#Byler ficlets

[lighthouseas]

- brick fireplace // a byler ficlet

Mike thinks he might have a sixth sense, of some kind.

Having not slept very soundly these past few months, Mike has miraculously found that he's actually fallen asleep the night Will has to stay in his room due to the limited space in the Wheeler household.

And those two things are NOT related. Obviously.

It's just coincidence, then, when he jolts awake, utterly disoriented, to the sound of heavy breathing - like someone is having a panic attack. Mike turns to the side, where Will is currently stationed on the floor, sleeping in a sleeping bag that Mike had had to shake the dust out of due to it having been left at the back of a storage closet for...who knows how long.

"Will?" he whispers. He can't really see anything, since his room is pitch black - but he can hear the gasping breaths, which immediately stop once he speaks.

"Sorry," Will murmurs. "I'm sorry. I- I woke you up, didn't I?"

Mike shuffles under his bedcovers, still not really awake but immediately sensing that something is wrong regardless. "Yeah, but -" Will's breathing is still heavy. Mike wonders if he'll take oxygen donations from him. "Are you okay?"

It's a stupid question. No shit, Mike, of course Will isn't okay. He's kind of reliving all of his childhood trauma on full display for all of his family and friends. No, Will is not okay. And as Will's best friend, Mike should know this. He's a little scared, though - a bit hesitant to reach beyond the walls they've built up over the last two years. Scared that if he pokes at one brick - removes a single block, puts one stick out of place - reaches out and says, let me help calm you, holds Will in his arms like he so desperately wants to - the walls will come crashing down, all at once. And that's not what he wants. And probably not what Will wants, either, but really, what does he know?

Beside him, Will is silent for a moment. "Do you want an honest answer?" he murmurs. Mike tenses. He knows what Will is referencing, of course - lying to him about the painting, which had nearly fractured their friendship forever. He's not letting him lie again.

"Well, yeah."

"It was just-" Will sighs. He definitely thinks it isn't a big deal, even though it fucking is, and Mike is overcome with the urge to shake him violently by the shoulders. "A nightmare. They've been getting worse since-"

"...yeah." It doesn't take Mike long to realize what Will is referring to - all he has to do is look through the cracks in his blinds to see the red clouds, probably identical to the ones Will had seen in 1983, coating the Hawkins' skies above.

"Yeah," Will replies softly.

They're silent for another moment. Mike feels like - well, he feels a lot of things, most of which he has a terrible time expressing. But right now, he just feels tired, and he knows Will is, too, if the bags under his eyes Mike's been seeing as of late are anything to go by.

And so he pokes at a loose brick in the wall. It can't hurt. "Why don't you come up here?" Mike pats the empty bedspace beside him, and he swears he hears Will gasp. As if they hadn't done this countless times before as little kids.

It's different now, obviously. The connotation is different, after everything that's gone on. But Mike is delirious from lack of sleep, and the only coherent thoughts his brain is putting together are Will and scared, which he figures amounts to something, especially when his mattress dips as additional weight is added to it and he finds himself naturally giving the bigger part of the blanket to Will, who always shivered if he didn't have at least two blankets, no matter how warm it was outside.

"Mike, you don't have to do this," Will says airily as Mike gently pushes his shoulder to ease him onto the mattress. Mike's eyelids are already droopy. He doesn't fully realize the implications of what he's doing, but Will definitely feels tired, too, and doesn't either. "I'm okay."

"Mm. Then why did you come up here? Could've refused," Mike replies teasingly, but there's no bite behind it.

The brick is coming loose. Wobbling on the other side of the wall, creating a crack in the structure that one can just barely see through to the other side with.

"I-" Despite his previous opposal, Will is now actively snuggling into the blankets. He chuckles. "I dunno. You're like...a human furnace, I guess. And I was cold."

Mike's eyes are closed, now. "I do run hot," he murmurs. "You needed company, too. C'mon, admit it."

"Mike-"

"You love me."

All goes silent for a moment. Mike is beginning to fall asleep. The brick is teetering on the edge of falling out, but not quite removed from the wall yet. Maybe that can wait until tomorrow.

"I'm cold. You're hogging the blankets," Will whispers, though Mike can tell he wants to say something else.

Without opening his eyes, Mike shifts forward, hoisting himself farther up onto the pillows so his head rests atop Will's and his long arms can wrap protectively around his torso. It's nice, and ridiculously cozy. Will breathes fast against his neck, and for a moment, Mike thinks he may be having a nightmare again.

"What are you doing?"

And - okay. Mike doesn't really know what he's doing, at the moment. He's sort of already half asleep, and Will says he's cold, and Mike runs hot, so he's come to the only logical solution: be Will's human furnace (and protector against nightmares, but that's a silly title, and Mike knows Will hates talking like that. Maybe it can just be implied.)

"I'm keeping you warm," Mike answers simply.

Silence. He fidgets, though it's more like a fish flop since his muscles have turned to jelly with sleep. In doing so, he accidentally nuzzles his face into Will's hair, and catches a brief scent of vanilla shampoo.

"Is this...okay?" Mike asks, just to make sure.

Will is silent for a moment, and then Mike feels him nod against his sternum. It sends shivers up his spine, but they're the good kind - the kind that ease Mike into slumber almost immediately.

He's asleep, now, all noises from the outside muffled. Something whispers into his sternum - it feels like lips, tracing quiet words into his skin, begging him to understand. Begging him to just feel.

"I love you."

The brick falls out of the wall, and Mike pulls Will just a little bit closer.

[andiwriteordie]

OH OH for the prompt thing after vol 2 will stays at the wheelers and mike has to lend him some clothes. will with his hair still wet wearing mike’s hellfire shirt. mike has a huge sexuality crisis lol

NIC oh my god this prompt. thank you for making me write this, thank you thank you THANK YOU I LOVE IT. you know i love my post s4 pining mike wheeler.

—

you look so good it hurts (in my favorite t-shirt)

The end of the world is really weird.

Honestly, it’s nothing like Mike would’ve expected. When he imagined the end of the world, he always imagined it would happen… a lot faster than it’s happening right now. He imagined that the world would just suddenly explode or there would be some disease that would suddenly wipe out half the world’s population or there would be fire and brimstone and monsters that led to the fall of humanity.

The end of the world is nothing like Mike imagined.

Most people don’t actually realize that the world is ending, including Mike’s dad and the majority of people in Hawkins. The government creates some bullshit lie to explain the gaping fissures in the ground (an earthquake? Seriously?) and the storms from the Upside Down that have been periodically happening over the past couple weeks. Though many people flee Hawkins, many people stay, reserving their front row seats to the end of the world like a bunch of idiots.

… 

Mike and his family are among the idiots staying for the end of the world. He can’t leave, after all. He’s been involved with the Upside Down for as long as it started breaking through to the real world, and when this all finally comes to blows, Mike has to be there. Maybe he doesn’t have much to offer, but he has to be here. He’s not leaving Hawkins.

…

He’s not leaving Will.

And that’s exactly what Mike tells his mom when he and Nancy finally sit her down and explain everything. It’s a difficult conversation, but it’s a necessary one. With the Byers and Argyle staying at their house for the time being and with the bright red target on Will’s back, there’s no way to avoid telling Mike’s mom about the situation. She has to know, so Mike and Nancy can stay in Hawkins and join the fight when it comes.

She takes it surprisingly well and welcomes Joyce, Jonathan, Will, and Argyle into their home with open arms. It’s… nice having his mom on their side now, and it’s nice not having to hide this from her. Maybe Mike’s relationship with his family isn’t the best, but over the past couple weeks, he… hasn’t felt as alone. 

(It’s a feeling he’d almost forgotten.)

So yeah, now there are nine people living in Mike’s house, all waiting in nervous anticipation for the end of the fucking world. 

It’s great. Really, really great.

