crammed into the room, writing out ideas on what they can do. Stan complaining about the lack of space and Bill, who is practically sitting in his lap, agreeing

They suck it up though. Because a loser and and a newer but still good friend are in need

When Richie hears keys jingling and a muffled but undeniably Will voice laughing and saying “That makes no sense at all Mike” he panics and crumples up the page of ideas, shoving it into his mouth

Eddie smacks him hard and forces him to open his mouth so that he can grab it by the very tips of his fingers, attempting not to gag

Ben’s a sweetheart and takes it from a disgusted Eddie

When Will opens the door his eyes widen, confused beyond belief at what is going on

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere trying to grasp the situation at hand.

Bill is sitting in Stan’s lap giving him a sheepish grin, Beverly silently laughing to the point of tears and Ben trying to calm her down. Eddie was glaring at his hands and agressively scrubbing them together

Richie was looking anywhere but at Will, the oposite of Mike who was starring directly at him as if he was in The Office

 “Uhm... Richie? I thought you were... going out today?”

Richie didn’t say anything, avoiding eye contact and Will’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion

“I was gonna hang out with Mike here. But if you’re busy.”

At his name Mike Wheeler peered into the room and everyone had to do a doubletake at the lanky guy standing next to Will

They were all caught in the middle of an awkward starring contest beore Richie blurted out “Oh thank fuck for Mike!”

The losers decided to make their exit now, all saying an  awkward hello to Will and his friend as they left, Stan stopping to apologize to Will before leaving with the others (he may have tidied up Will’s desk a little. But just a little.)

Now the only people left were Richie, Eddie, Will and Mike. It was quiet for a moment

“You have no idea how glad I am to have a doppleganger right now. See, I saw all your drawings and I thought it was me and that you were madly in love with me”

Will’s face was unbelievably red and Mike’s face was twisted in confusion. Eddie starred at the two, eyes widening as he realized Mike didn’t know

Mike didn’t know

“Turns out you’re just hella gay for Mi-” Eddie elbowed Richie a little harder than necessary

“We should go Richie!’ The two practically flew out of the room leaving Will and Mike on their own

“So... you draw me?”

Will is a flustered mess but he manages to nod

“Can I- Can I see them?”

Will goes over to his desk, legs feeling like lead

When he sees that Stan has organized his desk he thinks he should be uncomfortable or annoyed but a warmth settles in his chest, calming him enough to scoop up the pages and bring them to Mike

When Mike sees them he’s speechless, they’re stunning

“You... You really think I look like this?”

Will looks up at Mike a little confused and sees the insecurity in his face. “Well kinda... I think you look better.”

Mike’s head whips up to stare at Will who gives him a small shy smile

“I hope one day I’ll be able to get at least half of your charm and allure into my pieces.”

It’s quiet after that before Mike blurts out “Can I kiss you!”

Will’s eager and so is Mike and so there heads bump at first but on their second try their lips are brushing together and Will lets out a happy sigh as Mike pulls him closer a mantra of finally running through both boys heads

They’re interrupted by the door opening, Richie’s head popping in

“Forgot my wallet!” Richie at least looks a little bashful but that’s soon gone as he calls out “Get some Byers!” Before slamming the door behind him

Mike and Will can hear Eddie scolding him as they walk away

The two look at each other and burst into laughter, Mike wresting his forehead against Will’s and looking at him with affectionate eyes

Will thinks that next time he’ll highfive Richie when he makes a terrible joke. But just the once. Just so that they’re even

Before Will can think into that much more Mike’s lips are meeting his again

Okay maybe two highfives

Wow this ended up getting really long and out of hand!! I was only thinking of writing a small paragraph worth but now there’s this... hope you liked it though!