There’s not a lot that any of them can do right now with the world ending and with the governor’s recent stay-at-home order issues for Hawkins and its neighboring towns. They’re literally not allowed to go anywhere, so Mike spends most of his time reading the books he’d been putting off for several months, playing video games with Jonathan, Will, and Argyle, or simply staying up and talking to Will.

It’s… nice. 

It’s nice being so damn close to Will again, after a year of feeling far away from him. Their friendship still isn’t quite what it used to be, and maybe it will never go back to what it used to be. Maybe the harsh words Mike had spat at his childhood best friend had simply damaged their relationship past the point of full repair, and maybe he’ll spend the rest of his life regretting that day and everything that led them to that place.

But… the world’s ending, and Will is close. And they’re friends again… best friends even. Their friendship may not be what it used to be, but it’s still good. It’s still really, really nice having Will so close to him, and God, Mike feels more at home amidst the end of the world than he has in a year.

(He tries not to think about the implications of those feelings, because that… that’s not something Mike wants to think about. He can’t let himself think about that.)

With a soft sigh, Mike tosses his old hacky sack up in the air, catching it absentmindedly. He and Will had found the old thing down in the basement a few days ago, and ever since then, they’d been attempting—keyword: attempting—to play with it, the way they used to as kids. And um, yeah, they weren’t really good at kicking the hacky sack back and forth when they were seven, but they’re really bad now. It’s fine though, because Mike had tripped and fallen, and Will had laughed and laughed and laughed, and…

And Mike had missed that—Will’s laugh.

He’d missed Will, more than he even realized.

Someone knocks on Mike’s bedroom door, and Mike’s brow furrows. “Come in!” he calls, turning towards the door.

To Mike’s surprise, the door opens, revealing none other than Will himself, and Mike’s breath catches.

Oh.

Oh.

Will’s dressed in an old pair of pajama pants that Mike had grown out of a year or so ago, and he’s also wearing Mike’s Hellfire Club t-shirt. His hair is still wet from the shower, and there’s a tentative smile on his face as he walks into the room.

He… he looks good. Like really, really good, and for some weird reason, Mike’s stomach suddenly feels like there are dozens of little butterflies flying around in it. His cheeks feel really, really warm, and no matter how hard he tries, Mike can’t look away from Will.

He looks so good. 

“Hey,” Will greets, his voice soft.

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he blinks, sitting up. “H-hey,” he stammers, offering Will a smile. “Um… you know you don’t have to knock, right? This… this is your room too now.”

A rosy blush spreads across Will’s cheeks, and he sits down, where the little yellow sleeping bag that’s been designated as Will’s for so long is spread out on the floor. “Sorry,” he says with a little shrug. “I guess I’m still getting used to all of this, you know? It’s, um… it’s all still a little weird.”

“Yeah… I know what you mean,” Mike agrees softly, absently fiddling with the hacky sack in his hands. His heart still pounds inside his chest, and his stomach still feels like it has butterflies in it, but Mike can’t look away from Will. He just can’t. 

It’s just… Will looks really, really nice. The pajama pants Mike had grown out of fit him pretty well, but Mike’s Hellfire shirt is a little too big for him. It’s… kind of adorable actually, and when Will rolls his sleeves up to reveal his California, sun-kissed tan skin, Mike feels the lump in the back of his throat grow.

Shit. What the hell is wrong with him? This is Will. This is Will, and… and Mike… Mike can’t be thinking about him like this. Especially when Mike still has a girlfriend, even if El hasn’t spoken to him in two weeks. 

But even without El, this is Will. It’s Will, and…

And what? a voice in the back of his mind questions. What’s wrong with Will?

Nothing, Mike thinks immediately. Nothing’s wrong with Will.

… Okay, then what’s wrong with you?

(Isn’t that the million dollar question?)

“Um… are you okay if I shut the overhead lights off?” Will asks softly, and Mike blinks, looking down at his best friend. There’s an uncertain look on Will’s face, and he quietly adds, “I didn’t sleep very well last night, so I think I’m, um… gonna try to sleep early tonight. If you’re still planning on staying up though, we can leave them on.”

“No, no, we can turn them off,” Mike reassures quickly. Immediately, Will visibly relaxes, and Mike offers him a shy grin. “What’s the likelihood I can turn them off with the hacky sack?”

Will scoffs. “Unlikely.”

“Okay, rude.” Mike makes a face at his best friend, and he narrows his eyes at the light switch across the room. “I bet if I just aim and get it right, I totally could knock them off…”

Mike’s voice trails off, and he tosses the hacky sack across the room.

He misses spectacularly.

Will bursts into laughter, and he offers Mike a crooked little grin. “Told you so,” he deadpans, standing up and switching the lights off. “You’ve got terrible aim, Mike.”

“Shut up, Will.”

Once again, Will just laughs, and he climbs into his sleeping bag, pulling his blankets close. Thanks to the dim glow of the Star Wars night light that Mike has in his room, it’s easy to see the softness in Will’s eyes and the redness still on his cheeks as he looks at Mike. 

“Goodnight, Mike,” Will whispers. 

Mike swallows the lump in his throat. The butterflies in his stomach feel relentless, and his own cheeks feel warm. Everything inside of him just wants to keep looking at Will and wants to keep him as close as humanly possible, and… and that’s… that’s not normal, right? That’s not how people are supposed to feel about their best friends. 

God. What is wrong with him?

Finally, Mike manages to give Will a tiny smile. “Night, Will,” he whispers back, and with one last smile, Will rolls back over onto his side and goes quiet, trying to fall asleep.

Mike doesn’t sleep for another few hours that night, and though he’d never tell anyone, he finds himself stealing glances at Will throughout the night.

(And look… if Will ends up waking up from a nightmare that night, and Mike pulls him up into his own bed, and they both end up holding each other through the darkest hours of the night, that’s only for the two of them to know.)

[unusualwhatsits]

Byler Valentine's Day

Little Byler blurb I wrote in the middle of work cause I had to get this out of my head. Happy Valentine's Day!

Mike's hand sweats where it rests, curled in a fist on his lap. They sit side by side on the edge of Mike's bed, pressed right up against each other. Will's fingers ghost over the back of Mike's fist, tickling and light. He runs them from his knuckles, to the bone at his wrist, and back to his knuckles. Will makes small circles and flicks as he goes, and Mike wonders through his haze if this is what it would feel like to be Will's canvas.

That thought makes him lightheaded, imagining having all of Will's intense focus directed on him, marking and detailing Mike as if he were something worth the effort, the time. He wonders if it would be possible to get a tattoo of one of Will's works. He swallows the lump in his throat that forms from that wild, selfish thought. As if he'd ever be worthy to have Will's art on his body. But, maybe. A flush rises to his cheeks, deep in the thought of carrying around a brand of his lover's talent all day and night. Will's emotions, his feelings, his thoughts, his love, the purest form of his self expression drawn across Mike's body. Mike thinks he may throw up. He quickly sucks in a deep breath to ground himself, lest he throw up all over his beautiful, amazing, talented boyfriend.

Mike flexes his fingers out and turns his hand over, palm up. Will immediately digs in, lacing his fingers between his and gripping tightly, almost painfully so. Mike looks up at Will, and a small smile pulls at the corners of his lips. "Hi," Mike says, just above a whisper. Will bumps his shoulder lightly with his. "Hey," he waggles his eyebrows at Mike playfully and before Mike can even register what's happening, Will is leaning in. His lips tickle Mike's neck, just behind his ear, lightly, barely there. "Happy Valentine's day, Mike." Will's breath ghosts over his neck, his ear, before he pulls back slightly to look Mike in the eye. A relaxed, confident smile on his lips. Mike's grin is goofy and wide, and he can't help himself as he leans forward, planting a deep, drawn out kiss to Will's lips. He pulls back just enough to whisper against Will's lips, "Happy Valentine's day, Will," before diving back in. They kiss for a moment before Will pull's away reluctantly and shakes his head lightly, grin bright and cheeks flushed. Mike's grin shines back just as bright. Will let's out a laugh, easy and light, as he leans forward to press a kiss to Mike's shoulder. He tilts his head down and rests his forehead there, leaning against him and taking a deep breath. He turns to the side slightly, only barely peaking up at Mike from under his lashes.