#byler #byler fic #byler headcanon #ryers #will byers #gay will byers #mike wheeler #pansexual mike #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #stenbrough #stanley uris #bill denbrough #stozier #benverly #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #IT #it 2017 #it x stranger things #it x stranger things crossover #stranger things #stranger things x it #crossover fic #no pennywise #no upside down #alternate universe #au

[diagnosedblog]

Pretty much anything Mileven (calling El, El not Jane) with fluff or angst or anything really but preferably while there still young (shortly post season two)

Word Count: 3k 

Rating T: Occasional language

Pairing(s): Mike/Eleven

Content:

Chill!Mike - not as nervous or fidgety 

Growing!El - has grown on her knowledge but still struggles with things

Limited telekinesis - she doesn’t want to accidentally hurt Mike so she keeps them to a minimum.

Enough fluff but probably not enough bc this is horrible and it’s my first request please spare ily anon

okay let’s DO THIS

(please enjoy it and thank you for the prompt) - Diagnosedblog

January 11th, 1985

7:40 PM

Jim & Jane Hopper Residence

“7-4-0.”

She read this and sighed. Hopper was nowhere to be found, and El was becoming very bored.

After what happened with the gate closing and the previous events, El had decided to simply relax and enjoy being able to sit down and breathe. She still had to hide for the remainder of the year so everyone made sure to keep her under wraps. However, things were no longer as hectic as they used to be and she could finally be with her family and friends. She had more time to be with Mike now and that was the cherry on top; spending time with him. Even a day without him seemed to be a struggle now that they were able to see each other. She had grown used to their separation, and she was glad it was over.

Hopper was out because apparently someone had taken a lawn mower from farmer Merrill’s shed and used it to mow obscene images into the free grass outside of his field. Merrill was absolutely furious and insisted that it was one of Eugene’s ‘hooligan friends’, and he refused to lay it to rest. Hopper went to go question Eugene, only to find out the same thing happened to him. Both men went to the station and were going off completely on one another, and Hopper had to stay to help calm them down and gather more details. He would be home at around 8:40 or 9, beeping “HOME BY NINE” in Morse code.

This left El free to do as she pleased and she didn’t mind, to begin with. She had eaten 7 Eggos, watched 10 soap operas, took 2 naps, read 4 magazines, and attempted to fix the broken radio (which proceeded to explode).

She lay there, dazed and still extremely bored. She no longer wanted the house to herself as she had nothing to do; she had no work to do because she was not yet enrolled in school, and she had already finished her daily practices (she was home-schooled at the moment). There was nothing interesting for her to (try) to read, and she had watched a majority of the soap operas on the television. Everything else was trash on a screen. El wanted Hopper to come home so he could teach her how to play board games tonight, but since he was out she had no guide. She didn’t understand the directions and playing without them was pointless, so she gave up. Board games aside, El really just wanted to call Mike and maybe talk to the Party (except Max - there was still bad blood there). She had trouble working the phone and also didn’t know the Wheeler’s number though, so there was no hope. She laid there, contemplating life.

Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar knock at the door. It wasn’t the secret knock, but it wasn’t alarming either. It was quiet yet simple. Almost as if this person was being cautious or trying to hide. El had been taught by Hopper to never open this door for anyone else under any circumstances and these rules still applied to her even after she no longer had to hide but this person didn’t seem threatening. She pondered on whether to hide and let the mysterious person leave, or just to crack the door open a  bit.

She decided to do neither and simply turned the porch light on, looking out of the window onto the porch. When she saw them her eyes grew wide and she quickly scurried to the door and opened it.

The mysterious person had been Mike. Having been grounded, he snuck out of his basement and took his bike up the trail to the woods, as he hadn’t seen El since Christmas Day in late December. They greeted each other with a hug.

“Hey, El.”

“Hey, Mike.”

Having Mike here really brightened up her mood. The boredom was starting to consume her, and she had been wanting to see him for a while, but now that he was here things were looking up; this night wouldn’t so boring after all.

“I brought you some chocolate candies since I know you like them. Maybe you can put them on your waffles.”

“Thanks, I will put them in the fridge. I’m too full to eat anything else.”

She smiled as she took them from his hand and headed to the kitchen. As she went to go put the chocolates away, she noticed Mike was still standing awkwardly at the door.

He noticed her puzzled face and grew flustered. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you still standing? You may sit after all.”

“Oh. Right.”

She stifled a giggle. Even after knowing for 2 years he was still a nervous wreck, and she thought it sweet.

He quickly took a seat and casually watched the television. “I got the candy from Dustin - he had a bunch of chocolate left over from our last campaign.”

Dustin and leftover food was a suspicious combo. “Is it safe to eat?”

Mike laughed. “Yes, it is, this time at least. He had a bunch of other weird candy that no one wanted and tried to shove it at me, but I just threw it back at him because of no one like honeysuckers.”

This made her grin cheekily as she came up with an idea. As Mike stayed on the couch, she quietly went through the kitchen drawers until she found a pack of uneaten jelly beans. She turned back to him from behind and began to aim. A lift of her hand and a swift wave-

FLICK.

Mike felt the back of his head in confusion. It was something had been thrown at him, like a little piece of paper. He looked around and saw El in the kitchen, who had sneakily pretended to look for something in the pantry. He didn’t find any answers and decided to just ignore it. He impatiently waited for El on the couch. “Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“Oh, just potato crunches.” While she actually picked out 3 more jelly beans.

“Oh okay. I’ll just be here. On the couch still.”

“I’ll be in there just a second.”

THUMP.

Okay, now he knew he wasn’t imagining things. Three tiny objects had basically been launched at his head and he knew who was responsible.

“Hey!”

He turned to find her giggling like a giddy little girl while holding a whole jar of beans.

“Stop throwing candy at me!”

“No. It’s fun.”

She proceeded to launch 5 more beans, but Mike ducked quickly.

“Stop it!”

El just laughed. She was clearly enjoying this.

Seeing her laugh really lightened the mood for Mike. She had never laughed so fluidly before and he loved how happy she sounded. Wait, no. No candy fights - they would make a huge mess and El might break something.

Mike huffed. “Give me the bowl.”

“Nope.”

“Fine, I’ll just take it.”

He got up and walked towards, reaching for it when-

WOOSH.

The bowl was 7 feet in the air.

“El, give me the bowl.”

“No.”

Mike tried to jump for it, but she only lifted it higher.

“Please?”

Mike pleaded with his eyes, which she found charming but ineffective.

“Okay.”

He went for it as it was lowered and-

WOOSH - thump thump thump.

She had levitated it again, but tilted it, so that about 7 pieces fell on Mike’s head.

He looked at the pieces on the floor but kept his head down. He decided it was better to play along. If she wants to play dirty, we’ll play dirty, he thought, smiling to himself.

“Okay..since we’re doing this..” he said, still facing the floor.

He jolted to the kitchen, catching El off guard and thundered through the cabinet doors to find more candies. El grabbed more beans and began to hurl them at Mike but her attempts to slow him weren’t successful, as he found a whole bowl of candy.

“GAME ON!” he screamed as he threw the candy.

El shrieked as about 10 things of candy were hurled at her. At first, she was frightened because she didn’t want Mike to throw them too hard, but the fear subsided when he literally completely missed her and basically threw candy at the fridge.

She bee-lined out of the kitchen as Mike threw multiple piles of jelly beans, laughing maniacally. El suddenly remembered the whipped cream in the top drawer to the right, and she snatched it out when she got back to the kitchen. Mike’s face dropped at the speed of light, as the can was levitated and suddenly sprayed everywhere. The whole living room was soaked - it was snowing whip cream. Mike covered himself and bolted into her bedroom, slamming the door where he could shelter himself.

“Try and get me now!”

“Damn you, Michael!” She learned that one from Miss Wheeler.

She chuckled as she set the can down and sat at the door. Part of her was exhausted, but the other part of her could have done this forever.

Mike was sitting on the other side. “El?”

“Yes, Mike?”

“I just wanna say..” Suddenly the door opened and El flew to the ground.

“Hey!”

“I found the spare can!” He snickered as held it directly in front of her face. “You better run!” She quickly got off her feet and ran out of the room. That’s what she gets for sneaking the second can into her room.

They did these things all night, and Eleven was truly having a good time. Though she did love his calm and kind demeanor, she loved Mike like this too - fun-loving and wild.