"I love you, you know that?" He sounds almost in awe. Mike ducks his head at that and presses his cheek to the top of Will's head. He wraps his arm around Will's waist and pulls him closer. Will's head slips from Mike's shoulder into the crook of his neck.

"I love you too." Mike whispers, almost breathless, almost feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. "So much." He wraps his other arm around Will and squeezes him tightly. "Best Valentine's Day ever, I'd say." Will laughs, but it's not a joke and Mike knows it, and he can't nod his head quick enough. "Definitely." He agrees vehemently, emphasizing his agreement by scattering quick kisses all over Will's face and head. Will laughs loudly and pushes at Mike in an attempt to quell Mike's affection, effectively knocking them backwards. They land in a pile of limbs on the bed, which only motivates Mike to pepper even more kisses all over his valentine.

[imfinereallyy]

“The demon is back.” Eddie pokes into Steve’s side to wake him up.

“Babe, please go back to sleep.” Steve shoves his face into the pillow, making his voice muffled.

“Steeeeve.” Eddie whines, “It’s really there I swear this time. And I locked the door so I know it’s the demon again. Nothing else can get inside.”

“Eddie.” Steve squishes his face even deeper into the mattress. “You do this at least once a week. I love you; I do. But I never look because there is no demon. And every morning, you wake up fine. So please, go back to sleep.”

“What if I promise never to mention it again if it’s not really there? Will you look then?” This time Eddie’s voice wavers, his actual terror showing.

Steve sighs and shifts his head to look at Eddie, “This is really freaking you out, huh?” He says it kindly. Steve can tell this is serious to Eddie. So even if he doesn’t believe it, Eddie does. And what’s important to Eddie is important to Steve.

Eddie nods back furiously.

“Okay, I’ll look.” Steve shifts his head towards the other side, where the chair by the window sits. There, sitting in that corner is a dark shadowy figure. “Oh.”

“See! I told you! Demon! Oh god, it’s gonna get us.” Eddie throws his hands up. Even though he’s terrified, he’s accepted defeat.

“No.” Steve says calmly. “It’s just El.”

Eddie pauses his rant, “What?”

“It’s just El. In the corner. She does that sometimes, watches people she cares about until she falls asleep. To make sure they’re safe.” Steve looks at Eddie.

“The door was locked! How are you so calm about one of the kids just watching us at night?”

“Honey, she has mind powers. I don’t think a flimsy lock from Home Depot is going to stop her.” Steve deadpans before shrugging, “And it’s El. She could ask me to kill a man, and I probably wouldn’t even ask questions.”

“What if she asked you to kill me?”

“I’d be conflicted.”

“I want to be mad, but honestly I think I’d hand you the knife.” Eddie sighs, looking down at Steve.

Steve scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t stab you. I’d obviously sneak some kind of poison into your honeycombs. Way less messy.”

Eddie goes back to nearly shouting, “Why have you thought about this?!”

“Honestly, I have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I just don’t speak them out loud.”

Despite the fact they are actively talking about his murder, Eddie can’t help but get all gooey with Steve in their bed. “Is this why you don’t get mad when I think aloud? Another reason why you just get me. Adding that tally to the ‘why we are great together’ column.”

“Yes, we’re pretty amazing. Can we go back to sleep now?” Steve smiles.

“Yes—wait, no.” Eddie corrects himself, getting himself back on track. He loves this man, but he is a sneaky little minx. “Why did El never say anything? I mean, this is not the first time I accused her of being a demon. Hell, we’ve been talking for literally five minutes, and she still hasn’t said anything. Also, what if she walked in on us doing, ya know, adult stuff?” Eddie blushes at the end. He’s acting like he hasn’t been whispering way worse things in Steve’s ear every night.

“First off, she won’t walk in on that. Apparently Max taught her about happy screams a long time ago.”

“Gross.”

“Yeaaa. Second, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now.”

Huh, now that Eddie thinks about it, he does hear soft little snores. Which is weird since neither he nor Steve snores, and they are both, ya know, awake.

“And I don’t think El speaking in a dark corner would have helped your fears. Like imagine just hear her soft “Hello” at 2 a.m.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“I—okay I got nothing.”

“Fantastic can we go back to sleep now?”

Eddie gives one last shout, “You’re not going to stop her?”

“Are you going to tell her no? And make her worry?”

Eddie slinks down into the covers, “...no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Eddie curves his body into Steve’s, seeking him out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, securing him to his chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Steve hums. “Anything for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Eddie kisses Steve lightly.

“I love you both as well.” El’s voice suddenly speaks into the silent room.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screams.

Steve can’t help the giggles that come out of him. He tries to smother them into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie can’t find it in himself to be mad.

———

some people seemed interested in more el + Steve sibling energy. And they are a sibling-like duo I love. So here’s a little something but more steddie involved. I think all three of their relationship would be very sweet. Both Eddie and Steve would protect el. I hope you enjoyed :)

[howtobecomeadragon]

Nancy and Jonathan eventually have a kid. Mike and Will have been together for years by now and haven't ever really thought about kids until now. But all of a sudden, Mike is an uncle. A very proud, enthusiastic, and fun uncle, as it turns out.

Will watches Mike with little baby Byers-Wheeler and a feeling crashes into him like a massive wave. Will watches Mike rock their nephew to sleep, use baby talk, and bring home baby clothes to gift to Nancy and Jonathan. Will notices that Mike picks out a lot of dinosaur and space themed clothing. Mike pulls out a few toys that he'd held onto all these years, the ones with sentimental value, and he brings them over to Nancy and Jonathan's, putting the toys in the baby's toy chest.

Mike starts to encourage Will to hold the baby more when they visit their siblings, begging Jonathan to take pictures with his camera. He keeps asking Will, "Isn't he cute? I remember when Holly was this small. He's adorable, isn’t he? Do you think he looks like me at all, with the Wheeler genes?" Will thinks to himself that Mike has never been more adorable.

One night in bed before he and Mike turn out the lights, about a month after Nancy had the baby, Will supposes it wouldn't hurt to just ask.

"Mike, do you want to look into having a kid together?"

Mike's answer comes out faster than his mouth seems to be able to form the words, like he'd been waiting hours or days or weeks for Will to ask: "Yes. Yeah, let's do that. I want to have a baby with you."

[resident-gay-bitch]

🏳️‍⚧️ Trans Tuesdays 🏳️‍⚧️

3 times Eddie was shocked to find out things about his friends dating life, and 1 time he was shocked about his own. (Transfem Stevie)

“Wait, what?!” Eddie shouted, staring at Robin incredulous.

“I’m. A. Lesbian.” She repeated, clapping her hands between each word, “Do you need a dictionary definition on what that means, dingus? Because it’s not-“

“No-“ Eddie interrupted, shaking his head, hands sternly on his hips, “I know what a lesbian is, don’t worry. I just didn’t know you were one!”

“Oh… well, yeah, I am.” She shrugged, “Obviously! Whose idea did you think it was to have a Michelle Pfeiffer movie marathon?”

“Huh.” Eddie nodded, giving her a once over, “Well that clears some things up.”

“God, you’re such a dingus sometimes.” Robin snorted, scruffing up his hair, “Come on, we’re gonna be late to meet Stevie if we don’t leave now.”

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?!” Eddie said, doing a double take and charging backwards, almost stacking it down the stairs to the Wheelers basement.

“No! Nothing!” Will shouted, slapping his hand over his mouth, Mike beside him groaned.

“Nuh uh, not nothing. Don’t try to lie to me you little shits. I saw you two smooching it up.” He said, his voice a harsh whisper as he stared down at them. Or, well, attempted to since they’re almost taller than him these days. “Spill.”

“We don’t have to tell you anything.” Mike sassed.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie sassed right back, “Tell that to the three headed fire breathing dragon who has it out for you, Mighty Palladian.”

Mike groaned, “We’re not gay!”

“Well, last I checked you’re both dudes.” Eddie tutted, “So, what’s this, hmm? I’m not letting you be a little bitch and use your best friend as your experiment.”

“I’d never do that!” Mike clipped.

“Experiment?” Will asked, his face scrunched up.

“Oh, yeah, been there.” Eddie scoffed self-deprecatingly, chucking a thumb at himself, “Don’t tell anyone, but I went through half the football team.”

“Wait, you’re gay?” Mike glared at him.

“Nuh duh.” Eddie blabbered, tongue rolling out of his mouth, “I thought you little shits knew.”

“I knew.” Will shrugged.

“Why did you know?” Mike argued.

“I just knew.” Will said back.

“Hey now, little dudes, enough of that.” Eddie shook his head, “Now come on, what’s going on here? Is this some creepy weirdo exploration thing or have you gone all sweet ‘n shit on each other.”

“Don’t tell anyone, okay.” Will hissed, grabbing Mike's hand, “We’re dating.”

“He didn’t need to know that.” Mike groaned.

“Wouldn’t you rather someone know?” Will raised an eyebrow, “Someone you actually look up to and like?”

“Aww, Little Wheeler, you look up to me?” Eddie asked, a hand splayed over his heart, “I’m honoured.”

“I’m outta here.” Mike rolled his eyes, pushing past Eddie and up the stairs, “I swear if you tell anyone, I’m gonna go steal all your Dungeon Master notes-“

Eddie gasped dramatically, “You wouldn’t!”

“Watch me.” Mike rolled his eyes, accidentally letting a smile slip before he was fully turned around.

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, choking on his sandwich, staring up at his uncle.

“I said-“

“I know what you said.” He shook his head, “I just… you are in a relationship?”

“Yes.” Wayne nodded, “I’m very happy.”

“Oh, wow.” Eddie breathed, “I did not expect this happening when I woke up this morning.”

Wayne chuckled at him, “It ain’t that crazy, son.”

“Yeah it is!” Eddie protested, “I didn’t think you even cared about relationships or nothing. You’ve always been just Wayne to me.”

“Yeah, cause you were a sad little kid that needed my full attention.” Wayne huffed, “Now, you’re an adult and I’d like a relationship.”

“Huh…” Eddie nodded, and began to eat his sandwich again, “So can I meet him?”

“You already have.”

“When?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

“His name’s Scott, and I love him very much, and we met at your middle school parent teacher interviews and have been putting off our feelings since then.”

“That long? Wayne!” Eddie groaned, “Is he like a single dad or something?”

“No, he’s your old science teacher.”

“Wait, what!”

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, scrunching his face, looking at Steve on the verge of short circuiting.

“Yeah, I just can’t do this anymore, Eddie.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I like you, so much, and I just…”

“Stevie, I’m gay.” Eddie said, now looking at him with desperation, “Steve I’m so gay, I’m the gayest any dude could ever be. Holy shit, I like you too!”

“You are?” Steve said, his eyes beginning to well up a little.

“Yes!” Eddie said, jumping on the spot, “I’m so fucking gay, Stevie. Gayer than the day is long! Please go out with me.”

Steve huffed, giving Eddie a saddened smile, “I’m not a guy, though.”

“Wait… what?” Eddie asked, scrunching his nose, “What do you mean?”

“I’m transgender…” Steve said, looking at the ground, “I’m actually a woman.”

“Wait, you’re transgender?” He asked, whispering the next part to himself, “God, everythings happening this week…”

Steve nodded her head, “Yeah, I can’t… I’m sorry, Eddie, but if you’re gay-“

“I’m bisexual, actually. I’m so bisexual, please go out with me.”

“Eddie, you can’t just change your sexuality.”

“Uh, well, apparently you can, because I just did.” Eddie sassed, “I was gay, now I’m bisexual, cause I have a big ol’ crush on you, and if you’re a woman, that makes me bisexual.”

Steve glared at him.

“So, can I take you out on a date now?” He said, staring up at Steve with stars in his eyes.

“Are you being serious? This isn’t just a joke, Eddie, it’s my identity.”

“I know.” He said, deadpan, “It’s mine too. Hell, I’m finding so many things out this week, it’s crazy. So like, do I still call you Steve or…?”

“I prefer Stevie.”

Eddie grinned, “Sick. So Stevie, about that date?”

Stevie huffed, “You realise if this goes anywhere I’d be your girlfriend, not your boyfriend.”

“Holy shit, you wanna be my girlfriend?” He beamed at her, “This is so metal, can I kiss you, I wanna kiss you so bad, Stevie, please be my girlfriend right now.”

“Oh…” Stevie muttered, finally smiling, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Eddie just about fainted.

Stevie has my heart oh my fucking god I love her *Screams hysterically from the rooftops*

[cluelessbees]

Yknow what ? I think Byler getting Murray’d would be more heartfelt than anything else.

Because like-

Murray doesn’t just call out Jopper and Jancy because it’s obvious. He points it out because he knows they’re being stupid. In their cases, it’s really just them not communicating their feelings to one another and trying to pretend they don’t exist.

But with Byler it’s like…it’s different.

Because it’s not just that is it? We’re not just watching two people pine over one another whilst being oblivious to the fact they other likes them back. We’re not just looking at two people who can’t communicate well. There’s more to it.

Because they’re two boys who have been best friends since childhood. They grew up at the peak of the AIDS epidemic. They live in a small town and they’re expected to act a certain way. It’s different for them.

I don’t think Murray is gonna waltz in acting all holier than thou and essentially out both Mike and Will to one another. He’s a smart man as we’ve seen. He’s attentive. He doesn’t just call jancy and jopper out to prove a point he knows what they both need to hear so they can get over their miscommunication hurdle.

I think he’s going to go up to them. Either both or just Mike or Will or whatever, and he’s going to talk to them about it. Because that’s what they need. They need someone to talk to them about it. And I don’t think he would start with just directly talking about it. I think he (and this is me headcanonning Murray as queer) would open up first. Like about his own experiences- to show them that he gets it, and he knows what it’s like. And then he would casually bring up the whole byler thing.

Hmmm something along the lines of...

Okay– picture a conflict Mike Wheeler sitting by himself – either on the couch or on the floor or whatever. And, he’s stuck in his head. A lot had happened. He broke up with El and he’s struggling to grasp what he’s feeling about his best friend. And there's this…weird tension between them that– he just– he can't put his finger on. But they’re off. They aren’t clicking like they used to and Mike can’t seem to fix things. 

So he sat alone, trying to understand or comprehend whatever he’s feeling whilst everyone else is god knows where in the house. Will was in the kitchen though. Mike knew that much. And then suddenly, he felt a weight on the couch seat next to him or the space on the floor beside him was no longer there and he heard the words of Murray Bauman pull him out of his thoughts with the weirdest fucking ice-breaker he has ever heard.

“Y’know…I was like you when I was younger.” 

“Really?” Mike asked – mostly out of disbelief as he scanned Murray. No way. Not a chance. 

“Oh yeah…” Murray smiled, nodding to himself as he continued. “I know it's hard to believe it, but I was this…brash, stubborn, reactive teen who loved going against authority. I was very...headstrong in my beliefs.” 

He paused and Mike turned to him. Murray had his head down, looking at his lap silently, and Mike didn’t know what to do but watch or…more– listen to the silence. 