They threw and used every piece of candy and junk they could get their hands on - Skittles (“Taste the rainbow sucker!”), chips, whipped cream, waffles, even a piece of cake. The floor was basically destroyed with cream and crushed candy and snacks. You would’ve thought someone sprayed the place with a fire hydrant, as the walls were splattered with everything from syrup to flour. The kids looked even worse - El was covered in everything from Eggo crumbs to cinnamon, and Mike looked even worse with sugar in his hair and a powder covered face, with whip cream up his nose. Eleven found this especially hilarious, especially when it came out whenever he sneezed. He looked so adorable when he wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t find anything funny about this.” He pouted.

“I do.”

He looked at her as she laughed and giggled. This time he was able to truly look at her. She looked so pretty even covered in sugar and messy smashed chocolate. Her smile was still infectious as hell, and Mike couldn’t help but stare. It made him happy to see her so happy and to have so much fun with her doing something so ridiculous. It amazed him that this was the girl he loved, but he didn’t regret it in the least.

El loved that Mike had gone from being the party pooper to being the life of the party in just a matter of jelly beans. She hadn’t expected him to get into so quickly, or to have so much fun. It was so adventurous; throwing Skittles and Hershey’s and expired candy that elderly people gave you and pouring flour all over the place. The whipped cream was the best part - Mike has sprayed directly at her and running all the place had been a pure blast. She was basically in confectionery bliss; the boy of her dreams was acting crazy with her and enjoying every second of it.

She happily munched on a skittle she found in her pocket while continuing to think about it.

“I thought you were full.”

“Well, I’m not anymore, so haha.”

Mike let out a weird giggle that caused her to laugh quietly. Another great thing about him - his weird giggle. It sounded very odd, but it was still contagious. It was beautiful in its own way.

“El?”

“Yes?”

“I had a really great time with you. I thought we were just gonna watch TV, but this is way better.” He pointed to the ceiling, which was dripped with fresh cake dough. They had basically used everything in the kitchen.

“It would be funny if that fell on you.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it would.”

“I think it will.”

“I bet you 10 bucks it won’t.”

“I don’t have 10 bucks.”

“Better find some.”

“Hmph.”

They quietly laid there, eyeing the fan to see if the cake stuff would actually fall. It did.

Eleven was in pure giggle fits as Mike wiped soggy cake mix off his face.

“You get some too!” He laughed as he slathered some on her.

“Gross!” She exclaimed

Mike cackled. “I’ll get it off just wait.”

“No, let me get it.” She said as he attempted to get up and wipe it off.“No, I got it just let me-”

He stopped as their faces got closer together, blushing very hard. Mike hadn’t realized he was that close to her when he went to focus on the cake mix and he had crawled in between her legs. He thought of getting out of her personal space so not to seem rude, but he didn’t do this. Instead, he leaned in, slowly but surely, and placed a small peck on her lips. They were soft even while dirty, and very comforting. It tasted like sugar and passion. It sounded corny, but it was the most honest he could’ve been. He almost kissed her again and then he realized what he was doing.

“I-I’m sorry. I should’ve given you a heads up, that was rude-”

Mike was interrupted by the crashing of lips onto his. El smiled as she held him in a smooth, but short little kiss, full of affection and silliness. She’d never kissed him like this before; the kiss was either really emotional or just rushed, but this was different. It was more joyful, more giddy and playful. Mike enjoyed it.

She pulled back and saw that Mike’s eyes were closed. He must’ve really liked it because he didn’t open them until she snapped her fingers.

“Mike?”

“Huh? Oh. I’m okay.” He chuckled nervously. El frowned; she didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable.

“I apologize.”

“What? No! It was amazing. I mean.. Really good. Cool. Yeah.”

She grinned at the nervous goof in front of her. “I love you, Mike. I really do.”

Mike smiled, face as red as a tomato. “I really do, too. Love you, that is.”

El laid back down, resting herself as Mike regained his composure. All the excitement had tired her out.