“And…I was also in my head a lot.” Murray looked up, turning to Mike once before looking forward again. “I was angry at things – at people and at myself because…no matter how much I pretended like I loved being a freak…a part of me hated that I wasn’t normal…”

Mike felt cold. His heartbeat raced as he turned away from Murray – facing forward and staring at his lap as he continued to listen.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah…I was-- going through a lot of stuff internally that I tried pretending didn’t exist.” He paused again – taking a deep breath. “I was…in love with someone who I didn’t want to be in love with.”

“...You were?” 

“Yeah…” Murray laughed to himself. “Yeah…it was– well he was…my best friend.”

Mike held his breath.

“I fell for him. And I was mad at myself for falling for him. Because even though I knew it wasn’t wrong…I just kept thinking about how I wasn’t supposed to like him. Because that’s not normal– Well ‘normal.’” Murray airquoted, rolling his eyes. Mike’s eyes were glued onto him at this point. 

“So…I grew angrier. And I took it out on myself. On him. Even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though I loved him– I just..I let my fear get the better of me and I pushed him away until I lost him…And I hated myself for doing that.” He breathed, another pause, before finally turning to Mike. “It took me a long time to realise that there was nothing wrong about loving someone.”

Murray tilted his head towards the direction of the kitchen as he raised his eyebrows – and it clicked to Mike.

“I..” Mike’s throat felt dry. “You know?”

“I had a hunch.”

“Is it obvious? Does he–”

“No, he doesn’t know. Your secret's safe with me, kid.”

“Okay– good.” Mike paced his breathing. “I just…I– I can’t lose him because of this. If he knew– if– if he knew he would–”

“He’s your best friend right?” Murray cut him off.

“What? Yes but–”

“Then. he could never hate you, Mike. Not about this.”

“How do you know that?”

“Call it…another one of my hunches.” Mike knitted his brows together.

“Look – kid, I’m not going to force you to tell him or anything. It's your choice at the end of the day. And I can’t say much, but it doesn’t take a genius to know how much that boy cares about you. And you care about him, correct?”

Mike nodded. 

“And you trust him?”

Mike nodded again. “With my life.”

“So…all I can say is…if you trust him? Then...trust him with this.” Murray began to stand up. “Take it from me. Holding it in only hurts the both of you.”

And then Murray leaves

Anyways yeah thoughts––

[parkitaco]

Every morning, Mike swears his alarm goes off earlier.

He groans, rubbing sleep from his eyes and rolling over. Will is still asleep beside him, arms looped loosely around his waist, and Mike winces as he shifts, trying not to wake him. He leans over to slap the off button on the alarm, then spends a long few minutes staring at the glowing red numbers, trying to gather the courage to get up.

This, unfortunately, is the cold reality of being a college student - his weekends are constantly usurped by extra shifts at the diner where he works.

But it also means that he gets to keep this apartment, where he lives with his boyfriend, and it's for this reason that he finally tosses off the covers and sits up.

Or- tries to. Before Mike can clamber out of bed, a pair of sturdy arms wrap firmly around his middle, and he yelps as he tumbles back onto the mattress.

He huffs, trying and failing to repress a smile as Will shoves his face into the space between Mike's shoulder blades. "Will," he hums, staring out at the window where light is streaming in - they'd forgotten to close the blinds - and letting one hand rest over Will's where it's pressed against his stomach. "I have to get up."

There's no response, only a light snuffling, and if Mike were just slightly dumber and didn't know Will quite as well as he did, he'd assume he was asleep. Unfortunately, though, Will happens to be very good at getting what he wants, and this is one of his primary tactics.

"Will," Mike says again, gently tugging at Will's arm in an attempt to pry him off him, and Will's grip on him tightens. "Will, c'mon."

Again, there's no response, but Will's nose digs into his back a little more firmly.

"I know you're awake," Mike tries, wriggling a little in his grip, and Will whines.

"Nuh uh," he mumbles, muffled.

Mike rolls his eyes, craning his neck back to peer over at him as best he can. "Babe, I have to get up."

"Nuh uh," Will says again, as Mike carefully twists around to face him again. His eyes are still closed, but his nose is scrunched up in offense, and when he turns his head into Mike's shoulder he can see that his cheek is flushed and lined with pillow creases. Something warm settles in Mike's chest, and he smiles as he presses a kiss to the top of Will's head.

"I'm gonna be late," he tries, but it sounds unconvincing even to his own ears, and Will grunts noncommittally.

"So be late," he mumbles, evidently giving up on feigning sleep, and curls closer.

"I'll get fired."

"So get fired." Will presses a kiss to his collarbone, and Mike, the weak man that he is, lifts a hand to tangle his fingers in Will's hair. "Then we can stay here forever."

Mike smiles, leaning into Will's warmth a little as his hand dips under Mike's sleep shirt, thumb rubbing placating circles into his hip. It makes Mike's resolve crack just a little more, and he sighs, cupping the back of Will's head with one hand and kissing his head again.

"That would be nice," he allows, and Will hums appreciatively, "until we stopped being able to afford the apartment, and then we'd have to live on the street, and-"

"Okay, Mike," Will grumbles, and his grip on him loosens ever so slightly.

Mike's resolve may be cracking, but he knows an opportunity when he sees one, and he uses Will's brief moment of weakness to wriggle out of his grasp. Will releases an unholy yelp of offense and scrambles for him, fingers skating over Mike's arms, waist, anywhere he can reach, but fails to find purchase. "Sorry, sorry," Mike says, half-laughing as he tumbles out of bed and Will falls back onto the mattress in defeat. "Sorry, I'm sorry, we can hang out later, I swear."

Will stays silent, bottom lip stuck out in a pout and arms folded over the covers. His eyes are open now, wide and brown and sad, and Mike knows it's all for show and can't help but be a little moved by it anyway. For someone that is generally opposed to lying, Will really is excellent at it.

Mike suppresses a smile, giving in and leaning over to kiss him softly. Immediately, Will wraps a hand around the front of Mike's shirt, smiling a little against his lips, and Mike leans away just as he tugs sharply at him, trying to pull him back down onto the bed.

"Nice try," Mike says, prying his fingers off and laughing as Will immediately goes back to pouting.

"I hate you," Will says, and Mike blows him a kiss as he crosses to the dresser and starts rooting around for a fresh t-shirt.

He gets ready quickly, on account of the ten minutes Will had so rudely absorbed, pulling on a t-shirt and jeans before stumbling out to the kitchen to make coffee and throw a piece of bread into the toaster. The kitchen is freezing, on account of it being mid-November and the two of them not being able to afford to keep the apartment constantly heated, and Mike wraps his arms around himself as he waits for the toaster to ding. With every passing second, he wishes more and more that he could take Will up on his offer (demand) to stay in bed, curled up under the warm covers with his even-warmer boyfriend.

It's rare that they get days like this, where the light streaming through the windows feels pleasant rather than blinding and their biggest strife is over one of them having to leave for work or school. It's nice, and normal, and Mike's never particularly subscribed to normalcy but, given the alternative of night terrors and monsters haunting them and those days when it feels like he can't move a muscle, normal sounds pretty great. He'd sell his soul for a lifetime of normal with will.

It's for this reason, mainly, that Mike makes a second cup of coffee, despite the fact that Will is a clingy nuisance who has probably already made Mike late for work, which Mike is actually rather pissed about.

(He's not. He wouldn't have it any other way, especially since there was a time when he didn't think he'd be lucky enough to have something as stupidly good as Will Byers clinging to him and making him late for things.)

When, after wolfing down a piece of slightly-burnt toast and pouring coffee into a mug for Will and a to-go cup for himself, he quietly pokes his head back into the bedroom, Will has already taken over the whole mattress, spread-eagled with his face planted firmly into a pillow. Mike smiles to himself and pads softly across the floor, setting Will's coffee mug down on the nightstand and reaching over to card a gentle hand through Will's hair.

"Mmph," Will groans, shifting just enough to open one eye at Mike.

Mike's smile widens, and he leans over to press a kiss to Will's temple, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Made you coffee," he murmurs, and when Will scrunches his nose at him, "I know, I know, you want to sleep. But- it's there if you want it, that's all."

"Thank you," Will mumbles begrudgingly, but Mike can see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he reaches up to curl his fingers around Mike's wrist. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah," Mike says, a little regretfully, glancing at the clock. "M' sorry."

"S'okay," Will murmurs - the coffee gesture must have made him a little more agreeable. He guides Mike's hand over to his lips and presses a kiss there, right in the center of Mike's palm. "I love you."

Mike smiles, tapping a fingertip against Will's jaw as Will kisses his hand again. "I love you too. I'll see you when I-" he cuts himself with a yelp when, with absolutely zero warning, Will tugs on his arm, hard, sending him tumbling back onto the mattress.

"Oh," Mike sighs, as Will's ironclad grip settles around his waist again, "I am so going to get fired."

---

Mike does not get fired, which is great for his and Will's financial situation but not so great for his personal affliction to doing physical labor. By the time he gets home, after a grueling eight-hour shift and the added half hour of traffic, he's bone tired and half-wishing he'd taken Will up on the whole staying-in-bed-forever thing after all.

He closes the door firmly and leans heavily against it, sighing and letting his eyes fall shut. He takes three deep breaths, then opens his eyes again, dropping his keys and wallet on the counter.

There's a patter of footsteps from down the hall, and Mike smiles a little to himself, glancing up as Will pokes his head around the corner, calling out a bleary "Mike?" before, upon seeing him, breaking out into a blinding smile. "Baby!" he cheers, as Mike laughs and holds out his arms. Will launches himself into them with zero hesitation, colliding with him forcefully and sending Mike stumbling back into the counter.

"Hi," Mike laughs, as Will winds his arms around his neck and begins peppering the side of his face with kisses. "Missed you."

"Mmph," Will replies, which is code for I missed you too, so very much, and pulls away, hopping up onto the kitchen island and beckoning Mike closer.

Mike grins wide and comes to stand between Will's knees, placing one hand on his thigh and the other against the side of his face. "Have you done anything at all today?" he asks, looking him up and down. Will is still in his sleep shirt and a pair of Mike's stolen sweatpants, and his hair is endearingly ruffled, like he'd been napping before Mike got home. Mike is incredibly jealous of this fact, because he'd spent the day serving ungrateful customers and trying and failing to prevent anything from spilling on him, but any negative emotions are undercut by Will, who looks so sweet and flushed and warm that Mike can't really be pressed to complain.

"I did art," Will says proudly, despite the fact that doing art is kind of his resting state.

Mike bumps his nose against Will's, smiling. "Do I get to see?"

"Later," Will says, and kisses him, slow and sure. He tastes like early evening sleep and tea and cigarettes, his hands coming up to cup Mike's face and tilt him into a better angle. Mike hums, soft and appreciative, and Will pulls back with a lazy smile.

"I can't believe I spent all day working my ass off while you sat here and doodled," Mike mumbles, knocking his forehead against Will's.

"I didn't- doodle," Will huffs, breath fanning across Mike's chin, and Mike grins all teeth, pleased at getting him all riled up. "And I've worked plenty of long shifts this week. S' not a competition."

"You're right," Mike agrees, suddenly in a very agreeable mood which may or may not be related to Will's lips, which are very close and very kissable.

It's worth it, too, when said lips stretch into a pleased little smile, and Will rubs a thumb along Mike's cheek, gazing up at him with unfiltered adoration. "'Course I am," he replies, and kisses Mike again before he can argue, not that he would have tried particularly hard to.

It's sweet and saccharine, Will's tongue running slowly over the line of Mike's lip. Mike's hand shifts to grab hold of Will's waist, mostly just to ground him where he's gone a little weak in the knees, because if he melted to the floor over a singular kiss, Will would never let him live it down.

He's pretty sure Will knows anyway, though, because he grins against Mike's mouth and pulls him closer, humming appreciatively. "I love you," he murmurs into the kiss, and- okay, if Mike wasn't feeling dizzy before, he certainly is now.

He disconnects the kiss a little reluctantly, a smile tugging insistently at his lips. He presses it down, tipping his head to one side inquisitively. "I love you too, freak," he says, laughing a little. Will is so- odd, sometimes, so clingy and affectionate and giggly, and it's not a bad thing by any means, but he's not always so bubbly. Not without a reason.

He bumps his nose against Will's again, and Will scrunches said nose at him. You're like a cat, he'd said once. Always- fucking- headbutting me, or something.

It's 'cause I like you, Mike had replied, and Will hadn't been able to think of a comeback for that.

"What's going on?" he asks now, lightly teasing and faintly confused. "Why are you being so- nice?"

Will gives him a look, hooking his arms around Mike's neck and drawing him in for another kiss. "M' always nice to you," he mumbles, still half-kissing him, and Mike's smile wins out as he leans into it a little.

"I just meant," Mike starts, leaning away, only to be immediately cut off by Will kissing him again, quick and sweet, "you're being extra- affectionate, today." His eyes widen, and he pulls back for real, staring up at Will. "Oh God, did you do something bad? Are you trying to butter me up so I won't be pissed? Oh, no, what did you break this time-"

"Nothing!" Will squawks, flicking the side of his face indignantly. "Nothing, oh my God, I just. I don't know." He curls a finger through a lock of Mike's hair and tugs absently at it. "Today's a good day, and I just wanted to take advantage of that."

"Oh," Mike says, a slow smile spreading across his face. Will has a point - last week had had some bad days. They'd gotten into an argument on Monday - the small, inconsequential kind that had been resolved not even one full day later, but fighting with Will in any capacity always makes Mike's skin crawl. Then Will had had a bad day, the kind where he'd woken up screaming too many times the night before and had been overtired and sad all day. The day after that, Mike had had a bad day, the kind where he hadn't been able to move or talk or eat or do much of anything but lay in the dark, and Will had cried three times with worry and had tried not to let Mike see.

But this week has been better. They go in cycles like this sometimes, as lasting childhood trauma will tend to do to people, but it always gets better. Everything is better, with Will around.

"Yeah, okay," Mike whispers, and Will smiles as he drags him back in for another kiss.

[astrobei]

the year the party starts playing dnd they dress up as their characters for halloween and mike is all done up in his armor and a little foam sword (he begged for a more realistic one but he’s a rambunctious kid and karen wheeler gets anxious) and will has his cleric’s robe on but it’s a little too big because joyce got the fabric secondhand and he’s a small kid so he’s just absolutely drowning in it. and some kid they pass on the street sneers and sees the way it’s trailing behind him a little bit and makes a joke that will is dressed up as a princess and all his friends laugh and will is on the verge of tears and blinking rapidly to keep himself from crying. and then, lightning fast, mike gets down on one knee and kisses the back of will’s hand and goes, “i think you make an awesome princess” and that’s when little will falls in love

[byler-alarmist]

I have this great need for both older Wheeler siblings to be very, very jealous. Jealous Mike is already basically canon, but what if jealous Nancy?

We haven't really seen it with Jancy, since Jonathan seemingly doesn't hang out with or even know a single other girl in the world.

I want Nancy's friendship with Robin to grow and deepen to the point where Nancy secretly dreams of it becoming more, and when Robin finally tells her that she and Vickie are more than friends, I want Nancy to surprise herself by getting insanely jealous.

Nancy's brain is short-circuiting and Robin starts panicking, stammering and trying to explain because she thinks Nancy doesn't approve of her being a lesbian.