She felt Mike’s fingers intertwine with her, and instantly felt at ease. His soft, warm hands served as a forgiveness for the mess they had made, and both children blissfully fell asleep.

Eleven woke up first. She had had a very good nap, albeit on the floor, and she turned to see Mike still knocked out. He was cute while he slept; the silent breathing and the way he would slightly twitch here and there. She decided to get and check the time to see if Hopper was close. She immediately panicked.

“8-3-0! No! Dad is going to be furious!”

Mike groggily awoke. “What time is it?” Then he saw the clock.

“Shit! We only have 30 minutes to clean this whole house!’

Fear started to set in as the two realized the severity of their mess. Everything was basically vandalized with dry and sticky food as well as littered with candy.

“What am I going to do?” El mumbled to herself sadly.

“I’ll help you clean up. We have to hurry though.”

She perked up. “Of course. I will get the broom.”

“I’ll get the mop. Then we’ll do what else is necessary. Let’s go!”

They spent the next 25 minutes cleaning up what they could. It was definitely grueling; you would’ve thought there was a supernatural war going on, as paper towels and brooms and cleaning supplies flew back and forth along the house. It gave Mike a lot to keep up with and Eleven several nosebleeds and a big headache, but it had to be done.

At about 8:55 PM, the work was finally finished. Mike had just vacuumed the last of the candy, and after putting back in the closet, collapsed on the now clean couch as El sat there in her blankie, popcorn in hand (the only thing not used in the food battle). He looked at her with tired eyes and scoffed. “You get to sit there and eat while I clean. I’m underappreciated.” El playfully rolled her eyes at her silly boy. He smiled at her, all teeth, as they held hands until Mike decided it was time to leave. “I love you,” he said as he enclosed her in a tight hug. “I love you too, Mike.” She returned the hug warmly, and then he quickly got on his bike and peddled home.

Hopper came home shortly after Mike had biked home so he didn’t know the boy had been there. He didn’t notice anything at first, though he did note the house seemed cleaner than usual. “Hey, kid. I trust you been good.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair and let out a sigh of relief at finally getting home. “You been anywhere today?” “No.” “Good. Don’t want you to be in any danger out there.” He said gruffly as he rummaged through the fridge. Then he noticed it - the Eggos was completely gone. He turned back to Eleven who was completely lost in the television, holding the empty box. “Did you eat this whole thing?” She turned to face him and for a brief second Hopper saw worry in her eyes. “Umm…yes.”

He grew suspicious quickly. “Why?”

“…I was hungry.”

“There was plenty of leftover food.”

“It looked gross.” A blatant lie. The food actually was delicious, but she had eaten the waffles first and was too full to get to it.

Hopper grew irritated. “C’mon kid we talked about this. You can’t not eat just because it doesn’t look good. It’s still good for you, you can’t live off of waffles, alright?”

She nodded understandingly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just eat real food next time.” He started to walk towards his room when he noticed the fan was on but was going really slowly. He flicked it off, and El heard a strange gooey noise. Then she remembered: she’d forgotten to get the fan!

Hopper took note of the house again and walked back towards her, perplexed. “Hey, kid did you clean the house-”

SCHLOOP.

Sticky, soggy cake dough. All over him. Hopper stood there for a moment, pondering whatever it was that hit him when he realized it. “My cake mix?” She stayed awkwardly silent.

“Why in the hell was this on the ceiling?” He growled, turning to his daughter accusingly.

El didn’t know whether to feel bad for him or laugh at how he looked covered in dough.

“I can explain.”

Hopper slowly wiped it from his face. “Oh trust me. You will.”

As he went to go clean himself off, El recapped the evening’s events. She knew she would be in deep trouble. She didn’t care much though.

She remembered the fun she had and how much she had loved being with Mike that whole time. Throwing food, running around, sleeping on the floor, cake dough on Mike’s face; it was all brilliant.

A word she’d learned from Flo at the station. Perfect to describe the night.

Wait.

Mike owed her ten dollars.

Fun fact: Potato crunches are her weird names for potato chips. Just so you know lmao.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #st #st 2 #mileven #mike x eleven #prompt #request