Meanwhile, Nancy is trying to appear so normal about it, insisting that it's totally fine and great, that Vickie is....a really great person and it's....really, really great.

Robin is uneasy, thinking Nancy is doing her best to tolerate Robin's truth despite thinking it's gross.

Robin assures Nancy that she doesn't want to make her feel weird, that Nancy doesn't need to worry about Robin hitting on her, since they were friends and nothing was going to change that. Ironically, this makes Nancy angrier.

Nancy's head is spinning and she feels these ugly feelings rising in her chest, to the point where she has to excuse herself or she'll scream.

And all she can think is.....why couldn't it be me?

[lighthouseas]

begging you guys to reblog art & fic & gifs & analysis & like. posts. i mean this especially applies to creations but i like. guys. likes don't do shit. how many times do we have to say this for it to get through your head. it makes me so sad when i look at a piece of beautiful art , or a fic, only to see that it has like. 5 reblogs and 60 likes.

REBLOG. SHIT. even if it's from creatives you don't know. THAT is how we keep this fandom alive while we have no new content due to the strikes.

[andiwriteordie]

moments that we stole

alright, the collection of tumblr prompt ficlets, aka moments that we stole is now up on ao3! 25 unrelated ficlets for you in case you missed any 🫡

as for the two bonus ficlets that haven’t been posted on tumblr...

—

24: the tomb won’t close 

aka, i’m a lying liar who lies, and i did, in fact, write an IT Chapter 2 inspired ficlet. 

Summary:

“What if we were wrong?”

The words are a gut punch, knocking what little air is left in Will’s lungs out of them. Beside him, he hears Mike’s breath hitch, and his fiancé whispers, “What?”

“What if… we were wrong?” Dustin repeats, quieter now. “We hypothesized that the Upside Down was destroyed, and we used Will and El losing their powers as proof to back that up. But what if… what if we were wrong?”

Or:

Twenty years after his kidnapping, Will and the other Party members return to Hawkins.

—

25: close friends, besties, roommates

inspired by this post from kidovna!

 Summary:

Will offers him a strained smile. “Hey, Mike,” his husband greets, definitely sounding far too casual for the situation at hand here. “We, uh… we have some visitors.”

Mike blinks, and he looks back and forth between his husband and…

And the teenage versions of themselves.

Or:

Mike and Will get some visitors from their past.

[imfinereallyy]

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

[light-lanterne]

imagine, if you will, six-year-old mike wheeler freaking out because today is will's birthday and karen and joyce arranged for the celebration to happen at the wheeler's (away from a certain someone). and it has to be perfect because will deserves perfection, but it's already going terrible because karen bought blue balloons (instead of yellow) and the candy they have are reese's cups (instead of pieces) and the toy they got will is a stuffed bear (instead of a tiger).

so he's as anxious as a six-year-old can be because he wants to impress his bestest friend but his mom wouldn't listen to him and now it's all a mess >.<

he's pacing around his room, eyeing his closet every ten seconds because even the sweater he's wearing is the wrong one ("will likes the grey one better, mom!") and he doesn't know how to make the day better.

and that's how nancy finds him, on her way to her room: a bundle of nerves so unlike mike that it's actually freaky. she asks him what's wrong and he breaks down and starts ranting about how everything is wrong and how will is going to hate the day and he'll never want to speak to mike again because everything was so terrible and he's going to start hanging out with greg freaking mccorkle instead and-

nancy stops him. tries to reason with him about how will is probably going to love the day nonetheless and mike is doubtful. he's so dejected he just sits down in his bed all defeated and nancy's not sure what to do,,,

,,,until she gets an idea. it's silly and it probably won't do much, but it might just be enough to ease mike's anxiety~

so she goes to her room, grabs a nice yellow ribbon, and returns to mike's side. she ties it around his head so there's a little bow atop his hair and mike's very confused because "aren't bows girly?"

she shuts him down and the bell rings at that moment, so she sends him downstairs and karen's a little confused, but doesn't question mike's antics because the byers are right there and she can't scold him anymore. so she opens the door and greets everyone, while a shy mike stands by the stairs hoping that his stupid sister's plan worked.

will takes one look at him and immediately decides this is the best birthday present ever.

- the end -

(just a silly idea i had. happy birthday to the pretty will byers~)

[wiseatom]

it's the first kiss, it's flawless, it's really something. it's fearless.

ok i am feeling fearless tonight, and thea byler first kisses are The Byler First Kisses so i am politely requesting a first kiss in the rain!

this was a VILE prompt to send in that i am so emotional about fearless (taylor's version) and byler and byler first kisses. i hate you so much. i hope you love it.

“Probably shouldn’t have taken our bikes, huh?” 

Will looks over at Mike, blinking rainwater out of his eyes – they’re standing under the awning of the entrance to the only bank in town, closed for the afternoon and completely free of any other miserable, rain-drenched suckers. The bikes in question are lying on their sides on the pavement, abandoned in their haste to get under cover. And Mike is completely soaked, dark hair plastered to his forehead and shirt clinging to hm probably just as uncomfortably as Will’s is sticking to his own skin, and he’s got this sheepish, guilty grin on his face. It had been his idea to take their bikes, hadn’t it? Something about we only have a few weeks left of this weather, Will and let’s enjoy the summer sun, Will and it’s only a twenty percent chance of rain, Will, we’ll be fine. 

Famous last words. 

“Well, it was only a twenty percent chance of rain,” Will points out, doing a bad job of suppressing a smile of his own. This one, though, is less in the realm of guilty, and more in the realm of, I told you so, idiot. "How could we have known?"

Mike shoves at him, a playful brush of wet skin on wet skin, and Will laughs. “Shut up,” Mike says, but he’s still smiling. He reaches a hand up, tangling his fingers in his hair as he brushes it up and off of his forehead, and Will immediately looks away, biting his lip – he shouldn’t think Mike looks cool right now. In actuality, Mike looks like a drowned rat; in actuality, Mike is the reason that they’re stranded here, soaked from the rain; in actuality, none of that makes Will want to kiss him any less.

“How long do you think it’ll last?” Mike is asking now, somehow heard over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement and the sound of all the blood in Will’s body rushing all at once to his ears. He crosses his arms over his chest, resolutely staring at the empty office building across the street, at the trees in boxed planters swaying in the wind – anywhere but Mike, willing his heart rate to go back to normal.

“Check your phone,” Will suggests, doing a very good job of keeping his voice even and steady. “Hot tip: if there’s a little rain cloud under the number, that means it’s still going to rain.”

He doesn’t have to look to know that Mike is rolling his eyes. “Really living up to your name, o’ Will the Wise,” he says, and then presumably turns his attention to digging his phone out of the wet, gross pocket of his jeans – or at least, that’s what Will guesses he’s doing. He still won’t look at him, so he wouldn’t really know, but there’s a lapse in conversation that Will can only attribute to looking at the weather app. “It’s only going to last for another half hour,” Mike declares, affirming Will’s assumptions. 

Will lets out a scoff. “Let me see,” he says, more aggressive than he intends to be, but he doesn’t trust Mike’s assessment of the weather at the moment, thank you very much. Good thing Mike has no interest in meteorology, because Will would have way too much fun bursting that bubble. 

In a feat that has taken years of a mixture of natural talent and diligent practice, Will manages to avoid looking at Mike directly, instead just looking at the raindrop-smeared screen of his phone.  Fortunately for Will, Mike is actually right – the app does show that the rain is going to clear in thirty minutes, the forecast free of tiny thunderclouds for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately for Will, his herculean efforts of not looking at Mike are thwarted completely by standing so close to Mike that he can feel the body heat radiating off of him, and he literally jumps back, cheeks burning.

Smooth. He still won’t look at Mike, but he can tell Mike is looking at him, now. Great.

“You’re jumpy,” Mike comments, sounding amused. 

“I’m not jumpy,” Will barks back, rocking back and forth on his heels, which is almost jumping. He plants his feet to the ground instantly, standing as still as possible. 

“You are,” Mike says, taking a step closer to Will, who immediately steps away from him in – well, in a jumpy way. Damn it. “You’re like a little rabbit.” 

Will flushes something violent, his cheeks burning with it, and this is not what he had in mind when he was urging his respiratory system to act normally around Mike Wheeler, please, for once in our pathetic life. 

“I am not,” he says haughtily, still refusing to look at him. 

“You are,” Mike insists, reaching out to grab at Will by the waist. Will yelps and hops away from him, out from under the cover of the awning and nearly tripping over a nearby parking block. Mike laughs at him. “See?” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket and taking another step towards Will, who hops backwards out of his reach, involuntarily proving Mike’s point. “Bunny rabbit behavior.” 

“Because you’re trying to grab me,” Will seethes, no real heat to it, taking several steps back as Mike steps out into the rain after him. “Go away.” 

Mike only smiles wider, lunging for Will again with his arms stretched out. His fingers brush the wet fabric of Will’s soaked t-shirt, but on account of it being wet and Will once again jumping away from him, he doesn’t quite get a hold on him. 

“Bunny behavior,” Mike repeats, a gleeful sing-song, and Will flips him off. 

“I hate you,” Will spits out, dodging another grab attempt. 

“You don’t,” Mike says. 

“I do,” Will insists, letting out another yelp as Mike comes after him again. He does more than jump away this time, trying to beat the bunny allegations, and instead turns to run towards the other side of the parking lot. 

Mike makes a noise of protest, and Will glances over his shoulder to see Mike start after him. “Come back!” he calls out, following Will’s path through the parking lot, “I’m not agile enough for this!” 

“Not my fault!” Will yells back, though he’s not having much luck, either, the oil from the asphalt of the parking lot working together with the rain to make him slip and slide all over the place. Mike is working against the same conditions, but even with Will’s head start, Mike and his stupid long legs make the distance between them a lot closer than Will would like. “Oh my God,” he screams, jumping away from yet another close call, “get away from me, you freak!” 

“You’re just mad that I caught up to you,” Mike laughs, and then immediately slips in a puddle. It would be funny, except it sends him sliding forward, and his momentum is too quick for Will to react on time – which lets Mike crash right into him, grabbing at the clinging fabric of Will’s t-shirt for dear life. 

“Yes,” Will grits out, trying to squirm out of his grip, but Mike’s hold is firm, “I’m very, very mad. Let go.” 

“Nah,” Mike says, pulling Will closer and spinning them around, their sneakers sloshing with every step. Will grips onto Mike’s biceps, fingernails digging in for some sort of purchase on his wet skin, desperately trying not to topple over backwards and take Mike with him. “I like you right here.” 

They’re close – so, so close – but Will won’t look up, fixing his gaze on Mike’s bony shoulder and the way his shirt clings to it, almost transparent. The rain beats down on them, flattening Will’s hair against his forehead and sending a cascade of water dripping into his eyes, but he doesn’t care. It beats the alternative. 

“You’re an idiot,” he accuses Mike’s shoulder, furiously blinking against the onslaught of rainwater. 

“You like me, anyway,” Mike answers easily, fondly, hopefully. “You like me so much.” 

Despite himself, this makes Will tip his head back to look up at Mike, rain be damned, because that’s not the way a friend says those words. And that’s certainly not the way a friend looks at a friend, either. 

Will blinks, and the entire day restructures itself in Will’s head: Mike, calling him at noon, insisting he find his bike, because he’d be over in twenty; Mike, almost crashing into a fire hydrant, because he’d been too busy looking at Will to pay attention to where he was going; Mike, paying for his meal at the burger joint they’d gone to for lunch, a normal occurrence; Mike, constantly tapping his foot against Will’s beneath the table, brushing Will’s ankle with his toe, something that’s never happened before. 

And then there was Mike, insisting they go grab ice cream and share it, so that they could get the most bang for their buck; and there was Mike, offering his same spoon to Will, waving off Will’s halfhearted concern about germs; and there was Mike, lying back in the grass with him, his body angled towards Will as he let Will ramble about the portfolio he’s preparing for his college admissions; and there was Mike, who offered to bike back with Will all the way to his house, even though it was in the wrong direction from Mike’s own. 

This entire day has been a date. He payed for Will’s food, and played footsie with him, and shared his ice cream, and happily listened to Will rant, and chased him in the rain, and, and – Mike took Will on a date, and Will didn’t even notice until right now. 

Maybe they’re both idiots.

“I do,” Will says now, squinting up at Mike through the rain. He lifts one of his hands from Mike’s bicep to Mike’s hair, ignoring the way that it shakes in favor of pushing Mike’s hair back off of his forehead again. He lets his fingers card through the wet strands, traveling from Mike’s hairline all the way around his scalp so that his hand is resting at the nape of Mike’s neck, its tremor slight, but still there. His voice is steady, though. Braver than he feels. “I do like you so much.”

Mike’s hold on him tightens, pulling Will forward so that their torsos are pressed up against each other, and any and all nerves get washed away with the rain. Holding tight onto that courage and running with it, he uses his grip as leverage to pull Mike’s face down to his, stands on his tiptoes, and brings Mike’s mouth to his.

The first thing Will registers is that wet, the rainwater catching between them, but as Mike’s mouth moves against his, gently pressing for something beyond the static stack of lips on top of lips, the kiss bursts with new sensation. Mike’s mouth is warm, stark but welcome against the chill of the rain, and the strawberry flavor from his ice cream from earlier makes itself known in the next brush of their lips, bringing a sweetness Will hadn’t expected. It’s soft, slick, sweet, and somehow – shy yet fearless, all at once. 

Will lowers himself back to the ground, breaking the contact but bringing Mike down with him. He holds his face close and just breathes him in, all sweet strawberry breath and the fresh muskiness of petrichor and somewhere beneath them both, that same generic bath soap Mike’s mom has been buying for him as long as Will has known him. It’s a mix of old and new and Mike, Mike, Mike, and best of all, it’s his. It’s his. 

“For the record,” Mike says, his breath fanning out across Will’s face, and through the haze, Will wonders why he was trynig to get away from Mike earlier when this is so much better, “I like you so much, too.” 

Will smiles, big and wide and bright enough to banish the storm clouds, but he doesn’t want them to leave. He’s not ready to give this moment up, not yet.

“Good,” he says, bringing his other arm up to wrap around Mike’s neck. Mike’s thumbs brush at his hips through the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and Will shudders, the feeling soaking him to the bone in a way the rain could never hope to manage. “Kiss me about it.”

And as certain as the rain falling down all around them – Mike does, and does, and does. 

[jaegerisim]

Byler Actors, Enemies to Lovers AU

"Don't you see? Don't you see how desperate I am for you to understand, for you to see that I love you. Even if I was, or am, an asshole. Even if we don't always agree on everything,I love you. You mean everything to me and I promise to cherish and protect this, what we have, forever. So please, don't go, stay. I promise I'll change. All for my love to you." Mike sobbed as he got down on one knee and kissed Will's knuckles, gently.

"I love you too, you know? I've never stopped thinking about you. Never. You're the one moving me forward, urging me to keep living. That there is something worth living for. Listen, I've always felt like a mistake, except when I'm with you because you make me feel like I'm not a mistake; like I'm better for being different."

Mike stood up and stared at Will, love in the form of tears streamed down. Will grabbed the sides of Mike's face, and the two kissed.

Will loved this. He loved hearing Mike swear his undying love to him and then promptly make-out.

"CUT! Well done, guys!" a man yelled.

Too bad it was all fake and part of an act. Too bad.

**THIS IS NOT FOAH. I DO NOT SHIP FOAH AND I AM AGAINST SHIPPING ACTORS**